#beginning recovery it feels really good to be able to put all of it into art instead of just boiling over inside and getting even sicker

[telogen]

[solbaby7]

Nothing Even Matters

pairing: cassian x reader

warnings: swearing, probably typos, some angst, mentions of trauma, some fluff

summary: When the only thing you want during your recovery is the very person who put you there in the first place.

[ part one ]

—

“How’s it feel?”

“Fuck you,” You seethe through your teeth, words slurred from the wires holding your jaw shut—only for a few days, they said with remorse but all you could feel was such all-consuming rage. Such intense anger because you couldn’t move your body how you wanted; your arm was stiff in the tight bandaging holding it to your body while the dislocation and fractures healed.

Azriel glanced over at Rhysand who was offering Madja a sheepish smile, hands tucked in his pockets as he stood beside you. “Believe it or not, that was a lot nicer than some of the other words she’s been stringing together.”

“She shouldn’t be talking at all. Healing from a broken jaw is no easy feat—talking before the bone properly sets can lead to us needing to rebreak it all over again.” The heated glare you send her way could’ve killed if they were sharpened swords and Azriel has to step in front of you to ease the stormcloud you were casting above the room. Madja doesn’t seem to mind, urging the spymaster to step aside while she began her assessment. “Follow my finger,” Your eyes narrow with hate but you comply after a beat of time. “Good, no noticeable neurological deficits,” She scribbles something in a notepad, noting down the amount of pain meds you’d been receiving and an update of your vitals. “Your swelling seems to have gone down significantly—does it still hurt when I touch here?”

The High Lord cringes at the stream of profanities that slam at the edge of his mind; an act you’d been subconsciously doing since the moment the tonics for the pain had worn off the first time three days ago. You’d shoved your anguish out as far as it would go, so hard Rhysand had choked on a breath, hands clenching at his sides as he put forth more effort than normal to keep his mental shields up. “She says yes.”

Your hand taps once at Azriel’s arm and when he looks at you, you give him a jerky nod of your head. “She wants to know when she can go home?”

Madja lowers the notebook, voice annoyingly calm and full of understanding; not deterred by your attitude in the slightest. In fact, she seems to expect it, smiling softly before speaking, “Have you been eating?”

Your hand slams down twice on the table before you.

It’s jarring; aggression was never something you’d displayed often, if ever, but Azriel only takes a step closer, nearly sitting on the edge of your cot with an arm wrapped around the back of your pillow.

“I’ll assume that’s a yes.” Madja continues writing, bullet pointing your behavior and way you reel in your snark for the shadowsinger beside you. “Have you been able to get to the bathroom on your own?”

Two more slams against the table but these are much harsher than the first, a cup full of water splashing at the sides and Azriel lets out a sigh. “Not on her own but she’s really close. The dizziness just gets to her when she’s standing for too long.”

Rhysand spares a glance at the towering frame standing in the corner behind them absorbing every word like a child experiencing the world for the first time. Cassian had been unbearably quiet, avoiding Azriel at all costs but he was the first who’d noticed you beginning to stir awake. He’d barely left, always getting caught with a rag and warm water, dragging at your skin gentler than fingertips on flower petals. Rhys had to knock Cass out himself when the med staff came to take you away, advising that the wiring was imperative but the General couldn’t stop screaming about how you’d already been through enough; about how you deserved a full day of peace before putting you through even more pain.

“Any other symptoms besides the dizziness?”

You hesitate, heated gaze faltering for a beat of time before you’re slamming your hand down once and Cassian waits a full thirty seconds; golden eyes boring into Azriel’s back, urging him to mention the nausea, the splitting headaches that had you gripping at the first hand you came in contact with for any sort of comfort.

But, Azriel doesn’t say a thing.

“That’s good, what about—“

“Headaches,” Cassian’s voice is raspy with such little use and he’s more than grateful for the brace preventing you from moving around too much because he’s certain one of those sickeningly sharp glares were being specially crafted with his name on it. “She gets headaches and throws up sometimes because of one of the tonics—it’s orange.”

Madja, ever the professional hums in acknowledgment, scribbling down more notes and a furrow grows at her brow. “Could be an allergy or maybe the mixture is too much on your stomach without solid foods yet,” She not even talking to you, just muttering her thoughts aloud while the others tense; awaiting your reaction. They wait for the ball to drop; wait for the throwing of the first item in sight. It wouldn’t have been the first time and Az’s shadows had gotten surprisingly good at predicting it, darkness darting before the window before you could smash it to pieces since Madja insisted she’d dock any damages from your pay. “Thank you, General, that was quite helpful.”

A full minute passes and still, there’s no yelling; no frustrated grunts or shouting in your mind—just utter silence and you’re too busy settling further into your pillow to notice Rhys’ curious stare.

“If you can manage no talking for seventy-two hours then I will clear you to finish your recovery from home,” You’re nodding before she can finish, Azriel gently pushing you back when you try to sit up in your excitement. “I mean it—I’ll know if you aren’t taking the physical therapy seriously. At least an hour of walking a day ; slowly so you don’t aggravate your ribs and I’ll take off the shoulder wrap if you swear not to do any heavy lifting of any kind.” You throw her a pointed look, a hand waving around to motion at the three men that had been permanently stationed around you.

“We’ll take good care of her.”

Madja exhales a steady breath, hands resting at her sides and way she regards you is nearly motherly; relief settling into her features when she can confidently say you’ll make it. “Then, I suppose you’re free to go.”

—

“Come on she said at least an hour.”

Azriel is a sturdy pillar before you, arms crossed and shadows incessantly tug at the thick duvet you’d been grasping at like your life depended on it since he barged in ten minutes ago. You grunt in disapproval, settling deeper into the mattress and you shield your eyes from the bright light steadily pouring through—even though you remembered closing the curtains last night.

“You’ve already skipped breakfast and lunch; it’s nearly three in the afternoon. Get up.”

Your inability to speak seems to work in your favor because all you offer Az in return is a hand peeking from the covers to flip him off.

A pause and one eye pries open when you hear footsteps retreating. Five minutes pass, then five more before you relax back into the fluffy pillows, dragging the covers up to your chin and a content smile curves at the corner of your mouth for a fraction of a second before your entire body is drenched in freezing cold water.

You lurch from the bed like a creature rising from the dead, feet bare and legs on full display when you slowly stare up at the pleased shadowsinger, eyes wide and arms frozen in surprise as you dripped all over the floor like a wet dog. “Good. Since you’re up and showered, let’s go downstairs and get you something to eat.” Azriel’s looping an arm in your own and leading you out before you even have time to change, sloshing footsteps left in your wake and when you enter the sitting room Mor has to slap a hand over her mouth to hide the laughter.

“Looks like someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed.”

It’s harmless teasing; friendly laughs and eyes lined with water when they mention the rats nest atop your head but Cassian’s boisterous laugh doesn’t join in on the fun. He takes one look at you and quietly leaves the room; he'd been doing that a lot since the accident—ever so present when you weren't consious and practically non-existent when you were.

You catch Feyre staring at the bruises on your neck, the thick bandage stuck in place on your temple, how stiff your posture was from the tight wrappings securing your ribs in place and she flushes when you offer her a tight-lipped smile, trying to appear more sturdy than you looked. "Sit, I'll get your food."

Eyes roll at Az's choice of words, easing over to the couch with a low grunt. Food was a sorry excuse for whatever the fuck you'd been sentenced to consume until the wires were removed. A thick porridge like substance with a distinct grit that lingered on your tongue no matter how much water you chased it with.

It was nice to be home though, to sleep in your own bed and being able to ease the tension with a hot bath and a stealthily stolen glass of wine—even if it was impossible to wash your hair or to change your clothes without assistance. Fresh air breezes through the windows, ruffling the curtains and the High Lord is quick to dry your clothes with a wave of his hand. With nothing more than a quick touch to his shoulder in thanks, the others watch you brace your weight against things to get to the hallway, turning left in the same direction Cass had gone earlier.

It’s not hard to find him, cooped up in his room with a glass of amber liquid in hand; eyes trained on the crackling fire. “What are you doing in here?” He’s up in a flash, wings pulled tight behind him and a broad shoulder urges your good arm around his neck, warm hands are careful when lifting you off your feet and carrying you over to the neatly made bed against the wall. Pillows are stacked behind your back to prop you up in a way that didn’t agitate your ribs and you give a sad smile when Cassian’s eyes linger on the bruises that were steadily healing up the length of your legs and he’s carefully covering them in blankets with a shaky breath.

Usually, he’d have sat next to you but now you’re unbearably aware of the distance he puts between you; hands clutched at his sides like he was physically restraining himself from reaching out to touch. “You eat yet?” A slow shake of your head and Cass lets out a little chuckle in understanding. “Not surprised, that shit’s gross. Az never was that good in the kitchen.”

Everything smells like him; male and musk, cedarwood and bourbon. It’s overwhelming in the best way and years of memories begin to flood your senses; countless late nights spent in here drinking and laughing about nothing. Lazy mornings with breakfast in bed and amused snorts over buttered toast and tea when the Illyrian boasted about his latest conquest or earned accomplishments but then would go sheepish when you’d genuinely told him you were proud of him—happy that he seemed happy.

Cassian shifts his weight from foot to foot, unable to meet your eye because you were gazing at him so lovingly; not an ounce of hate in sight and guilt bubbles in his belly like curdled milk. “Don’t go anywhere, I’ll make you something.”

A few minutes pass of you examining the room before you notice there’s a bottle of whiskey on the bedside table and your brows furrow in worry. You’re grabbing it without second thought, shoving the bottle under the bed frame and out of sight before you hear the thudding footsteps coming down the hall and through the doorway. A goblet of a glass is clutched in one hand with a metal straw hanging over the rim; he rambles off some of the fruits he used while he walks over, gently settling it in your hands. Fingers graze and in the blink of an eye he’s already taken three steps worth of space between you but the berry smoothie is a significant upgrade from Azriel’s porridge mixture—little wins. This was sweet but not too sweet, thick enough to quell the rumbling in your stomach and thin enough to push through the gaps in the wires with ease. It’s half gone quicker than you care to admit but Cass seems pleased, yet the small smile he wears is quickly wiped off when you motion for him to sit next to you.

“I can’t.”

Brows scrunch together in silent question, head tilting to the side.

His face crumples, features lined with stress and it’s then you notice just how broken he appears—sure, maybe he didn’t have the bandages and wrappings but the damage was still there. “Look at you, peach,” Tears well at the pet name, your head lowering as if it could possibly hide the ugly bruising on your neck; it was the only spot that seemed to be taking forever to get better, a kaleidoscope of purples and deep blues. “Look what I’ve done to you,” Breath catches and you ache to comfort him when he doesn’t even bother to hold his wings off the ground. “I’m so sorry.”

Cassian only moves closer when you set the cup down and make way to stand; it’s then he sits near you, urging you back down and you see the way his throat bobs with the thick swallow when your hand gently rests over his own. Words aren’t needed to express how much you didn’t blame him; not anymore—not after the nights he’d spent hunched over your bedside spewing out confessions of his feelings. The unconditional love that never stopping pouring over when it came to you and the shameful jealousy that had followed. Secrets he’d kept in fear that you didn’t return the same affections; terrified to ruin the carefully crafted friendship that took centuries to perfect. To become an extension of the other and adding his feelings seemed messy—too complicated and then all of this. You and the sounds of your cries for help permanently branded at the forefront of his mind for all eternity. Waiting in anticipation for Madja’s updates on your health, how you were fairing and if there was any lasting brain damage; a burden he was fully prepared to bare for you. Willing to sit by your side with his fingers kneeding through your hair to soothe away the headache he knew was coming in from the scrunch of your nose even after being pumped full of pain relievers.

It seems fitting that you can’t voice what you know; the pieces that you’d held onto while stuck in your mind. Body too numb to even pry your eyes open but the hope of hearing it while conscious was a strong enough anchor to have you clawing to the surface—back to Cass and those lazy mornings and tea with entirely too much honey.

He’s a mess when you pull him in closer, brushing your fingers through his hair the same way he’d done for you. You can feel the feather light kisses he presses to the exposed injuries, silent tears dripping on your skin, hushed whispers of his apologies, all the ways he’d planned to do in order make it up to you. All the things he should’ve and would’ve and could’ve done and you have to pry his face from the crease of your neck to make him look you in the eye.

There are no words but the intensity of your stare says plenty and he’s right back where he started; wanting things he shouldn’t and falling back into selfish habits. Leaning into the warmth of your mouth slotting over his own and every bruise and broken bone doesn’t even matter when he’s finally kissing you—soft and tender but all too quick and he’s pulling away before you can memorize the feel of him. “You’re perfect,” Cassian whispers, forehead pressed against your own, hands keeping you close. “I don’t deserve you for a second.”

But you only kiss him again because in that moment nothing else mattered.

[weaselle]

RECOVERY

I spent a lot of my life depressed without admitting it to myself and then i spent a year so depressed i could hardly make myself do the bare minimum to keep my body alive, and now it's about 3 years since i got up from that lowest point and while i am still struggling with myself things are objectively a lot better.

and i just want to put a couple things i've learned, both to remind myself of how far i've come, and in case any of what i've experienced helps anyone else.

You can't run from the darkness

When you're super depressed it's easy to focus on how much you don't want to be depressed. When everything is darkness you tend to wish you could escape that darkness.

but you can't. The darkness is all around you. You can't run away from it without running deeper into it.

instead, follow the light.

don't think of it as escaping depression, think of it as seeking joy. Don't run away from the darkness, walk toward any lights you can see.

At first it will be very small things. The taste of a food. The way your favorite color looks. A smell you like. For me one of the first things i could find to remind me of joy was the way a warm shower feels.

I would just stand in the shower and lean into the tiny, tiny joy of that feeling. I would describe it to myself, how it felt good, what about it felt good. It didn't cure me, it didn't make me less depressed, but it was a little point of joy to focus on, to breathe into like a tiny candle flame in my darkness.

I would memorize that feeling, so that later, when i felt like nothing ever brought me joy anymore, i could think, no, that's your depression lying to you, you felt joy, however small, right there in the shower just yesterday. And, maybe there is more somewhere else.

Even today, it's been a hard week, i'm feeling a lot of hopeless and helpless feelings clamoring away at me, but... i have spicy soup. And spicy soup is a NEW joy. I found spicy soup joy as i was following any little light i could out of the deepest part of my depression.

I never put hot sauce in soup before then. But today i am drinking the broth of a very spicy soup and as much as everything else is complicated and difficult and scary and dark, there is a bright mote of joy in this sip of spicy soup. And in the next one. And the next. I enjoy it, i love it, all the more that it is new, and if i had given up four years ago, i never would have known this small joy, this new favorite tiny thing.

Who knows what other little joys i may find?

If you have come to a place in life where you have lost the knowledge of how to feel joy, it is important to remember that feeling joy is like anything else in life. The more you practice, the better you get, the more of it you can do at higher levels.

And there are only so many minutes in the day. The more of them you spend acknowledging what feels good, the less of them will be left for feeling bad.

you can't escape the darkness by fleeing from it, but you can find the light by moving toward it.

Chop Wood Fetch Water

Another thing i learned was a truth about the exercise advice you always hear.

For where i am in my recovery now, common exercise has very little impact. I don't really get the endorphins people talk about, and i don't tend to feel better about myself after i work out unless i already feel pretty okay about myself to begin with. i don't mean to say there is no point in me exercising, but, i walk about ten miles a day holding onto 8 energetic dogs and i do a fair amount of lifting and bending and stuff for my job, and it's fine but it's not, like, doing a whole lot for me at this point in my recovery (tho i do think more recreational exercise will come back into play a stage or two on in my healing process)

HOWEVER

There was a year there where i was only getting out of bed to go to the bathroom. When i was only able to force myself to eat just enough each day to stay alive because i'd made a promise to myself, and that promise was almost all i had left.

and the right kind of exercise is what pulled me out of that.

the RIGHT kind.

See, someone close to me needed help with a physical job. That was an important part and why this method is known historically as some variation of Chop Wood Carry Water -- it's intensely physical, which is important, but also, it helps the people around you. These days our personal communities tend to not need wood copped and water carried the same way. But you can get the same effect helping someone move all their furniture, doing all the yard work for your friends and/or family, volunteering for a charity that builds housing for homeless people, SOMEthing physically taxing that helps people.

In my case, my aging father needed help re-shingling the roof. So i promised i'd help.

So i got up every morning because he was expecting me. And i climbed the ladder because he would see me if i didn't. And i lifted and carried and hammered and worked hard. It took a week of six to eight hour days.

Right away, the fact that it was helping someone else made it not matter so much that it didn't feel like it was helping me at first. I couldn't deny that i was doing something good, that my existence had positive meaning, however small.

But very soon, it changed something fundamental in my state of depression. You can't do physical labor in the sun 7 hours a day without drinking a bunch of water. Without working up an appetite. Without getting very tired at the end of the day.

See, i had been struggling to make myself drink enough water, i was fighting to make myself eat even one small meal's worth of food each day, and i couldn't get a good night's sleep to save my life. And these things all made my depression much much worse. You think you get sad or angry from skipping a meal, consider being chronically undernourished. You think your mental state is worse after pulling an all nighter, think about what never getting a good night's sleep does.

But a couple days into this job with my father, and suddenly i was hydrated, i was eating full meals, and i was sleeping soundly at night.

THAT is what pulled me out of that deepest part of my depression.

So in a way, it was exercise that saved me. But not how people often say "have you tried exercising?" More like pushing myself physically to the point that my body demanded the things that previously i couldn't get it to want for itself.

Instead of forcing myself to eat i was craving food. Instead of staying up to all hours and then tossing and turning, i was physically exhausted and slept early and hard. (and, weirdly, being physically exhausted was somehow a relief from being emotionally/mentally exhausted)

Lastly

Healing often isn't noticeable while you're doing it

"healing is a process" is something you hear a lot, but i think it's more helpful to say something like

"Healing is like growing your hair out from short to long. You can look in the mirror every day and not notice it happening. And even when you can tell for sure it's longer than it was, you still can't really do anything with it, and it may seem pointless. But then one day you can tie it back in a ponytail and you realize how much it's grown and how many options are open to you now and you're really glad you stuck with it"

Now excuse me while i go meditate on the joys of my remaining spicy soup.

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

Since you've done a mini ask with winged Mc how do you think the M6 would react to a winged Mc that doesn't take proper care of their wings?

I.E Mc should be preening them weekly but only does it when they feel as uncomfortable as they look. Having ruffled, bent, and broken feathers

The Arcana HCs: M6 with a Winged MC

~ put a spin on this so I could apply it to the vesuvia weekly prompt, hope you enjoy it anon friend! ^.^ ~

-- to set the scene --

You like having wings. You really do, but sometimes you wouldn't mind forgetting about them for a bit. Just putting them away, where they can't catch on door frames or whip into people's faces or make you wince every time the sensitive feathers snag on something. Folding them out of sight and being able walk around without the stares is so nice, it becomes your new normal.

Until one day, the pain that's been slowly twisting knots into your shoulders and back becomes too much to bear, and you pull your wings out for the first time in months. They're crushed. Ruffled. Just looking at them is the stuff of nightmares.

Thankfully, your beloved seems to think they're the stuff of daydreams.

Julian

He'd known that something was wrong with your back - the only other person he knows with that many knots in their shoulders is himself - but he'd had no idea it was because of this

Why didn't you say anything? Did you think you'd be asking him for too much work?? Don't you know that taking care of you and seeing you depend on him makes him the happiest man alive???

Rummaging through his overstocked medicine cabinet, rambling between self deprecation for not noticing more and nerding out on winged human anatomy

Doesn't think to ask if it's okay to help until he's already seated behind you, reaching for your wings and realizes your closeness

Excellent at wing care once you tell him what he needs to know, his eyes and hands are trained for spotting physical issues and delicately treating them. He touches you like he's cherishing you

Can't stop daydreaming about how romantic it would be if you ever saved him like this, swooping through the air and snatching him from a burning pirate ship where he'd been held hostage ...

Asra

They'd been the one to teach you about how to manage your wings, and they'd been hinting at maybe taking care of them sooner, but they'd also done their best not to interfere

Approaching you quietly with a pained but sympathetic look on his face, bringing you the stuff you need and telling you however bad it is, you'll fix it together

Has the softest touch, running their warm hands over your shoulders and back as they work through your feathers, easing the pain both in your wings and through your muscles

The funny thing about his daydreaming tendencies (and goodness, does he love to spend time doing that -) is that when he's relaxed, he mumbles

Which is how you begin to hear all kinds of muttered whispers about how gloriously soft they are, how much they just want to hold you in their arms while you shroud them in your wings

All wrapped up in a tiny, feathery, world of your own, with nothing in your shared space but each other - MC, why are you blushing??

Nadia

Let it be known that this Countess is the queen of self-care and values it so highly that she sets aside a weekly budget for it

Which is why seeing your state is enough to horrify her

Your wings! Your glorious wings, they're in such poor shape, you must be in so much pain, her darling deserves so much better

She's dragging you to her private bath. She'll put you in a robe that lets your wings loose and set you up for an afternoon of recovery

Her perfectionist tendencies make for a thorough preening. She'll sit with you between her knees, carding through your wings feather by feather, straightening each one

And with the top quality products from her own personal stash, you slowly begin to glimmer in the sunlight through window

It captures your Countess's attention, making her linger over each feather and cover your wings in loving touches

She wants to see you glorious - she wants to cover you in fabrics and adornments so fine you look like you've stepped from a stained glass window, her own angel on earth

Muriel

He knows you have wings and he'd falsely assumed that the reason for never seeing them was because you didn't want to risk him crushing them with his big, clumsy hands and rough touch

(Note: his hands are not clumsy and his touch is actually quite delicate, he just needs help believing that he's not a danger to you)

Thankfully, the painful state of your wings when he sees them causes enough concern to override his anxiety

He'd be lying if he said you didn't remind him of a very tired, gorgeous bird who's been roughed up by a bad storm

Starts by silently bringing you everything you need, and then standing watchfully nearby until you invite him to help you

He's cared for wings before (though never ones this big, or attached to a human) and he doesn't need much help to get started. Feeling your feathers between his fingers is grounding

He keeps seeing visions of you at peace, the sunlight between the leaves dappling your wings as you walk through the trees, his own heart in the forest bringing beauty and wholeness into the world

Portia

Her first reaction (to someone who doesn't know her well) is anger

How could you do this to yourself? You have the most beautiful wings, they're such a big part of you, and you neglected them like this?? How dare you cause yourself this much pain -

All while she bustles around you, pulling out every product you could need and plenty of other comforting items, pulling up a stool behind you and rolling up her sleeves like it's her calling

She'll figure things out as she goes if she needs to, so don't even think about trying to tell her that you'll handle it yourself

With her background in Vesuvia's version of cosmetology, she understands quickly what you need to get done and already has the skill set to do so. Her hands are fast, thorough, and gentle

The longer she works with you, the more excited she gets. How often are you supposed to care for them? How high can you fly? How sensitive are they? Can she keep one of your feathers?

Soon she's telling you snippets from her favorite novels, about flying together through the sky, an angel and their lover

Lucio

He doesn't really notice how bad your wings are at first, because he's busy being briefly jealous. How come you get to have them and not him? He could totally be trusted with wings!

It's only as he pouts a little closer and gets a better look at the pained look on your face (and the frankly terrible state of your feathers) that he shifts from annoyance to concern

You're the best thing in his life, MC, why aren't you treating yourself like it? Why would you neglect such an awesome thing?

He gets your reasons, but he's also asking right away if he can help

(Because he loves you and he doesn't like seeing you in pain, but also because he really, really wants to touch them, please let him touch them they looks so cool and soft and ... safe?)

It's the safety that gets to him. When you nod and let him sit behind you, literally watching your back, showing immense trust and vulnerability by letting him hold your wings

He wants to know what it's like to hold onto that safety, the brief respite from violence, securely hidden behind your wings ...

[stardew-requests]

Can I get headcanons for the Bachelors and a pregnant farmer? ((Or a link to a post that you've made about the same thing that I really feel like you've made that I still can't remember))

Nothing makes my heart happier than the Stardew bachelors as dads! Thanks for the request Anon!

This one's long post! I put it under the cut!

Alex: In some regard, he still views himself as a teenager, so upon learning that the farmer was pregnant he had a moment of panic. Okay, it was more than just a moment. "What are we going to do? My grandma's going to be so disappointed!" He'd say, pacing back a forth. The farmer would just shake their head. "Alex, we're married. I don't think it'll be much of a scandal". It took some time to really register that he was going to be a father, but when it finally clicked a few weeks in, he begins to get excited. He takes initiative on prepping the nursery and goes above and beyond with helping on the farm. At his core, he's determined to be that father he never had; the one that every kid deserves.

Elliott: He is extremely attentive, almost excessively. Every need, every craving, every appointment or exam, he's there without hesitation. The farmer never has to doubt whether or not he'll be there, because he was fully involved from the moment they told him they were expecting. It had always been a dream of his to be a father, and it had finally come to fruition. So he was there for every moment of the pregnancy, good and bad. And the moment he held that baby for the first time? No painting or song or any piece of art was ever as beautiful as that moment.

Harvey: Being a doctor, Harvey was completely ready, medically speaking. However, no amount of medical school or field work could've prepared him for the intense emotions that overcame him the moment he found out he was going to be a father. Pure joy flooded over him, but also crippling worry. What if he panicked during the delivery? What if something went wrong? How could he live with himself if something did go wrong and he wasn't able to help? The farmer, while worried to a lesser degree, became the rock he needed to be both an attentive doctor and a caring husband. And, of course, he excelled at both. 

Sam: Poor Sam didn't see this one coming. The pregnancy was a surprise, and the farmer was overjoyed, but Sam had no idea how to react at first. Of course he was ecstatic; he'd often daydream of being a father. Taking care of Vincent all those years had given him a real paternal touch. But he was also nervous. What would his mom say? Would his dad be disappointed in him? Would he grow apart from his friends? The situation took some getting used to, but after he overcame the initial shock he let the excitement take over. He went to every single checkup with the farmer and bought LOADS of baby things to prepare the nursery. And you believe he absolutely spoils that baby. 

Sebastian: In his younger years, Sebastian fully believed he never wanted to be a father. He didn't think he was cut out for it. But after meeting the farmer, the idea began to grow on him. He liked the idea of being a stay-at-home dad on the farm. So when the farmer told him the news, he immediately knew he was ready to fall right into the role. Not having his own dad around (and the coldness he received from Demetrius all his life) made him dead-set on being the most attentive and loving man he could be. For both the baby and the farmer.

Shane: Shane had convinced himself that he'd never get that chance to be a father, with the exception of Jas of course, and he'd come to terms with that long ago. It was only after recovery and the blooming relationship with the farmer that he dared to imagine the possibility of a child of his own. When the time came that the farmer told him of their pregnancy, they were worried that he wouldn't react well. Though he'd come a long way in his recovery, he was still fragile. But the farmer wouldn't have guessed that he'd bury his head in his hands and become choked up. "Shane?" They'd ask carefully, worried he was going to break down. But he just shakes his head, looks up at the farmer, and says "I'm so happy".

[abyssalzones]

hey anon! I debated most of this morning what the best way to respond to your ask would be because I'm not going to lie to you it almost made me cry. hopefully a drawing is okay. I wasn't sure whether it was my place to share what you've sent but I did want to answer you properly, and it ended up getting kind of long... so I'll put that under the cut here (sa mention)

First of all you definitely have nothing to apologize for, a major element of my analysis (and what had made me so nervous to post it to begin with) was that it came from a very personal place, and I knew if I posted it I was going to be opening up a lot of doors. good or bad I honestly had no idea but I really hadn't anticipated such an overwhelmingly positive response, and I especially hadn't imagined so many people to share their own experiences with abuse and how what I wrote meant something in relation to that. it makes me extremely glad I bit the bullet and allowed myself to be a little vulnerable about something I enjoy.

there's something almost uniquely weird about being a victim and seeing yourself in a story but not knowing how to express that. it feels like one of those things you can't really say without crossing an extreme line, and any parallels you might be able to draw are therefore Reaching, biased by your own experiences. I've struggled with this a lot as someone who uses art not only as an outlet but a voice for my experiences- and what experiences I think deserve to not only be treated with respect but honesty. there's a lot to be said about the alienation of the victim from the rest of society when sexual assault is so overwhelmingly common in our world, and how difficult it can be to find truthful and respectful depictions of these experiences in... anything, pretty much.

I have no idea if that's what they were trying to do specifically, from a textual angle. but I do think it's possible, and am confident that they at least drew on the subject (both in the instance of Bill coercing Ford to drink and the scene later where Ford is paralyzed), which was honestly what led me to write the analysis in the first place. That "he's kinda like me" moment you describe is something I'd had for a long time but had never been able to say confidently without feeling like I was reading between the lines. But I think you're right. and I think there is a real reason why such a story could speak to people in that way, could be so important for the process of recovery... we can't always conceptualize what happens to us from our own perspective, y'know? we're trapped in our own minds for the most part. so I think fiction works excellently as a way to work through these things and see our worst struggles in someone else- and to come to vitally important realizations of our own.

anyway, all that to say I'm so glad what I wrote helped you come to that realization. hearing that makes me feel like I've done something not only to help myself find some closure, but for others to as well :] healing is always, always possible and I sincerely hope you find your happiness as Ford has, and as I've found mine.

[apollodarling-writes]

Could I have yandere Tamaki hcs?

YANDERE! TAMKAI AMAJIKI HCs

tws: tentacle fucking, non con, attention seeking behavior, self harm, suicidal ‘thoughts’, manipulation, drugging, aphrodisiac, kidnapping, unhealthy devotion, religious??? sacrifice, murder, HEAVY masochism, mutilation, bone breaking,

Tamaki is the type of yandere that is HELLA delusional. He thinks everything you do means you love him.

you look at him? it’s love. you laugh around him, he’s the reason. literally anything you do will make him think you love him. he’ll find a way.

Tamaki loves you so much that he starts a religion for you.

He has a shrine in his room with pictures of you, pictures of the sacrifices he’s done, vials of blood, locks of your hair, items of yours, etc etc

Tamaki will literally sacrifice people in honor of you and then send you detailed notes and pictures. He’s able to change his handwriting so no one can match is and he’s sure to wear gloves, therefore no one knows it’s him.

Tamaki will do ANYTHING for your attention and affection. He doesn’t care what kind of attention he’s getting from you either.

If you’re angry at him, or even in general, he doesn’t mind you hurting him! it just shows that you love him and that he’s useful to you!!

Tamaki will do anything for you. If you need someone to get you food, he’s on it. If your back hurts, he’ll give you a massage. If you’re hurt, he’ll patch you up or bring you to Recovery Girl.

If you suffer from bullying, you’ll notice that they go missing within the next week.

If someone says something bad about you, they’ll go missing within the next month.

If someone stares at you for too long, they’ll go missing within three days.

If you don’t give him attention regularly, or if Tamaki feels like you’re ignoring him, he’ll get your attention somehow.

Tamaki will come to you saying that he’s having thoughts of hurting himself… but please don’t tell anyone! He trusts you and he just needs you around for a little bit!

If you don’t give him enough attention then, he’ll cut himself or burn himself, and you’ll notice when his sleeves ‘accidentally’ roll up

When you begin to keep a closer eye on him because of this, he’s over the moon!

But be sure to keep a VERY close eye on him bc if you don’t he’ll message you saying he’s having suicidal thoughts!

Tamaki’s anxiety is really bad, so if he feels it necessary, he’ll take you away from society and just take care of you that way.

Remember when I said he’s super fucking delusional? Yeah well, when he’s ‘making love’ to you, and you accidentally moan, he thinks that’s because he’s doing a good job at what he’s doing.

When you try to get away, he thinks he’s making you feel too good and that you’re trying to get away, but it doesn’t matter because he won’t stop ‘making love’ to you until he’s had his fill.

Tamaki can turn into what he eats, so he eats a lot of octopus and squid. He does this because he found out that he can give you the most pleasure this way

He’s always wondered what the effects of an aphrodisiac are, so he acquired one from the League of Villains or Giran and put it in your drink/food. he likes how your sex drive increases and how much more sensitive you get.

Don’t even think of trying to run, Tamaki is an overthinker at heart so he’s already proofed the house.

If you do try to run, he’ll resort to breaking your legs or your ankles. If you try again, he’ll just cut your achilles tendon and stitch it back up afterwards

If you have a uterus, you best fucking believe that he’s gonna cum in you over and over and over and over until he’s sure you’ll get pregnant. he doesn’t care if it takes all night. good thing he trained a lot when he was devoted to being a hero.

Remember when i said tamaki is like,, super devoted to you? Yeah well, if you look at his collarbone and his thighs and his chest and his tummy, you’ll find that your initials or your full name is in all of these places.

He’ll carve his name and his initials in the same spots btw. aww how cute

if you can get past his unhealthy devotion, and you can learn to live with being a house(wife/husband/spouse) you’ll find that he’s not that bad.

“[Name]-chan, do you like when i touch you like this? … it’s okay, pretty, you don’t have to pretend.”

“D-don’t leave me! I’ll… ILL KILL MYSELF!”

“[N-N-Name]-chan… do you think i can sleep in your room tonight…? I’m having those thoughts again…”

“ hah!~ [N-Name]! nngh!~ y-you feel so good! I love you. I love you. I love you. nngh fuck!~ fuck! i’m gonna cum, fuck!”

[letteredlettered]

Do you have a rec for something nice to read? It can be any genre, really, OC or fanfic or a paper. I'm a bit stuck in life and I would like something recommended by someone who I consider nice.

The way you write is brilliant.

I'm sorry if I come across as demanding.

Not demanding at all! What a nice question, although I feel there are so many different things I could rec you and I have no idea what your tastes are, so the list I'm giving you is pretty random. I didn't give you any fic as I don't know what fandoms you're in. Also I'm just bad at bookmarking so usually I can't really remember any fics I've read.

Scum Villain's Self Saving System, by Mo Xiang Tong Xiu. If you haven't read any MXTX, I would start here, because it's a fast-paced story, a real-page turner. It's also riotously funny, which will hopefully put in you in a good mood, but like all MXTX books, it also deals with society and morals and humanity. Reading it made me feel so excited and energized.

Dog's Body, by Diana Wynne Jones. If you haven't read any DWJ, I think this is a delightful book to start with, because it's quite short and has such an out-there premise that it hooks you like a fanfic. It's considered YA, but like all DWJ books it's about kindness and relationships and yeah, humanity.

Deerskin, by Robin McKinley. While I can't rec all McKinley's works, this one is my favorite. It's also where my icon is from. I find this one also to be a quick read, because the beginning is written in such a gauzy, fairytale tone, but then the worst happens, and you need to find out what the fuck will happen now. But while it's quick, it's not easy. There are parts that are extremely dark. While it's not explicit, if you need trigger warnings for abuse, I would look this book up before reading. That said, this book has wonderful themes about recovery and self-discovery, as well as top-notch romance.

Daniel Deronda, by George Eliot. This is not an easy or quick read at all but is instead something thick and dense you can really sink into. Eliot writes superb dialogue and is very witty, but more than any other author I've read, Eliot manages to make observations about life and relationships and humanity that put into words things I've always thought but never been able to articulate. Her characters are complex and deeply relatable while also being highly flawed. The premise of Daniel Deronda is revolutionary for her culture and time period and is still surprising today.

[postoctobrist]

(disclaimer: i was trained combat first aid mostly to respond to mass casualty events, car accidents, and by the military to respond to basic ballistic/fragmentation injuries--in all of these cases, i was trained under the assumption that those involved would receive medical attention by a real doctor person)

re: the edge

people get a lot of conflicting advice and information regarding application of tourniquets to stop major bleeding and there's a good deal of misconceptions out there (onesuch misconception results in the [fictional] death of snowden in catch-22) that maybe i could clear up

above all else, one thing to keep in mind when treating massive bleeding is that everything you're doing is results-based. it seems obvious, but when you're trying to stop bleeding, you should work until the bleeding is decisively stopped. if it is stopped, take secondary actions to make sure it doesn't start again. as you move on to facilitate airway/respiration/hypothermia/shock, continue to reevaluate to make sure bleeding hasn't started again.

so, to properly begin, a tourniquet is applied to an extremity to halt bleeding so you the wound can properly be packed and dressed. it works through vasoconscriction--closing the blood vessels to stop the bleed. a proper tourniquet is about 2 inches wide and has a windlass to tighten it. the combat application tourniquet (CAT) is a good example and i'd recommending keeping one with some gauze and pressure dressings in your car if you drive.

let me present an idea, let's say you come across somebody in a motorcycle crash, as you're calling emergency services, you find the victim has a massive gash along their femoral artery along their leg--you don't know where that is, but the wound is exposed and is spurting bright red blood at an alarming rate (cw: blood). you put as much of your body weight as you can into applying direct pressure to the wound but it's not really slowing down. you then wrap and tighten your tourniquet around the leg a couple inches above the injury, before winding the windlass to tighten it, securing the rod into the strap. having applied it, you return to applying direct pressure and check to see if the bleeding stop, which it does.

there's work to be done, but in the meantime, you double check for bleeding coming from other places, and gratefully there isn't any. the the victim here is unconscious now, but has a pulse and good respiration. paramedics will be there within a few minutes, so you move on to packing the wound as deeply as you can with gauze, almost excessively, before securing a pressure dressing around the injury. the tourniquet is still tight, but given the timeframe here, there isn't good reason to loosen it. continuing to monitor respiration and heartrate, you cover their chest with your jacket. the emergency services operator tells you not to put them in the recovery position because you can't evaluate if there was a spinal injury in the crash.

okay, so that's like the best case scenario here, but it's really important to know where things can go wrong as well. even if you put on a proper made-for-purpose tourniquet with a windlass, there are a number of ways things could go wrong: if you don't adequately tighten it, the tourniquet is placed at a joint (like the knee or elbow) and cannot be tightened, the tourniquet becomes loose over time but bleeding is not checked, or the tourniquet is deliberately loosened because the patient doesn't like how it feels (painful, and also really tingly). all of these can be corrected (or, if not obvious, mitigated) by focusing on evaluating the original problem: is the patient still bleeding? if they are still bleeding, or if you are able to address it, continue direct pressure. if that's not working, pack the wound with gauze. if you don't have gauze and direct pressure still isn't working, repurpose any cloth you have at hand to pack the wound, and continue direct pressure. you might be picking up on a theme here.

but what if you dont have a proper tourniquet? don't repurpose something like a shoelace! a belt or strip of thick fabric around 1-2" wide may do in a pinch, especially if you have a way to wind or tighten it; however, it's not something you can really trust, and should only be applied if you can't stop bleeding by direct pressure--you'll probably need to continue to apply direct pressure, either on the makeshift tourniquet, or the site of the wound after application, if it's not working, you'll go back to packing the wound and so on--ideally you have two people so one person stops the bleed with pressure on the makeshift tourniquet and the other person is treating the wound itself here, but it turns out okay because paramedics show up in twenty minutes and the people treating it are paying close attention to the situation.

but what if you're in the edge? there's a couple considerations here, the first being the timeframe. as i understand it, tony hopkins doesn't know when he and alleged manslaughterer alec baldwin will be rescued by the forces of american air mobility, so how do you decide what to do? sources on how long you have to have a tourniquet applied to cause damage, be it from gangrene, nerve damage, necrosis, or otherwise, vary from two to twenty-four hours, which is something to keep in mind. moreover, the journal of special operations medicine (great looking website) in an abstract that i read which makes me a total expert are all like using a tourniquet in subfreezing temperatures might mean you get frostbite faster ig.

this gives a good argument for applying whatever tourniquet you can to treat the wound and, if you can control it through any other method, loosening the tourniquet after an hour or more (especially to regain mobility of the joint in the spirit of the Walk) might be your best bet for survival.

in short, massive bleeding will kill you before basically anything else after a traumatic injury. if you're ever in one of those school shootings where the cops don't do anything for hours, or in the alaskan wilderness with your in-the-closet friend who wants to fuck your wife, it might be better to risk losing complete function of a limb over your life. but remember, dont if you end up getting ahold of a CAT or other device for your medical kit, make sure you learn from proper sources how to best apply and use it, and avoid causing harm through neglect.

its like 4 am so im gonna go to bed now

this was a fascinating read I’m choosing to insist perfectly vindicates everything I said, thanks so much

[therealcocoshady]

Recovery - Chapter 34

Eminem x FemReader Fanfiction

Summary : Thanksgiving is just around the corner and Reader is planning Talia and Jamal's wedding when unexpected news happen.

Tags : Angst

TW : Mention of drug use - Mention of pregnancy

Author's Note : I hope you enjoy the chapter ❤️

Y/N’s POV

Ever since Marshall had informed you that Kim would be there for Thanksgiving, you were a little bit freaked out. However, you didn’t really bring up the topic, and neither did your boyfriend. After the conversation, you spent a few days pondering whether or not you should try and escape the situation. Not being American, Thanksgiving wasn’t important to you anyway so you wouldn’t mind skipping it or celebrating it the same way you had done since you came to the US - with Talia and Jamal. 

When you moved to Detroit, you quickly befriended Talia at the beginning of the school year. You were planning on spending your first Thanksgiving in your dorm room, on your own, watching a crappy movie and eating ramen, but she wouldn’t have it and invited you to spend the day with her, her boyfriend and her family. At first, you declined the invitation but she basically forced you to go and that’s how you met Jamal, as well as Talia’s mother and her three sisters. You got along with everyone and had an official, standing invitation for every holiday, your best friend’s family being just as warm and welcoming as her. Even when you were with your ex, you spent Thanksgiving with Talia. This year would be your first time celebrating it with someone else. When you told her about the change of plans, she was happy for you but made it clear that you would be missed. To be fair, you would miss them too. You didn’t know too much about how everyone else celebrated Thanksgiving, but Talia’s family certainly made it fun : everyone would spend the day cooking together in a relaxed atmosphere, making jokes, dancing to some 80s tunes and playing board games. 

You didn’t mind skipping this in order to celebrate with the man you loved, but knowing his ex-wife would be there certainly made you reconsider. However, he made it clear that he was looking forward to celebrating with you and told you how important it was for him that you be there. 

It’s a family holiday, he said. We’re officially living together, it doesn’t make sense to spend it apart, Y/N. We’re family, now. 

We’re still very new, you reminded him. What will your family think ? 

As far as they’re concerned, you can do no wrong, he chuckled. Apparently, they’re all relieved that my grumpy ass found someone who is actually willing to put up with me. And they all know and like you already. 

Except for your ex, you pointed out. 

Is that what it’s really about ? He asked with a raised eyebrow. 

You sighed and did not reply. Part of you thought that it was a good thing that Marshall and Kim were on friendly terms, for the sake of their daughters. It was a proof of maturity on their part and you had heard enough stories from your friends with divorced parents to know that it was actually a good thing. Everyone would like for their parents to be able to get along after a divorce. But being the partner of someone who was divorced made it a little challenging. After all, no one expected to spend a holiday with their boyfriend’s ex-wife, let alone relished the idea. 

I told you it will be fine, he said as he hugged you from behind while you were doing your skincare before bed. And it’s not just her, anyway. Everyone else will be there. 

Yes but she’s the only one I haven’t met yet, you said sheepishly. What if she hates me ? 

Why would she hate you ? He scoffed. 

Because I’m your girlfriend… Duh ? 

Look, Y/N, he said as he took your hands in his. Yes, Kim is my ex, and yes, we have a long and complicated history. But any form of romantic feeling between us is long gone. There won’t be any jealousy… On her part, at least. 

The end of his comment made you raise an eyebrow. 

You think I’m jealous of her ? You asked. 

I don’t know, he said with a smile. Are you ? 

I guess not, you shrugged. I do have many questions, though. 

So we’re gonna have that talk, huh ? He asked with a sigh. 

Do you mind ? 

No offense, babe, but even if I did… I know you well-enough to know that you’d toss and turn all night, and you'll drive yourself crazy and me as well. I love you, and I want to get some sleep tonight, so for both our sakes, let’s get this over with, he chuckled. 

Thank you, you said shyly as you felt your face redden a bit. 

You both sat in bed and you were nervously tugging on your nightgown, not really knowing where to start. 

I don’t have all night, though, he said playfully. Just ask your damn questions, babe. 

Did she sleep here ? You asked, as it was the first question that popped into your head - hell, maybe you were in her spot ! 

In this room or in this bed ? He asked. This is the master bedroom, so yeah, we slept here. The bed and mattress are new, though, if that’s any comfort. Next question ? 

Do you miss her, sometimes ? You asked nervously. 

He glanced at you and shook his head with a smile. 

What kind of question is that, Y/N ? He simply asked. Really ? You’re asking me if I miss her ? 

Can you blame me for wondering, though ? Everyone knows she’s the love of your life, your high-school sweetheart and stuff… 

Everyone also knows that our marriages were utter failures and that we drove each other crazy, he stated with an eye roll. 

So you never think about her ? You asked. 

That’s a different question. Of course I think about her often. 

Often ?! What the hell did he mean by that ? As he saw the expression on your face - that probably resembled that of a deer in headlights - he let out a laugh. 

I told you, babe, we have a history and three daughters, he said. Of course I think about her, whether it’s something about the girls or simply memories. I can’t erase twenty-plus years from my brain, you know ? But it doesn’t mean I miss her. I used to, for sure, but I don’t. Not anymore. You can think of the good times you had with someone without missing the relationship. 

I guess, you said. How do you feel about her now, then ? 

I mean… She’s the mother of my children and that will never change. In that regard, I respect her, because she’s doing her best to be a good mom, too. I might not always agree with her, in fact there’s a lot of shit we disagree on, but she’s high in my esteem. Also because she put up with a lot of me and my shit, he said. 

Do you have feelings for her ? You blurted out before you were able to hold back the words. 

As soon as you spoke these words, he frowned and shook his head. He sighed and took your hand in his, interlocking your fingers. 

I just told you I don’t miss her, he said. So no, I don’t have feelings for her. Not romantic, at least. I do have affection for her, though, in a way. I care for her and I don’t want anything bad happening to her. If she ever needs me, I’m here. I told you before - whether we like it or not, Kim and I will always be family. So I will always be there to support her. 

You nodded, a bit lost in your thoughts. He pulled you in his arms and leaned in, his forehead resting against yours while his piercing blue gaze held yours. 

I need you to understand something, baby, he said. Nothing I’m saying here affects the way I feel about you. Just because I care for Kim doesn’t mean I don’t love you. You are the woman I love and the one who makes me happy, and no one will change that. 

Ok, you said as you nodded softly. I love you too, you know ? 

And even if she did hate you, which she won’t, you’re the one person I chose to share my life with. Whether anyone likes it or not, you are my girl and they have to respect that. And I know she does, he said. 

Ok, you said. Does she know that we live together here ? 

She does, he  nodded. 

And that I’m… You know… Younger ? 

Yes, that too, he chuckled. I mean, I told her about you before so she knows a couple of things. She knows your name, your age, what you do in life, part of our story and, most of all, she knows I am head over heels in love with you. 

When did you tell her all that ? You asked, a bit surprised. 

I talked about you on a couple of occasions, he explained. When we got together, and a couple of months after our breakup, too. We don’t speak or see each other too often, but we keep up with each other’s life. 

He was smiling, which was sort of reassuring. His transparency made you feel at peace and, even though you were still a bit anxious, you eased up. You smiled back and kissed him on the cheek. 

Thank you for reassuring me, you said softly. I think you got yourself a night without me tossing and turning. 

Good, he chuckled. I get how weird it must be for you, you know ? But I’m sure everything will be fine. It’s just Thanksgiving. 

You smiled and nuzzled his neck as he held you in his arms, tracing circles on your shoulder. 

I love you, Marshall. 

I love you too, Y/N. And I’m really happy we’re celebrating our first holiday together, he added. 

That’s a milestone, you said. 

The first of many, many more, he said with a smile before pressing a kiss to your temple. 

So… What does a typical Thanksgiving look like in the Mathers household ? You asked. What should I expect ? 

Just classic Thanksgiving stuff, you know ? He shrugged. 

Well I only ever celebrated at Talia’s family’s, so… I don’t know, you chuckled. In my experience, it involves Talia’s mom preaching about how good God is and the blessings he gives, lots of cooking, lots of eating, board games and Talia’s sisters arguing over who Jamal prefers ! 

Sometimes I forget you’re not from here, he chortled. No preaching here, but lots of eating, just hanging out together, talking, watching movies, playing games… And I have my basketball tradition with Nate. 

Let me guess ? You usually win ? You asked with a grin. 

I lost the last one, actually, he chuckled. But I’ll definitely humiliate him this year. I have a lady to impress, I can’t lose. 

If you win, I’ll give you something to look forward to, you said teasingly. 

Like what ? He asked with a smirk. 

Win and you’ll see, you replied with a wink. 

I have an entire week left before the game, he said. Believe me, I’m going to train for victory. 

You giggled and kissed him softly before turning the lights off. You were a little reassured and figured that, even though your first Thanksgiving with him would be a bit stressful, you would get to admire him all sweaty on the basketball court and that would be absolutely worth it. 

In the week leading up to Thanksgiving, you were busy with wedding stuff and maid of honor duties. Talia and Jamal had yet to set a date for the wedding but that didn’t prevent your best friend from giving you tasks such as browsing ideas, looking at dress designers and searching for venues. You gladly obliged : you had sent out a few applications for jobs but you hadn’t gotten any answers yet and you were starting to get a bit bored. You would have gladly taken care of the house or garden, but there was staff hired for that and the only thing you could do to help around the house was to cook dinner for Marshall when he came back from work. You enjoyed it but it was clearly not enough to fill your days and you were starting to feel like one of those rich, bored housewives. Helping Talia with the wedding was a welcome distraction and you took the task with the utmost seriousness. You had always been a sucker for weddings and you knew full well it would be the only one you would get to organize so you decided to enjoy it. Every day after she got off from work, your friend would come to your place and your living room was soon filled with bridal magazines and moodboards for what was set to be the wedding of the century. Jamal’s work as a renowned beatmaker allowed them to have a very comfortable lifestyle and he had made clear that, whatever Talia wanted for the wedding, she would get. And she happened to have expensive taste, as well as a never-ending guest list. 

I will never find a venue, she loudly complained. I either hate the places we’re looking at, or they’re simply not big enough. 

You let out a sympathetic laugh. With the immense guest list they had, it was no surprise that finding a venue would be challenging. It seemed like every single person they had ever met would be invited. 

We will find something, you said with a smile. Or maybe you could try and shrink the guest list ? 

Jamal put you up to this, didn’t he ? She sighed. He keeps on telling me that we should keep it small. If it were up to him, we would elope… 

That could be super romantic, you know, you said tentatively. I mean… How many people on your guest list do you actually keep in touch with anyway ? 

I want my princess wedding, she said. You don’t know what it is. You’ll see when you get engaged ! 

I’m not getting married, you reminded her. Marshall doesn’t want to get married. You know it, I know it, everybody knows it. 

I can’t believe you’re willing to accept that, though, she said with an eye roll. You, of all people, not getting married ? 

You know I’m a sucker for weddings and all things “traditional family”, you chuckled. But I’d rather never get married and be with Marshall than the other way around. He means more to me than a dress I’d wear for a day. 

You know I love Em, but I just don’t get it, she shrugged before munching on a cupcake you had baked earlier. He’s old, so I get the “not wanting kids” part. But you moved back here for him and you decided to give up on kids to be with him, so the least he could do is put a ring on it, you know ? 

We just got back together, you giggled. And don’t get me wrong, if he asked for my hand, I would say yes. I mean, he is the love of my life. But he seems pretty adamant. And as long as I’m with him, I’m good, so really… Doesn’t matter. 

Still… I never thought you would be ready to renounce marriage and children for any man. 

You could absolutely see where Talia was coming from. You had spent countless hours talking about wedding stuff, since the two of you had met. You had actually bonded over your love of romantic movies and series and watched countless wedding-related TV shows. But you had made your choice and you understood that Marshall didn’t want that. And after all, he was right : you didn’t need to sign a piece of paper to be in a loving, committed relationship. As long as you got to experience life with him and make great memories, you were happy. And as for the fun you would have had planning your own wedding, you would live vicariously through Talia, who would be the most beautiful bride. The conversation shifted and you got back to your order of business : the wedding. You looked at venues while she took a fun break and looked at the Vera Wang website.

I’m going to be sick, Talia muttered after a while. 

Come on, you chuckled. The bridal collections can’t be that bad… 

No, I’m really feeling sick, she said before running to the bathroom. 

You heard her puke profusely and looked at the plate of cupcakes. She had eaten about half a dozen. You had eaten a few yourself, though not nearly as much, and you were feeling fine, so you doubted that your baking was actually to blame. When she came back from the bathroom, she looked rather ill and tired.  

Do you want some tea ? You offered. 

Yes, please, she said in a croaky voice. 

Lay on the couch, I’ll make it. Do you think you caught a stomach bug or something ? 

I don’t know, she said in a small voice. Maybe it’s my period ? I’ve been waiting for it to actually come for a while. 

Wait… You’re late ? You asked with a raised eyebrow. 

You stared at her in disbelief and started to put two and two together. In the past days, she had complained about being tired and bloated, but you didn’t think too much of it. However, now that you knew she was late, it made you think of your own symptoms, from when you were pregnant. That’s how it had started after all : feeling tired, hungry and bloated, with a bit of morning sickness to top it off. 

I can’t be pregnant, Talia said with a terrified look on her face. My mother gave me enough shit about living with Jamal before being married, she will kill me if I have a baby out of wedlock. 

Maybe it’s just a false alarm. You’re using protection, right ? You asked as you tried to reassure her. 

Of course, she said. I mean, except once, but what would be the odds ? 

When was that ? You asked with a raised eyebrow. 

Hum… The night we got engaged ? She said nervously. 

You opened big eyes. The night they got engaged was the night Jamal brought condoms to your room. And doing the math, it would make sense and explain Talia’s period being quite a bit late. On some level… You were the one who stopped taking the pill after your breakup and your best friend might as well be the one who ended up pregnant. You convinced her to take a pregnancy test and the two of you ended up driving to the nearest pharmacy, buying one from every brand. When you got back home, Talia was shaking with nerves. 

You’ll be fine, you said as you gave her a hug. You guys have been together for ages and you guys have talked about having kids before. You know he will be supportive. 

I know but… Right before the wedding ?! She asked nervously. That was not the plan, Y/N. I wanted to look good in my dress, I wanted to show off my figure in a bikini on a Hawaiian beach for my honeymoon… 

Only one way to find out, you said. Now, go and take the test ! 

In true bestie fashion, you sat on the tub while Talia was peeing on the stick. She handed it to you during the mandatory three minute waiting period. You had been there before and you knew damn well how she might be feeling. You held her hand and started to feel overcome with nerves, as well as many other emotions. You were probably a bad friend for this, and you would never confess to feeling this way, but deep down, you were feeling envious. You were content with your life, but some shameful part of you felt like you would have been in her place, if you hadn’t broken up with Simon. You would most likely be engaged, maybe with a rainbow baby on the way. In a way, you were envious. Of course, being with Marshall was everything you wanted and you loved him more than hypothetical plans of having kids or getting married, and Talia was more than deserving of these things, but it was stronger than you. When the alarm on your phone rang, both you and Talia took a deep breath. 

I can’t look at it, she said. 

You sort of have to, you pointed out. You have to know, right ? 

You look at it and tell me. 

You nervously took the stick and looked at it. Two lines. Positive. 

You’re… pregnant, you said in a blank voice. 

She gasped and looked at it herself. She freaked out and refused to believe it, trying to convince the both of you that it might be a false positive and she ended up guzzling almost a gallon of water and taking another test. Then another one. And another one. Of course, all of them had the same result : your best friend was definitely pregnant. 

I’m pregnant, she said in disbelief. I’m really pregnant.

How are you feeling ? You asked. 

I… I can’t believe it, she simply said. I am pregnant. 

She stared at the numerous tests on the sink and put a hand on her belly. She stared at you as tears welled up in her eyes. 

I’m pregnant, she repeated. 

Look, if you don’t feel ready, you can absolutely…, you began. 

No, she said. I think… I’m happy. I’m having a baby with the love of my life. I’m so happy. 

She took you in her arms and held you tightly as she sobbed with happiness. You were emotional - for a lot of different reasons - and you felt a tear roll on your cheek. Talia was the kindest soul you had ever met and you had absolutely no doubt that she would be an amazing mother. She was already so good at taking care of people. 

You’re going to be a splendid mom, you said softly. That baby is going to be so lucky. 

You’re going to be the best aunt, she said emotionally. 

And Jamal is going to be the greatest Dad on earth ! 

Oh my God, I have to tell Jamal ! She said. And my mom ? Do I call my mom ? And the wedding ?! What do I do ?!?! 

You could see her go through so many emotions at once. You tried your best to reassure her and walked her through what she needed to do. First, you told her to go home and break the news to Jamal before telling anyone else. Then, she would have to make some medical appointments to ensure everything was alright with her pregnancy. As for the wedding, you assured her that, whether they wanted to elope or wait until after the baby was born, you would do your best to make sure her dreams came true and that she would have the most beautiful wedding. Whatever she needed, you would be there for her. She hugged you tight before leaving your place, making you promise that you would not tell a soul, not even Marshall. 

MARSHALL’S POV 

Marshall sighed in relief as he drove past the gate of his property. The past few days at the studio had been pretty rough : nothing seemed to be going right and it was starting to get on his nerves. The week had started with an artist postponing a recording and writing session they were supposed to have together, as well as a sample clearing issue. However, there was a bigger problem : whenever he wanted to write, he couldn’t bring himself to. Whenever he jotted down some ideas or words on a page, everything felt insanely corny or simply wrong. He knew that was to be expected, though : whenever his personal life was peaceful, that’s when he found it harder to write and, right now, things happened to be going great at home. Every morning, he woke up with the biggest smile on his face, happy to be with the woman he loved. She was truly amazing and he loved living with her. She was easy to get along with and she took care of him by cooking, baking and providing him with comfort whenever he needed. There was literally nothing for him to complain about and, deep down, maybe it was what was lacking. When they were broken up, he was hurting and felt like shit but at least, it was a familiar feeling. As hard as it had been, he had learned to thrive on sadness, hurt, anger and resentment. Happiness, on the other hand, felt foreign to him, especially when it was this peaceful and domestic. There was always this irrational part of him that felt like it was too good to be true and was in panic mode. When he was with Kim, this kind of calm, peace and happiness only meant a storm was coming and that he was about to be brought to his knees. Same when he was a teenager living with his mother : when things were going great, it always meant drama was coming their way. So, obviously, he had developed trust issues and always felt odd when things were going good. Of course, he loved being with Y/N and he would not have it any other way. But at the same time, he couldn’t shake the feeling of anxiety. 

When he got home, he found Y/N reading yet another bridal magazine on the couch while a documentary was playing on the living room TV. He immediately joined her and pulled her in for a hug. Her presence was just what he needed. However, she seemed a bit more distracted than usual. 

How was wedding planning today ? He asked as he settled and pulled her legs over his knees. 

Eventful, she replied. 

Really ? What happened ? Did you argue about the color of the bridesmaids dresses ? He chuckled. 

No, no, she said. I mean, whatever, it’s not really interesting. 

Are you alright ? He asked. 

Yeah… How was your day ? 

She seemed a little nervous and preoccupied, but he figured that Talia was probably to blame. Jamal’s fiancée was amazing, but she did keep Y/N busy with wedding planning and he knew that she was definitely the type to turn into a bridezilla. He told his girlfriend about his day and a meeting he had about upcoming performance dates. He was set to be a headliner for Lollapalooza, not only in the US but also in Europe and South America. He tried to focus on the positive and keep his writing struggles to himself. 

How would you feel about coming with me for Lollapalooza ? He asked. 

I don’t know, she shrugged. 

Come on, he said with a smile. It could be fun. I don’t want to be away from you for too long. And you could also enjoy the festival, see concerts, and we could travel a bit between the performance dates and make it romantic. What do you think ? 

That could be fun, she agreed. I don’t know if I’ll be free, though. 

I think Talia can do without you for a little while, he chuckled. 

No, I meant… From work, she corrected. In case I find something, you know ? But maybe Talia will need me too. I don’t know. 

We’ll see, he said with a smile. Are you sure you’re ok ? You seem… Gloomy ? 

I’m fine, she shrugged. Sorry. I guess I’m just under the weather. 

You’re working too hard for this wedding, he said as he took the magazine from her hands and pulled her closer to him. Come here. 

She hummed and buried her face in his neck. They cuddled in this position for a while and he started to relax. The warmth of her breath on his skin was doing a good job soothing him and making him forget about the frustrations of the day. From the day she walked into his life, she had been a peaceful presence for him and getting to come home to her in the evening was a blessing he was definitely grateful for. He enjoyed being in a bubble with her and being able to forget about the pressure of his work. They didn’t need to speak, her mere presence in the room and her touch were enough for him to be able to ease up. 

I missed you today, he said as he kissed her temple. 

I missed you too, she replied. 

If you didn’t have that appointment tomorrow, I’d take you to work with me, he continued. I could use your hugs throughout the day. 

What appointment ? She asked, seemingly confused. 

Your OB/GYN appointment for your contraception. Isn’t that tomorrow ?

Oh, right, she said sheepishly. I forgot about that. 

Are you ok, babe ? He asked with his eyebrows furrowed. I mean… If you don’t want to take the pill, it’s fine, we can stick to condoms. 

No, no, it’s not that, she replied. 

What’s wrong, then ? 

Nothing, she said. Sorry. Mind if I go lie down before preparing dinner ? I don’t feel too well. 

No, of course not, he said softly. Do you want me to come with you ? 

Don’t worry, she said. You can stay here. 

She got up and kissed his cheek before heading to their bedroom. Something definitely seemed off. Ever since they got back from Europe, she had been in a rather good mood, even considering the situation with her Dad. Now, she almost seemed depressed and he had no idea why. He decided to let her rest, figuring that she was probably just tired or that her period might be on the way. A couple of hours later, he went to see her and ask if she was hungry. She immediately offered to cook something for him, even though she didn’t plan on eating, but he told her not to bother. Y/N was laying in bed, wearing one of his tee-shirts, doom scrolling on her phone, the preoccupied look still on her face. He kissed her and went to the kitchen for a quick sandwich and a can of diet coke. When he was done, he threw his can in the trash and saw three sticks that looked all too familiar : pregnancy tests. Ever since he got back with Y/N, they’d had protected sex and, on one occasion when the condom broke, she had gotten emergency contraception. There was no way she could be pregnant. So why the hell had she taken these tests ? In a matter of seconds, his heart had started pounding in his chest. He nervously grabbed one of the tests, hoping it was negative. But there were clearly two lines. Positive. So were the two other ones. He felt terrified and dizzy. That had to be a nightmare. He could not have a baby. Not at fifty-two. Not when he had sworn that he would not have any more children. If anything, he was the last person on earth that should have kids. He loved his daughters, obviously, and even though raising them was his biggest accomplishment, it was also the hardest thing he had ever had to do. Seeing the two lines on the pregnancy tests gave him flashbacks of all the sleepless nights he’d had, tossing and turning, doubting himself and being terrified to mess things up. There was no way he would be able to do it all over again. Now that his daughters were grown-up and out of the house, he wanted to take it easy, enjoy life with Y/N and be able to do whatever he wanted. The last thing he expected was to change diapers, get up in the middle of the night and just struggle all over again. He took his face in his hands. He could not do this, and especially not with Y/N. She had not even been sober for two years. He had been there with Kim and he knew what it was like to see the mother of his children relapse and struggle with sobriety. No kid ever deserved this and he was simply not strong enough to raise a kid with another addict. Not again. He tried to pace himself but he couldn’t. He had to talk to her. He did not understand. Why hadn’t she told him she was late ? When did she take the test ? Why didn’t she tell him she was pregnant ? He had so many questions. He grabbed the sticks and walked to the bedroom to confront her.

Please tell me it’s a prank, he said as he walked in. Please tell me it’s not true. Please tell me they’re fake. 

Fake what ? What prank ? She asked as she looked up. There’s no prank. 

So it’s real ?! He blurted out. How long did you think you could hide this from me ?! 

Hide what from you ? She asked as her eyebrows knitted. 

THIS ! He yelled as he threw the pregnancy tests on the bed.

He was livid. His anxiety had simply turned to anger. The idea that she could have the audacity to pretend not to know what he was talking about was driving him crazy. Had she even taken the plan B pill ? He couldn’t think straight anymore. He felt betrayed and trapped. He could see her face change as she saw the pregnancy tests. Her face started to crumble and tears started to roll on her cheeks. But if she thought he would fall for it, she was wrong. No amount of crying would work and she was not getting away with it. 

Don’t even try that shit with me, Y/N, he said coldly. You don’t get to pretend you have no idea when I’m talking about when I just found these fucking pregnancy tests. And you don’t get to cry when you’re the one who tried to hide that shit for me. What were you fucking thinking ?! Were you waiting for the legal delay for an abortion to be over ? For an ultrasound to soften me up ?! 

W-What ? She asked. No, Marshall, it’s not… 

What is it, huh ?! Fuck, we talked about this, we fucking broke up over this, so don’t tell me you didn’t fucking know how I feel about having kids, he continued. I’m not having another kid. Especially not with you. When you get to the doctor tomorrow, you better ask him to point you to the nearest abortion clinic ! 

She stared at him in shock. Her mouth was slightly open, she was still crying but she looked in disbelief. What was she thinking ? That he would jump up at the news ? He shook his head and headed to the bathroom to get ready for bed. 

It’s Talia, she said. She…

Of course it’s Talia, he scoffed. Of course your stupid friend put you up to this. Do you know the number of times she told me to suck it up and agree to marriage, babies and shit and get you back ? I gotta hand it to her, she’s fucking persistent. Though I must admit I didn’t think she would put you up to this. 

At this point, he wasn’t even thinking about what he was saying, just spitting his words in a spiteful way. As seconds went by, he was getting more and more worked up. He didn’t care about this pregnancy. He did not want to. He simply refused this possibility. There was no way he was having another baby. He loved Y/N but there was no way he would have a kid with her. 

You’re not the first person to try this with me, you know ? He spat. I should have known better. But you’re the last person I would have expected to try and fuck me ovI- 

I’M NOT PREGNANT ! Y/N finally yelled before throwing the tests back in his face. 

You’re not ?! He asked in disbelief. Whose fucking tests are they then ?! 

TALIA’S ! TALIA IS PREGNANT,  YOU ASSHOLE ! NOT ME ! 

He felt a sudden wave of relief wash over him. He didn’t realize he needed to breathe that much, but it felt like he had a whole bottle of oxygen poured into his lungs. He felt at least thirty pounds lighter. Y/N, on the other hand, looked absolutely livid. And why wouldn’t she ? He realized he had basically insulted her, blinded by anger. As his mind got a little clearer, he recognized he might have gone a little overboard. 

Thank God, he sighed. Babe, I…

Cut it, she said as she got up from bed and started to leave the room. 

Wait, he pleaded as he grabbed her arm. 

She jerked her arm and groaned before going to the corridor. He followed her, trying to apologize and get her to talk to him. 

Y/N, I’m sorry, he said sheepishly. 

Please, she scoffed. You’re not sorry. 

I am, he assured her. Nerves got the best of me. I’m really sorry. 

Well, at least I got to know what you really think of me, she said. 

Where are you going ? He asked as she went down the stairs. 

On the couch. I don’t know about you, but I usually don’t sleep in the same room as people who think I am capable of betraying them, she spat. 

I didn’t say that, he defended himself knowing full well he had, indeed, said that. 

You did, Marshall, she said coldly. You literally said I tried to fuck you over. And not only do you think I am a terrible person, you also insulted my best friend. 

You’re not sleeping in the living room, it’s stupid, he said. 

Well I would have appreciated waiting until tomorrow to gather my things and figure out my next move, she pointed out. 

Your next… Y-You want to… leave ?! 

She did not answer. She only shrugged. Her demeanor and gaze were cold. She was clearly pissed, understandably so. But… Leaving ? She couldn’t leave him. He couldn’t lose her. He had promised to himself he would do everything in his power not to. The idea of her leaving put him in a state of panic and brought him back to their breakup, to that fateful Saturday morning, over pancakes, about seven or eight months ago. 

You can’t leave. 

Why should I stay ?! She spat. Why should I stay with someone who thinks I am capable of betraying them ? 

I didn’t mean that, he pleaded. I panicked, I’m sorry. Babe, I love you. I know you’d never… Fuck, I… Don’t leave me. Please. 

Let’s be clear, she said as she looked at him dead in the eyes. The only reason I’m still standing here is because my best friend is telling her future husband that they’re having a child and there is no way in hell I’m ruining that moment for her. Otherwise, I’d be over there and back in my old room already. 

Don’t do this, he said on the verge of tears. Please don’t leave me. I just… You seemed a little off, today, and you said it had been eventful, and when I saw the tests, I… I don’t know, I panicked. 

The reason I was off is because my best friend just told me she was pregnant, you dumbass ! She yelled. I was off because I had to stand in my own bathroom and hold these fucking pregnancy tests and see that they were positive and they’re not mine ! 

She was starting to cry again. She mumbled something in French and went to the living room, as he followed in her step. She sat on the couch and brought her knees to her chin. He stood there, watching her. 

Just leave, she said. 

No, he replied. I want to talk about it. I want to make things right between us. I’m so sorry… 

You want to talk ? Let’s talk then, she said sarcastically. You said you’re not having another kid, especially not with me. What was that ? 

I just don’t want more kids, he said evasively. I’m in my fifties, I’ve had three daughters, I don’t want more. 

I know that, she said as she rolled her eyes. And I respect that. But answer the damn question, Marshall. What did you mean about me ?! 

It doesn’t matter, he pleaded. It really doesn’t. You don’t want a kid, do you ?! 

Believe me, the last thing on my wish list is to have a baby, especially with you, she replied. 

Then it doesn’t matter, he simply said. I was out of line, I shouldn’t have accused you and I’m sorry. Let’s go to bed, I’ll make it up to you. 

Just say it, she said firmly. If you don’t, I swear to God, I’m packing a suitcase, calling a cab and booking a hotel room. 

I meant addicts like us don’t get to make that kind of mistakes, Y/N, he sighed. Addicts are shitty parents. I should know. 

Wow, she simply scoffed. 

She was staring at him with a look of both pain and disdain. He had obviously struck a chord. She closed her eyes and sighed. 

Why do you even bother with me ? She questioned. Why did you take me back ? 

What do you mean ? He asked nervously. I love you, I want to be with you. 

Why would you want to be with someone who you obviously think is not good enough ?! That’s just stupid, she pointed out. Why bother ? 

What ?! No, Y/N, I don’t… Of course you’re good enough. 

You know, I’m fine with your choices, she said with a hint of sadness. I respect that you’re done with marriage, and that you’re done with having kids. But you thinking I shouldn’t get to have children ? That fucking hurts. 

I’m sorry… 

STOP ! She screamed. You’re not sorry. I was ready to renounce having kids. Because I love you more than any unborn child. But do you even realize how much it hurts to know that if I had actually gotten accidentally pregnant, the person I sacrificed everything to be with would not support me ?! 

He felt his heart strain a little. Seeing the pain on her face made him feel like the worst asshole in the world. To be fair, if she had actually been pregnant, he would have supported her. Sure, he thought abortion would be a better option, but he would never force her. If they had been in that situation - and thank God they weren’t -  he would have stood by her side and supported her to the best of his abilities. He had simply been mean and stupid. Once again, anger had gotten the best of him. 

I would have been there, he said. Of course I would have been. I love you, Y/N. 

But you think I would be a shitty mom, she pointed out. 

I’ve seen addiction ruin families, he explained. It certainly ruined mine, in more ways than one. 

You still think of me as an addict, don’t you ? She asked on the verge of tears. No matter how long I can stay sober, you think I can’t be trusted ever again ? 

I-I don’t know, he replied honestly. In my book, an addict is an addict. I still think of myself as an addict. It doesn’t mean people can’t improve or recover but… It’s tricky. But I love you. I love you more than life itself, baby. 

She looked at him and simply shrugged. No matter what he said, he got the feeling that it would not matter much. He hated that angry side of himself. It wasn’t the first time that his anger got the best of him and ruined everything. He had been to therapy for his anger for years but, right when he thought he had made progress, it had to come and bite him in the ass once again. 

Please talk to me, he begged. Please say something. 

I have my appointment tomorrow morning, she simply said. I’ll pack my things when I get back. I will be out of here by the time you get back from work tomorrow.

[lillysilvermoon]

What your spirit team wishes you saw in yourself?

Pile 1

First of all: your got a LOT os cups, and one of the signs was Pisces, so maybe this is some kind of confirmation for some here, but your spirit team want you to know that your kindness, your sensibility are not a weakness, you regulate your emotions SO MUCH better than you give yourself credit, you really should stop and look back to your past and say to yourself "man.. I have come a long way, I'm pretty good right now" because it's seems like you have experienced so much loss, depression, financial stress and even some abuse os substances (just a few of you, definitely very specific) and look at you now???? If you could seed how people see you... your spirit guides are so proud because, you think you not but you recovered from so much things, you healed so many things.

You are full of new ideas and you are so quick to go after them, specially related to money, if not now, you will be so stable in the future, like, maybe you are in a period of stagnation but soon this will pass and a lot of financial blessings are coming, and they REALLY REALLY wishes you could see how capable you are, you should give more credit for your ideas because they are AWESOME, whatever you are thinking right now: DO IT, it's what will give you so much happiness and money. I'm talking to much about money so I think you worry about this, well, you have all the capacity to live the life you want, to do what you are thinking right now - because I KNOW you are and IT'S GREAT, it's so f*cking awesome and WILL WORK.

I fell you ask to much about your healing and recovery process, and it is this, a process. They wish you could see how far you have come and how much far you will, but you need to have patience. They wish you could see like they see, the big picture, everything you want emotional and financial is possible to achieve, you are so capable you just have to believe in yourself. You have the ideas and the capacity to go after what you want AND GET IT. They want you to know that the happiness you always dreamed about, all this good moments, full of laught and happiness are right at the corner, please make the first step. You.Can!

Signs: Pisces, Gemini and cancer, 2 and 9, Pluto, mars, ascend node, mermaids and dolphins, water places, spring, flowers, books.

P.S: if you are going to some kind of blockage right now: it's will pass, you just need to recovery and so many ideas are coming!!!!!!

P.S²: I think some of you are really craving emotional happiness and stability, happy moments and just happiness in general: your spirit team want you to know that this are coming so so soon, please please please hang there just a bit more, you got the nine and the ten of cups, the ly wish you could see all the happiness that are coming to you, don't lose your faith, you are not alone, they here EVERYTHING you ask and pray for, those things are coming to you soon, they promise (I'm feeling so happy and at the same time so sad and I think it's you so please know: it is coming, this happiness you always dreamed are coming!!!)

Pile 2

I don't know if some of all works with angels or archangels but, you definitely have them in your spirit team!

Your spirit team whises you could see the progress you have done, you probably was holding on to people or situation that weren't good or healthy to you, and even made you have some financial problems and bad change os circumstances, but you putted yourself together and took action, people admire the faith you have and you should think about this more because have faith is hard, not everyone are able to do it easily the way you do. The wish you could see how strong, independent and diligent you are, so many people value your opinions.

The new beginning you have been waiting for so long are coming: for most of you it's a romantic new beginning, but for a good amount is just new relationships, yall were really attached to some toxic people, and you probably felted alone and wished when you would have cool people in your life, your spirit team saw all of this and here is your answer: they are coming, new people and friends are coming to you, got out and socialize, they want you to know to not be scared, the people you meet will kind and with good hearts, I promise (you can come here to tell me if this happens, I will be SO HAPPY to here about your new friends (or lovers?👀). They want you to know that the Divine Love you were wishing for are almost with you, they are doing there on inner work BUT it's finally at the end and you will meet them soon (this is a soulmate just you to know😊❤️).

Harmony and domestical happiness are coming too so if was having fights un your house, don't worry peace is coming.

Signs: 8, 4, 12, Pisces, scorpio and cancer, ascended node, Venus, mercury, beach, clubs, library, Journaling, parks and picnics.

P.S: I felt like I shouldn't use the second tarot but at the end I was hearing like "take three" and I got The Lovers (so yes, it's coming in case you were doubting - I think you doubt about this a lot and they REALLY wish you could see how close you are to meet them. And they also wish you could see how kind your are, you have no idea how many people you have helped just being you, even if it was for 5 minutes you made their day, give some credit for the incredibly person you are.

Pile 3

YOUR CARDS ARE SO FREAKING GOOD OMG😭😭🥺🫶🫶🫶🫶

Okay let's start!!!! First of all, why you poorly about yourself.??????? Your team thinks you are SO GREAT, like really wait its too much information!!!!! You will get EVERYTHING you dreamed about, I think you are into manifestation?? You are truly good AND YOU JUST DON'T BELIEVE you manifested so many things and you don't even realize that lmao they wish you could see how proud they are (and you should be too!!!!!!!) Really, they wish SO BADLY you could see how many things are coming, you are so good at it please PLEAAAAAAASE have a little more faith in your capabilities. Now back to what I was saying first: you always get in any situation with your 2 feet, in a deep level your heart and soul are being nourished and I think you had to be for in the anonymity, maybe you are quite famous in some social media, but you took time and your image are suffering. The want tou to know that this is the best to do now.

Like Pile 2 you are so intelligent and truthful, you are such a good communicator and clear boundaries, I think you didn't had this in the past, well your boundaries are very good now and they are proud and want you to know this. You are also such a good business man/woman, you take care of your finances very well (I think in the past you heard about others people's experiences and chose your field seriously, gained intellectual knowledge, you payed attention in their failures and success and why they went the way they did and what you might do differently. They are so proud of you and want you to know that so many good things are coming to you (The World) really, they wish you could see how many things you will accomplish.

Signs: expensive bags (? I liked this 🤣)? 6,8,5, Aries, scorpio and Taurus, luxury lifestyle, quiet luxury, photography, Ralph Lauren (I wasn't going to write this one but when I was passing I felt a ring SO LOUD on my ears....) travels and cooking (I saw a big kitchen with white decor and was autumn, very cozy vibes)

[chaotic-banana-fish]

ASH LYNX'S NAME

(I already posted this in my main account but thought it was a good idea to repost it here to get the blog going + it has some additions)

I love the possible significance of Ash's different names. He's named Aslan, which means dawn, by his mother, as a symbol for a bright and beautiful beginning, but then he changes it to Ash, which evokes images of death and endings. In the dawn the light is beautiful and soft, while Ash implies burning, perhaps even the burning of oneself.

When Ash reveals his name to be Aslan to Eiji along with its meaning he allows him to see that part of himself as well as allows himself to be that person for a while. With Eiji he doesn't need to burn or destroy, he can be a dawn, which is in a way a sort of rebirth. It's therefore, also symbolic that so many scenes between them occur at dawn or the sunset, as that's what Ash embodies when he's with him, like Max says "just a boy of 17 years". As he lets his guard down around Eiji and calls himself Aslan, he rises from the Ashes of his name like a Phoenix. I like to think this was also somewhat intentional given that his character was based on River *Phoenix*.

I also feel like this really ties into the symbolism of fire in banana fish as well, which in different instances serves as a medium for both destruction and rebirth. For example, Ash uses fire to burn Shorter's body along with the laboratory, and it also appears as a haunting image in the opening, with Ash staring directly into it. Fire however, is also what rids Ash of his past, as Max burns all photographs and evidence of it. His name is just like that as well, Ash implies destruction, yet also rebirth as a phoenix that can rise from the Ashes, perhaps also showcasing his capability for recovery, that despite what he might've thought he wasn't unsalvageable. This is also present in "RED" one of the outros, with the lyric "if I decide to burn (like ash) instead of fading out (like dawn)". Which once again shows the two sides of Ash and the way they're embodied in his names, as well as the idea that perhaps after all, he did have a choice, unlike the leopard from the story he tells Eiji. (Conversation which I may add, happens at dawn.)

Finally, in Garden of Light, Eiji puts up a picture of him in a gallery (it's one of him sat at the window, calm) and titles it "Dawn". Obviously this reflects the actual background of the picture, as well as his name in a subtle way. But with it he's also choosing to remember Ash for his gentleness and brightness rather than the burning violence his life ignited in him. Ash is remembered by who he really was, or rather who he should've been able to be. His real name however, Aslan, Eiji keeps for himself, a touch of light that only he'll ever know.

Aslan was a Dawn cut short, by a sun that came too soon, too cruel, now re-birthed and remembered, by the eyes that caught its light before it burned into Ash.

[lazyneonrabbitt]

Anyway I can request a Gallzatto x Female!Reader imagine? Maybe it’s after she gives birth to the twins and they’re all coming home and it’s just about them adjusting and taking care of their little family and their woman as well since she went through a pretty complicated pregnancy and birth? (bonus points on these guys being addicted to her boobs more than usual now they they’re bigger than usual and full of milk?)

This one gets smutty at the end because I feel a certain way about boyfriends and their girlfriend's big, milky tits 💦💦🔞🔞

But oh man those two? They somehow planned your entire recovery period, even the tiniest details not forgotten. Aparently they had managed to plan it all while the doctors fixed you up and checked on the babies.

You didn't have to stay in the hospitsl for longer than that day, so late at night all five of you walked through your apartment door. All three parents still smiling widely as they, for what felt like the millionth time, stared down at their beautiful baby daughters.

Rose and Lily.

With momma mostly having to stay on bedrest the boys are spending all your sleeping moments together to bathe their baby girls, make quick meals for you, cleaning duty all day. They're putting any stay at home dad to shame with their teamwork.

I think this is the time that the two of them really start to be each others' boyfriends too, as well as being yours, sharing quick kisses and touches.

When it was time for the babies to feed they'd wake you oh so carefully, help you sit up and watch over their girls, burp them after feeding and absolutely be talking all obsessively about how great your tits look now, admitting to almost being jealous of the little ones being the only ones allowed to touch them right now.

They're in detail discussing the topic, Lip being whiny about how he misses being intimate with you while Carmy agrees but adds he's more curious as to how you taste. "Oh fuck, man. Now you're making ne imagine it." Lip drags a hand over his face, looking up with a sigh. "Not cool, man." Carmen only laughs at his now shared curiosity.

With every passing week and doctor appointment you were able do to more stuff by yourself, being awake at normal hours again and properly spending time with your family. With you being on bedrest for so long, you were relying on the boys showing all the right ways to care for your daughters. Closely watching them as one explained while the other showed you. They hovered like crazy in the beginning, slowly letting you do things all.on your own as they saw you were handling your babies well enough.

Eventually you felt good enough to suggest going out for a short walk, really wanting to be outside for a bit after feeling locked up for so long and only being out once to have the babies, and being stuck inside directly after.

With the walk going well and only leaving you exhausted from the amount of activity, the boys started plotting to get you back in bed with them. The knew you were still off-limits when it came to having sex until the doctors gave you the green light to start easing into it again.

But hey, you were up and around again so the second your daughters were asleep, they lured you to bed. "For cuddles, we missed being with you." Carmen's argument stupidly enough made sense in your eyes so you let them go on. You laid down in the middle, one boy at each of your sides, arms draped over your stomach and kisses being strategically placed frkm yojr jaw down to thelow cut neckline of your top that they simultaniously pulled down to reveal the feeding bra that covered your soft breasts.

They both let out a content hum as you hadn't tried to stop them yet and both of them undid the button at the top of each cup. Pulling them down they continued their trail of kisses over the swell of your full chest, stopping right at your nipples and cautiously licking to test your response.

Whwn your hands ended up in their hair almost immediately they shot each other a panicked glance, thinking they were in deep shit until they realised you weren't doing anything to pull them away. Lip only wanted to play, so he placed some more wet kisses as Carmy pressed his tongue down and licked before both of them latched on and sucked softly. You did your best to stay quiet so the babies wouldn't wake up but the feeling of them drinking from you was too good. Carmen's hand came up to your breast to squeeze it, tasting you more and more. Lip's traveled south to the inside of your thigh, rutting against the plush of your leg.

After a moment your fingers tugged at their hair, telling them it's been enough for now and reminding them this was their daughters' food supply, not for their horny snack times.

[lockpickingliar]

Ouma Kokichi (Cookie) on The Hospital

Nine days ago, I was finally discharged from the hospital. Graduated to in-home palliative care, since my DOA symptoms have slowly reduced enough that I could sit up on my own at times, stomach light solid foods, breathe without assistance for the most part.

I was so scared at first. That's a lie. I didn't really think it was something that would ever happen, though. In the beginning, I had no intention of recovering and enjoying my afterlife. I brought this death on myself. I fully intended to atone for everything I had done. For all the people that died on my watch, for the three people—or I guess, two people—that I directly led to their deaths. The people that I killed, either by negligence or direct involvement.

Do you think I'm lying?

But then there I was, settled into an apartment with Ran-chan. Everyone worked so hard to help me to get there. I still have so many medicines to take, little machines and whatnot on hand in case my lungs start acting up, a wheelchair just to go from one room to another. Still, I was out. DICE threw me the biggest party they could, too. A whole shebang with fireworks and everything, partly to celebrate the end of summer, and partly to celebrate this milestone in my recovery.

It feels like a lie, now.

I'm back at square one. Back in that damn hospital room. None of my organs are cooperating, my head is so hazy it's hard to even write this post, and all I can think about is how I failed.

They're dead because of me.

Because I couldn't lead them well enough.

Maybe that discharge was a false hope. Who am I kidding? I don't deserve this. Freedom. A happy afterlife. Not after everything that happened. Everything I did. Everyone I hurt.

I want to die under that press once for every person who died on my watch.

But I'm lying again.

I might deserve it, though.

I wonder if Saihara-chan thinks I deserve it.

This all started because I found out more about him, and what happened after I got here.

Turns out in my universe, my plan actually worked. Crazy, right? I guess the one little detail of me keeping my clothes instead of flushing them like in canon made a major difference. Or maybe Momota-chan did a better job of pulling his weight.

That's probably it.

I'm just glad he pulled it off and broke the system. Ended the killing game. Didn't have to be executed. He still died from his illness, but I can at least rest easy that his death doesn't fall on my laundry list of responsibility.

That's a lie.

If I'd done a better job leading, we might've gotten out sooner, and he might've been able to get to a doctor and live.

I don't feel responsible for anyone's deaths. I did what I had to do to survive...

But that left me alone.

And to Saihara, I always would be.

He meant that. He meant every word. I don't hate him for it, though. I hate him. I could never hate him for being right. I hate him. How could he have thought any other way? I hate him.

Even after I died, nothing changed about how he viewed me. It makes sense, since my plan worked, he never had to go into my room. It's not like he even could, since my room key was with me when I died. If he cared enough, I figured he'd have to find a way in himself. To prove how much he cared. I refused to just give him the answers so easily, after all the work I put in.

He never saw any of that work, though, so it doesn't matter.

They want to bring him here. They want to make him understand. I'm not sure if there's anything for him to understand. I want to talk to him. To make sure Team Danganronpa is gone for good, and if not, to make sure it's burnt to cinders. That's a lie. I want him to move on with his life. I don't want him to be haunted by the past.

I should really stop lying so much. I don't even know where I was going with this.

I wanted my post about my discharge to be happy, y'know. To talk about how grateful I was to everyone in DICE for helping me see hope again. I never meant for this to happen. I wanted to keep getting better for them. Maybe this was bound to happen, though.

This hospital room is just where I'm meant to be for eternity, suffering to make up for everyone I failed.

[fanfoolishness]

a rain that sounds like home (7/8)

After the destruction of Tantiss, the Bad Batch is safe at last. As Crosshair begins to recover from his injuries, it becomes apparent that not all of his scars are physical, and that guilt and grief are wounds that cut deeper than any blade. His family is determined to be there for him -- if only he can let them in.

Canon-compliant, focusing on PTSD, amputation recovery, and sibling grief, with plenty of whump, hurt/comfort, and emotional catharsis. Set shortly after the return from Tantiss and my fic Breaching the Wall. 43,000 words total.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 8

Chapter 7: Release.

Echo brings a gift for Crosshair, but things go wrong when Crosshair's trauma finally catches up to him. Crosshair and Omega POV. 7818 words. Art post here.

---

“So how’s it feel to take a break from saving the galaxy?” Crosshair asked.  He sat perched on a rocky outcropping ringing a small natural pool, his feet submerged in the water, toes digging into the sand.  Batcher waded placidly in the surf beyond the rocks before taking off to chase after Omega, who let out a whoop of delight before running over to where Hunter and Wrecker were building a citadel out of sand and stones.

Echo chuckled from where he sat beside Crosshair, reaching up with his left hand to shade his eyes.  While there were clouds smudging the horizon, the sun was still fierce today.  “You’ve got a high opinion of what we’ve been up to.”

”Tell me I’m wrong,” Crosshair challenged.

”We like to think we’re making a difference,” said Echo.  “Time will tell.  But we’ve been able to start cleaning up some of Tantiss’ messes.  Hemlock had smaller operations elsewhere and we’ve been able to start shutting them down.  We’ve gotten more clones out.”

Crosshair nodded.  “Good.”  His mouth quirked to one side.  “Cody?”

”No.  Sorry, Crosshair.”

Crosshair nodded.  He knew Echo would have told him, but he couldn’t help but ask.  

“So what do you think?” Crosshair asked.  He gestured to Hunter and Wrecker, now being half-buried in the sand by Omega.  Batcher rolled around in the sand, making funny little noises that carried on the breeze to where Crosshair and Echo sat.  

“I think Pabu suits you all,” Echo said.  He smiled.  “The house is great.  Never pictured you or Hunter being domestic, but it works.  And Omega — she’s really happy here, isn’t she?”

”She is.  She misses you, but she gets it.”  Crosshair reached up, wiping the sweat from his brow. 

We miss you, he thought but didn’t say.

They fell silent.  Crosshair gazed into the pool, noting little fish with small tendrils around their mouths darting near his feet.  A crab-like creature in fluorescent violet crept at the far end of the pool, waving two pairs of pincers and dancing back and forth.  The tentacles of blue and green anemones drifted back and forth with every small movement of the water.

“Did you bring it?” Crosshair asked in a low voice.

”Yeah,” said Echo.  “Just waiting on you.  Did you tell the others?”

Crosshair rubbed his right arm.  “No.  Not yet.  I wanted to make sure….”  His voice trailed.

”That it would work?”

”Uh-huh.”

”We can have AZI come by anytime.  After dinner or —“

Crosshair pictured Wrecker peering over his shoulder, Omega’s wide eyes, Hunter grimly watching.  He couldn’t take that kind of pressure.  “Maybe just you and me.”  

“We could sneak off.  But we’ll need a distraction…”

They watched as Wrecker erupted from the sand, chasing after Omega like some kind of crazed monster, clouds of sand flying everywhere with each leap he took after her.  Hunter roused himself from his own sand prison, letting out a whoop as he ran after them.

Echo snorted.  ”Yeah, that’ll work.”

---

They put in the call to AZI a few minutes later, once they got back to the house.  The droid had set up a little medical clinic in Upper Pabu but also made house calls.  Crosshair and Echo sat in the kitchen, waiting for the droid to arrive.  

On the table before them sat a sleek chromium crate.  Crosshair stared at it, his leg jittering under the table.  He bit down on his toothpick, shredding it between his teeth.  At last he reached out and flipped the lid of the crate open to look inside.

A metallic hand lay in the box, glinting beneath the lights.  He picked it up gingerly, cradling it in his left hand, holding it near his stump.  Its joints curled slightly with its own weight as he shifted it.  It was colder than he’d thought it would be, but it matched the size of his real hand closely.  He tried to picture it articulating, gripping, holding a blaster — or a razor.  His face twisted and he set it back down within the crate.

”Synthskin is harder to get,” Echo said quietly.  “I can keep looking —“

Crosshair shrugged.  “A glove’s fine.”

“You ready for this?”

”Not exactly.  But it’s not like I was ready to lose it, either.”

The door chimed, and Crosshair got up to key it open.  The medical droid hovered there cheerfully, flying in with a twirl.  

“CT-9904!  CT-1409!  It is a pleasure to see you both today. I understand you are in need of my services for attachment of a prosthetic.  How are you feeling, CT-9904?”

”Fine.  Can we get on with it?” he asked, fighting back his nerves.

”Very well.  Where would you like us to proceed?”

“Maybe the bedroom,” Crosshair said.  “I don’t know about doing surgery in the kitchen.”  

Echo laughed.  “Might not be the most hygienic, depending on who’s cooking.”

They moved to the bedroom, and Crosshair had to admit the droid was efficient, scanning his arm as soon as he sat down.  Echo sat beside him.

“Your healing has progressed well, CT-9904.  Your amputation site should be able to support this prosthetic without complication.”

”All right.”  That, at least, he hadn’t failed at.

“I will begin by installing the interface between the organic components of your arm and nervous system and the cybernetics of the prosthetic.”  The droid hovered over to him, taking his arm, a flurry of needles pricking his skin and numbing it before the droid held up something that looked like a slender microchip.  Crosshair looked away, feeling only a faint sense of pressure.  “The installment is not permanent.  You will be able to remove the prosthetic as desired, whether it is for cleaning, repairs or replacement.  Simply twist and release to undo the locking mechanism.”

”All right so far, Crosshair?” Echo asked.

Crosshair nodded, his mouth a thin line.  Until he remembered what the droid had just said.  “What do you mean, there’s an interface?” Crosshair asked.  “That’s just where it attaches, right?”

”That is what it looks like at the surface level, yes, but the interface interacts directly with the remnants of the radial and ulnar nerves, and from there to the brain.  This allows for precision control of the prosthetic and a true cybernetic melding of organic and synthetic.”

Crosshair stiffened.

”So… it would be controlled like my real hand?”

”Yes.  With practice, you should be able to achieve proficiency and dexterity equal to that of your natural hand.”

Echo’s eyes widened slightly, understanding his fear, but he didn’t say anything.

Are you saying it’s in my head?

Crosshair’s mouth went dry.  “What if I — I don’t want it to interface?  Couldn’t I turn that off?”

”That is the only way the prosthetic will function,” AZI said.  “It is a feature of its design.”  The droid tilted his head at Crosshair, blinking his huge yellow eyes.  For a moment, they looked disturbingly like Tech’s goggles. “Do you prefer I not proceed?”

He was afraid. Shaking, jerking, uncontrolled, weak…

He was terribly afraid.

But Echo had done this for him.  Omega would be proud of him for trying.  Hunter and Wrecker would ease off his back if he could show them he was getting better, especially with something big like this.

”Just get on with it,” he said.

He closed his eyes, gritting his teeth against his toothpick.  Even though he wasn’t looking, and the skin had been temporarily numbed, he could still sense a pressure, hear the sounds of clicking and whirring.  And then suddenly there was a new weight on the end of his right arm, slightly heavier than the weight of his left arm, dragging it downard unexpectedly.  

One last click, and then he felt it.

He opened his eyes with a gasp.  He stretched out his fingers, haltingly, one at a time.  The metallic fingers whirred with a soft subtle sound.  He reached out to touch the new hand with his left, and jerked backward, realizing that he could feel the sensation in both hands.

”I — I can feel it,” Crosshair said, his voice cracking.  He looked at Echo with wild eyes.  “It’s  working!”

Echo gave him a smile.  “Looks that way.”

“Your new prosthetic is fully installed,” AZI said.  “There are multiple exercises I would recommend to help accustom you to using your new hand, as it will take your brain some time to readjust.  I can review them with you now if you wish, or link them to a datapad —“

”Datapad,” said Crosshair.  “I’ll look at them later.”  He let out a long breath.  “Let me just… get used to it for now.”  He stood up, using both hands to push himself off the bed.  It was a dizzying sensation, the palm and fingers of his right hand curling around the edge of the bed, pushing upward, slackening once he rose to his feet.  “Thanks, AZI.  Echo.”

”How’s it feel?” Echo asked as they walked the droid back to the front door.  

“Strange.  But… familiar.”

The droid left the exercises on the datapad on the dining table, then took his leave.  Echo and Crosshair turned and looked at each other.

”Well, now what?” Crosshair asked.  He clasped his hands together.  He clasped his hands together.  The sensation was strange — the asymmetry between the two hands was apparent, but there were two of them.  He felt half-faint with hope, with something light and free. 

Echo looked at him proudly.  “Whatever you want, Crosshair.  What do you feel like?”

He could stop having to rely on them.  Show them he’d recovered.  Show Omega everything was fine.

He tried reaching down to the pouch of toothpicks on his belt with his right hand.  His fingers took a moment longer than usual to make the required movements, but still managed it, and he inserted the toothpick between his lips.  He flashed Echo a tight grin, and Echo laughed, clapping him on the back.  

It wasn’t long until Hunter, Wrecker and Omega tromped in, still half-soaked and shedding sand as they came through the front door.  “Oh no you don’t,” said Crosshair, getting up from where he had been sitting with Echo.  “You’ll make a mess.  Let me get you a fresh towel.”  He crossed the distance to where they stood, and held out a pile of towels in his right hand.

There was a beat.  Then a soft gasp from Omega, her hand flying up to cover her mouth.  “Crosshair!”

”You went for it!” Wrecker exclaimed.  

Hunter smiled at him.  “How’s it feel?”

”It feels fine.  Take your towels, you’re dripping,” Crosshair said coolly.  He shoved the towels at them, but couldn’t hide a smile.

”So that’s where you two went!” Omega said with a hint of accusation.  She wrapped her towel around herself and kicked off her beach shoes.  “Can I see?”

”Sure,” he said.  He held out his right arm, opening and closing the hand.  “I’ll have to find a glove.  Might scare the kids.”

”I don’t think it’s scary.  I think it’s interesting,” Omega said.  She slipped her hands over his, peering up at his face.  “Can you feel that?”

”Yes.”  It wasn’t the same as his real hand, but he could feel the pressure of her grip, the sensation of her warm skin brushing against the metal of the constructed palm and fingers.  He squeezed her hand, tentatively, making sure not to squeeze too hard and hurt her.  

The effort of focusing made his head ache and his wrist prickle.  He shook the sensations away.  Maybe AZI’s exercises would help sort that out.

”Where did you find it, Echo?” Hunter asked, drying off.  

“One of Phee’s contacts knew a seller,” said Echo. “Pulled a few strings.  AZI got things set up.”

“You sure were sneaky about it,” Wrecker said, finishing with his towel and laying it around his shoulders.

“There’s nothing wrong with privacy,” Crosshair said loftily.  Wrecker snorted.  Crosshair knew Wrecker had never understood the concept.

“Well, looks good, Crosshair,” said Wrecker, giving him a wide smile.  

Crosshair lifted his hand and raised his first two fingers to his temple, then shifted his hand out in a slightly sarcastic salute to his brother.  The hand obeyed his thoughts, and though there was a slight delay from when he planned the movement to when it happened, it was still working.  It scarcely felt real, yet it was.  Somehow, it was.

He grinned.  He couldn’t help it.

---

“So what am I supposed to be doing here?” Crosshair asked, looking down at the baskets of fresh produce Omega had set out.  They stood together in the kitchen while Echo, Wrecker and Hunter caught up in the living room.  Batcher sat patiently between Crosshair and Omega, watching hopefully in case any food was dropped.

“I’m trying soup tonight!” Omega said.  She stood up on the kitchen stepstool and propped up her datapad against the wall with Lyana’s recipe displayed.  “I had it over at Shep and Lyana’s.  It’s really good, but it has a lot of steps, and I thought maybe you could help me with the chopping.  You know, for practice!” she said.

He nodded.  “Right.”  He held out his cybernetic hand, curling the fingers into a fist and then releasing them, then hesitantly picking up the knife.

“You only have to chop these,” Omega said quickly. 

“And how big is chop again?”

“Chop is big.  Dice is small.  Mince is insanely small.  Just chopping.”  She estimated the size with her thumb and forefinger, holding them up to Crosshair.  

“I think I can do that.”  He set to work with a large deeproot, bracing it with his left hand, cutting slow careful rows into it with his new hand.  Each chop took him time to line up, followed by a moment to carefully sink the blade into the vegetable’s flesh.  He was going slowly to avoid cutting himself.  Omega watched him closely, even though she knew she had other parts of the meal to prepare for; it was just mesmerizing to see Crosshair focusing, to see him with both hands, to see him doing this with her.

There was a small ahem.  She looked up to see him giving her an amused look.  “I thought I was helping you with dinner, not doing it all myself.”

“I just got distracted,” Omega said, unable to keep from smiling.  She turned back to the water she was starting to boil for the noodles.  “It’s just… you look happier.  And you’re doing a really good job.  How does it feel?”

He considered.  “It’s not the same as before.  I have to think about how to use it.  The droid said that should improve.”

“I’m sure it will never feel exactly the same, but hopefully it starts to feel like second nature!  Like when you first started training with your rifle, or when I started with my bow,” Omega said, finishing washing the last of the produce.  “I hope this turns out all right.  I know Echo can be picky.”

“Don’t let him hear you say that,” Crosshair said in a low voice, winking.  

Omega giggled.  “He can look so stern when he wants to.”

“Mm-hm.”  Slow, careful chop, chop, chop.    

“How much longer is he staying?” 

“I don’t know.  You’ll have to ask him,” said Crosshair.  “He said he might be able to fit in a supply run for the island tomorrow before he gets back to it.”  He finished with the deeproot and reached for a pile of mallow tubers.  Omega added the chopped deeproot to the soup base, which already smelled lovely from the spices she’d added. Once the vegetables had sauteed, she’d add the broth, and hopefully it would all work together.  

“It’s good he’s been out there fighting,” Omega said quietly.  She’d been thinking since last week, when she’d had that horrible nightmare about Hemlock and the bridge again.  Everything that man had touched needed to be stamped out, and if her brother Echo was the one who had to be out on the front lines, destroying any last traces of Hemlock’s work, she understood.  Thinking of it that way had helped soothe some of the sense of missing him, and she’d felt lighter all week.  “We’ll always have room for him here, but I know he’s not done yet.”

“No.  You can never keep a good ARC trooper down,” Crosshair agreed.  He added the chopped mallow tubers to the pot and Omega gave them a good stir.  They sizzled, commingling with the spices.  “What else do you have?”

“These are really good,” Omega said, passing him the sea onions.  “They don’t take as long to cook, so they go in after the roots.”  

“The cooking part is all you,” he said.  “I’d probably burn it all.”  He got to work on the sea onions, mouth thinning in concentration.  They had a different texture than the roots and Omega knew from experience they were a little trickier to chop.

“Thanks again,” Omega said.  

“For helping with dinner?  We all have chores.”

“Well, that too, but the other night,” Omega said shyly.  She cast a glance back at her brothers in the living room, still talking amongst themselves.  “I’ve been meditating again before going to sleep, and I haven’t had any more bad dreams.  I’m glad you didn’t listen when I told you to get out of my room.”

He glanced at her, his expression soft.  “Just wanted to help.”

“You did,” she said, reaching out and patting his arm.  Her nightmares of Tantiss, Hemlock, the bridge, they all felt so far away now with Crosshair here and safe beside her, the rest of her family in the next room, everyone safe and healthy.  She sighed contentedly, taking a big whiff of the vegetables, which were starting to smell delicious.  “It’s like… I still had this weight I was holding onto.  Like Tantiss was something that I couldn’t ever leave.  But now —“

Crosshair’s knife clattered to the counter.  She looked over hurriedly.  “Did you cut yourself?”

He looked pale, tense, every line of him rigid and angular as he stared down at his new hand.  He shook his head just slightly.  “No.”

”Are you okay?”

Batcher whined, nudging Crosshair’s leg.

He picked up the knife again in his right hand, taking a deep breath.  “Here’s the onions.” He scooped them towards her and she added them to the soup.  

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

He set down his knife and reached for a toothpick, coming up with it and setting it in his mouth with his new hand.  His eyes darted back and forth, but his face was impassive, back to a cool mask.  “The onions sting.”

She squinted, feeling their fumes rise up from the pot.  “Yeah, they do.”  She fiddled with the spoon, stirring clockwise, then counterclockwise.  “But anyway.  Thank you.  For helping me with dinner.  And the other night.  And… taking care of yourself.”  She nudged him with her shoulder.  

He looked faintly exasperated, but his eyes were fond.  “You don’t have to look after me.”

”Don’t have to, but I want to.”  

“Hm.”

She glanced up at him again, hoping to see him smiling.  But his face tensed again, the lines between his brows tighter than usual, and she turned back to the soup, disquieted.

---

Crosshair stood in the refresher, holding his right wrist and staring at his new hand.  He examined every facet of the hand, every joint, every hinge, every turn and twist.  Everything was perfect.  It was metal, cool where flesh was warm, different…  but perfect.

But he’d dropped the knife while chopping vegetables.  Had his hand shaken?  Or had it been a momentary lapse, a disconnect between the new technology and his body?  

AZI had said it could take time to get used to.  That’s all it was.  It had to be.

You should achieve dexterity equal to your natural hand….

He bit his lower lip, remembering just how useless his natural hand had become.

He stared at his hand, almost daring it to tremble, but it rested still and calm on the edge of the sink.  He shook his head.  

It’d be fine.  There was no alternative.  He was fine.

He left the ‘fresher, joining the others around the table.  Omega had finished making her soup and was just finishing setting out a bowl at his seat.  Batcher was curled under the table, ready for tidbits.

“What’s up, Crosshair?  Upset tummy?” Wrecker asked.  

“Sorry to disappoint,” Crosshair said in a withering tone.  He looked down at the soup, somewhat impressed to see his chopped vegetables didn’t look too uneven.  

“Well, let’s give this a try,” Omega said, plunging her spoon into her bowl.  She blew on her spoonful first to cool it, then hesitantly put it into her mouth.  Her eyebrows rose.  “Hey, it’s pretty good!”

Crosshair followed her lead, holding the spoon in his right hand.  The movements to get the spoon into the bowl were a little jerky, a little stiff, but he was able to take a spoonful of soup only slightly slower than the others.  It was good, a rich and filling broth with fish and vegetables.  He focused on taking another spoonful, and another, his hand obeying him slightly more smoothly with each attempt.  He’d eaten half the bowl this way before he looked up and saw the others deep in conversation.  He’d been focusing so sharply he’d completely blocked them out.

“Emerie sends her regards,” Echo said to Omega.  “She’s back at base, working on analyzing some of the data we lifted from the secondary lab on Arvela-4.”

Omega nodded.  “I’m proud of her.  I’m so glad she changed her mind, in the end.  I always hoped she would, but I couldn’t ever reach her all the way.”  She frowned, as if she wished things had been different, but the disappointment lasted only a moment.  “I just never thought it would be you who changed her mind!”

Echo chuckled.  “The way she tells it, it was a perfect storm.  You started her thinking about it.  Then the kids.  Then I showed up.”

“It must have been some lecture you hit her with,” Crosshair said slyly.  His own interactions with Emerie had been less brutal than those with Hemlock, of course, but they hadn’t exactly been warm and fuzzy, and the best he could muster up for her was neutrality.  He was glad she was being useful, though.

“Yeah, no one can stand up to Echo for long when he gives you that look,” Wrecker agreed, finishing off his soup and setting his bowl down.  “Going for seconds, anyone else want more?”  He got to his feet.

“I’m good,” said Hunter.  “But this was delicious, Omega.  We should keep this recipe around.  Maybe I could figure it out, too.”

“It really wasn’t that hard,” Omega said, beaming.  “And Crosshair helped.”

“Hardly.  It was all you.”  He took another spoonful of soup, which had started to cool off, but his hand continued to obey him.  Maybe it’s going to be fine.  “You’re getting good at this cooking thing.”

She gave him one of those dazzling smiles, and went back to eating her soup, her cheeks pink.

“You said Emerie’s working on data from Arvela-4.  Anything useful?” Hunter asked as Wrecker sat down with another bowl.

Echo raised his eyebrow.  “I thought you were staying out of things.” 

“I am.  We are,” Hunter protested.  “Doesn’t mean I can’t stay informed.”  He gave Echo a rueful smile.  “Besides, old habits die hard.”

“Fair enough,” said Echo.  “Emerie’s given us more information on some of the side projects Hemlock had cooking -- you should have seen what his plans were for the zillo beast!  Good job getting her out, Omega -- but there’s still layers of encryption on some of the other data we don’t have a hope of getting through.  Maybe Tech would have been able to make sense of some of it--”

Crosshair’s hand jerked, his spoon clattering violently in his bowl as his fingers trembled.

He stared down into the bowl, struggling to keep his breath calm, his eyes burning as his hand slowly quieted.  He could feel his siblings staring at him.  He let out a long breath through his nostrils, blinking rapidly.

“Crosshair?” Echo said quietly.

“It’s nothing,” Crosshair hissed.  “I’m just getting used to it.”  He dropped the spoon into his bowl, then quickly tried to hide his hand under the table, willing it to stop shaking. 

Stop it.  Stop it!

Batcher licked his hand under the table.  He recoiled.  He knew she was only trying to help.  But the touch was an electric frisson boiling up his arm and back to his brain.  He balled up his hand into a fist, pulling it away from the hound.

Hunter, sitting beside him, reached out to pat him on the shoulder, but Crosshair pulled back and dodged the attempt.  “It’s fine.  You don’t have to --”

“I said it’s nothing,” he snarled.  But under the table he could still feel it, shaking and twisting against his thigh.

His heart rattled in his chest, his breath coming too fast.  They were all staring at him, Omega’s face full of pity, Hunter and Wrecker concerned, Echo looking saddened -- 

“Stop staring at me.”  He practically spat the words out.  Nothing was wrong.  He’d imagined it, he’d just been clumsy, it wasn’t the tremor coming back, it couldn’t be --  He whipped his arm out from under the table and grabbed his spoon, determined to get back to eating, and his hand trembled so badly the spoon fell to the table, bounced, and rolled off onto the ground.

“Crosshair,” said Echo in a low voice.  He held out his hand.  “Take a moment.  It’s okay.”

“How is this okay?” Crosshair fired back, raising his voice.  He could feel it, he was losing control, but he couldn’t stop himself.  Couldn’t fight the anger, the disappointment, the shame --

Omega stared at him with huge eyes, and Wrecker put his arm around her, drawing her close.  “Hey, don’t worry about it.  We can help --”

“Remember, AZI said this might happen,” Echo said slowly.  “That it might function like your real hand.  But this is just the first day.  It can get better.”

“Does this look better to you?”  He slammed his fist down on the table, spilling the rest of his soup over the edge of the bowl, the silverware jumping.  His fist shivered.  He stared at Echo, panting.

“The droid said there’s exercises.  It’ll take time,” Echo said, keeping his voice as soothing as possible.  It grated in Crosshair’s ears, winding him up further.  “It took time for me, remember?  I had to adjust to going back into action, the Kaminoans had to do a lot of work, Tech helped me--”

Tech’s name shattered the last remnant of his composure.  A sick fury roiled up within him, blurring the edges of his awareness, tainting everything with a burning, agonized rage.  He leapt to his feet and Echo stood up with him, holding out his hands in a placating gesture.  It didn’t matter, too little, too late.  

He thrust out his hand where they could see it.  The metal hand’s fingers trembled faintly at first, then more aggressively into a twisting flutter, the fingers jerking spasmodically against the palm.

He’d never leave Tantiss, not really.

“Look at it!” Crosshair raged, waving his quaking hand in Echo’s face.  “It will never be better!  I’ll never be —”  He clawed at it with his left hand, gripping the metal hand as hard as he could and twisting until he felt a click.  He shuddered at the sensation of feeling his left hand twist his right hand off, the sudden return to feeling only his stump, prickling with its new attachment point.  The hand was a hunk of metal again, disconnected once more from his brain, and he shoved it into Echo’s chest hard enough for the other clone to stumble where he stood.

“Crosshair, stop it --”

“You shouldn’t have bothered,” he choked.  “It’s useless.  I’m --”

He had to get out of here.  He elbowed Echo out of the way as the others rose to their feet.  He rushed past them.  He couldn’t be around them like this.  He couldn’t be around himself like this.  He stumbled to the front door, smacking the wall panel with his left fist until the door opened, and bolting out into the open air.

He couldn’t breathe.  He took great gulping breaths, trying to bring in air, but it didn’t work, it didn’t work, every breath seared.  He looked wildly around the path on the side of the house, stormed around the corner to the patio and sank to his knees.  He cradled his right arm against his chest, gripping his wrist so hard his fingernails bit and tore into the skin.  The pinpoints of pain felt distant and muted.  They were happening to someone else.

He bowed over himself, gasping for air.

There was no point in trying.  There was no better he would get.  He was ruined.  Doomed to his right hand being gone or useless, doomed to always needing help, doomed to make things harder for everyone else, doomed to fall apart when the others were moving on.

He’d lost the only thing he was ever good at, and no matter what they did, that would always be true.  What good was he now?

Through the maelstrom, he sensed something.  Something familiar.  Eyes — eyes on me —

His head snapped up, and he looked around wildly.  Hunter stood beside the house several feet away, one hand resting on the wall.

“Get out of here.”

”Crosshair.  Please.  Let us help.”  Hunter looked infuriatingly calm.

”Let you help —“ Crosshair closed his eyes.  “There’s nothing you can do.”

”Sure there is,” Hunter said, edging closer to him, crouching down closer to Crosshair’s level.  “We can get AZI back to look at it.  Echo said there’s exercises.  There’s Omega’s meditation.  We weren’t born soldiers, we had to train, remember?  So train for this.”

He shook his head.  “Can’t do it.”

”You can.  I know you can,” Hunter said, shifting a little closer.    “And if it’s not perfect?  It’s okay.  We don’t have to have a hundred percent success rate anymore.”

He didn’t care that Hunter’s words made sense.  They made sense for the others, not for him.  ”It isn’t good enough!  I can’t keep being useless like this, Hunter!” he burst out.

Hunter sat down cautiously beside him, and Crosshair let him, too worn down to push him away.  He glared at him instead.

“You’re not useless, Crosshair.  Hand or no hand.  Believe me.”  Hunter sighed.   “You’re one of us, whether you like it or not.  And you don’t need a hand for that.”

Crosshair tried to catch his breath.  Tried to think things through.  But it was all a painful, disorienting blur.  At last he said, “I thought — if I could make this work, that it’d fix everything.  But it won’t work.”

”Why not?  Let’s just call AZI —” Hunter tried.

”The droid will say the problem’s organic.  My nerves.  My head.  I’m the fucking problem,” Crosshair growled.  

“Damn it.  You’re not a problem!” Hunter snapped, glaring back at him.  “Why can’t you understand that?”

“If you think that, you don’t understand me at all.”

“So help me understand,” Hunter said.  “We’re not soldiers anymore.  You can let it go.  All of it.”

“How can I let go -- when --”  He couldn’t even get the words out.  There was something clawing inside him, a wound he’d been burying under his missing hand, Tantiss, Mayday, Kamino, everything he’d done, something he couldn’t dare examine.  But a face in his mind’s eye blotted out everything.  “When I never got to —” He couldn’t say it. Couldn’t even think it.

He stared down at his stump.  Specks of blood dotted his arm where his fingernails had torn into the skin.  Before he could stop himself he whispered, “He could have fixed it.”

”Cross?” Hunter asked, his face softening.  

“Tech could have fixed it!” he shouted, and suddenly the weight of what he had just said crashed over him, sucking out the air in his lungs, crumbling the last of the walls he’d built up after Kaller, Kamino, Tantiss.  It was too much, too much, too much.

Tech was gone, and he wouldn’t fix anything ever again.

He froze, staring at Hunter, who looked stricken.  Hunter reached out cautiously.  He laid his hand on Crosshair’s arm.

It was such a small touch.  Just the simple weight of Hunter’s hand, warm and sturdy.  He’d carried burdens far heavier a thousand times.  He took a shaky breath.  He was fine —

The sobs exploded out of him with a violence that nearly made him sick.  His eyes screwed shut, tears forcing their way out to streak his face.  Crosshair sank against Hunter, sobbing in a way he’d never let himself before, shoulders heaving, silent in one breath, his voice a hoarse and wordless cry the next. He couldn’t stop it; it was a wave churning him under, drowning him in grief, a force far bigger than himself. All he could do was take breath after raw, ragged breath.  It poured out of him, Tech, Tantiss, Mayday, his hand, his mistakes, his failures, a corrosive guilt he’d been carrying for years now.

And Hunter put his arm around him, saying nothing, but saying everything.

He didn’t know how long he cried, or what made him stop.  The sobs slowed to slow, shuddering breaths, then faded into quiet, hitching exhales.  He felt as drained and boneless as he had after Kamino, after Barton IV, after CX training.  At last he managed to open his swollen eyelids, realizing that the sun had fallen and the sky was deep in blues and grays and blacks.  He let go of his right arm, noting how his fingernails had left bloodied half-moons in the skin of his wrist.  

He lifted his head and pulled away from Hunter, slowly, stiffly.  Hunter let him go, looking at him quietly, without judgment.

Hunter, who had stayed with him instead of leaving, stayed and held him through the storm.  

“I should’ve been there, Hunter,” he whispered.  Hunter let him speak, and he kept searching for the words, dropping his gaze so that he didn’t have to look his brother in the eye.  “If I’d gone with you on Kamino… he’d still be alive.”

“You can’t live on ifs, Crosshair,” said Hunter, his voice rough.  “You can’t die by them, either.”

“But Tech will never know,” he managed, his voice shaking, tears threatening again.  He scrubbed his face with the back of his hand, hiccuping.  “I’ve been trying to make up for it, but I -- I can’t.  No matter what I do… it won’t ever be enough.  He’ll still be gone.”

“I know,” said Hunter, and Crosshair managed to look at him, realizing that Hunter had tears in his eyes too.  “You think you’re the only one who blames himself?  Join the club.  But you can’t dwell on that.”

“But you were with him.  You never left him.  It’s not the same.”

Hunter met his eyes, then nodded.  “Maybe it’s not.  But he wouldn’t want you to blame yourself. He’d have been proud of you, you know.”

Crosshair let out a strangled noise halfway between a laugh and a sob.  “Tech? Proud of me?  He must have hated me for everything I did.  I turned my back on him.  On all of you!  And for what?”  He slumped.  “I deserve what I got.  That’s why the hand will never work for me.”

“Stop it,” Hunter growled, shaking him by the shoulder.  Crosshair froze again.  “Don’t you dare say he hated you.  Tech’s the one who found you were a prisoner.  He’s the one who got your message.  And instead of running from the Empire, he’s the one who pushed to save you because you were still our brother.  I’m ashamed to say he had to convince me.  I’d… given up.  But Tech didn’t.  He was better than that.”

Hunter’s words didn’t make sense.  Tech had to have hated him.  To have blamed him.  “You had the right idea,” he muttered.

“No,” Hunter said.  He let go of Crosshair and leaned back against the house, his shoulder brushing against Crosshair’s.  “I didn’t.  I missed you, for some reason --”  He cracked a loose, awkward smile, and Crosshair chuckled, ducking his head.  “But I just pretended nothing happened. Like you’d never been one of us.”

“Reasonable of you.”

 “No, it wasn’t. Tech still talked about you. He missed you,” said Hunter.

Crosshair squeezed his eyes shut, feeling fresh tears leak down his cheeks.  He let out a shivery breath.  “If he did, then that makes it worse.  That he… died… before I could -- before I could --”  His words failed again, and he shook his head.  Before I could apologize.

“I know,” Hunter said softly.  

Crosshair nodded, swallowing.  Somehow having Hunter acknowledge his darkest thoughts softened them.  “I wish I could tell him.”

“I think he knew,” Hunter said, gazing out at the darkened sea in the distance.  “But you can’t ask him, and maybe that’ll never go away.  Not really.  It’s unfair.  And it hurts, it fucking hurts.”

“It does,” he whispered.

There was a faint noise; the sound of the front door opening, footsteps.  Batcher rounded the corner of the house first, running to both of them, licking Crosshair’s face, then Hunter’s.  She parked herself at Crosshair’s feet, her bulk crushing his toes.  

“Go on,” he said with a faint smile, patting her.  He knew she was just trying to help, but he also knew his feet weren’t exactly a comfortable pillow.  She looked at him for reassurance, and when he nodded, she reluctantly got to her feet to go explore the patio, looking back at him after every sniff.  Eventually she settled into a scrape of sandy soil and made herself comfortable, but situated herself so she could still keep an eye on him.

“Batcher, come on, leave them alone,” Omega called, her voice strained.  She came around the corner, Wrecker and Echo behind her.  She looked at them hopefully.  Probably relieved he hadn’t socked Hunter in the face. “Crosshair… how are you feeling?”

“We can leave ya alone, if you want,” Wrecker said.

Crosshair sighed, leaning back against the wall of the house, staring up at the cloudy night sky.  “Stay, if you want.  It’s fine.  I’ve already made an ass of myself tonight.  Can’t get much worse.”

“No more of an ass than normal,” said Echo warmly.  Crosshair snickered through the clotted mucus and tears in the back of his throat.

The others joined them, sitting down on the patio, just quietly being with them.  Omega sat down on Crosshair’s other side, weaving her arm around his.  For a moment, nobody spoke.  Then Crosshair said haltingly, “Sorry.”

“You’d better be,” said Echo.  Crosshair opened one eye, looking at him skeptically.  “If you were trying to knock me down, that was pathetic.”  Crosshair chuckled again.  How Echo put up with him, he’d never know.

“Is there anything we can do, Crosshair?” Omega asked gently. She patted his knee with her free hand, and he smiled apologetically at her.  

“No idea,” he said honestly.  “Clearly, I’m not the best one to ask.”

Wrecker propped up his chin on his hands, wearing a sad smile.  “It ain’t just your hand, is it?  And it ain’t just tonight.”

”No.  It’s… everything.  My hand.  Tantiss.  My… mistakes.  And… Tech.”  He closed his eyes.  “Especially Tech.”  There was a faint, guilty sense of relief, finally saying it aloud.

“Oh, Crosshair,” said Omega, leaning against him.  He relaxed slightly, her small hands grounding him.  “Why didn’t you talk to us?  You know we all miss him too.  All the time.”

”How do you talk about him?  Without —“ He put his hand over his face, squeezing his eyes closed.  “How?”

”It gets easier,” Wrecker said.  “But it’s scary at first.  Not gonna pretend different.  But… sometimes it’s nice to talk about him.  He’s our brother, y’know?  Always will be.”

“Tech isn’t the first brother I’ve lost,” offered Echo. “Fives and I… we were as close as we could be.  He thought he saw me die, and he never knew I was still out there.  Rex told me how we lost him, and… it’s hard.  I won’t say it’s not.”

Wrecker reached out, patting Echo on the shoulder.

Echo smiled at him. “But I started to realize, their deaths aren’t who they are.  I won’t let that be what defines them.  Fives was one of the finest ARC troopers there ever was, and that’s how I’ll remember him.  Same goes for Tech.  Tech was a genius.  He was selfless. And he flew like a damn maniac.”  He grinned fondly.  “That’s how I think of the brothers I’ve lost.  Who they were, and what of them I carry with me.”

“I like that,” Omega said softly.  She thought for a moment.  “Once Tech told me that he processed the world differently, but that it didn’t mean he didn’t care. I used to think nothing ever bothered him, that he just didn’t care about things like I did.  But he cared about things like he did. And he cared about you, Crosshair.  He told me he respected that you’d chosen a different path.  I never thought about it like that.  But Tech was always thinking.  I loved that about him.”

Crosshair tried to picture Tech saying those things.  He couldn’t quite imagine it.  But there was something warm stirring within him at the idea, at Omega’s words.  He turned to her and nodded with a lump in his throat.

“Didja know he was a racer?” Wrecker asked.  “One of the best the Outer Rim’s ever seen?”

“What’s this?” Hunter asked, giving Wrecker a suspicious look.

Omega wore a secretive, gleeful smile.  “We might have kept it a secret because we knew you’d get mad.”

“What do you mean?” Hunter asked warningly.

“Cid needed backup and took us to a riot race,” Omega said, shrugging innocently.  “Her racer broke down and, well, Tech said he’d do it.”

“I thought humans didn’t riot race,” Crosshair said.

“He was crazy!” Wrecker roared, laughing full-throatedly.  “Humans don’t do it. But he jettisoned his weapons!  Took the abandoned racing tunnel!  Led the other drivers into a trap!  He was cutthroat.”

“And then when he won, the whole stadium went nuts!” Omega said.  She pulled her hands away from Crosshair, shaking her fists in the air.  “‘Tech, Tech, Tech…’”  She laughed, sinking back to her sitting position, shaking her head.  “We, um, all made a pact not to tell you and Echo.”

“It wasn’t exactly laying low,” Wrecker admitted, looking sheepish.

Hunter sighed.  “Probably for the best you didn’t tell me then.”  He cracked a grin.  “Only Tech would’ve been that crazy.”

“Tech wasn’t one for laying low in general,” Echo mused.  “You know he fought on a broken leg on Serenno?”

“That sounds like him,” Crosshair conceded.  He hadn’t been the only one of the group with a habit of telling them he was fine when he absolutely wasn’t.

“By the time we got to him for a pickup, he’d passed out, but not before taking out multiple stormtroopers. That was a nasty break.  I was mad at you for not keeping him off it,” he said, shaking his head at Echo.  “I knew Tech wouldn’t have any sense when it came to taking it easy, but I thought you at least would be responsible.”

“Tech was a force unto himself, and you know it,” Echo said defensively.  Hunter smirked.

Crosshair looked back and forth between them.  Something in his chest was loosening, breaking up, easing the awful ache he’d been carrying.  He took a deep breath, and his lungs seemed to fully expand for the first time in months, maybe years.

“Did I ever tell you about the time we accidentally got obliterated?” Crosshair asked.

The others stared at him in surprise, then leaned in to hear his tale.  He turned to Omega.  “Don’t get any ideas.  Like I said, this was accidental.”  He smiled slightly.  “Remember that mission on Hassaria?”

“I remember you and Tech got separated from us,” Wrecker said.  “Had to pick you up the next day, and you both looked like crap.  Sweaty… puking your guts out… Tech said you guys got poisoned by some local bug or something --”

“Actually, a local Republic sympathizer took us in after we wiped out the clankers,” Crosshair said.  “They offered us dinner and something to drink, and we didn’t realize that whatever it was, it was strong. Not until it was too late.”

He lowered his head, trying not to laugh.  “The Hassarian started trying to teach us a local fighting song.  We, uh, might have joined in.” Joined in was an understated way to describe Tech bellowing the words out in a fine tenor, Crosshair singing the women’s parts in a wailing falsetto, and the Hassarian declaring them their new best friends forever.  “We might’ve also started singing every dirty song Wrecker ever taught us.”  He reached down, taking a toothpick from his belt.  “Not that you heard it from me.”

Omega stared at him, open-mouthed, eyes wide.  “Crosshair!”

Hunter laughed, shaking his head.  “Actually, when we rendezvoused with you I could smell the alcohol from twenty paces.  But I thought it was funnier if I didn’t let on and made you nurse your hangovers in secret, so…”

“You knew?” Wrecker yelped.  “Oh come on, I woulda loved to make fun of ‘em!”

Omega giggled, nudging Crosshair in the side.  “I’ve never heard any of you sing.  Maybe we should start a band.  Lyana’s been getting me into Trandoshan funk, maybe that’s your true calling…”

Hunter held out a hand.  “We might want to take this indoors,” he said, glancing up at the sky.  “Just a hunch, but --”

A bolt of lightning flashed distant across the horizon, followed by a clap of thunder and the first few drops of rain.  Batcher let out a howl from where she’d been dozing in the sand, and scampered to the door.  Hunter got to his feet, offering Crosshair a hand up.  Crosshair clasped it with his left hand, allowing his brother to lift him to his feet.

For a moment, they looked at each other.

Crosshair saw Hunter.  Really saw him: the weight of all that had happened since Kaller was etched in the lines on his face, the bags beneath his eyes.  The years had been hard on him, too.  He knew his brother could have turned away from him, and had, many times.  

But he was here now, his strong hand gripping Crosshair’s, his support real and true.  He was loyal.  And that meant everything.

Crosshair nodded at him, and Hunter nodded back, and they went inside with the others to get out of the evening rain.

[l-e-e-woso]

Caught Red Handed PT2 - Alexia Putellas

The link for: Part 1

This is set in like 2025 and PT1 is set in the last couple months of 2024.

Italics = Spanish

____________________________

It had been about 8 months since you had moved to Manchester United from Barcelona because  Alexia had cheated on you with Jenni who she promised that she was over but apparently she wasn’t.

After about a month of moving you eventually deleted all of your social media because every post you would see was about Alexia and Jenni. The posts would also all have hate comments mostly directed towards you saying some disrespectful shit like it was your fault that they broke up to begin with, saying that you had cheated on Alexia and just the usual comments.

It was really bad for you for the first few months but the Man United players had helped you out a lot with just including you in everything, being there when you needed a shoulder to cry on and just being able to talk to them no matter what.

A lot of your old Barca teammates had reached out to you but whenever they asked about you and Alexia, you would just leave them on read and just wait for them to talk about something else. Which made you feel like a dickhead but you just couldn’t bring yourself to talk about the situation.

You had grown really close with Mary Earps since joining Man United which surprised a lot of people cause Mary isn’t the calmest person and people thought that your personalities may clash but if anything you had somehow made Mary mellow out a bit.

Currently the whole team was on the team bus heading back to the hotel after a defeat. You were cuddling up to Mary who was fast asleep…well until your phone rang rather loudly making a lot of the girls groan in annoyance. “Turn it off…” Mary somehow managed to say in between yawns as she shoves you with her hand.

“Sorry…” You say just loud enough for all your teammates to hear and went to turn off your phone but just as you went to you saw who was calling. 

It was Alexia…you sighed before answering the call and you were met by loud sobbing. “Alexia? What’s wrong?” You say quite concerned as it was usually a very rare occasion when Alexia cried because she liked keeping it bottled up inside. 

“I-i…I don't know what to do. I’ve torn my ACL again except it's worse than last time, they don’t think it's possible that I will be able to play again. I didn’t know who else to talk to. Nobody understands like you do.” Alexia rants down the phone as you lean back in your seat in complete shock that this had happened to her again. You knew what she went through last time but this felt different like she wasn’t going to try, like she had given up already.

“Ale…you’ve got to try. You're too good of a person and player to give up this easily. You got this!” You say trying your best to put other emotions aside to attempt to cheer Alexia up enough to dig her out of this rough patch. 

“I have! I’ve been doing recovery for the past couple months, Jona just put out that I’m taking some personal time. I think it’s time. I’m getting older now, my body isn’t doing what I want it to do anymore. I’m going to retire.” Alexia says which makes you get goosebumps immediately and cover your mouth in shock causing you fellow teammates to look at you weirdly. 

“A-are you sure? It’s a huge decision Alexia!” You almost shout down the phone completely forgetting the anger you had for her, you stand up and start pacing in the bus. “Si…I’m sure. I just…needed to talk to you first.” Alexia says as she wipes her own tears off her face as she smiles at your concern for her. 

“Ale, I’ll phone you when I get home okay? Bye!” You say quickly before hanging up and staring at the phone in your hand with complete shock. Mary throws her water bottle at you which makes you glare at her. 

“What was all that about?” Mary asks, chuckling at your facial expressions and the fact she had no idea what you were saying when talking on the phone. “It was Alexia. She tore her ACL again but got told she won’t be able to play again so she’s retiring.” You say not really knowing what to do with yourself and a lot of your teammates gasp in surprise. 

Alexia had just won her third Ballon D’or this year and everyone thought she had quite a few more years left. I mean jesus she is Alexia Putellas, La Reina of Barca. 

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You had gotten home a few hours ago and you were trying to think about if you should forgive Alexia or not but you just couldn’t. It was more that you didn’t really trust her anymore rather than trying to forgive her. It was like she could read your mind because a second later Alexia’s name popped up on your phone. 

“Let me in.” Alexia said as she facetimed you as she stood outside your front door which made you confused but you ran to open it anyway. 

“What are you doing here?” You say slightly angry that she thought she could just turn up to your house out of the blue. 

“I have an interview in Manchester and thought I should come see you in person. I think I owe you some sort of explanation.” Alexia said nervously as she saw your very angry looking facial expressions and shifted from one foot to another waiting for you to let her in, to get out of the freezing British weather. 

You step aside to let Alexia in before closing your door and walking into your living room to sit down so the both of you could talk. “I forgive you…but I don’t trust you. We will not be a thing ever again. I won’t let my heart get broken by you again. We can be friends and that is it.” You say as Alexia sits down beside you on the sofa and then takes a sip of your energy drink which was on the coffee table. 

“I understand. What I did was stupid and it shouldn’t have happened but it did. I broke everything off with Jenni. I regret what I did but unfortunately I cannot take it back, I would if I could. Thank you for forgiving me. I know I definitely do not deserve it but I appreciate it.” Alexia says as she shakily wipes away a few tears that streamed down her face as she caught a glimpse of your face while her head was buried in her hands.

“What are you planning on doing now that you're…retiring?” You ask curiously as you could not picture Alexia just lounging around doing absolutely nothing at all. 

“I’ve been offered a few Head Coach positions for when I retire. It’s between Spain and Barca. I’ve been leaning more towards Spain? Cause Jorge needs to go and the girls deserve to be able to play for their country without getting treated like shit.” Alexia rants as you look at her with admiration for the fact she was still thinking about others even when going into retirement. 

“Well as one of those girls, I'd love to play for Spain if you were our Head Coach. I think all of the girls would agree with me on that.” You said excited that you may play under Alexia for your home country.

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It was a month later and you had been called up for camp for Spain by none other than Alexia. To say you were excited was an understatement, you and Ona had been talking about camp for the past week which was very annoying for your Man Utd teammates but they were happy for the both of you at the sametime.

You walked into the training ground you were using and were greeted by Alexia. “Good to see you Coach Putellas!”

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