#the termination broke a lot of mutuals i think so if that happened know it wasn’t me ✌���

[mattodore]

guy whose “extended one-night stand” regularly deploys polish to call a little mouse

[diari0deglierrori]

D:

Hiiiii!!!! @omarfor-mp3 I’m diari0deglierrori, I’m alive and (almost) well, sorry to appear like this out of the blue but I was desperate and I’m feeeling awful and I need to vent so I figured I’d make a new blog to explain a bit. I saw your post about a mutual disappearing and figured it could be me (in the eventuality of it not being about me, feel free to ignore). So! Where do I start.

It all started on a dark January afternoon, the sky was grey and the air- ok I’ll go straight to the point: so I was just chilling, using this app as usual, and then all of a sudden, the Wi-Fi went down for like an hour and I couldn’t use it anymore, so ok, I go on with my life (although very annoyed because I had things to say). So then it seems that the Wi-Fi is back, at least insta is working, so I come back here to make a post about it (I don’t even know if it got published or not though? Something about the Wi-Fi who stopped working right when I was about to watch a movie ?) But when I hit post an error message appeared, the one that usually appears when there’s not Wi-Fi, so I try turning on my phones data and all to make it work but it doesn’t change a thing, I only get error messages. Then foolish little old me thinks it’s only because of a bad connection again so I check everything else to see if they work or not, every other app seems to be working so I come back here and when I check on my blogs they all seem to be gone, only my main’s name appears (it kind of happened once but only lasted about 5/10 minutes) so I start to worry and check other peoples blogs to see if it’s just the app or me. I figure I can go on the trending page, I can search things and go on blogs, so I go on yours and see the post about a mutual disappearing and it hits me. I’m simply gone. My whole life for the past 9ish years, vanished. I’m devastated. Oh but the problems are only getting started! I somehow still think my phone is the main problem, maybe it crashed a bit somehow so I go on settings and turn it off, thinking that maybe it’ll kind of reset things (not like reset reset, you know? Just like when you turn it off and on? I can’t explain right, my brain feels crushed). So I do the usual, turn it off, wait for a couple of minutes and try turning it on again. It does, the screen turns on, it says it’s locked and to swipe up to unlock, which I do. But it doesn’t work, the screen doesn’t move. I touch the buttons and they work just fine, I mean I can put it on mute and stuff, but nothing that needs the screen. So I start to panic a bit, tell people to call it so I can see if it still works, so they do and I see it can ring but I can’t swipe to answer, it’s like it’s frozen or something. But like not completely, I don’t know how to explain. Anyway, long story short I think I broke my phone, I can’t use it anymore, but the screen stays on and the hours go by, as if it was just mocking me. This is when you realize you’re stupid and wished you did a backup before, which I never do because as I said, I’m stupid. So anyway I tried to go log on my tumblr on my laptop but it didn’t work, so I tried changing the password too but then it said that my account got terminated and that I should report it to the staff or something… so I did, I’m waiting to see if they’ll ever answer.

I looked it up and apparently it happened to a lot of people, someone even explained it better than me: 

“Originally it wouldn't load and said I needed to log in. I logged out and attempted to log back in, but it said my email/password was wrong. I tried to change my password and now it says my account was terminated. I've had this account for 10 years.”. 

Same thing happened to me. 

Aaaanayway, I’ve been dying inside ever since, hahahahahahejsfbkand 

(I’m tagging you because of the post btw, sorry to bother) 

[coeurdastronaute]

Essays in Existentialism: Plus One, Ch. 2

Previously on Plus One

It oscillated every other minute between being an amazing idea, but also being the worst idea of all time, and Lexa was mostly exhausted of bouncing back and forth. It might be easier, she decided, if she just got herself on board with it being a good idea, but a deep, gnawing hole seemed to manifest itself in her gut at the very thought of seeing her ex. 

As she went through the motions of finishing the day, of doing inventory because it was Wednesday, Lexa tried not to distract herself with the thoughts of her impending trip. In just forty-eight hours, she’d be face to face with Costia, who she hadn’t seen in months, who she avoided before occasionally running awkwardly into each other at mutual friends’ events. She’d come face to face with her ex who was getting married. 

And she was going to do it with a complete stranger on her arm. 

With a heavy sigh, Lexa tossed her clipboard on her tiny desk in the storage closet and plopped down in the squeaky chair, tipping it back with a wail. Her sister was the worst. 

It was quiet in the shop, closed for just a handful of hours, Lexa always took a day to inventory and repair the damage of the week. She enjoyed the late evening work, when her workers were gone, and the shop was empty and full of dreams. No one knew how the cabinets stayed so clean, or how the scratches on table tops got sanded and fixed, or how the wobbly table by the window was miraculous cured one day, or how the ceiling fans got dusted, just that it all happened, and Lexa was off, meaning she didn’t come in until at least ten, the following morning. 

But Lexa sat in the chair and let her brain do the same mental gymnastics it always seemed to do in the new quiet she found herself craving. She opened her laptop and ignored the awaiting spreadsheet, and instead opted to look over the answer Clarke had given her to the “Know your partner” quiz Clarke googled and made them both do. A mix of basic information and Newlywed Game style innuendos, Lexa filled hers out after a bottle of wine and anxiously waited for Clarke’s. 

That was what started the daydreaming. She scrolled through Clarke’s answers and furrowed, doing her best to memorizing all that she could, as if she’d be tested on it all, as if it’d be impossible to believe she could be happy with someone like Clarke. 

And when those thoughts started to seep into her brain, Lexa leaned back again and dug the tips of her fingers into her eyes. 

In a week it’d be over. 

And with that and a deep, heavy sigh, Lexa looked at the screen again and went about learning Clarke. 

She started professionally, of course, looking at her corporate page and resume, because this was, if not anything, simply a business transaction and Lexa thought it was easier to parse a person if she didn’t actually have to fall for her. 

A graphic designer at Anya’s firm, Clarke held accolades and a long list of references. The link to her work showed a wide range of commercial campaigns and a certain amount of talent evident by her list of upcoming projects. A graduate of a small, private, liberal arts university, her academics leaned heavily scientific, which was a surprise until Lexa read some of the answers in the survey about a degree in physics given up for art. 

Lexa promised that she wouldn’t have looked at Clarke’s Instagram if Clarke hadn’t requested her first. She wasn’t someone who lurked, or at least she thought she wasn’t. She didn’t want to be someone who snuck around, digging through someone’s past, analyzing every filter and caption like a private investigator. But then Clarke appeared. 

And there were pictures of Clarke with friends getting drinks on a rooftop. And then the one with her laughing and baking. Or the Christmas party where she was on a corporate Santa’s lap, smiling so wide her eyes were shut. Despite herself Lexa found herself smiling along with the girl in the pictures. The one who went hiking with a pack of dogs, and the one who seemed to always be eating something. The one who had a lot of friends and enjoyed making them smile and laugh. The girl who posted storie about her morning run, and the girl who seemed to have a healthy work life balance. 

Lexa closed the webpages and stared at her inventory for exactly two seconds before curiosity won again and Lexa started looking at Costia’s account. There were the standard pictures of her pre-wedding planning. There was Costia working out. There was her new bride-to-be, happy and smiling at a gift for her birthday. 

And then a throwback that made Lexa’s stomach drop as she stared at a familiar image of Costia smiling in a bikini on a beach. It was from the last trip they took. Lexa was the one behind the camera. 

Three weeks after that picture was taken, Lexa walked in on Costia and a girl in the middle of the afternoon. Right in their own bed. Only to then discover it’d been going on for months. And it wasn’t the first. And then, Lexa didn’t remember much except that she moved into the apartment above her coffee shop and woke up one morning alone on sheets that weren’t familiar, in a room full of boxes. 

It seemed even more difficult to start inventory after that shot to the gut. 

But her phone went off, and Lexa leaned back in her chair after shutting the laptop again, wondering if that sinking feeling ever went away when it came to someone you love, or loved, or once loved, even for a moment. She didn’t have anything to compare it to, and she didn’t have any idea what love really was. 

It felt like a deep wound was scratched open, the scab pulled back, and a burning numbness gnawing at the bottom of her spine. It felt like it would swallow her whole, and Lexa hated, more than anything, giving anyone the power to do anything as such over her. 

Hey! Do you think this will go with your outfit?

An image came next, of Clarke in a dressing room wearing a very pretty dress, with very messy hair with her tongue sticking out. Lexa didn’t notice the gnawing feeling disappear. 

We don’t have to match completely. 

We do! Don’t you know how to date?

Not really. 

Another picture of another dress came a moment later. Clarke was pretty. She was happy and silly and kind. It felt oddly normal, for as crazy as the whole scheme actually was. 

I like that one, Lexa wrote, making sure to add a heart-eyed emoji to emphasize her point. Maybe that was flirting. Maybe she was allowed. She definitely needed more rules. 

Good, I do too. It matches your tie, you know? And these heels will still leave you a little taller than me. 

Sounds good to me!

Kind of excited. I guess I’ll see you at the airport tomorrow. 

I’ll be the one at the bar. 

I’ve heard it’s possible to find your soulmate at the airport. Something about the crossing of paths and time and space. 

If my soulmate is a bottle of wine, then I reckon I might. 

A love story for the ages. 

Lexa smiled once more at her phone before tossing it to the side and letting her head drop to the desk. With a groan she growled into her hands and broke it down. She just needed to make it seventy-two hours. That was it. She could sleep for about twenty of those. She could drink for another twenty or more, if she really tried. 

But this was it. This was the end. 

And regardless of the weight of everything else, there was something satisfying about knowing it was almost over. 

XXXXXXXXXX

The airport was absolutely teaming with bodies and people, weaving their way through the swelling crowds, loading and unloading the terminals at a constant, steady thumping rate, so regular one could set a watch to the heartbeat of the building. 

Clarke adjusted her bag on her shoulder and tapped the ticket against her thigh as she moved through the security line. The nerves were coming for some reason. That was why she was at the airport three hours before the flight. She was anxious and needed a stiff drink and a few moments to catch her breath. She needed to escape the whirlwind she’d allowed herself to create. 

Carefully, she made her way through the airport, checking the boards and finding her way to a seat in the empty waiting room. Not even an attendant waited at the kiosk. 

Once again, she let herself awkwardly scroll on her phone, learning everything she could about her future date and weekend plans. 

Lexa was nearly non-existent online. She didn’t have any pictures of herself. She rarely posted anything on her personal account, and when she did, it was just a book or a coffee or from a trip. She wasn’t one to enjoy being the center of attention, but when it came to her shop, she made sure to post almost daily, highlighting her employees and their recommendations, she made share to highlight events, she made sure to be as active as possible. 

Anya had already warned Clarke that her sister was devoted to her work. She’d poured all of her effort into being successful and part of the community, and Clarke admired it, she just wished that there was more for her to see. 

And so, once more, she flipped back to the long line of questions they’d filled out before giving up and gazing out the window at the planes coming and going. 

For a moment, she allowed herself to think that she was doing something nice and good. It was an act of charity. It was the shake up Clarke needed and was selfishly trying to package as benevolent. 

“You beat me, and I’m usually the first one here for a flight,” Lexa observed, walking up to Clarke, stealing her from her reverie. 

“I like airports. Just waiting for true love to stroll up and introduce themselves.”

Lexa shoved her hands in her pockets, her bag balanced on her shoulder as she cautiously looked around, surveying the empty terminal slowly. Clarke watched her look around, smiled at the innocence of it. Enjoyed the way she ran her hand through her hair, mussing it up a bit and tossing it to another side. 

“No one likes airports,” Lexa shook her head before taking the seat beside her. 

“I do. They’re romantic.” 

“Romantic?” 

“You can get onto a plane, and a few hours later, you’re hundred of miles away, and it’s different weather, and it’s a different time zone. You can go to sleep in a different state. How can you not be romantic about that.”

“It’s a tin can filled with recycle air.” 

“But there are peanuts.” 

That did it. Lexa cracked a smile to herself and relaxed a little. 

“I was going to be the first one here. Surprise you with coffee, but you beat me to it.” 

“You are quite a good girlfriend. Someone clearly trained you well.” 

Lexa shook her head, somewhat bashful, somewhat reserved. There was always something right there, just below the surface, obfuscated by a kind of resolve to never give anything away, not at any price. Clarke read it between words in their texts and emails, a glaring finality in the simple pixel of a period. 

“Can I get you a coffee? Two creams, two sugar right?”

“You don’t have to--”

“It’s early and I’m trying to be charming. Allow me to somewhat repay you for this whole endeavour.”

“Sounds good. Thanks, darling.” 

With the term of endearment, Lexa nodded, grinning into her chest as she stood and made her way across the terminal in search of sustenance. Clarke watched her take out her phone, texting her sister no doubt. 

Once more, Clarke resumed the digging on her own, scrolling on her own phone at old pictures on Lexa’s profile. She was ready for fun, and she was ready to crack at that facade. 

“I don’t know if this will help,” Lexa sighed as she sat down. “I didn’t sleep a wink last night.” 

“Oh this won’t be good for me either,” Clarke said as she took a sip. “I’m a fairly nervous flyer.”

“And yet you let me get us both coffee.” 

“You made a good point, and I’m prepared to be paid back all weekend.” 

With another grin, Lexa leaned back, her arm going on the back of the chair that Clarke inhabited, naturally, with ease, with a level of comfort. 

“Are you ready to tell me the story?” 

“Which one is that?” Clarke turned to look at her date, returned from an absent moment. 

“How we met.” 

“How we met,” she nodded, her smile bordering on mischievous. “That’s simple. Don’t you remember? It was a very blustery Tuesday, and I was trying to escape the wind and rain. I almost tripped coming into your coffee shop, but you happened to be sweeping, and were kind enough to catch me.”

“You’re severely overestimating my reflexes.” 

“Fine. I ran you over and we both ended up on our asses in the middle of the coffee shop. Coffee everywhere.” 

“Sounds pretty likely.” 

“And I knew right there, I was hooked. Those eyes, all angry and annoyed at me for not looking where I was going, despite my persistent defense that I’d been assaulted by the weather.” 

“Why do I have to be the angry one?” 

“Wouldn’t you be though?” Clarke returned, daring her to be contradicted.

“Maybe,” Lexa agreed over the lid of her cup, fretting with it nervously. 

“So I crashed into you, and you bought be a coffee. I turned up every day after that until I finally asked you out. You took longer than I would have liked to answer me, but I accepted it anyway, and we’ve been madly in love ever since.” 

“And when was this?” 

“About eight months ago.” 

“How’s it going so far?” 

“Splendidly. I’ve already met your sister, who it happens that I work with, which is super convenient for everyone.” 

Quietly, Lexa sat there, going over the story, going over all of the past eight months of apparent bliss in her head. Clarke watched her furrow before softening, her eyes not seeing, but rather looking through the window as a plane took off and another landed. The softening of her features was soon met with a perplexion, a slight, gentle contortion of the brow and the lips, a tightening as a kind of confusion overtook the ease of the entire story. 

“Is it that easy?” Lexa asked quietly, turning her head toward her date. Clarke cocked her head, waiting for more. “Is all of it… just… a wind? Waiting for someone to just ask you out? Is it that easy? Does that happen to people?” 

“It can. How does anything happen in the world? It just… does. The universe is just a series of things happening, all of the time, right?”

“But is it that easy?”

To her credit, Clarke thought about it. She flexed her jaw and took a deep breath before slowing letting it go as she wondered if it really was. 

“I don’t know. Maybe it can be.” 

“How?”

“I guess there has to be a balance to making things happen and letting things happen.” 

“I don’t know if I’m good at either of those things,” Lexa confessed. She sat up straighter a moment later, afraid of her honesty, and surprised more by how easily it came out. 

“I think you can be.”

“That’s probably too kind.” 

“We’ll see.” 

Clarke rubbed Lexa’s shoulder, rubbed the middle of her back between her shoulder blades until she reached the collar of her shirt, where she massaged her neck. She tensed before relaxing, and Clarke didn’t stop, just rubbed there gently, slowly until she knew it was enough and she trailed her palm back toward the seat. 

It was right there, they just didn’t know it.

[shhh-no-ones-home]

to love and leave behind steve rogers x reader x bucky barnes

+++++++++

this is Steve x reader x Bucky following the events of endgame

prompt: She has a strong fondness for Bucky but she knew that was never gonna happen. So she agreed to go out with Steve when he asked. they had been dating for a while and then the snap happened. five years come and go and she knows its Steve's turn to find happiness. and who knows, maybe she and Bucky can too.

Also from a thought that captain America is pro-choice so themes of that and mentions of abortion and pregnancy

Song: miss you in a heartbeat by def Leppard

tag list: @cynic-spirit +++++++++

I stood next to Steve by one of the vans as Bruce set up the new time machine. It had taken a short bit to get everything in order again but Scott pitched in so that helped a lot. Now it was just the five of us; Bucky, Sam, Bruce, Steve, and me. And we were all anxiously waiting the outcome of today's events. To fix what was broke and to put back the stones. And as exciting as that was I still felt a heaviness on my heart about the conversation that had to happen. It was almost time. The other guys were standing around waiting for him.

"Hey Steve, I have to tell you something. Before you go."

I said softly, barely audible as I slumped my way out of the driver seat. He looked confused, brows drawn.

"Go?"

He asked and I sent him a look before rubbing my hand down my arm.

"I don't want it to change your mind though."

I managed, trying to avoid his gaze but desperately wanting to remember him like this.

"Okay?"

I took a deep breath, staring over his concern stricken face.

"I was doing my physical the other morning, right? and, uh... I'm pregnant."

His smile grew so wide as he stepped to me, hands at my elbows.

"What?! That's great!"

He was so enthusiastic. But I shook my head.

"I wanted you to know before I made my decision, but, I don't know if I can do this."

His face fell slowly.

"What do you mean?"

He knew exactly what I meant.

"I can't take care of a baby. Especially not without help."

He paused as realization struck him. He knew that I knew what was happening today.

"Plus i know it would tear you up inside. With you leaving and all."

He opened his mouth twice before speaking.

"Y/n i-"

"It's okay Steve. I'm not trying to stop you. In fact I want you to be happy. And I know that's not here. It never was."

He tightened his jaw.

"But terminating? I understand that it's completely your decision but you always talked about how hard it would be for you to even have kids and how much you wanted one when it came time."

I shook my head quickly.

"I can't keep it. It wouldn't be fair to either of us. Or it. No matter how much I want it."

"And thats your choice?"

He said a little defeated. He knew it didn't matter. No matter how excited I was when I found out or how much I was anticipating carrying through. But that was before I knew there was a possibility he could be with her again. And before I knew I'd be doing this alone. It took me two days to come to terms with the fact that he should know before he leaves. So here we were.

"we've been together for seven years Steve, I know you well enough to know you're leaving."

"I don't have to."

He said just above a whisper, his hands making their way to my hips.

"We both know that's a lie. From the moment we found out it would work we knew you were going. It's okay."

We both just stared at each other for a moment, trying not to cry. He knew I always hid my emotions well, something that took both of us a good time to learn and work around. But now I didn't know if I wanted to. The only thing I guess keeping me from crying, sobbing, holding him close again, was the want for him to finally be happy. Even if it broke me a little on the inside. But we both knew we were truly in love with different people.

"I do love you." he said softly.

"And I you. But this wasn't forever."

I moved his hands off my hips and held them in mine.

"I guess it never really was."

"No. more of a place holder until we could be where we really belong."

He looked down at them connected for a moment before looking back to my face.

"You gonna talk to him?"

I half shrugged.

"Maybe we could bond over losing you."

I joked, a smile tugging at the edge of his lips.

"Maybe you could learn from each other. He needs you just as much as you need him."

I sighed.

"Think he'll want it?"

I was almost serious but I doubted he would.

"The baby?"

He asked a little dumfounded and I snorted.

"Steven grant Rogers Jr?"

He laughed, shaking his head.

"He's getting better."

"So was I."

He sent me a look.

"You still are."

"I'll miss you Steve."

I admitted, him pulling me into a tight hug. And I finally let a tear slip.

"I'll miss you too y/n. I'll always keep you in my heart."

He whispered before pulling away, still holding me in his arms.

"Don't forget about me okay?"

I croaked out.

"How could I? You changed my life."

He offered a small smile.

"I love you Steve."

He leaned forward and kissed me gently, resting his forehead against mine afterwards.

"Take care of each other and everything will be alright."

°°°°°°°°°

He asked if I wanted to come over to be with them but I couldn't do it. I'd much rather sit here in the van with my own thoughts and emotions than any of them see me cry again. I could still see everyone and everything that was happening and I wasn't quite sure if that was worse or not. Bucky had his hands in his pockets, a sadness over him, and Sam had a very enthusiastic demeanor. But he didn't know. Not like we did. That hurt. Losing love always does.

I blinked out a few more tears as I got back out of the van, walking to the end of it and watching them intently. Steve was on the platform, shield and hammer in hand. He looked from them to me and I offered the smallest smile but it was better than nothing. I just hoped he knew exactly how much I did care for him and how okay I was with him going. After all, he deserved his happy ending. The man out of time.

When I heard Sam and Bruce arguing I figured that was my queue. It was one slow, shaky step after another to get to where they were. Then Bucky said something and all our attention made it's way to a figure sitting at the edge of the clearing. Without a second thought my hand was over my mouth and I tried my hardest to hold the sob threatening to spill from my lips. I looked to the sky and wiped the few tears away, taking a labored breath. I swallowed hard, shook my head, and kept on my mission. When I made it to Bucky he offered a broken smile, leaning into me as I slipped my arm into his. We were silent for a moment as we watched Sam talk to Steve. He looked like he had changed so much but also not at all. But he looked happy and that's what mattered. Even if it broke all of us.

"This isn't going to be easy."

I said just above a whisper and he nodded.

"What was it that he always said? We do this together?"

I half laughed, looking to the ground and kicking a stick lightly.

"Walk with me?

I asked, looking back to him and He nodded. It was fairly leisurely as we turned and passed Bruce, still flipping switches and turning the machine off. But there was a wracking at my brain as I held onto to Bucky for dear life. There was probably a million things to say but I knew what needed to be heard because it was the same thing on my mind.

"Ya know he didn't belong here. He never really did."

I looked up at him and he swallowed hard.

"That doesn't make it any easier."

I hummed softly.

"No it doesn't. What does though is knowing that he still believes in us, even if we don't believe in ourselves."

His pace got slower.

"I'm gonna miss him."

I swallowed hard.

"We all will. But you know just like I do that he had to leave. He found his purpose a long time ago and it wasn't here with us."

The tears were threatening again and he stopped.

"What about you?"

I looked over his stone cold features for a moment as he stared down at me. I ran my thumb over his arm lightly.

"I made peace with it. I've been in love with someone else for a while. since we met anyway. He knew that. And he knew that the people we were meant for weren't available. So we stayed together."

His head hung low.

"Oh. So you've found someone else already?"

He looked back to me with a different form of sadness behind his eyes.

"Bucky-"

"No it's okay, I'm glad you have. I guess everyone's moving on."

I shook my head.

"Buck I'm talking about you."

He deadpanned.

"You are?"

I nodded slowly, trying to choose my words carefully.

"I've known since the day we met. I was meant to be with you. Sometimes you just know, you feel it. But you weren't ready and that's okay."

We started walking again.

"But you and steve-"

"Had a mutual understanding to fill each other's needs until we could make it back to our own person. even if it was seven years of dating and living together and just carrying on. we were happy for the most part. like living with a friend."

i squeezed his arm.

"but ive known it was supposed to be you. And i know we've been working through things together, its brought us closer. and if you're ready I'd love to try this more than friends thing. But if not that's okay too. I've waited this long."

I let out a short laugh.

"I've been working so hard."

He said and I looked to him.

"as a young man there was nothing I wanted more than to settle down and start a family. But I don't want to hurt you. I still don't trust myself and you've held me enough nights to know the nightmares still linger."

I stopped him and stood in front of him so we were facing each other. I placed my hands firmly on his arms and he tensed. I looked intently between his eyes.

"Bucky you could never hurt me."

I said sternly.

"Who else has visited you and dealt with the nightmares since you've been here? Who else knows more about you than Steve? Who has voluntarily been your partner and your friend?"

He looked down a little ashamed as I kept going.

"Buck, I know with the snap it's been a while but that doesn't change how I feel. Relationships Are about growth and sacrifice."

He nodded slowly.

"Yeah I guess you're right. And I guess Part of me has been waiting for a long time to hear that from you."

I reached up and cupped his face, running my thumb over his check bone as he smiled down at me.

"So you wanna try this whole dating thing?"

"I'd love to. If you'll have me."

He said a little unsure. I swallowed hard as realization struck me. Well that or the nausea.

"Before we do this I do need to tell you something."

He looked a little concerned

"Okay?"

"It came up earlier and I don't want it to change how you feel about me or us because I'm still on the fence about my decision. But I'm pregnant."

He just stared at me for a long while, eyes wide.

"I didn't want it to be the deciding factor on Steve staying or not and I've been thinking about aborting it. I won't be able to do this on my own and it's not fair to dump this on you either-"

"Hey, no no no no no, I get it's your decision but if you want help. I can- I mean i may not be the best candidate but I've always wanted a family. And I'm not about to leave someone I care about behind because something like that came up. im still learning and finding myself again but if you want help... im more than happy to lend a hand."

I looked over this face again. He seemed serious.

"Are you sure? I don't want to push this on you when you're already so unsure about yourself. I was gonna make an appointment tomorrow-"

"No, don't even worry about it. Maybe this will be the push I need. I mean we've got mine months. I could be better by then. maybe not a lot but something is better than nothing. and like you said, when you know you know. We can be fully established by then, right?"

I smiled, his hands moving to my hips.

"With your pardon and starting over again in the real world yeah I think we can. If you don't mind taking care of a tiny Steve Rogers."

He laughed, cringing a little bit.

"Are we gonna tell them that?"

I laughed too and for once it felt like a weight off my shoulders.

"It's gonna be complicated because they obviously won't look like you but as far as I'm concerned this was a decision we make together, to be parents, so you'll still be their dad. If you want to be off course. Even if Steve is the one that made it."

He nodded, pulling me into a hug.

"Thank you for giving me a chance. I promise I won't mess this up."

I pulled away from him and kissed his cheek quickly.

"Bucky I love you. If you want to do this with me there is no way you could mess it up."

He smiled at me a genuine smile before kissing me gently. It was soft and caring and like a switch was flipped. When he pulled away he picked me up and I squealed, laughing as he buried his face in my neck.

"I love you too darlin'."

[secondpubertyscene]

8.14.21

This year has been one of major change. In Octavia Butler’s Parable of the Sower, there’s this quote, “God is Change. Beware: God exists to shape and be shaped,” and I think for the first time since reading it, I get what was being said. While I subscribe to the idea that there is a higher power of some kind, I also believe that we (as in, us as individuals) have great power as well. That power lies in our ability to change, to grow, to persevere. This year has been one of major change, and we really have to talk about it.

It is easy to look at this last year and think, “Well, that fucking sucked” because frankly, it did indeed fucking suck. I could write you a list of things that brought me great pain this year, unbelievable, undeniable, unrelenting pain that still lingers now. But, see, the beauty of it all is that none of that pain happens in a vacuum. Along with the pain, I’ve come through it all with more wisdom, more compassion, more empathy, more gratitude, more peace, more love, and more confidence. I’d like to share how those things all are connected, but first I would like to acknowledge something.

While I don’t know for sure if this is just an American thing, it does seem very clear that Americans aren’t fantastic at processing grief, death, and pain collectively. We often are encouraged to suck it up, to shut up about it, to not make others uncomfortable with our tears and trauma. I believe this is in large part due to the fact that American Exceptionalism doesn’t quite allow us to acknowledge when our systems have failed us or when we are suffering in the “greatest country in the world.” I don’t intend on participating in that toxic positivity or to dismiss the seriousness of the year past. I simply intend on acknowledging the nuances of my experiences, the complexity of it all. Now, let’s begin.

Without recounting every moment in large detail (in part because that would be far too much and also because I don’t need to relieve my traumas today), the events of the last year have been as follows: 1) COVID hit, 2) I had a severe emotional breakdown that resulted in a short stay at the hospital, 3) my grandma passed away, 4) I broke up with my partner of a year, 5) I was officially diagnosed with adult ADHD (inattentive), 6) I got into a PhD program for sociology (fully-funded), and 7) I moved to Ohio (two weeks ago now). So much happened in what feels like a blink of an eye. When you’re a kid, you think a year lasts forever. Now, a year feels like a couple months!

Anyhow, all of these things had super intense negative impacts on my life and most of them had super intense positive impacts on my life. Let’s talk about how. I won’t say that COVID had any “positive” impact on my life, because it’s still currently making things difficult and it is still destroying lives (full worlds) every day. The emotional breakdown that I experienced shortly after COVID began, however, was the impetus for some of the greatest change I would ever make in my life. It began with new therapy, medication for the first time ever to treat my mental illnesses, and a new relationship with boundaries.

Out of this breakdown, I came to realize a few things. 1) I wasn’t really feeling most of my life up until that point. That isn’t to say that I didn’t feel at all or that I wasn’t aware of my feelings all the time, but to say that most of the time, I numbed everything out that was too hard to bear. I didn’t cry, I didn’t write, I didn’t even take the time to try to identify exactly what emotions I did feel. I just lived through it and waited until I felt better. Or, I would breakdown with rage and then feel better. Therapy, especially the group therapy I participated in for a couple weeks after leaving the hospital, changed that in huge ways for me.

Because I was able to sit in my pain, in my discomfort, I was able to actually work through some of my issues. I began to identify the areas in my life that made me genuinely unhappy and began to grant myself permission to feel disappointment. I granted myself the permission to expect more, to want more. I granted myself the permission to set boundaries without guilt or shame. I granted myself freedom. It is an ongoing journey of mistakes and back-peddling and trying again, but it is mine and I am proud of it. Had I not had that breakdown, I don’t know that I would be where I am now.

My grandma dying is one of the most painful things I’ve experienced and honestly, I haven’t dealt with it all the way yet. I didn’t get to say goodbye to her in person, I still am battling the feelings of guilt despite knowing that there likely was nothing I could have done, and my chest still feels heavy thinking about her. Even as I write this, I feel that pain. I know she is not truly gone and that she lives within me, but oh, I do miss her physical presence. The nagging, the phone calls, the hugs, the cooking, her soft hair and beautiful hands. I miss her. Because of her, though, I have been able to rehabilitate another relationship in my life. The relationship I share with my mother.

My mother is a lot of things, but for whatever reason I continually forgot that she too is a victim of hardship brought on by nothing but sheer luck. In this last year, she lost her mother, the man that she loved, multiple cousins, friends that went back to childhood, and who knows who else. She suffered a lot this year and she has suffered a lot over the course of her 61 years of life overall. For the first time, I have been able to really acknowledge her as a full being with a complex history and understand her as a person, rather than just as a parent. I’ve set new boundaries with her as a result, boundaries that have completely change the dynamic of our relationship and will continue to do so as we both learn more about each other. Gone are the days where she relies solely on me for emotional support or financial support. Gone are the days where she feels comfortable talking down to me and then expecting any kind of favors from me. She understands and respects that I am an adult, that I am independent, and that I can terminate our relationship should it get to a point where I feel unsafe again. While this might sound like a threat or even negative, it is in fact quite the contrary.

We now share the belief that I deserve better from her and that my continued relationship with her is founded upon our mutual growth. That’s a beautiful thing that arose from us being pulled together by the loss of someone we both loved more than we maybe even loved ourselves. Thankfully, though, I have come to love myself more than anyone else on this planet. This newfound self-love and respect resulted in the severing of my relationship with my partner.

I won’t pretend like my ex was this horrible person because she wasn’t. She was kind, loving, intelligent, hilarious, unique, complex, and so many other amazing things. I still love her with all of my heart and have thought about her every single day since we broke up. It is not for lack of love that our relationship came to a close. The issue was that I needed more than what she could give. I needed someone who could really sit in my shit with me without invalidating my feelings jokingly because they didn’t know what else to say. I needed someone who could make me feel safe and secure, not fearful and insecure. I needed someone who understood boundaries as openings for futures, not closed doors. I needed someone who could show up for me the way I showed up for them, even when they hurt me, even when they lied out of fear. She wasn’t able to do that. She wasn’t able to stick beside me during the worst days of my life. She wasn’t able to see me beyond our relationship. When my grandma passed and our relationship was on the rocks, she made it about us. She didn’t stop pestering me about our relationship for long enough to give me support on losing someone who meant the world to me. I couldn’t trust her after that and I also realized, I wasn’t required to.

Boundaries in that relationship weren’t healthy. I felt unseen, unprotected, and sometimes even unloved. While I am sure that she has grown even more since we have parted, the reality is that when I ended things, I knew that doing so was the most fair thing I could do for the both of us. This is because I deserve someone who sees my value inherently. I deserve someone who takes the time to understand me, to love me, to see me. Not just see me and them together, but me as an individual separate from them. More importantly, I needed to be able to ask for those things without feeling guilty or bad. As of now, I still don’t know that she sees me as me, as a singular person, and maybe she never will. That is okay. I still love her anyway. I just love me more now. As a part of that love I’ve grown for myself, I also now have sought out more help for myself. This seeking of resources led me to realizing that I was ADHD and helped me change my life.

Being diagnosed with ADHD at 21 felt absolutely ridiculous. How could I be ADHD when I can sit still most of the time and have a pretty decent amount of impulse control? The answers came from my psychiatrist, breaking down the stereotypical understanding of ADHD and allowing me to find myself within the diagnosis. Finding the right combination of medication has been difficult, but what hasn’t been hard at all is finding more resources that help me manage my symptoms. It’s because of some of these resources that I am able to sit here and write this.

A huge part of ADHD is this perfectionist mentality that makes it nearly impossible to start or complete some tasks. Every time I sat down to write in the past, I told myself that I absolutely had to write every single day, once a day, or I should just not do it. When it came to this blog especially, I had so much shame when I failed to post for a long time or had a lull, that I would either consider deleting the whole thing to start over, or just never posting again. I realize now that those were just cop outs for my brain, that I can write as little or as much as I want because it is for ME. It doesn’t have to be perfect; it doesn’t have to be anything but what I need it to be. Waiting for perfection would have me waiting forever because it’s simply not how my brain works. Accepting that is a large part of how I got into my PhD program.

I’m not going to lie. I am still trying to figure out all of the feelings I have regarding this PhD program. I am shocked that I got in, shocked that I got full-funding, shocked that I am now in Ohio, shocked that I am in my own apartment, and overall shocked that I’ve made it this far in general. While I do not believe that I am stupid or not capable of greatness, I am realizing that I’ve always seen myself pursuing something more straightforward. When I was younger, I had a pretty clear idea of what I wanted to do even as those things changed. I knew what was required of me, I knew what I would ultimately do, and I took refuge in that. Doctors go to medical school. Chefs go to culinary school. Forensic anthropologists get masters degrees and do field work. It felt clear cut, straightforward, safe. This is uncharted territory. What do you do post PhD? What do you do DURING PhD years? I suppose I’ll just have to find out!

Anyhow, this year has been intense. Change is always present in our lives and sometimes it brings with gifts that we can only receive when we’re healed enough to take them. I’m hoping to keep healing, keep growing, keep loving, and keep going. I’m learning so much about myself and about the world. I’m loving myself more than I have in the past. I am incredibly proud of where I am. And I’m not done yet.

[velvetdestroya]

A Vigil, On Birds and Glass. I woke up this morning still dreaming, or not fully aware of myself just yet. The sun poked through the windows, touching my face, and then a deep sadness overcame me, immediately, bringing me to life and realization- My Chemical Romance had ended. I walked downstairs to do the only thing I could think of to regain composure- I made coffee. As the drip began, in that kind of silence that only happens in the morning, and being the only one awake, I stepped outside my home, leaving the door open behind me. I looked around and began to breathe. Things looked to be about the same- a beautiful day. As I turned to step back into the house I heard sound from within, a chirp and a rustle. And I noticed a small brown bird had flown into the library. Naturally, I panicked. I knew I had to see the bird to safety and I knew I had to retain the order of things in our home, and he very well couldn’t take up residency with us. I chased him (still assuming he was a he) into my office, where I have these very large windows. Just then, and luckily, I heard Lindsey’s footsteps coming down the stairs, and naturally being composed as she is, she grabbed a blanket and stepped into the office. He was impossible to catch, and I began to open the windows, via Lindsey’s direction, only to find out they were screened. The bird began to fly into the glass, over and over and in all different directions. Smack. Smack. Smack! I heard another set of footsteps, Bandit’s, running down the stairs in anticipation of the new day. Her entrance into the situation caused just the right amount of chaos (she was very excited to meet the bird) and we found ourselves chasing the bird into the living room. Knowing that this where it could potentially get sticky, being the high ceilings and the beams to perch on, I opened the front door as Lindsey did her best to encourage our new friend out the door. After some coaxing, flying, chirping, a wrong turn back into the library and a short goodbye to Bandit, he simply hopped out the front door- taking off on the fifth leap. We cheered. I was no longer sad. I didn’t realize it, but I stopped being sad the minute that bird had come into my life, because there was something that needed doing, a small vessel to aid and an order to keep. I closed the door. I decided to write the letter I always knew I would. It is often my nature to be abstract, hidden in plain sight, or nowhere at all. I have always felt that the art I have made (alone or with friends) contains all of my intent when executed properly, and thus, no explanation required. It is simply not in my nature to excuse, explain, or justify any action I have taken as a result of thinking it through with a clear head, and in my truth. I had always felt this situation involving the end of this band would be different, in the eventuality it happened. I would be cryptic in its existence, and open upon its death. The clearest actions come from truth, not obligation. And the truth of the matter is that I love every one of you. So, if this finds you well, and sheds some light on anything, or my personal account and feelings on the matter, then it is out of this love, mutual and shared, not duty. Love. This was always my intent. My Chemical Romance: 2001-2013 We were spectacular. Every show I knew this, every show I felt it with or without external confirmation. There were some clunkers, sometimes our secondhand gear broke, sometimes I had no voice- we were still great. It is this belief that made us who we were, but also many other things, all of them vital- And all of the things that made us great were the very things that were going to end us- Fiction. Friction. Creation. Destruction. Opposition. Aggression. Ambition. Heart. Hate. Courage. Spite. Beauty. Desperation. LOVE. Fear. Glamour. Weakness. Hope. Fatalism. That last one is very important. My Chemical Romance had, built within its core, a fail-safe. A doomsday device, should certain events occur or cease occurring, would detonate. I shared knowledge of this “flaw” within weeks of its inception. Personally, I embraced it because, again, it made us perfect. A perfect machine, beautiful, yet self aware of it’s system. Under directive to terminate before it becomes compromised. To protect the idea- at all costs. This probably sounds like something ripped from the pages of a four-color comic book, and that’s the point. No compromise. No surrender. No fucking shit. To me that’s rock and roll. And I believe in rock and roll. I wasn’t shy about who I said this to, not the press, or a fan, or a relative. It’s in the lyrics, it’s in the banter. I often watched the journalists snicker at mention of it, assuming I was being sensational or melodramatic (in their defense I was most likely dressed as an apocalyptic marching-band leader with a tear-away hospital gown and a face covered in expressionist paint, so fair enough). I’m still not sure if the mechanism worked correctly, because it wasn’t a bang but a much slower process. But still the same result, and still for the same reason- When it’s time, we stop. It is important to understand that for us, the opinion on whether or not it is in fact time does not transmit from the audience. Again, this is to protect the idea for the benefit of the audience. Many a band have waited for external confirmation that it is time to hang it up, via ticket sales, chart positioning, boos and bottles of urine- input that holds no sway for us, and often too late when it comes anyway. You should know it in your being, if you listen to the truth inside you. And voice inside became louder than the music. Now- There are many reasons My Chemical Romance ended. The triggerman is unimportant, as was always the messengers- but the message, again as always, is the important thing. But to reiterate, this is my account, my reasons and my feelings. And I can assure you there was no divorce, argument, failure, accident, villain, or knife in the back that caused this, again this was no one’s fault, and it had been quietly in the works, whether we knew it or not, long before any sensationalism, scandal, or rumor. There wasn’t even a blaze of glory in a hail of bullets… I am backstage in Asbury Park, New Jersey. It is Saturday, May 19th, 2012 and I am pacing behind a massive black curtain that leads to the stage. I feel the breeze from the ocean find its way around me and I look down at my arms, which are covered in fresh gauze due to a losing battle with a heat rash, which had been a mysterious problem in recent months. I am normally not nervous before a show but I am certainly filled with angry butterflies most of the time. This is different- a strange anxiety jetting through me that I can only imagine is the sixth sense one feels before their last moments alive. My pupils have zeroed-out and I have ceased blinking. My body temperature is icy. We get the cue to hit the stage. The show is… good. Not great, not bad, just good. The first thing I notice take me by surprise is not the enormous amount of people in front of us but off to my left- the shore and the vastness of the ocean. Much more blue than I remembered as a boy. The sky is just as vibrant. I perform, semi-automatically, and something is wrong. I am acting. I never act on stage, even when it appears that I am, even when I’m hamming it up or delivering a soliloquy. Suddenly, I have become highly self-aware, almost as if waking from a dream. I began to move faster, more frantic, reckless- trying to shake it off- but all it began to create was silence. The amps, the cheers, all began to fade. All that what left was the voice inside, and I could hear it clearly. It didn’t have to yell- it whispered, and said to me briefly, plainly, and kindly- what it had to say. What it said is between me and the voice. I ignored it, and the following months were full of suffering for me- I hollowed out, stopped listening to music, never picked up a pencil, started slipping into old habits. All of the vibrancy I used to see became de-saturated. Lost. I used to see art or magic in everything, especially the mundane- the ability was buried under wreckage. Slowly, once I had done enough damage to myself, I began to climb out of the hole. Clean. When I made it out, the only thing left inside was the voice, and for the second time in my life, I no longer ignored it- because it was my own. There are many roles for all of us to play in this ending. We can be well-wishers, ill-wishers, sympathizers, vilifiers, comedians, rain clouds, victims- That last one, again, is important. I have never thought myself a victim, nor my comrades, nor the fans- especially not the fans. For us to adopt that role right now would legitimize everything the tabloids have tried to name us. More importantly, it completely misses the point of the band. And then what have we learned? With honor, integrity, closure, and on no one’s terms but our own- the door closes. And another opens- This morning I awoke early. I quickly brushed my teeth, threw on some baggy jeans, and hopped in my car. I gently sped down the 405 through the morning fog to a random parking lot in Palo Verde, where I was to meet a nice gentleman named Norm. He was older, and a self-proclaimed “hippie” but he also had the energy of Sixteen year old in a garage-rock band. The purpose of the meeting was the delivery of an amplifier into my possession. I had recently purchased the amp from him and we both agreed that shipping would jostle the tubes- so he was kind enough to meet me in the middle. A Fender Princeton Amp from 1965, non reverb. A beautiful little device. He showed me the finer points, the speaker, the non-grounded plug, the original label and the chalk mark of the man or woman who built it- “This amp talks.” he said. I smiled. We got coffee, talked about gold-foil pickups and life. We sat in the car and played each other music we had made. We parted ways, promising to stay in touch, I drove home. When I wanted to start My Chemical Romance, I began by sitting in my parent’s basement, picking up an instrument I had long abandoned for the brush- a guitar. It was a 90’s Fender Mexican Stratocaster, Lake Placid Blue, but in my youth I had decided it was too clean and pretty so I beat it up, exposing some of the red paint underneath the blue- the color it was meant to be. Adding a piece of duct tape on the pick guard, it felt acceptable. I plugged this into a baby Crate Amp with built in distortion and began the first chords of Skylines and Turnstiles. I still have that guitar, and it’s sitting next to The Princeton. He has a voice, and I would like to hear what it has to say. In closing, I want to thank every single fan. I have learned from you, maybe more than you think you’ve learned from me. My only regret is that I am awful with names and bad with goodbyes. But I never forget a face, or a feeling- and that is what I have left from all of you. I feel Love. I feel love for you, for our crew, our team, and for every single human being I have shared the band and stage with- Ray. Mikey. Frank. Matt. Bob. James. Todd. Cortez. Tucker. Pete. Michael. Jarrod. Since I am bad with goodbyes. I refuse to let this be one. But I will leave you with one last thing- My Chemical Romance is done. But it can never die. It is alive in me, in the guys, and it is alive inside all of you. I always knew that, and I think you did too. Because it is not a band- it is an idea. Love, Gerard

(Source Rock Sound March 25, 2013) [photo credit; ashley bird]

[blue-maiden4]

Imagine the cabin scene in season two....but is Jesse×Lukas. What do you think would happen if you have headcannons?

Man, that one is hard, considering how that scene plays. But after thinking for a while, I came up with something.

I know you asked for headcannons, but it would be easier (and fun) to write a oneshot of this.

I haven’t wrote sutff in a long time, so I’m sorry if this isn’t that good. (Putting an undercut thing cause it’s kind of long)

Always there for you (Lukas x F. Jesse)

They were finally here, the place where the key to defeating Admin lays within the small cabin. Without wasting any second, Jesse and Lukas headed inside.

“Let’s hurry up and find that weapon, can’t be that hard to find, after all, this place is small,” Jesse said as she began looking in the only room of the cabin.

“Hey look at this” Jesse looked to an armor stand besides some book shelves “It’s just like the one we had at the treehouse”

“Oh, yeah, you’re right” Lukas said “Didn’t you always used to hit that thing with your sword?”

“I did, at least until someone broke it” Jesse frowned at the thought of it.

“Oh my god, I still remember the look on your face when Petra broke it!” Lukas tried his best not to burst out laughing “You started chasing her all over the place until she decided to go outside”

“Well, I told her to be careful! I had every right to be angry!” Jesse recalled, then went closer to one of the book shelves.

She grabs one book and looks at it with a soft smile.

“Hey Lukas, do you remember how we used to read almost everyday?”

“Of course, how could I ever forget? “Lukas started “Every night we would sit down and read together, sometimes you would ask me to read aloud a book while you just lay your head on my shoulder….It was such a nice feeling…” He smiled.

“Yeah….it was” Jesse said with a smile on her face, then looked around, her expression changed to a sad one “This place….it reminds a lot of the treehouse. Of how all of us used to spend time together there….What ever happened? We barely hang out nowadays….”

“Well, for starters, we have our own lives now, new responsibilities to tend to. You know better than anyone that we can’t do the things we used to do before” Lukas explained.

“I know….It’s just….Don’t you ever miss the old days? When used to go on adventures, traveled all over the world and found cool treasures?” Jesse asked.

“Sometimes….” Lukas started “If we put aside the near death experiences of our adventures, it was an amazing thing to do”

They remained silent for a moment. Things have changed a lot between all of them within a few years, will they even still be friends the more time passes by?

“Let’s just find that weapon and get out of here….” Jesse broke the silence.

It only took Jesse and Lukas a few minutes to find out there was a secret compartment under Xara’s bed. There was a book in it.

“Another journal from Fred” Jesse opened the book.

“What does it say?”

“Give me a moment” Jesse sat on a bed, cleared her throat and started reading.

“Dear Xara, if you're reading this, I’m already gone. I hid this in the one place I knew you would look for it. Fitting the key to ending all this would be here….where it all started.”

This is the key to defeating Romeo…”

“#Potato451” Jesse said confused.

“Wait, Potato? Did you read that right?” Lukas takes the book from her to see what it says “This is weird….hold on, there’s more on the next page”

"Take this word of passage and use it at the primary terminal. You can take away his powers and end this."

“Word of passage? Uh, I guess that’s the potato” Jesse commented, Lukas continues with the reading

“I still have hope for Romeo. He just wanted us to stay together...more than anything. I know that’s why he’s doing this. Maybe I’m being foolish but i need to know for sure before taking this step. Though I guess if you’re here, I got my answer.

Maybe someday we’ll be together again. Your friend, always...Fred.”

Jesse and Lukas had no idea what to say. The same Admin that has cause so much pain to many people, the one that has threatened their home and friends was once a nice person who only wanted to keep their friends together, unfortunately he did all of it the wrong way….

“Wow….I feel bad for them. This wasn’t easy…. for any of the admins” Jesse started “We thought the Admin was just a monster but, all he wanted to keep his friends together”

“Yet, he ended up killing one of his friends….” Lukas said dryly.

“I’m sure he didn’t mean to. He probably overreacted and just...acted without thinking, got controlled by his own rage….Just look around. Romeo did everything to preserve this place after the bedrocking. He probably feels guilty and has some regrets” Jesse said as she stood up from the bed.

“You have a point. This place is in good conditions. He would have destroyed this place if he didn’t care at all” Lukas pointed out.

“wait a moment….” Jesse gasped as realization had struck her “Isn’t this what Petra has been trying to do all this time? She-”

“She only wanted to keep us together….” Lukas continued “She didn’t wanted to lose us….”

“We are drifting away….just like admins did….”

“Jesse, this was something that was going to happen at some point, things change, but just because we don’t hang out as much as we used to, doesn’t mean we aren’t friends anymore”

“But that’s not how Petra sees it….” Jesse looked at the floor “How are we so sure that we won’t end up like the admins? They were so close too and look how it turned out ....”

“Jesse, look at me. Even if that happens, you have to know, I’m not going anywhere. I’ll always be by your side, no matter what” Lukas reassured her by holding her hands into his.

“Really?” Tears were starting to form in her face.

“Of course. And you wanna know why?” Jesse only looks at him, trying her best to hold back her tears. “Because you mean a lot to me Jesse, I deeply care about you, you’re everything to me”

That’s when Jesse couldn’t hold back the tears anymore and started crying. But she didn’t care, as she knew she could show her feelings near Lukas, their trust towards each other was that strong and big.

Almost immediately, Lukas embraced her in a hug to comfort her, as to let her know he was here, to make her feel safe and that no one will hurt her, not as long as he is here.

This is why she liked Lukas so much.

He was kind, sweet, understanding and many other things. She tried so hard no to fall for him, but that was almost impossible, and eventually just gave in.

“Lukas?” Jesse asked and he hummed in response “You mean a lot to me too” This made the blond smile.

Lukas looked back to the door, they needed to go back.

“Jesse, we have to go”

“Can we stay just for a little bit longer?” Jesse just wanted to enjoy this special moment for as long as she could, the rest of the world can wait a few more minutes.

“Of course” Lukas said.

The two of them stood like that, in each other's arms for a few more minutes. Just for a moment they want to forget about all the horrible things that happened, forget about everyone else and just enjoy their mutual company.

Knowing that Lukas would always be her side, made Jesse feel better. At least he was not going to leave her alone.

And she would do the same thing for Petra, no matter what or how far they’re, she will let her know she will always be there for her too and that she’s not going anywhere.

[lookwhatilost]

alright, so, i wanted to make one post about the cat person thing and be done with it forever, but my thoughts about it have been ping-ponging for the entire 7 hours of my shift because i tend to get lost in my own thoughts when i’m on service bar. and i need to vocalize or i will go crazier than i already am. so, let’s see, how should i condense a night’s worth of stream-of-consciousness into something vaguely resembling a post with a point? well, i don’t know if i can do that succinctly, so i’m shoving my best attempts under a cut.

so, the cat person story draws pretty heavily on these aesthetics that we’ve come to associate very heavily with nerdy misogynists. he’s the fedora tipper. he’s the brony with the friend zone complex. he’s coded in the way so that as a reader, it should come as no surprise that he’s the asshole, delusionally believing he’s a “nice guy,” and would call a woman a “whore” for rejecting him. but, as it turns out, the real robert in this story had a completely normal relationship with this woman who was several years his junior, and this toxic power dynamic thing is something kristen roupenian extrapolated from this guy’s instagram upon noticing he was a geeky dude who was previously dating a woman younger than him. the man who fit so neatly into the stereotype of how terrible men look, crammed into a story where he behaves terribly that’s meant to be cathartic for women to read about, was never a terrible man by any metric.

the reality behind the story almost feels like this bizarre, meta-textual commentary about how we all use one another in varying ways. or how we all fall into this trap of making these strange assumptions about other people based on something we’re projecting. or how we really have no way of knowing what the people around us are thinking. what bothered me the most when i read it was how emotionally difficult it was for the author feeling almost compelled to re-evaluate a relationship she remembered relatively fondly because it had been manipulated to fit this narrative of abusive power dynamics that had been foisted upon it with the basis of, well, nothing grounded in reality.

i wrote earlier about how my reaction to cat person was, and always has been, one of frustration from hearing female friends tell me that same story over and over, and getting irritated with them for repeatedly sleeping with men they had trouble assessing and being shocked every time when the bad signals coagulated into a clot of sheer disgust during sex. how i always wanted to grab them by the strings of their hoodies and yell “why are you so diametrically opposed to trusting your goddamn instincts? how have you not figured out that this inevitable result of hopping into bed with someone who’s making you uncomfortable?” knowing full well that i couldn’t convince them of this if they convinced themselves. relating not to margot, but a hypothetical friend that margot might have shared this story with. even that as an aside, there was this nebulous thing about it that bugged me, more that it echoing a story i was beyond sick of hearing, more than it’s shameless deployment of the m’lady stock character, more than reading it as someone who had been celibate for a year and not connecting with it as someone probably outside the intended audience. something about it just... picked at me. but i never thought too seriously about it. i ignored the annoying twitter discourse about it and didn’t find it compelling enough to actively hate so i basically just forgot about it

when i reread it this morning, my mind immediately went to thomas and milan (who is nb, but this example still works imo). they’re probably the closest thing to CatPerson_irl that I’ll ever encounter in my life. i used to work with thomas at b&b, just a profoundly horrible character from every angle. i’ve never met someone in my life who was easier to dislike. he was this 39 year old divorcee (though he looked considerably younger) who couldn’t go a day without using his ex as a punchline. his broader sense of humor came off like he’d stolen a master list of rejected jokes from South Park and married them with boomer comics. he vocally loved ben shapiro and pumping and dumping significantly younger women who weren’t aware of his geriatric status. milan, a 22 year old bar regular that I later befriended, was one of them. incidentally, milan is the same age that I was when I read that short story for the first time.

our mutual friends found it baffling that milan still spoke to him after admittedly feeling used and didn’t avoid the bar like the plague. especially thomas of all people, someone who didn’t even have enough self-awareness to hide his misogynistic ways and seemed to view everything with a vagina as a potential sexual conquest – myself included. we theorized that he had turned to pickup artistry after his divorce and we would all mock him relentlessly for it. but never did this in front of milan, who still felt some strange urge to defend him, even though they were in a relationship with someone else now and had no reason to do this.

the last thing on earth i want to do is concede that something as rotten as thomas could have anything resembling a soul, or depth, or charm, or goodness. but the more i think about it, the more i realize that i’ve had relationships of all flavors that have involved imbalanced power dynamics, and frankly, the jury’s still out on how i feel about them. i mentioned that part of my reason for revisiting it was seeing how i reacted to it in my post-andrew world, and i want to return to that thought.

some of you may remember the infamous story where andrew was drunk very early in the day. i was sitting with him on my couch and babysitting him, and he began getting very handsy with me. i told him that i was uncomfortable and to stop, so proceeded to undress before immediately losing consciousness and falling asleep on the couch. it was objectively not good, and while i struggled to process this through the sheer absurdity of it all, it was one of many incidents related to his alcoholism that would eventually lead to me terminating that relationship. but in spite of that, it’s hard for me to condemn him as a bad person entirely. he could be, it’s not really my place to weigh in on it. i look back on him and i feel a lot of good things, even with the awareness that he was a mean drunk who would frequently behave in strange, irrational ways in his inebriation. even if i could come to a conclusion, i don’t really know what that begets. i guess i’d be angrier at him, maybe, but i can’t say that it’s a useful thing to feel about something that happened years ago.

what really doesn’t make sense is how i feel angrier towards nikki, someone i confided in about this happening, who later forwarded the information i’d told her to this local abuser watch women’s group, saying that he tried to rape me. i was furious, and given a long list of extremely bizarre behavior, a lot of which involved removing most or all of his clothing before doing something strange, it’s hard to say that’s what even happened. it was a shameful moment for me, shameful that i didn’t see it as something that would indicate his future behavior, shameful that this information was being disseminated to people who knew we were together and knew we broke up. and i was angry at her for a long time for it, even if that’s not fair. and there are plenty of people who have done worse things to me than either of them, less legally defined as something like attempted rape (maybe?) and more vindictive than not being a friend to me in the way i need it, and it’s just shit i sit with and have this whole oil smear of complicated, contradictory, and not entirely rational feelings towards. and i feel sometimes that there’s this thing that happens in feminist or women’s spaces where it’s frowned upon to acknowledge how heavy this kind of confusion can be.

the “whore” at the end of cat person was meant to elicit a specific response, this kind of catharsis for a reader who saw it coming through it’s shameless m’lady stock character employment and feels validated through seeing it coming. this is what being a woman is. this is what navigating a dating pool in a world full of horrible men is. it shatters any lingering ambiguity or confusion that often comes with the territory of wondering if the revulsion is justified or just a mismatch in chemistry, or misreading of a room, and jettisons the idea that it could ever be more complicated than that. i guess that’s always what put me off about it. and i feel like that fictional story, juxtaposed against a real one it’s based on about unanswered questions that we won’t ever fully be able to hash out... something about that will always be more real to me.

[dirtydobrik]

last kiss - d.d.

plot: you and david are dating and you get a job in australia and have to leave for six months. you and david both don’t want to break up but the distance eventually becomes too much and you have to end things

requested: yes! omggg can u pls do an imagine based on the song last kiss by taylor swift and it’s just really angsty? i always imagine if David was to ever break up with someone again it would really destroy him bc of how hard his break up with Liza was, and he would be like crying holding you begging you to stay and work things out even though you both know it can’t work out for the time being, idk maybe y/n is moving countries and living really far like in Australia for work for six months or something

author’s note: hi! this piece is all over the place, im sorry. i didn’t have time to edit this, so sorry in advance if there are typos. this was requested anonymously so hopefully it was something similar to what you wanted. 

if you want to send in a request for an imagine, send me a message! i am super behind on requests right now but i have a few pieces in progress that i am working on. i am hopefully back to posting daily as i am trying to get caught up.

word count: 1415

masterlist

"You're unbelievable. Absolutely fucking unbelievable!" David shouted, slamming the white ceramic plate he was holding against the counter top. But you didn't even flinch.

"I'm allowed to make my own decisions!" You shouted back. You could tell David was on the verge of tears.

"You can't just accept a job in Australia without even talking to me about it! We live together for God's sake. I should have had a say in this decision!" David was angry. He was angry that you kept it a secret for so long and he was angry that you were leaving.

"It's not your decision to make! My life doesn’t revolve around you!" You yelled, instantly regretting the harsh words you just said to your boyfriend. David felt his heart shatter with those words. "David, I didn't mean that," you spoke softly, but there was an emptiness in David's eyes and you knew he didn't want to hear your apologies.

“Your life shouldn't have to revolve around me for you to talk to me about a new job before agreeing to it."

"David, I'll only be gone for six months," you argued.

"I can't leave the fucking country!" David shouted, tears spilling out of his eyes now. The moonlight crept in through the kitchen window, illuminating his glossy red eyes.

"Dave," you sighed, your heart aching. "I'm sorry. I know I should've talked to you about this before I took the job. But I thought you'd be happy for me. I thought everything would be okay between us," you rambled, but David didn't want to fight anymore, so he just stopped talking. And he stopped listening to whatever bullshit you were saying to try to save yourself. But it was too late. David was done.

He grabbed a duffle bag from his closet and started throwing random items of clothes into it. He didn’t care what he had, he just needed to get out of the house. Grabbing his keys, David ignored the begging and pleading from you to stay and talk it out. He sprinted out to the garage, tossed his bag in the backseat, and broke down in tears in the driver's seat. David didn’t know where to go, knowing that anywhere he went, he would be easily found by you. You two had spent the last two years together, there was practically nothing you didn't know about him. David threw his cellphone onto the passenger seat, and started the car. He didn’t know  where he was going, he just needed to get away.

David drove around aimlessly, just trying to clear his mind. He didn't know where to go or who to talk to. Everyone knew the two of you as this perfect couple and he couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that you made a life changing decision without even considering him or their relationship.

And it wasn't like you had taken a job in Chicago or New York or Boston or any other US city. Of course, he'd be mad if you had done that, but at least he'd be able to visit you. He couldn’t just book a flight to Australia and that's what hurt the most.

The sun was rising when David drove home. You were waiting up for him, desperately needing to talk. Sitting on the couch in one of his clickbait hoodie, you heard the front door swing open and immediately stood up to see David. His eyes were bloodshot and his hair was a mess. He looked tired and emotionless.

"Can we talk? Please?" you begged when he walked through the door. David sighed, but agreed, walking over to the couch and sitting next to you. "David, I'm so sorry. But it's only temporary. I'll be home before you know it and everything will be okay."

"We can't just put our relationship on hold for six months! And God, you know better than anyone that long distance relationships don't work out!" You froze. You couldn’t believe he was bringing up your past. "I mean, didn’t you say your move out to LA only temporary? You've been here for three fucking years. What's stopping you from moving to Australia forever?"

"You are!" you shouted.

"Oh, really? Is that the same thing your told your ex-boyfriend in New York before you moved out here? Look how that turned out," David scoffed and you felt sick to your stomach.

"Dave, what you and I have is nothing like what my ex and I had. I promise that I'll be coming back to you." You looked at  David, your eyes soft. "Six months, tops," you promised, and David sighed.

"I don't want you to leave."

"I know, bub. But I need to take this, it's huge for career." David understood that, he just didn't think you'd ever have to leave him for work. As much as it hurt him, he wasn't ready to let go of you.

 A few weeks later, all of your bags were packed and loaded into the trunk of David's Tesla. You had said your goodbyes to your friends last night, all of them promising to come out and visit you at some point, which only made David's heart ache more. He was trying to keep it together, but he knew that you two wouldn’t last, not with you being so far away and with him not being able to ever visit you.

The drive to the airport was filled with awkward silence and tension, both of you knowing what was coming but neither of you wanting to be the first to say it.

"Do you really have to go?" David asked, as you stood on the sidewalk outside the terminal. His eyes were watering and you quickly turned your head so he wouldn’t see your red eyes.

You swallowed and gave him a nod, knowing you wouldn’t be able to talk without breaking down.

"Please stay," he begged, his voice cracking as tears streamed down his face. Watching him cry made you cry. "I don't want to lose you."

"You aren’t losing me, Dave," you tried to reassure him, although neither of you were believing it. "Six months, tops. Remember?"

David choked out a sob and you instinctively wrapped your arms around his and rested your head on his chest. He begged you to stay and repeatedly said that things between you two would be okay. You weren't sure if he was trying to convince you or him, it was probably the both of you.

You gave him one last kiss before taking your bags and walking away. 

Trying to do long distance lasted about three weeks before it was too hard. You two were putting too much pressure on your relationship and trying to maintain it that it was unhealthy for the both of you. It was your idea to officially end things. You called him up in the middle of the night, although it was the middle of the day for David, and said you should break up. You told him that you still loved him and that you always would, but that it was too hard. You told him that you'd thought about it a lot and that it was too hard and too draining.

David's heart shattered with that phone call. He should have been expecting it, but he didn’t think it would come so quickly.

Breakups were hard, and David wasn't handling it well. He had now lost another person he loved and absolutely destroyed him. He couldn’t believe you had really left and he was questioning every part of your relationship. He couldn’t understand why you'd leave if you loved him. He had pictured himself marrying you and now you were gone.

It crushed him to see the pictures you posted from Australia and to see your friends visiting and raving to him when they came back. He couldn’t even bring himself to talk to you himself, he'd have mutual friends tell him about you, just to let him know that you were okay.

He wondered if you missed him as much as he missed you. It hurt David like hell to know that you were able to leave him with a broken heart, especially after everything he had told you about his breakup with Liza. He wanted you to change your mind and come back to him, but that didn't happen.  

He never thought you two would have a last kiss, and it left him heartbroken when he realized you did.

[cajunroe]

100. Put the knife down...I’m not going to hurt you. | AO3

Brad waits silently in the dark in a house that’s not his. He knows its dramatic, maybe overly so, but his line of work can be monotonous, and he takes his joys where he can. He gets wistful sometimes, he’ll admit, because people think being a hired gun is all action and adrenaline, but really it’s a lot of watching and waiting. Like he’s doing right now. So, he figures he’d mess with his target tonight and surprise them when they turn on the light upon entering the safety of their home.

The job was thrown at him only hours ago. A short email from the agency with orders to terminate the target that lived here. A short, stout man in his fifties that had been funding gun-running for years but only was just connected to larger operation earlier this day. He had to hand it to his work, the agency wasted no time in eliminating the bad guys.

He hears a car door slam and boots approach the front door.

He tightens the silencer, checks his safety is off and waits with his gun poised and sitting casually on the front staircase.

Nate notices something off from the half boot print in the mud of the bush next to his front door. He grabs the knife from his back pocket and holds it with the blade pointed outward, ready to strike, as he unlocks the door.

Even in the pitch-black darkness of his new home, he can tell that someone is here that shouldn’t be, sitting on his stairs.

He slowly set his keys and bag down, feigning ignorance.

Knife still in hand, he reaches for the light switch and braces himself.

The light flicks on. He turns quickly and is met with a long-legged, calm, blonde force. He laughs inwardly that his first thought isn’t “This man is going to kill me,” but rather “The man here to kill me is really attractive.”

He refocuses as the man’s face turns from calm indifference to annoyed confusion. Then, and only then, does his notice the gun aimed directly at his heart.

“Who are you? What do you want?” Nate asks firmly. He’s been out of the military for a while, but the training is not something you outgrow or forget.

The man rolls his eyes as he flicks his safety back on.

Nate watches the blonde stand up, impossibly taller as he stands on the bottom step of the staircase.

“Back off asshole. I’m a Marine.” Nate orders, knife poised to strike as soon as the intruder takes a step too close. The safety may be off, but a man like this could probably kill Nate with a paper clip.

The intruder smiles, sharp and dangerous, “Semper Fi.”

Nate balks at that.

The man speaks again, softer this time, “Put the knife down…I’m not going to hurt you.”

“Says the dick who broke into my home and just had a gun aimed at me.” Nate holds his knife tighter.

“My name is Brad if you wouldn’t mind using that instead of childish superlatives.”

Nate scoffs. The audacity.

Still, he figures Brad is the perfect name for a man with his stature and physique. Nate doesn’t realize he’s been staring at the man in front of him and lets his guard down until he feels the knife pulled from his grip in a smooth transfer.

“Good.” Brad comments, the proximity making Nate’s heart race, from adrenaline or attraction he’s not sure.

Brad continues, “Now technically, this isn’t supposed to be your home. This is supposed to be the home of Charles Whitman. A gunrunner and weapons dealer to a domestic, backwoods militia responsible countless terror attacks throughout the country.”

Nate’s eyes widen.

“I moved in a few weeks ago. I was told the previous owners moved uptown.”

Brad sighs heavily.

“For what it’s worth, this has never happened. I’m sorry for the disruption.”

Nate stares at Brad for a long time before he burst into uncontrollable laughter.

Brad looks at him like he’s lost his mind or is in shock or both.

“Disruption?” Nate finally breathes out, “It’s not like you delivered a pizza to the wrong house. You broke in and pointed a gun at me.”

Nate laughs still and sighs as he walks casually toward the bar in the living room.

“Drink?” He calls out, still in shock and wondering why he’s invited the assassin to stay longer.

“Bourbon if you have it,” Brad replies, breaking his gun down with each piece fitting perfectly in the lining of his jacket.

Nate pours the drinks blindly watching Brad handle his gun with such practiced ease.

“You pour any more, I’ll have to spend the night.”

Nate furrows his brows in confusion then turns to look at the glasses and realizes he’s about to overpour Brad’s glass with bourbon.

“Shit!” He exclaims, attempts to mediate that problem by pouring it to other glasses with shaking hands.

Brad grabs Nates hands, knowing that the shock was wearing off and Nate needed a drink more than he did.

He places a glass in Nate’s hands and orders, “Drink.”

Nate follows and is guided to sit on his couch.

Brad soon joins him with his own glass and a second for Nate.

They sit in silence, not uncomfortable, while Nate calms down and Brad decides what the hell he’s doing.

“Feeling better?” He asks softly.

Nate laughs again and Brad realizes he still here because something about his not-target is drawing him in.

“You know, for a hired gun, you have a wonderful bedside manner.”

Brad smiles, liking the man next to him more and more as time passes. He wasn’t like anyone Brad had ever met and in his line of work, Brad’s met more people than he’d like.

“People tell me that all time,” Brad replies, deadpan.

“Really?” Nate exclaims, eyebrows rising to his forehead.

“No.”

Nate and Brad both laugh and Nate slaps Brad’s arm good-naturedly to chide him for the joke and Brad grabs it on instinct.

The contact silences the laughter and forces both men to look at one another. Brad loosens his grip on Nate’s hand

Both men are struck with how easy it is to talk to one another and how, despite how they met, comfortable they were around one another.

Brad was cautious and slow to trust by nature and by career and Nate was the same, but something about the two together was simple and felt easy and natural.

Nate smiles, “I’m Nate by the way.”

Brad leans in slowly, staring deeply into Nate’s focused eyes.

“Good to put a name to the face.”

Nate remains silent, wanting so badly to kiss Brad, but not being able to take the dive. For a trained Marine, his self-preservation was clocking in at around zero right now.

“Dinner?” Nate whispers instead, afraid anything louder would shatter the moment. His self-preservation, despite being a trained Marine, was nearing zero.

Brad smiles, lazy and warm.

“Sure.”

Nate smiles back but neither of them moves to the kitchen.

“Is this weird?” Nate asks suddenly.

“It’s unorthodox, but no, not weird.”

Brad scoots closer to Nate, drawing Nate’s gaze into his own.

“Good,” Nate laughs and pulls Brad into a kiss.

Brad returns the kiss quickly, surprised but not disappointed in how his night has turned out.

He’s about to pull Nate in closer when his phone trills in quick succession.

“Shit.”

Brad stands up and answers the phone quickly.

“Yo, yo, yo. Bradley.”

“Ray. You have thirty seconds.”

“Trombley got the addresses wrong. Send you new coordinates. Hopefully, you didn’t like kill someone yet.”

Brad rolls his eyes so harshly they hurt.

“I know. I didn’t. I’ll head there now. Will send a report when it’s done.”

“Sounds pimpin’, Iceman. See you back at HQ.”

Ray disconnects the call and Brad sighs.

“Duty call?” Nate asks from behind him and Brad barely manages to not to jump. The stealth of the other man impressing Brad in a way that makes him want to continue what they started on the couch.

Brad sighs, “Yeah. My team managed to fix their fuck up.”

Nate laughs, “It’s about time.”

Nate doesn’t know why he’s so casual about the fact that Brad just received an order to follow through on an assassination, but he knows orders are orders and supposes there’s a mutual understanding there.

He throws caution to the wind and grabs Brad’s hand.

“The offer for dinner still stands. When you want.” Nate smile and Brad smiles back.

Nate is pulled into a quick kiss before Brad pulls away and is out Nate’s door.

It isn’t until three weeks later when Nate sees Brad again. This time in a soft grey suit fitted perfectly. Standing in front of the screen door. With flowers.

Nae smiles but crosses his arms to indicate that he’s not happy Brad made him wait so long.

Brad looks nervous and a little uncomfortable and Nate slightly basks in it.

“Dinner?” Brad asks cautiously, worried he’s overthought their fateful meeting three weeks ago. The job had extended because his target got wind of the hit out on him. So, Brad spent the better part of a month chasing hit target across the world when he would’ve rather been with Nate.

Nate let Brad stew in his nerves just a moment longer before he smiles and pulls Brad into his arm.

“You’re in charge of the salad, Iceman.”

Brad laughs and kisses Nate.

Easy.

Simple.

Natural.

Just like he remembered and hopes it always will be.

send me one of these with a pairing and you get a fic

[thehelleniclunarwitch]

Oh To Be a Barton (Chapter Thirteen)

Tagged: @justgrits

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

*One Year Later*

“I’m gonna miss this place,” Emily said, tossing down her last duffel bag.

“We can come back,” Bruce told her.

“Yeah, I know. It just felt so normal being here.” Emily told him.

“Well kid, if you don’t want to leave we don’t have to,” Bruce said.

Emily shook her head. “I’d love to stay, but we stayed put for far too long. We need to get off Shield’s radar again.”

Bruce wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her in next to him. He kissed her temple and then the both of them took one last look at the farmhouse that had given them such a great year. Bruce left Emily to admire the house a little longer as he packed up the rest of their bags into the back of Fury’s SUV.

“Come on kid, we have to get you guys to the airport.” Fury said.

Emily looked over her shoulder at the Director. Over the past year, a lot had happened. Emily and Fury had grown closer since the passing of their mutual friend. Fury was really the only one that Emily could talk to about Phil. Fury understood and had missed the same things she did about their dear friend. Emily never thought she would one day care for the overbearing Shield’s director, but she did now and she was grateful to have him in her life.

Piper and Peter also came and spent quite a bit of time at the farm with her and Bruce over the year. Piper was adamant about picking up Emily’s training once they arrived. Peter gave in and helped Piper train with Emily. Emily was nowhere near their level or Clint and Natasha’s, but she was more confident with her skills and quicker too.

She had made a surprising friend of Jason Todd as well. It wasn’t as if they had miraculously become best friends, but they both stayed in touch with each other. Jason opened up slightly with her and Emily even shared a few things with him as well. Emily could say that they both equally had mutual respect for one another and tolerated each other now.

Surprisingly, Clint and Natasha stuck around in the beginning longer than they had planned. Fury let them stay longer than the original week. Emily really enjoyed getting to spend some time with her brother and Natasha. They both had shared their adventures with Emily and listened to Emily when she told them about all of the things that she and Bruce had done over the years.

Clint opened up to Emily about being brainwashed by Loki. Emily had cried the first time Clint had talked to her about it, but she could tell the more he talked about the stronger he was growing from it and the more he was accepting the fact that he wasn’t to blame for what had happened. All of the choices he had made were decided by another person. Emily reassured her brother that he would have stopped if he had the power too, but Loki was just too strong. Clint was letting go of his guilt and was slowly returning back to normal.

Her time with Natasha was the best. Emily had known since the beginning that her brother not only adored Natasha but loved her as well. She figured it out just after two months of following the two of them around that she loved him back. Clint and Natasha kept it completely hidden that they were in a relationship. Emily was the only person they told. They figured that Fury had to have known that they were in a relationship, but he never said anything to them. Emily hoped that the two of them would last because she so desperately wanted Natasha to be her sister one day.

On the drive to the airport, Emily couldn’t help but think about all of the good things that had happened over the year. She got to meet Steve Rogers for a quick second before her brother and Natasha swept her away before Tony figured out about Clint’s secret family. It was quite the honor to meet her role model. Steve promised to visit her on the farm, but it never happened. Emily knew that he was busy catching up on life since he had been frozen for the past seventy years.

Their year on the farm brought Bruce and Emily even closer though neither of them never thought was possible. Emily surprised Bruce by helping him reconnect with his love Betty Ross. Emily had spent a little over two months tracking her down and then talking to her. She didn’t hold anything back when they began emailing each other. Betty had told Emily that she had spent years trying to find Bruce, but he was a hard man to find. So for his birthday, Emily surprised him with a home cooked meal and a special guest.

Emily could remember the exact look on Bruce’s face when Betty walked into the kitchen. First, there was a look of recognition, shock, and then a large grin had filled his face. Betty practically threw herself at him and he easily engulfed her in a large group. Emily couldn’t help but smile happily as the two were finally reunited. When Betty explained to Bruce that it was all because of Emily that she was there Bruce hugged her so tightly that Emily was sure that he broke a rib or two.

Betty had ended up staying a whole month with them catching up and getting to know Emily. Emily had fallen in love with Betty. The girls had bonded so much that when Betty had finally left Emily was completely heartbroken, but Betty promised to stay in touch. That was exactly what she did. Betty frequently called and texted them. She even video conference with them on the weekends and those were Bruce and Emily’s favorite thing to do on the weekend.

At the small and private airport, Emily climbed out of the SUV. Even though the past year had been simply amazing Emily couldn’t wait to go back to it just being her and Bruce. She missed the solitude they could easily find in a different country. She missed helping Bruce run a cheap doctor's office.

“Stay out of trouble, ya hear.” Fury said.

Emily smiled. “Of course.”

“And don’t hesitate to call if you need anything.” Fury added.

“You know I will,” Emily replied.

Fury hugged her. “Take care, kid.”

“Be careful out there,” Emily said.

“I will.” Fury told her.

Fury shook hands with Bruce and then wished the Banner family his best. Bruce and Emily loaded the small plane that would take them to their new home. Banner hated flying. Feared it actually. So, he took his prescribed medicine and it knocked him out immediately leaving Emily to her own devices.

Emily kept herself occupied by connecting with Homer on her iPad. She had been meaning to create some new plans for a new workspace for Bruce's office. The Banner family had plans to reopen a small and affordable doctor's office again, but Emily would like to make the new place a little more homely.

When they finally landed at the Grand Bahama International Airport, Emily and Bruce quickly made their way down the terminal. Emily stuck behind her father as he led them down to the luggage pickup area. Emily placed her earbuds back in and cranked up her music. She sat down on the floor next to Banner as he waited for their luggage to swing around on the belt.

"I'll grab our bags. Be ready to go, Em." Bruce said.

Emily nodded and climbed to her feet. Sticking her iPad into her backpack, she shouldered the heavy sack. She waited patiently as Bruce grabbed their bags from the belt. Together, they carried their bags outside to where the car was waiting for them. Fury had everything set up for them. He swore to them that he was the only one who knew where they would be at.

It didn't take long for the driver to take the Banner family out to their new home. Their new home was grander than what they had expected and what they were used to, but they had decided to stay longer in the Bahamas so Emily could finish up school. Since Bruce was now part of the Avengers he didn't want to run anymore. Emily was working at a junior level. She had plans to graduate school in under two years. Bruce promised her they could stay put long enough for her to finish her studies.

Their new house was perfect, though. There was a second part of the house that Bruce was going to turn into his business. Emily adored that their house sat on the beach. When she discovered that her bedroom faces the ocean and had a balcony she had an aneurysm from excitement. Emily dumped her bags onto her bed before racing out onto the balcony. She took in a deep breath of the fresh ocean air and let out a sigh of content.

"Emily! Come on down here and help me, please." Bruce shouted up the stairs.

Emily left her balcony doors open and then raced down the stairs. She found her dad in the kitchen putting away the groceries that had arrived a little bit before they did. Emily helped put the groceries away. Bruce left her to go check on the second part of the house where he'd be working at most of the time. She left her dad to check out the second part of the house and walked outside.

She stepped off the back porch and her feet hit the warm sand. A small smile tugged at her lips. Digging her feet in a little deeper, Emily began walking toward the ocean. Emily spent a good half an hour walking up and down the shoreline just taking in the beautiful sight. When the sun began to set Emily returned to her home.

The delicious smell of dinner was wafting out of the house. Emily entered through the back door to find her dad finishing up the final touches of dinner. He smiled at her as she closed the door behind her. Without having to be asked, Emily set the table and then poured each of them something to drink. Bruce carried the food to the table and the pair took a seat.

"So what do you think?" Bruce asked.

"It's beautiful here," Emily answered.

"Are you going to be happy here for the next two years?" Bruce asked her.

"Yeah. What about you?" Emily answered.

"As long as I have you there is no doubt in my mind about happiness," Bruce explained.

Emily grinned. "Then here's to our fresh start."

After dinner, Emily helped clean up the dinner mess and then returned upstairs to her bedroom. She spent the rest of the evening unpacking and settling into her new room. She pulled out her Ipad and pulled up Amazon. Her room back at the farm was complete and just the way she wanted it to be. To her, that was her forever home so she made it a shrine to her friends and family. After Coulson's death, to her surprise, Emily inherited quite a bit of Coulson's things. 

Since he didn't have a family of his own and unbeknownst to Emily he left pretty much everything to her.

In her home on the farm, Emily decorated it with the Captain America memorabilia she got from Coulson and her collages she made of her family and friends. Here, Emily decided to go with a Tribal theme. It didn't take her long to fill her shopping cart with everything she'd need to make her room exactly how she wanted.

Exhaustion had hit her mid-shopping and Emily passed out before she could finish processing her order. Bruce found her asleep in the middle of her bed with her iPad stuck to her cheek. A soft chuckle escaped from him as he removed the iPad. He stuck the tablet onto its charger before rolling Emily over and tucking her in under the covers. Bruce kissed her forehead and then flicked the lights off.

Several days later, Emily rode her bike down the side of the small road. She could see that her father was busy so she rushed inside the house to drop off her school bag before racing over to the office to help him out.

"I'm home dad!" Emily shouted as she entered the office.

"Great. Can you start checking in the rest of the patients?" Bruce asked.

"Yeah, of course," Emily said, taking the clipboard from him.

Emily made her way around the office checking in the patients who were waiting patiently to see Bruce. Emily spent the rest of the evening helping Bruce get through the long list of patients. When Bruce finally did flip the closed sign on the door, Emily fell back against the waiting couch and let out a sigh.

"Holy crap, dad." Emily groaned.

"I know. Hopefully, it will start slowing down in a few days." Bruce replied.

"If not, we're never going to have any time to ourselves," Emily told him.

"It will be okay. I was actually thinking about hiring someone to help." Bruce suggested.

"Why would you do that?" Emily asked.

"I don't want to keep you from your studies, plus you're a teen now. I know you're going to make friends and want free time to yourself." Bruce explained.

Emily rolled her eyes. "Dad, I will never have a normal life and I'm too different to make real friends."

Bruce shook his head. "Fine, be an introvert, but I'm still going to take on some help to free you up."

"That's your choice," Emily said.

"I'm just going to order out for dinner since it's so late. Why don't you head in and get your homework complete." Bruce said.

"Alright. Do you think after dinner we can work in the lab tonight?" Emily asked him.

"Definitely. Now go and get your homework done." Bruce said.

"Okay. Call me down once dinner arrives." Emily said.

Bruce waved his daughter off.  Emily left the office and headed into the house. She grabbed her backpack then raced up the stairs to her bedroom. She dumped all of her homework out onto her bed and then organized it quickly. Her new school was challenging because they gave her a lot of work to accomplish, but Emily was smarter than they assumed and she flew her large quantity of homework.

Dinner still hadn't arrived so Emily pulled out her laptop and logged into Skype. She was thrilled to see that Peter was online. Emily quickly clicked on his username and hit the call button. She waited for Peter to answer the call. When his smiling face hit her screen she couldn't help but grin.

"Hey, bestie!" Peter greeted.

"Hiya, Pete." Emily smiled.

"How's the new place?" Peter asked.

"Amazing," Emily answered.

"And the new school?" Peter asked.

"They give a lot of homework, but it's not challenging enough," Emily explained.

"Nothing is challenging enough for you," Peter said with a laugh.

"Shut up," Emily said with a shake of her head.

"Nothing new is going on here, but I think Piper's missing you, though. Even though she won't admit it." Peter said.

"Piper would never admit anything like that." Emily smiled.

"I think she's missing her training buddy," Peter explained.

"That's because I let her beat me up without complaining about it," Emily explained.

Peter tossed his head back and laughed. "That's the truth."

"You know if I could tell you my new location I would so you guys could come and visit, but I think Bruce would freak out," Emily told him.

"Yeah, we understand that he just needs to get away from that part of his life," Peter said.

"Just think two years will fly by fast, though," Emily told him.

"You're all set to graduate at fifteen?" Peter asked.

"Yeah, I'd like to graduate earlier, but our time in Calcutta hurt that chance," Emily explained to him.

"I wanted to graduate early too, but Bruce won't sign off on that. He said the experience will be a good thing."  Peter told her.

"You only have a year left anyways, Petey," Emily said.

Peter smiled and nodded at her. "Listen, I have to go it's bedtime," Peter said.

"Right, forgot about the time difference. Talk to you in a few days?" Emily asked.

"Definitely. Goodnight Emily." Peter said.

"Goodnight, Peter," Emily said before hanging up.

Just as Emily was closing down her laptop Bruce called her down for dinner. Emily shoved her laptop back onto the shelf next to her small desk and then jogged down the stairs. Bruce already had the food sprawled out on the table. He was grabbing them water and silverware for their dinner.

"How's the crew?" Bruce asked.

"I just talked to Peter, but he said nothing was going on," Emily answered.

"Well, that's good. Your homework is done, right?" Bruce asked.

"I finished my homework before I called Peter," Emily told him.

"Stark called me today. I have no idea how he got the number." Bruce told her nonchalantly.

Emily's fork froze mid bite. "You don't think he knows where you are, do you?"

"No, because he would have said something if he did," Bruce answered.

"So what did Stark want?" Emily asked her father.

"He offered me a position at Stark Industries. He wants to work together." Bruce explained.

"Did you accept it?" Emily asked him.

"No," Bruce answered.

"Why not? You two work so well together." Emily wanted to know.

"I just got done helping save the world from aliens. I'm tired and I don't want to be a pawn for Shields. If I'm there in New York with Tony then I'll be on Shield's radar once again." Bruce told her.

"I know how much science makes you happy, dad. If you want to go back to New York we can go." Emily told him.

"Emily, your brother does not want Stark to know about you at all. If I go then where will you go?" Bruce asked.

"Clint has a farm. I can go back to taking classes online." Emily said.

"I'm not letting my thirteen-year-old stay by herself on a farm." Bruce scoffed.

Emily rolled her eyes.

"I could handle myself and you know it," Emily said.

"That's not the point. I promised your brother that I would always be here to take care of you and I will not break that promise." Bruce reminded her.

"I just want you to be happy that's all." Emily sighed.

Bruce reached over and kissed her forehead. "I appreciate that, but right now I'm happy here with you."

"Okay, so what if we go back to New York after I graduate? By then I'll be fifteen. Peter and Piper would graduate and they could stay with me at the farm so I'm not alone." Emily suggested.

"I'll think about it," Bruce replied.

"Deal." Emily beamed.

"Now, there is one more thing that you and I need to discuss." Bruce started.

"Whatever it is, I swear I haven't done any hacking since we moved here," Emily said defensively.

"It's about your brother, Barney," Bruce said.

"What about him?" Emily asked.

"Fury gave me this before we left and asked me to talk to you about it," Bruce told her.

Emily took the folder from her dad.

"What is this?" Emily asked.

"Fury, just like you, have certain files flagged in the Shield's database. Clint and yours are flagged and just before we left he got a notice that somebody got into your files and transferred a copy to their hard drive. When Fury looked into it, he discovered that it was Barney who got into your files." Bruce explained.

"Why would Barney want our files?" Emily asked.

"Fury and I both think that Barney is hunting down Clint to turn him in. Even though Clint works for Shields some of the government officials want to take down Shield agents and Shields itself." Bruce told her.

"Like that'll ever happen." Emily scoffed.

"It won't but apparently when Fury checked into Barney's background he found out that Barney has made it his personal vendetta to take down Shield, your brother, and get you back," Bruce told her carefully.

"Well he can come after me all he wants, but hell will have to have frozen over before I go back with him," Emily growled.

"Fury has made it absolutely impossible for anyone to find you, Emily," Bruce reassured her.

Emily opened the file, read a few things, and then quickly shut it.

"Can  I keep this for a while?" Emily asked him.

"Of course you can," Bruce said.

Emily didn't even bother to help Bruce pick up their mess from dinner. She was too enthralled in the file and headed up to her bedroom. Emily took a quick shower and then changed into her pajamas. Wearing her favorite plaid bottoms and a white tank top, Emily climbed onto her bed and opened the file.

"Homer, play Playlist 4," Emily said.

"Right away, Emily," Homer replied.

When the classical music began to play Emily started to pull apart the file. She knew pretty much  everything that was in hers and Clint's file.  She had read both of their files in depth, but there were some new things that had been added by Barney. Emily was unsure how Barney even got some of the information he did. She would have to talk to Fury about that.

With her iPad in hand, Emily took pictures of the file for reference. She marked down some of her own notes. Emily easily hacked into the FBI's database and pulled up her brother's file. She quickly downloaded everything on her older brother onto her iPad. Bruce had knocked on the door to remind her she still had one more school day left and to turn in for the night.

Emily cleaned up her mess and tucked it into the nightstand next to her bed. She would have to do her own research this weekend. Whatever Barney had planned, Emily was going to make sure that she did everything possible to keep Barney off Clint's trail. Barney walked away from this family all on his own. Emily refused to let him ruin her happiness all of these years later.

It wasn't going to happen, especially since Emily had Fury on her side. Barney was going to regret his decision of going after Clint. Emily was ready to take down her own blood to keep Clint and the rest of her family safe from Barney. She was prepared to do whatever it was going to take to make them safe once again.

[iwillgiveyoumyhappiness]

이재현, Lee Jaehyun

shizziebo asked:

My girl, kinda have a shitty vague idea to pitch to you but what if the first time you met either yunho, san, min, leedo or hyunjae by accidentally bumping harshly into you and when they go to apologise, they are stunned for a sec cause you look like their past rival/enemy and their instant reaction is to lowkey insult you but you dish it right back and cause of this you end up forming a friendship filled with banter/insults and maybe it’s just turns into both of your ways to mask you feelings

Group: The Boyz (더보이즈)

Member: Hyunjae

(A/N) I love my boy, but gosh... hIS STAGE NAME VERSUS REAL NAME WILL ALWAYS BE FREAKIN’ ANNOYING FOR ME. Like- you just switched the syllables! My brain has to process that every time I look at you!!

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Jaehyun searched around somewhat frantically for his group, a concerned furrow to his brows. He knew there were twelve of them, but still. It was a little frustrating and disheartening to be left behind at the airport.

He started texting Sangyeon, not really paying attention to where he was going. He kept trying to keep his head low and not draw attention. Keeping his head low was one thing, but keeping his eyes low was another, and it lead to a collision. 

A collision with some poor woman that was just trying to pick up her luggage and get on her plane. She seemed to be in as much of a rush as he was. 

“Oh my gosh!” he gasped, dropping his phone. Luckily, his screen didn’t crack, but that was the least of his concerns. He was more worried about the young woman he just bulldozed into the floor. 

She looked up at him from her spot on the ground, a little flustered. She fixed her hair and cleared her throat. “Yes, I’m fine,” she said. “I’m really sorry about—” She stopped once she met his eyes, a gear of recollection clicking in her brain. “No way,” she scoffed. “No freakin’ way.” 

His blood ran cold. Was she a fan? It’s not that he didn’t love and respect every single fan that he had, but he was in a big rush, and he was worried he might be snappy. 

“You’re Jaehyun,” the girl said, standing up and staring at him. “Lee Jaehyun? It’s me.” She pointed to herself. “From highschool.”

After a moment of confusion, it finally dawned on him. 

He knew this woman. He didn’t have much recollection of the dirty details of the whole affair, but he just remembered that there was a lot of disagreements, butting-heads, and pranking each other while the teachers weren’t looking. 

Maybe one or two food fights in the lunch hall as well. He remembered briefly dating her, too... That was a mistake better left in the past.

In summary: they were old enemies. 

His expression immediately turned sour. “Oh,” he started flatly. “It’s you.” 

She nodded. “Yes, it seems so,” she said. She crossed her arms and tapped her fingers in an almost intimidating way. She glanced down at his phone. “That yours?”

He clicked his tongue. “Yeah.” He leaned down, going to grab it, but she got to it first. He sighed heavily. She used to do that in school, too.  She was always a bit of a bully. Mostly to him, though. He held out his hand. “Give it back, I’m in rush.”

She ignored him, pressing the home button. She glanced at his home-screen and chuckled. “Still no girlfriend, huh?” she asked. 

“Nope,” he said curtly. He held out his hand. “Now give it.” 

She smirked a little. “You’ve gotten braver,” she said, handing it back to him. 

He returned the look, an attractive arch to his brows. “Guess I have nothing holding me back now.” 

She rolled her eyes. “Oh, don’t be such a pop song.” She checked her watch. “You said you were a rush, right?” 

His eyes widened with realization. “Oh my gosh,” he groaned, rubbing his temples. “I probably missed my flight.” 

She quirked a brow. “Which flight?” she asked. At that point, he was so done with life, he just handed his boarding pass over. She scanned the ticket before snorting. “I guess fame hasn’t made you any smarter,” she said. “We’re on the same flight, and you’re on the wrong side of the terminal, dummy.” 

Part of him was grateful, but the other part saw the perfect opportunity to embarrass her. “You haven’t gotten much smarter either,” he said. He shoved his hands in his pockets. “If we’re on the same flight, you’re on the wrong side too, genius.” 

She stared at him with wide eyes before clearing her throat. “Well, that’s because...” He could tell she was trying to come up with a viable excuse. “Luggage,” she said, gesturing weakly. 

Even she didn’t believe too much in her words.

“Okay, so maybe I got a little turned around,” she admitted, watching his lips turn up in a cat-like way, “but that’s nothing to smirk about!” 

His smirk grew bigger. “Sure,” he said, shrugging. Clearly, he wasn’t buying it. “Are we going or not?” he asked, gesturing back to the other end of the terminal. 

She gave him a look. “Why would I go with you?” she scoffed. 

“Because we’re both late,” he said, “we’re about to miss our planes, and it’s not like we’re gonna sit next to each other.”

She nodded slowly. “I guess that makes sense—”

“You probably can’t afford first class,” he said, looking her up and down. 

She scowled at him. “Screw you, Lee Jaehyun.” 

Despite that entire interaction, seemingly fraught with disdain for each other, the two had exchanged numbers that day. 

They did it under the guise of the saying, “If there’s anything wrong with your phone, I’ll pay for it. I guess”, and stuff like, “I knocked over your suitcase, so if there’s any crap in there that I broke, I’ll replace it. I guess”, but they both knew that there was a little something more to it. 

Neither of them acknowledged it, but there was something there. Something big waiting to jump out at them that they just couldn’t place. Maybe they were trying not to place it. Maybe it was scary. 

You see, they felt very safe in their little box of mutually disliking each other. 

They revisited past memories, to an extent, but it was always selective. It was as if their brains were only reminding them of the bad times, and none of the good. 

Was there ever even any good there, or were they just imagining it? 

They didn’t know. They didn’t care. 

They quite liked their little boxes of hatefulness. It was safe and familiar, and there was no way to get hurt. Too badly, at least. 

Haknyeon stared at Jaehyun as he gathered his things. 

“Where are you going?” he asked, looking up from his phone. 

Jaehyun huffed a sigh. “I’m going out to meet her,” he said. 

It was time for the younger member to sigh. “You’ve gotta be kidding me,” he said, tossing his phone on the bed. “You guys still keep in touch with each other? You looked like you were ready to kill each other when we got off the plane all those months ago.” 

“What can I say?” Jaehyun said, grabbing his wallet. “She won’t leave me alone.” 

He scoffed. “As if.”

“It’s true!” he defended himself. 

Haknyeon rolled his eyes. “Sure, that’s why I see you guys texting late at night,” he said. 

Jaehyun grabbed out his phone, pulling up his text conversations. “It’s nothing pretty and romantic, I assure you.” He handed the younger member the device. 

His jaw dropped. “These are horrible!” He looked up at him with wide eyes. “You’re so mean to each other.” He shoved the phone back into Jaehyun’s hands, a calculating yet perplexed look in his eyes. “Yet you haven’t deleted them...” 

Jaehyun shrugged. “Haven’t gotten around to it.” Haknyeon gave him a look. “Listen, you know she’s not my type! I want someone I can click with, and all we do it butt-heads. She’s not someone I’m going for romantically.” 

His roommate crossed his arms. “But you did in the past,” he said. “You used to date.” 

Jaehyun’s flippant exterior faltered a little bit. “That’s... true,” he admitted. He shook his head, clearing his thoughts. “But that’s all in the past, you know that much.” 

“That may be, but it doesn’t erase the fact that you guys have dealt with each other for five months when all you’re doing is arguing,” he said, plopping down on the bed. “It’s like you’re using hating each other as an excuse to see each other.” 

He sighed. “It’s really not like that...” He wasn’t all that sure about the conviction in his tone, but it would have to do for now. He plopped down next to him with a huff. “Can I be honest with you?” 

“I have feeling that you’re going to be, whether I like it or not,” Haknyeon said. He gave him a playful nudge and a brotherly smile. “But still, go ahead.” 

Jaehyun sighed. “I don’t know what we’re doing,” he admitted with a little bit of hesitancy. His started messing with his fingers unwittingly. “It’s like... I hate her, I really do, but I...”

“Can’t stay away?” Haknyeon finished for him.

He stared down at the floor, his thoughts heavy. “Yeah,” he sighed deeply, his shoulders sinking a little. “That’s about right.” He ran a stressed hand through his hair, mussing it up. “I’m just really confused and angry right now. It’s like... We’re both different people from highschool, right?” Haknyeon nodded. 

“We’re both basically good people, right?” He nodded again. “I mean, she has good rapport with the waiters, she never says a mean word about anyone—except me, of course—she has her mom saved in her phone with three heart emojis, her lockscreen is her freakin’ adorable dog—she’s a decent human being!”

Thyounger member nodded. “You’re right,” he agreed.

“Then why do we just fall back into old habits?” Jaehyun flopped back on the bed, covering his eyes with his forearms. “It’s like we honestly bring out the worst in each other,” he said. 

Haknyeon wracked his brain, trying to think. “Well... Why did you two originally start dating back then?” Jaehyun gave him a look, peeking though a gap in his cave of forearms. “I know it was for a short time, but it still happened. You can’t erase it.” 

Jaehyun sighed. “Why are you acting like the older brother here?” he muttered. He cleared his throat, speaking louder now. “I guess it was because... We both intrigued each other?” 

“Explain,” the younger said, poking him with his toes. 

He smacked the foot away, giving him a warning look. “In school, she was always like the top-dog. People respected her, ‘cause she just had this aura about her. As for me, I was just the handsome guy that girls had crushes on.”

“Wait, lemme predict this,” Haknyeon said, holding up a hand. “She was the only girl that didn’t fall at your feet and you were the only guy that didn’t bow to her will.” Jaehyun’s jaw dropped. “Oh, crap!” he laughed. “I was actually right?” 

Jaehyun stared at him. “How did you even—?”

“You guys are total melodrama cliche!” he cackled. He couldn’t stop bending over in a messy heap, his stomach hurting from the almost painful laughter. 

He sat up, crossing his arms. “I’m starting to think about taking back what I said about you seeming like an older brother,” he threatened. 

“Go for it,” Haknyeon said, sitting up straight and wiping a tear from the corner of his eye. “That doesn’t change the fact that I’m right.” He gave him a pat on the shoulder. “I think you two will be okay,” he said. “If you keep following cliches, you’ll end up with each other in the end.” 

The thought sent a shiver down Jaehyun’s spine. “I don’t know about that,” he said. “Maybe we’ll get along, though.”

Jaehyun stood in front of the tea house that they’d agreed to meet at.

He checked his phone. Thirty minutes late.

He scoffed to himself. “That’s not even fashionably late,” he muttered. He was about to call her, but he was interrupted by a familiar voice. At least, he thought it was familiar. 

It sounded strangely sweet compared to the scolding, disapproving tone he was used to.

“You lost your mama?” he heard the familiar voice say. 

He looked to his right, confusion on his face. There—crouched in front of a child no older than five—was a young woman. The woman that he claimed to hate so much. 

His heart skipped a beat. 

How could he say he hated that woman that was holding that little boys hands, pulling him into the tightest hug, whispering comforting words and wiping his tears? 

What was there to hate about that? She looked so... Dare he say—gentle? 

“What’s your name?” she asked the boy. 

He sniffled at her. “Eu-nu,” the boy whimpered. 

She wiped away his tears, giving him a smile. “Eu-nu?” she echoed. “I like it; it sounds handsome.” The boy smiled a little. “Do you know which way your mommy went?” she asked. 

He shook his head. “I don’t know.” He started crying again. 

She hugged him close, shushing him in a comforting way. 

All Jaehyun could do was stare on. There was something different about her in this setting... Something brighter and shining, like the city lights glittering at night or the stars flickering to life in the countryside. 

It made him angry that he liked what he saw. 

She pulled away from Eu-nu once he’d calmed down. “Hey,” she started, “see that woman over there?” She pointed, guiding his gaze. “She looks worried. Is that your mom?”  

His eyes lit up. “Mom!” 

That was the answer. 

When the boy and his mother disappeared from sight, waving to her and thanking her all the way, her smile fell. 

He decided in that moment: he’d had enough.

He’d throw away his pride, gain his conviction and just tell her straight up how he felt. He took a deep breath. “I don’t wanna hate you anymore!” he said, accidentally yelling.

She jumped, a small yelp passing her lips. “Why’re you screaming at me?!” she shouted back. People were staring at them, seeing as they were in the middle of a crowded sidewalk, but all they spared them was a question look; nothing more. 

“I don’t know!” he said honestly. “I don’t know—I just am! Let’s stop hating each other, okay?!”

She put a finger to her lips, shushing him. “Can you quiet down? We’re outside!” she snapped. “It’s not that easy,” she said, normal volume returning. “Something like that doesn’t happen overnight.”

He took a deep breath. “Then it won’t,” he said simply. “We’ll keep meeting up, like we have been doing, and each time we do, we’ll hate each other a little less than the time before.” 

She seemed taken aback by his statement. “What are you—?”

“It’ll take a lot of effort, you ass, but I’m gonna put in the work,” he said. He raised a brow. “Are you really gonna be beaten by me?”

After what felt like a moment of frozen time, she crossed her arms.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” she said, a competitive glint in her gaze. 

He stared into her eyes, ensnaring her more greatly than she’d ever admit. “Then you better try damn hard to do better than me,” he said, “because by the end of this, I plan to not hate you so much, I might even end up loving you!” 

Well... She was never one to turn down a challenge. 

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This was really fun to write! Jaehyun’s a real sweetheart, so it was a little difficult to imagine him being a complete butt to someone, but I hope I pulled it off well enough. 

I actually worried that it might’ve been a little rushed, such as the backstory and whatnot, but I’m hoping it evened out and turned out better than I’m imagining.

I hope you enjoyed it, @shizziebo ! Stop by whenever!

[gotbts7fics]

Positive | ONE |

One | February 2017 | Two |

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck” You mumbled as you stared at the two little lines on the stick. The test was just confirmation on what you suspected for the last few weeks. The nausea, sensitive boobs, and the lack of period was the final straw that forced you to pee on the stick, now sitting in your hand. This was deja vu from 8 years ago when you found out you were pregnant at eighteen. Grabbing the phone, you quickly made a call to your best friend who was sure to not appreciate the time difference right now, but frankly, you didn’t care. This was an emergency!

“Pick up, pick up, oh my fucking good pick up the fucking phone!!” yelling into the mouth piece willing the call to be answered.

“Jesus fucking christ” A sleepy voice said on the other end. “You realize its two in the morning here right? Did you forget Ontario is fourteen hours behind you?”

“Bree, I’m pregnant” You were met by silence from the other end of the phone.

“I’m sorry what?”

“I’m pregnant….”

”HOLY FUCKING SHIT!!! How did this happen?”

“Really? You need to know how this happened? I swallowed a watermelon seed….. HOW THE FUCK DO YOU THINK THIS HAPPENED?” screeching as you buried your head in your hands.

The line went silent for another minute.

“What are you going to do?” Bree asked.

“I honestly don’t know.”

It had been forty eight hours since your phone call home. Forty eight hours since your world went into complete and utter chaos. Moving to South Korean just over 3 years ago at the age of 24, with a then 5year old, left everyone thinking you were crazy. Fresh out of university and after a painful breakup, moving not across the country but over an ocean, with a little human to heal your broken heart. You had quickly settled into your new home, and job, Jaidyn doing the same with school. She adapted very well and made friends within the first day. Everything had fallen into place, which is why when you met a young man who flashed you a devilish smile after literally running smack dab into his chest at a coffee shop, you didn’t hesitate to say yes to a coffee date. His name was Jaebum, he spoke broken English, liked cats and you two shared the same birthday. The only difference was he was four years younger than you, which he promised was not an issue, language barrier and all, considering your Korean really was just memorized lines from dramas. Reeling from the heart ache you had been inflicted with, you figured having a bit of fun was just what you deserved. A coffee date turned to a dinner date, dinner date turned into 5 dinner dates, which turned into lazy nights at home hanging out with the two of you and your daughter. He was wonderful, charming and handsome, a complete package. Then you learned he wasn’t as simple as you first thought. He finally told you he was in the entertainment business and that left him busy a lot of the time as his career took off. Still he always made you feel loved and always followed through with promises he made. He made his career first priority, yet he never made you feel second to it, even as he grew in popularity. You loved him so much, you would do anything for him and you strove to make your relationship work. As the years passed, you had learned to accept the challenges of dating in secret with him. Everything was just easy with him, you understood how busy he was and he likewise understood cancelled dates last minute because you had a child. The relationship you two shared was incredibly simple and easy, making it work the best you could. Now you weren’t so sure. Jaebum was touring with his music group in Japan and here you were staring at a pregnancy test. You were going over every night of passion you had with him, tangled in the sheets with sweaty bodies pressed together, in your head. You were on birth control, you used condoms, you did everything to protect yourself and not ruin his career with an accidental pregnancy. Yet here you are, just celebrated your 27th birthday, a 7 year old and 23 year old mega star idol boyfriend whose career was about to be over because of you. You felt more lost than when you found out you were pregnant at 18 with your high school sweetheart who decided cheating was okay, broke your heart and left. More devastated than when your relationship with your last boyfriend ended because after two years he decided he didn’t want the responsibility that came with your child anymore. You honestly didn’t know what to do. Did you simply just terminate the pregnancy, did you tell him and still terminate, was there even a small chance you could keep the pregnancy. No, no there wasn’t. This would ruin his career. A career he shared with six other hard working men who didn’t deserve this scandal. You wanted to cry, you really wanted to curl up into a ball and cry, but your daughter was due home any minute and being it Friday night, it was mommy daughter date night. There was no time to cry.

Seventy two hours after that phone call found you on your couch, sobbing into your friends arms. For some reason she thought the most logical thing for her to do was jump on a plane, travel thirteen plus hours and bust through your door. Jaidyn conveniently was at a sleep over with her friend Soohyuk. So you had the next 16 hours to ball your eyes out until she came home. It was during a moment of silent tears, with the TV on some variety show in the background, cold pizza in front of you, that you decided,

“I’m not going to tell him” You confessed, tears streaming down your face while you desperately tried to console your broken heart.

“You have to tell him” Bree insisted, a concerned look on her face.

“No, I don't” you deadpanned.

“What are you going to do? Not tell him, and hope he doesn’t notice how fat you’re getting? Cause I saw pictures of you with Jaidyn, you’re going to look like you swallowed a beach ball” Bree said rolling her eyes, shoving a slice of pizza into her mouth.

“I’m not telling him, I am going to break up with him” It was a strong statement. One you said with such conviction that Bree looked at you quizzically.

“Y/N, even if you break up with him, he’s going to find out. You have mutual friends. You can’t hide a pregnancy. What do you plan to do? Just disappear, run home to Canada?” It was comical, because in that moment Bree snapped her head towards you, realization etched on her face, as the light bulb went off.

“No y/n…. NO! You can’t do that to him! Hell, you can’t even do that to yourself” You looked at her through wet, red eyes.

“I honestly don’t know what’s right and what’s wrong in this situation. I love him, Bree. I love him so fucking much it hurts. I wasn’t supposed to fall in love with him. I wasn’t supposed to fall in love again after Matt, but I did. And it hurts, it hurts so much. I don’t want to wreck his career. I can’t, no I won’t do that to him. But this baby, this is my baby. I can’t not have my baby. It was such an easy decision to keep Jai. I didn’t even think twice. And here I am, actually thinking twice. I’m a terrible mother. I don’t deserve my babies.” You felt terrible, so you started sobbing again, because quite frankly it was all you were currently good at.

“Babe, don’t think like that” Bree said as she put her pizza down and wrapped her arms around you.

“Whatever you want to do, I support you. You’re a fantastic mother. Look at how happy my niece is. You’ve sacrificed so much for her. You’ve gone to college and university. You’ve worked and dealt with her dick head of a biological father. You refused to give up when you and Matt didn’t work out. Honey, you’re the best damn mother and friend I know. You love with your whole heart and deserve the world. I know you love Jaebum more than you can explain. I think he will understand. It’s been three years with him. If after three years he shuts you down, this baby down, then he doesn’t deserve you one bit.” She breathed her words into your hair. She wanted you to calm down and think rationally while you figured this out.

“That’s the problem Bree, I think he will throw his career away for this baby. I can’t let him do that. He loves Jaidyn so much already. He does everything with her. He refers to her as his own. Imagine if he actually has a baby. He’s worked to hard. It will ruin him. I can’t ruin him.” You sobbed. The whole in your heart growing with each word you said. The feeling of the most beautiful relationship in your life ending because of the love you have. It was ironic, ending a relationship because you loved someone.

“Okay, look. Let’s get some sleep. We can talk about this tomorrow, or next tuesday. I am staying here for a few weeks. We can figure this out. I love you eh.” She said pulling you up to your feet and leading you to bed.

“Thanks, I love you too” You replied, tears finally stopping for the night. It was like you were in university all over again. Having her stay with you because you were heart broken and couldn’t stand to be alone. Only this time it hurt so much more.

“How did you even manage it?” Bree asks as she eats cereal the next morning.

“Like, he’s so famous. How do fans not know you’re dating… let alone been dating for three years. I don’t understand” You looked at her with your spoon hanging out of your mouth.

“Honestly, I don’t know. Maybe it’s because I’m foreign. The fans think I am just a foreign friend with a kid. It’s not like we make out in public. And Jai is always around. Not to mention other members are with us in public. I probably don’t seem like someone he would be with.” you said going in for another bite. Now that you thought of it, it was true. No one really questioned your relationship with Jaebum. Which, considering how popular GOT7 had gotten, someone should have taken notice. You were consumed by your thoughts when, fuck, you thought. Rushing out of your chair and running to the toilet. Whatever cereal you had consumed was now staring you back in the face from the inside of the porcelain thrown. This was getting ridiculous.

“I hate pregnancy” You said out loud

“No you don’t, you always said you missed it. You just hate the gross parts of it. Puking, constipation, weird hair growing in weird places” Bree appeared, leaning against the door frame of the bathroom, cereal bowl in hand.

“I just threw up, and you’re eating breakfast still?” You asked sitting cross legged and leaning against the wall.

“You’re joking right, like you’re aware I am a cop. This….” she gestured towards you and the toilet with her spoon “This is child’s play bitch.” You couldn’t help but laugh. She was right, she had seen and smelled worse, this was nothing to her.

Later that afternoon, as you waited for your daughter to come home, you finally checked your phone after god knows how long. Bree arriving had kept you so busy you didn’t even touch it, instead balling your eyes out to your best friend who flew half way around the world for you.

[4:34pm] Jaebum <3: Hey babe, I miss you. I hope my girls are doing well. 5 more days until I can hug you!!!! [6:45pm] Jaebum <3: Rude, not even a msg back, fine… I’m going to buy Jai a phone. At least she will tell me how much she misses me. [11:42pm] Jaebum <3: Love you baby, have a good night.

It didn’t matter if you didn’t reply, he knew you loved him. You had always sucked at texting anyways, so your silence didn’t even give him an inkling that something was wrong.

[9:02am] You: I love you Jaebum, forever and always, please remember that. I miss you. 

It physically hurt you to send him that message. You loved him so much, but you knew your time was slowly running out.

“So, when does Jaebum get back to Seoul” Bree asked while you were cooking dinner on the Monday night after she had arrived. She was sitting at the kitchen table with Jaidyn, helping her with her homework.

“Wednesday? Yeah, I think on Wednesday.” You replied as you stirred the pasta sauce.

“JB Appa comes home tomorrow maman, he told me he comes home on Tuesday.” Jaidyn piped up, looking from her homework towards the two older women.

“You forgot didn’t you… well he comes home tomorrow!! That means Aunty Bree can finally meet him, and BAMBAM. You’ll love BAMBAM Aunty Bree. He is SOOOOOO funny” She said, going back to her math homework.

“Why is this math so hard” Bree mumbled as she looked at the problem the second grader was doing.

“Just be thankful she goes to the french international school, and not the Korean school I work at” You laughed, math was the enemy for both of you. Math in french was still manageable, math in Korean not so much.

You and Bree looked at each other and laughed, barely hearing the knock at the door, until it was done more forcefully. Abandoning the sauce you made your way to open the door. The next second found you wrapped in the arms of a handsome man, lips attached to yours, as he carried you back into the apartment and shutting the door with a swift kick of his foot.

“Hi” He said finally detaching his lips, looking at you.

“Um, wow.. Hi” You said looking up into his eyes. You loved his eyes. They were your favourite part of his appearance. The two little moles above his left eye always captivated you. Would this baby have his eyes. Shit, you thought slightly wincing as your stomach did a summer sault.

“Surprise, I missed you. You’ve been so busy, I haven’t heard much from you these past few weeks.” Jaebum said hugging you once more.

“I’m making pasta, are you hungry?” you asked, your mind going this way and that. You were not ready to face him. You had to keep calm, but the nausea was bubbling to spill over and force you to empty the nonexistent contents of your stomach.

“JB Appa!!!!! You’re home early!!!!!!!!” Jaidyn screeched, running full force towards the arms of the man in front of you.

“Oh how I’ve missed you! Were you good for your maman while I was gone?” He murmured into her hair as he hugged her tightly.

“Always” she smiled, hugging him back just as tightly.

“good…. oh hello” Jaebum looked up and saw Bree standing in the door frame of the kitchen. He sent you a look as if asking who this was. None of your friends had ever visited you in Korea, and he had met all of your Korean friends. His poor mind was trying to figure out who this was.

“Ahhhh… this is Bree.. My friend from university. She came for a surprise visit. She showed up on Friday.” Explaining why this seemingly random person was in your apartment.

“Hello, it’s nice to meet you. Y/N has been bragging about you for a while now.” She said with a smile, holding out her hand. He shook it and gave her a polite nod.

“Okay lets have dinner” You looked at Bree, Jaebum put one hand on the small of your back and led you to the kitchen. Your seven year old still in his other arm, sitting on his hip. You shook your head. You always said she was too old to be picked up anymore, he always argued that he would continue to pick her up until she was taller than him. He’d been like that from the beginning, he loved to carry her when she was young. When he was away for more than a week he always seemed to carry her more upon returning. He had explained it was because he felt guilty for leaving her. He wanted her to know how much he loved her, from the moment you told him about her he stepped into this loving father role, it had melted your heart to see her loved so unconditionally.

Once everyone was back in the kitchen, Jaidyn cleared her homework and set the table. While everyone talked, small chit chat about school, work, Canada and his travels. You couldn’t help how proud you felt with how far his English had come. Although your Korean was much stronger than his English, he still was able to communicate with your friend openly. While you tried to pay attention, you were ultimately consumed by thoughts of this pregnancy. This secret pregnancy that was threatening to be exposed because the need to vomit up garlic bread was looming over you.

“Hey, are you okay?” Jaebum asked, noticing your less than normal commentary.

“Eh?… oh yeah. I’m okay. Sorry love, I just don’t feel very well.”

“Do you want to go to the doctor? Do you need me to get you some medicine?”He rose from his chair and heading towards the medicine cupboard.

“No, I’ll be okay. I just need to sleep. Are you staying tonight?” You asked, a little more hopeful that he wouldn’t.

“No, I’ll let you have time with Bree. Let me do the dishes and put Jaidyn to bed. Then I will tuck you in too. You girls can have a nice relaxing night.” He said with a smile. You controlled your expression, all you wanted to do was cry and fling yourself into his arms. Instead you smiled as you rose from your chair, kissing his cheek and made your way to the bathroom. You needed to splash cool water on your face.

A few hours later as you lay beside Bree, the emotions of the situation hit you again. You tried to silently cry yourself to sleep.

“Lets go to the doctor this week, k… We need to figure out how far you are.” Bree said with a sleepy voice. She didn’t open her eyes, but she threw her arm over you.

“Okay” You sniffled. You were running out of time and were feeling suffocated.

The ultrasound scan held in your hands confirmed you were roughly eight weeks pregnant, which meant you were going to have an October baby.

“My nephew’s birthday is in October, and my moms. Guess October is going to be busy” You sighed looking at Bree. She had kept her word and brought you to the doctors. She sat through the whole appointment, listening as intently as she could considering she didn’t understand more than two words in Korean.

“From my understanding, everything is okay, right?” She had asked as you made your way home.

“Yup, it’s funny. I am exactly where I was when I found out about Jai. You think I would know sooner, this being the second time around” Your heart was feeling heavy and you really wanted to eat your feelings.

“I mean, you’re busy and shit. I think this is normal” Bree said, taking a sip of the Starbucks in her hand. “So, I don’t want to be that friend, but like… have you thought about what you’re going to do?” She asked.

“I’m going to go home” You said while looking off in the distance.

“Okay, if you feel that is best, I will support you” Bree sighed heavily, neither of you had the right answer but this didn’t feel like it was the correct way to deal with it. “Just let me know when you’re going to come home. I’ll take time off and visit.”

“It’s going to suck, I am going to be so heartbroken. I can’t wreck him though. I can’t ruin his life. I love him so much” You brought your eyes to the ground, wrapping your arms around you, tears threatening to spill over again.

“I know babe, I know” Bree said, stepping forward and hugging you tightly.

[codylabs]

Chapter 10: The Madman’s Tale

Links: P 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9

Dipper, Wendy, and McGucket poked their way through the depths of the alien spacecraft, and finally arrived at sector 43: the portion of the cargo area that they theorized once contained robotic life forms. They pried the door open with great difficulty, and stood staring in.

It wasn’t at all what they expected.

“Well… That’s… Somthing.” Dipper said.

“Yeah… Wait, no it’s not.” Wendy disagreed. “It’s not something! It’s literally nothing.”

“Yep. Nothin’.” McGucket agreed.

Because when they pried the door open, there was no sector 43; there was only a solid wall of dirt.

“So how would this even happen?” Dipper pondered out loud.

“Wull, this here honkytonk is underground…” McGucket reminded him. “Has been fer thousands a years… Just a matter a’ sludge and hogwash erodin’ down off the hills, and gravity has its merry way from there…”

“But… The hull…” Dipper said. “The hull would be in the way… I guess the roof must have collapsed?”

“Well.” Wendy shrugged. “If this did have escaped metal life, that would mean there’s were a bunch of critters running around with saws in there…”

“Yeah, but… But would they really chop up the entire roof??”

“Okay, I don’t know…”

The only other interesting thing about sector 43 were the words carved above the door. Although Dipper had seen words written or painted around the ship a few times, these ones were actually etched into the metal. As if their writers had a saw or grinder of some kind… Which was too big of a coincidence to be a coincidence. He pointed the tablet at them, took a picture, and had it translate. He had hoped for something profound, but was disappointed.

“ƉN::ᶌ and Ɖg@}Nᶌ were here.” He read.

“Oh HO!” Wendy scoffed, as she immediately removed and unzipped her backpack. “Is that how you want to play it, mysterious ancient aliens? Fine then! FOUR can play at THAT game!” She removed a neon green can of spray paint from her pack, shook it up, and wrote Dipper and Wendy were here next to the carvings.

McGucket found this disrespectful and unprofessional, although Dipper thought it was a riot.

“So who were those two, anyway?” Dipper asked outloud, after they’d finished laughing. “ƉN::ᶌ and Ɖg@}Nᶌ...?” He tried to pronounce the symbols, but it was much too hard.

“Just make up some normal names for them.” Wendy suggested. “Like… Like Betty and Barney, or something. I don’t know, Mabel could probably do better…”

“Betty and Barney it is, then.” Dipper nodded. “Yeah… Betty and Barney were here… So who were they? Were they more specimens? Or part of the crew? Or passengers…?”

“I don’t know.” Wendy shrugged. “Could have been anyone, really… But back to the problem at hand: Sector 43 is missing a ceiling, and filled with dirt. Short of borrowing my cousin’s excavator for about a month, how do we find out what was in there?”

Dipper considered this. “Well… Huh… I guess that if there’s giant holes in the roof, then chances are there’s giant holes in the walls too, right? So if there was metal life in 43, we should probably check in sectors 42 on the left, and 44 on the right. That’s where they would have breached through.”

“Right tootin’!” McGucket slapped his knee. “Wull then, I’ll give 42 a lookie, and you kids scrabdoodle off to 44!”

“Got it.” Dipper nodded.

“Don’t let the grammar hit you on the way out!” Wendy jested, as they turned to head back the way they’d come. McGucket went off the other direction, hamboning a playful tune on his thigh.

Dipper and Wendy arrived in cargo area 44, and it was pretty much how they expected.

Beyond the sliding door, they found a massive room, the size of a warehouse, and high enough that their headlamp beams didn’t reach the ceiling. The entire space was filled with gigantic hexagonal crates suspended on large, honeycombed racks, with barely room enough to walk between them.

Sector 44 was a mess, same as everywhere else. But this mess considerably messier. Here, not only the small things were broken, but also the computers, the equipment, the floor, the walls, the lights… Everything was cut all to pieces. Wires and cords hung from the ceiling in tattered tangles. The terminals on the walls were totally gutted. The walls had cavities. The cargo containers were cut open, and much of their freight was spilled about. Everywhere there were scratches and saw marks.

And as for the wall this sector would have shared with 43… The wall had been torn half away, and mountains of dirt and deposit had spilled through the missing half, partially filling 44 and destroying many of the cargo racks. Great tree roots, having groped their way down from the distant surface, peaked out of the mess here and there.

“Yep.” Wendy nodded. “This is about what I expected.”

They started to walk into the room to explore it, but suddenly something sharp caught Dipper in the leg, and he yelped with pain.

He looked down.

A large panel of the floor had been torn up, revealing some electrical lines. And out of those electrical lines, there grew a tangle of metal weeds. They were long dead, and their solar panels had rotted away, but they were still sharp, and they still stood as evidence of the type of chaos which once inhabited this room.

“Ah. Well, there we go.” Dipper nodded. “There’s metal plants at least…”

“Ooh! Dead killer robots! What a welcome change of pace!” Dipper turned to see Wendy examining a broken security drone. Strangely, this drone appeared perfectly intact on the outside. There wasn’t a single scratch or crack in its shell, although the glass appeared fogged up on the inside. “I wonder what did this guy in?” Wendy wondered out loud.

“I don’t know… Why’s it all fogged up?”

Dipper helped Wendy pry open the drone’s hatch, and they saw what had happened.

The drone had been eaten from the inside out. Although the drone’s outer glass shell was too hard for saws to cut, its mechanical innards were all exposed on the inside. And all these parts (power source, weapons systems, arms, etc.) had all been chopped up or eaten entirely.

As for the trapped robot that had done the damage… It was still there. It was long dead, and mostly decayed, but it was still recognizable. It looked almost identical to Juan and his mom, but about the size of a wolf, and with more pronounced saws. Obviously still the same species, just a different breed.

“Wow.” Wendy said, looking at the cat-bot. “Miserable way to go, huh? Starving to death inside a tiny glass bubble?”

“Yeah…” Dipper scratched his head. “…No kidding…”

They looked around at the rest of bay 44. There were a few more offline security drones, and a few more metal plants. Wendy put her hands on her hips. “Welp.” She surmised. “It’s official now. The robots are all aliens, and broke out of sector 43.”

“Yep.” Dipper nodded. “Aliens confirmed. Alien robots confirmed. Illuminati confirmed. Halflife 3 confirmed… Everything confirmed.”

“Really dude?” Wendy scoffed. “You’re memeing now?”

“Well, uh… Yeah, it just came to me I guess.”

“General Pineobi.” She said in a general Grievous voice. “You are a bold one.”

“…Is that a meme? I thought that was just a line from Revenge of the Sith.”

“Everything from the prequel trilogy is a meme.” She shrugged. “Anyway, back to the task at hand.”

“Right.” He nodded. “Right. So. They’re aliens. Broke out of sector 43.”

“But that doesn’t really explain much, y’know?” Wendy frowned. “Like, sure they’re aliens, but so what? I still have a lot of questions.”

“What questions?” Dipper asked.

“First of all.” Wendy stuck up her index finger, as if beginning a list. “If the metal life is from HERE, how did it get all the way out to the Forest of Daggers? It’s, like, 12 miles… Who moved it, and how?”

Dipper shrugged. “Maybe they took off the ceiling of 43, turned it over, put all the robots on it, and used it like a sled…? Of course, I don’t know how they’d do that…”

“Yeah.” Wendy shook her head. “Okay, now second question. WHY was this ship hauling a truckload of metal animals? These things are dangerous enough to eat a death drone alive! What the heck were they thinking bringing these along?”

Dipper shrugged again.

“Third question.” She counted off another finger. “In this ship, there’s the probatorium, which is for studying new specimens, and that’s sectors 1 through 12… And then there’s the passenger area, which is sectors 13 through 24… But then ‘organic cargo’, is sectors 25 through freakin’ 48… My question is: what the heck does ‘organic cargo’ mean??”

Dipper scratched his head. “Questions 2 and 3 are basically the same question.”

“Forth question.” She continued. “What caused this ship to crash?”

“Well… I don’t know that either. None of the diagnostic logs seemed to give any clues… Even Granny Shifter’s log hazed over the issue…”

“Yeah. Well, fifth question…” She lowered her voice. “The guy we just ran into down here… Is he the real McGucket??”

Dipper’s eyes grew wide, and he looked back the way they came. “Uh… I don’t know… The shifter is still in stasis in Ford’s lab; I checked a couple days ago… But… Wait… Are you saying…?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying. We know from her tube’s label that Granny Shifter was ‘pregnant’, but we don’t know with how many… And if they all survived for this long… Or if she had a whole batch of eggs, or mixed twins or something… They could have--!”

Dipper (being a mixed twin himself) was quick to correct her. “TMI!”

“Yeah, yeah, sorry… Just had to get that out there, though… There could be hundreds of them, dude. Cross our fingers and hope our mutual friend was a single child… But just saying.”

“Okay… Well… Well… If McGucket is the shapeshifter… Or a shapeshifter… It’s certainly done its reading, much more than last time… It knew Stanford and Stanley were routinely down here… It knew that we confronted the metal life yesterday… It knew McGucket’s taken to building himself robot trousers… Heck, it even knew he uses the word ‘scrabdoodle’!”

“Yeah, but… But…” Wendy said. “Okay, now I’ve got me paranoid: what’s your name?”

“Mason. Middle?”

“Blerble.”

They both sighed.

“Can’t keep doing this.” Wendy said.

“Yeah.” Dipper agreed. “Not knowing who to trust.”

“Totally.”

“…Let’s rendezvous with McGucket.” Dipper decided. “Then head down to the engine room and download more data for Ford… See if we can find any more clues about the crash… Then we get the heck out of here.”

“Okay… And when we leave, let’s head straight to McGucket’s mansion, and see if he’s there too. If he is, that means he either has super-speed, or this one is a fake… But for now, we just keep an eye on him, but don’t give him a single hint that we suspect him.”

“Good idea.”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah.”

Twenty minutes later, not far from the blocked 43 entrance, they came around a corner and ran almost straight into the old man himself. He seemed to have changed significantly in the hour since they’d seen him; and not in a good way. It wasn’t his body, number of limbs, or eyeballs that had shifted, it was his mannerisms: he had an insane look in his eye now, a shaking in his hands, and he was on the verge of complete panic.

“EGAD!” He screeched when he saw the teens. “I don’t—I GEE! I WUZZIT?!? Who-who-who… Are yeh youuuu?!?” To their surprise, he reached into his overalls and pulled out an impressively large ray gun.

“WHOA!” Dipper yelped, fell on his butt, and raised his hands in surrender.

“Calm down there, bucko…” Wendy took a step back, and raised her hands too. “Whaddaya mean?”

“I saw… I saw…” He reached into his overalls again, and pulled out a beefy, steel computer. “I saw words!” He turned the screen toward them. “Words on a wall! Written in blood!” He explained, and read. “Loose mimic outside sector 8… No one to trust! That’s what it said, an’ I know it’s true! ‘Cause I done seen one! Years ago in Ford’s lab, an’ it mimicked PEOPLE! How do I know ya ain’t ‘em?!?”

Dipper and Wendy looked at each other. “We were about to ask you the same thing…” Dipper said.

McGucket gasped for air, and his eyes seemed to bulge out of his head. “I can’t… I’m the one doin’ the talkin’ and the askin’ here, Barney!!”

“Barney?” Wendy asked.

“Same gits fer you, Betty!” McGucket took several steps back, and his fingers closed around the trigger. “Yeh aliens… YEH ALIENS! Just up an’ give… Gimme my robopants and glue back!”

Wendy set the pants on the ground, and kicked them over without a complaint. Dipper did the same for the crate of adhesive.

“An’ raise yer hands!” McGucket yelped, as he reached down to put on the robo-pants (he seemed to have forgotten that their computer was still fried).

Dipper and Wendy didn’t move.

“AH SAID RAISE ‘EM!!” His gun was shaking as he gestured to their hands.

“Umm…” Dipper looked up at his raised hands. “They are raised…”

“ALL OF ‘EM!” McGucket was close to tears. “I kinuht deal with yer alien ways! Raise all yer other weird appendages and doohickies and thingums!”

“Dude.” Wendy told him. “Calm down.”

“YE ALL CALM DOWN!”

“McGucket, you’re not thinking clearly.” Dipper said, and took another step back. “We don’t have any more limbs to raise. Slow down…”

“Take a deep breath…” Wendy added.

“I’M WARNIN’ YEH!” McGucket’s shaking hands pointed the ray gun downward, and released a shot into the floor between them. The passage was instantly lit up by a bright green explosion, and a permanent mark was burned into the metal.

“WOAH!” Dipper jumped.

“GEEZ!” Wendy gasped.

“I’M SERIOUS!” McGucket yelled, and pointed the gun back at them. “I’LL SHOOT YEH ALIENS! GET OUT OF HERE! GO ON! GIT!”

“Okay.” Wendy said. “You win. We’ll git.” She began to retreat, with her hands still raised.

“STAY WHERE I KIN SEE YA!!”

“Okay.” She complied.

“Can we talk about this?” Dipper asked.

“NO, SHUT YER WORD-HOLE! YER GIST TRYIN’ TA TRICK ME!!”

“Okay. We’ll be quiet then.” Dipper agreed.

“WON’T TALK?? I WANT ANSWERS! START SINGIN’, BARNEY!” He pointed the gun at Wendy.

“What do you want?” Wendy asked.

He was crying now. “I wanna know me friends are safe…! What’d ye do with me friends…?? Yeh blasted aliens…”

“We are your friends.” Wendy said. “We’re human.”

“Human.” Dipper reached into his pocket, pulled out his knife, and made a small cut on the end of his finger. “Red blood.” He winced, and tried to remain calm as he showed McGucket the bright fluid. “Human.”

Wendy pulled out her own knife, and cut her own finger. “Red blood too.” She repeated, and showed him. “I’m human too. We both are.”

McGucket stared at them. “Yeh…” He sobbed. “Yer real…?”

“We are. We’re your friends.” Dipper said, pressing his self-inflicted injury into his vest to stop the bloodflow. “…We remember. Remember when we took down the blind eye together? We fought together with Soos and Mabel…”

“Soos…?”

“The fat one.” Dipper reminded him. “He taught you anime, remember? And found the dinosaur for the shack-tron?”

“Eh… Uh…”

“And Mabel.” Wendy said. “The lovely little girl who made us all sweaters? Remember her? We remember her too. Because we’re real. We know each other. We’re your friends.”

“We’re your friends, McGucket.” Dipper said. “We’re real.”

Slowly, a light seemed to dawn in the aged inventor’s eyes. The ray gun finally slipped from his fingers, and clattered noisily to a stop on the floor. Then he fell to his knees, clutched his heart with one hand, his head with the other, and began to weep.

“Me BRAIN!” He cried. “Me poor brain! I’m so sorry…! I’m so so sorry… I gist can’t even trust me own brain…” He gasped. “Me brain told me ta shoot ya! It told me… It told me ye weren’t who ye said… It told me yeh were in grave danger… Hurt or dyin’…  Yeh gotta un’erstand, I been havin’ odd nightmares… An’ they play with the little scraps of memories I can’t remember, an’ the gaps I haven’t filled… People mention things I don’t know, and tell me I was there… An’ people I care about seem ta die… Or do they…? Maybe that’s just the nightmares too… I don’t know, I gist don’t know… I’m so sorry… I’m SO SORRY!”

Dipper breathed a sigh of relief, and shared a glance with Wendy. “It’s okay.” Dipper told the old man. “It’s okay.”

“We forgive you.” Wendy said.

“I thought I fixed ye stupid gull-dang thing…” He pounded his skull with both hands. “Now yeh go an’ break again… Come on brain, yeh kin do it… Yeh kin do it… Just a few more decades, brain… Then yeh kin die and take a breather on God’s golden shore… But ye’ll get someone killed before then… Lord have mercy, ye’ll get someone killed…” And he kept crying.

“Come on man.” Wendy walked up to him, grasped the straps of his overalls, and lifted him to his feet. “It’s okay. We just have one more stop, and they we’re out of here, dude. This place is bad on the nerves anyway. Nobody should be down here alone… (Dipper, grab his blaster, will ya?)”

Dipper picked up the ray gun.

“Yeh… I never will again… Never again…” McGucket promised. “I’m so sorry for almost shootin’ you fellers…”

“Let’s talk about something else.” Dipper suggested. “How about sector 42? What was in sector 42, Dr. McGucket?”

“Eh… In 42… In 42, there was a dang-blasted enormous computer in storage… And some organic cargo that looked like mice… All in giant shippin’ containers… But… Everything was a mess.”

“Describe the mess. What did it look like? What caused it? Come on man, you can remember.”

“The…” McGucket hesitated as he thought. And as his mind drifted away from dark paths and back to the familiar grounds of science and technology, he seemed to relax. His shoulder’s lost their tenseness, and his breathing came easier. “All organic bodies in storage perished during the initial crash.” He began. “But when the metallic creatures breached the bulkhead into 42, they ignored any organic matter and started to attack the computer in storage. They consumed the main processor and solid-state data core first, making special preference to silicon chips and copper wiring, likely to supplement the iron and titanium diet easily acquired from the main hull. The security system attempted intervention, but was treated with extreme hostility. Several containment drones were disabled when captured subjects dug into their primary static-energy power core, although their saws were unable to mar the external silicate shell…”

“Hey, see?” Dipper said. “Your brain’s still fine, McGucket!”

“Eh…?”

“Yeah!” Wendy said. “Were you just listening to yourself talk, dude?? You know science and robots better than anyone on the planet! You’re still smarter than all of us, man! Where would we be without you?”

“Don’t be ashamed of your brain.” Dipper said. “You’ve got the best, McGucket.”

“But… But I still feel crazy sometimes… And I thought I fixed my brain… I guess… I guess it don’t take much ta break it again…”

“It’s fine, man.” Dipper told him. “I get it… Sometimes… Sometimes it seems like my body turns against me too.”

“Yeah, it does.” Wendy vouched for him. “His body turns against him ALL the time. He gets all itchy and sweaty just randomly.” Dipper frowned at this. “But it’s alright!” Wendy continued. “That’s what friends are for! To make up for what we don’t have. To be strong when we’re weak. Right?”

“Aww… Thanks guys.” McGucket nodded. “Thanks… Thanks fer lookin’ out for me…”

“You’re a friend.” Wendy said. “And that don’t change.”

“Never.” Dipper promised.

“Never…” McGucket rubbed his eyes. “Thank yeh. Thank yeh both…” And then, pulling his resolve together, he started down the passage back toward the engine room.

Once he’d gone on ahead outside whispering range, Wendy hissed down at Dipper. “I don’t know… Think he’s a shifter or not?”

Dipper watched their old friend for a few seconds longer. “…No…” Dipper answered. “He’s good.”

They reached the engine room.

“Ah! Ain’t she just a fine machine?” McGucket asked, gesturing to the massive pillars. A smile spread across his face, as he imagined this ship as it would have been in its glory days. “These engines kin play with gravity, play with physics, play with probability… My, it could get yeh gist about anywhere in the ol’ milky way in just a couple months, I reckon… Quite a fine piece a work, eh? I gist wish I coulda seen her in ‘er prime…”

“Well…” Dipper recalled one of the logs he’d seen the previous night. “You think you could get it working again?”

“Eh… I don’t know…” McGucket scratched his head. “I been a peakin’ and a ponderin’ this place fer a while now… An I think some of the engines might still be intact… But reactor 5 is the only primary power source left even close to intact, and I can’t figure how to work it… Ah well. Some other day, perhaps.” McGucket reached into his overalls and pulled out a homemade harpoon gun, so to climb back up the engine room to the ladder.

“Uh, actually…” Dipper put a hand on his shoulder. “When Stan and Ford were down here a couple days ago, they actually found a working control room… That’s where they got the data for your app! Wendy and I were going to get some more data… Maybe you’d like to see it? There could be a way to operate the reactor from in there…”

“Eh… Uh… Sure. We kin give it a quick lookie.” McGucket put away the harpoon, and followed them away from the ladder, and down deeper into the ship. They squeezed their way beneath the pillars, into, between, over and under some other machinery, and finally found themselves at an absurdly thick pair of blast doors. Wendy stuck a piece of alien metal into the crack, and levered it open. Then they turned on their flashlights to see past the darkness, and took a step through.

Dipper stopped after this first step, half in bewilderment, half in horror.

This really didn’t look like a ‘control room’ at all; it looked like a scene from a haunted house. There were alien bodies everywhere, all lying in various positions of pain, panic, or grief. But strangely, none of them were rotted. They weren’t skeletons, like there were elsewhere in the ship. These ones appeared mummified. Dried, flakey, shriveled, but WHOLE… As if they were instantly sterilized as they died, or as if they died by intense heat… Odd indeed… Dust and ash filled the room’s air with a dry, thick taste, and Dipper wondered if they were even getting enough oxygen.

As if the bodies weren’t enough, the screens, levers, knobs and buttons on the walls were almost entirely obscured by chaos. This chaos took the form of smears and stains and dust and scratch marks, but most of all, there was the graffiti. Every available surface was sloppily scrawled over with these various paints, in every conceivable color, size, and font. None of them were neatly written or orderly, and the handwriting was of a quality usually reserved only for distracted toddlers. It would be mesmerizing, if a train wreck was mesmerizing.

“OH MY!” McGucket put his hands to his head when he saw the bodies and graffiti, and turned to Dipper and Wendy with a horrified look. For a moment, he seemed as petrified as the bodies. “First time I ever been here… An… Oh my…”

“Yeah. Don’t worry.” Dipper said. “Everything’s dead… Been dead for a long, long time. They probably wouldn’t even make good zombies at this point.”

“I… I know... But…” McGucket said. “I can feel it…”

“Feel what?”

McGucket choked slightly. “Madness.” He whispered.

“Ooh.” Wendy frowned.

Her and Dipper’s eyes traveled up to the graffiti on the walls, suddenly curious.

“I can’t do it…” McGucket whimpered.

“Can’t do what?”

“Can’t take another step into this room…” His hands began to shake, and he pulled his computer out and handed it to Dipper. Then he pointed to the terminal at the far end of the room. “You have to download the data… I can’t… I… I have to wait outside…”

Dipper nodded, and began to step his way over the bodies and toward the back of the room.

As for McGucket himself, he left them there and rushed out. When he was alone, he knelt down on the metal floor, and began to pray earnestly for mercy. For he didn’t want to stand around and read words written in blood. He didn’t want to examine bodies, or poke and prod at buttons. He felt a darkness here. Some kind of evil, lurking to break into his soul. It was a feeling that seemed familiar from somewhere, although he could no more place the memory than he could explain it. All he knew was that he wanted to flee from it. He had had enough of this ship, and he wanted to get out. Get out immediately.

Back inside the control-room-turned-tomb, Wendy held up the tablet, and began to translate the graffiti. Dipper left the computer plugged into the terminal, and joined her to read:

-Every night I see it. Every day I live it: the pain the child of our greed will birth, as it lashes out indiscriminately at man, woman and child. Surely, some mortals are doomed sooner than others.

-For the wild men, for the reckless men, for the trapped men, for the hungry men; there now sits an advocate. He comes with glad tidings of doom and despair.

-All your sins lay naked before her. She sees your rotten center.

-All is meaningless under the sun. Soon it will end beneath the Earth.

-The Captain was told exactly what he wanted to hear.

-Terror levels holding at 39.72%. Projected 65.21% when they realize the nightmares are true.

-She completely eradicated them. Except for a juvenile, which followed after her like a confused child…

-They cut down the tree, and it fell into ice.

-There is a friend who sticks closer than a brother. Kill him before he kills you.

-Your child the monster will kill them all. Sacrifice yourself to sacrifice it to save them, why don’t you?

-Last night I dreamt of fools. They misused the ship, and it became their tomb. Do you ever get the creeping feeling that they’re you?

-The prophecy seemed far away, but finally we’ve reached the day. Give up the past. Embrace the strange. Everything you care about will change.

-ƉN::ᶌ and Ɖg@}Nᶌ will be here.

They read carefully through these translations. And then read through them again.

“Man.” Dipper said. “Why do prophecies always have to be so vague?”

“I know, right?” Wendy agreed. “I feel like I’m reading evil fortune cookies… Why did they even write this stuff down?”

“Well.” Dipper guessed. “Granny Shifter’s log mentioned an ‘anomaly’ in the universe… And now here, we can see that the crew was starting to have… Prophetic, weird nightmares… And when you consider that all this happened a real long time ago… I think our suspect list is pretty short.”

“Hmm…” Wendy nodded, and a smile spread across her face. “You’re right.” She said. “I guess there’s really only one guy that… Fits the Bill.”

Dipper pondered this pun for several seconds. Finally, he nodded, and said. “That pun was terriBill.”

“Oh… Bill me later.”

“I suppose I’d better Billd up a tolerance.”

They both guffawed.

“Oh, too much… Anyway…” Wendy pointed at a few of the scribblings. “These just sound like ‘wil ol’ Billy, don’t they?”

Dipper laughed. “They do, don’t they? That whole ‘glad tidings of doom and despair’ especially… Just his type of humor…”

“Yeah… And that ‘embrace the strange, everything you care about will change’…” Wendy laughed when she said it outloud. “Man, check it out: it RHYMES when you translate it into English! It’s like he knew we would find it one day…”

“Woah, it DOES rhyme! Soooo creepy…”

“MAN I’m glad he’s dead! That was one twisted little nacho chip.”

“Agreed.” He nodded.

The computer chimed.

“Oh hey!” Dipper jogged over to it. “The download’s done!”

He began to sort through the files. All the logs and data records seemed very neatly organized and categorized… All except for one. One file was separate from all the rest, as if it were added to the system later. He opened it.

- My name is C*:C2M]~, and I am the last sane Engineer.

“The first and fourth letters of his name look a little like ‘C’s.” Wendy said. “Let’s call this guy Dr. Chuckles.”

“Fair enough.” Dipper agreed.

-After the crash, we barricaded ourselves in here, to try and keep out the radiation from the meltdown. If we open the doors, we die. If we keep them shut, I guess we just die slower. But in the end, the radiation is the least of our worries; instead, we fear the deeper things we cannot see: the bloodbath in the mindscape… My name is C*:C2M]~, and I’m sure that I’m the last sane Engineer.

-I’m not sure why the engineering team was affected so badly by the mind event. Maybe it’s our work so near the malfunctioning uncertainty drive; all kinds of improbable things start to happen around it. That machine breaks and reforms reality when it’s working RIGHT… I’m not qualified to even SPECILATE what happens when it’s working WRONG… I think this darkness might get very… Very… Interesting. My name is C*:C2M]~, and I’m reasonably confident that I’m the last sane engineer. At least the only one who can still write such lengthy notes…

-The men started having nightmares 63 days ago, and since then they have proven prophetic. They predicted the crash, they predicted our imprisonment in the control room, they predicted the Captain’s error… They even foreshadowed our own madness. All this means that we’re somehow in communication with something we don’t understand… Something highly… Weird. It may be improbable enough for the uncertainty drive to manipulate. Problem solver that I am, I will see what I can do against this weirdness… My name is C*:C2M]~, and I think I’m the last sane engineer… I honestly feel fine except for the extra eye growing inside my skull; the one looking inward…

-Based on readings from the sensors and from the nightmares, I can only conclude that we are in a most dire situation: A time anomaly will exist in the future. For reasons I can’t imagine, the local region on this planet seems to possess a potent improbability field, and this field will one day allow an enormous time-space paradox to achieve potential here. If left unchecked, or uncontained, this disruption could result in an ZK end-of-the-universe scenario, or at least a YK restructuring-of-reality scenario. Time readings seem to strongly indicate that the anomaly is intelligent, and certainly foreign to this dimension… I think I now have enough data to reprogram the uncertainty drive into a prison for our new god. The perpetual motion emergency generators will be able to keep it running until long after me… If I don’t take the deal, that is… My name is C*:C2M]~, and I might be the last sane engineer…

-But now I wonder: why would I activate the containment field? The anomaly is either trying to warn us… Or taunt us… Or humble us… Or overpower us as a god… I, for one, think it must be a jolly good friend… A most trustworthy individual… My muse has only ever told the truth… Why would I sleep when I can dream standing up? My name is C*:C2M]~, and I could once have been the last sane engineer…

-I dreamed an abomination of warping flesh was loose in the rest of the ship, sent to cull the unfaithful. However, I’m glad that ƉN::ᶌ and Ɖg@}Nᶌ will be able to outsmart it. I’m sure they will be arriving soon… In fact, I foresee that they’re arriving NOW. Forget radiation; I think I’ll open the door, let them in, and introduce them to our friends! My name is C*:C2M]~, and I don’t quite believe in sanity anymore… What do you two think?

“Huh.” Dipper said.

“Huh.” Wendy said, and shook her fist angrily. “BIIIIILL…!”

“Wait.” Dipper frowned. “That’s not the end of the file… There’s more…”

-To whom it may concern: This is ƉN::ᶌ and Ɖg@}Nᶌ.

-We came to this control room to permanently deactivate the ship, and remove the power control couplings for reactor 5 (so that its abilities and technology couldn’t become a weapon for our enemy, as the drones have.) However, we found the engine room exactly as you see it: C*:C2M]~ and his colleagues perished in a twisted sort of way. We don’t know what happened here, or what sort of external enemy or anomaly caused the disabling of their minds. However, it seems that, before he perished, C*:C2M]~ reprogrammed the uncertainty drive to combat this enemy, although he never activated it.

-We have activated it.

-I don’t know who would be reading this. But it doesn’t matter, the same applies: if you are in any way qualified to understand the anomaly, or how better to deal with this extreme threat, please come and talk with us. By now we will have fortified ourselves at the coordinates 156.33/27.81. If you require our help, or if you require the power control couplings for the last reactor, you know where to find us.

-Keep the uncertainty drive field active.

-ƉN::ᶌ and Ɖg@}Nᶌ were here.

“Betty and Barney again?” Wendy scoffed. “They sure get around, don’t they?”

“Wait, hold on!” Dipper scratched his head. “How did Betty and Barney get past the radiation? It was enough to fry everyone else instantly…”

“I don’t know, but check it out!” Wendy said. “The field must have been what kept Weirdmageddon from going global! I guess a lot of people owe Dr. Chuckles their lives…”

“No, they owe Betty and Barney their lives.” Dipper corrected her. “Dr. Chuckles was just a nutcase! I mean, did you listen to his ramblings? This guy went insane, started to think Bill was a friend, and then fried everyone! Like, seriously! This guy was bonkers!”

“Ha ha! Totally!” Wendy laughed. “At first he was all like ‘I’m the last sane engineer’, then he was all like ‘I think I’m the last sane engineer’, and then he was totally off the brink, and was all ‘screw sanity, I feel like a tan!’”

“Ha ha! Yeah…! Ranting and raving with the worst of them…”

“Just writing down more nonsense fortune cookie prophesies…”

From outside the control room, McGucket’s voice rang out. “You kids think right hard about it!”

Thinking their elder might be in trouble, Dipper and Wendy rushed out of the control room to come to his aid. But he wasn’t in trouble. He was just sitting on top of a large pipe, hugging his knees, rocking back and forth on his backside.

“Think right hard about it!” He repeated, turning to them. “Y’all’ve stumbled into matters too great for ya, hear?!? Insanity? Brain demons? Suicide? Prophecy? These are too dark for you kids!” He shook a finger at them. “You don’t understand them yet! I hear y’all laughin’ and jokin’ and pokin’ fun in there, but these AIN’T LAUGHING MATTERS!! Prophecy ain’t for laughin’. Bill ain’t for laughin’. Madness ain’t for laughin’. And most of all, those scriblin’s ain’t for laughin! Yeh should stay warry and aware! Because who knows? If thems really was prophecies, perhaps some of ‘em were written fer YOU!”

He stood up, and took a step towards them. “Kids, you’re right to be afeared! Listen to me, because when I was younger, I pursued these very things too deep! I took a step much too far! I dipped my mind in places no mind should be, and I uttered a prophecy of my own that day! I said ‘When Gravity Falls and Earth becomes sky, fear The Beast With Just One Eye!’ I said that! I don’t remember how or why, but I did! Yeh kin laugh at how vague it is, yeh kin laugh at how silly it sounds, but yer laughin’ don’t change that these are words to be heeded! Don’t you dare laugh at the mad alien engineer in there! Because if you laugh at him, you laugh at everybody else who ever tried to warn you! You laugh at everybody else who ever made a fool of themselves just trying to do right! You laugh at everyone who fate ever drove off the edge! Everyone whose precious brain was ever snatched from them! Everyone who died not understandin’ themselves…”

He shook his head. “That man didn’t do nothin’ funny… That man didn’t do nothin’ wrong… Ain’t his fault what happened, but… But he done the best he could… Eh… Kids, don’t laugh at the madman. The madman’s just like you ‘er me, ‘sept he don’t know what he doin’… Kids, you know me… I was the madman once… I un’erstan’ the madman…”

McGucket walked back to the control room, took a few trembling steps inside, and located the alien closest to the door: the one that had opened it, and let the radiation in. McGucket took off his coat, and laid it over this alien’s face. Then he bowed, closed his eyes, and crossed himself. “I respect the madman…” He said.

And they became a little sadder, and a little wiser.

The humans finally saw fit to leave. They crawled back up through the machinery, grappled back up the wall to the ladder, and ascended.

Soon they were standing in the light again. Wendy stood up, stretched her aching back, and took a deep breath of the fresh Summer air. McGucket blinked a few times as he adjusted to the sunlight, and listened to the chirping of birds. And Dipper cast one last look at the dark hatchway in the ground, and considered the ancient labyrinth below. Call it what you will: a shipwreck, an ancient secret, an alien saucer, a tomb… But the truth remains that there was a darkness there. He’d taken Wendy here on a whim, and now he saw his error: this wasn’t something to treat lightly. Never again would he go in without purpose.

Wendy’s mind, a little boggled and overwhelmed by the events of the day, just decided to enjoy the summer air for a while. She breathed in through her nose and out through her mouth, and felt thankful that she lived on such a beautiful planet as this. Such a beautiful day, wasn’t it? Too bad the Captain and Dr. Chuckles and Betty and Barney never got to enjoy this planet. Too bad all they ever saw was the inside of that rotting, derelict husk of their vessel. Earth is nice… I’m sure they would’ve enjoyed it…

“Wait a minute!” Wendy said, turning to Dipper. “Betty and Barney said they were leaving the wreck, right??”

“Yeah, to set up ‘fortifications’…” Dipper remembered. “They gave some coordinates…”

“And those coordinates…” Wendy asked. “Where do they lead??”

Dipper did some quick calculations in his head, to convert the alien coordinates to human ones. “Uh…” He answered. “Not far… Wait a minute…” He pulled out his map, traced across a few lines, and his finger landed right where he’d hoped: the red outline he’d drawn to represent the Forest of Daggers. The coordinates led to somewhere inside.

“Well.” Dipper said.

“Well well well wellwellwell…” Wendy agreed. “Betty and Barney are now officially the most plot-relevant vandals I’ve ever met.”

Mabel came trudging up the stairs to behold an empty bedroom.

This struck her as odd. Shouldn’t Dipper be here to welcome her home from the hospital…?

Suddenly she remembered her phone. It had rung earlier, and that must have been Dipper. Her phone had been in her right pocket though, and since her right hand was covered in a bandage, she hadn’t been able to answer. Now, she realized she could just reach over with her left hand. “Silly Mabel!” She laughed at herself. “All pockets are for all hands! This is a non-discriminatory, hand-inclusive environment.”

She reached her left hand into her right pocket, and pulled out her phone. It was a group text to her, Stan, and Ford.

-Wendy and i r going 2 explore CSO for clues.

-Will b careful

-If not home by 6:00, come with guns!

She glanced at the clock. It was 4:30. Then she racked her brain. CSO…? What did that stand for? Cookies So Owesome? No, awesome has an ‘A’… Crowded Soap Opera? No, Soap Opera wasn’t Dipper’s thing… Cop-Summoning Octagon? Why would an octagon summon cops? Crazy Soup Orangutan? She’d always wanted one of those, but why would Dipper go to one for clues…? No wait! That’s it! Crash Site Omega! The alien spaceship Ford found! That was it!

Well, she hoped they were having fun. Half the movies that he and Wendy watched had alien spaceships, right? That must mean they thought they were cool, right? Maybe they even thought they were romantic… Maybe they would get in a relationship! No, Dipper already had a girlfriend… Well maybe he could dump her? It wasn’t working out so nice anyway… Oh, whatever.

Waddles came up behind Mabel and nuzzled her ankle. She bent down to hug him, and her mind drifted back to Juan, her mysteriously-teleported-away-and-now-missing pet. The little robo-kitten that had been such a dear part of her life this week… Only to have his own mom show up as a total jerk and try to saw down the house… And then the whole thing where they shot the mom and Juan thought she was dead, and then Juan sawed Mabel, got kicked by Stan, and disappeared in a flash of light…

Where are you now? Who took you away? Is your mom okay? Would he ever forgive us for how we treated you? Could you ever love me again? Juan, if only you knew I forgave you… She glanced down at her bandage. I don’t hold this against you…

As if in response to her thoughts, she heard a small scraping noise coming from her bed.

Her and Waddles both froze, and looked at the source.

Juan’s original containment box was sitting on her bed. The same one Wendy had used back when she first found him. The box was a military-grade steel ammo crate, and although Juan could cut through, he found it very difficult, so he usually didn’t try.

The noise had come from inside the box.

She approached it cautiously. It looked just as it was when she’d last seen it… But who put it on her bed? She thought she’d left it in the closet yesterday…

And why did it have a note attached to it? She bent over and examined the paper. The words had been typed instead of written, so there was no chance of telling the author by the handwriting. But the note said:

Enjoy the time you have with him.

Because it’s not right for him to stay here long.

Find a good place for him, Mabel. We believe in you.

Be wise and loving. Be his hero. Save his life.

Could it be? Could it BE? Mabel reached into the drawer on her bedside table, and retrieved a pair of leather gloves, just in case. Then she gently turned the box toward her, unlatched it, and opened the lid.

Juan stared back at her, alive and well.

She didn’t know how, she didn’t know why, but he was back. And that was all that mattered to her. He was safe. She removed the lid entirely. The robot huddled back into the far corner of the box, and timidly retracted his saws as far as they would go.

She reached in a glove to pet him. To let him know it was alright. That she still loved him, and that he didn’t have to feel sorry or afraid…

But did he?

Stan had wanted to kill him last time, after what he did. Same with Ford. And Dipper hadn’t tried to stop him. No, Juan was right to feel afraid. They might kill him if they knew he was back! That means… Mabel would just have to keep this a secret. It pained her to do so, especially against her own family, but it was the only way to keep Juan alive. She would have to keep him here and not tell anyone… Let him suck on the outlets when nobody was watching. Keep him safe in his box the rest of the time. Play with him when they were alone.

And as soon as possible, find that ‘good place’ for him… Whoever had saved him last night had trusted her, and her alone, with the safety and well-being of this creature.

And she accepted the challenge.

She turned toward Waddles, and shook her head. Waddles met her eyes, and snorted a vow to secrecy. It was nice having a friend who understood these grave matters. Even if that friend was a pig.

[toolatetofall]

Before

Okay, I am so fucking excited. I’ve finished the first draft of part 1 of 6 of my mass effect fanfic. Going long-term, it’s going to be a ShepShep fic, but I think I’m going to characterize their relationship more as queerplatonic than sexual. It’s a 2 Shep AU (obviously) where male Shep is the “main Shepard”, but it’s told from femshep’s POV.

Anyway! It’s in second POV for femshep, and the events in the prologue are prior to joining the Normandy. She has the Earthborn/Sole Survivor background. This is a rough draft, so I haven’t posted it on AO3. To that end, I’d really appreciate hearing thoughts on characterization, writing, any minor mistakes, etc. Please feel free to message me!

I’ve never done a TW before, so if I miss something, please tell me and I will add it! I think the things that need a TW have to do with the backgrounds, so death, physical violence, gang activity. Again, if I miss something, PLEASE tell me. 

Before

The memory of your mother is a hazy one. You know you loved her- her face is harder to conjure. You have the vague memory of citrus perfume, too-blonde hair, shoulders shaking with laughter. You have a holo from her case file, and you suppose you look enough alike, mostly around the nose, but you just... you can’t place her in your childhood. 

It was a Tuesday evening when you found out she was missing. You’d been staying with your neighbor while your mother was at work, parked in front of the TV munching crackers as the characters on screen sang a song about friendship.You can remember every stupid word. 

Amanda, your neighbor, had been getting testy; your mom was late. It was almost three hours past when she got off work when Amanda got a call and chaos broke.

The rest of the evening comes only in flashes now.  The itchy, pink and yellow jumper you’d been wearing with snot-drenched sleeves. The worn, leather seats in the back of your caseworker’s car. An unfamiliar bed in an unfamiliar place. 

It’s a blur; you didn’t understand completely what was happening. You were six. You knew that mom was gone, but you didn’t understand where or why. You asked when she was coming back. 

They didn’t have an answer.

----

Your mother was never found. Maybe she died, either back then or since, maybe she’s still alive somewhere, a survivor of the Reaper war. You have no idea, and frankly you aren’t sure that it matters. At least now. It mattered then. 

Because your mother wasn’t declared legally dead, at least until you were fourteen, you couldn’t be adopted. You didn’t have any family to take you in either- not your mom’s family, she’d never talked about them, and certainly not your father whose name wasn’t even on your birth certificate. Instead, you floated from home to home every few weeks, months, years, hauling all your worldly possessions in trash bags along with you. Some placements were better than others. There was one where you’d only lasted two and a half weeks, but there was another that was almost 18 months. 

The Shepards. You’d liked them; Nick and Silas. They were an eldery couple that you’d moved in with after your 9th birthday. They moved off-planet when you were ten. They’d petitioned to adopt you and take you with them, but your mom was still legally alive, and you were moved. 

You found it hard to settle after that; nothing was comfortable. It couldn’t be. The moment you got comfortable was the moment you’d be moved again. 

The Reds were different. You don’t remember how you fell in with them, not specifically, but you do remember having that aching need to belong somewhere, and that they fulfilled that need.

You were useful to them. You could crawl into places that the others were too big to get into. You could get into a building and squirrel away cargo, or let others in. You weren’t a bad pickpocket either. You were a child; if (when) you got caught, you could play innocent, not like the others. You could claim ignorance, youth. The Reds protected you. You were indispensable. 

Until you weren’t.

----

Your biotics announced themselves with an explosion of blue light. You’d been in the middle of a job with Miller, trying to sneak some cargo out of a warehouse outside of Vancouver. He’d said something (you can’t remember what now, but it had pissed you off), and suddenly there was a flash of blue, he’d been thrown into the shelves a few meters away, and the bones in your arm had wrenched themselves apart. You’re sure you screamed, that both of you did, but you don’t remember. The pain had been so blinding that you’d passed out in seconds. 

When you woke up in the hospital, you weren’t alone. Your caseworker, Cecil, was there, accompanied by a dour faced person in navy blue. Sargent Blake, Cecil had told you. Sargent Blake was there to invite you to the Alliance. 

The System’s Alliance needed biotics; they’ve always needed biotics, and the state wasn’t really equipped to handle them. The Alliance had a program for biotic children. They’d taken care of the criminal charges you’d faced, and they would provide food, lodging, and education. You were a ward of the state, and the state transferred your custody while you’d slept. Invite. Feh. Like hell. The decision had already been made. 

Still, you were luckier than Miller. You found out later that he was comatose for almost eight months, and arrested after he awoke. To say the Reds would no longer welcome you would be an understatement. They would’ve loved to get their hands on you. 

Didn’t matter. The Alliance had you.

----

“Jane Shepard? The doctor will see you now.” You’d hesitated before following the nurse out of the waiting room. Shepard. It felt so odd. You hoped the change would keep the Reds from finding you, and you knew Nick and Silas wouldn’t mind. 

Still, there were a lot of changes in a short amount of time. New ability, new name, and now new place and new species. Well, new to you anyway. As your salarian nurse took you to your exam room, you’d tried hard not to stare as they ran you through a standard medical battery.  The alliance had brought you and all of their other new trainees to the citadel to get your physicals and your implants. It was surreal. You’d never seen an alien before, at least in person. Everything was so new, you’d never felt so... off balance before. But this was your new normal, and you had to adjust eventually.

----

You officially enlisted in the Alliance on your eighteenth birthday, to the surprise of no one. You’d already been engaged in their biotic training program for almost two years, and you were close to completing your secondary education under the program. 

Every single teenager in that program ended up enlisted. Sometimes you guys liked to think of what you guys could do outside the Alliance; teachers, writers, cops, scientists, everything, but for the life of you, you’d never been able to imagine anything else. The Alliance felt inevitable; biotics weren’t exactly welcome in civilian life, and you didn’t have the money or support system to try to strike out on your own.

Basic was split, biotics separate from the others. It was weird. In this place of training and strength, there was an underlying understanding. The biotics were more dangerous. They had had training before. They didn’t need a weapon; they were weapons. But at that point you weren’t sure how to be anything else.

----

Nomination for ICT wasn’t a surprise. You’d worked your ass off for the Alliance and anyway, if there was a push for biotics to join the military, there was a shove to get them into special forces. You’d been a good little biotic; kept your head down, temper in check, taking and conquering even the most basic assignments without problem or complaint. 

Despite the competitive atmosphere of Vila Militar, you’d ended up making friends for the first time in years. Or maybe they made you. Shaw, a too-energetic, puppyish engineer, was never going to let you shrug off his friendship, he was too damn persistent. John Shepard had also been pulled into his orbit, and the two of you had bonded over your exasperation with Shaw, mutual love of shit beer and competition, and frustration at sharing a name.

The three of you were an odd group, but it worked. Shaw was excitable and personable, keeping you together with sheer will. John (not Shepard, you’re Shepard) was responsible, a group mom through and through, trying in vain to keep you out of trouble. And you? Well, you’ve always been a bit... brusque, but they balanced it well. 

They were family, or the closest you’d had in a long time. The rest didn’t matter.

----  

John-fucking-Shepard, the big-fucking-hero. Of course he was on Elysium during the Skyllian Blitz, and of course he kicked ass to the point he was getting the Star of Terra, not to mention his damn N7 commendation. 

“Just in the right place at the right time,” he’d said sheepishly when you and Shaw had caught up with him after the ceremony. You’d never rolled your eyes so hard. John always had a lucky streak a mile wide and it wouldn’t end anytime soon. 

“That’s okay,” Shaw had replied with a grin as you pulled John into a headlock and messed his hair. “We’ll get you next time.”

He’d laughed because of course he did. “I look forward to it.”

----

When you had landed on Akuze with your unit, you’d expected pirates. Slavers. A straightforward explanation to the missing colonists. Instead, the only thing to greet you were empty, undisturbed buildings. It was like everyone just got up and left. 

Your platoon, all 49 of them plus you and Shaw, searched the colony on your commander’s orders, but there was nothing. The terminals were all wiped clean, the data pads were gone, there weren't any tracks. Hell, there wasn’t even dust. 

You all made camp nearby as the sun sunk below the horizon. None of you would say so but there was something eerie about the lost colony. Haunted. Like the planet was holding its breath.

The first maw came near midnight, announcing itself with a roar and with trembling ground that shook you out of sleep. They caught you by surprise. You may have had guards and scouts, but there was no warning. 

You don’t remember much of the attack, dammit, you don’t remember. There are flashes of chaos- gunfire, screams, thresher maws pulling whole ground transports full of soldiers beneath the Earth. You remember running so hard your breath was just quick gasps, the cobalt corona of your biotics expanding around you, flashes of Shaw’s face contorted with resolution, the red of viscera everywhere you look. 

You’re not even sure if those are real memories, or just echoes from your nightmares. Maybe it’s your brain filling in the gaps from what you’ve been told. 

You were found 11 clicks away from camp, splattered with blood and armor corroded from acid, and passed out from pain (or so you were told. You don’t remember). Both of your arms had broken during the ordeal, likely from over-extending your biotics. You were alone. No platoon, no Shaw, not even a single body. The team that found you said that the colony was in a maw nest, that six thresher maws had attacked the camp. They destroyed the colony, the camp, and your platoon. In return, the unit only managed to kill two of them, but the bastards had the element of surprise. 

You didn’t put it together until you were in a hospital, but something was wrong. More wrong than losing your whole platoon, losing Shaw, to fucking worms. They’d said the colony must have been destroyed by the maws, that they must have killed the colonists, but that’s not right. Those buildings were spotless. There were no bodies. There was no anything. The maws didn’t kill the colonists. They’re not that clean. 

You tried to tell the brass. They’d given you your N7 commendation for surviving that hell; you thought that meant they’d trust you. They didn’t. 

“You’ve been through a lot,” they’d told you at the memorial. “Maybe you need to take some time.” Maybe they were right, but you still knew what you saw. If you wanted answers, you’d have to find them on your own time. 

----

You hit a lot of dead ends fast, and used up most of your leave following up leads that took you nowhere. It’d barely been a year before you only had one path left.  The Shadow Broker.

It took every last credit you had, but they agreed to send an agent to meet you. 

John agreed to go with you to the meet up point on the Citadel, in some hole in the wall cafe. It felt like time was slowing down as the agent approached. You were finally going to get answers. Then time stopped with a loud CRACK, and the contact fell dead, a hole left in the middle of their head. 

You were paranoid; you’d always been paranoid. That day, it’d saved your ass. You’d been trying to get the fuck out of there when another bullet ripped through your barrier, bruising your back but, mercifully, nothing more.

You’d been far from the door. There had been two shooters, above, out of sight. 

You and John didn’t say so after you’d escaped, but it had been a warning shot. Any snipers worth their salt could have killed you. 

Stupid, you were so stupid.

You’d returned to your apartment, head pounding. Before you said a word, John had pulled you against his chest, squeezing hard. You remember looking him in the eyes, seeing the naked fear there.

“Stop looking.”

You’d promised you would.

You didn’t.

----

Well, at least not intentionally. When you contacted the Shadow Broker again (or their intermediary anyway), you were informed the price for the information had doubled. You were already broke, you couldn’t afford the information. You tried to double back and get your hands on the report from that day in the cafe, but there was nothing solid to follow, no leads. 

What you got instead was a new assignment. 

Operation Adrestia. The words tasted odd in your mouth. It’s internal affairs, sort of. Monitoring and chasing leads on operations led by humans that would wreck Alliance credibility with the Citadel. Monitoring and thwarting fringe scientists, extremists groups, keeping tabs on category sixes... 

You didn’t do the investigation, just acted on information the brains gave you. If you were honest, you actually liked it. At least it was more interesting than your service had been. Lead to some good stories at least. 

Disrupting a Terra Firma attack on a predominantly salarian transport. 

Stopping colonial governments in the Traverse from antagonizing batarians to trigger Alliance/Hegemony conflicts. 

Even the less ostentatious operations like quietly discharging an Alliance attache who’d looked a little farther than legal into AI.

It kept you busy, but it was work you loved.

----

It was 2183 when you were contacted by Admiral Kahoku. He had found out his squad was lured to their deaths with a false distress signal in the middle of a maw nest and correctly assumed you’d be interested in following the thread. Akuze was common knowledge, and Kahoku was the first member of the brass to even humor your idea that it was anything other than a tragic accident. 

He’d gotten in touch with the Shadow Broker. They’d given him a name and a location. 

Cerberus. 

Binthu in the Voyager Cluster. 

Finally, a chance for answers. 

He was planning to go and wanted back up. Probably smart, considering how Cerberus disrupted your previous contact with the Broker. 

It was quick and quiet, like everything you did for the Alliance. Scans of the planet reveal three active Cerberus strongholds. 

The two of you decide that time was of the essence, that you needed to be quick to get information before they noticed you. 

You decided to split up. 

That was a mistake.

[greyias]

Yet Another Ask Meme

Tagged by the always lovely @mjaydesw ! Thanks :D

A) What does the last text you sent say? And to whom? “🎺 that’s the closest I see to a whistle" To my boss. Uh, it makes sense in context

B) What does the last text you received say? And from whom? “Lunch trumpet.” From my boss.

C) What time do you wake up most mornings? Weekdays? Between 7:30-7:50, depending on how motivated I am to get out of bed. Somewhere around 9 or 10 on the weekends.

D) Are you afraid of walking alone at night? I like to think of it more as “rationally cautious”. And I rarely walk anywhere as things are pretty spread out in Texas so it takes forever and a day to get anywhere on foot.

E) What do you do to relax at the end of a stressful day? Pour a liberal glass of wine or beer, and unwind in front of the TV or the computer depending on my mood. Really stressful? Usually I grab a controller and go smack something inside of a virtual world to take out my aggression. It’s very therapeutic

F) Where did your last kiss take place and with whom? It was back in February at the apartment of a guy I had been seeing who I had affectionately dubbed “Star Wars Guy”. He was not a good kisser, and got himself rechristened to “Dog Shover” when one of my pooches got protective as he was getting handsy. I broke up with him via text. On Valentine’s Day. While I was stuck in an airport. …have I mentioned I’m such a catch?

G) Do/did you get into trouble a lot at school? Ahaha hahahaha ahahahhahaha ahahahahaha… no. I was a disgusting goodie two-shoes and frequently a teacher’s pet. Sorry not sorry.

H) Do you enjoy your job? If unemployed, are you content being so? Most days! Every job has it’s ups and downs, and this one has had a lot of downs in recent years but, hey, the benefits are good, and it’s a rarity for my field to have steady work so I’m thankful for that. And my newest boss is actually a good guy and not a micromanager, and that helps like 1000%

I) Do you often pick up on double entendres and innuendos? Define often? I would say it’s about half and half, because sometimes I’m not paying attention or thinking about something else, so there will be like a few beats of me being quiet before suddenly getting it.

J) Have you ever been offered drugs but declined? Yeah, last time was a few years back when my entire family (including my parents) thought it was a SMASHING idea to smoke some weed from one of my sister’s friends. I declined because meh, recreational highs, and also my job does random drug screenings, and that can get me terminated on the spot. Turns out it was a bad batch of weed, and they all started having epic freak outs, and my father nearly gave himself a concussion. Good times.

K) Have you ever met someone who has completely altered your way of thinking? I’ve not met any one person who’s done that, but I have read and listened to conversations that have completely opened my eyes to things I didn’t realize were happening in the world. That did wind up altering a lot of long-held beliefs, but in a good way I like to think I’m a more understanding empathetic person these days because of that.

L) Have you ever been offered drugs and accepted? Nope. See: disgusting goodie two-shoes

M) Tell us something weird that turns you on. I… don’t know? I don’t really experience attraction the way I understand a lot of other people do, so “turn on” is a bit of a misnomer in that sense. I usually need a pretty strong emotional connection/attraction to someone first, the other stuff comes later. I guess that can be what’s weird? IDK.

N) When did someone last admit romantic or sexual feelings for you? Was the feeling mutual? See, life would be AMAZINGLY SIMPLE if people used their words, instead of, say, springing random romantic picnics on me during what was supposed to be hangout sessions, or just moving in for a kiss without saying “Hey I like you”. I mean, yes, it becomes much more obvious after that, but give a girl some warning! (I should note, this could just be a “geeky guy thinks he’s suave” thing)

O) What is something you have given a lot of thought to lately? Plotting and various stories that are in-progress, how to get my kitchen clean, re-establishing my healthier habits I fell out of, video games, the number 42, the need to balance my checkbook, matters of love, you know, the usual

P) When did you last swallow your beliefs to avoid an argument or confrontation? Just about every time I’m around my family. We… don’t see eye to eye on a lot these days.

Q) Do you usually initiate hugs? Not usually, no. I’ve been accused by more touchy-feely people of being allergic to them – but mostly I just don’t want to make people uncomfortable. There’s a few people I hug more freely, but usually that’s a rapport we’ve already established.

R) Are you a very affectionate person? It’s something I try to be more aware of. I have a feeling I appear more distant at times because I’m used to keeping things in a lot.

S) Can you roll your own cigarettes? Nope. I do have a nicotine-free vape that I can sometimes not burn my throat with… I’m not very good at the whole smoking thing. Probably for the best.

T) What are you looking forward to? The weekend. More vacation time (whenever I figure out when to schedule it). Writing. More story stuff in SWTORs, hanging with friends.

U) Do you have any tattoos. Do you want any/more? Nah. I could never figure out what I wanted to be stuck with for the rest of my life.

V) Are you mentally strong? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

W) Are you physically strong? Hahaha… no.

X) Do you think you’re a good person? I try to be a good person as much as possible, which is all anyone can really do. I probably succeed to varying degrees depending on the day.

Y) Name one thing you wish you could change about your life right now. Just ONE? I guess I wish I had more time, energy, and focus, as that is one thing that keeps me from being able to do everything else.

Z) What do you usually eat for breakfast? Lately it’s been a breakfast sandwich from the freezer. I’m hoping to get my lazy bum out of bed earlier so I can try and work some vegetable smoothies back into the mix.

Tagging: Tag yourself in!