#if i get frustrated you might be scared of me. fear teaches nothing but to be afraid!

[summitclan-chronicles]

would you ever consider a design prompt for kits? or will kit players be able to make some minor tweaks to designs at all? Just trying to understand this a bit more, sorry if it's a bit repetitive! :0 I'm used to a more collaborative way of litters being done, via a secret litter channel that has the nesting parents + the chosen kit players or the previously stated design prompts. Again, sorry if you've answered all these questions before! The randomness is a very new system to me im interested to learn more about it ^o^

Hi-hi!

Let's get something more minor out first: the more times a question is asked, the more people are likely to see & know the answer. When followers get notifs, and new friends scroll the blog, they get this info repeated to them - and repetition is EVERYTHING. The more we ask, the better we know!

Alright, onward to the real question 🤺

I want to make it absolutely clear that the systems I put in place are not new or different because the old & traditional ways are inferior or flawed. I don't consider my methods improvements, only different methods.

That being said, the whole point of this new system is that noone actually knows what they look like when they're born. Noone can choose their nose, their eyes, their ears - noone knows they have those things at first. Nor can parents eat certain foods or drink certain teas to ensure their child grows over 6'4 or has green eyes, or go to a special land where they pluck features. Because of this, there's an element of gift-recieving when a new person arrives: he has your nose! she's got auntie's smile! she sounds just like her daddy! wow your sister looks just like you! you really grew up to look like grandpa!

In every single other roleplay, everything can be fully decided by the person experiencing it, and modify the situation into which their character is born via discussion with parents. My aim with a system where everything is pre-decided for you* is to invoke new feelings of excitement, surprise, connection and intrigue. Something to look forward to, get butterflies about, and celebrate.

*well in advance! kittens don't get players nor gain real sapience until they're 1 month old. your character already experienced 4 weeks of events they won't ever remember, but may have already affected them fundamentally.

Now that you know the why, I will answer your question: no, members will not be able to tweak or change their character's appearance should they be born ingame. they will always be based on genetics & designed by me, a surprise first when the litter is born and second when the new player arrives!

& as a reminder, joining as an already living individual does allow you to fully decide the design of your character regardless of how young they happen to be, as long as their genetics check out with known kin.

[blooming-violets]

Hiiii, I am in love with your writing!!!! 😍😍Can I get a tasm peter parker fic with this prompt?? Thank you

"42. braiding the other’s hair"

A/N: They didn't actually get to the hair braiding but they, at least, talk about it.

-

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! What are you doing?"

Peter leapt off the nursey floor to grab a giant box out of your hands. A half made crib lay scattered in his wake.

"You know you're not supposed to lift heavy things," he chastised you. "Did you carry this all the way up to our apartment? Have you gone insane?"

You chuckled, knowing his over protectiveness would only continue to grow once the baby finally arrived. "It's fine, Peter. Mr. Johnson across the hall carried it up for me. All I did was bring it from the front door to the bedroom. That's about thirty eight steps total. I think I'll be okay."

He tossed the box carrying your new stroller onto the floor and fell to his knees in front of you. His breathing steadied as he focused his hearing, placing his ear directly against your large belly.

"Stop trying to listen to the baby! She's okay! Walking a couple steps isn't going to damage her," You swatted him away. "Your hearing isn't perfect and it always makes you panic. Remember last month when you claimed you couldn't hear her heart beating anymore? What did we do? A trip to the emergency room at 3 in the morning, for what? Nothing. She was perfectly fine. I'm not trying to explain to the doctor that my husband is scared because he thinks he has super hearing."

"I do have super hearing," he sighed, hopping back to his feet. "Well...sometimes. It's not a perfect science and I might have overreacted once or twice."

"Once or twice, my ass." Your eyes travelled over to the stroller box. "Can we put it together now? I want to see what it looks like."

Peter looked from the half assembled crib then back to you, "Absolutely not. I'll get the parts all mixed up. Next thing I know, we'll have a crib with wheels attached to the bottom."

You widened your eyes and pouted out your bottom lip, silently pleading with him.

It only took a solid two seconds of staring into your face before his shoulders sagged in defeat, "Okay fine. Let's do it."

You sat on your new glider chair, feet propped up on the footrest in front of you, while you watched Peter put together the stroller. You opted to help but he insisted you sit and not move. If you'd let him, you were fairly certain he would willingly carry you everywhere. The less your feet touched the ground when you were the pregnant, the more relaxed Peter was.

He huffed with frustration as he attempted to pop a wheel into place.

"Why does it feel like you need a degree in rocket science to put all this baby shit together?" He grumbled.

His eyes lifted to meet with yours, all the annoyance immediately draining from his face, only to be replaced with a glowing smile. It was like you feel the love the radiating out of him. The man adored you, there was no question about it.

"As long as it's safe, it's worth the extra effort I think," you smiled at him and held up your phone to show him what you were currently shopping for. "Look at these cute bows. Do you think it's too early to have a bow collection? I'm tempted to buy them. I hope she let's me do her hair when she's older. Think of all the cute hairstyles."

Peter's eyes widened in fear, "I don't know how to do girl's hair!"

You laughed under your breath, "It's okay. You'll learn. I doubt she'll actually have do-able hair until she's much older anyway."

"No!" He whined, the panic already setting in. "I need to know now! What if something happens to you and I'm left alone with her? Who will teach me? I don't know to do anything. She's going to be all mismatched and raggedy with unbrushed hair. I'm going to be a terrible single dad..."

You sat up, putting out your hands to stop his spiraling, "Hold on, try not to immediately jump to my death, please. I'd prefer to be alive in your visions of the future. I have no plans on dying any time soon." You hoisted yourself out of the chair and waddled over to him, offering your hand down to him. "Get up. That's enough baby assembly for tonight. We can resume it tomorrow. I want to sit on the couch with my husband and watch Supernanny. It gives me hope to see so many terrible parents and know that we won't follow in their footsteps."

He took your hand and pushed himself to his feet, hiding his face into the crook of your neck, "Am I going to be a bad dad?"

"No," you said it with conviction. If there was one thing in this world you truly believed, it was that Peter Parker would be a wonderful father. "Are you going to love our baby unconditionally? Are you going to do everything in your power to make sure she has a happy, safe environment so she can grow into a companionate, caring young person?"

He nodded, giving a muffled grunt into your neck.

"Then you will be a good dad. Come on, I'll teach you how to braid my hair as we watch tv. You have spider DNA. Something tells me you'll be a master at weaving strands together."

[rosenongrata]

heavy in your arms – i

Summary: After losing a challenge against Dr. Ratio, Kagome feels herself to be indebted to him. She returns the “favor”, only to be surprised by his sudden compassion and consideration.

A/N: RAHHHH I LOVE THESE TWO TOGETHER FOR SOME REASON. WHAT. FUCK IT WE BALL?? anyway. this is. very much didn't have a definitive plot in mind lmaooo. enjoy anyway ? might write a pt2 or smth. lol we'll seeeee

c.w/s:MDNI/NOTSFW. OC x Canon, OC-insert. soft Ratio hours. slightly implied past SA in the OCs past (not by any characters), but it's rly vague. oral sex (OC/fem receiving). soft soft soft times. have i said it's soft? anyway, if i forgot something, hmu!

w.c: 1.2k

“Dr. Ratio…” Kagome mutters, gloved hands on his thighs – he can feel the nervous tremble in her palms, extending to her whole body. “Please…be gentle with me—” She clears her throat as she sits on her knees in front of him, “Th-this is a mere favor, s-so don’t test my patience—”

“You can call me Veritas now.” He sighs, one of his fully unclothed hands snaking its way to cover her own – but it only makes her tremble and grimace further. “This is no demand from me, I am certain you know this… Correct?”

“Y-Yes, sir…” She nods and stares up at him, her pupils constricted with what he assumes is fear.

He sighs again, eyes now laden with mild frustration and mostly confusion, “Kagome.” He grabs both of her hands, causing her heart to jump into her throat as he pulls her to her feet, “I will not allow you to do this if you are frightened. I do not know exactly what is causing your fright, but I will not be taking advantage of it.” He informs, voice heavy with severity.

“My apologies…” She turns her head away – eyes screwed shut – but he’s quick to angle her face back toward him, “Huh?” Her eyes blow wide open again while a nervous sweat breaks out on her forehead and neck.

“Do not apologize for whatever you believe you did wrong. You have neither offended or upset me thus far. So, quit apologizing over nothing.” He commands with an abnormal amount of fragility in his tone.

“I-I– But, I–”

He presses his lips against her own – deep and fierce, but not with an ounce of roughness. One of his hands slips over the back of her head while the spare one cradles her lower back. She gasps from the shift of words to action, a moan soon following after – leaving wonderful tingles along his lips.

“If you cannot stop apologizing, then I will simply have to silence you.” He smirks, soft and hot breaths brushing against her velvety smooth lips.

She blinks repeatedly – for once taking a long moment to register what’s happening. He lets her take an adequate amount of time, his gilded stare watching her diligently – taking in every subtle reaction she has. Despite their many years of knowing each other, he’s never seen her so emotional – let alone distraught – before now. It makes the hardy plaster around his heart crack a little – it’s not everyday you get to see a member of the Genius Society fall apart before you.

He takes no pleasure from this experience of witnessing her be so scared of him, yet he finds so much intimacy in being what feels like the first person to see her like this – fragile. While he may be as sturdy as stone, he keeps a silent promise to treat her like porcelain.

The fit of giggles that break out from her tears him away from his thoughts, eliciting him to raise a thin dark purple brow.

“What is so funny?” He inquires, leaning dangerously close to her face again.

“Aha– I’m so sorry. I just– You…you’re really, truly, utterly horrific at kissing.” She continues to giggle, “A-And you’re so dorky… So confident about everything you do and are, even smirking when you get a reaction from me… It’s…rather cute.” She flusters, her laughing dying down as she glances anywhere else that isn’t him.

“…I am truly flattered, Kagome.” He deadpans, his voice flooded with sarcasm. “Then, if you are so skilled at kissing… Teach me.” He smirks once more, slowly backing her up into the nearby wall of his office – all with his hands firm on her curvy hips.

“…Proposal accepted. However…” She breathes – the sweet scent of the sakura mochi she had earlier hits his senses, “Do know it’s merely a matter of…experience.”

“I am happy to inform you that I am more than willing to learn.” His lopsided smirk evens out into a thin smile.

Her eyes latch on to his thin lips, all while her hand brushes some of his dark locks away from his eyes. “And…take your time, there’s no rush… I plan to give you ample time.” She snickers, planting a hesitant yet soft kiss on the corner of his mouth.

The praise brings an odd sense of warmth and shyness to all of him, a blush rising to his cheeks despite his slight grimace.

“Hush,” He commands, “Let me conduct my experiment now.” He pivots his head to fully meet her lips again, pressing his mouth deep against her own with his body flush against hers. This time he holds back on his passion, easing his way into her heart – all with her soft, delicate lips in mind.

“V-Veritas!” Kagome heaves, soft moans rolling off her tongue, “Y-You’re improving so quickly – ngh!” Her toned leg quakes as it rests over his broad shoulder, her other leg is the only thing barely holding her up all while he noses her clit and devours her core with heated, fervent licks and sucks.

When he removes his head from her heat – lower face covered in her wet lust – he grins up at her while licking his lips.

“A higher rating… Now I am more than confident I will get you to cum with no more wasted time.” He immediately dives back in, his licking and sucking even more passionate than before.

His suspicions are correct, too – so he swiftly takes her other leg and rests it over his free shoulder as well. She gasps – with her tearful eyes and broken smile – she finds his ability to hold nearly all of her weight up sexy and endearing. She braces one hand against the wall she’s pinned against, her free hand grabbing a fistful of his thick locks and pulling him further into her.

One of his hands leaves her thick thigh, moving to slip two fingers into her heated, dripping wet hole. A sharp gasp and heavy moan leaves her as she shakes and screws her eyes shut. She moans loud and clear when his fingers curl against her walls, pressing onto a sweet spot.

“Yes, that’s a good girl.” He detaches his mouth from her overstimulated clit, “Now, cum for me.” He commands before giving her clit a hard suckle.

“MMH – NGH–!” She bites down on her bottom lip, nearly breaking skin. Her eyes roll to the back of her head as she throws it back against the now warm wall.

She does cum – all over his chin and mouth, leaving streaks of white fluid along his lips which he promptly licks off. He even sucks his fingers clean, groaning softly at the taste of her.

“Delectable.” He remarks, leaving kisses on her folds a few times before he rises to his feet, moving her legs to wrap around his still-clothed hips while he shifts his position.

“Wh-what a good boy you are, Veri…” She whispers lustfully, grabbing his chin between her thumb and two other fingers. “Now… About that…favor.”

“Do not worry yourself to death about that damned favor. All I need you to do is sit back and relax… I will take the utmost care of you.” He presses several gentle kisses up her neck, moving his way to her jawline one kiss at a time. “…Are you ready now or shall we wait until a proper time and place? My office is hardly the ideal location for me to take you.”

“Let’s have a nice little date first… No formalities or facades – only ourselves in all earnesty. You can pick the time and place… I don’t mind.” She pulls his face to her own, planting a feather-light kiss on his lips,

“Impress me, Veri.”

[winterlovesong1]

A Nace comparison evaluation of 2x01 and 4x03…

(this is very lengthy as a warning...)

Nancy is the one to enter the scene in 2x01. She’s the one to start the conversation, to gain Ace’s attention. Because she feels like its her responsibility, it’s her wrongdoing to make right…

 Nancy: I know that you blame me for getting us into this situation. And I really want to make it right, but I can’t do that if you’re mad at me.

 It’s her burden to carry, her weight to distribute upon both her shoulders. As if she has no one to help her. No one else she can trust to aid her through to a solution. She’s the one that needs to make it right.

 (but Ace is there. Ace has always been there. To help. To share the burden)

 Ace: What I’m mad at, is the idea that I might die very soon. Right when I’m figuring out how to be a part of something I really care about.

 Ace has found his purpose, his place to land, a place he feels appreciated, safe, and can thrive. And Nancy is a person within that place, she resides there and is a much apart of making it that way as the rest of the crew. And he doesn’t want that to end. He doesn’t want that to be lost.

 What he’ll later refer to…

 Nancy: I’m not gonna let us die.

 Ace: I never doubted that.

 Ace believes in this community – in his crew - but what he really places a lot of his faith in is Nancy. Her fortitude and perseverance are constants that never waver. And he admires them. He aspires to them.

 (he wishes he wasn’t so lacking in them…)

 (but Nancy teaches him he’s not)

 (Nancy teaches him he’s just as courageous, if not more so, than herself)

 Nancy: So, you’re still mad?

 Ace: I’m scared. Sometimes you just have to let fear be.

 Ace himself saying it’s ok to be scared. It’s ok to feel the uncertainty that life brings and rest in that for a little while. It’s ok to be vulnerable. To just be. And he’s voicing this to Nancy. He’s admitting these truths to her. A leap because Nancy is so guarded herself, protecting herself, unwilling to share things like this most of the time. Going back to the point of Nancy teaching Ace he was never lacking, he has always brave in his honesty with her.

 Ace: Next time you feel like sacrificing yourself, to prove you’re not a Hudson. Please don’t. Just ‘cause I’m mad at you doesn’t mean I want to lose you.

 This is where I’m going to also list the quote from 4x03 and see how that pairs with this one…

 Ace: If there is a death curse on us, maybe it would be better to not fight it. And exist in a world together. As friends.

 Going back to the just ‘cause I’m mad at you doesn’t mean I want to lose you quote in 2x01, it’s the idea that even though one negative emotion exists, whether it’s anger or frustration or feeling defeated, that doesn’t mean he doesn’t want her present. He wants her around to feel all those emotions alongside. To share in all of it  – even the bad - maybe, even especially the bad, because he’s felt alone his entire life, told he was lacking and wouldn’t amount to much, but with her, she makes him feel less alone, she makes him feel a part of something, she makes him feel like he’s worth so much. And so, he’d rather have her around to share in at least those things, in at least the few things that lie outside the realm of being together, the things that live in the peripheral of strong feelings and their undeniable connection to each other. He’d rather experience at least those things than live in a world where she didn’t exist. Where he couldn’t experience anything with her. Nothing at all. Because she’s gone.

 (because he lost her)

 Nancy: Did you not feel what I felt?

 Ace: Of course, I did. But then you weren’t breathing. And I was holding you in my arms. And going through everything that you went through in Temperance’s hallucination, and it was awful. And I totally get why you were hesitant to tell me the truth.

 This was the worst possible outcome for him. Because again, he doesn’t want to lose her – he can’t lose her – and going through that, it only solidifies in his mind that very fact. It’s not an option. There’s no other path than backward. Hence, the I can’t go forward. Hence, why it hurts so much when she says I can’t go back because that’s the only way he knows how to move.

 (that’s the only way to keep her safe)

 (to not lose her)

 Nancy: Right, but I’m not scared anymore. I let fear keep me away from you for too long.

 This is an interesting tie into Ace’s quote from 2x01 about I’m scared. Sometimes you just have to let fear be. He was saying it was ok to let yourself feel afraid, but what he maybe didn’t say, what he perhaps was implying was its ok to let fear be, but not for it stay. It’s ok to let it visit, but don’t let it linger, allow it to visit, and then let it leave. Let it go.

 And that’s what Nancy’s done. That’s what she’s learned to do.

 (with his help)

 Ace: But watching you collapse almost killed me.

 They’ve already tempted the curse once. And while he didn’t fully know it prior, he’s now gone through that experience himself, fully, vividly, and not just as a sideline listener to a story told through Nancy’s perspective, not just through her words that, while she told the details of what happened, she could never truly illustrate what she felt, what she experienced. But now he knows – now he’s shared in that similar experience, and he is not wanting to tempt this curse again because he’s seen the risk – he’s experienced the risk – and what he’d be risking is her – what he’d be losing is her.

 Bringing it back to 2x01…

 Just ‘cause I’m mad at you doesn’t mean I want to lose you.

 It’s the ultimate for him. No matter what -  he can’t lose her. And then he says what I believe is an updated version of that quote…

 Ace: I want to be with you more than anything. But it is not worth the risk.

 It’s a revised version that includes the love they have now expressed openly to each other but can’t act on. Because the risk is too great. Losing her is too great.

 And then while Nancy is the one to enter the scene in 2x01, Ace is the one to enter in 4x03. Because he has the burden now. He has the weight resting on his shoulders of an apology of sorts like Nancy was trying to give in 2x01. He’s trying to express I’m sorry I didn’t realize this was the price – losing you – and that’s too great for me.

 (that’s the ultimate for me)

 But what’s an interesting parallel is that Ace is the one to leave in both scenes. He’s the one to leave Nancy to think about the conversation. Because Ace is always trying to maintain Nancy’s agency in her choices. He’s never trying to push her to a decision. Even when she’s the one to offer her regrets or mistakes in 2x01, he’s the one to essentially give her space, to say in him leaving it’s your decision what you do with these words, it’s your decision how you process this. And he does the same in 4x03.

 He might be telling her his fears, but even with his approach he was saying “let’s talk about this…” – to share the words, to not deliver her a preset decision.

 And so he leaves and gives her space to process. And I think in both scenes it’s a call to reevaluate – for Nancy in 2x01, it was to recognize she wasn’t alone in her burden – she had people to rest her weight on – to share in that weight – she had a crew – she had Ace. She didn’t have to make it right all by herself. She didn’t have to sacrifice herself. Alone. And in 4x03, it’s similar. It’s a call to reevaluate. Because the rules have changed. It’s not him that’s being lost. It’s her. And that changes things. That changes things for him. And so, she has to reevaluate how they move forward because he can’t and she can’t go back.

 So where does that leave them?

 Maybe they don’t move at all. Maybe they stay where they are and they share the burden – they share the weight with those around them – they let people in to help. Because they aren’t alone in this.

 They never were.

[public-trans-it]

Fleurs de Mort

Content warnings for cults, death, suicide ideation, and mental trauma

A lot of people have a fairly common fear of death. I… kinda don’t. I have a pretty uncommon fear of death, I think.

For those not in the know, I used to be in a cult. Cult in several scare quotes. The creators never intended it to become a cult, and it was only meant to be like a study group for the overlap of occultism and the founders spirituality. Specifically around how their view of the afterlife was shaped by the three of them being Jewish people that got into occultism. I should stress that there were no fees or divisions of labor or any of the manipulation tactics that make cults dangerous, which is why I’m hesitant to actually call it one.

It was, however, in ever sense of the word a death cult, but not the kind you hear about in media. It was focused on growth, and suicide was considered the single worst thing a person could do. It was about exploring occult teachings to explore your own life in new ways, and grow to be more and more, because when you died you became something more. Something greater. And you required lived experiences to grow enough to survive in that new state.

The founders of the cult did a lot of work, filtering out people who had a mental state that might not mesh well with it. The first signs of depression or suicidal ideation and they would pull you aside and do their best to help you because they were well aware of how dangerous the subject matter was and none of them wanted blood on their hands.

Unfortunately, I didn’t really… interact much. I wasn’t that active a member. I just kind of observed passively. So there were no red flags, nothing they could have spotted or done to pull me aside and help me. They had no way of knowing what was happening inside my head, and how it changed me, at a fundamental level.

I ended up leaving, explain my mental health was in a bad state and it wouldn’t be safe for me to be around the subject matter much longer. The heads of the cult understood and wished me the best. We still talked for a while after that, played minecraft together a few times. Watched some movies. Just stayed friends for a bit before slowly drifting apart.

But the seed of that flower had already been planted deep in my mind, and had begun growing into something else. Blossoming isn’t the right word for what it did though. It constrained a part of my mind. All those teachings, all my neuroses, it bound them together tight and sealed them away in the back of my mind, repressed thoughts I forgot even existed until about a year ago. That became my first alter, the first hint of my DID as my mind fractured itself to stop the growth of that seed. It now lies dormant, pruning itself, culling away aspects of my personality that are unsatisfactory to it. The rest of us are slaughtered, rarely surviving more than a few months, torn apart and stitched back together as the pieces of us that fall away are used as the fertilizer for its growth.

The only time it awakens is long enough to stop me from pulling the trigger when things get to bad. It won’t ever help me fix my life, help me do the things I need to make the pain stop. Pain and suffering is inconsequential to it. They are just more lived experiences with which it can foster its own growth. As long as I don’t pull the trigger, as long as I don’t take that step off the edge, it doesn’t care what happens to me.

If I manage to fix my life and get it on the right track? Well that’s useful. Those parts make the best fertilizer for what it needs to grow, and so it cuts those parts away and digs its roots into them, hiding them away from me. It’s frustrating, and it makes life incredibly difficult.

The person I am changes so quickly, rebuilding myself out of the scraps it leaves behind. Making an identity or two out of the remains and hoping against hope that this time it’s functional enough to allow me to live without drawing its attention.

And so I’m left here, thinking about life, and about death. Most people fear death as an end. What if nothing exists after it? How horrifying, they think. My fear of death is far more complex. I’ve felt it so many times, felt my identity crumble and be ripped apart. If the death of my body was just that again, I have nothing to fear.

My fear, is that it’s not the end. My fear is this plant finally blooming, and what will happen after that. Will it take us with it? Will it leave us behind? Are we just a means to and end for it? Something to be discarded after this stage of our existence is over with?

I have lived with this thing in my head for nearly a decade now. And my fear is that only in death will I find out if it was the tether holding me together, or the parasite ripping me apart.

[yzeltia]

Memories of Water

Y'zel flattened his ears as he shyly stood behind one of the many rock formations of the delta, trembling a bit as he looked back the way his cousin had led him, scared that they might be followed. "Y'mhitra, wait. I don't want father to get mad. I'm not supposed to come down here because of the witch…"

He shrank back a little as his cousin came around the stone pillar to take his hand. "Don't be such a coward Y'zel. You're getting big enough to know better aren't you," his elder cousin insisted.

Tucking his tail, the young Miqo'te squeezed her hand and let her carry him inward towards the grotto. "But I hear she eats frogs and sends brooms after bad kids that don't do their chores!"

"Well, you're not a frog and I hope you did your chores," the elder seeker teased. "Besides, she teaches Y'shtola magic! Don't you want to see if she'll teach us something?"

Y’zel’s young mind went through his morning, making sure he left nothing undone, his cousin’s words doing little to assuage his fears of the tales told to him by adults. As they wandered forward, they suddenly felt a rush of aether followed by a loud blast accompanied by watching Y’hmitra’s big sister flying backward and landing on her butt. The teen stood, ears and tail high as she looked on. “Oh! You old hag! I’ll show you,” she called before turning to see her two family members staring wide-eyed. 

“Causing problems,” Y’mhitra asked with a giggle. 

“Not likely. I just wanted to learn how to create my own familiars and she scolded me for getting too big for my britches.”

“Um…well, you’re just an apprentice aren’t you…Isn’t it dangerous to call forth the elementals…” Y’zel asked timidly. 

“How are you supposed to be a good husband if you’re scared of everything,” Yhmitra teased, crossing her arms as the two girls laughed, the boy turning bright red. 

“I promise you it’s perfectly safe. Should I show you little Nuhn,” the eldest asked before walking ahead of the two. 

“I don’t want to be a Nuhn…” he mumbled, following his cousins, hands stuffed in his pockets as he puffed out his cheeks in frustration. 

Arriving at a wooden bridge, Y’shotla tossed a water crystal into the shallows and then raised her crook before her, eyes closed while the boy looked around with his other cousin. “Nothing’s happen-” 

“Shh!” Y’hmitra scolded.

“From ocean rise and cloudbank form, From mountain spring and rainfall storm, From river flow and life be born, Water, Water, Froth and Foam!”

Blue light erupted from the depths before three large bubbles formed before they burst, revealing three Nixies, “Water, Water, Froth and Foam! Time to Play,” they sang before floating around the three.

Y’zel’s and Y’hmitra’s eyes widened as they watched the creatures dance around them, Y’shotla proudly looking on. Reaching out, the young boy tried to take hold of one, in his arms, only to find him soaked ear to toe, earning more of his cousin’s teasing.

Soon a game of Nixie tag began, the three running away laughing as the familiars chased them about, shooting bubbles at them. They hardly noticed as the sun started to wane, the sky quickly becoming amber. Y’zel laughed as he was chased around a rock before hearing one of the floating spirits cry out. Turning around, he found a puddle in place of the spirit chasing him before catching the sight of two ruin blasts flying by and impacting the Nixie, causing them to swell up and explode. 

“Y’zel! To me,” a gruff voice ordered. 

The boy seized up as he turned, seeing a towering white-haired miqo’te slam a book close in his palm, teal eyes narrowed. Frowning, he ran up to his father. “Father! You hurt the Ni-” 

“Silence boy! You! I know you bring yourself to consort with the witch, but you will not lure my son down here again, understood,” he asked, pointing to Y’shotla. “This is far too dangerous of an area to be playing in. And to bring little Y’hmitra along with your schemes.” 

Y’shotla narrowed her eyes. “With all due respect cousin, Master Matoya is a great sorceress that rivals even the great Louisoix. She very well may have the power to keep us safe from the Garleans.” 

“Pah. She’s made it clear how she feels about the Forum. If you wish to consort with her, leave Y’zel out of this.” 

“Daddy, please, we were just-” 

“Enough.” 

“Cousin Y’lem…please. I’m the one who brought him down here. Please don’t be cross,” Y’hmitra protested. 

The man took in a deep breath, then rubbed the bridge of his nose before looking at the girl. “Y’zel knew better to come down here. That is that. I suggest you return home with us…and you get back to your master,” he huffed, looking from the younger sibling to the elder before roughly pressing his palm behind his son’s back and ushering him towards home. 

The three walked in silence, the younger two with their ears folded and tails tucked. Sighing, Y’lem shook his head. “It is dangerous down here. That witch has no interest in cooperating with The Forum and I’d bet my seat her plan to stave off the Empire is fruitless. Who knows what could have happened? Not to mention a novice in magic calling forth elementals. You’re lucky you both aren’t drowned.” 

“Sorry…” the two said in unison. 

The man huffed then shook his head. “Don’t be sorry, be responsible. Y’zel, you’re old enough to know better than to be led on. What kind of leader follows along with the whims of others when he knows they’re wrong?”

“A bad one…?”

Y’hmitra paused for a moment then tugged on the man’s robes. “But cousin, we are family,

have not followed tribal law since our ancestors were recognized by Old Sharlyan as citizens.”

Y’lem let out another heavy sigh then reached down to ruffle the boy’s hair. “I believe, though members of the enlightened nation, that we should have not wholly abandoned our heritage outright. To pretend we’re above Seeker tradition is…well, conceited,” the snide man retorted. 

“It sounds like you just want to be in charge.” 

The man gave a girl a scowl then closed his eyes before patting both their heads, rubbing their ears affectionately. “That is all in the future, never you mind it for now. Come, let’s go find your parents and sisters and we’ll have you all Seafood Stew.”

—---- Y’zel awoke then sat up lightly, using his wrist to brush against the waters of bittersweet memory. Turning, he nuzzled under the arm of his bedfellow, sighing contently as the scent of the sea upon the rogue lulled him back into a comfortable sleep.

Y'zel flattened his ears as he shyly stood behind one of the many rock formations of the delta, trembling a bit as he looked back the way his cousin had led him, scared that they might be followed. "Y'mhitra, wait. I don't want father to get mad. I'm not supposed to come down here because of the witch..."

He shrank back a little as his cousin came around the stone pillar to take his hand. "Don't be such a coward Y'zel. You're getting big enough to know better aren't you," his elder cousin insisted.

Tucking his tail, the young miqo'te squeezed her hand and let her carry him inward towards the grotto. "But I hear she eats frogs and sends brooms after bad kids that don't do their chores!"

"Well, you're not a frog and I hope you did your chores," the elder seeker teased. "Besides, she teaches Y'shtola magic! Don't you want to see if she'll teach us something?"

Y’zel’s young mind went through his morning, making sure he left nothing undone, his cousin’s words doing little to assuage his fears of the tales told to him by adults. As they wandered forward, they suddenly felt a rush of aether followed by a loud blast accompanied by watching Y’hmitra’s big sister flying backward and landing on her butt. The teen stood, ears and tail high as she looked on. “Oh! You old hag! I’ll show you,” she called before turning to see her two family members staring wide-eyed.

“Causing problems,” Y’mhitra asked with a giggle.

“Not likely. I just wanted to learn how to create my own familiars and she scolded me for getting too big for my britches.”

“Um…well, you’re just an apprentice aren’t you…Isn’t it dangerous to call forth the elementals…” Y’zel asked timidly.

“How are you supposed to be a good husband if you’re scared of everything,” Yhmitra teased, crossing her arms as the two girls laughed, the boy turning bright red.

“I promise you it’s perfectly safe. Should I show you little Nuhn,” the eldest asked before walking ahead of the two.

“I don’t want to be a Nuhn…” he mumbled, following his cousins, hands stuffed in his pockets as he puffed out his cheeks in frustration.

Arriving at a wooden bridge, Y’shotla tossed a water crystal into the shallows and then raised her crook before her, eyes closed while the boy looked around with his other cousin. “Nothing’s happen-”

“Shh!” Y’hmitra scolded.

“From ocean rise and cloudbank form, From mountain spring and rainfall storm, From river flow and life be born, Water, Water, Froth and Foam!”

Blue light erupted from the depths before three large bubbles formed before her the burst, revealing three Nixies, “Water, Water, Froth and Foam! Time to Play,” they sang before floating around the three.

Y’zel’s and Y’hmitra’s eyes widened as they watched the creatures dance around them, Y’shotla proudly looking on. Reaching out, the young boy tried to take hold of one, in his arms, only ton find him soaked ear to toe, earning more of his cousin’s teasing. 

Soon a game of Nixie tag began, the three running away laughing as the familiars chased them about, shooting bubbles at them. They hardly noticed as the sun started to wane, the sky quickly becoming amber. Y’zel laughed as he was chased around a rock before hearing one of the floating spirits cry out. Turning around, he found a puddle in place of the spirit chasing him before catching the sight of two ruin blasts fly by and impact the Nixie, causing them to swell up and explode.

“Y’zel! To me,” a gruff voice ordered.

The boy seized up as he turned, seeing a towering white-haired miqo’te slam a book close in his palm, teal eyes narrowed. Frowning, he ran up to his father. “Father! You hurt the Ni-”

“Silence boy! You! I know you bring yourself to consort with the witch, but you will not lure my son down here again, understood,” he asked, pointing to Y’shotla. “This is far too dangerous of an area to be playing in. And to bring little Y’hmitra along with your schemes.”

Y’shotla narrowed her eyes. “With all due respect cousin, Master Matoya is a great sorceress that rivals even the great Louisoix. She very well may have the power to keep us safe from the Garleans.”

“Pah. She’s made it clear how she feels about the Forum. If you wish to consort with her, leave Y’zel out of this.”

“Daddy, please, we were just-”

“Enough.”

“Cousin Y’lem…please. I’m the one who brought him down here. Please don’t be cross,” Y’hmitra protested.

The man took in a deep breath then rubbed the bridge of his nose before looking to the girl. “Y’zel knew better to come down here. That is that. I suggest you return home with us…and you get back to your master,” he huffed, looking from the younger sibling to the elder before roughly pressing his palm behind his son’s back and ushering him towards home.

The three walked in silence, the younger two with the ears folded and tails tucked. Sighing, Y’lem shook his head. “It is dangerous down here. That witch has no interest in cooperating with The Forum and I’d bet my seat her plan to stave off the Empire is fruitless. Who knows what could have happened? Not to mention a novice in magic calling forth elementals. You’re lucky you both aren’t drowned.”

“Sorry…” the two said in unison.

The man huffed then shook his head. “Don’t be sorry, be responsible. Y’zel, you’re old enough to know better than to be led on. What kind of leader follows along with the whims of others when he knows they’re wrong?”

“A bad one…?”

Y’hmitra paused for a moment then tugged on the man’s robes. “But cousin, we are family, 

have not followed tribal law since our ancestors were recognized by Old Sharlyan as citizens.”

Y’lem let out another heavy sigh then reached down to ruffle the boy’s hair. “I believe, though members of the enlightened nation, that we should have not wholly abandoned our heritage outright. To pretend we’re above Seeker tradition is…well, conceited,” the snide man retorted.

“It sounds like you just want to be in charge.”

The man gave a girl a scowl then closed his eyes before patting both their heads, rubbing their ears affectionately. “That is all in the future, never you mind it for now. Come, let’s go find your parents and sisters and we’ll have you all Seafood Stew.”

—---- Y’zel awoke then sat up lightly, using his wrist to brush against the waters of bittersweet memory. Turning, he nuzzled under the arm of his bedfellow, sighing contently as the scent of the sea upon the rogue lulled him back into a comfortable sleep.

[despairinthedeparturelounge]

A/N: this is not a request. I'll be back on them ASAP so so so sorry for making you wait but i kinda got so distracted from writing so please accept my apologies.

This one piece is SO SAD, i just woke up and decided to make you cry with me, so be aware. And it oddly turned out shorter than i expected...

Warnings: Angst, super sad, mentions of grief, death, possible typos, let me know if i should add more.

English is not my first language

Was so inspired by this song & lyrics so here ya go.

The evening was quiet enjoyable, music peacefully humming in the background interrupted by the sound of birds flying by. A wonderful picture if it would be taken by anyone now, but all Sergio could think about was Her, her empty place in this house and by his side was bothering him beyond exception now, the way he was sure she would jump off her seat to grab the camera for capturing this moment, like every other picture she took of things she feared losing, moments that turned into memories way sooner than he imagined. Sergio pictured the woman roaming around in the garden, wearing her usual dress, barefoot. Most half of the times trying to plant something new like the rose bush she grew in the corner to be bigger than her own figure by now. Sergio took another look at the half dead flowers taking a dry petal in his hand, "This is what happens when you don't teach me gardening" he murmured caressing the roses left on the bush, "did you really leave these to me?" He chuckled shaking his head as he walked to the chair by the huge window.

"All you feared in life was losing me," he mumbled sitting low on a chair, "You even asked me 'what would i do without you?' and all the god damn thing i thought about was you!" Sergio almost shouted throwing the bottle of liquid on the ground to shatter into pieces, "now what do i do without you? You were never suppose to leave me" he kneeled on the ground right where he was sitting, drunk and frustrated trying to get an answer from her, maybe her imaginary picture he wished he could see, touch or feel one more time, once more for himself.

He had ways to scape from reality, the reality that took the love of his life from him so without a second thought he gathered himself and stood up, his wobbling legs didn't help either till a familiar sound followed with a grip on his arms helped him stay on his legs, he looked over only to see the concern face of his brother by his side, "Joder Sergio what have you done?" He said forcing the man to stay still, "nothing... i have done nothing, cause if i did she'd be here"

"Nonsense, Sergio for god's sake stop acting this way! We need you, I need you back!" He continued talking surly saying something Sergio couldn't hear, or maybe he just didn't want to.

Sergio, ignoring the hand of his brother around his arms, made his way towards the stairs, "where do you want to go now?" Andrès asked him almost annoyed by his silence, "my room" the answer was enough for him to get the lead and help his brother up the stairs thinking he finally made a sane choice after drinking a whole bottle on empty stomach, "i said My room" Sergio freed his arm from the hold of the other man and stumbled to his bedroom he shared with her, opening the door only to stand there and observe everything, picture frames on a small table by the window, her nightgown still hanging on the chair where she put it, he then just walked inside telling his brother to come in, sitting on the edge of his bed he held his head between his hands to apply the pressure needed, Andrès was still staring at the clothes, half open drawers and the ring casually resting on the table, like she just got a call and had to leave the room only to come back few minutes later, "She always took her ring off before talking a bath, it had gotten a bit loose around her finger these few passed weeks" Sergio said pointing to the ring, "She was scared she might lose it" Andrès smiled softly nodding, "you know i didn't say goodbye? I don't remember if i even told her i love her or not all because i was so fucking busy planning a heist" his voice cracked at the sudden rise, "I had everything this time, i had everything i wanted and i still craved more and more" he sobbed standing up to reach for the wall before him, "i nearly had everything, fucking everything! But the money didn't save it this time" he shouted loudly punching the wall leaving Andrès in shock, "Sergio por favor..."

"No Andrès you want me back on something that took her from me! Took my life out of my hand" he looked down at his bloody knuckles when Andrès took a step forward, "i was so busy loving her for myself that i forgot to remind it to her," his voice was calmer but filled with pain this time.

"I'm sure she knew" Andrès replied quickly, looking at his younger brother.

"Sergio amor would you please help me with this one" she slowly laughed handing the framed picture to her husband to hand it on the wall, "come on big boy this is the last one i promise!" She said patting his back for some support as he flexed his figure and raised his arms up to hang the frame, "you look so beautiful in this pic" she blushed watching him as he put both his hand on his waist to take a look at the wall, bow filled with pictures, "you actually look really good in all of these! I can't take my eyes off you"

She laughed brushing her arm against his, "One day we look at these as a reminder, for good days that passed"

"It's ok to let good things become memories amor!" He said gently cupping her face with both hands, "Stop being so afraid of good things to end, there's always memories from them, and thanks to you we capture it all!" He breathed out smiling, leaving a kiss on her rose tinted nose.

He could hear her giggles so vividly after the pepper kisses he gave her, memories she feared to lose or forget are all somehow here before him, but not her.

It's like no one expected her to become one, not this soon, "You loved her and she knew that with her whole heart, Sergio you couldn't do anything to stop the sickness." Andrès tried his best to convince his brother and maybe free him from this feeling of guilt that was eating him alive, piece by piece, he then sat by his side to treat the wound on his hand, "maybe, sometimes i think she was more prepared to lose me in any way. From a gunshot to my head or another wanted name by police,... and i wasn't! I always promised to be home when i wanted to leave, i never asked her to promise me she'll be here when i'm back" the pain in his voice, the way he tried to reason himself but was making it all worse made Andrès heart to sink, taking his trembling hand, "the night before, she was lying here, upside down on the bed" he laughed picturing her "her hair was touching the floor as she just started to play with the light coming from the window," his voice soften thinking about her, just like always.

"Would it be so clingy if i say i wrote you a letter?" She pouted out of nowhere when Sergio laid on the bed in his side of it, "and why's that?" She waited a second before answering, like she wanted to put her words together, "you'll see, you'll read it, but i just wanted to make sure it's not clingly" Sergio laughed shaking his head no, "nothing you do is clingy, i think it's actually cute." A wide smile of satisfaction appeared on her sleepy face from the new fact.

Sergio walked to the small box on the small table, carefully taking out an envelope to show Andrès, "so she did write." He whispered looking at the picture of her and the two brother hanging on the wall.

"She did, and she meant i'll read it after she's gone." How could she do this to him, leaving one more part of herself for a broken man on the edge of everything, a piece she made for the time he would have nothing to clutch for his life.

Andrès didn't wanted to hurt his tainted heart more, thought he can't take it to read the letter, "What- what did she wrote?" He cleared his voice still looking at the envelope in Sergio's hand,

Sergio's eyes though was fixed on another thing now, he got easily distracted wondering if the room is still same as the time she left it or not, everything was pictured in his head, right places of everything, every corner and every part, he wanted the to remain the same, for a long as he forget the imagine he has, the memory of the Lost Good Moment, but this time for good.

The phone rang, catching both men attentions when Sergio stood up quickly, "i'd better answer that" he simply said leaving the heavy aired room to Andrès and an opened envelop yearning to be seen once more:

To the love of my life,

I want you to know that it doesn't matter

Where we take this road, but i had to go

And I want you to know, you couldn't have loved me better

But I want you to move on,

Remember all the things we wanted

Now all our memories, within the walls

Looking at you makes it harder

But I know that you'll be okay

That doesn't always make you wanna cry

And now I'm glad I didn't know

The way it all would end, the way it all would go

Our lives are better left to chance and

You know that I love you so

I love you enough to let you go.

-Your Y/N

Andrès folded the letter back into the envelop, he thought it's safe to leave it be, perhaps for a little more time, "you left a lot undone deary but.." he breathed out kissing the edge of her envelop "I'll take good care of him Y/n," he smiled looking at the room one more time before leaving.

[yeouls]

SYNOPSIS | an innocent virgins late night craving for her boyfriends cock <33

CONTENT | blowjob, a whole lotta praise, shy reader.

WORD COUNT | 2.1k

it was on impulse. you hadn’t taken full aware of your actions until you found yourself sitting in the living room of your boyfriends apartment at two in the morning. a droopy eyed jean was certainly shocked by your presence.

“are you gonna tell me why you’re here so late, babe?” he yawned as he pulled you closer to him on the couch. his sleepy voice filled your stomach with a warm sensation. his scruff pricked your neck in a tickle as he drowsily buried his head into your neck.

“i…um…i wanted to try something.”

you were nervous to tell him the real reason for your presence so late at night.

“it couldn’t wait till tomorrow?” he asks as he peppers soft kisses into your neck.

although the two of you had been a couple for the past six months you never tried anything. it was always kisses and hugs that were nothing but innocent. jean had been well aware of your chastity and insisted on taking things slow. but the continuous whispers of wanting to take a step forward were persistent in your thoughts.

“are you going to laugh at me if i tell you?” you question as you fiddle with your fingers in your lap.

“i don’t know where this is coming from but i would never. you’re my pretty girl, aren’t you?” he reassures, softly grabbing your jaw making you look him in the eye. his words seemed sincere but the lingering fear of him laughing at your foolishness was an inevitable emotion.

“can i show you instead?”

his face merges into that of a confused man. his eyes were less fogged with sleep and more fogged with intrigue. your mysterious request had taken him by interest.

he pulls you closer by your jaw before placing a soft kiss to your lips. “if that makes you feel better, go for it.”

you nervously chew on your bottom lip as you slip away from his grip.

“um…can you close your eyes?” you request as you avoid meeting his curious gaze.

“you’re beginning to scare me but if you insist,” he amusingly chuckles as he obliges to your request. with his arms splayed against the top of the couch and his legs slightly apart you were at an advantage.

with knees weak from nervousness you manage to slide from the couch onto the icy, wooden floor. the moment your hands traced up and down his built thighs, jean had opened his eyes in shock. after all, his innocent girlfriend was on her knees in between his legs with a look of desire spilling from her eyes.

“baby, what are you doing?”

his voice was breathy from shock as your hand trailed up his leg.

“i wanna touch it.”

you finally managed to bring yourself to say it. his reaction was not one you had expected. he didn’t laugh nor yell. he grabs ahold of your wrist as he pulls up onto your feet and settles you in his lap.

“who taught you that, princess? you don’t have to feel forced to do things like that just because we are dating,” he says with a voice laced in worry and concern.

“no one, i didn’t get to do anything nice for you on your birthday,” you explain to him as you fiddle with your thumbs. you can’t bring yourself to look him in the eye because of embarrassment from the stunt you pulled. what were you expecting?

“i don’t want you to do anything you might not like,” he whispers as he cups your cheeks to grant you comfort.

“but i want to make you feel good,” you murmur as you finally bring yourself to look into his eyes.

“you can’t force yourself to do something you don’t know how to do, baby,” he sighs from frustration.

the truth was that he held himself back with every nerve in his body to try and not take you right there on the couch. your pouty lips and lust driven eyes were hard to resist.

although he protested the action, his dick was growing harder by the second and you could feel it.

“can you teach me? i wanna learn how to make you feel good.”

“will you promise that you’ll stop whenever you feel like it and not force yourself?”

a smile appears on your face from his statement.

“yes, i promise.”

“if you want to stop, you have to tell me,” he reiterates as he softly brushes your cheek.

“i understand,” you reassure as you pull him into a kiss. his worrisome nature when it came to you showed you that he truly cared.

“get on your knees,” he orders against your lips. you eagerly comply as you once again place yourself between his thighs. your stunt on him early truly did a number seeing how there was a large tent in his pants.

the sight of the bulge in his sweats was enough to make your heart pound against your ribs. you hadn’t even pulled his pants down and you could see how big he is.

your eyes momentarily flick up to look at him only to see that his hazel eyes had gone dark with a fervid lust. you bring your attention back to the excitement between his legs. your hands begin to caress his thighs and inch up towards his groin.

“fuck, baby,” he hisses as you massage his hardness through the thin layer of material. you weren’t aware that such a light touch could bring him pleasure. you can only imagine how much sexual frustration he has built up in the past half year.

your hands eagerly make their way towards the band of his sweats. your action comes to a halt as jean quickly grabs a hold of your wrist. “let’s move to the bed, your knees will hurt here.”

you really didn’t have a preference as long as you were able to please him. you nod your head in agreement as he guides you with him by your wrist. if anything, you take more of a liking to the cushioning of his bed than to the cold, hard wood floor. you enjoy how his calming scent enveloped the sheets.

while you favored the comfort of the bed, jean propped himself up against the headboard. you waste no time as you impatiently take your position between his thighs. he couldn’t help but chuckle at your excitement. if he knew that you were this eager to try such things, he would’ve definitely brought it up earlier.

he rasps at the cool air as you tug down his sweats. you can’t bring yourself to move from shock at his size. his cock was long and thick with a flush red shade.

his hand cups your cheek as he guides you to his eyes. “don’t worry, baby. we won’t do anything that you’re not ready for, okay?”

you nod as you gulp before reaching out to his cock. it feels hot to touch under your cold finger tips. you could hear him grunt from the soft contact. you grip it as if it were some precious gold. you hold it familiarizing yourself with the ridges of skin and pulsing veins that inched up the sides.

you had come all this way but you didn’t know what to do with it. you blankly stare at your grip on his dick and than back at jean looking for some guidance.

“hold it a bit tighter, princess. you’re not going to hurt me,” he explains as you oblige by his order. “and than you move it like this.”

his large, callous hand grips over yours as he begins to pump a slow pace. he leads your hand up and down along the flushed skin. you are in awe of how clear beadings of liquid drool from the tip creating a glistening layer on the red skin.

“it keeps getting bigger,” you whisper in a shy tone. you were the one who started all this but you couldn’t help feeling shy in such an intense moment.

“that’s because you’re making me feel so good,” he rasps as he lets you take lead of the pace. he uses both his hands to cup your cheeks and pull you into a kiss as you continue pump him at a quicker pace in your hand.

“fuck, you’re such a good girl,” he groans against your lips. the new pet name causes heated flutters in your warm cunt, you liked it. a foreign feeling of wet pleasure pools in between your legs. you can’t help but squirm in attempt to relief yourself.

you fall back from the intense kiss with a low whimper.

you experimentally rub over the swell tip of his dick. his cock gently twitches at the teasing touch. he now stood fully erect in the confides of your hand.

“good god,” he grunts under his breath as you lean forward and place a kiss on his blushing tip while you continue to pump him in your hand.

“can i put it in my mouth?” you ask with half-lidded eyes. how could he say no when your puffy lips were centimeters away from his dick?

“don’t force yourself to take it all, okay?”

you nod your head in compliance as he pushes your hair out of your face. he softly grips your chin pulling you towards his cock. “spit on it for me, baby.”

you listen as you collect the warm liquid in your mouth letting the string fall to the slit of his tip. “a little more for me, princess.”

you spit again coating the head of his dick in the clear substance. “just like that.”

you keep rubbing your thighs together in anticipation trying to gain a sense of pleasure. the sight of his dick was enough to have you dripping. all you wanted to do was see how it would fill you. how you would be a fragile, crying mess under him.

you can’t even wait for him to give you an order and impatiently run your tongue up the base of his cock. you were eager to feel him pulsing in your mouth—eager to taste him. the salty flavor of him fills your mouth. it wasn’t unpleasant, you were in fact delighted with the addicting taste. you tasted the tangy pre-cum leaking from his tip with excitement.

you take your time letting your tongue tease at the sensitive ridge under his tip before softly sucking on his tip.

“fuck, watch your teeth,” he hisses as he pulls you away for a second. you were afraid that you had hurt him.

“you’re doing great but try and use your tongue and not your teeth, okay baby?”

“okay,” you murmur before pressing your lips to his dick again. you take as much of him as you can before sucking—this time without your teeth in the way. you hollow your cheeks and begin to move up and down against his hard cock. you feel encouraged by his breathy moans.

through your thick lashes you begin to observe the contours of pleasure on his face. he had gone pink all the way to the tip of his ears. you can see the rises and falls of his chest as low grunts and praises peered from his lips. his brows knit together as his plump lips were slightly open allowing mumbles of words to pass through.

you push his dick deeper into your throat as you attempt to take more of him into your mouth. your soft gags and lewd slurps on his skin fill the room. your eyes brink in tears as drippings of saliva drool from your mouth.

“god, you’re doing so good, my pretty girl. so fucking good,” he coos as you administer a slightly quicker pace. he gently bucks up into your throat as you feel him twitch against your tongue.

the warm drops of a bitter liquid hit the roof of your mouth before coating your tongue.

“i know it doesn’t taste good, baby. spit it out, don’t force yourself, hm?” he practically begs as one hand grips your cheeks and the other props under your chin.

you try to swallow but you couldn’t bring yourself to let it past your throat. it was thick and strange in consistency and didn’t taste all that good.

you open your mouth allowing the substance to fill his palm. “there you go, good girl.”

he leans over pulling tissues from the box on the nightstand before wiping his palm.

“did i do good?” you ask as you shyly play with your thumbs.

“you did amazing, baby,” he praises as he flips you to lay underneath him. his fingers linger along the band of your leggings as he pulls them down in a swift motion.

“and now it’s my turn to return the favor and make you feel good, isn’t it?”

[furiousgoldfish]

I was wondering if it's normal to not be able to feel angry after abuse? Like, I can look at things I've experienced and know I should be angry but I just can't FEEL angry, if that makes sense.

Yeah, inability to get angry is something a lot of child abuse survivors struggle with.

It means your anger was taken away.

When abusers traumatize you very deeply, and you're a child, they often make sure you feel completely helpless, unable to retaliate, and they hurt you even worse if you show any anger, to teach you that you don't have the right to get angry at them, only they wield the right of anger. When you're continually suffering punishments for showing anger as a kid, your body will learn that it is unsafe, forbidden, and instead of getting angry, you'll feel pain, anxiety, fear, self hatred, guilt and shame. Because anger builds up and turns inwards when you're not allowed to express it, and the only thing you're allowed to feel is anger with yourself, hatred towards yourself, and pain.

After living like this for a while, your body will forget how to process anger alltogether; you might just feel blank and like nothing is there, or it will feel like a buildup of frustration you have no way to process or express, it will drive you insane, and you will avoid feeling frustrated or angry because your body just can't take it.

It's possible it's still unsafe for you to feel or express anger, or it's possible your instincts and your body are against reaching or processing it, it's likely very very repressed. Once you do get to it, it might be very painful and explosive and almost too much to handle, but it's worth dealing with it, and learning how to process it. I learned that anger makes me feel powerful because nobody can confuse or erase my narrative, it's also effective way to end self hatred, guilt, shame, anxiety and blame. Which is exactly why abusers don't allow it, they prefer you to feel helpless, guilty, ashamed, scared, and ready to accept their narrative about who you are and what you deserve.

Once you re-learn anger, it feels good, and it's very healthy, so I recommend it! A lot of people had success of standing in front of a punching bag until their body realizes it's a chance to express some anger and goes at it. I hope you can find a way to your anger again, because it's a confirmation that you matter, and anything that hurts you is worth getting angry about.

[helpimhyperfixating]

Photos and Crushes - Cowboy AU Jotaro x Reader P1

Look, I’ve been playing some Red Dead Redemption 2 again and I just got this idea. Sooo, rooty-tooty-guns-n-shootie, takes place in 1887 ish, America.

Part 2  |  Part 3

Word Count: 7704

You are a kindhearted, positive, gentle person. Despite the harsh reality you live in, you try to see the good in people, even if it sometimes might not be there.

It has gotten you into plenty of trouble before but, it has gotten you so much more positivity as well.

Jotaro was one of those positive points. Angry, aggressive and dangerous in the eyes of others, you were one of the few who didn’t judge him for how he looked and carried himself. And thus, a miraculous friendship was born.

Whenever you would hang out together, people would always be wary of the strange duo, more so for your safety than what you would be up to. But you never paid them any mind. If they wanted to judge Jotaro, that was fine, but you wouldn’t let it ruin the time you had with him.

Jotaro, of course, noticed all the stares and whispers, but he didn’t give a shit.

When he had met you two years ago, you were being cornered by a couple of guys who had taken advantage of your kindness, pretending to ask if you could lead them to the general store, only to drag you into a secluded alleyway.

It just so happened that Jotaro had been across the street, seeing you happily chatting about the town to the boys, oblivious to the malicious glint in their eyes.

At first he didn’t want to get involved. He had seen you around before but never talked to you and if you were dumb enough to not see their true motive, why should he involve himself? But then you looked around and crossed eyes with him, and instead of instant swooning or darting your eyes away and cowering in fear, you sent him a polite smile and a wave, since you recognised him from around town. It surprised him, seeing you act so casually and greet him like a person.

Gritting his teeth, Jotaro looked down at his feet for a second, grabbing the bill of his hat in frustration, only to abruptly let it go and stand up, discreetly starting to follow you and the boys.

Not a few minutes later and the boys executed their plan, pulling you into an abandoned alley, much to your surprise. They didn’t get even twenty seconds before Jotaro slinked up behind them. Just the image and threat of the imposing nineteen year old was enough to get the boys to scamper off with their tails between their legs.

Upon being saved, you practically dragged Jotaro along, insisting on paying him a drink as thanks and from there on, the two of you hit it off.

Ever since then, you two regularly hung out. And Jotaro had taken it upon himself to become your self-appointed bodyguard.

Right now he was headed to the church.

The town you two lived in was of moderate size and, since there were so many people in one place, a small church was built there. But Jotaro wasn’t going to the church so he could pray to God, no, he was going because you were there.

He knew you had started teaching kids how to read. Most of them were homeless, piss-poor or sticky-fingered little brats, but you taught them all the same.

Jotaro had once pointed it out and asked if you knew what those kids were actually up to every day. You had answered with a shrug, saying it didn’t matter and that you just wanted to help them. Jotaro had just grumbled at that and pulled his hat down. It didn’t matter to him, as long as they kept their grubby hands off of your belongings and didn’t harm you.

He rounded a corner and the church finally came into view further down the dirt-path. For a second, Jotaro reconsidered whether he wanted to visit you or not. He had nothing to do and wanted to share in your company, but he also knew that if you weren’t done teaching yet, you would not go with him until you were; which would mean Jotaro either had to leave with his tail between his legs in front of a bunch of brats, or he had to sit down and endure their incessant squabbling.

Shaking his head, he just decided to go for it. Regrettably enough, Jotaro just really wanted to see you right now. Recently, a gang of thieves and murderers had swept through town and pretty much everyone had been holed up inside, making him unable to see or spend time with you.

Finally reaching the church, he looked past the gates to see you sitting on the steps, about eight kids with you, of which five were sitting around you, while the other three were fooling around on the small grass churchyard that sat in front of the steps.

God, you were beautiful. Jotaro could immediately tell some of these kids were violent, thieves and just straight nasty, yet you talked with them as if they were your own.

Your own.

Jesus, how his stomach twisted at the thought. You both were 21 now and Jotaro knew he should be looking to the future. If there was someone he wanted to be with, it was you. And just the thought of you, your belly swollen with his child? It shook him to the core.

As he reached the gate, he must have stared at you for a little too long because as soon as he had put two steps inside, the three boys that were kicking around on the grass stopped in front of him, seeming to be between the ages of eleven to thirteen.

“Whoa there, mister! What do you think you’re doing?” The dirty blond to his right said and Jotaro looked down at the boys, raising an eyebrow at them for stopping him. “We don’t like that look in your eyes.” The boy continued.

“Yeah, need we remind you you are on church grounds?”

“What were you staring at Miss Y/N for, mister? What do you want with her?” The third kid spoke up and Jotaro was now annoyed, feeling ticked off at their questioning.

“That’s my business, now get out of my way.” He glared, but though he could see he scared them, they held their ground.

“No! We are not letting you hurt her!”

“You wanna fight for it? Let’s go then!” The one right in front put his fists up.

“Yare yare daze, just move, kid.” Jotaro sighed, tilting his hat over his eyes to stay calm.

“Now you’ve done it! Haaa-!” The blond yelled out, punching Jotaro in the stomach, but the man didn’t even flinch. The kid’s eyes went big.

He looked to his friends for help and they got the hint, all three of them now rearing up for an attack as they each shouted a battle cry, going to throw punches while Jotaro grit his teeth in annoyance. As much as he despised these little shits, he couldn’t punch them, and so he just decided to let them vent and then move on.

Someone else however, heard the screaming. “Hey! What’s going o-! Oh! Hey, Jotaro!”

Your sudden happy greeting stopped the boys in their tracks and two of them stumbled as they made their punches go wide to miss the intimidating man.

Jotaro put his hand up in greeting and you beamed a smile, much to the confusion of the kids. You excused yourself from the five around you and walked over.

“So, what’s going on here?” You asked sweetly, yet there was a warning undertone in your voice.

“N-Nothing!” The blond squeaked, holding a not so convincing smile, his face screaming ‘guilty’.

“Good grief, I told you they were brats.” Jotaro once again lowered his hat over his eyes, feeling a kick to his shin that made him glare at the boy beside him, instantly making him run off in fear, the other two following not a second later.

“Oi, don’t be mean to my kids.” You scolded him, rapping your knuckles on the top of his head.

“They’re not your kids.” Jotaro deadpanned and you sputtered a bit.

“Yeah, well, not technically no, but-“

“That little shit stole from me two weeks ago.” He pointed to the auburn haired boy that had been standing to his left earlier.

“He did? What did he steal?” You questioned, your brows furrowing.

“Pack of cigarettes and my lighter. That shit ain’t cheap you know.” He grumbled as he stuffed his hands in his pockets.

“Oi, stop swearing every other sentence. You’re on church grounds.” You lightly smacked him on the chest while Jotaro just gave you a look that said ‘does it look like I care?’. “So... why are you here?” You then asked, diverting the subject.

“Just came by to see you.” Jotaro shrugged.

“Aw, how sweet.” You teased a little but a small blush did make its way onto your cheeks, making Jotaro’s heart skip a beat. Could that mean you...? No, he shouldn’t jump to conclusions. “Why don’t you come sit down?” You suddenly asked and Jotaro looked down at you.

“No, I don’t-“

“Too bad, too late!” You grinned as you grabbed his hand out of his pocket and dragged him back to the stairs with you, not even giving him any time to protest. “Everyone, this is Jotaro! Jotaro, this is everyone.” You smiled as you introduced him to the terrified kids on the stairs.

A small girl then slowly stepped forward, her hair almost white-blonde and braided in two braids down the sides of her head.

She looked up at Jotaro with big eyes, the man staring back, before smiling wide, holding her arms up at him and making grabby hands. “Uh.” Jotaro hesitantly looked at you while you just held the biggest smile.

“That’s Amelia, she’s seven years old and mute.” You explained before urging Jotaro with your eyes to do as she asked and pick her up.

Sighing, he leaned down and grabbed the girl under her armpits, easily lifting her up into his arms and looping an arm under her to hold her. Amelia immediately wrapped her tiny arms around his neck, smiling brightly as she looked into his eyes.

Jotaro averted his gaze from the girl in his arms, over to you, to see you nearly melting on the spot. He rolled his eyes in response to you freaking out. “Happy?” He grumbled out and you just nodded vehemently.

A tugging broke Jotaro from watching you and he looked down behind him to see a little boy tugging on his pants, pointing up at him.

“You want to go up too?” You questioned and the boy nodded enthusiastically, shouting out a ‘yeah!’.

“Wait, Y/N-“ Before he could do anything about it, you had lifted the boy and placed him on Jotaro’s back, letting him cling by himself since Jotaro was using both hands to hold the girl.

You couldn’t help but laugh at the disgruntled look on Jotaro’s face as the boy giggled loudly, clinging tightly on his back.

The other children were suddenly a lot less terrified, as two others stood up and started tugging on his pants as well. It was clear that the younger kids had stayed around you as you taught the lesson, while the older three had drifted a bit away. This meant however, that Jotaro was now surrounded by small kids, two of them on top of him.

“I’m not a horse you know.” He grumbled, looking at the two hanging on his pants a little warily, watching where they put their hands.

“You’re not, but you’re just as tall, if not taller, and a lot less dangerous.” You grinned, earning a glare from the man though you knew there was no real hostility in it.

Just then, the doors to the church opened and a nun came walking out. “Ah, miss L/N! How goes the reading?” She questioned and you turned your gaze from watching Jotaro, to the nun.

“Ah! It’s going fine, thank you! And thank you again for letting me use this space.” You smiled sweetly.

“Of course, our doors are open for you anytime.” The nun smiled back before turning to see the remarkable sight of Jotaro, surrounded by kids, holding a small girl while another child clung to his back. “Mr. Kujo.” She smiled, pleasantly surprised.

“Hello, Sister.” Jotaro greeted back. He may be a hardass, but he at least had respect for those who deserved it, unlike a lot of other people.

“It is good to see you again. Coming to visit Y/N I see?” She smiled and Jotaro dipped his head a little in response, both as a way to answer yet also as a way to hide his eyes from the Sister, for he knew she could look through him as though he was shouting out his thoughts and emotions. “Well, no matter.” The nun smiled slyly to herself, seeing through the action. “Who here is hungry?” She then spoke out a little louder and almost every tiny head perked up.

You giggled at the sight and swiftly moved to behind Jotaro, grabbing onto the boy hanging there and lifting him down from his back while Jotaro himself carefully sat the girl down. In a matter of seconds, all of the kids were lined up in a row and quickly started following the nun into the church, the doors closing behind them and leaving you and Jotaro on the steps.

“Whoo, they are always a lively bunch.” You chuckled, turning a little to face Jotaro before walking up to the stairs and sitting down on them, grabbing the book you had been working on with them, as well as the notebook and pencil.

“What book were you reading?” Jotaro asked, sitting down next to you. You took notice of how close he sat though, his arm touching yours as you sat side by side.

“King Arthur and the knights of the round table.” You said it in a fancy manner and held the book up for him as he took it from your hands.

“Knights? Really?” He scoffed as he briefly leafed through the pages and you playfully bumped your shoulder into his.

“Hey! It’s good for their imagination.” You chuckled. “Besides, it needs to be engaging for them. Lord knows I can’t try to teach them to read with the kinds of books you read. ‘How wagons are assembled’ or ‘how nature works’. Oh! Oh! ‘How a steam train or steam boat functions’.” You giggled a little as you poked fun at him, lowering your voice near the end to match his as best you could as you spoke.

“That’s not what I sound like.” Jotaro rolled his eyes, but the corner of his mouth quirked up.

“Sure you don’t, tough boy.” You leaned forward until you could look at him from under the brim of his hat, now hovering over his lap as you cocked your head with a smirk. “I have heard you rant about inventions and discoveries made more than anyone else, I’m pretty sure.”

Jotaro just scoffed and looked to the side, unable to hide his slightly embarrassed blush since you were right below him. Oh god, you were right below him, your face so close to his. He only needed to lean down a little and- Clearing his throat, Jotaro leaned back a bit, giving himself some space and prompting you to sit up again, none the wiser from what was going through his head.

“Hey, did you know they were setting up a new shop last week? Apparently you can get your picture taken there.” You suddenly started, looking forward through the churchyard as you mused.

“Oh?” Jotaro spoke, trying to sound disinterested yet listening intently.

“Would you... perhaps want to take a picture with me there?” You hesitantly asked and Jotaro’s heart skipped a beat though he didn’t show it. “I always wanted to see what I would look like on one of those.”

“Not very different from what you look like when you look in a mirror.” Jotaro cringed at how roughly that came out but he had said it before he could stop himself. He just hoped it didn’t dissuade you from wanting to take a picture with him.

“Say, are you insulting me, Mr. Kujo?” You teased lightheartedly, nudging him again and a tiny relieved smile played on Jotaro’s lips.

“I wouldn’t dream of ever insulting you.”

“Alright, now I know you’re just taking a piss.” You laughed. “Either way, what do you say we-!” You suddenly stopped your excited exclamation, catching Jotaro’s attention. “Oh wait, it’d probably cost a lot huh? Shoot, never mind, we can go do something else...” You deflated but quickly shook it off, perking up in feigned happiness again. “Do you have anything in mind!?”

Jotaro however, studied your face close. He hated to see how your excitement got washed away so quickly. “Yare yare.” Standing up from the stairs, he held his right hand out to you.

“Oh, you’ve got something?” You asked, seemingly back to your happy self as you put your hand in his and allowed him to pull you up.

“Let’s go get that picture taken.”

Your face turned into shock as he said that. “Wait, really? But I just said- I- you- You mean you’ll pay?”

“As long as I can be in it as well, yes.” Jotaro gently tugged your hand, still holding onto it as he now used it to coax you along. “Let’s go then, we don’t know when it closes and it is getting late.”

Jotaro started walking, very consciously keeping hold of your hand. As you fell into step with him, excitedly buzzing, he made a bold move as he re-gripped your hand to fit more comfortably in his; as if you were intentionally holding hands from the beginning instead of just still awkwardly holding on after Jotaro pulled you to your feet.

You didn’t seem any wiser while Jotaro felt his heart pounding in his throat, relishing in how his hand fit around yours, your hand unconsciously still holding onto his. He was so tempted to rub his thumb over the back of your palm or to actually entwine his fingers with yours, but decided against it since that would definitely draw your attention to your hands and he didn’t want that. Right now, he would just hold on, silently musing to himself how small your hand was compared to his and how right it felt to have your hand sat in his.

In this moment, it was one of the few times Jotaro was actually glad for your obliviousness.

It didn’t take long for the two of you to reach the photography shop and you both stood in front of the door, slogans and examples of pictures slapped everywhere to lure people in.

‘Get your photo taken with your loved one and display the memory, so you may never forget!’

That and more was plastered on the display window, yet Jotaro couldn’t take his eyes off of that particular one. ‘With your loved one’. His attention automatically reverted back to how you were still holding hands and he had to try everything in his power to keep his face from heating up.

“Let’s go in!” You jumped once, breaking him out of his focus as you started dragging him to the door, opening it not a second later, the tall male in tow.

“Good afternoon, how can I help the lovely couple tonight?” A man standing in front of a camera asked when he saw you two come in, hand in hand.

“Oh, uh. We’re, uh.” Your face burst into flame as he commented that, your eyes drifted up to Jotaro and then to your entwined hands, realising you were still holding onto him.

You quickly made a move to let him go but Jotaro kept holding on, preventing you from pulling away as he squeezed your hand a little tighter.

“We’re here to get a picture taken, old man. What else.” He snapped a little and you sighed good-naturedly. Good ol’ Jotaro: intimidating people and being scary upon meeting them for the first time.

“Oh, haha, of course.” The owner chuckled nervously, though you swore you could hear him mutter a ‘I’m not that old’ as he turned to check his camera. “Uhm, you can just take your place in front of the background there.” He then smiled, motioning to the wall the camera was set up in front of.

The ‘background’ was a painting of an open plain, a rock formation with a modest waterfall in the back, as well as an eagle in the right hand corner.

Your jittery yet excited nerves for doing this came back, making you forget the flustering comment of the shop owner and you started walking towards the wall.

“Hope it’s gonna turn out alright.” You grinned up at Jotaro and he sent you a rare reassuring smile. It was small, but it was there, and suddenly, you were completely calm and ready to get this photo taken. The two of you took your place, Jotaro standing right up against you, making you blush.

“Alright.” The owner nervously rubbed his hands together, obviously still a bit scared of the nearly two meter tall man in black. “Ah, you are already in the perfect positions, you are naturals at this.” He tried to crack a joke but it came out a little awkward and he cleared his throat. “Look here please.” The man pointed at a spot right above the camera before ducking behind the device.

And just like that, the photos were taken.

After this entire time, Jotaro relinquished his hold on your hand, figuring it was best to let go, lest he was too obvious and even you would notice. Hell you, probably already did but thought nothing of it. Your obliviousness shining through again.

In the end, the two of you picked out the two best ones, nearly identical, and took one each.

That night, as Jotaro walked back home, he admired the photograph in his hand. He didn’t care much for how he looked in it, but it was the exact opposite with you. You looked so happy in it. Your smile shining bright and your energy nearly radiating off of it even through the photo. Yet what Jotaro treasured more than all in it, was the way your hands were entwined in the photo. Right in the middle, screaming for him to look at it. And look he did, feeling his cheeks heat up a little.

Opening the door to his home, he was immediately bombarded as his mother latched to him, wrapping her arms around his torso.

“Jotaro, you’re home!” She cheered happily. “You missed dinner so I put some to the side for you.” She smiled and Jotaro just huffed a little, pushing her off of himself. He wasn’t even hungry, he just wanted to go to bed.

That wish was short-lived however, as someone suddenly tackled him from behind, making him face plant into the floor.

“Jotaro! My boy!” The oh-so familiar voice of his grandfather sounded.

Question marks went off in the younger man’s head. His mother hadn’t told him the old man was coming for a visit?

“Get off.” Jotaro grunted as he attempted to shake his grandpa off but it was futile, as Joseph instead put him into a deadlock, pulling his arm behind his back and trapping it there, which made his eyes widen. The fucking photograph was in that hand and if that old man got even a single crinkle or fold in it, he would have his head.

“Good evening, Jotaro.” A familiar accented voice spoke and Jotaro looked up from under his hat to see Caesar sitting in the arm chair facing him, giving a disappointed look at Joseph.

“Caesar.” Jotaro grunted back a greeting as Joseph found that exact moment to twist his arm a little further.

“Oh, what’s this?” The voice on top suddenly curiously spoke and Jotaro felt the photograph be swiped from his fingers, making his eyes widen.

His grandfather was an expert at pinning people down thanks to years of random fights and being friends with Caesar. Yet you should never underestimate a desperate man trying to keep his dignity who also has a temper to match.

Thanks to Joseph using one hand to look at the paper in his hand, he had lost his hold on Jotaro’s right arm and the young man took full use of it.

Pushing himself up a bit, he threw the older man off of himself and turned around to swipe the photo back, but Joseph was way quicker and had used the momentum to get to his feet and run over to Caesar, standing behind his chair as he turned the paper around, feasting his eyes on the photo again.

“What’s this, Jotaro? Who’s that with you?” He asked in disbelief and Jotaro clenched his jaw. His mother, upon hearing her father say the sentence, zipped over and curiously looked at the photo as well, gasping a little once she saw it, before looking up at her son and sending him a giant grin.

Jotaro pulled his hat down a little and stomped over, attempting to swipe at the photo. “Give it back.” He growled as he tried to grab it, but Joseph moved it out of his reach.

“No way! You have some explaining to do, I mean, you’re smiling in this!”

“I’m not.” Jotaro grumbled, once again lunging forward to get it back, but Joseph tittered away, way too giddy and happy about what he was finding out about his grandson.

“Yes you are! Look! It’s small, but it’s there!” He turned the photo around and pointed at Jotaro’s face in it. Holly took a closer look and her proud grin grew even more.

“Would you stop, old man? It’s nothing, so just give it back.” Jotaro once again walked across the room to try and reach his grandfather, but Joseph danced out of his grasp once more, skipping over to Caesar who had stayed seated in this entire ordeal and showing the photo to his lifelong friend.

“Look Caesar! You see it too right?”

Caesar, who had had his eyes closed, opened them and slowly looked up at Joseph, grasping the photo with his left hand before harshly grasping his friend’s wrist, prying his hand away from the photo before getting out of the chair and moving over to the younger man.

“Here you go.” He spoke as he returned the photo.

“Thanks.” Jotaro spoke, a little unsure of what to say.

“Tell her how you feel soon. Don’t let it slip through your fingers.” Jotaro blinked a few times, feeling his face heat up a little as the Italian man gave the advice, speaking loud enough for only him to hear it. With a soft tug, he pulled down the brim of his hat over his eyes and nodded, quickly making his way out of the room so he could finally just go to bed.

As he walked through the hall, he heard his grandpa’s despairing cries, questioning Caesar why he would do that, and a small smirk appeared on Jotaro’s face. He could always trust in Caesar.

- - - -

Two weeks had passed and Jotaro was sitting on the steps of the church. To his left, he heard your gentle and caring voice reading passages of the book to the kids around. To his right, the little girl, Amelia, was practically glued to his hip as he read his own book, just silently sitting through your class.

He had been doing this more and more frequently, just coming by every once in a while, not really saying anything and just sitting with you as you taught the kids.

As he turned the page of his book, he suddenly felt something being lifted from his front pocket however and he snapped his head up, looking to his left to see the dirty blond, who he now knew as Jack, lifting his pocket watch from its place. The boy immediately noticed he was found out and bolted, laughing as he ran across the grass to the fences on the other side.

Jotaro however, was pissed as he slammed his book shut and walked over to Jack with large strides. “Give it back.” He spoke lowly, a threatening glare directed at the boy.

Jotaro physically saw him gulp, smirking a little to himself to see he still had his intimidating presence with these kids. But it was short lived, since Jack seemingly found a bit of courage again - continuing on with the plan, unknown to Jotaro.

“Why? I’m sure you can buy another one. Unless... this one is special?” Jotaro narrowed his eyes dangerously and Jack could feel his heart hammering in his chest. He clicked open the watch and there was a triumphant glint in his eyes. “Aha.” He spoke and smirked up at Jotaro, only for that smirk to leave as he saw the dangerous aura radiating off of the man. “Tommy!” He yelled and threw the pocket watch, making Jotaro’s heart sink for a moment, scared it would drop on the stone steps and break.

“You little shit.” He glared at Jack before turning around to Tommy, who was standing on the steps of the church.

“Hey, what’s going on!” You called out, looking up from your book while the children around were trying to write letters in your notebook.

Tommy immediately took this chance and rushed over to you when Jotaro started taking threatening strides towards the boy. He didn’t want to hit a kid but so help him god, he would get that pocket watch back. Jotaro wasn’t fast enough however, as Tommy zipped over to you and flipped the pocket watch open, shoving it in your face.

Jotaro faltered in his steps, nervous sweat rolling down the side of his face. Those little brats had planned this all out. They knew. Jotaro hated to say it, but he had made it too obvious that he was sweet on you and they knew.

“Jotaro!” Your exclamation of surprise ripped him from his thoughts and he looked over at you, doing his best to keep an expression of indifference. “How did you manage to do this? I had to make a bigger frame to fit mine!” You turned the pocket watch around so he could see the inside, showing the clock on the right while on the left, on the inside of the cover, he now had a perfect view of the photograph of the two of you that he had stuck in there.

Jack and Tommy groaned while Jotaro’s shoulders slumped a bit. In both relief, as well as disappointment for some reason, seeing you were none the wiser.

Jotaro just waved his hand a bit, dismissing your question as he walked over and took the pocket watch back from you. Looking it over to see if it was damaged but luckily, it wasn’t. Concluding that, he flipped it shut and put it back in the pocket where it belonged.

“Well?” You looked up at him with hopeful and curious eyes and Jotaro pulled his hat down over his face. You looked... cute.

Jotaro didn’t lift his hat as he took his spot next to you again. “I went back and had a photograph taken of the photograph.” He said through gritted teeth, reluctantly telling you how he did it, embarrassment flooding through him over having to admit that.

“Oh, that’s so clever! I should do something like that as well.” You giggled, then dreamingly looked forward.

You were pulled out of it by a small tug on your sleeve. “Miss Y/N, can we have a break?” The small boy asked and you smiled sweetly, nodding.

“Of course, you go ahead and play for a bit.” You shoo’ed all the kids and they erupted into talk and laughter, all of them getting up and finding a place to play.

As the kids were running around a bit during the break, a shadow got cast over a specific pair of boys, making them freeze and slowly turn around to the imposing figure. “Tommy. Jack. Any of you touch my shit ever again and I will make you severely regret it.” The threat and danger in Jotaro’s voice was real and the boys swallowed heavily, nodding frantically before busting out into a sprint, running away as far as possible before squeaking as Jotaro made his way back over to them, since they had ran towards where you sat on the steps and that was where Jotaro wanted to sit down again as well.

“Did you have to scare them like that?” You questioned with a chuckle and Jotaro just huffed in amusement as he sat down.

“Yes. They need to know not to take my stuff.”

“You know, you’re right. That is a good lesson to learn.” You chuckled, only for your smile to slowly dim down as your attention got taken by several pairs of horse hooves thumping across the ground. “What’s that?” You questioned as you looked at the large group of riders, watching them trot closer and closer, slowing down the closer they got to the church. All of them carried rather large guns and other weapons.

You nervously looked up at Jotaro, who had his eyes narrowed as he looked at the large group as well. “Stay alert.” He spoke quietly and you nodded, the both of you getting up.

Jotaro whistled loud and curtly, gaining the attention of all the kids. You quickly motioned your arms for all of them to come, not wanting to verbally shout it just in case the riders would hear and take it the wrong way.

Taking the hint, the kids all started to run into your arms and Jotaro took a step forward, holding his arms out a little to keep you and the children behind him.

Everyone had fearful looks as Amelia was the last to reach you, running behind you and around, hanging on the back of Jotaro’s pants. It wasn’t a few seconds later that the riders all stopped in front of the church.

“Howdy, partner.” The leader of the herd spoke up after a few seconds but Jotaro immediately picked up on the false friendliness in the voice.

“What do you want?” He bit back, glaring vehemently.

“Whoa, so angry.” The man mocked with a large grin, turning back to his friends behind him who laughed softly. “You should show me some respect you know.” He then continued, turning back to Jotaro with that grin still on his face. “Did your momma never teach you respect?” He continued jesting but Jotaro didn’t give any reaction, just holding the intimidating glare on the man.

This made him feel as if he was losing grip of the situation, so the man decided to take another approach and laughed a bit while calling out. “Why don’t I teach you some then?” He jokingly pointed his gun at Jotaro and the children whimpered and gasped in fear from behind him. Your grip on his trenchcoat tightened and Jotaro’s reaction was immediate, his right hand pulling back to behind his back before snapping forward, a gun now pointed at the man’s head.

“Try it.” Jotaro’s voice was low and dangerous and even the rider took note of it. “I know exactly what you’re up to. This is a community church, it has nothing of value for you, so take your little group and piss off. You’re scaring the children.” Jotaro calmly spoke as he stared down the barrel of the gun, showing not even a hint of fear, nervousness or hesitation.

“Now... calm down, friend.” The man tried, re-gripping his gun a little nervously.

“We ain’t friends and you know it. Get the hell away from here.” Jotaro’s hand was as steady as ever, his gun constantly pointed at the man’s head without even a single tremor or twitch from holding the iron up.

This angered the man. “You seem to not understand that you are outnumbered here, friend.” He spoke, calling Jotaro that again on purpose, signalling his mates in the meantime, who all grabbed a gun and pointed it at Jotaro as well.

The children cowered even more, small shrieks leaving them and you tried to shush them. “It’s alright, just stay behind me and Jotaro. You’re alright.” You spoke in a hushed tone, petting the heads of those you could reach. You discreetly saw the door to the church open and saw the Sister poke her head out. You quickly and frantically shook your head, a message for her to stay where she was.

“Are you really going to threaten children on church grounds?” Jotaro questioned calmly and the leader growled a bit in anger.

“Stop acting so smug or I’ll blast your head off! And that of that girl too! Give those brats something to look at!”

“Threaten her again and I’ll make sure you’ll never speak again.” Jotaro’s retort was immediate as he glared at the man, lowering his gun just a little to point directly at the mouth of the loud-mouthed bastard.

“Hit a nerve?” The guy smirked. “I’ll say it again, you’re outnumbered.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure, son.” A new voice spoke up and everyone’s head whipped to the source. “What’s going on here?” The sheriff spoke, tilting his head a little while two of his deputies joined his side, all of them having their hands hovering over the guns strapped to their belts.

Now that there were a lot more possible enemies, the man wavered. Slowly and reluctantly, he lowered his gun. “Nothing, sheriff. Just a bit of harmless fun.” He spoke and his friends took it as a sign to lower their guns as well.

“Was it? ‘Cause as far as I can see you are threatening innocent children. Now, will you move on yourself or will we have a problem?”

“Tch.” The man gritted his teeth before hitting the reins of his horse, simultaneously softly kicking his feet into its belly, making the animal start calmly stepping forward, the rest of his group following his example as they started riding away at a slow pace.

“Follow them and make sure they leave proper.” The sheriff whispered to his deputies before leaving them to their business and walking over to the gate leading into the church grounds.

Jotaro kept his gun up the entire time the gang of riders were riding away, all of them sending occasional glances back that kept Jotaro on high alert. Only once the deputies rode past and started tailing the men did he finally lower it.

Once he un-cocked the gun and sighed out, the children still cowering behind the two of you finally relaxed a little, two of them bursting into tears as the sheriff walked through the fence and towards the steps of the church - to which you immediately started trying to console them.

“Holy crap! You just won that standoff singlehandedly!!” Jack shouted as the sheriff stepped into earshot, the boy jumping in front of Jotaro with his hands thrown in the air as he looked at the man before him in awe.

“That was so cool!! It was like twenty to one and you still won!” Tommy piped in with an exaggerated number and Jotaro lowered his hat over his eyes, softly letting out his usual catchphrase.

“Are you boys all alright?” The sheriff walked up and Jotaro lifted his gaze again, briefly looking back to see you had succeeded in calming the children down, four of them now clinging to you in a group hug as the doors to the church opened properly, the nun quickly walking out to help comfort the children.

“Yes. Thank you for stepping in.” Jotaro spoke back, nonchalantly putting his gun back in its place, hidden behind his trenchcoat.

“Well, that’s my job.” The sheriff joked before turning a little more serious. “What happened exactly?”

Jotaro looked back at you once again, seeing you now quietly talking with the kids to calm them down. This earned him an elbow poke in the ribs from Tommy and he glared at the kid, making said boy giggle to himself and drag Jack with him, running over to you.

“They came to rob the church, believing it to have many riches like those city churches have, probably.” Jotaro sounded a little indifferent as he turned back to look forward and the sheriff hummed.

“Mr. Kujo saved us, sheriff Miller.” The sister spoke as she walked up, placing a hand on Jotaro’s shoulder blade. Jotaro just looked down at the nun, getting a grateful smile from her and he gave a small barely noticeable nod back.

Something suddenly latched onto his right leg and Jotaro looked down to see Amelia hanging on his pant leg, burying her head into the fabric.

Jotaro just looked at her for a second. He didn’t know what he had done to get her like this, but Amelia had really attached herself to him. Jotaro on the other hand, still had no idea what to do around children. He awkwardly patted her on her head, making her look up. “Go to Y/N, it’s alright.” He spoke, trying his best to sound gentle but it still came out quite gruffly, regrettably enough.

Amelia didn’t seem to care though and stayed latched on his leg while both the nun and the sheriff chuckled discreetly at the young man trying his best. Crouching down to get on eye height with the girl, the sheriff got her attention. “Are you alright?” He asked and Amelia turned her head, half of her face still buried in Jotaro’s trousers but still paying attention. She nodded softly and the sheriff smiled.

“Why don’t you go to Miss L/N, Mr. Kujo? I’ll handle the rest.” The Sister smiled and Jotaro nodded at her, turning around.

Amelia let go of his leg and instead grabbed his hand, trying to pull him along now as she tried to hurry over to you.

Once he was close enough, you noticed and got up, turning around to face him. Amelia let go of his hand and ran to her friends while your eyes crossed with Jotaro’s.

Tears were pricking in the corners and that shocked Jotaro slightly. He had no time to react as you ran over to him and jumped into him, wrapping your arms around his neck as you buried your head in his shoulder.

He immediately caught you, wrapping his arms around your body and holding it against himself to hold you up. Yet, his eyes were wide as he felt his heart thump. He had no idea what to do. He felt you pressing your face even deeper into his neck, trying to keep yourself from crying in front of the children but Jotaro knew you wanted to, more than anything.

His brain short-circuited and all he could think to do was tighten his hold on you, letting you know he was there.

Some noises to his left caught his attention and he looked over to see Jack and Tommy making kissy faces at him. In an immediate reaction he kicked a rock that lay at his foot to them, making them dodge it and giggle while running away again, joining the other kids while Jotaro silently grumbled to himself, trying to calm his beating heart.

“You alright?” He asked after a minute more of silence and he felt you nod into his shoulder.

“Yeah... you?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Jotaro questioned and you lifted your head, leaning back a bit to look at his face. Your eyes were a bit red and you sniffled softly.

“Well.” You started with a small sad chuckle. “You did just nearly die.”

To that, Jotaro rolled his eyes. “You clearly read the situation wrong then.” He put you back on your feet, looking to see the nun walking back over to the children while the sheriff was now walking away, sticking his hand up as he looked back in a goodbye before turning around fully and walking back to his horse.

Because he was looking to the sheriff walking away however, he was unable to brace himself when you took a few steps back and jumped right into him, tackling him to the floor.

A heavy ‘oof’ left him as he crashed to the ground with you right on top of him. You immediately sat onto his stomach and Jotaro had to try very hard to suppress a blush at the sight.

“Don’t you dare accuse me of seeing things wrong when I am just worried for your safety.” You spoke, poking his chest in warning, but the teasing look in your eyes told Jotaro exactly what you were thinking.

In return, Jotaro grabbed your wrists and rolled the two of you around so that you were now pinnend under him. “I will accuse you, because you will always remain oblivious.” He spoke, his voice sounding a little strained even though he held a small smirk.

“Oblivious to what?” You questioned, narrowing your eyes. Jotaro didn’t say anything, just looked deeply in your eyes. Neither of you really noticed he was leaning down until his face was inches from yours.

Yet before anything else could happen: “GET HIIIIMMM!!” A young voice screamed out and Jotaro jerked his head back up, looking up past his shoulder only to have three different bodies flung on top of him.

You burst out laughing at Jotaro’s surprised face that only you had a view of, even though you were still trapped under the man, his hands on either side of you as he attempted to keep himself from toppling over and crushing you.

“No, no! Oh dear.” You heard the Sister laugh, having tried to stop the children, only to fail miserably as six of the eight were now on top of Jotaro, trying to bring him down.

Part 2  |  Part 3

[bloodfromthethorn]

Helicopter Parenting

"We’re on Deck 2, starboard side, about uhh, four? cabins in from the water. What is this plan of yours?” “Mac, do you trust me?” “Always.” “Good. Because there’s a helicopter on the roof of that ship and I’m going to teach you how to fly it.”

A hundred miles apart, lost in the Pacific Ocean, Mac's only chance of getting Riley home safe is his partner's voice over the radio.

Also on AO3. 

..

Despite what the rumours might say, there are still actually a few things in the world with the power to scare Matilda Webber. The top, oh, one hundred or so positions are occupied by the varied and horrific things she knows could be inflicted upon the people she loves, followed pretty quickly by all the things that could be done to her country if anyone gave its enemies half a chance. Several decades of dealing with the worst of the worst has given her a pretty healthy idea of what that can look like. After so many years in the business, she’s not learned to overcome her fears so much as learned when and how to use them; now, the desperate clawing need to protect her family is the main blade she uses to keep her senses and awareness sharp in the War Room.

What is rare, however, is anything with the power to intimidate her. Fear has never once cowed her and she’ll only ever bend to authority that she’s certain deserves it. It’s an iron will that has been the bane of many a CIA handler, but it’s kept her on a path she can walk without being crushed by guilt or shame or disgust, even after all these years. No matter what horrors she has to face, she will meet it with her chin held high.

All of that being said, even she felt a shiver of danger crawl up her spine when Jack Dalton – a man she had trusted with her life for years – stalked towards her War Room in tac gear with an assault rifle in his hands and a furious scowl across his face. A gaggle of technicians parted before him like the Red Sea, but he hardly seemed to even notice them as his focus fixed firmly on where she was watching him approach.

To his credit – or perhaps simply his side of their shared paranoia when it came to sensitive information – he at least waited until he’d entered the room and slammed the door shut behind him before he started speaking. And it was speaking, on a purely technical level, quiet and almost gentle if not for the absolute steel just beneath it.

“What the hell is going on Matty?” He asked. Somehow, the fact that he wasn’t screaming at her in the way he oh so clearly wanted to made it that much more threatening.

She straightened her spine and stared him down. “There wasn’t time to sit and wait on this one Jack,” she said firmly. “We had to make a move and Riley and Mac know what they’re doing.”

Unsurprisingly, the assertion did absolutely nothing to quell Jack’s ire. If anything, her determined calm was only pissing him off more. “I don’t give a shit if there wasn’t time! You still don’t send two unarmed agents into a hostile situation without backup!”

“Riley’s armed. And you know as well as I do that Mac’s one of the most dangerous people we’ve ever met with or without a gun.”

“When he has someone watching his back, sure. When he can focus on doing what he does because I’m the one worrying about everything else, he’s goddamn unstoppable. Not alone.”

“He’s not alone,” Matty reminded him, fighting to keep her cool as frustration bubbled in her gut. She wasn’t happy about the situation either, thank you very much, and the fact that it had escalated as far as it had was doing none of them any favours when it came to keeping a level head. “Riley is a trained combat operative now and she has his back.”

“She’s a combat-trained field agent,” Jack corrected sharply, but even in the midst of his rage he couldn’t bury the note of pride that sprung up at the mention of it. “It’s not the same and you know it.”

Now was most certainly not the time to get bogged down into the minutiae of the Phoenix’s complicated agent designation protocols, and from the twist of Jack’s mouth, he knew it too. He wasn’t wrong, certainly, but the distinction hardly mattered when they had two agents stranded on a cargo ship racing headlong into the Pacific.

“They were only supposed confirm Martinez’s cargo was on board before getting out of there – simple in and out. We had no idea they’d launch the ship tonight. Even if there had been time to put together a tac team, we didn’t think we’d need one.”

“I’m not asking for you to have sent a team! I should have been there!”

“And if you’d been at the Phoenix when they left, I would have sent you with them. But you were three hours away taking down Martinez’s warehouse, remember?” She politely didn’t point out the fact that to have gotten there as quickly as he had could only have been possible by breaking a frankly impressive number of traffic laws. She made a note in the back of her mind to put a tech on clean up for that particular problem and focused back on bigger issues.

“Then you should have sent someone else,” Jack bit out, his frustration finally starting to overwhelm his ironclad control. “You do not send my kids out on their own with no one to back them up.”

Whatever Matty’s response to that was supposed to be, she was saved from having to figure it out by the screen on a wall chiming and an audio track appearing beneath Mac’s name.

“Matty? Can you hear me?”

She spared half a second to recover herself from facing off against Jack and mentally pulled up all the information she currently had about her agents’ whereabouts and status. “Loud and clear. Good to have you back again.”

“Yeah, sorry about that. Turns out these guys had a signal jammer.”

“Had?”

“I needed an oscillator. Two birds, right?”

She let a smile crawl onto her face, only to lose it again a second later when Jack shifted his weapon uneasily against his vest. “Hey hoss,” he said quietly. There was a short, telling silence with no reply. “Yeah, so. You think there might be something you neglected to mention?”

Even through a comm link, with however many miles between them, there was no way that Mac would miss the cool venom in his tone. Another strained pause.

“We didn’t have time to wait, Jack,” he said.

Typically, when Jack was mad at Mac for doing something reckless, Mac defaulted to one of two possible responses: if he was uninjured and it had all worked out, then he was joking and light and brushed off the concern as Jack being overprotective; or, if he was injured in some way and had genuinely scared his partner, he was subdued and compliant, openly accommodating to whatever Jack might need from him like it was some sort of penance. The soft, wounded timbre of his voice in his reply just then told Matty everything she needed to know about how badly things had gone while they’d been out of contact.

Evidently Jack was thinking the exact same thing because all of that suppressed anger disappeared instantly behind a wall of concern. “What’s going on man? Talk to me.”

“We- uh. We might be in trouble.”

“Sit rep, Blondie,” Matty ordered. “Give us everything.”

“Well, the cargo’s definitely on board. Took some pictures that should be uploading to the Phoenix’s servers any moment now.”

“Stop dodging hoss. Who’s hurt?”

Mac made a sharp humming sound that felt a lot like a flinch, and Matty felt her chest growing cold. “Riley’s unconscious,” he reported dutifully, apparently realising that trying to soften that blow wasn’t going to do anything to curb their growing concern. “She’s okay, I think, but she got caught in some anaesthetic gas one of the guys released and I can’t wake her up. I need to get her out of here.”

“You get caught in the gas too?” How Jack could sound so collected when he looked like he was about to shake apart, Matty had no idea.

“Not really. Minimal exposure at the most. No threat.”

Jack squinted at the audio track like he could see the pitch of a lie in it. “What’s going on hoss? If she’s out, you can pick her up and get to a lifeboat. Just get yourselves out of there and we can come and pick you up.”

There was an uneasy chuckle over the line. “There aren’t any boats. They were trying to use them to safely ditch cargo.”

“So you sabotaged them.”

“Yeah, something like that.”

Crossing to the screen and letting his rifle dangle from its clips, Jack clicked through some files until he was able to pull up the ship schematics Riley had uncovered before she and Mac had set off. Matty didn’t know what he hoped to find that could offer them a way out when they were so far from shore, but she’d learned better than to question him over it. Instead, she turned her attention to Mac.

“Where are the pair of you now? Are you secure?”

“Secure for the moment, but I don’t know how long we’ll be able to stay that way. I locked most of them in the hold, but that door probably isn’t going to stop them for much longer. There’s another handful elsewhere on the ship but we have no way of tracking them. I holed us up in- uh,” he broke off for a second, evidently only just properly observing his surroundings, “Looks like a cabin of some kind. I wanted to re-establish comms before I did anything else.”

“You did the right thing,” she confirmed. Being able to speak to each other, putting the not insignificant resources of the Phoenix at his disposal, was invaluable. “How are you doing?”

There was another pause and Jack suddenly froze up where he was looking over the plans.

“Hoss?”

“I- uh. I’m not doing so great.”

“Gas?”

“No. No, I- Look, okay this is going to sound way worse than it is, but I- I kinda got a bit… stabbed?”

Jack’s expression twitched. “Define ‘a bit.’”

“Leg wound. No arterial spray. I can still walk, more or less, though it’s not a great time I’ll be honest.”

“You been able to wrap it? Stop the bleeding?”

“What do you think I’ve been doing while we’ve been talking? Riley had a first aid kit in her bag – had a proper pressure dressing and everything. I’m alright Jack. I just needed a bit of a breather.”

Jack and Matty both let out a simultaneous, long breath, sharing a look that was two parts relieved, ten parts baffled admiration. And, perhaps for Jack, another several doses of utterly enraged, but there would have to be time for that later.

In place of pressing the issue, he turned back to his schematics. “While this is a conversation we’re definitely going to circle back to, let’s worry about getting you out of there first. I’m working on the assumption that we can’t get a team out to you in any reasonable timeframe?” He shot a side glance at Matty.

She pressed her lips together, displeased. “Our satellites estimate that the ship’s moving at about 23 knots and it’s already 100 miles offshore. Getting a tac team loaded up and on a chopper… We wouldn’t get there for another hour at the earliest.”

“That’s too long,” Mac said immediately. “If we were both up and mobile, we could probably hide out and avoid the guards but as we are… We need to get out of here ASAP.”

“Send the team anyway,” Jack put in, unbothered by the fact he was technically ordering his boss around. He was head of security after all, and the tac teams were his domain. “We’ll want them on clean up if nothing else and we don’t want Martinez’ cargo disappearing if we can help it. In the meantime, Mac, I need to know exactly where you are. I’m going to get you out of there.”

“You have a plan?”

“Something like it. And, I can’t believe I get to say this, but you’re not going to like it.”

There was a quiet huff of laughter. “Why does that not surprise me? We’re on Deck 2, starboard side, about uhh, four? cabins in from the water. What is this plan of yours?”

Jack twisted the schematics around, counting, then tapped on the room Mac had described with a note of satisfaction before his gaze turned serious. Matty watched him with open curiosity. “Mac, do you trust me?”

“Always.”

“Good. Because there’s a helicopter on the roof of that ship and I’m going to teach you how to fly it.”

..

Mac had every faith in his partner. He’d trusted him to watch his back for nearly a decade of people shooting at him. He’d shared just about every secret he’d ever had with him, including things he’d never have told anyone else. He had no doubt that Jack would move heaven and earth to protect him from any and all harm that might come his way.

Even with all of that, this was still a deeply stupid plan.

Mac had thought it the moment Jack had said it, but he was in a desperate enough position he was willing to at least hear him out. Riley’s motionless body beside him was a pretty firm motivation for doing absolutely anything he could, after all, and hey, Jack really was a hell of a pilot. If there was anyone capable of guiding someone through flying a helicopter he couldn’t see, then it was probably him. Mac just wasn’t sure he was the best pilot for the job.

Now, as he folded Riley’s limp frame into the passenger seat and stooped awkwardly to make sure she was buckled in, he let his doubts creep back in.

He knew a fair amount about helicopters – the aerodynamics of their flight had been of particular interest to him as a child – and he’d flown in enough of them to have a reasonable familiarity with the panel of dials that greeted him as he slid into his seat, but that all felt like a long, long way from actually controlling the damn thing. He’d sort of figured that partnering up with a certified pilot would solve this particular issue now and forever. Now he was expected to do just that with an unconscious passenger and a stab wound in his leg that had been steadily bleeding for some time. The bandage had helped for a time, but walking around burdened by Riley’s weight had shaken loose any clots that had managed to form. It wasn’t enough blood loss to put him at risk for the moment, but it was sufficient to make him woozy and the pulsing pain wasn’t doing him a lot of favours either.

“Alright, we’re in,” he announced, trying to sound far more certain of this than he felt. “Now what?”

“What type of bird is it? Can you see a brand name on anything? There should be a manual somewhere in there.”

Mac cast about in the low light as quickly as he could. “Bell,” he read off the stylised pedals at his feet. “Does that help?”

“Yes, that’s good. Okay, Bell...” Jack hummed to himself and Mac’s mind conjured an image of him standing with his eyes closed as he visualised the cockpit around himself. “Right. Behind you, between the seats, there should be a checklist – can you see it?”

“Yeah,” he said, tugging it free and then grimacing. “But it’s all in… Korean? I think?”

“Doesn’t matter – I’m guessing you don’t have time for pre-flight checks anyway.” They almost certainly didn’t, but Mac was loathe to rush him when he had so little idea of what he was supposed to be doing. “Just look for a number. I need to know exactly what type of helicopter it is so I can tell you where to find things.”

“Uhh, 206?”

Jack crowed in triumph. “Excellent news.”

“You know that means nothing to me, right?”

“Yeah, well, now you know how I feel literally any time you start talking about science mumbo jumbo. Suck it up. Now, I’m going to be honest with you, without doing any checks, this is probably going to be wildly unsafe.”

“Jack, I’ve never flown anything before and you’re about to walk me through piloting a helicopter across a hundred miles of the Pacific. I think skipping the checks might be the least unsafe thing I’m about to do.”

He snickered, which had been the response Mac was going for. He might be scared out of his mind, but he refused to let Jack feel guilty for talking him into something that really was their best shot of getting off this godforsaken boat.

“Okay, we’re going to have to be smart about this because your blades are going to need a few minutes to warm up and I’m guessing once you get the engine started, people are going to come running.”

“I barricaded the hatch up here,” Mac pointed out. “Should buy us a bit of time.”

“I’m sure, but let’s not tempt fate, yeah?”

“Fine by me.”

“Okay, quick rundown of your controls. The stick in front of you is your cyclic; that’s going to control your tilt to get you moving in the right direction. Your pedals are going to move your nose around – you’re not going to want to be using them much once you get pointing in the right direction. On your left, there’s going to be a lever, like a handbrake. You see it?”

“I see it.”

“That’s your collective and your throttle, alright? Throttle is twist, collective – uh… how you go up and down – that’s on the lever itself.”

Mac stared at the innocent looking lever like it had personally wronged him for a moment, then forced himself to just go along with it. This plan would work or it wouldn’t and panicking was only going to make the latter more likely.

“Right, this is the point where you’re supposed to make sure all of them are in working order but in the interests of time, let’s do this. Under the collective, there’s some switches that say hydraulics and engine anti-ice. You want hydraulics on, anti-ice off.”

Mac obligingly flicked the switches, then moved through another handful as Jack rattled them off. Even with a solid background in engineering, he made very little attempt to register what each switch did beyond whether it had to be on or off, putting aside his intrinsic desire to understand things for a later date. He could worry about how all the parts fit together when he wasn’t expected to actually fly the damn thing.

“Directly above you, there’s a handle. That’s your rotor brake – make sure it’s all the way up or you’re not going to be going anywhere.”

“Rotor brake up.”

“Okay, it’s engine time. You ready to move fast?”

“Whenever you are,” he said, then faltered for a moment, suddenly breathless. “Hey, Jack?”

“Yeah bud?”

“Thank you. For this. There’s no one I’d trust more.” There was an agreement between them that they wouldn’t ever try to say goodbye and, honestly, Mac wasn’t. He just wanted to make sure the words were out there just in case any of the number of things that could go wrong did go wrong.

Jack sniffed conspicuously. “You too Mac. I know you can do this.”

Mac forced himself to take a deep breath, looking over at Riley and briefly wishing that she had been at least awake enough to agree to this ridiculous plan before he risked her life without permission. But that was something he couldn’t have and wishing wouldn’t make it better. All he could do now was do his best to get her out of there.

“Right. What am I doing?”

“The panel above you. At the front, one of the switches is going to say battery. When you flick it on there’s going to be a loud beeping noise – the button on the dash in front of you, just above the dials is your mute. The engines are probably going to draw attention regardless, but you probably want to hit that pretty quickly.”

With another deep breath, Mac did as he was bid.

“We’re going to skip the fuel pump check, so look up and move the avionics switch on. Then, at the bottom of the panel in front of you there’s a red switch – make sure that’s on.”

“Yes to both.”

“Okay, it’s time for the throttle. On the end of the collective there’s a button that says starter. Press it in and hold as you twist the throttle away from you. You’re going to keep your eyes on the TOT gauge as you do it. That’s the one on the second row, one in from the left. You’re going to need to get the needle into that yellow region, but go slow! Hold it in the yellow until your N1 hits 58%.”

“N1?”

“The dial below the TOT.”

“Got it.” Above him, the rotors had started to pick up speed and the engine was rumbling along through its start up. If he’d had to guess, he would have said they’d have no more than thirty seconds or so before men were pounding on that hatch to get at them. The pair of them waited with baited breath as the engines warmed and the blades increased in speed, feeling every second like a physical weight. After what felt like an eternity, the N1 dial reached 58 and Mac let out a sharp breath.

“You’re almost there kid,” Jack soothed, far more collected that Mac felt in that moment. “I’ve got you. Now, release that starter button. We’ve got a little bit of waiting to do before you can start the generator, so take a moment.”

“I’m not sure how many moments we have to spare.”

“Rushing a helicopter is only going to make it stall. We’re going as fast as we can, I promise you bud.”

“I believe you.”

From below, the sounds of shouting wafted up through the night air and a few seconds later there was a heavy thump against the barricaded hatch. Their time limit on remaining hidden had just run out.

“Well, they found us,” he said bleakly. “Let’s hope that barricade holds.”

“Don’t suppose you have Riley’s gun, do you?”

“Jack.”

He laughed, strained though it obviously was. It was only then that Mac stupidly cottoned onto the fact that Jack was staying so calm because Mac was very audibly not doing so well; no wonder he was trying to distract him while they could do nothing but sit there and wait.

“How’s Riley?”

Another distraction, but one he was happy enough to indulge. A quick check revealed a steady pulse and breathing, but no signs of waking up which, honestly, given how terrified Mac felt right in that moment, might actually have been a blessing for her. He relayed the information all the same and tried fiercely to get a hold of himself.

“Alright Mac, that’s our time up. Roll up the throttle again until your N1 hits 70, then flick the generator switch at the front of the panel above you.” There was another list of switches to hit in sequence, and Mac spared a brief thought to how fucking impressive it was that Jack remembered all of this completely without any kind of prompting; it was no secret to him that Jack was much, much smarter than he liked to appear, but even with his insider knowledge, Mac wouldn’t have expected this. Jack couldn’t even see the cockpit and here he was directing Mac to the exact location of about sixty different inputs.

“Now roll up the throttle again. You want to get your TOT back in the yellow but keep the torque – the next dial up – below 30. Slow and steady, okay?”

Another, much louder banging sound at the hatch belied any attempt at going too slow, but Mac’s nerve held and he did as instructed. The roar of the engines increased and the whole craft started to judder violently, the blades starting to catch the air and generate lift. It certainly didn’t feel safe, but up was ultimately the direction they wanted to go after all.

“Throttle’s maxed out,” he said when he hit resistance. Even through the headphones he’d pulled on, the engines sounded deafening.

“Then it’s time to get out of there. You’re going to slowly raise the collective to get you off the ground, using the pedals and the cyclic to balance any motion you can feel. Your weather looks pretty good, but there’s probably going to be a bit of a breeze that far out, right?”

“Jack,” Mac said slowly, feeling dread pool in his stomach.

“You’ve got this kid. You’re the bravest person I ever met and I know you can do this. Honestly, you’ve done the hard part already. Now get you and Riley home so I can yell at you for turning me grey, alright?”

“That’s not a very convincing incentive,” he shot back, but he was smiling. Jack had done exactly what he’d set out to do and Mac felt his heart rate slowing down as trust in his partner overwhelmed his doubts. “Well, now or never, I guess.”

Slowly, ever so slowly, he pulled up on the collective, somehow surprised when the entire helicopter shuddered and actually began to rise into the air, as though he’d half expected the thing to refuse out of principle. Mac was no pilot, but Jack sure as shit was and he’d been very clear in his instructions; provided Mac didn’t mess this up somehow, they’d be fine. Probably. Maybe. It was a distinct possibility.

There was another booming thump and the barricade on the far side of the platform wobbled and swayed but didn’t buckle – they could only have another few seconds left before they’d both be riddled with bullets. The thought smothered any further attempts at caution and Mac tugged more firmly at the collective, trying to even out their substantial wobble using the cyclic and only achieving mild success. If he didn’t get the hang of it before they made landfall, he was almost certainly going to make himself sick, but that was still better than dead. He could only apologise to how Riley would feel when she woke up.

“We’re in the air,” he reported, “Somehow. Now what?”

“Keep climbing. As soon as you’re clear of any structures on the ship, you’re going to want to break eye line from where those guys are trying to come up. That’s likely going to mean heading towards the stern.”

“Conveniently where I want to be anyway, right?”

“Yep. See, my plan’s genius.”

“We are about a hundred steps too early in this process to be saying that.” Even as he spoke, he carefully used the pedals to ease the helicopter’s nose around, ignoring the warning flare of pain in his leg as he moved, and gingerly pushed the cyclic forward, nearly passing out when the craft lurched forwards. It steadied again a moment later, so he tried a second time, aiming for a smoother motion and being relatively successful.

“Nah, flying in a straight line’s easy. As soon as you’re clear of the ship, it’ll be plain sailing, you’ll see. Heh, get it? Plain sailing?”

“Everyone got it, Jack, we’re just not laughing,” Matty put in suddenly. Mac had almost forgotten she was there given her continued silence. Likely she hadn’t wanted to interrupt the intense focus the pair of them had needed to get this far with their plan. “I’ve got two tac teams suiting up and heading out to the ship Blondie. They’ll round up anyone left behind and confiscate Martinez’s cargo. It’s not what we planned, exactly, but it’s a major step forwards. This is going to put a major dent in his weapon smuggling ring.”

“I reserve the right to celebrate that when I’m not trying to fly a helicopter.”

She laughed, indulgent. “Deal. Just get home safe. You make one hell of a pilot.”

“I guarantee you I do not. Jack does though.”

“That too.”

“Aww, was that actually a compliment? You’re going to make me blush.” There was a quiet grumbling from Matty, but no counterattack, which was a glowing neon sign to indicate how proud she currently was of them. Despite himself, Mac couldn’t help but feel a warm glow at the thought.

It was that sensation that buoyed him as he carefully steered the chopper forwards, half expecting bullets to pepper the hull at any second. He did hear a smattering of gunfire just as he cleared the edge of the ship but no impacts and, after a frantic scan of Riley to make sure nothing had hit her, he had to conclude that they’d missed. Mac didn’t intend to hang around long enough to give any of them another shot.

“I can’t believe that worked,” he breathed, almost lightheaded with the relief of it. There was still a long way to go, but he thought he was justified in taking a little heart that they’d made it this far.

“I knew you could do it kid,” Jack said, pride evident in his voice. “Now come on home. I’m going to talk you through it all, don’t you worry.”

“Thanks Jack. Really.”

“Don’t mention it hoss.”

..

Riley woke to the simultaneous sensations of a pounding head, stiff muscles, and a nausea so intense she was a little worried she’d hurl before she even managed to get her eyes open. The weird, jolting rocking going on was not helping matters. She tried to get her bearings, but the best she could do was identify that she was sitting mostly upright with some sort of harness crossing her chest and stomach. In a car, maybe? Although no car ride she’d ever been on had been quite so bumpy.

Stumped, she groaned quietly to herself then startled as a warm hand came to rest against her shoulder.

“Riles? You with me?”

The tension in her frame disappeared in an instant as the familiar voice registered. “Mac?”

There was a relieved laugh from her right. “Thank god. You’ve had me worried.”

“Where…?”

“Do you remember what happened?”

She considered that, trying to get her mind to work through the fog that had descended over everything. The headache beating along to the pulse of her heart wasn’t much help in that department, but she forced the pain aside and focused. “We were… on a boat? It set sail.”

“Yeah, it did.” He sounded upset about that but didn’t press the matter.

“We were looking for something. Cargo. Guns? We found some crates in the hold and you were trying to get one open…” She trailed off as the memory faded into darkness. No matter how much she tried to push through it, nothing else revealed itself to her until the moment she woke up here, wherever here was.

With that thought in mind, she finally forced her eyes to blink open. It was a relief to see that it was mostly dark around her so she didn’t have to immediately flinch against blinding light, but in a lot of ways that just raised more questions. As did the gently glowing panel of dials in front of her. And the headset she was wearing. And the steady roar of an engine somewhere above her. And- was she in a helicopter?

She jolted properly awake, springing upright despite her lethargy and staring around at what was, most definitely, a helicopter cockpit. Through the window beside her, she could see pale moonlight glinting off water some distance below.

“We’re flying,” she said, stupidly, still trying to kick her brain into gear. Her head spun round to stare at Mac for some kind of explanation to this bizarre state of affairs and finally registered his identical headset and the joystick-looking contraption gripped tightly in one white knuckled fist. “You’re flying?” She processed that for a second. “I didn’t know you knew how to fly one of these things.”

“I don’t.” He shot her a sardonic look out of the corner of his eye, twitching the control in his hand as they were jostled by what felt like a gust of wind. Her eyes dropped automatically to follow the movement and she suddenly noticed the far more pressing issue demanding her attention. Already riding high on the surprise of the helicopter, the fresh spike of adrenaline felt like a physical blow.

“Why are you covered in blood?!”

Mac immediately went rigid, but it wasn’t his voice that answered her. “Covered in- Mac.”

Oh. Oh shit. Jack was on comms. Of course Jack was on comms. Riley mentally kicked herself, while at the same time distantly wishing she could just start this whole waking up thing all over again because she had absolutely no idea what was going on.

“It’s not that bad, I swear. It’s just my leg, Jack. Remember how I already told you about that and you already freaked out over it?”

“You promised me you stopped the bleeding.” His voice sounded hard, angry, but it was a poor cover for his concern to anyone who actually knew him. Fresh guilt washed over Mac’s face and Riley wished again that she’d been smart enough to keep her stupid mouth shut.

“I did,” Mac reassured, only to ruin it a second later by adding, “But all the running around to get us to the helicopter aggravated things. The bandage is still in place – I think it’s stopped again now.”

“You think? You wanna maybe be a little more specific about how badly your stab wound is bleeding?”

“Look,” he snapped back, his calm cracking a little under what Riley suddenly realised was a huge amount of stress, “There’s only so many things I can worry about at once, alright? Riley was unconscious, men with guns were chasing us, and I was having to figure out how to fly this thing with exactly zero prior training. A minor wound that’s already been treated is not high on my list of priorities.”

Jack sucked in an audible breath and held it for a long few seconds, reining in whatever temper was trying to flare up. When he spoke again, his voice was level once more. “Okay. Okay, hoss, I get that. I shouldn’t have snapped. But now that Riley’s awake and you’re not on the ship, you think you can spare a bit of brain power for your leg and fill me in on what’s happening?”

Mac likewise took a moment to recover himself, his hand flexing agitatedly on the flight controls. “I can’t examine it properly without letting go of the cyclic and I’m not doing that so. I’m kind of woozy and lightheaded and I’m pretty sure that’s only partially due to the adrenaline.”

“You think you’ve lost enough blood to go into shock?”

He hummed noncommittally. “I didn’t think so, but I’m also not about to say it’s impossible.”

“He’s looking pretty pale, Jack,” Riley put in, completely ignoring the betrayed look Mac shot her. She reached out to brush her fingertips against the freezing skin of his arm. “Skin’s cold and clammy.”

“Thanks,” Mac muttered sarcastically.

“That’s starting to sound a hell of a lot like shock, Mac,” Jack said and the frustration was back in his voice. It eased again a second later when he added, “But, to be fair, I don’t suppose there’s a lot you can do about that right now.”

“We’re only a couple of miles out from the coast now, right? I can make it that far. As soon as we’re back on the ground, I’ll get medical attention, I promise.”

“Uh huh, I’ve heard that before. You promise to get help now but then as soon as we’re out of danger you decide that actually you’re feeling a whole lot better and all you really need is to go home and sleep it off.”

“Nine times out of ten, that’s exactly what I do need to do.”

“It’s arguments like this that end with you calling me in the middle of the night needing a ride to the hospital.”

“That was one time.”

“Yeah, and I’ve still got the grey hair to remember it by.”

Riley let the conversation wash over her, keeping her attention firmly on Mac as she made the visual assessment that Jack couldn’t. He sounded optimistic about his chances of getting them back to the shore, but she could see the slight tremor in his frame, the scary pallor of his skin in the washed out glow of the dashboard. His grip on the controls hadn’t wavered but in the context of everything else it looked less like he was utterly fixated on his task and more like he was using it as a lifeline to keep him in the moment. Given the amount of blood coating his pants and the seat below him, she couldn’t exactly fault him for it.

“Mac,” she said quietly, wincing a little when he startled at the sound, “What can I do to help?”

He looked across at her for just a moment before forcibly returning his eyes to the black void ahead of them. Whatever it was he thought he could see through the darkness, he seemed determined to keep it in his sights. “I need to hydrate, if I can. Do you have any water left?”

She glanced around herself to find her backpack neatly stowed at her feet. Of course Mac would be enough of an overachiever to not only carry her ass around, but to salvage all of her gear too. She dug out her water bottle, gave it a quick shake to confirm that it was still around half full, then unscrewed the cap and held it awkwardly in the air between them.

A blush crept up the side of Mac’s neck, but he didn’t move a muscle. “I- uh. I can’t let go of this thing,” he said lowly, not looking at her. As if to prove his point, the helicopter shuddered around them again, rocking alarmingly from side to side before he was able to bring it back under control with a curse.

Fortunately for Mac’s evident embarrassment at this supposed weakness, Riley got the message. Without further comment, she carefully leaned towards him, cupping the back of his neck with one hand to anchor herself and tipping the bottle up to his lips with the other. Unbalanced as the helicopter was, some of the water ended up on Mac’s shirt but he was able to swallow most of it. He shot her a grateful smile as she pulled back once more, ducking his head in thanks.

There was another eddy of wind, stronger this time, and it took Mac a long moment of tense struggling to recentre their weight and level the chopper off. By the time it was steady again, he was breathing hard with panicked exertion.

“I know you always said you’d teach me to fly the crop duster on the ranch one day, Jack, but I’m telling you now, I’m never doing this again. This sucks.”

Jack snickered. “Please, like you’ve ever been someone to admit defeat on your first try. Besides, you’re doing great – I’m watching you on satellite, remember? You’ve got a lot to learn, young padawan, but I think there’s hope for you yet.”

“That is not at all comforting when I still have to land this thing, you know.”

Riley hadn’t even thought that far ahead. She had absolute trust in Mac and Jack both, and she’d seen the two of them together accomplish a frankly improbable number of impossible things; this really shouldn’t be anything in the face of that. At the same time, she was currently in a helicopter being flown by someone who looked as though he had no more idea than she did what the fuck he was actually supposed to be doing. She surreptitiously gripped the edge of her seat.

“You’ll be just as fine doing that as you have been so far. The wind’s going to pick up as you get closer to the coast, so watch out for that, but I’ve picked a nice sheltered landing spot just for you. Lots of open space, plenty of wind breaks, the whole works. And I’ll be waiting there for you with a full medical team as a welcome party. Sound good?”

“Sounds great, Jack,” Riley put in.

Mac, on the other hand, managed to look frantic for a heartbeat before he got it under control. “Wait, you’re- You’ll be there? You’re leaving?”

“Christ, no, not like that. I’ll be there, but I’m going to be on comms with you for every second, don’t worry. I made you a promise, didn’t I?”

The sudden tension that had gripped Mac bled out of him again and if it hadn’t been for the controls, he looked like he would have slumped in his seat. Pure, unfiltered exhaustion washed across his face before he tucked it back behind his usual mask of professionalism. Riley’s heart thumped hard in her chest in response. “Yeah. Yeah, I know you did.”

“I ain’t leaving you kid. I ain’t ever going to do that.”

..

In Jack’s line of work, the term ‘bad day at the office’ was usually on a very different scale to that of the everyday office-goer. Arguing with a printer that refused to do as it was told wasn’t exactly comparable to watching people you care about get shot and killed. It made for a sliding scale of relative badness, in Jack’s mind, that varied pretty dramatically from things that were just a bit annoying or uncomfortable, right up until life-changing trauma and he’d been in the game long enough to have experienced every facet of it.

Finishing up a raid to find out that his kids had gone in alone to hostile territory, only to be unintentionally abducted and then very intentionally hurt was shaping up to be a pretty fucking bad day. Everyone was alive so it certainly wasn’t the worst, but Jack was planning on claiming stress leave for the rest of the working week and he had exactly no intentions of feeling bad about it, so.

And, of course, it wasn’t over yet.

He’d purposefully picked a landing zone close to the Phoenix for A) maximum ease of access to medical personnel, and B) minimum amount of time out of the War Room where he could watch Mac and Riley’s progress on a wide screen. Even with that knowledge in mind, however, he still found himself tapping his foot impatiently against the concrete as he waited for the helicopter to come into view.

“I think we’re about a minute out,” Mac announced just before Jack could hassle him yet again about his location. In all honesty he could just pull up the satellite feed on his phone, but Jack was mostly using the constant check ins to monitor Mac’s deteriorating physical state without cluing him in to what he was doing, so he wasn’t about to stop. His partner’s voice had grown softer and more slurred over time, and more and more often Riley was chipping in with random comments and snippets of conversation as though she was concerned he needed something external to focus on. There was no way of gauging exactly how bad Mac was without being able to see him because damn if that kid couldn’t act like everything was normal when he had a bullet in his chest, but all together the clues painted a pretty bleak picture.

Still, it wouldn’t be long now. The home stretch, at long fucking last.

“Wind easing up?”

“It’s better than it was over the water. It still does not feel safe.”

“You’re doing great, Mac.”

“Listen to Riley, man, she’s a smart woman. She’s also not the one with severe blood loss, so I imagine she has a better grasp of the situation right now.”

“It’s not severe.”

“People in shock aren’t allowed to make those kinds of decisions.”

“I’m not in shock.”

“You kinda look like you are a little bit in shock, Mac.”

Jack laughed at the offended silence that followed, then crowed when the beating sound of a helicopter rotor reached him. A few seconds later, the craft’s lights appeared from behind the shadow of a tower block and made a beeline for Jack’s general location. “Goddamn it is good to see you two.”

“We’re not back yet.”

“No, but you’re damn close to it. Last step, hoss, you ready?”

“If it means I can get out of this thing and never go near it again then yes.”

“I’m sure we can work something out. Now basically we’re going to be doing everything you did to take off in reverse, but we’re going to do it slow this time since there aren’t armed goons trying to shoot you. Sound like a plan?”

“Walk me through it.”

“Centre yourself over where you want to land. We’ve cleared the entire lot so there’s nothing for you to hit, you’re just aiming to be as close to the middle as possible so you’re away from any obstacles.” With a series of jerking motions, the helicopter obligingly moved where it was supposed to. “Next bit’s getting on the ground. Move the collective back down – keep it steady and slow, and don’t ease up when you think you’re getting close. Just let the ground surprise you.”

“Being ‘surprised by the ground’ does not sound like the optimal outcome of a helicopter landing.”

He laughed, because there was definitely hope when Mac was still able to joke around. His distress was evident, but he’d buried it under his ever-impressive determination to see this through. “Hey now, would I lead you astray?”

Mac was already doing as he’d been asked, the confirmation entirely unneeded, but it felt good to offer it anyway.

From his vantage point a good twenty metres back, he squinted against the backdraft to try to get a glimpse of his kids. It was somewhat hopeless given the lack of light, but now that they were close, the need to see them was almost overwhelming.

A couple of strained heartbeats later, the helicopters runners touched down on the concrete with a slight rasp as they scratched along. The craft juddered, bobbed back up again for a split second, then sank down and stayed there.

“Holy shit,” Mac breathed to himself.

Jack’s grin was a fierce, triumphant thing and he had to fight to speak through the pride clogging his throat. “What did I tell you? Piece of cake. Okay, last bits – we need those rotors down before we can approach. Roll off the throttle until you hit the idle release. Riley, honey, there’s a button on the dash above the dials that’ll silence the alarm that’s about to start; can you press that?”

“Done. We’re- oh god, what’s that?”

The sudden concern in Riley’s voice had Jack’s heart dropping away, but the problem was thankfully easy enough to spot. Where once the helicopter had been sitting flush with the concrete, the decreasing rotor speed had started making it hop in place. “Mac, ease the collective up the tiniest bit.”

The helicopter once more came to rest still and as the blades continued their power down, Jack was finally, finally free to sprint towards it. He ducked low to shelter himself from the wind, but now that it was safe to get near his kids – or at least, unlikely to kill him – nothing on Earth was going to stop him. As he went, he waved a hand at the pilot he’d brought with him to drag him along too. All he’d needed Mac to do was get that thing on the ground – now that he had, someone with actual training could tag in to put the chopper through its landing sequence while Mac got some well-deserved medical attention.

Riley was out of her seat and on the concrete before Jack made it to them, gesturing him urgently towards Mac’s side of the cockpit. Alarm fizzled through Jack’s system but it wasn’t until he made it to Mac’s door and got his first good look at just how much blood he’d managed to paint himself with that he grasped exactly what kind of situation they were dealing with. Worst of all, it looked like Mac’s grasp on consciousness had at long last failed him. Cursing a blue streak inside his head and yelling at the medical team to get their asses over there, Jack hauled the door open and, with the pilot’s help, eased Mac out of his seat without jostling any of the still-very-active controls. Together they got him lying on the ground and Jack finally saw the damage his absence had wrought.

But, there was no time for self-recriminations. Mac needed medical help and he needed it right now. His leg didn’t seem to be bleeding much, if at all, but from the saturated bandage and pants, it was clear that he’d lost more than enough. Coupling it with the standard adrenaline crash at the tail end of any mission and the secondary crisis of having to pilot a helicopter with no training, it wasn’t really a surprise his brain had decided it was time to check out for a bit. It just meant that it was Jack’s turn to bear some of the load.

A minute or two of frantic activity later and the pilot had fully powered down the chopper, the medical team had performed an on-site assessment of Mac’s physical state and declared him stable but in need of a transfusion, and Jack, Riley, and Mac all found themselves cramming into the back of an unmarked ambulance. As soon as Jack had been able to hand off Mac’s immediate care to the medics, he’d hauled Riley into a fierce embrace and staunchly refused to let her untuck herself from his side once they’d climbed into the vehicle. He’d spent long enough without the pair of them in arms’ reach. Now it was his turn.

“Don’t think you’re getting out of a check-up too, missy,” he said, just as the ambulance was pulling away to start the trek back to the Phoenix. “You were out for a long time.”

“It was anaesthetic gas, Jack. It’s supposed to knock you out.”

“See, now, you say that like it’s going to convince me you’re perfectly fine and I’ve gotta tell you, it isn’t working.”

“I am perfectly fine.”

“He won’t listen Riles,” A quiet voice from beside them warned, and they both turned to stare in surprise at Mac’s barely awake self. He blinked sleepily at them, but he was smiling.

Fighting to recover quickly, Jack huffed pointedly. “Yeah, because it’s not like I have to deal with my partner telling me he got ‘a little bit stabbed’ only to find him half dead and unconscious, huh?”

“Wasn’t unconscious. Just… resting my eyes.”

“Yeah? You look like you’re about to rest them some more.”

“Tired.”

Jack squeezed Mac’s hand gently, willing away the tears that threatened to spring to his eyes at the crushing relief rolling over him. Hours and hours of stress and horror, and now he finally had the pair of them back beside him, if not entirely whole, then at least in a state where they could recover. For all his worrying, Riley really did seem alright and the medics’ assessment of Mac had largely been that there wasn’t any severe muscle or ligament damage to his thigh, just a hefty dose of blood loss; a transfusion and a solid night’s sleep should carry them through the worst of it.

Mac’s fingers squeezed back and Jack realised he’d lost his battle with his tears. Riley burrowed closer to his side, tipping her head against his shoulder.

“We’re okay, Jack,” Mac murmured, just barely awake.

“Yeah, I know you are. Get some sleep man, you look beat.”

“Thank you,” he said instead because Mac had never once been content to do as he was told. On the contrary, sudden, renewed fire sprang up behind his eyes and he blinked a few times as if to rally himself. He was down far too many pints of blood to be entirely successful on that front, but the effort was there. “You got us home.”

“I’m pretty sure you did that hoss.”

He shook his head stubbornly, hand gripping tightly at Jack’s. “Couldn’t have done it without you. You always have my back.”

“I always will.”

“Even though you’re pissed at me.”

Jack gave a wet chuckle, feeling a thousand miles from the rage that had boiled in his gut when he learned that Mac and Riley had gone in alone. He was fully intending to hash that out with them both later, but right now he was far too relieved to even think about it. “Even then. Doesn’t matter if we fight man, I’m always gonna be there. You go kaboom, I go kaboom, remember?”

Mac’s smile was exhausted and strained, but it was genuine and it felt like the best thing Jack had seen all day. He was helpless to smile back, ducking to press a kiss to the crown of Riley’s head and anchoring himself in that moment of having them both safe. “I’m so proud of you kids,” he murmured, reverent. “So goddamn proud.”

His partner’s smile didn’t wane, but he’d clearly run out of the necessary energy to keep himself awake; now he’d said what he needed to, he sank bonelessly onto the stretcher and let his eyes slide closed. A moment later, the fingers in Jack’s grip went lax and his breathing evened out into the familiar cadence of sleep. It might have been alarming if the paramedic on the other side of the ambulance did anything more than glance at a monitor and then continue with whatever he’d been doing.

Likewise, Riley’s head had grown steadily heavier on Jack’s shoulder as they spoke and it only took a couple of minutes of soothing his palm up and down her arm for the faintest whistle of a snore to rise from her. An adrenaline crash was a hell of a thing, apparently.

Settled and safe, with the people he cared most about in the world at his side, Jack finally let himself breathe.

[sup-hoes-its-me]

Emotion (Kakashi x Reader)

A/N: Kakashi again...can't get enough of this mans tbh. U r an empath due to your kekkei genkai and Kakashi has always been difficult to read. Friend to lovers. Sharing one bed folks, we got some steamyyy shit here. Angst warning as well.

Word count: 6000

He was always alone. Ever since his childhood, he walked the world completely alone with only a few people there to support him. No mother, no father, no mentor, no teammates. He was at the mercy of fate his entire life, things being stolen from him time and time again. 

He just prayed that he could keep her. Y/N L/N, the only woman to have wormed her way into his heart and made a home there.

When they first met, Kakashi and Y/N, she cursed him for being such a weirdo. Apparently his mind was empty and his heart was seemingly full of sand. He was conditioned that way, and that is how he lived for the longest time. It wasn't a surprise for him to hear that.

But she thought it was stranger than anything she'd ever seen, and so she followed him. She would figure him out, bring him back down to Earth from his supposed high horse. That woman was determined, and frankly he didn't mind her being around. She was quiet enough that it didn't matter. Not to mention on the missions they had together, she was quite the partner.

Over time, she'd learned to read him like a book. It was part of her clan's kekkei genkai. The ultimate empath, I suppose. The ability to read a persons every single emotion and then turn that, if they so choose, into power. 

She was never the greatest fighter, but her negotiation skills were the best they could possibly be. She would dive into the emotions of another and manipulate them backwards and forwards to get what she wanted. 

It was overwhelming, walking into a room of people and immediately being bombarded with so many feelings coming at her all at once. Occasionally, if the situation was bad enough she'd have to take a seat and clear her mind, organizing each person in her mind like a filing cabinet of empathy.

But damn, did she try to weasel out every bit of feeling she could. It was just something that came so naturally, she couldn’t help but instigate whatever was brewing up inside him.

"Kakashi, if you're happy, you know you're allowed to express it. You don't have to hide it away," she told him, staring at the masked man sitting across from her at the table. He was watching as she sharpened her kunai, and she could feel the content running off his body in small bursts. He was feeling better. Better than he had in a little while. Of course she picked up on it.

He sighed, rolling his eyes. She was always reading him, he knew that. He just preferred when she refrained from mentioning it. It did, most times, feel like a bit of an invasion of privacy, how she could deep dive into the corners of his mind. There were things no one else could ever possibly know that she did. It was strange, but he was used to it.

"What? Want me to smile or something?"

"No, but you should let yourself go. Just drop the facade."

"Stop doing that. Getting into my head."

Quietly, she set down her blade and picked up the next one, taking a cloth and softly wiping away any dirt. Her eyes slide up to his for a moment, her all knowing gaze filling his vision. "It's basically impossible. Especially if you're the only one around. There's nothing else to focus on except you." He knew that. It wasn't like she had an on or off switch. That was the downside of this dojutsu. Unlike sharingan and byakugan users, hers was always pulling the strings of her brain.

"You've got that mission next week. With Naruto and a few of the other kids, right?"

"Yes."

"It's A rank, isn't it?"

She hummed in agreement. He had a habit of knowing about all her missions, more importantly being the dangerous ones. He wasn't necessarily scared for her, probably not. He was more cautious than anything. There was this nagging feeling in his head that he shouldn't let her go on these missions alone. That it was too dangerous for her to handle. 

But he was wrong. She was stronger than he thought, and could hold her own in battle. He was just a worrier. He'd just lost too many, seen too many bodies in front of his eyes to trust. God, he wanted to trust her, but he couldn't. She was too vulnerable. His friend, one of the only ones who hadn't died yet. For all he knew, her days numbered, that's how paranoid he was about everything.

"You'll be careful?"

"That's a silly question." He gave her a look that said he was more serious than anything, and she sighed. "Of course I'll be careful. I have people that would miss me if I wasn't." He was one of them. She could sense his fear whenever she said goodbye and his relief when she returned. He really tried to remain objective, but his heart said otherwise. 

And she would be a liar to say that she did not experience the same relief seeing him come home from missions, even if he was beaten and bruised to the bone, she was just happy he made it back. So many never got to come home. It was a sick world, they lived in, but she could relish in the little comforts.

"Don't worry about me. I'll always turn out fine. It's you and your dumb students we have to worry about."

"I hear you. Those kids are enough to drive a person mad." He rested his chin in his palm, the mere thought of those kids causing his blood pressure to rise.

"Thankfully my students never gave me any trouble. Sweet little things."

"Well, aren't you just lucky, Y/N?"

"What can I say? Kurenai and I got the luck of the draw with our students. You men had it rough, I have to admit," she laughed. It was funny that he was so unfortunate to have gotten assigned the Uchiha and the Uzumaki, two completely opposite but persistent forces. "Despite your perverted tendencies and your perpetual lateness, you still did a great job teaching them."

"Thanks. But do you really have to call me a pervert? I'm really not."

"Yeah? That explains why you read porn in public. Admit you're a pervert, you dumb old man."

"We're the same age-" he began to argue, but she just cut him off with her harsh words.

"Creep," she muttered, running the sharpening stone along her blade. He narrowed his eyes. She was being awfully annoying, and he knew she could sense his irritation building up. Yet she continued just to be a pain in the ass.

 He warned, "Hey. Watch it, L/N."

"Okay, okay, I'll stop...Pervert." She ducked her head when his hand reached out to wring her around the neck for being so frustrating, and she continued to laugh. It was nice, having a friend she could joke with and be around without having to worry about what she said. He might pretend to be mad, but she could feel the happiness still rolling off his body thickly under all that fake neutrality. 

He was happier than he'd been in a long while, and she found herself swelling with pride knowing that she might have helped make that happen. Her lips curled into the gentlest of smiles as she peered back up at him, and he found himself smiling back even if it was just through the mask. 

He swore in that moment, he'd make sure Y/N didn't end up like all the others. She would live. He'd break this wretched curse just for her. He was sure of it.

______

"How could you be so reckless?! Do you want to die?" Kakashi shouted at his friend who could only stand there angrily, arms crossed over her chest and one foot in the other direction. She didn't need to be lectured by someone who took just as many risks every single mission as she did.

"Kakashi, I really don't want to hear it. You have no idea how it went."

"Yeah but Naruto does, and we were just talking."

She placed her free hand over her chest and exclaimed even angrier than before, "You're going to trust a kid over me? Naruto even?" It was just low to trust Naruto when she was right there to explain herself. Just let her speak for once, she wanted to say but he of course, had something else to say.

He waved his arm toward the ramen shop, eyes glaring. "Don’t be rude. He's right there. What is wrong with you?"

Indeed, Naruto was sitting inside Ichiraku with Jiraiya at his side, munching on pork ramen while the pair fought outside. Kakashi was eating with them, taking a break from his work to just relax with his master and student when out of the corner of his eye he noticed Y/N stumbling down the street on her crutch. 

He heard when she got back home that she was in the infirmary for a couple days. He had no idea for what reason until Naruto explained to him what happened. She was being needlessly reckless on the battlefield, relying too much on her kekkei genkai and not enough on her brain. She threw herself right in the way of an enemy, for what reason, he didn't know. All he knew was that she could have died and she didn't seem to care one bit.

Rightfully so, he was mad. Normally he preferred not to make a scene in the open like this, but there wasn't anyone else around and he was red-hot.

She huffed. "He knows I don't mean anything bad by that. How could he not? I'm also his sensei, you know."

"Doesn't matter," Kakashi brushed off her words. "What you did was dangerous and you don't seem to care. Next time what are you gonna do? Run right into the arms of the enemy?"

"No, I would never. Kakashi, you're just being a jerk right now. I'm literally injured from the hip down and you have to yell at me? Jeez, just be grateful I'm alive, okay? Things happen," she tried to reason with him, but he didn't acknowledge it. He wasn't exactly feeling all that rational.

"Things don't just happen like that."

She groaned, "Well apparently they do, because it happened to me."

His eye narrowed and she noticed the way he clenched and unclenched his fists a couple times by his sides. Clearly he was just trying to channel his anger, but he really had no reason to be so upset. She hadn't done anything to him. He really needed to relax. "This is so like you L/N's. Always so emotional. Always thinking you're stronger than you actually are."

"Excuse you-"

"Get a grip, you aren't going to live forever."

"First off, don't interrupt me. Second, don't talk about my clan ever again, you hear me, Hatake? We don't live to please your dumbass," she cursed, how dare he say shit about her clan. That asshole. He was just being so...so unlike himself. She had no idea what had gotten into him, but she hated it and just wanted to continue on her way before he said something else stupid. 

Normally, she didn't expect to be bombarded in the street nearly the second she leaves the hospital, but Kakashi never fails to surprise her.

"I've got to go. Don't bother following me." With that, she took off past him, rushing as fast as she could on her crutch, which was pathetically slow. Silently, she cringed at how ridiculous she must look waddling around like this in a fit of rage. Nevermind that. She had better things to do.

He huffed out the breath he had been holding to walk back into the ramen shop, taking his seat beside Naruto and slouching down into the stool. Immediately, Master Jiraiya met his eyes, wisdom about to drip from his tongue once again. "You need to go apologize."

"Why? She clearly doesn't want that right now."

"Well, to start, you insulted her clan which is a big no-no. Imagine saying that to an Uchiha. You're lucky she let you off so easily."

"Yeah, Kakashi. You kinda just attacked her out there in the street," Naruto added.

Jiraiya continued, "Mainly though, the longer you let her stay angry, the worse it'll be for you in the end. Trust me."

"She said don't follow her."

"And you're actually going to listen?" The older man laughed. "You and her fighting reminded me a lot of young Tsunade and I. And let me tell you, you don't just let a woman like that go. I sure did. It’s not a fun time."

"Yeah, Kakashi sensei, go find Y/N."

The jounin stood from his stool and slapped a ramen voucher onto the counter top to pay for his meal. This really didn't seem like a good idea, he had to admit. But he would trust the process. This was the author of his favorite romance series, after all. How could he get something like this wrong? To put blind faith into Jiraiya on realistic romantic matters was probably the not the wisest thing to do, but it was the only thing he had to go on. "I'll go, but this doesn't sound like good advice."

"If you let this go, she's might run into the arms of another man for comfort. Do you want that?"

Tch, there was no way she was gonna do that. She barely had any friends. If anything she would go see Kurenai. Still, he pulled back the cloth at the entrance and muttered, "I gotta catch up to her."

"'Atta boy," Jiraiya cheered, waving off the copy nin. "Another bowl, Naruto?"

"Yes, please!"

Kakashi walked down the streets, looking for the woman he was sent on a mission to find and apologize to. He searched through the shops and the stands for her, walked by her apartment no sign of her. It wasn't until he stumbled by the bookstore that he found her eyeing down the display out front, leaning comfortably on her crutch.

"Y/N," he called to her, and he watched as she tensed up without a second. He caught up to her, walking to stand beside her in front of the store windows. "I need to talk to you."

"What do you want?" She questioned, peering over at him with a quirked brow. He seemed calmed down by now. Thankfully. "Also, didn't I tell you not to follow me?"

"You did, but Jiraiya told me to apologize."

"So this isn't even on your own accord, you're doing it because Jiraiya told you so." He groaned. Of course she would twist his words and find some way to make things bad on his end. She was angry with him, what did he expect to happen? Her to accept him with open arms?

"Listen, I'm sorry for yelling at you. I was just overwhelmed."

"With what? I wasn't paying attention to anything but the anger." She picked at her finger nails in an attempt to remain casual, but really she was just itching to hear what he had to say. She was willing to give him a second chance, only because he was normally so sweet. This was just out of character for him.

He replied, "I was scared for you. Naruto told me about how you nearly died, and I was upset that you did that. I was upset because I could only think about what if you had been overpowered and the enemy killed you." His explanation was weak, but he hoped she would accept it as truth. He really wasn't lying. When he heard she was in the hospital indefinitely, he nearly had a heart attack himself. He worried for her every time she left on a mission without him. It just meant that if she failed, he wasn't there to protect her himself. He couldn't handle that thought.

"So you were worried?"

"Yes."

"Well, that's sweet of you, isn't it?"

"I'd miss you, you know. If you died."

She froze. That wasn't what she expected him to say. When she looked over at him, he was just staring into the storefront window, but she could feel the sadness in waves running off his body. She wobbled around on her crutch to face him, a hand getting coming up to rest on his shoulder. "It's okay."

"I don't want you going on missions without me because every time it scares the shit out of me thinking they'll bring you back dead. Every time. I don't know why."

"It's normal to worry for your teammates."

"It's not the same, and you know it."

"Ah." And she felt it. Even if it was just a little hint of something, she felt his infatuation roll off his body and she took it in like a drink of cold water. So refreshing. Was he attracted to her? She had no idea before this that he cared so much but from the sound of it, he had some strong feelings attached. She wanted to reach out and hug him, tell him it was going to be okay, but that felt too personal. Instead, she leant back and muttered, "You know, Kakashi, I worry about you too."

"It's good we both have someone who cares, right?"

"Right."

"Well, I should be on my way, but, uh, if you need some help getting up to your apartment-"

"I should be fine."

"Okay, good."

"Yeah, so uh, see you," she turned on her heel and started heading in the other direction toward her home when suddenly, his hand reached out to stop her. 

"Wait, Y/N. I think..."

"What is it?"

"It's just that I need you. Please be careful from now on."

She stopped, turning around just enough to get a good look at his face. He only watched her, a glimmer of something she didn't recognize in his eye. 

"As long as you take care of yourself too, Mister."

"Y/N, I…"

All she could feel was a rough fabric rubbing against her face for a second before the full picture came into view. 

Mask to lips. I repeat, mask to lips.

She stared at him, as he kissed her right there in front of their favorite bookstore. When he pulled away after a second, he seemed just as shocked as she was. She pressed a hand to her forehead and struggled to find the right words to say. 

Kakashi Hatake just kissed her. 

And she definitely liked it. More than any other kiss she’d ever had before. She loved it. Mask or not, that was one of the best surprises of her entire life, and she honestly had no idea how to react. She settled for the easiest possible thing, running in the opposite direction, give herself time to think over what that meant for the two of them if anything at all. Kakashi wasn’t the type to have a girlfriend, he was always single. There just wasn’t room in his life for her.

There was plenty room in her life to fit him in comfortably. And there was more than enough room in her bed as well. 

Flustered, with heat coming to sit in her cheeks and run up her neck, she turned and motioned in the direction of her home. She just had too many thoughts to sit here and pretend she wasn’t dying inside from the tension.

"I've got to run home now," she managed to say. "Well, not run, with these crutches and all, but you know what I mean."

"Yeah, I should be going too. I'll see you around,” he mumbled, running his hand through his hair and down the back of his neck. 

"See you."

And into separate directions they went, just as confused as ever.

______

"Kakashi, I swear to God, if you don't stay on your side of the bed, I'm gonna-

"You'll what? Hit me? Go ahead. You're the one that keeps snoring."

"Shut up!" she exclaimed, rolling over in the bed and planting her fist directly in the middle of his chest. He didn't even flinch, she hadn't meant to hurt him anyway. She was just so annoyed. You would think that the stoic Hatake would be easy to sleep beside but no, he was a pain in the ass. He was rude. He was way too hot under the sheets. He still smelled like dog even after taking a bath. Just overall a bad experience, definitely 0 out of 10.

"What? It's the truth."

She groaned, throwing one of her arms over her eyes, burying her nose in the crook of her elbow. "Whatever. Don't ever mention my snoring again. It’s embarrassing me." She was self-conscious. She was usually so good at maintaining a cool and calm presence and now Kakashi was seeing that all crumble. Great. 

"Fine."

"Can't you just stay on your side so we can both sleep comfortably?"

"Can't you just stop snoring so I can sleep comfortably?" 

What a bastard. She could practically feel him snickering beneath his mask, and she felt frustration bubbling up in her chest. He was annoying. The audacity of this man, laughing and causing trouble in the night when they clearly had a mission to continue tomorrow. She could actually feel the delight radiating off his form.

She jumped up from her spot and threw herself onto the man beside her, attempting to make a vicious grab for the throat so she could maybe shut him up for just a few seconds. He dodged easily, taking her wrists in his calloused hand and lowering them to rest on his chest. Still, he continued to laugh at her. She felt like an utter joke sitting there on his stomach, looking at him through loose strands of her hair. 

She grumbled under her breath, her cheeks puffing out full of embarrassment, "Stupid."

"Me? Stupid? Look at you."

She replied swiftly, "What about me? You're the one with that ugly grin on your face." Quickly, she snatched her hands out from under his to cross her arms over her chest. She rocked back a bit on her knees to get a better look at his indeed ugly face. 

Except he definitely wasn't ugly, and that grin was more devilishly handsome than anything else. And honestly, she felt herself starting to get flustered in the position she'd put herself in. Of course she didn't hate Kakashi. He was one of her friends and coworkers. It was just that sometimes he could be casually attractive and she found herself falling under his spell. 

He just looked so fucking good lying there, staring up at her with a glimmer in his dark eyes. She could see the smile outlined under his mask. His hands had felt warm and firm around her own fingers. She missed his touch, there she said it, any touch on her body from Kakashi Hatake felt like heaven. He was far too cute, and the soft contact between them drove her crazy.

She wanted to punch herself for thinking such silly things. This was Kakashi, one of her frenemies. Not boyfriend material. Stupid. Silly. 

If only he didn't look so good, Jesus christ. Get your brain out of the gutter, Y/N.

Little did she know, his mind was already waist deep in those damn gutters and he was loving it.

"You really think that?"

"What? That you're ugly?" She asked, tilting her head to the side just a bit as if to think about it. Only a second later, another mischievous smile crossed her lips. "Of course."

He lifted his fingers to slid along her waist and down to her hips, fingers curling ever so slightly around her curves. She shuddered as his hands slid down to hold the sides of her bare thighs in his hands, his warm, strong hands with the softest fingertips. She wanted to die.

Had they kissed before? Yes. We're they somewhat romantically involved? Maybe. Did that give him any good reason to rest his rough hands on her thighs like that? Probably, and her thoughts were running a mile a minute at this point. 

"Kakashi...stop that," she said softly, her voice lowering from how it was before. She suddenly felt a lot smaller, scared even. Hooking up with Kakashi wasn't something she planned on doing anytime in the near future, if at all. He was her friend, and she felt strange sitting in his lap with his hands all over her. It felt so right but wrong at the same time, like she was breaking the law. Well, laws of friendship that is.

She cared about Kakashi, more than she wanted to admit. He wasn't just a friend, he was something weirdly in between and she couldn't exactly put her finger on how she felt about him. All she knew was that if she was going to have sex with this man, it would be the right way. They would have to date first. She wasn't just gonna sleep around this time. He was different. 

She wanted to impress him, to make him smile and laugh, to take him out to dinner and hold hands on their way home, to kiss at her doorstep. She wanted all of that before any of this.

His hands dropped from her sides and she crawled away from him, grabbing her blanket and cradling herself in it. "Listen, Y/N, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

"I know, it's not your fault. Don't worry about it."

It was quiet. Just the sounds of both their breaths filling the air and the crickets chirping in the darkness outside. She shifted in her blanket to rest her head on the wall, leaning against it with her shoulder. He remained on his back, staring up at the empty ceiling tiles. 

It was now so terribly awkward. Thanks, Y/N.

Finally, he broke the silence. "You, uh, don't snore all that much. I was just teasing you."

"Thanks," she exhaled. "You're not as ugly as I said."

"I know."

Wow, Kakashi. So modest.

Her words fell right into place as she spoke, emotions slipping out with each breath. She looked at his profile in the dark, the way his bedhead stood on end, his nose pointed upward and his lips sat calmly, the curve of his chin under the edge of his mask, the way his eyes just sat there unmoving and gentle, brows soft above the eye. She took in all of him as she confessed, "I just don't want it to be like this. I don't want to fall for you this way."

"I get it."

"I just think that you and I could be something different. You're not like the other guys to me, at least, I don't think of you that way," she took a deep breath. He still stared deep in the ceiling, and somehow it made her comfortable enough to confess everything she'd been feeling. It was as if he could just lay there and listen without words forever. "I don't want you to just fuck me before we really...well I don't know, we've never even been on a date. I...I think I'm ready to fall in love with you."

"Then let's do it."

She peered over at him, lips agape with surprise. She hadn't expected much at all, but certainly not that. "What?"

"When we get back to the village, I'll take you on a date, more if things go well. We can take it as slow as you want," he told her, turning to lay on his side, facing her. He watched as she cuddled further into the comforter, only a peek of her face in his view. She was actually kinda cute through all those worn and torn layers. "I don't think I can let you go this time."

"Really?"

"Anything for you."

She ducked her head down to stare at the hardwood beneath her feet. She was overwhelmed by how nice he was being. Normally, it didn't go like this. Things normally got sexual so quick there wasn't even a chance for these sorts of conversations. It was just different with Kakashi. She could say no to him and expect better, because she knew he could deliver. "No one has ever treated me like this before."

He smiled. "Well, it's about time someone did."

"Can you hold me?"

"Come on." He lifted his arm up with the covers attached so she could crawl over and burrow herself next him, tucked right against his side. He rested his arm around her shoulders and held her close to his chest. Things were looking good for the both of them. Better than they had in a long time.

He wished this kind of thing could last forever. The beating of her heart, the laughter in her voice, the shine in her eyes. He just wished he could have bottled it all up and held it close to him for the rest of his life. 

But he waited too long, and the opportunity slipped from his grasp.

______

The pair fought hard. Kakashi was better than her, everyone knew that. The enemy targeted her for that reason. It was clear as day that she was important to Kakashi, and the enemy quickly caught onto that. He was quick to bring the knife to her neck, pressing the woman’s back tightly to his chest. The blade stung her skin, already piercing the flesh from the bit of pressure he applied.

She cried out, feeling a trail of blood begin running down her neck. Her nails clawed at his arm, desperate to get him to release her from his clutches, but he persisted. One hand held onto her chin tightly, keeping her face from thrashing, and the other continued to apply more and more pressure into the blade. 

For the first time in a long time, she found herself feeling unrestricted fear. She was scared. Scared for her life. She’d never been in this situation before, feeling so completely and utterly helpless like a deer caught in the headlights. Kakashi was right there, she should have known everything was going to be okay. After all, she had the village’s strongest veteran on her side.

It wasn’t the pain that caused the tears to bubble up in the corners of her eyes, no, it was Kakashi. The way his eyes darted over to the them, and she could feel his heart beginning to race, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end, and the fear creeping up into his heart. He never wore his heart on his sleeve. He was so closed off, sometimes she could only get a wisp of emotion from him, especially the ones that showed such vulnerability. 

Now it all seemed to come tumbling out like a landslide. She was drowning in fear, his and her own. 

“Let her go,” he called out, practically pleading with the man across from him, but it was in vain. 

“Like I’d listen to some filthy leaf shinobi,” the spy replied angrily. He felt so hot, burning up with so much anger she wanted to throw up. What had they done to upset him this badly? Her jaw was starting to ache from being held so tightly, and she swore she could taste blood running down her throat. This was bad. This was so terribly, miserably bad. 

Kakashi stood there, his hands hovering at his sides, unknowing of what to do. She was already bleeding out all over the collar of her shirt. If he made a single move, the man could easily finish the job with one fatal swipe. The copy nin felt cornered. Hopeless. What was there left to do? He’d let the love of his life fall in the hands of some petty criminal. 

Come on, think of something. Anything. Just think of something.

“What? You upset I’ve got your little girlfriend here?”

God, he was so desperate. The man taunting him didn’t help at all. He just felt himself spiralling deeper into hopelessness. He bargained, “Please, just let her go. I’ll give you whatever you want.” 

It wouldn’t work though. This man was set in his ways, and there was no changing that. He came into this fight knowing exactly what he wanted to do. And he was going to finish the job. 

“This is for what you shinobi have done to my people,” he sneered before she felt the knife dip further into her neck, sliding painfully across her throat. He dropped her head from his grasp, and as soon as he had, her body crumbled down to the ground. She collapsed in a bleeding heap on the dirt. 

The criminal quickly ran into the forest behind them, getting lost among the trees and the bushes within seconds. None of that mattered though. Kakashi could only run over to her limp body lying there on the ground, sputtering and coughing on thick blood filling her throat and lungs. Her cheeks and lips painted red now from spitting so much up. He fell to his knees beside her body, and for the first time in a long time, he felt a tear drip down his face.

She cried, hot tears running down her cheeks into the dirt on either side of her head. She cried for her pathetic self, having been attacked and injured in this way. She cried for Kakashi, feeling the pain and sadness, the panic, radiating off his form. She took in every emotion he was feeling, wanting to savor being with him for as long as she had, to fully take him in one last time. 

“Y/N, it’s gonna be okay,” he whispered, his hands running over her hair and cheek, smearing blood on her skin and his fingers. “We’ll bring you back to the village. The Hokage can fix you.” His words were so soft into the air, like if he spoke any louder he would hurt her.

They both knew that none of what he was saying was true. She was as good as dead.

She lifted her hand weakly to sit on his other hand. “I…” The woman took a labored breath.. “Love you, Kashi.”

“No, no, no. Don’t say that,” he hushed her, feeling his heart grow heavier in his chest with every second that passed, every look at her bloody neck and face, her laboring chest as she took hopeless breaths. He was falling apart in this moment, desperate for fate to change, for her to magically be better. He choked, “You can’t die, Y/N.”

“It’s okay.” Her words were slurred and hard to hear, liquid bubbling up in her throat to the point she was almost incomprehensible. “I love you,” she confessed once again. She wanted those to be her last ever words to him, the words he would remember for the rest of his life. To know someone out there loved him more than anything else.

He had to know that he was her everything. He was the best thing that ever happened to her, and she was going to miss him so terribly wherever her soul went after this. She just wished there was more time to tell him everything she felt. Yet, time was passing faster than she thought, and all those words felt impossible.

“I love you, too. You have to live for me. Just keep breathing, it's going to be okay.”

“It...hurts.”

More misery erupted his chest, and he found himself wanting to scream. Tears dripped steadily down both his cheeks now as he watched this woman die in front of him, one of the only people he truly needed in his life. “I know, baby, I know. I’m sorry I let this happen to you.”

She nodded faintly, her eyes beginning to close. He was starting to panic. Was this his last moment to say goodbye? Their time together was so short, how was this fair? He’d already lost everyone he ever cared about, and now this? He felt like the gods were laughing down at him and his misfortune. 

“You were the best thing that ever happened to me. I don’t know how I’ll do this without you.”

She didn’t respond, but she was still breathing. 

“Y/N, please.”

And he watched as her chest fell still and her labored breaths were silent on his ears. He found himself gathering her form up against his chest, her head cradled in the crook of his neck, just sobbing into her hair, weeping for a long lasting love gone in an instant. 

 He carried her body home that day himself. Something he never anticipated happening, but should have prepared for. He always thought he was going to watch as someone else carried her home to him, death long gone before he had the chance to see. He never thought it would be right in front of him. He thought he could protect her, save her from the clutches of fate. He was so wrong.

Kakashi was alone once again.

[yandere-sins]

Ayo mind if I request some Mermaid Korekiyo x pirate reader? I crave for some more good Kiyo content 😌

Absolutely! Thanks for requesting ♥

»»———————— ♡ ————————««     

♡ There has always been something drawing Korekiyo to the world of humans. If not for the predicament that his tail makes it impossible, he would have roamed the land as much as he could since his heart is so fascinated with what he can’t have. Even if he happened to come across corpses after a shipwreck every now and then, his curiosity could only be stilled in terms of learning their bodies. However, their ways of thinking and communicating are still beyond his grasp.

♡ He even took risks to further his knowledge, approaching harbors and swimming with ships. However, almost always, he was met with fear or anger from the humans. Knowing how his species approaches them, he could understand a little why they’d be so reluctant to be in his presence. If only there was a better way to learn about them, but until he finds it, Kiyo keeps watching them from afar.

♡ Until, one day, the pirate ship he had been observing is caught by the royal navy, bringing it down to the ground of the sea. Korekiyo knows what that means - more dead bodies - and is devastated that all the humans he had been watching talk, work, and celebrate together are now perishing between the waves. He’d have almost turned and left without seeing the aftermath, not feeling like watching the humans being eaten by seafolk, when he notices an unusual trash, a body desperately clinging on to a piece of wood and gasping for air.

♡ Part of him tells Kiyo not to do it. That there’s nothing good that can come from approaching this person. He can hear his late sister - killed by her own curiosity for humans - telling him in the back of his mind that the human won’t thank him, and the other mermaids aren’t going to approve of it, and who knows, it might all be in vain if the human dies anyway. But he also knows that if he doesn’t do it, that poor human won’t even have a peaceful death when he gets ripped apart by fish or Kiyo’s kin. This chance is as good as any to get closer to his dreams of learning about the humans he so admires.

♡ Thus he approaches, and he wouldn’t have expected any less than the human looking at him fearfully, using their limbs to get away from him. He can see it in their eyes. He can see himself in their eyes. Reflections are rare to recognize for the seafolks, but they seem clearer than anything in the human’s eyes. He lifts them away from the wood they cling to, hearing the calls of his tribe. Taking off, he does his best to keep them above water, but they struggle to not drink enormous amounts of saltwater, clinging on to Kiyo in a desperate attempt of not drowning. And Kiyo? Kiyo notices just how warm they are, even after being in the water for so long.

♡ He sets them off on a lonely island, returning to the water after Kiyo pushes them - coughing and cursing - onto the sandy beach. They only briefly turn to him, asking a question. It takes some time until Kiyo can put together the meaning from his insufficient knowledge of their language. However, even so, he can’t answer their, “Why did you help me?” and sinks back deeper into the sea, frustrated that his first encounter with a human... isn’t going as well as he had hoped. He showed them his goodwill, but it might not be enough, the human staying wary as they get up and bolt away, hiding away further on the island where they know Kiyo can’t reach them, and it frustrates him all the more.

♡ But the island stops at some point. Running won’t get them far away. Worried, Korekiyo circles the landmass, only receiving more and more horrified stares from the human until he can’t take it anymore. He leaves them alone for the first night, but he comes back with fish for the human when the sun starts rising. It takes a while to gain trust, but Kiyo had waited for this chance all his life, so he can wait a little longer. Once the human seems to relax a little more at the sight of him, Kiyo starts bringing more things, medicine at first, showing how to apply it, almost too eager to do it himself and scaring the human again. Then, Kiyo starts bringing gadgets, things he collected over the years from the human world. With only Kiyo around them, the human starts opening up a bit, and soon enough, they start teaching him simple words and their meaning.

♡ They learn the human language day in, day out, Kiyo constantly repeating these words wherever he goes. With him being an eager learner, he is quick to pick it up on a level they can speak sentences with each other. Kiyo has things he never imagined opening up for him. The human was a pirate and their foes the navy. Pirates aren’t good, but the navy isn’t good for them either. It feels like one of the stories the older mermaids kept telling the young ones, but this is real no matter how fairytale-esque it appears to be. But with words, there are also emotions and longings that Kiyo can’t understand yet. Still, the human keeps telling him they need help from Kiyo to go back to the cities - home as they call it, and Kiyo starts to question what this would mean for the merman who finally has it all.

♡ Thus the lies start. He knows they are lies because the human told him what lies are. “It’s too far.” and “There are too many dangers.” These words keep the human satisfied for a while, but skepticism rises almost as quickly. But Kiyo realizes that without him, the human can’t do anything. Instead, they tell Korekiyo of their family, their darling lover at home, and how love feels, hoping Kiyo might start to understand. However, even if the human tells him, Kiyo never tried to make his human understand how the merfolk lives. There is nothing to compare and no emotions like the human ones, down there in the water. And so the days continue, survivor’s guilt and depression catching up to the poor human stranded on the island with only a mermaid to keep them company.

♡ One day, Kiyo catches them crying, trying to hide it when the mermaid approaches and laughing it off. He has never seen water spilling from their or anyone’s eyes before, a fascinating process indeed. Kiyo climbs on the beach, approaching them until his body mass overwhelms the human pinned under him. Even if he is selfish, even if he can’t be that family or home the human talks about, Kiyo begins to understand the meaning of some of the feelings the human has been telling him about. Especially the ones that make him want to not let go of them, not lose them again like all the other failed attempts of approaching humans, not give them back to anyone else like their darling partner.

♡ As if to clean a wound, he uses his tongue to make the tears vanish, hoping that the pain he can see on the human’s face will disappear as well. Salt on his taste buds, the warmth of the human and their beating heart beneath him, and his own reflection in the human’s eyes - they are all way too special to pass up on. Even if uncomfortableness spreads all through his human, Kiyo is only now realizing how much more there is to explore. More expressions, more feelings, more words! They can’t leave him yet, after all... after all, they might be his ‘darling’. His darling human. Even if it is all a risk for both of them, this almost sounds too good to be true, right? Like a story to tell the young mermaids in the future. One, only Kiyo will be able to tell the end off.

[writing-in-april]

Training wheels

Spencer Reid x Gender Neutral Reader

Summary: Years later after Spencer teaches Reader to drive even though he hates driving, Reader becomes good enough to ride a motorcycle they get him to come along on a ride.

A/N: hey heyyyy- this is my seventeenth fic for my 30 fics in 30 days for April! This fic is based on this request- which I decided to make smutty instead of full on smut so I could make it a bit more fluffy. Disclaimer- I know nothing about motorcycles and I can’t even drive lol so sorry for the lack of terminology. This ended up being gender neutral- I checked it over for the correct pronouns a few time but I could have missed something- please let me know if so! Feel free to give me your response by sending something to my inbox here. Thanks for reading and hope y’all enjoy.

Warnings: 18+- (if you are found to be violating this I will tell writers who you are), no full on smut- in the smutty/spicy category, a bit of grinding, implications about having sex in the future, In public sexual teasing (who’s fucking surprised), hints at Sub!Spencer, A few swear words

Main Masterlist Word Count: 2.0k

Spencer hated driving. He always shook whenever he couldn’t stop the racing thoughts about the dangers of moving vehicles. He knew he was a good driver, but it was easier for him to trust the metro which stayed on its tracks (most of the time). A car with no rigid path and with so many variables just made Spencer’s mind race too much.

You were the only person that could get him to get into a car, without any sort of coercion. At his job he had accepted it as a reality of his situation; there was no way that he could get around it. He agreed to teach you how to drive to your job, which happened to be where you had met him. You ran a small thrift store just walking distance from your apartment. There had been no need to drive anywhere, until you opened up another branch on the other side of town.

You had met Spencer there, he had come in at night, just before close. He shopped around for a few sweater vests and cardigans until you had told him that you needed to close. His mumbled apology had been so cute you remember it to this day.

When he noticed that you walked home in the same direction as his, he offered to keep you company. At first you thought he had done it out of guilt since he made you stay late, until you realized he liked your presence. It was not a romantic relationship (not yet at least), you both didn’t kiss or anything, but you did love to tease him.

He cared about you, and you about him, which is why he eagerly offered to teach you to drive when you mentioned that you were scared to learn with an instructor. You preferred to be taught by someone who you knew and knew was a good driver. Spencer was just that, even with jittery fingers and tapping feet.

Since then you had become a great driver, good enough that you felt confident indulging in one of your dreams. You had always wanted a motorcycle, the wind blowing in your face and the freeing quality it had, had always made you desire one. Despite Spencer’s protests about the potential for even more safety hazards than a car you still indulged your dream, confident in your skills that Spencer had laid the foundation with his excellent teaching skills even while slightly fearful.

You had taken to it like a fish to water, it had been even easier than when you had Spencer teach you. Now it was the time to show the master how the apprentice approved, though you highly doubted Spencer liked to be called a master at driving. More like a teacher, a nervous one.

It did take some convincing for him to agree to ride on your motorcycle with you.Somehow, through gentle persuasion throughout the last few months, you had done it. He had prefaced it saying that it would be the only time it would ever happen, and you made it your goal to change his opinion. You highly doubted he’d ever want to drive it, which was fair considering he couldn’t stop the thoughts of statistics about safety in his head. You hoped though, that maybe he’d like riding with you.

“Is it safe?” Was his first question as soon as he arrived at your small thrift store you owned, jittery with nerves.

“Well- hello to you too.” You sassed cocking your hip to the side while holding your helmet in the small of your waist. He blushed bashfully, then finally said hello before you assured him, “I wouldn’t be bringing you if it wasn’t safe- I wouldn’t be driving it if it wasn’t safe.”

“Ok- I trust you.” He relaxed a little, though he was obviously still nervous.

To cheer him up a little you pivoted the conversation onto a more jovial topic, “Will you wear a leather jacket?”

“Maybe next time- if you convince me to get on the death trap again.” It was rare to see Spencer tease you back, but you thoroughly enjoyed it.

Quipping back you said, “Maybe I could get you to drive it too”

“I think I’d need training wheels for that.” A snort came out of you at that; it was funny imagining Spencer riding a motorcycle with bicycle training wheels.

“That would be a sight to see.” You swung your leg on to mount the vehicle, ready to take him on a spin. You then prompted him while getting your helmet on, “Come on pretty boy, let’s do this- and get that helmet on.”

He was a little nervous just going by the shaking in his palms, but he still put the helmet on and climbed on- albeit a bit awkwardly.

He wrapped his hands around your waist snugly when you roared the motorcycle to life. Whenever you had to break he clenched tighter, maybe not enough to leave bruises, but enough that it would be implanted in your memory for a good long while. You couldn’t see him, but you could feel him.

You could tell he had slowly relaxed a little bit more even while keeping a strong grip on you as you made your looped path charted out in your head. Starting at your store and ending at your store, it was longer than maybe it should have been, considering Spencer’s grip on you had made your arousal spark to life.

You soon realized you weren’t the only one enjoying this, feeling something slightly stiff as Spencer shifted slightly at a red light. Oh, he was enjoying it. His cock confined in his pants was growing harder as the journey progressed.

“Did you have fun?” You questioned just as you pulled back into where you started, even though you already knew he did.

He squeaked out a measly, “Yeah!”

You smirked again, out of sight from his face. Biting your inner cheek in thought, you contemplated whether or not to act on it. It would be so easy to just swivel your hips and begin to grind down on his erection that had been pressing into you during the whole ride.

Fuck it, this might be one of your only chances to make a move. You tilted your hips just a smidge, leaning back just a little into him. You heard a hitch in his breath, his hands he had around you tightening back around you, pulling you in closer.

He whimpered when you sat back a little more, testing the waters just a little further. When he himself rolled his own hips once you had to ask, “Do you want me to keep going, Spencer? Do you want this?”

His helmeted head dropped into the crook of your neck, nodding into it as he began to rock into you a little. You gripped around the handles that you were still holding, all you had done was break so far. You were both in broad daylight perched on top of the vehicle. Turning your head as much as you could when you realized he hadn’t verbally responded you prompted sharply, “I need you to speak up, pretty boy. Do you want this?”

“Yes!” He gasped quickly at your prompt.

You then ground yourself back onto his bulge, rotating yourself slowly to feel the torturous friction. The fact that your bottom halves were still clothed only made it even more devastating. No one was around as it was the weekend, when you weren’t open and no one was really around. You still tried to stifle any noises you were tempted to make as his own hips started to undulate into your own.

A person could round the corner and immediately see two people grinding like teenagers onto each other. You both may have been completely closed, but it was quite obvious what you were both doing.

The extra friction you were getting was building a burning orgasm in you, the noises you had been trying to hold back were too hard to stifle. A moan came out of your mouth when Spencer moved down his hands from your waist to the outside of your hips, pulling you down on him with even more ferocity.

When his phone then began to ring you both let out a groan, your hips stopping any movement you had been making over his hard bulge. He reluctantly pulled out his ringing and buzzing ancient phone. Which you would normally find endearing that he carried around somewhat arcane technology, but your weaning arousal was wanting you to smash it on the ground.

“Hello? Hotch?” You groaned, knowing exactly what this meant. There was no way this was going to go further tonight, Hotch wasn’t calling him on the weekend just for paperwork. He was about to leave for a case.

You ripped your helmet off of your head out of frustration while he continued to talk. Grumbling while wiping the sweat that had started to accumulate, Spencer chattering away quickly at Hotch telling him he’ll be there in about ten minutes.

When he got off the phone he began to stammer in apology, this was the only time I’d ever want to cut him off, “There’s no need to apologize- go catch a bad guy.”

“Thank you- and thanks for-r the ride and- um the other thing… I’ve got to go now, I’ll uh- talk to you later.” He then awkwardly shuffled off, trying to conceal his obvious bulge even though you were the only one around to see it.

When he got into his car, you were happy he had brought it for once. You wouldn’t have let him walk all the way to his office from here, and you would have had to drive him with his bulge pressing into your ass again.

“I’m gonna need a cold shower.” You added, mumbled underneath your back as you put your helmet back on, ready to drive back to your apartment to hopefully freeze your frustration away.

—-

The next time you saw him- about a week later, a little blush immediately graced his cheeks, probably thinking about what happened last time. You kissed his cheek and felt how hot they had gotten just by being in his presence. He was here again, early this time, ready for you to open up your shop for the day.

“You’ve got to wait 30 minutes until you can buy something, I don’t open till then,” You then flashed a smirk towards him, he might die from being overheated if you kept teasing him. Still, you continued to do it, “Can’t be seen to show you any favors, pretty boy. Then everyone would want one.” As soon as the keys turned to unlock you didn’t open the door right away, instead turning back to face him. He fidgeted even more underneath your direct gaze, also averting his eyes. You let go of your hold on the keys, bit your lip and added, “Though, I think you’d be the only one I’d want to be my favorite.

He stuttered a bit at that, before changing the subject, “Um- I came here to actually thank you for last week… I had a lot of fun.”

You then cocked your head to the side in question, “Didn’t you already thank me last time?”

“Yeah.” He responded meekly, clearing his throat a few times while he collected his thoughts. “Can we finish what we started?”

You beamed, as it had been exactly what you were hoping for. You made your way back over to him, this time to pull him by the front of his shirt to press a steaming kiss to his lips. He moaned, letting your tongue run over his teeth a few times before you deepened it further. You were panting by the time you released him, but worked through the gasping breaths to answer verbally now, “Of course- come inside with me. If you won’t go on another ride with me after this while wearing a leather jacket, I’ve got a leather jacket you can wear while I ride you.”

Ask Me Anything

—-

Tag lists (fill out this form to join):

All Works: @shotarosleftpinky @90spumkin @kyra-morningstar @spenxerslut @boxofsparklingmuses @katexrichardson@takeyourleap-of-faith

All MGG characters: @muffin-cup @willowrose99 @princesssmooshie @peterpanouat @anaagraceeberr @ashcakes1918 @reid-me-a-story @cosmic-psychickitty

Spencer Reid/CM: @calm-and-doctor @destiny-tsukino @safertokiss @spenxerslut @onlyhereforthefanfics @jareauswifey @princesssmooshie @peterpanouat

Sub Spencer: @thatsonezesty13 @pastathighs @virtualpeanutartisanjudge @calm-and-doctor @princesssmooshie @peterpanouat

[sisterspooky1013]

Only One Choice, Part 2, Chapter 14

Read it here on AO3 / Tagging @today-in-fic

“It was so good to see you, Will,” Valerie says in a muffled voice against his chest as he has her wrapped up tightly in a bear hug.

“I know, I’m so glad I ran into you,” Mulder replies, brushing his hands over her back. He pulls away and kisses her softly on the cheek.

“It makes me really happy to see you so happy,” she says with a smile, her long brunette hair lifting softly in the breeze, brown eyes holding affection that can only be held between two people who have the type of bond that can withstand a breakup and then a transition from lovers to friends.

“Likewise,” he says, nodding towards the small swell of her growing belly.

“I’d love to meet your girlfriend someday, if you think she’d be okay with that,” she says, collecting her purse.

“Yes, I’d really like that. I think you two would get along really well, actually,” he says, and she smirks at him.

“You’re not afraid we’ll bond over having to sit through your shitty movie collection?” she teases, and he laughs good-naturedly.

“Hey, Scully likes my shitty movies, that’s why we’re a perfect match,” he retorts.

She squeezes his arm.

“Call me sometime, okay?”

He nods and watches her walk away, feeling like he’s on cloud nine. A great friendship with his ex-girlfriend, a promising new love with the woman of his dreams; he can only imagine what lies in store next. He practically skips on the walk back to his car, wondering if Scully might let him come by tonight, hoping that he won’t have to wait until the weekend to see her again. He decides to call her as soon as he gets home.

The first few times he gets her machine, he assumes she must be at her mother’s. When she still hasn’t answered or called back by 9:00 pm, he’s confused. When he emails her the next morning and still hasn’t gotten a response at 10:00am, he’s officially worried.

Something is wrong.

———

She had eventually turned off the ringer on her phone and put the volume all the way down on her answering machine so she wouldn’t have to hear his increasingly obsessive attempts to get ahold of her, then slept fitfully all night.

She knows that she needs to give him some kind of response or he’ll show up on her doorstep, but she can’t bring herself to face him, even in voice. Every time the image of him with that woman pops back into her head, she feels a lump form in her throat immediately, a sick sadness welling in her belly. She’s pored over every memory in her mind, every interaction they’ve had, searching for signs. Signs that he was seeing someone else, that he wasn’t interested in anything other than getting in her pants, that he was lying to her. Her thorough inventory brings up next to nothing, which almost makes it worse; how adept he must have been at creating a false reality for her to exist in. Perhaps he’s garnered some tips from the sociopaths he studies, or maybe his background in psychology allowed him to manipulate her.

When she arrives at work, she is unsurprised though still dismayed to see an email waiting for her.

From: fmulder@fbi.gov

Sent: May 5, 1997 7:57 am

To: dscully@fbi.gov

Subject: Where are you?

Scully, you’re freaking me out. Are you okay? Please respond.

She deletes it immediately and tries to focus on work. She performs an autopsy and teaches a class, both welcome distractions from her emotional torment. Just before 11:00 am, the phone rings.

“Autopsy bay, this is Trudy…yep, she’s here, one second.”

Trudy turns and opens her mouth to speak, but sees Dana waving her arms and shaking her head. She makes a confused face and puts the phone back to her ear.

“Oh, actually she just stepped out, sorry. Can I take a message?”

She watches as Trudy scribbles something on a piece of paper.

“Uh huh…yes. Okay, I’ll tell her…you have my word.”

She replaces the phone on the receiver and hands Dana the paper with a sympathetic frown.

“Trouble in paradise?” she asks rhetorically.

Dana looks down and deciphers Trudy’s messy scrawl.

Call Mulder immediately. Send a sign of life.

She crumples it up and tosses it into the trash can.

“You wanna talk about it?” Trudy asks.

“Nope,” Dana replies, turning back to the computer.

From: fmulder@fbi.gov

Sent: May 5th, 1997 11:03am

To: dscully@fbi.gov

Subject: PLEASE RESPOND

Scully, I don’t know what the hell is going on, but if you don’t reply to this within an hour I’m driving down there.

Please respond

She feels fresh tears well in her eyes. Why is he trying so hard if he’s seeing someone else anyway? Why is he doing this to her? With a surge of anger, she hits reply.

From: dscully@fbi.gov

Sent: May 5th, 1997 11:05am

To: fmulder@fbi.gov

Subject: RE:PLEASE RESPOND

I’m fine, Mulder. Please just give me some space.

With that she closes her email, begs someone to take her second class of the day, and goes home.

———

He feels like he’s stepped into an alternate universe. He’d left her happy and satisfied, and out of nowhere she’s shutting him out. What does she need space for? Space from him? Why? Did he come on too strong and freak her out? He thought they’d moved past that. He picks up the phone again.

“Autopsy bay, this is Trudy.”

“Trudy, it’s Agent Mulder again. Look, I don’t want to put you in an awkward position, but is Dana there?”

She pauses. “No, she went home for the day. She seemed pretty upset.”

“Do you have any idea why?” he implores.

“No, other than the fact that it seems to be directed at you.”

“Yeah, that much I gathered. Thanks, Trudy, sorry to bother you.”

“No worries, good luck.”

He slams the phone down, grabs his jacket off the back of his chair and leaves.

———

She is half expecting his knock, but it still makes her jump, nearly causing her to spill her wine. She wants to just ignore him until he goes away, but she knows his proclivity towards persistence won’t let him do that. Better to just get it over with, she thinks as she slumps towards the door.

The second she lays eyes on him in his slacks and dress shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and his tie discarded, she feels her chin pucker and tears threaten her eyes. As angry as she is, she immediately wants to go to him, to curl up within his embrace so he can comfort her. The problem is, what she needs comforting from is him.

“What is going on?” he says with a mix of frustration and fear.

She stands in the open doorway, not making space for him to enter.

“I saw you,” she says, her voice strained with emotion.

“You saw me...what?” he asks, his face a mask of confusion.

She lifts her chin, clenching her jaw and summoning strength.

“I saw you with her. Yesterday, at the Bluebird Cafe. After I had lunch with my family.” her voice holds steady, anger carrying her through.

His face falls and her gut twists. She wishes she didn’t have to watch this.

“THAT is what this is about?” he asks, but there’s no shame or regret in his voice. If anything, he sounds a little mad.

She nods curtly.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” he spits out, and she recoils a little at his vitriol. “Let me in, Scully. Right now,” he demands, and against her better judgement she moves aside.

He pushes past her into the apartment and she closes the door softly, leaving it unlocked in case either of them decides to make a hasty exit.

“Did you consider,” he begins, his back to her, “maybe, I don’t know, asking me about what you saw?” He turns to face her, one hand on his hip and his face contorted with anger. “Or were you just planning to avoid me until I gave up and went away again?”

She doesn’t know what to say. She’s confused about why he’s yelling at her when he’s the one who did something wrong. She just looks at him, expressionless.

He juts his chin out expectantly, waiting for an answer, but gets none. She averts her eyes.

“Is that all this is worth to you, Scully?” he continues, “you’re ready to throw this away over a simple misunderstanding, without even talking to me?”

She lifts her head and looks at him with a pained expression. “Okay then, talk,” she gets out.

He drops his head in frustration. “The woman you saw me with,” he says flatly, lifting his head to meet her eye, “was my ex-girlfriend, Valerie. I ran into her while I was running errands yesterday, and we had lunch. She has a boyfriend and is three months pregnant. We spent the majority of our meal together talking about you.”

She shakes her head gently, her throat closing as a tear rolls down her cheek. “I saw you kiss her,” she whispers, her jaw quivering.

“You saw me kiss her on the cheek? I also kiss my mother on the cheek, Scully, it’s hardly an intimate gesture.”

She feels a new wave of sickness pass over her, but this time it’s entirely different. This time it’s the sick feeling of realizing that she was very, very, wrong, and that she has, yet again, hurt the man who loves her. She opens her mouth to speak but she can’t find the right words.

He steps forward but doesn’t touch her. When he speaks, his voice is softer, more defeated than anything else.

“I’m sorry that you saw something that upset you. But if you actually thought for a single second that I want to be with anyone but you, you’re fucking insane. I meant what I said the day you left my apartment last year. I felt it then, and I feel it now. I want this to work more than anything, Scully, but for that to be possible you have to trust me. I can’t live with the knowledge that you might just shut me out at a moment’s notice when you get scared.”

She keeps her head down, overwhelmed by a combination of shame, embarrassment, and gratitude that he wouldn’t let her walk away. She does not deserve this man, but she wants to.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, still unable to meet his eye.

“I know you are,” he replies, moving towards the door. “Take the space you need, and let me know when you’re ready to trust me.”

When she hears the click of the door closing behind him, she collapses to the floor, sobbing for so many reasons she couldn’t possibly name them all. When it’s faded to snivels and hiccups, she stands and goes to the hallway, picking up the phone.

“Hello?”

“Missy,” she chokes out, “Can you come over?”

———

He’s not sure if leaving was the right thing to do. The risk that she might not come back around is one that sends his stomach into knots, but at the same time he finds it hard to accept that she wasn’t even going to give him the opportunity to explain. He’s been actively working to temper expressing his feelings so he doesn’t overwhelm her, but then she gets it in her head that he’s not invested. It feels like he can’t win.

He goes back to work and stops by Kirkbride’s office to apologize for disappearing. Kirkbride just gives him a quizzical look, clearly not having noticed he had left. The rest of the day he buckles down on his caseload, distracting himself from the catastrophic thoughts that dance through his head, and gets more work done than he has in quite a while. When he leaves the office just after 5:00 pm, he feels melancholy and grouchy, and annoyed that he left the ball in her court.

The elevator dings to announce his arrival on the fourth floor and he steps out with a takeout bag in his hand, eyes downcast. Halfway down the hall, he readies his key and looks up, startling when he sees Scully sitting on the floor against his door, knees tucked up against her chest and her forehead resting on her kneecaps. She’s very still, and as he gets closer he realizes that she’s asleep. His heart aches knowing that she’s been waiting that long, that she didn’t want to leave without talking to him.

He crouches down beside her, setting his dinner on the floor, and gently touches her shoulder. She jerks, her head snapping up and her eyes wild for a moment while she tries to orient herself. When she focuses on him, she immediately starts crying, reaching out to wrap her arms around his neck. He’s surprised by her uncharacteristically emotional response, but says nothing and just holds her until his knees start to ache, at which point he sits down on the floor and pulls her into his lap. They stay this way for several minutes, long enough for one of his neighbors to walk by and politely avert their eyes, entering their apartment as though there was nothing out of the ordinary happening in the hallway. When the crying seems to have subsided a bit, he gives her a little squeeze.

“Wanna go inside?” he asks, and she nods against his chest, his shirt damp from her tears.

She stands unsteadily and he follows her, grabbing the takeout bag off the floor. They enter the apartment and Priscilla plods up to them with an excited meow. Scully leans down and picks her up, tucking the cat against her neck as they nuzzle each other. Mulder smiles at them with a bemused expression.

“She was talking to me through the door,” Scully says with a small smile, “she heard me knocking and was meowing from the other side. We had a conversation.”

Affection swells in his chest and he steps forward to kiss her. Her shoulders drop and she lets Priscilla down so she can get closer, threading her arms around his waist and kissing him back in earnest. Desperate, thought I’d lost you again kisses that are as arousing as they are a relief, because he knows that they will be okay.

He pulls back a little and she makes a whimpering sound in protest.

“I’m gonna go change really quick, okay? Then can we talk?” he asks, and she sighs and nods. “You can have half my Chinese,” he adds, and she gives him a tight-lipped smile.

When he sits on the couch beside her five minutes later, she scoots closer so they are pressed against each other, and he gathers that she needs physical closeness right now. He loops an arm around her shoulder and she crawls right back into his lap, curled against him as though trying to fuse her body to his own. Her head tucked beneath his chin, she holds one of his hands in her lap, fingers laced tightly together, and begins to speak.

“After you left, Missy came over and we talked for a long time. I’ve come to realize how much I’m still affected by...what happened last year. I harbor a lot of guilt for being unfaithful to Ethan, and that’s actually largely why I married him even though I knew my heart wasn’t in it.” She pulls in a deep breath, pressing their joined hands tight against her belly, trying to get even closer. “When you and I reconnected, in a way it felt like a chance to validate it. As though things working out with us would mean that what I did wasn’t as bad, because there was something real between us. But at the same time, a big part of me doesn’t believe that I deserve to be happy.” Her voice remains steady, but he feels the wet drop of a tear on the back of his hand.

He tightens his arm around her waist. “I’ve always been a person who values doing the right thing, and integrity was something that was very important to my father. It was his measure of a person’s character, and that’s something he instilled in me as well.” She sits up a bit so she can look at him, and his heart breaks at her red-rimmed eyes, her icy irises so mournful. “It’s not that I don’t trust you, Mulder. You haven’t given me any reason not to. It’s just that I don’t feel like I deserve this, especially with you, and I’m waiting for the moment it all comes crashing down. So when I saw you with that woman, it was almost like I’d been waiting for it, expecting it. Getting what I deserved.”

He brings his palms to her cheeks, brushing away the tears with his thumbs.

“Thank you for telling me that,” he says softly. “I wish I could change how you feel, but I know that I can’t. I do know how it feels to spend your life harboring guilt over something you could have done differently, and I can tell you that punishing yourself won’t make it any easier. It makes me really sad that you’ll always regret how we met.”

She closes her eyes and shakes her head gently. When she opens them, her expression is more tender than it is mournful.

“I don’t regret it, Mulder. I do feel guilt, and shame, for not ending it with Ethan so we could have done things the right way, but I could never regret meeting you.”

He pulls her back into an embrace, her arms wrapping around his ribcage, and plants a kiss to the top of her head.

“Are we okay?” he asks softly.

“I hope so,” she says hoarsely.

“Is this a bad time to tell you that Valerie wants to meet you sometime?” he asks, and she laughs.

“I don’t know, did you tell her that I freaked out on you because you had lunch with her?” she replies, and he can already hear her tone shifting back to their typical lighthearted banter.

“No, of course not. That’ll be our little secret. Well, plus Trudy. I think Trudy knows too much honestly.”

She laughs again, and god he could spend the rest of his life trying to make her laugh. In fact, that’s exactly what he hopes to do.

“Speaking of meeting people,” she continues, “Missy mentioned you to my mother yesterday and she wants to meet you.”

A grin stretches across his mouth, but he doesn’t say anything. She pulls back to look at his face, to gauge his reaction, and smiles softly in response.

“You want me to meet your mom?” he asks, the delight on his face carrying over to his voice.

Her mouth screws up shyly. “My little brother will probably be there too, and Missy. Is that too much?”

He shakes his head. “Sounds perfect. But, there are some friends I’d like you to meet too, if we’re meeting people.”

“The Lone Gunmen?” she asks with a skeptical lilt.

“Those are the ones. They’re my only friends, actually. Aside from Val.” Just then, Priscilla hops up onto the couch beside them. “Oh, and you Priscilla, sorry,” he adds.

Scully smiles at the cat, and then at him. “Can I bring Missy as a human buffer?” she asks hopefully.

“Of course. You may set a record for the highest number of female visitors to their lair in a day.”

“Lair?” she asks with wide eyes.

He chuckles. “They’ll grow on you, I promise.”

[pellucidity-is-me]

Poppy Pomfrey Hates Werewolves

Summary: The year is 1971, and Madam Pomfrey is finding it more difficult than expected to care for an eleven-year-old werewolf student. She turns to a late-night conversation with Minerva McGonagall in order to soothe her frustrations.

Wordcount: 3843

Poppy Pomfrey hated werewolves.

No, that wasn't the right wording. Poppy loved Remus very much; she thought that he was a clever, lovable boy who deserved to be at Hogwarts more than some of the other ridiculous buffoons (ahem: Potter and Black).

In fact, the Lupins in general were lovely people. Poppy remembered Remus' father, Lyall Lupin, from her first year at Hogwarts—he’d been six years older than she was and in a different House, so they hadn't been close. Yet she did remember that Lyall was a lot like Remus in the sense that he'd received very good marks and was usually quiet and mild-mannered. But his temper! Arguments with Lyall were bound to lead to a fight—either the Muggle way or the wizarding way; Lyall was willing to participate in either. Poppy saw Lyall in Remus often, even though she hadn't known Lyall very well. They looked alike, yes, but there was also something deeper. Both had odd interests and were a bit eccentric. Both were clever. Both had an unexpectedly honed sense of humor. And both (as Poppy knew from some of Hope's letters) were very prone to guilt.

Hope was Remus' mother, and Poppy liked her just as much as she liked Remus. She was a wonderful mother and a lot of fun. A stereotypical doting mother, really. Hope, like Lyall and Remus, was very funny, and Poppy often found herself laughing out loud at her letters. Poppy probably learned much more about young Remus than Remus would have been comfortable with, but Hope just couldn't help oversharing. Poppy suspected that she'd never before had anyone to talk to about Remus without fear of his lycanthropy getting out. Poppy liked Hope so much, in fact, that they had plans to meet during Christmas holidays. Poppy could see the two of them becoming very good friends.

Yes, Poppy was fond of Remus, as well as both of his parents. But she hated werewolves.

Not werewolves. Not really. Poppy hated lycanthropy. Poppy hated the fact that Remus had to go through unimaginable pain every single month. And he was so young! Four years old, that's how old he had been. It made Poppy feel ill sometimes, and it was the type of illness that even she—the most experienced school matron in the world, probably—could not cure.

It had gone relatively well for the first couple of months—well, not well, per se, but they’d survived. At least Remus had always been conscious and somewhat coherent afterwards. Remus had a habit of making jokes when he was uncomfortable, and it always made it easier to stop feeling so horrible when he was making the odd sarcastic comment. But the first December full moon was far worse than usual. 

When Poppy crawled through the tunnel the morning after the December full moon and saw Remus, unconscious on the floor and bleeding out, she nearly vomited. She wasn't ready for this! She couldn’t! She’d never had to do anything like this before, and this was absolutely terrible. He shouldn’t have to deal with that every month. She shouldn’t have to deal with this every month. 

How dare Dumbledore ask her to help him? She was only human. She couldn't see this, month after month and day after day. Such a young student. So small and thin and delicate. This was horrible for her, too!

And no one even asked her! It wasn't as if Dumbledore had said "Good morning, Poppy, would you be willing to care for a werewolf in September 1971?" No, he had flat-out told her that there was nothing she could do about it. She still remembered his exact words. A very special student... infected with lycanthropy... deserves a chance to learn, as all children do... Poppy will be caring for him after full moons... Don't try to protest his coming here, I have made my decision. Ridiculous. The man never asked anyone else's opinion. 

Poppy wouldn't have protested, though, and she felt even worse when she realized what she was insinuating. Remus, stay home and never come to Hogwarts? That wouldn't stop the transformations; that would only make them worse. Besides, having to see it was nothing compared to actually going through it... But still. It was so hard to think of it all—so difficult to be given a burden that no one, be it child or school matron, should have to carry.

Poppy was used to being able to help people. That was her job. She loved helping people. But there was no cure for lycanthropy, and it was far beyond Poppy’s abilities to comprehend, even, how terrible it must be for the eleven-year-old child... for a five-year-old child. Remus had endured countless full moons, and each one left him with injuries worse than some of the worst accidents that Poppy had ever seen. It made her sick.

Regardless of her feelings, though, Poppy now stood in the Shrieking Shack. Her wand was dangling limply from her hand as she stared at the deep gashes in the wall and the equally limp boy on the floor who had somehow—somehow—made them.

She couldn't help it at that point. She left. She couldn't look at him any longer; it was driving her mad.

She'd always thought magic to be a wonderful thing: capable of healing and helping and loving. But it wasn't. Magic wasn't all good at all. Here was the darker side—the horrific, awful, terrifying side that left eleven-year-old children so ill that they couldn't eat, turned them into horrifying beasts against their will, and then left them bruised and broken on the floors of their own torture chambers. Why did she even try? She couldn't change anything. She'd never help Remus Lupin, no matter how much time she spent soothing his worries and healing his injuries. He'd always have to go through this. There was no cure, and Poppy felt helpless. She hadn't felt this awful since she'd failed that student who spent half a year as a rock.

She’d only meant to leave for a bit (she needed more potions for Remus, anyhow, and she also needed a bit of air. Remus would be fine). But then she came across a panicking Slughorn who professed that a girl had drank too much of a potentially deadly potion and needed to be taken to St. Mungo’s. The girl’s parents weren’t available. Someone would have to take her.

When Professor John Questus, current Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, offered to stay and look after Remus, Poppy couldn’t help but seize the opportunity to take a breather.

So she took the girl to St. Mungo’s herself and left Remus with the Defense professor. She needed some time away—some time to think things over. She knew that it was probably the better option to stay with Remus, but she couldn't. She couldn't help popping in every few hours over Floo to make sure that Remus had not died due to her negligence—but she stayed away, for the most part. And she talked to Remus' toad that had crept into her apron. He really was good conversation, even if he was slimy-looking and warty.

"What was your name? Bufo?"

Bufo blinked.

"Do you think I've failed?"

Bufo cocked his gross little head.

"People trusted me, and I just left. That's unacceptable."

Bufo croaked.

"I'm a terrible matron." Poppy felt tears well up in her eyes. She'd left Remus to John Questus. John Questus! He was probably asking Remus all sorts of uncomfortable questions and snapping at him for being too emotional when Remus needed love and comfort and care. Because that was what John Questus did. As a former Auror, he knew Healing magic, to be sure... but he just wasn’t the type of person to care for a scared child. 

Remus was injured, and Poppy had left him—left him!—all alone on the floor of the Shrieking Shack—the Shrieking Shack!—with no one to help him. What if he had woken up all alone and scared and in pain and waited, but no one came, and then the most horribly unsympathetic professor at Hogwarts showed up and told him that Poppy had left! Just left! Poppy didn't want to think of how awful Remus, who already mistakenly assumed that most everyone hated him, might have felt.

Suddenly, she felt a small weight on her shoulder. She opened her eyes and saw Bufo snuggling against her neck. Poppy sniffed and patted his leathery skin a bit—he wasn't so bad, after all.

And Remus seemed mostly okay when she'd returned to Hogwarts. John had missed one of his wounds, and it ended up becoming terribly infected. Poppy was angry with John at first, but it didn't take long before she realized that it was her fault. The man wasn't an experienced Healer, after all, even though he did know a bit of Healing magic. Remus was her job, and she'd abandoned him just because she was feeling emotional.

Now it was Tuesday, and Poppy was certain that Remus would sleep through the night. He was looking so much better, and Poppy had no doubt that he would be all right upon going back to classes on Wednesday. Even his arm was healing up, and he'd managed to walk around the Hospital Wing the other day without any problems—he even took a bath all by himself. So she left him in her office (under the watchful eyes of Bufo), and went to talk to Minerva McGonagall.

Minerva and Poppy had been in the same year at Hogwarts and had been acquaintances (despite the fact that they were in different Houses). Since Minerva had already been teaching when Poppy had become the matron, they'd only gotten closer. Poppy would consider Minerva to be her closest friend, even—they certainly saw a lot of each other. They'd been colleagues for about twenty years now. It was mad, how quickly the time flew.

Poppy knew that Minerva was uncomfortable around Remus (she never liked werewolves much), but it was clear that she was trying—Poppy appreciated that. And Remus seemed to enjoy Minerva's company (but then again, he seemed to enjoy everybody's company. Even John Questus', for some reason). Poppy had never spoken to Minerva about Remus one-on-one (though she tended to chatter about him during staff meetings), but she was sure that Minerva wouldn't mind.

She knocked on Minerva's door, and Minerva let her in with a smile. "Poppy. May I help you?"

"I... only need to talk." Poppy often came to Minerva to chat; despite Poppy's no-nonsense exterior and usually-immaculate bedside manner, she was frightfully emotional. Anyone who told the students that, though, would be getting a rather nasty hex that Madam Pomfrey "wouldn't be able to heal".

"Of course," said Minerva. "Come in; I'll make tea."

"Are you sure? It's late, and I don't want to keep you up."

"I'm sure. I was having trouble sleeping, anyway."

"Yes, I noticed that your hair is still up."

Minerva smiled and undid her bun. "It's been a long day. Do you know, Potter and Black still insist on calling me by my first name? Those insolent, disrespectful..."

"I can't believe that Remus is friends with them."

"Is this about Remus, then?" said Minerva, nearly laughing. "You have that same look on your face whenever you talk about him during the staff meetings."

Poppy rearranged her face. "Look? What kind of look?"

"You worry about him. Understandably so, of course."

"Yes, yes." Minerva offered Poppy a teacup, and she took it gratefully. "I just... I can't. Minerva, it's awful!"

Minerva sat back patiently with her own cup of tea, not even batting an eye. "Yes, I know."

It all came spilling out at once. "I've done research! We all have! Did you read the article in the paper? The Shrieking Shack, they call it. Shrieking? Wolves don't shriek, Minerva—people do! It's painful; it's hurting him! And his pain threshold is so incredibly high that I... I can't even... I can't even imagine how bad it is, to make him hurt enough to actually cry out. He's so thin and sickly and pale all the time, and he's so small and delicate for his age, and he... I can't get over his pain threshold! He doesn't even flinch when I heal a broken bone, Minerva. Doesn't even flinch. He walks all the way back to the castle, month after month, with worse injuries than... than anything, really.

"And he just has to live with it—wounds all over his body all the time, can't even heal up completely before the next full moon rolls around, can't eat properly on the day before, can't even attend class because he's feeling so sickly. He gets through injuries that would cripple a grown man... and complains less than a miffed Gryffindor when Slytherin wins the House Cup! And he has to live with it! All the time!"

Minerva looked appropriately saddened and kept listening silently. She was good at that.

"He was four, he told me. Four, nearly five. He was attacked by a fully-fledged werewolf—and he let slip that said werewolf attacked him on purpose!—when he was a little more than a toddler. I've seen the scar, and I know enough about injuries to know that it must have been life-threatening. And most of it is on his shoulder, just near his neck! Just... can you imagine? Being a four-year-old child and a werewolf biting you—only inches away from snapping your neck... and then living as one? He's traumatized! He has nightmares, Minerva! Still! After six years, and he flinches whenever I get close."

Minerva pursed her lips and refilled Poppy's tea, which she had spilled all over her lap. Poppy didn't even care at this point.

"I hate it. I hate it. I hate coming to the Shack and seeing him half-dead. I hate his complacent expression, like he's been through it many before... because he has! He has! It's... what, eighty times now? I don't know! And he probably doesn't even keep track, because it's such a normal thing now! That sort of thing should never be normal! And not for a child, especially. A child! Eleven, but he looks so much older—he's so much more mature than he should be—he's seen more than children should, been through more than I have! Merlin's beard. Sometimes I want him to yell at me and get angry over it all, because he never really has. Cool as a cucumber about the whole thing. He's FINE, he says!"

Tears were running down Poppy's face now, but she made no attempt to stop them. Minerva had seen her cry many, many times before. In fact, she'd cried most recently when she'd lost her favorite pair of slippers. It was hard, keeping it in all day for fear of frightening the students.

"And no one ever asks me how hard it is. No one ever talks about me. Plenty of people say "poor Remus", and goodness knows he deserves it, even if he doesn't want it. But no one even thinks about how hard it is for me—to help a child—with an incurable illness—that I can't do anything about! To watch him fight through unimaginable pain, to see him suffering, to watch him get feverish and pass out in the middle of a sentence and refuse to eat and drown his pain in books! He's just... in my office... for days, every single month... and I just have to go about my business, knowing that there's nothing I can do. There's no cure! He won't even let me help him before a full moon because potions and things irritate him on the full moon. There's nothing I can do! Think about it! I can't get over it!"

Minerva wordlessly handed Poppy a handkerchief, and Poppy blew her nose. "It's not just about him," Poppy said, calming down a little. "It's not just about me, either. It's just... it's something that made me realize how much darkness is in the world... how unfair things are... how people can suffer so much without deserving it. I knew, before. But I didn't really believe it... and now it's just all so overwhelming. There are so many hurting people in the world. Remus isn't even the only werewolf in Britain. And I can't help everyone. I'm confined to this school—this small school in a world full of billions of people—and I can't... even... help everyone... in the tiny school! I hate it."

Minerva spoke for the first time. "I know," she said, and stood up to embrace Poppy tightly. "I know." A minute later, she pulled away, and the front of her robes were wet from Poppy's tears. Poppy could sense helpful advice coming. "Do you want to know what I think?" Minerva asked quietly, and Poppy looked up at her with watery eyes.

"What?"

"We all have varying levels of pain. I think that all of us have a sort of pain that unimaginable to another. Such is life. We shouldn't dwell on the pain that we all inevitably have: instead, we should focus on the good things that we have. Remus Lupin is a... well, he's ill. But he has two wonderful parents who love him. His 'normal' is different from ours, but that doesn't mean he has a completely awful life. It's just a different kind of normal—a new normal."

Poppy nodded and sniffed a little.

"And he has three friends who accept him."

"We don't know that."

"For right now, they do. And he has plenty of intelligence and activities that he enjoys. And he plays outside with his friends—did you see his face at the last Quidditch match? Or on Halloween?"

"No, I was sitting with the Hufflepuffs. And the full moon wasn't until November second."

"I've never seen him so happy," Minerva assured her. "It isn't the dark that we should focus on, it's the light that cancels it out. With all people—everyone that you can't help. It's just life, Poppy. Just life. No matter how much we think about how awful things are, they won't change... but thinking about how wonderful things are can change our mindsets, at least."

Poppy granted her a watery smile. "Thank you. That helps."

"Of course it does. I'm a very helpful person, you know."

Poppy nodded, ever thankful. "Now that I've done my ranting," she said, feeling a lot better than she had been feeling mere minutes ago, "I'll give you some time to rant about Potter and Black."

"Oh, thank goodness." Minerva straightened up and immediately went off on a tirade about their shenanigans: disrespect, loud voices, lack of motivation, disregard for the rules... et cetera, et cetera, et cetera. Poppy had heard it all before.

"I think you like them," said Poppy slyly once Minerva had finished.

"What? No!"

"Oh no, you definitely like them. Potter is fantastic at Transfiguration, is he not? And flying? Both things that you're talented at, yourself."

"Well... maybe I do like them a little," admitted Minerva with a heavy sigh, "merely because they're Gryffindors through and through. Don't tell anyone."

Poppy hummed her consent and took a sip of tea. "So... that game you play with Remus that you mentioned earlier...? Tell me more."

Minerva laughed. She didn't laugh often around students, and Poppy loved to hear it. "I wasn't very comfortable around him at first; you know that. And he knew it too. He was obviously uncomfortable around me, too—things were awkward at first. Classes consisted of avoiding eye contact, mostly. It was distracting. So I told him that we'd play a game of sorts: whichever of us can act normally around the other first wins. We've been giving each other points. I'm winning."

"Not what he told Albus."

Minerva sipped her tea. "He's deluded."

"So... any reason why you aren't comfortable around werewolves? It seems a bit odd for you of all people to be afraid..."

"Not afraid!" protested Minerva. "Just uncomfortable. As you know, I'm half-blood, and my mother—a witch—took pride in her heritage. She told me stories of the wizarding world all the time—trying to bring me back to my roots, even though we lived in a Muggle village. I heard so many tales of werewolves being a danger to society, even from an early age. They're bogeymen, Poppy. The monsters under the beds. Children grow up with an innate fear of them... They ask their parents to check their closets for them before they go to sleep. Their parents tell them that that a werewolf will eat them if they get out of bed or disobey the rules. I was so afraid of werewolves as a child that I hated going outside at night. There's a fear instilled in young children, and it takes a while to shake off. That's all. It's not that I'm afraid of him—you know me, I'm a proud Gryffindor. I just don't like... the idea of it."

"Even though he's so small and harmless?"

"Yes. I'm not proud of it." Minerva finished off her tea. "But I can stand to be around him much more easily now. I like him, you know. Quiet, calm. The exact opposite of Potter and Black."

"Do you ever shut up about them?" Poppy teased.

"I'll shut up about them when you shut up about Remus. All you ever talk about these days."

"He's the only company I have these days!"

"Except when John Questus visits..." teased Minerva. She knew all about Poppy's hatred towards John Questus—he had, in fact, been the subject of Poppy's last after-hours rant.

"Ugh! Don't even talk about him. The horrible, insensitive..."

"Yes, I know. You've ranted about him to me before. I think you fancy him, don't you?"

"Who, John?" Poppy gagged. "That's too far. I'm going to bed now."

"You accused me of liking Potter and Black. I'm only returning the favor."

"It's not the same thing! I do not fancy John Questus!"

"Sweet dreams," called Minerva. "I'll plan the wedding."

"You're such a child!" snapped Poppy, opening the door to leave. "You sound like Potter."

Minerva feigned disgust. "You'd better leave before I hex you."

Poppy obliged, shutting the door with a little more force than necessary and heading back to the Hospital Wing to check on Remus.

Minerva, she reflected, was a wonderful friend, and she was glad that Remus had a few such friends of his own.

Everybody needed friends, didn't they?

AN: Another scene from my fanfic (link in blog description). I don’t think John Questus has ever made an appearance on my tumblr before, just because he’s an OC and hard to explain in short snapshots like this—but he’s my favorite character lol and I was waiting for a good moment to mention him!