#these pills are meant to be a crutch but i think they just make me feel worse. except ig i feel bad out of bed instead of in bed

[daz4i]

other than adding a line here or there to my "cool lines/vents i might use in future songs" file i haven't created anything since i went on these meds and i will not lie. i am a little worried

[barcalover86]

I'm not allowed to love you

Part 1 here

Summary: You are too young for Gavi, but he can't help but fall in love.

"It's just weird to be taken care of.. my fan, you know?

"You nodded your head, understanding him completely.

"Then I'll pretend I'm not your fan." you say it seriously and he smiles lovely.

"Thank you."

Then he leaves the room with his crutches, leaving you alone.

This is going to be hard.

It's been 2 hours since you were standing in the living room alone. You thought plenty of times to go upstairs to Gavi, but first you didn't know where exactly he was, and second, you were really shy.

All of this caught you by surprise and it was hard to take.

But as well you couldn't stay there all night long, doing nothing. You didn't even know where you were placed to sleep.

So, just when you found the courage, you walked upstairs, looking for the boy. After all, you were his maid.

You knocked on some doors until one finally opened, revealing Gavi.

"Oh, I'm sorry for bothering you, but can you help me with some things, please?"

He looked at you and nodded before walking you to a different room.

"This is going to be your room, you can leave everything here. Feel free to feel like home." he smiles.

"Thank you so much. And um.. what do you want to eat?"

He thinks for some seconds before answering you.

"Do you know how to cook pasta?"

"Yes, yes, no problem."

He smiles.

"Tell me when you're ready then so that i can help you. It's a different recipe since I have to look out for a diet."

Then he closes the door before you could reply.

He seemed really nice.

Maybe it wasn't going to be that hard.

After some minutes, you went downstairs, letting Gavi know that you are ready.

He was being really nice to you the whole time, and it felt like the love you got for him was growing every minute. But you couldn't allow it. You really needed this job and he surely didn't want you.

You glanced at him for some seconds, admiring his features while he was putting the pasta to boil.

After you were done, you cleaned the mess you two made, and when you returned to the table, you were surprised to see him waiting for you.

He saw your face and decided to answer your question.

"Don't expect me to be rude. I still have manners, whether I like you or not."

You nodded, embarrassed, sitting down right in front of him.

For some reason, you couldn't eat. You were too shy to do it in front of him, so the whole time you were only playing with your food, looking down.

He was looking at you, not understanding what the problem was, but he let you be, leaving you alone.

After you were sure he was in his room, you started to eat, starving.

There're going to be some hard months for you.

Waking up every day at 3:30 to make Gavi breakfast, then hurring to not miss the train, because after all, you still had school.

Then hurring again to not miss the other train after school.

All that just to be back to Gavi's home at 19, ready to make dinner for the boy.

You didn't have much time to eat because you still had to clean the house and learn your mind out for school.

And after some weeks, you felt so, but so tired.

You couldn't even rest on weekends, because you had to take care of Gavi.

You two weren't talking much, just the important things. What do you want to eat? You have to take your pills.

And all those stuffs.

You knew it wasn't going to be easy, but you really needed the money.

Now it was another day when your train was late so you decided to buy some food for you and Gavi. You already told him that you'll be late and he announced you that Pedri will stop by at his house.

You didn't have a problem with it because it wasn't your home, but that meant that you had to give your food to Pedri because you only had two portions.

Somehow, you arrived earlier than expected, and just when you entered the house, you heard your name.

"So how is living with y/n?" Pedri asked.

"It's not like I see her much."

"Poor girl, for what you told me, she is working so much. I bet she's tired. Waking up at 3 to go to school just so that she could arrive back at 19 to do house stuff and to learn for school. I don't understand why someone would want to do that."

Gavi chuckles.

"Well i think she'll do anything to see me."

"What do you mean?"

"She is my fan, Pedri. She is doing all these things just so that she can see me. Sad that she thinks she might have a chance. I could never look at someone this young."

"How old is she?"

"She just turned 17. She's 3 years younger than me."

"It's not that big of a different, Gavi. And she looks really beautiful."

"I would never date my fan. Especially her."

And that hurt you.

"She is literally someone so obsessed with me. Now, who would actually do all those things just so that they could see me 10 minutes??"

You couldn't bare it anymore, so you walked in the room with tears in your eyes.

"You are so full of yourself, Pablo Gavi."

The boys turn to look at you with a panic face.

"Do you really think that I would sacrifice my time just to see you? Yes, a tone of girls would want to fuck you because they are so, but so obsessed with you, but just know that maybe some people just have to work hard so that they could accomplish their dream. And when I say dream, I don't mean the 'I want to fuck Gavi dream' , but 'I need to work hard because I need money to pay for my college', you idiot! Not everyone is a hoe or a psychopath! Yes, I am a fan of you because you I really appreciate what you're doing. You are the type of person that never gives up for what they wish and I thought that you might understand me as well. I DON'T want to do all this, even if it means to see you, because after all my health is in danger. I barely sleep, I work a lot JUST so that I could pay for may college bills because not everyone here is RICH!"

Gavi looks down, shame all over his face.

But you don't say anything else, you walk to your room to get your things. You are leaving for good.

Your eyes were red from crying.

"Pedri, you can have my food. It's on the kitchen table." you say it with a soft and sweet voice.

"Where are you going?" you heard Gavi's panic voice.

"Home."

"No, y/n, please.." he stands up, hurting his knee bad.

"Sit down!" Pedri tells him.

"No, no, y/n please let's just talk-"

"We have nothing to talk about. I quit. You can always find another may. Maybe now someone who is older and prettier and-"

"STOP IT!" he shouted standing once again, walking towards you.

"Gavi, you are hurting your fucking knee!!" Pedri yells at him, but the boy doesn't care.

When he was about to reach you, he starts to cry. You look at him shocked.

Pedri comes right behind him and hugs him.

Gavi grabs your hand, afraid that you might dissappear.

"Does it hurt?" you asked.

He doesn't reply. Pedri looks at you and whispered. " Don't go."

"I have to.."

He shakes his head. "Please, don't."

You turn around, getting your hand off Gavi.

Pedri comes to you.

"He loves you.."

"What?"

"Trust me.. he really does. Just look at him-"

You then turn to see Gavi looking at you with tears in his eyes.

He almost seemed like he was in love with you. Almost.

"He cannot, Pedri. I heard what he said about me-"

"He lied. He lied, y/n."

"And why would he lie?"

"Because his mother told him to not even dare to fall in love with you, because you need to concentrate on your studies."

"I don't believe you."

Pedri looks at you sad.

"I'm sorry then. But that's the truth."

Looking for the last time at Gavi, you turn around and leave the house.

Pedri then looks at his friend who wa starting to tear up.

"It's all my fault.. "

You arrived at the train station, having to wait 3 hours for the next ride.

Your eyes were still full of tears when you heard someone calling your name.

Pedri.

You roll your eyes, but somehow happy to see him.

"What do you want?"

"Just hear this."

He opened his phone, putting it next to your ear.

"What did she say?"

"She's leaving.. I'm sorry, I really tried to-"

"No, Pedri, no! She won't ever forgive me. I hurt her and it's all my fault, all my fault. I should've said nothing. Pedri, please help me. I cannot lose her, Pedri please." he sobs desperately. " I love her!"

"You for real recorded him?"

"He tried to come here, but his knee hurts him like hell now. So I came for him because I'm his friend and I know that he is suffering and I know that you are suffering as well-"

"Pedri, I must leave. I can't live like that anymore. It's just too hard to bare. I'm going home-"

"But he needs you-"

"I need myself more! I can't risk my health again. I sacrificed a lot for money. Time, days without eating, sleepless nights. But right now, all of this is more important. I'm sorry, but I won't go back."

He looks down.

"I'm sorry. It's so selfish of me to ask you to stay." He looks into your eyes with a sad smile. "Thank you for everything you've done for him."

Then he leaves just like you left Gavi.

You opened your phone just to see a message from him.

So that you won't have to worry about work anymore. Thank you for everything.

You look into your bank account to see a big amount of money from him.

Gavi was waiting for Pedri to come back and when he saw his face, he knew that he didn't make it. He looks down, trying not to cry.

Pedri went to hug him. (GIF) It was hard to see his friend suffer this much. First, because of his knee and second because of love.

Pedri was also surprised to hear Gavi's confess. After all, he also spent some few weeks with you and falling in love wasn't happening that easy.

But maybe this was faith. Or just a lesson.

And that scared him the most.

Gavi didn't want you to be just a lesson.

Ah, will you choose to stay with Gavi (love) or will you decide to go back home back to your studies (school)?

Write in the comments if you want part 3 and if you choose love or school!

Reminders:

@coco657

@itachiuciha21

@urmotheris

@leclercslover

@iamhisforever

@gavisimmaculaterizz

@gigicisneros

@heyyrose

@girlidekanymore

@spidybaby

[maidenvault]

Okay so, Crosshair’s hand.

Has anyone pointed this out? When Crosshair kills Nolan, he doesn't use his shooting hand.

He uses his left. Just as he very significantly has to in the series finale.

I don't know if the writers knew as far back as "The Outpost" that Crosshair was going to lose the use of his shooting hand and by extension everything he believed made him strong, a "superior" clone, and safe from being discarded when he was kind of fascism-pilled. But it feels extra significant in retrospect that his first action taken against the Empire is not done with the hand associated with the terrible things he did as an Imperial sniper. And it's after he just got a difficult lesson about how his own personal strength and skills aren't enough to protect him - he was saved twice by Mayday, then possibly only survived through the night because he wouldn't leave him behind and could share his body heat. He may be using his left hand when he shoots Nolan because his other arm is tired from supporting Mayday all the way back, which only adds to the symbolic touch I love that Mayday is using his rifle as a crutch to help him walk as well (and of course, he's at close range so quite meaningfully Crosshair doesn't use the rifle to shoot here either). It all supports the idea of this as the first huge moment of transformation for Crosshair when he's finally turning his fire on the real enemy out of a desire to protect others, however futile and too late it is in this particular situation.

Going back and noticing this really reinforced for me that Crosshair's hand injury probably isn't just meant as a manifestation of his trauma related to Tantiss. It would make sense considering it's his shooting hand that it also has something to do with his inner conflict regarding his changed relationship with violence and killing.

The Batch were introduced as these stereotypically macho soldier characters, an impression that's softened a little as early as the pilot of TBB but still distinguishes them a little from other clones. In a kind of funny way you can look at the whole series as being about these guys who were only brought up to fight gradually discovering and finding peace with their more traditionally feminine sides - literally because of Omega, a female version of themselves who shows them the possibilities of being a family and living for others instead of for violence.

For Crosshair this journey is much more difficult and like a painful rebirth than it is for anyone else because being a soldier was so much of his identity. He's always been the one to most pointedly distinguish his squad from regs because of their "superior" traits that he thinks will make the Empire value them, and he clearly internalized the way the Kaminoans only care about clones as weapons to be used in war. And it all betrays how little value Crosshair actually believes he has deep down. It was easy to go into S3 being especially worried about his fate because he's believed so long that he's not good for anything but fighting and he's the character it was the hardest to imagine adjusting to a different life.

But in retrospect, it was stupid to think they'd let him off that easy and of course the whole point is that it takes a lot to get him there. What exactly he went through on Tantiss beyond the electroshock torture we've seen is never delved into but personally, I think being a soldier is something that's poisoned for Crosshair after he becomes a victim of the Empire himself and subject to their attempts at reconditioning. He's not psychologically able to be that person anymore, but for a long time is still trying to largely rely on himself and his own strength. He tries to sacrifice himself for others because he's still holding onto that part of himself in a way.

But for once in Star Wars we've gotten a fully realized redemption arc showing that sometimes what's harder than giving your life in a redemptive way is to actually have to figure out how to live with the bad things you've done and be better. Some of the people Crosshair hurt were his family, and he has to learn he can only make things better by being there for them. He has to learn that he actually can survive and figure out a way forward from his life as a soldier if he lets himself rely on them, just like he only survived Barton IV with help from Mayday. As @moonstrider9904 explains so well in this post, that is what's so important about Crosshair losing the hand and making that final shot to save Omega with Hunter's support. Symbolically he's had that toxic part of himself actually cut off and it's the final, most painful part of his rebirth. But because of that he's forced to find that he can live on without it, that he's surrounded by people who love and believe in him anyway, and that having superhuman skills as a killer was never what gave him worth.

No, having his shooting hand cut off doesn't "fix" anything or mean that Crosshair is healed. He's probably only begun to recover from everything he's been through. But all we really need to see is that he's firmly found his place as part of a family instead of a squad, and he's not going to be alone as he deals with all of that.

[inforapound]

The Devil Inside  -  Part 3

I really meant for this to be the last chapter but it got away on me. I’m sorry. Also, please don’t date anyone who acts like Ivar. This chapter really makes me miss high-school though. 😬 It actually will be a couple of week before the finale is posted.

Pairing - Ivar and you

Warning - SMUT

The rest of the weekend was quiet and you spent it at home, declining invitations to meet up with friends. Instead, you studied, baked banana bread, and overall did as many wholesome things as you could to restore moral balance after your movie theatre shenanigans.

In truth, you felt a little sick over it, like you had been duped but what would you have even said to Ivar if he had called anyway? Thanks for the rub? Nope.

It was rare those days that your mom and dad were both home at the same time, or at all, as each traveled so much for work and you were pleased to have a family supper that Sunday night and pretend that you were still a kid.

Of course, the events of your Friday night did not leave your mind and you found yourself zoning out, remembering how Ivar had looked at the theatre and how he smelled, and what his mouth felt like on yours. God, his tongue had been inside your mouth as if wanting to taste your orgasm. More than once you had thought about his words, the part where he said “he knew that you were a good girl.”  How exactly did he know that? And if you were good, what was bad?

By Monday the entire event seemed less vivid and it was easier not to think about. But walking out of the school at lunch and seeing that black Camaro brought back that same rush of uncertainty. Was he there for you? Of course, he was, you almost rolled your eyes at yourself. He was parked right beside your car instead of his usual spot across the lot. God, you felt anxious but weren’t you also a little relieved? Shit... and where were Kim and Amanda? You needed them. As if they heard, your phone chimed but looking at your screen it was not a number you recognized.  

    : Are you going to stand there all day?

It was Ivar. Obviously. He apparently had your number after all.

Walking toward him, you were acutely aware that he was watching your every move. You could feel those cold blue eyes and because of the small size of your hands, when you got to the car, you struggled to open his car door with its stiff classic car handle. It was impossible to miss how he rolled his eyes when he leaned over to help open it from the inside. You felt stupid and awkward and by the look of him, you were already on his nerves.

“Hi,” you said meekly as you slid down into the seat.

Not saying anything back, he glanced over but continued to stare out the front window watching kids head to their cars.

It was quiet and felt strained and just… nope…. you weren’t doing it; his attitude, his sighs, and rolling eyes. Forget it. You had some self-respect and weren’t going to be ignored while sitting in his car.

“So, I was thinking... the other night,” you started and he glanced at you again, his face unreadable but the frown he often wore was there. “It was kinda crazy and I just don’t want to...”

“To what?” he snapped.

Hesitating you waited in case he was going to say more but when he didn’t you licked your lips and his bright blue eyes flicked down to catch that subtle movement. “So... I was saying,” you continued and he locked eyes with you again, “I don’t want you to think that you’ve got to follow up or, I don’t know, take me out...”

“You don’t want me here?” he cut you off again, his eyes were narrowed at you, assessing.

Oh no, you had not given enough thought to what you were trying to say. You had obviously insulted him.

“No, no,” you repeated, reaching over and putting your hand on his arm, his leather coat feeling soft. “I only meant...”

“Meant what?” his eyes narrowed further and he made a face like you had just blown salt at him.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized, shaking your head. “I’m bad at this. I only meant it feels backward, doing something so... intimate and then seeing each other and trying to... I don’t know...” you shrugged, sounding defeated.

Leaning over the console between your seats, he smirked. “Kiss me then.”

“What?” you couldn’t help but smile at his instant change in mood and you leaned back slightly to better look into his blue eyes. God, were they ever electric.

“If you’re not sure what to say, just kiss me. Everything else will come.”

Your enormous grin forced him to smile and you did, you kissed him. His hand came up and held the side of your face and it felt so amazing you sighed. You actually sighed. God, was this happening?

Pulling his lips away, he looked at you and his expression was serious but you could feel that his entire demeanor had softened. He was less on guard.

“Are you hungry? Wanna grab food?” he asked.

“Last block was home-ec; I ate everything in sight but I’ll go wherever you want so you can eat.”

Nodding, he straightened and turned the ignition; the engine firing up with a roar.

Less than five minutes on the road and you could tell where he was taking you. Driving through the gates, the impressive Tudor house came into view and he parked right in front, not saying a word as he got out and headed in, his crutch making a soft clicking sound as you trailed behind.

Inside, no one was around but you heard a TV or radio in the distance perhaps from the kitchen or that family room.

Down the hallway and into his room, you stood in the center looking around as he balanced his crutch against a hip and took off his leather coat, tossing it onto the loveseat. Flipping on music, he looked over at you and sat down on the end of his neatly made bed. You were dragging out the moment and when your eyes met his eyes, you knew, that he knew you were stalling.  

“You said you weren’t afraid of me.”

“I’m just trying to get a sense…. I don’t actually know you.”

Tipping his head to one side, he looked at you. Really looked, seeming to simultaneously analyze your appearance, your meaning, your reasons for coming, why you had let him do all those things to you. You didn’t actually know what he was thinking but that’s what it felt like. Regardless, it was clear, he held the power in the room.

“Come here,” he nodded to the bed beside him, his eyes not giving away his thoughts.

Clearing your throat, you made your way over, slowly sitting down, your hands running over your thighs to smooth out your skirt. Turning his head, he continued to look and you glanced up nervously.

“I know something about you,” he crooned, his expression a little more playful.

“What?”

“I know you are smart. Top of your class. I know you don’t go anywhere without those two chicks. I also know you dated some rugby player from Reynolds.”

“How do you know all that?” you asked your body picking up that static in the air that tended to play between you.

“Mark,” he answered matter-of-factly.

“I see,” you shifted on the bed, feeling squirmy. “I’m at a disadvantage then. I know nothing about you. Other than you have two brothers.”

“Three.”

“And that you go to Clairmont,”

“I don’t…I do school online.”

“Oh. I know that you are a good kisser,” you peeked up at him seeing how your comment brightened his face. “But that’s it.”

You weren’t sure why you couldn’t hold his eye contact but it was then that his fingers brushed back the hair hanging over your shoulder, and you stayed frozen as he pulled the collar of your white blouse aside. Slowly he leaned in closer and closer, his face reaching the crook of your neck and he pressed a kiss just below your ear. Ahhhhhh, you nearly melted as his lips continued lightly across your throat, gently sucking your skin into his mouth, making your body shiver. But you didn’t move…..

Pulling back, he looked at you and then sighed loudly.

“You’re so tense,” he breathed out. “Fine! What would you like to know?”

“Pardon?”

“You feel like you don’t know me. So… ask.” He lifted his eyebrows and shook his head like what he was saying was obvious. “I never lie.”

“Ohh-kay,” you said cautiously feeling unsure of where to start but not wanting this window to close.

“Where are your parents?” you started with the basics.

“My father is never around. Overseas working and my mom died two years ago.”

Okay, that was NOT where to start. “I’m sorry,” you turned your head and looked at him.

Swatting the air as if to move on, he gawked, impatient for you to continue.

“What do you want to do after school?”

“I don’t know.”

“Who was your last girlfriend?”

“Skip.”

“Wait you said...”

“I didn’t lie,” he cut you off. “I said skip.”

“Ohh-kay,” you replied, thinking quietly for a moment and you could tell this game was nearly done. “Do you deal drugs?”

He actually flinched and flared his nostrils, and you kept your eyes on him watching his reaction. Glancing around the room, he seemed to be steadying himself obviously hating this game.

“Weed,” he said almost bitterly. “I don’t deal drugs,” he mimicked some voice as if it was yours. “I sell weed. Nothing more than that.”

“Why?”

His head snapped over to look at you again and you could tell he was trying not to glare. God, he was not an open person.

“For the money,” you smiled, indicating you were joking, trying to lighten the mood.

“I started smoking it a couple of years ago. I went through a bad time after my mom passed. My legs were pretty bad,” he glanced over, “I have a disorder that I was on a lot of pain meds for and then the Drs gave me more shit because I was messed up over my mom. My dad basically ditched and I was not doing well. I had to quit all that shit. I knew I was heading toward a point that you can't come back from. So,” he shrugged, “I dropped the pills. Quit everything and just smoked weed.”

You were silent for a moment. “I see,” you said and it felt like the safest response.

“I started buying it in big qualities. Didn’t want to deal with small-time sellers. Didn’t know where their shit came from or what was in it. Just started selling a bit here and there and pretty quickly it paid for it. And then some.”

“Were you selling to other people who were in pain? Instead of them taking, like, pharmaceuticals?”

“Fuck no,” he scoffed. “Anyone with cash.” He rolled his eyes but it turned into a smile. “I’m done with your questions.”

With one hand, he pushed you abruptly back onto the bed.

“Ivar,” you gasped as he quickly scooped an arm around your waist and yanked you up until you were both laying on the pillows.

Meekly, you tried to resist, but he called bullshit and held your free hand back before pulling you against him and kissing you. His lips felt good, his tongue working its way into your mouth, his knee pushing between your legs. He knew exactly what he was doing pressing his thigh up against your crotch, his hand squeezing your ass, and running down the backs of your thighs.

You were going to stop him. You were. Just a few seconds more of his hot mouth, his amazing taste, and smell that flooded your head warming your body right down to your center. Oh god and the sounds he made. Small grunts like the more he kissed and touched you, the more he realized he wanted.

In one swift movement, he rolled on top, leaning on his elbows, his kisses becoming borderline rough. It was the bulge in his pants grinding against you, your hips rolling up against him that felt way too much. Way, way too much.

“Ivar,” you pulled your mouth back but he simply diverted, sucking on the side of your throat, one of his hands magically arriving at your cleavage and beginning to work on the buttons of your school shirt.

“Ivar, stop,” you said a little louder.

“What?” he asked, glancing up, managing to open two more bottoms with the flick of his fingers. How was he so good at that? Instantly, his hand was inside, squeezing and groping your breasts through your bra.

“This is too fast,” you muttered.

“Not for me,” he puffed, working his mouth back up to yours.

“Ivar, stop,” you turned your chin enough to escape him.

Letting out a resigned sigh, he tilted his head back to better focus on you.

“I don’t even know what is happening between us?” you continued sounding...well... a bit whiny.

“Don’t be childish,” he dismissed.

“I just want.... to take it slow. This is all new.”

“New?” his eyes flashed. “Not for me. I have wanted you since last the summer.”

What, you thought?! Last summer? Seven months ago? This was bewildering, you just met him.  

“I just fucking knew when I saw you,” his face grew serious, and he reached up, brushing your hair back from the side of your face.

“Knew what?”

“I just knew.”

Woah, this was overwhelming. His blue eyes were searching yours and you then understood how sincere he was being and how excoriating it was for him to be like that.

“Can I just... have a minute?”

“No,” he frowned but his features softened and he leaned down and kissed you again. It was a soft kiss, a beautiful kiss, his gorgeous lips pressing against yours, holding still as if pouring out the feeling behind what he had just shared. Dropping his head into the crook of your neck, his arms tightened around you.

“Don’t push me away, okay,” he whispered and you heard the anxiety in his voice.

It melted your heart and gave you some insight as to why he was such a weirdo. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you embraced him back.

“Why are you so.... cool with me sometimes. You’re unsure?”

Shrugging, he lifted back up to see your face but looked away, and you realized he was embarrassed.

“I don’t wanna freak you out. I can be…. a lot.”

No shit!

“Enough of your yapping,’’ he looked back and you could tell the subject had been changed.

“Ivar!” you gasped as his hand shot up your kilt, grabbing the waistband of your blue underwear.

Squirming, you latched onto his wrists to stop him but he clucked his tongue as if you were the one being naughty.

“These can fuck off,” he said yanking your underwear down your legs, slipping them off, along with your black shoes, and tossing everything onto the floor.

Narrowing his eyes at you, he looked wicked and smug and so incredibly sexy and you found yourself just watching, seeing what he’d do. Kissing you one more time, he moved down your body, nestling between your legs, and attempted to push up your kilt. Mouthing the word ‘noooo,’ your hands shot down to hold it against you.

“Move your hands!” he ordered.

“No, wait, this is crazy.”

“Move your hands or I swear to god,” he glared as if insane but it morphed into a grin. “Move your hands!” he barked, this time actually looking a little annoyed.

So, fuck it, you did. You moved your hands and he flipped up your kilt.

Oh god.

Even as your self conscientiousness began to burn, your bare box a mere five inches from his face, the glee that came over him made you laugh. But within a second, some darkness moved behind his blazing eyes and he just stared down at your pussy. Grabbing the back of your thigh, he bent your knee up, opening your legs wider.  

Oh god.

“Can we close the blinds or something? It's so bright in...”

“Shush,” he quieted you not looking up. “I want to see what I’m doing.”

Oh god.

With his free hand, he carefully spread the lips of your pussy, and you looked up to the ceiling, your cheeks hot, unable to watch. It was so weird, your legs instinctively tried to close but he clucked again, pulling them back open.

“Don’t hide from me. Ever,” he whispered and you glanced down just as he looked up at you. “Plus, you said you would go anywhere so I could eat,” he grinned wildly, looking handsome, like a total deviant.

You jumped when his fingers touched you a second time, his fierce eyes watching your face as he began running his thumb over your clit. Fucking hell, it was intense and you had never had a guy just hang out down there, staring at the details of your body. His mouth fell open alittle and you watched curiously as he spread your lips even further, rubbing that same spot that you knew was starting to swell under his soft strokes.

“Do you know how fucking perfect you are?” he asked, glancing up again, his expression looking somehow pained.  “Do you like that?” he kept staring at you, observing your reaction, his thumb gliding over and over. It felt amazing and by the way his head tilted to the side, gazing at your pussy and swearing under his breath, you knew he appreciated how wet you were getting.

“Fuck!” he rushed out loudly, “I could barely sleep last night. I was thinking about you. About kissing you. Everything at the movies. How wet your pussy was. Fuck!” he swore again. “Like it is now.”

His thumb pressed harder, and your stomach flinched making him laugh but he quickly grew serious and without breaking your gaze, he lowered his face, extending his unnaturally long tongue and swiped up the center of your folds. Jesus, it felt good and you glanced at his door noticing there was no lock.  Steadily, his fingers spread you further apart, so wide it almost hurt and he grunted, sounding very pleased, his tongue descending again and licking you, lapping you, feeling warm, circling your clit. Within a few seconds, your hips began to gently rock and your breathing became shaky.

Time was obviously not of the essence as he took his time swapping back and forth between tasting you and running his thumb over your slit and each time you twitched or shuddered, those menacing eyes were back on you, studying your reaction, seeing what made you moan.

“Please,” you heard yourself whimper and it made him chuckle.

“Please what?” he asked, clearly loving it.

“Please,” you whined as his thumb and his intermittent licks began to drive you mad. Your pussy was wide open and needing more.

“You will have to be more specific, beautiful.”

“Please,” you tipped your chin down and looked directly at him. “Make me cum, Ivar, please,” you added the ‘please’ just to make him happy and his eyes flashed.

With that his mouth dropped down to your flesh, sucking your soft layers and clit right into his mouth. He was devouring you and it was raw and wild and the carnal sounds he was making made you imagine him as some beast. The climb to your finish was fast and powerful and when you finally came, all inhibitions were gone, you bucked your pelvis and grabbed his perfect hair, grinding your cunt up against his mouth, incoherently crying out. It was messed up and you had never once felt anything like it before.

“You are so beautiful, baby,” he murmured, kissing the inside of your skin and running the palm of his hand up and down the inside of your thigh. “You are so fucking beautiful. I have wanted this for so long,” he spoke against your skin as you came down from your climax.

As you untensed and simmered, he slid back up beside you, his hand snaking inside your blouse and grabbing your boob.

“You almost made me blow in pants,” he smiled and you just gazed at him, blissed-out, taking in how dreamy he looked.

“Oh shit!” you said, lifting your head, your eyes trying to find a clock.

“What time...”

“Relax,” he tightened his hold on you. “We’ll leave in 15 minutes. Plenty of time.”

Resting your head back down, you closed your eyes loving how much larger his body was than yours and how it felt to be in his arms.

“Plenty of time for what?” you asked, opening your eyes again.

“I’m not done.”

Oh god.

Sitting up, he grabbed you, roughly flipping you onto your tummy, his body quickly covered yours and pressing you down into the bed. It was so fast and you were confused but still too spaced out to speak. Pushing your legs apart, he shifted his weight to one side and flipped up your kilt uncovering your naked ass.

“What....” you rushed out, feeling too exposed. Your bottom, the back of your you-know-what, everything just out in the open.

“Stop fighting me,” he pressed his mouth to your ear. “You have a perfect ass, by the way.”

Fidgeting you realized he was opening and pulling down his pants and panic shot through you.

“Ivar, I can’t...”

“Shush, I’m not going to have sex with you. Relax.”

What was he doing, your mind started to reel? Was he lying? Was he going to try? If you were being honest, part of you wondered if maybe you’d let him. It was crazy.

You jumped, sucking in air when his hand touched the back of your pussy, his fingers rubbing between your lips and around your entrance. As the tips of his fingers dipped inside, the sounds of his approval fired back up. Bracing for it, you were thrown off when his finger didn’t push inside but instead traveled up the crack of your ass, circling around your asshole. Your eyes bugged out at the odd sensation and it hit you what he was doing; he was using your own slick to lube you up. But for what?

“What are you doing?”

Ignoring you he lowered himself back down, his weight feeling heavy, and you felt his hard bare cock land right in the crease of your ass. His elbows settled on either side of you, boxing you in, and just as you were about to tell him to get off, his face and chin burrowed back into the side of your neck. Slowly, he rolled his hips forward, his cock sliding between your cheeks, slippery and hard and feeling so unexpected. Pulling his hips back, he rutted again and his strained breathing showed you he loving it. It was different and hot and the sound of his panting in your ear was such a turn on. Not to mention his intimidatingly large rock-hard dick, touching the back of your entrance.

“All that panic for nothing,” he grunted and you could tell he was smiling. “I just needed to feel your perfect ass.”

It felt good. It felt surprisingly good and without thought you pushed your bum up toward him, immediately making his hiss.

“That’s it, my beautiful girl,” he grunted in your ear, pumping against your behind even harder. “Your little body knows exactly what to do, doesn’t it? Fuck!” he swore as his pace picked up.

Leaning on one arm, he snaked his hand under your tummy, finding your crotch, pulling you up toward him so your butt was at a better angle. Spreading your own legs a little wider, you dug your knees into the bed, arching your back even more. He fucking loved it and made you cry out when his fingers connected with your overly sensitive clit.

“Do you know how badly I want to fuck you? Hmmm? Put my dick inside you. Your beautiful little hole?”

He was moving faster and faster, it was so slippery and wet and you felt filthy because of how much you wanted him, wishing it might just slip and jab you.

“But I’m not going to rush you. I can wait,” he kissed the side of your head, his fingers rubbing your front which was a dripping mess at this point, your own hips moving in time. Everything began to feel funny and you realized you had never, not even once, had two orgasms in a row.

“You’re so wet,” he groaned as his hips moved faster and his fingers pressed harder. His breath grew even more ragged in your ear and everything began to distort. You couldn’t tell how long you’d been under him, grinding, panting, bucking up against him, and starting to whine his name. The air felt thick and your skin felt hot and you wished you were naked instead of your kilt being bunched around you. His arm was securely under you, his fingers slipping relentlessly over your clit, his cock sliding over the back of your pushed up ass. It was all too much and, in that blur, your second organism rolled, rocking you hard and stretching on so long you weren’t clear if it was still going or you were just that sensitive. You couldn’t breathe or think or move and or even make a sound. It was Ivar, crying out into the air above you that drew you back, his hips stuttering against you hard, and then you felt it, a warm pool of cum at the top of your crack.

His body went slack and he flopped down, half on and half beside, his leg and arm still wrapped around you. Catching his breath, he brushed the hair that was sticking to your tacky forehead away to uncover your eyes and pressed a breathy kiss to your lips. You didn’t open your eyes but felt him snuggle in, your faces very close and you guessed he was looking at you.

“I want you to be that person in my life… who….” his voice dropped off as if unable to finish what he wanted to say and you thought you heard him whisper your name. “God,” he continued. “I just want to be with you. So badly.”

Woah……

----

Not once on the short ride back to school did he let go of your hand, even bringing it to his mouth and kissing the back a couple of times. If you had any mental capacity left after your two earth-shattering orgasms and his heart breaking-ly sweet admission, you would have realized that you were in shock. Was it good or bad? It was hard to tell but he was swooning over you, smitten with an entirely different warmth in his eyes.

Kissing him goodbye and swinging the door closed, you walked toward the side entrance of the school, wondering if it was possible to bruise a tail bone and seeing your two best friends, waiting. By their expressions, it was clear they wanted to talk.

Great, you thought, you had to tell them that, like it or not, Ivar Lothbrok was your boyfriend now. And despite your hesitations, you did, you liked it very much.

Next chapter

*Happy Valentines Day❤️

@youbloodymadgenius  @whenimaunicorn @ceridwenofwales   @sweeneythots @funmadnessandbadassvikings @redama @mdredwine@didiintheblog   @londongal2810 @fields-and-fields-of-poppies  @oddsnendsfanfics @youbelongeverywhere @flowers-in-your-hayr @hecohansen31 @naaladareia @gearhead66 @blonddnamedhandz @lisinfleur @geekandbooknerd @xbellaxcarolinax @edythofhastings @ivarsgoddess  @where-beauty-goes-to-die @zuxiezendler @punkrocknpearls @snatcherheart  @lordsexmachine @fuchsiagrasshopper @wilhelmyna @heavenly1927 @cececolbert​ @peachyboneless​

[jetaime-jespere]

Prompt #130/164

130 & 164 fit well together as kind of a “two parter”.

Oh my god! You’re in love with her! Why can’t they see they’re meant for each other?

Despite the image he maintains with relative ease, David Rossi wouldn’t consider himself an expert in love. Far from it, actually. After all, he’s been divorced three times, each one a bit more dramatic than the previous. He’s broken hearts as many times as his own has broken. It’s a relentless cycle that has made him overwhelmingly astute, the kind of wisdom that comes from years of experience.

He’s undoubtedly charming, knows his way around a wine cellar, and can woo even the most jaded of women.

Love, however, is a different story.

But if there’s one thing he prides himself on, it’s calling it when he sees it. As he’s learned over time, love is sometimes inconvenient, usually impractical, and something is always lingering in the shadows to tear it apart. It’s a test of survival, one he’s failed many a time.

Those years of experience are how he comes to the conclusion that Aaron Hotchner is head over heels in love with Emily Prentiss. He’s annoyed at himself for not calling it sooner, for not seeing the signs. Because today was one hell of a sign, and as he walks away from the crime scene, his heart pumps just a little faster, a bead of sweat lingering on his brow. A sign that was just a little too close for his comfort.

They’re in Boston this time, having been called in to catch a killer targeting brunettes in nightclubs. And as day two blends into day three without much more than a tentative profile and preferred location, they have to take a different approach. One Dave should have seen coming.

It’d been Emily’s idea to go under, posing as a potential target, one Aaron disagreed with from the beginning. Dave had watched him shoot her down immediately, an utter disregard that bordered on downright rude in front of half the Boston PD. It wasn’t the curtness of his voice that got his attention, or the way he held up his hand as if to shush her when her mouth opened to question his directive. It wasn’t that. It was concern, maybe even a touch of fear he’d seen in their normally unflappable Unit Chief. He’s met with Emily’s fury, an anger that radiates through her eyes, her arms curling across her chest in defiance.

But they have no other option, because catching a nightclub killer isn’t going to be easy, as Emily reminds him, unwilling to back down. It’s a good plan, she suggests, because she fits the bill and knows the profile.Aaron’s face darkens at the prospect. “He’ll walk right into our trap,” she reasons before it’s almost a done deal, and she changes into the slinky emerald green dress that somehow appears from nowhere.  

Dave has an inkling his reluctance goes beyond more than just simple concern for a subordinate just moments before they leave for the club. When sees her angrily stalking away from him, wearing that green dress that turns every head in the station, her hair fixed and fully made up, he knows there’s something between them. Something that’s been going on for awhile now. Aaron follows behind her, his mouth pressed into an angry line and his jaw set. His eyes don’t even linger on the dress - which suggests he’s seen it on her before. The only question is when that was.

“Disagreement?” Dave attempts with discretion as Emily disappears around a corner, her spine stiff and her shoulders squared.

He says nothing in return, only fastens the FBI vest around his waist, a sign of his defeat.

But as it turns out, in the end, Aaron was right, and Dave isn’t sure he wants to know all the details of just how he finds him bent over their unsub, menacing with a gun in his face less than two hours later. The Boston PD swarms around them too, their own weapons drawn in preparation. Aaron is seething, hissing that it’s over, an expletive falling from his lips.

“Hotch,” is what Dave says evenly, almost pleasantly, because what he recognizes in his face is rage. Rage for the fact that Emily was found with maybe seconds to spare before things went from bad to worse, with two broken ribs, a badly sprained ankle, a fractured cheekbone from being pummeled in the face. “We’ve got him. Go.”

When he escorts their unsub into a police car - a man whose name isn’t even worth uttering - he spies Aaron hovering around the open doors of an ambulance, mere inches away from Emily’s side. She’s bleeding at the knees, her face already swollen, as she’s loaded into the ambulance en route to a Boston hospital. They got lucky tonight, as they often do, but this one carries a little more weight. For more reasons than one.

...

The bar is where he finds Aaron after they get back from the hospital hours later, everyone in just a few more pieces than they’d been when arriving. There’s a drink in his hand and an empty glass beside it, suggesting he’s been here a bit longer than Dave originally thought. The clock on the wall approaches 2 AM.

“Shouldn’t you be with her right now?” He asks, taking the empty stool at his side. “Didn’t think I’d find you here.”

“JJ has it under control,” Aaron says stiffly, clearly not ready to elaborate any further because things are clearly still rocky. “I shouldn’t have ever agreed to send her under.”

“Did you actually think you’d have a choice?” The bartender brings another round for them both, and he nods a quick thanks. “Emily is … well, Emily.”

“I could have taken her off the case. But then I wouldn’t have been objective. What I did was based strictly on my own feelings.” It’s as close a confession as he’ll get out of him, so Dave takes a chance.

“How long have you been seeing each other?”

“Three months,” Aaron says honestly, maybe a bit too forthcoming, but that’s probably the alcohol talking. Has it been that long? Clearly by now, Dave knows their little secret. “She’s a little out of my league, don’t you think?” He scrubs a hand over his eyes, his face lined with exhaustion and stress, the emotional turmoil that comes with nearly losing someone you love.

“My God,” Dave whistles, the whiskey burning his throat and quieting the voice in his head that reminds him just how close she got today. He suddenly wishes he had a cigar. “You’re in love with her,” he adds quietly. It’s a statement, not a question.

Aaron swallows tightly, nods. “Is it that obvious?”

His face cracks into the slightest of grins. “No. I’ve just been around long enough to tell.”

...

The flight home from Boston is uncomfortably quiet. It’s like everyone knows to stay out of Aaron’s way, giving him space once they’ve boarded the plane. He gets on last, staying a safe distance away from Emily, even though he keeps a protective eye on her at all times. She’s on crutches for the next week - the ankle sprain was worse than they’d originally thought, and she curses under her breath as she maneuvers clumsily down the narrow aisle. Whatever went down between them in Boston is clearly still brewing, and Dave is glad they’re all headed to the sanctuary of their own homes. He says a silent prayer for whichever set of neighbors have the good fortune of listening to the argument that will most likely materialize once they’re back in Virginia.

“I’m fine,” Emily says firmly once she’s seated with her foot elevated on the seat across from her, ignoring the sympathetic smiles from Morgan and Reid, their offers to keep her comfortable. “Everyone please stop looking at me like I’m going to break into pieces.” Emily grumbles, clearly exasperated, gripping the armrests as she takes a few steadying deep breaths. From the corner of his eye, Dave watches her pop a pain pill, chase it down with some water, and stare at the ceiling for a few long moments.

Aaron settles not too far away, and it only takes a few minutes before they’re staring daggers at one another, a wordless duel laced with the remnants of previous arguments. It’s palpable, hanging in the air like a cloying smoke. Being in their vicinity finally gets too uncomfortable; he awkwardly shuffles down the aisle a few seats back, finding JJ in one of the seats with a book in her lap. She barely acknowledges him, just a little half smile as she stares at the pages, and it soon becomes painfully obvious she’s not even reading the words.

“You gonna turn the page anytime soon? You’ve been on -” Dave leans over to confirm - “page 177 for the last fifteen minutes.”

“Why can’t they see they’re meant for each other?” JJ mutters under her breath next to him. it’s meant for only him to hear, Dave does a double take, making sure he heard correctly. She catches him immediately, smirking behind her fist. “What? I don’t believe for a second you don’t know about what’s going on between the two of them.

He holds up both hands innocently, hoping it's convincing. “I know nothing.”

“Lie to me again, Rossi, and I’ll ask Strauss why she comes to your office every night when she thinks we’ve all gone home.” JJ snaps the book shut, tossing it to the side. “Now,” she says, lowering her voice. “Tell me what you know.”

[r6shippingdelivery]

I saw someone on Twitter post about how they wanted to see jealous Glaz, and I was struck by inspiration 😄 This fic is mostly about Glaz's perception of his place in Rainbow after Kali joins, and the bit with Fuze can be read as friendship or budding romance, whatever your like better.

WARNING: While Glaz is an unreliable narrator here, and Kali is not outright demonized, I haven't been kind to her either. So if she's your favorite character, proceed with caution.

You can also read the story in AO3, as the latest chapter of the Discord Ficlets collection.

Hatred was a shallow emotion, one that lived at surface level and hid deeper and more complex feelings, ones that people found harder to confront or admit and thus resorted to hate.

Glaz experienced that during his stint in the South Ossetia War, when the hatred they all felt for the enemy was just a cover for their sense of helplessness at stopping so much unnecessary death. As always, art became a way to express and work out his emotions, and from what he saw it was far healthier than drowning his sorrows in alcohol like most of his fellow soldiers did.

Over the years, Glaz had acquired a reputation for being a pretty stable person, not letting his emotions rule him but not burying and ignoring them either. So it was a shock to realise he was letting his emotions rule his opinion of a certain person.

It would be unfair to say he hated Kali. The Nighthaven leader had done nothing directly unpleasant to him, in fact Glaz wasn’t even sure if they ever had a conversation. But fuck, seeing her smug face made his blood boil. Admitting he was jealous was a bitter pill to swallow.

Glaz felt sidelined since she arrived. At first it had been normal that Kali got so much action in training matches and different situations, Harry always did that to ensure new additions got properly integrated in the team. However, Kali stopped being the new one and she kept being requested more and more often. If someone devised a plan that required a sniper, it was always her that got the call, almost never Glaz.

Sure, she was an excellent shot, but so was he. So were the other operators who had marksman training. Yet the only requested sniper was Kali. Even for the strategies that relied heavily on stealth, which made no sense to Glaz since Kali’s rifle was extremely loud and she refused to use a silencer. She insisted it wasn’t compatible with her weapon, which was utter bullshit in Glaz’s opinion. Then there were the snippets of conversations he heard from her in the shooting range.

“Of course I don’t use a thermal scope, that’s a crutch, and those are for beginners, not professionals.”

“I don’t hide behind smoke curtains like a child clinging to their mother’s skirts.”

“I could give you some pointers, you’d benefit by learning from a real sniper, Dokka.”

The gall of that woman! Glaz had never wanted to wipe the floor with someone as much as he did then, but when he approached them to offer a friendly marksman competition, Dokkaebi happily accepted while Kali sniffed and declined. “I’m busy now, maybe another time.”

Glaz silently fumed for days. He didn’t give a damn about Kali’s opinions; he knew he was an excellent sniper and she could make as many snide comments as she wanted. Nothing would change the truth. However, Glaz also had the feeling she was trying to undermine him, and he didn’t like that. Most operators in Rainbow were competitive by nature, but except for a few rivalries, the trash talking had always remained upfront and somewhat respectful, never behind another operator’s back. Things remained as they were, somewhat tense but peaceful, for a long time. Until the Invitational rolled around.

When the teams were publicly announced, the Spetsnaz were collectively surprised some of them were chosen to participate, unlike the previous year. Glaz didn’t mind sitting among the public again, and privately he and Kapkan made a point of keeping an eye out during the event. The White Masks might have been mostly obliterated, but they weren’t the only terrorist group in the world, and a huge gathering like this would be a tempting objective for any group looking to make a name for themselves. So he was fine with not being selected, truly. However, what he wasn’t fine with was the way Harry said one particular thing:

“And to showcase Rainbow’s prowess in long distance combat, team Ash will have our resident sniper, Kali.”

Seriously? The resident sniper, as in the only one? Glaz grit his teeth so hard he was sure everyone in the room could hear it. He refused to say anything, though, he wouldn’t turn this briefing into a spectacle. However, that didn’t stop him from hoping Tachanka would teach her a lesson with his new fire grenades. That would certainly put a smile on Glaz’s face.

Alas, that was not meant to happen, even if it came pretty close to actually becoming a reality. In the end, Tachanka’s team was eliminated, same as Fuze’s, and the tournament went on. Glaz thought nothing else would happen, and aside from secretly hoping for team Mira to win, he largely lost interest in the competition. Yet the competition, or more accurately, Kali, didn’t lose interest in them.

When Fuze told them he’d been invited to train with Nighthaven, none of the Spetsnaz was particularly pleased, since they worked better as a team, but they didn’t voice any objections either. Glaz wanted to, he wanted to forbid Fuze from doing it, but he was a rational man and knew that was both unreasonable and a douchebag move. If Fuze wanted to train with others, he was free to do so, of course. Glaz kept repeating that to himself, even if deep down he was sure that Kali woman wanted to take everything that he had, from his position as a sniper to his friends.

Aware of how childish that sounded, Glaz grimaced at his own thoughts. He needed to calm his mind, and as always, he turned to art. Painting would surely grant him that state of inner peace he sorely needed while waiting for Fuze to come back from his session with Nighthaven. Losing himself in the process of creating something always helped Glaz exorcise his demons, and also lose track of the world around him. At least until Fuze came back.

Most people painted Fuze as unreadable, but he wasn’t to Glaz. The artist could see clear as day that Fuze was deep in thought. The curiosity and need to know was eating Glaz inside.

“How did it go?” He asked, aiming for a casual and carefree tone. He wasn’t sure he succeeded.

“Interesting.” As always, Fuze was succinct and straight to the point, going for the shortest message. However, Glaz knew that if one took the time to shut up and listen, Fuze would say more. “They’re an effective team, very competitive. It’s good to have them working with us and not against us, but I don’t think they feel part of Rainbow.”

It wasn’t the first time Glaz heard before some of those sentiments echoed around when it came to Nighthaven, but Fuze delivered with an admirable lack of judgement. The Uzbek relayed a blow by blow account of the training match, and Glaz wondered how Aruni felt at Kali’s call of her safety being expendable. It was just a game for now, but training built habits that one carried back to the battlefield. He was still pondering over what he heard when Fuze dropped a bombshell that shook him to the core.

“Kali offered me work in Nighthaven.”

Glaz saw red, and for a moment he couldn’t think. The looks in his eyes must have been a veritable maelstrom of repressed anger and jealousy, because Fuze looked taken aback. A burning sensation coiled in his chest, and Glaz clenched his fist hard to avoid unleashing a storm of swears, since Fuze wasn’t the target of his fury.

*crack*

The paint brush he’d been holding broke under the pressure of his clenched hand, but Glaz didn’t notice, and clenched his fist even tighter.

“Timur!”

It was Fuze calling out his name that finally brought Glaz down to earth, away from the dark spiral of what ifs where Fuze left the team, lured away by Kali. He opened his hands, revealing the brush he accidentally snapped in half, and how the jagged edge of the broken wood had sunk into his palm. Oh. He hadn’t even noticed that.

Glaz briefly mourned the loss of his favorite small brush, dropping the pieces aside and wiping the blood from his palm carelessly. “And? Did you accept?”

Fuze regarded him in silence for a few seconds, before shaking his head as if he couldn’t believe Glaz’s foolishness. “Of course not. I have my team. And I’m not going anywhere.” This assurance was a balm for Glaz’s turmoil, but then Fuze added with a smirk. “Besides, I know you always have my back and won’t put a bullet in me, not even a fake one.”

The laugh and lingering look they shared made Glaz feel that all was right in the world, at least for a little while. He knew he could always count on his team, on his friends, and having this belief reaffirmed soothed him like nothing else did. It had been foolish to think Fuze would leave him.

[nordens-lejon]

Pervitin and Skis

Sufin oneshot I wrote last night.

During WW2, Timo finds himself in the hospital after an accident. Berwald comes to visit him. Based on a true story.

7 April 1944

Timo had never imagined he’d be grateful to find himself in a hospital. But then again, he’d never expected to find himself spending a week in a snow-filled ditch with one calf reduced to mincemeat. A lumpy hospital bed felt like heaven compared to that. The bed was warm and clean, and he could sleep as much as he wanted. The nurses fed him spoonfuls of broth and mashed potatoes. Small portions, so as not to upset his stomach after two weeks without proper food.

The hospital had given Timo a private room, which had annoyed him at first. He’d been fighting with the other soldiers, so sure it was only fair that he got the same treatment as the humans in the military ward. The doctors said it was an attempt to keep the gossip down, and on some level, Timo understood that. The personification of Finland injured and hospitalized? Oh, the Soviets would have a propaganda field day with that.

Someone knocked. That was odd -- the doctors and nurses were coming in whether he liked it or not. Timo thought it might be the timid new orderly, but it was a tall, thin man in an ill-fitting gray suit, messenger bag at his side. A sickly-looking mustache perched on his upper lip.

“Sve!” Timo tried to sit up, but he got nowhere and it only made his stitches hurt. Sure, Berwald was dressed like he’d lost all vestige of fashion sense, but it was him nonetheless. “Oh, I must look horrid, but I never thought…”

“Shhhhh.” It came out as a sharp hiss, but Berwald quietly crossed the room and pulled a chair to the bedside.

“How did you get in?” Timo whispered. He held out a hand, and Berwald immediately took it. “They don’t want anyone to know I’m here. And aren’t you still technically neutral in the war? What if the Soviets find out that you visited? It’ll look like you’re taking sides.”

“The Soviets won’t find out.” Berwald ran his thumb over the back of Timo’s hand. “I set a trail. They think I’m in Malmo. As for the Finns,” he pulled out a badge and a bundle of documents, “I got papers. They think your boss sent me.” The print of the badge was just big enough for Timo to catch the words Director of Cadaver Gynecology.

“So that’s why you grew this.” Timo wiggled his hand free and reached for the mustache.

“Yeah.” Berwald gently pushed Timo back against the pillows with one big hand.

“It’s hideous. I hate it.”

“Sorry.”

“You needed a disguise, I get that, but holy Martin Luther, please shave that thing as soon as you can and never grow it out again. Maybe you should get a wig next time, because with that thing on your face, I can almost imagine myself turning down a kiss. Almost. Just maybe.”

Berwald’s eye sparkled and he pressed a kiss to Timo’s knuckles.

“Oh, you sap. You’re hopeless.” Timo chuckled in spite of himself.

“I am.”

“Of course you are. So you found out I’m here. Something must’ve leaked. What did you hear? They told me they don’t want the story to blow up. There’s the Soviets, and besides, it could hurt national morale.”

Berwald blinked. “They didn’t tell you? It’s been in the papers.”

“The papers?” Timo felt his stomach drop, and he slumped a little. Oh, if this hurt the Finnish war effort, he’d never live it down. “Perkele. What did they say?”

“That you were with your combat unit in Saami territory. On skis. And you took thirty doses of Pervitin.”

“It was an accident!” The words came out louder than anticipated. Berwald would believe him, of course, but he still felt some urge to defend his honor to the universe. “I’d never even taken Pervitin before!” He’d always been wary of those German-made pep pills. Chemists said they contained methamphetamine. “I only took it because I was so tired I was on the verge of passing out. There were Soviets on our tail! And I meant to take one, not thirty. I’d like to see you-- or anyone -- get one pill out of those tiny little tubes while wearing mittens. So I tried to, y’know, just pour one into my mouth.”

“Shhh, it’s okay.” Berwald reached forward and began stroking Timo’s hair.

“And I just, before I knew it, I’d downed the whole tube.” Timo swallowed and took a minute to take a deep breath and enjoy Berwald’s touch. It reminded him of easier, happier times. “Sorry. But please, don’t stop.”

“Mmm. I won’t. But go on.”

“Go on?”

“What happened next?”

“Oh.” Timo paused. “Well, I… I don’t remember much of it. It felt amazing, at first. Ecstatic. Like I’d been born a new man, with more energy than I’d ever had in my life. And then, it got to be too much, I started shaking. I thought I’d blacked out, but it turned out that I’d just kept skiing. I, I think I crashed through a Soviet camp, and they shot at me, but the doctors didn’t find any bullet wounds. Maybe I hallucinated it. But then, I came to my senses, or really, I came down enough to realize that I’d completely lost my unit, and I was all alone in the snowy forest. But there was so much energy in me that I felt compelled to keep going. To find someone. Anyone.”

Berwald’s brow furrowed. “How long had it been at that point?”

Timo shrugged. “I don’t know. A few days.”

“Did you stop to eat or sleep?”

“Sleep. I doubt it. Eat, no. I lost my supply pack.”

“No wonder you’re so thin.” Berwald ran a thumb along Timo’s cheekbones, which had never been visible before. “I don’t like it.”

“Not planning on staying this way, don’t you worry.” Timo managed a smile. He didn’t want to add that his once-portly body weighed only forty-one kilograms upon admission to hospital. That number would only make Berwald worry -- he was too fond of seeing Timo pampered and plump. “Anyway, not too long after that, I stepped on a landmine.”

“A landmine?”

“Yeah.” Timo gestured to his elevated right leg. The cast covered a mess of stitches and surgical pins. “The blast threw me right off my feet, blew out one of my eardrums, and my legs was, well, I remember this awful mess of blood and bone.”

“Christ almighty.”

“Yeah...I guess. I was still so high that I didn’t feel any pain, at least not at first. But I remember lying there in a ditch with my ears ringing. And I thought that this must be the end of my journey. Some hours passed, and nothing happened. So I figured I might live long enough for someone to find me, so I crawled to this sort of, well, dugout, and waited some more. And nobody came. Eventually, the Pervitin wore off enough that I could feel hunger. I could drag myself to a pine tree and I ate some pine buds. A jay landed on my hand, so I ate that too. I ate snow. Sorry,” he added, seeing the horrified look on Berwald’s face.

“Don’t be sorry. I want to know.” There was a pause “And I want to take you home right now and take care of you forever,” Berwald was flushing, as if he’d already said more than he’d intended, “but that, that’s beside the point.”

That was more than enough to warm Timo’s heart. “Maybe you can, if your disguise holds. I don’t think they’re going to let me back to the front.” Inherently, he was ashamed of that. Going back before the end of the war felt like quitting on his people. “There’s talk about sending me to Helsinki. I’m going to need crutches for a while. And physical therapy. But if you can keep up as Director of Cadaver Gynecology, maybe you can stay with me. At least for a little while.”

“Yes, maybe.” Berwald swallowed. “I’ll see what I can do.”

The prospect of Berwald in Helsinki might not take away the shame, Timo realized, but it did make the thought of a long convalescence a lot more bearable. “Thanks, big guy.” Almost suddenly, a wave of exhaustion swept over him. This talking was the most exertion he’d done since he’d been admitted.

“It’s nothing,” Berwald said. Another small pause. “You didn’t finish.”

“Finish what?”

“The story. You stopped with eating snow in a ditch.”

“Oh, right.” Timo fought back a yawn. “I walked.”

“You what?”

“Walked. One night, I could see light through the trees, and I don’t know, I guess I was desperate enough that I got up and dragged myself over to them.”

“With your leg like…” Berwald pointed.

“Well, of course. But I made it to their camp, and I was so beat up, that I think I scared them, the poor humans. They called for an ambulance, and they brought me here.” And that,” this time, Timo couldn’t hold back the yawn, “is how I got myself into this whole embarrassing mess.”

“Embarrassing? Never mind, I should let you sleep.”

“Wait, don’t go!” Timo took Berwald’s wrist. “Not just yet. A few more minutes. And yes, of course it’s embarrassing. All this trouble because I couldn’t pick up a pill.”

Berwald set his jaw and kept silent for a moment. “I can’t say how you should feel, but the story’s earned your people’s admiration”

“Wait, what?” This was so surprising, Timo almost forgot how sick and tired he was. “What do you mean, admiration?”

“You’re still here, aren’t you? Yes, you made a mistake, but you’re still here. Thirty doses of Pervitin and two weeks in the woods would’ve killed lesser men. Men who aren’t as tough as Finns. I mean,” Berwald reached down for his messenger bag. “Plenty of your people have sent you cards and letters. Wishing you well, I’m guessing. Haven’t opened any.”

“Those are letters? What? Where did you get those?” Timo watched as Berwald opened the bag, revealing a heap of envelopes.

“Your public PO box. In Helsinki.”

“Right, forgot I gave you a spare key.” The envelopes were mostly white, with occasional blue and pink mixed in. And there were so many of them. Maybe some of them were admonishing him for his stupidity and carelessness, but if even a few were wishing him an easy recovery, well, it was a small consolation, but he felt better. “Do you think you can open one? Read one to me? Do you remember your Finnish?”

“Of course I remember Finnish.” Berwald cupped Timo’s cheek, then picked an envelope from the top of the pile and tore it open. Inside was a generic get-well card with a picture of teddy bear, but somehow, the mass-produced kitsch made it charming. “How ‘bout you get some rest? I’ll read while you settle down to sleep.”

Oh, wasn’t that right in the money. Timo sank back against the pillows and closed heavy eyelids. Lumpy hospital bed heaven was even better with Berwald by his side.

“Dear Mr. Finland,” Berwald began, “I was shocked to hear news of your accident, but I must say that I have never heard a more remarkable story of survival. That’s truly the Finnish spirit, isn’t it? Carrying on and making do in spite of the odds. You’ve reminded me of...”

Berwald’s voice was lovely and soothing, but that was all he heard before sleep claimed him, heavy, comfortable, and reassuring.

Closing notes: For anyone who’s unfamiliar, Pervitin was an methamphetamine-based performance-enhancing drug that was developed by the Germans, who proceeded to give it out to their troops like it was candy. Timo’s story here is based on that of Aimo Koivunen, a Finnish soldier who accidentally took 30 doses of Pervitin, spent two weeks in the woods, stepped on a landmine and lived to tell the tale. He made a full recovery and lived to the age of 72. You can read Koivunen’s story in his own words here.

[trashforhockeyguys]

Days Gone Silent - Jeff Skinner

Part two to Days Gone Quiet.

A/N: So, pregnancy, mentions of a possible miscarriage, trip to the hospital. If any of those things make you uncomfortable, maybe don’t read. 

A whopping 6.6K, but I’m honestly very proud of this story. I’m proud of how this story is. I’m proud of the character growth.

Two pink lines. That was all you could see. Those two stupid lines. Seemed ironic to you that there happened to be a vicious thunderstorm outside. Each clap made you jump, but it was those two lines that made you feel sick. Those two lines….they weren’t what you wanted. 

Your hands shook as you tried to get a grip on yourself. You had to meet Jason in twenty minutes. You were going to the Sabers game tonight. You almost wanted to laugh. This wasn’t supposed to be your life. 

You pulled at your hair for a moment. This was not how your twenties were meant to go. You shook your head and pushed away from the counter before throwing the test in the trash. You could push it out of your mind for one night. 

You arrived at the arena later than planned. Still, you didn’t rush to your seat. You didn’t run to meet Jason. Instead you slowly walked up to your level. Jason liked the higher levels because he could see more. Plus he liked it when you were able to explain the plays to him.

“You’re late. Nearly missed half of the period,” Jason announced when you sat down next to him. 

“Sorry…” You trailed off, scanning the bench even though you knew he wouldn’t be on it, “Um. Yeah, sorry. There was traffic.”

“You okay?” Jason asked.

You nodded slowly. You knew he wasn’t on the ice, he hadn’t been cleared yet. But you knew him well enough to know that he was in the arena. He was here. You hadn’t seen or spoken to him since you left his apartment nearly two months ago...but he was here.

It was half way through the first intermission before you spoke again, “I’m pregnant.”

“Oh..wow..” He blew out a deep breath, “Well, at least we know I’m not the dad.”

“Jason.”

He studied your face before looking back at the ice, realization seeming to hit him like a truck, “Oh shit. It’s his.”

“Well...that’s the only option.”

You scratched at your neck and tried not to keep looking for him. You felt sick, but a different kind of sick. You tried so hard not to think about it. Or to think about the argument that ruined your once perfect relationship with the one man you loved more than anything. 

The engagement ended, mere months before the wedding, because of one simple thing- you didn’t want kids.

You’d never been that person that saw yourself having children. Never thought about being a mother. You loved kids, always swore you’d be the best godmother and aunt, but never mother. That’s what ended it. He wanted them, so desperately, and you didn’t. He knew that it was one thing you wouldn’t waiver on. You would bend when it came to so much, but this was one thing you were going to stand firm on. 

You could still remember the way he looked at the spare bedroom, telling you that he thought that it would one day become a nursery. You remembered the hurt that fell across his face when you made it abundantly clear that it would never happen. 

“Okay...So you call him and tell him,” Jason shrugged, “He’s a good guy, he’ll take care of you.”

“You don’t get it Jase,” You sighed, “I never wanted this. He’s always been the one that wanted kids, I never ever wanted to be a mom.”

“We’ll, there’s option 2,” He said almost grimly.

“No…” You shook your head, “I need to tell him. I might hate it...but damnit he has a say in this.”

You tugged on your hair and tried to figure out how you were supposed to tell him. It had been nearly two months since you talked last. You were the one who left this time. You doubted you could just call him out of the blue. You knew you couldn’t just spring it on him, even though that’s all you wanted to do. You wanted to just rip off the bandaid, tell him and get it over with. Figure out how you were meant to move on from this.

“Or maybe I just don’t tell him.”

“Y/N, you know you can’t do that.”

“I know...I just-” You took a deep breath and tried to push down the feeling, “We didn’t get married because I didn’t want kids. And then when he got hurt we kind of found our way back to each other, until we both slipped and now there’s a fucking baby.”

Jason grabbed your hand, trying to calm you down as best as he could. He might not have known you as long as Jeff had, but he knew when you were stressed. And this….this was more than stress. 

Meanwhile, across the rink, Jeff could see you from the box the team put him in. He was off his crutches, and was allowed to skate again, but hadn’t been fully cleared to play. He thought about calling you since you left his apartment. He wanted to have you back in his life, but he also knew you’d run if he tried. But he missed you. He missed the late nights and the quiet mornings spent in bed. He wished there would've been a way that the two of you could’ve worked it out. It had only taken him a couple of weeks after the entail breakup to realize he didn’t want to live his life without you, but the damage had already been done and he didn’t know how to reverse any of it.

He could see you clutching onto another man, he was pretty sure it was that guy you’d told him about. A blind date that turned into a great friendship. He tried not to be jealous of the way you leaned into the guy, the way you seemed to cling to him. Jeff knew he had no right to those feelings.  

But he still felt like you were his forever...even if he knew that wasn’t going to happen now.

It was nearly a week later when you walked out of the office, a small stack of pictures in your hand. It was a little blob, barely more than a blip on the paper, but it was there. You were nearly out of the first trimester. It was real now.

You took several deep breaths as you walked through downtown. This was really happening, there was nothing you could really do about it. There was going to be a baby. You tried to imagine what your life was going to look like now. Your apartment was big enough for now. But the thought of moving back home to be closer to your family sounded nice, just so you could have help. You weren’t sure how you were even meant to raise a child. 

You found yourself pulling your jacket in closer. The cold wind caused you to shiver. You knew you needed to call Jeff….whatever happened, he deserved to know. Especially when he was the one who always wanted this life. He wanted the white picket fence and swingsets. 

“Y/N!”

You looked up to see Jack just a few feet away from you. Startled, you dropped the small stack of black and white photos. You jumped, realizing he was moving to pick them up. He got to them before you could fully tell your body to grab them first. You could see the emotions fly across his face before he handed them back to you. 

“Do you want to go get some lunch?” He asked, taking you by surprise. 

You let out a deep breath before nodding, “Yeah...lunch would be good.”

So the two of you landed at a table in the corner of the restaurant he brought you to. You knew Jack wouldn’t bombard you with questions, but you knew he had them. He, like the rest of the team, knew you were living with Jeff while he was getting back on his feet, literally. It wouldn’t take much to try to put two and two together. 

“So..are you okay?” 

You weren’t expecting that to be the first thing he asked you. Jack, the sweet man that you and Jeff both befriended not long after coming to Buffalo. The man that was there for Jeff after the breakup, who let him crash on his couch more than enough times. The one who would still like and comment on all of your posts, especially when you got a massive promotion. He was sitting there like nothing ever changed, like you hadn’t forced all of them to choose Jeff. 

“I um-” You shook your head slightly, “I don’t think so. Not this time.”

He reached his hand across the table and gently grabbed yours, “I’ll be here, if you need a friend.”

“You’re not even going to ask?” I questioned, “You don’t care who’s it is?”

“I didn’t think I had to ask. He was pretty forthcoming with the details of those weeks.”

“I didn’t- I hurt him again. Again and again and again, that’s all I do.”

Jack shrugged, “You two are fire and ice, but somehow I don’t think either of you mind in the moment. It’s when you leave each other again that the pain sets in.”

You shook your head, “We broke it all off for a reason. Seems like the universe didn’t care. I missed a couple of pills, and now…”

“It happens.”

“Not to me, it doesn’t. But...here I am anyway.”

“And you haven’t told him yet?” His tone was cautious, he didn’t want to overstep. 

“You would’ve known if I had. Just not sure how to…”

He smiled softly and squeezed your hand, “It’s Jeff, he’ll be alright.”

And so that night you found yourself outside of Jeff’s apartment. You bounced on your feet and tried to gather enough courage to knock on his door. Your stomach twisted, you weren’t sure if it was because of the morning sickness that took hold of you all hours of the day, or if it was your own fear.

You were sure you looked awful. You’d spent the last couple of hours throwing up. It seemed the thing inside you didn’t appreciate the lunch you’d eaten with Jack. Although, there was little that that tiny little blip did like. 

You raised your hand and gently knocked on the door. So gently, you wondered if he even heard it. But then you could hear the scuffle from the otherside of the door, maybe even some laughing. 

His face was flushed, a careless smile was spread across his face. His shirt was half unbuttoned and you could smell the cheap perfume, it was enough to make you want to vomit all over again. 

“Y/N,” He looked as if he’d been hit. 

“Hey come back, I’m lonely,” The female voice called from somewhere inside. 

You were stunned. You felt cornered. I could feel myself backing away, trying to make a quick escape but my body wouldn’t let me. As much as I wanted to run, my legs were stuck.

“I’m sorry...I-” You couldn’t finish before the smell of that perfume became too much. You turned and ran as fast as you could, until you were outside and the cold crisp air hit you. But even then, you found yourself hunched over the nearest trashcan as the heaving began. You wanted all of this to just be over already. The sickness and the feeling like the world was going to cave in on you. You wanted to feel happy like so many other moms. But you were scared. Only scared. 

“Y/N?” 

Next thing you knew, you could feel someone pulling your hair back out of your face. The wind stinging as it hit the warm tears that were falling. You hated getting sick. But you hated whatever was going on upstairs even more. 

He still smelled like her, of course he would. You knew Jeff, he likely just bolted after you as soon as you ran, leaving her alone. Once you composed yourself enough you tried to put enough distance between you two. Knowing if you got closer it would all just start again. 

“Just...stay there.”

“What’s going on? Are you okay?” He was panicked.

“You should-” You took another deep breath of the cold air to try and clear your lungs, “You should go back. You’re busy.”

“Fuck that,” He snapped, “What’s going on with you? You show up and then just bolt?”

“Seriously, unless you want me to start throwing up again...you should go back inside.”

“What the hell Y/N?”

“It’s the perfume, okay. I can’t- the smell makes me sick.”

He laughed almost coldly. You hadn’t seen this side of him since the night you broke things off. He was angry, he had every right to be. 

“Then maybe you should have called before you just showed up here for nothing,” His tone made you take a step back, “Obviously I was preoccupied. So I think I will go back upstairs.”

“I’m-” Your voice was so small as he turned and took a few steps, “Jeffy.”

He turned at the sound of your voice breaking, “Jeff...I’m pregnant.”

He went quiet and unmoving. Your hands were clenched at your side, not anywhere near your stomach, where the ghost of a bump was starting to form. Yet, his eyes drifted there anyway. You wished you knew what he was thinking. You almost wanted to laugh at how cruel all of this seemed. You and Jeff would’ve been happily married by now, living in the house with the white fence, and this wouldn’t have been such a shock. 

“I should-” He took a deep breath, still looking at your stomach, “I should go tell her to leave.”

“Jeff.”

“You can wait outside the door if you want,” He said, “I’ll change too.”

“Jeff.”

“Isn’t that way you came then?” He asked, turning back towards you, “To talk about this? To talk options.”

“I thought-you aren’t mad?”

“Jesus. No. We weren’t exactly the most sensible during those months. Not that I expected this, or wanted this for you. But...how are you?”

You weren’t sure how to answer. Too much was going on inside your head. You had no idea how you were, “I don’t know. I’m...I’m pregnant. I don’t know.” 

“How?” He took a deep breath, “How far along?”

“Far enough,” You stated. 

You could see him trying to do the math. He’d always been attentive. When you were still together he knew when to expect your period, and knew when you were late. You often wondered if he didn’t have it marked in his calendar so he’d know what to expect from you.

“Sometime either right before or not long after I left,” You answered the question you knew he was silently asking. 

“Give me five minutes, you can wait in the lobby if you want.”

“No, it’s okay...We can talk tomorrow,” You said, a weird sense of guilt washing over you. 

His face changed, something seemed to shift within him, “I turned you out into the cold once, Y/N,” He stated sadly, “I refused to listen. I won’t make that mistake again. So...please.”

You nodded slowly, knowing this was something the both of you needed to do tonight. Before either of you lost courage, or somehow decided this wasn’t a good idea at all. So you slowly followed him back inside, letting the warmth of the building overtake you. But rather than waiting in the lobby, you opted for the small sitting area at the other end of his floor, far enough away from his door that his friend wouldn’t see you. It seemed odd to you that you felt a pang of jealousy in your chest, he wasn’t yours anymore. 

Having his child didn’t change anything. You weren’t together. Even after all of the years you spent sleeping next to him, you had no claim to him anymore. Not after you walked out on him again. 

“You’re still here,” Jeff said a few minutes later, seemingly stunned by the fact you were right where he left you. 

“I told you I wouldn’t go anywhere,” You whispered, “But I guess I don’t blame you. I’m not always the best at keeping promises.”

He let out a small laugh, like it was meant to cover up the pain you knew you caused him, “I put a kettle on. You can still have tea, right?”

“I don’t think it’ll kill me.”

The apartment smelled clean, like he’d opened windows to air it back out. The pillows on the couch, which you were sure had been thrown, were back where they belonged. If you didn’t know any better you would’ve thought he’d just come home from a road trip and the apartment was cleaned while he was away.

“How are you, really?” He asked you. 

You sighed and started to play with your fingers, “Sick all of the time, and achy. I get these horrible headaches too, sometimes they’re so bad it’s hard to move,” You explained to him, “And I’m tired. God, I’m always so tired. Little thing is zapping everything out of me I guess.”

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” You could hear the guilt in his voice without even looking up, “I know this isn’t what you wanted. I’m sorry.”

You tried not to think back to the night your engagement ended. How different this conversation was to the one had that night. It seemed almost funny to you how different both of you had become since then. Both of you grew, but you had to grow apart in some ways. 

“You’re right….I didn’t want this,” You said softly, almost a whisper, “I never saw myself with kids. And to be honest I’m still not sure that I do see myself with them. But this is happening Jeff. And I haven’t really let myself think about it, but...I think I could want this.”

You tried to force down the wave of feelings that was building, “I never wanted the picket fence and swingsets and stepping on Legos all the time...and there’s still a big part of me that’s terrified of what’s coming. But then there are other days, when I’m in bed alone at night, or during the day when it’s quiet, that I just feel… I don’t know really. But I can see the picket fence, and the dirty diapers, and the little mighty mite hockey games down the road. And I think I’m excited, and happy. But I don’t know how to be, because I hurt you when I said I’d never want this, and now I-”

“Shh,” He pulled you into his chest, holding you as tightly as he dared to, “This is happening, it doesn’t matter anymore. If you want the picket fence then we’ll figure out a way to get that life back. But you won’t be doing any of it alone.”

“I don’t want you to feel like you have to do anything Jeff,” You admitted, “I don’t want you to feel like I’ve trapped you.”

He nearly laughed and gently grabbed your hands, “Funny, last year you were saying I was the one trapping you.”

“Jeffy-”

“Believe it or not, I’ve been hoping you’d come back since the second you left. This is just a little extra,” He shrugged like it was no big deal, “We’re in this together now. Now drink your tea, you look like you need it.”

“You bought more of this?” You said after taking a sip of the tea that you’d been drinking for years. 

His back was to you as he fixed a cup for himself, “Like I said, I kept hoping you’d come back.”

Your chest hurt. He didn’t seem to miss you all that much, but you knew he wouldn’t lie about something like that. One thing about Jeff was the fact that he had his heart on his sleeve, always had. From the moment you met him during his rookie year, you knew that. You tried not to let tears burst forward. Now was not the time for that. 

“I’m-” You swallowed the large lump in your throat, a hand wandered down to your stomach, “I’m sorry I took so long.”

“You look like you’re about ready to drop,” He stated, “You’re free to steal some of my clothes and make yourself at home. I don’t want to send you back out into this snow, it’ll only get worse.” 

You nodded slowly and made your way to his room once you finished your tea. Not much had changed in the short time since you’d last been in here, other than the fact that he’d replaced the bedspread like you suggested to him. 

For a second you allowed yourself to close your eyes and see the life he could obviously see so clearly. For as long as you could remember, your future never looked clear to you. You couldn’t see things the way he could, you only saw yourself as you were in that moment. 

Yet, you could almost see the two of you cuddling a small baby. You could see him teaching them how to skate when they were old enough. Maybe in a couple of years, you could have another. He always wanted more than one, you knew that. 

You pulled out a pair of sweatpants from one of his drawers, you knew normally they’d be too big, but you were already starting to put on some extra weight. You pulled your sweater over your head, catching sight of your reflection on the mirror that hung on the back of his closet door. 

You didn’t look pregnant, and aside from being unbelievably sick half of the time, you didn’t feel pregnant. Yet, even still, there was the smallest swell of your stomach, to anyone else it would just look like you were bloated. Had too much bread, or ate too much and had a food baby. But you knew...you knew. 

You stepped closer to the mirror, dropping your sweater on the bed. You hadn’t really allowed yourself to really think about any of it. You blocked out most of your doctor’s appointment, all you had to know was that the baby was healthy. The rest just sort of got blurred out.

So you stood, sideways so you could really get a look. You knew it would get bigger in the coming weeks. You wouldn’t be able to hide it anymore, everyone at work would know. You’d have to call and tell your family for sure, and Jeff….he would have to tell his family too. 

You were going to have his baby. For better or worse, you two would be parents. 

“Do you want any-” Jeff fell silent at the sight of you gently holding your stomach. 

You didn’t move, as if you didn’t even hear him. He leaned against the doorframe and watched you. Your eyes were glued to your reflection, so deep in thought you had no idea of your surroundings. He knew you didn’t want kids, but he also knew you’d be an amazing mom. He’d known that for years, he remembered watching you with his teammate’s babies over the years, and just how wonderful you were with them. He never would’ve forced you to have a family, but he couldn’t wait to see you with this child. 

He knew you were scared, hell he was terrified. He didn’t know how to be a dad, he didn’t know the first thing about pregnancy, or what the two of you were going to be once this was all over. But he knew he was excited to be a dad. He might not have been ready, and this wasn’t how he planned it all to be, but he was ready.

He took a step towards you when he noticed your shoulders started shaking as you fought off tears. He wouldn’t pretend to know what was going on inside your head, but he knew that you needed him. Even if you wouldn’t admit it, you needed him. 

“I’ve got you,” He pulled you into his chest, not even skipping a beat. 

“I’m pregnant,” You finally felt the full force of the situation hitting you. 

You were going to be a mom. This wasn’t something you could avoid, you were having a baby. You were responsible for a human life. Your body shook against his as you cried. You couldn’t figure out if you were happy now or not. As much as you never wanted a child, you did want this. You wanted the picket fence life with Jeff. You wanted this baby that was growing within you. The little blob on the pictures. The blob that was changing your life already. 

“Jeffy, we’re having a baby,” You sobbed.

He held you, not quite knowing if he needed to try to calm you down, or cry with you. He carefully pushed you back towards the bed and pulled you into his lap. Without even realizing it, you grabbed his hand and put it on your stomach. His touch was calming to you, always had been. 

He was one of the only people who could calm you down during the worst storms...this was another storm. Just a different kind of storm.

Two weeks later, you were splitting your time between your apartment and Jeff’s. He wanted to spend as much time with you as he could. There were very distinct lines that had been drawn, and the two of you tried desperately not to cross them. For the sake of your baby, you tried not to toe them, tried not to be anything but friends with him. But you wanted to be close to him all of the time. 

Keeping distance when his teammates were around though, was hard. Jack knew, not only because you told him, but because Jeff did as well. As for your families, you didn’t yet know how you were supposed to do that. You weren’t sure how either of your families were going to react to the news. But you’d worry about that later.

Because right now you and Jeff were curled up in his bed, his hand resting on your belly, which was slowly getting bigger. You were almost to the point where you couldn’t hide it anymore. Your larger sweaters were almost too small. The thought almost excited you, you felt like you were ready to show off. 

Jeff was fast asleep next to you, but didn’t dare to let go of you. This was how it was when you stayed with him. You couldn’t deny that you felt safer in his arms, you always had. You slept better too.

It was a sharp pain that ripped you from your peaceful sleep. You let out a cry as it ripped through you again. Jeff was sitting up in an instant, reaching over to turn on the lamp on the nightstand. You nearly screamed when you moved the blankets away and saw red. No sound would come out though, only tears as you couldn’t take your eyes off from it. 

Jeff was moving as soon as he saw it. He tugged on a shirt and grabbed an extra pair of pants for you, the thickest pair of sweatpants that he owned, and a sweatshirt. You barely moved as he carefully put them both onto you, all you could do was hold your stomach. 

“It’s too much,” You mumbled, almost in a trance, “Jeff there’s...it’s too much blood.”

“Shh,” He tried to quell your fears, and tried to force down his own, “We’re going to get you to the hospital okay? It’s going to be fine.”

But how could it be when you could practically feel that perfect life slipping away from you. Bit by bit, you could see it all falling away. You said nothing as he drove you to the nearest hospital. You only cried and winced with each new bit of pain. You knew what this meant...you knew it was over.

Jeff tried to reach over for your hand, if only to try to comfort you and make sure that you knew you weren’t alone. But you shied away from him. He would blame you for this. You didn’t want the baby in the first place, surely this was your fault somehow. 

You felt almost numb.

You fell asleep shortly after the doctors finished running tests. They were able to stop the bleeding, but didn’t yet know what your condition was. All you could do was sleep. Jeff was pacing in the halls, having been asked to wait until the doctors were done with you. He’d been promised a nurse would come for him, but he just wanted to be by your side. He promised you wouldn’t be in this alone, and he felt like he was abandoning you. 

He wanted to call his parents and beg for help, but they didn’t know. Most of the team didn’t know. Neither did your family. The two of you were alone in this for now. He was alone in this...and you were alone. For as long as they kept him away. 

“Mr. Skinner?”

Jeff’s movements stopped as he saw the doctor coming towards him. His breath halted, he knew just as well as you did what the outcome was going to be. Even he knew that was too much blood no matter the stage you were in. You were past the point where spotting was normal, and that was far from spotting. 

He tried to brace himself, he tried to come to peace with it. Even if it was only so that he could be strong for you. He knew you were excited, you wanted to take daily pictures of your growing bump so that you could show them off when the time came. You’d been so excited to find out what you were having at your next appointment, and made Jeff swear he’d be there. As if he would miss that appointment for the world. He caught you looking at nursery ideas on Pinterest. He knew you were ready for this now. And just as you’d come to terms with it, and allowed yourself to be excited about the baby, it was taken from you. 

“We stopped the bleeding, we’re still working to find the cause of it. But we’d like to keep them here at least overnight, so that we’ll be able to monitor both mom and baby,” The doctor explained. 

Jeff’s knees threatened to give out, “Both of them?” He tried not to hope. God did he try, but all he could do was think that maybe it wasn’t all gone. 

“The baby is fine, Mr. Skinner, as is Miss Y/L/N. We have her on fluids and we’ve given her some blood, but we’ll continue to run tests to find the cause,” The doctor paused when they truly saw the look on Jeff’s face and gently put a hand on his shoulder, “Your baby is just fine. Trying to kick up a storm by the looks of the last ultrasound.”

“They’re both okay?” Tears finally fell from Jeff’s eyes. He wasn’t able to hold them back any longer. He tried to prepare himself for the heartbreak that he thought was going to come, but he never considered that he might find relief by the end of the night, “They’re okay?”

The doctor smiled softly and nodded, “I’ll take you to her room. She’s asleep, but I’m sure you’d like to be there when she wakes up.”

Jeff sat by your side for hours, constantly looking over to the fetal heart monitor. Sometimes his hand would rest over your stomach, he couldn’t feel the baby but he knew it was there. That was enough for him. You began to stir quite a few hours later. Jeff was exhausted, but knew he needed to be awake when you finally came around. 

He sat straight up and held onto your hand tightly. You started silently crying almost instantly, thinking the worst had come to pass. 

“I’m sorry,” Your voice, though not above a whisper, broke. 

“Shh, you’re okay,” He kissed your hand, “Love, you’re both okay.”

At that exact moment, one of the doctors came in, rolling a large screen attached to a machine in with her. Your confusion didn’t go away as you addressed the room. You were hooked up to double the monitors, but that shouldn’t be the case. 

“Alright, time to check on how you’re both doing,” The doctor announced, “And, this time you’ll both get to see your baby.”

“I don’t understand I-” 

Jeff kissed your hand again, eyes brimmed with tears, “You’re both okay, Y/N. The baby is okay.”

You were released three days later. The second you got back into Jeff’s apartment you went to the couch. You’d been placed on bedrest, for the sake of you and your baby. You weren’t thrilled about it. It meant you had to be relieved from work for the time being, and you wouldn’t be able to go to any games or really go anywhere at all. But your baby was fine, healthy even. 

“She’s a fighter, like her mom,” Jeff said, catching you looking down at your belly. 

“She scared the living hell out of us,” You replied, “Listen here little miss, don’t do that again for a long time. You need to be gentle with me, I’m new to this.”

Jeff laughed softly and put down your bags before joining you on the couch. He wrapped his arms around you, allowing you to rest your head on his shoulder. The world seemed so different to both of you now. The three days spent in the hospital, you both realized the lines you’d drawn no longer mattered. There was you and him and the baby. Your little family.

“I still want to marry you,” He stated. 

“And I still want to be married to you,” You replied, “Just...after she comes.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” Jeff warned.

He put a hand on your stomach just in time to feel a tiny little kick. She wasn’t kicking with much force yet, but she was kicking. Jeff still couldn’t believe he was having a daughter. He declared that it was the only good thing to come out of the trip to the hospital. He got to see his baby for the first time, all ten fingers and toes. Got to see her little face, and point out the fact that she already looked so much like you. He didn’t know he could love something so much, without even having met her yet. But she was his, and she was yours. A perfect combination of the two of you, even if she wasn’t planned. She was still loved.

The coming days and weeks blurred together. You weren’t able to go anywhere. You did a lot of online shopping so you’d be able to put together a little nursery. Jeff had a spare bedroom that you’d use. Both of you decided not long after your trip to the hospital that you should stay there. Besides, home was always where Jeff was. Your little apartment was just a place you ran to, because you didn’t feel like you had a home anymore. You had more than a home now though. 

Jason came by a lot. He was finally able to meet Jeff, making Jeff realize Jason was really like a brother to you these days. Jason stayed a lot when Jeff was gone for games. He kept you company and called you at least everyday. He helped out a lot more than you ever expected him to. But he made you promise you’d grant him the title of Uncle Jase when the time came.

The news of the baby took both of your families by surprise. They didn’t know you two were still close. It nearly made you laugh when your parents went silent before your mom started screaming. Jeff’s family was a little more laid back, but even you could tell they were holding back. The sight of you and Jeff holding onto one another while showing them the pictures from the ultrasounds was too much for both sets of parents. Because the two of you were finally getting your happy ending. 

“What about Caroline?” Jeff questioned as the two of you sat trying to figure out a name. 

“Caroline? I thought you wanted a family name?” 

“I think that name is more important.”

“How so?” Confusion took over you. 

“For Carolina. We wouldn’t have met if I hadn’t been drafted by the Canes,” He clarified, “Or if you hadn’t gone to NC State.”

“Technically we met because you, Mr. Hotshot Rookie, showed up to the State Hockey House,” You laughed, “I was half drunk, but there you were with rosey cheeks and goofy smile.”

He laughed, “We played beer pong together, right?”

“You lost the game, and I threw up in the bushes.”

His laugh was loud as he recalled those events, “Ah college and the early years.”

You smiled and kissed his neck. Your little girl was kicking up a storm under Jeff’s hand. Her little movements followed wherever he moved, either with a foot or a hand. He’d play the game with her for hours, until she seemed to fall asleep. He’d poke where a foot was and she’d kick back. You already learned she seemed to like hockey, as she became more active when you watched it. Or maybe it was because you got more excited. 

Jeff would come home and give you both details about the game, his head was always by your belly so she could hear him better. Nights like that made you want to cry. There was a whole new world that the two of you were about to enter into and you couldn’t wait. You wanted to be able to hold the little girl you’d once been so afraid of. 

“She’s kicking a lot tonight,” Jeff whispered. 

“She likes it when you’re here. A daddy’s girl already,” You told him. 

“She’s already taken my heart, just like her mama,” He replied, “I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you too, Twirly Bird.”

Your daughter was born shortly after that night. A few weeks early, but she decided she just didn’t want to wait anymore. You and Jeff loved her from the moment her cries broke through the room. You named her Caroline afterall, agreeing that it was the perfect name. You and Jeff were married not long after. The wedding was small, nothing big. A year after Caroline was born, the three of you moved into a spacious house, big enough for more children. 

It didn’t take you long to realize you wanted more. You didn’t want it to just be Caroline. There was a large yard, big enough for a swingset and plenty of room for her to play when she was old enough. Her little feet padded on the hardwood floors all the time, constantly chasing after the dogs. 

But the best thing about the house, besides the fact that it was where your family was going to grow? The fact that you finally had a white picket fence with Jeff. After all of the bumps in the road, and the number of times you walked out on each other. You finally had the life that you never thought you wanted. But it turned out to be the life you didn’t know you needed.

[starryknight09]

Even Spiderman has his breaking point

Febuwhump Day 2: “I can’t do this anymore”

Read on AO3.

________________________________________________________

“I can’t take this anymore!” Peter yelled and Tony stopped up short in the hallway.  He’d never heard the kid yell at anyone like that before.  He didn’t wait for a reply as he closed the remaining distance to the door and threw it open.

“What’s going on in here?  I heard you all the way across the compound.” He joked, knowing that Peter wouldn’t appreciate it if he showed any true concern.  Ever since he’d gotten pummeled by the Rhino he’d had a bit of an attitude.

“Peter wants to be done for the day.” Dave, the Avenger’s physical therapist, explained.  “But we still have one more set left.”

Tony hummed and took in the scene.  Peter lay on his back, drenched in sweat and face tight with pain while Dave stood over him, arms crossed in front of his chest, not at all intimidated by Peter’s mini tantrum.  Then again, most people wouldn’t be.  Being on the wrong side of Peter’s anger was like getting attacked by a tiny tiger cub.  But Tony could tell just by looking at him that the kid really was done and pushing him at this point would do more harm than good.

“I think he’s done.” Tony said lightly, but Dave took it as the dismissal it was.  For a moment it looked like the man wanted to argue but after another glance back down at the sweaty teen, he acquiesced with a nonchalant shrug.

“You’re the boss.” Dave said and walked out, the door shutting behind him with a quick click.

“So,” Tony started since Peter still hadn’t looked over at him, “what’s with the tude?”

Peter sat up and gestured angrily, “I don’t have a tude.  He wasn’t listening to me!  My leg hurts and I said I was done but he kept pushing me!”

Tony hummed again and walked over to Peter’s side.  “Well, that’s kind of his job.  Didn’t anyone ever tell you physical therapy blows?”

That got him a hint of a smile.  Tony lowered himself to sit down next to the kid, groaning dramatically as he did.  

Peter’s smile widened.  “Don’t hurt yourself old man.”

There.  Temper tantrum successfully averted.  The past couple weeks he’d been walking on eggshells around the kid because he’d been a moody mess, and it seemed to be getting worse, not better.  Then again, Peter had never gotten this hurt before.  The Rhino had practically mangled his leg before Tony had gotten there. He’d needed three surgeries so far, his last had been only a few days ago.  If he hadn’t been enhanced, he would’ve lost his leg, but even with his remarkable healing abilities, it was going to be a long road.  And Peter was clearly getting frustrated with his slow progress when he was accustomed to going completely back to normal after a good night’s sleep.

“How’s the leg?” Tony asked, nodding toward it.

“Hurts.” Peter shrugged.

“Want me to grab one of your pain pills?” He offered, not making a big deal of it.  If Peter thought he was babying him, he’d resist any help out of sheer obstinance.  Sometimes the ways in which they were similar frustrated Tony to no end.

“No, I can make it back to my room.  Just need to catch my breath first.”

The kid wasn’t out of breath and Tony could see the pinched look on his face that meant he was in pain and trying to hide it.  “Well, let me know when you’re ready and I’ll walk back with you.”

“Don’t you have somewhere you have to be?” Peter asked with an annoyed edge and Tony couldn’t hold back his grin.  How far the mighty had fallen.  When he’d first met Peter, the kid had stuttered every time he tried to talk to him, and now he had no problem giving him teenage sass.

“Nope.” He leaned backward, resting most of his weight on his hands as he straightened his legs out in front of him.  “I’ve got all day.”

“Great.” Peter said, sounding anything but enthusiastic about it.

Tony snorted.  They sat in silence for another long minute.

“Just so you know, I’m impressed with you kid.” Tony said, never able to stay quiet for long.  “You’re taking this whole thing in stride and you’ve been dealing with it well.”

“No I haven’t.”

“Hey, if it was me, I probably would’ve had a temper tantrum a week ago.”

“It wasn’t a temper tantrum.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.  An outburst.”

Peter rolled his eyes.

“But seriously,” Tony bumped his shoulder lightly against Peter’s, “this stuff is tough.”

Peter nodded but stayed quiet.

“Don’t worry.  Spiderman will be back out there swinging again in no time.” Tony added.

“Doesn’t feel like it.” Peter mumbled, practically pouting.  Sometimes Tony forgot Peter was just a sixteen year old kid, especially when he was in the mask, but then other times, like this, he was blatantly reminded.

“I know but look on the bright side.  Cho says you shouldn’t need any more surgery, so if you do the PT work, you’ll be better before you know it.”

“Yeah.” Peter said but he didn’t sound so sure.

“Trust me, in a couple months you’ll look back on this and it’ll all just seem like a bad dream.”

“Yeah.” Peter repeated, more certain this time.

“At least you’re not like one of us mere mortals.  If it’d been me, I would’ve been out of commission for months, maybe a year.  You’ve probably just got a couple more weeks of suffering left at Dave’s hands.”

Peter let out a short laugh.

“And when you’re all back to snuff you can go back to walking your angry girlfriend all around Queens again.” Tony threw in the jibe, knowing the response it’d get.

“How many times do I have to tell you she’s not my girlfriend?” Peter shook his head in consternation, but Tony could see the characteristic light was back in his eyes.

Mission: cheer the kid up, accomplished.

Tony smiled.  “Hm, we’ll see.”

“She’s not.” Peter repeated.

“Sure sure.” Tony said, pushing off the ground to stand.  He held his hand out to Peter and the kid eyed it for a second but took it.  Tony pulled him up, and in a smooth movement, slung Peter’s arm over his shoulder to help him limp over to where his crutches rested against the wall.  Tony helped get the crutches in place and then gave him his space.

“What do you say we go back to your room, get one of those magic pills into you and watch movies for the rest of the day?” Tony offered.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah it’s no problem.  I told you I had all day.” He shrugged but made a mental note to text Pepper and let her know he wasn’t going to make it to the shareholders meeting this afternoon.  She’d be pissed, but it was worth it.

“That sounds great.  Thanks Mr. Stark.” Peter said and Tony knew he was thanking him for more than just the movie plan.

“You know how you can really thank me?”

“How?”

“Call me Tony.” It was a matter of contention between them lately.  He’d known Peter for almost two years now and he still refused to call him by his first name.  At this point he knew the kid was just doing it to annoy him.

Peter graced him with a wide cocky smile.  “Never.”

[wordsfromthesol]

Just A Facade (2/2)

Author: @wordsfromthesol Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader Taglist: @zphilophobiaz  @anousiemay @malfoys-demigod @pricetagofficial​ @somnibats Summary:  Dick is very confused that his brothers seem to all be getting along with you, and worse…wanting to help you. And wait…were you dating his brother?! Warnings:  Violence, cursing, violence...more violence  Word Count: 2.0k

You woke up in one of Jason’s t-shirts, in his old room, very confused. As you moved to get up the pain racing up your side jogged your memory. “Shit, Jason’s gunna be so pissed at me.”

“You could say that again!” You heard his voice coming from the bathroom.

You slowly made your way to the bathroom and leaned against the door frame. “It’s not like I meant to get shot Jay.”

“Yeah, well, you could have told my idiot brother when it happened.” He stepped towards you, placing his hands on your shoulders. “Or even ME when you got to the cave.”

“I thought I could handle it…why was your brother there in the first place?” The question came out a little more accusatory than you meant. Jason took a step back and threw his hands in the air.

“Because, apparently, you tried to kill him last week.”

“He’s still on that? Ugh, I pulled my punches as much as I could without being glaringly obvious. Next time he shouldn’t be in the way of the actual target.”

“Maybe you should just tell him.”

“Why? He doesn’t need my life story.”

“Y/N/N…”

“Oh you’re one to talk mister come back from the dead and don’t tell anyone.”

“You didn’t even know me before I died!”

“So! I know you didn’t tell your brothers!”

“I know you’re doing this to distract me, and it’s working, but you need to tell him. He won’t trust you, and it will end up getting someone hurt on this case. And if that someone is you –” Jason’s voice trailed off.  

It was your turn to throw up your hands in exasperation. Unfortunately, you had forgotten about your recent injuries. “Agh!” You grimaced as your hand went to your side.

“See, that’s a sign that you’re being too stubborn.” Jason smirked before pressing a kiss to your lips and lifting you up. He carried you until you got to the cave, where he gently set you down, allowing you to still use him as a crutch.

**

“Y/N!” Tim exclaimed at the sight of you, “I’ve found something!” He waited for you and Jason to arrive at his side before he continued. “So, they made a mistake coming after you.”

“How do you know that was related? A lot of people want me dead…”

“Well, I didn’t at first. But then, looking through your pictures…the ones you didn’t originally give us,” Tim shot a judgmental stare your way.

“Oh you would’ve done the same thing.”

“WELL, one of them caught the van…long story short I was able to trace it back here,” Tim points at the screen, “once they left your apartment.”

“Alright, I’ll do some recon then. Come on blue bird.” You gestured to Dick.

“It’s Nightwing – wait you want me to come?”

“Well I know I’m not going to be let out of here alone, so I’d rather just hitch a ride than have one of you bozos follow me.”

“She’s not wrong.” Jason stated plainly as he tossed you a bottle of pills, “Take one before you leave, and please don’t rip my stitches.”

“I’ll try my hardest.”

**

The two of you sat in silence on the rooftop for nearly an hour. Finally, Dick couldn’t take the silence anymore.

“Alright, you gunna try and kill me again, or what?” He finally blurted out, still trying to figure out why you requested him as your back-up.

“What? I never tried to kill you, calm your feathers.”

“Last week!”

“I had to make it look real…I wasn’t alone.”

“Yeah, I noticed that…”

“I know you don’t agree with my life choices Nightwing, but I don’t have much of a choice in the matter.”

“It may not be easy, but you can get out.” Dick made the comment as if it was from personal experience.

“No.” Your voice turned somber, “I can’t. My parents decided to pay for their freedom with mine. If I leave…they’ll just take my sister. There is no out for me.” Your eyes focused on the building below, not daring to face him.

“Sister?” Dick was quickly realizing how little he actually knew about you.

“Heh, yeah. I doubt she even remembers she has one. I got her out, found her a family. She was only four…I haven’t seen her since.”

“Huh, that’s why you actually dropped the act for a minute when you presented this case. I thought you were hiding something.”

“I was. My past.”

“How old were you?”

“Six.”

Silence rang through the night, as the two of you watched the building. Taking photos and notes of all the ins and outs. Finally, the two of you decided it was time to leave. Just as you pulled into the cave, Dick asked one more question…or tried to.

“Are you and Jason…”

“I’m going to let you talk to your brother about that one.” You interrupted his thought before scurrying out the door.

**

“Well, what did you find?” Tim eagerly awaited for another piece of the puzzle to fall into place.

“Didn’t see any kids, but there were definitely too many guards for a store called ‘Windows, Doors, and More’. Even if it is in Gotham.”

“So we check it out in the tomorrow during the day. By we, I obviously don’t mean you Y/N/N.”

“Yeah yeah Jay, I gathered.” The sarcasm dripped off your response.

“While we’re on that subject…” Now Tim and Damian had turned their attention to you as well. “We think you need a suit. A secret identity. These people found you too easily.”

You chuckled at the mere thought, “Yeah okay. I don’t have any family, there’s no point.” You didn’t notice the sorrow fill Jason’s eyes at your apathetic words.

“Fine, if you won’t do it for me then how about your sister. Just because she doesn’t know about you doesn’t mean others don’t.” Jason’s frustration was apparent.

Before you could comprehend the words, your fist collided with Jason’s jaw. Immediately, you stepped back. Your hands shaking.

“Hit me all you –” Before Jason could finish your hands cupped his face.

“No no no” you whispered more to yourself than him. A tear fell from your eye as your mind finally caught up. “Jay, I’m so sorry.” You pressed a kiss to his lips, then another, and another before enveloping him in a hug. “You’re right. I need to protect her. Protect you.” A faint smile grazed his lips and he pulled you from his chest, keeping his hands resting on your shoulders. The silence seemed to go on forever, until Damian couldn’t take it anymore.

“Finally! Now come see the suit we had designed for you.” It was the first time you had ever heard Damian Wayne excited for something.

You gave Jason a smirk, “You already had it made?”

“For almost a year now.”

“So you guys are together, right?!” You heard Dick’s confused voice bellow in the background. No one answered him.

**

The next day came and went and a plan was made. Your role was made minimal, and by minimal you meant being forced to sit as the look out on the rooftop across the street. Though you understood, you still couldn’t sit back and watch everything go down. You waited until you heard clear fighting happening in the warehouse when you made your way to the roof. Timing the break-in with a gunshot, you crashed through a second story window and made your way to a locked back room.

The five of you had narrowed the location of the children down to this room. It was the only thing that made sense, and you were determined to get these kids out. The lock was easy to pick, however, you were not expecting someone on the other side. Someone who knew exactly who you were, despite your newfound disguise.

“Oh look who saved me the trouble. I think I owe you another bullet for the number your friend did on my face.”

“Ya’know, he’s right outside…why don’t you just go pay it back now.”

“Somehow I think hurting you will do just that. But don’t worry, he’ll get his turn to.” As you pulled the gun holstered at your side the man delivered a swift jab to your injured side. The gun fell to the floor and you charged at him, dropping to the ground just before making contact and sweeping his legs from under him. He collapsed to the floor and you jumped on top of him, putting as much force as you could against his neck with your arm. As you felt your grip loosening you threw back your head and crashed in into his. You felt him go limp under your weight.

“Where the fuck are the kids.” You mumbled to yourself. You begin searching for a hidden panel or room. As you heard gunshots barrel through the warehouse, you looked down and noticed a locked hatch. Making quick work of the lock, you pulled the hatch open and were met with eight terrified eyes staring up at you.

“It’s okay, you’re safe now.” You reached your hand down, offering it to one of the children. After what seemed like hours, a brave soul took it in theirs. Thankfully, the others quickly followed. You soon realized you couldn’t get them out the same way you came in.

“Shit, alright guys. I need you to cover your ears.” You placed your hands over your ears as a demonstration before you set a small charge at the far wall. “Once this goes off you run through the opening and wait in the alley behind the next building. I’ll be there as soon as I can. I promise.” As the children nodded you set off the detonation, grabbed your gun, and positioned yourself between them and the door. You knew the noise would draw attention.

A man soon rounded the corner, only half the kids were out. You shot directly through his knee cap. He wasn’t alone. Upon hearing the shot, the second assailant somersaulted directly into your feet. You stumbled backwards, forcing the last child out of the opening. Your momentary loss of focus allowed the man to push you into the wall. He held one hand around your neck and the other around your wrist. He continued to slam your wrist into the wall until you were forced to drop the gun. You quickly latched your legs around his waist and jabbed your free arm into his side. His stumbled backwards, loosening his grip as he stumbled to stay upright with the additional weight. You pulled your other wrist from his grasp and launched it at his jaw. You heard a crack as your fist made contact. The hand at your neck flew towards his own jaw. As he was off guard, you fell into him, forcing him to fall backwards onto the ground. Just as you stumbled to get up, Jason raced into the room.

“This was not the plan!”

You smirked, “But it worked. Kids are in the next alley. Be a good birdie and go get them Nightwing.” Dick rolled his eyes but complied. Without a word, Damian and Tim joined him. Jason’s eyes trailed towards your neck, which was already starting to change color. Before he could berate you, you continued, your voice heavy. “They were kids Jay. They deserved a life. They deserved a choice.”

Jason pulled you into his chest, “They did, but now we have no one to question. There’s no way these idiots were the masterminds.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“Hey, we’ll figure it out. Together.”

[echo-bleu]

Movie Night

For @insidious-intent. Happy birthday!! 🎉 I’m really glad that you’re, like, six hours behind me, because this took me way too long to finish. I hope you like it!

“Michael?” Liz says when she picks up the phone.

Michael can hear the frown in her voice. They're friends, but Michael has never called her for anything that wasn't science or an emergency. He would have called Max, but he's been fighting the after-effect of exhausting his weak heart healing Alex for weeks, and he's usually too tired to pick up the phone.

“Movie and pizza night,” he says. “Tonight, at Alex's. You think Max can handle that?”

“Probably not,” Liz says. “He tried to work, again. He's passed out on his couch.”

“Damn,” Michael mutters.

“I think Rosa could use a breather, though. She invited?”

“Yeah, sure. You should come too, give yourself a night off caring for my idiot brother. Bring beers,” Michael orders.

“What's the occasion?”

“Alex is having a bad day, and Valenti turned out to be completely uneducated in the classics. We can't let that continue.”

There's a blank, then Liz clears her throat.

“I agree,” she says. “What are we watching?”

“Star Wars,” Michael answers. “We'll start with A New Hope and go on until we fall asleep.”

“Kyle has never watched Star Wars? Isn't that a crime?”

“Alex says it's not, but we could double check,” Michael joins in on the banter with a smile.

“What's wrong with Alex?” Liz asks more quietly.

“He...fell, and then he tried to walk with his prosthesis when he shouldn't have. It's nothing life-threatening, but he's in pain and he's been stuck at home for two days, so he could use a pick-me-up.”

“Of course. Rosa and I will be here. Have you asked Maria yet?”

Michael sighs, leaning on the hood of his car. “Rosa's coming. Maria still won't speak to me, and things aren't comfortable between her and Alex.”

“I get that, but they're friends, they should make things up−wait, Alex doesn't know you're inviting us?”

“I have...” Michael looks at his watch, “about two hours to tell him. I'm still at work, Sanders needed me today. I'm about to head to his place. I don't think Maria's a good idea today.”

“Fine,” Liz sighs. “I'll text Rosa, see if she needs me to pick her up. See you tonight.”

“Thanks,” Michael manages to get out before she hangs up.

*

“Alex!” Michael calls when he opens the door of the house with his key. Alex was on the couch when he left this morning, but he's not there anymore.

“Bathroom!” Alex calls back.

Michael finds him standing by his medicine cabinet in the bathroom, both crutches in one hand, the other rummaging through pill bottles.

“What are you looking for?” he asks, coming up behind him.

“Back up painkillers,” Alex says, just turning his head enough to give him a strained smile. “Can't seem to find them.”

Michael frowns. He was careful to leave Alex with everything he might need on hand, this morning, including his regular bottle of painkillers. If he needs the back up one, it means he's maxed out and he's still in pain, which is not good news.

“Let me,” Michael says.

Alex hops back to let him come closer. “Thanks,” he says, sounding relieved.

Given Alex's usual fierce independence, Michael frowns at that too. “Here,” he says, picking out a pill bottle out of the half-dozen in the cabinet.

“Thank you,” Alex repeats. “Sorry, the pain's making me fuzzy.”

“Come on,” Michael prompts him to start his way back to the living room. “I'll get you some water.”

Alex nods and gets situated on his crutches. His gait is only slightly less graceful than usual−Michael is always impressed at how comfortable Alex is with crutches. It makes sense, of course, given how long he had to use them before his stump was healed enough for the prosthetic, and then while he trained himself to walk with it, but Michael wasn't there to see it. Michael missed a lot of Alex's life.

There's already a glass and a pitcher on the coffee table that Michael left there this morning, so he pours Alex some water before he goes to sit. Alex lowers himself carefully onto his favorite armchair.

“How are you feeling?” Michael asks.

“Been better,” Alex admits. “Today was pretty bad. But I'll be okay.”

“I know, you've been telling me that non-stop for two days. You know you're not the one supposed to be comforting me, right?”

“You worry too much.”

Michael just raises an eyebrow at the pill in Alex's hand, which he puts in his mouth and swallows. “So I was wrong to worry that you were running around the day after your−”

“No, you weren't, okay?” Alex rolls his eyes. “I know I shouldn't have. Can you please let it go?”

Michael backs off and sighs. Alex is definitely more irritable than usual, probably because of the pain and fatigue. The events of the last few days−last few months−have taken their toll. If he's honest, Michael is tired too.

It's been nearly four weeks since Alex rescued himself from the hands of Deep Sky, after eight days of frantic searching on Michael's part−and promptly passed out on them, with a bullet still lodged in his liver. Max just managed to stop the internal bleeding and start to close the wound before overloading his pacemaker, and he's been paying the price since.

Alex himself has been...fine. Too fine, if you ask Michael. He recovered quickly from the hole in his stomach, and the myriad other wounds sustained at the hands of the captors he still refuses to talk about. Michael, after breaking up with Maria loudly and messily on day two of Alex's captivity, came over multiple times a day to bring him food and make sure he was okay, and they settled into a comfortable routine. Up until three days ago, when Alex was supposed to go back to work and tried to take his new prosthesis−which, by some miracle, he managed to hold onto−outside the house without the support of a crutch, and he fell on his face on the pavement.

Michael only gets glimpses of what's under the surface, what Alex looks like when he's not trying to put up a facade.

They're all at the end of their rope, and that's why Michael decided that a movie night would do them good, now that things finally look like they're settling a bit. Which reminds him, he still needs to tell Alex. He texted Isobel on his way to the house, and Valenti was the first he told earlier, so Alex is the only one who doesn't know yet.

“I invited everyone over,” Michael says, when the lines of pain on Alex's face have softened a bit under the effect of the strong painkiller.

Alex raises an eyebrow. “Um, you know it's my house, right?”

“Yup,” Michael responds without missing a beat. “But you have a projector. Movie night at the Airstream wouldn't be much fun.”

“Right,” Alex rolls his eyes. “Who's everyone?”

There's a guardedness in his eyes that tells Michael he was right. “Valenti, Iz, Liz and Rosa,” he answers. “Max is too tired.”

“Still?”

“He keeps pushing himself to far,” Michael shrugs. “Just can't take a break. Reminds me of someone.”

“I take breaks,” Alex grumbles.

“I know,” Michael admits with a smile. “You're actually pretty good at taking care of yourself. This was just shitty luck.”

“Seems like a streak.”

“We've all had a rough time of it lately, haven't we?”

Alex gives him a long look. “Yeah,” he says after a moment.

“Anyway, we're watching Star Wars,” Michael deliberately changes the subject.

Alex raises an eyebrow. “Kyle?”

“I can't condone that level of ignorance anymore.”

“I thought I was the nerd and you were the genius.”

“Well yeah, but there's a limit to what even I can stand!” Michael throws up his hand.

“I find it rather endearing most of the time,” Alex smirks.

“Kyle, Alex? Really? You find him endearing?”

Michael meant it as a joke, but Alex closes off immediately, looking away. Since Forrest Long turned out to be part of Deep Sky, anything related to Alex's love life or sexuality has been a touchy subject. Especially with Michael. Or, at least, Michael thinks so, because he hasn't heard Alex talk about it with anyone else.

“Sorry,” Michael murmurs. They'll need to really talk, at some point. He's been telling himself that every day since they got Alex back, but there never seems to be a good time. Alex neatly side-steps every hook Michael tries to give him.

Not that he tries very hard. Alex has been letting him help, and he's terrified that if they talk, Alex will shut him out again. It's been a pattern with them, Michael pushing him away every time they have a deep conversation, Alex running.

Why can't it ever be simple?

“Have you at least bought food?” Alex asks after he's been silent for a while. “You won't feed six people off what's in my fridge.”

“Iz and Valenti are bringing some, and I grabbed a couple frozen pizzas,” Michael answers. “I'll get the projector up.”

Alex nods and sits back, letting the painkiller haze overtake him.

*

Isobel carefully balances the quiche and the salad she made in her arms, with just a touch of telekinesis−not enough that the neighbors could notice, but that salad bowl is heavy−and deliberately slams the door of her car. Anything to avoid catching her brother and his whatever-Alex-is-these-days in a compromising position. She doesn't need the scars in her mind.

The only car already there is Michael's truck, so she's the first to show up. Alex's car was found at the bottom of a ravine in the desert, shortly after he went missing, and he's had other priorities than getting a replacement.

“Iz!” Michael greets her at the door. “And food! That's good.”

He takes the salad bowl from her and waves her in. Isobel has been here a few times, since Alex got back. She helped Michael with food runs when Alex was completely laid up the first week, and then she came back to visit. Her and Alex's friendship is building itself out of snarky comebacks and tips on how to control panic attacks, whenever they get a chance to talk outside of Michael's influence.

“Isobel,” Alex nods at her from his armchair, with a small smile. He doesn't stand up to greet her, and he looks a little spaced out, which Isobel has come to learn is due to his strong painkillers.

“Alex,” she answers in the same tone. Michael takes the quiche from her hands to put it in the fridge. “I'd say thank you for inviting me, but I have the feeling that you didn't have a say in the matter.”

Alex snorts. “Your feeling is accurate. It's still nice to see you, though.” He gestures for her to sit down on the couch.

“You look like shit,” she says. Michael glares daggers at her, coming into the living room, but Alex just laughs. Good. He wouldn't appreciate her putting on gloves.

“Your jacket is absolutely fascinating,” Alex sends back after a beat long enough to show that his brain functions are slowed by the medication. The pill bottle is still on the coffee table, beside his laptop. “It looks exactly like my grandmother's carpet.” His eyes are clear and full of mirth, though. “I puked all over it when I was about six months old.”

Isobel theatrically shivers and pulls the jacket tighter around her. “I'll thank you not to do the same to this very nice pricey jacket.”

She doesn't push more to know how Alex is doing. Michael gave her the relevant facts earlier, and she has no doubt Kyle will certain Alex is okay. It's not her job. Her job is to be a friend, and today what Alex needs is a distraction.

Kyle, Liz and Rosa trickle in within a few minutes of each other. Michael makes a show of opening beer bottles with his minds, several at a time and while levitating them. Isobel resists stealing one of the bottles from him and emptying it on his head, and she's rewarded by one of his beautiful, proud smiles. Michael has been much happier since he broke up with Maria and spends time with Alex.

“Have you two at least talked?” Isobel asks him in the kitchen, where he's helping her get plates for everyone and slicing the quiche.

“No,” Michael shrugs. “Didn't get a chance.”

“That excuse stopped flying three weeks ago, Michael,” Isobel gently scolds him. “Don't let it get out of hands.”

“It's just… We've never had a quiet moment before. Just a time where we could be ourselves and hang out without it being complicated. I don't want to break the spell.”

“This can't last forever. He still hasn't said anything about his kidnapping?”

“No more than he said the first day,” Michael sighs. “I'm sure he gave us all the relevant information, but he won't talk about what they did to him.”

“And he still won't go to therapy?”

Michael bites his lip. “I haven't asked him again.”

Isobel closes her eyes. “Okay. I won't tell you what to do, Michael. I don't know any better than you. Just...try.”

“The pizzas are ready,” Michael gestures to the oven. He grabs mittens to take them out, ignoring Isobel entirely.

They walk back into the living room to Kyle trying to examine Alex, and Alex resisting him. He has a guarded look on his face that wasn't there around just Isobel earlier. Liz and Rosa are watching warily, which is probably irritating Alex even more. He hates his vulnerabilities being made into a spectacle.

“Did you at least see a doctor?” Kyle presses.

“I know how to handle myself, Kyle,” Alex snaps.

“Will you let me have a look?”

“I'm fine.”

Kyle raises an eyebrow. “Clearly.”

Alex rolls his eyes. “Okay, maybe not fine, but I know what's wrong. I don't need you poking at me.”

“I'm just trying to help,” Kyle huffs.

“Then stop fussing,” Alex says, firm and definitive. “Please,” he adds to mitigate the harshness of his tone.

Kyle throws up his hands. “Okay, okay. I'll stop.” He doesn't look happy about it, but he takes a step back.

“Shall we start that movie?” Isobel asks, louder than really necessary. “The food is ready, and we have popcorn for later.”

“Yeah, let's do this,” Rosa says. “I can't believe I'm still more up to date with pop culture than you, bro.”

Kyle grumbles something indistinguishable, and Rosa punches him in the arm.

Alex reaches down for one of his crutches and slowly stands up. “Isobel?” he asks, when he sees that Michael has his hands full with plates and salad. Isobel is lost for a second, and he gestures the the armchair. Right. She concentrates and moves it around, turning it until it's facing the large white sheet Michael installed in front of the TV. Alex follows the move and drops back into it, not bothering to pretend that he has the energy for more than that.

Michael takes the piano bench, and Liz, Rosa and Kyle squeeze together on the couch, leaving Isobel to drag a chair over from the table for herself. They keep teasing Kyle for his lack of culture, and Isobel suddenly remembers that the last time she watched this movie, it was with Noah. She shudders.

As the familiar Star Wars credits roll out, Isobel looks around her, wondering if these people ever feel as old as she does. They don't, she realizes. Somehow, for most of them, it's like time froze the day Rosa died.

She looks at Rosa, nineteen and rebellious, so young and yet sometimes so mature she leaves them all speechless. Michael and Max don't reach her level of understanding of the world, half the time. They're still in a bubble, believing in true love you don't have to work at and black and white justice and freedom.  Three aliens against the world. Only Isobel doesn't feel like that anymore. She hasn't for a long time.

Isobel grew with Noah. Despite his monstrosity, they grew together, as husband and wife. Isobel became an adult, while her brothers stayed stuck at seventeen. And now, discovering all the lies, she feels like she aged ten years in a few months. Maybe she did. Maybe the six weeks she missed while in the pod were actually years. Would they even tell her?

Out of the humans who actually left, Kyle has been out of med school for all of two years, and Liz is barely out of her PhD. They're still kids. Not as stuck in time as Michael and Max, maybe, but so damn young.

But not Alex. In Alex's eyes, Isobel can see the same weariness that she feels. There's more, even. A sadness of someone who was forced to grow too fast, and to see too much. Alex has spent the last ten years at war, and none of the others seem to truly realize that. They remember the boy who wore eyeliner just to spite his father, and they still expect him to act the same.

She stands up brutally. “I'll−I'll be back in a minute,” she mumble when all the heads turn toward her. Michael gives her a concerned glance, but she shakes her head. Biting her tongue, she heads for the kitchen.

It takes her a while to breathe through the knot in her throat. She pours herself a glass of water, and sits at the table, trying to block out the voices from the next room. It will be six months soon, since Noah's death. She still doesn't feel like she has a grip on things.

“Isobel?”

Isobel looks up, startled. She doesn't know how she didn't hear Alex coming, on his crutches and looking barely stable enough to stand. She telekinetically pulls out a chair for him, and he takes it gratefully.

“What are you doing here?” she asks, keeping her head down. She has no hope of hiding her breathlessness and her red eyes, but it doesn't mean she won't try.

“Same as you, I assume,” Alex shrugs, leaning his crutches against the table. “Needed a breather.”

“Noah...we watched a lot of movies together. It was our thing. Date night. He always...he always found movies that didn't portray aliens as the enemy.”

“Rings differently now?” Alex offers.

“Yeah.”

“I used to watch movies with Karl,” Alex says, looking down at his hands. “He was, uh, a guy I dated on and off for a couple of years. He was this huge nerd, a history buff. That's why I liked Forrest so much, I think, he reminded me of Karl.” He tenses at the mention of Forrest. It's still a sore spot, that this man was a plant−a mostly innocent one, barely aware of what he was involved into, but still a plant.

“Where is he now?” Isobel asks. She's never heard him mention Karl before.

Alex closes his eyes and shakes his head. “He died. Saved my life,” he nods toward his leg. “But he didn't make it.”

Fuck. “I'm sorry,” Isobel murmurs.

“I'm sorry too,” Alex says, looking up at her. “About Noah. All you went through.”

Isobel nods. “Let's not list all the things we're sorry about, okay?” she says, her voice brittle.

“Yeah. We might need more than one night for that,” Alex replies.

“You guys okay?” Michael's voice filters through the half-opened door. He pokes his head through, and frowns in concern.

“We're fine,” Isobel says forcefully. “Just talking. We both know the movie by heart anyway.”

“Okay,” Michael backs off. He knows what to do when faced with this tone of voice, she's trained him well. “Just call if you need anything, okay?”

Isobel nods and makes a shoo motion. Alex hasn't even turned toward the door, frozen in place.

“You need to talk to him,” she says softly.

“I know,” Alex sighs. “It's just...just before I was taken, we had an argument. I mean, it's nothing unusual for us, but...I said things.”

“You think he's still angry with you?”

“Maybe. It was about my father, and I was wrong about him anyway. I still can't...I can't wrap my head around the fact that Michael went to him. That he put you all in danger for−” he trails off.

“For you?” Isobel asks. “Alex, don't you know yet that Michael would do anything to save you?”

“I wish he wouldn't. If you guys get captured, if you're discovered… I'm not worth that.”

Isobel shifts. “Of course you are. You're worth the risk, at least. You all are. Would you say the same thing about Liz, or Rosa?”

Alex shrugs.

“Or is it just you? You think you're not worth the trouble?” Isobel doesn't wait for him to answer, his face is enough. “You're worth that and so much more, Alex. To Michael, to me, even to Max. I think we've been making you feel like we only care because you bring us information and resources, but it's not true.”

Alex crosses his arms against his chest, hugging himself. “My family did so much harm to yours,” he says.

“Humans tortured and killed our kind. Humans took in my mother and took care of her. Noah was an alien, and he killed humans and abused me. Your father is a human and he abused you. It doesn't make a difference, Alex. You may be a Manes, but these men aren't you. You matter to us. You matter so much to Michael.”

“I'll talk to him,” Alex sighs. “It's...I don't want the status quo to end. I don't want us to go back to before.”

“You mean you don't want him to go back to Maria. I don't think he will,” Isobel says.

“I don't want him to go back to blaming me,” Alex admits.

“He was so scared while you were gone. I've never seen him this frantic.”

Alex shakes his head. “But that's the problem, isn't it? All I do is cause him pain.”

Isobel rolls her eyes. “Is that what you take away from it? He loves you, Alex.”

“He didn't think it was worth the pain. I don't think it's worth his pain.”

“Of course it fucking is! You love each other. You trust each other. Neither of you is a lying body-snatching serial-killer. Just take it, Alex. You have a real shot at happiness together. That's worth everything.”

Isobel only realizes that she's raised her voice when she looks up to see Alex staring at her, mouth hanging open, and Michael at the door looking alarmed.

“Um,” she bites her tongue. “Sorry, got carried away. But you two have got to talk.”

Michael drops heavily onto a chair. “Wow. I didn't know you felt that way,” he tells Isobel.

“I didn't mean for you to hear that,” Isobel start. “No, actually, I'm glad you did. You're going to talk, right now, while I go watch the end of the movie.”

“Isobel−” Alex starts, raising his hand, but she's already at the door.

“Talk,” she orders, closing the door behind her. “Or do I have to lock you in?”

“I can pick locks with my brain!” Michael calls after her.

“Well, pick this one!” Isobel shouts back, blocking the door with her powers. She's fairly sure that Michael could overpower her if he wanted to, but he doesn't try.

She steals Alex's armchair, since he won't need it for now, and very deliberately starts eating under Kyle, Liz and Rosa's dumbfounded looks. “Did you just lock them in?” Rosa asks.

Isobel shrugs. “They need to talk.”

“No argument here,” Kyle sits back. “I'm actually enjoying this movie.”

When Alex and Michael come out of the kitchen, halfway through the second Star Wars movie, they looks exhausted and their eyes are red-rimmed, but there's no mistaking the relieved look on their face. Or how swollen their lips are. Isobel shoos Kyle and Rosa away to make space for them on the couch, and takes a celebratory sip of her beer.

Fucking finally.

[kentonwrites]

“Anamnesis” - Project Update

Look, I know I only have 40 followers and like 38 of them are bots, but writing these updates is my only source of joy. If someone happens upon this, please enjoy.

My projects/writing life since 2017 have been utter chaos. I’ve started and abandoned probably over a dozen projects, had nightmarish problems in my personal life, and pretty much put writing as my last priority. For some odd reason though, returning to it now has given me a better perspective on the craft. I feel like taking a couple of years to simply live and observe and consume other media and suffer has actually strengthened my writing. 

A summary of my current projects:

1. Mispacha (Untitled): I used the placeholder title Mispacha because it’s the Hebrew term for “family,” which is what this novel revolves around. It’s about a dysfunctional family in the early 2010′s who simply live in constant disorder and end up degrading themselves. I love the characters and the plot points I have planned, but I’m only 16k words in and am not happy with what I’ve written. The dialogue feels awkward, the writing extremely sparse, etc. I want to see it through, but it’s hard to persist at it when 16k words worth of dead weight is just...hovering there on the page.

2. Blight 117 (formerly titled Potent). This was my last start-to-finish project, and the piece that I first introduced to @breefrankelwriting when we were CPs like 4 years ago. I recently reopened that document and read through a few scenes and was absolutely APPALLED at how atrocious it was (Bree I’m so sorry please forgive me), but I also feel like I’m somehow meant to tell this story and I eventually, someday, want to make it work. It was my first ever idea for a “real” novel--I’ve had the idea and characters with me since 7th grade. I feel like it’s supposed to be my magnum opus, but if I ever go back and re-attempt it, it’ll need an overhaul the likes of which have never been seen since the dawn of time. 

3. Short Story Collection: Literally last night I was just standing around and then suddenly got the inspiration to start writing short stories. I know, it’s literally so spontaneous and quirky of me. I’d attempted a few during the absolute deadzone of 2018-2020, but none of them truly worked out. Since I evidently suck at writing longer pieces (see Mispacha) I figured, maybe my strengths could be suited to a shorter medium.

So I decided to randomly draft a short story last night that played directly to my weaknesses!!!

This story is what the bulk of this update is about.

It’s called “Anamnesis” and I literally came up with the idea, wrote the first draft, and made revision notes all in a span of 5 hours last night, from 9 PM - 2 AM. It was exhilarating honestly--I hadn’t written like that in years. The first draft ended up being 5200 words (!!!) but I want to eventually buff it to around 6k since I think I majorly underwrote the final scene due to fatigue.

“Anamnesis”

TITLE: The title, “Anamnesis,” literally fits the story in so many ways I could cry. It operates on every level. All I can do is bow down to the person who created this word and thank them for its relevance to my story.

CONTENT WARNINGS: Sexual abuse, violence toward elderly

SYNOPSIS: A home health worker is assigned to an elderly woman whose memory resets each morning. He begins to take advantage of her illness, using her inability to remember the previous day in order to mistreat and abuse her. But when she is prescribed a new, promising treatment, she begins to remember more than just the abuse.  

AESTHETIC: This story has the most unpleasant aesthetic known to man. I’m talking old people, pills, mold, dust, stray cats, oatmeal, etc. I’ve been in a few hospice patient homes before and I wanted to capture just how uncomfortable and depressing it can be.

CHARACTERS:

Luna Lemin - the protagonist, an elderly woman with dementia whose memory resets every morning. Always confused. Pitiful. Sad. Dark secrets in her past??? 

Alex - the patient care technician assigned to look after Luna. An absolute piece of trash. A spectacular liar. Malicious yet curious. 

PROCESS: Like I said, this story played directly to my weaknesses. How? Because I simply cannot create compelling characters or pace a story to save my LIFE, and this story DEPENDS on the characters and the pace at which their relationship progresses. Furthermore, the setting in this is somewhat bland (literally just an old woman’s middle/lower-class house) which is a sin in terms of my writing. I thrive off of having a strong sense of setting and being able to describe specific, interesting details of that setting. In this piece I largely deprived myself of that. But it also helped me balance my flowery, poetic, overly-quirky writing style with a cohesive story and effective characters. Lately I had been putting my work on the crutch of having good writing, but it didn’t work because 1) my writing is not at a good enough level for that, and 2) sacrificing effectiveness is never a good idea. Sometimes it’s better to choose the clear, effective verb over the never-before-seen exotic one found in the depths of the Thesaurus under “archaic.”

I’m going to begin editing the story and might soon post excerpts/more updates! Though I literally wrote it in one long sprint and haven’t looked back at it since so I am PRAYING it’s not garbage. Thanks for reading!

[cosmicclownboy]

Me finishing something I struggled to write....wow it was actually likely :)

When his father is alive the idea of going to therapy is suffocating. It continues to be throughout his years in the air force until the day it's mandated because by that point everything was suffocating. Waking up. Doing his physio. Simple tasks.Hard tasks. He had survived against all the odds but a part of him felt dead. So a part of him was in this limbo where he always felt like he was dying. The first session he stares at the clock inching the minutes until the clock hand rests on the hour change. The second he stares at the glass of water. By the third session he's exhausted he hasn't slept he still hears the screams and the blast in his mind so he slowly lets the man in not to everything. Not to his dad but to the blast. He was diagnosed with Complex PTSD and he was offered many ways to help with it. He goes to his sessions. He does his physio. Alex slowly builds himself up then he goes back to work.

It goes well for the most part until someone slams a door shut and he has to spend an hour in the bathroom trying to eradicate the weight on his chest and how to stop feeling cold. His therapist offers anti-anxiety medication and whilst he nods his head eyes cloudy he hears his father's words.

"Manes men don't cry it's a sign of weakness. We are soldiers, not Sally's"

He tries different antidepressants settling on one that helps his thoughts slower and that helps him sleep. None of his friends knows it when he heads back to Roswell except Kyle after he's let in on the alien secret and he makes him his doctor in case of shenanigans.

His father dies and he thinks maybe things can be different better in a way he never thought possible. The statue gets put up and he has a panic attack so bad he spends the next two days in bed. It takes him two weeks to think about it really think about it. To face the battle he has to jump right in and the idea of therapy doesn't seem so suffocating any more he's no longer afraid just determined to make strides. With Kyle's help, he finds one that specialises in childhood domestic abuse as well as having experience with veterans. She helps him in ways he didn't think was possible and maybe a year ago the idea of the traffic light method would have had him rolling his eyes or silently repressing whatever emotions he had. But maybe this could be a good thing.

Michael is the first to notice they are on a recon mission together and he's passing across the really good coffee from Bean me up he raises his eyebrows at the sight of an orange bracelet.

"Didn't think you liked orange? expanding the airforce's colour scheme?"

He huffs at that. Who said he didn't like orange?

"My therapist said because of my upbringing and complex PTSD I have a hard time vocalising or communicating my feelings so she suggested a traffic light method. Green is a good day when my emotions are in check. Orange is okay I can manage the day. Red is when-

"everything too much"

"Yeah. On red days I write down everything as to why it's red including my triggers and talk them over with her. It also helps people around me recognise when I'm in that headspace"

Michael shuts his door purses his lips and blows into his own coffee cup.

"I'm glad you're talking to someone"

"Me too. Now, are we gonna recreate a buddy cop movie extraterrestrial style or what? Come on, Guerin don't tell me you don't want to unleash your nerd. This is a safe place"

Michael takes a swig of his own coffee shaking his head before chuckling and taking the wheel. Maybe they share a lot more longing looks then friends would normally. They've just always had a connection under the surface beating and bubbling all on its own.Unspoken and beautiful.

More often then not he wears the orange one. The first time the green bracelet graces his wrist is the day the homeless dog he found slowly offers her belly to be rubbed. Yeah, that day was worthy of a green one. The day Nova finds him and the days that follow which end in his house having a dog bed in pretty much every corner. He might end up replacing his leather couch but who cares it's just a couch. It has nothing on her.

It's only when the days veer closer to the fourth anniversary of that day he truly struggles. Phantom pain comes in waves and he grips every surface he comes in contact with. The days slowly blur together it's a cocktail of depression, sleep deprivation and nightmares that has him on the Tuesday reach for the red bracelet. He finds the Crashdown is a minute from where he is and he's in desperate need for coffee.

Communicating hasn't always been easy for him and Michael especially their fight and flight being fight or fuck over the past decade but they've been trying their hardest to strive to be better to build a foundation. The bracelets were always something Michael immediately sought out every time they were in each other's vicinity. He saunters into the Crashdown buckle first and smooshes himself into the booth without a second thought grabbing one of the menus and seeing what new alien pun food Isobel helped conjure. It isn't until he finishes his order smiling at Liz that he finally looks up to Alex who's completely dissociated. His eyes are dark and sunken his milkshake untouched and he just looks lost. Michael's eyes drift to Alex's fingers noting the tremors before his eyes peer up further and he sees the red bracelet. Michael has a choice at this moment he could leave Alex to it but something in his heart tells him that the days of leaving are behind them. So he slowly reaches for the right hand that tremors and lightly laces the fingers between them. By the time he's halfway through his fries, Alex is more self-aware. He looks to their joined fingers and Michael's mouth completely stuffed with fries and looks softly at him. He doesn't unlace them.

"Want to get out of here?"

They end up in their spot the desert vast and unnerving.

"Did I do the right thing driving us here does it bring up anything we can go back if you want? You never really told any of us what to do on a code red day".

He's right he didn't say to any of them what to do. Truth is anytime Alex usually has one of these days he locks himself in a room and allows every ugly emotion to override him until his body tells him otherwise. Today was a new one in that he wanted connection. He wanted to be with Michael and despite the fear of the unknown he confesses this to Michael.

"It'll be four years Sunday"

"Since your leg?"

Alex nods he doesn't really know how to delve into it the only people who know what happened are the people at the airforce. People don't ask they don't want to know and the people who do aren't worthy of the conversation. Not to mention a lot of his job is classified he can only offer what he can.

"It was meant to be a simple job. Twenty of us in and out.Forty minutes on the dot. I was meant to hack a server. We got to the room we swept the entire place we didn't realise there was a pressure-sensitive bomb until Avril took his foot off. He was the youngest".

Recalling it makes his body shiver his hands shake but he needs to do this.

"Only eight of us made it out. Everyone else had spouses and kids. I had a dad who when I woke up from a two-week coma said I couldn't get blown up right. I didn't understand it. I'm good at compartmentalising stuff it's what he taught me to do my whole life but that day...I felt everything then nothing."

They lay there for a while staring at the stars tracing them with their fingers with one hand lacing the other. There's a light breeze softly swaying in the air Alex softly turns his body to Michael's until they are laying on the side facing one another. 

"I get that feeling"

The confession Michael makes his heart ache and tighten he ushers the cowboy closer his fingers searching for his curls to slowly run his fingers through. Michael ends up the little spoon and judging by the little hum he makes he thinks he doesn't mind a little bit. Michael had the essence of a cat it's one of the many reasons he loves him.

"I know you do"

He pulls Michael tighter resting his head on his curls lightly pecking the crevice of his head.

"I think it's probably why we push each other away so much. I don't want the painful stuff I've been through to trigger or touch your stuff and neither do you so we pick a reason to walk away thinking the other one will be better off. I haven't been better off have you?"

Michael removes himself from his hold much to his disappointment and sitting up because he needs this conversation to be that of what it is a conversation.

"There hasn't been a day you've been gone where I thought that Alex. I'm just sorry for so many things"

"me too"

By the time he makes it to his house Alex is wiped he needs to feed Nova before she barks the house down. He also should really clean his prosthetic liner doesn't want to wind up getting sick. Not to mention taking his pain meds. Trust Michael to recognise all of this and tells him he'll feed her. He wants to argue but his eyes are drifting.

When he wakes up there's a glass of water his pain and anxiety meds on the bedside table and he's trying to remember how the hell he made it to his bed. Last time he checked he KO'd on the sofa as Nova was yipping at Michael's feet.

Michael.

Alex fumbles for his crutch and heads for the living room maybe he shouldn't make a presumption but he's pretty sure he knows his alien from the back of his hand and sure enough, he comes across to Michael and his Nova sharing the couch or Nova dominating both these things as if they are her own. It's the first time in a long time he's slept and he's hoping it's the first of many times he wakes up to Michael in his house. By the time he makes it back to the bedroom, he's staring at the red bracelet on his wrist and the notebook Michael also placed by the pill bottles sticky note on the top with a drawing of a lopsided penny. He spends twenty minutes writing it all down his triggers that day the way he felt all to make sure for his next session he can talk about it continue to make progress. By the time he's put the pen down and taken his anti-anxiety pill, he's greeted by his girl in the zoomies frame of mind.

"Hey, girl. Do you want to play? Give me a minute to put the leg on sweetie and I'll take you to the garden"

He stares at the three bracelets all meaning different things. Today isn't a red bracelet day so he turns to the orange one. It makes the most sense, doesn't it? Today he can manage yet there's something calling him to the green one. Can he go from red to green from a couple of hours? He'll make sure to ask in his next sessions but Nova excitedly barking wanting to play is reason enough for him to tie the green braids to his wrist.

"Do you always feel the need to dramatically lean against doorways".

His Michael senses are tingling he can't decide if it's a loving Michael thing or maybe the whole cosmic alien soulmate thing.

"You're wearing green today".

"Observant too"

He takes the coffee on offer delighting in the way the black bitterness soothes his soul.

"I think today could be a good day. Nova's happy. Plus you and I had an actual conversation which didn't end in tears, fucking or brokeback mountain angst"

Michael's not wearing his hat or his belt he's just leaning against the door frame with bedhead of the ages curls veering in every destination. He wants to run his hands through them and hold him. Fuck it who says he can't. He curls his head into his shoulder much to his surprise and tucks his arm to hold his waist. He feels the chuckle rumble against his ears

"We've had what ten years of it angst is overrated. You know what's underrated?"

"What?"

"Having breakfast. Holding hands. Watching a movie. Being boyfriends"

Alex feels a kiss against his head and peaks up to Michael softly cupping his cheeks he makes sure Alex's eyes are on his not looking away.

"I love you. If you aren't there yet that's okay. I don't want to mess with your recovery. If you don't want to be with me after everything that's okay too. I just want you to know I'm here and I'm not going anywhere"

Alex puts the cup of coffee down and brings his head up so their foreheads touch.

"I love you too".

Alex knows love won't cure everything and being with Michael doesn't mean it's automatically going to be green bracelets all the time. The red bracelet won't cease to exist. He still gets red days. But he does know this. Whatever the day and whatever colour he wears Michael will rub circles into his hand and hold it just the same. Some days he has a depressive episode or an anxiety attack and between his therapist and the people he loves they help him recognise it's okay. It's okay to be loved. It's okay to need and want people. His father's words can stay in the ground with him. Alex is finally content.

[hopecountysfavhoe]

‘Cold’ Chapter Sixteen Pt.1

Rating: 18+? This rating thing is harder than I thought it would be lmao

Word count: 2,271

The Deputy woke up in a familiar bed. Her head was pounding, causing her to keep her eyes shut. Then she heard it.

Beep, beep, beep.

     The gentle beeping of the heart rate monitor in the clinic. Instantly her eyes shot open. The Deputy looked around at the room she was in, it was the clinic room she fought to get out of so desperately. She tried to rub her face but something blocked her hand from lifting. She looked down and saw that her hands were hand cuffed to the edge of the clinic bed.

     She tried to remember what happened and how she got to the clinic. She remembered shooting with Grace and the walk back to the church but after that it got dark. Panic suddenly grabbed hold as she went down the list of what could have happened. What if she heard 'Only You' and hurt Grace? What if she hurt Nick or Kim or even worse, Carmina? The Deputy struggled against the handcuffs, desperately trying to find someone to tell her what happened.

     Hearing the Deputy struggle, the doctor walked in to check on her.

     "Good, you're awake." She greeted in a kind voice and pulled out a clipboard.

     "What happened? Did I hurt anybody? Why am I handcuffed?" The words stumbled out of the Deputy's mouth quicker than she could sit up.

     "Everything is fine, you just gave your friends a good scare. You were shot with a Bliss Bullet but thankfully Grace was able to get you out of harms way before any Peggies got their hands on you. As for your handcuffs those are just precautionary to make sure you don't hurt yourself or yank out an IV." Relief from the doctor's words instantly made the Deputy relax. She leaned back into the bed, not straining against her holds. "All of the Bliss should be out of your system by now." The Doctor said and checked an IV she had hooked up to the Deputy.

     "How long do I have to stay here?" The Deputy asked as the doctor unlocked her handcuffs.

     "I can discharge you now, but you have to use your crutch. And have you been taking your pills?" The doctor asked and the Deputy nodded while rubbing her wrists.

     "Everyday at the 8 am and again at 8pm." The Deputy informed her and the doctor nodded.

     She scribbled a note on her clipboard before she looked down at the Deputy. Her face told the Deputy exactly what she was going to say before she even said it. "What did I say about gunfights?" She asked.

     "I didn't even do anything this time! I was just walking with Grace and I got shot." The Deputy defended herself and the doctor nodded.

     "Look, I get it. You don't like taking a break, you want to get back out there and protect people but your health has to come first." The doctor lectured her and the Deputy pushed her hair out of her face.

     "I understand but I can't just take a break. People die if I take a break, my friends die if I take a break." The Deputy argued and the doctor held up her hands defensively, she didn't want to get the Deputy too upset.

     "While you heal a little more just help people in a different way, maybe you can deliver food to people or help plant a garden? Just something that doesn't get you put in harms way. You got lucky this time, Deputy. Your reaction to the Bliss didn't cause you to re-injure  yourself, but I don't know if that kind of luck will last. I'm discharging you but you still need to be back for that two week check up." The doctor's words were firm and the Deputy knew there would be no swaying her mind.

     But the Deputy was an adult and she could make her own decisions, even if they were the wrong ones so the Deputy just agreed to whatever the doctor told her to do so that she could stop fussing even if she knew she would ignore the doctor. The Deputy got discharged and left the clinic, happy to be out of that place.

     She found her truck sitting in the driveway, that must have been what Grace drove her to the clinic in. The Deputy got in and drove back to Nick and Kim's house to apologize for scaring them.

     When she pulled up to the house Nick was working on his truck in the front driveway. "Hey Nick." The Deputy greeted and got out of her truck.

     Nick was bent over the hood, fiddling with something in engine. When he heard the truck pull up he glanced back to see who it was. When he saw the Deputy get out of the truck he backed out of the hood and turned to face her.

     "Hey Dep, how are ya feeling?" He asked and immediately the Deputy noticed he had a black eye.

     "What happened to your eye?" The Deputy ignored his question.

      "It's nothing." Nick turned back to look at the truck, he always did that when he was deflecting.

      "Did I do that to you?" The Deputy asked, her tone softened with concern.

     Nick turned back around to face the Deputy, his head angled toward the dirt. "Kinda, well not really, but yeah..."

     The Deputy rubbed her forehead. "I'm sorry." She apologized. "Did I hurt anyone else?"

     "No, me and Grace held you down before you could hurt anybody." He admitted and the Deputy let out a deep sigh.

     "I'm really sorry, Nick. It won't ever happen again." The Deputy kept apologizing, shame and fear evident in her voice.

      "Hey Dep it's ok, I know it wasn't directed towards me. It's fine now anyway right?" Nick asked and the Deputy shook her head.

     "I shouldn't be here, I'm putting you and Kim and Carmina at risk especially with John looking for me." The Deputy told Nick and he looked to the ground.

      "As much as I hate it, I think that's true. I'm sorry Dep, you know you're welcome anytime but maybe you should stay somewhere safer, just till things die down a little bit." He suggested and the Deputy nodded.

     "I'm gonna go stay with Sharky for a while ok? Just until things blow over some. I have to go grab my crutch and my jacket." The Deputy wasn't angry with Nick's suggestion, actually she was happy about it. Now she didn't have to worry about taking advantage of Nick and Kim or about John's men coming in in the middle of the night for her.

     Nick nodded and let her go to the house. "Kim isn't here, just so you know. She took Carmina over to a friends house." Nick advised the Deputy.

     "Got it, thanks." The Deputy walked up the front steps and made short work of finding her crutch and jacket. It looked like it was in the middle of being mended. Kim has stitched up numerous holes and the frayed hem of her sleeve. The Deputy didn't remember asking her to do that but it was heart warming.

     Honestly the Deputy didn't know why she'd even come there other than Kim's wishes. She was putting everyone in that home in danger just by being near it, she was putting Carmina in danger. The thought of something happening to any of them because of her made the Deputy's stomach turn.

     Before she left the Deputy found a piece of paper and wrote a note to Nick and Kim thanking them for letting her stay with them. She set the note on the coffee table and grabbed her jacket and crutch and left the house. She said one final goodbye to Nick and drove off.

While she drove the Deputy felt around in the pockets of her jeans until she found what she was looking for. It was a small paper note that she'd peeled off the Bliss bullet when it first shot her. Now she unfolded the tiny note and read what it said.

Come home, soldier.

It was Jacob, he'd found her.

The Deputy fumed while she drove. Jacob fucking Seed was the one that shot her, or at least he sent one of his men to shoot her. Everything added up to him being there though. There was no capture party, there were no hunters, nobody to pick her up. He just shot her with a Bliss bullet to fuck with her head, not to kidnap her.

The Deputy muttered curses to herself (and Jacob) while she watched the scenery around her change from the warm sunny fields of Holland Valley to the tall pines and old cabins of the Whitetail Mountains. She may have told Nick that she was going to spend sometime with Sharky but she changed her mind. She had some revenge to take.

She'd already called Jess on the radio and asked her to meet her at the lumbar mill. Jess was more than happy to agree, especially after hearing the vengeful tone in her voice. When she pulled up to the lumbar mill Jess was already standing out front, her bow ready in her hands. The Deputy didn't get out of the truck, just stopped and let Jess get in.

"Where are we going?" Jess asked while she hopped in the passenger seat.

"I don't know but it might get messy." The Deputy warned as she backed out the way she came.

They drove in silence for a while, not even listening to the radio. Jess glanced over at the Deputy. "Not that I don't love this new vengeful side of you but I gotta ask, where is it coming from?" She asked as the Deputy pulled down a random dirt road.

"You know how they say 'it's all fun and games till you kick the hornets' nest'?" The Deputy asked and slowed the truck to a halt.

"I don't think anyone says that but I get the point." Jess admitted and looked over at the Deputy while she put the truck in park.

"Well Jacob Seed has officially kicked this hornet's nest." The Deputy shut off the truck and hopped out. Jess followed her as she marched into the woods.

"Alright! Now we can have some real fun!" Jess exclaimed and hefted her bow. "What are we gonna do to him?"

"We're pretty close to the Veterans Centre, aren't we?" The Deputy asked and Jess nodded. "We're going to send Jacob a little surprise." The dark tone in the Deputy's voice was making Jess uncomfortable. Yes that is Jess as in the trash-talking, scary Jess. So her being uncomfortable meant a lot.

"What are you planning?" She asked hesitantly. She of course wanted to fuck with Jacob but she didn't know how far the Deputy was willing to go.

"You'll see." The Deputy assured her and snuck through the trees. They walked in silence until they could hear the sound of the Veterans Centre, the men training and Judges howling, the trucks driving in and out. It was bustling. The Deputy and Jess managed to avoid every guard that Jacob had stationed around the place as a perimeter.

They got pretty close to the Veterans Centre, perched up on the same hill that Jess was shooting the guards from when they got the Deputy back. The Deputy looked into the Centre with her binoculars.

"What are we doing?" Jess whispered to her friend.

"I need you to shoot one of those guards with your bow."

"Sounds easy."

"And I want you to tie this on your arrow." The Deputy handed Jess a small note. Jess unfolded it and read it.

"Do you really think I'm going to let you do this?" Jess asked as the Deputy went back to counting guards with her binoculars.

"Don't worry, I have a plan. Can you do it?" She asked and Jess, of course, nodded.

Jess refolded the note and tied it to an arrow. "Who do you want me to hit?"

The Deputy found a guard standing on the front step that seemed perfect. He was in clear view of most everyone there and besides, how perfect would it be to send Jacob a message right to his front door? "The one on the front step." She said and Jess nodded.

It was a pretty far shot but Jess knew she could make it. She pulled the arrow back in her bow, aiming for the perfect arch to hit the guard. She took a deep breath and let the arrow fly. Immediately they both ducked down to prevent getting spotted and the Deputy peaked in at the scene of chaos through her binoculars.

The arrow hit dead on in the guards neck, causing him to crumble immediately. As quick as he fell the entire Centre erupted like an anthill. People rushed and grabbed guns, preparing for an attack. "That's our queue." The Deputy nodded to Jess and they both turned and slid down the hill further into the forest and away from the Veterans Centre.

It wouldn't take long for Jacob's men to radio the guards around the perimeter to be on high alert so the Deputy and Jess had to make it past the guards first. They made their escape with only the one casualty, not killing a single other guard or hunter or anything.

When they made it to the Deputy's truck she couldn't help but grin. She knew for sure that that was going to get Jacob's attention. Now all she had to do was wait.

[ofanya]

STATS / PINTEREST / CONNECTIONS / CLASSES

⌠ NATALIA DYER, 21, CISFEMALE, SHE/HER ⌡ welcome back to gallagher academy, ANYA CASIRAGHI! according to their records, they’re a SECOND year, specializing in AWARENESS TRAINING, BREATH CONTROL, HAND TO HAND COMBAT + RESEARCH & DEVELOPMENT; and they DID NOT go to a spy prep high school. when i see them walking around in the halls, i usually see a flash of (embroidery on lace, waking up early to catch the sunset, the scent of fresh strawberries, perfect balance on tiptoes). when it’s the (libra)’s birthday on 9/24/99, they always request their ARANCINI DI RISO from the school’s chefs. looks like they’re well on their way to graduation. ⌿ kati, 24, she/her, est ⍀ @gallagherintro

INSPIRATION.

cho chang – harry potter 

grace blood – skins

esme cullen – twilight 

yue – avatar the last airbender

lexi howard – euphoria

laurel castillo – how to get away with murder

jane bennett – pride and predjudice 

ann perkins – parks & rec

kwon sun-hwa – lost

BACKGROUND + CLICK FOR BIO.

anya is the third-born casiraghi child after salvatore (oldest) and nico (second-oldest) and the first girl. she’s labeled extremely bright from a young age, but she doesn’t start speaking until she’s almost five years old. the casiraghi parents aren’t even concerned, they don’t think speech is an important quality for a girl. 

the first thing she ever says is a full sentence: “i want to go out with the boys.” it’s almost as if she could have spoken this whole time, she’d just been waiting. but of course, she’s told no, and she wants to be part of the lives that nico and salvatore lead but she���s pushed the side and told to be something else, something more ornamental. 

goes to ballet and etiquette classes instead ( the casiraghis are taught in their own home, much too good for even the best of private schools ) and often feels like she has to make up or carry things in lieu of the behavior of her younger sister. cecilia is reckless and insolent, does what she likes, and anya is jealous, but not jealous enough to do the same. anya is held to a higher standard as she’s meant to set an example and there’s a bit of bitterness that grows in her because of that. 

anya teaches herself as much about finance and business as salvatore and nico, but instead of her business or career prospects, her parents talk only of marriage proposals and future prospects. the education in espionage is a placeholder, she learns things so she’ll be able to make intelligent small talk at dinner parties or be a good companion for a man someday, not because she can run an empire. it’s very frustrating, but she takes this quietly, as always.

(DRUG ABUSE/OPIOIDS TW) anya breaks her ankle in dance practice when she’s 16, a compound fracture. it’ll heal, but she will never be able to dance in the same way again. there’s a numbness inside of her that only seems to be assuaged by the pills prescribed by her doctor that are intended to ease the pain. the pills ease the tightness in your chest every time she sits at the dinner table and long after her ankle heals, anya continues to use the pills like a crutch.

(OVERDOSE TW) she overdoses at 17 and is sent to a rehab facility. the entire ordeal is done very quietly, made to seem like a pleasant vacation – a dirty secret, something to be ashamed of, and it’s emphasized that anya should be so grateful to her family for taking care of her when she’s such a disappointment. she spends the summer at the best facility that money can by, and she returns clean, determined not to be such a disappointment, but the numbness doesn’t seem to quite fade. 

she heads to gallagher academy at 19, following her brother nico to school in america. she has no idea of the legal proceedings going on under her nose because she’s just so excited to get out of the house, unaware why her parents are so quick to send her away. nico hates it, finds it unpleasant and uncouth and a lot of the students are slovenly, but anya loves it, thrives under the guise of freedom and the ability to speak in a classroom where her voice matters.

naturally, the casiraghi family loses everything, as you might recall. her parents say that anya’s lucky she’s pretty because she could still marry nicely, and if it’s soon then the casiraghi name might still mean something. they remind anya of how much she owes them, how good they were to her when she attempted to sour the family name.

PERSONALITY.

DIPLOMATIC. is really good at choosing her words in a way that keeps the peace and is very intentional about the language that she chooses to use. she believes a lot in 'fairness’ and everyone getting a fair chance at things, so on, and she’s good at controlling difficult situations without upsetting ppl. 

NURTURING. has a very caring personality and always wants to look after others. she’s this way with plants and animals as well, and i think she’s really good at encouraging people to achieve their goals or advocate for themselves, she just can’t...do that for herself. but she will take care of u and smother u but in a loving way. 

RELIABLE. will show up at your doorstep in the rain with an umbrella, the first person to complete everything in the group project, if she makes you a promise she will follow through and then some. u can say some shit about anya, but she is fucking dependable and will come through for you whenever you need her most or you don’t think you need her at all, she’s still there. 

NON-CONFRONTATIONAL. will go out of her way to avoid a fight or try to keep the peace, she will also do this with others, putting herself in the middle of things to keep other people from fighting – she just will do ANYTHING to avoid a confrontation. annoying tbh. 

NAIVE. she really doesn’t know much about the world at large and will always find herself believing the best in people or hoping for the best case scenario when it isn’t always true. this could be seen as a good thing, but i think pretty much anyone has the ability to take advantage of her, it’s not hard. 

TIMID. anya has always had trouble advocating for herself and what she really wants, she has a lack of courage when it comes to fighting for her own passions and will easily take a backseat for others to take the spotlight. one direction vc: u don’t know ur beautiful

HEADCANONS.

idk why my brain was like . try to make this char into modern commentary on the 50s housewife but here we are 

i had no idea what i was doing with her late-talking thing except trying to somehow manifest how oppressive her home was, but rowan sent me some article about einstein syndrome and how late talkers like anya are highly analytical thinkers so we’re going with that ! 

was jumped on by a very big dog when she was very small and her face got scratched, so she has a bit of a fear of large dogs...it’s not that she doesn’t like them in theory, they just scare her and she hasn’t seemed to outgrow it. 

still loves to dance even though she’s well aware that she could never really do it professionally or on stage because of the way her ankle won’t bend, but you can usually catch her...somewhere on gallagher’s campus where she could practice privately ? 

also does a lot of yoga to center herself, she loves early mornings and generally her routine is to get up, make a cup of tea, watch the sunrise and then do a little bit of yoga. routine makes her feel in control so she has a habit of sticking to it.

loves to bake and is really good at it ! happy to binge great british bakeoff with anyone but then she will want to try all of the recipes and challenges herself. she likes the exact science of it and it’s another one of her hobbies that helps her feel like she maintains a sort of balance within herself. if you do it right, it all works out – baking makes sense.

she’s had one certain relationship when she was pretty young and definitely is not a person for one night stands, so...she’s a virgin ! 

in general she is baby but she is also mom. 

does not like most green vegetables but especially brussel sprouts. 

will wince when other people curse, has a tendency to speak very proper herself because of the way that she was raised. has extremely good manners, table or otherwise.  

gets really easily overwhelmed at big parties or functions with crowds of people and will generally find some excuse in order to, well, excuse herself. she just feels like she has to be ON all the time and it’s very exhausting to her, would much rather curl up and watch movies or something. 

is very straight edge, doesn’t drink/smoke/etc as a result of her past, she stays away from anything that could increase temptation and make her fall back into past habits. 

had/has a cat at home named gio, technically the family cat but it always felt the most like anya’s and it would sleep with her and everything however since the house was seized, no one has been able to find gio </3

WANTED CONNECTIONS.

best friend – i know, it’s hard to just plot this, but ! i would love someone who maybe was her roommate last year, the first person that anya met on campus and they just clicked right away and made anya feel really at home. i would love if this character was a foil for anya’s nurturing, softspoken nature, so a girl who is a bit louder and more confident. 

childhood crush – idk someone who could have known the casiraghi family for years or operated in that scene, maybe from a wealthy family and anya has a long-time unrequited crush on them. anya’s really kind, but she probably acts a bit standoffish or rude toward this character, so they probably think she hates them.  

bad influence – a character who’s a bit on the wild side who’s turned anya into their project – they want to get her out of her shell, help anya let loose and get out more, but maybe this is also some bad temptation for her since she has some...old bad habits. 

good influence (on) – anya is PEAK mom friend, so i’m looking for a connection that really displays that, someone she looks after. she’s the first person they call when they’re too fucked up and she’s always texting them the homework (and maybe the answers too).

ex-family friends – maybe your character’s family testified against the casiraghi family in the court case and helped send anya’s parents to prison. so, anya and your character used to be close friends but now she avoids your character out of familial obligation. 

fake dating? anya’s parents would like to pressure her into an engagement or see her with someone well-off, so if your character is from a rich asf family, perhaps they’ve done anya a solid. they’re not actually fake dating around campus or lying to their friends, but they’re close friends with anya and might go home with her to perpetrate the lie on a holiday when she goes to see sal and maybe they have taken a few cute selfies together for anya to send home – it would probably be YOUR character that suggests this to anya and encourages her to have a bit of freedom, so i imagine our chars would be friends. 

first love/ex – someone that anya might have known or met when she was younger, probably through family connections. they would’ve been around 15 at the time, so a genuine first relationship (like probably first kiss for her), but at this age her mental health was really bad and they probably broke up as a result of going to rehab. perhaps they feel guilty about not being more supportive or perhaps they did all they could but it was too heavy? we can discuss, but either way, super angsty.

protector – idk i would just love if someone saw how much of herself she puts into taking care of others and wanted to take care of her/look out for her instead and they’re just that friend who is really protective of her and reminds her to look after herself too

crush – i just want her to have a little bit of a crush/affinity for a girl that helps her realize that she’s not straight because she’s too repressed and never considered anything except heterosexuality til this point idk i just like when girls.

enemy – probably an ex-friend or something like that. maybe anya trusted them with a secret and they betrayed her or they tried to throw her under the bus to gain something. or maybe anya just got on your character’s bad side by being too much of a goody-two-shoes.

idk give me someone that relentlessly flirts with her because they think it’s hilarious that she gets so shy and doesn’t really know what to do about it, and she really does not know what to do about it ! 

also am down to brainstorm since i know the casiraghis already have a bit of a reputation so...i’m blessed taking a sibling connection and perhaps we can just bounce off of things you’ve already plotted with deanna and/or kit ( cecilia & n*co ) !

[rae-is-typing]

Minor Injury, Overprotective Bucky

Anonymous requested: Hi! I was wondering if you could do a fem!teen!reader where she gets injured on a mission and the whole team freaks out and they are all super protective of her after, especially bucky because he sees her as a little sister? Thanks!

Characters: You, Clint Barton, Bucky Barnes, Bruce Banner, and a random medic

Warnings: Explosions, sprained ankle, being picked up against one's will

Disclaimer: this ain't my best work. I know this is an excuse, but im on a trip w/o WiFi so I wrote this super fast on my phone. I'm so sorry :(

Word count: 1.3k

You really didn't hurt yourself that badly. Bucky was just overreacting.

The mission was simple: get a file from an active HYDRA base and skedaddle before you got yourself hurt.

Easy, right?

Apparently not.

You jumped off the Quinn Jet (with a parachute, thank you very much Mr. Barnes) and landed several yards away from the base.

You abandoned the parachute and began to run to the base. You sprinted through thicket and trees, humid summer heat coupled with the natural atmosphere of the location meant you were already dripping sweat.

You slowed to a jog and eventually to a stop behind a large tree as you reached the base.

A few unsuspecting HYDRA agents were surrounding a few vehicles, examining them and talking. Guards stood at the door in the south entrance and others along the fence.

You bit your lip, slowly creeping along the tree line until it was safe for you to start running again.

You broke into a run, taking care as to not make a ton of noise. You managed to make your way to the east entrance where it was significantly less guarded.

One guard sat by the entrance, one leg folded over the other and his hat covering his face. His head was tipped back.

You smirked. Score.

You jogged to the entrance. The steel door towered above you. You looked at it, bit your lip and took a step back. There was a small black box sitting on the wall by the gigantic door. You looked back to the guard, spotting an ID badge.

You held your breath as you reached for the badge, making as little noise as possible. As soon as the cool plastic badge met your skin, you paused. He squirmed in his seat, adjusted his hat and settled.

You let out your breath and went back to stealing the idiot's badge. You unclipped it and shot back to the door. You held the bagel to the box. No sound was made as the door opened. You slipped in and opened the digital map Stark had given to everyone.

You needed to head back to the southern part of the base to retrieve the file in question. You looked around, spotting a vent.

"Fri, are the vents safe?" You whisper, beginning to pull of the cover.

"Yes. They are safe to move through." Friday responds after a moment.

After you pull of the metal cover, you army crawl to the southern part of the base.

Your elbows hurt as you crawled to where you were supposed to be. There wasn't a semblance of a doubt in your mind that they'd be bruised when you were getting your mandatory post-mission check up by the medics.

"You are in the right location, Y/N." Friday's automated voice range through the comms. "There is a cover a few feet in front of you."

"Thanks, Fri." You grunted, continuing to the vent cover.

"Anyone below me?"

"Negative."

You kicked out the cover and slid out of the vents. The only thing in the room was a huge system of monitors filling the area. You dashed towards them, immediately beginning to hack them.

The only reason your were on the team was because of you ability to hack into any machine that was put in front of you. It was your superpower.

Halfway through your task, you heard a crash, gunshots and yelling.

"Shit, shit, shit!" You snap, typing quicker. You thrust the flash drive into the computer system and begin uploading the file. The yelling got louder and the gunshots didn't stop. It was getting closer to you. Your hair stood on end as you urged the file to upload at a faster pace. Soon enough, a large boom resounded through the base and the floor shook.

"Y/L/N! Get outta there!" You heard Clint yell.

"The file's almost uploaded!" You tell back. It was at 98%.

"How much longer? This place is going to blow soon, kid!"

"Like, a few seconds." You say, already gripping the end of the hard drive. As soon as it hit 100%, you yanked it out and sprinted to the nearest exit with Friday's guidance.

You got out just in time for the place to be blown to smithereens. The impact of the blast sent you flying. You landed on your ankle and instantly felt pain shoot up your leg. Your body slammed on the ground, effectively knocking the air from your system.

You clutch your foot and clench your teeth to keep from screaming out in pain.

"Y/N? Come in!" Clint's worried voice rang in your ear. "Y/N!"

"I'm alive. But in pain. My ankle- I don't know what happened. I don't think I can walk." You manage to bring out, tearing up a little bit.

"Okay. Barnes is on his way to you. Did you get the file?"

"Yeah, I got it."

"Good job, kid. Hang tight, help is coming."

You press two fingers around your ankle, checking for any broken bone. You couldn't feel any tell tale signs of a fracture. Biting your lip, you manage to scoot a couple feet back to rest against a tree.

Bucky came within the minute, face masked by his suit. He said nothing as he picked you up and began to run to the jet. You press your face against his chest and let yourself cry a little. The jostling didn't help your pain at all, and the throbbing just got worse.

Everyone was waiting on the Quinn Jet for the two of you. Bucky placed you gently on one of the cots. Bruce managed to roll up your panteg enough to reveal your now swollen ankle. He made a face while.checking it out. You wince sharply, tensing up.

"This looks like a really bad sprain. I'll order an x-ray for it as soon as we get back. Here, take this. It'll help with the pain and swelling." He placed two white pills in your hand and gave you a water bottle along with it. You take it without fuss.

"Thanks. Here's the file." You pass him the hard drive.

You lay back in the cot. The pain wore off, as did your adrenaline. You only meant to close your eyes for a moment, not the rest of the trip.

Jostling woke you up.

"Buck?" You ask, rubbing an eye.

"Hey, doll. You got yourself pretty hurt back there."

"I didn't mean to fuck my ankle up." You frown, indignant. "You can put me down. I'm sure I'm fine."

"Not happening, kid. Stevie's told me that too many times."

The medics took their time when examining you. The results came back, and Bruce was right. It was just a really bad sprain.

"Alright, Y/N. Ice it a few times a day, elevate it and get some rest. Take some ibuprofen for pain and swelling. Come back if the pain gets worse."

You nod. "Thanks."

The medic smiles. "Here are some crutches,"

You take them and hobble to the conference room where everyone else was debriefing.

"Where do you think you're going?"

You turn your head to see a freshly showered Bucky crossing his arms with an eyebrow cocked.

"The debriefing."

"No you're not. You are going straight to bed, young lady."

"Excuse me?" You laugh.

"You heard me. Bed."

"I'm going to the debriefing." You turn back, hobbling forward the best you could.

"Alright, c'mon." He easily catches up to you. He put his hands on the crutches, pulled one away and picked you up.

You squeaked and threw your arms around his neck. "Put me down!"

"Nope. I'm gonna come down later and grab these for you so you don't have to worry bout a thing, doll. You're resting."

"No," you say, pushing against his chest, surely looking like a toddler throwing a fit. Bucky chuckles, continuing to your room.

"Rest first. You need to get better."