#which woke me up within the dream and then possibly also in real life. and those were the dreams i had this morning!

[coquelicoq]

my dreams are so stupid. i dreamt that i was trying to look up the spanish word for "taxi" on wordreference but it kept failing in increasingly ridiculous ways. first it told me the word was "coney," which is clearly not a spanish word. then it sent me to the dutch dictionary instead. then it told me there's no english-spanish dictionary actually, just a spanish-english dictionary. so i wake up and look it up on real wordreference and it turns out the spanish word for taxi is "taxi." figures.

#also dreamt that i was getting on a plane and as part of this process the flight attendant had to ask about my facial piercinng #but instead of asking me about it she asked my friend and i was like hello i'm right here‚ don't ask her ask me #and she referred to it as my 'hypertensive piercing' or something which makes NO sense #also i was dating eminem. and i forgot to take my water bottle on the plane and told my friend that this would give me 'stank breath' #eminem and i were only going to be dating for like a week for some reason and i was like oh that's good he won't have time to beat me #😬 okay yikes #then i was (sort of?) reenacting the plot of frankenstein with another friend and we were supposed to be going from my laboratory #into the basement but every time we went down the stairs we just ended up back in the laboratory #which looked different every time and the steps down into the basement looked different #i thought this was HILARIOUS but my friend was less amused #eventually i ended up in a ball pit while other people were looking down on me from above telling me that come halloween they would be #buying my shirt. this was a threat somehow #oh also!! jesse if you're reading this i had a dream about your dog!! #except there were three of them and their names all started with G. but i didn't notice all of them at first only the smallest one #and i was like wait wasn't jesse's dog way bigger than this??? hmm well i guess he completely changed size. you know. as dogs do #meanwhile there were two whole other dogs in the room that i didn't notice for like. hours #i was sleeping in your bed (upside down for some reason) while you were sleeping elsewhere in the apartment but the dogs were in with me #which was all dandy until you closed the door to the bedroom (with you on the other side) and the dogs got very anxious w/o you :( #which woke me up within the dream and then possibly also in real life. and those were the dreams i had this morning! #dreams

[henrike-does-writing-sometimes]

Can you hear me out there ?

A little after Kayara awakens, still unfamiliar to the lonliness, they try to speak with the other planets. Hoping for the silence to end.

I don’t know how this came to be, but I wanted to explore Kayara before they got comfortable with their role as “Mother Earth”

This is also probably the only time I’ll every write in first person so, enjoy !

Word count: 784  Warnings: I don’t know what it’s called, but basically someone being isolated with no means of escaping Wip: The Divine Characters: Kayara, the sacred entity (planet Earth)

: Taglist - @vacantgodling :

Let me know if you want to be added/removed !

//

I know who I am, strange as it is. I understood the moment I woke up in this lonely space. Permanently stuck in this orbit. I tried to leave once, but I can’t move. I can speak, however. I’m thankful that I can, this silence would’ve been unbearable otherwise. 

There are others like me, I think. I can feel them. Like we’re linked despite the great distance between us. They are clear to me, much clearer than the planets in my own system. I'm unsure why I feel them, but perhaps it is because they too carry life. Small creatures we’ve tasked to protect. By who I don't know, but I won't fail them. There isn't much I can do, but I can do enough. Maybe they feel the same. This sense of guardianship, and strange kind of love.

I hope they do. I hope they love their humans just as much as I do.

All I know about them are the small bits of information that transfer between my humans. Things they talk about, gush about. Dream about. I can’t hear them as they speak, they are much too small. But I gain their knowledge. That’s how I know the name which they use to refer to me. That is how I know the names of the planets I feel so strongly connected to. 

And it’s with the curiosity to learn more that I one day call out to them. 

“Hello.” my voice is strange. It’s layered, and echoes. It’s feminine, masculine and androgynous all the same. But other than my voice, it is silent. It’s silent for a good while before I try again.

"The humans call me Earth, or Terra. But my name is Kayara." truthfully, I don't know how I came to learn my name. Nobody has used it when talking about me. But I know it's my name, just as I know I'm a planet.  “What are your names?” it’s a greeting costum to my humans, the sharing of names. It’s how they connect, by sharing. Name, time, home, food. They love to share, maybe I can do the same.

When no answers come, I turn my attention to what I believe is the closest planet to me. Turquoise and golden in color. It is also the smallest. I’ve heard my humans tower over its humans. 

"They call you Effedonia, right? You have what my humans call dragons. Giant reptiles that can fly. They're just myth here, but to you they're real. Do some of them spit fire?" it doesn’t answer. Maybe its sleeping, turned away from its sun. I don’t think I’ve ever slept, but perhaps it’s something I will do in the future. I might be too young still. 

Effedonia deserves some rest, so I move on to the next. The planet is a cold shade of blue, witch white clouds swirling within its atmosphere. 

"Malcedom, is it cold over there, wherever you are? I heard you're the farthest away from your sun out of us. In some of my colder regions it snows all year around. Do you have snow?" I can get cold sometimes, usually when my moon eclipses the sun. It’s possible Malcedom is constantly freezing, or at the very least cold. Does it ever long for warmth? My question goes unanswered. 

There is only one planet left I feel connected too. Its the biggest of us all, and in a constant state of blushing.

"You're like me, Tsym. We're both the only planets in our systems with flowing water. But yours is pink! And you have crystal lakes that are exposed and safe to swim in. That's super cool!" my humans fawn over Tsym’s pink and shimmering ocean. Effedonia and Malcedom also have water, but it’s the same blue and transparent shade as mine. I wonder if their humans fawn over Tsym’s oceans too.

I wonder if all of their humans find me spectacular too. Perhaps in my diverse landscapes and climates. Perhaps the sheer depths of my ocean, the deepest of us all. 

Nobody speaks. Nobody answers. It's quite. Always is unless I speak. Sometimes I wonder if my voice even reaches them at all. After all, I'm only a conscience. A psyche. I don't exist in the physical sense. And sound doesn’t travel in space, so my humans claim. But perhaps it’s different for me, different for them. 

Maybe they hear me, but cannot themselves reply. Maybe I am the only one of my kind, and that no other planet can think and hear and speak like I do. 

But I feel them. I know they're out there. I can't be alone. 

I don't want to be alone.

"Please say something."

#writeblr #writing #writers on tumblr #wip #drabble #wip drabble #wip : The Divine #this technically is incompadible with the timeline but shhhh #angst

[diamondsableye]

Self acceptance is giving up: When happiness means losing

Howdy there lol I’m totally having a normal one and in an epic cringefail moment I decided to write an essay and post it online instead of talking to friends or family or even a therapist about my feelings which I definitely don’t have as a man :)

TW for trans men also dealing with some serious self hatred.  I use some strong language and metaphors at times, so if that’s upsetting, this is not for you.  In addition, if you feel personally attacked, that is not my intention at all, this is just me dealing with some personal shiz and trying to get it out, in the hope that there are others who feel similarly since I know for certain I’m not alone in theory but idk anyone else personally going through this so in practice I feel really alone in this.

Below is an excerpt that outlines what I’ll be talking about, the full thing is rather long so the rest is below the cutaway:

“Masculinity is a competition.  In our patriarchal society, very few men actually reap the rewards it supposedly grants and promises.  Intersection with any sort of marginalized group typically precludes one from ascending to the top, beating the competition.  Every man who has ever suffered from any insecurity knows this to be true, even if they haven’t thought of the larger picture yet. [...]   It’s a competition.  We’re aiming for the top.  Why bother to point out that we’re all losing together, if not for the point of mockery? ”

Self acceptance is giving up: When happiness means losing

I am a trans man.  And I hate myself.  I hate myself because I am not cis, and I have memorized an entire laundry list of data points that make me different and therefore inferior to cis men.  You would think this is counter intuitive, and you would be right.  It is 100% self emotional sabotage.  And yet.  Whenever I hear someone championing my existence, trying to build me up or fight some oppressive force with rhetoric and academic wit, my very first instinctual gut reaction is to instantaneously shove it all down, to deny it or poke holes in the logic, while at the same time believing that even if I am not a man in society, that I am a man inside my head or soul or wherever else, as if the spirit of manliness somehow resides within the cosmic ether or something of the like.  I am well aware that the level of cognitive dissonance I hold rivals that of a christian who believes in an all loving god who can do no evil and also simultaneously created sickness, famine, and war.  My knowledge of my own illogical ruminations does not stop me from continuing this practice.  But why?  Why do I obsess over my own supposed failings at every possible step?  Why do I beat myself over the head with YWNBAM (You WIll Never Be A Man) mantras with an absolutely driven intent to disprove anything that states that it’s okay to be what I am?  Because self acceptance means that I have given up.

Masculinity is a competition.  In our patriarchal society, very few men actually reap the rewards it supposedly grants and promises.  Intersection with any sort of marginalized group typically precludes one from ascending to the top, beating the competition.  Every man who has ever suffered from any insecurity knows this to be true, even if they haven’t thought of the larger picture yet.  We know the guy we all dream of being, the one who seemingly has everything.  Big muscles, big body, big penis, big salary, big family, big home, big everything, big big big. Larger than life it seems.  (also, he tends to be white, neurotypical, not physically handicapped in any way, and a real “ladies man”, so presumably straight as well.)   It is also worth noting that within this traditional framework, I am 100% excluded from even the lowest rung.  In the modern day, when the framework still exists but just more “woke” by allowing my participation, I’m still at the bottom due to my natural shortcomings.  Much more so than my cis counterparts.  At the very least, in the traditional frame, a runner with stunted legs wasn’t made to compete with others of able bodies.  Now, I am allowed, or rather, forced to compete with my stunted legs, and a fraction of the training time most others experienced.  Is it any wonder why I truly feel so deeply inadequate?  Why on earth would I feel it possible to believe that there is nothing wrong with my body the way it is, when my run times are so disparaged, and my peer’s only solace is that “there are plenty of other people out there with other conditions making it difficult to run”.  Yes, I am aware of this, and their run times are just as poor.  It’s a competition.  We’re aiming for the top.  Why bother to point out that we’re all losing together, if not for the point of mockery?

I am vivisecting my spiritual heart on a sterilized table just to be able to get the words out.

Sure, I am not denying the fact that I would be a much happier person if I was taller, more attractive, more athletic, had a bigger member, etc.  I would be much much happier with myself if all of those things were true.  But to say I would be satisfied would be very foolhardy.  Indeed, in the competition, it is never enough to just be at the top of the pyramid, you have to be at the very tip, the pinnacle of manliness for whom all else look up to and admire.  In this way, you can never be tall enough, rich enough, attractive enough, fit enough, etc.  There will always be more of the mountain to climb, more of the pyramid to envy and scale.  You are always aiming for a faster time, even when it isn’t physically possible anymore.  But since you’ve already come this far, might as well go for broke.  You tear yourself apart, ripping all that makes you sound and happy to pieces in an effort to gain even an inch up the slope, recklessly chasing the dragon with suicidal abandon.  Because.  To give up on everything you worked on so far, is to admit you were never good enough or deserving enough to sit at the top.  You’re just a weak little quitter who deserves to be at the very bottom for such heresy.  To give up on the rat race, to try and slow down and find your own happiness is heresy.  It is the blaspheming stemming from the mouths of the weakest ones of all, the ones who try to cope with their failure to ascend by telling themselves they’re “perfect as is”, when really they’re just too cowardly to admit that they couldn’t handle the grind.

For someone like myself, there’s only two paths, and none of them are good.  Self acceptance is difficult.  It requires diligence and a comfort for constantly facing troubled mindsets and mental frameworks, which requires a herculean effort at times, but also because it goes against the framework laid out.  You cannot accept yourself if it means losing, but you cannot think of it as anything but without acceptance.  There is no easy out.  It requires a complete shift in perspective that has been built up for years, and said shift has already been outlined as the actions of the cowardly who cannot compete and who settle for coping with their inadequacy instead.  It also means that, if the whole pyramid thing is a lie, you have to wake up and cope with the fact that you spent so much time chasing a pipe dream.  No one likes admitting that all their time was wasted by fruitless endeavors, and such is a stronger psychological force than others like to give credit for.  It also means losing out on any potential benefits you may have received during your time as a runner, and while for me I have none, for others who have accrued some, this alone may prevent deeper introspection.

On the other hand, staying on track of the chase is certainly worse, but it’s the devil you know.  It is a comfort.  It means you don’t have to do the difficult work of accepting your shortcomings, admitting you lost the race.  As long as you’re running, you may be a loser now, but if you just keep going hard enough, eventually you’ll see rewards for your efforts. Just keep going, you’ll get them eventually, I’m sure.  Aside from inner peace, there is nothing promised from self acceptance.  You get nothing from quitting, in fact, you may actually lose things.  But if you keep running, there’s all sorts of mystical patriarchal promises in store, like a family and kids and a yard with a picket fence, all those nice things.  As long as you keep running, make sure no matter what you keep running.  If society looked on you favorably for running the race, the moment you stop to smell the roses is the moment they turn on you.  As long as other people feel they have to keep running, we all believe we need to suffer this hell together, and if not, you’re weak and scourge that needs to be ridiculed either until you start running again or you conveniently disappear.  There is no room on the sidelines for stragglers.  There’s the carrot, and the stick, and both of them are huge.

I look at other types of trans men (and sometimes cis men) often with disgust due to this frame of thinking, but I will not deny that there is a festering envy to them as well.  I routinely struggle to conceive of myself as a man, but these guys?  Who wear makeup and skirts and don’t even bother with the competition at all?  It’s disgusting!  They’re so arrogant that they think of themselves as men, so full of themselves, and so so so deeply confident.  Confident, without even once bothering to measure how fast they run in the rat race.  Confident, from internal validation, and from other sources outside of their dash times or the height of the pyramid they’ve scaled.  Their happiness is disgusting, because it is a reminder.  They’re supposed to be losers, they’re supposed to hate themselves and want to climb like everyone else, and yet they’re not.  Even though I have always seen wanting to escape as coping with the fact that I’m just not good enough to be a man, they’re out there, living authentically, without a trace of hidden languishing or self doubt.  

They see me, constantly sore, sweaty and out of breath.  They ask me if I enjoy running.  I say I do, and it’s not a lie.  They ask if I like being forced to compete.  I don’t.  They say, if I hate competing so much, why not run just for the hell of it?  I try to explain that I’m not a quitter and that running to get the best time in the race is how it is in the world, how you get respect and success, and that no one is taken seriously if their times are low, even if they just naturally don’t have the capacity to run fast.  They ask if happiness and satisfaction lay within this definition of success.  I say yes, which is a lie.  I actually know that no matter what, I’ll never get fast enough.  I’ll always be on the bottom rung no matter what, and yet, I wouldn’t be happy even if I got higher and higher.  Even if I were to get faster and faster in the race, getting so fast I truly was the fastest of them all, what exactly lies at the top?  Sure, status, privilege, all those other nice things, but happiness?  Personal satisfaction?  

The loneliest thing in the world is to become a god.  When you become untouchable, there is nothing left you can touch.  Even with no more obstacles you keep running, and you keep running, and you keep running until you die.  After climbing your Everest, there is no beautiful view to be seen.  Only darkness from above, and a pile of dead bodies below you.  There is no descending down the mountain after.

It is adapt or die.  You have to be willing to survive, which is hard if you’re suicidal.  I am deeply aware of the fact that what I’m doing currently, attempting to compete or even thinking in such a framework is deeply hurtful and detrimental to my wellbeing.  And yet, despite knowing that self acceptance is the only way out, the only path to true lasting happiness and satisfaction, I just can’t do it.  I can’t accept that I’ll never be as big or as strong as the majority of my cis counterparts.  I can’t accept that I’ll never have a real penis, in the same way cis men have theirs.  I can’t accept that I’ll never be - forget being at the top of the pyramid - even close to the middle.  I keep holding out hope that maybe someday my stunted legs will grow finally and I’ll be able to compete for real, or even, just run for the hell of it without lagging behind the other joggers, even when it isn’t a race at all.  Within my current framework, it means that accepting what cannot be changed means accepting I’ll never be as real as a man compared to other guys.  It does not matter that perhaps there are so many others dealing with the same in born problems as me, because within this framework *they are not real men either*, and why would I want to be like them if I want to be a *real man*?  I don’t want self acceptance if it means giving up on the ridiculous dream of being a *real man*.

For those of you who have achieved it, you possess a treasure I am envious of, and one I simultaneously will not pursue.  You have earned every bit of it and more.  

#transgender #transphobia #tw internalized transphobia #tw transandrophobia #tw transphobia #essay #rant #writing #trans men #masculinity #long post #men #society #we live in a society #the secret 3rd option is becoming the joker #transandrophobia #trans man

[carptoons]

Yes I'm going to continue with this.

21st March 2020

Brother, Juxtaposition, Xylophone [school friend], I think Jail [someone I went to school with], and I were having breakfast at the kitchen table, but all the food was hidden in this grid so that what they ate was a surprise. There was a loaf of pretzel which was tasty and had pink icing, but they all started eating melon, and so did I, and I really didn't like it or the way that it dripped everywhere.

Dad said it was time for me to get rid of my GCSE art chairs [I decorated two chairs for my art exam], and was angry that I hadn't done this sooner. I looked out of the window and the chairs were there, but there were about 5 of them stacked up, and this was incredibly distressing to me (possibly because I was concerned it was an obstruction for other people on the street). I said that we should just take them to the tip and Dad and Brother got angry and said that if I wanted that then I should have said something earlier, even though I had been saying this for the last several months.

Then I was in the Local Shopping Centre, but it was also a sort of outdoor adventure park. Baguette was looking after a monkey that was living there, but this creepy janitor let it escape. I went to look for it and had a really good conversation with some indistinct people from School I Went To, who actually listened to me and made me feel like I was clever for understanding what it was I was saying. I also made friends with somebody else called Baguette (possible Jam's friend Baguette), but he kept merging with my friend Baguette and I couldn't work out if he was older or younger than me.

We found this monkey, but this time my friend Ben was covered in mud from looking for him, so he had to go to the toilets (but not the ones in the Local Shopping Centre for some reason) to clean himself. He took ages, and when he got back, and when he got back I was getting on really well with the new friend Baguette and the people from School I Went To, and new Baguette gave me a very nice hug.

It then got a bit meta when I had a dream within this dream that the same group of people and I went on the Great British Bake Off. Some contestants (possibly Insect and Amphibian [close friends of mine when I was in primary school]), so I had to read their announcements. D*nald T*ump came over and took me to another table to read them.

He put me in a headlock and I immediately expressed my discomfort with this, before progressing to scream for him to let me go, but he didn't, and none of the other people in the tent came to help me. I remember thinking that this was a meta dream and that I had a lot to write in my dream journal.

I then woke up in the dream thinking I was awake in real life, and I realised that New Baguette's water bottle and Tube's BMO wallet were on my drum stool, and Baguette's water bottle had a crack and was somehow flooding the whole room, including my sketchbook and dream journey. I picked them up and luckily they  weren't too wet. I tried to stem the flow with Jam's Dig Out Your Soul t-shirt, but this was quickly soaked. Eventually it ran out of water, and I woke up for real. 

#dream journal #dream #dreams #art college

[bibliobile]

More Than This by Patrick Ness

Ness, Patrick. More than This. Candlewick Press, 2014.

Summary-

More Than This by Patrick Ness, follows the experience of Seth, a teenage boy who died by suicide and woke up seemingly before his life as he knew it ever really started. Despite dying against the rocks in an American beach town, Seth wakes up naked, covered in bandages in front of his childhood home in England. The only problem is, no one is home, no one is home anywhere he goes. The streets are abandoned with knee high weeds and sinkholes, the houses are dilapidated and dusty, and there is no sign of human life other than him for miles. He spends his days trying to find food, and water, while also trying to figure out what is going on. His nights are spent dreaming of his life before he died, some memories good, some bad, and most ugly. After spending countless days in a wasteland with only his memories to keep him company, Seth decides he is going to try and end things again and see if escape is really possible. On his way to the cliff, he sees the first sign of life he has since waking up, a heavier set black girl with an English accent, Regine, and a young polish boy, Tomasz. Regine and Tomasz find Seth just in time to save him from the only other semblance of ‘life’ he has experienced in his time awake, The Driver. The Driver spends his time hunting and capturing those who are awake in this world. After escaping The Driver, the three of them figure out the common thread between their deaths, they all died from being hit in the same place on the back of the head, a place that now has a lump and blinking light beneath the skin for all of them. The three of them then spend their time trying to figure out: where everyone is, if any of this is real, if any of their lives before were real, or if there being ‘more than this’ real truly matters if you are happy where you are.

Personal Response-

My opinions on this book truly are varied. I found myself nearly putting it down around the 100-page point because of its truly slow beginning, but decided that if I had made it that far, I should see the book through the rest of its 360 pages. Despite the book’s slow beginning I enjoyed the narrative and found myself getting attached to the characters within the pages. The story is very dystopian and wrestles with questions I found myself wrestling with at 15 like ‘is this all there is to life’ ‘is there some bigger meaning’ ‘is there more than this?” Despite the main storyline being a plot of survival, reminiscent of Hatchet by Gary Paulson, the storyline of Seth’s life before that told readers what led him to the cliff to begin with is what truly drew me in. This book felt like a tool to trick young readers into thinking about philosophy and the meaning of life as they sink into a world of fighting robots and surviving the end of the world as we know it.

Connections-

At first glance this book does not appear to carry the main YA literature tropes that are commonly seen in the genre, but as the character of Seth is unfolded before us through his dreams, his life as a teenager begins to take shape. Before his death, Seth was an average teenage boy living in America after moving from England when he was eight after the ‘incident.’ In America, Seth struggles with identity as most teenagers do, as well as guilt from the incident that brought him to America to begin with. When he was eight and his younger brother Owen was four, his mother left them home alone, where an escaped prisoner from the local prison knocked on their window and threatened Seth to let him in. Out of fear, Seth obeyed and his younger brother was taken. When Owen was found three days later, he had severe injuries that led to neurological damage which only got worse over time. Seth was never treated the same by his parents after the fact, which he assumed was due to them blaming him for his little brother’s injuries. However, as he learns more about himself, his parents, and what truly happened, he can humanize his parents and realize their neglect was most likely the result of grief, not hatred. His parents were people dealing with their own issues too. However, during his life, the only person able to absolve him of his guilt was Gudmund, his best friend and lover. But, when pictures of Seth and Gudmund kissing spread throughout the school, Gudmund’s homophobic parents send him away and Seth is left to deal with the backlash that ultimately leads to his death. This book deals with a coming-of-age story, and a coming-to-realization story in a beautiful way that I think can be relatable despite its dystopian context. I would not teach this book in my class, but I would recommend reading it to my students if the opportunity ever arrived.  

#literature #patrick ness

[storiesforallfandoms]

like i’m gonna lose you ~ machine gun kelly

part one

word count: 2276

request?: kind of?

description: after a painful reconnection, he decides to prove to her that he will do anything to get her back

pairing: machine gun kelly x female!reader

warnings: swearing

based (partially) on this song

masterlist

As he promised, the news of Colson and Megan’s “breakup” came a few days after our discussion. The news broke first on an few online tabloids, then Colson took to his social media to “confirm the rumors”.

“We’re just not right for one another,” he wrote in his post. “I still love Megan as a friend, and we’re going to stay in each other’s life. We both want our privacy during this time.”

Strangely enough, the conversation we had plus the actual confirmation that the fake relationship was over gave me a better sense of closure than our actual breakup had. I knew why Colson had ended things, and I knew that what he had with Megan wasn’t real and that it was over for good now. It was better than thinking he had suddenly stopped loving me after all those years.

Even with that closure, though, I stayed true to my word. Colson unblocked me and re-followed me on all his social media, and let me know he had unblocked my number from his phone by sending me a text. But I wouldn’t budge on trying to get back together with him. With the closure I had, I was starting to feel like I could move on from our breakup and be somewhat happy again.

It was hard to completely move on, though, when Colson was still trying to reach out to me constantly. He respected my boundaries and would stop whenever I asked him to, but it also didn’t take too long before he would message me again. Part of me wanted to block him back - it would’ve been beyond satisfying to reverse the roles on him and leave him blocked and heartbroken without explanation. But I was also enjoying getting to talk to him again, even if I knew it would lead to more heartbreak eventually.

The day I arrived home from work to find him sat on my doorstep, I felt something snap inside of me. The built up anger and sadness from the past year was finally bubbling over, and I had the exact person who had caused it all sat on my doorstep.

I got out of my car and slammed the door so hard I was shocked the windows didn’t shatter. “Colson, you can’t just fucking show up on my doorstep unannounced. This is borderline stalking now.”

“I want to talk like adults but you just keep brushing me off,” he retorted. “What else am I supposed to do?”

“Respect my fucking boundaries maybe? Realize that if I’m telling you that I don’t want to talk to you or see you that I actually fucking mean it?”

He stood from the doorstep and shoved his hands in his pocket. “I know that you mean it.”

I glared at him as I tried to shove past him to get through my door. He moved to stand in my way again, which just made me feel even more angry.

“If you know that I mean it,” I hissed, “then leave me the fuck alone Colson. You’ve hurt me enough, I don’t want to see you anymore.”

“I know I hurt you,” he said. “And I know that there’s nothing I can do to fix that, but please, let me try at least.”

“You did try, and I turned you down, remember? Now fuck off.”

I managed to push him out of my way in order to get into the house. He stood on my doorstep watching me for some time, and I knew that meant he wasn’t going away. No matter how hard I wanted to let him go, I knew my heart wasn’t going to let me. I sighed heavily and turned to face him.

“This is your last chance,” I told him. “You can come in and we can talk like adults, but just know that whatever decision I make after this is my final decision. No more of this harassing me and showing up on my doorstep. If I tell you to leave and you show up again I will call the cops on you, and I have a feeling that’s the last thing your manager wants.”

Colson nodded and followed me into my house.

I watched as he looked around, taking in the familiar place that he once called a second home. Very little had changed since we broke up, except for the fact that I got rid of all the pictures I had of the two of us. I was sure he had noticed that.

“Your place was always so much cozier than mine,” he commented.

“It’s cause it’s smaller,” I told him. “Your place is good for all the people you have over, but when it’s just you and Casie it’s far too big.”

“It is,” he agreed. “I would prefer to live in a place like this.”

“You could’ve,” I found myself muttering. Unfortunately, I said it a little too loud and Colson caught the comment. His face changed then, a sad wave washing over him.

“I should’ve,” he said. “God, I’m a fucking idiot.”

“We’ve been over that.”

He followed me to the kitchen and sat down at my table. Despite it only being early evening, I decided this moment called for a glass of wine. I poured myself one, and decided to mix Colson a drink with the liquor I knew he liked most.

“Saying I didn’t mean to hurt you is the stupidest thing ever,” he said after taking a giant gulp from the glass. “Of course I was going to hurt you. I broke up with you out of nowhere and then just ghosted you for a year. I guess...I thought that would be easier. I didn’t want you to think I didn’t love you enough to fight for you over my career.”

“I’m glad you realize how shitty and stupid that idea you had was. I wish you would’ve told me from the start what the plan was. I wouldn’t have been as hurt if you had.”

“I know...I know.”

I took a sip of my wine and immediately wished it was something stronger, something that would get me fucked up within minutes of drinking it.

I was mentally kicking myself for letting him back in again. That time at the coffee shop hurt enough and that was an accidental encounter we had. But to actually bring him into my home when I was finally starting to move on? I must really like to be hurt, because it seemed as though I was constantly trying to hurt myself lately.

“What would you have said if I had told you?” he asked. “Truthfully.”

I took a moment to think the situation over, to try and decide how I would’ve reacted if he had told me from the beginning instead of just breaking my heart.

“I still would’ve been hurt,” I admitted. “Not by you but by your manager. He knew about us, and even though we never went public with the relationship, my friends and family know. It wouldn’t exactly have been as easy to explain the whole publicity stunt relationship thing to any of them. I’d probably try to come up with a better solution, and if that didn’t work then...I’d just have to accept it.”

“Would you have stayed with me?”

I was shocked by his question. “Of course I would’ve. Everything between you and Megan was fake, there were no real feelings. Sure, seeing the pictures and everything would’ve hurt, but at the end of the day it would be me you were holding and kissing and actually loving. I probably could’ve been friends with Megan instead of hating her guts.”

Colson looked down at his glass, which was now almost empty. “I thought you would’ve broken up with me if I told you the truth.”

“You don’t know me that well, obviously,” I said. “Colson, there were ways around this. You didn’t have to break my heart.”

I could see that his eyes were starting to become more wet with tears. He was trying to hide them, but once his eyes starting welling up, his nose and his cheeks became flush and I could see his Adam’s apple bobbing as he tried to swallow his tears.

“I fucking hate him, man,” he finally said, his voice cracking slightly. “He’s supposed to help me with my career, not put my career first over my own life and my happiness. And I hate myself too for thinking the best way to deal with this was to break up with you completely.”

I sat back in my chair, unsure of what to do. I wanted to comfort him, of course, but I didn’t want him to think that crying was going to get him off the hook. I was glad he was feeling my pain, but fuck did I ever hate to see Colson cry.

“I hated you, too,” I admitted. “I slandered your name to anyone who would listen. Eventually my friends got sick of hearing the name Colson Baker come out of my mouth, but they all knew how hurt I was.”

“Do you still hate me?”

I shook my head. “No. I never truly hated you. I just wanted to hate you, because hating you was easier than still being in love with you and watching you fall in love with someone else.”

He started to reach for my hands, but pulled away just as quickly. He sat back in his own chair, putting as much space between the two of us as possible. “There could never be anyone else. You’re my one and only, (Y/N), you always have been.”

I let the silence wash over the two of us. I wanted to let his words hang over us, to try and digest them and decide how I felt in that moment.

“I had a dream while you were on tour,” I said after a moment. “Well, a nightmare really. We had fallen asleep watching TV on the couch, and when I woke up I couldn’t find you. You weren’t in the house, you weren’t answering your phone, none of your friends or Casie knew where you were. I began to panic. I went driving and drove the entirety of Cleveland looking for you, but I couldn’t find you. Around the end of the dream, I was screaming your name and I could hear you calling back to me, but the more I ran to find you the further away you got. I eventually woke up drenched in sweat and crying because I thought it was real.”

“That was the night you called me,” he said. “I remember I was having a bad night mentally and all I wanted was to have you on the tour bus with me, in my arms. Then you called, and I thought it was like...a sign or something. Something good.”

I couldn’t help but smile at this. “I never told you because I thought it was a stupid nightmare, and I didn’t wanna be one of those girlfriends that calls in need of constant reassurance about their relationship.”

“I would’ve reassured you no matter how many times you called me.”

I looked down at my own glass, nearly empty as well.

“Can we ever go back from this?” Colson asked. “Can we try to start over after what happened?”

“How do you start over after spending five years with someone?” I asked. “We were basically married, how do you just go back to square one after that?”

“Well...you try and gain that trust back, then you try and get things back to how they were before,” he explained. “I don’t expect it to happen overnight, but I can’t be without you anymore (Y/N). It’s driving me crazy, you drive me crazy.”

I felt tears stinging my eyes, and I realized in that moment that Colson was now freely crying in front of me. God, we were both just messes. I wished none of this had ever happened.

“You really hurt me,” I said, my voice just barley a whisper.

“I know,” he said. “I know I did. I don’t expect you to ever forget that. I don’t deserve to be forgiven, I know that.”

“I’ll never forget it,” I confirmed. “But knowing the reasoning makes it easier to forgive.”

When he reached for my hand this time, I met him halfway.

“It won’t be easy,” I told him. “You know that, right? I’m not going to come running into your arms again after a few nights. You have to work for this, Colson.”

“I know,” he repeated. “I’ll do anything, (Y/N).”

Despite my better judgement, I sat forward and looked into his eyes. God, I loved those beautiful blue eyes more than anything in this world.

“You can start by kissing me.”

He nearly jumped over the table at this. He took my face in his hands and pressed my lips against his. I had missed this feeling so much; the pure passion that came with every kiss. I put a hand behind his neck to keep him close. I never wanted to let go ever again.

He pulled away first and rested his forehead against mine. “I’m so sorry, (Y/N).”

“I don’t want to hear those words out of your mouth ever again,” I told him. “We’re forgetting this, remember?”

He smiled. “Okay, then how about these words: I love you.”

I couldn’t help but smile back. The magic words I had longed to hear for so long, they sounded so right coming from his lips. “I love you, too.”

#machine gun kelly #machine gun kelly imagine #machine gun kelly x reader #colson baker #colson baker imagine #colson baker x reader #imagine #one shot #request #fanfiction #fanfic #fandom #like i'm gonna lose you #meghan trainor

[kayleezra]

Forever and a Day // (Rafael Barba x Reader)

Warnings; none

Word Count; 1147

Summary; fem!reader x Rafael Barba.
You and Rafael have been working from home due to the virus and Rafael expresses his love and gratitude.

COVID-19 has brought a cloud of doom over the world and flipped everything upside down. You think it’s safe to say that there are very few positives about the virus; but, with you and Rafael having to work from home you’ve been able to spend more time with him. With that being said, Rafael is a workaholic and with work being at his disposal he’s been overdoing it. You’ve had to pull him away from the paperwork and computer to do literally anything else. For you, the opposite has been the case. You’ve found work easier at home and been able to make more time for yourself and haven’t been so exhausted all the time. You’ve been able to cook home-cooked meals with fresh ingredients from the local grocer, which Rafael has continuously expressed gratitude and love for. You’ve found more time for cleaning around the apartment, laundry, and reading.

It’s 6:30 pm and you’ve finished cooking dinner, tonight’s meal is paella. You didn’t set the table, tonight’s plan is to enjoy some mindless television while enjoying dinner. The apartment is dead quiet and you know Rafael is working, which is fine… the only problem is that it’s Saturday. It’s the weekend and Rafael has worked earlier and later than necessary all week. He just doesn’t know when to stop and when his work is within arms reach he can’t control himself. You make your way to his office.

“Raaaffffiii… it’s 6:30 and dinner is ready.”

Rafaels back is towards you and he’s working away, without looking back at you he says; “I’ve just got to finish some papers up cariña, I’ll be out in a minute.”

You lean on the door frame and cross your arms.

“Which would be fine if it wasn’t 6:30 on a Saturday.”

Rafael swivels his chair around and stares at you with his brows furrowed.

“It’s Friday mi amor.”

“No… yesterday was Friday. I know because I worked and it was payday for me. Every second Friday, which was yesterday.”

“Dios mio! Lo siento cariña.”

Rafael quickly gets up from his chair and embraces you in his arms which you quickly accept and return. You know he’s stressed and that whenever he sees his work he feels obligated to get it done and lets himself over do it. You don’t blame him at all, you know when you’re relaxing and see your future work you feel bad for allowing yourself downtime.

“It’s fine Rafi, just come eat and relax.”

He gives you a quick but loving kiss and stays close when he pulls away ever so slightly.

“It’s not fine. You’ve worked so hard lately with your own work and around the apartment and keeping me sane, the least I could do is spend the weekends with you.”, you give him a loving smile.

“You know how much I love you right?”, he asks.

“I do. And I love you twice as much.”

“I don’t think that’s possible.”

You giggle and make your way to the kitchen in each other’s arms.

The two of you are sprawled out on the couch with your dishes on the coffee table after eating too much food. Mindless television plays and you let the peace and calm take over your mind and body. You’re unaware that Rafael is also caught up in the sight in front of him, but that sight is you. He loved you before this quarantine and didn’t think things could be any better. You’re understanding of his work habits and how exhausted he can be. You always do your best to make things easier on him no matter how big or small. When quarantine first started he was afraid that you’d get tired of him and his work. That you’d realize you bit off more than you could chew. The exact opposite happened, you were happy to be with him even if the two of you were working separately. You were able to have breakfast, lunch and dinner together. He couldn’t believe how lucky he was to have found you and keep you in his life. There were a handful of moments that Rafael would have sworn he was dreaming.

Once, after a particularly busy day, he left his office to see you in the kitchen. You were in sweats and an oversized t-shirt, which had become the norm, and tied your hair up so it was out of the way. You were playing your latest playlist and humming and nodding along. At that moment, Rafael got a glimpse at a possible domestic future with you, where you were only his and he was only yours, forever.

One morning he woke up with you in his arms, which was slightly odd because the two of you often rolled out of each other’s arms during the night. It took him a couple of seconds to realize you were awake, you had chosen to return and stay in his arms. Your head rested upon his left arm while the other was pulled across his midsection to you, which you held and massaged. You focused your attention on the tendons of his thumb and index finger, the fingers that were constantly holding a pen and scribbling profusely. He couldn’t believe how genuine and sincere the moment had been. He truly saw how much you loved him, even when he wasn’t looking.

“C’mere cariña.”, Rafael says while motioning you over with his hand.

You gladly obliged and joined him at his side; his arm snaked around your shoulders and you took his other hand in yours. You mindlessly play with his hand and fingers, finding comfort in the mindless action that reminds you this is real and he is here. A comfortable silence takes over the room once again but it doesn’t last long, soon Rafael calmly expresses himself.

“I’m want to marry you.”

Your heart stops and you swear you’ve imagined those words. Still, you look back to him with your brows furrowed; “what?”.

“I want to marry you. I’ve wanted you to be my forever for a long time now and was scared to make it legal or official. But, these past few weeks have been bliss and I want this. I want you, forever. I love you and need you to know where I see and want us to go.”

“Rafi. I-I have no words. I love you too and would love nothing more than to be yours forever and tell the world that I’m Mrs Barba.”

Rafael burst out in the biggest smile you’ve ever seen, you are quick to lean in and kiss him slow and passionately.

“Mrs Barba, I like the sound of that. Perhaps I should get on one knee now.”

You giggle, “You can call me Mrs Barba because I was yours the day we met. I’ll love you forever and a day, Rafael.”.

#rafael barba #rafael barba x reader #rafael barba x you #raúl esparza

[loverdrew]

Just A Little Longer | s.r

(not my gif)

Synopsis: A day out on the field doesn’t go as planned, and Y/N is thrown into am ambulance to Grey Sloan Memorial Hospital before anyone can help. 

A Grey’s Anatomy x Criminal Minds crossover.

Warnings: none (?)

There was a ringing in the air louder than the one you hear everyday. I felt my breathing hinder. My eyes can only open so wide, enough to see the light, but once by my side, could see only a dark substance quickly oozing out of my body. As I came to, I could tell it was getting harder and harder to breathe, a sharp pain with every inhale and exhale. Upon instinct, I checked my fingers for mobility, feeling that they could move slightly. At least this means I am not paralyzed in my upper body. There was no other noise for a few more minutes, just a slight rustling of trees and the dirt road beneath me. I don’t even remember the initial shot being taken, whether it was from me or him. All I remember is instantly falling to the floor once I arrived on the scene. I just laid in my own blood, the realization that no one may be coming for me.

“Y/N! Y/N! Wake up!” I could faintly hear from what felt like a mile away. My brain perked at the voice, definitively Morgan, but my body would not react. I tried with every might to move my limbs once again but alas, nothing. It was if my brain was screaming and sending pulses to my muscles but it just refused to move. I started to feel hands all over me, lifting me and placing me on what I could imagine was a gurney, as it moved. My sense of hearing coming in full force, beginning to hear people talking and shuffling. Hotch and Morgan were asking where I was being transported to and Emily and JJ consoling someone else who I could hear was practically sobbing. 

“They’re going to take care of her, c’mon let’s just go follow them now!” Emily yelled to everyone. But that distressed someone fought back.

“No! She’s not even moving! They’re intubating her! Emily she’s dying!” 

Spencer....? 

“Reid, you want to help her? Get out of here and go to the hospital.” Hotch firmly said, I could even tell he probably put his hands on Reid, as the sound of prominent footsteps were halted. And the next thing I heard was doors closing, and the sirens blaring.

Once we had arrived at the hospital, I heard a woman’s voice that sounded very strong, like she was in charge.

“What do we got?” She asked.

“GW to the left ribcage, she’s lost a lot of blood, almost 2 pints. We’ve been intubating her since we got to the scene but Bailey, it doesn’t look too good. Possible head contusion when she hit the floor as well.” The EMT stated.

“Alright I’ll page Shepard and Hunt immediately. Out of the way everybody! FBI agent coming through!” And my gurney started moving even faster, winding down a short hallway into a room where I could hear many doctors coming to look at my wounds. I felt absolutely helpless, not being able to communicate what hurts for me. What if they miss something? What if they can’t help me in time? The EMT said I lost a lot of blood, what if it’s too much to come back from?

“Hang 2 units of O neg now!” A man with a deep voice yelled out. I could feel big, callus hands turning me on my back, and the next thing I knew a needle was being shoved in my arm and a warm sensation filling my arm. 

“Owen she needs to go up to CT now or she’s not going to make it.” A woman with a softer voice spoke next to the man.

“Amelia she needs this wound patched first or she’ll bleed out and then she won’t even have a chance in CT.” He raised his voice at her, kind of like how Hotch can be sometimes.

“Let me see, I can patch quickly if everyone gives me space. Looks like the bullet left through the back as well.” This time it was another man with a softer voice than the first, and instantly felt his delicate hands holding onto my ribs, feeling a metal substance touching my skin. By my analysis, he’s most likely a plastics surgeon. Only a man in plastics has such delicate touch.

“Well hurry Jackson she’s got about 10 minutes before that brain contusion completely debilitates her and she’ll be in a coma.”

“Yea I got it.” He said nonchalant.

The sounds of beeping and shuffling were quickly interrupted by deep screams, of which belonged to the lanky pretty boy. My heart rate instantly got faster the second his voice entered the room.

“Sir, sir who are you?” The plastics guy asked urgently.

“I-I’m her, her uh- I’m just a friend, please let me be next to her.” He pleaded, rasp in his voice. I can tell he had been crying the whole ride over.

“Okay, sir you’re gonna have to wait with everybody else, she’s in a lot of distress and she’s lost a lot of blood. We’re doing everything we can for her.” Almost on cue, my heart monitor started spazzing. The loud beeping indicating I’m going into cardiac failure. 

“She’s in V-fib, get the defibrillator now!” The man with the lower voice yelled. I felt the clothing on my body being ripped open, a few buttons popping and flying off. The patches were on and in a few seconds, I felt the shock and I could feel it vibrate every vessel inside me. They cleared a second a time, my heart rate returning to normal.

“Okay Jackson you’re gonna have to finish her later she needs a head scan now.” The women voiced, and immediately I could feel the gurney being whisked and into an elevator, going up to the CT room.

Being in the big machine and hearing the slight “ZZZ” sound felt like the first time of peace since my brain fully woke up. For a few hours now I was being poked and prodded, not even getting a chance to hear my own thoughts. This was the only time I got to really savor whatever life I had left, to really hear and feel the people I love around me, and to prepare for what could happen. It felt inevitable to try and escape death, it was a part of my job. And the one regret I’d have is not being the real me with the person I loved most in this world. That tall, pretty, incredible genius was the love of my life for the past 3 years I’ve been with the BAU, and he was everything and more I could’ve ever dreamed of and better. I could physically feel my heart aching at the way his voice cracked yelling for me. I wished nothing more than to look him straight in the eye and hold his hands, telling him I’ll be okay. The way he stuttered when he said friend, so unsure. We had kissed just a few days ago, after a long day of work he came by my hotel room and finally expressed his feelings after so long. The fireworks we shared were something out of a book. The way his hands fit around my face, holding me so close and so softly as if I were glass and he was afraid to break it. We hadn’t talked about it since, but we figured we had more time. But now I realize time is never guaranteed. 

Within 30 minutes I was in a regular room, the plastics man working on sowing back up my wounds. “You, Ms.Y/N are one of the luckiest gunshot victims I’ve seen; no severe tears. Which means this just needs a quick stitch and you’ll be all set.” He said softly to me, I could feel a smile on his face as he spoke.

I heard another person walk into the room, footsteps almost so quiet. 

“H-How, how is she Dr.?” He was shaking.

“The CT showed some swelling but no internal bleeding. We’re going to keep her here overnight but I’m sorry, I don’t know if and when she’ll wake up. That’s all up to her.” The women sadly spoke, unsure of even her own diagnosis.

I heard Spencer start to cry again, a loud puff coming from deep in his chest.

“Dr. Reid, could you please sit with me.” The two of them stepped to sit in the 2 seats next to my bed.

“I know what it feels like to be in a field of study where, you know everything there is to know. And I also know what it feels like to be completely out of control in that field, when you know what to do, but you can’t even do it.” She sighed. “I am one of the best neurosurgeons in the country, I know almost everything...but yet I had a brother who died of a brain injury. I could’ve been there to help him but I couldn’t do a damn thing. I know what this feels like.” Reid started crying harder, his cries muffled by his own hands. He was trying so hard not to let the sounds leak from the room, but it did and it made my bones stand still.

“I had a mentor who was in a coma, and even though I’m in plastics”- (told y’all) -”there was still nothing I could do for him. We just had to wait. He was one of my greatest friends, one of the best people you’d ever meet, so loved. The love of his life died in front of his eyes and I think most of us knew he’d be going next, to be with her. Life was too painful without her. Do you love this girl right here?” Spencers respond came almost immediately.

“More than anybody or anything.”

“Then wait, just a little longer. If she loves you like you love her she’s going to fight to wake up and be alive.” Both of the doctors walked out, leaving me and my lover boy.

His veiny hands grabbed onto mine, rubbing softly at my knuckles.

“I’m gonna do what he said, just wait a little longer. But please Y/N, if you can hear me, come back to me.” He cried into my hand, the tears coating it.

As if the Gods granted it themselves, I moved my eyelids open. Very slowly, and it hurt to do so, but they opened. Spencer sensed movement, and his head instantly came up holding on tighter to my hand. A weak smile placed on my face as my tired eyes loving locked with his.

“Waiting for me?” 

#spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid masterlist #spencer reid fanfiction #matthew gray gubler imagine

[mesozoic-system]

Bakugou Katsuki is not as bad as he seems.

Okay, fine. That's a lie. Bakugou is a loud and obnoxious asshole with little to no character development and will snap at anyone who breathes on him the wrong way.

Now that that's out of the way, let's move on to why he's like that.

You all know what PTSD is, yeah? If not, it stands for "Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder". It's something that causes panic attacks, unnecessary aggression, trust issues, nightmares, anxiety, depression, and more. People will develop it after a traumatic experience. It takes years of therapy to recover... actually, most people never recover from it.

Fun fact: Katsuki canonically has PTSD. It's confirmed, and you know what? After everything he's been through, it's not much of a surprise. He's been through one tragedy after another and never seems to get a break.

When we first met Bakugou Mitsuki (Katsuki's mother) in chapter #96, we instantly realized how aggressive she was. I mean come on! She talked smack right in front of him and his teachers- in front of All Might who she knew her son was very fond of. Katsuki may be irritable, but to have your own mother backhand you in front of your own role model is a little much.

Later on in chapter #165 during the Provisual License Exams, we get a little more information that only points towards more abuse- and this time it's not so verbal.

Most people paid no real attention nor gave it a second thought in these panels, but remember when Katsuki suggested to use violence against the kids? Of course, you'd look at it and wave it off as "normal Bakugou behavior", but what he says next took me by surprise:

That's right. He was raised that way.

Which means either Mitsuki or Masaru (or both) had struck him in some way multiple times as he was growing up, and I doubt it was Masaru.

"Spoiled" my ass. He might have a strong quirk, but people don't turn into little monsters just by being praised. It'll definely boost his confidence, but not dramatically. This could also explain his aggression toward Midoriya. He realized how helpless he was and had power over someone else for once. But that's just a theory.

Okay, let's fast forward a bit. He's finishing up his third year of Middle School and is preparing for the UA entrance exams. He's pushed away his childhood friend to follow his own dreams and tells him to jump off the roof.

Literally.

And then he walks out the door only to regret it much, much, muuuch later in the series- y'know. The "character development" I was talking about.

Next time we see him though, he gets what he deserves.

One panel he's tramping through an alley with his friends, and the next, he's being swallowed alive by the most perverted-looking slime monster I've ever laid my eyes on.

While Izuku's dreams are being crushed by his own hero, Katsuki is fighting for his life in the middle of town. He's struggling, but all he could do was look back at all the dozens of fearful eyes...

Right there. Right now. Look at him:

He's terrified. He's humiliated and afraid and hurt and despite all of the heroes that were there, none of them had even attempted to save him.

And this is where it really starts. This is where it all begins. Next thing we know, Izuku's running straight for him... The boy Katsuki's bullied almost all of his life is risking his own in order to save him.

You know the story from there; All Might trains Izuku to withhold his power, they get accepted into UA, and then comes the Sports Festival.

Katsuki's already made up his mind: he's gonna win. He's willing to give everything he has to show the country what he's made of, and this may be his only chance to make up for the mishap several months ago. And Monoma, being a professional at making things worse by opening his mouth, rubs salt in the wound.

It was pretty easy to predict Katsuki's reaction: pissed off and more than ready to prove him wrong. He does, but it cost him his "first place" during the Calvary Battle. But that's okay 'cuz it's not over yet!

Welcome to the next and last stage of the festival: The Battle Tournament, where all the kids get to beat the shit out of each other until only one remains.

Turns out, Katsuki does win. It was a foolproof plan: get Todoroki to go all out on him so he can make a final impression before the end of the day. But it was obvious that Shouto was still unsure of himself, so Katsuki did what he did best:

He had to piss him off.

But instead of getting angry and bursting into flames like he had planned, Shouto threw away the battle at the last second, and everything Katsuki had worked for with it.

No shit he's gonna be upset! He worked his ass off to get where he was, and the whole point was to leave himself a footprint! His entire life had been dedicated to that moment, and it faded away right in front of him.

Midnight put him to sleep and he woke up and threw a temper tantrum.

Now this is was UA did wrong:

Why would you do that?! They were all aware of what happened to him only a few months ago, he obviously hasn't properly recovered from it, and they restrain him in front of thousands of people. They cover his mouth and gag him, lock his hands in a tiny metal box and expect him not to go insane. Helloooo?! Wake up! He's just a kid!

Several months go by and now it's time for camp. Katsuki is tired. They all are. It's been a long day of training and training and training, and suddenly villains come out of nowhere, and nobody is prepared. And who shows up? The League of Villains, and they're after certain students...

Tokoyami escapes safely, but Katsuki isn't so lucky.

Just think about that for a second. When we see Shigaraki holding a picture of him, it's the one where UA tied him up. He knows what this child has gone through and he pities him. To be honest, I think the LoV treated him much better than anyone ever has (except maybe Kirishima). They're hesitant, but they treat him with kindness. They didn't just want him for his quirk. They saw what the heroes did to him and wanted to help him get the revenge he deserved.

But when All Might showed up (more like "burst through the wall like the Cool Aid man"), Katsuki is instantly teleported in the strangest way possible... and the most traumatizing.

He chokes out this weird slime-like substance that devours him within seconds. Thankfully it only last that long, but then again, the Sludge Incident, remember?

Yeah, bet that brings back some memories.

But what must have hurt him the most was All Might's downfall and early retirement. He said it himself:

After several chapters, he finally burst. He's been holding all the pain inside of him until it bubbled over and he couldn't take it anymore. So he went to the only person he could- the person he hated and yet trusted the most.

Maybe the Class 1A concert helped him in a way. It seemed like it brought him down and maybe even relaxed him a little. And something incredible happens. Something we haven't seen from him at all until now...

(From here, I'll try to keep it short to avoid as many manga spoilers as I can. That and I'm tired...)

He began to change; started to support Izuku... in his own twisted way, of course. As chapters went by, he started to open up little by little. He admitted what he had done to Izuku in middle school to All Might, which had brought him some peace of mind. It wasn't quite the apology we had hoped for, but I guess it'll do.

And during the war, he made the greatest sacrifice, finally unlocking his quirk's full potential. Despite being unable to move, he used his quirk to throw himself in front of Izuku without thinking, taking a blow to his stomach. To his stomach.

He was impaled.

Holy shit.

Last time someone had been impaled was Nighteye, and he died from his wounds.

But Katsuki somehow managed to survive... And woke up ready to beat Izuku's ass if he didn't wake up.

Anyway, that's all I have to say (so far). However, I'm excited for Season 5 of the anime series! Can't wait to see our new story animated! I mean, I've been watching the episodes as they come out, but still.

-Blightcon

#my hero academia #boku no hero academia #bakugou katsuki #kacchan #midoriya izuku #deku #all might #bakugou mitsuki #bakugou masaru #todoroki shouto #Utsushimi Camie #tokoyami fumikage #the thoughtbox

[side-shawty]

Burn XIV (Stark!Reader)

XIV: Family Business

Fandom: Marvel (MCU)

Type: series

Prompt/Summary: Family is not just blood.

Pairing(s): Peter Parker x Stark!reader, Tony Stark x daughter!reader

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

•

The next morning you somehow found yourself a tangle of arms and legs with Peter. 

After the initial wariness of your surroundings faded you were still finding it hard to believe this was all real you relaxed into him again. You pushed your face into his chest and breathed in his calming scent as his strong arms unconsciously tightened around you. 

Your eyes slipped closed again and you were almost asleep again when the light sliding of the door opening could be heard. 

You hoped they’d go away once they saw you were both asleep but there was no such peace with the Avengers.

“Aww look at how cute they are. You owe me five bucks Sam,” Natasha spoke.

“No you owe me, I said they’d be attached at the hip within 12 hours and you said 20,” you could practically hear the smirk in his voice.

“Okay, but I said 8 so, both of you pay up,” Bucky interrupted and it took everything in you not to look at them and roll your eyes. 

You could hear the exchange of money and Bucky’s over-enthused “Thank you,” in reply.

Peter groaned beside you and held you closer, “You guys are way too loud,” he told them, eyes still closed.

“And you’re way too stingy, can’t we see her too?” Nat said and you giggled a little at that, effectively blowing your cover.

“She’s up!” Sam said and you and Peter both sat up, rubbing at your eyes and stretching.

“She wants to go back to sleep,” you told them and they laughed lightly.

“No time for that. Time for hugs,” Nat said, coming to your side of the bed. 

Meanwhile, Peter got out of the bed and told you he’d be back with breakfast before kissing your cheek. The simple action made you giddy.

“Bleh,” Bucky fake gagged as Peter left and he and sam sat in his now vacant spot.

You hugged each of them tight, you hadn’t realized how much you missed everyone. 

“So lover boy was here all night, huh?” Sam asked wiggling his eyebrows as if he didn’t know the answer.

“Yes he was, we talked and we slept and I will take no more questions,” you crossed your arms over your chest. 

“That better be it,” Bucky said but there was no threat in his voice that warranted concern.

“Gosh, you’re really showing your age today aren’t you Buck?” Nat teased before turning to you. “Earlier he asked me what an AirPod was,” she laughed and you laughed with her.

“And here I thought you were getting the hang of this new fangled century,” you told him.

“Listen I’m trying okay, everything is so fancy for no reason,” he sulked and you laughed again.

“Seriously though kid, how are you?” Sam questioned and they all looked at you expectantly.

“In one piece,” you said honestly. “Some scrapes and bruises and a cut on the back of my neck that’ll probably scar but I’m alive,” you smiled.

“Was it a shock device?” Bucky asked darkly.

You hesitated before answering, “Yeah.”

Bucky’s metal arm flexed as he balled his hand into a fist, “I’ll fucking kill those HYDRA assholes one day.”

You placed a hand on top of his fist, “Hey,” he looked up at you, “I’m alright. Thanks to all of you I’m here and breathing. I love you guys.” 

Before you knew it they pulled you into a hug and you held back tears giving you their own declarations of love. When Peter came back in with food they all decided to let you eat in peace with your boyfriend. Peter told you the doctors would be here around one and in the meantime, you’d probably get several visitors. 

All too soon, he had to leave for the city, there was only so much school he could avoid without the possibility of not graduating on time. He left with a promise returning that evening and a soft kiss on your lips. 

Before anyone new came in you asked FRIDAY to call your mom downstairs. She helped you shower and change into sweats and one of Peter’s shirts with a wink. She told you that she would have stayed longer but Morgan would be waking up for the day soon. 

Your dad stopped by for a little after she left and after Sam and Bucky blew something up he also had to leave.

The next ones to walk through the door were Steve and Rhodey.

“Well if it isn’t two of my favorite soldiers,” you smiled as they walked in.

“As long as I’m the number one favorite I accept,” Rhodey said before gathering you into his arms for a tight hug.

When he let go Steve was next, “Keep dreaming Rhodes.” 

“Well I would tell you who my favorite was if I thought it wouldn’t hurt your feelings,” you told them as they had taken the same positions as everyone else and sat on either side of you.

“C’mon now Y/N you wouldn’t want to give the old man a heart attack.”

Steve rolled his eyes.

“Anyways, how are you Y/N?” Steve asked.

“Good, healing, y’know? Seems like it’ll be a long process but I feel better than I did when I first woke up last night.”

“I’m glad to hear it, we’re only going up from here.”

“Definitely, by the way, I haven’t seen Thor, Clint, or Bruce today.”

“Thor is off-world, apparently whatever HYDRA used to brainwash Harley is similar to the mind stone so he’s trying to get it out ahead of it,” Steve told you.

“Clint had to run home, Laura is going to give birth soon and Bruce should be by later with your other doctors,” Rhodey finished.

“Ah got it. I cant wait for little Y/N to be born,” you said.

“Yeah because Barton is definitely gonna want to name is kid after the girl who put retractable grates in the vents to mess with him,” Rhodey rolled his eyes.

“Well he shouldn’t have tried to prank me on my own turf.”

“Everywhere is your turf,” Steve said.

You grinned, “Exactly.”

Steve hesitated before speaking again and his face became solemn, “Listen I’m sorry that I couldn’t do more for you that night.”

“So am I, we’re family, I should have protected you,” Rhodey added. They both let their heads hang low.

You took one of each of their hands into you, “You guys, look at me,” they obeyed, “I’m so incredibly happy right now you have no idea. A lot went wrong but I’m okay, even if I do have to spend a couple extra days in here.”

They both smiled at you and things felt okay again. They stayed for a little while longer leaving you with words of encouragement before you were once again left alone.

However, you weren’t suffocating the way you had been at HYDRA. You asked FRIDAY to project the water by the compound onto the right wall, it felt like you could finally release all the tension in your body.

Before you knew it your eyes slipped closed and you fell asleep.

——

You were awakened again by the sound of the door opening, this time Bruce and your dad walked in with —

“Well this is quite the surprise,” you said smiling.

“How could I not visit my favorite fire-wielding hero,” he spoke and made his way over to bring you into a tight hug.

Bruce hugged you next with a smile and then went over to one of the machines you had unhooked when you first woke up. Your dad gave you a kiss on the forehead and then stood beside the other scientist.

“To what do I owe the pleasure Doctor Strange?” You asked.

“You know me,” He took a seat next to you on the bed, “I love popping in and out but after I heard what happen I made sure your dad kept me in the loop. I know magic stuff keeps me busy but I am still your Godfather,” he told you.

“Mystical Godfather,” Tony threw in, “A totally made up title.”

Strange rolled his eyes and silently mocked your dad, “Still a title.”

“Debatable.”

You laughed lightly at their childishness.

“In all seriousness though, your dad ordered a full workup. He said your flames turned purple and wanted to make sure it didn’t damage your body in a non-tradition sense,” he told you and you nodded.

“So I only get a visit if my life at risk?” You asked overdramatically, throwing a hand to your forehead, “You wound me.”

“Haha, very funny. Now sit up straight while I work my … magic,” he said.

“Booo, your jokes have gotten worse since Christine got pregnant,” However, you sat up straight as he stood.

Strange was quick to begin in a flash of warm light symbols surrounded you, several of them had even went in and out of your body. 

After a few minutes, he was finished and the light and symbols faded away. His face was littered with mixed emotions.

“What is it?” You asked, concerned.

“Are you alright?” Strange asked and the question grabbed the attention of Bruce and Tony.

You were confused, “I mean aside from some injuries that might scar I feel fine.”

“Tired? Weak? Foggy mind?” Strange asked.

“Barely, it was bad when I first woke up though. What does that have to do with anything?”

“Part of what a ‘full workup’ is is looking into your soul or aura and it seems like whatever happened when you released those purple flames caused a hole,” Strange explained. 

The room was silent. All three men looked at you anxiously as you sat in shock, you weren’t sure what to say.

“So a piece of he is just poof! Gone?” Tony asked, bewildered at the idea.

“It’s a small piece but essentially, yes. There’s a chance it may come back over time but things like this are usually done only in dire situations of stress or emotional turmoil.”

“Well my situation checks all the boxes,” you said quietly to yourself.

It was then that tour father decided to move from his spot beside Bruce and wrap an arm around your shoulders. 

“Are you alright?” He asked.

“I think so, this is just a lot to process.”

He nodded and the room fell into silence once again.

“Well on the bright side,” Bruce spoke up, “It seems the damage Hydra did to your powers was temporary. If your readings are correct, you should be at 100% in no time,” he finished with a comforting smile.

“Thanks, Bruce. That actually does make me feel a little better,” you smiled with him.

After that Bruce ran a couple more tests and then the three men were gone again. However, your father did leave you your phone which you were beyond grateful for. You were playing a random game on it when Dr. Evans came to give you a quick check-up and update before leaving. 

You had a few more hours of peace before your next visitor decided to show their face, it had to be well after sunset by now. 

There were two knocks on your door and you replied for them to come in. You locked your phone and placed it on your bed as he entered and for some reason seeing him made you lose your breath.

“Harley,” you whispered.

•

NEXT CHAPTER

#burn fic #peter parker x reader #peter parker x stark!reader #tony stark x daughter!reader #avengers x reader #peter parker x black!reader #peter parker x woc #avengers x platonic reader #avengers x black!reader #tony stark x pepper potts #morgan stark x sister!reader #peter parker #tony stark #morgan stark #pepper potts #avengers #avengers au #marvel imagine #marvel series #marvel imagine series

[officialgomezaddams]

Morality

I honestly dk what this is but its set in AOTC kinda want to turn this into a little series $wag also shout out to my fellow nihilists this is for you bb

Palpatine had always kept watchful over her but never loomed. It would have been too obvious. When he met Anakin, it was like a breath of fresh air, a realization that this little boy was destined to restore the balance in the force and his daughter, Y/n, would be the one to defeat him. He had begun the idea of his daughter once he joined the Darkside, already knowing that the possibility to be overthrown was something he couldn’t let happen. The dark energy, the power, was simply too much to let go of. The moment he saw the nine-year-old boy, the lord was happy to know that the power would stay on the dark side. 

Dooku trained Y/n as a padawan, and when he left the order, he took Y/n with him, kidnapping her into the night. When she asked why they were leaving the temple as he dragged her into a ship, he simply replied, “Sometimes when politicians can’t do their job, we must do something ourselves.” Over the years together, he would open up more, telling Y/n about the death of Qui-Gon and every step that drove him to leave. 

“The Jedi rely on selflessness. To strip one’s ability to have connection and emotion. They lose themselves in conformity. We need to take control of the life we’re given. Emotion, passion, drive. Those are how we will be victorious. Corrupt politicians pull the Jedi around like kites on strings. You can not try and save a house that its lousy foundation has torn down. Tear it down and build a new one.” 

It was her job to ensure just that, a new foundation set within the heart of the Darkside. Relentless training to mentally and physically defeat the chosen one. Palpatine would often tell her that her destiny was a part of the Sith Two, that the strongest one of the two would survive, and it was to be her. Darth Sidious found comfort that his creation would take over the Darkside once she had killed him and the Count. The most decisive Jedi ruling on the side of the night. 

She didn’t quite understand it, but to stay on the Darkside made the most sense to her. It wasn’t about power. It was the lifestyle. Why be selfless if there was no personal gain? Why spend a life living for something else? Shouldn’t one live their life for themselves? Everyone, she determined, had to want something. As long as she did what she wanted, it was enough. It had to be. Because without drive and her idea of what was truly right and wrong, how would she get anything done? 

She rationed that it all didn’t matter. She would never know who was right because, in her mind, the concept of being right varied too much. The Jedi thought they were right, the sith thought they were right, the politicians who voted against their people’s needs thought they were right. She had to suffer through Palpatine’s long lectures about how awful the senate was and now terrible the Jedi Order is. But who was to say he was right? That was only his opinion. Who was to say the Jedi were right because a frog that was almost nine hundred years old said so? 

“I’m just…” Anakin went on, pulling a piece of grass out of the ground. “I mean, I don’t know. Padmè is beautiful and wonderful. She’s everything that could make someone perfect: marriage, it’s so permanent. I know I’m supposed to be excited, which I am, of course. But what if we were not supposed to be together.” 

His speech made her frown. “Sometimes, it’s better just to dive in and see where you land.” She offered. The dreams with Anakin were a peaceful escape to a Jedi’s life. Neither knew why their dreams brought them together or what they even meant. Neither of them bothered, living the same training life on opposite sides. A sweet dream was the perfect reward. “And who are you going to be with then, me?” She teased back. 

The setting of the dreams was in the meadows of Naboo. The pastel-colored flowers stood dim in the moonlight from the starry night above. Anakin laid with his head in her lap as they talked about their personal lives, never going in too deep about what their destinies were. Anakin no longer had the pressure of being the chosen one, and Y/n never had to admit she would kill the chosen one. 

“I wish,” Anakin admitted, now looking up at her. “I want so bad to meet you Y/n, not just in my dreams but in real life. If I could have you by my side, all of this would be less confusing. I’ve fallen in love with you, a woman in my dreams. Why can’t you be in my reality?”

“Don’t say that,” She whispered. Whenever Anakin talked about his little girl-thing, Y/n wasn’t even one hundred percent sure what their relationship was, and she always felt a slight nic in her heart. Y/n knew that she was in love with Anakin, but to hear about another woman making him the happiest he’s been in the majority of the years that she knew him, that it wasn’t her, the one sneaking in kisses with him in the shadows. It brought out an ugly feeling of jealousy and possessiveness to Y/n that she didn’t know she had. 

“I promise, one day, I’ll be with you in all the ways you want.” She spoke with a smile. She would often daydream about what life would be like to meet him real-time. They would run up to each other and crush each other in a hug. She imagined it all.

“Tell me about it,” Anakin edged on, closing his eyes as if it was going to play out in his head.

“Well, I want to go somewhere like D’Qar, somewhere quiet where I won’t have to worry about neighbors or anyone I don’t want finding me. Or us, because you’re coming with me no matter what your soon-to-be wife says,” You teased, making him laugh. “Maybe- Sometimes in my dreams, there’s no Padmè, it’s just us, and every so often there are kids, but it’s just us. Tucked away where we can be together, and nothing can bother us or stop us from being together.”

The silence that sat in between them began to scare Y/n, “Is that a future you would want with me?”

His eyes met hers, a peaceful moment in the chaos of their lives. He reached up to tuck a strand of hair that fell in front of her face, behind her ear. “If I were able to, I would.”

“And why can’t you? Why can’t you have the things you want, Anakin? Is it wrong to be happy?” 

Waking up from the dreams was always the most challenging part, the reality of it not being a reality. Y/n woke up already in a bad mood, mentally kicking herself for pushing too far in. Of course, he wouldn’t want to. He’s getting married to someone else. You’re too late. It had always been Y/n’s plan to end up with Anakin in some way or another. From the first dream to now, she decided to leave the Sith once she had killed the chosen one. Somedays, she would pace around, impatiently waiting for whoever held the title to cross her path so she could just finish the job and take the next ship to wherever Anakin was. 

She tore the necklace he had given her off her neck, clutching the carven japor snippet in her hand with a grip so hard she could have cracked it if it wasn’t made out of stone. She was squeezing her eyes shut, trying not to cry. Anakin had given Y/n the good luck charm when they were at the age of thirteen. Y/n was upset that once everything was over that he may not want to be with her, the reputation of her choices would drive him away. 

“Well, you can’t be that bad,” He commented, pulling out the carved stone from his pocket and shyly handing it to her. “I made this for you,” Anakin explained as she put it around her neck, “So that when good things happen, you can think of me. It’ll be my way of keeping you safe, and in return, one day, you will come to me safely.”

She opened her eyes and stared at the carvings, remembering how Anakin said he made it just for her, so she better not lose it. Y/n wanted to break it, throw it away, and never see Anakin again. She wanted more than just the dreams. She wanted the sunsets and the early morning and the rainy days - all of it. Maybe they were wrong, they weren’t supposed to meet, and it was just a nice dream. 

She couldn’t do that. She at least owes him a simple greeting, and then she can get rid of him. Putting the necklace back on and wiping her face to make sure she wasn’t crying, Y/n walked out of the room, ready for whatever the sith wanted her to do. 

“Just be patient,” Her master told her as they waited outside the still open ship. Geonosis was overrun with battle, the sith fighting tooth and bone to claim the planet as its capital, the major droid foundries, and its Mandalorians. Nothing could be more perfect for the sith. The two force signatures caught Y/n’s attention. Looking up at Dooku, she told him, “Well, let’s make it quick then.” 

“The chosen one will be here,” he whispered back. “I’ll leave that one to you.”

“You’re gonna pay for all the Jedi you killed, Dooku,” A familiar voice said as you both turned around in unison. “Y/N?” A pit dropped in her stomach. It was him, Anakin. Anakin’s blue saber was pointed at the ground, more focused on her than the older man. 

The necklace he gave her burned her through her robes. Anakin was finally there in front of her. This Anakin was different from her dreams. He stood with more pride and confidence. He was also the chosen one. “I-I didn’t expect to meet you like this,” She told him, knowing full well once on the ship, she would be interrogated about her knowledge of the boy. 

“Why are you with him?” The venom in his voice almost made her feel guilty about being who she was. “Are you-? Don’t tell me Y/n-” He couldn’t find the words to express his confusion and disappointment, “You’re a Sith. How can you be with them? You lied to me! Can’t you see what they’re doing to you? Can’t you see what they’ve done!”

“The Jedi know no facts,” She spoke, looking over at the Count, waiting for his head nod and sign of approval to ignite her orange saber. The whole weapon was made for destruction, a perfect saber to kill the chosen one. Its orange glow was representing strength. The curved hilt that matched hers of her masters was perfect for duels and close fights. “Only assumptions.”

It hurt her to have him looking at her in disgust. As if she was suddenly less than him because of her beliefs. “Anakin, you need to calm down,” She warned him as he charged towards her, only for Dooku to step in front of her, raising his hand to send bolds of electricity into the boy’s body and fling him into a rock wall. “Don’t keep me waiting,” Her master spoke before walking up the platform of the ship. 

Y/n only had seconds to understand that not only her master had abandoned her, Anakin was also lying limp in a pile of rocks, and the other Jedi was making his way towards her. She pointed her saber straight ahead at him, taking careful steps around him, trying to think about how this all would end. Was this it? When is supposed to kill the chosen one who happened to be the boy Y/n had fallen in love with over the past ten years? She knew that once she killed Anakin, she would have to kill the two sith above her, starting the two over with her as a master. 

“I heard the little green guy talks highly of you, Kenobi. What a pity it will be when I kill his two strongest men.”

Obi-wan shook his head, “You’re not Dooku’s apprentice. You’re just an assassin to him. Y/n why would he elect a child to be his successor?” He spoke as if he could read her mind, his blue eyes pleading with her. 

“You don’t know anything!” Y/n yelled, making the first strike. His saber skills were advanced, but quickly she was able to disarm him and left two marks on him, one on his arm and one on his thigh. She walked up to him, the two staring at each other. Was she about to kill this man? She had never killed a human before. Taking down droids and other creatures were casual to her. Humans? This man was edging her on with his eyes, both understanding that she wasn’t able to drive her saber into his neck. She couldn’t just kill a man who had done nothing to her. That would be wrong, right? But if it was so bad, why was she encouraged to do it? 

Before she could thoroughly choose, Anakin came at full force again. This time his master had tossed him his saber, making the fight two against one. “Why won’t you join our site, the right side?” Anakin asked, swiftly dodging her but failing to make any advancements to disarming her. 

“I don’t believe in any right sides.” She told him, knocking the green lightsaber out of his hand, evening out the fight. “I believe in one thing. Power of human will.” 

She walked into the ship quietly, ignoring the little green Jedi behind her. She didn’t care about the older man, Yoda or Count Dooku. She walked past the sith and made her way right to the pilot’s seat before sitting down. 

Dooku followed her, giving her space as she sat down. Crossing his arms like a disappointed parent, he asked, “Well?”

“I cut his arm off,” Y/n spoke, taking out the necklace and looking at the charm in her hand. She left right after, watching him lay unconscious against his master, missing apart of his right arm. She had hurt him, and for a moment, when she was looking at the injured pair, the padawan’s master had the same look on his face as before. An eyebrow raised as if to say, Do it, kill us. I doubt you’ll do it. 

“I’m disappointed in you.” He said. Y/n could have done it. She would have just pictured them as droids and slice the two in half. It would have been quick and painless. She could have plaid her life out, kill the chosen one, rule the sith, and live her life. Why didn’t you? She kept thinking as she admired the gift. 

Looking at the charm, the future she talked about seemed too far away, especially now. The end with the boy she loved, Anakin, who also was the boy she was supposed to kill. But for right now, she thought to herself. She wouldn’t kill him, at least not yet, until she knew for sure that her fantasies with Anakin were just wild dreams. It was her own life. Why couldn’t she have the things she wanted? 

#anakin skywalker imagine #star wars imagine #anakin imagine #anakin skywalker imagines #star wars imagines #anakin imagines #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin x reader #star wars x reader

[ravs6709]

Euneirophrenia- Solinh

Okay, so this is a repost, but only because I was on mobile and tumblr wouldn't let me post the full thing on tumblr (so I just posted a link to ao3), because "there were too many blocks". So this time, I'm posting the actual fic!

Anyways, this fanfic was inspired by A Handmade Scrapbook on ao3 and came across a dreamsharing au. From there I immediately knew I wanted to make a Solinh oneshot

So yeah, you share your dream with someone who will be important to your life. Not necessarily romantic, it can be student and mentor, but in this case it is romantic. Anyways it’s just snapshots of Sophie’s life (mostly of being a child) and interactions with Linh

Warnings- Linh's guilt over the flooding of Atlantis is mentioned a lot, food mention, and I think that's it?

•~•~•~•~•~•

Sophie always loved hearing the stories that her parents told. She was only four years old, but she was able to picture the scenery, she was able to understand some of the things that were discussed. They were soulmates, with a bond that started at fourteen. Sophie wanted to be just like them.

That changed in the next year.

Sophie had hit her head, and then she was hearing voices everywhere. It took weeks to be able to start figuring out where each voice came from, and another to realize that she recognized those voices. They were from people that she knew.

The world as she knew it changed, harsh thoughts constantly hidden behind- fake- smiles. And with her ability to understand things easier, she knew what the people around her thought. She was able to hear their cruel thoughts, when all she wanted was for them to go away.

She kept herself distanced from her friends, because they were thinking so much and so loud she wanted to cry. No matter how much Emma and William tried to get her to go outside and make new friends, it wouldn't work.

Even if people weren't so loud, how was she supposed to deal with knowing how others truly felt about her?

Sophie knew it was an irrational thought- she was only five years old, but hearing the namecalling that was internally directed towards her hurt. Was the person who she would dreamshare with also going to act the same?

•~•~•~•~•~•

Sophie was six years old when she found a giant mansion filled with crystals and other sparkly things. It was like the mansions in the TV shows, except way more fancy. There were paintings lined against the hallway.

"Who are you?" A soft voice asked.

Sophie turned around and saw a person with one of the faces from the paintings. They looked to be around her age, maybe a year older. They had a round face framed with long black hair. They had a soft smile which made their silvery blue eyes gleam. They were pretty.

The person's eyes widened. "You... you're hu-" they pressed their lips together, as if to cut themselves off. "You have brown eyes."

"Of course I do!" She said. "Brown eyes are common!"

She ignored the fact that she was the only one with them in her family.

"But..." they narrowed their eyes. "Where I... come from, we all have blue eyes. But I don't understand what's going on. Are you real?"

"I'm real. My name's Sophie Foster. She and her."

But as she spoke, there was no sound when she said the name Foster.

They nodded, still looking confused. "I'm Linh... she and her. I thought the dreamsharing didn't start until you were fourteen."

That was something that Sophie was confused about too. Some people started as early as nine, but that was incredibly rare. But there was another thing that was off about Linh.

"It's quiet," she whispered.

People within dreams didn’t have thoughts- for obvious reasons, but she was usually still able to hear the distant thoughts and dreams of her family. But at the moment, it was quiet. It was almost unnerving.

"What do you mean?"

This isn't a normal thing. Should I tell her? Would she believe me?

"Your mi-" No, she wasn't going to say anything. "Where are we?"

She knew that the place a dream took place would be somewhere that one of the people within the dream would know. And Sophie definitely had no idea where she was.

"It's my home," Linh replied.

"This mansion is yours?"

Linh blinked. "Where were live, we all have... mansions."

"Where do you live?" Sophie was sure that such a place would be well known. "I live in San Diego."

Once again, the words were omitted.

"Oh. I guess that doesn't work."

"Do you want me to take you around the house? I think we can explore."

Sophie smiled. "That sounds like fun!"

•~•~•~•~•~•

"Mom, how did it feel like when you first met dad in your dream again?"

Even if Emma didn't tell her the answer, Sophie was able to see it within her mind.

"I was in a place that felt unknown, yet also familiar. The place was vivid that I didn't think it would be from my imagination."

Sophie thought about it for a moment. Sometimes, it was hard to figure out whether she had a vivid imagination, or if it was just due to her photographic memory. She'd definitely never set a foot in a mansion, let alone one as big as the one in her dream.

"I think I shared a dream with someone," Sophie admitted.

'I think that we need to let her be outside more often. She doesn't have enough friends, so she's dreaming on imaginary friends.'

The thought was loud and clear, and she winced. It was something she wondered about. But she hadn't met anyone like Linh, and talked about her twin, Tam. There were too many details that there was no way that Sophie would be able to come up with it on her own.

"Sophie, you're only six, that wouldn't be possible."

'Maybe she never recovered from her head injury?'

•~•~•~•~•~•

The next dream didn't happen for a while, which led Sophie to believe that maybe her mom was right. It took over a month for it to happen again.

"Hello Sophie," Linh greeted.

Sophie smiled. "Hey Linh! This isn't me imagining things, am I?"

"I thought the same thing. My mother and father didn't believe me when I said I was sharing a dream. I left out the fact that you're a hu-"

Once again, Linh cut herself off. What was she talking about? This is the second time. For once, she wanted to read Linh's mind. But it was a dream, so even if she tried, it would never work.

So instead, she decided to distract herself. They weren't in the mansions this time, they were outside. It was strange though, the shops were huge and there were crystals and blue fires that burned. Sophie also noticed that there seemed to be no sky, there was something above them that was blue, but there were no clouds nor sun.

"We went shopping here today," Linh explained. She sounded a little happier than before. "I wonder if we can go inside."

It turned out that they could go inside, and Sophie wasn't surprised that it was all empty. She expected to see t-shirts or jeans but what she saw were tunics and dresses. Then again, it seemed that Linh wore a dress too.

She looked down at her own clothes, only now realizing that she wasn't in her pjyamas, but an orange shirt that had a dog on it, plus jeans.

"Can I touch the clothes?" Sophie asked.

She didn't go shopping often, especially after she started hearing the thoughts of others. The big malls were always filled with people, and she couldn't stand to be there for long periods of time. She had to rely on distractions such as music, or focusing on textures. It didn't always work out though, as her parents would always forbid her from poking around.

"I don't think what happens in our dreams will affect the outside world," Linh said, which probably meant a yes.

Slowly, Sophie walked around, trailing her finger across every piece of clothing. Everything was usually soft, she'd never felt anything like it before. She picked up one of the tunics to see what it was made of, but didn't find the material label at the back.

"What are they made of?" She asked.

Linh hummed. "I don't know. They don't tell us."

"Isn't there supposed to be a label that says that?" She checked again, then found something. There were lines joined together, but she couldn't understand any of it.

"It's a different language," Linh explained. "Wait." Her voice took on a different tone. "I'm sorry, I need to leave now, I'll see you later Sophie."

•~•~•~•~•~•

Amy was growing into an age where she was starting to make more sense of things, but was still really hyperactive. It wouldn't have been too bad, if it weren't for the fact that her mind was screaming at all times. And then she would scream too.

She still had no answers as to why Linh had left so abruptly, or why she sounded panicked. Did something happen to her family?

There was another thing that was weird though. Sometimes, she felt like Mr. Forkle- her neighbour- would he watching her. In a way, she understood why, he was the one who had found her when she hit her head. So he probably had some kind of sense of responsibility of looking after her. But his gaze felt like it was piercing her sometimes.

It was during those times when she would start feeling bad. She felt the need to doubt his intentions when she was very much able to read his thoughts.

With the combination of Amy and school, Sophie was starting to get better at ignoring the voices. They were still there, and they still hurt, but if she could just ignore it, it wouldn't hurt as much. It was a good thing she had her photographic memory, otherwise she'd probably struggle at school.

That was another thing. She'd skipped two grades, which was very clearly not normal. Her teacher was both impressed and annoyed by the quality of her work.

It's so tiring having to deal with this.

•~•~•~•~•~•

Sophie woke up and she was in school. The classrooms were empty, the the chalkboard had writing from the math that was being taught in class.

Did I fall asleep during school?

There was no teacher in the room, which only made her panic. Where did everyone go? She looked around again, and saw someone sitting at a desk in the back corner (Sophie sat in the other corner). It took a few moments to realize that it was Linh sitting there.

"This is a dream again, isn't it?" Sophie asked.

Linh nodded, but something about her looked uneasy. "This is a dream."

"Is everything okay?"

She bit her lips, her eyes flicking everywhere, then landing on the chalkboard. "I don't understand. You're not supposed to know my language."

"I don't?" She remembered trying to read the label last time, but it never worked.

"No, I mean speaking. Where we live, we have our own special language. You shouldn't be able to communicate with me."

That was weird. Sophie would have remembered learning another language. "Maybe that's a side effect of the dream? So we can talk to each other?"

"Maybe," Linh didn't sound convinced about it. "But I don't understand why I'm dreamsharing with you. There'd be no reason for me to ever meet you. I'm not leaving where I live, and there would be no way for you to come here."

"Why not?"

It couldn't be that hard to meet Linh. All one of them had to do is be able to dream of an area with a landmark, or something that would reveal the location. Besides, they were still children, they'd have the money to travel around in the future.

"It's... a long explanation," Linh admitted. "How about you tell me about this place?"

"It's my school. Do you not go to school?"

"We get taught at home, and then when we get a little older we go to a school. But I think at the schools here, there's usually one mentor per prodigy."

Prodigy ? Is that what they call students ? And mentors for teachers?

"We definitely don't have enough teachers to do that," Sophie said with a laugh.

Linh laughed too, and her body began to visibly relax. She no longer sat up straight, and the frown that she wore disappeared.

"There's... twenty-five desks in this class? How does a teacher manage to deal with this many children at once?"

Sophie laughed. "I have no idea."

"What have you been learning about in school?"

"We've been learning about multiplying numbers and all that. I wasn't actually supposed to be in this class. I'm supposed to be in the class two grades lower than me, but I'm apparently really good at school."

She wasn't sure of what kind of expression she expected to see on Linh's face, but it wasn't one that was more thoughtful.

"What is it?" Was it one of those things that Linh couldn't bring herself to talk about?

"It's nothing."

Maybe one day, if we meet up early, I could ask her.

•~•~•~•~•~•

They were in Sophie's living room his time, and Sophie was in a good mood. The walls were decorated with streamers and the cake that she'd eaten was sitting on the table in front of her, the candles burning.

She looked around and saw Linh sitting beside her on the couch, staring at the birthday cake in awe.

"What's going on here?" Linh asked.

"It's my birthday. Or, the end of it, I guess."

"You celebrate the date of your birth?"

Sophie blinked. "You don't?"

"I think I'm nine years old, but I'm not really sure."

"I turned seven today."

"Happy... birthday?"

Sophie laughed. "Yeah, that's what you say. Thank you."

To be honest, Linh didn't look like she was nine. She looked der than Sophie, but it didn't feel like she was a whole two years older.

"Did you do anything for your birthday?"

Sophie grinned. "We used to go out, but after I started getting headaches, we've taken to staying inside. We stayed inside and had fun and played games. It was great."

With only the four of them, there weren't as many thoughts to bombard her mind with either.

"That sounds like fun."

There was something off about her tone... envy?

"Is something wrong?"

"I wouldn't want to ruin the mood."

"Linh," she reached over and took her hand. "You can tell me. You don't have to tell me everything, but you can let it out, and then we can do something as a distraction."

"My parents don't like me and my brother. We're twins, and our society doesn't like twins."

"That's stupid!" Sophie exclaimed. "I know a few sets of twins, and they seem great! It's normal!"

"It's tiring," Linh sighed. "It's really tiring."

"I'm sorry you have to go through that. Would you like a distraction? We can try eating the cake."

"What's it made of? Is there any meat?"

"Meat..? My dad's allergic to eggs, so it's completely vegetarian. Is there another concern?"

Linh's eyes widened, but then she seemed to recover. "No, I'm a vegetarian, that's all."

"Okay, I'll be right back."

Sophie went to the kitchen and brought out some plates and cutlery. She came back and saw Linh staring at the cake in awe again.

"You look like you've never seen a birthday cake before," Sophie remarked.

"I haven't," Linh whispered.

"Okay, come sit next to me. You're gonna blow out the candles."

"Isn't that something you would do? Since it's your birthday?" But still, Linh moved to sit next to her.

"I mean, yeah, but I already did it. I don't know if you'll get another chance anytime soon, though when we meet up I'm definitely gonna bake you cakes. So come on, make a wish, then blow out the candles."

"Okay. Do I tell you what I wish for?"

"I think it's better kept a secret."

"Okay."

Linh closed her eyes and Sophie thought that her eyelashes were way too pretty for her own good. When she blew the candles out, she looked so happy, and Sophie wished to see Linh like that more often.

After that, Sophie set the candles aside and then cut the cake. They sat on the couches, and ate.

"Ooh, this is delicious!" Linh exclaimed. "I didn't think this cake would taste so good!"

"Yeah, it's great," Sophie agreed. "Y'know, I didn't even think of whether the dreamsharing would allow for taste, but it does."

"Oh, ew, imagine eating but with no taste at all."

"Ew, gross."

They both laughed at that.

•~•~•~•~•~•

The more and more that Sophie shared her dreams with Linh, the more she thought that Linh wasn't a normal child. Their cultures were so different, it was unlike anything she had ever seen. She tried looking up certain things, but it didn't seem to work.

The things that they did were different too. It seemed like Linh was homeschooled, but while she knew concepts, she didn't know any famous people. The food they ate was different too. They'd done a few taste tests, and Sophie learned that mallowmelt was her new favourite thing to eat. She also learned what eating something with no taste was.

"I've never had it before," Linh had told her. "I'm pretty sure it's not supposed to taste like this."

"Maybe that's why. Maybe like how the environment is somewhere where one of us has gone to, the same applies with taste. So if neither of us have tried something, it doesn't know how to register taste."

"That makes sense."

They also played video games once, and it looked like Linh never even seen an electronic before. They played Mario Kart, a classic, and one that Sophie loved playing with her family.

She knew that Linh seemed to be East Asian, but she had no clue about the specifics. Probably Vietnamese, based on the name. But still, that didn't really help in finding out where exactly Linh was, or why she seemed so out of touch with the world. She lived in a mansion, so it wasn't like money was an issue for her.

•~•~•~•~•~•

"Okay, so..." Sophie began hesitantly. "I haven't told anyone this, but I have a question."

"I'll try my best to be accepting of whatever this is," Linh said.

Sophie sighed in relief. "Okay... so... what are your viewpoints on gender?"

"As in how the society treats people?"

"I mean..." Does she not know what I'm talking about? "Gender identity."

Linh looked confused. "What do you mean? We're both girls, that's our gender?"

At Sophie's dismayed look, she continued. "I genuinely don't understand, do you think you can explain? I'd like to know."

"Do you ever have a moment where you feel like you're not a girl?"

"Do you feel like a boy then?"

"No, not a boy. But not quite a girl either. Sometimes I feel like I'm just... something else. I don't really have words to explain it."

"I've never thought about it before," Linh admitted. "I don't think anyone where I live has ever thought that. But now that I think of it, I did find it... different that you told me your pronouns. I just said the same as I didn't know how to react."

"Oh. I see. You know how my pronouns were she/her before, right?" Sophie asked. "Can you use they/them pronouns for me instead?"

Linh nodded. "I'll do my best!"

They smiled. "That's the best I can ask for."

•~•~•~•~•~•

Sophie remembered the shopping district that Linh had taken them too a while back. It only took a second for them to realize that something was wrong. The shop's were destroyed, and their was water everywhere.

"Linh! Where are you?" Again, Sophie wished that they could sense her with their telepathy.

There was silence, except for the sound of crying.

"Linh!" They followed the sound and saw Linh curled into a ball. "Linh, what happened?"

She turned to them with red eyes. "I did this."

It looked like a flood happened. There was no way a single child would cause a flood. "I'm sure you didn't do this."

There was a sob. "No, I'm not exaggerating. Everything here, the water destroying and ruining everything, I caused it. It was all my fault!"

Something this large didn't seem like it happened due to her, but it seemed like there was no point in trying to convince her otherwise.

"How did it happen?"

"I... it all peaceful... and then- I can't say, I'm sorry."

She's stuck in this place, having to relive her trauma. That can't be good for her mentally.

"It was an accident though, right? Nothing bad will happen to you, right?"

"They won't forgive me. Mh mother and father hate me right now, they think I'm a failure. The... leaders already know, and they're going to have a meeting as to what will happen to me."

Sophie didn't know much about law, but this sounded a lot like a court meeting. "They can't do that! You're what, ten? Eleven? You're just a child!"

"They might kick me out," she whispered. "And Tam..."

"Does he blame you too?" They asked.

She shook her head. "No. But... I fear that if I get kicked out, he'll do something that gets him kicked out with me. He might put himself through lots of unnecessary pain just to stay with me."

"Do you want him to stay with you?"

"I... I do. I love him more than anyone in the world. But I can't have him go through so much pain."

"I wish I could help," they murmured. "I can't do anything physically, but I wish I could change the dream or something, and we can do something as a distraction."

"Can I hold you? I think that would help. Usually when I hold Tam, I'll feel a little better."

They scooted closer to her. She patted her lap, so Sophie moved and sat there. It was nice being held actually, but they wished that this could have happened in a more positive context.

"I don't think you're a bad person, Linh," they told her. It seemed like it was something that needed to be said. "If everyone in the world ends up hating you, I won't."

The arms around them squeezed tightly. "Thank you, Sophie."

•~•~•~•~•~•

The gaps between dreamsharing were often a little long. A few days at minimum, but there have been moments where over a month would pass by. Despite that, Sophie wasn't surprised that they were sharing a a dream the very next day.

The room was large and mostly empty. It reminded them of a movie theater, except all the seats were empty, and everything was bright. Also the seats were long rows of benches. At the centre of it all, Linh was standing there. Her hair now had silver on the tips, but they chose not to mention it.

"This is where the meeting happened," Linh said. "I'm being banished from my home. And well, Tam did what I thought he would. He's letting himself be banished so he could stay with me."

"Will you be okay?" Sophie knew that if they were to get kicked out of the house, it wouldn't go well. They'd have to get a job and find some place to stay. It'd be hard to get food. And someone like Linh- who was rich- wouldn't fare too well.

"We won't actually be all by ourselves," Linh admitted. "Our official 'home' is just for the two of us, but we'll be interacting with people who'll provide us food."

"That's not as bad as it can be, then."

"I wouldn't say that. The... place we go to, it's for people like me who did things that caused harm."

"They know that you weren't being malicious, right?" Sophie asked. "Are all those people innocent? Or are there some that might genuinely be bad?"

"I don't think all of them will be innocent. But the leaders have made their decision, and I can't disobey them. Thank you though, for caring."

"I'll always care."

•~•~•~•~•~•

The dreamsharing began to happen less often, which scared Sophie at first. They also noticed that the scenery was almost always somewhere that they'd gone to, not Linh. But that was fine with them, because it meant that Linh wasn't forced to look at the area that had been flooded.

On days when the dreams were far apart, Sophie wondered if something happened to Linh. This time, they were in Sophie's room. They were more relaxed, and while she didn't look tired, she was out of breath.

"It's tough over there, isn't it?" Sophie asked.

"Yeah, a lot of exercise and training. It's what we do everyday, and its exhausting." She flopped down on to the bed. "Oh, this feels nice."

Sophie vaguely remembered how the beds felt like in Linh's home, and if she was calling their bed nice, it meant that the living conditions wherever Linh was couldn't be that good.

"Also, Sophie?"

"Yeah?"

"What other pronouns are there?"

They hummed. "There's so many, I wouldn't be able to name them all. I can look some up on my phone and we can look at them, if you want."

That's what they ended up doing, Sophie would look at some pronouns and then say them aloud, because Linh couldn't read English.

"Wait, say that one again," Linh said.

"Ve, vem, vis, verself?"

Linh nodded, and was murmuring something under her breath. "Is there a variation of it?"

"Uh. I found ve, ver, vis, verself."

"Hmm, is there one that changes up the vis?"

"Most of them do seem to but... okay, I think I've got one. Ve, ver, ver, vers, verself."

"I like the sound of that one. But also, I still like my current pronouns."

"You don't have to give them up, you know? You could use both she and ver. You could use both at the same time, or use one at a time. It's your pronouns, you get to pick."

"I'll think about it. It's a little sudden, you know?"

"I get how you feel."

•~•~•~•~•~•

"Okay, so I have an answer."

"Ooh, what is it?'

"She/ve. Mix them up. If there's a change, I'll let you know."

"Okay!" Sophie smiled at ver. "You wanna play some video games now?"

She picked up a controller. "Of course."

•~•~•~•~•~•

"So, this is new."

They were outside this time, a large open environment. There were hundreds of trees, some bent over unnaturally. Sophie swore they'd seen something like that on the Internet before, but what was Linh doing there?

"It's been a while since we came somewhere that I was, right?" Ve said. "Just some more training here."

"Is it going okay?" They asked.

She shrugged. "It's alright, most of the time. They tried to get us to swim, but it's not going well."

Sophie remembered the image of the aftermath from that flood. Being surrounded by so much water must be difficult.

"I'm just glad you're doing okay," they murmured.

•~•~•~•~•~•

Sometimes, Sophie wondered if they had a crush on Linh. They were able to admit that ve was pretty, and the silver tipped hair of vers looked really good with her silver-blue eyes. She was also kind too, something that Sophie desperately needed from someone.

But other moments, they wondered if it would have been someone else. If they only liked Linh so much because it was quiet. If it was someone else whose was quiet, would they have crushed on them instead?

Surprisingly, they got an answer to that (the answer being no). Sophie was on a field trip at a museum when someone came up to them and was confused that they had brown eyes.

"You have brown eyes." Linh had told them, one of the very first things that she'd ever said to them.

"Well... I do. Also, the news article misgenders me, I use they/them pronouns."

They weren't sure why they felt the need to say that, especially since they were likely never going to see that person again.

"Oh," they said. "Interesting. I'm just a boy."

Then he went and pointed towards the figure of the Albertosaurus and said some weird things. He turned to leave, but then a group of kindergarteners came screaming, their mental voices even louder.

It was weird to see him with the same pained expression they bore. He must have noticed it too. Then Sophie realized something. His mind was silent. And somehow, he knew that they were a telepath. Because Fitz- that was the boy's name- was too.

It was a blur after that, they panicked and a lantern almost killed them, and then there was the revelation that Sophie wasn't human.

"Where I... come from, we all have blue eyes." Linh had said.

There was something strange, but Sophie wasn't able to put it together.

•~•~•~•~•~•

Sophie was given some time to think thing over. They weren't surprised to see that another shared dream was happening. They were considering the idea of telling Linh this, seeing how someone else would react. It would be a good way to figure out their own feelings towards all of what was going on.

"Okay, so..." Sophie began, because how did you tell someone that you weren't human?

"You look nervous, did something happen?"

"Okay, how familiar are you with... more unnatural things?"

Linh blinked, but her face was carefully blank. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, if I said that it's not just humans out there, would you believe me?"

"I believe you, but can you explain some more?"

All the tension was just coming from them, Sophie knew it. Just say it!

"So I'm a telepath, and well, I have been for years, since before we met and all. But today I met someone else who was one and he told me that I'm an elf. This sounds ridiculous, right?"

To their surprise, Linh shook their head. "You're not the only one who kept secrets."

And then ver hands were moving, and there was water swirling in the air. "I'm one too. But I'm a hydrokinetic."

"Wait... you're an elf too?"

There were so many questions, like why didn't you tell me?, but they'd be a hypocrite if they actually asked that. But also, it made sense. The blue eyes. The giant crystals and mansions.

"Yeah, I am. You said you were a telepath since you were five?"

"Fitz was surprised too."

"Fitz?"

"He's the one who found me. The telepath. Do you know him?"

"No, I don't. Kind of got banished for years, remember?"

That was another thing. Fitz mentioned how Tribunals didn't happen often, because the laws weren't broken often. But Linh, ve was banished, a decision made by the leaders. The elvin leaders. And that, with the image of the flood...

It always did seem weird that there seemed to be no sky. What if it wasn't a sky? What if it was water? And Linh said that she had caused it...

"You lost control in that place, didn't you." It wasn't a question, it was a confirmation.

"You figured that out faster than I thought. So what are you going to do now? You're an elf now."

"I don't know," they whispered. "I don't know."

"I can answer more questions about you being an elf, if you'd like?"

"That would be nice."

•~•~•~•~•~•

Adjusting to Elvin life wasn't as hard as Sophie thought it was going to be. Maybe it was because they had friends, Dex, Fitz, Biana and Keefe. And not to mention Linh.

But then there were the secret organizations, and Sophie's life was quickly becoming more and more unusual. There were the kidnappings, there was Exile and the Everblaze fires. Getting through all those ordeals was a disaster, especially when things would go wrong, when people would get hurt or even killed.

Sophie was starting to realize just how flawed the Lost Cities could be, the subtle discrimination that went on, despite the claims of being inclusive. Innocents were being harmed. Seeing how the world worked made Sophie feel even more angry for what Linh was going through.

When they got a chance to join the Black Swan, they took it. They gladly took the chance to rescue Prentice. It didn't go how it was expected, and now Sophie was going to Exillium.

There was something about the area that seemed familiar. The trees were bent over. Where did I see this before? The Internet?

The test to be divided into the hemispheres was difficult, and Sophie resorted to using fire to get out. It could have gone worse, except a hydrokinetic had saved them.

I wonder how Linh will react knowing that I'm at Exillium. Training.

•~•~•~•~•~•

The activities that needed to be done were awful. Appetite suppression was by far one of the harder ones.

There was a shade who kept talking to them, he was wondering who Sophie was exactly. And why they'd thank the hydrokinetic. There wasn't anything to it though, Sophie just wanted to thank her.

Then there was the activity for swimming. The water was a cold torrent, and it was difficult. There was someone else who was struggling- the hydrokinetic. Sophie went up to her, they wanted to help, but it was best to ask for permission first.

The hydrokinetic seemed strangely relaxed after that, as if overcoming that trial was that important to her.

The shade went up to them, asking if they wanted to know what he knew about the woods. Sophie took that chance and leapt with them.

"And you're sure I can trust you, right?" He asked, once they were alone.

"Tam... I know we can trust them."

The hydrokinetic had been silent, but then she took a step forward.

... Tam?

The hydrokinetic took off her mask. "Sophie, it's me, Linh."

Linh. Linh!

Tam turned towards ver. "That's Sophie? The person you're sharing your dream with?"

Ve nodded. "I didn't realize until they were transmitting and helping me with the water."

Sophie stood for a few more seconds, shocked. Once their brain finally processed everything, they went in and gave her a hug.

"I knew that we would meet one day," they whispered. "I'm here now."

They could see Tam looking at them with a thoughtful expression. "You helped Linh during ver toughest times. I don't know how I could thank you."

"You can help me... us."

"I can trust you," he replied. "But can I trust your friends?"

"We'll see," Linh said, finally pulling away from the hug. "What I do know is that they're going to be a big part of our lives. We've gone though a lot now, but we'll go through more together. We'll tell you what we know."

Sophie nodded. "Thank you."

•~•~•~•~•~•

"You met with the two of them by yourself?" Keefe asked.

"I needed to get the information."

"But how did you know they could he tru-"

"Keefe... I've known Linh for almost eight years, I know for a fact that I can trust her."

"Linh," Mr Forkle questioned. "Linh Song?"

They turned towards him. "How do you know who that is?"

"It's hard not to have heard of the one who accidentally flooded Atlantis," he said. "She's the one you dreamshare with, right?"

"Wait," Fitz said. "You've been dreamsharing? For eight years? How come we never knew about this?"

Sophie shrugged. "I guess I just never bothered mentioning it."

"It changes a lot," Mr Forkle added. "If ve wasn't someone trustworthy, they'd be able to utilize a lot of information about Sophie, and possible harm them more. But I also know she can be trusted."

"Did you look into my dreams?"

The dreams they shared was a private space for Sophie. For it to be intruded upon-

"I had no intention. But you do know that I was the one who would teach you things in your sleep. I wasn't able to do it during the days you dreamshared."

Oh, that made more sense.

"Linh's just like us. Children who had wrong things done to them. Ve's just trying to survive."

"If you trust ver, so do I," Biana declared.

The others nodded. "Us too."

•~•~•~•~•~•

Not once did Sophie ever think it was a mistake to trust Linh. They worked together and saved the gnomes. Ve comforted them when Keefe left for the Neverseen. They helped each other. They helped her gain better control over ver hydrokinesis, and saved Atlantis in the process. They comforted her when Tam was taken by the Neverseen.

They interacted with the natural ease that came from knowing someone for a long period of time. And Sophie knew for sure that they had a crush on Linh, and they wouldn't want to have it any other way.

Together, they all managed to defeat the Neverseen, and restore some normality to the world. With a lot of the stress gone, they found it easier to think about their feelings.

"Hey Linh?"

"Yeah?"

"I like you romantically."

She scooted closer to them, then wrapped an arm around them. "I like you too. Does that mean we date now?"

"Yeah, I'd like that."

And just because Sophie felt like it, they leaned in, and smiled when ve closed the gap between them. It took all of those years for things to get this far, and Sophie knew that there were only more things in store. But for now, they revelled in the moment.

•~•~•~•~•~•

Not adding a taglist because I did already post this before, but if you wanna be added/removed, just let me know!

#sophie foster #linh song #solinh #kotlc #keeper of the lost cities #kotlc fanfiction #ravi writes a thing #queue are my star tonight

[neonponders]

WIP Wednesday

Thank you for tagging me @lazybakerart 💗💋

I’ve got two big writing projects on my plate this week lol but one thing I’m kind of indulging is a break-up/getting back together fic that I actually started in this post, but I’ll share what I have so far underneath the cut ~

(and excuse me while I overshare, because I’m still stupidly proud of this The Mummy_au post that I made if anyone wants a taste of that)

Tagging (if you want) ✨ @ghostofjellyfishforgotten , ✨ @smashmouth-hargrove , and ✨ @withoneheadlight 

(also just a heads up for the wip below: it’s once again me exploring my own asexuality through Steve, but I don’t know how far I’m going to go into it. Still, that might be a content warning people may need if they’re sex-repulsed 🌹)

Ch. 1

Sex with Billy was fine. Good, even.

When they finally moved past every look and touch being a threat veiled in a tease, Steve enjoyed looking at Billy. He enjoyed looking at Billy and discovering those California eyes already on him. He liked Billy’s hands. The man had beautiful hands; strong, thick fingers but...somehow elegant.

He liked Billy’s body, even though he sometimes worried that the guy seemed determined to break it ten different ways. Cigarettes, alcohol, excessive working out, and sometimes all at the same time.

Sex didn’t always mean Steve got to cum. Usually he didn’t, actually. But he enjoyed Billy’s kisses on his neck, and the taste of his tongue, and - admittedly - he loved just having all of Billy’s attention enraptured on him. Steve didn’t mind taking his dick inside because once he got used to it, that felt surprisingly good. When he managed the pleasurable sparks and sensational tingles that mounted into something explosive, he understood why sex was great. But for the more frequent, calm nights, he’d come to think of it as a weird yet pleasant massage.

So he took it. Because it was easier on his hands and knees, for one, and because Billy had a control complex. And Steve could hide his lack of enthusiasm.

Not to say that Billy was selfish or careless. Far from it, Billy Hargrove was an incredibly doting lover. Big surprise, there. Considering how the guy

Well

Existed.

Steve couldn’t really blame Billy for never noticing that he could go a long time without sex. Because Steve liked resting his hand on Billy’s chest while they watched a show or movie. It didn’t matter how much bare skin he had access to. In fact, the more coverage, the better. A clothed body is better to cuddle with than skin that can get sticky or irritated.

Steve liked kissing. He’d always liked kissing. Kissing was the reason he’d assumed he was like everyone else: the desire to kiss, crushes and girlfriends, masturbating, even the giddiness of sex with someone new.

But something fizzled out very quickly in Steve’s brain. Once hands and intent started moving beneath clothing, Steve just...didn’t want it. Suddenly a lot of things popped into his brain that he’d rather be doing. But he persevered because he loved Nancy, and her blooming sexual prowess and bravery was sexy.

Fun.

Billy was a whole big bag of new with an edge of scary that turned out to be more endearing than Steve thought possible. So it was easy to go like that for a while.

Normal.

Eventually he had to admit to himself that he didn’t like taking showers at 1am because he didn’t enjoy being covered in his own, and Billy’s, sweat. He didn’t like feeling the drips on his skin or the tackiness of too many skin oils on his hands.

He hated admitting to himself that he felt relief whenever Billy went out of town for work. He missed Billy, of course, but a lot of things had begun to snowball together in Steve’s life: changing jobs, managing bank accounts and savings, and there were a lot of truths Steve was facing outside of his relationship.

He was tired. Damn tired. He spent many days off wondering if people in their twenties feel this tired all the time or if it was just him. It must just be him. Because Steve sees Robin just as much as he doesn’t. She’s got goals.

And Billy

Billy has big dreams. He’s ready to work damn hard and already is. That’s why he uses his hefty gas money funds, to travel around. Scout the areas. Steve even drove him to the airport once, so Billy could really gain some distance over the weekend. Expand his network.

As if the universe knew, some bigwig passing through Hawkins on their way to Chicago ran right into Billy. A bigwig looking for a handsome, charismatic, young guy to mentor. It really couldn’t be more perfect than divine intervention. They’re Billy’s inlet to the business. Modeling, acting, freaking UNICEF ambassadorial work if he wants to feel extra important. If he gets big enough to have his face mean something around the world.

Within one conversation, he’s got a business card, and an appointment in a Chicago skyscraper next week to take measurements and do a rudimentary photo shoot. The manager warns him that it’s the agency getting to know him, but like any job interview, it’s his chance to interview them right back. Billy likes that a lot—feeling like he has a stake in something instead of just being a corporate pawn. And maybe he eats right out of the manager’s hand, but it’s still a shot. And he’s taking it.

He immediately goes to Steve’s work, fired up from seeing a future for the first time like he finally got the right prescription glasses. The only caveat is that Billy has to move out of Hawkins, which isn’t even a flaw, really. It’s as close to perfect as life’s ever been for him.

Steve can only listen quietly as he sits at the table in the break room. Because Billy’s got big dreams that are already coming true. Every detail of his enflamed speech is given over pacing feet; he can’t even bother to sit at the table. Billy’s got so much energy he’s already mentally and emotionally out the door.

Steve…isn’t. His mental health has been on a downward slope since before they graduated, and it won’t allow him to reach anywhere. He doesn’t have any dreams to steer him in any direction anyways.

Billy’s rant begins to wind down about what he wants to do; his fire about his dreams and his motivation simmers down to an even boil. Steve’s impressed and already proud of the person Billy will become, but Steve can also hear Billy’s frustration with him and their relationship.

For not keeping up.

Steve’s…kind of never been able to keep up. In bed or in life.

And perhaps the saddest part is that Steve doesn’t even have it in him to fight for it. For them. He doesn’t feel worthy enough to hold Billy back. So he doesn’t.

Billy snaps a little, “Why aren’t you saying anything? I’ve been talking about this for the last two years! Steve?”

He’d gotten distracted by looking at his backpack hanging on the wall. Steve’s throat hurt. Two years? God, it’s really been two years already…

He pinched his fingertips over the table as he began, “Billy, I support you. I know you can get there—wherever it is you want to be. I’m not going to tell you to stop or slow down. You’re going somewhere. But I’m…”

He took a breath to finally say it. “Not. I don’t know what I’m doing, and I don’t think I have the energy to figure it out any time soon. You should go.”

Steve can see the disappointment sinking through Billy’s features. And the anger that he’s so used to throwing up as a shield. Billy has so much energy coursing through him as it is, Steve can’t blame him for swinging right into the direction of livid.

The real surprise comes from how soft he speaks. No yelling. No hitting the table. No wrenching Steve up by his green uniform vest. They were long past those outbursts. Which…really just confirmed Steve’s decision. Billy had come a long way. He could go so much further.

“That’s what you have to say? Just like that…you’re really giving up on us?”

Steve knows he’s gaping like a stupid fish. But it isn’t just like that, is it? Billy’s been revving his engines to get the hell out of Hawkins ever since he got here in the first place. Steve tries to say as much, but Billy cuts him off.

“I thought you’d be excited for this. You should be hauling me out of here to pack my bags.”

Steve tries to offer a small smile, but his voice betrays him. “I thought I kind of am? I didn’t take you for the long distance type.”

It’s not the response Billy wants. That should make Steve feel better than it does; the blatant display that Billy wants more of Steve. His excitement, his attention, maybe his companionship…

Steve doesn’t know what he wants—or rather, he does. That’s the issue. Billy’s wants and Billy’s problems can all be resolved by leaving one critical piece behind.

Steve.

Some more things are said, but Steve doesn’t do well on the spot. Especially when the limelight is Billy. Steve fails the tests and he fails the interview. Billy storms out, leaving Steve at the table, pinching his fingertips white before he unconsciously glances at his backpack again.

The backpack full of apartment lease papers. The papers Steve’s already signed because even with his insecurities, the mornings he woke up to discover Billy spooning him after having returned in the middle of the night were his best days. Because Billy’s silly insistence on hand poured coffee was his favorite drink. Because Billy was funny and weird like an artist and loony like a nerd with his video games, and Steve knew—or at least hoped that—Billy loved him the day he started holding his hand while driving that stupid, loud, beloved Camaro—

Because Steve’s heart was a magnet. It stayed where it landed and tugged back even when pulled away.

All he’d needed was Billy’s autograph to be given the keys. Keys to the rest of their lives, if Billy wasn’t already so far away.

Ch. 2

Robin gripped Steve’s arm, hard. A gargled sound escaped him as he grimaced and tried to pry her hand off. Her other hand pointed at one of the catalogues on the store’s many counters. When he invited her with him to pick out glasses, he hadn’t expected to walk out of the freaking optometrist’s office with bruises…

Nor had he thought he’d see a familiar face in the catalogue. Plenty of models were looking editorial chic, advertising that anyone could look as good in whatever glasses they chose.

Except Billy really did look good. The picture was just a vague image outside, the camera focused on Billy’s three-quarter profile gazing off past the photographer.

“I didn’t expect him to actually be working this fast,” Robin admitted. “It’s been…what? Seven months, give or take? I thought casting calls for models were competitive.”

“Not if you look like Billy,” Steve huffed with a quiet mixture of humor, sadness, and just a sprinkle of spite. A sprinkle of jealousy, if he was being honest with himself. The self-help book tucked under the covers of his bed talked about honesty. So he admitted honestly, “He looks that good and knows how to stand out in a room…good for him.”

He could see in his periphery Robin looking up and scrutinizing him. “Really?”

Steve shrugged with a nod. “Yeah. What’s the other option? Him struggling for work?”

Robin sighed and plucked a display set of glasses at random to try on and occupy herself. “That’s big of you, but everyone wants something cathartic. It’s annoyingly impressive that he landed the front cover of a magazine in less than a year.”

Steve opened the catalogue to give them both a reprieve. “You wanna get food after this? Take your mind off the audition?”

For all the good being a band geek did, Robin had experienced her own humbling experiences over the last few months. Like failed auditions to be in city orchestras. She and Steve were feeling very stuck in Kansas while Billy gallivanted around Oz.

• • • • • • •

The plot gets messy because years will actually go by, and Steve and Robin get married so that they can share insurance benefits (and be safe in their bi/lesbian open relationship, buy a house together, etc. It’s the life/happiness security Steve wants but obviously there aren’t any romantic feelings).

Of course this is when Billy happens to reenter Steve’s life. He’s got some hot-shot model he’s been seeing, and apparently Steve is married so there’s the added dash and twist of ~ cheating ~

I’ve been in some kind of mood, all right.

If you made it this far, thank you for reading lol.

#harringrove #wip wednesday #this is a long one i'm sorry lol #also do check out the mummy au linked above for a much happier wip lol #neonponders #lazybakerart #the art of steve in a blindfold can also be considered a wip? #i'll reblog it for everyone haha #ficlet #break-up/getting back together

[thecandywrites]

The Beginning of Stormbreaker Part 2

So cute. 

Part 2

Rhosland woke up just before sunrise, bright eyed and energized and couldn’t wipe the giddy smile off her face if she tried as she and her twin sister left right at sunrise just as their mother finished baking the overnight bread, and also conveniently just after Drad and Sarg came and delivered more ���gifts” to them, Sarg gave Esri a fishing net and fishing lures and lines along with a big set of big baskets so they could keep the fish and whatever else they foraged together as Drad gave each of them the stone timber axes, and a large, thick quilt blanket, so large it would cover three bedrolls. Each square was stuffed with cotton, wool and down feathers so that each square was puffy in the quilt so that they would not get cold in their tent just in case the bitter cold of fall and winter came early, which the girls happily took and hugged those men goodbye as Drad and Sarg helped push as the girls pulled their rowboat to the biggest stream as the women rowed their little boat down the stream that cut through the village, underneath all the bridges  and soon were out to sea before they rowed it north towards Hurricane Breaker until they found the estuary between Skull Screamer Clan and Hurricane Breaker and rowed upstream, happily finding all kinds of fish and seafood in the creeks before they found the perfect camping spot right on the edge of a forest next to a fallen tree that was the perfect bench height and set up camp and ate the fish they were able to easily catch for breakfast with their bread that thier mother had sent them with. 

“So you must have had really good dreams last night, you won’t stop smiling.” Esri teased her sister even though she was in a similar state. 

“I did,” Rhos nodded. 

“Well go on, tell me about them.” Esri requested as she scooted closer to her sister as they sat on a fallen log by their camp fire since they had pulled the little row boat up on shore and the log had been covered in wild, edible mushrooms which the girls readily cut off and were in the process of drying them to preserve them while eating a few of them, cooked in their pot over the fire with their breakfast since one of their bride gifts from the clan had been a few logs of smoked and preserved fat as they had sliced off a few pieces of the cow and hog fat and fried the mushrooms in that in their pot which only made the mushrooms taste even more meatlike. 

“I had a dream that Drad came back from the raid and claimed me as his wife instead of Tar and we built the most perfect house together and we had so many kids and we were just...so happy. And it’s like my intuition is telling me that it will come true.” Rhosland whispered, afraid that if she said it too loudly it would tempt the fates and not come true. 

“That’s funny, because I had a similar dream about Sarg.” Esri beamed. 

“Oooh, and?” Rhos giggled. 

“Oh, very good, I had a dream we sailed out to sea on this big sailing ship and that rocking of the boat made the rutting so much better.” Esri giggled in turn.

“Do you think it will come true?” Rhosland asked. 

“It better! Cause my mind and heart keep telling me it will come true, plus they were both there to see us off and got us both gifts to help us on this hunting and gathering trip and just hugging Sarg this morning felt...amazing.” She insisted with a wistful sigh. 

“Me too, but with Drad obviously.” Rhosland confirmed as the girls continued to eat to their satisfaction for the first time in a long time. 

“Come on, I have a good feeling that we will kill some deer today, we should build a smoker to smoke the meat.” Rhos suggested as they used their new axes and chopped down a good stone timber tree and other kinds of trees and began building a really good smoker out of the wood before they fashioned the bigger baskets to hang off of their hips and immediately started finding all kinds of wild edible berries, cattails and other wild edible plants, edible mushrooms all around them and so many different kinds of herbs for seasoning and medicine and even an abandoned bee hive full of combs, thick with honey which they gladly took all of it that they could reach and harvest before they shot down a couple of deer and drug the deer back to camp and immediately got to work dressing them and putting their meat in the smoker and tanning their hides and then used the net and caught a bunch of fish, gutted and cleaned them and put those in the smoker too. 

It was single handedly the best day they had ever spent gathering because this spot had an overabundance for them and they quickly had to use the dried grasses to make bushel sized baskets for all that they harvested since all the baskets that they had packed were now full as they sat on the log, watching the gorgeous red sunset and just about the time they got done weaving their new baskets and organizing everything into those baskets and put it all inside the tent just as the sun went down- a very thick fog came in from the sea with a chill and settled over them as Rhos and Esri both instinctively went into their tent and rested and for dessert, dined on the honey that they dipped their wild berries into before falling into a restful, sweet sleep, curled up under the wonderfully big, thick, and supremely warm blanket that kept the cold completely off of them as suddenly the winds kept changing in the most bizarre way, blowing in different directions so that it felt like it was blowing in from all sides and picking up speed, making the smoke of their fires take up an odd pattern within the fog itself before it blew in heavily towards from the west again, inland from the sea.   

Meanwhile Tar was disappointed that “his Rosey” had already left for a hunting and gathering trip, so he couldn’t try to lay with her real quick before the raid, he was celebrating as if he had already had a successful raid and noticed that a thick fog blew in that evening but that didn’t deter him or his father or the rest of his family. The next morning, the fog was still excessively thick. So much so that they could barely see the road from their houses but Zash and his sons felt confident in their ability to still use their inner compass and that the fog would conceal them and that they would attack the Rush Fang Clan completely by surprise and it would guarentee their victory over them and set off with their men that morning and disappeared into the unusually thick fog while Orcoth had promised Sarg and Drad that he would keep a careful watch over their mother Grat and Rhos’ and Esri’s mother Shari and assured both women that they would see their children again soon as the three of them kept to themselves as Grat invited Shari to stay with her while her daughters would be away so the two would not get lonely which Shari greatly appreciated as Grat also invited Orcoth to stay as well, to play games and enjoy each other’s company since Grat’s house that Wolvish had built her was still big enough to fit all of them comfortably. 

However- Zash and his sons got hopelessly lost and turned around several times, not even recognizing their own walking paths in the tall grass in the thick fog that soon enveloped them and their raiding party as Zash and his sons were adamant that the fog would clear and that they would find Rush Fangs and ignored and rebuked and rebutted any who had left signs along their path to show that they had been walking in circles before Zash felt confident that he was turning Southeast, when in fact, he was turned Northwest and heading straight towards the much bigger and more fearsome Hurricane Breaker. 

And when the fog did partially clear, they found Hurricane Breaker, their bright golden bronze breast plates glinting in what little sunlight finally was able to push through. Whose shaman had sensed that they were coming and were ready for them and were outnumbering them twenty to one as Drad and Sarg both looked worriedly at each other when they saw that their comparatively smaller raiding party was completely surrounded before the fog quickly enveloped them all again as the clash of warriors played out as Drad did everything in his power to keep Sarg by his side after he saw Tar and everyone in Tar’s family fall to the ground dead from the fatal blows, before he smelled...smoking venison with a hint of smoking fish as the words of his new adopted father Orcoth replayed in his head but it was like he was the only one who could smell it and by this point Sarg and Drad were both injured, almost fatally so and knocked off their horses, as Drad took Sarg on his injured side while Sarg did the same, pushing their injured sides together so they could use their good sides to manage to get out of there and Drad followed his nose in the smell, as the scent itself seemed to be in a wiggly pattern but the wiggly pattern helped both of them avoid the other warriors of Hurricane Breaker as the fog itself was so thick they could barely see their hands in front of their faces but kept them practically invisible as Drad continued to slowly and as quietly as possible, follow the smells as Drad could pick up more on the scent of smoking venison while Sarg could smell the scent of smoking fish stronger as they both followed the same trail of scents until the scent led them out of the warzone and the father away they got, the lighter the fog became so that they could see more and smell more and by now, the scent was very strong and it gave them hope that they were close as they both hobbled towards it and just as the fog thinned out even more, they saw a camp sight, just as Rhosland and Esri were leaving a tent and Drad had never thought Rhosland looked more beautiful in his life. 

“Drad?” Rhos asked when she and her sister were brave enough to leave their tent when they woke up to the sounds of a battle as their instincts told them to stay in the tent because it sounded like it was very close by before the sounds faded as if the war zone was traveling farther and farther away before they ventured out, only to be met with the sight of Drad and Sarg, both trying to hold up the other and trying to walk despite their injuries. 

“Rhosland! Help me!” Drad called out to her as she and Esri quickly dropped their axes and ran towards them and helped them back into their tent as a pop up thunderstorm came and started raining and washing Drad and Sarg’s bloody trail away before moving towards the east on the western wind again as Rhosland and Esri both got to work cleaning and dressing Drad and Sarg’s wounds with the herbs that they had found and were turning them into poultices.

“What are you doing here? I thought you guys were supposed to be raiding Rush Fang.” Rhos asked worriedly as she worked on stabilizing Drad’s wounds and to stop him from bleeding out right there in their tent, calling on all of her medical knowledge she had acquired up until that point to help her do so.

“We lost our way in the fog, got turned around several times over but Zash and his sons wouldn’t listen to anyone about it and the fog was so thick, we couldn’t tell where the sun was, let alone where we were going.” Drad answered in staggered breaths. 

“The fog was so thick we couldn’t see our hands in front of our faces and Zash wouldn’t hear of any objections to waiting until the fog cleared to go raiding because they were sure that the fog would help us, instead of hinder us.” Sarg added as he hissed and then grunted and whimpered as Esri set his arm back into place then used a piece of wood and a strip of cloth from her skirts to tie it off to keep it straight as she then used her fishing line to sew up the bigger wounds after cleaning them off through the poultices and their left over cleaned water that they had boiled to make tea with as Rhos was doing the same to Drad’s ankle that he had somehow rolled and twisted. 

“So how did that turn out?” Rhosland asked. 

“I watched as Zash and all of his sons fell, their heads rolling away from their bodies. It was only the smoke of your smoking the venison that I smelled that I followed that saved us, I don’t know if anyone else will survive.” Drad answered honestly as he was hissing and biting back curses as Rhos was doing her best to heal him and set his ankle right and stitch up his bloody leg that had been hacked almost to the bone as she tried to put the blood vessels and veins back together as she pushed them together and stitched it shut.  

“The venison.” Rhos and Esri both said in unison as they realized that that scent could lead Hurricane Breaker to them too before they heard hoof beats in the distance. 

“Don’t make a sound.” Rhos and Esri both breathed in a whisper to Sarg and Drad before they quickly left the tent and took the fishing net and ran towards the river to wash the blood off their clothes before they were surrounded by a group of shield maidens only moments after the blood washed away from them and their campsite and was carried downstream, the blood dissolving completely into the river. Once they saw that Rhos and Esri were unarmed but simply in water up to their chests and barely grunt sized orcs, they assumed that Esri and Rhosland were younglings, barely subadults, struggling with a fishing net as they came to the conclusion that Rhos and Esri posed no threat whatsoever and noticed the axes were purely for cutting down trees, not warfare and thus, they were unarmed which put them at ease. 

“Who are you and what are you doing here?” The captain Tilge, a shieldmaiden herself demanded. 

“My name is Rhosland and this is my twin sister Esri, we are on a hunting and gathering trip, we are from the Skull Screamer Clan, but we didn’t see any markers on this land and thought this was unclaimed and neutral land, did we miss a marker or something?” Rhosland asked innocently enough. 

“No, this is unclaimed and neutral land, because mosquitoes and malaria are thick here. So you should be careful. But are you aware that the Skull Screamer Clan attacked us?” Tilge asked them. 

“Who’s us? I assume you’re talking about Hurricane Breaker? Skull Screamer was not supposed to attack you, everyone knows you are much bigger and fiercer clan than even Typhoon Breaker, Zash and his raiding party were supposed to raid Rush Fang which is in the Southeast, that’s what Zash and all his sons were talking about in the great hall two days ago when we left Skull Screamer to come here to go on our fall hunting and gathering trip, we specifically chose this spot because it was in the opposite direction they were supposed to be headed, you can ride to Skull Screamer now and ask our mother, Shari- she is a widow and has no husband or son to raid so that just leaves my sister and I to take care of her, she lives in the mud and mud brick hut right on the outskirts of town. If Skull Screamer came against you, the only thing I can think of is that they must have gotten lost in the fog, once the fog came in from the sea, my sister and I took shelter in our tent and we’ve only come out once we heard the roar of the fight die down.” Rhos explained nonchalantly as Tilge could tell by the way Rhosland was speaking along with her body language that she was speaking truth and trusted her words. 

“We are Hurricane Breaker, and my name is Captain Tilge, and you’re correct. Skull Screamer did attack us and they were clearly lost and must have been out of their minds to do so. Have you seen any of your warriors come towards you? Because the scent of the smoking venison is what brought us to you.” Tilge answered.  

“No, only you, at least so far.” Esri answered as she and Rhosland both shook their heads no with a shrug as they focused on getting the net into position to try and catch something in the water. 

“So since we pose no threat, might we be friends? The fish that we caught earlier should be done smoking by now, would you like some?” Rhosland asked as she and her sister managed to catch a school of fish in their net before they came up on shore, dragging their catch behind them in the net so that Tilge and the other shieldmaidens could see that they were small, still developing and obviously young and far from dangerous. 

“Yes, thank you.” Tilge smiled as she and her group dismounted and let the horses graze nearby as they all took a seat on the big log by the fire as Esri and Rhosland took out the now smoked fish and the smaller pieces of smoked venison replaced them with the new fish they caught after quickly gutting them and gave the shieldmaidens the smoked fish and the smaller pieces of smoked venison as they all enjoyed a nice impromptu meal, using the big, broad leaves of a nearby plant as plates as Esri and Rhosland were sharing what they had gathered so far and casually picked up their stone timber axes and let them lean against the log, between them and the tent and sat with the shield maidens, and felt an uncommon ease and calm in their beings so as not to give any suspicion that they were hiding anything. 

As they shared a meal, Tilge and her other shieldmaidens began sharing with Esri and Rhosland more secrets about the land that they were on, about where to find good mushrooms and what they looked like and what they tasted like and herbs and especially where to find the best shellfish which was in the biggest river more north, closer to Hurricane Breaker as Tilge promised Rhos and Esri that they would tell the rest of the army and the clan that Rhos and Esri were here and to leave them alone and to give them a wide berth in order so that they could hunt successfully and take care of their widowed mother and that they meant no harm which Rhos and Esri greatly appreciated. 

Tilge even told Rhos how there was a wild rose bush nearby that should be blooming and a special group of trees that had special nuts that were very oily, that they called Butternut because once you ate the delicious fruit and found the big nut inside, and crushed and ground up the nuts into a paste and cooked the nut paste, their oil would come pouring out and once it got skimmed the oil from the paste and the oil got cold and solidified, it looked like butter and it was really great for making soap with and that they could make wild rose soap with it since that’s what Tilge and the other women in Hurricane Breaker did when they wanted to smell nice and also found the wild citronella weed and told them about the five other bee hives around them that they could get honey and then use the wax from the hives and the crushed up citronella into an oil to make a special candle that would keep the mosquitoes away too before they told Rhos and Esri about the old cursed cave made of stone that was nearby that was most definitely haunted and not to go anywhere near there and Rhos gave Tilge one of the pearl necklaces she was wearing to signify their friendship and alliance that Tilge happily accepted as Esri gave Tilge one of her carved shell totem bracelets as Tilge gave them a citronella candle to keep them safe from the mosquitos and the malaria that the mosquitos carried and agreed to the alliance as well before Tilge and her warband of shieldmaidens left in peace and happiness with full bellies as the fog soon fully lifted and cleared as they went back to the warzone to pillage from the fallen as those who didn’t fall had run home to tell everyone else the news of the defeat as Rhos and Esri came back into the tent.

“Thank you so much, you handled them perfectly, I doubt they suspected a thing.” Drad thanked Rhosland once she came back in to see him sitting there, with his weapons in hand just in case Tilge and her shield maidens had poked their noses into the tent and once he saw that it was Rhos and Esri, he and his brother put their weapons down and off to the side.  

“You’re welcome, how are you feeling?” She asked.

“Much better, those herbs are helping so much, they’re taking most of the pain away. We would have been lost for sure without you. Thank you.” Drad thanked her.

“You’re welcome.” Rhos offered as she continued to dress his remaining wounds as Drad and his brother tried to take off their broken armor and most of their clothes so that their many wounds could be attended to before Drad got into his pack and gave Rhosland the rose scented soap. 

“For you.” He said as he offered it to her as she took it and unwrapped it and smiled when the wonderful scent soon bloomed in their tent as she could clearly see the dried pink rose petals in the soap itself. 

“Rose scented soap.” Rhos smiled and couldn’t help but laugh before she used it to help clean his wounds so that they wouldn’t get dirty as the cloth it was wrapped in made the best wash cloth, soft and fine enough to wash the wounds without ripping or damaging them.  

“Thank you.” Rhos offered as she was cleaning off his back. 

“You were supposed use it on yourself though.” Drad offered even though the scent was heavenly and having her dress his wounds was surprisingly intimate this time since it was just the four of them. 

“I will, but your wounds need to be cleaned first, I can’t lose you to infection or gangrene.” Rhos gently countered.  

“If I survived an unwitting attack on Hurricane Breaker, I doubt anything can ever take me from you from now on.” Drad managed to say as Esri’s jaw was on the floor of the tent as she looked to Rhos who was frozen again, but instead of it being fear, it was just pleasant surprise before Rhos simply smiled and leaned forward and pulled him back so he was leaning against her chest and pulled his face to the side and claimed his mouth with her own as her answer as that seemed to settle the matter before she had him sit back up so she could finish cleaning him up as she brushed off any dirt or debris from the bed so he could lay back down and rest as Esri had done the same since the bedrolls were side by side before she got out and went to gather more water before she heard Esri’s giggle before Esri came back out. 

“And?” Rhos asked as they came back to the river to get fresh water and dump the now dirty water away.  

“And my dream came true, just like yours did.” Esri giggled as they got their new empty baskets and went over to the bigger river with the net and found it was teaming with giant mussels, scallops, clams, little lobsters and crabs and other shellfish as both girls used their hunting knives to knock the mussels free from where they were anchored and put them in the baskets that were now practically overflowing before they found a giant catfish in a hole in the water and caught it and killed it and dragged it towards their camp site and started cleaning them up.

When they opened the giant clams and mussels and found all of the mussels completely laden with all these huge, beautiful, bright pearls of all colors but mostly of gold, peacock, black, purple, pink and blue pearls, pink pearls were a sign of passion, but also the deeper the pink and the closer to red, meant signs for a male child, made in love and passion. Purple pearls were was a sign of prosperity and wealth of resources like food, clothing and shelter, gold pearls meant tangible wealth, like gold and other riches. Peacock pearls meant multifaceted protection and care, especially between a bonded pair. Blue pearls were a sign of wisdom and insight, black pearls meant independence and strength, as even most of the clams had pearls too as both girls happily took them and quickly put all the pearls into their pockets which were threatening to overflow before tossing the meat in the pot to cook up a seafood stew again, using what was left of the herbs as flavoring and the other smoked fish to make a good broth before they loaded up their bowls and brought it inside to Drad and Sarg gratefully ate it and sucked it down but refused to eat any more until the girls had their fill which Rhos and Esri appreciated as they did and Drad and Sarg happily ate the rest as Rhos and Esri washed all the pearls that had been in them before they each presented the biggest and finest of the pearls to Drad and Sarg so they wouldn’t have to go home empty handed which Drad and Sarg happily agreed to accept before the girls brought the deer hides into the entrance of the tent to sleep on those so that Drad and Sarg could continue to sleep on their bed rolls comfortably while the large blanket was barely big enough to fit over the four of them sleeping like that. 

“Drad?” Rhos whispered once Sarg and Esri had fallen asleep and were softly snoozing. 

“Yeah?” He answered, keeping his voice to a whisper too.  

“How did you know to follow the scent of smoking venison?” Rhos asked. 

“Rhos, I care for you enough to never lie to you.” Drad began. 

“I trust you enough to know that you never would either.” Rhos answered as Drad smiled as softly as Rhos did the same in the darkness. 

“Two nights ago, right after we parted from the marsh, an old shaman by the name of Orcoth came into the village, he was hobbling and obviously in pain as he walked and I helped him, I took him to my home and he gave me that rose scented soap and he said that it was what I had promised to give you in my heart which only a shaman with great magic could have discerned that, even though I had wanted to give you more than just one bar, I had wanted to get you a whole case but just that one bar was all I needed at the moment and he told me that the day of the raid, that it would be so foggy that I wouldn’t be able to find my way, but that the scent of smoking venison would, and that if I followed the scent, I would find salvation. And that’s exactly what happened. Zash and all of his sons were arguing and bickering the whole time and our whole party got turned around several times so that we didn’t know what way was up and the others were getting irritated by the confusing leadership and then when the fog cleared up partially, it revealed that we were completely surrounded and outnumbered at least twenty to one and then the fog closed in on us as did Hurricane Breaker. And I was just swinging blindly before I got knocked off my horse as did Sarg and once I was on the ground I just kept trying to keep Sarg at my back and when we both got partially cut down, I caught the whiff of your smoking venison and Orcoth’s words were called back to my mind and so Sarg and I followed the scent of the venison, it had the most bizarre route in the fog but in hindsight, the route kept us out of sight and sound of the rest of Hurricane Breaker and just as the scent got strongest and straightened out, we were far away from the warzone and when the fog partially lifted, we were here.” Drad confessed as Rhos remembered the wind in the fog the night before and how the wind had seemed to come in from all sides as she realized now, that it was fate, that even when Zash and Tar led their raiding party astray, that Orchoth knew how to save Drad and knew that because Drad had been so kind and hospitable, that- that, is what saved his life and Sarg’s life and led them straight to Esri and herself. And only a shaman with the gift of true prophecy would have been able to predict that. 

“Well when we get back, I’ll have to meet him and thank him for giving you a prophecy that saved not just your life but Sarg’s as well which I know Esri would be lost without him.” Rhos offered. 

“You will, we adopted each other. He said he had already lost all of his sons and readily adopted me and I- him, after he gave me the soap and told me about today.” He answered. 

“Do you think anyone else in Zash’s raiding party made it?” Rhos asked thoughtfully. 

“I don’t know, I don’t think so.” Drad answered. 

“Well I hope Shadi and Baka have sons then, because otherwise Skull Screamer will be leaderless.” Rhos pointed out tiredly as Drad realized she had a point and realized that if Sarg and himself could get back and as long as no one else in Zarsh’s personal warband had lived, since Drad was himself second in command to Tar who was first born, that he was now the highest ranking survivor and they could claim the status of Warchief and Warlord of the clan and Orcoth would be the clan’s shaman since the other had been killed since Zash had taken his own with him and had died right alongside him.  

Drad realized he could actually start a new clan, with whatever was left of Skull Screamer and whoever else wanted to join, with Rhos as his wife and warchieftess, his one and only. Even if Shadi and Baka ruled in Tar’s place until their sons grew of age. He could start his own clan. All he needed was a name. It needed to be big and grand and fill those who were part of it- with confidence. And those who weren’t, with fear. Something not at all realated to Skull Screamer but something Breaker. Hurricane Breaker was already taken. So was Typhoon Breaker. So...storm? Stormbreaker? Yes. Stormbreaker, that sounded right in his head as he smiled happily and fell asleep to a dream like fantasy of being Clan Chief or even a Warchief, of Rhos being his Clan Chieftess or even Warchieftess and felt confident that it would work, all he need to do was heal, which judging by the way his wounds were already healing faster with Rhos’ medicine than they normally would was the best sign that she would continue to heal him and care for him.

#Of Heaven and Fire Prequel #The Beginning of Stormbreaker Part 2 #orcs #orc love story #orctober 2021

[inkabelledesigns]

Bendy: Dreams Come To Life, but as an Isekai?

Okay, so I’ve had this idea for a few weeks now, and I want to ramble about it. So late one night, I was chatting with my friends, and I threw something down in our ideas chat that a lot of us jumped right on. 

What if you had a story where someone from modern times woke up in the body of Sammy Lawrence, within the context of DCTL? 

This lead to a long series of discussions, and I think I have a grasp on what I want to create now. I’ve got a prologue ready and a first chapter in the works for a fanfic, but I need to go and reread DCTL to make sure I’m remembering the details right. 

https://www.definitions.net/definition/isekai 

So what is an isekai? I wasn’t too familiar with the term before chatting with folks about it, but this link should give you an idea as to what it is. Some isekai stories focus on a character that is transported to a fictional world, but others will put them in the role of a character that already exists in that piece of fiction, which is closer to what I’m doing. You ever heard of that manga where some guy was reincarnated as Yamcha in Dragon Ball Z, and then drastically changed Yamcha’s role throughout the series because he knew everything that was going to happen? That’s kind of what I’m doing here. 

My story focuses on 24 year-old Samantha Lorenzo, an animation nerd who obsesses over BATIM with her roommate, Janet Fey (credit to @fiddle-dee-dee777 for the names, it’s a clever parallel!) Sam is an active theorizer who loves picking apart the Bendy lore, while also being a huge nerd for stuff like DnD and classic films. She’s read up to the ending of The Illusion of Living and is currently working to pick apart the details, when out of nowhere, her life is flipped upside down. She wakes up one morning in the body of Sammy Lawrence, within the time that DCTL takes place, a little before Buddy shows up. Once she realizes that this is in fact not a dream, she tries to prevent Sammy from getting drenched in ink and protect Buddy from his inevitable downfall, but that’s far harder than it seems. 

On the flipside, 1946 Sammy Lawrence wakes up in the body of a recent college graduate, confused as to where he is, why he’s wearing a nightgown, and generally having an existential crisis until Janet comes to his rescue. Jan takes care of Sammy while he’s in Samantha’s body, which forces him to acknowledge that, as far as they’re concerned, he’s a fictional character. So while Samantha is trying to save everyone, Sammy and Jan are unraveling the mystery of how this happened, how to fix it, as well as indulging in various shenanigans. 

Bottom line: It’s a damn fun story, and I don’t want this one to be something I fizzle out on, because it’s just such a good time. But in order to be confident in it, I need to really hammer down what happens in DCTL, it’s been so long since I’ve read it that I forgot some things. Like I’m here questioning if I’ve put the infirmary in the right part of the building, the building layout is so hard to keep track of for someone as directionally challenged as me (and if you know of anyone who’s mapped it out, please send it my way, I’d really appreciate it). Obviously I’m not gonna be completely canon compliant, it’s a fanfiction, I’m allowed to have a little fun. But at the same time, I wanna make sure I’m doing this media justice.

There are a few things I’d like to get out of the way. Big one: I’m including Jack. I don’t know at what point Jack is out of the picture, since we get no mention of him in DCTL, but we know he’s alive in 1943, which is only three years before. I want him to be there, hell, I’d love to have a moment where Samantha unknowingly prevents his death, but we’ll see. That’s the other thing about this fic. I dunno if you guys have noticed, but I’m a nutcase when it comes to Bendy. A lot of what I’m putting into Samantha definitely comes from my own over-analysis of this world, where she’s looking at it as trying to give these characters the best ending possible. This girl is packed with all the knowledge that I have of this franchise, and she’s gonna use it to her full advantage to manipulate the outcome. But knowing the world of Bendy does not mean knowing the day-to-day lives of these characters. As I’ve discovered in starting to write this, Sammy Lawrence not knowing where the bathroom is in a place he’s worked at for a long time is kind of sus. XD So part of the challenge is getting Sam to accept that this is more than a story, these are real people in-world that she’s tampering with the lives of. 

The last thing to note is that I want to make it hard for Samantha to prove she’s not Sammy. At first, I want her to just appear to be a bit off, but hey, Sammy’s quirky, so it could just come off as him having an off day. But part of living in Sammy’s body means dealing with some lingering things from him, such as his skills as a musician and feelings towards some of the characters/subjects. So when asked to prove that she’s somehow not Sammy, it’s really, really hard to be convincing. One moment I had in mind was Jack coming out and asking her the time signature on one of his favorite pieces to prove it, and she blurts out the right answer and quickly covers her mouth in horror. 

I’ve also considered playing with other characters having nightmares of things they couldn’t possibly have experienced, which starts to put some things into question. And this has its pros and cons. Buddy having nightmares of being Boris? Oh god that would be fun to write. But then possibly having Joey learn what’s coming? Oh that would affect things a lot. That’s one of the things I’m eager to play with: Sam has to be careful of who has what knowledge when it comes to what’s going to happen in the future to these characters. Certain characters learning things and sharing them with others could be incredibly dangerous. 

So yeah, that’s my rambling about a fanfic idea that’s currently in the works. Thank you for indulging me! I’d love to talk about it more and bounce ideas around, so hit me up if you’re interested in chatting. Goodness knows I’ve had fun sharing it with my smaller groups (and a huge thank you to all of you for indulging my craziness on this, I really appreciate having you along for the ride!) 

But of course, I gotta tell you the title. Right now, I’m calling it Nightmares Are Reality, a nice parody of Dreams Come to Life, I think. I look forward to exploring this nightmare with you!

#nightmares are reality #bendy and the ink machine #batim fanfic #bendy fanfic #dctl #bendy dreams come to life #sammy lawrence #buddy lewek #Jack Fain #samantha lorenzo #janet fey #also if anyone can guess the animation reference in Samantha's last name I will be impressed #isekai #bendy isekai

[grubbysprivatebar]

Grubby's Private Bar

Chapter 5

By the time Iggy woke up, I had caught up on all the reactions and comments to Bekki’s video on PeerPub. I’d also downloaded the app and brought myself up to speed on how it worked and the various ways people utilized it. I found and followed Bekki, as well as anyone else I knew that had an account. When Iggy finally got up, I gave him some time to come around before drawing his attention to people’s reactions. I’d made a pot of coffee, so when he finally walked over and took a seat on the outside of the bar, I was already sitting on the inside with a cup for each of us.

“Thanks brother,” he said as I slid it across to him.

“No problem,” I nodded, “When you’re awake enough, check out the comments on Bekki’s videos.” He wasn’t fully awake, but that didn’t stop him from pulling his phone out as he sipped on his cup. Scrolling through the comments, he began setting his coffee back down.

“Dude,” he looked up at me, “this is huge.” I shared in Iggy’s excitement but knowing the direction he was going to take it, I had already begun preparing myself to temper him. “We need to build on this,” he said looking back down at this phone and re-reading the comments. It was Iggy’s dream to be a rock star. His life up to that point had consisted of failed attempts to become a functioning member of society without any real hope of stability or consistency. He’d gotten in legal trouble a few times over the years as a result of his adventurous and impulsive tendencies, and his safe space was always the bar scene or stage. Though he had an extensive history gigging and being in bands, the fact that he wasn’t currently playing with anyone had created a huge void. The lack of attention, energy and praise in his life had made the present situation even more ripe for his fervor.

“In what way?” I asked. You could see him trying to keep up with the thoughts in his head.

“More videos!” he exclaimed. I was starting to regret giving him caffeine. “If people liked that video that much without any practice or buzz, think about what we could do if we actually tried!” I considered what he was saying for a moment. I wasn’t interested in starting a full-on band, but if he just wanted to get together a couple times a week and play, it could be fun.

“I don’t know that I have the time or energy to commit to something big, but if you just want to come over and play every couple days I can do that,” I tried to let him down easy, “if someone like you or Bekki streams it, I’m cool with that too.” His demeanor shifted a little. He seemed to want to protest, but realizing he’d probably already come on too strong, he nodded instead.

“Ya,” he agreed, “we can just play for people watching and see what happens.” I could tell he was still trying to set the foundation for something ambitious, but as long as I could stay in my comfort zone, it felt unnecessary to further clarify my position. “We need a name,” he leaned back.

“A name?” I asked.

“Ya, for our band,” he started looking around the room for ideas. Before I could respond, he sought to clarify. “I mean even if we are just playing here in the bar, we need something people can call us.”

“Like a house band,” I said.

“Exactly,” he replied, “What are you doing later?”

“I don’t think I have any plans,” I said trying to remember.

“Let’s run out to the farm!” he exclaimed. There were probably a couple hundred farms within a dozen miles of us, but I knew immediately which one he meant.

Decades prior, just after Skylar had moved away and met the guys that would become his bandmates in Call Vert, he brought them back to our area on a spur of the moment road trip. None of them were from or had seen a place like ours. Fascinated by the landscape and structures, they wanted to see as much of it as possible while they were there. When Skylar was growing up, there was a pond located on a farm that he and a few of his friends would sneak onto and fish. Wanting to feed his new bandmates hunger for the local experience, they drove one night to the pond via a little known entrance on the back of the property. They turned their lights off to keep from being noticed by the occupants of the house in the distance and the driver began navigating the lane by sticking his head out of the window to see better. They’d been creeping along for a minute or two when Skylar yelled “Culvert!” from the front passenger side. Someone in the back responded, “Who’s Vert?” just before the car slammed to a halt.

Their car had hit a concrete slab along the lane that marked the presence of a large drain running beneath the ground. The drain allowed a flow of water to continue uninterrupted, as well as for people and vehicles a way to cross over it. While the drain itself was what was known as a culvert, locals referred to the concrete pillar that indicated it was there as a culvert as well. Skylar’s companions had never heard the term, so when he attempted to warn the driver that he was about to hit one, they misheard him as saying “Call Vert,” as if Vert was the name of an individual he wanted them to call. While they all left the scene unscathed, the whole situation represented the first substantial experience they would have together.

Years later, when a journalist asked Skylar where the band came up with their name, he recounted the story for them. Once the article was published, the locals got wind of it and immediately sought to find the infamous culvert. Several of Skylar’s childhood friends confirmed the location of the property, and as the legend grew, area youth and fans of Call Vert began sneaking onto the property as if it was a rite of passage or pilgrimage. The farm had changed hands a couple times over the years, but the current owners had embraced the history of the band and its legacy. It was widely known that as long as the sun was up, anyone could visit the property. Area musicians began emulating the legend of Call Vert, and when it came time to name a new band, the members would visit the farm to seek inspiration. It was considered both good luck and an homage to Skylar. This is the process Iggy was invoking by suggesting we visit the farm.

“Ok,” I said. Iggy was ecstatic, but not because we were going to the farm. He had undoubtedly been there many times before with other bands he’d joined or started. The excitement in his face was a result of having something he could daydream about. Something he hoped could bring him the kind of success he’d obsessed over since he was old enough to have conscious thoughts.

“Seriously?” he sat up. I nodded. “Dude,” he reached across the table for a half embrace. I obliged and then leaned back in my chair to take a sip of coffee. “Okay,” he looked around for his jacket, “I’m going to run home. I’ll hit you up in a bit.”

“Sounds good man,” I said as he got up and scurried out the door.

Once Iggy had been gone for a few minutes, I went outside to examine the yard barn. Everything looked pretty much the same in the daylight as it had the night before. If anything had been stolen, I didn’t know what it was. The items that I could remember keeping in there were still there. It began to dawn on me that an animal might have found its way inside and knocked things down, and perhaps even gotten caught up in the extension cord, dragging it out frantically as it attempted to escape. After putting most things back in their place, I closed the door and went inside.

Several hours had passed and I was straightening the basement when I heard a knock on the door. Looking up, I saw Bekki standing there waving at me. I motioned her in and then placed a blanket I had just folded inside an ottoman.

“If you see me in here, just come in,” I said sitting down on the couch as she walked in, “don’t even knock.” She nodded and then plopped down on a love seat that sat perpendicular to me.

“What a weekend,” she said laying her head back and staring at the ceiling.

“I know,” I laughed, “I’m tired. I think I need a couple days to recover.”

“Ya,” she chuckled and then lifted her head, “what did Iggy think about the comments on PeerPub?”

“What do you think he thought?” I asked.

“That good?” she smiled bigger.

“Well, we’re going to the farm later if that’s any indication,” I replied.

“What?” she sat up, “the farm?!”

“Ya,” I nodded, “I guess we’re officially the house band for Grubby’s Private Bar thanks to you.”

“But the farm?” she replied, “that’s serious business! Especially for someone like Iggy who’s been a part of the scene for a while.”

“I’m just humoring him,” I explained, “he was so excited at the video reactions and I didn’t want to break his spirit. I think he needs something going on in his life. I can bridge the gap for him until something else comes along, as long as all I have to do is sit down here and play a few songs.”

“I had a dream there was a concert here in the cul de sac the other night, but maybe it was a premonition,” she laughed, “Except it wasn’t in your basement. It was on a small stage in front of Carter’s house.” As soon as Bekki said that I was hit with vivid images of what she’d just described.

“I think I did too,” I said gazing off into the floor.

“Really?” she sat up a bit.

“Ya,” I nodded, “I can see the stage in front of Carter’s house with a bunch of people in front of it.”

“What does the stage look like?” she asked.

“Like a…like a trailer kind of,” I said trying to remember, “with wheels under it.”

“Yes!” she moved up to the edge of the love seat, “Exactly! We had a Gemini dream!”

“A what,” I asked.

“A Gemini dream,” she explained, “we had the same dream.”

“I’m not sure it was even a dream,” I looked up at her, “If it was, this is the first time I’ve remembered it since it happened.”

“You described the stage,” she said, “and sometimes you don’t remember dreams until something brings it back to the front of your mind.”

“I guess…maybe,” I replied, “that’s a lot to take in right now.”

She smiled and stood up to stretch her legs. Looking around she began inspecting the walls the way she had the first time she was there. Walking along the interior wall, she pulled the drape back and turned the corner into the back room. I got up and followed. Built into one short wall was a bookshelf that housed a couple hundred books I’d amassed over the years. She ran her fingers along their spines as she inspected the titles. Her fingers stopped on one and she slid it out of its spot. After inspecting the cover art, she opened it to the first page.

“It’s signed,” she said, holding it up.

“My best friend wrote it,” I said, holding it like a priceless keepsake.

“Your best friend is an author?” her voice indicated surprise.

“He was,” I said.

“He doesn’t write anymore?” she asked.

“He’s gone,” I said looking up at her and handing the book back.

“Oh...I’m sorry,” she put one hand over her mouth and took the book from me with the other.

“Thanks,” I said.

“What’s it about?” she asked placing it back on the shelf.

“Eh, it’s got a lot of conspiracy theory and paranormal stuff in it,” I explained.

“Oh. My. Gosh,” she said drawing her words out, “I’m all about conspiracy theories.”

“You can borrow the book if you want,” I nodded in its direction.

“I might grab it later,” she said, “that’s cool though. What kind of conspiracies?”

“It’s kind of all over the place,” I explained, “stuff like shadow governments and alternative history.”

“That’s my jam!” she said excitedly, “I watch hours and hours of that stuff.”

“On what?” I asked.

“Generally social media,” she answered

“I never got into conspiracies much,” I said, “My buddy would talk about them a lot, but they just never really appealed to me.”

“Well maybe you just never heard the right ones,” she smiled.

“Maybe,” I smiled back, “You can try me sometime.”

“Ya?” she got excited.

“Sure,” I agreed.

“Hell ya!” she exclaimed, “We can do it over drinks or coffee.

“Sounds good,” I smiled.

“Cool,” she uttered almost euphorically. She held her gaze, but it became apparent after a few moments that she wasn’t looking at me, but rather through me. In her head somewhere, she was playing out our future conspiracy related conversations. Waving my hand in front of her face, she snapped out of it. “Sorry,” she said bashfully, “I was lost for a moment.”

“I know,” I laughed, “It’s all good.” At that moment there was a knock on the door and she followed me back into the other room. It was Iggy. Once he saw us through the window, he went ahead and walked in.

“What were you two doing back there?” he teased.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Bekki shot back at him. Iggy gasped like something scandalous was going on and placed his hand over the middle of his chest.

“She was looking at my books,” I interjected.

“And talking conspiracies,” Bekki jumped in excitedly.

“Ohhh. That is scandalous,” Iggy leaned against the bar.

“Bekki was talking conspiracies,” I added, “I know very little about them.”

“But he said I could teach him!” she jumped in.

“Not until we get back from the farm though, right?” Iggy asked, taking a step towards the door.

“Probably not today,” I said, “I’m still recuperating from the last two nights.

“Sounds good,” she said getting ready to follow us out, “I want to hear your band name as soon as you pick it!”

“We’re not a band,” I objected.

“You got it,” Iggy said over his shoulder as we began heading out.

Iggy and I would spend the better part of the evening at the farm. When it came time to pick a band name, I let him have the final word. I wasn’t as invested as him, and as a result, only shot down a couple of his suggestions. We settled on the name “Wherehouse” after Iggy lost his sense of direction on the property and couldn’t figure out which way the house was. He had tried to say, “Where’s the house,” but it came out “Where house?” We laughed about it for a minute before drawing a parallel to how multiple people had asked where we were streaming from on Bekki’s PeerPub videos the night before. It became a reference to both the house on the farm, as well as my house where the basement bar was. I didn’t love the name, but it was clever and relevant. We discussed it on the way back to the car, and as the sun was beginning to go down over the horizon, made it official. As soon as we shook on it, I called Bekki so she could share in the moment with us.

When we got back to the cul de sac, Iggy dropped me off in front of my house and then motored on down to his own. I hadn’t locked the door behind us when we left, so I opted to enter through the bar. As I turned the corner around the back of the house, I noticed a fire at my neighbor’s house across the backyard. I didn’t see anyone, so I stood and watched it, eventually becoming entranced by the flames. After a few moments, I was hit with an eerie feeling as if I was being watched and decided to retreat into the bar. Once inside, I laid down on the couch in the back room and fell asleep.

#basement bar #grubbys private bar #bar #music #history #social media #farm #pond #farm pond #conspiracy theories #paranormal