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#things that hurt and were hard vs me reading books under my desk. and i honestly didnt even get it that bad as a kid bc so many of my
toytulini · 3 years
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u know what actually im just gonna say it, those posts that are like "if you can read x long fictional fandom thing you can read y long non fiction political commentary or dry long book or book about incredibly heavy and hard topics uwu" annoy the shit out of me. like i get the point theyre trying to make, but like. the insinuation that you can read this thing bc youre able to read this other VERY DIFFERENT thing in this like grating, condescending tone just pisses me off. not even touching on the fact that i know i personally struggle to even work up the executive function to read Fun Fictional Things i WANT to get into, its like...a Thing, im pretty sure, in ADHD that it is significantly Harder to focus on smth you are not actively interested in and sometimes obsessed with. like. i could tear through an entire book series im obsessed with in like 2 weeks but i would cry for hours every night trying to accomplish math homework that "should" take like 10 minutes, or finish a book that was assigned reading that you Hate and Cannot maintain focus on. Like, no, being able to focus on and finish one thing doesnt actually mean that you can accomplish the same with another Very Different Thing of the same length.
And like, thats not to say that we should Only ever read fun lighthearted fiction things and not have to focus on learning important info, about history and politics and systemic oppression, but like, can yall find a way to talk about it with condescendingly acting like engaging with these two things is exactly the same and that ppl who engage w the fun lighthearted accessible fiction thing are choosing the fun thing out of malice? like idk just recognize that it does require a different energy and state of mind to engage with that sort of thing.
#toy txt post#like i can hyperfocus on certain interests and push through the slog of material that isnt accessible to me as someone not in that field of#study Sometimes on Some Topics that i know other ppl Absolutely would not be able to do. but i can keep trying and ramming my brain against#it even tho i struggle to undersrand bc im mega interested in it like that time that i just fucking. read that paper on coral metabolisms#for fun. sometimes i can activate an interest in smth and hyperfocus my way through the inaccessibility of the text or even just the topic!#but i cant always do that. and i cant do that for every topic. and so sometimes trying to read smth. even if its very important! is just#like. nothing. nothing is entering my brain no matter how hard i mash my head against this wall. if i dont take my adhd meds honestly tryin#to force myself to focus in that way will just straight up give me a headache and make me go to sleep.#idk just the vibes i get from those posts...same energy as all the adults who yelled at me as a child for not trying hard enough to focus o#things that hurt and were hard vs me reading books under my desk. and i honestly didnt even get it that bad as a kid bc so many of my#interests at the time that i got obsessed with was BOOKS. if i had been like that about video games or movies or even comics i know damn#well that it would have been seen as me actively being like. manipulative when i said that i struggled to focus on homework but then turned#around and was able to focus on playing a video game for 12 hrs! and i know that def now bc i struggle to read books these days and instead#i watch tv or play video games which isnt as respectable.#and like im not saying that we should all let ourselves get fully lost in fun fiction media with no criticisms of it etc okay like i#i know thats not good for any of us and its not helpful and can lead to some Damaging Discourse but god damn. try not to sound so...#'shame on you for not being able to force your brain to focus on hard things when you can so easily get your brain to focus on fun things'#i do not control the focus!! and even when i do it is with GREAT EFFORT to focus on things that havent just. caught me#idk just recognize that it takes more effort. and that sometimes the reason ppl arent engaging w that but they are w fun light things is co#all their mental energy is being expended on other things. and the fun thing doesnt take much
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nataliedanovelist · 3 years
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GF - The Sapling of His Labors
A Drifting Stars AU one-shot, in collaboration with @clownwry.
1st, 2nd, 4th.
~~~~~~~~~~
Ford hummed an old tune to himself as he worked on dinner. Rather than sitting in front of a fire-pit in the middle of nature, butchering food to make it edible, he was blessed to be standing in a humble kitchen with a stove, cabinets, counters, and everything. The only thing he didn’t have was a fridge or freezer, but that was okay. Ford worked calmly and at his own pace as he chopped up the onion, blinking the burning feeling away, and he used his knife to scoop the diced pieces of onion into the hot skillet, and it sizzled and immediately smelled good.
Ford smiled as he added the green bell pepper, and other delicious things from the garden, and then he gave the veggies and herbs a stir with his hand-carved wooden spoon. Estimating that dinner would be ready soon, he walked across the kitchen, through the living room with a fireplace, two rocking chairs, and a large homemade three-way desk with two chairs, and to the front door. 
The top half of the dutch door was already open, so he leaned against the bottom half of the door to watch his little girl run around with other kids her age, playing tag. “Mabel, honey, dinner!” He called. “Will you please bring some water when you come?”
“Okay!” Mabel called back cheerfully, and Ford trusted her to end the game soon and say goodnight to her friends as he went back to dinner.
The veggies were cooking well, so Ford threw some of Mabel’s special homemade butter into another pan, let it melt, and then he carefully laid two filleted fish down to cook.
The bottom half of the dutch door opened and Mabel came in with a bucket of water from their well. She grinned at the sight of him and sat the bucket down to use a ladle to pour some water into wooden cups. “Ms. Mahogany asked about you again.”
“Oh?” Ford raised an eyebrow at her, his smile still present.
“Yeah, I told her how just last night you told me you were lonely and only wanted someone to hold at night…”
Ford barked a laugh that Mabel joined in with, but she continued as she set the table. “Then she said her son is still single if…”
“Mabel, please!” Ford guffawed with rosy cheeks as he flipped the fish. “I wish you would stop trying to set me up with everyone in town.”
“But I’m a great matchmaker!”
“I know you are. Why not focus on someone else’s love-life?” Ford suggested as he began to plate the veggies.
“I don’t really care about everyone else’s love-life.” Mabel said with a shrug as she sat.
Ford snorted as he platted the fish on top of the veggies, one plate slightly smaller than the other.
“Well, not nearly as much as I care about you.” Mabel elaborated, and smiled sweetly at her uncle as he turned to set the food at the table. “I just want you to be happy, Grunkle Ford.”
The old man was a bit surprised by this, but he smiled softly and said, “I am happy, darling.” He sat the plates and himself down where they belonged, then patted his lap. “Come here.”
The girl didn’t hesitate to crawl into his lap and let him hug her. “I’ve got you.”
“Yeah, but imagine how much happier you’d be if you had me and a partner!” Mabel said optimistically.
Ford chuckled and brushed her shoulder-length hair with his six fingers. “Sweetie, I’m much happier now than I ever thought I would be.”
Mabel grinned at him and hugged him around the neck, allowing Ford to squeeze her gently and hug her back.
A little while later they sat by the fireplace, Ford in his rocking chair, and Mabel by his socked feet, propping her back against his leg as she knitted away. Ford used to tease her and wonder why he even built her a rocking chair, but once she explained she felt more comfortable against him, he let it go. Maybe next time they go to the store, he should trade fish for fabric so he can build a couch.
The eldest read a book out-loud while Mabel knitted, their favorite thing to do in the evening, when all they had for light was the fireplace and lanterns and the stars, but there were no stars tonight. Rain peacefully trickled down outside. They left the dutch door open to enjoy the smells and sounds and cool air, not a hint of a storm in sight.
Ford was enjoying the book, but not nearly as much as he enjoyed looking down at his beautiful girl. The sounds of her needles clicking as she worked, the way her brown eyes twinkled, the blush on her round cheeks, the shine in her hair. Ford had no idea what in the Multiverse he did to deserve her… No, he didn’t deserve her, but he was still grateful for her, and beyond happy he somehow managed to give her a happy life.
~~~~~~~~~~
Ford was very excited, too excited to let his little girl sleep in too much. True that he purposely got up early to get the eggs, milk the cow, and let the sheep out for her, but he decided to surprise her earlier rather than later, so he made her some pancakes and eggs, squeezed her some fresh orange juice, put a pretty flower on the tray for decoration, and tucked the present wrapped in parchment and card under his arm.
A soft knock alerted Mabel of company, and her door opening and a warm voice fully woke her up. “Mabel, honey,”
She grinned and sat up in her bed. Ford had no regrets. All his hard work was worth it for that smile. “Happy Birthday.”
Mabel was absolutely delighted by the sweet surprise, but a bit disheartened when she saw no plate for her uncle. She raised an eyebrow suspiciously at him, still too used to his bad habit of skipping meals so she could eat. Well, he didn’t have to do that anymore. “Grunkle Ford, where’s your breakfast?”
Ford smiled and chuckled. “Don’t worry, it’s all fixed and downstairs waiting for me.”
Mabel smiled again and said, “Why don’t you eat up here with me? Then I’ll open my present!”
Ford nodded. That seemed like an even better idea than eating separately. So Ford retrieved his mug of coffee and pancakes, and when he sat at the foot of Mabel’s bed, she opened the card. There was no glitter to decorate it with and the card wasn’t nearly as colorful as Mabel would have made it, but Ford still drew plenty of pretty pictures for her and wrote plenty of kind words, and more importantly, he made it just for her.
Mabel grinned and thanked him for the card, sitting by her nightstand and candle so she could see it every day, and then she tore into her present. She gasped happily and squealed at the gift. Mabel had seen Ford sew here and there, but she didn’t know this was what he was working on.
It was a large quilt. It had many different patches, some with colors, some with pictures of animals, one with a shooting star and one with a six-fingered hand. There were so many different patches that Mabel felt she could look and look without seeing every detail.
Ford rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “I asked everyone in town if they had scraps of cloth. I wasn’t sure what to get you, but you deserve something nice, and…”
“Grunkle Ford, I love it!” And Mabel let her new quilt fall on her lap so she could hug him tightly around the waist. “Thank you, thank you, thank you! I’ll use it forever! I love you, thank you!”
Ford chuckled and hugged her back tightly. “Y-You’re welcome.”
It wasn’t much, but it was better than what he could have done for her before.
~~~~~~~~~~
Ford ran as fast as he could. He didn’t care how sharply branches pricked his face or how many times he stubbed his toe on a rock or tree root. The screaming rang in his ears. Mabel needed him.
He was grateful to find Mabel up in a tree, safe, but not for long. At the base of the tree was a giant black bear, roaring and growling and scratching the tree. It wouldn’t be long until the bear decided to try to climb. Ford gritted his teeth and allowed instincts to take over, animal vs animal.
Ford threw a rock and it hit the bear on the neck, making it forget the human cub in the tree and turn to the adult to roar warningly. Then Ford shot his crossbow and it hit the bear right in the shoulder, close to the chest, but not quite enough to kill it, only to anger it. Mabel screamed for Ford to run away, to get away, but Ford stood his ground as the bear charged at him and he rolled out of the way just in time, then shot the bear again, this time hitting it’s back.
The bear turned and roared at Ford, and he was prepared to pull the knife out of his boot and do some real damage, tired of giving warnings that the bear wasn’t hearring. But then something made everyone freeze. A small wheezing roar. A squeak from a cub. The little baby black bear ran out from the bushes and to its mother, who nuzzled the cub with her nose and stood protectively. Ford lowered his crossbow and nodded. Mabel must have accidentally stumbled across the cub, must have gotten too close, and the mother was being overprotective.
The mother roared once more at the humans and ran off into the woods with her cub, taking the arrows lodge in her with her. Well, good. That’s what she gets for going near Ford’s niece. Speaking of…
Ford turned to the tree and looked up at the frightened girl. “Mabel, are you hurt?”
“N-No. I’m okay.” Mabel looked at the spot where the bears disappeared and bit her lip. “I… I didn’t even see the baby one…”
Ford smiled and nodded. “It’s alright. You’ll find parents are quite protective of their kids. Can you climb down?”
Mabel nodded and carefully made her way down the tree. When she was about halfway down, she leaped into Ford’s arms and they hugged each other tightly, the crossbow still in Ford’s hand.
“Oh, Mabel, I was so worried…”
“I’m sorry, I’m really sorry…”
“Shh, hey, it’s alright. I’m not mad.”
“I thought you… I thought…” Mabel mumbled into his shoulder, her grip on his coat extremely tight.
“Hey, hey, it’s alright. I’ve got you.” Ford muttered to her as he walked them home. “I’ve got you.”
~~~~~~~~~~
Ford walked home from the ocean, smiling with the large net filled with fish on his back. Mabel was with the sheep, as usual, and smiled and waved when she saw his safe return. The leaves were changing colors and the air was getting more comfortable and crisp. Soon winter would be with them, and rather than fish for money, Ford planned to build music boxes and carve toys, a brilliant idea Mabel had when she noticed how he missed tinkering and building. He enjoyed fishing, but it wasn’t like the old lab work that made him proud.
The next day, like always, Ford walked home and saw Mabel among the sheep, but this time she was chatting with a boy her age. Ford had seen the boy before, Mabel labeling him as a friend, but the old man couldn’t help but wonder if he should be putting money away for a small wedding, a thought that made his blood boil and his heart swell at the same time.
~~~~~~~~~~
Ford gave the soup another stir before ladling it into a bowl. Poor Mabel sat on the newly built couch, wrapped in her quilt, close to the fire, her cheeks and nose cherry red and dark circles under her eyes as she sneezed and coughed. Ford wasn’t as worried for her as he normally would be; it was just a bad cold. She would be alright. 
Weirdly enough, Mabel’s brain had decided to call it quits and she was nothing more than a rag doll, barely interactive and aware of her surroundings, which was fine by Ford. He could take care of her and the house just fine. He smiled softly and sat next to her, holding out a spoonful of warm soup for her. “Here you are, my dear. This will make you feel better.”
Shakily Mabel ate the bite she was given, but it burned and made her cough roughly. Ford rubbed her back and stirred the soup to cool it down a little. “That's it, easy does it. There we go, I’m sorry, sweetie.”
The second time was the charm; Mabel was able to swallow a second spoonful of warm soup no problem. She actually made a weak smile, then muttered to Ford, “Thanks Daddy,” and coughed roughly into her quilt. She patiently waited for her next spoonful, unaware of what she had done to Ford.
She had said it so innocently, so quietly… Was it possible, that in her weakened state, Mabel thought she was back home with her father? Even though she seemed out of it, she did seem aware of where they were; a few minutes ago, when Ford was making the soup, she had asked if the sheep were put away. And she had thanked Ford for making the soup when he first started on dinner. So, maybe, there was a small possibility that Mabel knew exactly who she was talking to, and she articulated with a title that felt fitting to her.
Ford smiled with a bit lip and held out the spoon filled with soup for her. “Y-You’re welcome.”
He smiled sympathetically as she sniffed again, her poor sinuses turned against her. But then she sniffed again, louder, and Ford began to notice it sounded different…
He also began to notice he was sore. And lying down. And wrapped up, like he was tucked in for bed.
Ford was pulled from his dreams and was sluggishly half-awake, his eyes still closed, and he bought his body some time to gather some strength by paying attention to his blind surroundings.
He could hear and feel a fire going. He was lying in a sleeping bag on the ground, and he could tell there were other things keeping him warm and wrapped up. Some damp cloth was on his forehead. And he could hear crying.
Ford forced his eyes open slowly and he discovered someone had taken his glasses off. He forced himself to work with his blurry vision and he sat up a little, leaning on his arm for support in search of his niece. She sat a few feet away, in a tight bundle. If Ford had to guess, she was hugging her knees and hiding her face in her arms and knees. “Mabel…”
She lifted her head up quickly, but then hid her face again, looking away from him and wiping her face dry with the sleeves of her coat. 
“Hey, no,” Ford said softly, taking the damp cloth off his forehead. “None of that, you don’t ever have to hide anything from me. What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”
“N-No,” Mabel cleared her throat and finally turned to look at him; he was a little disheartened to see her trying to smile and still hide what was bothering her. “I’m okay. H-How do you feel? Tea is almost ready.” And she scooted closer to the fire on her knees to check on the teapot.
Ford sighed tiredly, his lips tight to try to keep her from hearing it. “Mabel…”
“Oh, here!” Mabel reached into a pocket of her uncle’s backpack and pulled out his glasses for him. “I thought I’d better take them off you so your face wouldn’t hurt.”
Ford smiled and accepted the visual aid. “Ah, thank you.” He slipped his glasses on and more clues came to his senses.
They were in the middle of the desert. Well, not entirely in the middle, it looked like there was a jungle a few yards behind them. Ford had also been blanketed with sweaters for extra warmth in the cold desert night. Everything seemed well in order and normal, except when Ford looked at his poor little girl. Her hair was a mess, frizzled and… Ford recognized that hairstyle. His hair often looked like that after he grabbed at it too roughly and tried to pull his hair out. There were dark circles under her eyes, eyes that didn’t sparkle. That legitimately scared Ford.
“Mabel…”
“Good! Tea is ready.” Mabel turned away from him again, refusing to look at him as she pulled out a cup for her uncle and poured him some hot drink. “Here, it’ll make you feel better.”
Ford accepted the drink and sat up fully. “Thank you.” He sipped it and watched Mabel carefully. She didn’t pour herself a cup. Or bring out the water canteen for something else to drink. Instead she held her knees and watched the fire dance. He opened his mouth to ask her if she was alright, but she beat him to it.
“How are you feeling? Does anything hurt? H-How’s your neck?”
“My neck?” Ford touched his throat, a bit confused, and answered, “I feel fine. Nothing hurts. Why?”
“We were ambushed. You got shot. You… You had a bad fever and wouldn’t wake up.” Mabel, still refusing to look at him, held out a dart to him that had been lying on the sand. “Here. I thought you might wanna study it.”
Ford adjusted his glasses and held the dart. It was quite long, but very skinny, and it had a red bull point at the top, like a sewing needle, but Ford recognized the dart. “Interesting. These are Hummie darts. They’re sold through the dimensions, they’re very useful for bounty hunting. See, the top here is filled with poison, just enough to render the body useless and to also hypnotize the target in a deep, dream-filled sleep. Oftentimes the dreams are the victim’s happiest memories or goals, so they won’t try to wake up. It’s also very fascinating because the side-effects are next to none, this makes these darts ideal if you want to bring someone in for questioning or for next-to-perfect condition.”
But Mabel wasn’t listening. Her eyes were still on the fire, she was still holding her knees, but her mind was elsewhere. Ford watched her mournfully and tried to remember what had happened.
Oh. Right.
They were in a different dimension than this one. They had been laughing and playing in the woods, unaware of who they were attracting. By the time Ford hoisted a laughing girl on his shoulders, a dart barely missed him and it hit a tree, causing him to run while Mabel shot pop-rocks with her slingshot. Ford can now remember feeling a tiny prick by his neck. He had hoped Mabel had accidentally pinched or pulled some skin on his neck, but she was horrified to have let a dart get past her. Ford managed to stop running and put Mabel down safely, shaking his head and even slapping himself to try to stay awake and attentive, but just as he was sharing a plan with her, he fell on his knees and collapsed into the grass, the last thing he heard was Mabel’s desperate please to be okay. Not to stay awake, not to help, but to be okay.
Ford put the dart and his tea down on the ground. “Oh, Mabel… You were amazing. Absolutely amazing! You saved us. You saved my life.”
“M-Maybe if I hadn’t asked you to play with me…”
“They were relentless. I’m glad we had fun and played.”
Mabel held herself tighter and turned her head away so it was out of sight. That broke Ford’s heart. What he wouldn’t give for her to just look at him. Had he done something? Had he scared her? He had heard that while under the influence of the Hammie darts, the body is as useless as a ragdoll, but… Oh. Maybe that had scared her. Mabel had no way of knowing what the darts did, she had no idea what kind of poison they were filled with. Did she refuse to look at Ford because when she did all she saw was the shadow of a dead man?
“Mabel,” Ford croaked longingly, and he opened his arms. “Please come here.”
Mabel was trembling. She sniffed again and swallowed a sob down.
She was a Pines, after all. She was going to be stubborn. So Ford scooted himself and the sleeping bag and pile of sweaters. He carefully began to scoop her up, but she finally broke and turned and hugged him around the neck, sobbing into his shoulder and allowing him to hold her close and burrow her in his arms and sweaters and sleeping bag.
“Shh, shh, it’s alright now.” Ford petted her hair and closed his eyes, giving everything he had into making her feel better. “I’m okay, I swear. You did an incredible job.”
“I thought… I thought…” Mabel croaked and swallowed to try to communicate better. “Y-Your eyes… they rolled! Into… y-y-you looked d…” And she choked and sobbed and held him so tightly her fingers ached, but she didn’t care.
Now Ford had never heard of that side-effect before. “Oh, Mabel, honey…”
“I k-k-know you’re okay now… I know… but I th-th-thought I was g-gonna lose you!” Mabel cried out, her throat sounding like it was going to tear in half. 
“I’m sorry…” Ford cooed to her and adjusted her so she laid by his heart and he felt her hands. Holy Moses, she was so cold. “I’m so sorry. I’m not going anywhere, I promise. I love my little starshine too much to be anywhere else.”
Mable hiccuped a weak giggle and she nuzzled her cheek against his chest. “I love you, too, D-Grunkle Ford.”
Yup. Ford wasn’t shedding tears alongside her. No. A raindrop must have fallen on his cheek. On a cloudless night. Yeah, that was it.
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xxrainstormxx · 4 years
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Save it for the Doctor. Spencer Reid x Reader.
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(A/N: this is based off a writing prompt. "You're... beautiful." "And you're concussed") Word count; 2,475 Part 2 (edit: my pleas for requests for stories are not reaching people so I will beg here. If you want a oneshot I’ll write it. Prompt or no prompt.)
I had heard a lot about the recent murders. I even had seen a few almost survivors on my mom's operation table, yet somehow I was wrapped up in the middle of it. Smack in the middle. No normal citizen even knew the FBI was investigating the murders and yet I was being interrogated. The man who sat in front of me was just mean, he wore a serious look and his eyes never moved from the narrow eyed glare he gave anyone who walked by and especially gave me. I was happy to cooperate, but the minute I was under fire I was fed up and wanted a lawyer. I was no killer, I had no upper body strength to move a dead body and believe me, I would know how much a dead body weighs thanks to my mom training me. I was a tired college student trying to get my damn degree so I could move on with my fucking life. And I was not in the mood to be interrogated when I could be working on my thesis. The mean man, Agent Hotchner I believe was just staring. I guess waiting for me to break or some shit like that? I don't know. I wasn't talking first. I didn't care anymore and this resulted in a match of silently staring waiting for the other one to speak. This went on for what felt like an hour but was probably closer to at least three minutes, I just sighed, "I cave." I sighed muttering curses as I shifted in my seat. "Go on, ask your questions I have a thesis to write and I would like to go home to continue it," I reluctantly urged on. He leaned forward in triumph I think as he demanded answers from me. "Where were you the night of Synthia Robbin's disappearance (Y/N)?" he began dwelling on the poor girls name. It made me frown, she was a 13 year old girl, a child, and she was gone. Kidnapped and found dead. It made me sick to think of what could happen to her. "So that's what this is about?" I hissed disgusted with the accusation "I was at the library with Emmalin." the mention of my sister's name made him further darken. "Your sister, correct?" he inquired. I rolled my eyes, "Yuduh" I sounded sitting back. "All your time is accounted for?" he continued leaving me puzzled for a moment. "There were maybe ten minutes in between where she left to find a book." I murmured unsure if the truth was the right thing to say as he stood and pulled out a file and threw it on the table making me flinch. "What about the night of Chris Bennidict?" he asked "A s-sports game" I stuttered "A baseball game I think. Rockies vs Rangers." I said shaking a little as he threw down that files some of the pictures falling out of the boy, shot twice. "Eunice Quiet, Quiara Basson, Basen Unice, Lynch Gryse, and Philip Jence!" he got  louder with every file he threw at me. "You were near by every single scene and you fit most of our profile" he concluded the pictures that fell out made me physically sick. Children, those poor babies. I sobbed and turned away gagging, he wasn't convinced it was real but I knew it was and up came the vomit that was caught in my throat.
I had no doubt I fit their profile but I worked part time at a daycare. Children were my life line, and it mad me sick to see them hurt. He answered a call and left the room leaving me there to cry over the pictures. A brunette woman walked in and sighed taking me out of the handcuffs attaching me to the bolted down table. "Come on sweetheart. We'll get someone to clean up that." she sighed very tired, I wanted to know why. They brought me out to the main area of the station and sat me down. They slowly cuffed me to the desk and I cried softly. I looked across the station to see Emmalin "Emmy!" I called but was ignored causing me to frown. So I shut up and listen to whatever raving was in my defense, "My baby sib? A murderer?" she asked "well... it isn't that hard to believe," she said making my jaw drop. "They've always been a little too obsessed with the idea of death." A lie, I had an emo phase and so did she, "Introverted" well partially true. "and well she creeps out her friends," she finished causing me to stand suddenly, "Liar!" I shouted "You fucking liar!" I cried ignoring the pain and stress on my wrist the hand cuff was causing. I was now a 45 degree angle due to the cuffs keeping me in place. She seemed genuinely shocked i was there. "Why are you trying to pin this on me. Your own sister!b You were with me everywhere we went and those bodies were found. Why aren't you being questioned too? Did you lie? Did you say I was the only one there?" I screamed as I was sat down. She hissed at me and most of the agents took notice. Agent Prentiss, the nice brunette sighed and walked to my now horrible sister and asked her to follow her into a different interrogation room. It felt like hours that I was sat there, and a curly haired man was sat in front of me just reading, or what I thought was faking, really bad faking. "Why are you even sitting here if you're just going to pretend to read?" I asked the "doctor". My mother was a doctor and I didn't believe this boy was any kind of doctor. I had gotten to know his name as Doctor Reid and I wasn't allowed to call him an agent so I had no other choice. He just looked at me thrown for a moment before shaking his head "I'm not pretending" He stated as he shifted "No one can read that fuckin fast ya damn liar" I muttered not necessarily hostile just a little vexed. "I can. Did you know that our unconscious minds can process sixteen bits of information per second? Our conscious minds, however, can process sixteen million?" I sat back unimpressed "You are... absolutely insane" I laughed "Insane, perhaps but I'm not being accused of murder." he stated, and my smile that i worked so hard to get disappeared "You think I did it too." I muttered, it was meant to come as a question but instead it came as a statement. He shook his head "Not fully, while you do supposedly fit the profile our profile, our unsub wouldn't inject themselves into the investigation. The one part that doesn't fit" he said sitting back and crossing his legs turning to the board filled with evidence, and all those pictures that made me sick sat right next to the happy photos of the children in their school uniforms smiling big. I tried to focus on those "Well maybe your profile is wrong, cause this is sick." I hissed "(Y/N), you're here most likely because you were in the wrong places at the wrong times. Kids being picked up and murdered minutes apart from each other, while you were out with your sister at those locations? It's not very probable."
I just sighed knowing he was probably right "There aren't many coincidences when it comes to murder" he stated "Out of uh... curiosity what is an unsub? No normal person knows that is." I muttered as I tried to avoid the board, the thought of being in those places, not helping those kids, not even having a clue what was happening made me sick. "Unknown Subject" Dr. Reid said mumbling "Why aren't you uh... looking at the board. I thought you'd be proud of your work." He said as if to egg me on. I rolled my eyes "Those pictures make me sick." I muttered "I work at a daycare, it's my job to protect kids not watch them get hurt. I don't wanna see dead fucking children!" I shouted realizing I probably sounded fucking crazy and definitely like a kill. I hung my head in shame. "I know... I know it isn't fair to blame myself for what happened to those kids, but being in the places of the crime, the same night it happened, it makes me feel like I could have and should have done something. Something other than just sit there and wonder." I whispered "Yeah I feel guilty now but, not of what you think" I whispered looking to the board once more focusing on the pictures of the children when they were alive. "Sweet innocent babies... Never done anything to anyone. Probably were crying for their mom." I whimpered at the thought "They didn't deserve any of what happened" I looked away once more thinking about the mothers. "Moms.... Their moms" he stood up as if he had a damn epiphany nearly knocking me backwards in the chair. "Morgan, it's not an attack on the children it's an attack on their mothers." He said starting to put of pictures of older women. "think about it. They all went to the same cafe every day. It wasn't the day care, so it can't be (Y/N). They wouldn't see much of the parents" he enthused writing things down that I could not decipher because his hand writing was absolute shit. "But wouldn't that just give them more reason? They think these women are bad mom's for working instead of taking care of the child, and wants to teach them a lesson?" making him shake his head "That's stupid, if they wanted to make them suffer they'd just kill the women themselves, it'd be much more efficient and wouldn't lead to them doing the one thing they would dread doing!" he said circling one name on the board. Emmalin. "That's also sexist. Women work, children can't go with. Why would I have a fucking problem with that" I shouted across the room. "Who fits the profile while also holding these sexist values." Reid stated more than asked pointing to Emma's name again. "Oh dear god." he sighed "But my sister isn't a murderer!" I cried. "She's connected to the murders... and she's made it clear she doesn't think women should work." Morgan stated and went to the interrogation room. "You are a life saver (Y/N)" Reid said kissing my cheek out of pure joy, and I slapped him as a natural instinct and turned red "Shit! I'm sorry! I'm not used to boys doing that if they aren't being creepy! But at the same time that was really fucking creepy" I yelped as he held his face and laughed "No it's fine. Got too excited to fix what felt like a huge mistake." he said, and when I say I turned red I mean red. This was the first time I'd seen him as a human. Not a super genius, not as an agent, not an asshole. Just a normal guy with pretty eyes, a good jaw line, soft hair, and the sweetest smile I had ever seen. The blush was apparently very clear on my (skin color) skin because he hummed and smiled "Did you know blushing is speculated to be caused by a sudden rush of adrenaline making our blood pump faster." I giggled a little "Is that why you're so flushed?" I asked as he blinked not understanding just how damn pink he was after that rant. "Guess so." he shrugged. the door opened and out came Emmalin and she grabbed a ceramic vase off a desk and slammed it down onto Reid's head and ran away quickly. He fell to the floor because it was a heavy fucking vase, and I freaked out as he hit his head on the desk on the way down.
"Shit!" I yelled as half of them chased my very obviously guilty sister and I sat in shock as two of his friends rushed over to help him. Morgan uncuffed me and I blinked "Spencer?" Agent Jareau asked worried and I sat down next to him sitting him up and grabbing a water bottle slashing it on his face "Do not fall asleep." I said firmly "You could very well have a concussion." I said as an ambulance arrived quickly, he was cearly not feeling good because of the way that he was acting. I was worried about how sick he looked. He threw up half way to the hospital so I was told. I went with because I didn't feel safe with my sister on the run and an Agent in the hospital. Well I guess he wasn't an agent he was a doctor. The doctor, not Spencer, came out and i stood with the other two very worried. "He'll be fine. He has a mild concussion." as i thought "but he's awake, and on some pain medication. I take it you all know the situation and his limitations in the field?" he asked and Morgon and Jareau nodded "You can go back to see him now" he said and stepped aside "come on" Jareau said quietly to me "oh. Agent, I don't think he'd want to see me." I said quietly. "I'm sure he would like to know you came. You won't make a very good profiler if you can't even tell that Reid enjoys your company. And call me JJ, it makes it easier," she said giggling and pulled me right back with her and Morgan. "Hey man" Morgan started "What happened?" he muttered groaning in pain. "You got hit with a vase, took a pretty sweet fall, and got a concussion" JJ hummed arms crossed as she leaned on the wall. "Shit." he muttered making me giggle. "Oh hey!" he said when he saw me. "I want water, and jello" he muttered making small lip smacking sounds. "Morgan and I will get it" JJ laughed leaving me in a very awkward situation. "So umm.." I began before being cut off. "You know.. You're beautiful" he said staring at me causing me to snort "And you're concussed." I laughed shaking my head "Well, a concussion based on the severity doesn't necessarily affect your judgement of a person especially if it's a first time thing. I thought you were beautiful long before I was concussed but you were a suspect. Suspects being beautiful, hard to comprehend sometimes." I laughed "You're a dumbass" I snorted "But I-" he blinked and i walked over pecking his lips. "How about a date sometime? I'll give you my number" I said quietly. "Yeah... okay..." he whispered. "A date."
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shaineybainey · 4 years
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“Noble Intentions”
Lab Rats [T]
The Lab Rats and Mighty Med teams face off with the greatest threat to humanity yet: The Incapacitator, a supervillain bent on becoming the most powerful in the planet. …Which makes things super awkward for Leo, considering that their newest nemesis is his father. AU. Lab Rats vs Mighty Med redux.
** DISCLAIMER: SEE CHAPTER ONE FOR DISCLAIMER **
tagging: @clockradio93 @vcnting @verified-dumbass @serpent-princess @weareoutofmaplesyrupdave @aaaaahhhhh1234 @lettersandwhiteroses @breanadaveport-mendel @cecespuffs @quimbionics @hollywoodendinq 
[ By the way, if anyone doesn’t like to be tagged anymore, just tell me through a DM. I appreciate the likes, but if the tagging annoys you, I’ll respectfully leave you out on the next one :) ]
TW: disturbing imagery, death of loved ones, panic triggers
V: Late Bloomer
Leo stirs, his whole body entirely too numb. He squints as his eyes sting from the flood of light shining all around him. He waits until the pain ebbs. Soon enough, he can make shapes, spot movements. But nothing is familiar.
Nothing except the overlapping Ms on the wall – one scarlet and one chrome.
“Leo? Leo, are you okay?” a shape – then a couple of shapes – approaches him. “How are you feeling?”
He withdraws from the faceless figure even though he recognizes the voice. “Chase?”
“Yes, Leo, it’s me,” the figure replies, but in Bree’s voice. He (she?) smiles. “You’ve been out a while. We’re glad you’re okay.”
“Where are we?” he asks, still trying to see through the gray haze.
“We’re on Mighty Med. It’s a hospital for superheroes,” says Adam.
“I know that. I know what Mighty Med is,” Leo says. He sits up. He sees a vague outline of a hospital room… How come he still can’t see anyone’s face? It makes his heart thump. “Who are you? Why can’t I see you?”
“The Incapacitator’s energy field must have been too much for you,” Chase replies. At least, it’s his voice.
“It’s going to be okay,” assures Bree. “The doctors said the blindness is temporary. In two days, you’ll be able to get your vision back.”
He searches their faces, still uneasy. The outlines of the shapes look like his siblings. There were four other people, although who they are he doesn’t know.
Suddenly, a worry hits him. “Where’s The Incapacitator?”
Though he doesn’t see their faces, he senses relief. “It’s over, Leo,” says Chase.
“What’s over?”
“Him. We defeated him!”
“What?”
“Yeah! He was holding you hostage,” says the figure that was Chase. Then, in Adam’s voice he adds, “It took us some time, but we figured out how to use his own power against him. Who knew it was that simple?”
“Wait. No, no, wait. I don’t understand.” He shakes his head. “You’re not making any sense. Who are you?”
“He’s dead, Leo. He imploded,” Bree says, a cold smile evident in her voice. “He died, as he should have.”
“No. No, that’s not true!” He tries to leap out of the bed, but the shapes hold him down. “What are you doing? Let go of me!”
“Why?”
Leo looks up quickly. He freezes upon seeing Krane towering over him, half of his body terribly burned just like the last time he saw him. A hole gapes at the place where his right eye should have been.
Krane grins wolfishly, blood on his teeth. “Isn’t this your fault? You should have reported him a long time ago. Maybe he would still be alive if you had.”
“We would still be alive,” S-1 agrees, appearing on the other side of him.
“You’re not quite the hero you think you are,” Krane says, his grip on his arm tightening.
The shapes press in on him, robbing him of breathing space. “No – Stop!” he screams. “Get away from me!”
But they only converge, closer and closer and closer until the shapes merge into a tangible cloud that wraps around him. Soon, the cloud turns into water that he plunges under, and then he can’t breathe.
He screams, but no sound comes out.
He gasps for air—
– Ϟ –
Leo wakes, gasping as if breaking through a surface. He defensively pulls his arm back from the person touching it, scooting away from him.
“Easy, Leo. It’s okay. You’re safe,” Joel says. “I won’t hurt you. It’s just me.”
Leo’s eyes quickly scan the room for danger. He’s in some bedroom, one he’s never seen before, and his father, wearing jeans and an ash gray t-shirt, is the only one there with him.
It all comes rushing back. Tecton, Chase, the energy lasso.
There was also the look of murder in his eyes as he grabbed him.
He retreats farther away from his father, afraid.
Joel chuckles. “Leo, I mean it. You’re—”
Leo flinches away from his touch, his heart calming but his brain still on high alert.
Joel sighs. “Right. I know. I overdid it. I’m sorry.”
“You were going to kill me.”
“I was never going to kill you. I would never. Why would I do that?”
Why would he? Leo doesn’t know. He used to think he understands why his father would do things, but now he doesn’t. “How could you lie to me?” he asks.
“Leo, you know I don’t like you being involved in the things that I do. Especially since you still stubbornly believe that there’s room for you in the superhero world.”
“But I am involved now. You hurt my family when I asked you not to!”
“I didn’t really hurt them! Everyone is still alive when we left.”
“You hurt Chase.”
“Well, the kid was kind of stupid.”
“He was still my brother!”
“Hey.” Joel points a finger at him. “Watch it. I don’t like your tone.”
The warning registers, but it does very little to allay his anger. “How could you do this? How could you hurt a lot of people like that?”
“Come on. It’s not like you don’t know that it’s just part of the job. They got in my way, I move them out.”
“But—”
“Leo, stop. Okay? Stop nagging me about this. It isn’t right,” Joel says patiently. “You know what I am. You know what I do. I understand why you’re mad, but everything I did was for a reason.”
Leo watches him indignantly as he gets up and heads towards a wardrobe. He simmers as he observes him dig through its contents.
It doesn’t make things any better when he comes back with a fresh set of clothes, smiling as if nothing happened.
His father observes him a moment before chuckling. “That must be some dream you had,” he comments. “I’ve never seen you this angry before.”
Leo says nothing and only looks away. He can’t stand his father at the moment.
“Since it seems like you won’t ask, this is the place I’ve been wanting to take you to,” Joel says. “It’s the house where I grew up. Nana’s and Pop’s house.”
Leo stubbornly keeps his mouth shut. Still, he’s moved to examine it closely. “I didn’t know it was still standing,” he mutters begrudgingly.
“Yeah,” Joel says, looking around the room fondly. “RT and I used to share this room, but when I turned 9, Nana moved Uncle RT to her sewing room downstairs.”
It’s fascinating that the childhood room of one of the most powerful supervillains in existence looks…normal. The room itself is small. Leo thinks it’s about the size of one of the sitting rooms in the Mission Creek mansion.
Pressed against the wall to his left is a study desk, a dust-covered stack of books, a decades old lamp, and a Duck Tales pencil holder sitting atop it. Right next to the study desk is the wardrobe. By the door is a shoe rack.
Everything looks so neat and normal that it’s almost disorienting. Sure, it’s obvious that not much had been touched for a long while, but he doubts that anyone would guess the kind of man the kid who used to sleep here would grow up to be.
“So, was I right? Were you having a bad dream?” his father asks. “You’re sweating like crazy.”
“Are we in Kansas?”
Though still a bit taken aback by his resistance, Joel answers. “Yeah.”
“Why did you take me with you? You didn’t need me.”
Joel shrugs. “Many reasons. Distraction, for one. Emotions run higher when there’s a hostage involve, especially when it’s a kid,” he says. “I know for sure it frazzles Tecton. That’s one of his weaknesses: his emotion tends to get the best of him in situations like this. He becomes more impulsive, more prone to make mistakes.”
“So you’re using me as a pawn.”
“I brought you here because I didn’t want to leave you behind with your new family.” He sighs. “Your stepdad is slipping. I want them to know how easily they could lose you. You’re valuable to me, Leo. I want them to feel the same fear I feel every day.”
Leo says nothing. He doesn’t know whether he should be grateful or frustrated that his father is once again stepping into his new life.
“You’re not going to tell me about your dream?” Joel prompts, smiling.
Leo stares at him, unsure. “I know you hate my new family, especially my stepdad, but you can’t keep doing this,” he says wearily. “What are we going to do if they find out that I’m your son? They’d think I’ve been in on it all along. It’s going to make a lot of things complicated.”
“Are you ashamed of me?”
“No, Dad, I never was! But after today, maybe I am.” Leo sighs. He hunches forward, gathering his thoughts. “This is putting me in a bad spot, too. I don’t want you to get hurt. I know you have your reasons why you do the things you do, and as we agreed on our deal I’m not going to interfere with anything unless it’s super bad.”
“But…?”
“But if I keep helping you, the superhero community might start viewing me as an enemy.”
“I only see that as an advantage.”
Leo only glares.
“Why do you insist on being one of them?” Joel asks. “You’re wasting so much of your time trying to earn their respect. You’re working three times as hard as your siblings, and they treat you like you don’t matter.”
“They don’t do that.”
“Yes. They do. You just don’t what to admit it.” Reading distress on his face, he says, “You’re a lot smarter than them. Take away your stepbrother’s bionic chip, and what is he? Just an average kid with an average level of intelligence.”
“But that doesn’t change the fact that—”
“That what? He creates things that work, that make money, and you don’t?” His father’s eyes have darkened, and Leo realizes that the smile was just a mask for the poisonous anger bubbling underneath. “Before you and your mother met them, you were heading towards great things. But look at what they did to you. They took everything from you. They took advantage of your loyalty, your sacrifice – and once they didn’t need you, they discarded you.”
“Please stop,” Leo mutters, the words hollowing out his heart.
Joel’s eyes soften when he realizes how it’s all hurting him. “I know the way I do things aren’t how you’d do them. But the world doesn’t look to me the way it does to you. It’s not a bright and warm place for people like us, my son. It just takes advantage of us and leaves us in the dark.”
When his son still won’t meet his eyes, he attempts a genuine smile. “I’m doing all of this for you. I don’t want you to experience the same things I’ve experienced. I know it may seem that I just want destruction, but really, what I want is a world where no one would take away anything from you.”
Leo knows what his father means; he knows the story. His dad and his uncle were only children, 10 and 7, respectively, when their parents were killed. They were able to get away from the murderers and hide in an abandoned house not far from here.
His grandfather had been close friends with a superhero at the time. They waited and waited for him, wishing that the man would show up and rescue their parents.
But the minutes only turned to hours, and hours turned to days. Even in the funeral, no superhero showed their face.
It was the day The Incapacitator was born. Injustices with no one to help only piled up, and the anger only increased until finally, everything he once was had turned into the man who sits in that room today.
Leo understands. Or, at least, he can sympathize. But why does it have to go this far? “You do know that if you drain the whole Earth of its energy, it’s possible that it would just implode in on itself,” he points out.
Joel laughs. “I just say that to spook the superheroes. You know them. They don’t do anything unless it involves drama.”
“You kidnapped me to prove a point. It’s not like you don’t.”
“I don’t. I prefer to be practical.”
“Practical? What if you get hurt?”
Joel shrugs. “Big game, big risks.”
“What if you die?” Leo asks, exasperated. “What if this is the one to end it all? You told me that your line of work is the one where people make you retire. Why would you put them in that position when you don’t have to?”
The expression on his father’s face changes. “I’m not going to explain anything to you.”
“I don’t need you to explain it to me. I don’t want to get involved in it.”
“Yes, you’ve made that very clear.”
Leo huffs. Why can’t he understand? “Dad, please. Don’t do this.”
“This is not your fight,” his father says decisively. “You’ve never wanted to be on the same side as me. I’m letting you. But don’t interfere with my plans.”
“It’s going to hurt a lot of people.”
“People die. That’s just what they do.”
“People? People like who, Nana and Pops?” Leo regrets the words as soon as they come out of his mouth. Horrifying still is the look of shock and hurt on his father’s face, turning the silence that ensues into something stinging.
He can kick himself. He should kick himself. He should have never gone that far. “I’m sorry, Dad. That was a terrible thing to say,” he apologizes. “It was hard on you when you lost them. I’m not as young as you were, but I don’t want you to die either. No matter how many offenses the law has listed under your name and how much they’re offering people for your capture, you’re still my dad. My world will also fall apart if something happens to you.”
For a moment, Joel only glowers at him. Then, he scoffs. “I can’t believe you know that they have a bounty on my head.”
“Well, I have to find a way to pay for college,” Leo jokes cautiously.
Joel chuckles. He’s still notably upset, but it’s obvious the tactic has worked. “So was that what you were dreaming about? That I died?”
Leo nods. “I was in Mighty Med. They told me you were dead.”
A smile teases at Joel’s face. “That upset you?”
“Of course. Who would ever want to wake up in a world where their parents are gone?” Remembering more of the dream, his frown deepens. “Krane and S-1 were also there. They told me it’s my fault that you died.”
“Krane. I took care of him a long time ago.”
“I know. It was the first time I asked you for help.” Leo hesitates before pointing out, “You know, you didn’t have to go that far. You could have just overloaded them and shorted them out. You didn’t have to…”
“Eliminate them? Of course I did. He was going to hurt you. He also didn’t seem to be the kind of guy who stops after you fire a warning shot.”
“You do know that what you did technically counts as being a hero, right?”
“Hm.”
Leo smiles for the first time. “You know, if Uncle RT finds out you—”
“Don’t.” Joel directs a steely stare at him. “Don’t mention any of the three of them anymore. I don’t want to talk about the dead right now.”
The smile on his face wanes. “Okay.”
Joel nods at the set of clothes sitting on the feet of the bed. “Change into that. You’re gonna be here a while so you might as well be comfortable.”
“Wait. You’re gonna be staying in?”
“Like I said, I’m practical. The longer you’re gone, the more desperate they’ll be. It’s easier to work with desperate people.”
“Aren’t you worried that they’ll find us here?”
“How? I fried your phone while you were sleeping, you don’t have bionics that—”
“You fried what!”
“—can trace, we’re in the middle of nowhere—” Joel smiles as he walks out the room. “They’ve got nothing.”
Leo feels like his brain has shorted out from that one information. “How could you destroy my phone? I worked hard to get that paid off!”
“I can always get you a new one,” Joel calls from down the hall.
Leo groans. That one was mine, though! “Why are you doing this to me?”
His father makes no reply.
Leo sighs, defeated. “You know, I feel like if I had superpowers, we’d be having a different conversation right now.”
His father slowly drifts to the door. “Why? Do you feel like you might?”
“I said if,” Leo says, irritated. “Let’s face it, Dad: I’m 17. Yours started showing up at 5. It’s time that we both accept that I’m a loser in that genetic department.”
“You know you’re not a loser,” says Joel. He shrugs. “You never know. Maybe you’re just a late bloomer. Maybe it’s just taking you longer.”
“Or maybe it’s really just not in me.”
“Could be trigger-based, too,” Joel muses. “Stress…”
“Had four years of that in high school.”
“Life or death situation?”
“Almost died five times, on my last count.”
Joel frowns thoughtfully. “Toxic waste?”
Leo deadpanned. “There ain’t no way I’m going to let you drop me in a pool of one just to see.”
Joel watches him closely. “Do you want superpowers?”
“I don’t think it’d make a difference at this point. I mean, it’d be cool,” Leo admits, “but if I just don’t have it, I just don’t have it.”
Joel nods thoughtfully. “Well, let me know. We could make a bid for the Arcturion if it’s something you want.” He smirks. “I have a better chance at it than she does.”
“Wait,” Leo calls after his father. He swings his feet off the bed, and it’s then that he realizes he’s chained. “Dad, what is this? Why’d you bolt me to the floor?”
“In case they do find us here!”
Leo fiddles with the lock a moment but decides to abandon it for now. “What’s the Arcturion? What’s that?”
“Do you want to help me with this one device I’d been working on? I could never get the mechanics quite right. Maybe you’d have an idea on how to fix it.”
“Yeah, sure – but what’s the Arcturion?”
Joel only chuckles. The real reason why I wanted this transponder, he thinks but as with all unspoken words Leo doesn’t hear it.
Not that he should. He has decided his son can’t know about it yet.
After all, it’s the true key for The Incapacitator to be the most powerful of them all.
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n3verending16 · 4 years
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you were good to me - Oikawa Tooru x Reader
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So, this is my first ever fanfic! Aah! Writing this was 100% a daunting experience for me, but I largely enjoyed writing it (posting it tho? *rapidly spams space button to align lyrics with the middle* *posts* *formatting is completely off and i have to do it all over again* *screams*). If you have any constructive criticism/ formatting tips, please comment it or send me a message ʕ •́؈•̀ ₎
Not requested, but certainly inspired by all the other oikawa x reader writer-chans out there (and a good friend of mine, yejin if you're reading this ily smkamsjskamssjk)!
caitlin and cindy ily too uwu
Based off "you were good to me"
All credits belong to their rightful owners
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Lying, isn't better than silence
"I don't love you anymore."
Oikawa Tooru could feel the bitter aftertaste of his own words to you that night.
Floating, but I feel like I'm dying
One year later, and he still couldn't break off the chains that anchored him down every time he jumped for the ball in a match. He couldn't fly like he used to, the guilt in his gut pressing him down every time he looked towards the stands and you weren't there, cheering for him as you usually did. It was his choice, his fault. And he regretted it, although he wished he didn't.
Still, no matter where I go
At the end of every road
You had always been there for him before, whenever he felt he wasn't good enough. The gentle caress of your fingers through his hair and your soft eyes peering into his own chocolate irises had helped him get over the loss of the match and focus on getting even better than he was. On particularly harsh days, you sang him to sleep, the dulcet tones and lull of your voice relaxing him as he passed into a gentle slumber.
You were good to me
You were good to me, yeah
You had always been understanding of him whenever he ended his practice sessions late. You never asked for his time, knowing his passion for volleyball burned brighter than anything you'd ever seen before, and you wanted to support him. You hugged and congratulated him with a smile on your face when he won, and you comforted him when he lost, but most importantly, you were always there in his life. A constant he could trust, someone he could rely on, someone he could love. He'd been thankful for it. And yet, when he saw the successful application to the Argentinian Volleyball Team, he was hit with the truth. Oikawa was moving to a country on the other side of the world, and things would've gotten so much harder for the both of you. You deserved someone that was so much more than him, someone who would hold you at night, someone who could go on real dates with you, someone who could, and would, put their own time away for you. As much as it hurt him, he knew for your own good, he had to let you go. So he did it the way he hoped would hurt you the least.
I know it's easier to run
After everything I've done
Cut it off. Keep your emotions away from this. This is what's best for them.
"I'm moving to Argentina, and I think it's time I tell you something..."
"I don't love you anymore. We should end things."
You were good to me
Yeah, you were good to me
He still hears your quiet sobs that night sometimes.
…………………………………………………………………………………………
Leaving, isn't better than trying
You'd spent that night lying on the couch, crying to yourself over your boyfriend who'd just walked out on you. What had you done wrong? Were you still not good enough for him? As soon as you had began to stop, reduced to sniffles, images of his silhouetted back as he walked out the front door and the cold glint in his brown eyes as he said the words that broke your heart flashed through your mind made you start bawling all over again. Had everything that had happened between the two of you been a lie? Had your presence in his life not mattered to him as much as his presence in yours?
Growing, but I'm just growing tired
You would've liked to say you were a different person than you had been one year ago. You would've liked to be spiteful and show Oikawa Tooru, international volleyball star, that you had outgrown being lovesick and was now independent and successful, with people who truly loved you. You would've liked to tell yourself that you were so, so much better off without him. But that was a lie, and you were not one to lie to yourself.
Now I'm worried for my soul
And I'm still scared of growing old
You had, honestly, tried to get over him though. You'd made yourself pass out from drunkenness only to wake up the next morning with a pounding headache and the incident more ingrained into your head. You'd busied yourself with cooking, gaming and knitting, and when that hadn't worked, considered a one-night stand from an overly amiable guy you'd just met at the corner café, after deciding against it when one of the girls standing in front of the window outside sent you two a deathly stare. You'd stacked all of his belongings and tried to burn them, until you realised your shaky hands couldn't start the lighter properly.
Even if you had forgotten him for a while, a dull, grey, reprieve from the emotions in your head, it wouldn't have been for long; the memories were everywhere. There was the book he'd accidentally spilt his bubble tea in when you snuck up behind him. There was the somewhat-lopsided drawer, a result of when it got stuck and he'd tried to force it in anyway, ending up in the sides breaking. There was the red christmas mug you'd gotten for him; only to realise he'd given you the exact same one, but green. The small bin in your room was full of milk bread wrappers. Even the study desk in the corner reminded you of days where he would try to draw something cute for you- you'd laughed and told him he had all the time in the world to improve.
You were good to me
You were good to me, yeah
That had clearly been a lie. And yet, you couldn't bring yourself to believe the words he'd said to you before he left a year ago were the truth. You had been sure that your relationship was pure, built from the ground on trust and a mutual understanding of each other- you'd respect his love for volleyball, he'd respect your desire to work harder in your career. Sure, he didn't sound like he was lying, but he was THE Oikawa Tooru- a man who held his confident and flippant façade up to the spotlights, letting the light shine on him however he pleased. You needed to know the truth, and like a burning question at the back of your mind, it never disappeared- before you contacted Iwaizumi Hajime, his best friend and your former close classmate, who told you "It was about time you knew the truth". You were glad to have heard those words.
After having a long conversation with Haji (most of it was you cussing), you wanted to hug Oikawa and punch him at the same time.
One decision led to another and the next day, you were standing on an airplane one year after the breakup with a plane ticket clutched in your hands, and a ticket to the Argentina vs Spain match folded up neatly in your purse.
"Try to let him off easy, yeah? He hasn't been at his best ever since he left you. I think he still regrets it."
………………………………………………………………………………………
And I'm so used to letting go
But I don't wanna be alone
There's noise in the stadium, filled with the audience's cheers and camera shutters going off, but drowned out by the silence in his own head. Oikawa lines the ball up to serve, watching the other team, analysing their positions. "Where should I hit?" he thinks to himself. This is his chance to take another set against Spain. If he misses this one, they will have lost the match 3-1, and it would've been his fault. He can't let that happen. The whistle blows, the ball goes up, and he's doing his jump-serve again, feeling the chains around his feet ready to snap taut like always.
But then amidst the bright lights, among the screaming crowd, he sees a flash of white and teal. Time seems to stop, and he floats in the air.
Was't that his Aoba Johsai volleyball jacket from high school? The one that he'd left behind at your house?
At first, he dismissed it quickly, thinking it was another die-hard fangirl who had one made or maybe even someone from his old team, because no way in hell could you be here right now watching him play when he'd walked out of your life and caused you so much pain and heartbreak one year ago. But then he saw the black purse, with a delicate pink floral pattern and gold highlights. The one he'd gotten for you on your birthday. He meets your wide eyes, your name is on his lips as he stares at your form.
But time moves again. And he grunts as his palm makes contact with the ball, making it fly into the corner and the other team turns and gapes at where surely there was a dent in the ground from the impact. They'd taken back a set, the score was 2-2. His team cheers wildly around him. The commentators rapidly fire off about the service ace- something he hadn't been able to do for a long time.
He's still staring at you in mid-air, but then he falls, meets the ground, his legs give out from under him and everything blurs.
You were good to me
You were good to me, yeah
You stare, lips parted as he collapses, slightly rising from your seat from worry. Had his knee gotten any better from before? Would he still be okay? Surely everything he'd worked for couldn't just end from a fall... but you realised if it did, it would've been your fault. You were, after all, the one who distracted him. Something punches you in the gut as you watch him get up, and he looks at you, the expression on his face one of pure shock and something you can't quite decipher. He keeps his eyes on yours as they shrug on his national sports jacket and carry him off, and you stare into his milky chocolate irises until the doors close behind him. Then you're pushing yourself through the crowd of seated anxious girls to find him again.
God only knows where our fears go
Hearts I've broke, now my tears flow
Oikawa finds himself in the hallway staring at the azure blue sky outside the window as a flock of birds soars past. The medics fuss over him, lifting his mildly sore leg and checking it once, twice, and he absentmindedly nods at their questions. There's a commotion at the door at the end of the hallway and he hears your muffled, strained voice. "No, please! I need to see him... you don't understand..." Eyes widening, he lifts himself up and hobbles over to the door at the end of the hallway, ignoring the protests of the baffled medics and guards. He puts his hand on the handle of the door and pushes, finding you arguing with a guard on the other side of the door. He hears his name from you, your voice giving him comfort. He smiles, albeit a broken one but still, a genuine smile, before he falls, his knee giving out again.
But this time, you're there to catch him.
You'll see that I'm sorry
Cause you were good to me
You were good to me
You hold Tooru as he sobs onto your shoulder. His tears cascade down his face as he clings to you, and he knows he doesn't deserve this, doesn't deserve you. Why had you tried to find him, after he broke your heart a year ago? You realise you're crying too when your vision blurs and all you can sense is the warmth from his skin on yours, his smell filtering the air around you. You take a deep breath in, honey vanilla with slight mint curling into your nose. People awkwardly stand by as they watch the reunion, mindful of the emotions and rawness in the air but also aware of the need to relieve pressure from his leg a bit. Eventually, someone bites the bullet and Oikawa sits down against the wall with you on his right. "You came here from Japan." Tooru hoarsely whispers. "Why?"
Before you could answer, the door opens and his teammate pops his head in, taking note of the people standing uncomfortably around.
"Hey Tooru, are you gonna be able to play?" he speaks in Spanish. He takes sight of you, a girl he's seen somewhere before, sitting next to his friend, and pauses.
"Wait, isn't that the girl on your wallpaper? I thought you said- never mind." He carefully speaks in broken English.
"Anyways, coach says if you're still fine we can send you in." You blink as Tooru puts his arm around you, a pout evident on his face. "I'm pretty sure I'll be able to play (the medic nods along in agreement), just give me a few moments." he answers. His teammate hesitates, nods, and closes the door. Tooru turns his head and rests his head on your shoulder, his fluffy brown hair tickling your neck. You nearly want to cry at what his teammate just told said. "Oh, Tooru..."
"You still haven't answered the question," he tells you. "Iwa-chan must've told you that I left because you deserved more than someone who couldn't be here for you. I don't deserve you, y/n-chan. You deserve to be happy, and... I'm not the one." He tucks away your air behind your ear. "But now that you're here, I can't help but want to be selfish. I want us to be together. I still want you."
You can't help laughing quietly at him, the little pout forming on his face again. "Oh Tooru... you wanted me to be happy. And you thought leaving me so brashly would achieve that? You forgot one very, very important thing." You lean into his shoulder, and play with his calloused fingers.
And now I'm closing every door
Cause I'm sick of wanting more
"If I'm ever to be truly happy..." You tell him, shifting yourself so you're cupping his soft cheeks and looking into his chocolate eyes. "Then you are, absolutely, essential in my life." His heart leaps, soaring at your words. After all that time, you still...
You tut at the dreamlike, adorable expression on his face. "C'mon, Tooru. Don't cry on me now. You've still got a match to win, don't you?" He breaks himself out of his reverie as you lightly pinch his cheeks, and grins ear to ear as you begin to move back to the stands. "Wait, wait." He shrugs his volleyball jacket off his shoulders and hands it to you. "Wear this over that, I want everyone to know you're still mine." You rolls your eyes at his childish request, "Your fangirls are going to kill me, I swear," but comply nevertheless. He's still smiling as he watches his oversized jacket swish around at your mid-thigh as you walk towards the doors. Anything else could come after the match, but for now, this was good enough for him.
You were good to me
You were good to me, yeah
For the rest of that match, for the first time, Oikawa Tooru flies. They do eventually win, 3-2. He's never felt more ecstatic as he pulls you in happily, kissing all over your face and handing you his Most Valuable Player award as you giggle from his childlike antics. The reporters rapidly take note of everything and theres a collective groan from the gaggle of fangirls somewhere, but it's you and him both in your own little world.
Swear I'm different than before
I won't hurt you anymore
Life goes on. You fly back to Japan, with a promise that he would never shut you out again. Sure, you would've preferred it if he was next to you, but you called and messaged each other so frequently that you found you had little to worry about. In rare spaces of time, he flew back to Japan to meet family and friends before spoiling you on dates, decorating your house ("Hey, we need to retake this photo! I'm even better looking now!") or cuddling on the couch together. Every relationship had its downsides, and long-distance relationships were even more a pain, but you were more than ready to take the troubles on if it meant you could still see his smiling face through the messenger call at 1am in the morning.
And you knew this time, he wouldn't stop you from trying.
Cause you were good to me
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heartfeltheart · 4 years
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Alchemy: Magic Vs. Science
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Chapters: 7/25 Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist/Harry Potter Rating: T Relationships: Edward/Winry, Lan Fan/Ling, and May/Alphonse. Primary Characters: Edward Elric, Severus Snape Additional Tags: Crossover, Teacher!Edward, BrOtp Edward/Severus. Sassy beyond measure. Series: Part 1 of 9. Summary: Magic and Science, are they the same or are they completely different? It just takes one person to point out all up and downs. Along with breaking the stereotypes that come up with being a wizard, alchemist and most of all being human. Thank you, @amynchan! D/C: I do not own Harry Potter or Fullmetal Alchemist. Discord: La Red(Mesh Mash of… stuff.): https://discord.gg/KYjmVAb Alchemy Series: https://discord.gg/DejEYNJ
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“English and Edward’s accented voice.” “Amestrian or another foreign language.” “Written notes.” ‘Thoughts.’ First Name: Informal Last Name: Formal (Or used to annoy others)
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"Are you zure you do not mind?" Edward asked Severus, matching the Potion Master's strides as they headed down towards said professor's classroom. The blonde twitched consistently the deeper they headed down into the school. He swore the school really wants him out but it's going to take much more than that to get him out...That thought made pause momentarily. Since when did he think the school as a...thing? A living thing? "Ugh...Dis school is koing to be the end of me?"
"Something the matter, Mr. Elric?" Severus asked, taking note of Edward's constant twitching and how his accent started to return in full blast.
"Dis school hades me." Edward stated evenly, he walked down a staircase along with Severus when the professor suddenly grabbed hold of Blonde's shoulders making him stop walking. Edward looked over at Severus questioningly, his eyes widen in shock when he felt the staircase move underneath them. "What the truth!"
Edward clung onto Severus in complete terror as the staircase moved. Severus stared at Edward unamused by his actions but did not comment on it. When they had left Edward's room early, the staircase's did not move and neither he or Filius commented about the magical staircases. "Vat the truth is dis?"
"Magical staircases." Severus stated he pushed Edward forward once the staircase stopped moving. "Move."
Edward grumbled under his breath as he allowed Severus to push him forward. He began to mentally repeat chemical formulas in his head to calm himself down. Once they had arrived at the location, Edward couldn't help but stare at the general area they were in. "Are ve in the dungeon?"
"Yes...yes we are." Severus stated, he opened the main door that leads into his classroom. When Edward entered the classroom, his eyes widen in astonishment. Of course, he had an image in his mind about said location from Severus. But words gave no justice to what he was seeing in front of him. Severus glanced back to see Edward glancing through the cabinets with a look of wonder and astonishment. He chuckled under his breath as he turned back around and headed towards his desk. After all, the Potion's Master has to get his first of the year ready. Severus made a mental note to make a potion to cure help him with headaches.
Severus prepared for his first class and Edward looking around the classroom with curious eyes, a tranquil silence fell over them. On occasion, Severus would glance over to see what Edward is doing to ensure he is not hurting himself. On the latest glance, he saw the Blonde sitting in a stool with a book in hand. A close glance to see that said book is a book about flours and herbs, both magical and the non-magical variety.
The main entrance of the classroom opened and slowly trickled in students, all dressed in uniforms. The only differences they had are the colors of their scarves, ties, crest and the lining of their robes. One group yellow and black, the other group blue and bronze. They entered the class and quietly took their seats and took out the necessary items for that class period. A lot of them shot Edward curious looks, as they did not expect to see the Alchemy Professor in the dungeons.
Severus looked up to see that his classroom filled with Hufflepuff's and Ravenclaw's sixth years. At least he wasn't starting the day with first years...let alone with Gryffindor's. He saw one Hufflepuff standing awkwardly, looking at Edward's chair. Ended up said guy had taken the chair that said Hufflepuff should be using. "Elric."
Nothing...
"Elric."
Nothing...
"Mr. Elric..."
"Ko avay...I am reading..." Edward mumbled under his breath, huddling closer to the book.
"I have more books in my office." Severus stated, he did not want to get close to Edward as he was lost in his own little world. He did not want a repeat of what happened that morning. If it wasn't for his high collared robes, then people could see there is a blossoming bruise there.
Fortunately for everyone, Edward peaked over the book. When he did, he saw how the classroom is now filled with students. His brow's furrowed when he saw a Hufflepuff staring at him awkwardly. "Ven did they get here?"
"Mr. Elric...The class is about to start."
"Fine."
-.-
"Who the bloody hell is he?"
"He's the new Alchemy Professor."
"I've never seen Professor Snape so..."
"Nice? Is that the proper word to use?"
"If that would have been anyone else, Professor Snape would have given them detention or take away points."
"Just who is this bloke?"
"Vat are dey taking about." Edward whispered to Severus who was sitting at his desk. Severus resisted the urge to jump out of his seat. He was sitting at his desk after telling the Sixth years what they needed to do. After doing a couple of rounds and ensuring the brats won't blow themselves up, Severus sat down at his desk. He started to go over a list of students who he believes Edward would approve for his class. All the while Edward is in his office reading away. So that is why it came to a surprise that said guy crept up to him and whispered to him. Even if Severus could not see his face, he could tell Edward took amusement to his amusement. "Well?"
"I believe they are talking about you." Severus stated under his breath glaring at the grinning blonde.
"The usual den?" Edward snorted, he then promptly handed Severus several sheets of paper.
Severus took the sheets of paper with a raised eyebrow. Scanning through the sheets of papers, he saw that they were questions and tidbits of personal notes that Edward made for himself. "You want answers?"
"Well duh..." Edward deadpanned, he had somehow found a chair and scooted himself next to the Potions Master. "I never heard of an of deze dings, could you show me vat it is?"
Severus did not say anything as he reread the list and comparing it to the list to what he has in his inventory. There are only a few things that are not in his inventory...as said items are extremely hard to get. "This is what...this is..."
-.-
"What the hell did that idiot get himself into this time?" Roy Mustang stared at his notes he created after reading a letter that Edward sent to him. He does not know if the letter should be a concern or the fact said letter was delivered by an owl. The owl had swooped in, dropped the letter on his desk, rip up his paperwork, took all of his pens, and even had the gall to poop on his head. Then finally flew off... Roy swore the owl gave him a devious look when it flew off. It is the same look that a former Fullmetal Alchemist gave him. After grueling hours of decoding the letter, Roy finally decoded the letter and even then the Flame Alchemist is still debating if he actually decoded it. "Magic? Wizards? Magical Alchemy? Can't you take an actual vacation without getting yourself into complications...?"
"Is something the matter, sir?" Riza Hawkeye asked, taking note of Mustang's look of complete seriousness.
"Get me in contact with Fuhrer Grumman... That idiot did the impossible again."
"In what level of impossible this time?"
"The Elric kind."
-.-
Edward looked up losing his previous train of thought, he swore that Mustang is going to make his life hell. With a shrug, he went back to looking through student files of potential candidates for his class. He sat on the corner of his desk, in his classroom looking through personal files of potential candidates for his class. Sitting on the actual chair behind the desk is Severus and sitting on a tall stool on the other side of the desk is Filius.
"I think that I might have to rethink mein teaching plans." Edward stated, placing a file on the desk and promptly rugged his temples in frustration. "The students that vant to take dis class, have no packground in certain subjects in order to learn it. I vould have to teach them zaid subjects and that vould require time and.... badience from both sides..."
"Knowing you.... You barely have enough of it." Severus stated, glancing through a couple of files.
Edward was going to retort but stopped himself, he then shrugged in agreement. "I am actually more vorried if I end up in prison by the end of mein first teaching week. Okay...dis year is going to be a very...very...long one."
"Do you have an idea how you are going approach this?" Filius asked, looking over at Edward nervously. Even if Edward meant it as a joke, the whole bit of about ended up in prison has him on edge.
"Tests." Edward responded he began picking up multiple pieces of paper and took out a wooden pencil from his pocket. "A zimple test...
"Simple? In whose terms, Edward?"
Edward glanced over at Severus once more, he doesn't know if he should be surprised by the actual fact Severus called him by his first name or take his words in complete consideration. After all, he is dealing with students that have no prior knowledge of what Alchemy is. From the time he spent in the Magical World and what Severus told him, science is not taught in the form he knew. For the ones that grew up in in a non-magical household would also have difficulty. As they stopped their 'muggle' education to learn a magical one. Plus...Edward is considered to be a prodigy when it comes to Alchemy... He can't really compare himself to all of them. It just wouldn't be fair. "Dat is a very good question. I know a lot the vast majority of dem will not know or understand vat I will be teaching."
"Ah...A test of knowledge. To gauge to see what they know and go from there?"
"Yep..."
"Let me guess...No age requirement?" Severus asked, remembering what Edward told him about his Alchemist Examination Test.
"Nah, as long as the student has common sense den it should all be okay." Edward stated with a tight grin, his eyes did not portray the humor in his statement. Oh, common sense... If only he had any while growing up half the time. Then again, common sense tends to lead him to more trouble than anything else.
"Will that is a good idea though?" Filius asked. "About not having age restrictions. I know you started at a young age and done quite a few things, but... students here are..."
"The test vill show me what they know, vat they belieffe and how much they dezire to learn Alchemy." Edward explained to Filius, his shoulders sagged slightly and turned his attention out the window. "Depending how much they know, then I will teach them from that point."
"Now you have to tell Pomona and Minerva of this."
"Eh..."
-.-
"Hufflebuff... Hufflebuff... Hufflebuff..." Edward muttered under his breath, he headed down to the greenhouses. After his time with Severus and Filius, they pointed their way to Pomona Sprout classroom. Just filling him enough of information about the professor and attributes of a Hufflepuff. Edward couldn't help but think of his brother. "Hufflebuff."
Standing in front of the greenhouse, Edward debated to if he should get in. He doesn't know if the Professor is in the middle of a class. Taking in a deep breath, Edward knocked curtly against the door before opening the door and peeked his head into the greenhouse. His eyes widen at the sight of the different variety of plants in the building. He could recognize a very few from the book Severus let him borrow to read. Whispers broke him out of his musings, he turned his head to see that the greenhouse filled with first years, Gryffindor's and Slytherin's by the looks of it. The reason he knows they are first years because Fred and George are there...both of them wearing big fluffy earmuffs. Thinking about it, everyone was wearing earmuffs. Looking at the Professor, who was giving him a look of surprise and attempting to signal him frantically.
Edward did not understand what Pomona was trying to communicate with him. It wasn't until one of the students pulled out a freakish looking plant from one of the pots and it started to scream. All the students either filched due to the crying the plant thing was doing, looked completely aghast or with fascination. No one had taken note of the Alchemy Professor has passed out due to the high pitch deathlike scream.
'So that is why she warning me about...'
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fearofaherobrine · 5 years
Text
Roleplay Server Log #382
“Thieving MIBS, Romantic Interlude, Slender Out Of The Loop, Alexsezia vs Grinny”
[EAlex] Is still passed out cold and alone in the house.-
-There's a bit of rattling like someone picking the lock and two figures slide inside and close the door with a soft click.
[1] She's here... like here here...
[2] How interesting. I wonder where the other one went...?
[1] Should we take her?
[2] No, then we'll be the ones taking care of her until she's healed.
[1] And the artifact?
[2]We shall search then-
-later that night, Licht comes home to a rather subtly invaded space. Things haven't been moved much, but enough that she'd notice. Particular care was paid to going through the hall closet and her desk, and a few small things were taken, but nothing of value. Several pens, all her paperclips, an old mug that on the back of the kitchen sink.... wait... something of value was taken! One of the cold flowers is now missing.
[EAlex] Rolls over and groans in pain-
[Licht] Turns her attention towards EALex- You okay?
[EAlex] Croaks in pain- w...ater?
[Licht] - Hang on- She goes to the kitchen and quickly grabs a bottle, opening it and handing it to EAlex-
[EAlex] Gulps it gratefully, her skin is drenched in sweat. She suddenly perks with an idea and winces as pain shoots through her. She lifts a hand and wiggles her fingers like typing. Licth's phone buzzes in response.
[Licht] - What are you doing?  Don't push yourself!- She goes over and picks up her phone
-There's a text from EAlex with no return number-
[EAlex] It hurts to talk. Feels like I swallowed a cactus farm.
[Licht] - Then rest!
[EAlex] -txt-  Too hot....
[Licht] Grabs the remaining cold flower- Pretty sure that's why we got this
[EAlex] -txt- I thought there were two?
[Licht] - I thought so too...  And there's a few other things missing as well...
[EAlex] -txt- Of all the things to take...
[Licht] - I'm sure I could text Doc and get some more if we need them- She hands over the flower
[EAlex] Holds it so it snows softly over her chest - txt- please....
[Licht] Goes through her phone till it reaches Doc's number ad fires off a text-
[Doc] Responds pretty quickly- Is EAlex okay? Do you two need help???
[Licht] - We need some more cold flowers, I think somebody broke into my apartment and stole one of them...
[Doc] That's... fuck. Okay. I'll go ask. Lie's the only one that can make those. Just sit tight.
[Licht] - Not going anywhere
[Doc] Eye turn upwards to Deerheart on hir head. - I know you're probably still mad, but I need to make a quick stop and get some flowers for EAlex-
[Deer] - Fine
[Doc] Thank you. - Xe trots into Lies yard and sniffs around for her-
[Lie] Is walking around with Aether, trying to calm her down-
[Doc] Taps on the glass with a claw- Lie?
[Lie] - Hm?  Oh, hey Doc
[Doc] Is Aether okay? She seems distressed?
[Lie] - This happens almost every night, I think it's just a bit of colic...
[Doc] I... don't know what that is.
[Lie] - It's just some digestive issues, I asked Karla about it and she says it's rather common.  Just have to walk her around- Lie nudges the door open and steps outside- So CP passed by laughing with Stevie in tow, do I want to know what happened
[Deer] - Stevie is on my shit list
[Doc] I'll tell you, but I need a small favor. EAlex is burning up. Someone stole one of your cold flowers out of Licht's house and the remaining one isn't enough to chill her fever-
[Lie] - I see- She concentrates and a few cold blossoms spring up at their feet
[Doc] Thank you. - Xe plucks them and makes a quick hole through Licth's Tv, before holding them out to her on the other side- Here you go Licht-
[Licht] - Thanks- She takes them and immediately gives them to EAlex-
[EAlex] Hugs them to her chest and passes out again-
[Doc] Nods - Sleep well. You're doing good Licht. Keep it up.
[Licht] - Thanks, I'll try to remember to keep you updated
[Doc] It's appreciated. -xe closes the hole then turns to Lie- Stevie... well Karla asked him to do something he shouldn't have and he was too inncent to say no.
[Lie] - Oh...  That would explain my husbands glee...
[Deer] - I hope Aether feels better Lie
[Prince] -Was notified of his new brine arrival and has made his way to Lie's home-
[Lie] Is taking Aether outside into the sun- Hm?  Oh, hello
[Prince] -Looks to Lie- Hello. Is that the little one? -Steps closer to peak-
[Lie] - Oh, right.  You're her NOTCH.  Yes, this is Aether
[Prince] Aether... Aether. A lovely name. Was that not what an additional realm of our world was going to be named?
[Lie] - Yeah, it was actually supposed to be the NOTCH's realm
[Prince] Ah... -Looking at Aether with some fondness.- Any reason you named her that?
[Lie] - The reason is a bit silly I suppose, but CP essentially represents the Nether, Endrea the End, and I suppose I would represent the Overworld.  It...  Just sort of made sense that she represent a realm too
[Prince] That's not silly in the least. May I hold her?
[Lie] - I...  Sure- She carefully hands Aether over
[Prince] -Holds Aether gently and coos softly at her-
[Aether] Gives a little happy shriek as she kicks her legs some-
[Prince] Yes, yes, hello there little one... Mix was never this small. Probably for the best.
[Lie] - And why is that?
[Prince] Why to which part? Why was she never this small, or why was it for the best?
[Lie] - Both
[Prince] I couldn't tell you why she wasn't that small, I don't know that one myself. But it being for the best is because she'd have been crushed by a dinosaur of some kind, probably.
[Lie] - Oh right, you guys came from a seed with dinosaurs
[Prince] And Mammoths. Can't forget those.
[Lie] - We do have those
[Aether] Starts getting a little fussy-
[Prince] Oh, what's wrong dear, are you hungry? Lets get you back to mom, yes? -Holds her back to Lie-
[Lie] Takes her and tries calming- She could just want Daddy, she likes his heat
[Prince] She gets cold, does she?
[Lie] - Yeah, her uncle can't even hold her very long
[Prince] That's a shame, have you found a solution yet?
[Lie] - No, we're hoping her glitch settles as her glow comes in
[Steve] Is sitting thoughtfully on the edge of the tub in his shared room-
[TLOT] Looks up from the book he's reading- Something on your mind?
[Steve] Eh, just baby stuff. Everyone has been so busy lately.
[TLOT] Closes the book and puts it away- Do you need some attention?
[Steve] Maybe... - He lays back on the floor with his feet still in the water - I'm worried about my glitch.
[TLOT] Yeah, I know that one intimately. But it changes nothing. I love you no matter what shape you are. And if you get twisted up, I'll do everything in my power to fix you.
[Steve] I know, I trust you with my life.
[TLOT] Then trust me when I tell you not to worry. We have the best of the best here to draw on for help if needed. - He crawls off the bed and creeps up on Steve.
[Steve] Closes his eyes. - I feel your closeness, sneaking doesn't do any good.
[TLOT] Ah, phooey. Maybe I should be something else?
[Steve] Feels a stirring in his loins. - If you want...  I know not every form is comfortable for you.
[TLOT] Maybe I should just be mostly nothing. Practice a bit...
[Steve] What's that supposed to mean?
[TLOT] Dissolves into dark fog and the cloud wisps over to where his husband is laying and settles over him.  
[Steve] Is a bit disoriented- I can't see when you do that.
[TLOT] I think that's the point. - He's working on exerting pressure without being fully manifested, the fog sneaking into his mates clothing like a hundred gossamer tendrils.
[Steve] That tickles!
[TLOT] Not for long... - he wraps the fog around his mates cock and gives it a few gentle prods, squeezing it as his Steve writhes in the black blindness that's blotting out every sense but touch.
[Steve] NGGGghhh!
[TLOT] Twiddles his mouth with another coil of half solid smoke and gives the tinest insubstantial gasp as Steve tries to suck on the tip of what's between his lips.
[Steve] Is just twitching on the floor and kicking up little splashes with his feet still in the tub. He grabs the carpet with both hands and curls his fingers in frustration as his ass is tickled, then invaded with the tiniest tendril. - Oh Gods! - he mumbles around the part in his mouth- That's so evil! I need more then that!
[TLOT] Keeps playing with him and starts to pinch and nip at his skin-
[Steve] Arrrrrrrrrrgggghhhh.
[TLOT] Takes pity and lets him have a little more, gripping his cock more firmly and manipulating it without actually un-clothing his mate. He plumps the part betwixt his ass cheeks and moves it a bit more as well.
[Steve] Is just trying to thrust his hips in frustration as the cloud holds him down with only a fraction of a chunk of weight. He's mumbling- please... please....
[TLOT] Lifts him a little and finally removes his pants-
[Steve] Gives a tortured sigh of relief-
[TLOT] is using the fog to torment him from several angles, pinching and thrusting and jerking him all at once. Then turning arond and sticking his cock fully into his husbands lips.
[Steve] Sucks almost desperately, needing so badly to be fucked, or at least allowed to cum.
[TLOT] Goes back to solid on top of him, naked as a jay and hard as bedrock in Steve's mouth. He gathers his mates cock in his own mouth and uses his overlong tongue to make it wet and slippery before blowing it vigorusly. His right hand wanders down to keep playing with Steve's ass as he's pleasured in turn.
[Steve] Is pushed under with his Herobrine's weight, trapped and penetrated and enjoying it immensely. He's reveling in the taste, the heat, the brush and tickle of soft chest hair and the iron grip of a fist that could break trees like matchsticks around the base of his desperate cock. He grabs his mates asscheeks and kneads them, getting some small extra happy noises from TLOT as they passionately 69.
[TLOT] Starts sending him emotions as well, making his want even more acute, sending memories of some of their more exotic trysts together until finally he can take no more.
[Steve] Comes with a small wail, his body trembling with desperate sweat and spazzing a little with the aftershocks.
[TLOT] Tries to pull up but is stopped by his husband's grip on his ass. The unexpected pressure is the last nudge to tip him over the edge as well, and he pours his guts out into his mates waiting mouth. Coming and coming until Steve has no choice but to turn his head to avoid choking. He feels the hands release and rolls over quickly to check on Steve. - Are you okay???
[Steve] Blinks- I saw bubbles! But... yeah. I think we both needed that.
[Slender] Has had a few long conversations with his mother and is taking a stroll outside to try and get his own thoughts in order-
[Doc] Is outside just enjoying the fresh air and fishing a bit. Xe's also trying to ignore Buff-
[Buff] Has a chunk of bedrock and is treating it like a medicine ball, lifting and streching with it without putting it down.
-That's a slight crackle from Slender's emp-
[Deer] In chat- Love... Be careful
[Doc] Hmm? - whispers- I will be. Hopefully he's not too annoyed.
[Buff] Shivers as the emp crackles over them-
[Slender] Paces a bit closer, still lost in thought-
[Doc] Pulls up the line and gets a salmon - nice.
[Buff] -aggressive squats-
[Slender] Finally looks up- Doctor, there you are
[Buff] Stops and looks up and up at Slender- Whoah... you must work out.
[Doc] Waves with a cheerful smile - Hey Slender. Lovely day isn't it?
[Slender] Moves quickly, a tendril whapping Doc upside the head- That is for keeping my mother's location a secret
[Doc] Is pretty much knocked in the sand and tumbles - Fuck!  
[Buff] Hey now! Don't hit my Herobrine. Just because you're big is no reason to be a bully!
[Slender] At Buff- This is no concern of yours
[Doc] Sits up, rubbing hir cheek. - Actually it kinda is. Fucking hell. Slender, this is my NOTCH. Buff.
[Slender] - I see. Doctor, are you aware of just how much trouble you've just caused me?
[Doc] No...? I mean, I gather you don't like suprises, but none of your brothers hesitated at the suggestion that they wait to tell you until you could see for yourself.
[Buff] OH. He's the guy? Got his mom back?
[Slender] - It means that whole sections of our plans against my father must be altered now! Plus we now know even less how he will act! He is not rational when something that is his is stolen!
[Doc] Well... I wasn't aware there really was a plan? You seem disinclined to include me in that sort of thing. But honestly she's obviously been abused and now her well-being can't be used as leverage against you.
[Slender] - She chose to remain in that position! To protect us and delay our father!
[Doc] It doesn't mean he didn't consider her disposable, and at least she's safe here.
[Slender] - He wouldn't have killed her! And now because of your interference our timeframe to be ready has been shortened!
[Doc] So does this mean you'll actually tell me what you have planned?
[Slender] - No, I believe you've done more than enough damage
[Doc] Slumps - Ouch... So... Did you have a nice talk at least?
[Slender] - Several
[Doc] Small smile- You should have seen Offenders freak out when we brought her in... it was a heady mix of terrifying, incredibly funny and sweet.
[Slender] - So I heard from Splender
[Doc] Rubs hir cheek a little, more annoyed then hurt. - I still think you shouldn't hit me, I'm not Cp being bad on purpose. If you won't tell me what's going on, you don't really have any room to blame me when I accidentally get in your way.  I really can help. I've got resources and not as many scruples as you'd imagine. I can get just about anything with ease. Killer robots? Alien monsters? Army of zombies? Easy peasy. [Buff] Frowns slightly- don't do that. I don't want to get fired or reassigned. [Doc] It's just an example Buff. And anyway I... -they stop mid-sentance to stare at something walking amidst the shadows of the trees. It looks like a Lightfoot, but the head is too big.
[Slender] Glances and gives it a warning hiss-
[Fru] ignores Slender and snuffs around in the grass -
[Doc] Typing in chat - Yaunfen? Why is Fru wandering in the yard?
[Yaunfen] Chat- are they???? FUCK. Sorry mada. They have a really small hitbox and I'm having a hard time keeping them caged.
[Doc] Sighs- I'll take care of it then.
[Buff] Someone got bigger...
[Fru] has a more defined pattern of red and green  bits on their brown surface and give a small yawn showing a lot of teeth.
[Slender] - Another of your...  Pets?
[Doc] By extension yeah... my child has inherited both my scientific curiousity and hir mothers clumsiness. It was an accidental spawn before we had set up a proper pen.
[Buff] I'll get em.
[Doc] Buff you might want to be careful, they don't like-
[Buff] Picks up the dinosaur and they immediatly start thrashing and making roaring noises-
[Doc] -being picked up. -sigh.
[Slender] - Perhaps you should find a way to contain it better, from what I can see, it looks as if it may have broken some...  Blocks?  I believe is how you would say it?
[Doc] Either that or the bars I put up. If so, it means an iron cage isn't strong enough.
[Buff] Is wrestling with the dino and getting scratched and bit a lot.
[Fru] Acting like a cat in a bath, basically.
[Slender] - I believe your NOTCH may need some help...
[Buff] Gets Fru in a chokehold-
[Doc] Oh dear. I think I have a more efficient way to handle this. - They transform and pad over- Just let go Buff!
[Buff] Heroic style struggling- Awww. Do I have too?
[Doc] Gently seperates the two and is patting at Fru basically shoving them back if they try to get too far away.
[Fru] Frustrated noises-
[Doc] You really are a wild one... wait, wild! - chat- Has anyone seen Salvatage?
[Salvatge] Is snuggled up next to Dolly, asleep while she reads-
[Dolly] Nudges him- Hey, I think Doc needs you.
[Salvatge] - But I'd rather not leave my suns beautiful golden rays...
[Dolly] I won't go anywhere. Just see what they need.
[Salvatge] Grumbles but does get up and types into the chat- I'm coming
[Doc] Thank you. - they're examining the dinosaur and once there's a free moment they pull out some gummy fish and offer them. They nearly lose a bit of claw as Fru snaps up the fish and starts devouring them with a hungry growl- well that explains the wandering. The baby grew and needs a bit more food.
[Fru] is about the size of a lightfoot now.
[Salvatge] Wanders up- What did you get now?
[Slender] Watches cautiously-
[Doc] It's a dinosaur, sort of? I'm calling it seed bleed. It's not normal to have seeds loaded inside of an existing world and stuff is, seeping from one to the other. We put a world with a candy mod next to TLOT's console and his apparently has some surviving dinosaurs and a lot of fossils that can be revived.
[Slender] - It looks like the fruitcakes the humans subject each other too around the winter solstice
[Salvatge] Starts feeling Fru out-
[Doc] Then I guess my kid was inspired, cause they named it Fru. And cake with fruit in it doesn't sound so bad. I presume it's something toothache inducingly sweet?  
[Fru] Doesn't have too much going on mentally and makes some curious noises at the server.
[Salvatge] - Hello, you certainly are a wild one...  Untamable...
[Slender] - It's considered by most an atrocity
[Doc] confused- If it's that bad why do people keep making it?
[Fru] Has a hitch in his code that will become apparent if Salvatage looks closer-
[Salvatge] Digs a little deeper-
[Slender] - Tradition I believe, it was a way of having fruit in a time of the year when they wouldn't grow
[Doc] Ah, humans are odd aren't they? I'd still try it though. Maybe I'll ask someone next time I visit the Mojang team.
[Fru] Bleps a bit- The hitch is a timer that will run out at the moment they are full grown. At that point they'll become hostile and need to be beaten to a low health level and tamed with a specific item.
[Salvatge] - Oh dear...  So this dinosaur?  It's not going to be tamable until it's an adult...  And from what I can tell, the way to tell it's ready to be tamed is that it will turn super aggressive
[Doc] Oh great. Well lucky for us it only eats sweets.
[Buff] Slipped into the water to wash all his little cuts- got sharp claws though.
[Salvatge] - It looks like you'll need a certain object to tame it as well
[Slender] - You might need a strong leash in the mean time
[Doc] Any clue as to what I'm looking for Salvatage? And I'm not sure what to use Slender. It keeps chewing through the leads we use for everything else.
[Slender] - The same type we use on Smile sometimes might work
[Salvatge] - I don't know what sort of object you'll need
[Fru] Pacing a bit and takes a mouthfull of carrots from the garden before spitting them out-
[Doc] Time to do more research then I guess. And see if that curly shell Yaunfen uses to call Basil does anything.
[Salvatge] - I'm going to return to my beautiful goddess now
[Doc] Understood. Thank you for the advice, I'll be keeping a much sharper eye on this one in the mean time. I get the feeling it's going to be pretty big when it's fully grown.
[Slender] - I need to figure out where Sally has gone, she wanted to go visit Herobrine
[Doc] I can look for her, she has a player name here- they put a foot on Fru's tail and close their eyes for a moment- She's actually headed this way. You are pretty easy to see since the trees in my yard are kinda short.
[Sally] Comes running up- Papa!
[Slender] Uses some tendrils to pick her up- There you are
[Fru] Nips at Doc -
[Doc] Bad dinosaur! Hey Sally, did you... - slow realization dawning- have a nice visit?
[Sally] - Mmhm!
[Slender] - Are you ready to go visit Herobrine?
[Sally] - Yeah!  I wanna see his baby!
[Doc] Uneasy grin-
[Slender] - His what?
[Doc] Well I guess that cats out of the bag now...
[Slender] There's a crackle around them as his EMP grows-
[Doc] Don't get excited! It's not bad news!
[Slender] Teleports-
[Doc] Well fuck.
[Fru] Little roar.
[Doc] Yeah, me too buddy, me too.
[Notch] Is sitting on the swing under Lie's bridge with Aether in his arms. He's wearing a huge smile and just rocking her contentedly-
[Aether] Is sleeping contentedly-
[Slender] There's a slight crackle as he teleports to the front of the house the EMP disturbing Aether a little-
[Notch] His flat black eyes go incredibly wide and his shield pops up around him automatically- Holy shiiiit.
[Slender] Growling- Herobrine!
[CP] From his private chambers- Fuck
[Aether] Starts getting fussy-
[Notch] Is frantically trying to both soothe the baby, hold his shield up and also not pee his pants.
[CP] Teleports out- What do you want!
[Slender] - At what point did you intend to tell me you were having a child?
[CP] - Never
[Notch] Is debating whether to try just running away-
[Slender] - And why not?
[CP] - So that bitch would get no where near her!
[Lie] Picks up on Notch and talks to him privately- Is everything alright?
[Notch] mentally- s-s-Slender.... and Aether is fussing!
[Lie] - I'll be there as soon as I can!
[Slender] - So you think that not alerting me to the second time this has ever happened was a good idea?
[Aether] Starts crying for real-
[Slender] His attention is drawn in that direction-
[Notch] His shield shimmers with his nervousness -Don't cry sweetheart! I'll protect you!
[CP] Moves to stay between Slender and his child- Back off Slender
[Slender] - You will not even allow me to look?
[CP] - Fuck no!
[Notch] Stands up from the swing and tries his hardest to get Aether to stop crying - She's probably sensitive to emp! She might be crying because you're putting out interference!
[Slender] Growls-
[Sally] - Papa, you're scaring it!
[Slender] - Very well, I will retreat for now, but I demand a full explanation later
[CP] - Just go!
[Notch] All his hearts are hammering like he's going to explode - There's nothing to explain! She's just a little baby!
[Slender] - A baby that will likely be very powerful- He puts Sally down
[Notch] She'll be her own creature. The first of her kind. And if she's lucky she'll inherit her moms kind nature.
[Slender] Growls a little and teleports away, leaving Sally there-
[CP] His body visibly relaxes a little- Is she alright?
[Notch] Lets his shield fall. - I think she's just unhappy because daddy was yelling and Slender scared her with his emp.
[CP] Approaches- Give her here
[Notch] Still trembling, he manages to approach Cp and passes Aether to him- Ye gods that was scary!
[CP] - That was pretty mild for him
[Aether] Still crying but starting to quiet down-
[Lie] Hurries up, she had been down by the library- Is everything alright!?
[Notch] a bit hollow and haggard- Slender knows...
[Lie] - Oh... Oh dear... Is that why the air feels... Itchy? I guess that's the best way to describe it?
[CP] - Yeah, residual emp, best to get Aether away from here until Deer can completely get rid of it
[Notch] Gotcha. Maybe we could go to the bar for a bit? Give her space to work her magick?
[CP] - Yeah, that should be far enough, come on Sally, we're getting food
[Sally] - Okay!
[Lie] - I'll go get the diaper bag
[Blake] Comes out of hiding with a curious woof.
[Notch] walks around the side of the house looking for Flux
[Flux] Is already aiding Deer in fixing the area- Hello love
[Notch] We're thinking of going to the bar to get the baby away from the bad vibes. Do you want to come?
[Flux] Shakes her head- No thank you, Deer and I are working on fixing what Slender just caused
[Notch] Ah, okay, I didn't want to leave you out. Can i bring you back something?
[Flux] - Only yourself is necessary
[Notch] Incredibly sappy smile - absolutely
[Grinny] Is sleeping on the corner of Alexaezia's bed, his whole body twitches as he's consumed by a nightmare-
[Alexsezia] wakes at his twitching and watches him sadly before whispering to him- They can't hurt you now sweetheart... You're safe here.
Grinny] Growls deeply in his sleep-
[Alexsezia] I'm sorry you were abused, - she whispers- but it's over now little one.
[Grinny] His claws are flexing-
[Alexsezia] Easy now, they're memories. I know it feels real, but it's just a dream...
[Grinny] Jerks awake and attacks the closest thing which is Alexsezia's hand.  He digs claw and tooth in as deep as he can-
[Alexsezia] Eyes pop with tears and she gives a small cry of pain- Grinny! It's just me, wake up!
[Grinny] Growling-
[Alezsexia] gently squeezes his jaw from the sides to get his teeth off her hand- owww! Grinny stop!
[Grinny] Hisses-
[Alexsezia] Gently works herself loose from his grip- are you even awake?
[Grinny] - Yesssss...
[Alexsezia] Cradling her bleeding hand- that must have been quite a nightmare...
[Grinny] - More of a memory
[Alexsezia] It can be both. - she gets up to pull a splash potion from  one of the bedroom trunks. -
[Grinny] Watches her as he curls himself up-
[Alexsezia] Slathers the potion on her hand and sighs in relief- I'm not mad, I understand. I haven't slept with TLOT, but I've been near enough if he's passed out on his own to hear him thrash and scream.
[Grinny] - And I care why?
[Alexsezia] I know you don't, but I understand. I'm not dismissing your pain by calling them nightmares. That's all.
[Grinny] Growls a little, but he's starting to calm down a little-
[Alexsezia] Starting to feel a bit more grounded again?
[Grinny] - Shut up
[Alexsezia] Has a thought - Grinny? Has anyone ever loved you? Like did you ever have a special person?
[Grinny] Tail flick and scoff- Of course not
[Alexsezia] You don't even like the other creepypastas?
[Grinny] - There are some I tolerate more than others
[Alexsezia] what makes those few different?
[Grinny] - They're just not as annoying to me
[Alexsezia] gives him a thoughtful look- it's because you don't like being touched, isn't it?
[Grinny] Eyes narrow at Alexsezia- I don't like many things in general
[Alexsezia] Am I right though? I won't touch you if you don't like that.
[Grinny] - I'll tolerate touches from some...  It was better when I still had my fur
[Alexsezia] That's not really the same as liking it though. Tell you what, I'll just offer you a hand now and again and you can busk if you're feeling it. I won't push you. I'm sorry about your fur, but you do look rather serious and intimidating without it.  
[Grinny] Huffs and looks away-
[Alexsezia] aww, I mean it. Especially when you give me your suspicious look.
[Grinny] - Why don't you just go and fill the food bowl
[Alexsezia] Would you like anything in particular?
[Grinny] - I don't care
[Alexsezia] Okay. - she hops up and leaves the door open as she bustles about. She lays out lots of food for the other cats and even releases a few mice for them to chase. She comes back with a bowl for Grinny alone (now that the others are all occupied) - it's lobster and fish with a bit of cheese on the side. - not too much cheese, I don't want you to have a tummy ache- she sets it down near him but not close enough for him to knock it off the bed without getting up first.
[Grinny] Waits for her to back off a bit, and the smell is certainly enticing.  He approaches and sniffs at it, it smells too good for him to resist eating till Alexsezia is gone from the room and he takes his first few bites-
[Alexsezia] I do have a small question for you too... Grinny, can you read?
[Grinny] Pauses in his eating- A little, why?
[Alexsezia] Just a passing thought. You eat, I'm going out for a little bit.
[Grinny] - You can stay out
[Alexsezia] Chuckles a little- yeah yeah. - She shuts the door but the little one block opening will still let him leave the room if he wants. She heads outside and messages Doc long enough to have a new item 'given' to her directly, admin style. She saddles Smudge and hops him over the pen before galloping out towards the savannah.
[BEN] He's having a smoke out on one of the hills-
[Alexsezia] Pauses her horse and trots him around a bit until she finds the creepypasta. She gives him a friendly wave- Hey BEN!
[BEN] - Hm?
[Alexsezia] Hops off the horse and sets down a post before tying him up to it. - You look relaxed. Taking a break from babysitting duties?
[BEN] - Thinking about what horse to give Hyrule, I'd love to teach him on Epona but...  I lost her a long time ago...
[Alexsezia] Lost? Doesn't your game have a function for if you lose your horse?
[BEN] - It's part of the game itself, Majora took her
[Alexsezia] That's lame. Do you rescue her if you beat the game?
[BEN] - Not in my version
[Alexsezia] That sucks. I'm sorry. Could you beg a horse from Lie? She has lots and then you'd have your pick of colors at least.
[BEN] - I've thought about it, so why are you out here?
[Alexsezia] I need an expert and you seem like the perfect person to ask.
[BEN] - Expert on what?
[Alexsezia] Smiles widely- pissing people off.
[BEN] - Who are we pissing off?
[Alexsezia] Everyone not us probably. - She takes out a command block and sets it down before pulling up a little screen. - I need this computer protected. Unhackable, and anonymous.
[BEN] - Give me a few minutes.  The only one who would be able to figure this out relatively quickly would be CP, but that's only because he's lived with me...- He starts manipulating the command block
[Alexsezia] Just assume it might be attacked remotely, that's my main concern.
[BEN] - Got it- After a few more minutes he floats up- And there you go
[Alexsezia] Absolute perfection! Nothing feels nicer then prepping the perfect gift. Is there anything I can do for you? I can always capture a horse for you if you don't want to ask Lie.
[BEN] - Nah, I'm good
[Alexsezia] Pulls a rather large sandwich out of her inventory with a smile. - Not even this? You can prolong your quiet time a bit.
[BEN] - That does look good...- He takes the sandwhich
[Alexsezia] Takes the block and gets back on her horse- You're the best. Thanks BEN. Give my good regards to your housemates and kiddo. - She rides back towards her house-
[Grinny] Has fought a few cats over his food and left a pile of barf for Alexsezia right in front of her door after peeing in a corner of the room-
[Alexsezia] Comes back in with a sigh - did someone miss the box???
[Grinny] Licks his paw a little- What box?
[Alexsezia] narrowly avoids the pile of puke- Oh dear... was this you? Should I not give you cheese?
[Grinny] - It was a different cat
[Alexsezia] Ah, probably a hairball then. - She cleans it up and then sniffs around for the pee before breaking out the soiled block and replacing it with a random cobble from her inventory.
[Grinny] - You came back quickly
[Alexsezia] I took a horse and I found the person I was seeking rather easily. I brought you a present.
[Grinny] Sarcastically- Oh joy
[Alexsezia] Sets the command block down with a stair block butted up to it like a chair. - I got you a computer.
[Grinny] - And what purpose would that serve for me?
[Alexsezia] You can fuck with humans, all day long, and they can't do anything about it. - She pulls up 4chan - you have talk to text too. Just paw around for the mouse and say stuff to type. You're anon and BEN made this computer hack-proof.
[Grinny] - I'd rather not interact with humans at all
[Alexsezia] But you can insult them here and they can't do anything about it. They won't even know you're a cat.
[Grinny] - I don't care
[Alexsezia] Aww.... well... it's there if you want to use it. It's got normal internet access for whatever.
[Grinny] Tail flick-
[Alexsezia] I'll just leave it on. I've got potions to make.
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hellforcertain · 6 years
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i like how one of the few reasons i can pinpoint when about i got sick is that i can use snowmageddon (late 2014/early 2015) as a starting point 
this is really long and i’d appreciate you not reblogging this but i don’t think i’ve ever written any of this out, and i would keep it private somewhere else but i kinda want to feel idk. validated? i never really put it into words like this until now. would also appreciate if you respond to this in some way (either a like or a reply) if you read it.
[cw for suicidal ideation in one part; skip the paragraph that begins “at some point that spring...”, after i talk abt my grandpa, if you don’t want to read it. it’s referenced in the next paragraph too. idk if there’s anything else i really need to warn for, but tell me if i do.]
i injured my knee thanksgiving 2013, when i was a sophomore. i was hiking in the hills around my parents’ house with some of my cousins, and it had snowed recently so everything was slick and slippery, and at one point my feet slid out from under me and i tumbled down an incline until my right knee connected with a tree. that thankfully stopped my fall but like, at what cost.
it was so bad that jo had to half-support me walking the couple blocks from our dorms to tufts to have an x-ray done in december 2013, which had been recommended by emerson’s health center (which was a joke; when i saw... i think an NP, she had to flip through a book until she found the “knee” section before she examined me). i couldn’t attend several classes of one of my courses the rest of that semester bcos it was in the building furthest from my dorm and i could barely walk there; i barely made it to the final. i never heard from the health center about the x-ray, so i figured that at least it wasn’t broken. it still bothered me but it became more manageable than it had been (not entirely tho bcos iirc i failed or didn’t complete two courses spring 2014, but that was also bcos of the undiagnosed adhd).
i moved directly into the studio from my sophomore dorm in may 2014, and lived there until june 2015 (which encompassed my junior year until i dropped out in november 2014).
my parents wanted me to fly down to spend a week in florida with them in august 2014, and i think this is what happened: the morning before i left on that flight i rolled off my futon badly and banged my bad knee against the (hardwood) floor really hard. i was in pain for a lot of that trip -- flying certainly didn’t help matters -- and when i got back it didn’t get better so i bought a cane a couple weeks before classes started back so i could get used to it before i had to use it to get to class.
(at the end of that trip, my mom forced me to let her clean out my ear with a qtip, jabbed it in too far and fucked up my ear, and then the next day i got on a plane back to boston and the issue got so bad i couldn’t walk down the street without holding onto a wall. i don’t think my eardrum burst or anything because it was better by the time i actually got to see a specialist about it and i haven’t suffered any permanent effects from it as far as i can tell, but at times it felt like it.)
i bought a cane in mid august 2014, and i know bcos i ordered it off amazon. the florida trip might have been in mid august, so there’s a possibility i banged my knee on the floor before the florida trip, and bought the cane when i realized i wouldn’t be able to walk in florida without it.
i know i reinjured my knee in august 2014, and i know i bought a cane then, and i know i also damaged my eardrum in august 2014 when i was in florida (well, my mom damaged it). i’m not sure exactly what order those took place in.
it got worse as the semester progressed, and i started doing less and less well in my courses, because not only was i dealing with the still-undiagnosed adhd, i was also in a lot of pain all the time. i remember making the conscious decision to stop going to my spanish class bcos the professor would have us stand up and walk around the class and talk to each other a lot and i couldn’t manage standing up for even that long, and i was so scattered and so fucked up from middle & high school that i couldn’t ask for help and the easier option was just to stop attending. i made the decision to go on medical leave late that semester -- probably in november or december 2014, i can’t remember which. there was the death of a family friend who i had been close to around that time too, and i was in too much pain and too swamped with trying to catch up on all these courses i hadn’t been attending to fly to florida and attend her funeral, which was another stone on top of all the others weighing me down (when i told my parents i had dropped out, i told them that it was her death that sent me into a breakdown, which wasn’t entirely a lie; i just didn’t tell them i’d been having a breakdown for months up until then).
i started getting sick and feeling pain that i couldn’t explain at all -- sure, i knew why my knee hurt, but i didn’t know why my joints were stiff and painful, and why i was hurting randomly separately from the joint pain. it got so bad that some days i had to crawl to get to the bathroom, and it was only a handful of steps away from my bed. i stopped doing my t shots bcos it was too much effort when i hurt so much already -- it got to the point that my periods started back up again, though i only had them very rarely. i think the only thing i managed to do was go to my shifts as desk guy in one of the dorms on campus.
when i went to visit my parents at some point, my mom thought it was just bcos i needed to get in shape and lose some weight to lessen the stress on my bad knee. tbh i don’t know when that happened, i just knew it was when i was still a student bcos i went to the gym once with a friend and it was really fuckin painful and terrible and just made everything worse. she might have said that when we were in florida, actually. idk.
living in the studio meant i lived totally alone, but jo was there a lot bcos i had an extra bed (i’d bought a loft bed bcos i wanted one and had never had one as a kid and this place had high ceilings, but i’d also bought a futon for cheap off a guy who was moving out of the building, which turned out to be a real blessing when i couldn’t make it up the ladder to the loft bed; when jo stayed at the computer labs late working on projects, they’d come crash on my loft bed bcos my building was near campus and by the time the labs closed, the t had stopped running) and i made kinda-friends with the security desk guy
that fall and winter i’d say i saw delivery guys more often than i saw my own friends (bcos i literally couldn’t handle the walking that grocery shopping would have required, and i didn’t know abt grocery delivery services at the time. idk if they were even a thing at the time). all “groceries” were bought at the cvs down the block, bcos they had things like butter and shredded cheese and tortillas (i ate a lot of tortillas that year) and pre-cut fruit, and the walgreens across the street from cvs had frozen burger patties that i think set off the smoke alarm every time i cooked them; anything else i ate was from delivery guys. i dissociated a lot that year, very very badly, and some delusional tendencies i’d had in high school came rearing back up. 
bcos i couldn’t do much else i threw myself into this site (esp on one of my sideblogs), and if you look at the amount of stuff i reblogged/posted then vs now you’d see that i had p much no other life. which was... not good but i also made some really good and valuable friendships then -- including em so like, not everything from then turned out bad. sadly, a lot of irl friendships stagnated, and it wasn’t the other party’s fault. i also played a lot of skyrim bcos it was one of like. two games i owned for my ps3, and even though the rest of me hurt a lot, my hands were surprisingly okay.
(i also went through a series of nb identities and pronouns that never really fit bcos that was the heyday of tumblr’s whole “if ur a trans man ur evil for wanting to be a man, u should be nb instead” phase and i was far too concerned with all that bcos like i said, i didn’t have much of a life outside this site at the time.)
i don’t recall much of thanksgiving or christmas breaks at my parents’, except that i got my name legally changed during i think christmas break 2014. iirc we had to reschedule my flight back to boston bcos i had to wait an extra day to be able to get everything done that i needed to, and bcos we needed to change the name on the flight. i remember crying at some official bcos they said that they couldn’t get me a new... driver’s license maybe? until a couple days down the road, but i had to be back for college by then and i have everything else done please just let me get my license today. and since it’s a small town in the south they totally folded, thankfully. i was just very stressed at that point, i hadn’t even meant to cry at them.
then snowmageddon happened in early 2015, and classes were cancelled and roads were closed and the t like, half shut down until like may. it was especially bad for me because most of my friends were in allston and they couldn’t exactly get downtown to hang out with me much. iirc, my friend who was an RA left college around the same time i did, maybe a few months before? i think i was still working desk shifts when they left, so it had to have been before i did.
march 2015 was good and bad: during jo’s spring break (and what would have been mine if i had still been in college), we escaped the snow and took their car on a roadtrip down the blue ridge parkway (well. that was the plan but it was closed thanks to the snow, so we drove down I-95 and ended up in asheville nc like two days after our leisurely road trip started. i turned 21 on that roadtrip, and so no longer had to rely on my friends to buy me alcohol, which was nice. we celebrated it at this local restaurant in whatever town we’d stopped at that night, and all i remember is that you could buy steaks from a counter at the front, and the drink i ordered for myself was incredibly orange.
my grandpa also died that march; he’d actually been dying since february, but i didn’t go to see him then; jo and i were in knoxville tn at one point, and my parents wanted me to drive up since knoxville is only like three hours from my hometown, but by then he was p much in a coma so it wouldn’t really be visiting, would it, and also it would have been mega unfair to drag jo into that mess. iirc his funeral was that april, bcos there was a funeral service at my parents’ church where he occasionally preached at, and then one at the mennonite church he attended after moving in with us, and then they had to get him to ohio for the big service (which was the one i attended).
(this was the grandpa who thought i was possessed by a demon for being trans so like. lmao. didn’t mourn him much then, and still haven’t.)
at some point that spring, after the spring break roadtrip and grandpa’s funeral, my dysphoria got really really really bad, bad enough to trigger the most suicidal episode i’d had since middle school/high school. it was a culmination of the negative thoughts and feelings i’d been having since i moved into this place (which had only worsened as i got sicker and when winter hit). i didn’t do anything, but i had to call a friend every time i left the building for like a week so that i didn’t walk into traffic. 
i moved out of the studio at the end of april or may of 2015, and went back to live with my parents for a bit because the lease for my text apartment didn’t start until september 2015 (since i was living with friends/former classmates who were still in school and weren’t going to be in boston until classes started back up in september). moving out was an Ordeal bcos my dad came up to help me and brought my sister, who hated boston so much that she was on the edge of a panic attack the whole time, which made her impossible to deal with. at one point we got into a fight over something super minor and it escalated and ended with her screaming at the top of her lungs, in my empty echoey studio that had the door open so god and all my neighbors could hear, that she wished i was dead. this was not the first or last time she expressed this sentiment, and was tame compared to some (like the time she said she’d stab me in my sleep). i told her i’d been suicidal weeks earlier and she left the building to go take something to the car and when i didn’t follow her (bcos i was cooling off), she freaked out and had a panic attack all over our dad. she didn’t tell him why, or that she was at fault, and when i came down a few minutes later he ripped into me until i stopped and told him what she had said. so, yknow. a fun final memory of that apartment.
i think that was when my mom finally acknowledged that my pain wasn’t just a weight thing, and that i should actually see someone when i got back to boston. my symptoms got worse too: i started having horrible pain in my hands, to the point that i couldn’t move them, and none of us really knew what to do. i found some compression gloves online and begged my mom to let me get them but she kept refusing because she was worried i’d mess my hands up worse with them, and i still don’t entirely understand that train of thought, because i was like, screaming crying at them because i was hurting so so much, and some compression gloves couldn’t have been worse than that (and i finally pointed out that they were gloves; i could take them off if they were hurting more than helping). they finally relented, thankfully. 
june 2015 was the first time i met em in person; i decided, almost on impulse, to take a week and drive down to florida and spend the week with them bcos they were living with their grandparents at the time and their grandparents were going to be out of town for like a week. they played a lot of fnv on their ps3 while i played don’t starve on my laptop. the place had a guest bedroom that was technically mine, but i don’t think i ever used it except to get changed; we tended to pass out in weird positions on em’s bed. we didn’t get much else done bcos i discovered that florida weather + my joints wasn’t a great combo, but it was still an amazing week.
that same summer i also got fitted for my knee brace. i think that same summer i got some treatments from a sports medicine doctor my mom is friends with. possibly steroid injections? i’d have to ask her. 
i moved into the medford house with some friends in september 2015, and dear lord was that a mess. the roommates were great, don’t get me wrong, but the house had mice we had to take care of, there was a gas leak at one point bcos the stove’s knobs didn’t work right and didn’t shut off the gas when we turned them off, the boiler was a broken leaky piece of shit that would shut itself off every like two days bcos the water level got so low (contrast the place we’re living in now, where we had to go put more water in the boiler maybe like. three times all winter), the landlord and his wife were total creeps and freaks -- he would only respond to my email even though my roommates tried to open lines of communication at various times, and one time i woke up with her in my bedroom bcos she was checking the radiator (which wasn’t working bcos the boiler wasn’t working and they refused to fix or replace it until winter was over) and she had the audacity to chew me out for my space heater. i was fucking sick, lady. give me a fucking break. the best thing, hands down, about the medford place was there was a corner store with a good deli across the street, so i could go in my pajamas to get a good sandwich and a box of fries. great place, great people.
i got referred to a rheumatologist that fall, and my first appointment with him was in november (i also at some point... i think in spring of 2015 started using testogel, because i wouldn’t have been able to get the stuff for injections refilled while i was in kentucky. i don’t remember when i switched back to injections but i did at some point while living at the medford house, which i once again was terrible at keeping up with).
at the time, my deadname was still on my insurance bcos even tho i’d changed my name earlier that year, i was still on my parents’ insurance and my dad wouldn’t fucking change my name there and wouldn’t give me the information to do it myself. my rheumatologist took one look at me and how i was responding to being called my deadname, and he asked if there was another name i went by that i’d be more comfortable with, and i was rarely called my deadname again after that (and only by a couple nurses until they got to know me better). ofc that stopped being an issue when i switched to my own masshealth plan (in early 2017 i think?).
he listened to the whole mess of a story, felt my joints, and then poked at the middle of my chest (which i now know is a common fibro trigger point). when i recoiled back bcos that hurt far more than it should have, he said “yep that looks fibro-y.” i don’t remember if i suggested fibro and/or rheumatoid arthritis, or if he did. he prescribed me some medications -- including tramadol, my savior that winter. i’d been taking tramadol already bcos i’d had some left over from... i think lasik, and a friend had given me some percocet for very bad days. i was so unused to the tramadol back then that it’d throw me for a loop, occasionally make me nauseated, and also knock me out. it was p great.
back then i’d have to ask my roommate danny to open like, water or pop bottles nine times out of ten bcos i just couldn’t. now, i can’t remember the last time i had a serious problem opening bottles on a consistent basis. there have been some bad days where i couldn’t, but it’s not like that’s all the time.
i improved in fits and starts after that; i can’t remember all the meds i tried with him, but i’m sure they’re in a file somewhere that i could request. i still wasn’t doing anywhere near good, but it was better than before -- if only, maybe, bcos i wasn’t dealing with this totally on my own. but you know what didn’t help? that house’s terrible fucking boiler. we’d wake up some days in the middle of winter and it’d be in the 50s inside the house, and i was the only one who knew how to fix the boiler (i’d taught the roommates, including the subletter we got when danny left for a semester in LA, but apparently the only one who could go down the stairs to take care of it was the fuckin cripple).
spring 2016 was awesome bcos i’d gotten a ps4 and destiny for christmas, and the subletter we got had two cats who i loved and who loved me, and everything was beautiful even tho i definitely still hurt a lot. i can’t remember much of note during this period, health-wise. it was mostly more of the same, but on top of it was trying to balance playing a shooter and having shitty hands that didn’t want me down anything with them.
summer 2016, when i was still in the medford house, em came to visit me (among other people -- they roadtripped up over the course of a couple weeks) and spent several days there. i had plans to take them to do touristy stuff in boston, but that never happened haha. and like we don’t have a solid date on when we got together bcos long-distance stuff can be fuzzy about things like that but that visit was our first kiss.
in september 2016 i moved into the allston apartment, and the less i say about that the better. i started back with a therapist in like february 2017; i hadn’t been to a therapist for years by this time, bcos my previous therapist had moved to a different office in the network and then left the area and i had never gotten back in touch with her after she moved to the other office. i also started on testopel, because injections were once again not working out.
that apartment was p much like living in the studio bcos even tho i had two roommates, it was an apartment i’d found in an emerson group centered on finding roommates, so i hadn’t known either of them beforehand; i wasn’t really living with them; we just happened to share some common spaces. health-wise i improved some as we found medications that worked for me, but i was still not doing even close to good. i had trouble going grocery shopping even though the grocery store was only a handful of blocks away because various parts of me would hurt too much to handle it, and by the time i was halfway home i would be almost dead. so, yknow. not a great time overall.
in september of 2017 i moved into this house with em and jo, and it’s been a fantastic decision bcos im finally living with people who care about me and will kick my ass into shape if i need it. em finally made me go to my rheumatologist and be like “so i know i’ve been saying i’ve been fine but i moved in with my partner recently and they’ve pointed out that im doing less fine than i said bcos i’d brushed off a lot of things as normal that they’ve told me are not, in fact, normal”, which was when he prescribed flexeril, and i think that’s helped me more than almost anything else has. holy shit. im taking a higher dose than my father (who’s like 6′1″ and has at least a hundred pounds on me) can handle but it’s working for me. i also went back to t injections a couple months ago bcos i didn’t enjoy missing everything for a week bcos it took forever for the testopel spot to heal, and i couldn’t sit on the spot until it healed; plus now that i’m living with em, they can remind me when i forget to do my shot. also, after a lot of fits and starts and panic over the last few years, im finally talking with a surgeon about top surgery. 
overall like, i went back and looked at a lot of posts i made several years ago to get dates for this point, and i can barely recognize myself in some of those posts. my illnesses had ground everything else away, until all that was the physical pain and the emotional anguish, and i wish i could tell my past self that it gets better: that he’ll find medications that work for him and he’ll move in with people who he loves and love him back, and that it’s not all sunshine and rainbows here in 2018 but it’s so much better. 2015 me definitely deserved that.
and that’s true: that i’m not cured, and i still have very bad days, but i’m also having more and more good days -- days that were unthinkable back then. i’m on medications that help me physically, and i’ve been diagnosed with adhd and am on a medication that helps me mentally. when i flew down to kentucky earlier this month to attend my sister’s graduation, my dad remarked on how much better i was walking and moving just compared to thanksgiving. i can’t even imagine comparing myself now to myself a few years ago. i think i’m going to save this post so that when i’m feeling down about being sick, i can remind myself how far i’ve come, and how much i’ve weathered so far; whatever storm comes next, i think i’ll be able to handle it.
idk where i was trying to go with this, but it ended up a super overly long chronicle of the last few years. so uh. yeah. like i mentioned before, i’d appreciate if you show that you read all this, either with a like or a reply, esp if you get to the end
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sainadazai · 3 years
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Chapter 1
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Welcome to U.A highschool!
How you got in, you had no clue, but you were thrilled none-the-less as you approached the large building on the first day of school. See, compared to the others at your entrance exam, you hadn't really stood out.
It was a really tough time considering your whole life was spent getting ready for that moment, but you truly underestimated the people you were up against.
One boy, was flying around on burst of fire, knocking out robot after robot, and you were knelt on the floor still disassembling your first one. Throughout it you couldnt stop comparing your own skills to everyone else's, and everyone else seemed better.
So it came as a huge suprise when a hologram of all-might himself announced that you had been scored second place out of all the applicants. Coming in at 68 points. Maybe the stress kept you from actually counting how many robots you had rendered immobile, or completely turned to mush.
After thinking about it, the test really had been catered to your quirk, you were bound to succeed. Quirk- metal shift vs a ton of robots? Why had you been so worried?
The confidence boost from your score led you to this day, a prideful glint in your eyes as you marched through the halls of U.A. trying to find your class.
Rounding a corner, the sight of a large door with 1A on it met your eyes. Why had the door been so tall? Would there be giants in your class? Is that even a quirk that exists?
So many questions circled your mind, as well as excitement. See, spending your earlier years training all the time had really impacted your social life, or lack-there-of. Being busy means no friends, being a nerd means no friends, being cocky means, you guessed it- no friends.
A hero school had to be different, though. Everyone here would understand the need to focus on work, theyd just be able to work together with you. Opening the door, your face held excitement for the possible friends on the other side. Excitement to have conversations with people, instead of your cat, mochi.
What you didnt account for was how scary it would be for somebody who spent the last 16 years being friends with a cat, to talk to other girls. Or boys. Or anyone.
"Hi, my names mina ashido! I saw you at the exam. Your so cool!"
There she was, a pink skinned girl with beautiful curly hair shaking around in an afro as she spoke. Her black and yellow eyes shiny and focused on you. She had you cornered between her well-toned body and the door, jumping around and advancing.
It must've been years since anyone but your mom had called you 'cool'. Must have been months since another kid innitiated conversation with you. Were you meant to know what to say? Were you supposed to be sorry? That was ussually what you said when people confronted you like this at your old school.
A smile was spread across her round cheeks, so she must not be upset with you. Was it an upset smile? Well, best to just apologize and wait to talk to someone more calm.
You tried to tame your wide eyes and flustered stance before looking the ground and muttering an apology.
Little did you know how her face dropped in confusion at the interaction. She had just wanted to make friends after all. Mina had really not understood the apology either, sure that she had definitely given you a complement.
However a green haired boy entered the room and she was quickly distracted.
A new problem arose now. Where to sit? The plan to be friendly and extroverted had taken a fatal plumet, so in the old y/ns nature, you settled at the seat closest to the back. A boy with dual colored hair sat in the desk next to you, looking fairly unbothered by the other students.
Assuming this wasn't on purpose, you figured you'd try again with the friends thing. So after setting your bag down and sitting quietly in your seat. Allowing the ruffles of your skirt to become even more-so.
"Uhm, hi?" You tilted your head at him, in question with yourself.
His eyes lifted from what he was reading to see if he recognized you, when he didn't they returned to his book. Staring only a side glance.
Well there goes your big ol ego from the exam results. Guess you'll take a jump back into the sea of self doubt.
You slumped sadly in your seat, the boy was quite pretty, hair vibrant red and shining white. Pale skin, all over except for a large scar over his eye. You wondered if it hurt? Or was it old enough to just be a painful memory? Was it even a scar, it could be a birthmark?
Thoughts circled your head like that often, you were just always so curious. How could you not be curious when you knew so little?
Shifting uncomfortable in your seat, and relentlessly shraightening your uniform you caught on to the other conversations in the room.
A mean looking boy sat with his feet on the desk, while another frantically told him to stop. It was quite the funny scene, you even found yourself smiling at it. How can it be so easy for them, you wished you had maybe taken more time to read on social dynamics before applying here.
Maybe you could read more about it when you got home? I'd be nice to interact like that some day.
A green haired boy looked very flustered as he spoke with a female classmate. Everyone seemed to be in the class, you counted 20 people.
"If your just here to make friends then you can pack up your stuff now"
I looked all around me but couldnt tell where that deep voice came from. Must be an authoritive figure, or else why would he threaten our places here?
Still not finding the origin of the voice, it spoke again.
"Welcome to U.A.'s hero course.." The monotone of it was quite jarsh, but the voice was soothing in a way. Deep and rumbley and soothing? Your thoughts were getting ahead of you, really.
Then, over by the entrance, a yellow caterpillar stood up and unzipped itself. Wait, what?
Out stepped a black haired man, dressed in a long sleave shirt.
"It took eight seconds for you to shut up, thats not gonna work. Time is precious."
He completely dropped his shell of yellow to the floor.
"Rational students would understand that."
Four students stood right in front of the man, shock and disbelief on their faces. Why hadnt they realized he is our teacher? Are they dumb? If so, how'd they get into U.A.?
From the way he refered to us and his assertive tone, he must be the teacher. Thats also made obvious by our current lack of teacher, him being the only adult in the room. What was that yellow thing though?
"Hello, Im shota aizawa, your teacher."
Yes, you knew that. However, it seems everyone surrounding you was taken aback by this. All simotaneously gasping at his statement.
"Right, lets get to it, put these on and head outside" he held up a p.e. uniform, clear enough instruction.
So students shuffled around to grab uniforms and head to bathrooms til we all made it outside.
-
"What!? A quirk assesment test!?" The whole class question, too loudly for your liking.
However you did question on the inside. It would make sense your teacher wanted to scope your abilities now, that way progress could be measurable. It would also help him know what he is working with.
A squeaky voiced girl worried about missing orientation, but you were dreaming that anyway. You wanted to be a hero, and it wasnt allowed to use your quirk elsewhere. So this was possibly the best start to the day.
"You've been taking standardized tests most of your lives, but you never got to use your quirk before."
Bold of him to assume. You hadn't actually learned that cheating was bad until the age of 10 so, until then, you used your quirk for everything. Cheating tests included, but it would be fun to see how this played out.
The faces around you were all focused and stiff, ready for whatever task this would present. The dual haired boy being amongst those stiff faces, but his seemed almost bored. He didn't really act like he wanted to be her at all.
That made you mad, why even come if you don't wanna be here? Its so hard to get in here, and there were other people like you out there, who have wanted this since they were born. He would waste a spot just so he could be bored?
"Bakugou, you managed to get the most points on the entrance exam," Mr.Aizawa adresses that boy you were worried about.
You remembered his face, how he was beating you so fluidly the whole time. However, if he scored highest, your only one rank below him. Hope he is a strong competidor for first, so it'll be all the more glorifying when you take that spot from under him.
"What was your furthest throw with a softball, when you were in junior high?"
"67 meters i think..."
"Right. Try doing it with your quirk. "
-
"Anything goes, just stay in the circle. Go on, your wasteing our time."
"Alright man, you asked for it.." He stretched his arms, confidence written all over his face.
What a fun rival, if only you could actually speak with him. If this is what all of you will have to do, not sure how succecful you can be. You quirk is awesome for sparring and combat, but throwing a ball? Your gonna have to figure that one out quick, before you start of the year with a bad grade.
The blonde swung his arm back, and around in a baseball pitch motion. Then as he release it, some sort of explosion emmited from his hand. Softball no where to be seen, you glanced around at my fellow students. Shock, especially the green haired boy, they were all shocked.
You wanted to be shocked, but you were aware of his power, he really didn't go all out in the entrance exam at all. This blasting was way stronger than what you saw him using on robots.
Yet, you werent shocked, you were impressed, excited, thrilled to have other strong quirks around.
You had to know everyones quirks as soon as possible, you had to make friends. This is why you came here, to be a hero. So when you glanced to your side, at the scar boy with a stone face, another thing was added to your list.
You were gonna get him to want to talk to you.
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imaginetonyandbucky · 6 years
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‘we’re on a roadtrip with some friends and we have to share a hotel room and there’s only one bed and a whole lot of sexual tension’ AU Would be nice if it was smutty. Steve and Sam totally set them up. Later Bucky and Tony realise they are both fools since they've been in love with each other since the beginning of their acquaintance.
A/N: I went way overboard on my first run at this prompt - that version is going up on AO3.  
So Open Up, I’m Climbin’ In
“You know, Sam,”  Tony groused, “just because Rhodey deputized you as my new best friend when he deployed doesn’t mean you have to drag me along on all your shenanigans.”  
“C’mon, Tony,” Sam pled.   “Just see what they have to say.”
“You hardly know these guys and you wanna get stuck driving three quarters of the way across the country with them?”  
“Steve was my partner on that group project from hell in my Structural Integrity class last semester,” Sam responded. “We bonded through adversity.   I kinda feel like I owe the guy.”
“But Bruce and I are at an important place in our project.”   Tony knew he was making excuses, but he had a bit of an ulterior motive.
Bruce Banner, Tony’s  ‘science bro’  was a pre-med major with a focus on neurobiology; it had been his idea to explore the possibility of developing an external neural interface to control an upper limb prosthetic. This would allow for less expensive prosthetics to be produced.
Bruce reached out to Tony for his programming and electronics skills, and they’d managed to talk a couple of their professors into supporting the effort.   The fact that Stark Industries had made quite a large donation to the school recently certainly didn’t hurt;  thanks to this act of quasi-nepotism, Tony and Bruce were able to score a private lab area and even offer compensation to their test subjects. Enter J.B. Barnes, a fellow student who was missing the lower two-thirds of his left arm due to a car accident the previous year.    
[more under the cut]
Tony found himself making excuses to hang out in the lab,  because Barnes was absolutely gorgeous.  Long, dark hair, a strong jawline, legs that went on for days, and stunning blue-grey eyes.  Sure, he had a bit of a Resting Murder Face going on,  and he didn’t talk much; which was a shame, since Tony could have listened to that smoky baritone read an error log and still probably pop a boner.  The day he walked in the lab to see a shirtless Barnes – Bruce was measuring his residual limb in order to start building the prosthetic – was one Tony still replayed in his mind.
So it was a hell of a shock to walk into the diner where he and Sam had agreed to meet Rogers and his friend and see a familiar face: Rogers’ pal was none other than Barnes.   Apparently the two of them had known each other since they were kids and had always wanted to go see the Grand Canyon.  Rogers – a shrimpy, artsy type – did most of the talking, while Tony wondered what he’d done to piss off Lady Fate lately.  
“Me ‘n Buck were never much for the crazy Spring Break beach vacations, but figured this would be kind of a last hurrah before we graduate and start our careers.” Rogers explained. “Figure with another driver or two, we can actually make the trip without killing ourselves or each other.  So, are you guys in?”
Tony had never done anything like this before – his family vacations had involved exotic locations and having every wish catered to – but it sounded like an adventure to him and having Barnes as a travel companion was a definite bonus.  Sam was up for it as well,  so they hashed  out a basic route and other logistics. And just a few days later, they were piling into Rogers’ car and getting on the road.
They had to average about six hundred miles a day to get there and back within the nine and a half days they had available to them,  so there wasn’t much time for sightseeing.   They hit a couple of  landmarks along the route –  Niagara Falls  and  the Gateway Arch in St. Louis were the highlights on the way out, and Sam had lobbied hard to stop at the National Air Force Museum in Dayton, Ohio on the way back.   But the majority of the trip was spent in the car and in close quarters.
While Tony had loaded his tablet up with movies and books, he found himself being pulled out of his shell, mostly by Sam but also by his other travel mates as they talked to pass the time.   Bucky and Steve were Brooklyn boys, born and bred and  Sam was happy to talk about growing up in Baltimore with his extended family.
Tony was probably the most reticent, as just about anything he said would come out sounding like he was a spoiled brat.  After all, the name Stark was emblazoned on skyscrapers on both coasts, and he’d grown up in a mansion with servants at his (well, his parents’) beck and call.  But he had a few innocuous anecdotes he felt comfortable sharing, and was able to hold up his end of the conversation well enough.
One bit of surprisingly pleasant news was that Barnes was both gay and single; he’d recently broken up with his boyfriend, who sounded like a real asshole.   Tony knew a little something about that; after a disastrous attempt at a romantic Valentine’s Day the month before  – romance and Ty Stone apparently being polar opposites – Tony had given his own boyfriend the boot.  
He and Bucky – Tony had finally accepted the idea that a grown man was going by the name  ‘Bucky’ – also found themselves bonding over a love of science fiction, arguing good-naturedly about the best novels by the Golden Age writers vs the New Wave and more modern writers.
Both of them had been inspired by their reading to pursue their majors - civil engineering for Bucky and  mechanical engineering and computer programming for Tony.  
“In fact,”  Tony said, “the computer on Star Trek and  Mike in The Moon is a Harsh Mistress got me interested in the idea of artificial intelligences.   I’m working on something along those lines myself.   Remind me to show you  Dum-E when we get back.”
“You named an artificial intelligence Dummy?” Bucky laughed and shook his head.  “Better let Banner have the naming rights on the rig you guys are working on.”
Tony bristled for a moment, then realized Bucky was just teasing him; apparently they’d reached that point in their burgeoning friendship.  “It stands for Digital Mechanical Entity,” he explained.   “He’s a robot with a learning algorithm.  Has independent control of his arm and camera.  I’m working on voice commands at the moment.”
“Sounds impressive. Maybe I could meet Dum-E sometime.”  Bucky smiled, and Tony felt his heart skip a beat. Thankfully,  Sam interrupted with the announcement of an impending pit stop, and Tony worked to regain his equilibrium.  
“You’ve got a thing for Bucky, don’tcha, Tones?”  Sam murmured as they stood together contemplating their junk food options.   Steve and Bucky were checking out, having already restocked.  
“No! Well, not really. Maybe?”   Yes, the guy was practically sex on legs, and they were getting along pretty well now that they’d found they had had interests in common.  However, Tony didn’t want to put that possible friendship in jeopardy by hitting on the guy and making the rest of the trip awkward.  “But nothing’s gonna happen.  He’s way out of my league.”  
“Uh-huh.” Sam crossed his arms and looked unimpressed.
“Just drop it, Samwise.  I don’t want to ruin the party.”
They made it to the Grand Canyon  on Tuesday around noon and spent a few hours exploring the park, with plans to stay the night in Flagstaff before heading back home    Bucky made a  suggestion to visit the Lowell Observatory that evening. Tony was game, but – after exchanging a mysterious look – their companions demurred.  Sam had called ahead to the hotel and booked the last two rooms, saying that they’d have the front desk hold a key for them.  Tony had been sharing a room with Sam up to this point in the trip,  but supposed he could keep his developing crush on Bucky under wraps for one night.
The Observatory tour was entertaining and informative; they even got to take a peek through the Pluto Discovery Telescope.  As they walked back to the car, Tony reflected on how nice it was to spend time with someone who liked the same things he did.  It was almost as if they’d been out on a date together or something.  Not that Tony had a lot of experience with that.
The two of them stopped to grab a bite to eat on the way back to the hotel and lost track of time; it was almost eleven  o’clock by the time he and Bucky got back to the hotel.  The front desk clerk slid the room keycard over once they’d identified themselves.  “Have a lovely evening, gentlemen. Breakfast runs until ten in the morning.”
“Son of a bitch - I bet Sam did this on purpose!”   Tony fumed, looking around as he stepped in the room which contained a single king-sized bed. Quickly assessing his options, he added  “Listen, I’ll grab the bedspread and curl up in the chair or something.”
“Nah, that’s okay.” Bucky replied, giving Tony an assessing look.   “But why do you say this was on purpose?”  
Tony felt his cheeks heating as he replied,  “Sam seems to think I’ve got the hots for you.”  He hadn’t intended to be quite so blunt, but the long travel days must’ve gotten to him.
Instead of laughing, or looking annoyed or disgusted,  Bucky stepped right into Tony’s personal space.  “Well, do ya?”   His question was unexpectedly soft, and somehow hopeful.  
Tony, at a loss for words, simply nodded slightly.  “Good. ‘Cause the feeling’s mutual,”   Bucky purred, tilting his head down to capture Tony’s lips in an exploratory kiss.  His exhaustion evaporated as the kiss moved from something cautious and unsure to confident and insistent.  
Tony opened his mouth eagerly to Bucky’s questing tongue, reaching out to pull him closer, to feel that magnificent chest pressing against his. Bucky threaded his fingers through Tony’s hair to hold his head at the perfect angle, deepening the kiss.  
A hot rush of want ran through Tony’s veins as he realized Bucky was walking him backwards towards the bed, licking and nipping at his neck and collarbone. Tony wondered for a moment if they were jumping into the physical aspect too soon; but then again, the time they’d spent together easily equalled  four or five dates, and wasn’t that usually the ‘make it or break it’ point? But despite the pounding of his pulse and the heat and press of Bucky’s hardon against his leg, Tony wanted to clarify something; make sure things didn’t go too far too fast.  
“Just so you know, I wasn’t planning on getting laid on this trip, so I’m fresh out of condoms and lube.”  
“Same here,” Bucky replied with a rueful grin, panting slightly.  “But I can think of a coupla other things we could do.  I’ve been told I give good head – wanna find out for yourself, darlin?”
Tony’s knees went weak, as much at the unexpected endearment as the offer itself. “Sure, as long as I can return the favor, sunshine.”
Bucky grinned and tugged at the waistband of Tony’s jeans.  “Drop ‘em.”
Tony was eager to comply; hastily pushing the covers back to sit on the edge of the bed. He grabbed a pillow for Bucky to kneel on before stripping out of his jeans and briefs.  Trembling with anticipation, Tony couldn’t hold back a moan as Bucky sank to his knees and ran his hand up Tony’s thigh.  
“I figured you’d be a vocal kinda guy,” Bucky smirked. “S’always good to be appreciated.”  He wrapped his hand around Tony’s cock, giving it a few firm strokes before flicking his tongue against the tip.  That wrung a gasp from Tony, his hands flying out to grab blindly at Bucky’s shoulders.  
“God, yes, more,” he begged, as Bucky began sucking his dick.  Bucky hadn’t been exaggerating as to his skills; those plush, sinful lips and talented tongue were taking Tony apart.  The brush of Bucky’s long hair against his thighs combined with the slow circles his thumb was rubbing into Tony’s hipbone just added to the sensory overload.   He could feel the orgasm building in his system as Bucky bobbed up and down, taking practically all of Tony’s cock into his hot, wet mouth.
“M’ getting close, sweetheart,” Tony gasped.  “Where do you want me to come?”  He figured it was only polite to ask.
Bucky pulled off for a moment, squeezing the base of Tony’s cock tight. “Wanna taste ya, sugar.  Suck every last drop outta you.”  
The dirty talk combined with  Bucky swallowing Tony to the root was his undoing; Tony came hard, his keen of pleasure probably waking the neighbors. Bucky gentled him through the aftershocks; but instead of the lassitude he’d expected after such a strong climax,  Tony felt energized, hungry to give Bucky the same pleasure he’d just received.
“Allow me to join in the choir singing your praises,”  Tony said,  responding to Bucky’s questioning look.   “How and where do you want me to go down on you, hot stuff?”
“It’s not gonna take long,”  Bucky admitted. “Might as well get in bed, so’s we can fall asleep after.”     He stood and shimmied out of his jeans with more grace than Tony would have expected.   He paused before taking off his shirt,  and gave Tony a raised eyebrow.   Tony realized he was still wearing his AC/DC concert tee.
Tony skinned the shirt over his head before he could reconsider; his scars were nothing compared to what Bucky had gone through.  When he caught the brief widening of his companion’s eyes, he explained. “Heart murmur. Had to repair a valve or two, no biggie.”   It was easy to minimize now, a year or so after the fact.  “But enough about me.  Time to focus on you, sweetheart.”
Bucky finished undressing – a simple flesh-colored sock covered his stump – and stretched out on the bed,  an anticipatory grin on his face.  His cock was hard and throbbing; apparently he got turned on by giving head.  Good to know.   Tony prowled up Bucky’s body, claiming a hard, fierce kiss before moving down to nuzzle at his neck,  sucking marks across Bucky’s collarbone. His hands roamed restlessly over his partner’s body, tweaking a nipple here, reaching under to grab a handful of ass there, doing any and everything  that seemed to drive Bucky even further into the throes of passion.  
Bucky wasn’t exactly a quiet bedmate either; an almost continuous stream of gasps and moans pushing from his lips as he rutted shamelessly against Tony, leaving smears of precome on their skin.     “C’mon, darlin,” he begged,  “need to feel your mouth on my dick.  Show me just what kind of a cocksucker you are.”
Bucky was both longer and thicker than what Tony was used to – which, admittedly, was only Ty, and one anonymous mutual handjob outside a club late one night – , but ‘adapt and overcome’ wasn’t  Tony’s motto for nothing.  He  wrapped his fingers tightly around the base of Bucky’s cock, stroking up and down as he licked and sucked, swirling his tongue around the tip, alternating hollowing out his cheeks and pressing Bucky’s cock hard against the roof of his mouth.  
Bucky touched the back of Tony’s head.  “Can I?  Promise I won’t push or hold ya down or nothin’.”   Tony hummed his assent, and Bucky carded his fingers through Tony’s hair as he continued bobbing up and down.  “Wanna come down your throat, sugar.  Is that okay?”  
Tony responded by going as deep as he could, then coming back up with a grin.  “Toldja I’d return the favor.”   He took a breath, then swallowed down as much of Bucky’s cock as he could, fighting his gag reflex. Bucky was true to his word; even as he came; shaking and shuddering with a low, staccato moan, he didn’t hold Tony down or push him even deeper.  Tony looked up to see a sleepy, satisfied expression on Bucky’s face as he murmured “C’mere, darlin’.”
“So, in all that paperwork I filled out for your project,” Bucky drawled, as they got settled into a comfortable, spooning position, “I don’t recall nothing about a ban on fraternization. Is that right?”  
“As far as I can remember.  I’ll check with Bruce in the morning.”   Tony tried not to read too much into Bucky’s question, but fell asleep with a hopeful heart that whatever was going on between them could grow into something more than a one night stand.
“This,”  Tony declared as he looked around the table,  “is the best birthday ever. Thank you.”  He felt tears of joy stinging his eyes as he leaned over and blew out the candles on his cake.   What a contrast from the year before, when it had been just him and Rhodey and a stale cupcake from the dorm vending machine.   Or even just a few months earlier, before that crazy road trip, when he spent his weekends in front of his computer instead of spending time with people he cared about, and who cared about him.    
Sam had made the cake from his momma’s recipe, and once it was cut and passed around, out came the gifts.   Bruce had bought him a gigantic coffee mug, and Bruce’s girlfriend Betty,  who Tony had only met a couple of times, had knit him a scarf.  Steve presented Tony with a sketch of his favorite building on campus,  and Rhodey – whose presence was gift enough in Tony’s opinion – gave him a vintage physics book dated 1898, the same year the electron was discovered.  
Bucky had given Tony his present over breakfast – a bronze bracelet depicting the astrological symbols of Pluto and Charon.   Inside, it was inscribed “I am your moon, you are my moon.”   It was a perfect reminder of their visit to Lowell Observatory and the events of that night;  they’d both gotten a little misty eyed when Tony opened the box.
Now,  Bucky was sitting right next to Tony, his right arm wrapped casually around Tony’s waist as he slowly ate using the latest iteration of the prosthetic in a real-life test.   Tony wasn’t sure what he was prouder of;  the work that he and Bruce had put into creating the prosthetic and the interface, or the work Bucky had put in to learn how to use it.  Regardless, he found himself cheering internally each time another bite of cake was successfully consumed.
“Wanna try feeding me a bit, sunshine?”
Bucky looked over at Tony’s empty plate.  “Uh-huh - you’re just anglin’ to get more cake, aren’tcha?”  But he focused his attention and maneuvered the fork over in front of Tony, only to smear the frosting on his nose. “Oops! Sorry, sweetheart,” Bucky apologized, but he couldn’t keep a straight face for long as he leaned in to lick the errant icing off
“Fine motor control test complete.”  Bruce commented dryly, as the rest of the table dissolved in laughter.  Tony hadn’t needed to make a birthday wish this year;  he had everything he wanted right here.  
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Text
#FindEmmaSwanAFriend
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Feeling left behind by her more successful, settled friends, Emma Swan moves to Scotland on a whim. Sure, she’s winning at Instagram, but something is still missing from her new life. Fortunately, her friends back home are on it. #FindEmmaSwanAFriend goes viral. Enter Killian Jones, reluctant columnist, who is on the hunt for his newest subject, and may just have found her. CS AU.
also on ff.net
Tagging:  @katie-dub, @wholockgal, @kat2609, @whovianlunatic, @optomisticgirl, @ladyciaramiggles, @the-lady-of-misthaven, @emmaswanchoosesyou, @ilovemesomekillianjones, @cigarettes-and-scotch-whisky, @biancaros3, @ms-babs-gordon, @ab-normality, @andiirivera, @fangirl-till-it-hurts, @onceuponaprincessworld, @chocolatecrackle.
This chapter was a mess for so long, so big thanks to @wholockgal for helping me try to whip her into shape, and @lenfaz for always listening to my writing-related whining.
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Emma
The next person who emails me asking for an extension on an assignment they’ve had ALL SEMESTER to do, I’m straight up murdering. ES
I think that’s what they call premeditation, Swan. KJ
There are 33 emails in my inbox right now asking for last minute extensions. 33! Justifiable homicide. ES
33? You’re quite right. Not a jury in the land would convict you. KJ
… This is the part where you chime in with your own work horror story, so I can see I’m being irrational. ES
Is it? As you wish. I just thought seriously about poisoning our illiterate sub-editor with expired milk I found in the darkest recesses of the break room fridge. All because she used a Daily Mail-worthy pun as a headline for one of my articles. And I might’ve done, if the work experience kid hadn’t just used up the last of it for his Ovaltine. KJ
Oh god. Is he okay? ES
For the moment. Looking a bit green around the gills though. I’ve a bet going with the Pictures Editor he won’t make it til lunchtime. KJ
Okay, so not exactly what I was going for, and yet, I feel strangely less like a monster. You, on the other hand, might want to get that kid to a doctor. And/or book yourself in for a refresher for that workplace sensitivity training seminar. ES
According to Liam, there isn’t an opening for six months. Believe me, he checked. KJ
Of course he did. So... 6 hours til happy hour at the Jingles. You in? ES
Oh? Are you buying? KJ
The first round, sure. But only if you promise me it’ll be an early night. I have 203 final assessments to grade. I DO NOT have time to be hungover. ES
Your proposal is acceptable. KJ
Emma saw the poster on the last official teaching day before Reading Week, tacked to the pinboard outside her office. Poorly formatted, and clearly the work of someone with little to no design ability, it nevertheless managed to stop her in her tracks.
End of Academic Year Staff Party
LASER TAG
School of Classics, Archaeology & History VS School of Social & Political Science
Has it ever rankled to be told we produce “Mickey Mouse” degrees? Have you ever been made to feel that your knowledge of Classic Greek literature was “too highbrow” to be relevant in today’s job market? Ever run afoul of Tracy from Social Anthro in the Library Cafe?
Here’s your chance to get your own back! Sign ups below.
Emma could feel something building in her gut. Something unpleasant and inevitable. Something like picturing herself strapped into a cheap plastic breastplate sometime in the near future.
Killian was going to have a field day.
Or, she thought he might, if she could just dig herself out from under the pile of term papers she needed to grade long enough to set up a meet with him.
It figured that all of the empty space in Emma’s schedule would evaporate just as soon as the weather turned. Living under so many layers for so long, Emma had almost forgotten the sun was supposed to have any real warming ability at all. But suddenly, just as the semester was drawing to a close, it re-appeared with a vengeance, and the city was utterly transformed.
Gone were the puffer jackets and tights, the Gore-Tex and the ugly sweaters Emma had long considered to be the unofficial national uniform. Instead the sidewalks became filled with pasty-limbed people displaying their newly liberated flesh with the kind of exhibitionist zeal Emma hadn’t seen since her first Spring Break trip to Florida.
She nearly tripped over a few as they lay sunning themselves out on the Meadows, oblivious to her sweaty, breathless approach. Not to mention the ten or so pubs she had to avoid on her walk home from work, the pavements outside bursting with mismatched outdoor furniture someone had scrounged up in a hurry. All of them packed with sun-worshippers in the most reptilian tradition, and none of them alone.
Who were these people? Emma wondered. Drinking Magners mid-afternoon and stripped down to the barest essentials, always an audience for their bawdy jokes. Where had they all materialized from? Didn’t they have jobs to go to?
In contrast, Emma’s apartment remained completely ignorant of the change in seasons, still cold as a morgue. Her south-facing windows not only had a great view of the brick wall opposite, but they also brought in precisely zero natural light.
It really was a shitty apartment.
And if she had to spend any more time cooped up in it, alone, wrapped in three sweaters while she read circuitous papers in defence of Andrew Jackson, she was going to go crazy.
She had to get out.
She discovered it by accident, really, one day last November when she’d been caught in a surprise hailstorm, and looking for somewhere warm and dry to scarf down the rest of her Greggs donut. Her office-mate had office hours, and the University library stacks were always too crowded with clueless undergrads or amorous couples looking for privacy.
But the City Library? There were whole floors where the only ones around were harmless old biddies working on their genealogies, and their peripheral vision wasn’t the greatest. It was the perfect place to devour a forbidden pastry, or wait out a hailstorm or two. Or run into the very Englishman you’d been meaning to text back.
Emma liked the Reference Library best. It looked kind the kind of thing a fairy tale Beast might gift to a reluctant new house guest to win her over: floor-to-ceiling shelves lining every wall, supported by cast iron balustrades reachable by spiral staircases, an imposing geometric dome that looked like it came right out of Versailles. For the nerds, original card indicies. And for the displaced American history lecturer: plentiful desk space, wi-fi and always somewhere to charge your phone.
Emma had always considered the place to be kind of her little secret. No matter the time of year or weather, it was never too crowded. But there was no mistaking the leather-clad figure sat alone in the second row, feet up on the desk, nose buried in a thin paperback.
He didn’t register her proximity as Emma made her approach, even as she bent down to get a better look at what had him so engrossed.
‘‘Codes, Ciphers and Secret Writing’?” Emma read aloud, perversely gratified to see him lurch forward in his seat, caught unawares. She clicked her tongue as she took the seat next door. “If you’re considering taking up a career as a spy, you might want to make yourself slightly harder to sneak up on. Just a tip.”
He set the book down on the desk, shooting her a somewhat annoyed glance. “Well this is a turn up for the books. It’s been so long between texts I thought maybe you’d done in one of your students, and were lost to the ravages of the criminal justice system forever.”
Emma made a face.
“No? Well, small mercies I suppose. And fancy seeing you here. I didn’t really pick you for a fan of French Renaissance architecture, Swan. Or was there some other marvel you’d come to admire?” He asked, batting his eyelashes in the kind of over-the-top way that would put a silent film ingénue to shame.
Emma rolled her eyes. “Sorry to deflate that massive ego of yours, but I’m not stalking you. I’m just here for the free wi-fi. How was I supposed to know you’d be here… studying spycraft?”
“So just a happy coincidence then?” He held her gaze for a moment, like he didn’t quite believe her. “Well then, as to the book, believe me, Swan, I have zero aspirations towards the Security Services. Callum, however…”
At that, a young woman a few rows down glanced up from her MacBook to give them the evil eye, and Killian ducked his head, slipping a piece of paper from out between the pages of the book, marked with an indecipherable jumble of numbers written in a childish blue scrawl.
“He’s off penguins for the minute,” he continued, his voice now little more than a hushed whisper. “Now it’s codes. Ciphers. Secret communiqués. Which wouldn’t be so bad, perhaps, if the lad hadn’t refused to communicate in any other way...” He scrubbed a hand over his face, his frustration plain.
By the sound of it, things might have been a little tense at the breakfast table lately.  
Emma whistled through her teeth, though she fought to match his soft tones. “Wow. I think when I was eight years old, all I cared about was ponies.”
He glanced up at her then, the unspoken ‘Is that so?’ making her cheeks color. Even when he said nothing at all, Killian still found ways to make her regret every casual remark, every tiny breadcrumb she unwittingly left behind of the childhood she’d tried so hard to forget.
“Let me see that,” Emma said hotly, snatching the coded message from where it lay before him, leaning forward to examine it.
Then without thinking too much about it, she plucked the red pen from her hair that she’d been using to keep her bun in place, and set about making a series of tiny scribbles.
Killian, his book apparently forgotten, leaned over to study her work. “Know a thing or two about ciphers, do we, lass?”
Emma shrugged. “A bit. It came free with my John Jay obsession. But Callum’s what? Eight, right? So it’s probably not anything too difficult…”
The numbers could mean he was using a book as the key. Each number corresponding to a page and paragraph in the book where the desired word lay. Jay had been a fan of that particular method. He’d favored a dictionary as his key, usually. But the numbers Callum had written…
Emma drew up the matrix, smiling to herself as the childish meaning behind the code slowly became clear. She twisted the paper back in Killian’s direction with a victorious flourish.
“Lachie... is... a…” she translated. “Well, you can see for yourself.”
Killian’s eyes widened looking from the paper, back to Emma, his mouth agape. “You’re bloody brilliant, Swan.”
Emma wasn’t sure she’d ever been told that before. By anyone. Certainly not by someone who’d never been on the receiving end of one of her blow jobs. It was a single stray thought that stuck uncomfortably in her thoughts, and had her barreling on in a hurry to fill the awkward pause.
“It’s a six-sided Polybius square,” Emma explained, keeping her eyes trained to the piece of paper. “I’m pretty sure I read somewhere POWs in Vietnam used a variant of it to communicate between their cells. But Callum’s numbers only go up to 6, so I… what?”
He was staring.
“Nothing,” he said with a cough, though she could see the tips of his ears turning pink.
“You okay?”
He shook his head. “Of course. I was just thinking…”
“Thinking what?” Emma asked warily.
Looking kind of like he’d rather the ground rose up and swallowed him instead, Killian sighed and met Emma’s eye, shooting her a look that was so direct she was tempted to scoot her chair back to give them some space. “I was just thinking that Dr Swan is quite a good look on you.”
Emma opened her mouth, to what? Scoff? Say thank you? Luckily, she never had to find out, the silence punctuated by a series of conspicuous buzzing noises.
Emma heard MacBook Girl’s muttered curse. As if she wasn’t just dicking around on Facebook, like everyone else.
“Forgive me,” Killian murmured, clearing his throat and reaching into his pocket and fishing out the device. Whatever he read on that screen, his face immediately pulled into a tight frown and he rose out of his chair all at once.
“Everything okay?” Emma asked, growing concerned.
“Hmmm.”
It was not the most convincing sound Emma had ever heard.
As if somehow sensing Emma’s frustration, he raised his gaze from the phone to look at her, his expression softening a fraction around the eyes. “Apologies, Swan,” he said with a pained smile. “It appears I’m needed elsewhere.”
He hovered a moment, his weight shifting restlessly from foot to foot. “I need to head back to the office first. Would you like to walk with me? Or is the lure of free wi-fi too good an inducement to pass up?”
Emma glanced down at her watch, which showed the time to be little past noon. She’d been planning on enjoying the silence of solitude of the library a little more. Make a dent in her grading somewhere with decent heating and what passed for natural light.
But given the look on his face right now, and the way he was clenching his jaw, the fact that he’d even asked meant he probably really, really needed the distraction. And Emma might be pretty selfish on her best days, but she wasn’t cruel. And it just so happened, she had a particular distraction in mind.
“Sure,” she said, letting some of her weight fall onto his proffered prosthetic, as she rose from her chair.
“Sure, I’ve got time.”
Yeah, he was a fan of the laser tag idea.
His mood wasn’t buoyant exactly, as they wended their way along Castle Terrace, dodging Chinese tour groups who were arriving by the busload, selfie sticks at the ready. But the idea of Emma making a humiliating spectacle of herself certainly seemed to hold some kind of appeal for him.
He was no longer actively brooding.
“I can just picture it now; Emma Swan: Jungle Warrior.”
Emma snorted. Then she opened her mouth to refute this, and then closed it again, considering her track record.
Killian considered her shrewdly. “Something you’d like to share with the class?”
“I don’t know…I don’t know if you know this about me, but I’m kind of competitive. The last time I did something like this, it got kind of… ugly.”
“Define ugly.”
“We went paintballing for David’s birthday one year and August ended up in the ER with a dislocated knee.”
Killian winced.
“He says he can still feel it when it rains. Of course, he’s a novelist, so he’s kind of known for being needlessly dramatic so...”
Encouraged by the prospect of mayhem, the usual mischievous sparkle was returning to Killian’s eyes. “I think this competitive side is something I’ve got to see for myself.”
“Too bad you’re not invited, then, huh?”
“I could be…?” Oh no. No way. Was he really pulling puppy dog eyes right now?
“No way. Not happening. You can put those eyes away. It’s a work event. The administration are already on my case about this whole thing enough as it is.”
“And if I talk them ‘round?”
“You’re not going to get the administration to change their minds about me with a winsome smile and pretty boy charm.”
“You think I’m pretty?”
Emma just rolled her eyes, and nudged him into the path of an oncoming tour group.
When I got back to the library I realized you left your book, btw. I returned it. Figured you didn’t need it anymore? ES
Indeed I don’t. In cracking his code, I believe you’ve exhausted Callum’s sudden passion for cryptography. At least, for now. Elsa would like to express her eternal gratitude. KJ
Wow. Look at me, extinguishing a young boy’s thirst for learning. Clearly I’ve got this whole teacher thing on lockdown. ES
Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that. I saw him googling nebulas on the iPad earlier. I dare say another obsession is in the offing. One that might drive his mother a little less insane. KJ
Well, that’s something. ES
Okay, so clearly the administration was into winsome smiles and pretty boy charm, because the next thing Emma knew, she was seated on a university-chartered bus headed out into the hinterland, her columnist stretched out of the seat beside her.
Because that was a super normal thing to bring along to a work event.
Emma found it easiest to ignore the curious looks of her bus-mates by picturing how she was going to wipe the floor with each and every one of them when they got to where they were going.
For the most part, the reluctant recruits they’d manage to scrape together from the School of Social & Political Science did not inspire awe. Emma was pretty sure she could take them. Between Tracy from Social Anthro with her scoliosis, and Glen from British Politics with his spare tire, they seemed a pretty ragtag bunch, not suited to roughing it in the great outdoors.
There was only one among them who looked like a contender, the bearded guy in the army surplus jacket dozing at the back of the bus.
His possible narcolepsy aside, he at least seemed to be in decent shape, if the cut of jaw was any indication. As if he could feel her gaze on him, his eyes blinked open, and Emma turned back to Killian, who’d suddenly trailed off mid-sentence.
“And you didn’t hear anything I just said, did you?”
Emma cringed inwardly. “Sorry. I was just sizing up the competition.”
“Oh?” He enquired, his tone lightening. “And how do they measure up, in your estimation?”
Emma shrugged. “I think it’s in the bag. Our combined youth-”
“Your fighting spirit-” Killian interrupted.
“And the fact the history department won against the Divinity School last year...  ,” Emma continued, ignoring him.
“What about Rambo over there?” Killian asked, raising his chin to indicate the same guy Emma had been caught checking out before. “He looks like he might present a challenge.”
“Yeah, well,” Emma said, refusing to follow his gaze. “We’ll see.”
If Emma thought she might be able to somehow avoid this handsome stranger, maybe she should have remembered that she was cursed. Because when they nominated team captains, somehow it was him that Emma found herself facing off against.
The two of them stood awkwardly, forced to wait while some teenaged employee scrounged around in the pockets of his cargo pants for a coin to flip to determine territory.
And he was handsome, there was no getting around it. Nice hair, just on the manageable side of curly. Admittedly impressive biceps peeking out from underneath an ill-fitting plastic breastplate. Not to mention the warm, friendly smile as he held out a hand.
“Best of luck,” he said.
Oh, and an accent. A very nice accent.   
“And to you,” Emma said graciously, accepting the handshake. She might have been naturally competitive, but there was no need to be rude.
“I don’t think I’ve seen you on campus before,” he mentioned casually, even as his hand still clasped over hers. “I’m Graham Humbert, International Relations.”
The way he said it, with his tongue peeking out to wet his lower lip, she wondered if he was flirting with her. She wondered if she wanted him to be.
“Emma Swan,” she replied, letting her hand fall back down to her side, palm tingling. “American History.”
Killian
Killian Jones was no stranger to using his masculine wiles to his advantage. Though he’d been something of an awkward youth, his university years had been their own sort of education, quite aside from his unfinished philosophy degree.
Now, as a mediocre journalist with few moral scruples, he employed charm and flattery as tools of the trade. What better way to put an interview subject at ease? Or finesse that long-guarded secret from someone’s lips?
True, Saorsa was hardly The Guardian. He wasn’t uncovering government corruption at it’s highest levels or netting himself any Pulitzers. Though he did manage to stir up a hornet’s nest in Parliament that one time, after he got a MSP to admit to an extra-marital affair. Necessary to the public interest it was not, but it never did the circulation numbers any harm.
It was these skills he thought might help secure him a spot on the team bus to Lugton Bogs, the aptly named quagmire that was home to Edinburgh’s premier, and only, outdoor laser tag centre. Or at the very least, might improve Emma’s standing with the university after a rocky start.
Killian’s first port of call? The Press and Public Relations department, tucked away in cobbled alley near Sandy Bell’s. And from the rising stink of it, mostly treated as an open latrine by some of the male patrons of said watering hole after one too many libations at the weekend.
The inside was decidedly more pleasant, sheltered from the stench by double glazed windows and a heavy steel door. The office itself was attractive enough, a hive of industry playing to the soundtrack of ringing telephones. He stopped to ask the way to the right office, and was directed up to the first floor, where cubicles gave way to actual offices.
It was a promising start, he thought. That is, until he seated himself in a rather uncomfortable chair outside his target office, and had gotten a good look at the nameplate velcroed to the door.
That Killian’s quarry turned out to be a male was regrettable, and a waste of Killian’s talents.  That Killian’s quarry turned out to be none other than Robert Gold, native Glaswegian and former husband of one Belle French, Killian thought perhaps it wasn’t too late to do the honourable thing and fall on his sword.
He’d never been stupid enough to name Belle directly, but realistically, how many Australian librarians in Edinburgh could there be? And here was the very man Killian had publicly outed just a few short months ago, as a man who’d chosen his pill addiction over his marriage.
This was the man he had sought?
Killian was already halfway to his feet, ready to skive off their meeting with great urgency, when the door opened and out stepped a slight, silver-haired man, leaning heavily on a cane.
Tink hadn’t been lying when she’d said he’d been older.
“Killian Jones, is it?” he asked, looking bored.
Hello, rock. Hello, hard place. Killian’s first temptation was still to flee, but seeing as he was half-standing in plain sight, it seemed that ship had long sailed.
Instead he straightened, and held out a hand, trying to keep his voice quiver-free. “Aye, Killian Jones. I believe you’re the man to see about getting oneself included on an employee outing?”
For all his vices, Robert Gold did have one thing to his credit; he did not seem to be a Saorsa subscriber. Indeed, Killian’s name did not seem to bring about any flash of recognition. Nor, to Killian’s immense relief, a sudden zeal to sue for libel.
Though now Killian knew what to look for, he very much doubted the man would have much legal grounds. From the sweat soaking through his dress shirt, to the sallow complexion, to the pupils round as saucers, there was no way Robert Gold wasn’t in the throes of some chemical cocktail. The single life clearly wasn’t working for him.
He did, however, seem for the moment to be all-business.
“Laser tag?” he enquired.
Not sure if he was asking for an explanation, or merely a confirmation, Killian hesitated. “Something of an annual tradition from what I understand. Pitting department against department, all in the name of friendly competition.”
Gold nodded, absently.
“And this…” He peered down to examine the form in front of him. “... Emma Swan. You’re writing a column about her personal life?”
“It’s more an exploration on the nature of adult friendships. How difficult it is to make meaningful connections when you find yourself separated from your familiar networks. Emma is merely a vehicle I’m using to…” Killian fumbled for a suitable word. “...illustrate the point.”
“Hmmm.”
With any luck, that “Hmmm” meant that Gold found the idea tedious, and never wanted to hear about it again. Still, Killian wondered how long it would take him to convince their IT guy to “accidentally” corrupt the link to February’s column online.
“And you feel it would be helpful to you if you ‘tagged along’ on this outing?”
Truthfully, now he’d gotten Ruby to confirm Emma’s ER story, he mostly just wanted to watch her in action. But something told him Gold wouldn’t be particularly sympathetic to his plight.
“I think it would lend my words a certain credibility, if I was actually present for the events, certainly.”
Gold looked thoughtful, as if he was actually entertaining the idea. Or perhaps he was just meaning to add his next date with his dealer to his personal calendar. At any rate, he didn’t make Killian wait too long.
“There’s a number of forms to fill out,” the Glaswegian declared airily, pulling a stack of papers from a filing cabinet. “And some insurance concerns. I imagine your employer can email through proof of that?”
Could they? Killian certainly hoped so.
“Aye, of course.”
“Of course, we don’t ask for copy approval ahead of time, we’re not totalitarian savages. But you should be aware that we are always looking for ways to promote the university as a diverse, innovative and enjoyable workplace. Sometimes this means entering partnerships with members of the fourth estate, and sometimes that means breaking off such arrangements, if we feel our aims are not in concert. If you understand my meaning?”
Don’t burn any bridges. Duly noted.
At Killian’s nod of acquiescence, Gold clapped his hands together. “Well then, dearie, it looks like we have ourselves a deal. Blue pen, or black?”
And you thought it couldn’t be done. KJ
You didn’t. ES
I did. KJ
Please tell me you’re joking? ES
Alas, the cramp I’m nursing after signing near a dozen documents in triplicate says otherwise. I am UoE approved, and ready to watch Emma Swan go full berserker. KJ
I hate you. ES
I know. KJ
“Players must keep two hands on the phaser at all time to activate it. This is a safety feature which prevents the phaser being held at an arm’s length,” Killian read the tiny warning sticker on the side of his gun aloud.
Well, wasn’t that just fantastic.
Killian looked around for some teenaged, zero-hour contract flunky he could flag down, but after the initial hubbub of the coin toss, they’d all but vanished. The stand of trees stood all but empty now, except for the handful of middle-aged academics in green vests, wheezing as they made their way over the rise.
Sod it.
His gun might be fucking useless, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t do what he came here to do: Watch Emma Swan kick arse and take names.
She really was in fine form. She might have been surprised by her appointment to team captain, but Killian wasn’t. She was the only one among them who actually looked like they knew what they were doing, and objectively speaking, she looked good doing it.
And as the reluctantly appointed leader, she was the one leading the charge to the enemy compound, organising her little band using military tactics she’d probably lifted straight from Che Guevara. This was exactly why people shouldn’t cross history professors.
Expending the last of his lung capacity, Killian caught up with Emma’s splinter group, just in time to hear the electronic sound effect that signalled a direct hit to the man to his left.
“Six o’ clock,” Killian bellowed, diving for the cover of the nearest tree stump. Emma was already there, pinned down by two more red-vests advancing from the other side.
“Alright, Swan?” he asked, wiping at his forehead with the sleeve of his useless arm.
To his delight, she actually seemed to be enjoying this, her face aflush with activity, her grin wide. She turned his way, tucking a stray tuft of hair behind her ear. “Give us the the tools, and we will finish the job.”
Churchill. She was quoting fucking Churchill.
But as she heard her compatriots fall to enemy fire, he could see the enthusiasm in her eyes visibly dim with each electronic squeal. If they stayed here too long, Rambo and the lasses from Gender Studies were going to pick them off, one by one.
Someone had to do something, and quickly.
And that someone might as well be the eejit with the gun that didn’t bloody work.
Nudging Emma’s shoulder, he pointed to a pile of boulders a little way off. “You make for those, and I’ll cover you.”
Emma looked from the pile, back to Killian. “Are you crazy? That’s like twenty yards. There’s no way we’ll both make it.”
“Only one way to know for sure,” Killian said, rising from his hiding place, and giving her no choice but to follow his lead.
“Aargh,” she cried, scrambling to her feet, rifle at the ready. “You know I hate you, right?”
“Aye, Swan,” he said, swinging to face his aggressors head-on. “I know.”
It wasn’t a drawn-out death.
To Killian’s satisfaction, a few of them had turned and fled when they saw him stand up. But Rambo, the bearded leader of the opposition seemed clue-ier than his friends. He saw the diversion for what it was. And as Emma darted out from behind the stump, he set his sights accordingly. Might have gotten her too, if Killian hadn’t stepped into the line of fire.
“You do know the purpose of the game is not to get hit, right?” Rambo called after him.
But instead of replying, Killian merely slung his rifle up onto his shoulder and headed back to the holding area, humming a song under his breath.
In the end, Emma decimated them, as he knew she would. All but Rambo, that cocksure son of a bitch. He had military training, of that Killian was certain. Or at least a stint in the cadets. He was a little too at ease, in Killian’s view.
Still, Emma managed to hold her own, waiting the bastard out until the clock ran down.
A draw.
He thought he might shout Emma a drink for this. Something tall and refreshing. But as she emerged from the stand of trees, still aglow with near-victory, he saw she wasn’t alone. Rambo strode along beside her, the two of them getting on suspiciously well for people who’d just been trying to “kill” one another.
Killian shrank back, letting himself fall back into a crowd of archaeology professors, comparing aches and pains. They certainly weren’t of the Indiana Jones mould.
He wouldn’t say he watched them. He merely observed them, like any other dispassionate member of the fourth estate. And how could he not notice his subject’s pleasure at this man’s company? The way her gaze dropped downward as they shook hands, a rare show of shyness.
Emma liked him. Rambo. Whatever his name was. Even a blind man could see it.
As far as the project was concerned, this was good news. Emma Swan, single and ready to mingle? Hell, it was a boon. Not to say one’s social life never suffered from embarking on a new relationship, but it was a damned sight better than Emma staying home every night with her marking and her Netflix.
So why did the sight of Emma typing her number into the man’s phone suddenly make Killian feel queasy? This was a good thing.
He should be happy for her.
Getting home took a little longer than anticipated. Not least because he stopped by the Jingles on the way and emptied out their stores of Captain Morgan.
“Maybe you should call it a night, eh?” the bar man suggested, just around the time Killian’s vision started going blurry.
Recalling Liam’s last lecture about “unnecessary expenses” he walked the rest of the way home, taking a somewhat circuitous route through a few back gardens.
He struggled with the lock, frustrated to find his keys kept slipping from his hand. He almost had it when the door suddenly fell in, and Killian with it.
“What the-”
Who else but Liam stood over him, arms crossed in that same look of quiet disappointment he’d been wearing for years.
“Good night was it?” his brother asked coolly, reaching forward to help him up.
“Geroff me, you judgy git,” Killian scowled, rising to his feet perfectly well on his own, with nary a wobble. “Would ‘ave been fine, you hadn’t opened the door like that.”
Liam stepped away, hands held up in surrender. “If you insist.” And then after a moment, “Why do you look like you’ve been at the Somme?”  
Killian looked down at himself, to the best approximation of combat clothes his wardrobe had to offer, now caked in mud to the knee, and streaked with dirt elsewhere.
“Laser tag,” Killian replied. “S’for work.”
“Hmm,” Liam hummed. “Let me guess, you weren’t on the winning side?”
If you wanted to get technical about it, it had been a draw. But deep down, Killian couldn’t kid himself on that front. 
Whichever side he’d been on had definitely been the losing one.
And how were drinks with Rambo? KJ
Graham. His name is Graham. ES
So it is. Does that sharp rebuke mean that in addition to guerrilla warfare, the man also excels at scintillating conversation over cocktails? KJ
Has anyone ever told you you’re a shameless gossip? ES
Once or twice. Though I much prefer the term “indomitable busybody.” That’s my favourite. KJ
Gee, I wonder why. And for your information, it wasn’t terrible. ES
Coming from you, Swan, that’s almost a ringing endorsement. KJ
23  25-32-33-45  51-33-43  42-33-33-25    42-22-11-42  12-26-11-41-42   16-33-36  31-15. ES
23’31  41-43-36-15  23 22-11-44-15  32-33  23-14-15-11  45-22-11-42  5-33-43  31-15-11-32. KJ
Whatever you say, buddy. Good night, Killian. ES
Good night, Emma. KJ
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the-master-cylinder · 4 years
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SUMMARY Dr. Jane Tiptree has withdrawn from public life to conduct sequestered research for the Eunice Corporation. The DARPA is wary of her work with genetically modified chickens but cannot legally interfere in her research. While in transport, one of Tiptree’s chickens hatches a reptilian creature which kills the driver and escapes. Meanwhile, near her laboratory in the small town of Climax, Nevada, the populace begin suffering from a mysterious illness with flu-like symptoms.
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At a neighboring Eunice-owned quarry, watchman Doc Smith protects excavation equipment from environmentalists. He reports a trespasser, Ann Thrush, but Sheriff Fowler is investigating a series of gruesome killings, perpetrated by Tiptree’s missing creature, a Deinonychus. Among the victims is the daughter of Eunice employee Jesse Paloma, but before he raises any suspicion to her research, Tiptree lures him into a laser-protected dinosaur pen where a fully grown Tyrannosaurus rex devours him.
Despite the deaths, Thrush and a group of activists handcuff themselves to excavation equipment in a form of protest. They are encountered by the Deinonychus and everyone except Thrush is slaughtered. Still in shock, Thrush is brought back by Doc to his trailer, where she survives another attack by the creature. Doc discovers a truck with two corpses belonging to Eunice and contacts Tiptree on the vehicle’s radio, deducing the creature originated from her facility. As he approaches the lab, Fowler discovers a dinosaur embryo in a carton of eggs and takes it for investigation.
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Doc infiltrates Tiptree’s laboratory and, at gunpoint, she reveals her experiment subjects to him. The town’s mysterious illness is caused by infected chicken eggs, which contain a lethal airborne virus and impregnate women with dinosaur embryos. Her objective is to exterminate the human race, which Tiptree faults as disastrous, and enable dinosaurs to repopulate the Earth. News of the town’s deaths reach Eunice sponsors who trace it to Tiptree. In response, the government places the community under quarantine and resolves to kill civilians — infected or not — on sight.
With the illness rapidly spreading, Fowler responds to a disturbance at a kennel. He confronts the Deinonychus, but both he and the creature suffer fatal wounds in the exchange. Top governmental officials, in a secure underground bunker, also begin plotting the repopulation of the human race in response to the virus; they envision a new social order prograted by strict fertilization policies and artificial wombs. At the laboratory, Doc attempts to escape with a cure to the illness and mistakenly enters the dinosaur pen. Tiptree releases the T. rex which pursues Doc out of the facility. Infected herself, Tiptree births a dinosaur and succumbs to the illness.
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Doc returns to Thrush, who has been exposed to the illness. The T. rex enters the quarry where Doc battles the creature using a Backhoe loader, impaling and killing the creature with Thrush’s assistance. After injecting her with the serum, Doc is killed by government soldiers alerted to his presence, and both his and Thrush’s bodies are burned.
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DEVELOPMENT/PRODUCTION When Roger Corman offered the job of writing and directing the dinosaurs vs. mankind epic Carnosaur to Adam Simon, the filmmaker leapt at the chance for a number of reasons. Not the least of these was the opportunity to avoid what he sees as a curse.
“The curse of any young filmmaker is that if they turn anything down, they are doomed to direct its sequel,” laughs Simon. “Right after I did Brain Dead, I was offered the original Body Chemistry and turned it down. Guess what I ended up directing? Body Chemistry 2. That’s why I jumped at Carnosaur, because if I didn’t, I knew I’d end up directing Carnosaur 2.”
Having survived the arduous schedule that typifies a Concorde production (“18 days, 18 hours a day”), Simon is in the editing phase of Carnosaur, Corman’s low-budget (rumored to cost under $1 million) answer to the megabuck contender Jurassic Park. The director’s immediate future entails a week of minor reshoots and miniature work and four weeks of editing en route to a scheduled theatrical release in June. But the good-natured Simon feels his experience on the aforementioned Corman films will help him handle the crunch.
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“The biggest danger I face at this point is working so many long days and so many long hours that, all of a sudden, I’ll lose perspective. That’s the stage I’m in right now. But the big difference is that I’m going through this with Roger for the third time, so I’m able to relax and just trust in the process.”
The writer/director is philosophical about the fact that he “essentially had one foot out of Concorde and had started some outside writing projects” when Corman called with the Carnosaur assignment. The producer had originally purchased the rights to the novel, a tongue-in-cheek tale of dinosaurs brought to life in the present day written by British author Harry Adam Knight (a pseudonym for John Brosnan), in 1990. When the Spielberg-driven Jurassic Park loomed on the horizon, Corman gave Carnosaur a go in 1992. But after three drafts of the script (including one written by Knight himself) failed to set Corman’s flesh crawling, he called upon Simon, who was more than ready to accept.
One might speculate that Ladd’s involvement with Carnosaur is somehow connected to the fact that her daughter, Laura Dern, stars in the competing Jurassic Park. But Simon reports that the actress, who worked a total of five days on the film, agreed to appear for other reasons. “She did it partly as a hoot, and partly because she had an unwritten agreement with Roger,” he says. “Because he had given her and former husband Bruce Dern breaks early in their careers, she agreed to come back and do another film for him if the project and the situation seemed right.
“I had basically reached a point where I had been spending a lot of time knocking on major studio doors and having nothing come out of it,” confesses Simon, who cameoed, using his real name as a struggling screenwriter in last year’s acclaimed The Player. “I felt like I was too young to be sitting on my ass and not doing anything. So I decided to stop worrying about when the big studios were going to notice me and just do my own thing. And that’s about the time Roger called with Carnosaur.
“I loved the idea of doing a classic dinosaur movie, and I had never really worked with effects and creatures before,” he continues. “It also didn’t hurt that Roger was giving me a lot of time and freedom to write the script.”
But in exchange for those luxuries, Simon relates that he had to make what he calls “a Faustian bargain” with the producer. Although Corman required that only the title be retained from the novel, he insisted that the film feature genetically engineered dinosaurs, one of which had to be a Tyrannosaurus rex. Simon agreed and, in preparation for the task, read Knight’s book.
“I loved the tongue-in-cheek nature of the novel,” he admits. “The problem was that it was very campy, and while I didn’t mind this kind of film being funny, I definitely didn’t think the movie should be camp. I wanted humor, but not a parody.”
“It’s a very similar premise,” noted CARNOSAUR producer Roger Corman of the competition, JURASSIC PARK. CARNOSAUR is also about genetically engineered dinosaurs, but the veteran producer, with a completely straight face, brushed aside any charge of plagiarism against JURASSIC PARK. “Our film is from a novel written eight or nine years ago by Harry Adam Knight. I don’t know whether Michael Crichton or Steven Spielberg ever read Carnosaur. I don’t think he took the idea from Carnosaur. It was probably an original idea with him and he didn’t even know that Harry Adam Knight had written a similar story.”
Knight is actually the pseudonym of English film journalist John Brosnan who authored or co-authored a series of novels “which are pretty funny,” according to Adam Simon, who wrote and directed CARNOSAUR for Corman. “I first encountered them at Dark Carnival, a great bookstore in Berkeley. Apparently, not long after that, Roger was there for a book signing, and they stuck Carnosaur in his hands. He read it, liked it and put it aside. When he heard about JURASSIC PARK, I can just picture him at his desk with this enormous light bulb going off over his head-because the beauty of Brosnan’s novel is that it did conceive of that idea a good six years before JURASSIC PARK.”
In any case, little of Brosnan’s work survived the adaptation to the screen. Noted Simon, “Roger told me, ‘I don’t care whether you read the novel or not; all I care about is that it has genetically engineered dinosaurs, that it’s called CARNOSAUR and that at some point a Tyrannosaurus
“We ended up with a very good script that managed to attract talent of a high order,” he says. “Everybody was surprised by it. This script may have seemed like one thing at first, but once people like Diane and Clint picked it up and read it, they found it was something quite different. And they liked what it was.
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“This film has a ’90s attitude, rather than one from the ’50s,” he continues. “In a nutshell, it’s the Army vs. the dinosaurs, but you’re going to see the Army in a totally unexpected role. Ultimately, what it comes down to is that there are more things to be afraid of than the dinosaurs.”
However, Simon notes that the prehistoric monsters definitely make their presence felt in a bloody manner. The movie’s explicit dinosaur dining scenes will ultimately result in a hard R theatrical rating and, more than likely, an unrated video version “These dinosaurs aren’t going to be the kind we see in kids’ movies,” the director warns. “They’re hungry, and there’s going to be a lot of blood, guts and gore.”
He goes on to cite some examples, including a scene in which Fryer’s head is ripped off from above, and another where a whole group of people are stripped to the bloody bone in a quarry. “This is rough stuff; we didn’t pull any punches. These are dinosaurs, and this is what dinosaurs do.”
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SPECIAL EFFECTS Creating the onscreen interaction between man and beast involved the blending of live actors and various-sized models. “We used a lot of forced perspective, which is not really a new trick but has worked quite effectively on this film,” Simon explains. “There are also some mechanicals and puppets and a whole lot of quick cuts. I’ve got to hand it to the actors; a big part of selling the effects fell on their shoulders. If they didn’t make it all believable, none of it would have worked. But they did a hell of a job. There are some truly horrifying things in our film that would be disturbing to little kids and perhaps to adults, too.”
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According to John Carl Buechler, who provided the film’s creatures and carnage, “Roger stressed that he wanted to go for an NC-17, at least for one version of the film, so there is no sparing the amount of viscera we were asked to provide.”
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“This ain’t like a Harryhausen movie, I loved them, but they were family-oriented,” said Buechler. “The approach here is more like ALIENS. How many seconds do you see the Queen Alien on screen for any specific cut? This movie is structured like a dark horror film; consequently, when we designed the creatures, our approach was to make them look great for a few seconds, as opposed to mediocre for a long, boring shot.’
youtube
CAST/CREW Directed Adam Simon
Produced Roger Corman Mike Elliott
Screenplay Adam Simon
Story John Brosnan
Based on Carnosaur by John Brosnan
Diane Ladd as Dr. Jane Tiptree Raphael Sbarge as Doc Smith Jennifer Runyon as Ann Thrush Harrison Page as Sheriff Fowler Ned Bellamy as Fallon Clint Howard as Friar Frank Novak as Jesse Paloma Ed Williams as Dr. Raven Brent Hinkley as Peregrine
Special Effects by David Barrett    … fabrication crew: Magical Media Industries Inc. John Carl Buechler   … designer/supervisor: Magical Media Industries Inc. / special makeup and creature effects Lynn Buechler    … controller: Magical Media Industries Inc. Joe Colwell  … fabrication crew: Magical Media Industries Inc. James Conrad … fabrication crew: Magical Media Industries Inc. John Crawford    … fabrication crew: Magical Media Industries Inc. / mechanics: Magical Media Industries Inc. Trevor Cripps    … special effects Tom Dicken   … fabrication crew: Magical Media Industries Inc. Thomas R. Dickens … special effects Anthony Doublin  … location effects supervisor: Magical Media Industries Inc. Jeffrey S. Farley … sculptor: Magical Media Industries Inc. John Foster  … fabrication crew: Magical Media Industries Inc. / production manager: Magical Media Industries Inc. John Gillan  … fabrication crew: Magical Media Industries Inc. Ted Haines   … fabrication crew: Magical Media Industries Inc. Kenneth J. Hall  … fabrication crew: Magical Media Industries Inc. / foam sculptor: Magical Media Industries Inc. Jeff Henderson   … fabrication crew: Magical Media Industries Inc. Mike Jones   … fabrication crew: Magical Media Industries Inc. / sculptor: Magical Media Industries Inc. Andrea London    … fabrication crew: Magical Media Industries Inc. Rod Matsui   … fabrication crew: Magical Media Industries Inc. Charles Myrick   … fabrication crew: Magical Media Industries Inc. Tuck John Porter … special effects shop fabricator James Rohland    … fabrication crew: Magical Media Industries Inc. Paul Salamoff    … fabrication crew: Magical Media Industries Inc. / key location liaison: Magical Media Industries Inc. Mark Weatherbe   … fabrication crew: Magical Media Industries Inc. Bill Zahn    … fabrication crew: Magical Media Industries Inc. / key makeup effects: Magical Media Industries Inc.
CREDITS/REFERENCES/SOURCES/BIBLIOGRAPHY Cinefantastique v24n02 Fangoria#124
Carnosaur (1993) Retrospective SUMMARY Dr. Jane Tiptree has withdrawn from public life to conduct sequestered research for the Eunice Corporation.
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missmeikakuna · 5 years
Text
Chad and the Incel Chapter 3
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Rated: M
Fandom: Original Fiction (but inspired by the Virgin vs Chad meme)
Relationship type: Male/Male with a bit of Female/Female (the lesbians are adorable, btw) and unrequited Male/Female (in other words, the guys are bisexual).
Description: Chad is, well, a Chad, or at least he looks like one. He’s got his sights set on the cool nerd Becky and enlists the help of her shy incel ex-friend Noah, offering to help him get the gorgeous girl (Stacy) he desperately wants. Noah is reluctant to help, believing that he will be stuck in inceldom forever, but Chad’s interest in his life gives him hope. When their plans go awry, they start turning their romantic attention towards each other.
Content Warning: Given the subject matter, you can guess that this story has dark themes in it, such as suicide and self-harm (plus the mental health issues that often cause them), sexism, slut-shaming homophobia, biphobia and transphobia. There is also swearing and some mentions of sex but nothing too explicit (hence the M rating as opposed to an Explicit rating).
3rd Post: [Experiment] (POLL) Who is the enemy?
Tyrone was at it again. He was going on and on about the other team in their upcoming game being a bunch of pussies, despite knowing that most of the other team’s members were twice his size.
Chad ignored him, preferring to smile at Noah, who ignored him. The squeak of sneakers against the unpolished wooden floor filled the sweaty room. 
‘What’s the point of bragging when they’re not even here?’ Chad finally asked Tyrone while picking up a dodgeball. He frowned when he saw Noah just standing there but gave him a thumbs up when he instinctively caught a ball. Noah glared at him before pushing his fringe over his eyes and hiding behind it.
Tyrone’s glare was even more vicious. ‘What, you scared? Think the other team can hear us all the way from their shitstain of a school?’ He hurled a ball at Becky, who fumbled but ended up catching the ball. She smirked at him before frowning as if she’s made a huge mistake.
She was right, in a way. ‘You said dodgeball was the moron’s sport!’ Tyrone yelled. ‘You a hypocrite or something?’
Becky looked at the ground. ‘Middle school doesn’t count,’ she murmured. She then raised her voice. ‘We all said stupid things then. You once bragged about sleeping with a teacher and there was a needless investigation all because of you.’ 
The teacher blew her whistle. ‘Tyrone, go to the side of the court. Becky, focus on the game.’
Instead of following orders, Tyrone stormed up to Becky. Chad’s blood became magma just waiting for him to erupt. 
‘So now you‘re talking again? Decided not to be a frigid bitch? It’s been a while.  Were you afraid that if you talked in homeroom that Shakespeare’s jizz’ll come out of your mouth?’
Before the teacher could chastise him for using foul language, Chad shoved him to the ground. He leaned down and grabbed him by the collar. Tyrone flailed his arms about in the hopes of landing a punch but each punch had the strength of a baby mouse-deer. Chad’s punches, on the other hand, carried the strength of an African elephant whose family was poached. Soon Tyrone’s face was covered with blood. Chad gave him one last shove into the ground before standing up and looking at Becky with a hopeful smile. Becky scrunched her nose at him before crossing her arms and looking away. 
Noah, on the other hand, stared at him with wide eyes and a mouth that constantly shifted from a grin to a frown and vice-versa.
Chad was sent to the Principal’s office where he was given three weeks in detention rather than a suspension or expulsion like one would expect.
‘I know how you boys are,’ the Principal said. ‘Just don’t do it again.’
Chad returned to class just as the bell for lunchtime buzzed around the gym. He waved at Becky as she brushed past him, refusing to look at him.
He grabbed her arm but Becky tore her arm away from him.
‘What do you want?’
Chad smiled at her. ‘So, uh, what did you think?’
Becky closed her eyes and sighed. ‘I have no interest in your penis-measuring contest with Tyrone. And besides, you know he’s a lot weaker than you. You may as well have beaten up a baby. Not exactly impressive.’
Chad’s blood went from magma to ice, rendering the act of movement intensely difficult. All he could do was shiver as Becky continued to glare at him.
‘Are we done here?’ Becky asked. Chad paused before nodding. 
Noah left the gym last, waiting for everyone else to go before him. When he saw Chad he did the same smile-frown-smile thing he was doing before.
‘You okay?’ Chad asked him.
Noah, caught off guard, stepped back into the doorway. ‘Uh, yeah. I’ve never seen a real white knight before.’
Chad flexed his arm. ‘Finally someone appreciates what I did.’
Noah looked down at different spots on the ground, not focusing on a single spot for very long.
‘I don’t know if I appreciate it, per se,’ he whispered. 
He didn’t talk to Chad for the remainder of the day.
At home he decided to make two posts to Incels.me, one a blog post about the day.
Anicel1919- [Soy] A Chad resorts to being a White Knight
You’d think a Chad wouldn’t need to do this since he can get any femoid he wants, but I guess we live in a weird sexual economy where even a Chad has to prove himself to a femoid to get her approval. I swear to God, feminists ruin everything.
So there’s this Tyrone (or at least, he’s named Tyrone. Doesn’t look like one.) who’s picking on this Becky that Chad likes, so he beats him up. 
I’m honestly kind of conflicted. It was kind of nice to see him be all brave but at the same time I remember I used to be a white knight until I learned it was pointless for me. Femoids only care about chivalry when someone who isn’t a sub-8 is doing it. 
Or at least that’s what I thought. I overheard Chad talking to the girl afterwards and she wasn’t impressed. What an ungrateful bitch! I bet she thinks she has to play hard to get or some bullshit like that.
He then posted a poll.
Anicel1919- [Experiment] (POLL) Who is the enemy?
Femoids
Feminists
Parents
Bullies
r/inceltears (more like Cucktears, am I right?)
Chads
A few days later, there were fairly even splits between each answer, though, to Noah’s surprise, the Chads option was a little smaller in popularity.
‘Huh…’ he whispered while tapping his fingers against the desk in his room.
At school, Noah stood next to Stacy’s locker. He reminded himself of when Chad took the initiative to defend Becky and that, while it didn’t work on someone like Becky, it could work on Stacy. 
His heart stopped for a moment and then quickly went into overdrive when he saw Stacy saunter towards her locker. His smile faltered when he realised that she was going past her locker.
He followed her, making sure he was a few steps behind so as not to look suspicious. 
She strutted to the library, which Becky was just then entering. Noah hid behind a corner just outside the library.
‘Um, uh, can I… talk to you?’ Stacy asked, her confident walk collapsing into a pigeon-toed, slightly bent-over stand.
Becky walked backwards out of the library and smiled softly. ‘Sure.’ Stacy stood there in silence, fidgeting with the hem of her short sundress. ‘Sure,’ Becky repeated a little louder, sending a shock through Stacy’s spine.
‘Oh, yeah. So, um, You’re really… prart… uh, I meant to say pretty but then I ended up trying to say smart and they just kind of… mushed together.’ Becky frowned and raised an eyebrow. ‘I’m sorry! So, this is going to sound really weird and I get it if you end up being grossed out by me, but… I kind of… like you.’
By this point Stacy was covering her face. Becky moved her eyes from side to side.
‘Oh. I… I find you to be pretty as well. Maybe not ‘smart’ since I don’t know your grades, but you also seem kind enough. I should probably focus on my studies, though. I’m not grossed out by you. I like you too, in fact.’
Stacy nodded, her lips contorted into a smile that didn’t belong. ‘That’s fair. Um, if end up being less busy for whatever reason, let me know.’
With a nod of her own, Becky went back into the library. Noah’s nails tried to dig into the wall by the corner but this only hurt him. His mouth was wide open and so were his eyes.
He took out his phone and messaged Chad.
The school library’s kind of shit, so let’s go to this library near my place today. We should look for books about seduction.
Chad agreed and headed there after detention was over. This particular library, a wide one-story building that stood in front of a lake, made him forget to breathe for a moment. Everything, from the floor to the desks to the bookcases, was covered with spray paint, the vagueness of each tag implying that this was an intentional decision on the part of the library owners. Chad was careful with his steps until he realised that the broken mirror shards on the floor were stuck to it and wouldn’t hurt him. The lights flickered but were still bright enough to read a book under. The bookshelves themselves were shaped like high school lockers with each ‘locker’ opened. The library smelled of paint and old paper.
Noah snickered at Chad’s dropped jaw. ‘Cool, huh? The selection’s even cooler. I’d spend the rest of my life here if I could.’
Much to Chad’s surprise, Noah practically skipped to the dated computer in the corner of the room. To even more of Chad’s surprise, the computer worked like new and had modern features despite looking like it belonged in the early 90s. Noah typed the words ‘seduce women’ into the library search engine, causing Chad to wince and look from side to side. He relaxed his shoulders when he saw that the coast was clear.
Noah headed to one of the bookshelves and searched for the book. He then headed to another section and pulled out what looked like an anime, but as a book. Chad held back laughter when he saw the title of this book-anime. ‘Is it Wrong to Seduce Girls During the Zombie Apocalypse?’
‘Is that an anime?’ Chad couldn’t help but ask as they sat at two oak desks that the library owners had pushed next to each other.
Noah scrunched his nose up for a second but let it go and smiled when he noticed the twinkle of genuine curiosity in Chad’s eyes.
‘It’s a manga, actually. Like anime, but in comic book form.’ Chad nodded in understanding. ‘You can learn a lot about Japanese culture from reading these. I also have a feeling if I try a bunch of stuff from these, one of the techniques is bound to work.’
‘Is... that how it works?’ Chad asked as nicely as he could.
Noah glared at him. ‘Shut up.’ He abruptly opened the manga and pushed the other book towards Chad. ‘Get a Date in Five Easy Steps,’ it read. Chad held up the book and marveled at how thick it was.
Instead of reading the book, he stared at Noah, who was flipping through pages as fast as a competitive speed reader. His thick eyebrows went all the way down to his eyes and his lips went red from him biting them.
‘So, uh, what made you decide to come here?’ Chad asked him, looking away and trying to play off the ever so slight speed increase in his heartbeat as nothing.
Noah slammed the manga shut, his tears welling up. ‘Well, I… I saw Stacy… I saw her… I saw her…’
‘Are you about to-’
‘No I’m not! You think I’m a faggot or something like that?’ Chad felt tempted to look left to right again as an old memory threatened to punch its way back into his consciousness. ‘Anyway, Stacy… confessed to Becky.’
‘Wait, what? So Stacy’s a…’
‘I guess so. Well, unless she gets asked out by some Chad, I’m guessing.’ Noah lowered his voice to a spat out whisper. ‘Fucking femoids.’
‘Fem-what?’
‘Femoids. You know, women. They don’t even deserve that name. They’re all sluts. If you want to be shorter, you can call them foids.’
‘Is this to do with that black… pell thing?’
‘Blackpilled. Yeah. I’m an incel.’ Noah groaned at Chad’s question marked face. ‘Involuntary celibate. I don’t want to be celibate, but I can’t help it when no woman even talks to me.’
‘Have you tried talking to them?’
‘Don’t give me that shit. You know if I tried that a girl would just call me ugly or creepy and run away screaming. I’d rather not end up in a jail cell for a crime I didn’t commit.’
‘So why are we here?’
Noah was silent for a moment. ‘Well, to be honest, you managed to fool me for a second.’ He stood up, put the books away and headed out of the library. Chad chased after him. 
‘We can still hang out, right?’
‘Why would someone like you want to be friends with someone like me?’
Chad shrugged. ‘I guess you’re kind of interesting. I want to ask you more questions about this blackpill thing.’
Noah paused, then nodded with a frown. ‘I’ll… see you at school, then.’ He turned around and waved goodbye with his back to Chad. He then put his headphones on and slowly inhaled and exhaled.
At the school library, Becky kept reading the same sentence multiple times as Stacy’s words resonated in her mind. She eventually realised that she was playing with her ponytail and gave up on reading the textbook.
‘Shit,’ she whispered.
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shes-an-oddbird · 7 years
Text
Memories They Hold
Its been too long but I've done it, I haven't written anything since the season ended and I missed my FitzSimmons dearly. Thanks to the Friday Prompts I managed to get something out. So here it is in response to the prompt: Comfort for the engineering vs biochem challenge. Enjoy!
Summary: Before fleeing the base at the end of season four, the team gather some of their belongings. Jemma wants to pack as many of her and Fitz's keepsakes that she can reasonably manage but Fitz is hesitant to hang on to anything that brings back happy memories.
She can feel the exhaustion in the room, see it on all of their faces, but in that moment, she felt hopeful and aside from brief glimpses it’s the first time she has since discovering it wasn’t Fitz standing next to her in the lab but an LMD instead. Fitz, the real Fitz, is looking her in the eye and while she can see all the trauma and the pain, she can also see where Daisy’s speech has reached him and she’s so thankful that it has she can’t even think of an adequate expression of her gratitude.
So caught up in the moment, Jemma nearly misses it when Coulson starts speaking again.
“They’ll be here soon, might want to gather a few things, we probably won’t be coming back here.”
Jemma finally pulled her eyes away from Fitz to look around what used to be their lounge. Under the ruble, it was hard to see the room in which so many important memories had taken place. Her feet started to work on their own, leading her out into the hall and towards the bunks slowing as they passed the shattered windows of the lab.
She didn’t know which upset her more, seeing her lab, her second home, in shambles or it having to be used as a refuge for those who needed protection as it had been used in the framework.
A gentle hand touched her back and she turned to see May next to her. “I know you want to say goodbye but we don’t have much time.” She nodded and picked up her pace.
The others had gotten a good ways ahead of her and had already disappeared from the hallway into their rooms except for Fitz who stood outside their shared bunk. Tears started to well up her eyes. It might as well have been yesterday that they had to negotiate their way into shared living space. Just yesterday they shared a kiss on the floor.
“I don’t think its locked.” She stated.
Fitz’s eyes darted to hers and Jemma knew then that he couldn’t be left alone for long without back sliding. As she approached to open the door he averted his eyes back to the floor and backed away leaving a large gap of space between them. For a moment she wasn’t sure he would follow her in.
The room was a mess, structurally sound given the distance from the blast but covered in dust and debris from shockwave.
Their wonderful little room had faired quite well and encouraged her to take on an optimistic tone. “It could have been much worse I think, though it looks like Bridget didn’t survive the fall.” She said, inspecting the fallen device. “We wouldn’t be able to take it anyways unfortunately.” She looked back over her shoulder at him. He’d inched into the doorway and didn’t appear to care in the slightest about the television laying on the ground.
“Why don’t I pack us some clothes and you can gather some of our other things.” The suggestion deliberately referred to them together. A subtle way of telling him she wanted to stick together. She waited for him to nod in confirmation before grabbing both their go bags from the closet and determining what clothes would be needed.
Five minutes later when she had transferred their necessities over to the bags she returned to Fitz’s side. He had taken a seat at their desk with two boxes, one nearly full and the other with barely enough items to cover the bottom. Surprisingly it’s her box that’s on the verge of spilling over.
“Fitz you’ve hardly packed anything.” When she reaches past him to tip the box towards her for a better look he shoves the desk chair back, once more creating distance between them.
“I didn’t know what to pack.” He answered quietly.
“You’ve done a good job with mine I think.” Her favorite books, a notepad she jotted down ideas in, the jewelry box her grandmother had given to her; inside was the necklace he’d given her for their six-month anniversary, though he may not have known that. “What about our pictures?” She grabbed the selfie’s off the back of the desk and placed them gently in the box. “And you’ve got that sketch book in your night stand, the one you draw out ideas in, wouldn’t want to leave that behind.”
In his night stand she also finds the pictures of him and his mom, a gadget whose use she couldn’t determine, a few odds and ends and a post card from the hotel gift shop in Bucharest. She closes the top drawer and bends down to open the next one when suddenly Fitz is in front of her.
“Jemma stop, please just stop, I didn’t pack these things because-be-because I don’t-d-don’t-really need them.”
She instinctively holds the precious items to her chest.
“Why Fitz? You packed all the things so important to me.” She notices his eyes are fixed on that lower drawer and knows there’s something in there that he doesn’t want to see or doesn’t want her to see.
“It’s all just going to be taken away anyways.”
“Technically if it’s in our possession when we’re arrested they’ll have to give it back to us eventually, as long as it’s not evidence or dangerous, I doubt they’ll want to keep any of our things, bottle caps from our first beers we were legally allow to drink here in the states, baby photos, a copy of Popular Science what would they do with all that?”
“I just don’t want to bring any of it Jemma, I don’t deserve to have those memories anymore, they’re-they’re not.”
“They’re happy.” Jemma finishes. Fitz traces the grain of the wood in the night stand with his finger. “Fine.” Jemma took the items clutched in her hands and carried them over to the desk. She placed the items in the half empty box and looked around for other things to add.
“I don’t want them.” Fitz insisted. He tried to sound firm but it came out shaky still.
She spotted the poster from Fitz’s old room on the wall and quickly pulled it down. “I heard, I’m packing them for me.” She said, inspecting the back of the frame. It wouldn’t fit in the box as is, she’d just have to take the poster. “You haven’t got a screw driver in here have you.”
“Why would you pack them for you?” Fitz asked confused by her response.
“Of course you have,” she said with a smile and a shake of her head, that had been a silly question. She pulled open the top drawer of the desk and sure enough the bright green handle of a flat head screwdriver popped right out at her. He always overfilled his designated drawers.
She pried off the back, removed the poster and rolled it neatly into a tube.
“JEMMA!”
“WHAT!” She tossed down the screw driver.
Fitz’s shoulders sunk. “Why won’t you just leave them?”
“I’m packing them because they’re OUR memories Fitz.”
“But why would you want them, you should just toss it all, leave it here to be condemned with the rest of the damn building.”
“I won’t do that!”
“Why not?!”
“Because I don’t want to lose them, I don’t want to lose you!” Jemma shouted finally turning back on him. “I know right now you want nothing to do with them and that you think that you don’t deserve them but I know that we deserve them and I’m not going to let today be the reason that when we finally have our own place we don’t have any pictures for the wall, I’m not going to let today be the reason we don’t have a box of bottle caps and post cards to show our kids and tell them how we met or have your favorite book that your mum used to read to you to read to them.”
Fitz didn't say anything, just gaped at her.
“I know you think that we can’t have that anymore, I heard what you said to AIDA, that this-“ she gestured between them, “is dead, but it’s not.”
“Jemma-“
“Please let me finish Fitz.” She said taking a step closer to him. “I know that you’re going to need time to heal and truly I think I do too but we can do that together, even more I know we can’t do it if we’re apart-“
“Jemma-“
“We don’t have time to argue about this now Fitz, so I’m going to pack anything and everything I might ever want to see again and I want you to do the same.”
“JEMMA!”
“What?”
“You-you’ve thought about all that?”
“About what?”
“About a future and kids.”
“Oh,” Jemma paused in her frantic packing. How he didn’t know when she told him even long before they got together that she only ever saw him in her future. She was reminded of her brief conversation with his LDM and how Fitz had thought about proposing but didn’t know what she would say. “Yes of course I think about it, quite a bit actually.”
“Even after everything you saw me do.”
“Not you Fitz.”
“It was me.” He said sadly.
“Maybe in some other world than, but he’s not the one I want all that with, you are, kind, sweet, wonderful you.”
“I just-“
“I know you’re scared Fitz and it’s hard to discern one reality from the other but you would never hurt an innocent person.” She stepped forward to embrace him. He stiffened for a moment but loosened up after a minute or so, his arms came up to circle around her shoulders. “For the record Fitz,” she said angling her head up to look him in the eyes, “whenever you’re ready to ask, the answer is yes.”
He freezes up again and she tucks her face into his neck. After a moment she feels him press his lips to the top of her head. “What else do we need to pack?”
“I think I’ve nearly got it all.” Jemma said, pulling away. She gave the room another once over, there were a few Knick knacks on the dresser in the corner. She took a closer look, determining only the most recent letter from her parents made the cut. She turned around to see Fitz kicking shut the lower drawer of his bedside table. A few things were discarded on the bed but his hands were shoved into his pockets.
“I think we should check the kitchen to see if any of our mugs made it through the fray.”
“I’m not sure they’ll serve tea in prison.”
“I’ll have to start a riot.” A small smile peaked its way onto Fitz’s face and Jemma felt one creeping onto her own. Fitz scooped up his box and made to pick up hers as well but she beat him to it. “I’ve got it, you’ll need to grab your go bag as well.” Jemma moved to the bed to collect her own. Her eyes lingered briefly on the pile Fitz had dumped out from the drawer to make sure he hadn’t left something he might one day regret. Nothing stood out but she noticed a sketchbook under the pile.
“You should take that with you, it’s got some great ideas in it.”
“What-oh-yeah I guess, I could always pick one up later.”
“Well you don’t want to lose all that work you’ve already started, you’ve got some room there.”
Fitz picked up the hardcover sketchbook, looked it over and slid it into the box. “After you.”
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cosmosogler · 7 years
Text
hi guys. today snoopy let me touch more of her while i was petting and brushing her. so i took care of some of the more scruffy looking spots around her stomach.
also i got up at 6:40 and was Extremely Unhappy for the entire morning. we got a couple real gems of questions at ta orientation- “what if a student is faking a disability?” “what if a ta is falsely accused of sexual harassment?” “what if you genuinely compliment a black person like ‘you did really great today’ and they just get mad for no reason?” “i think they should try just not being offended.”
the sexual assault talk went on for like 20 minutes and by the time we got through the asinine questions about girls randomly accusing their well-meaning tas of sexual harassment i was so exhausted that i wanted to die. i complained about it to the other physics students i was sitting by. 
oh yeah, i met some other physics students. i like them a lot. i also liked the 90-minute lecture a LOT. the idea of deep learning vs surface learning or strategic learning really affected me. i found the guy’s books online for like 20 dollars too. might look into that more.
and i met with my graduate adviser only one minute late. i had underestimated the size of campus when i took off for the physics building after lunch. we ended up talking for twice my appointment time just about random stuff like second languages since he was chinese american. but within the first three minutes of our meeting he mentioned he was worried and that i would have to work REALLY HARD to keep my gpa at an acceptable level during grad school. it was really demoralizing to feel like he didn’t have any confidence in me. 
i asked him if this was about my villanova transcript and he said yeah. i couldn’t really get into a sob story or anything so i just said that it had been a really bad environment for me. he asked “what if this is a bad environment for you too?” and i didn’t really have a good answer. i worried about it a lot after i headed back to the orientation building.
i saw in the group chat that the other majors had peaced out so i walked home. it took like 40 minutes because i got turned around while i was looking at my phone and it was too cloudy to see the sun. when i got home i was drenched. 
i can’t tell if snoop is gaining weight or if i’m just getting used to how bony she is and she feels softer because i’m expecting it. or maybe it’s because her fur looks a lot better now that i’ve brushed and wiped for a couple days. i catch her snacking at her food bowl every now and then and she’ll eat out of my hand until she isn’t hungry any more at least, but i don’t find a lot in her litter box. she seems very happy when i’m paying attention to her and she’s still trying out a couple different perches. yesterday i noticed after i had given her several handfuls of cookies that she was cleaning her own paws and face for the first time.
i guess i am impatient. i know i’ve only known her for five days but i have already imprinted and want her to be a happy spoiled old cat. well i mean, i want all dogs and cats and every animal ever to be happy and spoiled and fawned over. 
i’m starting to understand that cats, at least house cats, seem to be pretty happy with their very small territories. dogs go nuts if they can’t get outside, but ping and now snoopy don’t seem to be very interested in it. well, ping was, because he liked going under the porch. but snoopy avoids the door and just sits in the windowsill when it’s sunny. so i dunno.
still feeling pretty sick after i eat... dinner was a little better today. hopefully it will continue to get better and i don’t still have a serious internal organ problem.
the other night i dreamed i was in a field that was supposed to belong to a farm. but there were big metal spires sticking out of the ground everywhere and they were all partially obscured by fog. on the horizon there was a city skyline of the spires. they weren’t doing anything but i really hated them and every time i had to go out walking in the field my shoulders would be up around my ears waiting for the bad thing to happen already. but it didn’t- at least, i woke up before it did.
tomorrow i will try to ride the bus to school. i want to get there at 9-ish to start studying with my classmates. i did actually study some physics today! i didn’t do any problems, but i watched through the whole recommended lecture we got from the quantum professor and i really enjoyed it and a lot of stuff started coming back to me. 
my graduate adviser put a lot of emphasis on being able to solve problems by myself. he said it was good to get help and to work together in groups, but that i would have to solve my own problems and do my own work if i wanted to be successful. 
i dunno i just don’t know what hard work looks like. i feel like i barely spend any time on myself anyway and now they want more? even my me-time is eaten up by a whole lot of doing ABSOLUTELY NOTHING to take care of myself. i practically just stare at the wall for hours. at least the last few days i’ve been making use of my evenings with all the paperwork and the emails and the calendar setup and the phone calls. 
i feel like i missed my chance to “get over” my depression. like maybe at this point in the game it’s too late to learn how to be confident. because i KNOW my lack of confidence is really hurting my performance in class. i know that. i know that if i pretend to be more confident i will genuinely feel more confident and that will boost my test scores, at least in theory. (in practice i don’t think it actually helped which didn’t help my confidence at all.) 
what is hard work? is it sacrificing the things you like to do in order to do the things you have to do? i already don’t do any of the things i like to do, except maybe pokemon, which takes literally less than ten minutes of my day the vast majority of days. i don’t read books, i don’t go on long walks just to enjoy fresh air, i don’t watch any of the movies or play any of the games i’ve had sitting on my desk for years now. i just don’t have any energy to actually sit and enjoy myself. it feels like 10% of my energy goes toward taking care of myself (which is fine...), 10% of my energy goes toward actually doing physics, and 80% of my energy goes toward yelling at myself to do something, ANYTHING, that might be useful or at least active in any way. 80% of my energy goes toward “don’t think about killing myself” and you know how it is when you try not to think about a specific thing. 
the last nine months i feel like i’ve just been along for the ride in my own life. i can’t imagine things that are not directly in front of me. my memories feel vague and like i am making them up or being inaccurate in some self-serving way. poor sammie! her dad grabbed her even when she told him to stop. but did that REALLY happen? did it really happen like that? am i just being a whiny baby? is this what learned helplessness is? how do you stop being helpless? how do i stop asking people to do things for me, or expecting things to just get done, without putting a gargantuan effort into actually doing it? just putting myself in an environment where i CAN succeed isn’t enough. i have to actually do the succeeding. but i don’t know how to do anything. all i know how to do is ride it out, or follow the directions, or keep my head down while the world morphs around me. 
at least when i was getting beat by mom all the time i still wanted to ask questions. i still wanted the answers to those questions. now it just feels like i’m laying facedown all the time.
what am i gonna do about it? go through the motions some more? i can set up a therapy appointment and attend it and do work while at the appointment, but i gotta have the energy to do work outside of the appointment too if i actually want to get better. but i don’t know if i can get better. and trying and failing is so painful. mom makes sure of that.
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teiranlavellan · 7 years
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Leliana’s Scouts vs Cullen’s Soldiers
@dadrunkwriting
@thevikingwoman Thank you for the prompt!
I actually got to write the rest of them and it was so much fun!  (My own writing is chronological, we don’t have anyone except for Cass, Solas, Varric and the Advisors).
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Their camp was nearly packed, but Blackwall and Teiran were still staring at the poorly concealed bundles of gathered herbs, mined obsidian with the superfluous weapons and armor.  Teiran held three books in her crossed arms as she rose from her squat next to the burly warrior and began pacing.  Again.
“Can we really afford to spend more time on this than we already have?  Everything has made it back to Skyhold safely so far after all.”  Blackwall reasoned, hoping his soothing tone would encourage a resolution.
Teiran stopped pacing, hugged the books in her arms tighter, and shook her head resolutely.  “These have to make it back, Blackwall.  They have to.  What if someone else finds it before they can get to it?  We hide them the same way every time.  What if bandits have been watching us hide it the same way every time?”
“I think you are overthinking this.”  Blackwall grumbled.
The Dalish elf’s pacing had taken her out onto a ledge, away from the camp. She frowned into the dark, overcast sky resolutely.  The rest of the Inquisition’s inner circle only had to glance at her posture and expression before putting down their packs and settling in for the inevitable discussion.  Except for Cole, who had disappeared, which surprised no one.
Sera nosily padded through the mud over to Teiran, throwing her arms around her neck.  Teiran jumped, being brought out of her thoughts with a sudden grip around her neck startling her.  “Sera! Please stop doing that!”  Teiran huffed.
“You’re waaay too easy, you know tha’?”  Sera commented and then broke into a fit of giggles at the possible innuendo of her phrase. “But then you’re not tho right?  Cause you aren’t rubbing bits so you’re actually hard.  Too hard lady bits.  We need to work on that . . . ”
“Oh, honestly, does every conversation with you have to be about my personal life?”  Teiran tried to break Sera’s grip, but also keep a solid hold of the books in one arm.
The rest of the Inquisition watched the scene with varied expressions.  They had been traveling together long enough to be moderately acquainted with each other, however Vivienne’s beautiful face still shot daggers over at Sera.  Dorian sighed dramatically; shaking his head and watching the scene play out with moderate amusement.  And Solas became very interested in the ground under his feet.
“No wait!  I’ve got an answer for ya.  You should let me do it.”  Sera proposed, still holding the Inquisitor under her arm.
“Do what?  Let go of me!”  Teiran insisted.
Sera let her pull away, “Pfft.  Hide the stuff of course!  Come on, Your Worship.  No baddie will ever be able to find it once I’m done.”
Teiran rolled her eyes, “That’s it though, Sera.  The Inquisition soldiers need to be able to find it tomorrow.”
“I could write where Sera hides it when I send my report to Scout Harding.” Cassandra offered tersely.  She and Blackwall sat next to each other, their shared impatience growing with each stroke of oiled rag on armor.  Varric and the Iron Bull exchanged an intrigued glance.
Varric’s smooth voice wound its way to where Sera and Teiran stood, “But then what if your messages become waylaid Seeker—”
Cassandra interrupted him, “Then we have a lot more to worry about than resources.”
“Still, it would be a shame . . . How about I write a message to go along with your report?  Clues as to where the treasure is hidden.”  Varric smiled wickedly.
 Sera was literally bouncing in place, shouting in Teiran’s ears with excitement.  While Varric smiled at the effect of his words.
Teiran covered her ears and ducked away from Sera’s exclamations.  The camp stirred with the prospect, all eyes watching their leader for her decision. 
Teiran looked at her books, then at Sera’s buzzed expression, then over to Varric’s mischievous smile.
“They have to be able to find them, Varric.”  Teiran ruled.
Sera punched her fist in the air, grabbed Teiran’s books, then ran headlong back to Blackwall’s pile of resources.
“Bull, keep Sera from hurting herself or my books. And Blackwall, make sure this doesn’t get out of hand please.”  Teiran delegated, trying to ensure success.
The massive Qunari cracked a smile, “Whatever you say boss.”  Teiran smiled back, she knew he would have helped regardless.
She met Blackwall’s gaze, smiling apologetically.  Teiran knew she needed someone to balance out the enthusiasm, but asking Cassandra, Solas, Dorian, Vivienne or Cole would have made them miserable.  Blackwall sighed resignedly, “Alright then.”
 ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Josephine Montilyet rolled the message from Scout Harding, an easy task since the scroll had been damp and then dried on its journey from Crestwood to Skyhold.  Josephine placed her initials on the back of the scroll, placing it atop her pyramid of similarly marked ones.  However, instead of reaching for another unread one, she continued to gaze speculatively at Harding’s message.
Along with the list of resources and weapons the Inquisition had gained so far with Teiran’s foray into Crestwood, the intrepid Scout Harding had also included the tally of caches found by both sides.
Josephine’s eyebrows furrowed and she placed her chin in her palm.  Her other hand picked up her quill unconsciously and twirled it as she contemplated the scroll.  She noticed her ink-smeared fingers too late, apparently she had dipped the quill in ink without consciously meaning too either.  “I wish the Inquisitor would call an end to this.  It may boost morale in the short term, but we need everyone to work together as the Inquisition.”  Josephine thought at the offending scroll.
The door to her study creaked open only halfway before Leliana had slipped quietly inside.  She was settling herself in the plush armchair next to the fire by the time the door closed of its own accord.
The Diplomat eyed the innocent looking, redhead as she gazed into her teacup. As a matter of pride and necessity, Josephine always had a steaming kettle and tea at the ready.  She felt it part of her duty to the Inquisition to be ready to entertain guests whenever they dropped by; and in truth she enjoyed maintaining that perception of her.  However, Leliana’s nonchalant demeanor did not fool her.
“Good evening, Leliana.  I was just about to call for Aronhalaan, but since you’re here . . .” Josephine reached for the satchel behind her desk full of scrolls lacking Leliana’s characteristic swirl of lines she used to mark the scrolls she had read.  By the time she had retrieved the satchel, Leliana was in front of her desk, casually inspecting the pyramid of scrolls on her desk.
“It is good that Teiran is in Crestwood.  We are running low on Embrium.  Perhaps we should send word to Scout Harding to mark it as a priority?”  Leliana asked.
Josephine opened her mouth to retort when a knock interrupted her.  Her expression smoothed as she looked from Leliana to the door, “Come in.”  
Commander Cullen appeared in her office, closing the door gently behind him.  “Ah, we’re all here.  Good.”  Cullen observed awkwardly, still standing in the entryway.
Josephine sighed and beckoned him, “Please, have a seat Commander.  Leliana?”  She arched an eyebrow at her friend, warning her away from thoughts bent towards pilfering her messages.  
Leliana and Cullen sat in the two armchairs before the fire, watching as Josephine took the scroll off her desk.   She unfurled it as she stood with her back to the fireplace, rereading it hastily.
“Cullen’s soldiers, after searching every abandoned house in the area, found the last one in the rafters. Apparently, they crafted a rather large bird’s nest and I am told that the items were shaped like eggs.” Josephine explained, still staring at the message.
Leliana scowled, “We took the nest to be metaphoric. Poetic!”
Cullen relaxed, “Good thing my soldiers don’t overthink things.”  He lightly poked fun at the assumption that the scouts would outsmart his men.
“However, Leliana’s scouts found another two days ago disguised as stepping stones across a river.”  Josephine finished, revealing that the two competing parties were tied once again.
Leliana sat up and wore a small smile, “My scouts can spot deception wherever it may hide.”
Now it was Cullen’s turn to frown, “I take it one of the mages helped with that one.  Are they apart of this too?”
Josephine eyed the two of them, “This is ridiculous.  We should be working together, rather than competing with each other.”  Cullen and Leliana shared a glance before staring up at the ambassador.
“It’s good for morale.  Before this, I had to force the assignment on my men.  Following the Inquisitor to retrieve resources is not the most exciting or comfortable task on our list.  Now, they have formed squads and share the past puzzles to see if those who were not assigned can guess where the supplies were found.”  Cullen explained, bursting with pride for his soldiers.
“I have seen similar results among my scouts.  I see no harm in allowing it to continue.”  Leliana added.
Josephine eyed the two of them, “For now.  However, I would suggest that when we go to the Hissing Wastes that this become an exercise in compromise.  The squads should be mixed, both scouts and soldiers completing a mission together.”
Cullen thought a moment before gruffly replying, “Agreed.”
Leliana shrugged in compliance.
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