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radiant-reid · 2 years

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Enduring

Summary: Spencer's wife gives birth almost as soon as he's back after getting shot in Texas, and he's very grateful.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader ( fluff mostly)

Content Warning: pregnancy, labor but it's not descriptive,

Word Count: 2.7k

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As soon as Spencer was shot in Texas, Hotch made a rule: no one can tell Y/n. Initially, JJ disagreed vocally. She knew Y/n would call when she woke up in DC, and as much as the thought terrified her, those calls could all go unanswered if he didn't make it.

They both had the mutual, painful experience of having someone they loved in a life-threatening situation and could agree that knowing and not being able to do something was worse than not knowing.

JJ couldn't imagine not being able to be apart of the effort to find Will when he had been shot in the bank, use her profiling skills and then physical combat skill to make sure her family was safe. Hotch also had the experience of a wife on bed rest who struggled to stay resting even when he was safe.

One thing they could all agree on was that Y/n would come to Briscoe county if she knew Spencer was in surgery. Even if Matt Cruz and Penelope had to carry her off the jet because she can't fly, she would drive the twenty-four straight hours to see him.

So Alex and JJ end up in the ER, knees bouncing up and down with nervousness. "I should have been me," Alex confesses, staring down at her hands.

"It could have been any of us." JJ agrees, misreading Alex's blame on herself.

"He pushed me out of the way." She says guiltily. It was eating at her since she pressed so tightly on his wound that she thought it would cause a bruise, hoping to keep enough blood to keep him conscious. "JJ, what if he doesn't make it?"

JJ rests her hand on Alex's thigh. "He'll be okay." She assures her, saying it for herself just as much as she's saying it for Alex. "They're about to have a baby. He'll be fighting for that."

Alex doesn't voice her worries about having to call Y/n and tell her that her husband is dead. Knowing that phone call is coming is probably in the back of Y/n's mind like it is hers, both having husbands with dangerous jobs. Even if it's anticipated, her life will never be the same, and Alex's guilt will never go away.

"You know he told me he doesn't think he's going to be a good enough dad?" Alex recalls their conversation a month prior.

JJ scoffs, shaking her head. "He couldn't be more wrong about that."

"Yeah, that's what I told him." She says. "Have you seen the ultrasound picture in his wallet?"

"Oh, I'm pretty sure he shows everyone that." JJ jokes, both of them chuckling. "And he kisses it every night."

Talking about him being okay eases the tension hospital waiting rooms bring. "He's not just going to be a good dad, he's going to be a great one." She settles.

The waiting seems to blur together as it so often does in situations with very little idleness, and it doesn't feel like a lot of time has passed before his name is called, and Alex is standing to hear his fate.

It's good news, exactly the news she and everyone else was hoping for. She's never felt more relief in her life than when she calls JJ, and says it aloud.

Alex and Penelope occupy his hospital room while he's still out from the anesthetic. With herself from Quantico, Penelope brought the most recent ultrasound from his desk and some little figurines, setting them up in front of him.

"Do you think it's a girl or a boy?" Alex asks, sitting in a chair across from Penelope. "The baby?" Now that neither of them feels like their worry is sucking the air out of them, it's more comfortable to talk about him.

Spencer and Y/n had chosen not to find out, figuring it was one of the few good surprises in life, and they didn't need anything different depending on the sex of the baby.

"Girl," Penelope answers before justifying. "But maybe that's just what I want. We've got Henry and Jack, so we need a little girl."

"That's what Spencer thinks, too," Alex remembers. It had taken a little while to get him to confess to it after all of his insisting that he just wanted a healthy baby

Penelope doesn't get the chance to ask Alex what she thinks before someone else is speaking. "What do I think?"

Their eyes quickly snap to Spencer, and another wave of relief rushes over both of them, overjoyed that he hadn't suffered from any brain damage.

"Hey, you," Alex says softly. "How are you feeling?"

"Alive." He replies, mostly feeling so energized because of the intense throbbing in his neck.

"That, we are very grateful for," Penelope says, squeezing his hand.

He's still groggy, adjusting to the light in the room. "Y/n's not here, is she?" He asks, but it's not disappointment in his tone, it's worry.

"No," Alex assures him. "She doesn't know."

"Good." Spencer agrees with Hotch's reasoning unknowingly. "She has to be on bed rest, and she has to keep her cortisol low."

Worrying about her being okay is making his heart rate jump up, and the girls know they have to keep it down. "She's okay, I promise," Penelope assures him. "You need to rest and get better, so you're okay to fly home."

He nods, settling down a little more. "Alex, you should go back to help the team." He dismisses her when he hears her phone buzzing. "Thank you for being here."

She nods, squeezing his knee after she stands up. "Get some rest."

When she leaves, he turns back to Penelope. "Can I tell you something?"

She nods emphatically. "Always."

"We're having a boy." He informs her.

Her eyes light up as she smiles at him. "Spencer, that's amazing. Did you find out?"

He shakes his head. "No, I just know." Usually, his near-death dreams are memories of his childhood, but in this one, he was standing over a bassinet in their bedroom, looking at the most perfect little baby boy he'd ever seen. He had looked too much like Y/n for Spencer to be seeing a baby version of himself.

Penelope resists the urge to hug him, knowing he's far too injured, but she's in tears about it like he is. "I cannot wait to meet perfect baby Reid."

He nods in agreement. "Me, too. Let's hope she doesn't go into labor until I'm back." He chuckles about it, but there's evident concern that he won't make it back in time. If he wasn't in hospital, he could catch a commercial flight home if needed, but when he's also in the hospital, there's not going to be much he could do.

"You'll be back in time," Penelope assures him.

He holds onto that as things get more complicated with another person trying to kill him, and eventually, most of the force being in on the murders.

By the time the worst of it is over, it's dawn in DC, and Spencer calls when he knows she'll be awake. "Good morning." He says softly.

Y/n mutes the TV, although she wasn't really watching it. There's not much to do on bed rest while heavily pregnant. "Hey, busy last night?"

Spencer sighs, looking around the hospital room that Penelope had vacated to sign his release papers. "Something happened." He confesses.

She nervously bites her bottom lip, her heart already beating faster as she starts to stress. "Tell me quick, please."

Right, he should have known that didn't sound good. "I'm okay now, but I did get shot."

"Spencer Reid, you say that far too casually." She scolds. She knows that if she's hearing his voice, it can't be that bad. "Where?"

"My neck." He answers, figuring he'll leave the piece of information out about how close the bullet was to his carotid artery until he can monitor her blood pressure and pulse. "It's a tiny bandage as well."

Y/n knows he loves his job, and he wouldn't choose to do anything else in the world, but she does wish it was a little less dangerous. "Well, I hope you're coming home soon, so I can properly tell you off."

Spencer chuckles at the comment. "I'll be back by tonight. How are you? Staying in bed?"

"Yes." She says flatly, having been texted the question by him so many times. "I'm good, but I'll be better when you get home."

He feels the same way. "Just don't go into labor before then." He requests.

"I'm weeks away." She assures him, rubbing her hands over the bump. He feels differently, knows it deep down, but he's not going to worry her with his intuition.

"Okay, I should go, so I can sign my discharge papers." He decides, noticing Penelope at the door. "I love you."

"I love you, too." She replies. "Thanks for staying alive."

The jet doesn't leave Texas too late, but it'll be dark in DC by the time they get home. He's asleep almost as soon as he lays on the couch, a deep gut feeling telling him that he'll need it

Penelope keeps the secret about baby Reid to herself while Spencer sleeps, unsure of if he wants it known or not. When they were in the hospital, he looked so sure about it that she's sure of it now.

Before they can get in their cars and leave the airport, Spencer finds a moment alone with Hotch. "I need some time."

Hotch raises his eyebrows like he's asking if Spencer is serious. "I'm glad you're asking because it means I don't have to make it an order."

"Thank you," Spencer says, taking Hotch's offer of a handshake.

"Let us know when the baby comes, and we'd like photos, too," Hotch tells him

Spencer can't help but ask Alex about her slip-up in the car while she drives him home as the memories slowly come back to him. "Who's Ethan?"

"My son." She answers before going into the sad story about his death. Spencer's been around a lot of death, children's death as well, but it's terrifying when he's about to become a parent. "I think he would have been a lot like you." She confesses.

"Thank you." He says simply. For two people with a lot of words, it's enough.

Alex grabs his bag for him when they reach the Reids' apartment, and they walk slowly up the stairs. He knows something is bothering her, and he's guessed what. "Are you leaving?" He asks.

It catches her off guard like she forgot he's a profiler. "I am." She answers honestly.

It's easy for him to understand. At least as soon as he blacked out, he couldn't remember anything else. Alex had been the one trying to stop him from dying, and that responsibility, on top of how horrifying their job was, was enough.

"I'm happy for you," Spencer tells her before putting his key in the lock and opening the door.

Y/n practically jumps on him as soon as he's in the apartment, hugging him tightly but carefully. "Oh, my god. You're back, you're here, and you're okay." She exclaims. Seeing him mostly physically okay is better than hearing his voice on the phone.

"I am," Spencer assures her when he finally gets released from the hug. "You're meant to be in bed."

She hits him on the shoulder. "Don't start." She warns before she moves to hug Alex at the awkward angle she now has to hug people at thanks to massive baby Reid. "Thank you for bringing him home." She says appreciatively.

"Of course." Alex nods. She can't help smiling at how in love the two of them are, remembering almost two years ago when Spencer was worried about not being enough to be her husband. "I'll leave you two to it." She says, stepping backward to leave.

Spencer's not really a hugging type of person, but he jumps at the chance to hug her before she goes, thanking her again and then closing the door.

"We should go to bed." He tells Y/n, even though his hands on either side of her bump make it impossible for them to move.

"You scared the shit out of me, you know?" She tells him, frowning up at him.

He kisses her on the forehead softly before kissing her lips. "I know." He answers. "I was scared, too, before I blacked out. But I will always do everything in my power to come home to you." He assures her, each word with such emphasis and meaning. He looks down at her bump. "And you, sweet boy?"

"A boy?" She asks in surprise, his eyes focusing back on her. "Did you realize you're wrong and now you're jumping ship to the right side, Reid?"

He laughs with her. "Yes, I did change my mind, Reid." He retorts. "Now, did you eat?"

"I did. I cleaned the kitchen too. How many boxes of cereal do you really need?" Spencer's face is blank as he realizes what's happening, and she's concerned. "What's up?"

He knows it'll just stress her out to know how common a sign nesting is of labor, so he doesn't say anything. "Just counting how many boxes of cereal I have."

"Eleven." She answers for him. "Eight now, actually, because I was hungry."

He laughs softly before kissing her again. "Come on, let's go to bed." He guides her through the house with his hands on her hips, glancing around the apartment he was so fond of. The bassinet at the edge of the bed always makes him smile, knowing there's going to be a baby in there and soon if his intuition is right.

He tiptoes out of the bedroom once she's showering to put his laundry on, but he's interrupted before he can turn the machine on. It's his wife with a very uneasy look on her face, her skin paler than usual, like she's sick. "I think I'm in labor." She barely manages to get out, voice soft from her shock.

Spencer doesn't freeze or underperform. Silently, he thanks the universe once again, grateful he's alive and back in DC. He did expect it, but that only contributes slightly to his calm front. "Okay, just breathe for a second. I'll go get your bag, and we'll go to the hospital." He narrates to her, keeping his voice slow to calm her.

It's the second hospital he's been at in the last twenty-four hours, and he would much rather be the one in the hospital bed if it meant she wasn't in pain.

Even though he has barely slept in the last week, there's no way he would miss a moment. He's hyper-alert as he comforts her, refuses to take his hand off hers, and makes a few phone calls.

Some terribly long hours of labor later, they have a baby. It was excepted, obviously, something months in preparation, but it's still unreal.

He's loved the little baby for so long, and he didn't realize that love would amplify exponentially. "You look exactly like this when you sleep," Spencer tells her, looking into the clear bassinet and staring at a face that mirrored hers.

"Your nose, though." She tells him, glad about that fact.

"So perfect." He coos. His phone vibrates, but nothing can knock him out of the moment. "The team's here." He reports.

"Send them in." She directs him, knowing he's asking more than telling. "I just should have brought makeup."

He leans down to kiss her forehead. "You look gorgeous."

Hugs are shared when JJ, Will, Henry, Hotch, Jack, Penelope, Alex, Morgan, and Rossi walk in, smiles on all their faces. Spencer very gently picks up the baby, showing him to everyone. "This is Ethan."

He stays asleep as he gets past around to his aunts and uncles and shown to his cousins, who all awe at him. Spencer stands next to Alex while everyone else talks.

"He's perfect," Alex tells him, even though she knows he's thought it a million times.

"I hope you don't mind," Spencer says nervously. "His name, I mean."

She shakes her head. "It's perfect. Enduring."

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bullet-clubs-bitch · 6 months

Text

Falling In Love

Nick Jackson X Fem Reader

Summary: Y/n and Nick grew up together. They had been best friends since they were teenagers, trying to make it big in the world of wrestling. Deep down inside Y/n and Nick always had feelings for one another but never admitted it, afraid it would ruin what they had. They both ended up with other people but were never truly happy with their partners. What happens when fate brings them back together and both are single for the first time in a long time? What happens when after 17 years Nick realised he’s still in love with Y/n?

Mentions: of death (reader is a widow), injures,

Main Masterlist (Word count: 2k)

I sat in the private Elite locker room crying into the chest of one my best friends in the whole world, Nick Jackson. We met when I was 16 and he was 17, starting our wrestling journey together, wrestling in the backyard promotion his older brother Matt started. I loved Nick, we spent our whole careers together. He has been there for me through EVERYTHING and I mean EVERYTHING. The past few months have been hectic. The Elite which consisted of myself, Matt, Nick and Kenny had recently made our triumphant return after the whole suspension thing and ever since my life has been a living hell.

I had made my return a few weeks earlier than the boys at AEW’s first Canadian show. I begged Tony Khan to let me do anything on the show. I had been working for years to bring the show to Canada, nonetheless my hometown of Toronto. After countless meetings and paperwork, I somehow managed to show up in Toronto. I still get goosebumps thinking about the Pop I got from the audience. I made an open challenge to fight anyone and Tay Conti answered it. During my match, I somehow managed to pull the muscles in my abdomen. Unfortunately for me, Aubrey Edwards had no choice but to call the match due to my injury. I didn’t want the match to end but I could not stand, and therefore it was out of my hands to make the call.

That was the most embarrassing moment of my life. I’ve wrestled matches with broken bones and had death matches, but I injured myself by botching a tiger roll. I was making my return, trying to put what happened behind me but of course, it’s never that easy. It was even worse when I started crying as I was practically carried out by staff. Out of the 16 years I’ve been wrestling I had only gotten a match stopped two other times. Both of which I was knocked out and had to be carried out on a stretcher because I almost died.

But that was in October, It’s now May and once again I am injured. Nick just held me in his arms and said nothing, knowing I just needed to get this cry out.

“What’s wrong with me Nick,” I said sobbing uncontrollably

“Y/N, there is nothing wrong with you” He replied in a soothing tone

“Yes, there is, how come out of all of my years wrestling I barely ever get injured but ever since I came back all I am is hurt.”

He said nothing

“October, I started crying in the ring which I have never done before and almost gave myself a hernia, February I almost shattered my ankle and I still have this nasty ass bone bruise. Now, It's May and the Doctor told me if my shoulder doesn’t get better soon I might have to get surgery. I can’t be out for months with a shoulder injury”

Nick knew everything I said was true. These past few months have been a rollercoaster of emotions for everyone. The boys regained their Trios championships then lost it and I won the Ring Of Honour women's championship the past December at final battle. Not to mention the unexpected loss of one of our great friends and my baby daddy James. The last thing is the main problem. My mind was constantly thinking of James and that I am a fresh single mother with an 11-month-old was enough to throw me off my game and cause my injuries.

“Y/N..” Nick says my name almost in a whisper “Whatever happens, I just want you to know that I am always going to be here for you. No matter what happens, ok. I love you, always.” He then placed a delicate kiss on my forehead and rubbed my back, something that never failed to help me calm down.

Just then Matt and Kenny walked in. The four of us were family, being there for the highest of highs and the lowest of lows. Kenny was holding my daughter, Elizabeth or as I liked to call her Lizzy. It was the name James picked out, she looked exactly like him. He handed her to me and I held her close to my chest. It pained me knowing she would never get to know her father. She was only 5 months old when he died, my only child, our little miracle, and I had no idea how I was going to do this on my own. Luckily I have some great people to help me get through it.

That night after dynamite I went back to my hotel room, exhausted. Lizzy was upset. There were too many people, it was loud, and not to mention all of the fellow wrestlers wanted to hold her. My little angel was just like her father, not a people person. That meant the evening consisted of me holding her tight as she was wrapped around my chest. Liz wouldn't let Britt or even Dana hold her without crying again so that meant I couldn't make it ringside for the boy’s match. Once I returned to the room and somehow managed to put Lizzy down for bed before having a shower and getting ready for bed. I stood in the mirror looking at my right shoulder, although I was able to move it more (thanks to some crazy rehab) the nasty bruising remained. The “Cody Boob” as I liked to call it as it looked similar to Cody’s torn pectoral. Just as I was lost in my thoughts I heard a faint knock on my hotel room door. I was surprised when I saw Nick standing there.

“Hey” Nick whispered

“Hi” I replied, tiredly

“I just wanted to check on you, see how you are doing. I heard about the little situation with Liz”

“Oh, that. She’s fine. Too many people I guess….Do you wanna come in?”

As I invited Nick inside my hotel room I noticed something different about him. I wasn’t too sure what it was. He was freshly showered, and I could smell the evergreen scent of his body wash on his skin. He wore black sweats, a black T-shirt along with a pair of Jordans. All normal things, yet something was different. Was it the way his icy blue eyes looked at me? Was it the way he leaned on the doorframe? A million different things went through my mind as I finished in the washroom before returning to him. He sat on the bed, flipping through the channels as I joined him, snuggling close to his chest. I must have fallen asleep at some point because when I woke up in the morning he was gone.

Nick’s POV:

As I sat in Matt’s and I’s shared hotel room all I could think about was Y/N. I know how hard things have been for her recently and I was genuinely worried for her.

“And then I was thinking we could do…, are you even listening to me, Nick?” Matt said in annoyance. I didn’t even notice I drowned him out

“Yeah, I think that’s a great idea man” I replied, not even knowing what he had said.

“What’s wrong, is something bothering you?” he asked

“I’m fine Matt, just worried about Y/N,” I told him truthfully

“I think you worry about her too much. If I am being completely honest with you, I have no idea how you two never ended up together. You two wo-” “I’m getting a divorce” I cut Matt off. I could see his face drop at my words.

“What? What do you mean you are getting a divorce?” Matt said confusion and fear all over his face. “A few months ago, I filed for a divorce Matt, I am getting a divorce” I admitted ashamed of myself. “Why?” The tone in Matt’s voice was soft. He no longer looked shocked, he looked almost pained.

“To be honest with you I have no idea”. My marriage had always been rocky from the beginning, that was no secret. The long-running joke on BTE was that one day I would end up leaving my wife for Y/N. Everyone and their mother wanted Y/n and I to get together, they swore at some point we must have slept together but it never happened.

“Do you love her?” Matt asked the one question I had been dreading for years

“Who?” I played dumb

“Y/N, do you still love her?” I may or may not have told Matt that I was in love with Y/N after I was high on anesthetic after surgery a few years back and he’s never let it go.

“I need to get some air” I left before Matt could stop me.

My brain was going a million miles an hour, I just needed some time to think. I didn’t even notice that I ended up at Y/N’s room. I wanted to go back, but it was too late. I knocked quietly on the door. Hoping not to wake the baby up. When Y/N opened the door I felt some relief. Her hair was wet and she was wearing a robe. She must have just come out of the shower. My brain imagined myself in there with her. I mentally cursed at myself for thinking that, she was my best friend. She invited me inside and I sat on the bed, unsure what to do. ‘Why am I so nervous?’ I thought to myself. I decided to find something on the TV while I waited for her to return. Once she returned she rested her head on my chest. We were always very affectionate towards each other (sometimes a little too affectionate) so this wasn’t something out of the ordinary. So why did I feel so nervous?

We didn’t say anything, we just lay in silence. It was calming, I felt relaxed. I was going to move to be closer to her when I noticed she was asleep. Y/N looked so peaceful, so beautiful. Matt’s words replayed in my mind. “Do you still love her?” I always loved Y/N, but did I LOVE LOVE her? For the first time in a long time, the both of us were single. Y/N was the first person to know about my divorce, and her reaction was similar to Matt’s. I wanted to protect her, help her raise her daughter, I wanted her, I needed her, I wanted to be with her forever, I loved her and I hate myself for not doing anything about it. For the past 17 years she has been in my life and for the past 17 years I have been in love with her. Instead, I ignored my feelings and got married to someone else to ignore my true feelings. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest, my mind going a million miles an hour. I was lost in my own thoughts, a text from Matt broke my trance.

“Where are you?” he asked. Shit, how long had I been gone? I looked at the clock and saw it was almost two in the morning. I wanted to stay with Y/N but Matt wouldn't stop texting me. So I had no choice but to leave.

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thebreakfastgenie · 1 year

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The Burma Shave Signs

In order to understand the significance of the Burma Shave signs, we need to understand Hawkeye's emotional state when he returns to the 4077th. The jeep driver is chatty, and Hawkeye basically ignores him. He tells Sidney he's uneasy about going back, which makes perfect sense; who would want to go back to a MASH unit close to the front? Besides, we know he's anxious about performing surgery again. But Hawkeye has another reason, too.

He's anxious about not being accepted back by his friends and colleagues. This, too, is a perfectly reasonable fear; the contact he's had with them since being hospitalized has been awkward and uncomfortable at best. Potter, Mulcahy, Margaret, and BJ were all more or less disastrous on the phone, and even Klinger, who handled it better than the rest, didn't get a joyful reaction out of Hawkeye. Then BJ visited him in person, and that went even worse. Hawkeye is very understandably afraid that everyone is going to look at him differently, a fear that's proven largely correct. It's uncomfortable knowing the people you're close to have seen you at your worst, and that happened to him very recently. His breakdown and involuntary hospitalization were very public.

There is also the nature of his breakdown to consider. He made a scene in O.R. and very nearly harmed a patient, then drove a vehicle through a building. People at the 4077th who witnessed that might be afraid of him now. They might be angry with him, too, because he destroyed the Officers' Club, which was one of the few places they had to socialize and relax.

So all of this is going through Hawkeye's mind while this enlisted man who doesn't particularly seem to care is trying to make small talk. And then he sees the message:

HAWK WAS GONE NOW HE'S HERE DANCE 'TIL DAWN AND GIVE A CHEER Burma Shave

The driver reads them and clearly thinks they're nice. And Hawkeye, Hawkeye smiles.

This is one of the first times we see him smile in this entire episode, apart from the flashbacks. He smiles when he thinks he's going home, and then here. This one is different. It's soft and understated--not a manic grin--and very genuine.

He smiles because for all his fear and worry and anxiety about going back, he's just been given a welcome back. Not just any welcome, either, it's personalized. It rhymes. It's a pop culture reference. It's joyful. It's thoroughly Hawkeye. I think the red paint is most likely a reference to the color scheme on classic Burma Shave signs, but if you want to add an extra layer, you can consider it a callback to the red party. It's a nice touch, too, that there is no reference to them later, so we never find out who was responsible for them. It emphasizes, as the goodbye dinner scene does, that the entire camp is close, not just the characters we usually focus on.

The message here is We're glad you're back. We missed you. We love you. There is no promise it won't be awkward, but there is a clear, unwavering acceptance, which is exactly what Hawkeye needs.

And then this happens:

Of course Hawkeye can't have nice things, but it's more than that. As I've just established, the signs are a symbol of the love Hawkeye's friends have for him. We know what the bus symbolizes. It's all throughout the first hour. "A bus, huh?" "Again with the bus? Why don't you subscribe to Arizona Highways and leave me alone?"

The bus is what happened. The bus is the trauma. The bus is the horrors of war. The bus is why Hawkeye had an ugly public breakdown and was committed to a hospital in the first place. The bus comes up from behind.

In this scene, his friends' love for him is flattened by his trauma, which has followed him all the way back to the 4077th.

I've never quite been able to figure out if it is indeed the same bus that Hawkeye finally boards after that shot where he hesitates and looks about a million years old, but this bus was approaching the 4077th for triage.

Potter says "Why don't you start on the bus?" the same thing Sidney asked him to do. He can't escape the bus. It follows him; he gets back on it. Because the war still isn't over.

The message on the Burma Shave signs still matters. He still got to read it. He still knows how they feel. And we him socialize among them and be loved and accepted, even as we also see him hanging back. The bus doesn't permanently destroy all hope, it just shocks him by barging in on a happier moment. We see throughout the second hour that though he's been released from the hospital, Hawkeye is still recovering, and the bus is a reminder of that. It's just an absolute gut punch of a moment to see it destroy those welcome signs.

Maybe it's not just about Hawkeye, either. If the bus is the war, maybe it's a reminder that any moment of joy or niceness will be interrupted by the war reasserting its iron grip on everyone's attention. Like all the way back in Bulletin Board, or the end of Movie Tonight, or Dear Sis. You can have nice things in a war, but only for a moment. But unlike in those other episodes, by the end of this one the war is actually over.

#i need everyone to be as insane about these as i am #this is nothing i haven't said before but i made it nicer #mash #m*a*s*h #hawkeye pierce #mashposting #original mash content

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duchessofostergotlands · 6 months

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First of all I begin this by wishing the best to all those who have been affected in one way or another with this terrible disease such as cancer as well as any other disease of this nature.

One thing I have seen since the announcement came out yesterday is still people criticizing William as to why he was not there with Catherine at the time the announcement was made and it is maddening to see how some people are so inept.

In September of last year on a Wednesday a surgery my aunt had to remove two cysts that the doctor said would only take two hours, turned into a seven hour surgery and with practically half of my aunt's small intestine removed. I still remember when I woke up and my mom felt me up to tell me that my aunt, a lady who has always taken care of herself young (48 years old) had cancer and was in intensive care. The shock that felt like a bucket of cold water was something that to this day I cannot explain. The next day my grandfather was likewise diagnosed with protest cancer. The process of my aunt who was the one who was worse than my grandfather is one that has not even been seven months yet but these are things that we as a family have been a constant change. The food, now it is all gluten free until at least her intestine gets used to it and even then there is food that she may never be able to eat again; now she looks like a duck (her own words) since every time she eats she goes to the bathroom, sometimes without needing to eat just out of nowhere she can no longer regulate her urge to go to the bathroom, which her oncologist says is normal. Now she can't wear high heels either, a lady who, being a lawyer, is used to wear high heels all the time.

I say this because I think it is important for people to know that the cancer pathway, like many other life changing diseases, is not linear, sometimes you feel good, other times you get tired and all this despite the fact that my aunt is on preventive treatment. Not chemotherapy but some pills

I hope you and your family are doing ok. It sounds like a very challenging situation but you also seem to have a very close family relationship so hopefully you're all supporting each other :)

I mean, surely William could have been off screen? I haven't read anything about whether he was there one way or another, it's not relevant to me, but it's like they don't know the universe doesn't end at the edge of the screen lol. But anyway, bottom line is it's Kate's body. Not William's. I'm really tired of the constant infantilising that's been happening in recent weeks, on both sides of this conversation. I'll talk about some of this in the podcast in more depth but William is her husband and the father of her children, not her minder. I don't know why people insist on treating ill people - especially women - as if they're children who can't make up their own minds about what happens to them. Of course there's vulnerability that comes with it, people need extra support. But she's not a baby. If she'd needed or wanted William to sit on a bench next to her in total silence, I have no doubt he would have done it. She clearly didn't.

#ask #anon #Kate Middleton #british royal family #2024 #prince william

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theworldoffostering · 8 months

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The director of special education did not show up to our IEP this week. It made the meeting a whole lot less contentious. It didn’t hurt that they assigned a much more experienced teacher to DS and our advocate showed up and kept everyone in line. Should it take that much work/effort/stress? Absolutely not! I will never understand how anyone is getting services if we cannot with all of the privileges we have personally been afforded.

DH and I talked to Ms. 6 this week. It could be worse, but it’s not great. She bought herself a car or someone else did, but it seems no one cares if she has insurance (legally required). I told her to call and get some quotes. She has not.

She has a boyfriend she met online that no one has vetted. He’s older (no idea how much older) as he has his own place. He lives three hours away in a neighboring state, but Ms. 6 couldn’t remember which city he lives in. She goes to see him on the weekends despite the fact that no one has met him or vetted him. It’s killing me! She was very vague on the details regarding what he does for a living.

Her car seems some basic repairs. Her grandpa has been a semi truck driver for decades. Hasn’t helped her with the repairs. Boyfriend is maybe some kind of mechanic but is unable to help with repairs. Mom is driving Ms. 6’s uninsured car and teaching Ms. 6 how to do donuts in it.

Ms. 6 said she applied to a PA program. When I pointed out that the PA program she applied for is a masters program (aren’t they all?) that cost $109k for the 28 month program, she seemed shocked and unimpressed. I did do a conference call with her and the high school this week to try to sort out her graduation.

Ms. 6 had knee surgery last week. I offered to be available and make the three hour drive to take her. She said her mom was taking her. The night before surgery her mom said she had to work and couldn’t take her. Grandma said she couldn’t take her because she had already take a sick day that week. Mom’s BF drove her, but apparently doesn’t like hospitals so he didn’t sit in the room and wait for Ms. 6 to be taken back to surgery. Surgery was pushed back several hours. Now mom doesn’t want to take her to the post-op appointment because the dogs have a vet appointment.

Post surgery, Ms. 6 was prescribed narcotics. Mom is an addict. Is she currently using? I have no idea but she used for at least a decade and has a conviction for cooking meth with the intent to sell. Kids were removed for many reasons including heroin use. Ms. 6 said the “oxy” isn’t managing her pain so she asked the nurse for something else AND an oxy refill. The pharmacist wouldn’t give both to mom. Mom told Ms. 6 it’s because they don’t have the same last name. I pointed out that I also don’t share the same last name as anyone in our family, and we were also recently denied a narcotic at the pharmacy. It is clear that no one that she has contact with lives in their thinking brains—they are all convinced that they are victims of one system or another.

Ms. 6 also quit her job. She said it was because they were making her do too much work.

Ms. 6 really wants contact with the other kids, particularly NB at this point. We have withheld that so far but can’t really articulate why. I think because it doesn’t feel healthy or good, and things don’t necessarily feel stable with her between DH and myself and her. I’ve talked to her a handful of times in the past month which are the first times I’ve spoken to her since she left in August. Anyone have experience in this area? Is it wrong for us to feel it out as parents before we open that relationship back up to siblings? It’s not my intention to use them as pawns, but it probably feels that way to Ms. 6. The kids here have not asked to see her, and DS and DD are actively continuing to say that they don’t want to have contact.

I’m trying to be something for her but that all feels very temporary and complicated right now. I sent her a small care package today via mail and am going to offer up some services for her like connecting her with colleges, but am trying to hold tight to a lot of boundaries at this point.

#this was foster care #adoption #parenting is hard

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fuck-your-proana-blog · 1 month

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TW: Doing really bad right now-ALL BECAUSE OF ANOREXIA, MY EXERCISE ADDICTION, AND MOST RECENT SUICIDE ATTEMPT!

I'm in so much pain from both my older and newer diagnosed physical conditions I just want to throw in the towel. On top of the full-body pain conditions, I can't enjoy a meal without the torture of my throat trauma from being intubated making me feel like I'm choking and like stuff's constantly stuck in my throat ALL DAY after my first meal. I can't cook a meal or do any chores without my wrist feeling like the hole in my ligament that I needed surgery for (and never got, yet continued to lift weights with for years like an idiot) is brand new, so I need to ice my wrist and back for hours after I cook (even with my husband's help). Also the spinal pain is getting worse and more extensive every damn day; obviously worse when I'm cooking because I'm standing, measuring, grabbing ingredients, etc. Food used to be my favorite thing- sure I starved, but when I ate it was the highlight of my day.. but now there's no more joy from food due to my throat issues and the pain from preparing it. Nothing gives me joy but the quality time my husband and I spend together and my cat- but the good times with my husband are limited because I'm always so miserable and he's sick of doing all the chores, so we argue a lot now.. and my cat is not as cuddly as our other super senior cat that died last year (my cuddle buddy and constant companion😔).

I know I did this to myself, but I didn't mean to. I just focused on getting my "perfect body" to distract myself from my actual life.. I was trying to (for several years literally) run from my sexual trauma/C-PTSD that was very emotional-abuse heavy, with broken family shit, physical and emotional bullying, etc. because I only started facing the fact that this trauma existed in 2010, and with no other way to cope with my sexual revulsion due to the facing of my trauma, exercise helped me feel better and get out frustrations. I was already psychologically disabled, and being denigrated for that by everyone in my family, I felt like I had nothing else to offer the world than what others have often referred to as my "beauty." (Note: I do not now or ever have considered myself beautiful- only others have) Now my stupid, excruciating as well as dumb way to obtain more so-called (and mainstream) "beauty" through overexercising and starvation has made it so I haven't showered for two days despite my OCD SCREAMING at me that I'm not clean, I'm filthy, I'm disgusting, etc., (more trauma-reactions) but due to my many excruciating physical disabilities I can't even get out of my damn recliner to shower more than a few times a week, when I used to shower up to 3 times a day.. and forget restful sleep- I wake up every few hours to change my ice pack and readjust my 6 pillows to help cushion my broken apart bones, lack of cartilage, damaged nerves, osteoarthritis, etc.

It's not worth it. I wish what I tried worked.. my life is only worth living now because if it ended my loved ones would suffer. I am only alive so I don't hurt the people who love me.

YOU CAN AVOID THIS FATE- if you plan on having a long term restrictive ED, and think that it's some "perfect solution" to be skinny forever, you're wrong. So wrong- I spent 13 years wasting my life to get the "perfect body," I was used as thinspo on here, praised for my tiny body, called "body goals," everything the pro anas on here claim to want. But you can only live that life for so long.. with my routine, the length of that particular life was 13 years (and that was pushing it). Now I am suffering more and more each day, with no relief in sight.

I will continue to post these reality checks- sure they're good for my need to vent my frustrations, but if just one person reads this and thinks twice, it has served a purpose beyond my ability to complain into the void of Tumblr.

Get help. You are never "not sick enough"- if you abuse your body in any way with food, exercise, or medication you deserve help.

You do not want this life. I gained all the weight back due to being so unintentionally immobile due to the damage anorexia/overexercising caused; the osteopenia from it definitely helped progress the degeneration of my spine and other bones, as the weight gain was aided by the complete destruction of any metabolism I had.. so now all I have is the triggering memories on Facebook, old pictures shared by family- most of whom do not know how much it hurts to see my sick pictures.. they all knew what was happening, but I've only confessed it to a few- they all make sure to talk about it behind my back though!🤬

Save yourselves from this. Save yourselves from a life much worse in EVERY WAY than not being "the skinniest girl in every room." 🙄

If you have any recovery questions or need help trying to recover, please reach out to me on any of my blogs- you're not alone.❤️

#ana #mia #pro ana #pro mia #ed #ed not sheeren #anorexia #anorexia athletica #anorexia recovery #bulimia #bulimia recovery #eating disorder #ed recovery #used some dumb tags for reach.. but damn do i hate those “ana” tags #pro recovery #recovery

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simslegacy5083 · 2 months

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NSB (Straud Legacy) Gen 9

Today's (8/1/2024) Episode: Aging Up Is Hard To Do

After Noemi joined Luigi in adulthood, the pair struggled to settle into their new, older, stage of life.

Luigi had been busy after aging up, first grieving and then trying to make Noemi’s birthday perfect. When the vain sim finally checked his mirror, he was horrified by how OLD he looked. Wrinkles and bags under his eyes…!? The self-absorbed sim hated the marks time had left on his face.

It didn’t help his outlook that his eczema and anemia seemed to be getting worse, despite religiously sticking to his tried-and-true maintenance routines. He’d also begun to struggle with excessive thirst. None of it made it easy to meet his own high standards. Luigi was officially in a funk!

As for Noemi, she had finally set a date to start the job that Skye’s birth and her health issues had postponed, but it was messing with her head.

She worried that her social struggles would prevent her from making a good impression on her bosses and new peers. On top of that, her inability to exercise the way she wanted to since Skye’s birth due to her surgeries had left her carrying a lot more leftover baby weight than she liked.

The idea of facing her new co-workers and clients when she feeling far from her “best” kicked her anxiety into high gear.

When Luigi admitted his unhappiness with his new, older look and recent ill health it prompted his fiancée to admit to her own concerns.

Noemi suggested that, since Luigi was feeling under the weather, they start trying to tackle things with a visit to their doctors.

Hopefully, his primary care provider could help him figure out what to do to get his chronic conditions back under control and Dr. Valasquez could help her brainstorm ways to manage her anxiety.

Sadly, the outcome of Luigi’s healthcare appointment only worsened his outlook.

His symptoms and answers to questions about his general dietary habits quickly prompted the doctor to order a panel of bloodwork. This revealed that Luigi’s recent fatigue and dry skin weren’t the worsening of his long-standing medical issues, but a sign that he needed to overhaul his lifestyle once again to deal with a new chronic condition: diabetes.

To keep his blood sugar in a healthy range Luigi would now need to avoid many of his favorite breakfast foods and mixology recipes. He hung up the phone in shock, his natural cheerfulness unable to find any bright side to the grim news. Why did these things keep happening to him!?

Noemi didn’t fare much better. Her therapist wasn’t able to suggest anything she didn’t already know, leaving her no better off than before.

Grabbing a late dinner after putting Skye to bed the couple compared notes and tried to brainstorm. Luigi’s first idea came as he remembered how empowering it had felt for him and his cousins to curate their “new looks” after moving in together. Maybe, he told Noemi, they couldn’t change what was at the heart of their problems, but with a little “fashion magic” they could cover over them a bit. She agreed it was worth a try.

When he went on to bitterly joke: “At least my seldom sleepy trait keeps me mostly awake and alert. If only there was a satisfaction potion of chronic-illness-be-gone!” a lightbulb went off in Noemi’s brain. No satisfaction reward would help him, but there was definitely one for her weight concerns.

When Luigi saw the “Insta Lean” potion pop out of his fiancées inventory he placed a hand on her arm to stop her from chugging it down.

“What?” she asked him “It’s a perfectly safe one time reset. Now that I can exercise again, I’ll easily maintain a weight that makes me happy. Come to think of it, exercising more would be good for both of us. Didn’t the doctor say a regular fitness routine would help you manage your sugar levels?”

“Yes, he did” Luigi replied, “and that’s a great idea. If you’re spending points, do you have enough to pick up Seldom Sleepy too?” At her nod he smiled and continued. “Grab that, and we can burn the midnight oil together, going for late night jogs on the beach and early morning swims!”

Gesturing back at the potion his face got serious as he continued: “I just wanted you to know, before you drink that, that you are beautiful and loved just the way you are. If your new bosses or your bathroom mirror don’t appreciate you, I hope you realize how much I do.”

Noemi leaned across the table and kissed him softly. “I love you too. However much your love completes me though, I want to go into my new job feeling on top of the world. This expensive little cocktail will boost my confidence in the office Monday morning, when I’ll need all the help I can get!” With that, she tipped the glass back, letting the magical concoction slide down her throat with a cool tingle.

With their “fixer upper” plans in place the pair looked forward to a fashion makeover to highlight their new, more mature, and soon sleeker bodies!

View The Full Story of My Not So Berry Challenge Here

#sims 4 challenge #sims 4 #sims 4 legacy #sims4 #sims 4 nsb #sims 4 not so berry #sims4nsbstraud #sims 4 let's play #sims 4 lets play #sims 4 gameplay

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houseofbrat · 6 months

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Have you seen the House in Habit tea? Thoughts?

If this is true I get why they didn’t want to share more details but the problem is the really really bad communications team they have in place to manage it. KP has 60 staff. With the usual light workloads, I’ve always wondered what they do but especially now, how they can be paid to let things get so bad. And the “Cathy is a victim” narrative they’re trying won’t help.

This is the "source's" statement to Jessica Reed Kraus (JRK) of House In Habit substack:

“So, I've been debating for a long time now if I should tell you this as I feel she should be entitled to her privacy, but the rumors are now getting ridiculous and are far worse than the reality. I know what is wrong with Kate. I was told by a direct source (———Redacted———) after she was treated just after the initial statement came out. Catherine did not have abdominal surgery. It was surgery on her bowel, and she has been fitted with a temporary stoma bag whilst the bowel recovers from the surgery. Around 12 weeks later, it should be completely healed so the bowel can be reattached and the stoma bag removed. Any talk of the bowel was obviously just too much for the palace, and they did not want to tarnish the image of their perfect princess. What they have done in the meantime though is infinitely worse for the reputation of the Prince and Princess and house of Windsor in general. I can't say I understand the logic behind their recent choices. I also can't help but wonder what the Queen would have made of this situation."

Apparently this "source" does not understand that any surgery on the abdomen--which is where the large intestine/colon/bowel is located--is "abdominal surgery." I suppose this "source" only seems to think that "abdominal surgery" is surgery to give your abs a six pack? Or liposuction?

Everything that was written in that paragraph has already been speculated about in other places since 17 January 2024. So Kate allegedly has a colostomy bag? Already been speculated about since day one. Kate had surgery on her large intestine/bowel/colon? Most people were already guessing that it was that kind of surgery, which is why so many people have been convinced she has Crohn's.

Blaming the omission of the specific organ that was under surgery doesn't hold weight after Charles has spoken about being treated for benign prostatic enlargement (BPH). [His specific cancer diagnosis will be revealed after it is in remission, and his medical team doesn't have to worry about metastasis.]

I've never seen anything from JRK that demonstrates she has interesting or valid information from anywhere, and nothing in the paragraph above demonstrates to me that JRK has actual concrete information. What kind of diagnosis did Kate have that led her allegedly to have such serious surgery that she needed to have a colostomy bag for x number of weeks? [You can have intestinal surgery and not need to have a post-op colostomy bag.] Did she have a bowel perforation? Intestinal blockage? Intestinal abscess? Intestinal fistula? There are a ton of possible diagnoses, and this "source" doesn't seem to know anything other than Kate allegedly has a colostomy bag and doesn't want to be seen. You can hide a colostomy bag pretty easily. Lots of people do it all the time.

Since a person can hide a colostomy bag easily and Kate seemingly doesn't want to be seen, then there seems to be at least one other component going on. That seems to indicate that a nervous/emotional/mental breakdown is a factor in all of these events. As I have been saying since day one.

#ask #my gif #Jessica Reed Kraus #rumors...conjecture #kate middleton #Catherine The Princess of Wales

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she-karev · 4 months

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Andrew Comforts Maya (Siblings in Law Imagine)

Age Rating: 12+

Chapters: One of One

Fandom: Station 19

Canon Episode: Season 7 Episode 7

AN: Hey guys so while I did like Beckett comforting Maya after she confronted her brother, I think it would have been more meaningful if it was Andrew instead. That way even when she cut ties with one, she still has a brother on her side. It’s one of the many things they robbed us of when they killed DeLuca.

One Shot Requests?: I’m willing to take one shots of Maya and Carina and more of Andrew and Maya being siblings.

Summary: After confronting her brother Maya Bishop goes to the hospital to look for Carina but runs into her brother-in-law Andrew DeLuca instead who helps her with her hormone shots and she tells him about Mason.

Words: 1168

After his lap chole Andrew walks down the hall heading to the ICU to check on Dorian when he spots his sister-in-law, Maya Bishop yelling at Jules Millin in the lobby who looks scared. He knows how scary Maya can get and with a batch of hormones in her system for egg retrieval it’s like being face to face with a lion after poking it with a stick and stealing it’s food. Andrew quickly heads over to defuse the situation.

“Look can you just find her please? Is that so freaking hard to do around here? Are you interns really as useless as my wife and sister-in-law make you out to be?”

Jules clears her throat, “Um Mrs. DeLuca I’m sorry but your wife isn’t responding to her calls so she must be in surgery. I’m just a messenger.”

Maya looks even more angry with a vein popping out of her forehead, “You know what the famous quote is on what happens to messengers don’t you?”

Andrew faces Maya with scared but pleasant smile, “Hey Maya why don’t we take a walk and you can tell me why it’s so urgent to see Carina while Millin gets back to work, what do you say?”

Maya inhales and exhales sharply, “Fine as long as somebody here is useful!” Andrew leads Maya down the hall away from Millin and cuts to the chase.

“I gotta be honest I didn’t think anybody except Amber could get Millin to pee her pants, but I guess you proved me wrong.”

“Where the hell is Carina?” Maya asks DeLuca impatiently.

“She’s at the mediation with the lady who’s suing her.” Maya groans, “Didn’t she tell you?”

Maya pinches the bridge of her nose, “She did I just had a long day and ran into someone who made me feel worse than I normally do since I started treatment. I forgot about the meeting and now I am here looking for my wife who’s not even here that is fan freaking tastic Bishop!” Maya yells out the last part causing a few workers to stare at them.

Andrew speaks in a calm voice, “Okay what’s up? What do you need?”

Maya groans, “I need to inject my HCG trigger shots in.” Maya checks her watch, “Ten minutes otherwise my eggs won’t be mature enough to be retrieved and my wife won’t get pregnant and will hate me for not giving her a baby she and I so desperately want. I’m trying to find Carina to inject them because only drug addicts and diabetics are used to injecting themselves and I realized this while I was driving home after my inspections so-”

“Okay, okay it’s fine it’ll be fine.” Andrew leads her into the attendings lounge, “We’ll just do the shots here, I’ll help you. It’ll be quick and easy, give me the stuff.” Maya hands him the med pouch that he sets on the table, “And as thanks you can name your future kid after me, Andrew works for a boy or my given name Andrea in case it’s a girl.” He walks over to the sink to wash his hands, “Lift up your shirt for me.”

Maya does so and waits for Andrew to finish scrubbing and putting nylon gloves on from the pantry. He walks over and rips open the alcohol rub wipe when Maya confesses to him in a small and broken voice, “I found my uh…my brother.”

Andrew keeps his shock to himself and sighs in sadness for Maya. He knows the story about how Maya recently saw her brother Mason as one of the hate group protestors during the pride parade. When Carina told him he was shocked someone could be so hateful towards his own sister. When he found out Carina was bisexual, he supported her, the only thing that bothered him was she constantly slept with his ex-girlfriends. But even then, he would never in a million years imagine yelling vicious words at her while she celebrated who she was.

He can see the impact it has on Maya as her anger shifts to that of despair causing him anguish seeing her in pain, “I’m sorry.”

Maya sniffles while Andrew sterilizes her lower abdomen for the shot, “He’s so hateful. I thought-I thought a little piece of him was still left but he’s gone. When I talked to him it wasn’t until later that I realized…I realized I was talking to our father. I didn’t know until today that he became him, just full of hate and anger.” Andrew looks at her in sympathy and turns to fill the injections from the vials, “Oh my god I cut him off. How could I do that?”

“Maya-”

Maya cries, “I’m a horrible person. I left him with our father and now he’s like this because of me.”

“You were kids.” Her brother-in-law states factly, “You two were kids trying to survive a father who made you feel you had to compete for his love. He did that to your brother you didn’t so don’t blame yourself if Mason chose a different path that pushed the people who love him away.” Maya sniffles still crying, “You did what you had to do, not just for you but for your baby. He would have bullied that little boy just like your dad bullied him, you did what you had to do to protect your family. Don’t ever feel bad about that or apologize for it. It’s like with me and my dad I knew there was nothing I could do to make him better so I let him walk away. And when I got sick…I vowed that I wouldn’t force my kids to do that with me. I take my meds and I go to therapy; I do that every day, so my daughter doesn’t get a fraction of what my dad did to me. I had to end the cycle and so did you. It’s horrible and you’ll feel awful but it’s better than opening yourself up to that pain you worked so hard to overcome. Even if you cut off one brother, you’ll still have me. I mean I think I’m a pretty good consolation prize.”

Maya looks up grateful for having him, “Thank you…and for the record you are nobody’s consolation prize.”

“Thanks.” Andrew taps the needle and leans down to Bishop’s stomach, “Ready?”

Maya is still lifting her shirt, “Yeah.” Andrew inserts the needle causing her to groan softly.

After pushing in the hormones, he pulls the shot back and stands back up, “For whatever it’s worth, you’re already a great mom.” Maya looks up at him with red stained eyes, “Come here I got you.” He gently pulls her in for a hug that she doesn’t fight instead she wraps her arms around him and cries against his shoulder letting her grief swim out of her as her brother rubs her back and lets her break down in his arms telling her over and over ‘It’s okay’.

#station 19 #station19edit #maya bishop #andrew deluca #andrew deluca imagine #in laws #brother sister #big brother #big bro/little sis #headcanon #mine #giacomo gianniotti #danielle savre #lgbt pride #lgbtq #pride month #happy pride 🌈#pride 2024

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tornadoyoungiron · 11 months

Text

TRAINTOBER | Day 21 - Roots

Olivia Gresley recalls having an imaginary friend named Polly as a child. The problem is, she's an adult and she's started seeing 'Polly' again…

~~~

“I have a friend, Mr North!” The young girl waved up to her Uncle Nathan. The elder man smiled down at her as she sat up in her bed, recovering from a recent surgery..

Olivia noticed that her Uncle Nathan had been noticeably sadder recently. Olivia didn’t like it when Uncle Nathan was sad.

“How did you make a friend when you haven’t been out little one?” Uncle Nathan asked his voice full of humour.

Olivia frowned. That tone meant that he didn’t believe her.

“She appeared to me! She said she would protect me and make me well!” Olivia pouted at her Uncle. “But you don’t believe me!”

“I’d much like to meet your friend if she exists,” Uncle Nathan mused. “You’ve had imaginary friends in the past little Olivia.”

That was true. But being alone in the hospital with no one but nurses to accompany her made her angsty. She wanted her parents. She wanted her friends, her brothers yet they couldn't see her most of the time.

And so, her imagination went wild. Of course, her parents disapproved and sent Uncle Nathan to dissuade her from such ridiculous fantasies.

But what else was a bored, lonely, young girl to do?

“I know, but this one’s different!” Olivia insisted.

“How so?”

“She just is!” Olivia crossed her arms and pulled a stink face at him. Hurmouring her Uncle Nathan just smiled warmly.

“Alright then, what’s her name?”

Olivia turned away from him and mock-snubbed him.

“You’ll make fun of me!”

“I promise that I won’t,” Uncle Nathan held out his pinky to her and Olivia smirked. “Pinky swear.”

Olivia giggled and took his pinky swear.

“Alright! Her name is Polly!” Olivia brightly exclaimed and though he tried to hide it, Uncle Nathan couldn’t hide his shock. “Pretty Polly!”

~~~

“You’re so grumpy in the morning,” Flying Scotsman noted as Olivia threw out the rest of her coffee into a nearby drain.

“Shut up you,” She sharply retorted. “Don’t forget, I know all your dirty little secrets, all your sneaky little memories.”

“Blackmail Lady Gresley? How unbecoming of you,” Scotsman teased and Olivia just rolled her eyes and glanced at Oscar, who was standing there amused.

“Is he always like this with his drivers?” She asked and Oscar laughed.

“He’s usually worse,” he smirked and Olivia looked back at Flying Scotsman who merely flashed her a smug grin.

“He’s lying Ms Olivia, don’t believe him,” Scotsman beseeched her but Olivia just narrowed her eyes.

“You’re a scamp and I distrust you greatly,” She pointed an accusing finger at the engine.

Scotsman gasped dramatically in response.

“Who, me?” He asked innocently.

Olivia just shook her head and frowned.

“You’d speak to Sir Gresley like that?” She asked and a sheepish look appeared over Scotsman’s face.

“Only if I was feeling brave,” He mumbled embarrassed. “Or if my sister Polly was with me.”

Olivia stepped forward slightly, curious now. Or all his siblings, he spoke of Polly the highest. As much as he did Gordon, which was something notable.

“What was so special about Polly?” She asked and Scotsman just smiled, a look of deep nostalgia and comfort spreading across his face.

“Everything.”

Olivia nodded and went to start steaming Scotsman up for the day but stopped when a flash of gold appeared in the corner of her eye along with what she thought was the soft laughter of a woman.

She frowned but thought nothing of it.

After all, it surely had something to do with being the newly appointed LNER Golden Warden, right?

Right?

~~~

"Scotty, I think sometimes you do these things to annoy mummy, yes?" Olivia chastised her baby boy as she bent down to clear the food the boy had, not so much 'dropped,' but thrown all over the floor.

The little baby boy just laughed at her, oblivious to his mother’s annoyance. Olivia stood back and sighed, exhausted and petulant pout on her face.

The sound of the kitchen door opening drew her attention and she looked up to find Oscar coming back from work, smelling of soot and Flying Scotsman’s coals.

“It looks like something exploded in here!” He remarked which earned him a scowl from Olivia.

“Someone needs to learn that food goes in his mouth and not on the floor,” she defended as Oscar snorted.

“Or the walls, or the table or his mum,” Oscar snickered.

“Oh, shut up!” Olivia threw the cleaning rag at him in annoyance and Oscar just laughed at her.

“Scotsman was in a temper today too, it must be annoyed Gresley day,” Oscar smirked and Olivia rolled her eyes and chose not to respond to that as she went to the sink to finish cleaning up.

Oscar went on his merry way, more than happy to get out of his work clothes as Olivia collected what she needed from the sink.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw something glimmer. She looked up and stared out the window at the garden. Outside next the the pond where a few mallards were lazily swimming around stood a strange ghost-like apparition made out of gold dust.

Olivia froze in shock as she stared at them as they smiled at her. It couldn’t be… she had made her up, she was a figment of her imagination. There was no way that-

“Olivia?” Oscar called directly in her ear and Olivia almost jumped out of her skin she was so startled. “Whoa hey! It’s only me!”

“Huh?” Olivia turned to look at Oscar, staring at her dumbfounded.

“You’ve been staring out of the window for like 5 minutes now, you okay?”

“I’m-” Olivia looked back out the window and back at the ‘ghost’. It had vanished and Olivia shook her head. “I didn’t get much sleep last night, sorry.”

“Nah, it’s okay Liv, I understand,” Oscar smiled and threw his arms around her shoulders. “Do you want to get North to clean up instead?”

“He still has a broken leg, that would be cruel!” Olivia argued. “Don’t worry, I got this.”

“You always say that but I do worry you put yourself through the wringer too much,” Oscar murmured. “Here, I’ll clean this up, you go rest.”

Olivia gave a sigh of relief and turned to hug him in gratitude.

“Thanks,” she mumbled into his shoulder as he embraced her.

~~~

Olivia hadn’t meant to fall asleep, one second she was on the couch scrolling through her phone the next she was feeling rails beneath her wheels and a stream flowing through her tubes making her feel alive, feel free once again.

It was a dream, Olivia knew it was a dream perhaps influenced by Flying Scotsman’s memories but something was off. At the back of her mind knew that this wasn’t Flying Scotsman. The engine was that of an LNER A3 Pacific but the smoke deflectors didn’t sit like his. Instead, they sat like a crown around her chimney.

She looked up, a stranger in this form to see a Green A4 LNER approaching this other, her, engine.

“Good Morning Pretty Polly!” The engine called and the engine, her engine, laughed in response.

“Well, a Good Morning to you to Perry!” Her engine responded with an equally cheery tone. It was a voice she often heard when she was little. A voice she thought that she had made up.

Suddenly, a lot of things made sense.

“Pretty Polly,” Olivia muttered to herself as she opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling.

She could feel a very familiar presence standing right beside her. A presence that she thought she had imagined as a kid. A presence that she had had to abandon after the other kids at school laughed at her when they spotted her talking to ‘herself.’

A presence that only Uncle Nathan, or North had strangely believed was actually there despite dismissing her other imaginary friends.

Olivia turned to look and saw a tall woman, appearing as a ghost made of Gold Dust. A woman she hadn’t seen since she was small and ill with a frail heart.

“Hello Pretty Polly,” Olivia smiled at the ghost.

“Hello Olivia, I’ve missed your company dearest child,” the ghost greeted her. “You must have many questions.”

“Too many,” Olivia nodded to her. “But regardless, how have you been?”

Polly giggled, a delightful sound that made Olivia feel wonderful and uplifted.

“I’ve been missing you and strangely enough, North too.”

“Can you speak to him? Through me like Scotsman did?” Olivia asked and Polly nodded.

“Personally I’ve been watching him and I think he’s a bit of a shut in,” she remarked with a wave of her hand. There was a tone of sadness to her voice. “He’s become so depressed. I think you should take him out to coffee.”

Olivia smiled.

“That sounds like a grand idea.”

~~~

So to answer a question the North himself had a while ago, yes, Olivia is very aware of Pretty Polly’s ghost using her as a vessel to communicate with the world. Polly wouldn’t have been able to without Olivia’s consent, same as Scotsman.

#traintober #traintober 2023 #ttte fanfic #ttte flying scotsman #ttte great northern #ttte young iron #ttte pretty polly

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gaslightgallows · 1 year

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I regretfully demand 2) If you don't find me, you'll find the things. You'll touch what my hand touches. : Crowley and Muriel, bookshop bay-beeeeeeeeeee

“Those don’t go there,” Crowley snarled, suddenly appearing at the door of the basement with a case of bottles.

Muriel, formerly 37th level Scrivener, jumped, though not as much as they would have only a few days before, which they were rather proud of. As the nice human lady at the record shop put it, ‘Mr. Crowley’s bark is worse than his bite.’ Muriel wasn’t entirely sure what that meant; all the information they’d ever seen about the demon Crowley indicated that he favoured snakes over dogs, and Muriel was reasonably sure that snakes didn’t bark. But they had yet to see either one up close.

“What doesn’t go where?” they asked.

“Those books. They don’t go there.” He jerked his chin at a dusty corner shelf, far away from where Muriel had started to shelve the items. “Over there. That’s where he kept them.”

“But…,” they started, as he set the case of alcohol down on a chair and snatched the books from Muriel’s hands, “wouldn’t it be better to—“

“Better to what?” The slitted yellow eyes glared at her.

“Um.” Muriel twisted their fingers together and debated trying to take the books back. “Well, better to put them where people can find them? Like, putting books by the same author together? Or maybe books that are about the same things should go together?”

Crowley raised his eyebrows. “People? You think the point of this bookshop is for people to come in and buy books?”

“Well,” Muriel said, with a nervous gush of a giggle, “that’s what a shop is for… right?”

“There are a million other places for people to buy books from, these days,” the demon retorted. “Amazon, for one.” He wouldn’t take credit for Amazon anymore, but online bookselling had significantly cut down on Aziraphale’s foot traffic, and the angel had been so pleased. “This shop doesn’t sell books.”

“So, it’s like… a library? Ooh, or an archive!”

“Yeah, sure, call it whatever you want, just don’t sell anything. And make sure it’s an archive of stuff where only you know where to find things. That’s the important bit. Makes the customers annoyed and less likely to come back.”

Muriel smiled broadly. “Great! I’ll just go, um…” Their eyes lighted on a stack of volumes of poetry that a recent customer had been prevented from purchasing, due to an inconveniently missing wallet and a sudden cold feeling on the back of his neck, as though a large reptile was glaring at him from the shadows. “I’ll just go put these with the cookery books.”

“Sure,” Crowley sighed, “that’ll do.” He looked down at the books in his hands, and for a moment, held them a fraction of an inch closer to his chest.

One by one, he sifted through them. There was the Alanson copy of Milton’s Paradise Lost (originally owned by the grandfather of some pioneer of surgery, printed in 1711, that was still missing its cover), a second American edition of C.S. Lewis’s Perelandra, and a wallpaper-covered copy of Jane Austen’s (Jane! Austen!) Love & Freindship from the 1920s. The Lewis and Austen books, he shoved into the shop’s most uninviting corner shelf, in between a natural history of octopuses and a manual of traditional wood carving. But he hung onto the Alanson.

Crowley fucking hated Paradise Lost. He made a point of making sure every copy that made it into the shop got stored under the lavatory sink with its dripping pipe. But this one had escaped him. Aziraphale had faithfully promised the previous owner in 1956 that he would repair the book and return it to them as soon as they paid, but the years went by and there was no payment, so it remained in the shop, half-denuded of boards and smelling strongly of dust and vanilla, the way old rag paper did as it decayed slowly over time.

He chafed the little book between his hands, feeling the crumbling edges and the imprints of the plump, deft angelic hands that had held it last.

A hand on his chest, reassuring him. Hands on his back, holding him in place when they ought to have pushed him away. Hands that always smelled of old dust and vanilla.

A snarl curled his lips, but it was a silent, half-hearted one.

He slipped the battered book into his back pocket and took it upstairs, along with the case of wine.

Want a Good Omens ficlet for your very own? The list is here, drop a # and a character/pairing in my ask box!

#gaslight blogs about fic #sad crowley #good omens #good omens 2 spoilers #nellachronism #prompt and ye shall receive #good omens fanfic #ficlets #prompt fill

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