rearranging-deck-chairs · 6 months ago
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anyway so im rewriting the specials to get yaz in there right and you kinda need her out of the way for wild blue yonder so im keeping her in the tardis to do the manual part of the repairs i guess but just the idea of yaz being There but Just out of sight but very much like,,,,Present, as an agent in the story, while this interaction happens:
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which is then Immediately followed by the tardis with her inside Disappearing, just lends a whole lot of fuckin,,,,,,,depth of flavour that you really dont even need to do anything for
#the hardest part of this is figuring out the donna&yaz dynamic for me#i cant write donna ive never written donna#i feel like donna would be sooort of approaching yaz like she approached martha back in s4#but i dont think yaz would be as receptive to that as martha#bc yaz. is. in much the same state as the doctor is. in terms of trauma and running on fumes and lets just keep running and not talking#except that she /didnt/ just regenerate to become weirdly honest about her affections#she still loyal devoted 'shes fine shes fine' never told anyone running from home just said goodbye to one of her best friends#And also to maybe her first real romantic love who Died But Didnt#dealing with all of that as quietly as shes dealt with alll the rest of it up till now#thrown into this situation where she knows no one and the doctor knows everyone and everyone knows the doctor but she knows no one not even#this doctor#all that just to say. i dont think she'd be very friendly with donna#polite. mostly. probably. but also having lots of feelings#that are gonna be...........difficult..........i think for all three of them to deal with#bc donna doesnt know what shes dealing with in terms of doctor/yaz#maybe she assumes a friend. or else a rose or a martha situation. bUT. yaz is none of those#yaz isnt making hearteyes or Yearning In Secret at this point yaz is grieving and also i think trying to figure out her place#shes more of a river situation. not really. comparison doesnt entirely work. but like. river in the library. vaguely#more that than the secret crush thing that it was#and the doctor knows Exactly whats going on with yaz but yknow. Busy. and they havent really had a moment alone to talk abt it#if theyre gonna talk abt it#and donna is pushing the doctor in their familiar dynamic and yaz is just sort of...........squished between that#trying to stand her ground while not even really knowing where or what that ground even IS#anyway so. tldr. Complicated#complicated dyanmic and complicated to balance so i dont sacrifice any of the doctor&donna stuff#which might happen a little anywaybc i have a clear yaz bias but im trying to mitigate it as much as i can
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heartbreakfeelsogood · 7 months ago
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#i do not want to work tomorrow i want to lay in bed and be sad#i’m really realizing how miserable of a person i am i am always fucking Sad and when i do feel happy i cry when it’s over#and i can’t even resemble a human being without medication and i know that’s fine but i’m still always sad. it doesn’t go away#i feel like nobody deserves to have me weighing them down like i’ve cried in front of people three times this week and i know it’s fine#but i feel so fucking guilty about it and i feel guilty about everything i feel like i’m doing nothing right and i’m not dealing with thing#right and i’m not living right and i feel like it must be so fucking difficult to love me and i don’t know how people do it#i don’t even feel capable of asking for. any sort of love ever#i feel like i don’t deserve like anything. i feel like nobody actually wants to do things for me lol#every single dsy i’m like wow i want to be held and every single dsy i feel bad even asking for a hug from someone#when i need reassurance i’m afraid to ask because what if i’m just being annoying and overbearing and too much Bad#i never feel like too much good. only bad.#i know a lot of these shitty thoughts are just because i’ve been unmedicated (meds will be ready tomorrow lol) but it just like#it sucks to know medication just kinda hides these thoughts better and that deep down i feel like this because i don’t want to#i feel like everyone in my life doesn’t deserve someone who doubts everything all the time#i think my mother deserved a stronger daughter and i think my friends deserve someone that’s not always breaking and i just don’t feel Good#i don’t know why anyone keeps me around#sometimes i feel selfish for sticking around and that sounds so awful and i’m not gonna act on it but i just feel like a waste of a person#the last week has been so good and now i’m just a fucking mess and i feel so fucking guilty about that :)#i feel like no matter what i always just default to miserable#i don’t feel like i’m doing enough at all#i’m struggling in school i don’t work enough i can barely take care of myself#like i wouldn’t even properly take care of myself if taylor wasn’t helping me i feel so guilty about that all the time#i feel so guilty for even thinking any of this right now and i’m trying to remind myself that i’m unmedicated and i’ve had a long day#and my best fucking friend just went back home and i’m allowed to be sad about that but i just. feel like i’m making excuses i guess#it’s not immoral to be sad but maybe when i’m wanting to die all the time i’m the problem. idk#anyway i’m gonna go to sleep and i’m gonna try to convince myself tomorrow will be better#sndnsksjkakejdkalwosjhdkwosjdjsk. i will be fine
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lives-in-midgard · 2 months ago
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You Are In Love
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Pairing: Evan Buckley x reader
Summary: When you're out with your friends you meet a handsome firefighter. After a while you go on a date and decide to keep your relationship a secret until something happens.
Word Count: 1200
A/N: Hey. This is part of the Buddie-August challenge. This also includes some characters from the Rookie. I hope you like it!
Divider made by @firefly-graphics
Buddie-August hosted by me and @buckys-wintersoldier
Prompt: Kisses
911 Masterlist | Main Masterlist
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After a long shift at work one of your colleagues had the idea to go to a bar. You don’t often go to bars with all of them, but today you all finally had time. A lot has changed for you since you started working as a police officer at the Mid-Wilshire Station. You found a lot of friends there and you love your job.
“I’m gonna get a drink, would any of you like one too?” You asked the others.
“Could you get me another one of these.” Lucy said, pointing at her drink and you nodded.
“What about you Tim?”
“I’m good, thanks.” He said, smiling at you. When the others said they didn’t need anything, you made your way over to the bar. While you were waiting in line for drinks, a cute guy stood next to you and waited as well. Somehow he looked familiar to you, but you weren’t sure where you had seen him before. He smiled at you and then you suddenly remembered him. You could never forget that smile.
“You’re firefighter Buckley, right?” You asked and he chuckled.
“Yeah, that’s me. Wait and you are officer L/n.”
“You can call me y/n.” You said with a smile.
“Only if you call me Buck because that’s what everyone calls me.”
“Okay, deal.” You said and he had that sweet smile again. You talked for a few more minutes until your drinks were ready.
“See you around, Buck.”
“See you and be safe.” He said and watched as you walked back to your table. You handed Lucy her drink and sat down next to Tim again.
“Who was this guy?” Tim asked curious.
“Oh, just a friend.” You answered and Tim nodded. You and Tim have been friends and partners for a long time and over time he has become very protective over you. He always knows when something is wrong and is there for you as best as he can.
The next day you kept thinking about your meeting with Buck. He was so sweet and you hope to see him again. You didn’t think you’d see him again soon because just when you had an emergency call and had to call the ambulance, it was the 118 that showed up. You couldn’t really talk to him, but it was great to see each other again.
When you were grocery shopping and walking through the halls someone said your name and when you turned around you saw that it was Buck.
“Hey Buck.” You greeted him with a smile.
“Hey, good to see you.”
“I was wondering if you would like to have a coffee with me sometime?” He suddenly asked.
“Yeah, sure. How about I give you my phone number.” He nodded and pulled out his phone. You tipped in your number and he called you, so you had his number too.
Two days passed until you got a message from Buck. He asked if you were free tomorrow and you agreed to meet after work. At work Tim noticed that you were different, happier and more excited. He didn’t ask you about it, but it made him happy to see you happy.
The coffee date with Buck went very well. You talked about everything that came to your mind. You both really enjoyed it and had a great time. He asked you out on a date and that date turned into another date and suddenly you were in a happy relationship.
You had been dating for about three months now. Usually you were at his house or yours or sometimes you were going out. Favorite things to do together include cooking, watching movies, going to the beach and you enjoying it when he tells you a story from work and then you tell him some stories too. You’re very happy together and try to spend as much time together as possible, even if it can be a bit difficult due to your work shifts. Some people don’t think a relationship between a police officer and a firefighter is a good idea, so you decided to keep the relationship a secret for a while, which wasn’t always easy especially if you would see him on a call.
Today you have been called into a very difficult situation. You called for backup, but things quickly escalated, and you injured your left arm. Luckily, Officer Harper, Officer Nolan and Officer Bradford arrived at the right time to arrest the person. While Harper and Nolan arrested the person, Tim ran over to you and called an ambulance.
“Tim, I’m aright, it’s just a small scratch.”
“Let’s wait and see what the medics say, okay?” Tim said and put some pressure on the wound to stop the bleeding. A few minutes later you could already hear the ambulance driving near you. When the doors opened you could see that it was Buck. As soon as he saw you, he ran towards you.
“Babe, are you okay? What happened?” He asked, looking at your arm. When you looked over, you saw that Tim had a confused look on his face.
“I’m okay, it’s just a small scratch.” You said again.
“Let’s go to the truck and I’ll take a look at it.” Buck said, placed his hand on your back and guided you to the truck. Then he removed the cloth from your wound and gently tried to stop the bleeding. You took a deep breath.
“I’m sorry, babe.” He looked into your eyes and tried to smile at you. Then he looked back at the wound.
“The cut isn’t too deep, so it’s okay if I just bandage it.” He said and you nodded. Buck gently put the bandage over your wound and then gave you a kiss on the cheek.
“Thank you, honey.”
“Anytime.” He said, then Buck tucked a piece of hair behind your ear and gently pulled you into a passionate kiss. When you broke the kiss, you reached for his hand and smiled at each other.
“I have to go back to work.” You said after a few seconds, even though you didn’t want to say goodbye.
“Me too.” He said, looking over his shoulder to see his friends looking at you both with smiles.
“I guess they all know now.”
“They definitely do.” You said with chuckle. You noticed how happy they all were and then looked over at Tim who was as happy as they were.
“I think I have to go now. See you later.” Buck said and gave you a quick hug.
“See you.” You said, waving at him as you walked away. As you walked to your car, Tim was still standing next to yours and looked at you with a grin.
“Now I know why you’ve been so happy lately.”
“Yeah, Buck makes me really happy.” You confirmed and opened the car door.
You were glad that Tim and Buck’s colleagues now found out about your relationship, but you definitely want to meet them soon on a better occasion. Buck has told you a lot about them, so you’re very excited to meet them.
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Taglist:
@cevansbaby-dove | @buckys-wintersoldier
@beaubbdoll
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halsteadlover · 1 year ago
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Haunted
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*Gif not mine credits to the owner*
• Pairing: Jay Halstead x Female!Reader.
• Requested by @lelaartt: So reader and Jay are engaged, her working as a nurse in the ICU. She gets followed by a stranger on her way home for couple of occasions (She doesn't tell anyone) as the stranger becames a main suspect in case that intelligence is dealing with. Jay completelly worried about her safety and she tells him about the stranger following her for couple of weeks.
• Warnings: stalking, cursing, blood, description of violence, brief mention of killing and rape. (Let me know if I missed something).
• Word count: 9530.
• A/N: I know this is a long ass fic and I’m so sorry please don’t come at me 😭. I’m kinda nervous because I really don’t vibe with the fic but I really hope it turned out okay. Let me know what you think and reblog, comment and like if you want. ❤️ thank you again for your support, forever grateful for it. Sending lots of love to you all xx
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Your hospital shift was nothing short of exhausting.
That day there were three hospitalizations in the ICU due to a terrible accident that happened in the afternoon. Three patients, all of them brain dead. The ward was short-staffed and it was just you and another nurse, Amanda, on that shift so dealing with these three new patients, along with the other ones, was really exhausting.
After closing your locker, you removed the necklace where you hung the ring and slipped it onto the ring finger of your left hand, which you did at the end of each shift. You didn't want to risk losing it during work, you’d never forgive yourself for it so you just carried it around your neck during the shifts. You looked at it for a moment with a smile on your lips thinking back to the day Jay asked you to marry him.
You took your cell phone from the pocket of your uniform and, as you walked towards the exit, bag on your shoulders, you noticed various texts from Jay, the last one dating back to a couple of minutes prior.
From Fiancée 💍, 7:17 pm
Baby we're still dealing with a difficult case, I think I'll be late tonight. Please let me know when you get home. I love you endlessly. Be careful.
From Fiancée 💍, 7:55 pm
Baby? Are you okay?
From Fiancée 💍, 8.21 pm
Should I send a patrol to the hospital? You know I'll do it love.
You chuckled not doubting about that, you knew he would. Jay had always been very protective of you, which you wouldn't admit but loved it madly. You loved he cared about you, so much he’d leave everything and everyone to come to you if you asked him to.
From you, 8.27 pm
I'm sorry love, it's been a hard shift and I just picked up my cell phone. I'm going home now. How are you? When will you finish? You’ll come home soon, right?
You left the hospital and started walking home. It was late spring and the temperatures were finally starting to warm up a bit, allowing you to finally breathe fresh air. You really needed it after a whole day of smelling the hospital and disinfectants.
Your cell phone started ringing following a call.
“Hi baby! You really miss me that much, don’t you?” You begin, bringing your cell phone to your ear, a smile on your lips.
“I always miss you, you know that,” your fiancée answered on the other end of the phone. “Are you walking home?”.
“Yes, it's a beautiful evening and I felt like walking.”
Jay sighed. “Baby you know I don't like the idea of you walking alone in the dark, you could’ve taken a taxi or waited for me to pick you up.”
“Oh come on Jay, what’s gonna happen. I'll be home in twenty minutes,” you retorted “Where are you?”.
“I'm still in the district baby, I have to finish writing a case report and then I'm finally leaving,” you heard some noise in the background but you couldn't figure out what he was doing.
Jay continued to keep you company on the phone, refusing to leave you completely alone even though you'd insisted that he finish work so he'd get back to you soon.
You asked him about his day and he started telling you what he had done as you listened to him carefully, asking him a few questions from time to time when you didn't quite understand something. You bumped into a person and quickly mumbled an apology before walking on, quickly glancing at the man who reassured you not to worry.
“Everything okay baby?” Jay asked.
“Yeah, yeah, I got distracted and bumped into a guy, no big deal. What were you saying?”.
Suddenly an unease feeling went through your body. You tried to let it go, thinking it was just a figment of your imagination.
You clasped your hand around your purse, quickly picking up your pace when you began to hear footsteps behind you.
They were so loud you seemed to hear them only a few feet away from you.
You turned around and stopped in your tracks, looking around for a few seconds before letting out a sigh of relief.
There was no one walking behind you.
Your heart was pounding and anxiety was eating up your stomach and you forgot for a moment you were on the phone with Jay.
Stay calm, you're just tired.
“Baby? You still there?” Jay's voice brought you back to reality. “Oh yeah, sorry, I couldn’t hear you anymore.” You answered. You didn't want to make him worry about your simple and stupid feeling, you knew if you told him you had the impression someone was following you he would’ve rushed to you and acted like the world was about to end.
You were sure it was just the fatigue speaking, but your senses remained alert until you got to your apartment. You took a shower while you waited for Jay to come back home, ordering food since you knew neither of you would feel like cooking.
You were about to lower the blinds in your bedroom window when, glancing outside, you noticed a figure standing on the sidewalk in front of you.
It was too dark for you to make out who it was and for a few moments you stood paralyzed, your eyes fixed on that dark figure, trying to figure out if it was just a hallucination.
The noise of the front door opening and closing made you jump in place, nearly giving you a heart attack.
You took your eyes off that figure for just a second.
Just for a moment.
And it was no longer there.
You ran your hands over your face in frustration, letting out a deep sigh at the same time before walking over to Jay, deciding you were going to ignore it and just needed a good night's sleep.
-
The following days went on quietly and the strange episode that happened a few nights before passed into oblivion. But that was before something else weird made your skin crawl.
“Are you sure you don't want me to drive you to work babe?” Jay asked you as he planted numerous kisses on your lips, making you smile between them. It was morning and you were both in the doorway, your arms around his chest as you both struggled to pull away.
“I'm positive baby, just think about resting okay? I’ll see you tonight.”
He cupped his hands over your face, giving you one last long, sweet kiss on your lips. “I'll have dinner ready for you. You be careful. I love you so much.”
“I love you more.��
The day went on peacefully. You had to work a double shift in the hospital as the nurse on the afternoon shift was sick and had to take over her place.
You loved your job, you really did. There was nothing else you would’ve done in your life but sometimes you couldn't deny how difficult and tiring it was.
“Y/N, sweetie!” You heard the voice of your colleague, Becca, calling you from a patient’s room you'd just passed. You sighed, recognizing the tone she used when she needed something.
You took a few steps back, looking into the room and noticing Becca intent on changing the unconscious patient's dressing.
“Becca I was about to leave, why do you still want to torture me?” You whined and she rolled her eyes. “Please help me change these dressings. Pretty please, I can't wait to leave too.”
She put on the sweetest puppy face she was capable of and for the second time you sighed and rolled your eyes. You ended up disinfecting your hands, putting on a pair of gloves and helping her to change the patient’s dressings.
By the time you finished you were dead tired and couldn't wait to get back to Jay and sleep, you probably would’ve just run away if anyone else had asked you any other favor. For this reason, you practically flew out of the hospital after saying goodbye to your colleagues.
It was particularly cold that evening and you found yourself rubbing your hands on your arms in an attempt to get some warmth. Thank God you took the car that day.
You walked over to your car and grabbed the keys from your bag. Before unlocking it, you noticed an object resting on the windshield, held on it by the wiper. You furrowed your eyebrows when you realized it was a rose.
A black rose.
What the fuck?
There was no card attached to it, just the rose.
Your heartbeat began to accelerate and anxiety took over you. You tried to keep calm and not freak out since there was definitely an explanation why someone had to put a damn black rose on your car.
Maybe they were wrong, maybe it was for another person and they got mixed up with the cars.
Who the hell gives a black rose though?
Your eyes scanned the parking lot around you but you didn't notice anyone suspicious or anyone nearby watching you, before dropping the rose on the asphalt, trying not to think about it. There was definitely a mistake.
The car ride was strange.
You couldn't shake the feeling something was wrong. You kept looking in the rear view mirror to notice if there were any cars following you, you were probably just getting paranoid but you couldn't keep yourself calm.
When you parked in your usual spot once you got back home, that feeling of discomfort hadn't disappeared, on the contrary, it had increased.
The streetlights hadn't been turned on yet and it was dark enough outside so distinguishing objects or people was pretty hard.
After locking the car you were about to enter the apartment building when your gaze fell on the sidewalk in front of you.
You didn't know if it was just your imagination, but you swore there was someone standing, exactly in front of you and, despite the darkness, you were sure they were watching you.
You couldn't figure out who that person was, only that he was a man.
Your breath caught in your chest as you realized it was the same figure you'd spotted a few days earlier from your bedroom window.
The silence was almost deafening, making everything more frightening and suggestive.
Your muscles were paralyzed as your eyes seemed to be glued to that man.
Suddenly he moved and your heart almost stopped beating.
But when you saw him go away, that was the last thing you expected.
He did nothing, just walked away.
You tried to explain what was happening in your mind. Maybe it was just a coincidence, that man was there for another reason and you had nothing to do with it.
You let out a sigh you didn't realize you were holding and quickly entered the apartment building, rushing to your home where you found Jay on the couch watching a show.
That rose left you with a feeling of anxiety that you couldn't get rid of easily, also caused by that figure you saw standing in front of you. You didn't immediately tell Jay, you didn't want to worry him since you already knew how he’d react and he’d worry to death and go crazy about it.
You just wanted to be sure that something’s happening before alarming him.
But, knowing you like the back of his hand, he immediately sensed there was something strange, that something was bothering you. You tried to convince him otherwise, that you were just awfully tired after working a double shift at the hospital.
“Baby, really, I'm fine. I'm just dead tired,” you said for the hundredth time since you'd set foot inside the house.
“Are you sure? You know you can talk to me. Did someone upset you? Did something happen at work?” He kept going, thumb and forefinger under your chin to keep your head up and make you look into his eyes. Your hands slid under his shirt, caressing his chest as you placed your lips on his, trying to distract him.
“No baby, nobody did anything. Seriously, nothing happened,” you muttered against his lips, “I just missed my fiancé like hell.” You bit his bottom lip and he hissed, his breathing suddenly heavy. “Do you want to take a shower with me?”.
“Fuck yeah,” Jay had said before crashing his mouth on yours and kissing your breath away. His tongue explored every corner of your mouth as his lips moved masterfully with yours. His hands went down your body and he bent slightly before reaching your thighs, pressing his fingers against your skin and urging you to jump into his arms.
You wrapped your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck meanwhile he carried you to the bathroom, never letting go of you. As he kicked the door open, you found yourself completely lost in him, the rest of the world vanishing and all negative thoughts forgotten.
However this sensation of bliss was destined to vanish.
In the following days the feeling that was tormenting you didn’t disappear, instead it only got worse.
You started to sense someone was constantly following you and watching you, that every time you walked in the middle of the street there was someone behind you even if every time you turned around there was no one.
After finding that rose on your car, this kept happening and almost every night for two weeks a rose would appear on your windshield.
Jay knew something was wrong, you weren't acting normally anymore.
You were always jumpy, any sudden noise made you almost have a heart attack, even if you were cooking and he suddenly hugged you from behind you’d be scared to death.
Needless to say Jay asked you a million times what was going on, what was it that was bothering you so much but you didn't want to bother him. You didn't want to upset him, make him worry about some stupid feeling of yours, not when his work was already haunting him enough.
Maybe deep down you were hoping whoever was leaving you those roses would stop and eventually leave you alone.
One evening you went out with your friends, on one of your rare days off, to try to keep your mind occupied and to catch up with them since you didn't always have the opportunity because of your hectic job.
Between laughter, jokes, chatting and various cocktails, the evening went on normally and by 1:00 am each one of you went back home. You headed towards your car, parked not far from the bar where you had all met together, calm and happy for the first time in weeks.
However, this feeling of calmness faded the instant your gaze fell on a damn black rose sitting on your windshield, again.
A wave of anger took over you.
You were tired, so damn tired of this little game that whoever it was was playing against you.
Who the hell was this person? What the fuck did they want from you? Why were they targeting you?
Whoever that person was they following you, they knew what you were doing, who you were with, and it scared the shit out of you as well as infuriating you.
You tore all the petals off that rose that would haunt you forever before throwing it angrily on the asphalt and getting into the car. You started it and quickly drove away from there, intending to go home immediately.
You wanted Jay, you wanted your fiancée. You wanted to hug him, feeling safe again in his arms and forget about all that shit that was going on.
As soon as you got home, however, your heart skipped a beat when you saw Jay laying on the sofa, asleep. The TV was on and he had his cell phone resting on his stomach, holding it close in case you called him. A smile was born on your lips and for an instant all negative thoughts flew away as your attention focused on the sleeping figure on the couch.
You leaned towards him, leaving a sweet little kiss on his forehead, also gently stroking his hair with your left hand. He stirred in his sleep and opened his eyes at the same instant, looking around before looking at you, a sigh of relief to see you were back home safe and sound.
“I’m sorry I woke you up baby,” you whispered, kissing his forehead again “Let's go to bed so you can sleep again.”
He mumbled something you couldn’t catch and rubbed his eyes before flashing a smile that nearly made your knees buckle. He nodded and then stood up, stretching his arms before pulling you into a hug. “How are you my love? Did you have fun?”.
The memory of that rose returned to your mind but for some reason, seeing his eyes so red and tired, you decided not to worry him about it and you’d talk to him about it the following morning.
“Mmh,” you muttered nodding your head “I really had fun, we needed this girls night out even though I missed you a lot.”
He chuckled, placing his hands on your face and giving you a kiss on the lips. “I’m glad darling, you deserved it since you’re working so hard lately. And I missed you so much more,” he kissed you again “Come on, let's go to sleep now.”
But that night you couldn't sleep given the thousands of thoughts that were going through your head. You couldn't help but think who would do something like that, what the hell those roses meant. Was there anyone who had it in for you? Did you do something to someone? Maybe an angry patient?
You thought again and again about who could be doing this but none occurred to you. Jay told you about his cases so many times you knew that whoever did this was doing it to torture you, to keep you on your toes, to make you live in fear.
And the fact they were succeeding was infuriating you.
Fear turned into pure terror when, while checking your cell phone, you noticed a text from an unknown number.
So pretty. Can’t wait to meet you.
How did they get your number?
You were so immersed in your thoughts you didn't notice it was morning and that Jay had woken up in the meantime. He literally jumped out of bed when you told him the time after he asked you, realizing he was late. You had the afternoon shift so you didn't have to worry about getting ready for quite a while longer.
“Baby can I talk to you about something?” You had asked him, not being able to hold it in anymore even though you knew you picked up the worst time to do it.
How smart were you for wanting to talk to him about something so delicate as he was hurring to get dressed and going to work? Not much.
“Can you tell me about it later? I'm so sorry, but I'm super late…” he replied frantically as he ran from one part of the room to another looking for the keys. He stopped for a moment in front of you, placing his hands on your face, analyzing your features. “Is it something important though? If…”
You shook his head, placing your hands on his chest and giving him a reassuring smile even if anxiety was making you nauseous. “No, it's not urgent baby. I'll tell you tonight. Now go.”
He smiled at you and made sure to leave you a long, sweet kiss on your lips before saying goodbye and literally flying out of the front door.
It could wait, right?
You tried to keep yourself busy all morning, cleaning every corner of your apartment and keeping your mind from the negative thoughts.
You couldn't deny the slightest noise made you jump, even when you accidentally dropped something on the floor. You hated this feeling, you hated having to be afraid in your own home, you hated whoever was doing this to you, you hated them so fucking much.
You nearly jumped for joy when you realized it was time to get ready for work, the thought that for few hours you'd be safe made you especially happy to go to the hospital.
You took a shower before quickly putting on your uniform and packing your bag. You checked that everything you needed was there, house and car keys and hospital locker keys, a bottle of water, tissues, tampons, some snacks, pepper spray and a small knife. Jay had forced you to carry them around constantly, asserting you could never be too safe and he’d be comfortable with the thought you had something to protect you in case of need, and never as then as then you were grateful to him.
Once you left the apartment, you made sure you locked the door at least three times. The anxiety that had been living with you for weeks was now gripping your stomach, forcing you to constantly look around and keeping you alert to any individual passing by you.
You forcefully clutched your purse to you, walking briskly to your car and unlocking before climbing in and locking yourself inside. You let out a breath you didn't realize you were even holding as your eyes continued to scan the perimeter for any type of threat.
Did you already mention how much you hated this?
“It's okay Y/N, it's okay, just take it easy,” you whispered to yourself, taking a deep breath before putting on your seat belt and starting the car.
As you drove to the hospital you couldn't help but constantly look at the rear view mirror, almost as if you expected someone to be following you but they weren't, there was no car that you repeatedly noticed behind you.
Your cell phone started ringing and you took it from inside your bag, not taking your eyes off the road. Without even looking who it was, imagining for a moment it was Jay, you answered.
“Hello?”.
The smile on your lips instantly disappeared when instead of a voice you started to hear a heavy sigh, almost a pant.
“Hello?”.
You took the phone away from your ear and glanced at the screen, noting that it wasn't Jay, or anyone else you knew, but an unknown ID.
“Who is this?” You continued, hoping whoever it was would answer and maybe you'd recognize the voice. The person on the other end of the phone just kept sighing heavily, making your heart beat so hard you thought you were about to have a heart attack at any moment.
“What the fuck do you want from me?! Leave me alone!” You screamed, in the grip of fear, anxiety and anger that this person was forcing you to suffer. You closed the call and threw the cell phone on the passenger seat, not caring if it had bumped into something or was broken.
Your vision began to blur with tears fearing for your safety. They had your number. They knew where you lived. What kept them from taking you and killing you?
Your hands were shaking on the wheel as you parked at the hospital, palms sweaty. Your heart was still pounding and there wasn't a muscle in your body that didn't shake like your hands.
You took a few minutes to compose yourself, not wanting to cause questions from colleagues about the reason of your emotional state.
You took a few deep breaths and wiped your tears away, constantly telling yourself that everything was fine, that you'd be fine, that no one could hurt you in the hospital.
You never felt the need to have Jay with you like then. God you were stupid, so fucking stupid for not telling him about all of this before, for keeping everything inside you and hoping it’d eventually just go away, for underestimating what was happening. You were being stalked.
You texted him, telling him you'd arrived at the hospital and asking how his day was going, determined to tell him about the person who was stalking you as soon as you got off work.
You never thought you'd say it but you were never as glad you had a hard shift as you were that afternoon. Four patients arrived, one after suffering a stroke, two from a car accident and another after falling from the roof of his house.
The entire shift consisted of you and your colleagues running back and forth across the ward, treating patients, resuscitating them after one of them went into cardiac arrest twice. Your mind was focused on nothing but your patients and in treating them, everything else was left out of the hospital. You wouldn't let whoever was stalking you ruin your job, ever.
At the end of the shift there was no need to say you were dead tired and couldn't wait to go to sleep and although it was only 8:00 pm, the lack of sleep of the night before starting to take a toll on you.
As you placed your stethoscope in the locker and grabbed your bag, you removed your engagement ring from the chain around your neck and putted it on your finger. Your cell phone rang following a text notification and your heart skipped a beat for an instant.
The anxiety, which you managed to not to think about during the afternoon, returned stronger than ever to grip your stomach and for a moment you considered to throw the phone away.
But you thought it’d Jay and when you realized that it was indeed him, you breathed a sigh of relief. He said he'd be late that night because of a particularly difficult case and to let him know when you'd be done and went back home.
You tried to hide your sorrow, not wanting to be alone, especially in that situation.
You quickly typed a text back, asking him what he’d like for dinner, and put your cell phone in your bag. You said goodbye to your colleagues and walked towards the hospital exit.
You took a deep breath, praying to God to go home safe and sound.
Although spring had arrived it was particularly cold that evening due to the wind blowing and you cursed yourself for not bringing a jacket with you.
You walked, actually, almost ran to your car.
Anxiety was eating you alive and your heart was pounding, fear flowing like a river through your veins.
After taking the keys from your bag and unlocked the car, you quickly looked around, a sigh of relief leaving your lips when you saw no one was around you.
But suddenly the keys fell out of your hands as a slimy hand placed over your mouth and an arm around your hips.
Your bag fell to the ground as you began to squirm in an attempt to free yourself from whoever grabbed you.
Adrenaline coursed through your veins as the fear of dying made you fight like never before.
You screamed, your throat burning, even though because of the hand your scream came out muffled.
“Stop fighting it, it had to happen sooner or later, you knew it was going to happen sweetie,” A man's voice came hoarsely to your ears and you suppressed a gag.
You managed to hit his side with your elbow, hard enough to loosen his grip on you and you tried to push him away with all the strength you had in your body.
“You fucking whore!”.
You threw yourself to get the car keys on the asphalt but the man was faster than you and grabbed your arm, pressing his fingers into your skin with such force you were sure they’d leave a mark.
A searing, stinging pain radiated up your face as his fist hit you full-on, knocking you to the ground. You put your hands forward to try to cushion the fall, but it caused you scratches and minor lacerations on both your forearms.
“We're meant to be. I know you want it. I saw it.”
You glanced at him and almost fainted when after few seconds your recognized him.
You had already met him. He was the guy you bumped into two weeks ago.
What the fuck?!
He tried to grab your wrists but before forcing you to get up, you managed to kick him in his genital area, using all the strength you had in your body. A sound of pure pain escaped his mouth and he backed away, leaning forward and gripping the sore area with his hands.
You took advantage of that moment of weakness to get off the asphalt. You weren't going to let him hurt you, not anymore.
You grabbed his black hair in two fists and you didn't care about the damage you would’ve caused him, you didn't care you were a nurse, that you were supposed to be the one to treat people and not hurt them, but you kneed him in his face and the horrible noise his bones made, suggested you most likely broke his nose.
You pushed him to the ground, ignoring the way he grunted in pain and the blood pouring profusely from his nose, kicking him in the stomach with such force that even you were stunned.
You never fought in your entire life, never kicked anyone or punched someone, you hated the idea of hurting people but at that very moment your life was on the line and you had to protect yourself.
The man was laying on the asphalt grunting and muttering some curse word and you took advantage of it. You had to run away, that was your only chance.
You quickly grabbed your car keys and purse off the ground before opening the door and getting in. You locked yourself in before you started fumbling to get the vehicle going.
Your hands were shaking and your vision was still blurry from the punch he had thrown at you.
You gave him a quick look, terrified he’d get up and kill you on the spot.
You didn't know how but you managed to start the car and without even looking back you drove away from that parking lot. You knew you couldn't drive in those conditions but you just wanted to get away from that monster.
You didn't know where to go, you didn't want to go home, the terror of being attacked there would’ve killed you so you went to the place where there was the only person you wanted to see, the only one who could make you feel better, safe.
The journey to the district was awful.
Your body was driving but it was as if you were experiencing everything from the outside, as if your soul had left your body and was looking at you from afar.
You didn't know how you managed to drive and not run over anyone or crash yourself.
Your breathing was still quickening, your chest rose and fell as if you'd run a marathon, your trembling hands struggling to hold onto the steering wheel. Your vision was blurred due to copious tears flowing from your eyes and streaming down your face, not even realizing you were crying desperately.
Your face was in pain and you were sure a huge bruise would appear on your cheek, although you didn't care, grateful you were still alive, that you managed to escape.
When you arrived at the district, you didn’t care about parking your car properly, or to take your bag or lock it after getting off. You just wanted Jay.
A smile appeared on Sergeant Platt's face the moment she saw you walking up the stairs, but when she noticed the way you were running, it immediately disappeared.
“Oh my God Y/N!” she exclaimed as soon as she saw you up close. Your face was streaked with tears, an expression of pure terror and fear contouring your features, your uniform stained with dust. She ran towards you, placing her hands on your arms. “What happened to you?” She took a look at your body looking for any other injury. “Oh dear. It's okay, whatever happened you're safe here.”
You kept breathing hard and your eyes were so full of tears you could barely see her.
“Shh it's okay. Come on, let's go sit down.”
She put her arm around your shoulders as she took your hand with her free one as a sign of support. She led you into one of the break rooms, making you sit on the couch and sitting next to you.
Her hand kept squeezing yours meanwhile the other stroked your back, trying to calm you down.
“Do you want some water?” She asked and you nodded, not being able to speak at the moment. Trudy got up and ran to get a bottle of water.
She handed it to you after opening the cap and it broke her heart to see the way you were shaking. “T-thanks,” you stammered, your chest shaking with sobs. “J-Jay.”
“I'm going to call him right away, don't move from here,” she said, seeing the way you needed him. She got up and ran upstairs, where Intelligence was still busy working on the case.
Everyone turned to the sergeant, who was at the top of the stairs with an expression that did not bode well. “Trudy, did something happen?” Voight asked as soon as he saw her but her gaze fell on Jay, who was standing by the whiteboard, arms folded across his chest.
“Jay… It's Y/N…” She spoke, saying nothing else. “She's downstairs now…”
Jay's eyes widened at the sergeant's words, his eyebrows furrowed in an expression of worry and fear. He knew something was up, by the way Platt looked at him and a wave of anxiety hit him, his mind now focused only on you.
Without even letting her finish the sentence, he quickly moved away from the others, running down the stairs, almost tripping on his feet. Trudy followed him, giving no explanation to the rest of the team who just exchanged a worried look.
“Where's she?” he asked hurriedly and Trudy pointed him to the room you were in.
He burst into the room and breathed a sigh of relief when she saw you sitting on the sofa but immediately worrying when he saw the state you were in. Trudy closed the door behind him, leaving you two alone and not giving any other cops a chance to snoop.
You had your elbows resting on your knees, your hands on your face as your leg bounced up and down almost obsessively.
“Baby!”.
His voice made you snap your head to him and before you knew it, you were rushing into his arms, squeezing yours around his torso with so much force you were almost afraid he’d disappear.
Jay was surprised for a moment but immediately returned that hug, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and hugging you like he never did. He had no idea what had happened, but whatever it was he knew it was serious and that was enough to make his heart race.
“I'm here baby, I'm here. I'm not going anywhere. It's okay,” he whispered, placing a kiss on your head, stroking your hair. You cried in his arms, with relief because he was finally there with you.
His heart sank as he heard you cry like that, feeling helpless like never before. You kept shaking and, without even knowing anything, Jay promised himself whoever had done this to you was a dead person.
“Baby you're making me worry to death. Please talk to me,” his voice coming out desperately. You broke away from his embrace, but still remained very close to him. “Darling, look at me. What happened?”.
His hands rested on your face and inevitably on the bruised cheek. You winched in pain and this didn't escape Jay, who was on the verge of losing his mind by then. “Y/N. Look at me,” he urged and you did as he said, lifting your head and making eye contact with him.
His breath caught in his chest as his gaze fell on the clear purple bruise on your cheek.
“What the fuck? Y/N…” he stammered, an incredulous and horrified look on his face as he looked at you. He took his hand away from your wounded cheek, placing two fingers under your chin and turning your head to inspect it better. “Shit baby… What happened? Who did this to you?”.
His heart was pounding in his chest and as his eyes looked at every single inch of that bruise that lined your cheek, every single cell in his body lit up with rage. Seeing the desperation on your face, the look of pure terror with which you were looking at him, the way your eyes were so full of tears, Jay felt as if he had stabbed and someone had twisted the knife over and over again.
“I-I… H-he…” you stammered meaninglessly, sobbing between words clearly still unable to speak.
“Oh baby come here,” he hugged you again, this time even harder than he had before. “My beautiful princess. It's okay, it's okay, you're safe now do you hear me? You're safe.” He tried to comfort you “I'm here now, I'm here. You’re not alone anymore and I will never let anyone hurt you again. You’re safe with me my love.”
“I-I was…” another sob “So… S-so scared…” you cried into his shirt, wetting it with your tears.
“I know, my baby, I know,” he whispered, placing lots of little kisses on your head. “I'm so sorry. It wasn't supposed to happen, not to you. But you're safe now, I'm here with you, you’re safe with me.” He kept repeating to you.
You both sat on the couch and he continued to hug you indefinitely, holding you and cradling you in his arms until you calmed down. “Sorry,” you muttered, your voice weak as you pulled away from his embrace, gesturing at his tear-stained t-shirt.
“Don’t even say it,” he replied. He raised his hand and stroked your hair, tucking it behind your ears as you kept your gaze on your hands. He was about to continue speaking when his eyes fell on the bruises on your arm, visible outside of your uniform.
His fingers lifted the sleeve to take a better look of the bruises on your skin. He immediately understood they were finger markers, a sign that someone had violently grabbed your arm.
“Oh darling,” he whispered, shattered at the sight of those horrible marks on your beautiful skin “What have they done to you?” His fingers caressed you gently, being careful not to hurt you further.
He was furious, like he had been a few other times in his life, and he still hadn't heard the story.
“Tell me what happened, please.”
You sighed and with still trembling voice, started talking. You told him about everything, about the roses, about the feeling of being followed, about the text, about the call and about the man who attacked you, the fact you already saw him for few seconds weeks prior, how he hit you and how you defended yourself.
“Why the hell didn't you tell me about it sooner?!” Jay snapped, when you finished speaking “This was never going to happen dammit! I would’ve killed that fucking son of a bitch.”
He leapt to his feet, running his hands over his face and pacing around the room. He didn't want to pick on you, it wasn't your fault and he knew it, but he was so damn angry, so angry you had to go through this, that he wasn't there to protect you.
His eyes landed on you noticing how yours quickly filled with tears again at his words and the tone of voice he used. “No, no, no baby, don't cry,” he rushed over to you, kneeling in front of you and wiping away the tears with his thumbs. “I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to blame you. It's not your fault, please don't cry.”
His hands rested on your knees as you looked at him with sad, broken eyes, making his heart break over and over again. “You’re right I should have told you about it…”
“No, baby, don't get this into your head okay? It's not your fault, I’m so sorry for snapping like that I’m just so fucking furious for what that piece of shit did to you. It’s his fault, he hurt you and make you go through all of this. I hate you had to go through this alone and I wasn’t there to help you,” He sighed “I knew something wasn't right, I should have…” Jay stopped his eyes suddenly widening as you looked at him confused.
“Oh my god, that's… That's what you wanted to tell me this morning, isn't it?”. You didn't answer, effectively giving him the answer he needed.
Jay scrambled to his feet again, as if he'd just been given an electric shock. “Fuck!” He tried to keep control but you jumped as he kicked a chair in anger before placing his hands on the table and bowing his head, his back towards you.
“Jay…” you mumbled, standing up and walking towards him. You placed a hand on his back even though he didn't move from that position.
“It's my fault, this…” he choked on his own words “If I had stopped and listened to you this morning… Shit… It shouldn't have happened… I’m so sorry…”
“Hey, hey, no baby,” you interrupted him “Don't be hypocritical and tell me to not blame me and then do the same.”
He turned his head to you and it broke your heart to see his eyes full of tears. “I was late Y/N… I… This happened to you because I didn't stop for five fucking minutes to listen to you!”.
“Jay, listen to me,” you spoke to him softly. You lightly pulled his arm, causing him to straighten his back. You cupped your hands over his face, stroking his cheeks. “It's that crazy bastard's fault okay? Not yours, not mine.”
“If something happened to you… God…”
“No. Let's not do this. No ifs and buts. I'm here and I'm fine, I was scared shitless, I'm still scared shitless, but I'll be fine. You’re here with me and you’re all I need baby. These are just bruises and they'll be gone in a couple days,” you croaked “You should’ve seen how he looked then.”
He sighed before letting out a chuckle though the tears, hugging you for the third time, his hand stroking your hair. “We'll get him okay? And I'll fucking make him pay for what he did to you.”
You and Jay went upstairs, not wanting to let you disappear from his sight for even a second, after reassuring Trudy and telling her what had happened. Needless to say, she threatened to kill the bastard herself if Jay didn't. The way he answered told you that there was no need and that he’d certainly sort it out.
“I'll get you some ice for the bruise,” Kim had offered. The rest of the team didn't take it quite well either and Voight promised you they’d catch the bastard who hurt you. You and Jay had been together for a long time and you were part of the group now, an attack on one of them was an attack on all of them.
“Thank you,” you thanked her with a warm smile, placing the bag of ice on your face. The cold sent a rush of shivers up your spine.
“Come on baby, let's go in the break room,” Jay had said, his hand resting on your lower back. However, your gaze fell on the white board on which various photos and sentences were hung.
At first you didn't notice, but when your eyes saw a particular photo, you did a double take, stopping in your tracks and lowering the hand that was holding the ice.
“Baby? Are you okay?” Jay immediately asked alarmed, then following the direction of your gaze. “Oh. That's the case we're investigating.”
The photo just on the blackboard wasn't clear enough, it was a frame taken from a surveillance video but you could distinguish the features of the man it portrayed.
You stopped breathing for a second and your mind retraced in those brief moments your aggression, still fresh and imprinted in your memory.
“Y/N?” Jay pressed, worried about your reaction as his hand caressed your back.
“It-it… Jay…” you breathed out “It's him…”
“What?!” Jay's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets and everyone in the unit couldn't mask their surprise.
“It was him… H-he attacked me… Oh god…”
Your hands start shaking again and you thanked that Jay was there to hold you or you would’ve probably collapsed on the floor.
Your eyes moved from that frame to the other hanging photos. There were four photos depicting four different women, more or less your age and similar in appearance to yours. Alongside these were other photos portraying instead what were unmistakably the victims’ bodies.
You were in complete shock.
What were the odds that the man stalking you was the same Jay was investigating on?
“C’mon let’s go,” Jay put his arm around your shoulders, leading you to the break room and closing the door behind him.
You weren't even crying. You were just completely shocked.
“Jay… He…” you stammered as if you were having trouble coordinating your thoughts. He put both of his hands on your shoulders.
“Baby, just breathe okay? Do it with me, take a deep breath.”
You shook yourself out of his grip, now in a panic. How could you calm down?
“He was… He would’ve killed me Jay, like… Like those women… Holy shit…” you continued to babble. You couldn't believe it. You understood that bastard was to be locked up somewhere, but you never, ever imagined he was a serial killer, that he’d done that before to those poor women. What if you didn't fight? What if he managed to overpower you?
Jay closed his hands into a fist, pressing his nails into his palms in an attempt to let out even a tiny bit of the anger, rage and fear he was feeling at the moment.
He didn't even want to imagine it, the thought was enough to make him sick. He didn't want to imagine what could happen to you. He run the risk of losing you forever without even realizing it.
Jay couldn't exist in a world where you weren't there. He couldn't even pass the idea of not having you next to him, the pain from this thought alone was unbearable and it was enough to make his heart shatter to pieces. Damn it, he asked you to marry him, you were his fiancée, his soon to be wife, the future mother of his children. You had to start a family together, buy a bigger house to raise your children and you’d live and grow old together, forever.
He couldn't accept some son of a bitch threatened to take you away from him, the most beautiful person he'd ever met, the love of his life, his anchor and his salvation.
“What happened to those women?” You asked, afraid to hear the answer.
“Baby…”
“No Jay, please, just… Just tell me. What happened to them?”.
Jay took a deep breath, knowing that telling you would only make you feel worse. “No, love. Listen to me now,” he walked over to you, placing a hand on your healthy cheek and stroking your skin with his thumb. “Don't torture yourself like this, it won't do you any good to know, please trust me. You were so brave and you managed to knock out that son of a bitch and now you're here with me, safe, so just think about this okay? I beg you. I don't even want to think about what happened to those poor women, I don't want to think something like that could’ve happened to you and I don't want you to think about it either.”
He was right. You didn't want to know, sometimes it was better to live in the unknown.
“I'm so proud of you,” he whispered, kissing your forehead as his fingers wiped away your tears with excruciating delicacy. “I would’ve died if anything had happened to you baby, I love you so, so fucking much. I couldn't have survived without you.”
“I love you so much Jay,” you too replied in a whisper before sharing a soft, sweet kiss, your nerves starting to finally calm down. “What happens now?”.
“You’ll stay here and we’ll continue to work non-stop until we catch that bastard.”
“Are you sure I can stay here?”.
“Is this even a question?” He looked at you as if you were an alien “Yes baby, of course you can. You have stay here. I need to know you're safe or I won't be able to think of anything else and I know nothing can happen to you if you’re here. If you need anything call me and I’ll be here okay? Try to get some rest, and put ice on your cheek.”
You nodded, knowing that even you wouldn't feel safe anywhere else but there in the district.
After sitting on the small sofa in the break room you eventually fell asleep, tired and worn out from the shift, the day's events and the lack of sleep from the previous night.
Jay and the rest of the team worked nonstop to try and locate the suspect whose name was still unknown. After learning you had hit his nose and you had probably broken it, they called the hospitals in the area and within a radius of about 20km – deducing he wouldn’t be so stupid to go to the hospital where you worked – with the hope that he’d go to get treated.
This hope turned out to be a reality when Kevin was told by a hospital just outside the city that there was a patient matching the description who was still there waiting to be treated for his broken nose.
When Jay went into the break room to warn you they'd found a lead, his heart skipping a beat seeing you asleep. Your head was resting on the back of the couch, your arms folded across your abdomen as your chest slowly rose and fell.
A sad smile spread across his face as he approached you with silent steps, his chest tightening at the sight of that horrible bruise on your cheek. As his eyes roamed on your body, he then noticed some scratches on your forearms and his stomach dropped again for the thousand time that night. He’d never forgive himself for not being able to help you, for failing to realize sooner what was happening, allowing someone to hurt you, he was hating himself for not being there to protect you.
He decided not to wake you up and he leaned over you, gently stroking your hair and tucking a strand behind your ear that had fallen in front of your face. He kissed your forehead, taking an extra second to savor the moment, grateful to still being able to do it.
“I love you so much my baby,” he whispered, “Everything will be okay, I promise you.”
After telling Trudy to stay by your side and never leave you alone, he headed towards the hospital where the suspect was supposed to be, his blood boiling with anger, his hands shaking with the frenzy of being able to have that son in his hands.
The stalker, however, after seeing the cops coming, didn't hesitate for a second to run away. Jay chased after him, determined not to let him get away.
“Chicago PD! Stop now!” Jay shouted as he quickly descended the emergency stairs and followed the man, skipping a few steps at a time in an attempt to reach him first. The fact the man was injured went to his advantage as Jay took the opportunity to jump on his back, causing both of them to fall heavily to the ground.
Jay's vision immediately blurred with anger.
He punched him in the face, using all the strength he had in his body to hurt him. “Son of a bitch!” He exclaimed through clenched teeth, punching him again and again. He didn't care about anything, he didn't care about the consequences there could be. He just wanted to see him suffer, to see him writhe in pain and fear, just the way you did.
“You made a fucking mistake tonight,” Jay spat, standing up and grabbing him by the collar of his shirt, lifting him up like a sack of potatoes before slamming him heavily against the wall. The man coughed, letting out sounds of pain even if Jay couldn't care less. “You'll wish you’d never met her when I'm done with you, you worthless piece of shit.”
He hit him in the face with another punch, not caring about the blood splattered on him after each blow.
He didn't even realize he wasn't alone anymore. Voight was there and watched the scene without batting an eyelid. He deserved it, he deserved everything Jay would do to him, not just for you but also for those poor women who weren’t lucky enough to survive. He knew there was no way to stop him, even if he wanted to, especially since you were involved.
Jay hit the man's head against the wall, then pushing him to the ground. He approached him and without any mercy and without even acknowledging the man's suffering, he kicked him in the stomach.
“Fuck…” the man murmured weakly.
“Look at me you son of a bitch!” Jay cursed, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt again and punching him in the face. “You thought it was fucking fun to hurt my fiancée?!”.
Another strong punch.
“Answer me!” He shouted, knowing he’d not receive a response.
Jay had completely lost control.
His mind was only picturing your wounded and tear-stained face, your terrified expression, your eyes full of tears, the bruises on your arm, on your face, the scratches, the way you hugged him so tightly because of the terror you felt, the fear you must have felt in those weeks.
“You thought you’d get away with it huh?! Making my future wife's life a fucking hell?!” He growled again, kicking this time the man’s face. “Making her scared of her own fucking shadow?!”.
Another kick in the stomach.
He was about to kill him and he didn’t give a fuck.
He bent over the man who was then barely breathing. “Did you like putting your useless dirty hands on my girl, huh?” he hissed as his foot stepped on one of the man’s hand with so much force until he heard his screams and his bones cracking.
He didn't move anymore, now unconscious and covered in his own blood.
Voight intervened at that point, not even knowing if he was alive or not. “That's okay Jay, calm down now.” He placed his hands on his shoulders, pulling him away from the unconscious man. Jay was breathing heavily, as if he had just run a marathon, his angry eyes still focused on the bastard lying on the ground.
“Now get away from here. Go out from the emergency exit and drive back to your fiancée, you were always there with her okay? I’m sure she needs you now.” Voight had ordered him but Jay didn't respond at first. “Halstead.”
At that point Jay focused his gaze on his boss and nodded feebly, casting one last glance at the stalker before walking away.
He wiped his face and hands with a handkerchief he had found in the car, trying to ignore the pain in his swelled hand, his knuckles red.
He never regretted what he did.
He had always condemned the brutal ways some cops used, like his own boss did sometimes, but in that moment he didn't stop to think about how he’d not hesitate even a second to do it again and make suffer anyone who’d hurt you.
When it came to you he’d lose his mind, his judgment clouded. You were the most important person in his life, the most precious of treasures, and he’d protect you with his own life if he could, if it meant keep you safe forever. It may have seemed an exaggeration, it may have seemed crazy, but he didn't care, God, he would’ve burn the entire city to the ground if it meant protecting you.
And as he drove to the district, eager to see you again, only one thought ran through his mind: how much he regretted not making that piece of shit suffer more.
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copperbadge · 11 months ago
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Feeling a little overly perceived by Dr. Dodson right now, not gonna lie.
I'll throw a transcript under the cut, but both reading the transcript and listening to the video can be difficult as it's quite long, so here's some highlights. As always, these are the opinions of a specialist but only one specialist, so take with a grain of salt, and if you have research to add to this, please feel free to comment or reblog with it. I believe this presentation is from sometime in 2022.
ADHD appears to derive from issues in the corpus striatum in the brain. In most people, the corpus striatum filters out all but the most important input AND output; with ADHD, the things normally handled "outside of awareness" must be handled consciously.
People with ADHD don't see their emotions coming. Emotion is immediate, intense, and unfiltered, making therapies like CBT or ACT difficult, because you can learn the technique but you won't have time to employ it. Because people with ADHD have impulse control issues, expressing emotions "inappropriately" is common, leading people with ADHD to believe they can't trust themselves.
One function of ADHD-typical dysregulation is Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria, which nobody understands even a little. People who have it can't even adequately describe it to people who want to study it. It is intense, painful, and apparently impossible to control. Prevention is based in maladaptive behaviors designed to avoid it entirely (perfectionism, people pleasing, generalized withdrawal). The only currently known treatment is alpha agonist medication.
Lastly, by the age of twelve, a child with ADHD has likely received twenty thousand more "negative or corrective" messages than their neurotypical peers. (This isn't relevant to the rest, I just found it sufficiently horrifying to warrant inclusion. Fortunately for me, if I got 20,000 negative or corrective messages, I wasn't paying attention for most of them.)
Anyway, here's the transcript of the first half. I did this by copying and cleaning up the auto-transcript on YouTube, but I stopped at Question Time, so this is only the first half (the presentation). Transcription of the second half is available at YouTube.
There is suddenly a very large interest in the whole subject of emotional dysregulation and ADHD. That has been driven oddly enough by the Food and Drug Administration, which has just opened up several pathways that drug companies can study emotional dysregulation and whether or not their medications can get an FDA indication for emotional dysregulation. So it's sort of follow the money. Up until then, there was not a great deal of interest for ADHD emotional dysregulation.
We have to understand that the ADHD diagnostic criteria were not made for people like you and me, either practitioners or people who have ADHD or their families. They were designed for and made by people who do research and pretty much that's it. People who do research have to have criteria that they can physically see and count. "Little Johnny was up and out of his chair three times in the last hour," and you can write a three on your clipboard. Things which are invisible, not always there, hard to count, or even hidden by the patient, don't lend themselves to research very easily and so tend to be ignored. And so consequently this is one of the main reasons why emotional dysregulation -- until there was some other motive provided -- was pretty much ignored and disregarded.
Consequently ADHD right now, if you look at the 18 diagnostic criteria, are almost entirely behavioral criteria. What is the person doing? Not how is the person thinking, what is the patient feeling, how are they controlling their emotions, how are they sleeping. Things that are all very, very important to the person who has ADHD but which is essentially ignored by the diagnostic criteria.
Why should you care? Who really cares about this? Well, the definition of what ADHD is and isn't defines who and what will be studied. It defines who will actually get into a study and what questions will be asked. It defines who will be diagnosed with ADHD and who will not. One of the most common problems I get is with a secondary referral to me -- somebody clearly has ADHD but they're not pinging off the walls, they can sit and do their work, especially when they get into a hyperfocus, and so they're told they couldn't possibly have ADHD. When really they just have the inattentive subtype and they're not being driven by their behavior, their overt behavior. Therefore it defines who will get treatment, who will get insurance coverage for that treatment, and who will get accommodations in school when they're young and at the workplace when they're older.
Consequently we should also care because the other major components of ADHD get ignored. These are the ones that if you really stand back and look at it cause the greatest amount of impairment, the greatest amount of embarrassment, the greatest amount of just…problems in general. We're talking about cognition and thinking, that people with ADHD fundamentally think in a different way than do neurotypical people. They are able to engage with the tasks of their lives in a totally different way. Their ability to control their emotions and their behavior, control their emotional responses, tremendously affects their self-esteem and their self-definition. Who am I? What am I worth? What am I valued? Why am I valued in a certain way? What do other people think of me?
It affects tremendously the nature and healthiness of relationships. How you respond emotionally to the people in your realm makes a great deal of difference about the healthiness and gratification you get from your relationships. Being highly dysregulated in terms of your energy and emotions also affects deeply how well you sleep, how easy it is to fall asleep and awake refreshed, and of course it affects emotional dysregulation.
And this is probably, when you look at it in the long term and especially with adults, probably the most impairing part of the ADHD syndrome. The vast majority of people with ADHD have found ways around their academic and work performance, but they haven't found their way around their emotional reactions to the people and events of their lives.
At all points in the life cycle -- child, adolescent, adult, and elderly -- people who have ADHD nervous systems lead intense, passionate lives. Their highs are higher, their lows are lower, all of their emotions are much more intense. And that really is what we're talking about: not really the quality of the emotions -- people who have ADHD have the same types of emotions for the same reasons that everybody else does. What we're talking here, in terms of dysregulation, is two things: one, the expression of emotions, being able to choose whether or not you let an emotion out. And then, when you do decide to express it, how intensely that emotion is experienced and expressed by you as a unique individual.
Consequently just about everybody with ADHD, but especially little children, are always at some sort of risk of being overwhelmed by their own emotions from within themselves. This is something that needs to be really emphasized: a lot of people with ADHD grow up not being able to trust themselves.
So why is this happening, especially to people with ADHD? I think that just about everybody now would agree that ADHD is primarily a problem of insufficient inhibition, being able to slow down and keep things from happening. If you look at the mass of the human brain, 85% of all the nerves in your brain and out in your nervous system are inhibitory in function. We happen to be aware of the other 15% because we can see what happens when those nerves are used: they create movement, they create emotions, they create our experience and memory. We have to remember they are a minority of the actual mass of the human brain.
Most of what happens inside the brain occurs outside of awareness. What happens is the brain starts something, it gets it moving, and then uses inhibition to guide that toward the destination it wants. It's like shooting off a rocket -- shooting it off is the easy part, guiding it to where you want it to go is the hard part.
When you look at where stimulant class medications work, they work solely in the deep areas of the brain down in the basal ganglia, and especially in an area called the corpus striatum, which is just Latin for a "striped body". That's how it looks when you look at it -- it's got many very fine stripes in it. This area, the corpus striatum, is almost entirely inhibitory in function. What it does is that it inhibits neurological input and output to just the one piece of information or one action that happens to be most important at that time. Everything else gets handled, but it gets handled out of awareness.
Probably the easiest place to see this in action is when we're driving a car. Driving a car is the most difficult thing that the average human being ever has to learn how to do. It's a very difficult process, if anybody has ever had an adolescent learning to drive. But once we learn how to drive a car we do it largely outside of our own conscious awareness. We can drive along, talk to the person on the seat next to us, think about what we're going to have for dinner, sing along to the radio, and not really pay attention, conscious attention, to what's going on around us. But if suddenly something is out in front of the car, even before our conscious brain can process what that thing is, our corpus striatum has already handled it. Slam on the brakes, swerve to miss it, start to question that person's parentage, in the twinkling of an eye. The corpus striatum has been scanning everything, handling everything.
So basically what ADHD is, is that relative lack of inhibition that should be there. Inattention, which is a cardinal feature of ADHD, is the relative lack of the inhibition of other inputs or distractions. When we look at physiologically what's happening, we don't actually pay attention to one thing. Neurologically, we suppress every other thing we might engage with except the one thing that we want. It is maximally inefficient in that way.
Impulsivity is a relative lack of inhibition, of the expression of actions and emotions before you can think about them and make decisions about that expression. Hyperactivity is the relative lack of inhibition of physical and mental activity. When the physical activity of the hyperactive little boy who's pinging off a wall goes away in adolescence, they're still very much mentally active in their own brains.
So what? The “so what” for most of us is that when this area of the brain is not working as it should, people cannot regulate the experience and expression of their emotions. Emotions are experienced as completely unmodified and unscreened. The word that most people use is that they are raw. They come out without any modification at all, they go in without any modification at all. People can see this in hyperacusis, where somebody chewing or the conversation across the restaurant comes in loud and clear because it can't be screened out.
All this is tremendously overwhelming. We get overwhelmed by entirely too much input, and the impulse to have entirely too much output. It's exhausting, and when it does get inappropriately expressed it's embarrassing, so consequently people with ADHD must always be vigilant of themselves.
Now, when we look at the traditional therapies that have been used, or tried to be used, with ADHD, they have had very very poor track records. They're largely ineffective in helping people control the expression of what they think and feel. The reason for this is that people with ADHD don't see their own emotions, their own actions, coming. They find out about their emotions and actions the same way everybody else does: it's already out there before they even know that it's coming. Consequently they don't have the time and the warning to use the techniques and new skills that they may have learned in behavior modification therapy, or in cognitive therapy. They learned them, learned them perfectly well, but the cat’s out of the bag before they can make use of them.
Right now, as we sit here today, medications are the only thing we have to offer that have a proven track record, because they're there all the time. We have two basic groups: we have the stimulant class medications which are amphetamine, methylphenidate, et cetera, which help directly with inhibition. They help slow things down, they help inhibit both input that would distract us and output. It gives you the same two seconds that everybody else has, to see an emotion or an action coming up, to play it out in your mind. “If this happens then this will happen, then that'll happen. Oh, I don't want that to happen, I'll redirect it.”
The alpha agonist, of which we have two -- guanfacine and clonidine -- inhibit the energy driving the speed and intensity of response. Interesting enough, when we look at just clean effectiveness, when we measure how effective is this treatment, the alpha agonists are significantly more effective than are the stimulants. Usually that's kind of a false choice, because most people end up taking both classes of medication.
A very special type, I think, of emotional dysregulation is -- again a terrible technical term -- what's called Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria. We actually don't know what it is. It's much too early to tell. But it does seem to be a thing with which many people with ADHD identify. There was a brief article from ADDitude that got posted on Reddit, on their subreddit on ADHD; that particular posting got twice as many responses, in less than a month, than any other posting that had ever been put on that subreddit. It really touched a lot of people in a strong way.
In my own checklist, when I'm asking about Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria, the question I have is: “For your entire life, in other words going all the way back into childhood, have you always been much more sensitive than other people you know to rejection, teasing, criticism, or your own perception that you’ve failed or fallen short?” This is directly from a psychiatric textbook, an old one, and it's the definition of a technical term, for psychiatrists called Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria.
It's important to note, this is all a matter of degree. No one likes being rejected or criticized. Everybody hates it when we fail, we fall short, especially in front of other people. Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria is much more intense, and is much more than this universal discomfort.
When they were originally doing the research on this particular idea, 45 years ago, they wanted to get that intensity right up there in the name, and so they chose the word dysphoria -- which unfortunately happens to be Greek -- but it means “unbearable”. Because that was the description they were getting from people over and over and over again. Again, for reasons unknown, people with rejection sensitivity have trouble describing what the intense emotion is all about. They can describe its intensity -- “it's awful, it's terrible, it's catastrophic,” -- but not the quality of the mood. And so, over and over again, these research subjects would finally just tell the researcher, “Look, man, back off. I can't find words to tell you what this awful feeling feels like, but I want you to know I can hardly stand it.” And so that's where the word dysphoria came from. A researcher at Harvard who decided to put it into Greek, but that unbearable quality is very much a part of what's going on, a part of the experience of Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria.
It's extremely common in people with ADHD; my guess is that about 95% of my patients report it as a significant impairment, and about a third of my patients say that it is by far the most impairing part of their ADHD. For the majority of people, and most occurrences, it is not that particularly disruptive, but when it hits, it turns your life upside down.
So how is rejection sensitivity experienced? There's no warning. It hits out of the blue; there's no way to protect yourself from it. It happens all at once, it goes from zero to a hundred percent instantaneously. It is commonly experienced as being physically painful, as if someone just punched you in the chest or punched you in the stomach -- there's an aching in the core of your being.
Once it gets started it seems to be largely uncontrollable until it's run its course, whatever it is. The quality of the mood is indescribable. Most people struggle to find any words at all to describe this feeling, even though it's massively intense. The duration can be a few minutes to several months. It's a very potent experience and can make it very difficult to risk ever being rejected or criticized again.
If this very intense emotional reaction is internalized, it looks for all the world like an instantaneous major depression, complete with suicidal thinking. And so a lot of times people do get a diagnosis of major depression, because the clinician they're working with fails to pick up the triggered, instantaneous nature of the onset of that depressive-looking syndrome. If it's externalized, it presents as a rage that is directed at the person or situation that wounded them so terribly. In fact, being “wounded” is is a very common description. This sort of sudden trigger change, with an intense emotional response, not uncommonly leads to a misdiagnosis of borderline character organization.
So if you can't see it coming, and you can't do anything once it's happened, how do people try and protect themselves from episodes of rejection sensitivity happening in the first place? Some people use perfectionism; they try to be above reproach. They feel driven to be the very best at everything they do. These are the penultimate overachievers. It works, but it's also an absolutely terrible, driven way in which to live.
By far the most common response is that people become people pleasers. They are constantly scanning everybody around them and trying to figure out what that person wants or would approve of, and that's what they give them, so much so that it is the to the exclusion of what they want for their own lives. These are people who take care of others, please others, to the exclusion of any sort of gratification in their own lives.
Another very common way that people try to deal with this is that they give up trying anything new, giving up anything in which they might fail or be embarrassed. I have hundreds of patients who have never been able to apply for a job or ask someone of the opposite sex out for a date. Just the imagination of being told no is so frightening, so devastating, that they just say, “No, I'm not going there. I'll sit this one out.”
One of the most effective ways of dealing with this are the alpha agonist medications, and when they work they can be almost completely effective. Alpha agonist again is a tongue twisting name, but it's not as tongue-twisting as the full name, which is alpha-2 selective adrenergic agonists. So you can see why we shorten it a bit. They were originally blood pressure medications that came on the market in the early 1980s. They worked very poorly -- when they did work, at most they lowered blood pressure about 10%, which was measurable but it still required other things that needed to be done in order to get most people's blood pressure down into a therapeutic range.
We have two of them, guanfacine which was marketed both as immediate release and extended release under the name of Intuniv, and clonidine, which was marketed under the trade name of Kapvay, both as an immediate release product and as a delayed release product. They have been used as a treatment of the hyperactive component of ADHD for more than 30 years, so these are not new medications for the field of ADHD. They're very much the treatment of choice for the “hyperactive, disruptive, and obnoxious little boy” that is what most people have in their minds when they consider the notion of “What does a person with ADHD look like?”
The exact mechanism of action of these medications both in ADHD and especially in rejection sensitivity is highly unclear. We really don't know -- we have a couple of ideas but they are very definitely theoretical. The only thing that we know for sure is that the stimulants don't work by stimulating anything, and that the alpha agonists don't work by being alpha agonists. How they do work is completely unknown.
We have two medications, they seem to work equally well, so there's nothing that would lead you to choose one over the other. The problem is that the robust response that we're looking for that really changes people's lives, is disappointingly low -- at about 30% to either molecule. Luckily that 30% is a different 30% of people, so that 30% of people get a good response to guanfacine but it's largely a different 30% that get a response to clonidine. So if the first medication tried does not work, it makes good clinical sense that that one should be stopped and the other one tried. There was an unfortunately worded sentence in an article I wrote for ADDitude several years ago that gave the impression that you could use the two medications together; they should not be used together. You try one, if that doesn't work you try the other.
The typical dose of either one is in the range of three milligrams of guanfacine per day or about three tenths of a milligram of clonidine per day. If you take all the people who get a good robust response to either one of these medications, about 80% are going to end up at these doses, so it's by far the most common dose.
There are of course side effects. Anything that's going to adjust the adrenaline system of the body is going to have the potential for sedation as a side effect, and this does occur for about 25% of people. It's usually mild and it does go away -- over a period of several months. So a person has to be fairly patient with that. It can cause dry mouth, and it's by a different mechanism then the stimulants can cause dry mouth, so the two of them together can really make your mouth cottony dry. And the third one is an accentuation of a universal experience we've all had, when we stand up quickly and suddenly and we get dizzy, get kind of a head rush, vision goes a bit gray. The technical term for it is orthostasis. And this can happen more frequently when you take the alpha agonist medications.
The benefits of the alpha agonist medications take a while to develop. When you change the dose it takes five days for the benefits to develop, so once again they're not like the stimulants where what you see is what you get at one hour. It takes a while for these medications to work and to see all that they can do.
Now just as a side note, Strattera has been looked at in two studies for emotional dysregulation and the results have been what they call mixed. If they did work it was only to a very minimal degree, almost undetectable, so Strattera does not seem to be a medication one could use and expect to have it help with emotional dysregulation.
So in summary, emotional dysregulation is a basic feature of ADHD, is almost universal in ADHD, and it should be considered as a core symptom of ADHD that ought to be evaluated in every initial evaluation. Rejection sensitivity…it's unclear yet -- this is an old concept that has only been brought up in the last couple of years. Its exact nature is still unclear. It does seem to be a specific form of emotional dysregulation, especially in regard that it does respond very well to medication. But again, how it fits into emotional dysregulation is completely unclear at this point. It does seem to be something that's really important, though. It is a thing that resonates with a large number of people with ADHD.
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idesofrevolution · 10 months ago
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Father
Dad had been acting strange for quite some time. Honestly, it wasn't that noticeable in the beginning, which I suppose made it difficult to pinpoint when things started to change. I only started to notice maybe seven months or so ago after he turned down the daily Budweiser. Patrick O'Shaughnessy turning down his biggest vice? I knew something was off right then and there as he sat there, smiling at me from his armchair with the game on in the background: red flag number two, my stepfather had NEVER been a sports guy. Binging Fox News while fingering pudding cups, sure; but actually knowing what was happening in a football game?
I'd originally thought he'd perhaps found a side girl to cheat on my mom with. It was far from outside of his character to do something like that, if he'd ever be able to get his nasty ass out of the recliner for ten fucking minutes... He'd gotten too comfortable in his laziness. When my mom married him a year ago, he was already a piece of shit lardass who refused to do a single thing around the house, refused to work a normal job (he was waiting for a management position apparently), and above all refused to acknowledge me whatsoever. He was rude, crass, could never even so much as break a smile at me. And there, in that moment as his eyes made contact with mine and his lips curled into a smile, I knew something was wrong.
"What, no beer burps for me today?" I scowled at him, raising my eyebrow in a malicious curiosity.
"Nahh little man, I'm trying to cut down." Little man? He'd never gotten my name right let alone given me a nickname... We did not have that kind of relationship, at least one that would have an affectionate nickname for one another. "Say, I'm hittin' the gym in a couple minutes. Whaddya say you come along?"
"You're... you're going to the gym? Really?" I sat there slackjawed. Something was indeed off. What it was, I couldn't exactly tell. Nothing outside of his UberEats order would ever get Patrick out of the chair. He laughed at me, gripping his sizeable paunch beneath his stained tee shirt.
"You bet, bud. High time I set an example for my boy. How's he gonna respect a couch potato loser? You should come along. Nothin' like a father and son spending time together, especially in the gym. Get the boys lookin', right?" He stood up from his chair, grabbing his keys off the kitchen countertop as he headed toward his car. I, on the other hand, stood there with tunnel vision. Patrick was not the most supportive parent when it came to... well, anything. But the biggest bone of contention was me coming out to them last year. It was the biggest hullabaloo, Oscar worthy. Thrown glasses, flipped chairs, disownment, threats of eviction... the only thing that kept me in the house was my mother putting her foot down. It wasn't a big deal for her, but for him... I was the biggest embarrassment on the planet. What would Tucker Carlson think?
Yet as I stood there, staring at the cigarette-stained wall, my brain couldn't process what I'd just heard. 'Get the boys lookin' he said... As if he were trying to play wing man for me... What the fuck was happening? My heart fluttered the moment his words sank in, that was pride. It was something neither my father nor my stepdad ever had the courtesy of giving me. My walls were up, and I was beyond skeptical, so for my own peace of mind I had decided then and there to investigate.
From that day on, the moment I came home from school, I was spying. While most of my friends were trying to enjoy their senior year, going to parties or getting ready for college, I was at home peering behind corners at my stepfather. Over the first few months I watched with complete disbelief at the changes. Every single day, I'd come home, and he'd be on his way out to the gym. The normal scowl he'd gift me upon my entry was replaced with jovial smiles and hair ruffling as he schlepped his gym bag over his shoulder out the door. He'd be gone for two or three hours at least, and come home just before dinner dripping in buckets of sweat. I'd begun to avoid driving his car, as the stink of his sweat had completely inundated the fabric of the seats. He'd toss his bag on the floor by my book bag (gross), and plop down at the dinner table where he would ask genuinely about my day or sweetly flirt with my mom while winking at me. I still wasn't convinced. He kept asking me nearly every day if I'd come to the gym with him, if we could go shoot hoops at the park across the street, or if I'd play FIFA with him. Each time I'd shoot him down, he'd have a momentary break in that happy facade of his, as if it were hurting him I wasn't spending time with him.
Within five months or so, he was nearly unrecognizable. I guess protein shakes & a low carb diet really works on a guy: he'd lost nearly 70 pounds and gained about 20 in muscle alone. He'd struck up friendships with my school's wrestling coach and a couple of the neighbors, and we were finding ourselves invited to barbecues and block parties for the first time. I had to endure little hallway chats with Coach Weston about joining the wrestling team, as he was in talks with the school district about bringing my stepdad on as assistant coach. It was bizarre to me for many reasons, but one stood out above all: Patrick was never a wrestler. Not in college, not in high school, my mom even confirmed it one night at dinner. He'd brush it off as if it were something fun he were doing with 'Dane', which in and of itself was weird to hear the coach's first name used at all at home.
Sleep was getting difficult. My mind ran at a thousand miles an hour, but now he and mom had begun to fuck like rabbits. Loud, hard sex almost every other night with their bed slamming against my bedroom wall for hours. Mom of course was radiant at that point. The years of one piece of shit husband being a complete and total asshole, replaced by another piece of shit husband treating her like garbage melted away in the course of a couple of months of Patrick being a strangely brilliant partner. He'd started to cook us meals, he'd started to do the yardwork, he'd even fixed things around the house that had been broken for years. Sure, the sex seemed to help, but as she would say: "He's lessened my load so much, Jonas. I wish you'd give him a chance."
Sure, he was treating my mom well and that was a good enough reason for me to like him. Was it enough to trust him? No. I'd still turn down every single request to spend time alone with him. No gym. No basketball court. No gaming. Though, in one single concession for my mom's sake, I begrudgingly agreed to let him drive me to school in the morning. That one decision is what truly changed my life forever. I went to bed that night, putting on my earbuds to drown out their disgusting sex in the next room, less than eager for the fifteen minute drive the next day.
Thus, on that warm April day, my morning began as normal. Shower, dress, drink my morning smoothie, grab my bag, and walk out the door. It wasn't long before I was greeted by his chipper, dim witted voice shattering my peaceful morning.
"Ayy little man!" I sighed, turning toward the garage, where there he stood: shirtless and dripping sweat from his chiseled body. As a gay guy, I have to admit, it was hard not to stare. He had become quite a sight to behold. The other moms in the neighborhood certainly would sit and stare at him on his morning runs, even a couple of the dads as well, and now I sat there oogling the ripped, gleaming body he'd built.
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"Hey, Patrick. Do you need to shower? I have to get going, but I can catch the bus if there's not enough time?" In my head, I was praying to God that he'd just hop in the shower he never seemed to take and I could go on my merry way. Though, no such luck.
"Nah, man! It's all good. I promised you I'd take you to school, so hop in the car!" I sighed, turning to his 1998 Mustang with a shiver cascading down my spine.
"Sure, Patrick." I dragged my feet headed toward his car. Opening the door, the humid, musky air within poured out of the car, punching me in the face with his scent. Imagine a noxious waft of butter, blue cheese, saltwater, and feet just drowning you. That was the stink that swamped his car, and him for that matter. I took one final breath of fresh air before I sat in the car and closed the door. He wasn't far behind, not even bothering to put a shirt on as he hopped in beside me.
"Alright! Let's get goin' bud!" He turned the key and the car roared to life. I sighed, thankful it was only fifteen minutes. As we pulled out of the driveway and onto the street, I turned on the radio, hoping to dissuade him from making some puerile small talk. We sat there in silence for a moment, before hitting the main road. "You know what, bud?" He turned to me, looking me up and down before rolling up the windows and turning off the radio. "Ahhh fuck it. We're playing hooky today."
"Wait, what?" I had no time to protest, before he turned onto the main road, but in the opposite direction from the school. "Patrick, I'm not playing hooky. I have to go to school." He laughed, ruffling my hair yet again.
"You gotta stop callin' me Patrick, Jonas. I don't have to be dad if you don't want, but Patrick is so... not me. Just call me Pat."
"Okay, PAT. I'm going to school." He turned to me, and his smile faded, letting out a solid sigh that would put mine to shame. He pulled over onto the shoulder, and put the car in park.
"Listen. I know you don't like me. I know you don't trust me, and I get it. I made a lot of changes to him very quickly, and it's hard to keep up." Him? Why did he say it like that? "I'd been watching you just suffer endlessly for years, man. All the time. I just wanted you to have a good role model for once. A man you could lean on, and not some shitty lard who talks bad to ya."
"What the fuck are you on about?" My patience had worn too thin for my calm veneer to bear. He turned the key, and the engine quickly died.
"C'mon bro. You know something's different about him, right? I know you've been watchin' me like a hawk. Think I haven't noticed you watchin' me from around the hall corner? You think I don't know you're creepin' while I beat one out huffin' my strap? I know, dude. I've always known. C'mon, man." Pat threw his hands in the air in frustration, the first time since his attitude adjustment that I'd seen anything like it. But, this was different. It wasn't rage, it was exasperation.
"Okay, Pat. So you saw me watching you. Can you please tell me what the fuck is going on now?" He slowly rested his sweaty head against the headrest, and sighed. Then, a chuckle. Then another, until he was full on laughing. "What!?"
"Ahhh, man. I never thought I'd see the day you'd man up and come to. Yeah, Jonas. I can tell you what the fuck is going on." I sat back, confounded- even more so than before. "My name was Matt Wilde. Way back in the day, I used to wrestle for Palm Heights High. Was pretty damn good at it too, but one day I got pinned just a little too hard and poof."
"Matt Laurent? What the fuck are you talking about, Pat? Are you high?" His dumb laugh threw him back in the seat.
"Nah, I finished that joint earlier, man. Stone sober now. But, safe to say for the past 50 years I've been just hoppin' body to body. Started with a couple of my teammates just so I could finish out the years, wrestle a bit more. Got bored, hung around the gym, in and out of some lug heads. Did a stint in some Libertines, that was fun as fuck. But man, I saw you sulkin' around the school for the past three years and thought, damn that kid looks sad. So, I may have eavesdropped a bit, maybe caught a bit about your dead beat, piece of shit dad; then right after he ditches, Mom lands this fuckin' winner." He slapped his chest, little droplets of his sweat landing on my bewildered face. "Oh shit, my bad." I sat there, slackjawed, completely disoriented as he dumbly wiped his sweat off my nose and cheek.
"You... you're dead?" He snapped his fingers, winking and smirking at me.
"Bingo, bud. Right on the money. I was like, I'm in a very unique situation here to fuckin' do something this. So, I slipped into this dumbass and just stuck around. Did the work. Tried, emphasis on TRIED, to be like the Dad I had and that you deserve, ya know? Haven't made it fuckin' easy, but... ahhh. That's parenthood, am I right?" I scoffed, he must have taken some damn good drugs. I was convinced. There was no way!
"Okay, then. MATT. So, if you're some dead jock bro possessing Pat, where the fuck is he?" He pondered for a moment in silence, shrugging his shoulders.
"I think he's gone, bro. I haven't stayed in a dude this long, I used to hear him bitchin' and moanin' all the time, but he went silent a couple of weeks ago." Fuck, I wish that were true. I had to admit, even if only in my mind, this Matt-Patrick was lightyears better than Patrick Patrick. Sure, he was dumb, he was every stereotype dudebro in the book, he smelled like he bathed in sweat baths... But, for the first time in my life, he wanted to be around me. He wanted to spend time with me. He made an effort. He... liked me. The mental gymnastics needed to make sense of the situation was growing too monumental to comprehend, but in that moment as he sat there with his dumb fucking grin on his face as if I was going to just completely buy it, I started to hope it was true.
"So, what now, Matt? Are you just gonna keep fucking my mom and prentending to be my Dad for the rest of your life? Or are you gonna hop out and ditch us?" He raised his eyebrow in genuine confusion.
"I mean, yeah that was the plan. One, your mom is fuckin' hot and she's better than any girl I've ever been with. Two, I kinda like our little family. Three, I ain't ditchin' ya, bro. You had enough of that shit for one lifetime. Besides, I gotta get you to chill the fuck out one way or another, so I was hoping we could give it a shot. Like I've been beggin' man." 'Matt' put his hands together as if praying, pleading to me. I suppose it wouldn't be the worst thing. It's better than coming home every day to spy on him, and it's way better than being the sad wallflower all the fucking time. Besides, those dumb fucking puppy dog eyes...
"You know what? Sure, Matt. What did you have in mind?" I could barely finish my sentence before he'd twisted the key and slammed on the gas. The man drove like a bat out of hell through town, hooting and hollering in victory as if he'd won a match.
"Hell fuckin' yeah, man! Dude we're gonna be so tight, it's gonna be awesome. You're gonna be so fuckin' sexy, the dudes are gonna be on their knees by the time we're done! Slobberin' on that dick like SLURPEDY SLURP! WOO!" So fuckin' dumb. Dumb as a box of rocks. But I couldn't help but crack a smile as he swerved left and right, shouting at the top of his lungs. "Let's get you sweatin' man. We can get you pumpin' iron, playin' ball... I'm burning everything you got in your closet, bro. Nobody wants polos and button ups, man. Gettin' you some J's, some good jocks. Oh, how do you feel about chains?"
"Matt, dude. I'm not like you. That's all well and good for you, but I can't pull that shit off..." He slammed on the brakes and a cavalcade of horns from behind us rang out like a brass band. Matt whipped his gaze to me in shock.
"Don't say that, bro! You could be a bona fide stud! Look at you, man!" A couple of hard slaps against my bony chest and a harsh wheeze later, perhaps it sank in a bit. "Aight, well we have some work to do. I mean, if you're up for it." He smirked at me, lifting up those massive arms and flexing. His veins bulged from his massive bicep, the wet hairs in his ripe pits wafted that pungent scent I'd regrettably started to secretly love... Yeah, maybe I did want it.
"I don't know how, man. If I were like you, I bet I could." As if a cartoon lightbulb flickered to life above his head, I saw the spark of inspiration hit him like a sack of bricks. That stupid smirk grew into a wide, toothy grin.
"Aight, bro. Haven't tried this before, but I'll give it a go." He clapped his hands together, rubbing them gently. "I saw Jimmy Morales do this once when he needed a spotter. Gotta ask, though. You trust me, right?" I sat there and wondered if I did. I'd pretended up until this point that I believed every word that had come out of his mouth. This insane, psychotic story. It was nuts. It was crazy. But that little voice in the back of my head, deep down in the dark recesses of my brain decided to finally speak up.
"Yeah, Matt. I trust you."
"ALRIGHT! Fuck yeah, man. Oh shit, this is gonna be great! Okay, so don't freak out, just trust me and let it happen, okay? It doesn't hurt, the dudes usually bust a nut after it's all over." I heard a squelching rumble from in his stomach: wet, guttural, as if he were getting ready to vomit. Which became more and more likely as I saw a lump start to make it's way up his throat.
"Matt..." His body began to shudder and quake, his veins bulging and head thrashing from side to side. Then, from between his lips, a glowing blue vapor began to slip out. It was tiny at first, a little tail whipping about, before more and more of it started to bellow out of his mouth. Slick, bulbous, translucent. I had mere seconds of watching it slither out before it darted right into my own slack jaw. It squirmed as it wriggled from his body into mine, slurping deep into my bulging stomach. The feeling of fullness overtook me, watching more and more of the rubbery thing enter me, squeezing into every available inch within me, and he was right: it felt good. It felt like an eternity, but in reality it was just moments. The last of suctioned into me, and the world went black.
---
I woke the next morning in my bed. Shooting straight upright in a puddle of sweat. I rubbed my hands on my face, running my fingers through my drenched hair. What a fuckin' dream. I groaned as doubled over in pain. I felt like I was hit by a train. Everything hurt, a soreness unlike anything I'd ever experienced before radiated from every fiber of my being. Then, a soft caress of the nostril. Salty, buttery, funky... I raised my arm, finding the culprit immediately.
"Fuck!" I spat out, before taking a deep breath, another hit. "Fuuuuck..." Another inhale, a familiar stink, a comforting stink. What started as gentle whiffs quickly turned into full on huffing. I buried my nose in my pit, letting the wet jungle lather my face in my own sweat.
"Morning, bro. Good shit, ain't it?" The words echoed in my head, a soft, rippling little voice from within my brain. I should have been alarmed, terrified, even. But no, the words felt like gospel to me. "We really went to town yesterday, man. I had you liftin' like an Olympian. Take it easy. Here, I'll be right there, I got just the thing for it!" My hands started to drift southward, beneath the waistband of the teal sweats I didn't own... Were they... Pats? The door to my room burst open mid-huff, and in walked the hulking tower himself with a tray in hand.
"Goooood Morning, Kiddo! I made ya a protein shake, good recovery breakfast after a workout sesh like we had! Oh, your Mom made eggs!" He walked over to the side of my bed, kicking the Jordans I'd borrowed from him to the side. Wait, when did I do that? "Eat up, champ. Those 'ceps aren't gonna feed themselves!" Slamming the tray down onto my thighs, I let out a groan of pain.
"Pat? Dude, I had the weirdest dream." Dude? I never say dude. I cupped my hand, slick with sweat and pre over my mouth, aghast at the words coming out of my mouth. Pat smiled, grabbing the shake and handing it to me. "Drink up, my dude. For real, you're gonna be in a world of hurt otherwise." The voice boomed in my head, HIS voice. But his lips hadn't moved an inch. "Pat..." I ripped the sheets off of me, sure enough, I was sporting his nasty sweatpants & drenched socks. Cupping my manhood was most definitely his grimy jockstrap. "Hey, if we were gonna have the best workout, I had to be comfortable, bro! I knew you'd get it, though." I looked at him, a tight lipped smile, as if he were proving to me he weren't talking to me. "Feels good, right! I told ya! Just think, bro. With a half of me in there, you're gonna be unstoppable." I smiled. A genuine fuckin' smile, for the first time in as long as I could remember. I watched as my hand gripped the shake, bringing it to my lips of it's own accord. Downing the vanilla shake, our eyes met, and I understood completely. Matt winked at me, ruffling my hair, and sauntered back out of the door.
I leaned back in my bed, throwing my arm behind my head. The musk drifting from my pits and feet, identical to my dad's. Smirking, I let my fingers drift down to my growing meat in its slimy pouch, knowing fully well that I was in damn fine hands.
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---
So that brings us to today, I guess! One year to the day. One full year since I finally let Dad in. 'Pat' sure did join the wrestling team as assistant coach, bringing his son in tow, eager to finish my senior year with at least a title. Thanks to him, I made varsity after the first fuckin' tryout. Can't say it was all me, all the time, but after a while it was. Honestly, it all started to blend together. Me at the wheel, him at the wheel, soon it sort of blurred and it was just me. That last semester was the best of my whole fucking life. Parties, bodybuilding, skating with the boys, fuckin' the boys... Shit, it was the time of my fuckin' life.
And after every day at school, or at least after every post-practice locker room blow job, I couldn't wait to get home and smash some Call of Duty with the old man. Mom would always come in, making comments on how we seemed as if I'd become a mini-Pat. Finishing eachother's sentences, drinking the same beer, wearing the same kind of clothes... she'd always put our sneaks outside the garage door, "they even stank the same." Little did she know just how much of the same person we really were.
I've decided to stick around the house for a year or so before maybe headed to college. I don't know, family is here, friends are here, Coach Weston should be retiring in a year or two... so there should be an opening for a new assistant coach on the wrestling team. Besides, I may have landed quite the catch in the boyfriend department, and I really want him to meet my dad, I have a feeling they'll get along just fine.
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chukys-mouthguard · 2 months ago
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please please please
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“if you wanna go and be stupid, don’t do it in front of me”
featuring -> matthew tkachuk x female reader
genre -> fluff/angst
word count -> 1.4k
*not proofread
-> short n’ sweet masterlist
Surely there was no way that Matt could even think about alcohol after his multi-day bender after winning the cup. But somehow, he was knee deep in the sand, and knee deep in his fifth margarita. Jumbo margarita to be exact.
You’d begged him to pace himself, mostly concerned his body would shut down on him in protest of not being able to digest any more alcohol. But he reassured you he was good to go!
The vacation was something he’d planned spontaneously, wanting some time for just the two of you before he’d have to retire his party boy ways and get in gear for the upcoming season. Though he’d now gathered quite a reputation from fans and haters across the internet for his persona after winning the cup.
People were calling him all sorts of things, simply because he had been living his best life on cloud nine. Though you knew nothing they said was true, you were a bit unsure of how you’d deal with drunk Matt on this vacation all by yourself.
Thinking back to day three of no sleep when he thought it was a good idea to host a drunk belly flop competition at your house, only for two of his teammates to puke instantly after hitting the water. Not a fun cleanup for those involved, and Matt still won’t live that down in your heart. But this vacation was a good start to him getting back on your good side.
He’d planned a couples massage, a nice moonlit dinner on the beach, the whole nine.
“Matty, I love you.”
He smiled at you from his beach chair, the word drunk practically branded across his forehead and written in his eyes. Eliciting a chuckle from you as he simply whined, hating when you laughed at him when he’d been drinking.
“You say you love me, then you make fun. Not nice.”
“Babe, I do love you. But I also love when you’re acting goofy like this. It makes me smile, it’s not to make fun I promise.”
He just shrugged it off, reaching his hand out for yours as he closed his eyes to enjoy the moment.
“Matthew Brendan Tkachuk, if you don’t hurry up we are gonna be late.”
You scolded as he continued taking his sweet time getting out of bed. His jumbo margaritas having caught up to him and making everything difficult. A groan fell from his lips as he slid off the side of the bed, stumbling to his suitcase to look for clothes to put on.
“Babe, I laid your clothes out already. Come on! We are gonna be late!”
As much as you loved Matthew, he was getting on your last nerve. This vacation was supposed to be a turn from the crazy Stanley Cup celebrations. A chance for the two of you to have a moment for yourselves before training camp and another crazy season got underway. Matthew having told you the trip wouldn’t be consumed with drinking as he was sure his liver couldn’t handle anymore after the week long partying he’d done back home.
You should’ve listened to his dad and Brady, both of them telling you that Matt wasn’t done celebrating yet. Though you wanted to believe he’d retire the alcohol for even a few days to make the most of this trip with you.
He smiled at you with rosey cheeks as he grabbed the clothes from the dresser where you’d set them out, heading into the bathroom to quickly rinse off and get changed.
Checking your watch you knew you were at risk of missing your reservation, this dinner being something you’d looked forward to since the first day here. Matt had put so much planning into it, and soon it would be all for nothing.
“Okay hun, let’s go!”
Matthew finally emerged from the bathroom, the buttons on his shirt proving to be a challenge as none of them lined up properly, causing you to chuckle as you rushed to fix them.
“Matthew, stop it now!”
You scolded him as he was walking along a ledge of the beach, pretending he was on a balance beam at the Olympics. While it was funny at first, the wall had grown increasingly higher and you were nervous that he’d injure himself and put himself in hot water with the organization come training camp in a few weeks.
“Relax babe, m’fine! See!”
He sped up his pace as he quickly put one foot in front of the other, laughing down at you as you tried to keep up with him. Your heels in hand as you weren’t trying to break an ankle chasing down his drunk ass.
“And now for the dismount.”
He stopped in his tracks, taking a deep breath as he turned to face the sand, a concentrated look on his face as you pleaded with him to not do something stupid. Keith and Brady’s words replaying in your head have fun trying to keep him in check. You were very much hating them for ever putting those ideas into the universe right now.
“He’s going to attempt a front tuck, will he stick the landing.”
He flashed a smirk to you with a wink, ignoring your pleading for him to stop. Telling him to think about the upcoming season, training camp, the team would kill him if he ended up with a season ending injury because he was drunk in Mexico pretending to be an Olympic gymnast.
But Matthew surely didn’t listen, attempting his flip only to fail miserably. His groans immediately sobering you up from any drop of alcohol you’d had, though nothing compared to him.
“Matt, are you okay!”
He rolled in the sand grabbing at his shoulder as he groaned, and your fears had come true. A torn ligament, broken bone, surgery, his season would be in jeopardy.
“Matt, come on tell me what’s wrong?”
His groans soon turned to chuckles as he smiled at you, your concern immediately turning to anger as you smacked his arm.
“Are you fucking kidding? What the fuck is wrong with you! Get yourself back to the hotel, I’m done.”
He quickly realized his joke was nothing but, running after you and stopping you in your tracks. His hands were holding tight to yours as he frantically apologized.
“Baby I’m sorry, okay, it wasn’t funny. You’ve just been so stressed and worried about me all trip, I thought you needed a good laugh.”
“So you pretend to fucking get hurt? Everyone told me this trip would be me baby sitting and got were they right! You promised this was a trip for us, to relax after the hype of the Cup celebrations. But here we are with you drunk everyday once again. I should’ve known this would turn into a multi day binge for you.”
You rolled your eyes as you pushed past him. Matthew cursing himself for fucking up this trip, one that he’d planned and promised to be anything like the last month or so. And yet he’d fallen short, living up to the expectations of everyone that told you that he’d not give up the partying.
“Baby please, okay I’m sorry. Please stop.”
Matt stood in front of you, his hands caressing your face as he tried his best to apologize.
“You’re right, I promised this vacation was for us. And I ruined that by getting so drunk. And that joke wasn’t funny, I know you’re just worried about me doing something stupid. Which, I fucked that up. Clearly. But, please don’t be mad at me. Let me fix this!”
You tried your best to keep your stern look and be mad at him, but as he peppered your face with kisses. Moving to your neck before he picked you up and spun you around, earning a laugh from you and knowing he’d won you over.
“See, I knew you couldn’t be mad at me for long!”
Rolling your eyes you kissed him back, running your hands through his curls as you sarcastically smiled up at him.
“Well I’m still mad, but if you promise to not do any more stupid drunk shit like that, maybe I’ll forgive you.”
He nodded his head, stealing another kiss before he started walking towards the water with you in his arms.
“Matthew, what are you doing? This feels like another stupid drunk thing!”
The closer the two of you got to the water the more you fought his grip, knowing he was planning to take you for a swim. Matthew laughed at you as his arms held tighter to you, ready to dunk the two of you into the ocean despite your pleading for him to stop and turn back.
“No, no babe, it’s not I promise. The water will help sober me up quick! But they say night swimming is dangerous alone, I’ve seen plenty of research studies!”
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kindnessoverperfection · 1 year ago
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I want to break down a common point of conflict when addressing NPD stigma.
A lot of hangups people have tend to be along the lines of "but I DO see a lot of people with actual NPD who are acting in toxic or abusive ways".
This will be kind of long, so bear with me.
Point #1: People are way more likely to be diagnosed if they exhibit "stereotypical" symptoms.
There's this image of NPD as a disorder that is only present in those with patterns of destructive behavior towards others. Many therapists have this conception. (Shockingly, the mental health field is not perfect & without stigma.)
Gonna copy-paste this here from my other blog (so forgive me if you've seen it before), because it's a good example.
Three people are criticized at work. Their boss yells at them for their performance in front of everyone. Person A gets mad and defensive. They yell back, using cutting remarks as a way to try and ease the distress they feel. Person B acts really mature and responsible the whole time, nodding along and agreeing and promising to do better, just desperate to maintain and improve their status. Desperate to be liked. Later they go home and handle their distress through self-destructive means, and spend the next few months overworking themself to the point of illness. Person C doesn't seem to respond much at all. They go quiet and seem distant. They don't lash out or lash in, but for the next month or so, their productivity drops. They simply aren't able to focus on work or self-care, no matter how hard they try. The stress is overwhelming. All three of these people have the same root issues, but only the first would be labeled a narcissist. Outwards behaviors and presentations don't reflect the pain, distress, and difficulties with life that are underlying them.
So, three main things happen.
There ends up being a higher rate of people with destructive behaviors who are diagnosed with NPD
The people who don't particularly exhibit behaviors and are considered ""too nice to have it"" are overlooked entirely (and never get any sort of help for their underlying issues, yayyy)
People are more likely to be more honest about "ugly" symptoms / symptoms that are frowned down upon than they are in other mental health communities.
(Also some people decide to act super edgy about it, which is annoying but here we are. Some of them are trolls.)
(And while I'm at it, some people are misdiagnosed with NPD because a psych sees someone who committed a violent crime and is like "uhh slap them with the Evil Asshole™ disorders!! no further thought given.")
Point #2: People who have messed up are not inhuman monsters who deserve no help or support
While I do think it's important for people to understand that patterns of toxic behaviors aren't the ONLY way NPD can present, I'm not going to let the conversation stop at "some of us are nice though!!"
Human beings aren't RPG characters who can be sorted into "monster" or "ally". Every single person has done something hurtful, has messed up, exhibits some sort of behavior that puts strain on their relationships sometimes.
So I'll bullet point some aspects of this that need to be talked about.
People without NPD also commonly exhibit toxic behaviors, but people ignore that nowadays. Either they armchair diagnose anyone who's slightly rude, or they only focus on it in pwNPD and ignore it in themselves or others. NTs can be jerks too, and they're probably less likely to acknowledge it than pwNPD who are constantly watching and checking themselves and analyzing their behaviors and attempting to do better.
Assuming that NPD makes someone abusive doesn't help anyone. Can it impact behaviors, and make it more difficult for people to be self-aware? Of course. But an important step in healing from any mental health condition (especially personality disorders, ime) is realizing that you're not inherently ""bad"", and that you can take responsibility for your actions and learn to deal with things in constructive ways. Just going "NPD makes people bad, full stop"- other than being a mean shitty thing to say- absolves people of guilt and asserts that there's no reason for them to try and improve.
Yes, it's okay for people to hate their abusers. Their abuser. Not an entire community of people who happen to (maybe) share a trait with them.
Building on the above point, people tend to go in defense mode when they hear things like "pwNPD who have acted in toxic ways can learn to improve their behavior", "people shouldn't be saying awful things about folks with this condition", etc. because they automatically try to apply this to their abuser. Interpersonal situations are very different from society-wide mental health access. No, don't stay with your abuser expecting them to change, and don't hold onto the hope that they will. No, don't censor yourself or your hatred or anger towards them. Just don't make blanket statements about a disorder that they may or may not have- blame their abusive actions, not their mental health.
"I hate you for your abusive actions and the harm that you caused me." =/= "I hate a group of people because of an inherent unchangeable part of them that's tied directly to severe childhood trauma they suffered. Because of it, they're evil and unlovable and are incapable of change. They're inhuman and will never experience real connection with others." ..........See the difference??
Even if there were a disorder with a 100% rate of toxic douchey behaviors, I'd want the conversation around it to be changed. I'd want different words to be used to divide up the spaces and conversations and resources, so that survivors of abusive or toxic behavior can get help, but that the disorder still has space to be treated. Otherwise, there are zero resources for healing. Nothing is being done to help these people or solve the issue. They're just told they may as well not try. They're blocked from healthcare entirely, despite how the entire point of being diagnosed with a condition is supposed to be to treat it.
There's a wide range of people who have NPD- it presents in many different ways, a person who has it may or may not exhibit harmful behaviors- but no one deserves to be denied treatment or told they're unlovable because of a condition they have that was formed from trauma.
Speak out against abusive behavior. Don't destroy healthcare for a medical condition.
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miss-musings · 5 months ago
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Crosshair's 10 Most Impressive Shots in "Star Wars: The Bad Batch"
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We're now officially three weeks removed from the series finale, so I thought it'd be a fun time to look back at our favorite sniper and review some of his most impressive shots.
Note, I'll be ranking items from "The Bad Batch" TV show only, so there won't be any entries from "The Clone Wars" S7.
I did get a lot of input from folks here and on Twitter, and a lot of people ended up saying the same ones. I put them on here along with a few of my own.
As for how I determined the order, I judged based on a combination of: the distance of the shot, the size of the target, the speed of the target (if applicable), other external factors like light conditions and weather, and "internal" factors like Crosshair's physical and mental state.
You're free to disagree with which ones I picked and how I ordered them. It's all subjective.
Also, I don't proclaim to be an expert in marksmanship nor am I a military sniper. But, I do have a general baseline for how difficult Crosshair's shots would be IRL. I used to go shooting with my dad a lot at both indoor and outdoor ranges, and I was pretty decent at both pistol- and rifle-shooting. So, that's what I'm using to judge Crosshair's shots.
With that out of the way, let's dive in with #10:
10. Killing Lt. Nolan in 2.12 "The Outpost"
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I probably wouldn't have put this one on the list for myself, but I had multiple people suggest it should make the cut.
While this shot is very important narratively, it's not very impressive from a purely technical perspective.
I mean, hitting a relatively stationary human-sized target from a few meters away... It's definitely not the most impressive shot on Crosshair's resume.
However, I did feel it was worth adding to the list for the simple fact that Crosshair is physically exhausted and mentally broken in this scene. He basically uses the last of his strength to kill Lt. Nolan, because he immediately collapses right afterward.
Also, Crosshair might be right-handed, but he's pretty good at shooting his pistol leftie. We don't really see the shot hit Nolan, but if you zoom in after his body hits the ground, you can see that Crosshair shot him straight through the heart. He wasn't leaving that bastard alive after everything he and Mayday went through.
9. Lunch tray ricochet in 1.01 "Aftermath"
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Even though this isn't a shot in the traditional sense -- considering there aren't any firearms involved -- I had to put this on the list for two reasons.
One, I had multiple people suggest it; and two, because I've watched this scene dozens of times and only recently found out that Crosshair actually hits two clones with his lunch tray.
He initially throws it at the clone Tech was fighting, presumably knocking him down. But then it ricochets so hard that it basically clotheslines another clone who's just standing there, minding his own business. Dude was hit so hard, he was like floating in midair for a split second.
Also, this plays into my headcanon that Crosshair would be excellent at any sports that require excellent aim and coordination. If he was on a basketball team, he'd be a three-point specialist for sure!!
8. Plan 55 ricochet in 3.12 "Juggernaut"
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This is the closest thing we get to a trickshot in S3, so I had to include it on the list.
Here, we see Crosshair's quick-thinking and perfect aim take out several troopers at once by purposely ricocheting his shot off the magnetically sealed doors.
As we know from “A New Hope,” magnetically sealed doors/surfaces are no joke. You really have to know what you're doing or someone's gonna get hurt. Thankfully, Crosshair is a freakin' pro at this!
It honestly reminds me of all those crazy pool shots where you have to plan out four or five bounces/angles ahead to get the angle you really want.
7. Downing a spaceship on Ryloth in 1.11 "Devil's Deal"
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NOTE: This is the only clip I couldn't readily find on YT. So I included the clip of Crosshair killing Orn Free Taa from the same episode to maintain symmetry in this Top 10 list.
Don't let the clip fool you. The shot I'm actually talking about takes place before this, when Crosshair -- from like 300 meters away, mind you -- takes down a fast-moving ship by shooting one of the engines.
Look, I love S3 Crosshair with all my heart, but his shooting abilities were severely diminished after his time on Tantiss. When I was doing my S1 rewatch and got to this scene in 1.11, I was like "Oh yeah, I forgot Crosshair used to be able pull off crazy shit like this."
It's actually sad how many of his made shots in 1.11 are like an inverse of his missed shots in 3.11. Here, Crosshair easily shoots a tracker onto Hera & company's ship, and later shoots the engine with no problem, despite the speed and distance.
In 3.11, though, he misses CX-2's ship and fails to track Omega back to Tantiss. 😭
6. Shooting Wrecker's knife in 1.01 "Aftermath"
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Now we're getting into the really impressive shit! Most of these remaining entries have Crosshair shooting small targets and/or fast-moving ones.
In this instance, it's both. Wrecker throws the knife like this is skeet-shooting or something, and Crosshair just very casually shoots it into a droid.
Have you ever seen someone who was so good at their job/hobby that they make it look effortless? Like they're not even trying? This happens to me sometimes when I watch the Olympics. I'm like, "That's not so hard. I could probably do that." And then I try it for like half a second, and I'm like, "Oh no, those people are insane."
That's how good S1-2 Crosshair is. He makes shooting a fast-moving knife look effortless.
5. His four-kill trickshot in 1.15 "Return to Kamino"
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These next three are all no-brainer entries. I think the biggest question will be why I went with the order I did.
Here, we have Crosshair displaying two very important elements of marksmanship/sniping: patience and careful aim.
Crosshair evidently set up at least four mirrors (I counted the ricochets in the shot) well in advance in the exact spots he needed to take down his Imperial squad, if need be. That's some serious foresight and preparation -- to know exactly where everyone would be standing, and have all the mirrors ready to go ahead of time.
He must've set them up even before he brought Hunter into the training room, or Hunter would've seen them and probably signaled his teammates.
He's also hitting a target that seems to be somewhere between the size of a golf ball and baseball from like 10-20 meters. And with his sidearm.
I know everyone loves the hallway mirror ricochet to kill the squadron of battle droids in TCW Season 7, but it didn't qualify. But, honestly, I think this one is more impressive anyway. He hit the first 1.15 mirror from farther away than he does in TCW S7, and he's using his pistol in 1.15 rather than his rifle and scope.
Talk about accuracy!
4. Sniping the tank in 2.03 "The Solitary Clone"
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Oh man! I think we all love this one, right? It's just one of my favorite sequences in the entire show -- the framing, the colors, the effects of the dirt flying up behind him.
I love how Crosshair baits the droids to get the exact angle he needs, and the dude clearly has nerves of steel for staring down the barrel of a tank without flinching. I wonder how many times he's done it, considering he seemed to know exactly how to beat them. I'm guessing at least a dozen.
This is another example of "expert making their expertise look effortless," when in reality, we'd all shit ourselves if we attempted to do the same.
Honestly, sometimes I wish we could've had this version of Crosshair face off against Hemlock in 3.15 -- the dude who stared down the barrel of a tank and didn't flinch at the most literal version of "kill or be killed."
3. Stairwell trickshot in 2.03 "The Solitary Clone"
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While I love the tank sequence more for the aesthetics, I have to rank the 2.03 stairwell trickshot above it.
That's partly because Crosshair's still physically and mentally recovering from nearly getting choked to death. But, it's also partly because -- just like with Wrecker's knife -- Crosshair is shooting a target that someone else is throwing.
That means he has to adjust to whatever trajectory and speed they throw it at and compensate accordingly, which can understandably be very hard to do in a split-second.
And, in this situation, Crosshair can't even see the puck directly. He's looking at it through at least one or two layers of reflective mirrors. Dude's reaction time is insane!
He also manages to take down at least four or five droids with a single shot, including the tactical droid, which is several meters up the stairwell and into the next room.
I'm not sure if the clones learned any advanced mathematics during their training on Kamino. But if they did, I think Crosshair would've loved geometry and maybe trigonometry too! He would also absolutely kill in a game of pool. I wanna see him go to the SW equivalent of a pool hall, and show Omega that he can hustle people too! He just needed to find a game that would better suit his strengths. LOL
Anyway, as insane as this shot is, Crosshair has two others on his resume that are even more impressive:
2. Saving Omega & AZI in 1.16 "Kamino Lost"
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This is one of three entries on this list that *no one* mentioned when I asked for suggestions, but I had to include it. That's because it is -- without a doubt -- the most bafflingly impressive shot Crosshair makes in the entire show.
I have watched this scene dozens of times, and I still have no idea how he knows where Omega and AZI are.
Initially, I thought -- as others did -- that he's using an infrared scope to see their body heat in the water. But, that doesn't appear to be the case.
The only times I can recall Crosshair activating an infrared capability is when he has his rangefinder, which is attached to his helmet. As we see in episodes like 1.01 "Aftermath" and in 3.07 "Extraction," he specifically has to put the rangefinder down in front of his eye to use the infrared option.
No, his scope is just that -- a regular scope. The infrared capability is only attached to his helmet's rangefinder, which he doesn't have in this scene.
Thus, I have no idea how Crosshair is using a regular-ass scope to find Omega and AZI in the dark ocean. The point of a scope is to see better, and I don't know what he might see beside more darkness. AZI's eyes aren't active and, even if Crosshair spots Omega's flashlight, Omega dropped it when she went after AZI, so it's not exactly on her.
I'm willing to believe that Crosshair has better eyesight than the average human in the Star Wars universe or IRL, but his eyesight must be insane if he can see them in the water, even with a scope.
But, whether it's eyesight, some other enhanced sense or just plain luck, Crosshair knows where in the vast, dark ocean they are — not just the angle but the depth too!
It's really hard to tell how far down they are, but I'd say at least 20 meters. And if he is able to see them somehow, he might have to adjust the shot for refraction in the water too.
Plus, unlike the other entries on this list, Crosshair isn't shooting a blaster bolt. He's shooting a cable, meaning he'd have to adjust his shot to accommodate its weight and trajectory once it hits the water. Additionally, with how Omega and AZI are situated, he needs to have the cable hit and latch onto AZI, without hitting Omega in the process, and get the exact angle needed to drag both of them to the surface.
Like I said: I have absolutely no idea how he made this shot. It's definitely the most impressive one he makes in the entire show based solely on external technical factors.
But of course, there is a parallel shot later in the series that's his most impressive one of all...
1. Freeing Omega in 3.15 "The Cavalry Has Arrived"
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I will never shut up about this scene. It's been living in my head rent-free for three weeks already, and will continue to for several months.
This is undoubtedly the most important shot in Crosshair's life: the shot to save his kid and free his family from Hemlock once and for all.
And everything is working against him: It's dark. It's raining. Omega and Hemlock are like ~40 meters away. The target is the binders between their hands, which is like 3-5 centimeters wide, and won't exactly be stationary. Oh, he's using CX-2's stolen blaster, which doesn't even have a scope on it!!!
We the audience get a POV of what Crosshair sees from over his shoulder, and I can barely see Omega's face, let alone her hands!! I said in the previous entry that Crosshair's eyesight has to be better than the average person's because, holy hell, how can he see that?!?
And, even worse, Crosshair is physically and mentally spent in this scene. He had to return to his own personal hell -- the place where he was tortured and traumatized for months -- then got beaten in a fight and had his dominant hand chopped off.
He and Hunter are running on pure adrenaline at this point. They are absolutely hellbent on getting their kid back, even if they die or collapse in the process. They were practically hobbling out of the CX lab together, and when they crouch down on the bridge, Crosshair has to steady himself against Hunter because he doesn't have his other hand.
And, as the final cherry on top of this proverbially shitty sundae, Crosshair absolutely terrified of missing.
A few episodes ago, the guy couldn't hit stationary fruit from like ~15 meters away with a scope in daylight and in a controlled environment. He even tells Omega: "Close doesn't count. It's either a hit or a miss." Because in a high-stakes situation like this, missing your shot could mean death for you or someone else.
Crosshair already feels like he failed Omega because he missed the shot on Pabu. And now, he has to make an even tougher one with every disadvantage stacked against him and her life literally in his hand.
I don't blame the guy for doubting himself.
Thankfully, Hunter and Omega have complete faith in him, and despite everything he's been through in S3, he has faith in himself.
And so, in the shot to end all shots in "The Bad Batch," Crosshair hits his target and frees Omega.
He and Hunter then subsequently turn Hemlock into Swiss cheese before Omega gives Crosshair a much-needed hug, causing me to cry for the 100th time.
I'll admit: as much as I would've loved seeing another mirror trickshot or some other crazy ricochet in the finale (or just S3 in general), this scene is basically perfect.
It also makes for a nice little parallel to the S1 finale, where Crosshair saved Omega's life after she saved his. Here, as he says himself, he goes back to Tantiss to free her because she freed him first.
As someone said on Twitter when I asked for ideas about this list:
"(Crosshair) put his whole heart and soul in this shot, and he didn't miss. He couldn't afford to."
Like I said: this was the shot that freed the entire Bad Batch family from Hemlock forever. So, I think by default, it had to be No. 1 on this list.
*******
Anyway, thanks for reading! It'd be fun to put together another TBB list like this. I guess I'll have to pick a subject first, though, because I don't have any ideas. If you have any, send them my way!
(EDIT: For anyone who’s also on Twitter, give me a follow. @CatchingClassic )
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janesgms · 2 years ago
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Astro notes - 03
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Having three or more planets in the 10th house or in the 10°/22° degrees (in the natal chart and persona charts) means you'll be sucessful in life and will achieve your desired job (or at least a dignified job), now, the way you will achieve it will depend on the planets and its aspects.
Also, having juno in the 10th house is a huge indicator of having a spouse who's gonna be successful in life, you'll be on the same page regarding your career life
Having the asteroids angel (11911) and angelou (9011) in aquarius degrees (11° and 23°) means your guardian angel and spiritual guides communicate to you through angel numbers, (specially 111/1111), equal hours, butterflies (specially white ones), repetition of specific names and number patterns on the internet... Also, have you realized both of these have 11 in their codes? This is too much of a coincidence lol
Juno (3) conjunctions in your chart means which characteristics your spouse will have. Having angel conjunct juno means you'll have a very intuitive/spiritual spouse. Having psyche (16) conjunct juno means you'll have an intelligent spouse. Juno conjunct ceres means you will have a nurturing spouse. Juno conjunct pallas means you'll have a straight forward spouse. etc
Boda (1487) conjunctions will indicate how your marriage may be and how you'll act towards it. Having boda conjunct moon means you will have an emotional marriage and you'll probably cry at it. Having boda conjunct pluto means you will have an intense, mysteryous and secluded marriage. Having boda conjunct vesta means you will be very devoted to your marriage.
Vesta conjunctions mean what you will devote to. Saturn conjunct vesta in synastry indicates both will be loyal and devoted at each other, marriage indicator.
Having kiss conjunct/sextile lilith in natal means you're a sensual kisser, and you put everyone under a spell with your kisses (good kisser in general)
I have a theory that the asteroid atlantis (1198) means what's repressed inside us that need to be worked on, also represents what's hidden in us even to ourselves sometimes. for ex: having atlantis on the 12° and conjuncting neptune can mean your dreams are repressed and you can't remember them clearly, but they feel like they're important, or, when you remember them, they're more of a nightmare than a dream, with disturbing feelings regarding them, this also can indicate having premonitory dreams
Having pluto, neptune or uranus in the 6th house is a very difficult aspect to have, because you deal with these issues daily in your life and you literally can't run away from them. Neptune in the 6th can indicate being prone to addictions and sleep problems (insomnia or sleeping too much), pluto in the 6th can indicate self destructing and obsessive tendencies, uranus in the 6th can indicate having a turbulent life in general, and all of these can happen daily and even in your work place.
Now I'm gonna expose the big 6 of the worst person I could ever meet: sun (7h) and mercury (6h) in taurus, leo moon (10h), gemini venus (7h), pisces mars conjunct uranus (4h) and scorpio rising (I can't believe the audacity this b* had to have the same moon & rising as lana del rey, you don't deserve it!!!!!!)
The 5th house can also indicate how you love, so having a 5th house in scorpio or capricorn is difficult because these people tend to try to repress their feelings and have a blockage when trying to speak with their crush (specially capricorn, scorpio do it more in a way to hide it) but both are very afraid of rejection and they feel uncomfortable opening their hearts to someone they like
I think the planet jupiter and jupiterians in general are very underappreciated in the astro community, I mean, yes, jupiter brings luck and all of this, but it's also much more than that, It's literally the planet that represents the god of the gods, let's talk about how much power these people can have, and not just about limiting stereotypes (specially with sagittarius 😹).
This also applies with neptune, people forget how important neptune is/was in the mythology, being the second more powerful, behind Zeus only. I'm not gonna say pluto is underappreciated because everyone talks about its power (which is also true, let's be real lol), but both pluto, neptune and jupiter, being represented by the big 3 in greek mythology, can have an impactant power, if they learn how to use it 🤌
I think the hour and day you were born can also determine your general vibe that people mistake with your ascendant. For example: I know someone who was born day 6 at 6:47 am and I was sure he was a virgo rising but it turns out he is actually a cancer rising, but until this date I find really impressive how much virgo energy he has even though he doesn't have any virgo placement...
Here's the truth about scorpio men: they can be the ugliest little shits on earth but they will still have thousand women behind them because they have a different kind of magnetic pull to them, they're like a black hole and a lot of women fall easily into their trap 😭 #savethearthfromscorpiomenasap
You'll probably have on one of your persona charts (big 6) the natal ascendant of your dad and your mom. For ex: My mom is a cancer rising and my dad is a scorpio rising, I have cancer rising in my mercury persona chart and scorpio rising in my mars persona chart
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This one was a little shorter but now i'll be working on full posts with more certain and organized informations!!!
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steddieas-shegoes · 7 months ago
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if you want to use me, i could be your puppet
for @subeddieweek day four with the prompt edging
rated e | 2,505 words | please check ao3 for tags
Day one:  ao3 | tumblr Day two: ao3 | tumblr Day three: ao3 | tumblr
⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕
Eddie didn’t think this through.
Running from Steve’s bedroom, naked, meant he would have to find a hiding place.
He did not want to have to deal with this right now.
He didn’t need Steve seeing the way Eddie’s feelings would no doubt show on his face, how he’d be quick to brush off Steve’s apology.
How quickly he’d agree to continuing what they’re doing so he had something rather than nothing at all.
The house was quiet, dark, a reminder of how lonely Steve probably was when he wasn’t busy with the kids or Robin or him. No wonder he was always so quick to jump in bed with Eddie; He wanted a warm body to keep him company.
“Eddie! Wait!” Steve’s voice came from the top of the stairs, but Eddie didn’t turn.
Maybe if he locked himself in the downstairs bathroom, Steve would give up and he could sneak out to his van wrapped in a towel or something. He’d done worse.
Unfortunately, Steve was much faster than him, probably due to the whole jock thing. Eddie had no chance.
Steve’s hand burned where it touched Eddie’s arm, trying to make him turn around and face him.
“Please, Eds. Please look at me. Let me-”
“I don’t want you to explain, Steve.” Eddie turned to him, suddenly angry. How dare he ruin what they were doing? How dare he take something that was so precious and send it careening off the road so quickly? “I want to pretend it never happened. I want to go back to letting you touch me and kiss me and hurt me just right. I want to know you don’t mean it.”
“Why?” Steve sounded angry. “Why would you want that? Is it that bad? What is it about me loving someone that makes them wanna run in any other fucking direction than to me?”
And Eddie wasn’t really prepared for that.
He didn’t really know exactly what happened with Nancy or any of the other girls Steve had been with in high school. He didn’t really know much about any of his casual hookups. He just knew that Steve gave so much to anyone he cared about, and many people took more than was fair of him to give.
“Why can’t I love you, Eddie?”
Eddie looked at Steve, really looked at him.
His eyes were watery, red-rimmed as if he was doing everything he could to resist letting the tears fall. Eddie could see his flush cheeks, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he tried to hold back a sob. His hands shook.
Eddie recognized this for what it actually was. Sure it was emotion, and maybe Steve felt it was genuine emotional turmoil.
But it was also the start of a panic attack, one that would quickly escalate to something Eddie wasn’t sure he could help Steve through.
“Steve, hey-”
“Don’t fuckin’ pacify me, man.” Steve’s breathing picked up and Eddie had to shut this down. “I can be upset.”
“Yes, you absolutely can. I’m not gonna tell you how to feel, but you definitely need to breathe, nice and slow.” Eddie put his hand on Steve’s bare chest, forgetting for a moment that they were both still naked, both still sweaty and sticky from everything they did in Steve’s bed.
“I am breathing.”
“You’re panting. You need to sit down.”
“I’m not sitting down-”
“Red.”
Steve froze.
Eddie immediately regretted saying it, hated that he was using this in a situation outside of their agreement.
He just needed Steve to stop and take care of himself for a second.
“That’s not fair,” Steve’s voice was shaky, unsure. He’d never heard it like that, not even when they first started this, not when they discussed the difficult things.
“It may not be fair, but neither is what you said.” Eddie looked behind him at the couch, the same couch Steve had held his hand while they talked about what they’d be into trying together. “Can we sit?”
“I dunno, are you gonna run again?” Steve crossed his arms over his chest, which would be a hilarious image any other time, but was currently just really sad.
“No. I’m not gonna leave.”
“Yet.”
“Yet,” Eddie agreed.
They both sat down on the couch, shifting until there was enough distance not to touch, facing each other.
Steve threw the blanket over their laps to at least make an attempt at being serious.
“I’m sorry I said it like that.” Steve sighed as he put his head back against the couch. At least he seemed to be holding himself together better now. Maybe Eddie could have a turn at a breakdown. “I shouldn’t have said it when we were still…”
“You shouldn’t have said it at all, Steve.” Eddie watched as Steve ground his teeth together. “I know you may think that’s what you’re feeling, but you were on a sex high.”
“I can see why you’d think that,” Steve sounded like he was doing his best to stay calm. “That’s why I shouldn’t have said it then. But I did mean it. That hasn’t changed and it won’t change.”
“Steve, be serious.”
“I am! I need you to be serious! I love you. I’ve loved you for long enough to know that’s what it is.” Steve turned his head and gave him a sad smile. “I know it wasn’t supposed to happen, and I know you don’t feel the same, but I’m glad I said it, even if it wasn’t how I planned to.”
Eddie had to remind himself to breathe as Steve’s words sank into his brain, consumed his chest and stomach, made the nerves in his body spark with a combination of hope and fear.
“How long?” Eddie squeaked out.
“You remember that night when we talked about our limits?” Steve grinned.
“That was…so long ago. What the hell?” Eddie slapped Steve’s knee, but didn’t pull it away fast enough. Steve’s hand grabbed his. “We’ve been around each other almost every day since then.”
“And I thought about it every day,” Steve admitted. “I was gonna ask you on a date first and make it a big romantic thing. I had a plan.”
“Steve, I-” Eddie shook his head. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to say these things to me to keep me around. I mean, it’s not like anyone’s lining up at my door. I wouldn’t trust anyone the way I trust you with all this. I kinda figured you’d be the one to call it off soon.”
Steve moved the blanket for a moment, tugged Eddie into his lap, and tilted his head to the side.
“I’m not going anywhere, Eds. You’ve got me and I’ve got you.”
How did he do that? How did he sound so sincere, so charming, after such an emotional admission?
“You’ve got me?”
“I’ve got you,” Steve surged forward, lips crashing against Eddie’s as his hands left bruises on his hips.
Eddie would be an idiot to let him go.
He would have to trust that Steve meant it, and he’d have to trust that his heart would be safe in Steve’s hands.
He already trusted him with everything else.
The blanket that had barely been around his waist slipped, half pooling on the couch next to them and half falling to the floor.
Steve pulled away, breathless.
“Will you?” He asked.
Eddie had no idea what he was actually asking. “Will I…?”
“Go on a date with me.”
“Yeah, Stevie. I’ll go on a date with you. You’re buying, though,” Eddie winked.
“Of course,” Steve nodded, leaning up to peck him on the lips. “I was thinking about a road trip. Heard there’s a new record shop opening in Bloomington if you wanted to check it out.”
“Fuck, you really do love me, don’t you? You know I could spend hours in there, right?” Eddie’s heart couldn’t handle the soft look in Steve’s eyes.
“Yeah, I’ll bring a cooler with drinks and snacks. It’ll be fun,” Steve shrugged.
Eddie inched back the tiniest bit and was suddenly reminded that they were very naked. And Steve was getting hard again.
“You know…this house is kinda quiet. Maybe we could…”
“Oh, you wanna be loud?” Steve raised his brow. “Hm. I guess I should give you a reason to be.”
The tone was different, not quite his usual teasing demand, but something that left Eddie wanting.
“Please. God, Steve, I need it, need you,” Eddie had no idea where this begging came from, or why he suddenly felt like he would die without Steve’s hands on him.
“I know what you need, baby,” Steve kissed his jaw, soft for what Eddie knew was coming. “But I need you to tell me your color first.”
“Green, so green.”
“Hey.” There was the demanding tone. “Look at me.”
Eddie had no choice but to look.
“I need you to think about it. Don’t think about how desperate you are. Are you okay with everything we talked about? Are you okay with me loving you?”
Eddie thought about it. Was he actually okay with their short conversation, the feelings Steve admitted to, what that would mean going forward for them? Or was he desperate in more ways than one?
No, no he definitely was okay with this. He’d been so worried that his feelings would never be returned, that he’d be in an endless loop of unrequited love, that he’d do what Steve did and let it slip while he was in space.
Having the guy he loved love him back was a best case scenario for him.
“Green.”
Steve’s lips were back on his, hungry, rough, almost more than Eddie was prepared for, but it wasn’t unwelcome. He sunk into the feeling, let himself drift into Steve physically so he could carry him away mentally.
“Wanna get my fingers in you. Think you can handle just spit?” Steve said as he nipped at Eddie’s neck, leaving red, leaving teeth marks. Eddie wished they could be permanent. Maybe he’d get them tattooed.
“Mhm, please,” Eddie nodded, ignoring the tiny part of his brain that was telling him to be responsible and get the lube. He’d be sore if they didn’t.
The louder part of his brain didn’t care about that, wanted to be sore. He could feel good now and deal with the limp tomorrow.
Steve’s fingers ghosted over Eddie’s lips, pressing down until his mouth opened. He sucked them in, three of them, moaning around them as he made sure they were slick enough to get inside with little resistance.
They were both impatient.
Steve pulled his fingers from Eddie’s mouth only a few seconds later, gently patting his cheek with his other hand when he whined at the loss.
“You’ll have me inside you again, baby.”
Steve didn’t waste another second.
His wet fingers rubbed against Eddie’s entrance, fingertips teasing along his rim and just barely pushing inside one at a time.
It was too much, not nearly enough, and almost exactly what Eddie needed all at once.
He was so close already, teetering on the edge of coming without a hand on him or fingers actually inside him, and it would probably be embarrassing if Eddie could think about a single thing that wasn’t the way heat was pooling in his stomach and chest.
“Close,” Eddie whimpered, bucking up against nothing as if that was even necessary.
Steve’s hands were gone. Just like that. No warning at all.
Eddie whimpered again, reaching his hands out to touch, to beg, to do whatever would get Steve’s hands back on him and finish the job he started.
“No, baby,” Steve said, shaking his head. “Not yet.”
And so it went.
Steve got a finger inside him, barely thrusting it in and out before removing it completely when Eddie would start rocking back into the touch.
Then there were two fingers, and Eddie could just barely feel the pressure against his prostate, begging for more or less or something that would be different from the current hanging by a thread he was doing.
He could feel himself drifting, knew he was mentally checking out from what was happening, but he could still hear Steve’s rough voice soothing him, guiding him.
Three fingers pressed inside him, slower than before, stretching him in a way he never could himself.
He felt full, used.
“Color, sweet boy,” Steve said from somewhere in front of him. Eddie was having trouble centering himself, couldn’t quite figure out where he was physically even though he knew he was with Steve.
The fingers inside him stilled, not working him open further or pushing and pulling until Eddie was naturally rocking back and forth.
Steve needed an answer. Eddie had to give him one.
“Green.”
“Good boy,” Steve praised.
Eddie pretended that didn’t make his heart flip-flop in his chest, but something must have given him away anyway. Steve was grinning at him knowingly, though he didn’t say anything.
“You’re gonna come when I tell you, right? Not a second earlier than that.”
At this point, Eddie was pretty sure Steve was in complete control of his body. He was simply the puppet on Steve’s strings.
“Answer me, Eddie.” Steve pushed against his prostate, making his body shiver and cock twitch.
“Only when you say,” Eddie gasped out, lifting his hips to pull away from the overstimulation, but immediately falling back down when he missed it. “Wanna be good for you.”
Steve groaned, and his fingers pushed in and out of Eddie faster.
He wanted to be good, but he was only human.
“St-” Eddie moaned. “-eve. Can’t-”
“‘S okay, baby. You can come now.”
And Eddie did.
Just like that.
The relief of finally being able to unclench his thighs, to actually feel the last string tethering him to earth snap as his release painted Steve’s stomach.
His fingers slowed, but didn’t leave him, keeping him stretched as he clenched around them during the waves of pleasure still wringing through him. He felt like he’d never stop feeling this deep pulsing, had to try to open his eyes to see if he was still coming somehow.
Steve was murmuring something against his hair.
When had he even fallen against Steve’s chest, face buried in his neck?
How long had he been just whimpering against him like a dog in heat?
“...So good for me, sweet boy. So proud of you for waiting for permission.”
Oh.
Praise like that wasn’t exactly a new part of their aftercare, but it was rare that Steve said it more than once or twice, usually just holding him in his arms in silence while Eddie came back down from the clouds.
He’d think about that later.
For now, he let his body relax, the noises stop, and his breathing slow.
He could sleep in Steve’s arms, feel the love pouring from his words and fingertips, and plant his feet on the ground in the morning.
Day five: ao3 | tumblr
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sadesluvr · 20 days ago
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The Bride — PART THREE.
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PART ONE / PART TWO
A/N: This is so late omg...September was a busy month for me but I promised I wouldn't forget y'all! Sorry for any mistakes <3
Warnings: Smut + Murder. This chapter contains the theme of domestic violence and victim guilt. Please leave a relationship if your partner hits you, it's not okay and will likely escalate to full blown abuse. Skip to the paragraph beginning "All it took was..." if you'd like to avoid this.
Word count: 3.4K
“Jude’s family have a boat. Every morning on his birthday, he takes it out for a drive – early morning when the water’s calmest. No one should be there but him. The bay is a ten-minute drive from here. I’m thinking that I surprise him, get him to drive me a few miles from the shore, then I knock him out with one of those fishing weights.” 
“What if you can’t hit hard enough?” 
“Then you’re gonna have to teach me how to shoot.” 
You’d gone to the dock separately; with the Twins clambering into their rented car whilst you jumped into a discreet bicitaxi, squashed next to a random stranger on a rickety bike. The colourful streets became a blur as you passed them, and you couldn’t help but feel like you were on a horrible, stomach-churning ride, ultimately screaming to yourself to get off. You were scared that it was all going to be over, all so suddenly and unexpectedly on a random trip to Havana. What was life going to be like without Jude? Why had you decided to trust two random British guys to help take care of your domestic dispute? 
What if everything backfired? 
You didn’t feel any better stepping off the bike and onto the brown boards of the bay, eyeing the familiar licence plate of the rows of white yachts, tourist boats, and fishermen, making the occasional glance down at the deep blue waters below. Rippling; uneasy...the literal unknown. 
Other than a few locals fishing, it was rather quiet. At least until you heard the Twins’ hurried footsteps; with Tangerine’s dress shoes clicking against the ground. Even though they were slated to be ‘professionals’, the moustached man seemed eerily panicked; finding it difficult to walk straight as he constantly fumbled with the gun under his jacket. From the 24 hours or so you’d spent with him you knew he was rather erratic but had never expected him to be so rattled by the situation.  
“Morning darl’,” Lemon said, briefly nodding his head at you. “Looks like today’s the big day. Give ‘em hell, would ya?” 
“I’ll try,” you grinned, chuckling half-heartedly as you swallowed deeply, trying to hold back last nights’ meal. “You should hide in the wine cellar. It might be a little cramped, but it beats the downstairs.” 
Lemon silently raised his brows, patting your shoulder before he scurried onto the boat, desperate not to be seen, and leaving you alone with Tangerine on the dock. He was handsome of course, but there was something rather striking about the way the blue of his eyes sparkled in the morning sunrise, casting a pinkish-golden hue on his skin. Maybe you were still partially hungover, or perhaps it was just plain old lust, but you felt your heart skip a beat as he walked up to you, staring at you intently. 
“You should probably go inside. Jude could show up any moment now.” 
“Yeah, yeah, I will in a minute,” he said, brushing you off as his jaw clenched. “You got everythin’?” 
“Don’t I always?” You snorted. “Why’re you asking? Are you worried about me?” 
“Nah, I’m just making sure you’re prepared, init?” Tangerine sniffed, briefly diverting his gaze. “This ain’t no movie, alright? I know you’re a right little spitfire n’ all, but you ain’t never seen a dead body. You haven’t gotten your hands dirty like we have.” 
It was true. All your work had been purely operative; sneaky and based on mind games – this was the real deal.  Rubbing your temples, you sighed before looking up at him. 
“I’ll get out of this, ok? I always do. I’ll use the residuals for a therapist or something.” You laughed, but Tangerine didn’t share your smile, instead rolling his eyes and swiping at his moustache. 
“Just — We’re on deck if you need anythin’ alright?” 
You nodded, taking note of the grave look Tangerine flashed you before climbing onto the boat in search of his brother. Sighing, you nervously glanced around at the bay before following them, the spare gun in the garter under your dress brushing against your leg as your lifted it; a reminder of your final option. This was real, and you weren’t going to be able to take it back. 
It was a few minutes before you heard commotion on the back of the boat, with Jude’s loafers making a slight squeaking sound as they approached the bottom deck. He recoiled slightly upon seeing you, a mimosa in either hand, wearing a big smile and his grandmother’s pearls. 
“Happy birthday,” you grinned. “Thought I’d surprise you.” 
“Fuck…” Jude said under his breath, shaking his head. He walked over and took the glass from your hands, raising his eyebrows as his way of saying thanks.  
“That’s my wife, always surprising me…” he said sarcastically before taking a sip. “Why are you here? You never get up before 7.” 
“Can’t I do something nice for you?” You scoffed. “You’re thirty now. It’s a new start.” 
“Don’t remind me…” he sighed. “You know when my father was this age he’d already had three children?” 
You snickered into your glass. 
“You’ve never expressed an interest.” 
“Just saying,” he shrugged, glancing around the deck suspiciously before taking another sip. “Maybe if you weren’t away all the time, we’d would’ve been able to start a family.” 
Shutting your eyes, you shrugged, brushing off one of the many gaslighted statements Jude had given to you over the years of your marriage. It wasn’t anything new of course, but it still agitated you; hurt you, even, but you managed to find a way to regain your composure. 
Just hang in there a little longer. 
“Start the engine already. We can talk about this after.” 
 Jude rolled his eyes and marched back up onto the top deck. Your gaze was fixated blankly on the narrow staircase, listening to the scraping sounds of equipment being moved about and eventually the boat leaving the harbour; the clanging of metal chains reading as an omen. It was all painfully metaphoric; and you wondered whether you really wanted to go through with this. 
After all, he was thirty now, and that usually meant a new beginning. He was annoyed at your presence, yes; that was a given, but you were beginning to consider that maybe, just maybe, he’d change.  Kids had never been in the picture until now, and you took that as a sign that maybe he was having an epiphany too. It was unfathomable to you that the past seven years of your life had been an entire waste, that there was no reward for what you’d endured whatsoever.  
Forget the Twins; this was about you. You knew Jude, and they didn’t. 
You could make this work. 
Eventually, Jude put the engine on pause, and you were left bobbing on the water, roughly fifteen minutes from shore. You raised a brow as he came down, a strange sense of dread wiping over you as he poured himself a glass of whiskey. Fuck the plan; if you didn’t off him, you were certain that drinking an operating a boat would do the trick. 
“If you’re serious about kids, then maybe we could start fresh?” You questioned; your voice noticeably soft as you fiddled with your necklace. 
“Yeah, right.” He snorted, barely bothering to look up. 
“I’m serious, Jude,” you continued, sitting up in your seat. “You’re thirty, I’m two years away from that…We’re not getting younger and you’re the only love I’ve known. It’s time for us to be adults now.” 
He seemed to freeze at the word ‘love’. Admittedly, it wasn’t a phrase you’d used of late, if ever. Pouting his lip, he turned to face you, eyeing you up and down before he spoke. 
“You serious?” 
“Yes.” You pleaded. You could practically feel your insides turning into yourself, but you continued anyway. “I know about your affairs, and I know that you brought one of them along on this trip. But once we leave here, I’ll forget about it, I swear. We can focus on a family.” 
Jude pursed his lips, rubbing his hand over his mouth pensively. His eyes were like saucers; glassy and round, and you could only decipher that he was feeling guilty. Guilt about the funds, guilt about his infidelity...everything. You felt a tingle in your heart, and in your loins, even. 
“I haven’t fucked you in a while…I was starting to forget what you felt like.” He mused, walking over to you and playing with your necklace, eyes moving down towards your collarbone and exposed décolletage. “Hm. If you’re serious, then we may as well start now…” 
Your brows twitched upwards. The Twins were on the boat, and you were certain that they wouldn’t enjoy such a sordid display; for separate and distinct reasons entirely. Yet, that wasn’t the only thing holding you back. 
You grinned, but it wasn’t because you were happy.  
“Not without getting a test first.” 
Jude visibly recoiled. 
“Excuse me?” 
You shrugged. 
“Don’t play dumb, Jude. It’s only fair that I ask.” 
He slumped his shoulders, a frowny pout wiping across his lips as he tried to wrap his head around the request, as if you’d spoken to him in Klingon. You paid no attention to the erratic bounce of his leg, or the subtle way his jaw ticked – none of it really scared you. Jude was simply being the same person he’d been since the beginning; a whiny manbaby. 
He hadn’t even denied being unfaifthul.  
“Besides, I haven’t been loyal, either.” You finished nonchalantly. 
His movements paused, and he broke his gaze from staring somewhere in the corner of the room. 
“You what?” 
“You had your vices and I had mine. I slept with the concierge a couple of times – we were always safe, but you never know —“  
Before you knew it, there was a sharp jab to your nose, which turned into a burning, and eventually a numbness. The pain began to throb almost immediately, and all you could do was stare wide eyed at the man opposite you – the man you’d once loved – as he resumed what he was doing, casually fixing his watch as if he hadn’t just struck you across the face. 
Panting, your fingers trembled as you braced yourself, expecting droplets of blood. Instead, you were met with a shrug. 
“Oh, come on,” he huffed. “I’m sorry, baby. I just can’t stand the thought of you with another man.” 
You didn’t respond, and he scoffed. 
“It was a mistake – I was just angry. I won’t do it again, and I never will, ok?” 
You remained silent, instead staring blankly as you turned around, with Jude barely casting so much as a glance at you as you disappeared into the bathroom. It was only a few moments before you returned, the trembling hand on your nose replaced with two hands on a gun, one cupping the barrel and the other the trigger. 
“You’re not serious --” 
All it took was two bullets to his chest, the sound of the releasing mechanism ringing out on the boat. It was loud, but knowing you were so many miles off shore you knew that it was ultimately nothing. When the smoke cleared, you were left with a slowly dying body, scarlet circles widening as they seeped through the white material of his polo shirt. His eyes were still open; and inexplicably they looked at you with more emotion then they ever had when he was alive. 
You barely had a moment to yourself when The Twins scrambled out from their hiding spot, with Lemon taking his position next to you; arms folded and a bored expression on his face, and Tangerine on your other side. 
“Are you sure this was your first time firing a gun?” 
“Lemon, this ain’t the fuckin’ time --” 
“I’m just sayin’,” the dark-skinned man said exasperatedly. “She’s bloody good at everything. You sure you ain’t some secret agent, girl?” 
“With all due respect, Lemon, let’s not get on her fuckin’ nerves,” Tangerine continued, holding a hand up as if to slow his brother down. “She’s just killed her bloody husband for God’s sake, that ain’t fuckin’ easy --” 
“She fires better than you.” 
“That ain’t true.”  
“I thought we were supposed to be liftin’ her up?” Lemon continued in disbelief before biting his lip. “I know just the thing. There was an episode of Thomas where --” 
“Finish that sentence and you’ll be on the ground with the bastard.” 
“Easy, let’s not get too hasty,” Lemon replied, eyes wide and lips stretched into a frown, his hands outstretched as if he were surrendering. “All I know is that I ain’t dealin’ with that body o’ his. I don’t like blood.” 
Tangerine merely cocked his head in disbelief. 
“It makes me queasy.” 
The moustached man sighed, shaking his head as he cast his gaze to the ground. Blood was beginning to seep into the fine cracks of the ships, decking, all the while you’d gone missing. Considering there weren’t many places for you to hide, the man correctly assumed that you were up deck, steering the boat aimlessly as they continued to bob along the water, where the cold Atlantic was hitting the warmth of the Gulf of Mexico. The recipe for a perfect storm, yet all was silent. 
“Alright,” the man sniffed, placing his shiny cufflinks in his back pocket and rolling up his sleeves. “I’ll chuck him over. Bring the weights, would ya?” 
‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹ ‧˚
“ ‘Ere ya go.” 
“What’s this?” Lemon replied as he looked down at the pamphlet in his hands. The three of you were cooped up in a shitty motel, practically en-route to leaving the country. Once Jude’s family found out that you were both missing (or that their son was gone and you remained) there was certainly about to be a manhunt. Hell, you might’ve even been a suspect. 
“Just look at it.” 
It didn’t take long for Lemon’s face to light up in recognition as he scanned past the Spanish words and into the corner of the paper to see the image of a train; several to be precise. 
“The only Caribbean country to have railways. Got you a ticket to the museum.” 
Lemon lit up. 
“Well thanks, mate but it’s late at night... I should probably get my jammies on.” 
“Just say Tangerine sent you.” 
“Why do you want me to go now?” 
Tangerine frowned. “I gotta have a word with Y/N.” 
“You can speak to her now, don’t let me stop you --” 
“Jesus Christ, don’t make me have to spell it out for you, Lemon. Her and I got somethin’ goin on, and I think we can --” 
“You wanna sleep with her. Got it.” 
“Lemon --” 
It was almost impossible for him to deny it anymore. Tangerine considered himself a gentleman, but there was something about you that made him think otherwise, particularly the way spots of blood had begun to dry up on your dress. You were tainted, yet not in the borderline sociopathic manner he was. In a sick way, you almost complimented each other. The bride and the groom. 
You hadn’t spoken much since the incident. Granted, it was only a few hours ago, and he figured you were still in a state of shock. He wanted to breach the conversation, but he wasn’t sure how; finding it wholly unfamiliar for him to be outwardly sensitive and considerate. It just wasn’t in his nature. 
“Where’s Lemon?” you spoke suddenly, breaking your aimless gaze from the television. 
“Him? Ah, he’s out.” The man waved off. 
“So late?” you frowned. “He’s probably lonely...He could get hurt!” 
“He’s an assassin, love,” Tangerine said matter of factly. “ ‘An trust me, there’s nothing Lemon loves more than his own company.” 
“Figures,” you shrugged. “You wanna have sex?” 
Tangerine scoffed confidently. “If I shagged you, sweetheart, it wouldn’t be a one-time thing.” 
“Never said it had to be.” 
Before you knew it, your body was on his in the heat of passion, fingers running through his brown locks as his moustache tickled your upper lip. His taste, was very much like the sea; salty, yet airy, almost the very definition of the outside.  even through it all, he was sweet, with the smell of his cologne tantalising your senses even through the stench of death. God, it was so fucked up. 
“You’re perfect, love,” the man cooed through your entanglement. “That bastard didn’t deserve ya.” 
“Easy,” you teased, skilfully sliding your hands down to his belt. “I haven't even taken my clothes off yet.” 
In a rare moment, Tangerine blushed, making up for his vulnerability with a quip. 
“Lippy, are we?” he grinned, blue eyes and white teeth sparkling. “You ain’t gonna have all that chat when I’m finished with ya...” 
He dragged his large hands up the sides of your body, caressing the wides of breasts, tracing down your hips and eventually giving your ass a firm grope as you played with his erection through his pants.  For a bunch of grown adults, you were behaving like a couple of teenagers, fooling around in the backseat of a car after prom. His grunts and breath quickened as you finally undid his zipper, breaching contact as you slid your fingers into his briefs, coaxing a sharp sigh from the action. 
He was hung; perfectly so, in the sense that he wasn’t too big or small, and you were more than certain that he knew how to use it. It didn’t take you long to slide your panties down your legs, the action a sinful image that was certain to be burned into Tangerine’s mind for a while. 
When he entered you, it felt like heaven. Better than the bellboy, and certainly better than anything Jude had given you. Tangerine let out a gruff grunt, his usually kept hair falling into his face as he allowed himself to adjust to the sensation. You were warm, certainly wet, and fit perfectly around him, leaving him wondering why he hadn’t found you before.  
“Oh, darlin’...” he hummed. “Forgive me, I usually got a lot more in the tank...But I don't think I can hold back with you.” 
Your walls clenched at the statement, gripping the man as he began to thrust his hips in and out of you, finding a rhythm almost immediately. Your head dangled off of the arm of the couch as you glanced across at him; a beautiful British man you’d met 48 hours ago rutting into you with such passion that you’d never experienced in your 8eight year marriage. Sure, it could’ve been the fact that he was only the third man you’d been with, but it felt different; sweet, but sultry, firm, yet intimate. He was fucking you like an animal, but he was almost certainly the man of your dreams, the kind of man the college version of you had dreamed about marrying someday. 
Ok, Tangerine wasn’t the marrying type, but you couldn’t say you weren't bound for life. It was practically by blood.  
“Shit...” he groaned, momentarily pulling back to withdraw his hips and dagger you from another angle, hitting that oh-so sweet spot. “I ain’t ever had nothin’ better than this. You’re fuckin’ gorgeous, you know that?” 
You bit your lip and wined, finding words, let alone sentences, hard to conjure. You were far too overstimulated; with the man’s hands finding their way to your breasts again and his lips by your ear as he whispered sweet nothings in that thick accent of his.  
Desperately, you gripped onto his broad clothed shoulder, eyes fluttering shut as you basked in the motions. Jude was gone, dead, his body right at the bottom of the ocean, unlikely to ever be seen again (You’d learnt to never say never), and which technically made you a fugitive, but also a free woman. A free woman who’d met two handsome men, one you had a suspicion you’d be seeing often. Perhaps you’d become an assassin too; join them on the run across the world, or maybe you’d lay low for a while and drop off completely. Either way, you knew one thing for a fact – The Twins were going to have your back. 
In fact, they probably weren’t going to let you out of their sight. 
But, considering one of those were on top of you; a striking blue and filled with passion, you figured you just might stay a while.  
FIN. 
Taglist: @mylatest-hyperfixation @thewizardcat @j23r23 @ohgodthebogisback @starkeyboyismine @multifandomdiva 🤍
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wandafiction · 9 months ago
Text
You Stupid, Stupid Idiot
Warnings: Angst, Injury, death, No Happy Ending
“We have a mission.” 
It’s all Steve said as you and Natasha entered the kitchen, sleep still fresh in your eyes as you stand behind her with your arms wrapped around her waist, and your chin on her shoulder. You raise your brows at the man in his blue, white and red spandex who claps his hands a few times in front of the both of you and you shake your head quickly trying to wake yourself up as the reality of his words hit you.
“Wait a mission? But it's Sunday?” You groan, Natasha holds in a chuckle as Steve sends you a glare. 
“Yes, a mission like Hydra is going to take a day off. Everyone is coming so please go get yourself mission ready.” 
“Yes boss man.” You give him a fake salute as you drag yourself and Natasha back to your room to get changed into your mission gear. 
"What do you think the mission is? Steve seems pretty stressed." Natasha turns to you as you put the finishing touches on your suit.
"That man's always stressed, baby." Natasha chuckles, gently slapping your shoulder at your response.
"I'm serious dorogaya, he hardly stresses about missions and he said everyone is involved. Whatever it is, it must be serious." You turn to look at Natasha using your finger and thumb in her chin to tilt her head to look at you. 
"Steve is a stresser, but you're right it must be big for the whole team to be involved. So let's not keep them waiting." You lean down pressing a gentle kiss to her lips before tapping her butt earning a chuckle that breaks the kiss apart. "Let's go."
"Yes boss woman." Natasha gives you a fake salute smirking as she turns around and heads towards the door. 
"Oh you're gonna regret that." She squeals as you start to chase her out of the bedroom.
♤♡◇♧
"So everyone knows the plan?" Everyone looks at Steve from their seats in the quinjet all giving a small yes or thumbs up. "Good because we are five minutes out." 
“It's a quick in and out with hardly any agents, they think they are moving out of the base. Yeah right. So tell me now, miss romanoff, why do we need the whole team?” You ask quietly to the red-head sitting next to you, curling a brow at your question.
“He isn’t telling us something.” You nod at her response, both your eyes darting to the star-spangled man who is standing by the door of the jet, reading from the tablet in his hands.
“I wonder what it is he is hiding from us.” You look back to Natasha who is trying to get a read on the man, his body language showing he is hiding something by the way he shuffles on his feet, clearing his throat unnecessarily, looking around to make sure no one is looking over his shoulder.
“We could always ask Wanda.” You both look in the young Sokovian’s direction, the brunette looking down at her hands as she fiddles with her fingers as Vision does his best to calm her down, but his logical thinking makes that difficult. 
“She looks terrified.” Natasha states the obvious as you both take in the way Wanda’s complexion is rather pale, muttering to herself as she glances at Steve every now and again.
“She knows.” That’s all Natasha needs to hear from you to stand from her seat and make her way over to Wanda, kneeling down in front of the girl and placing a hand on her knee; you were quick to join sitting in the free seat next to her. Vision sees the look you give him, understanding enough to leave the three of you alone.
“What is he hiding?” Wanda looks at you and Nat wide eyed.
“I-I-I don’t know what you mean.” Natasha raises a brow and Wanda sighs knowing there is no use in lying. “Hydra managed to get one of Tony’s nanotech suits and are experimenting on it, him and Tony don’t know what to expect when we go in. They don’t think all of us will be coming home.”
“All of us always come home Wands, don’t worry about that. Just worry about fighting the bad guys and let Tony and Steve deal with whatever they are here for.” You wrap your arm around the younger girl's shoulder pulling her into a half embrace as Natasha squeezes her knees; the actions allowing Wanda to relax slightly.
“Okay, everyone, let's get this done.” The three of you look to Steve who is pressing the button to open the door and you are met by what seems to be an abandoned building, all of you cautiously make your way out of the jet. 
“I will see you in a minute.” You smile at Nat’s saying, turning your head to look down at her before leaving a soft kiss on her lips.
“I will see you in a minute.”
♤♡◇♧
“Y/n, shit! Stay with me.” You watch as Wanda slides onto her knees, almost colliding with your tired body that's slumped against a wall, her hands moving to cup your cheeks moving your head so you’re looking at her. “Hey, hey. You’re going to be fine okay. Let's get you out of here, back onto the jet and you and Nat can finally get married.”
“Wanda.” Your voice is weak, as a small amount of blood starts dribbling from the corner of your mouth.
“No, don’t you dare Wanda me. You and Nat are getting married next week, and I'll be damned if I don't help you get to that altar on time. So you keep your eyes on me, and I will get you out of here.” You don’t miss the tremble in her voice, the panic in her eyes, not believing her own words as she puts her finger to the coms in her ear. “Natasha, you need to get to the east side of the building, 3rd floor at the end of the corridor.”
“I’m a little busy with these Hydra goons right now Wanda, get Y/n to help you.” Wanda looks to the ceiling blinking away her tears, looking at you as you shake your head trying to stop her from saying what she is about to.
“I can’t, I need you here because it’s Y/n.” You hear the coms crackle in your own ear, the silence is deafening as you wait to hear a response.
“I’m on my way …  Cap?” 
“I got it, go.” Wanda looks back at you, using her free hand to wipe up the blood that is still leaving your mouth, and her eyes finally look down to the cause, taking her fingers off the com.
“I might be able to save you. I mean I’ve healed vision before, I should be able to heal you.” Her voice cracks with the emotion she is holding in, her hand moving down to your abdomen before brushing against the steel bar that you’ve become impaled on. 
“He is a literal walking microwave Wanda, wires and a powerful universe gem thing. This, this is something only a surgeon can fix.”
“So let's get you to doctor Cho, or Bruce. Yeah Bruce will know how to save you.” You shake your head, your bloodied hands grabbing a hold of Wanda’s frantically moving ones as she tries to come up with any ideas.
“Wanda, if we move me off this thing I’m dead.”
“And if you stay here, you’re dead.” The realisation seems to hit her and the tears start to flow down her cheek as she shakes her head in denial, her bottom lip quivering as she lets out a small no. “You can’t die, you and Nat are all I have left.”
“And you will still have Nat…” Before you can say anything else you feel another set of hands on your body and turn your head to see Natasha searching you up and down frantically, her panicked state not allowing her to see the obvious.
“Come on, up.” She says like she is talking to a child who is screaming and crying over simply having tripped over their own feet.
“I can’t.” You cough, a splatter of blood leaving your mouth, marking Wanda’s clothes and the floor. “Sorry.”
“Don’t apologise, nothing a little seltzer water and lemon can’t fix." You chuckle before coughing, Wanda using her sleeve to clean the fresh blood. 
"Sure thing Wands, that should work." Wanda gives you a pressed lip smile, trying her best not to completely break down in front of you. 
"What happened?" Natasha's soft voice causes you and Wanda to turn back to look at her, you wincing when the metal bar shifts slightly with your movement and you notice Natasha's eyes glued to the sight of it. 
"I was trying to get into the archive room and grab the blue prints and the plans and any intel I could. I didn't notice someone sneaking up behind me and Y/n jumped between me and him as he shot off his weapon. It was like Stark's blasters but in gun form and her shields weren't enough to stop her flying across the room." Wanda rambles desperately trying to make sure you don't die on her as she speaks.
"Where is he?" You see the flash of the old Natasha, the bloodthirsty assassin, as her voice drops an octave. 
"Dead." You weakly lift your hand to her cheek, rubbing soft circles along her cheekbone with your thumb and see the look that was there one second disappear at your words. 
"I may or may not have thrown him from the window." Wanda says shyly, earning a small chuckle from you and Natasha. "And yes I checked the body Nat, I couldn't let him get away with this."
"Nat what's your status?" The coms crackle once again in your ear at Steve's voice. "We are all done here, the three of you need to get back to the jet. We can't risk reinforcements coming."
"Steve." You hate the way Natasha's voice wavers, her normally strong but soothing voice gone and in its place a broken croak that once again silences the coms. 
"How long do you need?" Tony's voice is next and at his question Natasha looks at you, the color slowly draining from your face as more blood is coughed up by you; Wanda once again wiping your face clean of it. 
"I don't … I don't know, but just …. Please just wait for us." Natasha swallows harshly as she watches Wanda sandwich one of your hands between the both of hers. 
"Maximoff?" Tony seems to be taking over the command, which doesn't surprise you as Steve was never very good when it came to the death of someone he knew. You could imagine him sitting in his seat with his head in his hands as Bucky tries to comfort him.
"Yeah." You and Wanda both reply at the same time, earning a small chuckle down the coms.
"The older, not so good looking Maximoff." You can hear the smirk on Tony's face and you chuckle but wince in pain as the bar shifts again as your body slumps more as you struggle to keep yourself up.
"Rude." Is all you say but smile as you hear the chuckles of the other teammates and the two people in front of you. "I'm only 27, not that much older."
"That's 7 years sestra. Quite the age gap." You move to hit her, but a strong pair of hands on your shoulders stops you from moving and you give Nat a questioning look.
"The metal, don't move." You scrunch your brows as you follow her eyes and gasp when you see the metal poking out of your abdomen covered in blood.
"How did that get there?" You goofily smile as you move your free hand to the bar, your fingers poking the end. "And whose blood is that?"
"Nat…" You look back to Wanda, whose eyes are filled with fresh tears as she watches the delirium from the loss of blood take over. 
"Why are you crying Wands? Did someone die? Who died?" One of Wanda's hands moves to wipe her tears as Natasha takes your other hand in hers. 
"No one yet sestra. No one, I'm just happy to see you." You scrunch your brows.
"Well that's silly because we see each other everyday. So who's gonna die if no one has died." Wanda's bottom lip quivers her eyes saying it all and your head drops down to look back at the metal bar, as everything seems to hit you at once the delirium no more as it's wiped out by the reality you are in. "Oh."
"I love you." Your head moves to look at Natasha, a wide smile on her face as she sees you practically melt at the words. 
"I love you too Tasha. I'm sorry, but I don't think I'm going to make it to the altar." Natasha lets out a small sob, turning her head to look away from you as she tries to compose herself. 
"Hey Y/n." You hum, your head flopping to the side slightly as you look at Wanda, forcing your eyes to stay open. "When you see Pietro, tell him I said hi and that he needs to behave until I get there. I don't want to get to the afterlife and see you've murdered our brother because he was annoying you."
You let out a small laugh, no longer feeling the pain as the metal bar shifts your eyes nearly closed as your breathing slows down. You can feel that the inevitable is coming and there is nothing anyone can do, but you know you have to fight until your last breath so you force your head up leaning the back of it against the wall. Clearing your throat and opening your eyes as much as you can to see the two women in front of you, tears staining their cheeks as they hold your hands up theirs. 
"I promise not to kill Peitro, that's your job. He is your twin after all." Wanda nods with a laugh leaning forward to press a kiss to your forehead before leaning her own against yours. "Don't do anything stupid while I'm gone, and look after Nat for me. She is going to need you more now than ever."
"I promise." You gently rub your forehead against Wanda’s, something you have done since you were kids as your way to make a promise instead of making a pinky promise. 
"And you, my love, you look after my sister. You are both going to need each other." You swallow harshly, feeling your eyes starting to get heavy, unable to keep them open as you feel your throat dry, slapping your lips together and leaning into the touch on your cheek as Natasha places her hand on it. 
"I love you dorogaya." You smile weakly, your eyes staying closed as you take a shaky breath trying to use the last of your energy for her. 
"I love … love …y-y-ou too." Natasha feels your head fall more into her hand, your chest not rising as the last of your breath leaves your body as you allow the darkness and the inevitable consume you. 
"Natasha." Natasha clears her throat at the sound of Tony’s voice, placing her finger on her coms. 
"We are on our way." That's all she says as she moves closer to your body, wrapping one arm under your legs and the other around your back slowly pulling you off of the metal bar. 
Wanda keeps your hand in hers as she stands with Natasha, the both of them walking in silence. The only sounds that can be heard are the soft cries of the young Sokovian and the two women's footsteps in the cold snow as they step outside and towards the quinjet. 
They ignore the looks of sympathy from Tony and Steve, stopping themselves from saying anything as they spot Wanda's glare; her eyes glowing red. They both look away from two women who are cradling your body as they sit down, Natasha running her hand through your hair as your head lays in her lap. Wanda still has not let go of your hand, feeling that if she does it will make it all too real and she can't say goodbye to another sibling. Wanda looks at you shaking her head as her mind flashes memories of watching you fly into the wall as you save her life and she can only think of saying one thing to you now that you can't hear her.
"You stupid, stupid idiot."
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fatkish · 6 months ago
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Y/n x JJK boys
Itadori: Think you can unlock the door for us?
Nanami: Sure, I just need a couple of things. Gojo, can I have your credit card?
Gojo: Sure, just make sure not to bend it.
Nanami: Thanks. Now (Y/n), break down the door!
Gojo: Huh!?!
——————————————————————————
(Y/n): I never said I was gonna get back together with them. But I was thinking, they're in town, would it be the worst thing in the world if I gave them a call?
Itadori: No. No, (Y/n), it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. It would be the fourth worst thing. Number one: a super volcano. Number two: an asteroid hits the Earth. Number three: All the Evel Knievel movies are lost. Number four: (Y/n) calls Nanami. Number five: Gojo gets eaten by a shark.
Gojo: I’m Gojo, and I approve the order of that list.
——————————————————————————
Gojo: *tapping fingers on table*
Itadori: *taps fingers back furiously*
Nanami: …What’s going on?
(Y/n): Morse code. They’re talking.
Gojo: -.-- ..- .-. / - …. . / -.-. ..- - . … -
Itadori: *slams hands on table* YOU TAKE THAT BACK!
——————————————————————————
Nanami: You deserve a reward for putting up with me.
(Y/n): You are my reward.
*meanwhile*
Itadori: You deserve a reward for putting up with me.
Gojo: True, you can be really difficult at times.
——————————————————————————
(Y/n): I love them both, but how do I propose to two people?
Mohito : Two different restaurants, one person at each restaurant. Twice the dessert, twice the applause.
(Y/n): Won’t people think it’s weird if there is a third person just sitting there, though?
Mohito : I saw someone feed their pet peacock crème brûlée from their mouth at the French place on the corner last week: I think faux third-wheeling at an engagement is the least of your worries.
——————————————————————————
(Y/n): You don’t deserve me.
Mohito : At your worst or your best?
(Y/n): I don’t have a worst.
Mohito : Because you’re already at your worst?
——————————————————————————
(Y/n), texting Mohito : Hey do you like anyone?
Mohito : Yeah you
(Y/n): Oh, I'm sorry we're just friends
Mohito : *Yeah, you?
Mohito : Oh haha sorry lol
(Y/n): *dies inside*
——————————————————————————
(Y/n): We've got to find a way to cut down our expenses. What can we live without?
Itadori: Sukuna, probably.
Sukuna: watch it you little punk!
——————————————————————————
Sukuna: Comparing Itadori and (Y/n) is like comparing apples and oranges.
Itadori: We’re both unique in our own ways?
Sukuna: Apples are superior in every way and all oranges should be eliminated.
(Y/n): Which one of us is the orange?
——————————————————————————
Itadori: The best part of an oreo is the cookie part, not the frosting. Deal with it.
(Y/n): Darkness without light is an abyss. Light without darkness is blinding. You cannot have a coin with one side.
Sukuna: YO SOCRATES! IT'S A FUCKING COOKIE!
——————————————————————————
(Y/n): Guys, my friend here is bilingual.
Sukuna: Yes.
(Y/n): Which means they like both boys and girls.
Sukuna: Ye- wait, what-
Itadori: (Y/n), that's not what bilingual means-
(Y/n): Shhh, it's okay Sukuna. I still love you, man.
Sukuna & Itadori: ...
(Y/n): bUT NOT LIKE THAT-
——————————————————————————
*(y/n) and Itadori building a treehouse, after putting the last wall up*
Itadori: are we done?
(Y/n): almost just got to get the door nails *runs into wall with door drawn on it*
(Y/n): *slowly turns to look at Itadori* Itadori.
Itadori: what?
(Y/n) *motions with their head to the drawn on door* Itadori, where’s the door hole?
Itadori: it goes right there *points to drawn on door* see it drew it with a magic marker
(Y/n): you were supposed to cut it out with the power saw
Itadori: I’m gonna
(Y/n): oh really?
Itadori: yes
(Y/n): so go get the power saw *motions head towards the drawn on door*
Itadori: okay I will *walks right into drawn on door.
Itadori: *Knocks on drawn on door and begins looking around frantically* okay, I see the problem
(Y/n): oh, do ya?!
Sukuna: DUMBASSES!!
——————————————————————————
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serenewrote · 5 months ago
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Hey darling! I'm the anon who submitted this (https://serenewrote.tumblr.com/post/745794658206105600/i-just-read-your-daemon-x-dornish-daughter-and-im) and I loved what you wrote, but I can get the version with princess Martell fem!reader… And… I had another idea, I hope you don't mind… So reader gets pregnant and despite it being a difficult pregnancy and birth she gives birth to her daughter ( lady Martell), and they are living happily until when the girl is 5 years old, reader gets pregnant again, but this time she can't go to term, she is losing a lot of blood and the baby won't come out (and Daemon won't allows them to open her), then reader and the baby die, not before she says goodbye to her precious girl and Dae and makes him promise to take care of their daughter and try to be happy, they make one last vow of love and she dies . In this part, if it's not too much to ask, could you focus on Dae's relationship with his daughter? like how they deal with grief and how he takes care of her (in my head this happens before he marries Laena, but it's up to you) About two or three years pass and although he still loves and mourns the reader, he marries Laena who is a sweetheart to little Lady Martell and doesn't try to replace reader, and is an excellent maternal figure. In this part, the flow continues normally, Laena has the twins, years pass and they are well and happy, but when Laena gets pregnant again and dies, Lady Martell finds herself in the same situation again (she really feels the death of Laena and the baby while remembering Reader and her other unborn brother) She tries to comfort the girls and Daemon tries to comfort the three. They go to Westeros, the funeral and all that confusion takes place, but in the meantime Daemon receives a letter from Dorne saying that it is time for Lady Martell to return home (Dorne) and be prepared to take over the throne that belonged to her mother. Lady Martell is scared at first and goes to Daemon, they have a frank conversation and he says he will support whatever decision she makes (whether to accept it or not) but he encourages her to take on what is rightfully hers. She goes to Dorne and learns her duties quickly and efficiently. A year later, her coronation takes place Dae (who is beyond proud of his eldest daughter) and the rest of the family is there to celebrate. She is a good ruler and Dorne prospers under her leadership, but when the dance breaks out Rhae asks her to support the blacks, but Lady, or rather Princess Martell, says she will not take sides on any side (Dorne will not fight in a war which is not theirs) Rhaenyra, despite being disappointed, respects her decision, something the greens didn't do… please? (Sorry if I got carried away, but the original idea is so interesting that I couldn't help myself…but feel free to ignore this idea and do what you think is best, but if you happen to follow this idea, it will be Can you detail Lady Martell's relationships with Reader, Daemon, Laena, the twins and the rest of the family and her years ruling Dorne, please?)
Ok. Yes, I can absolutely whip this up for you! I had a feeling that is what you were leaning towards but I just had the first idea in mind when you had sent that request. So, I'm sorry that it wasn't exactly to your liking, apologies. Also, I'm gonna have to give y/n from that other one shot a name now. Little disclaimer: moons = 12 months aka 1 year. And here you go:
"It was all part of the story, even the scary nights" - Daemon x Fem! Martell! Reader
Prequel to "And nothing hurts anymore, I feel kind of free"
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Warning(s): death during childbirth, infantile death
110 AC
The battle at the Stepsons ended swiftly. They crowned Daemon, King of the Narrow Sea. To celebrate his conquest, Daemon set out to indulge in the finest of wines and there was only one place where it could be found, Dorne.
As Caraxas landed on the sands of Dorne, Daemon is greeted by the future Lady Y/n Martell, and her sister, Nymera.
"I heard the battle for the Stepsons was a victory. Congratulations, my prince."
The Rogue Prince smirks at Y/n, "Thank you, Princess. I also thank you for sending your fleet. Dorne isn't too font of Targaryens."
Caraxes cries out and you look to see your sister walking up to him.
"Nymera! Leave the dragon alone! Sorry, my sister's curiosity will get her killed one day."
Daemon chuckles, "We were all a bit curious at her age."
Y/n looks Daemon up and down, "My father speaks of you."
"It seems my reputation proceeds me."
"It's mostly just of what not to do and be as heir, my Prince. Although, I'm sure you are of good character."
Daemon scoffs. The audacity.
"I hope that your father won't turn me away, so that you can see how good my character is."
"Why do you think my sister and I are greeting you instead of him?"
Y/n led Daemon into the great hall where a celebration was taking place. She brought him over to her father, Qoren Martell.
"Father, Prince Daemon has come for a visit. I hope you can welcome him peacefully."
Qoren looks Daemon up and down, "A dragon in our midst can only bring trouble. I have half a mind to send him away."
Y/n rolls her eyes at her father's behavior. Daemon bows his head, "I promise, Lord Martell, to keep a peaceful visit and not disturb you."
"I hope for your sake that you keep that promise, dragon."
"Alright, father. That's enough. Come, Daemon. Let's join the festivities."
Y/n leads Daemon onto floor for a dance, "You do know how to dance, right?"
Daemon scoffs at that implication, "I wouldn't be a proper prince if I didn't."
"But you aren't a proper prince. A proper prince doesn't leave for another city instead of returning to his wife."
Daemon places his hands at you waist, "I assure you, Princess. My lady wife is more than joyous for my absence."
The dance starts out slow then speeds up. At the music's climax, Daemon lifts you up. You look deep into each other eyes.
"How unfortunate for you. To be trapped in a loveless marriage.
Daemon's eyes drops to your mouth. His tongue darts out to lick his lips.
"Yes, how unfortunate."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
112 AC
In Lady Y/n Martell's chambers, she has begun her labors. Her handmaidens crowd around her.
“My lady, is there anything you need?”
The exhausted and straining Princess grits her teeth, “I would love if the Maester wasn’t wasting his time doing gods know what and help me bring my child into the world.”
Two of the handmaidens run out to see what’s keeping the maester and Daemon walks in.
“Where’s the maester, my love?”
“If I knew, he would be here. It seems he has decided to spend his time elsewher-ahhh!”
Lady Y/n tenses up. She grabs Daemon with a fierce grip.
“My dragon, my maester is nowhere to be found and little sand dragon has took it upon itself to push out.”
“Now? Like right now?”
Y/n took a deep breath, “Daemon?”
“My love?”
“You are going to help me, right now!"
"Y/n, I'm not a maester. I've never even seen a woman birth a baby. I don't know what I'm doing."
"Lucky for you, I have. Now, go and sit between my legs. It's nothing you haven't seen before-ahh!! Go now!"
Y/n's skin shines with sweat. She grips onto the chair. Daemon lifts his head from the sheet.
"Now, do I catch it when you push or....?"
Y/n looks at her lover. Surely he is not this stupid.
"Catch? catch?! If my child has even a second of air time before their first dragon ride, I'll cut your cock off and that is a promise. Now I'm going to start pushing so, focus!"
After copious amounts of pushing, Y/n and Daemon's daughter, named Aelyssa after Daemon's mother, decided to grace Westeros with her presence.
"Such powerful cries for a small little one."
"She's a dragon. Her cries are like roars."
"You, Aelyssa Targaryen, are going to be great."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
117 AC- Aelyssa is 5
Aelyssa is conflicted. Her mother is pregnant and she is to have a sibling. She is only 5 moons old, she doesn't know how to be a big sister. She isn't allowed in the birthing room but if her mother's cries are anything to go by it seems like it isn't the place to be right now.
In the birthing room, Lady Martell isn't doing so well. The maesters are concerned with something.
"My lady, it seems as if the baby is breached somehow."
"I just need to push a little more, please!"
Maester Osferth looks at the woman with a solemn look. Daemon notices.
"What is it? Can she not continue pushing?"
"Well, my prince. It would be ill-advised to do so. Perhaps we could try and cut-"
"No, absolutely not! You will not cut her like some animal!"
Y/n looks up at Daemon, "My prince."
"My love."
"I fear the babe and I will not make it."
"Don't say that."
Y/n grips Daemon's hand, hard.
"And Aelyssa will need you more than ever. The rest of the realm will not kind to her. You need to hold her and love her as you do now.
"I swear it."
Lady Y/n's grip on her lover loosens and she takes her last breath
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
118 AC - Aelyssa is 6
It has been one moon since Lady Martell's death and the baby. Once Lady Martell had died, they cut out the baby for burial. It was a boy.
Aelyssa has not gotten over it. She mourns in her room and has her food delivered to her door.
Her father has dragged her out of her chambers to break their fast. She hasn't taken one bite.
"Zaldrītsos, can you please eat something?"
"I am not hungry."
Daemon sighs, "Aelyssaa. You are grieving, so am I, but I do not want you starving yourself. Your mother would not want you to starve yourself."
"I'm just not hungry, father. It has nothing to do with Muña."
Daemon walks over to her and grabs her hand, "Come with me."
They walk out of the dining hall and down to the crypts. Aelyssa marvels at the her ancestral burial place. They stop in front of Y/n's coffin. Daemon gestures her to kneel.
"Hello, my love. It has been one moon since you were taken by the Stranger. We are grieving, but it is hard without you here. Our little sand-dragon is having trouble adjusting, naturally. Maybe this can give her peace of mind."
Aelyssa places her hands on her mother's coffin, "Hello, Muña. I admit that I am not doing well with your passing. I am not eating, but I cannot find the strength to eat. Not when you're not sitting with us. I know that you wouldn't like it, and I would try to cope better. There are also talks of my ascension as Dorne's new lady. Aunt Nymeria rules in my stead until I am ready."
Tears roll down Aelyssa's face. She makes no move to wipe them.
"I have ignored father which I know I should not do as he is the only parent I have, but it is hard. I hope that you are looking down at us from the heavens and shall be proud of the woman I become."
Aelyssa launches into Daemon's arms unable to hold her sobs.
"Oh, my sand-dragon. It's ok. The hole of grief is never filled, but you learn to live with their memory. I am always here. Do not be scared to come to me with anything that dwells in your head. The ones who love us and the ones we love, never truly leave us."
Daemon and Aelyssa spent that night in the crypt, sleeping beside Y/n.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
125 AC - Aelyssa is 12
It has been 3 moons since Former Lady Martell's death. Aelyssa is still having some trouble adjusting.
She and Daemon are sparring in the training yard of Pentos. Instead of putting her all into it as usual, Aelyssa's been lagging and her father can tell.
"Stop."
Aelyssa looks up at her father, confused. "What? Why?"
Daemon takes her sword from her hand and kneels down, leveling with her.
"What troubles you my little sunshine?"
"Nothing. Can we finish, Father?"
Daemon narrows his eyes, "No. We can talk about what's distracting you."
She sighs. Father always knows.
"You have married Lady Laena and she is with child, you will forget about me."
"Why would I ever push you aside? You are my firstborn. Nothing will change that."
"But your children will be legitimate in the eyes of the Seven Kingdoms- well six, Dorne doesn't count. The lords, ladies, and the king, I am naught but a bastard to them. And your children might rule Driftmark, a powerful ally to the King. What am I but a future Lady to a kingdom that will never ally with the rest."
Daemon caressed Aelyssa's face. His eyes soft. He remembers Y/n's last words: The rest of the realm will not be kind to her. You need to hold her and love her.
"You are my daughter. Not a political tool. Legitimate or not, I don't care. My brother can moan and groan about you all he wants. I fell in love with your mother and still hold so much love for her. Every time I look at you, I see her. And that fills me with so much happiness because our love created something so beautiful and precious."
"I am not yet sold on Lady Laena. It will take time."
"I do not intend to rush you. Just understand that I still love you and always will. Nothing will ever change that."
"Love you too."
Aelyssa hugs Daemon. Not too keen on his reassurance but she trusts his word.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
137 AC- Aelyssa is 14 (Rhaenyra and Daemon have married and now this is following the last few episodes of S1)
Aelyssa is dressed in gold yellow with hints of red and black. She is pacing in front of closed throne room doors. Daemon is watching her, amused.
"Have you reached the sand yet?"
Aelyssa glares at her father.
"Not the time. I'm nervous and Mother is not here to advise me. I fear I will dishonor her and my ancestors."
Daemon grabs Aelyssa's shoulders to stop her pacing.
"You will be great. You have not dishonored me, therefore you have not and will not dishonor her. Your mother would want you to rule Dorne however you see fit. Now, are you ready?"
Daemon holds his arm out. Aelyssa latches onto him. The doors open. They walk. The room is quiet and all eyes are on their soon-to-be Lady. They reached the front and Ser Cyrbon led Aelyssa up the steps and she sat on her throne.
"I present to you all, Aelyssa Martell, daughter of Y/n Martell, and your Lady! Hail Lady Aelyssa!"
"Hail Lady Aelyssa!"
It's done. You are now Lady of Dorne. You should address the people.
"To my people of Dorne. I welcome you to the new dawn of our kingdom. I intend to rule as my mother did and more. But know this, Dorne will forever remain: Unbowed, Unbent, and Unbroken!"
The people cheered, the guards looked on in pride. Daemon smiles, and the sun- the sun shines a bit brighter on you.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
141 AC - Aelyssa is 18
No body was found. The search was in vain. We burn his clothes in place of his body.
Aelyssa is conflicted. She knows not how to comfort her cousins and her sisters. She walks up to Rhaenyra, careful.
"He will be avenged, I swear it."
They walk into the council room. Making battle plans. Rhaenyra and Aelyssa make eye contact throughout the meeting.
"Cousin, I ask you this because I need it. I could use your help."
"Dorne will not fight in a war which is not theirs."
"I am desperate."
"Lucerys did not die in vain. Justice will come but not from us, I'm afraid."
Aelyssa pulls Rhaenyra into a hug.
"I pray to the gods that you are successful. I can't wait to see you on the throne, Cousin. The Iron Throne.
fin.
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And if Aelyssa sent Blood & Cheese instead of Daemon, no one will know.
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she-posts-nerdy-stuff · 7 months ago
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Okay I’ve been toying with an idea for a Six of Crows au post-Crooked Kingdom where Van Eck won for a little while now and yeah idk but I had a scene idea come to me just now so I’m gonna write it here to see what you guys think and if there’s any interest then I might add it to my list of fics to write
This feels like a weird introduction but, er, here we go:
Inej knew the moment Kaz got home. There were no longer any crowds in the house to come to attention at his entrance, or if there were then no-one had bothered to come down to the half-room and tell Inej, but she could hear his voice drifting through the vents as soon as the door upstairs banged shut behind him.
“Where’s Inej?”
“Where do you think?” Matthias’ reply came roughly, and Inej could all but picture the disapproving grimace that must be crossing his face about now.
Let him judge. She didn’t need to leave the half-room, and for as long as that was true she wouldn’t. The vents did not give her every room though, and she did miss gathering her secrets. She wondered if there was anyone else in the house, but the five of them. Five? She stopped and counted them on her fingers. Yes, five. Hopefully still five. Inej had not bothered to leave the half-room in days, and no-one had been down to see her since yesterday morning.
She heard the door click open behind her, of course, but she did not bother to look up as Dirtyhands entered the room.
“Wraith,”
“Don’t you read the papers, Kaz?” Inej asked, without turning, “The Wraith is dead,”
She stood up, hand wandering across the table for her little pot of jurda. It tasted like shit and it wasn’t nearly as strong as she wanted it to be, but it took less than a month for the price of the blossoms to surpass the height of the stars so she’d have to make do with whatever they had left.
“Inej-”
“They found her body on the steps outside the Church of Barter almost three months ago, remember?” she finally turned to face Kaz, unscrewing the lid on the little silver pot as she did so, “Killed by some mercenary called the White Blade, who still hasn’t been found by they way in case you haven’t seen the latest. I guess it’s difficult to catch a ghost,”
Difficult to catch a wraith.
“We’ve had this conversation several times, Inej-”
“And we’re going to have it again,”
Inej placed an orange jurda blossom on her tongue, then offered the open container to Kaz. It was almost empty. He waved her off.
“I thought you didn’t go in for that sort of thing,”
Inej shrugged.
“Gotta stay awake somehow, haven’t I? We’re busy,”
“We’re not on a job”
“We’re never on a job. Unless the reason you’ve bothered to grace me with your presence is a proposition?”
Kaz shook his head.
“I just wanted to tell you there’s no news,”
Inej looked away. There was never any news. And yet somehow she always expected differently.
“He’s dead, isn’t he?”
“Probably,”
Inej caught another jurda blossom between her fingers. She needed to stay awake, because if she slept she would see him. She would see all the ways she’d failed.
“It wasn’t your fault, Inej, we’re having the same conversations on repeat can’t you see-,”
“And we’ll have them again,” she shrugged, “We will have this conversation again, Kaz, because I made a mistake and you are coddling me like a child who won’t be able cope if you tell them something was their fault. Tell me it was my fault, Kaz! We both know that it’s true,”
Kaz shook his head.
“I’d rather repeat the previous,”
“Then let’s,” snapped Inej, because hell if this jurda wasn’t strong enough to keep her awake then maybe an argument would be, “Let’s repeat the goddamn conversation, Kaz, because you’re right. We have the same two conversations on repeat and do you want to know why? Because I am owning up to the mistake I made and I am trying to deal with the consequences of it, but you had no right to do what you did, do you understand me? You messed up and you need to take some damn responsibility, because if you think-”
“You always knew Tailoring Dunyasha’s body to look like yours was a possibility for your escape option,” said Kaz, calmly.
She hated how quiet his voice was, how slow and deliberate he sounded next to the and ramblings that she could not stop from stumbling out of her.
“You know that’s not what I meant,” she hissed, slamming her jurda back down on the table.
“I couldn’t have done anything to stop that,”
“You could have tried,”
“Inej-”
“Shevrati,”
Know-nothing.
She waved a hand vaguely at the door.
“Get out,”
Kaz turned to leave, then paused.
“I am sorry, Inej. They’d like to see you upstairs, you know. Nina misses you,”
“Nina can come down here then,”
“Inej… I can’t do anything for you but apologise,”
“Keep you apologies,” she snarled, and when the door had closed behind him added: “Choke on them,”
Kaz could apologise all he wanted. She would not forgive him. What right did he have to expect anything different from her than this? Did any of them? Kaz had not had to watch his parents cry, as they carried home the body of a child that wasn’t theirs. Kaz had not had to feel the ironclad grip of the person he thought he’d trusted most in the world as they held him back and told him to swallow his sobs and keep quiet. Kaz had not given up and gone limp in their arms, a mess of tears and useless prayers, as he saw his parents slip from his grasp once again and knew that he would not have the chance to tell them truth.
Kaz had also not failed the others, and did not have to feel the truth of that choking him every time he saw them. Kaz had not spent almost three months barely daring to venture out of the half room, just so he would never have to lock eyes with Jesper Fahey. There was a scream inside Inej that had been slowly building itself since the day of the auction, and if she did not find a way to release it soon it may very well eat her alive.
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