#uhhhh hi all… if you recognise me… don’t worry about it!! :)

[noodles-and-tea]

YOU’RE ALL I EVER WANTEDDD

YOU’RE ALL I EVER NEEDEDDD

[tears-and-lilies]

Chapter 31 – Market

This time I think it’s more fitting to put the author’s note at the end.

Tag: @whumpfigure @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @green-eyed-whumpster @liliability @untilthepainstarts @unicornscotty @sideblogformindtrash (even though you have many eyes :3)

CW: death mention, murder mention, PTSD, panic attack, mention of past torture

***

Glorien clenched his jaw. It was hard to forget what had happened at the end of the ceremony, though he wished he could. Lately he found himself constantly at the verge of crying. It was guilt. He knew whenever he saw the carpenter’s face in his dreams. But it most certainly wasn’t guilt for Jeremi’s death. The more days passed, the more he loathed every memory of the man.

He was standing at a small market stall, pretending to admire “the finest cups and pottery of the Koian Empire” as the seller repeatedly announced them to any passer-by. Most of them were earthenware, and Glorien had seen better relief-work than what these pots and cups had going on. He remembered a particular cup at home, a silver cup his mother had gifted him on his fifteenth birthday. It had a beautiful relief that depicted a scene from his favourite piece of literature, where the hero Roi met the spirits in the mountains of Derreia. The relief had been so detailed, with tiny flowers scattered everywhere. The memory was melancholic and he picked up a cup to distract himself. Instead of a relief, this one was painted.

‘Ah, an excellent choice’, the seller commented. ‘And perfect for an imperial dancer!’

Uneasily Glorien pulled the cloak he had borrowed from Aurora tighter around him. ‘I’m not interested in buying.’

‘Are you sure? I doubt you will ever find such fine earthenware again! And look at that beautiful paint! That figure is one of your friends, how can you leave it?’

He recognised the tall white figure painted on the cup, dancing in the sun. Swiftly he put the cup back down. ‘He’s not a friend’, he said. Jespen appeared more and more on pottery and tapestry lately.

‘Really?’ The seller sounded surprised.

‘Hey Glo- uhhhh, friend! I found it!’

He turned to see Carla waving at him. He smiled. He appreciated her effort to not say his name in public. He walked up to her.

‘I found a stand where they sell papers!’, she said.

‘Nice, let’s go then.’

They made their way through the many stalls on the main square. Glorien kept his eyes on the ground. We’re only buying paper, then wait for Aurora to finish off her errand, and then we’ll go back. He’d rather stay at the palace, but Aurora had convinced him to come with them to the market to get him new paper to write on. Otherwise he’d just lie in bed all day with nothing to do, she said. She was worried about him. But that was what had been gnawing at him the entire time at the market.

‘Hello! Are you still there?’, Carla asked, waving her hand in front of his face.

‘Yes. Sorry, I was just… The vendor seemed to react to the fact that I’m a dancer for the palace.’

Carla shrugged. ‘Yeah, that’s why we don’t go out in our uniforms.’ She realised what she said and quickly added: ‘But it’s fine now! If you have to wear it if you want to go out, we’ll wear it too. It’s no big deal.’

They arrived at the stall. Carla pointed out the paper she saw fitting, and Glorien followed her advice. The paper he was used to was too expensive, so he had to try out other kinds. He was relieved when Carla finally could put one in the bag she brought with her.

‘So, that was that. Now you can continue with your poem or story or whatever, and Aurora can stop complaining you’re staying in bed too much when you’re finally allowed to go outside. Speaking of which, do you know what time it is?’ He was only allowed to leave the palace for maximum two hours.

He shook his head. ‘There’s an older tower that way that has a sundial on the wall. It’s from that building that belongs to the girls’ orphanage, I believe.’

‘Oh, you might be right! I never really noticed. Do you want to stay here while I go look for it?’

He had told her how he felt weird about going to this square. When the market was here, the sinister feeling it had had that day was gone, but still… No, don’t think about it, don’t think about it, don’t-

‘Actually, there’s something I want to tell you’, he said hastily. ‘I’ll come with you, I need a quieter place for this.’

So they searched their way to the tower. Glorien was shivering, despite being cold. He held the cloak tighter around him once again. He couldn’t help look over his shoulder every now and then. The further they got, the more frequently he found himself looking back. It’s just a market. Nothing else. Not that. Don’t think about it.

‘Hey, are you sure you’re alright?’

He jumped. ‘Yes! Yes, I’m fine…’ He turned his head again, he couldn’t help himself.

‘… Okay. What did you want to tell me?’, Carla asked when they turned a corner.

But he didn’t process her words. Instead, he was occupied with the small glance he had of the podium. He shouldn’t have looked back, he knew it would happen eventually. It’s nothing. Don’t think about the execution. No- He gasped for breath, covering his mouth to stop the sobs that were following.  

‘Glorien?’

Carla gently placed a hand on his back, but the touch made him jerk away.

‘No! Don’t say my name!’, he cried, and ran off. He couldn’t stand it any longer. He did his best, he really tried, but he couldn’t forget the feeling of shackles around his wrists and a blade sliding down his back. He wanted it to get off of him, even though he knew there was nothing there.

While he ran, he was painfully aware of the stares people gave him. Emotionless. No, leave me alone. He hid behind a corner of some building, sliding down onto the ground with his back against the wall. He hugged his legs, wishing for the feeling to pass. ‘Just go. Leave me alone. I was doing so well, please. I don’t want to think about that.’

Carla found him crying and mumbling incoherently. ‘I’m sorry, I forgot’, she muttered. She stood there, awkwardly, shuffling on her feet.

‘Leave me alone’, Glorien said.

‘Oh! Okay.’

‘No! Not like that. I- I’m so scared I’ll hurt you and Aurora, when you’re nothing but kind to me.’ He leaned his forehead against his knees. ‘My old friends got hurt simply because they were my friends. Be- because of me, an innocent man got painfully tortured. What will happen to you?’ He gulped. He was so alone. Trying to get rid of his only friends was the right thing to do, but it felt so utterly lonely. But he’d rather feel lonely than hurting others.

‘Okay’, Carla responded. ‘That sucks.’

His crying got louder, he almost choked in his sobs. He pulled his hair to get some relief, his stupid dyed hair. Why couldn’t he just be himself again? Glorien never pushed others away. I should have.

‘I think I’ll go look for Aurora. Maybe she can help you?’

He didn’t react, so she went. By the time she and her sister returned, Glorien had calmed down a bit. His head was mostly filled with fog now. He felt slightly relieved to see Aurora squatting down in front of him.

‘Hey, how are you feeling?’

He blinked slowly. ‘Fine’, he said, for lack of a better word. ‘I’m a bit dizzy.’

‘Alright. That must have been scary. I’m proud you made it through.’

He didn’t know how to react, so he smiled faintly.

‘I finished my errand with the tailor. Do you want to see it? It’s for you.’ She held out a bag with a strap to hang it over one shoulder.

He reached out to touch the rough fabric and gently took the bag in his hands. ‘For me?’, he mumbled. Then he saw the yellow thread sewn on. His name, embroidered into the side of the bag. He let a finger brush over it. It didn’t look like it was worth much, yet never had a present ever felt so personal.

‘Since you’re allowed to go outside, I figured it would be useful to carry any belongings you need with you’, Aurora said. ‘I mean, that’s what a bag is for.’ She smiled.

He had failed this day, but… He felt warm inside. ‘Thank you.’ He’d keep this bag close to him. He couldn’t help it. When kindness was offered to him, pushing it away only hurt. He didn’t want Aurora and Carla to be hurt, but he couldn’t push them away either. Maybe he could look for a middle ground. If he kept them distant enough…

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

o.0 Guys!!! I finished part 1! The division between parts only make sense in my head, so don’t worry too much about it, but!!!! I never thought I’d get this far! Honestly the support I received has meant so much to me, and I’m glad I decided to post this story online. Thanks for everything!

[delicrieux]

Can we get some uhhhh Mutual Pining and Cuddling for Warmth with one of the marauders?

to this request i silently whispered “yes....”

Remus Lupin knew you would never engage him in conversation, or offer to have breakfast together, or help with homework, or any of the sort. To him you were a mirage, pretty, but far away. And perhaps he had, on moments of dullness or dissociation, dreamed what you were like: to talk to, to joke to, to... Well, admitting it would tarnish him. He is terribly shy, but more than that, terribly lacks self-confidence due to the beast locked inside his body until the next full moon. He’s absolutely riddled with fear at the mere prospect of hurting anyone, of even the chance that it might happen. And so he keeps people away, pushes them out, and even when involved in conversation with James or Sirius or Peter he is always, in his own way, reserved and distant. He knows they love him for who he is. The problem is that he despises himself with such unfiltered disgust that it is hard to remind himself that it is only his tormented thoughts that paint him as a monster; that no one besides himself sees him in that light.

Alas, he could never allow himself to indulge with you, the risk of rejection and self-sabotage is too great. Therefore you live inside his daydreams, safe from harm, from him, oblivious to his feelings or how sometimes he sneaks glances at you in class.

But if he only knew what sort of things rummage inside that head of yours, what sort of butterflies erupt in your chest when he walks into your line of vision. He is always so swift, yet strangely refined, tense, in control, though his face never once warped into a frown in your presence - it had always stayed deliberately neutral or soft. And your friends, quick to notice as they were notoriously perceptive, teased you about this crush often. It was a ridiculous one, that you knew. You didn’t even know him personally! Had never even uttered “Hello!”. But you almost knew what he was like, just from observing him. Almost knew how the conversation would go, if you ever approached him, or vice versa. Imagined scenarios in double digits on how you’d meet him, prepared for each one just in case.

Nothing happened, of course. He lived inside your daydream with you.

No amount of myths, legends, daydreams, or imagination could have prepared the both of you for the actual way you’d meet. Fate is funny like that - nothing ever happens the way one plans it.

It’s the 7th of December and a storm is brewing, wind howling in your ears. Hogsmeade was frozen over since last Sunday, though the townies swore the weather had been lovely: setting sun, cloudless sky, crisp air, dancing ice sculptures, piles of puffy snow that decorated the small houses like icing. And it had been a wonderful afternoon, one full of gossip, butterbeer, Christmas shopping. That was, of course, till the first gust of wind nearly knocked you off of your feet. All changed from there: the sky darkened with clouds, snowflakes raged, it was suddenly freezing and ice started to collect on the windows, on the loose strands coming out your hat. Everything was white and hazy and you couldn’t hear a thing; separated from your friends and from the rest of the world you quickly searched for shelter. Fear picked at your throat and your nerves were the only thing keeping you alert and from hypothermia. After what felt like eternity you spotted a building, a house, a something and ran to it, nearly tripping over your own two feet before yanking the door open and the wind shut it behind you.

You breathe slow, steady, standing eerily still by the entrance. You only now realise where you are; you recognise the old stairwell, the dust, the rotting wood, the creaks that sound like wails from ghosts, all collected from stories your friends had shared about the most haunted place in Hogsmeade. The Shrieking Shack. It is absolutely silent, however, besides the moans and howls of the wind blowing past barged up windows. Snow is already covering the floor with a thin layer. You release a breath you had been holding and it comes out your lips in white smoke. Your clothes are damp and you start to shiver. Groping for you wand you—

A loud thud echoes from upstairs, then something that closely resembles a hiss. You freeze. Then spring into action, only to realise that your only means of getting dry, of casting spells, of protecting yourself is not with you. It must’ve fallen out, you realise in horror, it must’ve happened when I ran. Your teeth begin to clatter, fingers stinging, numb. It might be a bird, or a cat, or a raccoon, or anything but a ghost, you reassure yourself. And really, if it is a ghost you’ll join it soon if you loiter by the door instead of looking for something warm. Snow crunches under your feet as you move to the stairs, making your way up. The second floor is brighter than the first, yet it rocks from side to side gently, as if on a boat, and for a moment you feel light headed. Rooms with no doors greet you from all sides. No sign of ghosts, though. You pick at random and—

You physically jump when you see him, a strangled noise of surprise escaping your lips, eyes wide in terror. Remus Lupin, of all people, sits on a ragged bed, pale and sickly, scars and bruises covering his face, his clothes ripped and tattered. Around him is a mess: wild claw marks on the floor, broken furniture, shredded paintings and wallpaper... He glances up, startled, brinks a few times, rubs his eyes as if not believing them.

“A-Are you okay?” You ask, rasp, almost voiceless. He gives a nod. You frown, “You s-sure?”

He clears his throat, “Got caught in the storm.” He says hoarsely, looking away from you, “Ungracefully landed here, and, well... ripped my clothes on some nails.” He finishes, rubbing the back of his neck.

“A-And your f-fac-e.” You add with a shaky smile. He releases a humourless laugh.

“Yea, that too.”

He finally turns to you and a bit of warmth rushes back into your body, though not enough to feel your fingers, or your toes. He gives you a shy smile and glances you over, the smile diminishing into worry as he stands up and yanks the sheets off of the bed, sending a flurry of dust your way, “You must be freezing.” He says, offering it to you.

“Aren’t y-you?” You question. He shrugs.

“I...am...sort of. Not nearly as bad as you, though.” He insists, and you relent, if a little. “Where’s your wand?” He asks once you wrap the fabric around yourself - it does little but reek of mold. With your head you vaguely motion to the windows.

“Lost. Yours-s?”

“Uhh-yea, mine too.” He utters, another hiss that sounds a lot like a swear falling from his lips. You relax, almost laugh - it was him you heard, of course it was.

“S-so no fire, then.” You attempt to lighten the mood, but all he does is nod solemnly and you realise it was for naught.

“You’ll catch a cold.” He states the obvious, but in a way that sounds gentle, concerned, though as if he knows it is inevitable. “Damn, if only I...” He gives you another once over, “Uhm, well, I, uhm-I’m Remus, by the way. Remus Lupin.”

It takes you a second to register his name, suddenly feeling giddy - you, of course, already knew it. It also dawns onto you that you might already have a fever. With a crooked smile you introduce yourself and he nods, pleased. Then, he starts again, “Well, I have this— I don’t... please don’t take it the wrong way or anything like that, I just don’t want you to fall sick or-or worse, so, I, well-“ He does a motion with his hands, as if they would somehow convey his point, “you should- not that you need just, uhm- should, should take off your jacket, and hat, and scarf, everything that’s soaked.” He turns his gaze away, suddenly more interested in the marks on the floor, “They’ll keep you from getting warm.” He adds, quieter.

You feel slow. As if he’s moving, talking, changing courses and topics too quick for you to follow. Chills wash your body in cold sweat like waves, and you nod after a moment of consideration.

“Y-you’re nifty.” You say, shrugging off the sheets and they ungracefully fall to the floor. He quickly picks them up and smiles, happy that you’d taken his advice, “You’ll... hav-e t’help me, t-though.” You stutter; your limbs feel numb and heavy.

“Oh!” Heat rushes to his cheeks and he throws the sheets onto the bed and approaches you, “Of course, I, just...” He trails off, not exactly certain on what he wanted to say. You slowly pluck your hat from your head and drop it on the floor, then move to the scarf and unwrap it. The cold air bites your neck and you suck in a breath. “Here.” He mutters, helping you take it off, his hand brushing yours. Your eyes widen. His touch feels like fire.

“Y-You’re r-really warm, y-you know t-that?” You question, watching him work on your coat. He gulps.

“Uh-Yea, runs in the family.”

“A-Are you related t’dra-g-gons or something?” You ask.

He looks at you, locks your gaze, and your heart skips a beat. His lips melt into a smile.

“Something like that.” He admits and takes off your coat, folding it neatly. Left without an outer layer, the cold attacks your body fiercely, and you stagger to the bed, as quickly as you can, and curl into a little ball, wrapped up in blankets.

When Remus is done collecting your things, he places them neatly on a table that has the least damage done to it - only a chewed up leg. He joins you, sits down next to you, and immediately his presence radiates heat like a furnace.

“I-I wish I h-had your genes.” You say, trembling. Something painful crosses his features, but what you can’t place. He doesn’t say anything, just lifts his arm up as if to touch you, but then hesitates. Your gazes meet again and he awaits for permission, and you, with a small, broken voice, only manage to murmur “Please”.

He pushes you close to his body under the blankets and sheets and you shiver in delight. You press closer to him, if possible, as if trying to absorb all the warmth you can. It feels better, instantly, and calmer, and you can smell the remnants of his earthy cologne and blood and sweat.

“You’re like a popsicle.” He mutters into your hair.

“S-Sorry if you catch hypothermia because of me.” You say sleepily.

“I’ll be fine, you need to worry about yourself now.” He urges gently, “And... try not to fall asleep, no matter how much you want to, okay?”

“Okay. When do you think the storm will end?”

“Soon, hopefully. You need to see Madam Pomfrey.”

“She’ll probably scold me.”

He breathes out a laugh, “I have yet to meet a student she hasn’t scolded.”

“Even you?”

He pauses. Then, “Especially me.”

If you were in the right state of mind you would have asked why, but it matters little at the moment. All you can focus on is how close he is and how safe he is and how warm he is. The prospect of leaving to see Madam Pomfrey did not seem appealing at all.

thank you for reading! i hope you enjoyed & feedback is always welcomed 🖤

[danetobelieve]

End Of The Mime || Simon and Winston

Getting sent down to the morgue normally wasn’t so bad, they got to see Cece and Dr Kavanagh. But this time when Winston had left the station their mime had been sat in it’s cell. It was in the same place it had been since Roland had someone put them in there. It had not said anything. Yet there was something about the stillness, the malevolence in the silence, it sent a shiver down Winston’s spine even thinking about it. They didn’t know why but they got the feeling that leaving the station was a mistake. But they couldn’t exactly say no and it was getting late, they’d be going home soon. Walking down the corridors of the morgue, they headed towards Cece’s office, spotting the Janitor they paused to greet them. “Hey, Simon right?” they said tucking the stack of files they were carrying somewhat haphazardly under a single arm and sticking out a hand for the customary handshake, “I’m Winston, I don’t think we’ve properly met, I’m an intern at the station.” 

He wasn’t sure why he was there - Simon supposed he felt the residual filth from helping Dr. Kavanagh recently with her escaped beetle problem and he wasn’t one to simply let things sit, especially if he could make an area look better than when he arrived. The work was tedious but that worked in his favour most of the time and he found himself zoning out slightly when he caught a scent and he glanced up just in time to see a young individual approach him with papers and an extended arm for a handshake. “Er... hi, Winston,” He nodded politely, returning their handshake. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Now he knew where he recognised the scent - he remembered faint traces of it when he’d walk through the station for one reason or another. Now he knew who it belonged to; that would make it easier for him in the long run, he thought. “What brings you to the morgue this fine… evening? Afternoon?” He glanced down at his wrist as if there was a watch there - there wasn’t. Right. “I lost track of time.” He shook his head. “Anyway, what brings you here?”

Raising an eyebrow gently Winston was pleased to find that they weren’t the only person who was slightly awkward, they weren’t sure that would contribute for the most conducive conversation however, but they were nothing if not persistent. “I think we actually met at Kaden’s birthday party, very briefly though, you were doing shots with the rest of the gang from the station…?” it was a tenuous link and Winston had drunk a lot that evening, their memory might not be what it once was of that evening. “I have some files and samples for Cece and Dr Kavanagh.” They shifted their load of files and samples to both hands and gestured at it with their chin to indicate that they actually had something with them, as if that weren’t obvious given the haphazard state it was in. “I think it’s stuff that came in a bit later today and they wanted them to have them for whenever they were able to work their way through them.” Normally they just let themselves into the offices and dropped them there, but this was a nice change of pace. Simon blinked stupidly for a moment; they met at Kaden’s party? He was sure Winston wasn’t lying but he had met so many people that night and most of them WERE drunk enough that the faces and smells blurred together. He must’ve accidentally prioritized his memories of that awkward night incorrectly. “Ah, sorry,” He apologised with a nervous chuckle. “I totally forgot about… well, most of what happened that night.” He glanced down at the papers as Winston explained their reason for being there. “Well, that’s kind of you,” He replied, his smile going from nervous to gentle. “Could you use my assistance in any way?” He asked. “I can hold a door open or something.”

“Don’t worry, I had a lot to drink too, most of that night is a blur, not that that is a bad thing, I am not the biggest fan of mimes if I’m being truthful.” Winston hated the town’s weird obsession and the fact that there was obviously some supernatural involvement at foot. Raising an eyebrow, Winston smiled gratefully at Simon. “Thanks that would actually be really helpful, trying to open doors with the toes of my converse is harder than it looks.” They wiggled the end of their left foot as if to illustrate. “I’ve got to go to Cece’s office first, most of this stuff is for her but I’ll double check there’s nothing for Dr Kavanagh.” Winston headed off, they knew that Simon must know the way too and there was no point waiting. Indeed, Simon had become very familiar with the layout of the morgue over the past couple weeks, making sure to absorb every detail he could and cleaning locations he didn’t think he would have had to. He followed Winston as the latter led the way to Bishop’s office after setting his mop aside, trying to remember when he specifically met Winston at the party but getting caught up with the ‘mime’ comment. “I’m not, either,” He agreed. “Before I came here, I had a respect for the art itself but the mimes here are just… I don’t know but there’s something off about them.” He tried to explain, though not very well. “Either way, that party was a little awkward. I don’t think Kaden liked it.” He recalled both Kaden’s evident displeasure and Regan’s comments that seemed to support his line of thought.

“Honestly, before now I never really gave mimes much thought. They weren’t really anything I ever particularly had cause to consider until now.” Winston wasn’t pleased with their continued exposure to the mimes either. “But yeah, that party was not my favourite thing that I’ve ever been to and I do not think that I would ever bother going back. It wasn’t exactly something that I enjoyed.” They had never thought that anyone would be able to make mimes behave in that way. Heading down the hallway, Winston turned and nodded towards Cece’s office. “If you wouldn’t mind doing the honours,” they said with a smile, “then hopefully we can get out of here.” The small talk benefited them and it didn’t take long at all for the duo to reach Cece’s office wherein Simon gave a small nod and turned the knob, pulling it open and holding it much like a guard, playfully stiff and straight-backed. “After you, my good person.” He said in a much more exaggeratedly British accent. “I shall remain here until your quest is complete.” He wasn’t even sure why he was being so cordial - maybe he was just in a good mood or he felt more comfortable in the morgue given his past profession. It helped that it was just him and Winston. Maybe the moon had something to do with it. Whatever the reason, he felt as though he should’ve apologised to the other for his goofiness but… naaah. 

Slipping into the office, Winston flashed Simon a bright smile and set a large portion of the files down onto Cece’s desk, quickly sifting through them, they rearranged everything neatly and scribbled a quick note for when she returned to work the next day. “I’ve just got to put these in Doctor Kavanagh’s office and we should be good to go,” Winston slipped away for a moment, placing the few files that the coroner would need for the next’s days work on her desk in a neat pile with a much neater note. They were just about convinced that they were done for the day and were headed out into the hall when they spotted it. Black and white stripes, a dark beret, even the mime’s glasses had stripes and worst of all it looked exactly like Winston. “Oh, fuck.” They practically shouted the phrase, their surprise so great, but the mime didn’t say a word, turning silently and making eye contact with Winston and grinning the widest smile it possibly could. Simon was patient though his gaze followed his temporary companion as the latter set the papers down on their respective desks. This was a nice, easy-- Then he heard Winston curse and he peered out from around the door he was holding open and before him was… Winston. But it wasn’t. It LOOKED like Winston but… mime-fied. How did it get in? How had he not heard it? And why was it smiling? “Uhhhh Winston?” He asked, confusion evident in his soft tone. “Whhho is that?” He released his grip on the door, letting it swing shut as he edged closer to the intern, keeping his eyes on whatever that was on the other side of the hall.

Simon was between Winston and this mime. That meant that if the mime stayed true to form then it was possible that it would probably try and kill Simon before doing the same thing to Winston. “I don’t actually know who or what that thing is, all I can tell you is that it is a murderous mime clone of me and it seems fairly hell bent on trying to kill me.” They looked from the mime to Simon and then back to the mime who seemed to be miming the sharpening of a knife? Weird. Winston hated every second of this. “Either way, they’re not a nice mime, so if you could get away from it just a little quicker this would be great.” Please don’t use magic until Simon was safely with Winston. Please don’t use magic. How quickly the environment could shift from casual to tense as Simon indeed found himself between Winston the friendly intern and Winston the intimidating mime and he wasn’t sure he liked this turn of events. This was bad; intuition told him that if this mime was anything like the ones he had encountered already, it probably had whatever was pumping through Winston’s blood, whether human or something else. “Don’t gotta tell me twice, kid,” the older man quickened his pace as he found himself backing up but it didn’t seem to be quite fast enough as the mime suddenly made a motion that looked like a lunge and swung an arm like pitching a ball and a ball it was - a ball of FIRE that quickly seemed to spiral like a curved baseball before smacking into the wall next to Simon. The latter yelped instinctively and jumped like a cat seeing a cucumber and like the coward he was, scrambled around and subsequently behind Winston. “You guys know magic?” He asked, having this be the first time the possibility was presented to him in his reality.

They used magic. Of course mime Winston had decided that now was the time to show their hand. At least this time Winston was ready for the fireball that they hurled in Winston’s new friends direction. They took a breath as they saw the inferno flicker to life in their mime copies fingers, the bright orange flames licking it’s fingers before it wound it’s arm back and hurled it through the still air of the morgue. Winston accessed the chaos, the energy, the writhing void in their stomach that they felt when they reached for magic. The energy surged through them as they forced a small barrier in front of Winston. The fireball ricocheted off into the wall, leaving a dark scorch mark on the white paint. “Yeah, I don’t exactly go around telling people,” Winston replied as they felt the energy from their exertion drain from their body, but they were ready for that, they’d come prepared. They literally didn’t have the stamina to take themselves but neither did their mime, so they had come prepared. “Listen, I can’t beat this on my own, can you help me?” they stepped forward and used the barrier to bat another ball of fire away. It took a few seconds but Simon always had the ability to act and react quickly and he glanced around for a weapon. His first thought was his handy-dandy mop buuut that was on the other side of the hall so he glanced at his hands, the hands that turned into sharp claws when he was desperately afraid or-- well, now that he thought about it, he hadn’t known them to appear otherwise yet so maybe that was the only emotion that called them. He’d have said he was scared at that moment but somehow, knowing that Winston could perform magic and he was proficient at running away since he knew the entire layout of the morgue, he supposed he wasn’t that scared. It might’ve also had to do with the time of lunar cycle… He shook his head. “Yeah of course, what do you need me to do?” He asked, ready to do whatever was asked of him.

As the mime kept eye contact with Winston and seemed to be preparing another explosion of magic that would go in their direction, Winston scrabbled through their backpack. For months they had been working on this. Pulling out a small metallic disk, it was maybe five inches wide with a slight ridge which had wires tightly wrapped around it. The theory behind it, a careful blend of technology, alchemy and enchanting. This had been their project for months now. They had designed it from scratch, hand engraved the various runes, spent hours enchanting everything and they’d even designed the power source by hand. It was ingenious really, a small gyroscopic system that had self maintaining motion which powered itself. Tossing the disk to Simon, Winston heard it clatter to the floor but they weren’t worried, they’d designed it to take some serious hits. “Press the button please and then maybe stand back.” Winston watched as the mime allowed a wave of magical force to erupt in Winston’s direction but they used their magic to quell it, feeling sweat pour down their face as they exerted their effort here. Tried as Simon might’ve to catch the disc, he fumbled with it last second and winced as it hit the floor. He hastily swiped it up as though he did that on purpose and examined it curiously as Winston described what to do with it; he was thankful for the instruction ‘cuz he ain’t never seen a frisbee like that before. It… wasn’t a frisbee, his wires were just crossing inappropriately again. Probably because he was lowkey worried about this fight and how much of a pain it would be to clean up. “Button, got it.” He announced and carefully but firmly pressed the button with a spidery finger. Speaking of spiders, when he pressed the button, out started to unwind four spider-like mechanical limbs from the disk and he mixed dropping and placing it to the ground, indeed taking a step back as the spider-disc fell to the floor and started to zip forward. “Whoa, what’s that do?” He found himself asking as the little mechanical creature advanced to the mime.

Hearing the whir that denoted the small bot turning on, Winston couldn’t help but feel a thrill that they had actually started and appeared to be working for the most part. It was weird, Winston could almost feel it as it scuttled along the tiled floors of the morgue. It zipped away from Simon. “Thanks dude,” Winston said as the mime seemed to completely miss Winston and pulled back another fire ball hurling it at Winston violently. They barely managed to get a shield up in the way, and when they did the fire crushed through it forcefully, it enveloped Winston and knocked them back gasping for air, they lay there, practically on top of Simon’s feet, hoping and praying that they would have done their job well enough. “Ugh, I really am not good at this magic shit.” They grunted as they tried to get back up, but collapsed under their own exhaustion. Simon instinctively crouched over Winston as the latter fell at his feet as if he could protect them from any further damage. He would’ve made a light, sarcastic comment about how a magician wasn’t very good at magic but he was certainly not one to talk in an ‘I can do magic’ sense OR an ‘I can control my own stuff’ sense so he settled with a “Hey, you did a great job!” Unfortunately for either of them, the mime wasn’t ready to give up despite how tired it was becoming and it seemed to forgo using magic - if it was anything like Winston, it was probably close to its limit on magic, too - and decided to pull out a… knife. Okay, old fashioned but okay and it started to rush the two. Simon noted where the spider was and decided to clash with the mime head-on, only just now feeling his nails elongate slightly as he found himself in actual danger this time. He was scared but more than that - he was fired up, actually feeling like he might’ve been helping someone else this time. The two rammed into each other and though Simon twisted his torso around at the last second to avoid the first stab wound, the mime swung broadly and sliced into his arm. The smell of blood was quick to find Simon and that just seemed to make him feel… stronger. It was hard to explain. Sharp claws reacted by grabbing and sinking into the mime’s arm that held the knife, extending his arm as far out as it would go to create space. His other hand on the mime’s parallel shoulder to keep them from getting too close to each other, he noticed that the mime’s other hand was drawing back for what he presumed was one more magic attack. “Nnn dammit,” He cursed.

Delirious with exhaustion, Winston swallowed back a mouthful of blood that had filled their mouth when they hit the floor of the morgue. They watched as Simon rushed to protect them. They would’ve uttered some complaint, some reason for Simon to stay out of it so that someone else didn’t get hurt trying to help Winston, but they were too slow and they were grappling. Winston saw the knife flash, they saw magic gathering in their own hand, although it was the gloved hand of a mime. Swallowing once more, they used the last of their magic to drive the spider onwards. It scuttled up the wall, pausing in wait for Simon and mime-Winston to come close enough and then as the mime prepared to hurl more magic Simon’s way. The spider detached from the wall, it’s four wire legs proving that it wasn’t really a spider, but the legs enveloped the chest of the mime. It did its job, positioning itself on Mime-Winston’s back, placing the contact pad over where the heart was and emitting a powerful electric pulse. Fortunately it wasn’t touching Simon otherwise Winston would’ve probably killed their new janitor friend. Mime Winston looked shocked, silently raised a hand to their lips before dissolving into a black and white cloud of smoke. Winston watched the bot clatter to the ground, wire legs without any power as it smoked there and Winston did their best not to pass the fuck out. One moment, Simon was in a locked position with the mime, ready to take a fireball to the face and the next, it all but disappeared, dissolved into a cloud of black and white. Simon fell forward and caught himself lightly as the spider clacked onto the floor after shocking the hell out of the mime. The older man let out a heavy exhale but didn’t let himself remain there longer than a few seconds before he turned and scrabbled over to where he’d left Winston. “Hey hey hey,” He said with an even tone, his breathing betraying his otherwise mild temperament. Without really thinking, he placed his hands under Winston’s back and the knees of their legs respectively and picked them up gently. “You alright? Stay with me, I’ll take you to the doctor, okay?” He asked, turning on a heel and stooping just long enough to swipe up the little machine in a fluid motion as he walked with a purpose in his stride. “You did really good,” He said with a smile. “That little spider is incredible. YOU were incredible.”

[liquidsmccth]

                                       only thorns left on this rose

dorothea   arnault, mythical   songstress, FEMME   FATALE   ( or   according   to   brian   david   gilbert, comrade. )                           -- literal definition   of   what   if   you   were   on   the   battle   field   and   suddenly   britney   spears   appears   and   burns   you   alive   with    a     fireball    ?

hi & welcome 2 the intro! i’m going to try and keep things short n simple bc i understand none of you guys know much about horny chess ! ( or more commonly referred to as fire emblem! ) & thank u 2 izzy 4 proof reading this 4 me !!

( park soo young. 24. she/her. ) everything’s fine, DOROTHEA ARNAULT, you’re in the good place! do you remember your last days in FIRE EMBLEM? but don’t worry, your ( slightly wilted roses, calloused fingers, scattered music sheets, cracks in a porcelain mask  ) will fit perfectly with the rest of the good place, so long as you commit to the FEMME FATALE despite your tendency to commit to ( holding everyone at an emotional distance ) that the architect of the good place said you were. it’ll just be like a fun acting exercise! just play along and everything will continue to be fun. 

here is some basic information about where from dorothea’s from before we get into the intro !

dorothea is from a land called fodlan -- a land compromised of three ruling territories, that all share one religion called the church of seiros.

in this land, those descended from ten warriors that saved the land with seiros carry something called crests which give people super powers basically -- these are the noble families, and as time has gone on, crests have become more rare, and even more value placed on them.

everything here is an aristocracy and your merit is based on your worth and nothing else.

the church runs a military academy where the first half of the game takes place called garreg mach for some reason.

anyway that’s the basic info to the game without going lore heavy or any spoilers -- because uhhhh it's a good game if anyone wants to experience it !!! & anyway moving on.

in your first breath you have signed your mothers death sentence. a bastard child born for one reason, to save this dying noble family you were born to serve. but your father calls you as he called your mother, useless. you didn’t bear the crest he had committed adultery for.

& so, the noble family sends away another maid -- your mother, to the streets of enbarr. just in time for another plague to ravage the land. you do not know your mother, sometimes a soft voice lulled you to sleep but was that a force of maternal love or the hallucinations set about from starvation ?

an orphan. street rat. filth. you grew up dodging shoes and curses, begging for scraps -- of love, attention, and food. dorothea made most of her measly livelihood through singing. she was blessed with the songbirds voice, but the filth that stained her face and matted her hair prevented from reaching her peak.

eventually --  one lucky day at the ripe old age of six,    the primadonna of the local opera house -- the mittelfrank opera company, stumbled across the pauper. enchanted by the diamond in the rough, manuela cassagranda took dorothea in as an almost surrogate daughter.

& now this is a story all about how my life got flipped upside down

in a span of three years, the orphan became the mythical songstress -- the most sought after young girl in the adrestian empire. she was adored, and as she grew older, lusted after. the target of kidnappings, assassinations, marriage proposals and down right sleazes -- dorothea recognised the same nobles fawning over her as the same people who had kicked her in the face when she needed help.

they didn’t care about her. they cared about her beauty & voice they were bees attracted to a flower in full bloom. she was a commodity, a ticking time bomb, and soon -- she knew -- they would no longer fawn over her. there would be a new mythical songstress a new apple of everyones eye. with age, she thought, she would not grow more beautiful. but rot, wilt, as her summer of life would soon turn to autumn, then winter.

her dislike of the upper class,    & most men,  came when her own father expressed his adoration for her -- completely unaware that this pride and lust was towards his own scorned bastard.

it soon became apparent to dorothea, that if she didn’t want to meet the same fate as her mother, another commoner thrown out when passed their expiration date, she must marry well & focus on nothing but.

when manuela left the opera company to become a professor at garreg mach, dorothea followed suit by currying favour (& sleeping with) several nobles to pay for the outlandish tuition fee. She knew very well that the year she would enrol would place her in the same grade as the three future leaders of the three kingdoms.

she was a flirtatious force to be reckoned with at the academy, dating frivolously and constantly, trying to find one noble who would be willing to “bum it with a commoner.” people loved her; and quite equally, some hated her. the gossip and rumours causing dorothea to develop an extremely poor self-image, soon becoming reliant on everyone else to fawn over her to establish her value.  

before graduation, war breaks out as their class president declares the church to be heresy. dorothea sides with edelgard, wanting to tear down the current system because yes she is a comrade and fuck the bougouirse am i right? this doesn’t deter from the fact she hates war & fighting, often fearing for the life of the average citizens lost in the senseless violence.

the war wages for six years before it’s conclusion,    dorothea dies in the final battle trying to save a group of paupers from being crushed in the burning city.

  & then she woke up here -- and everything is fine ! she’s told ! told that she was a good person. she wanted to believe that, but she doubted, that with the blood on her hands and the thorns of herself, that she could be good -- and then the her that had died ... didn’t seem like it was her, and she realises, she was right. she most certainly wasn’t good. & that the goddess, the one she never believed in, was going to punish her for her sacriliege.

so now she’s here ! vibing ! playing her guitar, flirting w every girl but excited at the concept of a soulmate ! some facts about how she’s doing !

 - she’ll probably go by thea more than dorothea - she’s probably proposed many community theatre projects to break the ice with everyone! - if you’ve met her once, she’s already given u a cute little nickname, a pet name, ^-^ - out here being eternally gay, dumb and sexyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy - idk how anyone is doing the whole connections or plotting things but i would love 2 plot w everyoe

part 2:

What was your character’s last canon memory/where you’re playing your character from?

In terms of storyline, Dorothea is pulled from a crimson flower route in which she sides with Byleth and Edelgard in overthrowing the church. Her last canon memory would be participating in the final battle against the mad dragon, the immaculate one, in the burning wreckage of the burning city of fhirdiad.

How did your character “die”? (they don’t have to be dead in canon, so if they’re not, this would be entirely up to you)

In dorothea’s memory, she died during the battle – specifically, trying to save a group of orphans trapped in the burning city after the fighting was mostly over and the battle one – separated from the rest of the army, there was no one to come to her aid as the building collapsed on her, she died, glad that she managed to at least save the children amongst the bloodshed.

What are 3 mundane things the architects of the Neighborhood can do to torture your character?

surround her with extravagant displays of money & wealth that are frivolent and hinder more than benefit people,    no quiet space from other people – always being interrupted every second of personal thought,  & the constant whispering behind her back that she can never find out what is being said about her but just assumes the worst anyways.

Does your character think they belong at the Good Place?

Dorothea would like to think that she was a good person in life, that the people she stepped on to get ahead deserved what they had coming due to how they sexualised and idolised her – but she hates herself, she thinks that due to her participation in war she could never atone for that sin, no matter how reluctant she was.

:)

[suckasstakenames]

Craig and Those Guys Week: Day 1 - The Beach 🏖

“You definitely brought the towels didn’t you Craig?”

“Yes Tweek, for the third time, you saw me put them into the bag.”

Five teenage boys cross the parking lot and make their way towards the beach. It was the weekend and this particular beach was quite the tourist spot, but it was one of the only days of the week in which all of the boys were free. They’d assigned this trip as their monthly event; an event that wasn’t just meeting up at the cafe or hanging out at somebody’s house.

Leading the group was a tall, slender boy. The tallest of the group. This was Craig. His beach attire was pretty basic; he donned navy blue swimming trunks and black sandals. He wore a beige bucket hat over his jet black hair, and covered his blue eyes with blacked out sunglasses. He was carrying a big beach bag, filled with all the essentials. Craig was their ring leader, the centre of the group. Whenever anyone else would talk about their group it would be referred to as his gang.

Trailing closely behind him was a noticeably skinnier boy; Craig’s boyfriend, Tweek. He too wore a bucket hat, white this time, and covered his bony torso with a vest of the same colour. He had untamed wild blonde hair, shooting out from underneath the hat in all different directions. His hand was fiddling with the bottom of his khaki swimming trunks, clearly on edge. His eyes were bagged, but he wasn’t a bad looking guy overall. Tweek’s anxiety around large groups of people meant that he was practically clinging to Craig for dear life.

Not far behind was a more boisterous boy, rambling about his friends’ sense of fashion. Clyde was a little chubby in build, but wasn’t afraid to flaunt it. He wore an open red shirt with a palm tree design on it, and on the bottom half…a pair of black speedos. He even accessorised with some aviators and a shark tooth necklace. He was clearly the most enthusiastic of the group; flicking his chocolate coloured hair in the wind whenever he sensed a female within range.

Next to him was Token, who didn’t try as hard on the fashion side, but still managed to pull off a pair of violet trunks and gold-rimmed sunglasses. He was assigned the role of carrying the parasol. His body was probably the most toned out of the group, but he was cool about it, and wanted to come across as casual as possible to his peers. But that was slightly difficult when you’re the son of a millionaire…and it definitely showed.

The last boy was a brunette, using his crutches to keep up a steady pace with his friends. His ochre coloured trunks were accompanied with a brown baseball cap and a grey t-shirt. This was Jimmy, who had a form of cerebral palsy, yet was one of the funniest guys in their town. He was wearing trainers and had no intention of entering the water at all, simply content with chilling out with his best friends.

The boys eventually reach the beach, finding a spot nearer the back that wasn’t too close to everyone else for Tweek’s sake. Token forcefully stuck the parasol into the sand and opened it, Tweek immediately running underneath. With the palest skin out of them all, he’d coated himself in 3 layers of sunscreen before coming out for the day.

Craig sets down the beach bag, whipping out a pile of folded towels, leaving a couple spare in the bag. “Take your pick.”

Tweek is the first to grab one; a simple striped design.

Clyde was next, opting for the one with the slogan ‘Cool story bro’ on it.

Token passed one to Jimmy that had fruit decorating it, and then took a basic blue one for himself.

Craig was left with the towel with an adorable looking cartoon shark on it, one of which used to belong to his younger sister Tricia. He didn’t seem at all bothered and laid it out next to Tweek’s towel.

“Alright so who’s coming for a splash in a little while?” Clyde enthusiastically asks.

“FUCK no. I’m not gonna be present while you awkwardly try to pick up chicks by the water.” Craig protests.

“Oh Craig,” Clyde tuts, “You should be more supportive of me!”

“Yeah well, I’m not supportive of those speedos.”

Token chuckles, “Again with the speedos…you really aren’t a fan are you?”

“Dude, look at him. He looks like a middle aged dad who flirts with teenagers.”

Clyde pouts, “HEY…at least I’m not flexing a damn fisherman hat!”

“Nghh, not cool Clyde! Don’t drag me into this too!!” Tweek contributes, awkwardly tugging on his hat.

“Firstly, it’s called a bucket hat. Secondly, fuck you. It keeps us cool.” says Craig.

“Appearance vs p-p-practicality. A truly difficult decision f-for sure.” Jimmy jokes.

“Who cares about how good you look when you’re frying to death?!” says Tweek.

“Chill out Tweek, we’re not frying! We’re just sun-kissed.“ Clyde teases. Token pushes him playfully, shaking his head and smiling.

Jimmy looks out over the crowd of people, stopping when he sees someone he recognises. An auburn-haired boy of their age was sat reading a book next to his mother, who was watching his father and younger brother throw a ball back and forth to each other.

“H-hey, isn’t that K-K-Kyle Broflovski and his f-family over there?”

Token squints his eyes in the same direction, “…oh shit, it is! Shall we go say hi?”

“What?! I’m not going all the way over there!!” Tweek protests.

Craig lies back on his towel. “If Ike sees Clyde he’ll just annoy him with pirate songs again.”

“I don’t need reminding of that you guys!!” Clyde whines.

“Kyle looks pretty bored…” says Token.

“Damn…and S-S-Sheila is looking pretty…th-th-th-thick.” Jimmy stutters, watching as Sheila rubbed herself with sunscreen.

“Gross Jimmy, put your boner away.” says Craig.

“Relax b-buddy! Only her m-mother could love t-that face.” he jests.

Token gets up, “I’m gonna go say hi, Craig come with!”

“Ugh fine but we’re not staying long.” Craig groans.

“Bring us back ice cream will ya!” Clyde declares, pointing at the ice cream van nearby.

“Anything for you, princess.” Token jokes, before helping Craig up by the hand and wandering off towards Kyle.

~

They quickly return with 5 ice cream cones, one with toffee sauce since Tweek likes toffee.

Obviously, Clyde had something to say about this. “Uhhhh, where’s my toffee sauce??”

“Go and get some from the van if you want it, you lazy twat.” Craig says, handing the cone to Tweek. Tweek smiles warmly up at him before thanking him. Clyde takes his cone from Token, pulls a sour face and sticks his tongue out at Craig before heading towards the van.

After not even 2 minutes of receiving his ice cream, Tweek has a sudden large twitch and accidentally drops the cone onto his leg. Clyde bursts out with laughter, while Craig grabs a spare towel from the beach bag and helps him to clean up.

“I will literally pay you half of my w-w-wage if you lick some of that.” Jimmy jests.

“WHAT?! Are you nuts?!” Tweek yells.

“That’s a comment I’d expect from Clyde, not you Jimmy.” Craig retorts. “Fuck off.”

“What if it was Token’s wage?” Clyde suggests.

“Not even for Token’s wage.” says Craig.

“You guys, my wage isn’t that much different than yours!” Token objects. He’s not wrong; he only earns about 3 or 4 more dollars than the rest of them. However he serves wealthier customers and the tips tend to be double, even triple the average waiter gets.

~

Once Craig finishes cleaning up a very embarrassed Tweek, and returns to the van to buy him a replacement ice cream, the five of them lie on their respective towels and sunbathe quietly in each others company. So quiet in fact, that none of them realise until 20 minutes later that Clyde had fallen fast asleep. Only when he suddenly lets out a loud snore, waking himself up in the process, does he attract the other’s attention.

“Jesus Clyde, scared the shit out of me.” Craig snaps.

“The heat must’ve knocked me out…” says Clyde. “I need to cool down…time for a swim!”

Almost instantly, as if he hadn’t just woken up, Clyde immediately springs to his feet and flings his shirt off. “Who’s coming??”

“I will. The water looks fresh.” Token gets up a little slower, taking off his shades and placing them on his towel.

“Tweek?”

“Ngh, maybe later…” Tweek replies. And by ‘maybe later’, he meant ‘probably not at all’.

“No worries bud.” Clyde reassures. “Jimmy? Oh yeah Jimmy said he wasn’t swimming today…Craig?”

The two standing look over to Craig, who’s very clearly pretending he didn’t hear them. Clyde bends over him, casting a shadow over his face.

“Craig? Yoohooooo?”

“What?”

“Are you coming swimming with us?” Token asks.

“Nah.”

Token rolls his eyes, exchanging a disappointed look with Clyde, before leaning in and whispering something into his ear. Clyde grows a mischievous grin and looks over at Craig, who is completely oblivious.

Craig is a slim guy and relatively lightweight, so it wasn’t a problem for Clyde and Token to grab him by the legs and arms and lift him up abruptly.

“Wh-? What the fuck are you doing?!”

“Taking you for a dip.” Clyde replies nonchalantly.

“I hate you both so much, fucking put me down!”

Craig wriggles a little in protest, his hat falling off in the process, but it’s not long before he gives in and simply lets the other two carry him over to the water.

Tweek and Jimmy laugh as they watch them go.

“Ngh…am I an unsupportive boyfriend if I just sit back and let them pick on him like that?” Tweek jokes.

“It makes a ch-change from Craig p-p-picking on everyone else, I suppose.” Jimmy shrugs.

They watch on as Clyde and Token count down from 3, and on zero, Craig is slam dunked into the water. He resurfaces flicking his hair and immediately targets Clyde by jumping onto his shoulders and sending him underneath the water. The antics continue as Tweek smiles from afar, happy and tranquil. Seeing his boyfriend and his friends messing around and having fun made him feel so relaxed and carefree, and distracted him from any worries he may have.

He sighs with contentment. At least he didn’t have to worry about being alone. His friends were always there for each other and supported each other an equal amount. And days like this just proved that the five of them were closer than ever.

—

[the-fiction-witch]

Girly

MOVIE: MAZE RUNNER

COUPLE NEWT X READER

RATING: CUTE + FUNNY + FLIRTY

I shudder, my body as cold as ice. I shot up feeling the dark rusted metal around me I was soaking wet, just getting my breath back.

There where boxes, everywhere full of all sorts of things, they where piled higher then me and only absent where I sat

"Hello? Someone? Somebody's help!" I yelled and just as I did I heard a alarm and this place moved the floor itself moving upward occasional flashing lights illuminating things for milliseconds before being to far to see I looked and noticed a celling come up faster and faster and faster if we didn't slow it was going to hit-

CRASH!

And Everything went dark.

"What is it?" A voice asks

"Newt what do you see?" Another asked

"It's a girl..." Another voice answered

"A girl?" The first voice asked sounding angry

"You sure newt?" Another voice chimed in

"I think... The hair, the build, the... Tits, it sure as bloody hell looks like a girl" the voice answered

"Why would they send up a girl?" Another asked

"get her out!" A voice of authority ordered I felt hands on me as I was carefully lifted and set down on something it was comfy and soft like a blanket almost "what the hell is this? A girl? What is she doing here?"

"Who knows... Maybe there being nice? Maybe we might get some variation in this place"

"A girl is dangerous, we need these boys focused now with some girl walking around, god knows what it will be like"

"I don't know Alby...maybe it will be okay"

"Okay? Newt! Look at them! It's a mad house and she hasn't even woken up yet!" He said "you deal with her I've got work to do"

It was quite for a while before I heard that voice again

"Hey? Uhh girly? You should really wake up" he smiled as I felt a finger on my face gently caressing my skin to try to gently wake me but I tried to push the finger away but In my just woken up, terror I bent it back away from me "AAAAAAHHH! Bloody hell!" He screamed  he was a young boy or so he looked with fluffy blonde hair caked with dirt a terrible tattered white hoodie and brown pants holding his hand in pain as many others rushed over, I was in a hammock under some wooden structure, outside was green and grey what exactly I couldn't tell

"What's wrong newt?" One boy asked he must have spoke earlier as I recognise the voice trying to look at this boys hand

"Shuck! I think she broke my finger!" The boy complained almost crying

"Ohh what where you doing to her?" Another asked he had very cared for hair and tones arms

"I was just trying to wake her!" The boy complained

"Let me look!" The other boy complained forcing this blonde boys hand away "shucking hell she did break newts finger" he laughs

"She did what!" The voice that had been talking with this blonde boy yelled "take newt to the med jack's take her to the pit, carefully!" He yelled and those boys got hold of me and carried me of somewhere else even if I was kicking and screaming the whole way.

It had been days I had been in here sometimes boys would drop me off a plate off food and some drink but then run off Again, I was so confused where I was what was going on, I did feel bad for that poor blond boy, I believe from what I overheard and from the talking I could pick in here his name was newt and I had defiantly broke his finger, I did feel bad I didn't mean to, I just didn't want him to touch me I didn't mean to hurt him he seemed nice and all. When that very athorative boy came sitting with me I think this was alby,

"If we let you out you have to swear on your life your not doing something like that again" he warned and I nodded so he let me out "welcome to the glade, girl" he says as I got my footing and he walked off this place was beautiful, a nice green glade with houses and bonfires even a forest but it was surrounded in all sides by these looming grey walls I didn't really know what to do or where to go so I wondered around a while without much of a purpose till I thought of something to do, go and see that poor boy and apologize I wondered around for a while and spotted his mess of hair as he sat on a bench trying to see but often pricking his fingers I went over to the table and smiled and he saw me and panicked trying to move away

"What- what do you want?" He asked protecting his bandaged hand I didn't know what to say really so I sat across from him taking the needle and the clothing finishing up sewing it for him "you want to help?" He asked and I nod "ohh uhh here you do this half" he says handing me half of the little like he had as he for another needle and thread "I uhh I am sorry, I shouldn't have touched you while you where asleep," he explained and I smiled at him making him blush a little "you uhh you don't talk much do you girly?" He asked and I giggled shaking my head "it's alright, I was like that, I didn't speak to anyone for weeks when I first came up... You'll find someone you'll talk to" he shrugged just as I finished up what he gave me "your much better at this then I am" he blushed I giggled a little and moved my hand gently sliding my hand Into his Intertwining our fingers he blushed more hardly looking at me mostly looking at our hands

"I'm sorry newt" I smiled "for breaking your finger"

"Uhhh that's okay, don't worry about it." He blushed "apology accepted girly" he smiled "hey uhh how about I give you a tour of the glade? So you can learn your way around" he offers and i nodded so we finished up and got up I giggled gently taking his hand again and he held my hand tightly too

"So I don't get lost" I blushed

"Okay girly" he blushed starting to lead me around the glade

I giggled humming my little tune as I wondered out towards the deadheads

"Your late" he says

"I had to deal with zart" I sighed as I spotted newt sat on a blanket waiting for me

"Was he bothering again?" He asks and i nod sitting down beside him "alright I'll have a word" he says "hello girly" he smiled taking my hand

"Hi newt, how was your check up?" I ask

"Ohh Clint said a few more weeks then my fingers all better" he smiled "bacon?" He asks and I nodded having some

"Cookie?" I offer

"Aww thank you girly, you didn't have to make me cookies" he blushed

"I like to" I smile

"Your too see to me you really are" he smiled

"I like to, I'm still working in being sorry for your finger" I smiled

"Girly, you don't have to be sorry for that anymore, it's alright I forgave you months ago" he says squeezing my hand

"Did the boys give you any trouble today?" I ask

"Uhh...Alby did, he wanted to know where I was going with all this stuff" he says

"And you said?" I ask

"I said I was going to the forest to have dinner on my own" he shrugged "he seemed happy with that" he smiled "Uhhh look love, there was actually something I wanted to talk to you about today" he says

"Ohh what?" I asked

"I was wondering as...well we spend so much time together and, you've been holding my hand since you got here that maybe you... Wanted to, be my girlfriend?" He asked

"I assumed I already was" I giggled

"Ohh? Well then, in that case I have something else to ask girly" he blushed

"What newt?" I laughed

"Could I kiss you?" He asks

"Aww newt of course you can" I giggled

"You mean it?" He asks

"Of course" I smiled he blushed hard looking at the floor a little holding my hand a little tighter he glanced to my lips and fixed a bit of hair out my face as he leaned closer, the leaned closer to smiling sweetly at him before he jumped forward pressing our lips together his lips where soft slightly cracked where he bites them sometimes I closed my eyes focusing on his sweet little movements that I happily returned I noticed his sweet scent, like grass, mud, tea and mint... And I could clearly smell the soap from teh showers he must have had a shower before we came out here till he pulled away and got his breath as I don't think he was breathing thought that "so?" I ask Carefully

"So..." He blushed messing with his hair

"That was nice" I smiled nuzzling into his neck

,"You liked it?" He asks and I giggled

"Of course I did newt" i laughed "did you-" I began

"Of course I liked it, well... I loved it actually" he blushed "so uhh... Could I kiss you again?"

"Newt, you can kiss me whenever you like, as much as you like" i laughed nuzzling closer to his neck giving his skin there s little kiss making him jump a little

"I can?" He asks

"Of course you can" I smiled "so long as I get to kiss you all I want to?"

"Definitely girly" he smiled giving my lips a quick peck then another and another started to kiss me deeper again his hand wrapped around my waist the other still holding mine

"Newt! Newt where are you!" A voice yelled it sounded like Alby so I gave him another kiss and hid myself away in the tree's and brushes

"Hey Alby, something up?" He asked

"We can't find the girl, have you seen her?"

"Not since lunch Alby"

"You sure about that newt?"

"Yeah I think so"

"Alright" Alby said leaving the woods so I came out of my hidding spot

"That was close, we'll have to start getting more sneaky" he smiled holding my hands "we'd be in so much trouble if he found us out here together, let alone if he found us kissing"

"Or worse" I giggled nuzzling into his chest as his shoulder was to high now we where stood up

"I don't think there's anything worse girly" he says

"Uhhhh.... Newt what about you know... Other stuff" I smirk and he looked down at me very puzzled so I moved my hips against his feeling that he already had a semi awww that's adorable little newtie getting half hard from our kisses

"Ooohh! That stuff!" He said his voice cracking as he did

"Did you not want to?" I ask

"Are you bloody joking girly, I've been locked up in a maze of only boys for two years of course I want to!" He says "I'd love to" he says making me giggle "but...how? Where? I mean, it's not like the box gives us condom's or anything like that" he says "and I mean where, we can't in the glade for obvious reasons, albys found our snuggle spot out here, and if we did in my hammock the whole glade would see us"

"You've thought alot about this haven't you newt" I laughed

"Well... I Uhhh," he stuttered blushing hard

"Relax newt I know a place" I smiled kissing his cheek "tomorrow night? Meet here and I'll take you" I giggled

"Uhhh okay" he blushed "see you tomorrow girly" he smiled

"Newt you'll see me once we leave the woods" I Laughed

"I know but I can't kiss you or cuddle you or hold you hand, I have to pretend you're not my girlfriend" he explained

"Come on newt before Alby comes looking for us again" I smiled giving him a kiss before went back to the glade

I turned over again, I couldn't sleep, not sure why I just couldn't as I turned I noticed the familiar blonde boy so I smiled hopping out my Hammock and gently going over to his giving him a poke

"Ughh what?" He complained sleepily

"It's me" I smiled "I can't sleep, can I sleep with you?" I whispered

"Alright, just be out before Alby wakes up" he says moving his covers a little so I climbed in beside him and nuzzled close.to his warm soft body as he tucked the covers around me I giggled giving his nose a little kiss and he smiled and kissed my lips "come on legs get some sleep" he says wrapping his arms around me tightly as we gently fell asleep.

P2?

[bedbellyandbeyond]

Gainer, Part 1

(Sort of a One Shot Story Post 1/3)

“Alright, guys. It’s week three of my gain train and I have gained…” Jeffrey stepped off the scale, opened his eyes, and sighed. “…Point…five pounds. Well. That’s progress! I’m sure…I’m sure my body just needs to get used to this new gaining thing. I’ll update you next week. Subscribe to HEFFrey! Later!” He turned off the camera and groaned. Another week of failure. Any kind of gain would’ve been nice. Muscle gain. Fat gain. Subscriber gain, even. He just didn’t know what he was doing wrong. The first week he’d tried stuffing himself silly. Second week was gainer shakes and reps. Third week was water chugging to try for even water weight. But everything just went straight through him. He had been cursed with this scrawny twink body when all he wanted was to be a big bellied bear. His aunt had said their family was blessed with a godly metabolism but he always felt like it was more than that. He couldn’t gain a pound even when he tried hard. He felt doomed to being a hundred and twelve pounds soaking wet.

The comments were nice though. Since his channel was new, it was mostly supporters, hardly any trolls bothered to lurk around him, though he’d get the odd ���wtf’ down there or people who wished they could keep weight down and envied him. Mostly though, he had some followers who encouraged him and looked forward to his development. They said he should keep trying and he’ll get there. But it just felt like an impossible dream. This night a couple comments popped up right away. ‘Love the water stuff. Keep it coming.’ ‘U cute already. No need for gains.’ ‘More ass shots.’ ‘Hnnnghgnnnnngnghg’ He chuckled a bit at them. He knew guys would be jerking off to it. In a way, it was what he was going for. It made him feel sexy, though it felt a little gross at times. Essentially, it depended on his mood. But it was a fetish thing, gaining, so he knew what to expect. Another thing he expected were the suggestions. In fact, he’d only tried to water gain because of a suggestion on a previous video. So when he saw a comment of someone trying to peddle some kind of gain quick scheme, he was mildly interested. ‘I have trick for you. It is good. Get big fast. Just a drink. Message me contact info.’ He rolled his eyes. Guys were always trying to hook up with him like this, and it was a little annoying. ‘Get big fast’ wasn’t going to be enough to get his digits. He never met with people from online. Call him traditional, but he was a face to face kind of guy. He wasn’t even on Grindr. There weren’t any other comments worth scrolling through, so he plugged in his phone and decided to retire for the night. He went to bed emotionally deflated and hoped he could find something new to try tomorrow.

“You’re HEFFrey.” He was at his favourite bar the next night. He was never a big fan of beer, but his gainer mindset convinced him if he drank it enough, maybe one day he’d have a trucker worthy beer gut. He was two coronas deep when he heard the name called out. The music in the bar was loud though and his lightweight ass was a little buzzed already so at first he thought he was just hearing things. But then again in the strong accent he couldn’t place, his tag was called again. “You are HEFFrey. Gain boy of the web.” A tall stranger had sat down next to him. The guy had very pale skin, jet black hair, and these wide blazing sun coloured eyes that stared so deeply. He didn’t move as he spoke directly at Jeffrey. “It is you, yes?” he asked again. “Uh…” Jeffrey started sweating all over. Oh crap, oh crap, oh crap, was all he could think. His biggest fear was someone recognising him from his channel. That’s why he tried not to film his face in the videos. So how did this guy know? “Must be you. You have the mother’s marking,” the stranger said pointing to a spot on the back of Jeffrey’s palm. “My birth mark…” Jeffrey whispered, pulling his hand away and cradling it. “So… You got me… Please though, it’s private. Don’t tell anyone.” The stranger shook his head. “No. But I left you a comment. Did you read?” “Uh, thanks bro, but I get a lot of comments…” “I help you. I know fast gain. Big gain.” Jeffrey blinked. So this guy… Was this the guy who asked for his contact info? He always imagined his subscribers lived halfway across the globe. What was the coincidence they’d be meeting in the same city in the same bar the very next day? “I have gain product,” the guy said. After he finished speaking, he actually moved now and fished a bottle out of a satchel Jeffrey hadn’t noticed earlier. The bottle looked just like the one of Mass Gainer he had at home, but this one was in some unrecognisable language. Jeffrey blinked at it and scoffed. “I’ve tried that kinda stuff…” “No. You have not. This is not like your lame human powders. This is from my homeland. It is guaranteed gain.” “Listen, dude. Nothing works on me,” Jeffrey said. “This stuff sounds great, but I’m almost ready to give up.” “No!” The guy shook his head quickly. “You are my favourite to watch. I promise you, this works.” Jeffrey huffed and drank a bit more of his beer. “What do I gotta do? I can’t read that shit…” The man beamed excitedly. “It dissolves in any drink. Milk. Water. Beer. Smoothie. Up to you—” Jeffrey snatched the bottle, uncapped it, and poured half a cup of it into his beer. He lazily swirled it around with a finger before chugging it down. The alcohol went straight to his head and he felt a little tipsy. “Ah… Oop…too fast.” The stranger watched him in awe, a pleased smile on his face. “How do you feel?” “Like this ain’t gonna work…” Jeffrey leaned forward and grabbed the handsome strangers shirt. “But I did it for you cause you’re hot, so how ‘bout you take me home?” The stranger all but sparkled. “I’d love to.”

The next morning, Jeffrey woke up with a wicked hangover and an ache in his anus he felt like he would feel for days. He didn’t remember much from the night before. He remembered little clips: a car ride, the sound of his keys, shirts flying off, the overall feeling of being hot and horny. But now, he felt sick and gross, with a side of regret. But he knew the ache of a good fuck and it had been a while. Too bad he couldn’t even remember the other guy’s name and he was nowhere to be found… After throwing up in the bathroom, he pulled himself to his feet and went to wash his face. The water was so cool and refreshing it helped him think straight and his vision cleared up as well. A second later, he was staring at himself in the mirror. “…No… No way…” He backed up slowly, staring down at his midsection. He couldn’t believe it. His usually concave stomach was actually slightly bloated. For anyone else, this would be a side effect of all the beer and snacks he had the day before, but for him, it was like he’d become as fat as Santa Claus. He couldn’t believe it. Looking down, he pressed a finger into his stomach to make sure it was real. When his skin resisted, he felt almost faint with delight. It worked! That guy’s stuff, whatever it was, actually worked! And overnight too! He tried to reconnect his mind to his feet so he could go stand on his scale. He closed his eyes and counted to three, then looked down. “…Two…Two pounds? Two pounds!” Jeffrey started panting. “Oh my god… Oh my fucking god… I need to… I need to vlog this!” He nearly tripped over himself trying to get to his camera. He was so excited to share his new growth. “Hey, guys! So...Oh my god, this is a pretty, uh, impromptu video. I said I'd be back next week, but, uh... Well, just look!” He paraded his new body in front of his camera very pleased with himself. “So, this growth is kind of a mystery... I met this pretty hot guy who had, like, a gainer shake powder or whatever. Some cool foreign stuff. Threw it in my beer and here we are. I’m so excited. To that guy, thanks bud! I didn’t get your name but like… You know. Hit me up.” He rubbed his stomach happily and patted it. “Okay, so that’s all for now. I can’t wait to see where we are next week.”

This slight new shape gave Jeffrey so much confidence. He celebrated every night and woke up each morning ridiculously hungover. He managed to sober up for his work shifts but he didn’t have too many shifts so he didn’t worry about it. Besides, his cousin, though barely around, paid for everything in their apartment so work wasn’t important to him. He’d started dedicating all his own income to this gain thing. He always went to the same bar each night but he didn’t see the powder guy anywhere again. He shrugged it off though. You could only get lucky so often, right? Flipping on the camera a week later, he nearly danced in excitement. “Alright, first reading of the day,” he said. “My appetite’s been up and as you guys can see, there’s definitely new growth. I feel like I should have, like, a name for when we do a scale reading… Scale…scale… Uhhhh… Measurement mode? Hah, I don’t know… I’ll work on it…” He stepped on the scale and beamed. “Another two pounds! Guys, I’m… Just wow. I’m 116 lbs now. I never thought I’d get here… Let’s do a belly measurement!” He pulled out his measuring tape and pulled it around his middle. “29 inches! God, I mean, compared to what’s out there, that’s pretty lame, but for me, this is so dope. I was 25 inches two weeks ago. Jesus. I hope this keeps up. I’m fucking…I’m shook or whatever.” He turned and gave them one last extended front and profile view before signing off and turning off the camera. He wasn't much of an editor so he just re-watched it to make sure he liked the video and threw it up online. Within minutes he was getting quite the comments. Many were just as excited as he was and he loved it. One guy mentioned his arm was still bigger than Jeffrey but Jeffrey didn’t mind. He knew he was gonna get big. He just had the best feeling about it.

Part 2 Part 3

[sign-from-god-complex]

I’m really glad you like it!!!! Sorry that this took so long! I’ve actually been doing more than just SpIn stuff recently which is a change, haha.

(this one is more in-depth but hopefully it’s not boring?? I hope that’s okay. it’s also way longer, so, uhhhh, whoops.)

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

In the early days, Virgil would just call in Roman to lay on top of him as a pressure stim. Roman was strangely the best choice because Patton always made it too cuddly and Virgil felt overwhelmed, and Logan found it very uncomfortable. Virgil was worried that Roman would be too squirmy, but he was actually very good at being still.

Eventually Roman bought Virgil a weighted blanket, which definitely made Virgil cry a little bit cause he’d been talking about getting one for ages. Virgil still sometimes calls Roman in to lay on top of him when he wants to spend time with someone without actually spending time with anyone.

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

Logan makes notes of everything. He finds it difficult to remember all the many things he is expected to do by social conventions that just don’t seem intuitive to him so he writes them all down and files them. Things he’s filed include step-by-step instructions on how to deal with a panic attack, as well as contemporary slang terms and body language cues and their meanings.

He has a System for his filing and the one time Roman came into his room and grabbed a book off the shelf without asking, Logan screamed at him. Roman has since learned not to touch Logan’s things, as Logan has learned not to yell at Roman for singing in the hallways. They’re getting better at communicating.

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

While most people with ASD tend to have low levels of empathy (specifically cognitive empathy, the ability to read other’s emotions) Virgil and Patton both have hyper-empathy. They’re always aware of the vibe of a room and it can heavily influence how they’re feeling. Highly emotional rooms can be just as overwhelming for them as very loud or bright ones, and they always look out for each other when they’re in them, ready to take the other out of the situation if they need it.

Roman and Logan both have low empathy, which bothers Roman in particular cause he always wants to help people (by slaying whatever’s burdening their life, you know the gist), but he can never actually tell when anyone’s upset. It also results in them both accidentally upsetting people quite often.

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

Logan has alexithymia, or an inability to recognise what emotions he, himself, is feeling (which commonly overlaps with ASD). This also extends to having bad interoception - the ability to read internal signals such as hunger or thirst.

He follows his schedule super closely not just cause it upsets him to deviate from it, but also because he may forget to do important things like eating if he didn’t. He has alarms set on his phone for some things, as well as some of those apps that remind you to drink water and such.

When he was creating these alarms he initially forgot that drinking water was another thing he needed to have alarms for. He was wandering around all day with a headache, wondering whether it was lack of sleep or stress or something, until he mentioned it to Virgil and Virgil asked if he’d drunk any water today. He immediately informed Virgil he was an idiot and downloaded an app to remind him to drink water.

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

Roman is the worst at taking care of himself when he’s upset or overwhelmed (see the previous ask where I mentioned he was the most likely to try and work through sensory overload) cause he’s very much of the faulty mindset that he’s strong enough to just push through and ignore whatever is bothering him.

One of the ways this presented was Roman eating whatever food was made for him even when he couldn’t stand the texture. He did this for ages, to the point where Patton made something with a very bad texture in it (say, avocado, cause avocados are just the worst texture ever) and Roman literally started crying at the dinner table.

They managed to get to a point where Roman was a little more okay and he explained. Virgil then pointed out that some days he doesn’t eat anything aside from frozen waffles and that bananas have been permanently banned from all meals because Logan can’t stand them. Roman feels slightly more okay about it.

Patton always runs dinner by Roman first now, or if Roman is busy, he’ll ask Logan, who has a running list of all the things Roman can’t eat.

------------- 

One of Logan’s special interests is space and astronomy (obviously). Once every so often when they feel like Logan is particularly down or stressed (always telling Logan and Virgil in advance so they know which day to expect it) they all go to the imagination and stargaze. They always pick a slightly different sky to look at so there’s some variation - some days it’s the day Thomas watched a meteor shower, or the day that there was a lunar eclipse, or even just an exceptionally clear Sunday evening.

It’s one of the only times Logan is so obviously happy. He talks nonstop about the science of starlight in relation to time or about the different influences on the naming of planets, the classification of Pluto etc. etc. He actually flaps when he gets super excited about something, which is uncommon for him. The other three love seeing him so carefree.

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

Patton has echolalia, especially when he’s interacting with animals. Did that dog bark at him? You better believe he’s going to bark back. If a cat meows in his general vicinity he will also meow. It’s also the way he communicates to the others that there’s an animal if he sees one.

If he gets super excited about something like a line in a tv show or something he’ll just repeat it really enthusiastically to the others and they’ll repeat it back to him to show they know and are also excited. And he’ll repeat the beeping of the microwave or knocking on the door if he’s wanting to draw attention to it since he isn’t the one getting it. Patton is almost always the one who starts mindscape-wide vine quoting, but the others are always very quick to join in.

It took them all a while to understand what Patton meant when he would use little phrases instead of clearly stating what he was trying to say (and then getting frustrated - “gosh, words can be tough”), but they’ve all adapted to it over time. Logan has several pages of notes dedicated to Patton’s speech quirks (e.g. duck out, “quack”; “beep beep”: move away and give me space; “second star to the right and straight on til morning”: Logan, you’re overworking yourself and you need to go to sleep, etc.).

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

Listening to music is a whole thing with Virgil. Like, he’ll listen to it any chance he’ll get, but also if he’s Listening, you have to leave him alone. It’s so heavily tied to his emotions, it calms him down remarkably easily and it blocks out negative sensory input. The first and only time Roman unplugged Virgil’s headphones in an attempt to get him to play his music out loud, Virgil had a meltdown.

Listening to music is also a whole thing with Roman but in an entirely different way. To Roman, music is a Big Thing. Music needs to be stimmed to, music needs to be sung and danced to. Music deserves to be heard. Roman will play his music out loud in common areas and it pisses Virgil off for reasons he can’t fully articulate.

To Virgil, music is personal, to Roman, music is a shared experience. They both come to accept that they don’t understand how the other feels, but they respect it anyway.

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

I hope this was okay!!! I spent over 3 hours writing all of this cause I got really excited about all the possibilities and then maybe I wrote too much??? I like it though.

[patchworkofstars]

Seven Days of Love Notes

Chapter 2: Tuesday Stars

Chapter 1 AO3

Pairing: Royality

Summary: Patton has a plan to cure Virgil’s insomnia. Too bad Roman and Logan are behaving (more) strangely (than usual).

Chapter 2 Word Count: 1,863

Warnings: I don’t think there’s anything that needs noting for this chapter.

On Tuesday morning, Patton found a note in the cutlery drawer.

You are a star lighting my darkest night, it said, and there were little stars drawn all around the words. He could feel the mushy smile return to his face as he gazed at it, wondering again just who the writer was. His reverie was interrupted by a sudden voice from the doorway.

“What have you got there?”

Patton spun around, startled, to find Virgil watching him. “Just a note, nothing important", he said, quickly slipping it into his pocket. He hesitated. “Unless you wrote it?”

Virgil shook his head.

“Must have been one of the others, then!” Patton said brightly. “Anyway, how are you, kiddo? Feeling any better today?”

Virgil shrugged. “Still tired. Still not sleeping. I just wanna curl up and die, but nope, I can’t even get that right.”

Patton bit his lip and frowned. Coming up with solutions wasn't exactly his strong suit, but there must be some way he could help his friend. "Wait!" he said suddenly, snapping his fingers, “Would it help if you had someone to sleep with?”

“Uhhhh...” Virgil stared at him.

Patton blushed slightly. “Oh, uh, I didn’t mean like that. I just thought…maybe we could put cushions and sleeping bags on the living room floor, and have a sort of sleepover. You and me, and perhaps the others if you’d like it and they’re willing. So you wouldn’t be alone.”

“That...might actually help”, said Virgil, after a moment’s consideration. “I dunno, at this point I’m willing to give it a try.”

“Would you like the others to join us?”

Virgil shrugged. “I guess if they want to, they can. I don’t want either of them throwing a fit because they feel left out.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure. You invite them, though. I don’t have the energy to deal with them right now.”

Patton smiled broadly. “Sure, kiddo! This’ll be fun! And I’ll let them know this sleepover is for sleeping, so they’re not bickering until 2 am.” He winked, and Virgil gave him a half smile.

“Thanks, Dad, you’re the best.”

* * * * *

Roman seemed strangely flustered when he opened the door of his room. Rather than flinging it wide as he usually did, he stopped it halfway with a foot, blocking Patton's view of whatever lay beyond. His right hand fidgeted awkwardly with the cuff of his jacket, and his eyes kept flicking to one side. The others might have let it slide, but Patton wasn't the others. He always preferred the direct approach.

"What are you hiding in there?" he asked, trying to peer past Roman into the room.

“Nothing at all!” He laughed nervously. “W-Would you like to come in?”

“Yes, please!”

“One moment, my room’s rather messy. I’ve been working on a project of sorts, just let me clean up a little...”

With that, he slid himself out of the doorway, pulling the door shut as he moved. Patton frowned at the wooden barrier. For a brilliant actor, Roman could be terrible at acting.

He reappeared a minute later, face flushed and with a smile Patton could easily see was forced. The prince’s true smiles always lit up his eyes, and this one didn’t even reach them.

“Come in!” he said too brightly, scraping a hand through his hair as he stepped back and held the door open for the moral side.

Patton couldn’t see anything in the room to explain the odd behaviour. He stepped across the threshold onto the plush carpet, his eyes roving across all the old familiar Disney posters and playbills on the walls. Taking a deep breath, he filled his nostrils with the scent of roses, cinnamon, buttered popcorn, and fresh air that always made him feel somehow at home.

His eyes wandered back to Roman and found him gazing back with an oddly soft expression. Patton’s breath caught in his throat, but then the prince jerked his head away, clearing his throat and moving to stand in front of his desk drawers.

“So, what did you want to speak to me about?” he asked, his voice a little too high-pitched.

“Oh, uh…” Patton dragged his attention back to the matter at hand. “Virgil and I are having a sleepover in the living room tonight, and we wondered if you’d like to join us.”

“You’re having a sleepover? With Virgil?” Roman’s eyes tightened.

“That’s right.”

“Well, in that case, I'll definitely be there. I can't leave you all alone with Edward Sullen.”

Patton ignored the jab at Virgil and smiled. “Great! I’m going to invite Logan, too, so hopefully the whole family will be there.”

“Sounds good.” Roman cleared his throat. He glanced at the door, but didn’t move from his spot in front of the drawers.

Patton bit his lip. “Well, uh, I’d better go see Logan now.” His feet seemed to be glued to the floor, determined not to let him leave.

“Yes, and I should get back to working on, uh...”

“Your project! Yes, I hope it goes well.” He forced a bright smile, mentally instructing his legs to carry him to the door. They finally obliged, but each step felt stiff and unnatural. It didn’t help that his eyes kept glancing back to Roman instead of looking where he was going. When he reached the doorway, he paused.

“I’ll see you later then, at the, uh, sleepover.”

“Yes, indeed. The sleepover.” Roman still hadn’t moved.

Patton stepped out into the corridor and pulled the door shut behind him, then leaned against the wall and sighed. Why the purple pogo sticks did this only happen around Roman? They were all his friends, all his family, and yet only Roman turned his heart into a jackhammer. He closed his eyes and tried to sort through his emotions, but they were too tangled for him to pick apart.

Shaking his head, he forced himself to focus on what mattered. It was clear something was bothering Roman, but equally clear he didn’t want to discuss it. Patton hoped he would feel comfortable confiding in him eventually. In the meantime, there were the others to worry about. It was time to speak to Logan.

* * * * *

“Logan?”

“Come in.”

Patton pushed open the door and stepped into the room, struck as ever by the sheer academic nerdiness of the place. Everything was systematically arranged for maximum efficiency, files neatly labelled, books carefully alphabetised… It was all so different from Patton’s haphazard collection of nostalgic clutter and Roman’s realm of stories.

Logan sat on his ergonomic leather desk chair like an Architect of Order on his throne. Papers covered with notes and diagrams littered his desk, and amidst them he was reading from a thick tome of some sort.

“What did you want, Patton?” he asked, without looking up from the text.

“Uh, the rest of us are having a sleepover in the living room tonight. Do you want to join us?”

“A sleepover?”

“That’s right.”

“Calling it a sleepover doesn’t make sense when we all live here already.” Logan still hadn’t looked up.

Patton bit his lip. He hadn’t expected enthusiasm, but he couldn’t help worrying about how distant and distracted Logan seemed. “Well, whatever you want to call it, the three of us will be sleeping in the living room tonight.”

“Just sleeping? No silly games or midnight snacks?”

“Just sleeping. It’s to help Virgil. Will you join us?”

Logan glanced up just for a moment and sighed. "I suppose so, if it's to help Virgil sleep."

“Thank you! I’ll, uh, see you later then.”

“Indeed.”

* * * * *

Fudgsicles, with all the emotions that had been swirling around he’d forgotten to caution Roman and Logan not to fight. Although in fairness to Logan, neither he nor Patton had any idea why Roman suddenly snapped.

He had been carefully making a bed for himself to the left of Patton’s – Virgil having already claimed the patch of floor to his right – and as he worked he’d been humming the same tune Patton recognised from their pancake-making session the previous day. A moment later Logan, who had been setting up his own bed perpendicular to the other three, had joined in with the words.

“Longin’ to tell you

But afrai-”

Roman launched himself across the room and slammed his pillow into Logan’s face, the momentum sending them both crashing down onto his bed.

For a second everyone froze, then Logan pushed both the pillow and Roman away and yelled, “What was that in aid of?!”

Roman’s face was scarlet and his eyes blazed. “What on earth possessed you of all people to suddenly start singing?!” he yelled back.

"I thought perhaps you had forgotten the lyrics, and rather than embarrassing you by pointing it out I decided to remind you of them subtly."

“I know the lyrics perfectly well, I just don’t feel like singing them right now!”

Logan tugged at his pyjamas to straighten them. “How was I to know that for the first time ever you didn’t want to sing? And why should that mean I’m not allowed to?” He narrowed his eyes. “Is this because you li-”

Roman shoved the pillow across his face again.

“Uh, boys?” Patton said hesitantly. The pair whirled around as if they’d only just remembered he and Virgil were there.

Roman’s blush flamed even brighter. “I am done!" he cried, grabbing his pillow back from Logan and throwing himself onto his bed, his face turned away from the group.

"Good", said Logan, "Because I have had more than enough of your irrational outbursts for one day." He sat down on his bed and opened a book, glaring at it with more venom than Turn Left At Orion probably deserved.

Patton directed an apologetic smile at Virgil, who shrugged and got into bed. Pushing his frustration with them far away, the moral side looked around at his beloved family and felt his heart swell with warmth and joy. Then he climbed into his own bed and snapped his fingers to turn off the light.

A string of expletives issued from Logan’s bed, followed by fumbling sounds and then the bright beam of a flashlight.

“No reading in bed, Logan”, Patton told him. “You’ll strain your eyes.”

Logan muttered a few more expletives under his breath, but gave up and extinguished the light. Patton lay on his back and smiled to himself, listening to the soft rhythm of Virgil’s breathing to his right and the occasional sighs from Roman to his left. He wriggled his toes, secure in the awareness that Logan lay only a few inches beyond them. This was the time of night when he would usually say his secret goodnights to them all, but he had a feeling that would embarrass them. He would have to settle for something less mushy.

“I love you all”, he told them. “You make my heart sing so much it’s like a choir of angels in here! I hope it doesn’t keep you awake. Sleep tight!”

Then he relaxed, half an eye on Virgil, as he drifted off to sleep.

@metaphoricalpluto @punch-you-with-friendship @ab-artist @deathbyvenusftw @thesilentbluesparrow @captain-loki-xavier @the-prince-and-the-emo @lizaelsparrow @syndianites @a-blog-just-for-sanders @shootingstarpilot @im-a-bin-child @myfourstrangesons​

[e-vasong]

ok but as a reveal scene, one of the heroes who has been foiling vicious plans gets caught, maybe its eraserhead or present mic and ofc izuku is there in costume and he doesn't know what to do, he knows so well what to do, he has to save eraserhead bc his friends wouldnt forgive him if he leaves him. And he knows that vicious is gonna torture him before killing him so he has a bit of time, but aizawa doesn't deserve torture /1

Aizawa is smart and doesn’t show that he recognises thetcostume, the kid who saved his life but his stomach clenches becauee hesh beenbwith this person for two years. ANYWAY PLS when they are finally alone and Izuku gets him food, he’s like “don’t worry im gonna help” and aizawa is “I wonder what he did to you saving metwo years ago’ and Izuku is just uhhh what come on we have to get you out, and maybe aizawa gives him an ultimate with, if u dontd come with me i won’t go anywhere” ízukuisnthappy

“Uhhhh what”

I’m crying because that’s so IC for this Izuku just like.  “Hey! You’re badly injured”/”Uhhhh….what….are you talking about.  Ignore that.”/”I can literally see you bleeding”/”its ketchup”

“Hey are you okay?”

Izuku, hiding all his problems under a rug: “yes.”

Also, this is incredibly amusing because I can definitely imagine Aizawa pulling that shit.  Izuku’s just like “Go!  You have to go now!”

“Oh, so you’ve agreed that you’re coming, then?”

“NO”

Izuku’s literally trying to push Aizawa out the damn door but can’t because of the height/strength disadvantage.

Aizawa’s literally like “I can do this all day.”

Izuku just throws his hands up in the air.  He’s so fucking tired.  (But I think he would definitely be very touched that someone would just fucking…refuse to leave him behind)

[alloftimeandspacetosee]

Birds of a Feather

Oh look! They’re finally meeting properly! Well how about that.

 I chose Jayden’s name without considering Jay’s bc by this point I mostly thought of her as Blue oops

 Everyone gets a laugh out of it, it’s fine.

 Oh, and since this is the first instance of a pokemon doing thought speech - I use <> to say they’re just speaking to one person, and {} when they’re speaking to all.

[1] [2] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8]

~

The sudden silence after the wind is almost deafening, but it means I hear something hit the ground. Something that screeches in what sounds like pain. It might be a challenge, but that didn’t... sound threatening enough for that.

I jerk to my feet, glancing for Brith and Pie. “Can you-”

<A male and a bird> Pie closes her eyes. <I do not think they are a threat>

As I stand, the two of them do as well. It’s not that they think I’ll be in danger, but maybe it’s a trainer looking for a battle.

“Hello?” he calls out as I reach the top of the steps, Brith in front of me. “Can you – oh!”

Gar’aq dives in from over the sea, screeching a warning.

“Gar’aq!” I yell, following it with a sharp whistle.

He pulls back, circling away.

“Sorry.” I glance at Gar’aq to make sure he’s keeping back.

“It’s alright, he’s just protecting the nest, right?” The man has flight goggles perched on his forehead and his hair is wild with the wind. He’s wearing a quilted jacket and thick, falconer’s gloves, so clearly some kind of bird trainer. Probably not too hard for Ray and Glace, then. Or Gar’aq, if he feels like listening.

He looks familiar. Like an ‘I’ve-seen-you-a-couple-times-before' sort of... totally can’t remember.

“Have we met?” He studies my pokemon. “I... feel like I recognise them.”

“Maybe?” I shrug. “Are... you here for a battle?”

“Not unless I absolutely have to.”

I relax my guard. “Nah that’s cool. People don’t normally land here otherwise is all.”

“It was an accident, the wind...” He glances back to the huge bedraggled braviary behind him. “We thought we could outrun it.”

"I didn’t think even Suicune could outrun that one.”

He smiles. “We’d say Tornadus was travelling and didn’t want to be disturbed.”

Unovan, then, as if the accent didn’t give him away.

“Where are we?”

“North of Fiore,” I reply. “No man’s land.”

“It’s yours, then?” He smiles. “Do I have to pay a toll?”

“Nah, it’s fine.” I snort and wave my team away. They’d gathered, apparently expecting our usual activity.

He smiles. “I don’t suppose you have somewhere I can stay for a while? At least until Sayri – my braviary – is rested enough to continue.”

“Sure.” I beckon him to follow me back down the steps. “They aren’t too slippy.”

Vulp raced up and down them often enough to dry off any rain that did fall on them.

“Oh!”

“What?” I twist to look up at him, worried he might have fallen.

He’s staring down at my ship. “That’s where I’ve seen you before. Castelia.”

“Uhhhh.” I shrug and enter the cave.

Soise darts back from the fire, taking up residence in the shadows near the back.

“You were taking a shipment of... bugs? Burgh was coming off your ship.”

“Oh! Oh, right. Yeah, the larvesta.” I don’t say that I remember him as a potential threat to Sesser. That would be rude. “Sorry.”

“It’s been a while.” He shrugs easily.

We fall silent as he settles by the fire.

Brith sits in the entrance of the cave, Pie beside her.

<Manners, Blue>

I try not to jump as Pie nudges my thoughts. “Do you want anything to drink? I... might have tea or coffee lying around. Diluting juice and hot chocolate and water is a definite though.”

He tilts his head, considering that. “Just some water, if that’s alright.”

“Perfectly." I grab a cup on my way to the cold cellar at the back of the cave. “Anything for your bird?”

“Nothing at the moment,” he replies. “She'll find what she needs up in the trees.”

I nod, crouching down as the ceiling dips, to where the spring runs clear.

“Do you... live here?”

“Sort of?” I offer him the cup as I come back. “The ship, that’s my real home. I come here to clear my head.”

“And attack any trainers that come crashing in.” He smiles over the cup, taking a drink.

I shrug. “As it goes.”

“So, if you’re being hunted down because you’re that good a trainer... I might know your name?”

Pie snorts.

I throw a glare her way. “Jay. The NightGale. Occasionally Blue.”

He crooks a smile, letting out a small huffing laugh. “I’m Jayden.”

Pie snorts again, and I can hear Soise cackling. Even Brith is hiding a smile, looking out to the sea.

“I’m sorry, my pokemon are terrible.” I’d throw something at them, but I don’t have anything close to hand.

“It’s quite the coincidence.”

I narrow my eyes at him. “If you’re going to start laughing, I can still throw you off the cliff.” It’s not like we could help our names.

“And Sayri is in no fit state to catch me,” he replies. “So I won’t.”

“Thanks.”

Soise’s still laughing, but at least she’s quieter now.

I feel like there should be conversation. What the heck do we talk about. Like... what can I-

<Where was he going, Blue> Pie prompts. <Must I do everything for you?>

I blink. “Where were you running?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Before the wind dropped you. What was your heading?” Most people aren’t running, I remind myself. They just have places to get to, not things to get away from.

“Oh - Sinnoh.” He smiles now, understanding that. It’s not his crooked smile, but a more genuine one.

I think I prefer the crooked one.

I shake my head to get rid of that thought (it’s unnecessary and I don’t like it) and chance upon a new one. “If you’d like to rest your bird some more, I can give you a lift that way.”

“Are you sure?” He blinks.

I snort. “I don’t exactly have a plan for where I go.”

“That’s mighty kind of you.”

I shrug. “There’s space enough, and Brith’s all-star-snark gets tiring sometimes.”

“Well, if you can’t keep up.” Brith grins.

Jayden doesn’t quite startle at that, but I think he’s surprised. Not many people meet talking pokémon.

“So yeah, if you reckon you can keep with that,” I say, shooting Brith an amused look, “Then you’re good to come with us.”

“I don’t want to... cut your time short here?”

I tilt my head, make a decision. “Nah, we’re good.” I stand, rolling my shoulders. “I’m almost out of like... pastry or something.”

“Pastry.” Jayden stands, too, his eyebrows slightly raised.

“It’s important.” I clap my hands against my legs to brush them off.

Brith gets to her feet, going to call the pack.

“Which port is best for you?”

He shrugs. “Suny... shore?”

I nod. “That’ll work. Good tourist port.”

“Oh, I’m looking for birds, for different flying types. I study them, to help my sister expand her fighting style and team, introduce new pokemon to the roster."

"Your sister trains flying types as well?" Talk about keeping it in the family.

"She's the gym leader."

I close my eyes to run through them. "Skyla. Mistralton."

"That was..."

"You're Unovan, I've barrelled through them all." I shrug. "I don't remember you in the gym, though."

<Oh, you would have remembered him?>

I throw a handful of pocket rubbish at Pie. Scraps of paper, a pen. Ticket stubs.

Jayden raises his eyebrows. "I'm... not a trainer. Not like that, anyway. I research, I don't... battle."

"That's fair." I let out a sigh. Definitely not going to be challenged by this one, then. I couldn't always tell. Some of them liked a bit of a chat first, as if I might let slip some big battling secret that they could then use against me.

Morons.

"But you do, right? That's what you were expecting?" He ran a hand through his hair. "Do people... really look you out for battles?"

"Yeah, I'm like... like Red. Except Blue."

"You should make a club."

"Soise's been telling her that, too." Brith appears in the entrance of the cave.

He jumps as Brith speaks again.

"I've never met the guy, but when I do," I say, grinning. "Is that everyone alert?"

Brith nods, the pack slipping past her and down the steps. "The wind isn't quite in the right quarter, but we can just about set. The tide's on the turn, though, so we'll want to make it quick."

I nod. "Thanks. If you want to get your pokemon and meet us on the deck...?" I gesture for him to head out first. "Pie, I assume-"

<I will stay here> She inclines her head. <And if anyone comes calling, I'll tell them you're out>

"Thanks." I swing my small pack onto my shoulder.

Jayden ducks out and heads up.

I punch Brith in the shoulder as I pass her

"I didn't say anything."

"Continue that way," I reply, as Sesser lands on my shoulder. "It's unnecessary."

"Words are irrelevant," Brith says, which is... sort of an agreement.

The ship is tugging at her headrope already, the sails unfurled but flapping loose against the masts.

Sharranth bursts from the sea and glides alongside the ship for half its length before disappearing under again.

"How can I pay you for this?" Jayden's caught up more quickly than I'd expected.

I jump, but cover it (I think) in the swell of the ship under us. "It's fine. Uh - fourth cabin down. Is free, I think?"

"I'll show you," Brith says, gesturing for him to follow.

"You'll cast off," I tell her. "They're not hard to find."

"No - Jay, really, I can't freeload."

I tilt my head, hand on the railing up to the bridge. "Alright. How much Unovan folklore do you know?"

[earthstellar]

No worries!!! <3 

Thank you so much!! <3 I’m trying not to work myself up over the interview too much lol, I appreciate the support! :’) 

Velocity is super relatable tbh, I definitely get what you mean. I see myself in her curled up next to Nautica for sure, and her going over the data pad with Ratchet is like yes!!! I recognise this process!! Finally, representation! lol 

And thanks for the ref shortlist too!! :) Great stuff! 

I love me some Medscape; I have Signs and Symptoms + 12th Edition Clinician’s pocket ref too, they’re God Tier tbh 

I have a couple different drug dose/pharma guides; Currently my fave for general basics reference is right here (pictured in my original post) but they also make a great Medicines Management ref book which I use too!

Since I do lots of scribing etc. I use this medical dictionary as needed, which is also just generally helpful for deciphering some of the less helpful (or straight up misspelled) notes on EMIS Web etc. lmao 

I consider most of the Oxford Handbooks to be solid classics too, but some of them are pretty chonky so I know some people prefer more condensed material for quick ref lol 

And lmao I figured re: your partner but then I’m also extremely queer so I was like wait do I apply my HC worker brain or my queer brain, I can no longer differentiate anything uhhhh middle ground LOL :’) 

I’m very glad to hear your safety is being considered appropriately!!! <3 My dad was super adamant that I have firearm skills at least to a core basic level of competency, and I’ve had some “fun” conversations about bulletproof vests, ceramic plating, etc. so having an Army medic dad worked out for me in that regard big time lol 

First time he took me out in the yard I was 12 and he was like “alright I feel good about starting this with you today” and I remember saying something like “UH THAT’S A GUN” and he was like “yep, it’s not loaded yet, I want to see how you pick it up” lmaooo I mean, I did! and eventually fired a few rounds later on the same day. had an OK time, did not sleep at all that night though! LOL 

in true Dad Fashion he evidently did not tell my mother we would be learning the weapons aspect of providing care on that day LMAO so that was a fun evening. “you told me you were doing first aid stuff!” “first aid stuff involves protection!” “you gave our 12 year old a gun!” “I was there the whole time!” 10/10 army medic dad lessons. :’) 

I feel you 100%, self-confidence just gets knocked around so bad, I feel like busy hospitals are almost always the worst for this which is probably obvious but I don’t think people can get it until they’ve been in it, if that makes sense lol

It’s brutal, but you are still doing an amazing job despite everything and I believe in you!!!! I also have trauma; it’s different for everyone ofc but I’m super proud of you for getting more comfortable over time with acknowledging natural limitations because that is such a hard thing to do especially with trauma packing it down. <3 <3 <3 

I love that quote though because that’s totally correct! We’re human and it’s normal and expected to make mistakes. What matters is what we learn from those mistakes and how we proceed from there. :) <3 

And thank you omg I constantly talk about how I’d love a med bay focused four issue mini series of the comic or something, just anything to provide some more med bay shenenigans lol 

I can 100% see Ratchet just loading up a sedative like “alright, this needs to stop now” LMAO

it would be amazing if that’s right when Drift shows up and Whirl has the situational awareness to dodge the line of fire, thus Ratchet accidentally sedates Drift while Whirl keeps running around the med bay cackling and First Aid is just like “oh shit oh shit he can’t fire me I’m the next CMO right??? shitttttt” 

meanwhile Ratchet continues to wrangle the situation, he’s just doing it while laying out Drift on a nearby medical berth, which is very hard because Drift is doing his best to not let go and where the hell is Magnus already??? lmao

ultimately though Whirl is finally “taken down” when Rodimus slips an empty surgical tool tray in front of him on the surface of the rolling table he’s currently trying to use as a little island to skip across while yelling “the floor is the Rust Sea” in the style of “the floor is lava” and he slips and eats shit  

he’s not hurt but he concedes that because the floor is the Rust Sea, he has now formally “lost” the game of “help train the medics” and he finally agrees to calm down a bit, because this is on brand for Whirl Logic lol 

by the time Magnus actually gets there, everyone is mostly gone, First Aid looks stressed out, Velocity is beaming because Ratchet confirmed she handled it about as well as anyone possibly could, and Rodimus is still there but getting mildly told off by Ratchet because he keeps trying to draw shit on Drift’s armour with the equivalent of a wax pencil while he’s sleeping off the sedative lmao 

I love scenario type training; I’ve been used as an actor in all sorts of stuff (so I guess my performing arts experience has paid off in some way, lol) and it’s really fun! I enjoy helping out with the learning process so I’m always 100% on board whenever someone’s like “hey can you act out syncope” and I’m like I have POTS, hell yes I can! for me that’s borderline not even acting anymore! LOL 

also VEINS SUCK. that is the most real statement ever. truly. 

got a fairly recent blood drawing tale below the cut because this was suuuuuch an unnecessarily difficult sample to get, like WHY!!! 

oh god like two months ago, a newly qualified nurse was around when I needed some bloods done and I always agree to let the new people work on me because when I’m not in as a staff member then I’m in as a patient LOL so I consider this an opportunity to meet people I’ll probably be working with soon anyway 

so I was like, fair warning, for some mystical reason it is notoriously hard to draw blood from me (my Barts Haemoglobin may or may not be part of this, nobody is sure and it drives the haematology dept completely insane lmao) but this POOR BRAND NEW NURSE had to try EIGHT TIMES to get even close to a workable sample from me 

like I have such a high tolerance for needles that I honestly wasn’t bothered, this is classic for me lol. my blood has the consistency of tzatziki regardless of anything and it’s just impossible to draw from me ever, nobody has ever done it in less than five tries, it’s BRUTAL

like I’ve tried to draw from myself on a few occasions when appropriate and even I can’t do it lol, love it when the phlebotomist is like ??????? and the only possible response is “yeah” 

but this poor nurse oh my god. EIGHT TIMES. she’s brand new, the universe needs to leave her alone, she did not deserve this stress!! 

she was so apologetic and obviously was feeling like hell about it and I was like no no you’re perfect I promise my blood is just impossible you’re doing amazing omg

after a few attempts I was like ok let’s try a butterfly and she just so kindly asked me if I wanted another nurse to come in, but I was evaluating the situation here and it was way too clear to me that it would just DESTROY this poor nurse if someone else could come in and get it done which tbh is super unlikely because it’s my veins lmao, so I mean, really 

like she’s so newly qualified and if it had been any patient other than myself I would have called it and suggested getting someone else at this point or earlier tbh (because patient wellbeing always comes first and I realise most people are not usually as OK with being jabbed as many times as I am, lmao VEINS SUCK) 

but I really wanted to avoid her having to get such a confidence hit on like her FIRST DAY, because come on that is so ridiculous, she deserves better than this for real

like I could not give up on this nurse lmao, I believe in the heart of the cards!!!

straight up doing some Yu-Gi-Oh shit to get this sample LOL 

so I was like you know what, let’s try a butterfly at least one more time and if we still can’t get it then we’ll call in another nurse if you don’t feel comfortable continuing to try 

(because I also didn’t want her to feel obligated to keep trying or anything, like this sucked so bad for her omg it was way worse for her than it was for me!) 

but on the final attempt she got it, bless her she was trying so hard, we hugged it out once we got enough to send to the lab LMAO :’) <3 super proud of her!!! 

it is an absolute nightmare trying to get blood from me and nobody knows why, some people have veins/blood that just Do Not Cooperate and I am a great example of that, unfortunately 

honestly I don’t think another nurse would have been able to do it either, like I am famously hard to get samples from and it’s bewildering 

eight times isn’t even the worst by far, but like, new nurse!!! I’m so sorry my entire shit is like this!!! lol 

but what a journey, why are so many blood samples such a train wreck I’m serious!! this is like one of the most normal things ever lmao AND YET!!

like you are 100% not the only one, I’m over here on both sides of things lol and it’s like yeah veins in general are just not cool with any of this, super helpful!!! really awesome for when somebody’s gotta get in there real fast but the vasculature says no!!! if you listen you can actually hear the body saying “ha ha I’m about to make this suck so bad for everyone, this rules and definitely will not be an issue” nnoooooOOOOO

same deal with IVs, the shenanigans can be unreal sometimes lmao 

SIGH this occasion just stuck out to me because I could not believe the universe gave this brand new nurse me as a patient just right away. jumping into the deep end at 8:15 AM like please just give everyone a break 

worked out okay but eight times at 8 AM like come on that’s comically unnecessarily difficult for what it is!! VEINS!!!! BLOOD!!! GET IN THE TUUUUBE

I really like that we see Velocity, a relatively newly qualified medic, often checking notes or handling reference material on various data pads throughout MTME / Lost Light. 

I also really like that she consults frequently with Ratchet (or whoever the lead physician is at the time) whenever possible– She’s still finding her footing and gaining professional confidence in her knowledge and skills, and it shows in little details like her tendency to refer directly to records, charts, or reference information. 

It lends a very real feeling to how the med bay staff have organised themselves; We see that Velocity often handles non-emergent outpatients (like messing with Lug/Anode or Swerve, lol) but she is also involved in emergent care when needed, almost always under the guidance / monitoring of a senior medic. 

We don’t have much canonical information about how medics might rank themselves within a med bay / battle frontline / etc., but I love that we get a look at what general practice might look like a little bit on the Lost Light, because it has a very different pacing etc. compared to the usual emergent / urgent care / battlefield aid we typically see depicted in Transformers media.

And it makes sense that we usually don’t see more calm interactions in med bays given the most TF media takes place while the war is still ongoing, lmao.

But even when things kick off and get serious on the Lost Light, there’s a sense of there being a real structure amongst the medics and it adds to the realistic feeling of their crew being from a wide variety of background with differing levels of experience, both personal and professional. 

Learning Never Ends: Velocity and Checking Notes 

I love that we see Velocity as a student, struggling to stay motivated, with Nautica helping her study.

As an example of some real world healthcare worker reference material, I included a photo of one of my personal reference flip-books, which states it’s a nursing guide but honestly it has a lot of key information in there which is super, super helpful in general! I use it even though I am not currently nursing staff, myself. 

(Check out all my tabs on there and how many pages have had to be taped onto the pages below, lmaooo) 

Everyone needs to brush up on the basics / core knowledge here and there, and depending on what a healthcare worker is doing, where they are placed, what their level of relative experience is, etc. it is just super good to have reference material available and to use it as needed. 

It’s a very real thing, for Velocity as a less experienced medic to essentially carry the data pad equivalent of such a reference flip-book with her while on duty, and to have a tendency to check definitions and other reference documentation perhaps a little more literally or to-the-letter compared to Ratchet or First Aid– Because they both have more overall experience than Velocity does. 

At one point in the slightly blurry third set of panels above (sorry I couldn’t find a better version of this page at the moment!), Ratchet uses such a situation as a teaching moment for Velocity! 

Yes, she was right to check, and yes, she interpreted it correctly as written, but there’s additional clinical / diagnostic / treatment / care information which Ratchet has obtained through experience which may not be noted in the supplementary details for the patient diagnosis information Velocity is checking here. 

He might be more able to contextualise some details, or infer certain things, while Velocity is shown to assess primarily based solely on what is written. 

And it’s very good to adhere to what’s written! Patient charts matter. Clinical notes matter. But there may also be other things to take into consideration which may be less immediately obvious, too. We get a sense that this is the case in this scene, with Ratchet pointing out some less evident relevant information. 

Ratchet does a good job of talking this out with Velocity, and he uses the same reference material on the relevant data pad to highlight exactly what is sticking out to him and why. It’s likely he knows Velocity learns best in this way, and is teaching her in a similar way to how Nautica seems to have helped her study in medical school. 

Ratchet’s being a good teacher here, and Velocity’s response is heartbreaking, because of course we know she has professional confidence issues– And she feels she may have missed something potentially clinically significant, which might negatively impact their patient; For example, did her lack of knowledge earlier then result in a delay in the patient receiving appropriate care? And so on. 

And it’s a very real scene, because nobody is perfect– Minimise risk as much as possible, go in knowing as much as possible, but really she just doesn’t have a whole lot of experience yet. 

She will learn more, she will become less reliant on to-the-letter reference checking, and will gradually get more comfortable and capable in assessing things independently as she gains experience and internalises the input from her fellow medics.

But of course, nobody is perfect, and it does hurt when there was just something you didn’t know yet, which may have been good to identify earlier if possible at that time. 

With more knowledge and experience, this will happen less and less often. 

We see her gradually get a little better with her bedside manner, and develop a little more skill in addressing patients; 

Both her and Nautica struggle to address Ravage appropriately, for example, but soon after she is corrected it is clear that she gets a better grasp of how to speak to him as her patient and in general. 

Lug/Anode points out that Velocity assumes gender in one case, second set of panels above; A big no-no! 

But I feel like towards the end of Lost Light, Velocity would no longer be as inclined to do such a thing, as her experience with Ravage may have helped her understand better that with a diverse patient cohort comes a greater need for emphasis on respecting patient identity and being more willing to start engaging with a patient without preconceptions or assumptions– Something that is extremely important for her to learn and internalise all around. 

It is entirely possible that on Caminus, most of her teachers, peers, and patients were likely almost all fellow Camiens, with similar social/cultural backgrounds and concepts of identity within that framework.

So again, it’s all about experience, and I get the sense that Velocity is very much learning and integrating what she is gaining from experience into practice. 

She does need more experience, guidance, and to develop a little more confidence. But she’s come a really long way, and she’s on the right path. <3 

TL;DR I love Velocity and I will never shut up about space robot medics 

Hopefully this was interesting for someone!!! <3 

[skywalkerbc]

The Beauty in the Damnation

Written by: bellarkebc

AO3 Link

Summary:

(Based on an anon prompt)

Bellarke soulmate AU where when you get a tattoo, it appears on your soulmate as well.

or

Of course Clarke's soulmate would be such a fucking nerd

~ ~

“Everything is more beautiful because we are doomed. You will never be lovelier than you are now. We will never be here again.” - Homer, The Iliad                                            

~ ~ ~ ~

It’s fitting, she thinks, that her soulmate is such a fucking nerd. ‘Who better than a nerd for Clarke Griffin, our crazy smart pre-med student?’ her friend Jasper would say. To which he’d only ever gotten an eye roll in response. But yeah, she agrees. It definitely is fitting that she got a nerd instead some stupid asshole who thought she fit the dumb blonde description.

Clarke got her soulmark on a Thursday, in the middle of games night at Raven’s place. One minute she had been beating all their asses at Mario Kart, the next, black writing had appeared on her arm, making her jerk her controller to the right so fast that she plummeted straight off of rainbow road.

“Holy shit.” She says, staring at the words, still clutching the controller tightly in her hands.

“Yeah I know Clarke, what a blow! First place to twelfth…Haha suck it Monty!” Raven says from beside her, furiously turning to avoid falling into the abyss after shooting Monty with a red shell.

“No..I mean, well yeah that sucked but…holy shit.”

Monty pauses the game, causing the others to all groan and shout out a few choruses of complaints.

He turns from his place at Clarke’s feet to look at her. He opens his mouth to speak but before he says a thing, his eyes catch onto the, very new, soul mark on her wrist.

“Holy shit.” He says.

“That’s what I said.”

“Ahhhhhhh! Clarkey has a soulmate!” Jasper exclaims, jumping up from his position on the other couch to grab at Clarke’s wrist.

“What does it say? What does it say?” Raven asks him excitedly, leaning over Clarke’s shoulder.

Clarke tries to shrug them both off but Jasper’s grip is insane, and Raven is stubborn. She relents, letting him turn her arm to read the words.

“Everything is more beautiful because we are doomed…” Jasper reads.

“Huh.” Monty says, still staring at the cursive writing.

“That’s strangely poetic.” Jasper says, finally letting go of Clarke’s wrist.

“It’s from the Iliad.” Clarke says to the others, still a little in shock that she had an actual soulmate. It wasn’t like it was rare to have a soulmate nowadays, but it wasn’t exactly common either. Clarke’s fingers trace over the words running up her forearm.

Raven snorts suddenly.

“Of course your soulmate would be a fucking nerd.” She says, patting Clarke on the shoulder. She sinks back into the couch and grabs at her controller, nudging at Monty with her foot.

“Unpause it Monty, I was whipping all of your asses!”

Monty gives one last look to Clarke before grinning at Raven and unpausing the game.

“Oh you’re on Reyes.”

Clarke smiles softly at her friends, watching as Jasper quickly darts back over to the other couch to grab his controller.

“I call cheat!” He yells, furiously pushing the button to accelerate.

She leaves her controller in her lap and silently stares at the words, reading over and over them again.

‘Everything is more beautiful because we are doomed.’ She reads.

Looking back on her life, she can’t help but agree.

~ ~ ~ ~

Not that Clarke had ever thought she had to be one of those people with a soulmate, but she had definitely fantasised possible meet-cutes she’d have if she was lucky enough to have one.

And can she just say, meeting her soulmate by hitting them with her car, certainly wasn’t any of the scenarios she had imagined.

Her day had been pretty ordinary in terms of how days go. Her barista didn’t spill hot coffee on her blouse, her car hadn’t broken down and she wasn’t late to work so her day wasn’t all that bad….but then again, the hot barista hadn’t given Clarke her number either and she could feel the start of a migraine coming on. So yeah. Not good, not bad. Kinda just cruising in the middle in terms of how days go.

Until she hit a guy with her car of course.

It was an insane hour on a Saturday morning, and Clarke was driving into the art studio she worked for. (Student loans didn’t pay themselves, so for about the next 209 years, she was going to be stuck trying to earn money on her weekends. Just so she could eat something with more nutrition than instant ramen and keep the lights on in her apartment.) When she came up to a red light, she slowed to a stop and took the opportunity to take a long scalding sip of the coffee the hot barista had given her this morning. Hoping the caffeine would wake her up after her late night finishing up assignments for school, she takes another long sip.

A car honking behind her makes her roll her eyes and and put her coffee back down (extra slow) into the middle console.

“I can see the green light you nitwit.” She mutters under her breath, purposefully taking a long time to accelerate. (Sue her. She hates impatient people and loves being passive aggressive).

Just as she is about to put her foot down further on the pedal, a random man steps out from in between two cars and walks directly in front of her car. Shrieking, Clarke slams her foot on the break. Her hands come up to cover her mouth when the impact of the car sends the man over her windscreen.

“Holy shit.” She says, wrestling with her seatbelt to get out of the car.

She can already see a crowd of people stopping on the sidewalk and staring.

Don’t just stand there gawking and taking pictures! She wishes she could yell at them all.

Seeing the man lying on the ground with his eyes closed, Clarke quickly rushes around the side of the car.

She kneels beside him, “Oh my god! I’m so sorry! You just suddenly stepped in front of my car and I had no time to stop! Please don’t be dead!”

The man’s long groan makes her stop babbling. His eyes blink open and he looks directly at her. Clarke takes in the sight of his curly hair, and the dark coat he’s wearing. He doesn’t look like the type of person to step in front of a car… but then again what type of person does?

“Ow.” He says, blinking a few times to try to clear the fogginess in his head. Clarke shakes herself out of her thoughts and leans forwards over his body. She pulls one of his eyes open further, checking his pupils for any signs that he has a concussion.

“Uhhhh….” The man looks at her in confusion.

“Don’t worry, I’m pre-med.” She says, letting go of his eyelids, satisfied that he isn’t showing any of the early signs of a concussion.

“Is that supposed to make me feel better? You just hit me with your car.”

Clarke bristles.

“You’re the one that stepped so suddenly into oncoming traffic.”

“…Touchè.”

Clarke looks up from him as he closes his eyes and over to the small crowd that has formed. She scans through them, checking to see if any of them thought to call an ambulance. She lets out a sigh of relief when she sees that one woman has.

“Sir?” She asks, turning back towards the man. He still has his eyes closed.

“Bellamy.”

“What?”

“My name. It’s Bellamy Blake. I figured you probably wanted to know the name of the idiot you hit with your car.”

Clarke laughs, putting her hand on his shoulder. He opens his eyes at the contact, looking over at her.

“Well, Bellamy Blake, I’m Clarke Griffin. The asshole that hit you with a car.”

Bellamy smiles at her a little loopily. He lifts his arm to shake her hand.

“Pleasure to meet you.”

When he puts his arm back down, Clarke leans forwards to grab at his wrist.

“Is it okay if I check your pulse Bellamy? I need to know if your heart is beating okay.”

“Go ahead.” He says, looking up at the sky.

Clarke lifts his arm towards her and pulls back the sleeve of his coat. She puts her fingers on his pulse and begins to count to herself. After a moment, she stops counting.

“Okay…I think your pulse is fine. A little fast, but then again you did just get hit by a car so that’s probably just due to the….” she trails off, her eyes catching site of the familiar cursive writing of her tattoo,

“…shock.” She finishes, eyes glued to the edges of his tattoo.

Without warning him, Clarke pulls his arm closer to her and pushes the sleeve of his jacket up to his elbow.

“What are you-” Bellamy starts, lifting his head up to get a better view.

She drops his arm and grabs at the sleeve of her sweater, pulling it up to her elbow also.

She holds out her arm to him, showing him the matching tattoo she has inked there.

“…Everything is more beautiful because we are doomed.” He reads quietly.

His eyes flit back up to her face, seeming to take her in all at once. He opens his mouth to speak but Clarke beats him to it.

“The Iliad? Really? You’re such a nerd.”

He smiles at her smugly.

“Yeah but you recognised the quote.”

“What if I had googled it?”

“Something tells me that you didn’t have to google.”

“That something would be the concussion.” She deadpans.

Bellamy’s smile turns into a full blown grin and he starts to laugh. Clarke smiles as well, loving the warmth that his gaze is spreading through her chest.

So maybe she was wrong. This day turned out to be a pretty good one as days go. (Especially since the strange man she hit with her car turned out to be a pretty extraordinary).

-Fin-

[captnbarnesrogers]

You’re My Strong Soldier

Pairing: Bucky x Reader, some OC (Alexei Petrov) for ya bc I know nothing

Warnings: Uhhhh violence, Bucky hits a child like once, BLOOD, talks of Bucky’s past, angst, not much really, this is pretty much just fluff

Summary: Reader is pregnant and is asked to stay off the missions for her own good and to work from home. Bucky comes back from a really tough mission with Steve involving some kids being captured by HYDRA and starts to question whether he’s going to be good for his kid or not.

RUSSIAN TRANSLATIONS (idk if they’re accurate, they were googled hahah): моя принцесса = My princess Где Вы такин' я, ребенок? = Where are you taking me, kid? Моей семье, господину Барнсу = To my family, Mister Barnes Настолько хороший из Вас, чтобы присоединиться к нам, Зимнему Солдату = So nice of you to join us, Winter Soldier возлюбленный = Sweetheart Я люблю вас так много, мою королеву = I love you so much

“I’m going now, моя принцесса.” Bucky whispers behind you as he put his warm hand on your baby bump,

“Did it have to be today?” you frown,

“I’m afraid so, doll.”

“But today’s the day we find out…” you looked at him with soft eyes, trying to understand, “I- I thought we’d have more time, that’s all.”

“I know, I know but you know how it is, sometimes we just gotta get in immediately.”

“I understand, I mean I should, I’ve only been out of the job for 5 months.” You laugh softly, looking down at your growing belly,

“I gotta get going,” he says looking down at his communication device, “I love you, doll, I’ll see you in a couple of days, okay?” you nodded and he kisses you a sweet goodbye.

That was five days ago. You should’ve been used to it because in this business you knew ‘a couple of days’ could’ve been 2 days, a week, or never and it was the never part you were afraid of. Bucky was unpredictable. No matter how long you’d both been together, whether it’d had been together as S.H.I.E.L.D’s most dangerous and notorious fighting pair or together as a couple, playing house when there was time. He was unpredictable. His every move was unpredictable. But you loved him regardless and you believed you would love him for the rest of your lives, no matter what would happen.

You were getting bigger every day and although he was with you most of the time, he was still missing out as his focus was somewhere else. He did try though. He wanted to give you all the attention and love you deserved but at the same time he wanted to take out all of the possible threats that could cross paths with his family. He knew that you were entirely capable of protecting herself and the kid but he still wanted to make your safety his priority.

Bucky’s mission with Steve and Sam was held in Russia. Some children were captured by HYDRA to create some sort of group of child soldiers or manipulators if you will. Just like Bucky, they were brainwashed and were forced to do what their capturers wanted and that was to kill. Their targets would fall for the story of the child needing help, they would then be led to an isolated zone and killed by HYDRA agents.

A child had come up to him, asking for help and he knew where this was heading.

“Steve, I’ve got one.” Bucky says through his earpiece,

“You sure you wanna do this, Buck?”

“I’m sure,” he replies, following the small child, “Где Вы такин' я, ребенок?”

“Моей семье, господину Барнсу.” They make their way to a dark, large warehouse,

“Careful, Buck.” He hears through his earpiece,

“Don’t worry about me, Cap, I’ve got th- “

“Настолько хороший из Вас, чтобы присоединиться к нам, Зимнему Солдату.” Bucky quickly recognised the voice,

“Alexei Petrov.”

“You remember, Soldier.” He laughs, his Russian accent thick against his English. Alexei was the one to give him orders the last time his brain was washed, “It’s been a long time, eh?”

“Too long.” They circled each other, tension growing, “What do you want?”

“Simple.” He stops and smirks, “To kill you.” He takes out a gun from his belt and shoots at Bucky but Bucky dodges his shots, “Just give it up, soldier! You’re going to die today!”

“Surely not.” Bucky begins to fire at Alexei, targeting his shoulder,

“That hurt, Soldier, that really, really hurt.” Suddenly the small child tries to attack him but Bucky’s reflexes tell him to slap him away and he does so. He looks at the child lying on the ground unconscious, blood dripping from his small nose.

“Did that feel good, soldier?” Alexei asks, bleeding into the cold concrete, “Did you miss being able to kill?”

“I will never miss being part of that life.” Bucky says as he kicks Alexei unconscious. Bucky grabs the handgun from his belt, points it just above Alexei’s nose, towards his forehead and pulls the trigger unsympathetically, “Never.” He looks down at his metal hand and begins to grow dizzy. The blood from the child had splattered onto his memory filled hand. The arm that had already caused so much damage to the world. The sinful arm that killed who he was ordered to kill. He starts to remember his past again.

“Buck, is it all clear?” he hears in his earpiece,

“I- There’s n-,” it takes him a second to remember where he is and why he’s there, “Yes all clear.”

“Let’s get those other kids.” Bucky picks up the small boy from before and runs, determined to finish the mission but not so excited to go home, just yet.

Back at your apartment you lay on the bed, that Bucky and yourself would usually share, alone. 9 days, 21 hours and 45 minutes, but who was counting, right? Definitely you. You missed him like crazy and you were worried, that also meant the baby could feel your worry. That was not exactly the healthiest of things, especially in your situation.

“Please come home, Buck, we’re waiting for you, please, please, please.” You pleaded to whoever was listening,

“I’m here, doll.” Like an answered prayer, you lift your head to see that it wasn’t just a wishing hallucination but the pair of blue eyes you’d been waiting to see for the last 9 days,

“Bucky!” you exclaim,

“Heya, возлюбленный.” He whispers, kissing your head,

“Your late, Buck. 7 Days late.”

“I know, doll but the mission took longer than expected, Hydra really did a number on this one.” You quickly notice that his eyes kept landing upon his metal hand,

“Bucky… Is there something you’re not telling me?” His mind had drifted once again, but this time his ocean blue eyes were filled with sorrow and disappointment. Disappointment? “James?”

“What?” he asks confusingly,

“Is everything okay?” Bucky looks at you with tear-brimmed eyes,

“I- I hit- I hit a child.” He says quietly,

“Bucky, oh, Bucky.” You catch him as he directly falls into your arms, sobbing at his confession,

“I mean; I didn’t want to but he- he- “

“Shhh, I know you didn’t mean to but it was something you had to do. I know you, Bucky Barnes, the real you. You wouldn’t hurt a fly… Unless that fly was attacking Steve Rogers.” You chuckle lightly, poking fun at the two,

“I know, Y/N but I saw the blood on my hand and everything just came crashing down.” Bucky sniffled, his head laying on your chest, “What if I hurt it?”

“Hurt what, baby? Your arm?”

“No, Y/N, t-the baby, what if it hates that it’s dad is some ex-soldier killer freak with a meta-“ you cut him off,

“Do you love me?”

“Yes! God, yes! What kind of question is that? With no doubt in my whole body, doll.”

“Good,” you smile “and I love you James Buchanan Barnes. This kid will love you because I know, with no doubt in my whole body, of course, that you will give this child everything you can and beyond.”

“You really think so, Y/N?” you nod at his question,

“I know so, you’re my strong soldier and you’ll fight for us, always, I know it.” His tense look begins to relax, “You know just how much I love that arm, don’t you, Buck?” you smirk, filling images into his head.

“You’re pregnant, stop it.”

“So? We won’t hurt the baby.” You explain, voice slick with cruel intentions,

“Y/N, let’s have a nap.” He suggests, laughing,

“I’m not saying no to that, I’ve gotten no sleep without you, Bucky.”

“That’s not exactly healthy for my baby.” Concern surrounding his tone.

He wraps his arm around you as you both lay on your sides, spooning. The warmth of Bucky’s body made you feel safe, he was home and now, you felt at home. Home felt warm, home wasn’t empty without the presence of its missing member. Home was love. Love with James Barnes.

“I hope he has your eyes.” You whisper,

“I love your nose and your lips, I hope it-“ his eyes widen at sudden realisation, catching on to what you’d just revealed, he lifts himself up as you turn to face him, “what did you just say?”

“Do you think he’ll find what you and Steve have?” you grinned at him as his eyes were once again brimmed with tears but this time they were tears of happiness, “I mean best friend wis-“

“Holy shit, we’re having a- a-“ you nod at his excitement,

“Yes we are.” He kisses you deeply, cherishing the moment you had both shared.

“Я люблю вас так много, мою королеву.”

 A/N: THANK YOU FOR READING!!!!! Make sure you request some stuff, ask questions and give me some feedback here! THIS IS MY MASTERLIST MY LIL BOOKWORMS <3