#tell me about joys ive never considered and jokes ive never heard. tell me about all the things ive never known!!

[crwatters]

.

[tom-holland-parker]

What Baby??

Summary: Dating the leader of the toughest gang in London was bound to gain you enemies. So after one particular encounter Y/N in sent to the hospital to recover but they didn’t expect this news

Pairing: Mob!Tom x reader

Warning: Car crash, slight mention of violence

Word count: 1453

Masterlist

The day started off so normal. Well as normal as it gets for the Mobster’s girlfriend. The morning was filled with boring meetings that you spent half asleep in your boyfriend's lap. Your head resting on his shoulder as his hand rubbed your thigh as a way to stay calm. But towards the afternoon you were bored with the constant meetings that had nothing to do with you. As the room began to fill up again you got up from Tom’s lap. “What’s wrong love?” He looked up worried

You shook your head bending down to give him a kiss, “I’m going shopping”. He nodded his head in understanding. “Take Harry with you” 

You rolled your eyes at how protective he was but didn’t argue as Harry stood from his spot at the table. After you got changed you met Harry in the garage. He stood by the black range rover waiting for you to get in the passenger side. “Harry when are you gonna let me drive?” 

He looked at you and laughed, “Not after last time, you almost killed us”. You faked a shocked expression, “The speed limit is a suggestion” 

He rolled his eyes and pulled out the driveway. Harry already knew your usual shopping spots considering you and him went shopping together at least once a week. It was fun to be with Harry. He was like the older brother you never had. It also helped that he always knew all the information that Tom didn’t tell you. 

“So Harry” You turned towards him as he stared on the road, “Tom’s been so on edge lately. Any idea why?” 

He glanced at you before looking at the road, “Y/N I love you but I'm not telling you anything”. You rolled your eyes at his stubbornness. “Oh come on I just want to help him relax but I can’t do that if I don’t know what’s going on” 

Harry sighed, “I’m only telling you this because I care about my brother” he stopped at the red light and turned to you. “Tom’s currently fighting with another Mob and they have a history of being extremely violent so he’s just worried for the family” 

You sat in your seat trying to think of something to say. Terrible thoughts entered your head, “Oh”. Now you understood why Tom brushed you off every time you asked him about how stressed he was. “Don’t worry I know Tom he can fix this. I have faith in him” 

Harry chuckled and parked the car. “This is why I didn’t want to tell you. You’re overthinking now” You smiled, “Nothing a little retail therapy can’t fix”. He chuckled as you both got out of the car and walked into the expensive stores. 

///

“We need to go out soon because I need an excuse to wear those shoes” You joked as you put the shopping bags in the trunk of the car. 

“Your feet are gonna hurt before the end of the night” Harry joked as he got into the driver side. You sat in the passenger seat fixing your lipgloss as he pulled out the parking spot and began driving home. You rolled your eyes at how slow he drove. “Harry you drive like a grandma, speed up” 

He smirked and glanced at you, “Like this?” The car suddenly sped up. The monitor going from 45 to 90 in a matter of seconds. You were glad there were no cars on the long road. “Faster” You shouted as you turned up the music. He chuckled a sped up a little more, now going 95 mph.

As you got closer to the crowded street you began to wonder why he hadn’t slowed down. Turning to him you saw a look of worry on his face, “Harry slow down” You begged

“I can’t” he shouted repeatedly stomping his foot on the break, “The breaks aren’t working”

Your eyes widened in fear. “Put your seatbelt on” He shouted, still trying to get the car to work correctly. You did as you were told, putting the seat belt on before turning to him, the car began to swerve uncontrollably off the road into the line of trees. You grabbed his hand wanting some sort of comfort as the car hit the tree. 

///

Everything around you was blurry and white. It took you a few minutes to realize you were in the hospital only coming to the realization when you tried to move. The IV hurt more every time you tried to move. When you finally sat up your head felt like it was going to explode. You grabbed your glasses from the nightstand by your table hoping they would relieve your headache. 

“Oh thank god you're up” You heard your boyfriend's worried voice fill the room as you turned to look at him. He looked terrible like he hadn’t slept at all. “I was so worried about you” 

He went to pull you in for a hug but stopped realizing you were in pain, “I’ll tell the nurse you’re awake” He rushed out the room returning moments later with the nurse. She checked your IV and grabbed the clipboard by the bed before leaving to get the doctor. 

You turned to Tom, “What happened? How long have I been here?” 

He sat at the edge of the bed, his hand rubbing your shin through the thin blanket. “You’ve been here for a few hours'' he looked at his phone then back at you, “car crashed” 

“What about my shoes?” you joked hoping it would lighten the mood in the room. He chuckled, “only you would think about shoes when your stuck in a hospital bed with a broken leg and a concussion”

You smiled, “They were nice shoes”. He sighed looking at you, “The brakes on the car were cut and that’s why Harry couldn’t stop the car.” 

You sat up pulling the blanket off, “I have to go see Harry” Tom grabbed your arm stopping you from jumping out the bed, “Harry is completely fine the car crashed more on your side so you suffered more damage”

He looked at the door then back at you, “nothing but a broken wrist and a few bruises for him”. You took a deep breath before sitting back into the bed. Tom ran his hands through his hair as tears began to form in his eyes. “I don’t know what I would do without you guys” 

You reached to hug him holding his head to your chest. “Don’t worry everything is okay” 

“This is my fault” Tears travelled down his cheeks and he shook his head in shame, “I should’ve been with you” 

“Tom stop” You lifted his head, “Look things like this happen and I know that you’ll make sure they never happen again” You kissed him softly, “I love you”. You wiped his tear away before kissing him again, “I love you too” He whispered holding you closer. You laid in each other's arms for a few minutes before the doctor entered the room. 

“Ah Mrs. Holland” Even though you weren’t married to Tom everyone still called you that, “I'm glad you’re awake”. Tom got up from besides you staring at the doctor. “It seems I have good news and bad” 

He looked at your file before looking between you and Tom. “bad news first” You demanded wanting to get it over with. 

“Well you’re going to be on bedrest for a couple months while you recover”. You sighed knowing that bedrest is going to drive you insane. 

“And the good news?” Tom asked as he grabbed your hand. The doctor smiled, “Your baby is perfectly fine” Your eyes widened in shock. You and Tom looked at each other before slowly looking back at the doctor. “What baby?” You both shouted at the same time

The doctor chuckled nervously, “You’re 3 months pregnant” 

“No no no I can’t be pregnant” You said in disbelief, “I’ve been getting my period and we use condoms plus I'm on birth control” You tried to think of any flaw in his facts. 

“Well there was that one time” Tom said quietly. Your head shot towards him, “What time?” 

“3 months ago, that would’ve been your birthday” Your eyes widened as you remembered how drunk you both were on your birthday. There were no more condoms but you too were too in the moment to care. 

“Omg my god I’m pregnant” You said in shock before reality hit, “OMG IM PREGNANT”

All the pain had temporarily been forgotten as you jumped to hug Tom tears of joy falling down both your faces. The doctor chuckled, “I’ll go tell your family they can see you now”

[whats-rambled-rambled]

Smoke & Mirrors - part 1

Neil x Reader

Chapter 1: Natural

summary: you’ve been working your ass off for that promotion, but here comes your boss with his new brilliant addition to the team and just gives him the job straight away. 

warnings: this whole series is going to be 18+, the first chapter contains swearing and alcohol, but we are just warming up.

author’s note: Ayyyy new series hype! New setting, new dynamic, what canon?

What can you expect from the whole story? Enemies/Rivals to Lovers, with all its implications, I think. 

The whole series was prompted by @vaneilla​‘s brilliant ideas, and they were just too good to not give them a full series with fem!Reader. Not only that, my dear friend continues to provide the best soundtrack for our new duo, and I will definitely share it all some time later (because oi, spoilers!)

The song for this chapter is Imagine Dragons - Natural

Anyway, enjoy and let me know what you think, please? 

___

You took your things out of the locker and slammed it shut. It felt as if the blood was boiling in your veins and you couldn’t wait to get out of the building. 

“He’s good, eh?”

You scoffed and glared over your shoulder. If looks could kill, Ives would have dropped dead right that instant. 

‘He’ was the newest addition to your team. And outranking you since his day one. The boss's new pride and joy. Neil. “A true natural.” As if it was enough to erase the last few years of you working your ass out for that promotion. 

You still couldn’t believe that TP had been able to pull bullshit like that off. This was against every regulation, but apparently, a couple of unofficial missions together and some fast-track training were enough to judge his predispositions for the job.

And it was like a slap to the face.

At least they had the decency to not assign you to his squad on the first operation together. But as your teams were forced to cooperate, you’d put a fair effort into watching him closely out there, a part of you waiting for a major slip out. 

There was none.

Even so, you’d rather stab yourself than admit he was good.

“His shooting skills are a joke.”  

Ives shrugged. “He makes up for it in close combat.”

You saw what your friend was trying to accomplish with that talk. You knew he felt guilty about that whole situation, he’d always been your biggest supporter in terms of the promotion. You appreciated the effort, even though the final decision was out of his hands.

The thought that he felt sorry for you wasn’t helping, quite the opposite. You didn’t need anyone’s pity.

“The whole plan could have been more efficient,” you huffed and grabbed your backpack, praying that Ives would drop the subject and just let you leave. 

But that was not your day.

“We got the job done.”

“Still--”

“Still,” he insisted, placing a hand on your arm. He raised a brow. “Never had you down as a sore loser, mate.”

There it was, the last straw.

“And I always knew you were an inconsiderate arse,” you chuckled bitterly and smacked his hand away. You walked around Ives and headed to the exit, fuming.

Only to bump into your new sergeant at the door.

“Easy there,” said Neil as he grabbed you by the shoulders, trying to look into your face to check if you were fine.

“Watch where you’re going, blondie,” you sneered and shoved him to the side so you could squeeze past him through the door. 

Neil’s voice followed you into the corridor. “Is she always this charming?”

You could hear Ives snorting in response. “Oh no, mate, you’re getting a special treatment from her, all right.”

It took all of your self-control not to flip them off.

____________________________

“How is she?”

Ives closed the door and glared at The Protagonist, who was sitting on a sofa in the lounge area. “What do you think? She’s furious.”

The HQ’s common room was unusually empty. Besides them, only Wheeler decided to spend her afternoon there. She glanced at Ives from her armchair and waved, burying her nose in the tablet again. 

“I haven’t promised her that position,” said TP slowly as he watched Ives fall on one of the poufs. 

“That doesn’t change anything.”

“Changes enough.” The Protagonist tapped the fingers on his knee, considering the situation. “I need them to work together. And soon. Do you think she can get over it-- “ he stopped as he caught the look Ives shot him and sighed. “I see. Any ideas?”

Ives scoffed and sent another death stare at the man in front of him. “You tell me! You got us into this fucking mess!”

“Whoa, I’m still your boss!”

“My bad,” Ives cleared his throat, straightening his back. “You got us into this fucking mess… sir.”

The Protagonist snickered and shook his head. “Text her to meet you for drinks, I’ll bring Neil, “ - his eyes lit up - “I’m sure once they get to know each other they will figure it out somehow.”

“Worth a shot,” Ives said as his shoulders lifted in a shrug. 

A quiet snort coming from behind their colleague’s tablet caught them by surprise. 

“Something on your mind, Wheeler?” asked TP, raising his brows.

She shot them an unimpressed look.

“Good luck.”

____________________________

The bar was crowded and it only added to your annoyance. You noticed an opening at the counter and when you finally reached the spot, you sighed with relief. After everything that had happened, you really needed a drink. 

With the corner of your eye, you caught someone staring at you. You gazed at the ceiling, wondering what had you done to fuck up your karma so badly. 

Pressing your lips together, you glared at the man to your right. 

“Really? Of all the bars in this goddamn city...?” you said, not even trying to hide how done you were at that point.

Neil’s blue eyes were watching you curiously from under a slightly disheveled dirty blonde hair.  

“Believe it or not, it wasn’t my choice,” he chuckled and pointed his thumb over his shoulder.

Your eyes followed that direction to The Protagonist talking to Ives at the other side of the room. 

“Great,” you huffed as you waved at the bartender to get their attention, but to no effect. 

Neil’s intense stare combined with the way he nonchalantly leaned against the counter was slowly getting on your nerves.

“I saw you in the field today. You’re quite a sharpshooter.”

A smug grin crept on your face as you batted your eyelashes at him. “Why, you’re looking for a tutor?”

As he scoffed and looked away, your eyes lingered on his clenched jaw with satisfaction. 

“What’s your problem?” he asked, fixing his gaze on you again.

It was your turn to tighten your expression.

Oh honey, where should we start? 

“I don’t have one,” you said as you schooled your features.

“Oh please,” he laughed dryly with a roguish twinkle in his eyes. “You don’t even know me, and yet you’ve already decided you dislike me.”

Your lips curled with icy contempt. “Must be something in your face, blondie.”

Neil lifted a brow and gave you a half-smile. “Blimey.” He signaled the bartender and, of course, got an immediate reaction. “One vodka tonic and one-- ...no, wait, let me guess,” - he raised a finger before you could speak up, looking you up and down - “...spicy margarita?”

You just stared at him, utterly perplexed. You couldn’t believe the nerve of this man. 

And that he actually got your usual order right. 

“Well?”

You wanted nothing more but to wipe that self-satisfied grin from his face. 

“No,” you muttered and switched your focus to the bartender who was waiting for your decision with a deadpan expression. “I’ll have a martini, thank you.” 

You drummed your fingers on the counter, trying to ignore your companion. But when you heard a throaty giggle, you sighed dramatically and turned his way.

“What now?”

Neil leaned your way, close enough for you to catch the woody and spicy tones of his cologne.

He narrowed his eyes and smacked the tongue. “You’re full of shit.”

“And you’re full of yourself,” you sneered, flashing your teeth. You took your drink from the counter. ”Evens out, I guess.”

A smile dangled on the corner of his lips as he raised his glass. “Enjoy your martini.” 

The smug bastard.

You grimaced in response and mirrored his gesture. 

“I intend to!” 

As you made your way to Ives, now standing alone on the other side of the bar, you took a sip from your drink. Your face twisted in disgust. Bloody hell.

Ives furrowed his brows as he noticed your unusual choice of beverage. He sniffed your glass and scoffed. “What the fuck are you having, eh?”

Of course, he still remembered how much you hated vermouth.

You groaned and pinched the bridge of your nose.

“Don’t ask.” 

____________________________

The common room in the early morning was full of half-asleep people, waiting for the first round of training.

The matchmaking masterminds met over the coffee machine and exchanged tired looks.

“Well, that was a disaster,” The Protagonist sighed and rubbed his face.

Ives grunted in agreement as he poured coffee into his cup.

“You guys are morons.”

TP and Ives glanced at Wheeler, who only then realized she’d said her thoughts out loud. 

Her back straightened as she added quickly, “With all due respect.” Her heels clicked together. “Sir.”

Ives chuckled as The Protagonist gestured to encourage her to speak freely. 

“How so?”

Wheeler relaxed and crossed her arms. “She hates his guts, yet you lure her into a meeting with him,” she said slowly, baffled that she had to explain something so basic to them. “I imagine she’s even more pissed off than she was before and, on top of that, from now on she doesn’t trust any of you.” She paused, letting her words sink in.

Both men stared at her in disbelief. 

The Protagonist slumped his shoulders and sighed. “Do you have a better idea?”

Wheeler’s eyes flared up.

“Actually, I have a few.”

(next chapter ->)

[mearcatsreturns]

15 for Abby/Luka

For reasons ;)

Under a cut because it's long.

July 2003

To: Luka Kovac <“croatdoctor65@aol.com”>

From: Abby Lockhart <“nursefirecracker@yahoo.com”>

Subject: I’m drowning and praying ghosts are real

Dear Luka,

Something about knowing that I’ll never talk to you again is just unbearable. I’ll never laugh at your malapropisms, look into your beautiful eyes, feel your strong hands holding mine, or make love to you again. There won’t be any more jokes about jam and cheese on toast, or you teasing me for my weak but constant supply of coffee. I’ll never hear your amazing, deranged laughter after you prank someone again. No more of your hugs—which are somehow the best hugs in the world. Because you’re gone.

It’s been three days since we got the call telling us you died thousands of miles from home, whether that’s here in Chicago or in Croatia. I didn’t know your dad’s name, Luka. We needed to call him, and I didn’t know. How did I not know? And now I can’t. I mean, L’Alliance told us his name, but the fact that I’ll never learn pieces of your history, of the wonderful man you are, FROM you...how am I supposed to go on and live my life?

For years, I’ve thought medicine was my great thwarted love. I’ve wanted to be a doctor for so long, and I thought I was bitter about having to let go of that dream. Now I wonder. I let obstacles get in the way of pursuing medicine, and it’s made me...well, it’s part of why I was so unhappy. But that makes me think about how I also let obstacles get in the way of us. I was happy with you, you know, until I let fear and my mother and Carter get in the way. God, I wish I could do that over again. We could have had everything, and if I hadn’t gotten in my own way, I’d be happy. I think maybe I could have made you happy, too.

It’s funny. I knew things with Carter weren’t working, and he implied you were part of it. I said it wasn’t, but then five minutes later, I found out you were—are—dead. And I realized you were the reason, or one of the big ones. As soon as Chuny told me, I knew I loved you and had loved you for years. Yeah. Great timing, isn’t it? I keep thinking that maybe I could have kept you from going if I had known or if I had told you. I didn’t want you to go when I thought you were my very attractive friend and ex that I still was fond of. Knowing that I love you—how do I move past that? Knowing that I lost you, first to my stupidity and then to death?

I just...I miss you, and I don’t when I’ll stop, or how to. Susan caught me crying on my last shift, and I didn’t even know what to say. I feel like I’ve been crying or standing still, brittle and stuck in time, since I heard the news. I can’t, Luka. I know I have to keep on moving, and I thought maybe writing you would help. I know you’ll never see this, never have a chance to respond. But the idea that some fragments of your soul linger and can maybe sense...I don’t know. That I’m writing? What I’m feeling? Jesus, this is crazy.

All my love,

Abby

Abby angrily swipes the tears from her eyes. God, what’s the point of writing this? He’ll never see hsi email or her again. Just...without Luka, how can the world be anything but grim and sad and pointless?

She laughs mirthlessly. Maybe it doesn’t matter. No, she knows it doesn’t. Because Abby knows the futility of it, aches with the meaninglessness, she presses send without another thought.

&&&

Three days after that, a miracle occurs. Luka, the Lazarus of this new millennium, comes back from the dead. He’s never been dead, and maybe, Abby thinks, there’s a God above after all. So many people wish for this exact boon, and she—they, the world—gets it. Some higher power believes this planet is a better place with Luka Kovac in it, and Abby is ecstatic.

Until she remembers the email and that they can’t be unsent.

It’s fine. She’ll be fine. Luka is coming back, apparently with a French nurse. Maybe he’ll just delete it without reading it. Maybe it didn’t go through—how does email work for the dead, and how quickly is all that processed?

Abby shakes her head. It doesn’t matter; Luka is alive and returning to them. She can handle a little awkwardness in the face of the sheer joy of knowing the world is a brighter, kinder place. He’s coming back, and that’s what’s important.

&&&

August 2003

It takes Luka almost a week after returning to Chicago to convince Kerry and the other staff to let him go back to his apartment. Even so, they only agree when Gillian assures them she’ll see to his every need.

Abby winces when she hears that, and it makes something flutter in Luka’s chest. Which probably isn’t good for his malaria, but the hope...that is.

It’s another two days of lying in bed before he has the energy to ask Gillian to bring him his laptop. At this point, it’s been months since he’s checked his email, and Luka grimaces at the undoubtedly horrible state of his inbox. He briefly considers never checking again and just getting a new one, but he knows his father struggled to add him to his contacts once already. To expect it of him again would be absurd.

With a sigh, Luka opens his email. It’s just as bad as he feared. He snorts at the myriad messages about Viagra, Nigerian princes, and Russian brides, deleting them without thought. He saves a couple from his dad. He slowly whittles down his inbox, but he freezes when he gets to one email in particular, sent about a month ago.

It’s from Abby, during the time everyone thought he was dead.

Luka considers calling and asking her if someone hacked her email or is sending spam from her account, but the subject line...it looks real. And Abby’s been odd around him lately, seeming both deliriously happy to see him and awkwardly nervous.

His heart pounds, and he clicks to open it. If this is a spammer, they’re probably about to get whatever they want.

&&&

Abby pours herself another coffee, internally swearing as she prepares for the last two hours of her shift. Deciding to go back to school is great; having to coordinate all the details is less thrilling and leaves her tired and cranky.

Frank ducks his head into the lounge, beady eyes narrowing on her. “Hey, Abby. The Croat is on the phone for you. Line 2. Try to get back out there as fast as you can, Weaver’s yelling at the med students about IVs.”

“Okay, Frank,” Abby says, though she flushes and her palms start to sweat. It’s fine. She can always hide the panic and butterflies in her stomach with sarcasm. It has yet to fail her.

Frank gives her one last suspicious look, then nods and heads back to Admit.

Abby takes a deep breath, then picks up the phone. “Hey, Luka?”

“It’s me. Glad I could reach you. How are you?” He sounds...ugh. So good. And eager and happy, and her heart could leap right out of her chest.

“Doing all right. I just have a couple hours left on this shift, and it hasn’t been too awful today. Only one MVA. How about you? You feeling okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Recovering. Listen, did you want to come over for dinner?”

“Please tell me you’re not trying to cook.”

“What? I’m a good cook, even if you don’t appreciate wonderful, traditional Croatian dishes,” he says with a chuckle.

“Luka, you just got out of the hospital five days ago. You still need to be resting.”

“Abby, don’t worry so much. I was just kidding. I have some sandwiches from Manny’s, and Anna sent me home with lots of matzo ball soup too.”

Abby bites her lip. Of course she wants to go. But the prospect of spending the evening with Gillian cooing over Luka, knowing that she shares a bed with him, is decidedly less appealing. And there’s the email she sent, which Luka hasn’t acknowledged. He might well have deleted it, or he’s giving her a gracious out.

Her conscience twinges as soon as she thinks about bailing, though. Didn’t she promise herself she wouldn’t take life for granted anymore? She’ll go back to med school, she’ll have dinner with Luka when he asks.

“Abby?”

She starts, realizing she needs to respond. “Yeah, sorry. Yeah, I can do that. I can be there an hour after my shift, if that’s okay.”

“Sounds great. Looking forward to seeing you.”

“Me too.” He has no idea how much, even if she wishes she knew for sure that he’d deleted the email.

&&&

Abby rings Luka’s doorbell three and a half hours later. She’d meant to come straight from work, but after a patient vomited on her, she decided to head home, shower, and splurge on a taxi to Luka’s. The poor man is recovering from being deathly ill and doesn’t need County’s fumes making things worse.

There’s the sound of the deadbolt sliding, and Luka answers the door, grinning happily at her. “Good, you made it! Come on in!”

“I did. Sorry it took me longer than expected.” Abby steps into his apartment, looking around. It’s been such a long time since she’s been here, and she notes the subtle changes in the art and decor.

“No worries. I know how it goes.” He places a hand at the small of her back, guiding her inside.

Abby stiffens for a second at how his touch burns even through the layers of her shirt and light jacket, but she relaxes, enjoying the feel while she waits for Gillian to appear and end the fleeting joy.

Luka is unfazed. “Now, of course we can just eat the sandwiches, but if you want to heat up the matzo ball soup, you can. Since you don’t want me standing,” he says with a wink.

Abby smiles back, shaking her head. “Oh, I see how it is. Make the woman who worked all day do more household work when she gets ho—wait, where’s Gillian? Isn’t she supposed to be taking care of you?”

“She’s not here,” he says simply.

Going to the fridge and taking out the containers of soup, Abby places them in the microwave. Is Gillian out for the evening, or is she gone gone? “Shouldn’t you be with her? Or her here with you, whatever.”

Luka is quiet for a long minute, and Abby wonders if he intends to answer. Finally, he breaks the silence. “I asked her to leave.”

Abby’s pulse speeds up. “What? Why?”

Luka takes a deep breath, clearly ready to respond, and—

The microwave dings, and they both jump. Exchanging a sheepish look, they laugh.

“Look, let’s get some food, and I’ll tell you all about it.”

Abby dishes up their soup and sandwiches, preparing trays so they can sit on the couch. Luka turns on the television, and Abby’s heart rate comes back under control. They sit together in companionable silence while they eat and watch Thom and Jai and the rest of the Fab 5 whip some hapless lawyer’s life into order. When they finish their meal, Abby cleans up, taking the trays back to the kitchen.

She heads back to the couch at the opposite end from Luka, not daring to get closer when she really has no idea what’s going on.

Luka clears his throat and mutes the TV. “So, yeah. I asked Gillian to leave.”

“Oh. So, um, did you break up?”

“She was never my girlfriend, really. She has a boyfriend back in Montreal, they just…” Luka shrugs and runs a hand through his hair.

Abby is more lost than ever. “Ah.”

Taking a deep breath, Luka continues, finally looking over at her. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful she helped me get here and took care of me, but we were never serious.”

Something starts to tug at Abby’s heart, squeezing and twisting and kicking to get free. Is it...hope? “Well, I’m glad she got you here safe, but you should have someone staying with you while you recover, Luka. Malaria is dangerous.”

He gives her a look. “I know how dangerous malaria is. I’m getting better. And besides, it wouldn’t have been fair for me to ask her to stay when things are over because I’m in love with someone else.”

Her heart leaps into her throat. “Someone else?” she squeaks.

Luka nods, swallowing. “Yeah. And I have a reason to think she might be in love with me too.” He slides over to her side of the couch, reaching for her hand.

Abby meets his eyes—those beautiful green eyes that are the best color in the world—and squeezes his hand, incapable of words. Does he mean…?

With his other hand, Luka reaches up and cups her cheek, running his thumb along the subtle arch of her cheekbone. “Abby, if you’ve changed your mind since you sent that email, please tell me to shut up.”

That stupid, ridiculous email might be the best thing she’s ever done in her life. She leans into his hand, licking her lips as she shakes her head slightly. “I haven’t changed my mind. I didn’t mean for you to see it and hoped I could learn how to hack computers and delete it but—”

Luka cuts her off. “I would never forgive you if you managed to delete it. You wouldn’t believe how much faster I healed after that.”

Abby leans forward, sliding into Luka’s waiting arms. “Then maybe I’ll write you some more emails.”

“Emails aren’t what I want right now,” Luka says.

Funny, Abby doesn’t either. Then his lips brush hers, and all her worries and fears fade away. She knows she has to tell him about med school and he needs to finish recuperating, but when Luka deepens their kiss and pulls her closer, Abby ceases to think at all.

She has Luka back, and now they have each other again.

[quillandink333]

Scarlet Carnations ~ Part IV

BotW Link X Zelda ~ Detective AU

Rating: T

Word Count: 5.1k

WARNINGS: death, murder, loss, trauma, blood and gore, terrorism, organized crime, self-harm

Summary: Inspector Zelda Hyrule, assisted by the faithful Constable Link Fyori, is infamous for cracking the most confounding of cases in a town dominated by crime. Her latest assignment is to solve the murder of her own godmother, Impa Sheikah, the late CEO of Sheikah Tech. Incorporated, while staying under the radar of the dreaded Yiga organization.

Part I • Part II • Part III • Part IV • Part V • Part VI • Part VII • Epilogue • Masterlist

It was nine o’clock in the morning, two days after I’d made my arrest, and Paya’s trial was in its opening stages. I was watching from the gallery. Normally, as the one running the investigations, I would be the first witness to take the stand, but today, for whatever reason, the lead prosecutor, Urbosa Sigatur, planned to summon me second after Auntie Purah. Urbosa was far from a stranger to me, however. She and I had collaborated on several cases in the past, and she shared with me many of my own ideals. She’d once even known my mother before her untimely demise. And so I decided not to question her judgment, however unconventional it may have seemed.

The prosecution’s opening statement had been based on the fact that the stolen Sheikah Slate, along with a bloodstained bullet, had been found in the defendant’s room, which, until recently, hadn’t been searched as it had been deemed irrelevant to the case. With these conclusive pieces of evidence, she’d stated, the defendant had been charged with both the theft of the Slate and the murder of its owner, Impa Sheikah.

The stolen object was the most central piece of evidence in the prosecution’s case. It had once been a target of my own immense interest, even before its theft. But that had all changed following its recovery. The riddle, though having been solved by means of professional reprogramming, still made little sense to me if any. “Carnation” was its answer, according to Auntie Purah herself. Much to my dismay, the secrets that the riddle had supposedly kept hidden had turned out to be nothing but my own fantasy. Every last piece of data that had once been stored in the Slate had been deleted, meaning the possibility of proving a motive for its theft was next to nonexistent. The only thing left in its memory was a diary entry, written by Auntie Impa the day before her murder. This in itself, however, held the potential to serve as a lead to her killer’s identity, at the very least.

The diary entry, as projected onto the courtroom wall by the Slate, went,

“Today was the first day of Zelda’s holiday visit. It is hard to believe that the last long term visit she paid us was already over a year ago. We have all missed her dearly. She seems as interested in my sister’s work as ever. It brought me joy to see the two of them bonding over their shared passion once again.

“However I must admit, I would still love for her to also spend some quality time with Paya some day soon. I sensed some resentment coming from her directed at my dear granddaughter. Perhaps it is something to do with that boy. Either way, it seems their relationship has hardly changed since she left the nest.

“I cannot say for certain whether anyone will ever be able to read this, but I have faith that Purah will figure it out. I am no good with machines like these, but I believe in her. At any rate, I hope she is the one who gets to read this message, but in the event that it happens to fall into the wrong hands, I will sign off here.”

With this, the prosecution’s argument, though a bit scattered across several different points, seemed sturdy enough so far. That Auntie Impa had seemingly known that her life would be taken the following night after writing her final message, combined with the fact that she’d received no threats from the outside world up until then, was one of the strongest pieces of evidence in our arsenal.

Paya’s defence lawyer, one Revali Twii, had made several attempts to dismantle her argument by claiming she had no possible way of knowing whether or not the victim had received a threat from outside the estate by phone. These attacks were easily deflected. As a foreigner to this city, Mr. Twii had been unaware that, thanks to the Sheikahs’ company, household phones here were all equipped with recording devices. Naturally, Ms. Sigatur had already listened to each recorded call since a month before the murder and had detected no discernible threat in any of them.

And yet in spite of all that, the argument shifted heavily in favour of the defence when it then carried out his cross examination. With how confidently Urbosa had stated her case, I never could’ve imagined how easy it would be for the opposing side to shatter it into countless, tiny pieces.

Mr. Twii’s primary line of questioning was a solid one, to say the least. He concurred with my deduction as presented by Ms. Sigatur that the parlour indeed was not the true scene of the crime. However, he claimed that the real crime scene could not possibly have been the defendant’s bedroom either. His basis for this was the gunshot. Paya’s room was in the same hallway that the sleeping quarters of the current witness, Auntie Purah, as well as myself, were in. Mr. Twii had her testify about the sound of the gunshot that she’d heard. In addition to the fact that it hadn’t seemed loud enough to have come from the very next room over, she’d only heard it once: from the parlour.

No doubt he intended to question me about the same thing when the time came for me to take the stand. I’d been itching to speak my mind and set things straight so badly that I’d had to cross my legs just to keep myself from getting up too soon by the time court was finally adjourned for a half-hour recess.

Now the prosecutor and I were together in a private room reserved for witness prepping. Normally I did just fine testifying on my own, but in this trial, everything was at stake, and I couldn’t seem to stop my heart from racing no matter what I tried. Thankfully I had Urbosa here, and simply talking with her had done much to calm my nerves already.

“You’re originally from out of town too, aren’t you?” I noted, thinking back on her performance.

“That I may be, but unlike that lawyer, I’ve spent enough time here to know of the perils this city is facing, and who’s been holding it together in spite of all that.”

“Right.” My lips rested against the curve of my index as my leg bounced restlessly underneath the table. “That schmuck really doesn’t have a clue, does he?”

“No, not likely. Though he’s quite the formidable opponent, I must say.” She leaned back in her chair, looking pensive, but not the least bit agitated. “My case took quite the beating out there.”

My heart rate was starting to pick up again. “You don’t think you’ll...lose...do you?”

“Who, me? Lose?” She let out a hearty bout of chuckles. “Young lady, are you quite sure you know who you’re speaking to?” I returned her laughter halfheartedly, unable to shake the foreboding feeling lying at the pit of my stomach. Urbosa cleared her throat, preserving her calm smile. “All jokes aside, I wouldn’t worry even if we do end up losing this one. The true criminal is still out there somewhere, and there is no such thing as a perfect crime.”

“I suppose...” Perfect crimes may not have existed, but neither did perfect investigations. If they ruled Paya out as a suspect, then only one other, “safe” option would remain.

“Alright, out with it. What’s on your mind?” Her hand had landed on my shoulder as she’d reached across the desk, over my half empty glass of water. “And why are you so set on getting Paya convicted, if I might ask? Sibling rivalry is one thing, but this is...”

I avoided her perceptive gaze, staring intently at the latch on my bag. What could I possibly tell her? “It’s just,” I stalled, eventually settling for a vague, “I’m running out of time.”

After a long pause, she leaned back, letting go of my arm. “I see. Well, whatever it is, know that I’ll be on your side no matter what, little bird.”

Oh, if only she’d known.

“So to sum up, you were outstandingly negligent in your investigation of the defendant’s bedroom.”

My jaw unhinged at what I’d just heard come out of the attorney’s mouth. I’d just finished giving him an explanation of my findings in as much detail as I could, during which time he’d been surprisingly polite, until now.

“You likely saw the Slate along with the bullet and made your arrest right then and there. You didn’t even stop to consider the possibility that you hadn’t found all there’d been to find in that room, did you?” I opened my mouth to respond, but he cut me off again. “In fact, I’m willing to bet you didn’t even attempt to look for the murder weapon.”

“Excuse me, Sir,” I retaliated with chest puffed up, “but my team and I searched the property from top to bottom, repeatedly, for two whole weeks, and—”

“Yes, I am well aware. However, you failed to complete a thorough search of this so-called ‘true crime scene’ before you arrested Ms. Sheikah. Do you deny it?”

I was floundering for words. Why bother questioning me if he merely intended to cut me off and answer his own questions? “I-I...”

“Objection.”

All eyes fell upon the prosecution. I breathed a heavy sigh of relief.

“The defence is harassing the witness, Your Honour.”

The judge gave a slow, considerate nod of his head. “Objection sustained.”

Twii gave Urbosa a subtle but unmistakable side-eye. I thanked her silently. “Speaking of the murder weapon,” he continued in his signature, holier-than-thou tone, “I have here Exhibit F: a list of traits possessed by the elusive firearm responsible for the victim’s life.”

This wasn’t good. The list in question had been compiled by the prosecution based on traits of the fatal wound revealed by the autopsy, as well as other traits shared by the two bullets that were found at the estate. It contained information like its .38 caliber and that it had likely been fired twice at point blank, to name a few examples.

“My question for you, witness, is the following. What did you find during your ‘investigation’ regarding the weapon?”

This was fine, I kept telling myself. He still had yet to present the most fatal piece of evidence in the record. “As I’ve said before, none of our searches turned up any sign of it, other than what’s listed on that piece of paper you’re holding.”

“Is that so?” The sarcasm rooted in his voice had me sweating bullets. “In that case, Ms. Hyrule, I’d like to turn your attention to this passage here at the bottom.”

That was “Inspector Hyrule” to him, but of course, he couldn’t care less for such trifling things as common decency.

But when I read over the passage at which he was pointing, my throat closed up.

“Allow me to read it aloud for the court.” He snobbishly cleared his throat. “And I quote, ‘The murder weapon and the circumstances surrounding it strongly suggest an Octoric M&P revolver,’ end quote. I’d also like to add that this particular model is favoured by the district bureau of police, who issue them out to many of their detectives for self-defence.”

I gritted my teeth, annunciating each word as I spat, “Get to the point.”

The smarmy bastard was hardly even phased by my unmasked hostility. “Now, now, Ms. Hyrule, you’ve no reason to worry,” he waved off. “After all, I have no intention of accusing you.”

When he spoke that last word, my heart stopped, and deep down, I knew it was over.

“Firstly I wish for you to clarify a few things for me, as you were one of the first to discover the scene of the murder when it happened.”

I gave a slow, strenuous nod, losing strength in my knees by the second, but standing my ground all the same. “Go on.”

“The defendant showed no sign of having a gun on or anywhere near her person when you arrived, correct?”

“Correct,” I lied.

“Good. Now that we’ve established that the defendant was unarmed, I’d like to present another piece of evidence.” He laid out flat a second sheet of paper on the stand in front of me. “Exhibit H. This is part of a record kept by the precinct where the witness is currently employed, alongside the rest of her team. It details a list of the firearms given out to detectives each day, as well as the time when each one was issued and when it was returned to custody at the end of its designated officer’s shift.”

And there it was. I’d known all along that it had only been a matter of time until he’d bring out this piece of evidence, but, evidently, I’d failed to prepare myself mentally for this. Perhaps a part of me had hoped not to be on the stand when it happened. All I could do now was hold my peace and pray that it wouldn’t get worse from here.

“This page corresponds with the day before the murder. Now, Ms. Hyrule,” he addressed, summoning a swarm of butterflies in my stomach, “I’m sure you’ll recognize this badge number here. Would you please read it aloud for me?”

I swallowed my nerves and did as he’d requested. “FB7732Z438LL.”

“Thank you.” He flashed me that shit-eating grin of his. “Ladies and gentlemen, this is the number belonging to one Constable Link Fyori, the witness’ very own investigative partner.” A few whispers drifted through the gallery following that announcement. “One who reads this will also notice that, after his revolver was issued out to him the morning before the murder, it was never returned to the precinct’s custody thereafter. In fact, it is still missing to this day.”

With this, the whispers grew in number, creating a din of distrust that had the attorney smirking from ear to ear.

“Objection.”

The whispering dissipated. Twii’s shoulders sagged as he hypocritically shot Urbosa a look that said, “What now?”

“Mr. Twii, how is this relevant? Unless you have definitive proof linking Constable Fyori to the crime, I see no point in bringing it up.”

The judge gave a pound of his gavel with a bone-chilling shake of his head. “Overruled. The court will allow the defence to continue, provided that it has good reason.”

My mouth fell open, and so had Urbosa’s.

“Thank you, Your Honour. I was just getting to that, my good prosecutor.” Now even she seemed on edge. The tension in the air was thick enough to cut through with a knife. “I may not have proof as things stand currently. However, that is about to change. You see, I have reason to believe that our witness here is covering for someone.”

The courtroom broke out into an even louder din of murmurs, as if I couldn’t clearly hear each backhanded remark the members of the gallery were making at my expense.

The pounding of the judge’s gavel echoed throughout the room, and the whispering ceased once again.

“You must be mistaken.” I stood as tall as I could with how close my legs were to giving up on me. “I happen to be one of the most trusted detectives in the force. Why do you think I was put in charge of this case despite being one of the first on the scene?”

“Ah, but that, dear witness, was your superiors’ fatal mistake.”

Damn that solicitor. “What do you mean?”

“Although my client has elected not to testify to the court, she has let me in on a certain piece of information—one that I believe will make the jaws of everyone here drop to the floor.”

Surely not. Surely even she wouldn’t dare stoop so low.

“Inspector...” The attorney looked me dead in the eyes. The air was suffocating. “What do you have in your briefcase?”

Everyone was staring at me and murmuring amongst themselves, more raucously than ever before, like I was the one on trial.

“N-No, it’s—it’s not what it seems,” I wavered. Then mustering my shattered courage, “You!” I pointed my finger at Twii. “Prove to me that the defendant wasn’t lying. I demand to see proof!”

But my demands were met with silence. Even Urbosa was looking at me with cold contempt and disappointment.

“Bailiff.”

An officer appeared from the sidelines. He seized my bag.

“Wait, stop!”

I tried to wrest it from his grasp, but he was too strong. I watched helplessly as he opened it up, reaching in and revealing the murder weapon for all to see.

“No...!”

“Bailiff, what is the number engraved on that weapon?”

He seemed to recite the number in slow motion, twisting the knife with every digit. “FB7732Z438LL.”

“No, please!” I screamed. “It wasn’t him, he’s been framed! Please, Your Honour, you have to believe me!”

Amidst the roar of the crowd, I saw the conclusive shake of the judge’s head. With a pound of his gavel, he said, “I hereby order the immediate detainment of Link Fyori under the charge of first degree murder.”

I met eyes with my partner but half a second before I saw him be dragged out of his seat with brute force.

“No!”

“As for this witness, she shall receive her sentence after being questioned by the police for the concealing of evidence, contempt of court, and perjury.”

I cried out when an overwhelming pain shot through my arm. My family watched from the gallery in either horror or disgust, or a mixture of both perhaps. I tried with all my might just to get the bailiff to stop hurting me, but it was futile.

“Your Honour, just a moment please.”

With the judge’s approval, the man’s grip on my arm lightened up. The one who’d spoken had been none other than that wretched defence attorney.

“Inspector, if you don’t mind, I have one more question to ask you.”

I held my breath, bracing myself. Though there wasn’t much he could say at this point that could possibly make the situation worse.

“Why?” he finally asked. “Why did you feel the need to conceal such a critical piece of evidence?”

My entire face boiled over with heat. I looked around, taking in the courtroom’s atmosphere, and my whole being was filled to the brim with indescribable anger and shame. Barely able to swallow the charged whimper lodged at the cusp of my throat, I choked out the words, “No comment.”

The trial had ended while I’d still been in the middle of interrogation by my own peers. I was lucky enough to get off with a fine, but it was because of that hour-and-a-half-long lecture that I only found out about Paya’s “not guilty” verdict after the entire courtroom had been cleared out. This was no surprise to me, of course, but still a disappointment, to put it lightly. What was a surprise was that no one, not Paya, nor Auntie Purah, nor even Urbosa, had bothered to wait for me.

That was fine. They could think whatever they wanted of me. I’d simply have to redeem myself by proving Link’s innocence in his trial.

It was to this end that I made my way to the district’s Centre of Detention.

When Link appeared behind the iron bars of the visitors’ room, he was already sporting a worn and faded prisoner’s uniform, surely having just undergone an interrogation of his own. Though, from the looks of him, his had been considerably more thorough than mine.

I cleared my throat. “Hello, Link.”

“Hello,” he replied.

Deathly silence filled the air. The harsh ticking of the clock on the wall behind me was slowly starting to crawl under my skin.

“They, uhm...didn’t go easy on you, eh?”

He shook his head, eyes wandering without aim.

Why did it have to be so hard to talk to him sometimes? He’d never been so unapproachable back in our days as teenagers. Though now, I supposed, recent events were only making things even more difficult for me than usual.

“Look...” I took a deep breath, shifting in my seat. “I’m sorry. Alright? I couldn’t cover for you forever. They were bound to find out eventually. Please, don’t be upset.”

“What? Zelda...” His demeanour morphed from listless to urgent, almost apologetic, as he struggled to find his voice. “Why would I be upset with you? I never asked you to cover for me in the first place.”

“I know.” Now it was I who couldn’t bring myself to look him in the eyes. “I just knew that you couldn’t have possibly... I mean, you would never—”

“I didn’t.”

He’d caught me with my mouth hanging open, when he’d cut me off.

“I didn’t kill her. I promise you.”

Of course he hadn’t. It was obvious, even though the revolver had borne no fingerprints and, with the gloves that he always wore, he wouldn’t have left any. What motive could he have had? He was an amnesiac, and even if he hadn’t been, he still wouldn’t have had a reason to kill my godmother.

I took out my pen and notebook, the only things left in my case that hadn’t been confiscated. “Tell me what you know, Link. Everything.”

A beat. Then he straightened his posture and began to explain his side of the story. As it turned out, my intuition had been spot on. This whole mess was the design of the Yiga organization. Link told me about his encounter with them before the murder. They had blackmailed him into surrendering his revolver to them, after which he would never see it again.

Though, even without a hint of deceit in his tone or manner, I had questions about the means by which the Yiga had blackmailed him. He had virtually nothing to lose. Didn’t he?

In any case, I honestly had considered showing him the gun that I’d found on the scene that night, but somehow I’d had the distinct impression that he’d known nothing about it, despite the very object in question belonging to him. I’d thought perhaps someone from the organization had switched out his weapon for another without his noticing. It was no secret that even the police bureau was infested with their ilk. In the end, I hadn’t been far off the mark.

The whole time he spoke, he had his head lowered, hair falling in front of his eyes, as if something were holding them back from meeting mine. Then he muttered, “When I had my encounter with the organization, I...remembered.”

His limited annunciation meant I had to take a moment to decipher the syllables of the last word he’d uttered. Then they sank in. “Wait. What? You mean you...” It felt beyond strange to even speak the words after so long. “You got your memory back?”

He lowered his head further. Was that a nod?

My mind went back to what he’d said to me on that one occasion in the office, not long after this whole mess had first begun. “Link, you...” My hands curled into themselves around the strap of my satchel. “All this time...why didn’t you tell me?”

“I couldn’t,” he pleaded. “It would’ve been a hindrance to the investigation.” I hated to admit it, but he was right. Dropping that bomb on me would only have thrown my conscience deeper into its already tangled web of turmoil.

Amidst all the questions swirling in my mind, one suddenly appeared, eclipsing all the rest. “Why did you disappear back then?”

At this, he finally looked up and met my gaze. But when he did, his eyes were wide, almost trembling. His look seemed to cast the whole room into a great, looming darkness.

“Oh, it’s...it’s okay if you’d prefer not to talk about—”

“No,” he exclaimed. “I must.” But the way his shoulders came up to meet his ears and how rapidly his chest rose and fell told me it wasn’t going to be an easy story to tell. “It was the Yi—” He choked on his words. “The...organization.”

There it was again. The name of the group I’d been chasing without rest ever since their appearance eighteen years prior. “I knew it...” I mumbled without thinking.

He steeled himself, then continued. “That day, my father was picking me and my sister up after school. Normally we would’ve ridden home with him in his automobile, but that morning, he and I had planned to surprise Aryll by getting...I think it was ice cream, on our way back. Anyway, we decided to walk home that day. But...” His face darkened yet again. “But then...”

Pressing him for more details would have been beyond cruel. I could only imagine the horrors that those blackguards had put him and his family through. “How many of them were there?”

“I’m not sure. All I know is that they had us outnumbered.” I nodded along, without thinking, as he continued his tale. “They were all armed with what looked like military grade shotguns, and they wore those masks with the inverted Sheikah family crest... I’ve always known that I’d seen that image somewhere before.”

No one knew why the organization had chosen this symbol for themselves, though I personally suspected it to be a show of opposition.

“Anyway, after they sh...shot father,” he struggled, a hand coming up to his now quavering lips, “they must’ve felt threatened by Aryll and me, because the next thing they did was...shoot her, too.” The way his tone had started to oscillate and how his face had drained itself of colour made my stomach churn. His anguish was so clear, it was devastating. “One of them had said something to the ends of, ‘We can’t have you scamps telling on us.’ But before they could...’shut me up’ as well, I fled.” Another pause. He kept on breathing. “I was too terrified to notice which way I was going. The whole time I ran, they kept firing at me. They were too reckless to aim properly, though, mind.”

“Well...that’s lucky, at least,” I tried. This was met with a sigh of reluctant agreement. “Still, how did you make it out of that with your life?”

“They stopped chasing me when I made it out of the back alleys and into the open,” he explained. “I suppose they couldn’t risk revealing themselves.”

Now it all made sense. Seven years ago, when he’d vanished without a trace, it was as though he’d never even existed in the first place. No one could get in contact with him or his family, and yet, no one batted an eye about it. It had seemed I’d been the only one who’d thought of it as anything less than perfectly normal. Just like when my mother had lost her life.

“We never had the chance to get ice cream that day.” He looked all but ready to burst into tears with that sentence. That was the moment I realized, no matter how drastically the last seven years of hell had changed him, there was still a fragment of that playful, hollow-legged sixteen-year-old left deep in his dark, forgotten core. If there was a way to bring that bright-eyed child back out into the light, I would find it, even if it spelled my demise.

Even so, there was one thing left that had yet to be explained. “What about your amnesia?”

“Ah...” His brow furrowed in thought. “I don’t know what caused that, to be honest with you.” He seemed to be racking his mind, but to no avail. “By the time those thugs finally gave up, I didn’t recognize my surroundings. I remember trying to find my way home, but I suppose I just ended up getting myself even more lost from there.” It was no wonder. The street names in this town were of little help in navigation, and it wasn’t hard to understand why he might have been apprehensive to ask for directions in such a bustling and hostile environment, especially after what he’d just been subjected to. “So I fell asleep in the streets that night,” he concluded with a shivering exhale. “The next morning, I woke up without the slightest notion of who I was.”

My heart took a plunge at the thought of his young self curled up in some alleyway, like a baby bird who’d fallen from the nest. “It must have been some sort of mental defence mechanism,” I conjectured. “That’s the only explanation I can come up with.” He slowly nodded his agreement. “After that, then, I suppose the rest is history.”

“Indeed...”

The visitors’ room fell into a deep, reflective silence, one nothing like that which had had me gasping for air moments ago. I watched the weary feelings of dread swim in his once bright blue eyes, tearing him apart.

He’d spent five whole years in that cold, cramped ward without even a name by which to call himself. And now we were back where we’d started. He may have regained his memories in the end, but at what cost?

I no longer felt the need to hunt down those who had wronged me. Now, my only desire was to slip between the bars that stood between the two of us and whisk him away to a far off land, where no one would ever hurt us again. But I pushed the impossible daydream aside. Even if escape were an option, we’d only be running straight out into range of Yiga fire.

“After your trial tomorrow...well, at the very least, I’ll lose my badge,” I smiled waywardly. Then, letting it fade and rolling my shoulders back, “Until then, I swear, I’ll do everything within my power to prove your innocence. Then we can go out for ice cream together.”

His eyes shimmered with unshed tears when he looked up at me then. Now that I thought about it, this seemed like the first time I’d ever seen him come close to crying, even in the time before the incident. Of course, he’d seen me in tears countless times back then. I wondered if he remembered them.

“Zelda...?” My name had started to leave his lips with conviction, but weakened on its way out. “There’s...something else I should tell you.”

“Anything.”

Just then, I caught him straightening out the cuff of his black-barred sleeve, concealing the fair skin of his wrist, out of the corner of my eye. “Never mind.” He again cast his gaze downwards, muttering an inaudible, “It’s nothing,” under his breath.

[bad-knees]

i visited my parents’ place and we were outside and somehow it came up to stories of the past, the bus that would take my sister to her high school only stopped at the end of the street instead of right in front of the house, so my overprotective and slightly thinks-the-world-revolves-around-her mom (unsure if that’s a fair characterization) emailed the board about it, my sister mentioned how she liked walking to the end of the street, how it was a sort of freedom, anyways my mom off handedly said something about how we have all these complaints implying that she doesn’t really care, and it’s sort of fair, like what’s she supposed to do now, she’s not the type to apologize or express some deep sense of remorse, she’s not like me like that and I’m not sure why, maybe it’s a communication thing or a cultural thing, like she can feel bad about something, but there’s that extra step of actually communicating that to the affected person she’s not inclined to

and it had me wondering how i feel about this attitude of pretending that the past didn’t happen, because it did, and i live out today what happened yesterday, everyone does, we’re all fungible and affected by what happens to us, we have to live with it, and i sat at home the next day thinking about my own feelings of inferiority and my patterns of loneliness, the shame i live with but also the longing for love of another, and i thought of something strange my mom did to me as a kid, and i thought it strange how i never thought much about it, and i thought of how shitty is that i don’t really have anyone to talk to about it, like who would i mention it to or even why

i wondered if i really want to tell anyone, considered that maybe it’s actually irresponsible for me to not let others know, for example what if my sister leaves her kid with my parents, what if it all happens again, it’s a different story when the things that happen to you happen to someone else, or at least that’s how it is for me, i can handle just about anything, i dislike the pity or being coddled, i dislike someone trying to solve my problems, but i’d want to be there for someone who goes through the same, to tell them that they’ll be okay, that they can find a home in me if they need, that it’s not their fault, it’s not their fault, it’s not your fault

i texted my sister about it, and i told her about some related things that possibly indicate that what happened to me might have been part of some bigger pattern, her response was.. not entirely unexpected, my whole family life has been the same recycled story, one where I’m supposedly creating all the conflict for everything that happens, I create conflict by wanting space, for voicing my needs and desires, for standing up for myself, for being myself, or for not so easily going along with whatever everyone else wants, i disrupt the peace by existing, and my sister thinks it’s her job to maintain the peace, to appease my mother

i never responded to her reply, it was pure gaslighting, a combination of how it’s all normal and that it never happened, she said the words that my mind made it all up, and like that she lost my trust, we’ve been kind of amicable for the past three years but it was more of a joking around kind of relationship, there’s so much i don’t tell her, the night before i felt so frustrated thinking about the vitriol I’m going to get from her for getting my ears pierced, the earful ill get about making my mom and my grandma upset, the controlling authoritarian voice in my head of should and shouldn’t is merely the things ive heard her say out loud to me, kicking me on the floor after not getting into that college saying I’m not trying enough, screaming at me on the car ride to church for not defending her after she got into a fight with my parents, how i look stupid for having nothing to say in a group discussion, that I’m worthless and a burden to everyone

i find it hard to feel so black and white about relationships, because I’ve been blessed by the one’s who have hurt me, and if i really let go of family what remains, do i prefer indifference over unwanted attention, it’s like being myself is coupled with being alone, that i can’t have one without the other, and i don’t particularly hate her either, i feel some sort of obligation, i wonder if i have the right to ghost her like this, do i have the right to assert myself, what a weird question to ask, it’s like asking if I’m a bad person if i do ___ , I’m asking the eve question and that never ends well, i think i’d rather put off all the deciding, i can figure it out later, the better question is am i loving her as myself, i probably can do better to communicate it, i wouldn’t like someone being in my life merely out of obligation rather than joy, the question is do i want to reconcile this, and i feel like the answer is no, because maybe something is lost in that connection, by being attached to an unbeneficial relationship, ugh i dislike that way of thinking too, jesus how do you handle this sort of thing

i can imagine them trying to hang on my birthday in a couple weeks, i tell them that i have other plans, the other plans are my watching the sunset alone in greenpoint or something like that, it’ll start feeling like autumn then, ill be wearing a hoodie, ill think of the past year and feel comforted by the arms of grace surrounding me, being alone is a leap of faith

[sainadazai]

When your crush is angry all the time

Ch.4

I wanna be an intern too, you ragedy ann looking ass hoe 😠



Y/n pov

°•○●○•°•○●○•°

All goes well when you are ignorant is what my dear best friend would say to me now, as I sit in the very back of the class unfocused on how our teacher is introducing an activity I have no chance of participating in. All I knew was that when Mr. Aizawa walked up to the board and wrote names of people getting offers, I wasn't one of them. Not that I expected to be, considering I wasn't in the sports festival, let alone the school at all back then. 

However, I did notice a small inconsistency in the order of the most offers. I was pretty sure that boom boom had gotten first place in the festival, him being there is what convinced me to transfer, but his name was actually second on the board. 

Todoroki had taken the place of first as far as offers were concerned. Todoroki the nice boy who I used to meet when I snuck away from my fucking prison cell. Call me privileged for complaining about living in a mansion All my life, but I much prefer being here. With common folk. They ground me. 

I peeked up from my phone at the red and white head of hair in front of me, he didn't seem all that fazed. Although maybe it was just the lack of seeing his face that made me believe he couldn't care less about all but one of those offers. Still, his business is his, and my business is the new Ao3 update on my favorite chrollo lucilfer fanfiction. What a babe. 

I decided that the class as of right now would be of no importance to me, considering I will have no offers, and bakugou-the reason I came here- hates me like I'm a piece of gum stuck under his shoe.  Through that conclusion I allowed myself to dissolve into the world of hxh and forget about how boring this world is. 

Could my power beat Killua or go in a fight? I mean, it doesn't enhance my strength like they did trying to get into Killua's house so physically they must be stronger. 

"Y/n! Is there something you would like to share with the class?"

Mr.Aizawas voice seemed almost shot at me as my gaze rose from my phone in my lap to meet him at the front of the room. He looked displeased to say the least. Well good for him, im displeased too, I might not be able to beat a fucking twelve year old in combat. 

"Huh?"

"You were grumbling, what's so important you had to tell us, hm?"

I thought it through for a second- just kidding, I never think anything through. 

"Oh, well I wasn't sure if I could beat Gon in a fight, but I'm not coming to the realization that if Chrollo is my boyfriend, I shouldn't have to fight anyone at all. I can just be a pretty face in the backgrounds and then after he wins for me i'll suck his-"

"Enough, y/n." Mr.Aizawa no longer held a tired looking face, his eyes were wide and an uncomfortable cringed was set on his face. As I peered at the rest of the class many also had shocked eyes, but unlike our teacher, held faint blushes. 

Minus midoriya, his face was completely red and his eyes void of life. I must've killed him, huh. 

"Wait!"

In an attempt to regain some dignity, I tried to correct myself.

"I would....not suck his-?"

"Don't even say it, shitty princess !"

"Woah bakugou, you spoke to me on purpose!?"

"Shut up!"

"Hey, how come you call me princess, you like me or something?"

He growled at that, neither of us paying mind to the fact that everyone in the class was either dead from nosebleeds or extremely uncomfortable and staring at us.  

"Its cuz you act fucking entitled like a princess"

"I'll be your pillow princes-"

"Enough!" A robotic-like hand sliced the air in front of me. The voice sounded firm, almost more teacher-like than our teacher's voice. I followed my gaze up the hand, not failing to notice how as I drew up the guy's arm his muscles only seemed to get bigger and bigger and- iida? 

"Oh class rep-"

"Y/n this vulgar language and border-line harassment needs to cease immediately. I will not tolerante overtly sexual language and acts in this class-"

As he was speaking I noticed something ironic about the situation. If everyone here didn't like sexual jokes or banter, how were they so flustered at comments that objectively should be unknown to them. 

"How did you know what I meant, iida?" I rasped in a low sultry voice, allowing my fingers to dance up his arm starting at the wrist in front of my face. 

I heard a few chuckles from, who I would say are the only two people enjoying this situation: kaminari and...stinky mineta. Iida's face grew more red than previously and the arms in front of me began shaking. 

"Mr.Aizawa it seems I've disarmed the robot. Is there a restart button or something?" I question with a serious face using the search as an excuse to wonder my eyes all over his body. Perverted? Yes. Rightfully attracted to this giant hunk of a nerd. Yes ×10. 

"No, there is not." Todoroki, who was in front of me, finally turned around to address me. I guess he was unfazed by my words. Looks like someone here can be cool. Whether he is okay because he is more comfortable with sexual jokes, or because he has yet to pick up on them, its nice that somebody in here can still function. Otherwise, I'd feel like a nuisance. 

"Y/n I'm not really sure how to- let's just say to have detention with your m- midnight. Detention. Yeah." Aizawa publicly convinced himself of my punishment? 

"Okay"

"Now, back to this, even if you didn't get any offers ALL of you will have an internship" 

And so went on the class, kids chose their hero names, not me though. I wasn't even sure I wanted to be a hero at all, this was just a little less boring and sad than the way I lived before. This school had people who laughed in joy, not just to mask the pain. That was the real benefit, not being a hero, or being strong. Likely no one here realized that there were many places where none of this joy was possible. 

Some of the kids in class gave me suggestions for a hero name, but I didn't like them anyway. They lacked personality, and while I have many adjectives to describe my personality, my life, none of them are all that heroic. 

"Dark element"

"Girl who will die if her quirk doesnt like its environment" 

See, I'm not the best at this. Even bakugan names had some sense to it...well no. I'd say we're about the same, but still. Ugh. 

~timeskip~ 

Bakugou pov 😠

She came up with no hero names. Fucking entitled brat. Everyone at this lunch table seems to have no problem with the fact that she is here, just happy to have another pair of tits to stare at like perverts. Their gross. I bet she doesn't even want to be a hero, she sure as hell doesn't act like it. We don't even know what her whole quirk is. Ive seen her do that plant shit a couple times, fucking with flowers or whatever. Still, there's more to it. Something we don't know, at least. Cuz in the middle of class she gets up and whispers to Aizawa and he just lets her go. Where the fuck does she go? 

Interrupts class, got into the school because her moms a teacher, won't use her quirk. What a nuisance, I can't believe she is not expelled yet. Plus those bullshit sex jokes are so shitty. She is obviously faking something when she does them. Not like midnight, who always at least seems like she means that gross shit. 

"Hey, who did you guys choose for your internship? I haven't chosen yet."

"The number three hero guy," I spoke, knowing I'm the only person here who already chose. 

"Really? Best jeanist! That's so cool, but are you sure that for you bakugou?" Shitty hair raised a shitty brow at me. 

"What the hell is that supposed to mean!?"

"Just that he seems pretty...uptight..for you?" Dunceface added, but he spoke like it was a question. Of course he is the hero for me, he is the highest ranting hero on my list. If I wanna be number one, I gotta train with the best. 

If I go to his agency I'm sure there will be a lot more action, since he is so high ranking. Then i'll get some real experience kicking villain ass, well, other than the USJ. 

"Of course he is the right option!"

"Woahhh~"

Shit. It's her voice. I honestly should applaud her for using it less often around me but, how can one small girl be so goddamn annoying. I don't even know what she has to say and I already wish she would just put a sock in it. How can someone so entitled like her, probably never had to lift a finger, walk  over here and talk like she has something to say. 

"You're working with the best jeanist! So cool, one time he saved me from a group of rapist guys, it was awesome with all these strings everywhere and I could only see half of his face. Oh and he had goofy hair too!"

Oh. I didn't really know how to respond to the girl who looked so excited about almost being violated. Another thing wrong with her? I looked back at the other people at the table to see if they knew how to respond to something like that. 

Dunceface was frozen, tape arms were frozen, shitty hair was frozen, and alíen eyes were looking like a lost puppy and trying not to cry. 

It didnt seem like the shutty princess was exactly understanding how what she just yelled was making things weird. She just stood there expectantly. She kinda looked like she thought being raped was something that must happen to everyone. Did she think that? Wouldn't put it past her weird ass. 

"Uhm...anyways, i'm sure you'll do awesome, he likes to put boys in tight jeans. Wish I could intern too, I'd love to see that boom boom~" she winked. 

A perverted joke...and then she had the audacity to wink at me. 

"You wish you could see me in tight jeans, shitty extra!"

"I know...thats what a I just said." She dead panned, blinking a couple times at me. 

"Tch, screw you!"

"I would-" 

"Can it, i don't wanna hear your shitty voice anymore"

The girl stopped herself after my words, pushing all her hair behind her head, except for the two blond stands in the front. 

(You don't have to acknowledge these if you don't want, but I made it so that they change color depending on what element your using and I thought it was hot*if you have short hair, then you just got a lil nishinoya type thing 🥰)

Lifted her obnoxious hands that moved around while she talked and made a zipper-like motion over her lips. Then she just stood there looking at me. I really wanted to just let her stand there and go back to eating. Ignore her completely and let her hope fizzle out and die or something like that. 

Yet here I am, still looking at her. Silently. Wishing she made a stupid joke so that I could stop flickering between those images I'd seen of her dancing. How even though ballet is a princess fucking dance, the pictures felt nice. Like if I was watching it live I would probably be unable to criticize it. That pissed me off, because I want to hate everything about her, but I can't hate those photos. Where she looks like she is flying, without any need for a quirk.

I see her in that weird gown, and now, in the UA uniform. I see her looking respectable, formal, and serious. Then I see her stupid little smirk as she takes pride in being able to shut up for more than a minute. 

"Why are you still standing there?"

Instead of answering, she took her hand up again, made a pinch with her fingers and unzipped her mouth. 

"I was enjoying the look in your eyes."she smiled. 

The look in my eyes? Could she tell I was seeing two different people? What the hell does that even mean? Even said it without that shitty flirt voice. Like she meant it. 

"You tryna make fun of me?"I stood up from the table to get in her face.

"Not right now, maybe later, I gotta do something." She smiled sincerely at me, for a second as she walked away, I forgot about how this conversation started. What a wierd fucking girl. I'll never respect her as a hero. Tch. (Yes, its canon he tchs even in his thoughts) 

3rd person POV 

Y/n briskly walked out of the cafeteria with a new goal in mind. She would come to remember how maybe being oblivious was a benefit in some ways, but for now, she had a clear plan .

"Mr.Aizawa, let me do an internship."

"You weren't in the festival, I can't just hand you to a hero who has no idea what you can do, y/n."

"Well, you know what I can do, right?"

"No. I'm not doing internships. Stop asking."

"That's not what I meant! You can just tell them, or I could, it's not that hard to explain. Just say i'm all- powerful or some play on words like 'she's got all the right elements' hehe, see how i mimicked your voice there?" Y/n grinned like a child. She was proud of herself. 

"No. Still not happening."

"I wanna be an intern too, you raggedy ann looking ass hoe" 

"Y/n, it doesn't make sense, insulting me to get what you want?"

"Maybe it doesn't, but I bet you feel real insecure about your hair right now."

"You already have detention, what more do you want!"

"An internship, I wanna do one with kamui Woods, I have a good reason, too. As far as my quirk control, i'm the weakest with earth, the aspect that allows me to grow and manipulate plants and stuff. That's why I've only been using that part of it all month. Im trying to get her up to speed so I can start using all four at once. He is like a tres guy, right? He manipulates earth all day long. He could teach me a lot, and that aspect of my quirk would suit his well. Please!?!?!?"

If the girl had just asked again in a normal way, his answer would have been the same. However Aizawa was taken aback to hear how much thought she put into this. From the stories of the teachers lounge, he came to understand her big life goal, was to rely fully on a rich man or woman, and do nothing at all forever. Just to try and forget about the terrible life she was destined to have because of that quirk.

This side of her was something he could not even her mother had seen, and it prompted him to speak those words she wanted to hear so badly.

"Fine." 

[nethwan]

A Life By Your Side

Summary: Both, Lars and Mei receive important news. 

Other links:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/25720198/chapters/63228301

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13663177/4/A-Life-By-Your-Side

________________________

Chapter IV - Revelations

It had been very painful for Ling to see Mei leave her home like that. When she told her that she needed a place to stay because she was leaving Lars, she didn’t want to believe it, because they looked very happy and in love, but with the accident the situation had taken a very sudden turn. She didn’t blame him, after all who causes an accident of that magnitude. So, Ling didn’t hesitate and offered her a room, but what had troubled her was her request:

“Please, don’t tell anyone, least of all mom. I’ll explain later”

When Mei finished settling in, she finally agreed to tell her, but while she doing so, she blamed herself for her insistence. Even saying that he had probably already considered divorce before the accident. Ling tried to make her see that it wasn’t true and that the misunderstanding would soon be fixed, but Mei wouldn’t believe it. As much as Ling wanted to encourage her, she knew that none of her words would fix her sister’s situation. They only thing left was to wait, to wait for time to heal everything. Although she knew it would be difficult for Mei.

On the other hand, Mei made her best effort not to call Lars, not to contact anyone who knew him to find out how he was. Even when Henri heard about the situation, she didn’t ask about him. It was a pity that Lars wasn’t a fan of social media, but if he was, Mei would feel like a stalker by constantly checking his profiles. Anyway, she would check her phone for notifications, as if she expected him to look for her, but that never happened. So, to ease her anxiety she would leave for work early and then come home as soon as she could to avoid being asked about him. She still didn’t want anyone to know that she had left the house, which wasn’t a scandal, but she didn’t want to talk about it with other people.

Then, little by little she started looking for something else to do. She started drawing in her notebook, updated her web comic for the first time in months, deleted the comments of that annoying hater and made all kinds of commissions. Ling had never seen her so busy, but she knew she was doing it to distract her mind and not think about him anymore. As if she didn’t know that this was her method of escaping from reality. That was Mei, even though she was an expressive person who said what she thought, when it was about something that really hurt her, she preferred to run away and pretend there was no such problem.

But it didn’t work. Sometimes she caught herself drawing him, writing his name in her notebooks or looking at his pictures too. Then, she would stop what she was doing and tell herself that she would be better off without him, that she shouldn’t miss him because he probably didn’t think about her. Those words still echoed in her head: I don’t love you and I feel overwhelmed when I’m with you. So, she cried a little. At other times she tried to magnify his flaws, inventing faults for him; she listed what she didn’t like about him, his bad habits, misrepresented conflicts, and then convinced herself that she could stop loving him very soon. Although deep down she knew it was a lie.

Ling was concerned about Mei, not only her mental health but also her physical health, especially when she heard her complaining of nausea in the morning. Nothing she ate was doing her any good, maybe it was nerves or anxiety, Ling wanted to think, praying that it would be something as simple as that.

One morning while Mei was cleaning the apartment, she suddenly started feeling dizzy. She thought perhaps it was fatigue, as she had had very little sleep over the past few days, but when this was compounded by nausea that would not leave her alone, a single conclusion crossed her mind. She tried to remember the last time she got her period. She had been so busy with Lars’s recovery and then with her work that she hadn’t even thought much about herself. In counting, she was about two months behind.

She thought it was a coincidence, but she remembered that shortly little before the accident, she and Lars had made love quite often because they were planning to have a baby. The night before the crash had been one of those occasions, and it was more than two months later. She began to worry, but maybe she shouldn’t jump to conclusions. She told Ling what was going on and her sister suggested a pregnancy test.  

The two sisters waited patiently for the result. It was positive. Mei cried a little for joy and a little for fear. In other circumstances, this would have been wonderful news, because she longed to become a mother, but now she didn’t know how to react. They made an appointment with the gynecologist, just to make sure, and in case she was pregnant, to know if everything was fine. In fact, Mei was already nine weeks pregnant, so everything happened before the accident just as she thought it would. That added up to something else to think about, but at least in a positive way, because she wanted to keep going for the baby that was coming.

That afternoon, Mei locked herself in her room. Lying in bed, she caressed her belly and looked at the ceiling, thinking about everything that was happening and how her life had changed so much in a few months. She remembered with pain, when she and Lars talked about having a baby. He looked hesitant at first but little by little he started to cheer up, especially after he had seen her holding his newborn nephew. It was the plans they talked about every night before they went to sleep. Neither of them expected to find themselves in a similar circumstance to the one they were living in. But it must have been worse for him, she thought. Had she known that night would be the last time Mei would hold Lars in her arms, she would never have let him go.

A while later, Ling knocked on the door, brought her a cup of tea and a slice of cake she had just baked. Mei thanked with a smile. They talked about different subjects, but Ling wanted to know what would happen from now on and especially what she would say to Lars.

“The truth is, I don’t know what I should do. Maybe I should hide it from him, go away and never come back. Start somewhere else by myself with the baby.”

“I think you should tell him.”

“Why? He hasn’t even communicated with me. He doesn’t care about me.”

“I know he cares about you, you both needed space is all, and he still has a right to know.”

“But I’m afraid, Ling. What if Lars becomes reluctant to accept paternity or accuses me of having a false pregnancy to get him come back. What if he ends up by hating me completely now,” she cried. “He is no longer the man who loved me.”

Mei decided to think hard about what she would say so he would be aware. For now, she announced to her parents that she was pregnant. Her father wasn’t at home, and her mother took the news very well, but since she didn’t hear it so enthusiastically, she asked her to talk to her in private.

“Mei, baby, you don’t sound happy. Did something bad happen?”

“No, it’s not that serious.”

“Does it have to do with Lars’ accident?” she insisted with concern.

“It’s just… I don’t know, I’m so confused,” Mei sobbed.

Mei took a deep breath and told her everything that had happened. Her mother had been the only one to support her relationship with Lars, not that the rest of the family hated him, but he was very likely to be misunderstood because of his intimidating aura and arrogant airs. Mei’s mother, to the other hand, knew that he loved her daughter and only cared about seeing her happy. After listening to her story, she kept silent for a few moments to try to understand the situation.

“I think the two of you should talk to each other to come to an agreement. I know this is all difficult, but you are two adults and should act like that. Be honest with him. He is probably still confused. You know him better than anyone else,” her mother said, understanding.

“I know, it’s just that it scares me.”

“I understand, but even if you’ve decided to separate, there’s still the legal part, you must sign papers and above all he must be aware that he has a child on the way.”

Tender and comforting words followed. Mei smiled slightly at a joke from her mother about becoming a grandmother for the first time. Then she decided she was right and it was better to talk to Lars.

Then she got a call from a Stacy to say that Lars had moved on without her. Of course, Mei didn’t believe her, because that woman had already been rejected and was behaving very strangely. Lars wasn’t the type to do just anything, besides if he wanted to move on, he would have called her to talk it over and come to an agreement. But she agreed to go, because she wanted to see for herself.

“I don’t know, Mei, I have a bad feeling. Don’t go,” Ling asked.

“It’s ok, I know her. She probably just wants to scare me.”

“At least don’t go alone”

So, she and Lien went with her and none of the three gave any credence to what they would see. They took Mei in a hurry, even though they knew he was following them. Ling wouldn’t forgive him. Never. If she had to be honest, she estimated him because he made her sister happy and was a respectable person, but with what had just happened she no longer knew who he was. She was no longer sure if she could trust him anymore. Either way, something didn’t feel right and it was as if he had been deceived too. Then he kept insisting on calling Mei, even going to look for her.

“Please, leave my sister, leave her alone” she replied, tired.

Meanwhile, Mei had locked herself in her room, staring out the window in silence as tears ran down her cheeks. At first, she had been shocked, and though Ling and Lien began to rant against him, Mei didn’t say a word, simply shutting herself away. Ling opened the door to check on her, and found her staring out the window her gaze empty. She went over and hugged her, trying to comfort her. Then she understood that her sister was going to need all the support in the world.

______________________

Finally, after trying to contact her, by whatever means, Henri got Mei’s number and Lars was able to locate her. For Mei it had been very surprising, when she heard his voice, she was paralyzed. She wanted to hang up, but she had also decided to tell him about the pregnancy.

“Mei? Mei, is you? Please answer. Don’t hang up” he asked.

“How did you find my number?” Mei replied in a barely audible voice.

“Never mind that, I need to see you and talk to you so I can apologize in person.”

She was silent for a few seconds and accepted because she also had something urgent, she wanted to discuss. She asked him to meet her at some restaurant, because she knew that Ling would kick him out if he showed up there. They arranged to meet that very afternoon, because if they left it for another day, neither of them could be at peace.

A couple of hours later, Mei greeted him nervously, and for the tremor of her voice and her distressed expression, Lars knew that it was a delicate matter. They talked about what had happened that day. Lars was so honest about Stacy that Mei had no doubt that it had indeed been planned, but that still didn’t give her any confidence. It still hurt her to remember that moment, what she imagined happened between them and all the bad things he believed about her.  

“I have been very selfish all this time. It was you who was always by my side, the only one who wanted to help me in those moments and the one who suffered the most. I, on the other hand, was ungrateful.”

“It wasn’t entirely your fault. I pushed you to remember me, I thought we could live like before, that I could get my husband back, but I didn’t consider how you really felt,” she admitted.

“Of course, it was, I was very stubborn not to trust you and it’s understandable that you would want everything to go back to normal.”

Mei started to feel irritated and disgusted again, this time by the intense smell of coffee, which had been making her dizzier lately.

“Mei, are you alright? You look agitated. Have you been sick? Do you need a ride home?”

“No, don’t worry. It’s just… now I need to tell you something very important,” she said, biting her lip and struggling to look him in the eye.

“What is it about?” he asked, in a soft voice.

“Well, I…”

“Is that something I can help you with?” he asked again, worried about the tension in the air.

“It’s just… I’m pregnant…” she said without further ado.

Lars kept quiet, trying to process the news. He didn’t know what to say to her, she looked nervous, but at the same time excited. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe her, the parenthood articles he found were proof, but it was still unexpected news. He never thought he would hear those words right now. Judging by her face she had probably thought a lot about how to communicate it to him, maybe fearing his reaction, maybe that he would reject her again. Yet as much as he was afraid, the news didn’t seem a bad thing. Many bad things had already happened, and at least this was different.

She explained again that before the accident they had been trying to have a baby. They had even taken some tests to see if everything was in order and finally tried. She showed them with the documents from when she had gone to the gynecologist with Ling. The pregnancy was going great, all she needed was some vitamins, and rest and better nutrition, nothing out of the ordinary.  

“I’m really sorry, I didn’t want it to be under these circumstances. But I won’t ask anything in return. And yes, it’s really yours, if you want a paternity test, I am more than willing to allow it…” she said.

“No need” he asked, trying to reassure her.

“Anyway, I just wanted you to know, in case you ever want to meet the child,” she said hesitantly.

“What are you talking about? Of course, I’m going to take responsibility,” he replied, holding her hand.

“No, you don’t have to. This was between me and the old Lars …” she said, breaking away from him. “I just wanted you to know.”

“But I can’t leave you like this. You are still my wife and that baby is mine too. I know I have no right to claim anything after how much I’ve made you suffer, but I don’t want to abandon you in that state.”

“Really, It’s not necessary. I don’t want anything from you, we’ll manage” she said in trembling voice, taking her hands off him.

“It is. You didn’t do that to yourself, it takes two to tango.”

Even though Lars was scared to death and didn’t know what would happen from now on, he had to do the right thing and take responsibility. How could he be able to leave her alone and pregnant, while he was too comfortable and carefree in a huge apartment. Yes, Mei had her sister who had surely been her biggest support in the last weeks, but it wasn’t fair to her either. Ling probably had a lot of things to do and a life to take care of. Besides, maybe it would be a chance to get better acquainted with Mei. He needed to reconcile with her.

Mei knew he was serious. Deep down, she felt safe, but on the other hand, she was afraid that he would end up hating her for tying him again and that resentment would come out. That’s why she didn’t want to accept, even if she wanted to be at peace with him again. In the end she agreed, thinking that her sister needed a break from the drama and on the condition that they would give each other their space. As if they were roommates, but with a baby on the way. So, he asked her for a couple of days so that she could pack calmly and he could fix some of the damage.

When she returned to Ling’s apartment, Mei announced that she would come back with Lars. Her sister said nothing, because she wanted to respect her decision. Maybe they both needed to live together and talk to each other to resolve their differences, thought the younger sister, although she was still worried about her.

Mei packed up all her belongings again, this time feeling guilty, especially when she thought maybe it was her chance to win him back, but with the discomfort of pregnancy and her body gradually changing, that seemed impossible. At least she was content to start getting along. After two days, Lars returned for her. He put everything in the car and waited for Mei to take her back. Ling told her to be patient and if anything happened, no matter what, she would always keep the doors of her apartment open for her. Mei thanked her. Both sisters hugged each other and Ling wished with all her being that the situation changed for better.  

On the way, Mei thought that returning like this wasn’t the way she imagined it would happen. It was uncomfortable the idea of living together again as if nothing had happened. It was only out of commitment, because he didn’t want to be look like a bad man who abandoned a woman pregnant with his child and probably felt guilty about what happened a few weeks ago. It was logical, after all she knew he was very responsible and had a great sense of duty. When they finally arrived, Mei took the suitcase with her clothes, he wanted to help her carry it, but she refused.

“You don’t have to help me with everything. My belly is not that big yet, I can move around without problems” she asked, because her pregnancy was hardly noticeable.

Lars let her take her belongings, feeling a little naïve, but he was unaware of all that pregnancy implied. Besides, he was afraid, not only of what was awaiting them, but of her getting hurt. During the couple of days, they didn’t see each other, he had tried to inform himself, the descriptions were so graphic that he preferred to leave it for later.

Mei was going to settle in the same room where she had slept while he was recovering, but Lars told her to take the other one where the double bed was. When she went in there, she noticed that he had arranged it carefully, had bought new sheets and curtains, there was a fan, a TV with streaming service, a table with a chair, all conveniently to hand. When she realized what was going on, she understood what the alleged damage was.

“Lars, you didn’t have to bother with all this. It’s not like I’m going to stay forever”

“It was no bother.”

“Then, you would have put the fridge here,” she said, ironically.

“I’ll see what I can do, I could buy a mini fridge and…”

“Just kidding” she interrupted him.

“I just want you to be comfortable. You helped me a lot when I got back from the hospital, so I want to do the same for you. I know it’s not the same, but I want us to be fine.”

“Oh…” said Mei, a little disappointed because it was to return the favor and because he felt guilty. “I’ll pay my part of all the expenses, of course,” she remarked.

He ended up accepting. He wanted to start again. He wanted to be there for her after what had happened, and of course, for the child they were expecting. He still felt like an idiot for thinking badly of her, so he deserved whatever she thought of him.

[the--sad--hatter]

Name Calling (10)

FANDOM - MARVEL MCU

PAIRING - BUCKY X READER (female reader, no physical descriptions)

WARNINGS - ALL OF THEM, SMUT, VIOLENCE ANGST.

DESCRIPTION -  In which the ongoing and bloody war of words between you and Bucky turns in your favor when a disgruntled one night stand of his lets slip a secret when you run into her in the elevator… Now you have all the ammunition you need to destroy your enemy but you don’t plan on killing him quickly. Oh no, Bucky Barnes was going to suffer and you were going to enjoy every second. You just didn’t count on how much you would enjoy it.

MASTERLIST

Chapter Ten - The Lies We Tell

A steady beeping pierced the air, rousing you from your sleep. You grumbled and reached out to find your phone without having to open your eyes so you could shut it up and go back to sleep but something grabbed your hand. Or rather someone. Everything came flooding back and your eyes shot open.

You wrenched your hand from Tony’s grasp and started frantically patting your chest.

“Whoa, whoa you’re alright. Calm down.” Tony assured you, grabbing your hands and making you look at him.

“I, but… I was. What’s going on?” You spluttered, your voice hoarse and croaky.

There were monitors and IV drips attached to you and you resisted the urge to claw at them, if Tony let them be put on you then you must need them.

He let go of your hands and held out a cup with a straw to your lips and you blinked. Water. That was a wonderful idea. You gratefully sipped at it and it soothed your dry throat.  You looked at him properly then. His skin was sallow, his eyes dark and tired.

“You were hurt, you’re in the med bay.” He explained.

“Then why do you look like the one who should be in this bed?”

“Well don’t tell anyone but I might have been slightly worried about you.” He joked.

You let out a huff of laughter.

“What happened?” You asked.

“What do you remember?”

“The mission. South Mexico. That’s the last thing I remember.” You said.

“That was three days ago. You got pretty banged up. you’ve been here since.” He explained.

“I… jumped off a cliff. I went full Vernichtung.”

“You did. There were Hydra agents scattered in the jungle, you stopped them from escaping. There was an earth controlling mutant on their side and she caused an earthquake that made the cliff collapse. You were hit by the rubble, just as you were coming back to yourself. It knocked you unconscious.”

“Ouch.” You muttered

“You should be fine now. You can’t suddenly speak French or anything though right?”

“J'ai appris à parler plusieurs langues quand j'étais enfant. Tant mieux pour conquérir le monde avec.” You snarked.

“Right you already spoke French. I knew that, I was testing you.” He covered.

“Bucky? Oh God Bucky was on the other cliff.” You remembered, sitting up in a panic and trying to get out of the bed.

Tony pushed you back down firmly but with care.

“Barnes is fine, not a scratch on him.” He muttered, irritation dripping from his tone.

You breathed a sigh of relief and looked him over again, noting how his eyes were rimmed red and he looked a little gaunt.

“You look like crap, I’m fine. You should get some rest.” You told him.

“So should you. Unconscious isn’t the same as sleeping.”

He was right, you did feel quite tired and as soon as you realized that a yawn broke free from your mouth and he chuckled.

“Get some sleep Kit Kat, you’ll need your energy for all your worried visitors in the morning.

You hummed gently in response and burrowed yourself deeper under the blanket, your eyes already closed. You felt a soft pressure on your forehead before Tony’s footsteps receded towards the door.

“Was it just my head?” You mumbled and he paused.

“What?” He said worriedly.

“I didn’t hurt my chest did I?” You asked sleepily.

“Why, does it hurt?”

“Hmm, no. Just feels like it should. Dunno why.” You muttered into the pillow and if he responded you didn’t hear it, you were already fast asleep.  

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The Avengers, minus Steve and Bucky were all congregating in on the couches in the common area, a film on the flat screen that none of them were paying attention too when Tony walked in tiredly. All heads snapped up to look at him as he made his way over to the bar, pouring himself a glass of scotch and draining it in one gulp.

“She’s fine. Doesn’t remember a thing after being on the cliff with Barnes.” He told them.

“Are you sure?” Wanda pressed.

“If she remembered what happened we’d know about it.” Tony pointed out unhappily.

“Are we sure this is the best thing to do?” Sam asked, yet again.

“If I may Interject? Whether or not we think this is the best thing to do is irrelevant, it has already been done. Turning back now would only cause more problems.” Vision said.

“He is right, what is done is done.” Wanda agreed.

“We have much more pressing concerns right now. Hydra have made an alliance with Docherty, which considering his agenda is worrying.” Natasha reminded everybody.

“I’ll add it to the list of secrets I’m keeping from my best friend.” Sam snapped.

“If you want to be the one to tell her that she slaughtered nearly 200 Nazi’s because they made a deal with her tormentor to try and capture her then be my guest.” Natasha offered coolly, unphased.

“Nobody tells her a damn thing.” Tony snapped and they all looked at him.

“As far as she will ever know, she’s been unconscious for the last three days, Cap and his buddy are on a mission for Fury and she won’t hear the name Docherty again until I can deliver her his head in a basket.” He continued.

“Man that’s dark.” Clint remarked and Tony slammed the glass down and stormed out.

“Well I guess we have our orders. We lie to her and secretly hunt down the insane scientist without her knowing it.” Sam said bitterly and stormed out after Tony.

“”Anyone else have anything they’d like to storm away over or can we watch the movie now?” Clint asked.

Natasha cuffed him over the back off the head but nobody said anything and they went back to not watching the film.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The next time you woke it was to the sound of footsteps approaching you in the medbay. You opened your eyes and blearily blinked up at the small unassuming man checking your vitals.

“Bruce?” You asked.

“Good morning, Miss Stark.” He smiled at you.

You sat up and grinned at him.

“You’re back!” You exclaimed, pointing out the obvious.

“I’m sorry I missed your party but I was very happy for you when Tony told me.” Bruce said.

“It’s alright Bruce, your work is really important. I know that.” You assured him.

“About that, I would like to talk to you later, when you’re feeling up to it.”

You frowned at him, what could Bruce want to talk to you about concerning his work? You weren’t a scientist, you didn’t understand most of what he said. You didn’t see what you could contribute.

“Ah, you want to run some tests don’t you? What do you need doc? Blood? Spinal fluid? Pound of flesh?” You joked.

He smiled fondly and shook his head.

“Nothing like that, the samples I took from you last time were more than sufficient. They were actually quite enlightening. I just want to talk about what I discovered.” He assured you.

“It’s nothing to worry about, I promise.” He added upon seeing your nervous expression.

You were going to press him for more information rather than wait until later but a familiar tread of footsteps was hurrying towards you.

“We can talk about it later, after Sam fusses over me.” You told the good doctor just as Sam came trotting through the door.

Sam wasted no time is clucking at you like a mother hen.

“If it’s not Rogers it’s you. Can we go one mission without someone ending up in here?” He demanded.

“A fucking cliff fell on me Sam, how is that my fault?”

“Don’t try and play innocent with me missy, do you have any idea how worried I was about you? I’ve been going out of my mind for days.”

“I’m sorry, I’ll try to avoid rubble hurtling at me from the sky in future. I promise.” You apologised with your best puppy dog eyes.

He visibly softened and leant down to hug you.

“You scared the hell out of me kiddo.” He whispered in your ear earnestly.

You felt incredibly guilty then and hugged him back as best as you could in the awkward position.

“I’m really sorry Sammy, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Sorry to interrupt this touching reunion but I actually woke you up to tell you you’re completely healed. You can leave if you like.” Banner said, looking uncomfortable but it was betrayed by the amusement and fondness in his eyes.

“Oh thank god, I’m starving.” You admitted.

Previous trips had taught you that while the medbay food came from the same place as the rest of the food in the compound it somehow tasted much worse.

“I’d normally recommend having something light to start but your enhanced metabolism can probably handle a real meal. In fact I insist you get some protein. Doctors orders.” Banner told you before he left.

“Did you hear him say you have to make me breakfast, cause that’s what I heard?” You asked Sam.

“Yeah yeah, that’s what he said.” Sam said with an eyeroll.

“Come on sleeping beauty, you shower, I’ll cook.” He said, picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder.

“Sam I can walk!” You protested.

And kept protesting until he dumped you on the floor outside your room and jogged away.

“I hate you.” You grumbled.

“No you don’t.”

No, you really didn’t you thought with a fond grin.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The concussion hadn’t left any adverse effects, the pounding in your head was from Thor’s booming voice. As soon as he had spotted you in the kitchen he had roared with joy and picked you up, crushing you against his much larger body and yelled about his joy at your recovery.

You massaged your temples and scowled. Stupid big blonde teddy bear. You had eventually extracted yourself from his grasp and escaped the kitchen and your chattering team mates. You loved them, you really did but they were acting like you had never had a concussion before. Yes you were unconscious for three days but that wasn’t a huge deal. They were acting like you had nearly died, what with all the shouting and hugging.

You padded through the halls towards Tony’s lab, planning on hiding under his desk again. You saw him and Bruce through the glass and remembered Bruce saying he wanted to talk with you and your curiosity rekindled, pushing back your mild headache. The doors opened automatically for you, courtesy of Friday and you strolled in.

Bruce looked up and waved at you as Dum-E whizzed over, spinning around in circles excitedly.

“Hey little guy, guess you missed me as well.” You chuckled, leaning down to pat him on the head.

Dum-E patted your knee in return and scooted away, returning a second later with a chair he was pushing along the floor towards you.

“Hey, what did you want to talk about?” You asked Bruce, throwing yourself onto the empty chair and rolling it over to Tony’s desk who ruffled your hair in greeting and went back to his tinkering.

Bruce looked at Tony who nodded. Bruce picked up a bunch of papers and came over and stood in front of the desk.

“The files on you we extracted from project Vernichtung weren’t complete, do you remember?”

You nodded.

“Your father and I have been curious as to what Docherty had taken the time to remove from them before he made his escape that day. We think we might know now. I’ve been doing extensive research on your genetic make up, trying to understand it. Would you like to know what I have found out?” He asked.

Bruce had asked you a while ago if he might study you. While you weren’t entirely comfortable with the idea you had acknowledged that Bruce wasn’t like any other doctor you had been subjected to. Tony trusted him and you trusted Tony implicitly so you had agreed.

He had promised to be honest with you regarding whatever he might discover and assured you that you could say no or change your mind at any point. Knowing he was the hulk had gone a long way in getting you to trust him, he was the only person who could possibly understand how you felt about Vernichtung and was your best shot at finding out if there was a way to remove it.

“I want to know. But keep it simple, I don’t understand any of the big words.” You joked.

“Your files said that you were created from a unique blend of several individuals DNA strands, all spliced together and implanted in a fertilized egg. Your embryo was then grown in an incubator and subjected to gamma radiation and injections of a knock off super soldier serum. Scientifically a lot of what was in those records was dubious at best, especially since there was nothing to back it up. No evidence or explanation.” Bruce said.

You knew all this already, you were well aware you were grown in a lab.

“You weren’t the first attempt. You were the first and only fetus to survive.” He told you.

That wasn’t surprising but it was still made you feel ill.

“Why me? What made me so special?” You whispered shakily.

Bruce looked apologetic.

“Because of the serum. It was passed down genetically to you, not injected directly. Your fetus wasn’t subjected to Gamma radiation directly either, your host was.”

“My host?”

“I’m sorry. Docherty lied to you, you weren’t artificially grown in the laboratory like his other attempts. You were born, like any other child. We, myself and a trusted associate of mine found two sets of genes in your autosomal chromosomes. Maternal and Paternal.”

He pulled off his glasses and wiped them nervously, looking to Tony. Tony took a deep breath and turned to look you in the eye.

“You have a mother and a father. You have biological parents.” Tony told you.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The lot thickens! And I swear, I’m not doing some weird,gross plot twist where Bucky or Steve is her dad. 

@dugan365 @fluffeh-kitty @memanda17 @krystallynx@theonelittleone @piscesbarnes @free-as-fishes@tarastudiesalot @captainamericasbeard @buckybearbabe98@nerdandproud-86  @clarkesardothien @harrison-shot-first@chook007 @thejourneyneverendsx @thelostallycat@inquisitor-selvala selvala

@the-corruptor @iover  @buckitybarnes @kendrawr-kitkat  @Pheonix-Whiskey-Tears @the–real-wombat @fairislesheets@angiept

@pizzarollpatrol @payformycollegepls  

[moistwithgender]

Monthly Media Roundup (June-July 2019)

Well, I neglected doing a post last month, and now another has passed. I haven’t done too much, about three games each month and not anything else media-wise, so let’s get it all done right now!

Little Nightmares (PC/Steam): 

These types of spooky “cinematic platformers”, like LIMBO and INSIDE, never really scare me or fill me with dread. Part of this may be that due to the trappings of cinematic platformers. Checkpoints are very fair, and nothing is too difficult because priority is on delivering the story. Little side challenges exist, like trying to light all the candles or break all the porcelain dolls in the short 3-hour run of the game, but these are also pretty reasonable, even if you’re in a chase sequence. I’m reminded of a youtuber I briefly followed who talked about how horror games aren’t scary anymore, and somewhat unintentionally delivered the point that as you become accustomed to the limits of a medium, and therefore are less likely to be surprised by it, you’re also much less likely to be scared by it. It’s a somewhat unfortunate and inevitable trade-off to becoming more invested in a hobby. When I was a kid, all games held infinite possibility, and so an NPC in Harvest Moon telling me that wild dogs came out at night led me to think that night time held the possibility of ENEMIES in a game without combat. What the NPC meant was that you should build fences. As an adult who has spent my life playing games, I can tell you that a game is almost never going to put you in a situation without the means to deal with it. If there’s going to be combat, you’re going to know how combat works before an ambush. If there’s an escape sequence, you’re going to be in an area that facilitates your escape (often a narrow space that leads you in a direction while also making it as harrowing as possible). Games are theme park rides, and while learning that can make seemingly difficult games more manageable and enjoyable, it also gradually disillusions you. Thankfully, there are always new things to learn if you keep an open mind.

The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time 3D (3DS): 

2019 has been about thoroughly enjoying the games that I considered overrated in my young adulthood. I joked on twitter that 70% of my personality was disliking Final Fantasy VII and Ocarina of Time, and honestly, it might as well have been. I earned a lot of undeserved respect in college through arrogantly spouting hot takes about “objectively good art”, and a lot of people reasonably assumed this must mean I know exactly what I’m talking about. The way I process art and media is much looser and more personal than it used to be, partially due to burning out and becoming too exhausted to deal with other arrogant people. I think a lot about how tiring I had to be for other people to talk to. Watching Tim Rogers bleed his personal trauma into his video series on the subtleties of FF7’s japanese script was the most instrumental in turning me back toward the game. When Square Enix revealed gameplay footage of the remake at E3 this year, I was hooting and hollering with the longtime fans.

But, this is about Zelda, not Final Fantasy. I had already played through OoT, as hurriedly as possible, just to say I had done it. It was the better part of a decade ago, at the urging of a then-girlfriend who had nostalgia for it. Frustrations with the Water Temple in the original version are valid despite it being largely well designed, due to some minor shortsighted-ness that blows up into nagging issues, but I think I had put myself in the headspace to dislike it from the get-go. Similarly, I didn’t want to do any collecting in the game as a whole. I had convinced myself that there was no joy to be found in collecting in games (a take bereft of nuance). When the point of Zelda games is to inspire the player to explore every nook and cranny in search of rewards, going in as a player and stubbornly trying to avoid any of that ensures that you’ll miss the point of the whole experience. I’m not sure what it was that made me want to go back. It might be that I wanted to prove my younger, cockier self wrong, and pave over my old evaluations with more nuance. 

It certainly worked out that way, as several previous opinions changed entirely. Ruto used to be annoying to me, but was now one of my favorite characters. Doing all the little minigames felt rewarding in itself, and in turn I was unexpectedly rewarded with important items (they really did bet everything on the entire world they’d made). The Water Temple, now tweaked for a bit more convenience in the 3DS version, was extremely interesting. The side quest to acquire the Biggoron Sword was easily doable, whereas I had grown up assuming it impossible. And the story which had never appealed to me (because I wouldn’t let it) now felt relatable in a way I hadn’t expected. Link intends to do good, but through unfortunate circumstances and honest mistakes becomes unable to take part in the world, and it spirals downward for years as he remains trapped in a room, aging but inactive. Something about that mirrors my own experiences with depression. Sure, Link, can travel back to his younger self at any time, but there’s still a powerlessness in the inability to affect the seven year gap. You can flash back, but you can’t change what you’ve lost.

Banjo-Kazooie (N64): 

You know, as a kid I probably would have just accepted that Grunty was evil, but as an adult it’s hard not to see her as a product of her environment. Obsessed with asking her cauldron who the objectively prettiest in the world is, she seeks out and kidnaps the younger girl given the title in an attempt to steal her youth. Every character in the game describes Grunty as ugly, rather than evil, and even her own sister shows up in every area to tell you how gross she is and how terrible her lifestyle is. I ended up sympathizing with her more than anyone else. I’ve only played half an hour of Banjo-Tooie, but it was a relief in multiple ways to see her pivot to straight up murder after rising from the dead.

Despite playing Donkey Kong Country multiple times growing up, I’d never really grown to love Rare’s in-house aesthetic of big-eyed cartoony animals. It might be hypocritical, but Smash Ultimate’s reveals for both King K. Rool and Banjo (and) Kazooie made me see the charm in these characters. Something about how Smash canonizes characters as essential pieces of game history always causes me to drop any negative pretense and adopt them as favorites. It’s a little intellectually hypocritical, but I can’t help liking what I like. After the trailer for B-K in Smash, I immediately started up the original game in Retroarch. Thankfully the core I used was advanced enough to play the game without issues (the same cannot be said for Tooie), as other alternatives were expensive or hard to get a hold of. While the slightly-mean humor and talking animate objects took a bit of getting used to, I get it now. I get the children’s show aesthetic they were aiming for, and I appreciate the feel of the physics and control of the interspecies friendship of the protagonists working in tandem with each other, even if the game is at times quite difficult.

Dragon Quest I, II, & III (SNES): 

Yes, I did play through three JRPGs in a row! And yes, you might notice that the hero of Dragon Quest XI (and VIII, and IV, and III) was also announced for Smash Ultimate. They recently released, as of this writing! A lot of what I’ve been playing has been influenced by outside forces, whether it be Nintendo news or friends, but I’m not bothered at all when otherwise I might not have the energy to play anything. The games I’ve been playing are also ones I’ve intended to play for a while, so the excuses have been convenient for me. Though, actually, this decision had less to do with the Smash announcement and more to do with the upcoming re-release of DQXI, which seems to be related to the original three games, known as The Erdrick Trilogy. I had heard that you can play XI on its own, but that there is an extra layer of appreciation to be had if you’ve played the original trilogy. Me being me, I naturally queued them up. I chose the older fan translations of the SNES remakes, and though I did finish them, I can tell you that they have their fair share of bugs (DQII even has a game breaking glitch I had to finagle through using save states across multiple versions, phew). Besides that, those old translations lack the modern localizations of the games, so if they namedrop something in XI, there’s a chance it’ll go over my head. Oops! If you want to play these games, the best versions are currently on mobile phones.

Around a decade ago I was in early college, with no friends except for those still in high school or at another university. I was very lonely and nervous. I started playing Dragon Quest V purely by chance, and it served as the perfect salve for that loneliness, with its lonely child protagonist traveling around the world accumulating found family. It’s one of the more poignant and cathartic JRPGs I’ve ever played, and for the next decade I would actually be bothered that the rest of the games didn’t live up to the catharsis of DQV.

In revisiting the roots of the series, and playing it through to see how it develops from title to title, it finally clicked with me, and continues to click with me, as I keep learning more about the series. Rather than comparing every entry to DQV, I should have been comparing them in order. This might sound obvious, but it really did make a world of difference to see that V’s narrative is placed on top of the foundation the previous games set, rather than a singular case of lightning in a bottle. And the games have always featured loneliness, but in differing contexts, and to different degrees. The hero of DQI is almost entirely alone through the full game. In DQII, the princess comes from lonely circumstances, and one of the princes comes down with a sickness that leaves him temporarily unable to help his friends. In DQIII you can make as many team members as you want, but you grow up with an absent father, and your own good deeds receive bittersweet resolution. They are all games built on simple settings and followed through with empathy. The series is at times disarmingly heavy, which is part of what makes the games as memorable as they are. You’re never quite as prepared for Dragon Quest as you think you are.

As of this writing I’m currently half-way through a replay of Dragon Quest IV, and I’m enjoying it a lot more. I’m looking forward to replaying V. I have no idea what VI will be like. I’ve heard it’s a lower point in the series, but that’s what I heard about II as well, and I ended up loving it, so who knows. Dragon Quest is good.

---

Well, I managed to catch up. I didn’t get into the finer details of the DQ playthroughs, but DQIII is honestly so good I don’t want to spoil it for anyone (you should play these games). Maybe in August I’ll actually get back to watching and reading things. Maybe I’ll try to keep these things to a single paragraph per item, to make it more manageable to read. Let me know what you think, if you think.

[harryseyebrows]

give me your experience in full detail about harry’s show... i need to mentally prepare myself for msg

1. there is nothing that can prepare you for the moment he first comes on stage. its indescribable. we spend so much time on here reblogging pictures and videos and interacting with content about or surrounding harry, that you can sometimes lose touch with the actual human person who its all for and about. but when you see him, its just.... amazing. theres not a strong enough word for it. and to be in a room where everyone is feeling that way? the palpable excitement and joy?? you can feel it in your blood

2. i know this point has been exhausted by anyone and everyone, but he is truly meant to be a performer. we knew this from when he was in 1d but nothing will ever touch him being on his own. you can tell that having the band up there makes him feel more comfortable, and given how much he interacts with them and makes them a part of the show, you know that him doing his ~solo stuff~ is not about trying to hog the spotlight. he’s a self-proclaimed narcissist, but dont be fooled; harry styles is a ham but he’s not selfish or arrogant. he still needs his support group, he still needs to be able to shard a bond with the people he performs with so that he can be confident and comfortable, and try to afford them the same. he works the stage like its the only thing he’ll ever do, giving it 110% with the most genuine adoration for his audience that ive seen from anyone, ever. he doesnt just wave blindly or make grand sweeping gestures. he looks at people, really looks at people, and tries to make a connection with individual people in a room full of thousands. im pretty sure if he had the time to do that with every single person, he would. he’s chatty and loves to joke, talking to people like theyre old friends, and just for a moment, he turns the dynamic between fan and celebrity on its head. he’s hardly ever still, moving and bopping along like he’s in his own little world, but that world also happens to house the audience and everyone else in the room. youre standing there, 1 of thousands of people, and you can feel like youre one-on-one with him. he’s just incredibly personable and good-natured. and then when he’s not being a professional nice young man, he’s exploding with energy and utilizing the entire stage and all of his limbs. ‘born for it’

3. he’s so funny. he’s goofy and charming and not afraid to be weird or awkward, and its just really admirable, to see him up there, clearly having a great time, laughing and smiling. i loved seeing the more ~private~ moments between him and the band, if anything can be considered private when performing. but he’s constantly grinning at them and making faces, sharing silent jokes or saying things in passing that we cant hear. and of course, you never quite know whats gonna come out of his mouth next when he spots someone or something that earns his attention from the audience. he pokes fun at people but he also pokes fun at himself. it’s just nice. comfortable, even, when he talks to people from the crowd. if youre in the back and out of range for what he can see, and he can make you feel like the only two people there, i cant even begin to imagine what it must be like when he has his laser beam focus on you, directly. 

4. his voice is incredible. all of the little runs and ad-libs that he does are great. i remember reading a quote from a while ago, when he was still in 1d, and someone had said that harry has a great ear and that harmonies and other such things come really easy to him. and i always think about that when i hear him sing live, whether in concert or in a video. the tone quality of his voice is so beautiful, even when its being amplified to crazy decibels. you can tell he puts his whole heart and soul into every song he sings, whether its a slow one like mmith or the absolute banger that is kiwi. and its so fun to hear his renditions of old 1d songs -- the arrangements are so good and its so nice to hear those songs with just his voice. sott is still just That Song™ and hearing it live is something that stays with you forever. 

5. THE OUTFIT. when the screen went up, i was so excited to simply see him that i wasnt even thinking about ‘oh what is he wearing’ until about 5 minutes in when i realized that i was no other than harris reed. harry has always marched to the beat of his own drum, and we’ve poked fun at his fashion sense for years, from the toe-revealing brown boots, to the double plaid button downs. and it wasnt really until the white gucci floral suit that, in my opinion, he started to really come out of his fashion shell in a big, loud, in your face way. its been so interesting to watch him experiment over the years with different trends, different styles, different vibes, etc. but now he’s still just as adventurous, if not MORE, but in a really refined and arguably more cohesive way. because while all of his outfits are different and wild, the unpredictability and diversity make up a category all on their own; they common thread among them is that they’re all so unique. and while we might not like every single look or every single suit, no one can deny that he’s going out there and putting his own stamp on the men’s fashion world. look at the number of little boys who adore him and put on printed suits to be like him. what he’s doing matters. and he looks so comfortable and so in his element when he’s on stage, wearing whatever flowy or glitter ensemble thats on the docket for that evening, prancing around and looking like he doesnt have in care in the world that his trousers are flared and he has a giant silky bow around his neck. i love that he appreciates new and adventurous designs, and it really pays tribute to his character that he supports different designers, like harris reed, whos still in school and is getting the recognition he deserves, 100% on his own merit but also because harry helped boost his platform. harry is doing his own thing, doing the whole glitz and glamour performance thing, but none of it feels cheap or over the top. its just right and really reflects his personality and style. go on with ur bad self, harry.

6. the butt. what can i say? its now an element of the show. she’s plump and proud. he worked hard to get her where she is and she deserves to be showed off. like two beautiful melons draped in fabric, whether it be a solid color, black, a print, or glitter. she does it all. and she does it well. AND shes au natural. no fat transfers here. just smooth, firm but also pleasantly supple, muscle and butt meat. surely youve heard of all you can eat buffets, but his butt takes it to a whole new level. that is a multi-course meal and then some. the glass of water you have when you wake up in the morning, parched and in need of something to help your dry mouth; breakfast, something healthy but still delicious... some thick maple and brown sugar oatmeal; lunch, a perfectly toasted grilled cheese with tomato soup; dinner, some top sirloin steak because you need some MEAT, accompanied by potatoes and another less starchy vegetable, perhaps a green bean?; dessert, cake of course. and all the snack in between. delicious. 

[azuresquirrel]

OKAY FOLKS, MY INTITIAL HOT TAKES ™ ON STAR WARS: THE LAST JEDI, BEFORE I EXPOSE MYSELF TO ANY OF THE DISCUSSION OR DISCOURSE. UNLESS IT IS NOT CLEAR, THIS POST IS SPOILER-TASTIC.

Alrighty, before we get to the meat of the thing let me give ENTIRELY too many disclaimers:

-I would not consider myself a Star Wars Expert. I’d say I’m a fan and about a half-step up from the standard casual moviegoer. I love the movies, the original trilogy was a big deal in my childhood. I have encountered the EU in small bits – a novel here and there, an episode of a cartoon here and there. But I am decidedly not a person who is Keeping Up with the billions of Star Wars media out there so I want it clear that’s the perspective I’m coming from.

-Also my Overall Take on the movie is generally positive and I also think I will enjoy it more on a second viewing, whenever that may be. But I did go into it, given the non-spoilery rumblings I’d heard to either Love It or Hate It. I’d say neither is the case. I Liked it, which really is something of a disappointment, but perhaps that second viewing would move it up. Also I will likely be more detailed on the stuff I had problems with than the stuff I liked, but the stuff I liked did outweight the stuff I had issues with.

-As to “where” I would rank this movie in my personal rankings . . . bros, I don’t know. I have immense childhood built-in bias to Episodes IV – VI. Better than the prequels, OBVIOUSLY (which let’s be real, the prequels had SOME good stuff in the them but it sure is a lot of bullshit to wade through). I never really gave my Official Take on Rogue One because IT WAS THE DAY THAT CARRIE FISHER PASSED, and I honestly think it will take me a while to be ABLE to watch it again because I associate it so strongly with her passing. But here’s my Take anyway: it had good concepts and a goddamn killer third act, but the first two acts were a goddamn SLOG and I just could not find Jyn an investing protagonist for all that I tried. I’d rank The Last Jedi over Rogue One – I had a similar “when are we going to get to the fireworks factory” deal with it, but still the stalling period was more enjoyable in The Last Jedi than in Rogue One. And it falls short to The Force Awakens to me. The Force Awakens felt more focused, and it had more of what I personally was looking for – that “SHIT YEAH I’M WATCHING STAR WARS” feeling. The Last Jedi got there EVENTUALLY but it got there really really late. I pretty much enjoyed The Force Awakens the whole way through whereas I was feeling a good deal of FRUSTRATION a ways into The Last Jedi.

So, let’s get to specifics:

-Well, I mean I think it’s clear why I think a second viewing will improve my opinion on the film. I spent a LOT of it WAITING and FRUSTRATED and thinking “WHEN ARE WE GOING TO GET TO THE FIREWORKS FACTORY/THE POINT.” I had Concerns about things, not knowing where they were going (AND I THINK VALIDLY SO AT THE TIME), so since it largely ended up in places that I LIKED maybe I’ll be able to enjoy the waiting period a lot more in the future.

-Look, I know that Star Wars movies are Events and are never short but fucking, this movie was still TOO LONG. Felt the same about Rogue One (but less so here), didn’t feel that way about The Force Awakens.

-Well let’s see, in my mind there were basically four plots in this movie – Rey and Luke, Finn and Rose, Poe and the Rebels, and Kyle Ron Bullshit (I suppose some would argue that Kyle Ron bullshit was pretty much a part of the Rey and Luke plot. Technically, they are probably correct. IN MY NON-TECHNICAL MIND, IT IS A SEPARATE THING GIVEN I THOUGHT “OH THIS SHIT AGAIN” WHENEVER HE CAME ONSCREEN). The overall: Finn and Rose was GREAT THROUGHOUT, THE MOST MOVIE-ISH OF THEM AND THE MOST ENJOYABLE AND I LOVE THEM AND ALSO BB8. Rey and Luke I ALSO LIKED A WHOLE, WHOLE LOT, THOUGH I IMAGINE THERE MAY BE ~CONTROVERSY~ THERE. However I also felt a good deal of Frustration and Concern thanks to all the Kyle Ron Bullshit inserted there. Poe and the Rebels . . . . . oooooooooooooof. Yeah. That was a thing.

-On a more shallow note: one thing that was uniformly good throughout was all the NEW STAR WARS CREATURES. Icicle-foxes on mineral planet (and actually being of MINOR PLOT IMPORTANCE), stupidly adorable giant rabbit-horses, JUDGEMENTAL FISH NUNS, and the godawfully adorable merchandise mandate of the porgs. We didn’t get that much in the way of exciting new Star Wars planets/worlds, but the creatures made up for it.

-Okay I don’t count it as new because we saw it at the end of The Force Awakens, but I was extremely appreciative of Ireland: Luke’s picturesque Cranky Jedi Exile Planet. THE SOUTHWEST COAST OF IRELAND, LAND OF MY ANCESTORS, IS BEAUTIFUL.

-I HAVE A LOT OF EMOTIONS ABOUT LUKE SKYWALKER: MY DEAD GAY DAD/SON (courtesy of spaceoperetta, that joke). I just . . . loved . . . my heart . . . .

-OLD CRANKY LUKE HAVING RETIRED TO HIS ANGRY GAY PICTURESQUE EXILE PLANET BECAUSE HE HAD THE HUBRIS ™ AND FAILED ™. JUST. RELATABLE.

-REY JUST FUCKING FOLLOWING HIM FOR ALL HIS CRANKY EXILE DAYS, BEING JUST A FUCKING STUBBORN.

-All the stuff Luke had to say about The Force and why the Jedi were crap was just . . . GOOD. I APPROVE.

-And Force Ghost Yoda ends up burning the damn tree anyway, what a troll.

-. . . why do I have the feeling that Luke in The Last Jedi is going to become my new AA4 Phoenix? I just have a HUNCH. YES HE MADE SOME BAD CHOICES ™ AND IS OLD AND BITTER BUT. I GET IT. FOLKS, I GET IT.

-And the whole END when he ASTRAL-PROJECTS AWESOMENESS ONTO MINERAL PLANET. BEING AWESOME AND OLD AND SASSY. PULLING SOME STRAIGHT-UP AIRBENDER MOVES ON KYLE RON.

-I was keeping the tears back throughout the movie but the Leia and Luke scene BROKE ME.

-And then he dies (as I expected), looking out at the double sunset just like in A New Hope fucking forty years ago. I CRIED SOME MORE.

-I HAVE A LOT OF EMOTIONS ABOUT LUKE SKYWALKER.

-Okay REY. Somehow felt like there was . . . less of Rey in this film than in TFA? Like probably actually not but it felt like she got to do more STUFF in TFA. And the CONCERNS did not help. BUT YES, REY WITH A LIGHTSABER, REY PILOTING THE FALCON, REY MOVING SOME FUCKING ROCKS. REY!!!!!!

-Also can the third movie NOT go back on the conclusion that we came to re: Rey’s parentage from this film? Her “coming from nothing” having just regular-ass junker parents, she DOESN’T have that ~special Skywalker blood~. PLEASE. PLEASE DON’T GO BACK ON IT, SERIES. BECAUSE I LIKE IT. She “doesn’t have a place in this story” in the Multigenerational Skywalker Family Drama. BUT SHE IS REY!!! SHE IS HERSELF AND CAN BE GREAT ANYWAY!!!! THE FORCE IS NOT “A POWER TO MOVE ROCKS” AND IT’S NOT MIDICHOLIRAN BULLSHIT, IT ISI WITHIN HER AS IT IS EVERYTHING! THAT STRENGTH COMES FROM HERSELF DAMMIT.

-(okay bad joke time, you all know I was totally thinking “YES REY, FIND YOUR GAY DESTINY IN THE GIANT SEAWEED VAGINA” re: the Empire Strikes Back ripoff cave that only shows you your own face).

-Before I get to The Issues – FINN AND ROSE WERE GREAT AND I LOVE THEM!!!! I AM GLAD THAT ROSE ARTICULATED THE REBELLION SO WELL!!!! THEY WORKED GREAT TOGETHER!!!! FINN CONTINUES TO BE A JOY!!!! BOTH OF THEM ARE THE HOPE OF THIS REBELLION!!!!

-AND SHE SAVED HIM AND I HAD THE EMOTIONS. AND I WORRIED SHE DIED BUT THANK GOD SHE DID NOT. AND THAT KISS WITH THE EXPLOSION IN THE BACKGROUND! FIGHTING FOR THE THINGS WE LOVE! EMOTIONS!

-ALSO SHOUTOUT TO FINN FOR HAVING MY REAL FIRST “SHIT YEAH I’M WATCHING STAR WARS” MOMENT WHEN HE GOES AT CAPTAIN PHASMA IN THE FUCKING BURNING DOWN SHIP. THAT WAS GOOD SHIT!!!!

-ALSO FINN RALLYING EVERYONE IN MINERAL PLANET BASE WITH HIS HOPE – YOU ARE THE TRUE FUTURE OF THE REBELLION!!!

-(okay but for the next movie can we have more than like two minutes of Maz Kanata? PLEASE?)

-Okay so circling back to Rey because of KYLE RON BULLSHIT. You can probably tell what my Concerns were. Like . . . I mean geez, I want to root for that hopefulness but CHRIST, COME ON HERE.

-I was happy that it turned out that their stupid ~connection~ was forged by Snoke, who is unimportant anyway and dies, that was frankly a bit of a relief.

-OKAY, BASICALLY I HAD WORRIES ABOUT THE SHIP I DARE NOT NAME, BUT LUCKILY REY IS GOOD AND KYLE RON CONTINUED TO BE AS HE IS, AS I EXPECTED. But can you blame me for the CONCERNS about their ~omg special Force connection~?

-But . . . . honestly it IS a problem with this new trilogy that I don’t care about Kyle Ron. So much of these movies are hanging on the fact that we have some investment in his decisions and his fate and I . . . don’t. Like when Leia was reaching out to him with The Force I should have Felt Something and I did not. I perhaps should have been slightly less “eh, can you really blame him” at the reveal that Luke did indeed for a moment consider offing him.  He is so important to so many of the characters but I just . . . . they’re trying to make him into a Zuko but he ISN’T. HE’S JUST SHITTY. I DON’T CARE ABOUT HIS SUPPOSED ~CONFLICT~. AND HONESTLY THAT’S A PROBLEM. HE *SHOULD* BE A COMPELLING VILLAIN THAT YOU FEEL CONFLICTED ABOUT. YOU SHOULD *WANT* HIM TO BE REDEEMED LIKE HOW YOU WANTED LUKE TO SUCCEED IN REACHING VADER LIKE IN RETURN OF THE JEDI. BUT I JUST. DON’T. CARE. HE’S JUST A SHITTY WHINY SPOILED MANBABY.

-So like on the one hand I was happy that SNoke and his stylish gold robe essentially ended up being UNIMPORTANT. He dies and it made little difference. Because I didn’t really care!

- . . . but then again, isn’t that similar to the Kyle Ron problem? Because like . . . if the whole dealio of this plot, that Kyle Ron was corrupted to the Dark Side and Sith Ways thanks to his Andy Serkis CGI fucker, then SHOULDN’T it matter a bit? WHO IS THIS GUY AND WHERE DID HE COME FROM? WHAT IS HIS MOTIVATION BESIDES “EVIL?” WHERE DID THIS SITH FUCKER POP UP FROM AFTER PALPITINE WAS OFFED? Like . . . I don’t personally care but for the story itself it SHOULD matter. Instead it’s just “and then Kyle Ron became Dark Side because The Evil Guy said so.” If you want something actually compelling you need to fucking put MORE into it.

-So then the part where we needed to care about the tracked and almost out of fuel Rebel Forces. One would think I would given that Leia was there (for like five minutes and also SHE USED THE FORCE TO SAVE HERSELF AND I HAD THE EMOTIONS) But. Well.

-Oh, and pausing to point out that Star Wars is getting BETTER with women as it has more women onscreen than ever but like – I was concerned about Rose dying with ALL THE DYING ASIAN WOMEN ONSCREEN. Yes the bomber ended up being her sister and important and it was a badass scene but like – could we not have killed her off IMMEDIATELY? Also was that Jasika (I’m not sure) who got unceremoniously blown up in her X-Wing? I’m just saying, STAR WARS STILL HAS SOME WAYS TO GO EVEN WITH REY AND ROSE.

-Also movie thank you for ultimately validating Purple-Haired Laura Dern as a good leader and a badass but I somehow doubt that will be the takeaway that most people have.

-BECAUSE I GUESS DREAMY POE DAMERON OF THE FORCE AWAKENS IS GONE AND REPLACED WITH A HOTHEADED CLONE WHO HAS A PROBLEM WITH WOMEN IN AUTHORITY OR SOMETHING.

-Like . . . why was it necessary . . . for this plot . . . for Poe to talk over and mansplain to and disobey orders from his fucking commanding officers who all just happen to be women.

-And I guess we’re not supposed to find him a rank hypocrite at the end when Finn disobeyed his orders to pull off from the Death Star But a Battering Ram (???) even though THAT’S WHAT POE’S BEEN DOING THIS WHOLE FUCKING MOVIE.

-Like god cutting back to those ships every time was TIRESOME and frankly I’m glad I did not have a ton of investment in Poe as a character before this or else I’d be RIGHT PISSED instead of just annoyed that the movie turned this character into a sexist and pretty much did not do ENOUGH to refute his ways. STILL ANNOYED THOUGH.

-Also is there any problem that the Empire/The First Order has encountered that they didn’t go “throw a Death Star” at it? I think a barked a laugh when they were like “IT’S MINIATURE DEATH STAR TECH.”

-Other disappointments – I THOUGHT KYLE RON WOULD STRAIGHT UP MURDER HUX AT LIKE TOO POINTS AND HE DIDN’T. I would’ve at least appreciated that ginger asshole getting murdered (especially when he slapped Finn I thought “M U R D E R”), but NOPE, KYLE RON MUST BE A DISAPPOINTMET IN ALL THINGS.

-THERE SHOULD HAVE BEEN MORE LEIA!!!!! AND NOW WHAT WILL THEY DO WITH THE NEXT MOVIE!!!!! BECAUSE CARRIE!!!!! I AM VERY UPSET!!!!!!!

-Oh Christ, this is so long and I’m kind of trailing off into shitpost territory, SO IF I HAVE MORE SHITPOSTY THOUGHTS I WILL HAVE THEM LATER.

-So good movie but I had FRUSTRATIONS.

-In conclusion: I LOVE LUKE SKYWALKER, MY DEAD GAY DAD/SON.

[brokenmusicboxwolfe]

On a post about Mom being in the hospital

omegadalek said: (Hugs)

Thanks. That meant a lot at a point I was totally freaking out!

I haven’t updated about it because I’ve had a bunch of technical difficulties keeping me from making new posts, but I wanted to let everyone know Mom came home yesterday and she’s fine. Well, she does have an infection that triggered the sodium levels taking a dive, but the antibiotics should deal with that. Mentally and (generally) physically she’s back to normal!

I have a lot I wanted to say about the last few days...

Not having anyone else to even ask “what do you think” is terrible. Feeling responsible for the life of someone you love who suddenly goes to someone who can’t speak two coherent sentences in a row is terrible. Having that person refusing to admit anything is wrong and fighting you as you try to help them is terrible. Having the person in trouble be your Mom is terrible. Basically, it was all pretty terrible.

There were adventures in snow driving to get to the hospital (BTW it was 7F when I got there, 47F when I left late in the afternoon as the thaw finally hit fast). The snow was still shin deep on the driveway, so digging was involved. The worst moment was either getting stuck half on and half off the highway because of the snowploe ridge or skidding on a completely iced over bridge. I got her there before dawn along that 10mile drive that quite sensibly had most people off the roads still. I turns out I have a knack for driving on ice and snow. Who knew!

There was the nightmare of dealing with doctors and nurses and trying to get them to listen to me. There was an assumption made because of her unkempt state (hell, I was wearing clothes I’d worn for that last week too! 36-44F indoor temps make personal hygene less urgent) that I was some sort of neglectful gaurdian of a senile (geez, she is anything but!) old lady and maybe I needed help to take care of her. Or to be reported to someone.

Speaking of nightmares, there was a bit with a catheter that had my PTSD kick in. Worse, they dismissed her saying they were hurting her, but the idiots ignored the fact I had ears and heard them outside discussing blood on the catheter and the damage they could have done to her.

The salt I had given her did save her neck, reluctantly confirmed when I FINALLY got the damn doctor to understand I gave it to her. “Oh, well maybe that’s why she has the symptoms but the sodium level isn’t lower.” I don’t think he ever got it was 3 spoonfuls, not just “a little” Yes, her sodium was still low but not probably anywhere as low as it had been, and foggy as she was mentally she was improving post condiment drugging (do NOT try this at home. Most people do not need to guzzle salt, not even her!)

There was excitement in the ER with one man screaming he was being held hostage. And another a cop wanted to be involuntarily committed, the hosptial didn’t, and both citing “covering their own ass” as an excuse.

Several nurses grumbled about how far they have to drive to get botox, and a male doctor (joking he didn’t want to get in trouble because of sexual harrassment, but....) saying with rolled eyes  “Girls!” 

Leaving Mom at the hospital was horrible. I had to get back to feed the animals (I hadn’t fed anyone in the morning and it was about to get dark again) but I did NOT like leaving her with a still scambled brain among people Ibdod NOT trust. Worse, this week is the anniversary of thinking Pop was just going to the ER for a few hours and instead he never came home (unless you consider the box of ashes Pop) A part of me was terrified this was the beginning of something terrible.

To be honest, I was making plans in my head of how to get her out of that hospital, even if it meant going to my brother’s. 

I was a wreck. All churned up with a mess of worries, fears, guilt and anger. Take my natural inclination to blame myself, deep concern for the only person in the world that loves me, my crushing phobia of health care professionals and PTSD over my own trauma at the hands of people in the field, an echo of the beginning of Pop’s death and a tendency to feel rage if someone is mistreated...well, the day was a nightmare for me.

I learned the physical effects of such emotions. A splitting headache, doubled up holding my stomach, feeling like a truck was parked on my chest, my whole body all aches and pains, feeling so weak it was like moving in slow motion even as my heart raced...needless to say I really couldn’t sleep. 

It got worse and worse until the moment I stepped into the hospital room and saw Mom. She was in a hospital gown, sitting in a chair and hooked up to an IV of antibiotics BUT she looked great! Her eyes were clear and bright and when she spoke there was no hint of a mentao fog at all. She was her. Astoundingly in that instant all my own physical manifestations disappeared. Weirdest damn thing. 

You have no idea how relieved I was. No, not relief, JOY. Having her brain back to normal means everything. To watch someone disappear and reappear so suddenly is stunning! There is always a hint of fear that this time she won’t be okay.

Hilarious fact: despite her low sodium problem and the fact it was a doctor in that very hospital that gave her the medical directions a couple years ago, they still wanted to tell her to drink plenty of liquids and have a low sodium diet. We pointed out why that would be fool hardy for her and, to her credit, the woman telling her agreed it should be ignored. 

They also told her to avoid fried foods, which we don’t eat. I know, we are freaks. When we said no problem, we don’t eat them, they didn’t believe us and got all lecturey! Look, whether we eat the stuff or not, everybody gets that eating lots of it is a bad idea. Not being believed was galling though. So what did Mom do on the way home after we ran a bunch of errands? Order fried food because they had pissed her off! LOL

Like I said, Mom’s home and back to herself in every way. And I am so very, very glad!

[littlemisswolfie]

Day 5: Time

AO3

When Pidge managed to set up an Earth clock in her room and sync it to the timezone her parents lived in, she was mostly expecting to use it to alleviate homesickness. She would look at it every once in a while and imagine what her parents and Matt were doing. What were they having for dinner? Was Matt working hard at the Garrison? That sort of stuff.

She didn’t expect to use it to tell the passage of time for herself.

She and Ezor were in her room while she cleaned up after working in her garden. Ezor reminded her a lot of Lance, and she felt closer to her than to Lotor’s other generals, so she wasn’t really shy about washing in front of her. Pidge lifted her face from the washbasin and caught sight of the clock in her vanity mirror. Then, eyes squinting, she turned to look at it sos the numbers and letters made sense.

[April 1, 20XX. 14:55:07]

“Huh,” she said, mostly to herself. “My birthday’s coming up.”

“Birthday?” Ezor asked, cocking her head a little to the side.

“Oh, it’s an Earth thing. We make records of the date of our birth and celebrate it every year. I’ll be turning twenty in two Earth days.”

“Does that have any significance in your culture?”

Pidge shook her head. “Twenty isn’t really a big milestone. I’ve been considered an adult in my culture for almost two years already, and the next big milestone is twenty-one, when I’d be allowed to drink alcohol. Birthdays are just a cause for celebration in general.” She found herself sitting on her bed next to Ezor while she spoke. “The friends and family of the person whose birthday it is will throw a party and give them presents. There’s usually a cake with the age of the person equalling the number of candles on top. Then the birthday person makes a wish and if they blow all the candles out in one breath, their wish is supposed to come true.”

Ezor clapped, a grin on her face. “That sounds fun! We should tell King Lotor! We haven’t had a party in ages.”

Pidge felt her cheeks heat up. “I can’t ask him to throw me a birthday party! That’s not how it works!”

“Why not?”

“It’s impolite to ask for a party to be thrown in your favor. It has to be done without you requesting it.”

Ezor did the alien equivalent of blowing a raspberry. “Humans are so complicated. Is it okay if I tell him, then?”

“Sure, knock yourself out.”

X

Pidge largely forgot about her conversation with Ezor since neither she nor Lotor brought the topic up. She shrugged it off, figuring the Galran culture simply had no room for birthday celebrations.

She’d never been so wrong.

When she woke up the day of her birthday, Lotor, already dressed for the day, presented her with a bouquet of—

“Daisies?” she asked, snatching the bouquet out of his hands to inspect the flowers. “How did you get daisies out here?”

He winked. “That’s part of the surprise, my love. Get dressed quickly and we can move on to the next part.”

Pidge gently set the bouquet down on the bed and dashed to her room to dress. Lotor met her back outside her room when she was done, and he easily slipped his hand into hers to lead her down the large stairs and to the dining room. Her skirt swished against her legs with every step she took. She’d found herself wearing more and more dresses unless she was working in the garden lately; Lotor never asked her to, but she saw how much he liked it when she did.

He pushed the button to slide the dining room door open, and Pidge was treated to the sight of her parents, Matt, and all of Team Voltron sitting around the table, talking and laughing. They all looked up when they heard the door open, and the grins that overtook each of their faces made Pidge’s heart swell.

Lotor pulled his hand out of hers and moved it to the small of her back, giving her a light push. “Go see your friends,” he said.

She smiled brightly at him and, on impulse, rocked onto her toes to give him a lightning-fast kiss on the cheek before rushing to the table.

X

After a loud, rowdy breakfast, during which a food fight almost broke out, Pidge and Lotor showed her friends and family around the castle. The Paladins crowded around Pidge as much as they could, brushing against her and bumping their shoulders together, and Pidge felt a swell of affection for her pseudo-adopted brothers. She could tell they’d worried about her here by herself, and she was determined to show them how well she was being treated.

Hunk was especially excited to see her tinkering lab, where she’d come up with a new kind of sentry bot with enhanced armor and aiming abilities. “Meet Rover the fourth!” she said proudly as she booted it up. It was just as tall as the original sentries, but more humanoid in the fluidity of its movements. “It can detect heat signatures as well as motion, and it’s heavy enough to make it hard to move and force open doors like we used to do.”

Lotor did a double take. “That’s how you used to get into our bases?”

“If we didn’t have Keith with us, yeah.” She turned back to address her friend group. “We haven’t tested them out for combat quite yet. Any takers?”

It had been almost a year since any of them had to engage in combat. Despite this, Keith, Shiro, Hunk, and Lance all individually beat a separate Rover IV with ease. They laughed and shoved each other after each match, and Pidge found herself joining in instead of being irritated at how much work she still had to do on the sentry. It felt… right.

X

Lotor had to do some work after lunch, so Pidge changed into some shorts and took her family and friends to her garden so they could chat while she worked. “It’s weird to see you voluntarily interacting with plants,” Keith joked. “I remember you griping about going to Olkarion all those years ago.”

“It’s actually really relaxing. Lotor comes to watch me garden sometimes, too. He says it helps him unwind between all the paperwork he has to do.”

“Speaking of Lotor…” Lance said, sliding in with a stupid grin on his face. “How’s the sex?”

At least five different people snapped “Lance!” at varying volumes and degrees of irritation. Pidge just winked and said, “Wouldn’t you like to know?” It was none of Lance’s business that they’d only gone as far as cuddling, but there was no harm in messing with his head.

She looked over her shoulder to see her parents, Matt, and Shiro all looking superbly uncomfortable at the idea of her having sex. “I’m a twenty year old married woman, guys,” she said, making them all flush. “You don’t need to act like I’m a kid.”

Her mother forced a little smile. “It’s just what parents do, honey.”

X

After that uncomfortable episode in the garden, Lotor whisked them all off to do some shopping in the capital. When he was informed of the name of the city, Lance sniggered, and Pidge punched him.

Lotor payed for all the party’s purchases, waving her parents’ and Hunk’s protests off with a “You’re here as part of Katelyn’s present. I’d never make you pay for anything.”

When they were done shopping, Pidge and Lotor escorted them all to the rooms they were staying in to store them with the rest of their luggage. Then Lotor brought them all back down to the dining room, where a delectable looking feast was spread out on the table for dinner. Somehow, it tasted just like a chicken dinner, with aromas to match. Pidge wasn’t quite sure how the chefs managed it, but with the way Hunk was grinning, she was sure he had something to do with it, which begged the question of just how long they’d all been here without her knowing.

Hunk disappeared into the kitchen when the feast had been ravaged and returned with a two-tiered cake with twenty unlit candles sticking out of the chocolate frosting. That was it. “How long have you jerks been here?” she demanded, though the grin on her face belied her joy.

Shiro bumped her shoulder with his. “We just got in yesterday. Ezor and Acxa took hiding us from you very seriously.”

Keith (because of course it had to be Keith) produced a box of matches to light the candles, and Lotor clapped so the lights would dim. He stood behind her, his warm, familiar hands coming to rest on his shoulder, and he ducked his head to whisper in her ear. “Make a wish, Katelyn.”

She closed her eyes and blew.

X

After Lotor and Pidge returned her friends and family to their rooms, they walked hand-in-hand back to Lotor’s room. Pidge had begun keeping some of her pajamas in his room for convenience, so they changed together. Instead of crawling right into bed, however, Lotor pulled Pidge over to the secluded seating area right next to his large window, overlooking a beautiful cliff. “What was your wish?” he asked her.

“Well, I can’t tell you,” Pidge teased. “If you tell anyone what you wished for, it won’t come true.”

“What if I could help you fulfill your wish?” He was leaning in closer now, one hand cupping her cheek.

“Maybe you could.”

“Katelyn, may I—”

Before he could finish his question, she pounced, snaking her arms around his neck and tugging his lips to hers.

[dongyoungkims]

stargazing with doyoung 💘

“Remember this moment, I will always stay by your side”

lmao this is literally the first scenario ive ever written -- im honestly not much of a writer i just thought it’d be fun since i love reading doyoung scenarios! hehe i wanted it to be lots of fluff but i couldnt really think of stuff to say but anyways,,,, enjoy my dudes! (also lyrics are from crush’s summer love!)

You had a long and stressful day. At this point, all you wanted to do was crawl and collapse on your bed. Right when you finished changing into your cozy pajamas, your phone lit up and you saw that you were getting a call from “the loml 💘” 

“Hi,” you tried to answer excitedly, but you couldn’t hide the tiredness from your voice, “what are you up to?” you asked.

“Nothing much,” Doyoung replied, “did you have a long day at work today?” he asked in a slightly concerned voice. Doyoung was always quick to tell how you were feeling based on just your tone of voice.

“Just a long day at work,” you sighed, “How was practice? Did you eat already?” 

“We just finished our meal, and practice was so funny today. Taeyong borrowed a hoverboard from the Dream kids and he was so terrified of falling,” he told you while trying to hold back his laughter, “I wish I got it on camera, but he didn’t understand how to move forward so he ended up spinning in circles a million times while screaming “Stop this please!!!! Someone save me!”” Doyoung laughed. 

You chuckled along with Doyoung. You always commended Doyoung for being a thoughtful boyfriend. You understood that he always tried his best to make you laugh. You always enjoyed hearing about the members, and this story is a new addition to the many embarrassing stories that come from the practice room.

After chatting and laughing about what happened with Taeyong, Doyoung could still sense the tiredness coming from your voice and wanted to help cheer you up more.

“Hey, since I’m finished with practice now, do you want to go on a little drive?” Doyoung asked. 

You were tired and already lying down in bed, but you felt like you were in desperate need of some fresh air. 

“Sure,” you agreed, “let’s go.”

You didn’t bother changing out of your pajamas. You chose comfort over looking cute plus you figured that you’ll be sleeping in his car so before leaving, you grabbed a few blankets to help keep you and Doyoung warm. 

Fifteen minutes later, Doyoung drove up to the front of your apartment. You hopped into the passenger seat and shot Doyoung a small smile. You wished that you could express more emotions, but you were so drained at this point. Doyoung gave you one of his classic, wide, gummy smiles and you couldn’t help but feel warm inside because just being in his presence gave you energy. 

“Where should we go tonight?” Doyoung asked. 

“Anywhere,” you replied while staring up at the handful of sparkling stars in the sky, “anywhere far away from the city lights.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Doyoung smiled as he played a playlist which consisted of R&B tracks which were always perfect for your late night drives. 

For the first few minutes, you both sat without saying a word, letting the music fill the car. 

Remember this moment I will always stay by your side No matter what I’ll always be with you Fallin in love again

Doyoung noticed you looking up at the sky, and rolled down the windows to let the cool, summer breeze flow into the car. You crossed your arms and rested them on the window. You positioned yourself so your head rested on your arms and a part of your head was out the window. Letting the wind ruffle your hair, you closed your eyes and breathed in the refreshing air. 

Doyoung looked over to his side mirror and was in awe of your reflection. Doyoung was always a fan of looking at you while you were preoccupied with other things. He loved seeing you from across the room and seeing how your radiant smile can light up a room. He’s not much of a sap though so he always pretends to be looking at something else when you turn his way so you can’t see how much his eyes gleam when staring at you. 

You were intently focused on letting the breeze ease your fatigue, and you began to come back to reality when you heard Doyoung quietly singing along to the lyrics. You couldn’t help but smile when you heard his voice. You loved hearing his voice. Just listening to him talk, sing, or hum made you feel better. 

“So, where are we going?” you finally asked. 

“Just a place I know away from the city,” he answered. “At the place we’re going to, you’re going to see what I see when I look at you.”

You were confused but decided not to question him. You held onto his hand and intertwined your fingers with his. You closed your eyes once again and relaxed while listening to the music. 

You didn’t realize that you dozed off, and you woke up to see Doyoung looking over you while humming to the music and playing with your hair. 

“Sorry, how long was I asleep?” You asked in a slightly groggy voice.

“For about an hour, but no worries, we arrived at our destination!” Doyoung exclaimed excitedly. 

You looked around, but there was nothing around you. It was empty, and the night felt darker than usual.

“Where are we?” you questioned in a confused tone. 

“In the middle of nowhere, but look up at the sky.”

Doyoung had opened up the sunroof of his car, and in front of your eyes was a plethora of stars. 

“Wow,” you whispered silently to yourself in awe. 

“Do you like it?”

“I love it,” you responded, still gazing wide-eyed at the view.

Doyoung looked over at you lovingly, and smiled to himself when he saw the pure joy and happiness that radiated from your face. 

“I’m glad,” Doyoung said in a relieved voice. 

He helped you pull down your seat so you were both laying down staring up at the stars. 

After you both enjoyed the view in silence for a few minutes, Doyoung rolled over onto his side so he was facing you. 

“Hey y/n, I know these stars are beautiful, but do you know what’s more beautiful?” he asked.

“Um, me?” you responded teasingly. 

“No, me,” he chuckled before showing off his smile. 

You rolled your eyes and said, “Yeah, okay” in a sarcastic tone before turning over onto your side to face Doyoung. 

You stared at Doyoung lovingly and smiled at him. “Thank you,” you whispered. 

“You’re welcome,” Doyoung whispered back before leaning forward and lightly pecking your forehead. Doyoung grabbed your hand and began to play with your fingers. He opened up your hand and began to repeatedly trace outlines of stars on your palm with his finger. It made your hand tingle because it was ticklish, but you thought it was cute so you didn’t pull your hand away. 

“So, what did you mean earlier?” you asked as you tried to recall the conversation from before. “Something about seeing something?” you said in a confused tone. 

“Yeah, I said we were going to a place to see what I see when I look at you. When I said that, I was talking about these stars. I wish we could see them better in the city, but that’s almost impossible considering the pollution and the city lights,” he explained. “Whenever I look up at these stars, I can see you in them. I don’t mean that I can physically see you in them, but I see you as this bright, shining figure in my life. It’s like each one of these stars represent one thing I love about you.”

You looked over in amazement as Doyoung continued, “There’s basically an infinite amount of stars in the sky, and everyday I find more reasons to love you. Some days, there are stars that shine brighter than the others and those represent what I love the most about you that day. It’s constantly changing and there are always new stars appearing. You always manage to make my day brighter.” 

You could feel yourself begin to blush because Doyoung was never so forward when it came to expressing his thoughts, especially about you. 

“These stars--,” Doyoung began to say before being interrupted by a peck on his cheek. Though it was dark outside, you could see his cheeks flush pink as he smiled and shyly put his hand to his cheek. You both smiled and grabbed each other’s hand and turned to face the night view once again.

“The stars are so beautiful,” Doyoung said. “Imagine if we saw a shooting star right now, what would you wish for?” he questioned. 

“But if I told you, my wish wouldn’t come true!” you proclaimed.

“I’m just speaking hypothetically! I’m just curious about what you’d wish for,” Doyoung said as he pouted. 

“If I’m going to be honest, I’m pretty happy with what I have in my life right now. I never expected that I’d be an assistant manager at the company I work at. I have friends and family that love and support me unconditionally. And most importantly, I have --”

“Me?” Doyoung interrupted.

“No, Ddongie,” you teased. Ddongie is the name of the pet bunny that Doyoung got you for your birthday. He told you that Ddongie would look over you whenever he was away. 

Doyoung crossed his arms and rolled over so his back was facing you. “Hmph!” 

“I’m kidding,” you said as you poked his back. “Of course, you’re the most important one in my life.” 

You pulled yourself closer towards Doyoung and hugged him from behind. You snuggled your face into his back and rubbed your face into his soft shirt. 

“You really do mean a lot to me,” you started, “I’m grateful for moments like this. Even if we’ve been dating for years now, you still make my heart do back flips every time I see you. I love seeing you smile on stage. I love seeing you happy doing what you love. I love how you make me feel like a better person.” 

Doyoung’s wide smile returned and he turned over to face you. He pulled you closer in his arms and joked, “I didn’t realize you were so in love with me, I guess I just have that effect on the ladies.”

You cringed and tried to escape his grip, but that caused him to hold onto you even tighter. Doyoung peppered your face with little kisses making sure to not leave any part of your face unkissed. 

“But hmm,” you began as you thought back to the question about shooting stars. “If I were to have one wish, I just want to remain this happy forever. I don’t mean this in a “I don’t want to ever be sad” kind of way, I just don’t remember a time when I felt so content with my life. You brought me so much happiness and I don’t ever want to lose you...” you whispered before choking up a bit. 

“Don’t worry,” he said before beginning to sing, “Remember this moment, I will always be by your side. No matter what I’ll always be with you, fallin’ in love again.”

“Thank you for all of this,” you said gratefully once again.

“Anything for you,” Doyoung said shyly before giving you one more kiss on your lips. 

[phawareglobal]

Allison Wells - phaware® interview 332

Pulmonary Hypertension Patient Allison Wells is a substitute teacher from Gander Newfoundland. In this episode, Allison discusses self-diagnosing her PH and her decision to adopt.

My name is Allison Wells, I'm currently living in Gander, Newfoundland. I am a substitute teacher and I have a two-year-old daughter and I was diagnosed with pulmonary hypertension at the age of 27 in 2017. I started realizing that something was wrong before Christmas the year prior. My earliest memory of thinking that there was maybe something wrong with me was when I was putting up my Christmas tree. I was bent over fluffing the limbs of the tree and every time I would stand back up I like I had a head rush. Just going up the stairs, I was getting winded, but it was winter and I just thought, well, I haven't been walking or being very active lately. [I thought] maybe once the spring came and I could get outside again and build up some endurance that was the whole issue, but it just kept getting worse and worse. I did see my family doctor and like many other people, it's not something that comes to mind right away since it is a rare disease. I was tested for allergies and asthma and kidney disease and few different things. I actually self-diagnosed myself, which I know they tell you not to like Google your symptoms, but I did and that was what I came out with, this disease met all the symptoms that I had. Maybe a month before I was diagnosed I was decorating for my sister's baby shower. Blowing up a balloon, I took a picture of myself and sent it to my friend. I was like, "Oh, blowing a balloon, not good for the pulmonary hypertension," as a joke. Then, a month later, when I was diagnosed that I actually messaged her and I told her that that was actually what I had and it was a shock, but kind of funny at the same time. My actual diagnosis came in May of the next year after I started having symptoms. I was at school and I went up a flight of stairs and got really lightheaded and actually passed out walking into a classroom full of grade nine students. There was another teacher there and someone caught me before I hit the ground, but they made me go to the hospital. I ended up being in hospital for an entire month. A lot of that was just waiting.

[I was] hooked up to heart monitors. My pressures were actually at 120. Everyone was super concerned. I couldn't do anything, I would just move from my bed, sit in a chair and I would set off the alarm because my heart rate was so high just from any small movement. The doctor that I'd seen, after looking at my report and my numbers wanted me to have the IV meds administered right away. He didn't want me to wait even overnight. He wanted to have it done that evening. He was really pushing for it. My mother was freaking out, wanted to have it done right away. I just thought it was going to be like, okay, here's some IV meds. We'll take it out in a couple of weeks’ time and start you out on some oral [therapy]. But he said, no, it was going to be for life and it was a port, and you’re going to have to mix your meds. You would have to have a special nurse. You'd never be able to swim or even shower regularly. I didn't want to do that until I spoke to a specialist. But the doctor that I was seeing said that he wasn't sure that I would even last through the night with how high my pressures were. But my vitals were fine, my oxygen was good, my blood pressure was fine, and he said he would consult with another doctor in another city. So he came back and said, okay, I agreed to wait. When I did finally see my specialist, maybe three or four days later, he came in and I had just showered and straightened my hair and had makeup on. I was sitting up in the bed and he was like, "You're the patient?" He was kind of surprised too with the numbers that he had seen, that I look so well. He said, "I heard they gave you a bit of a scare." I said, "Yeah, well, more so, my mom," but I was pretty calm throughout it all. He said, "Yeah, we're just going to start you on some oral medications. We wouldn't go to such a drastic step without trying other avenues first." Since I self-diagnosed myself, I knew that was one of the recommendations to not get pregnant, but up until seeing the specialist, I was maybe three weeks into a hospital stay, no one had actually, came out and said that to me. I just kept hoping, well, I'm sure that's the recommendation, but maybe it's not taken as seriously. But before I was released, my specialist and a representative from the medication company that I used, they came in and sat with me and went through a whole bunch of information. Finally, they brought up the topic of pregnancy and said that it was highly recommended that I don't ever get pregnant, because of the risks that it would pose for me and the baby. That was pretty devastating. It took me a long time to really let that sink in. But I knew wanting to be a mother and it didn't matter how it came about. I felt like my purpose of being here was being a mother, that was my ultimate goal in life. I just started researching other avenues. I considered surrogacy. A friend of mine said that she would be a surrogate. She had just had a baby herself, so she couldn't do it right away. But she said in a few years that would consider taking it on. But before we needed to go down that road, we adopted a baby girl. She brought so much joy and purpose to my life and I really don't know where I would be right now without her. Our adoption was actually a direct adoption, we'll call it. A friend of mine that had adopted from a territory in Canada. She adopted two little boys from there and she knew of a woman who was pregnant and was looking for someone to adopt her baby. She put us in contact with each other and when the birth mom approached her social worker, she named myself and my husband as the adoptive parents. The baby was never in foster care. It was a direct placement. We were named as the adoptive parents. We weren't on any lists for waiting. We didn't go through any adoption agency. I was diagnosed in May. In August, I had a conversation with my friend about my interest in adopting. In October, she messaged me and said she knew someone that was looking for someone to adopt her baby and my daughter was born in January. It wasn't really much of wait time. My diagnosis didn't have any bearings on if we were approved or denied. I did get a letter from my specialist, which wasn't even required. I just took it upon myself to get it just so there could be no questions and he just wrote a letter stating that my diagnosis wouldn't hinder me from raising the child. I submitted that to my social worker and there were no questions at all. A piece of advice that I would give someone who maybe would find themselves in a situation I was, I was only 27 years old, married, hoping to start a family and my dreams that were pretty much crushed, but I would just tell someone that it is not helpless. There're many other ways to start a family. Talk to your friends, talk to your family. See support groups or just groups of interests online. Anyone that can put you in contact with someone who has adopted before or who has used a surrogate, get their ideas and take their advice. See if there's someone that they can connect you with that can help you in your journey to start a family and just realize that there are many children in the world already that need loving homes. If you're willing to provide that for a child, then the love that you get in return is better than anything in the world. My name is Allison Wells, and I'm aware that I'm rare. Learn more about pulmonary hypertension trials at www.phaware.global/clinicaltrials. Never miss an episode with the phaware® podcast app. Follow us @phaware on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, YouTube & Linkedin Engage for a cure: www.phaware.global/donate #phaware #ClinicalTrials

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