#was not so i was like okay breathalyze me

[baldursgrape]

i had a taser pulled on me by a cop last year for falling asleep at a bus stop and then refusing his "offer" for a ride home

[likelylarks]

thinking about that anon that called me miss larks,,,, like i know that wasn’t the point of their anon but i’m still not over it,, someone tell me how to present as not a girlie/not a miss/etc

[lokisremainingsanity]

Moonknight system getting in trouble

content: just scenarios of Steven, Marc, and Jake with their girlfriend, a boss woman who loves them very much, slight angst with comfort, and drinking

~ava!🍓

I like to imagine the moonboys being with their lover, who's extremely mother-like. She's always taking care of them, worrying about them, defending them, and overall just as protective as a lioness over her cubs. Whenever one of them causes trouble though, she'll appropriately punish them. The days that "Ms Grant" is mad (at Steven) she'll go easy on him because he's too soft for her to scold harshly.

"Steven, this is the third time you've forgotten your lunch at home."

You stood there in your suit with your hand on your hip, looking at him sternly as you held his fully packed lunchbox you made him this morning in the other hand.

Steven was surprised you actually came to drop it off right at his cubical in the break room, since you had a booked day of meetings today. He felt terrible, that he was probably taking up your only break of the day.

"I- I'm so sorry, lovie-" He walked to you shamefully as he tried to apologize.

"That's the same thing you said last time, and the time before it. I did not come all the way through busy Piccadilly street here for an apology." You still were talking in your work voice, the business woman voice that showed you meant business. Steven's hot face reddened and his knees almost buckled from your authoritative voice.

"I..um.. I-" He started stammering under your gaze, and you came closer to him and held his face. He still looked down at the floor in shame, until you told him "Steven, look at me.". He looks up at you with slightly wet eyes.

"I came here for a promise from you. I am only upset because I care about you, you know that right? I don't want my baby skipping his lunch especially if I made it. This is so you learn next time not to do it again, okay honey? Promise me that. " You baby-talked him and looked at him with only a mother's care in your eyes.

"y-yes. I understand lovie. I won't do it again. I promise."

And that's how Steven got off with Ms. Grant's wrath easily. Marc on the other hand...

He came back from his nightly routine of serving the Egyptian Moon God to an empty apartment. He saw things.. that triggered unwanted memories. Of course, instead of waiting for you to come back and help him, he decides to indulge in old coping habits: Drinking.

So that's how you came home from a busy day at work to an immensely drunken Marc Spector. He lays on your couch with an almost full alcohol bottle, with plenty of empty ones at his feet. He's slouched and just as he tips his head back to take another sip the bottle is swiped away from him.

"Marc! What is this?!" you hiss lowly at him as you point to the trashed floor with the bottle.

He doesn't even say anything, he just looks at you with hooded eyes.

"Just stay where you are."

You go put the bottle away in the kitchen and return with a breathalyzer. Standing in front of him with it, you gently take his chin, "Open." and he does just as you say. As you wait for the number to pop up, you take notice of his disheveled appearance, messy hair, and bloodshot eyes. Something bad must have happened for him to relapse this bad.

0 . 1 6 m g / L

The breathalyzer reads.

"Holy shit, Marc.", he has you worried. Urgently, you get the biggest glass of water for Marc. He tried to refuse, his head moving away, but you wouldn't budge your hand on his chin. Even in his drunken state, he understood you were serious. After he drank enough, you helped him to the bed, much more comfortable than the couch.

You lay with him and brushed his hair, trying to comfort him as he stared blankly at the wall. Eventually, he finally shut his eyes and you followed right after.

The next morning, it was Marc who woke up first. His raging headache wouldn't let him get any more sleep. He raised his head slowly and with squinting eyes he surveyed the room. Then he saw you, right under him, sleeping in your suit.

Shit

He felt even more horrible, as if the pulsing headache moved to his chest. He must've kept you occupied the second you came back. You didn't deserve that. Suddenly tears started to form in his eyes just as they did the night before. He felt useless.

At the first sniffle you hear, you instantly wake up. Marc is sitting slouched on the side of the bed with his hands on his face.

"Marc, habibi.." you get up to put your hand on his back.

"Are you okay? What happened? Do you need asprin? Let me get you some pain reliever-"

"No" his voice is rough and scratchy from crying.

You stop and look at him blankly.

"No?"

"I'm sorry, I don't want to burden you like this. I've done enough. I'm sorry."

"Oh, Marc"

You wrap your arms around him and he leans into you.

"You're not a burden to me Habibi. Don't ever think that. What you did yesterday, it wasn't right. You were doing so good without the alcohol."

You brushed his hair out of his face and gazed into his sad eyes. "I'm here for you. Anytime you feel bad about something, just tell me. Wait for me and I'll be with you and we can figure it out together okay?"

He sniffles and nods his head slightly. "Good, now I'm going to get you some painkillers. We're throwing away all the alcohol in this household." (household.. or mansionhold?)

No drinks are allowed to go through your doors for the next year, and you make Marc take consistent therapy sessions again to help with his troubles. It doesn't sound like a punishment, at least to you. It's just a necessary measure to monitor your love's health. Marc though, thinks it's completely unnecessary. But can he go against your word? No, the answer is no.

Compared to "Ms. Grant" and "Ms. Spector", "Ms. Lockely" is the harshest. And for good reason too.

Jake is the most stubborn of the three. You love him very much, but sometimes, he's really a jackass. Pardon the language. He can be a sweetheart when he wants to be, or an exhaustion when you need to put him in his place.

This whole week has been a mess, with delayed meetings that messed up your entire schedule, and employees getting sick with the flu season so you're understaffed. You finally come home early on Friday, and you're hoping for some massage(or head), from Steven probably. Except when you do get through the front door, you're met with a mess on the floors. Mud footprints on the floor. Shoes that are thrown instead of on the rack.

What the hell?

You feel the irritation from the morning rise up again. You walk further in and collapse your sore body onto the couch. Cracking your neck, you move your head in a few circles. Then you open your eyes and catch something. Dark little circles on the armrest. With a closer look, you realize they're cigarette marks.

Throwing the shoes around?

Smoking inside?

BURNING YOUR COUCH?

Someone might get butchered tonight.

"Hola bebita!" Jake strolls into the living room and leans over to kiss you. That's when you get a whiff of that distinct cigar smell. You lean back to miss his lips.

"Jake?"

"Yes, amor?" He asks confused.

"Did you smoke under my roof?"

...

Silence ensues.

"Ah but amor the smell is not here anymore-"

"Forget the smell, Lockely. You burned my couch." Your voice may have been eerily even, but your eyes showed how much rage you had.

"It's oka-"

"Lockely, you RUINED my house with mud and cigarette marks! YOU THINK I WANTED TO COME HOME TO ORGANIZE THE TRASHED FLOOR-"

"But eh.. the cleaning is a woman's job anyway, no?" he tried to jest in the middle of your rant.

Oh no.

Oh no no no.

Misogyny is absolutely not tolerated under Ms. Lockely's roof.

So guess who had to sleep on the couch that night.

Guess whose limo got towed off your property that night?

Guess whose bank account got frozen so they couldn't pay the fee to get their limo back?

Guess who had to help cook and clean in the female-led kitchen the next time you organized a gala?

That's right.

Jake Lockely did.

And he never dared utter such words again. And you were proud your punishment set him straight. Did you regret it? No. Would you do it again if you had to? Definitely.

And that's how the Moonboy's girlfriend mothered them all.

[gryfflepuffinthetardis]

Drunk in Love — Campbell Bain x Reader

Sweet Jane Masterlist

Summary: Campbell calls Y/N drunk so she can pick him up from his station’s night out at the bar.

Warnings: Drunk Campbell; Drunk Campbell is clingy, Reader is mentioned to be much shorter than Campbell who is roughly six feet tall (I am personally five foot two); Reader is implied to not be Scottish but it can be interpreted by being from a different part of Scotland (I am personally American)

Note: I'm not crazy about the Beyonce song, it doesn't really fit, but if you had any other suggestions of songs about intoxication and love...

(Post-Asylum; May be connected to “Sweet Jane” or read alone)

"They were utterly intoxicated by each other."

"Even drunk, I am caught off guard by the way I remain intoxicated by you."

"Be drunk with love, for love is all that exists."

1994 *Six months after the events of “Takin’ Over the Asylum”

It was two in the morning when the phone rang about six months after Campbell got the Scotland Radio job. 

“Ahhhg.” She groaned, blindly and lazily feeling around for her phone, knocking some things over, and answered her phone, “Hello.”

“Heeeeeey! Baby!” Came Campbell’s voice, clearly drunk. “Oh, I love you so much. Also, I’m super drunk with Eddie and them from work. Did I tell you I helped Eddie get a job at the station!?”

“Yes, Cam. I did. I was there when you did it." Y/n said.

“Twice a week.” He laughed, “But I’m just so sloshed! I can’t drive and neither can Eddie. Francine’s picking him up. Can you pick me up!? Pleeeeeeeeaaaaaase…” He kept that high pitched tone up until she said yes which she was going to anyways.

“Okay, yes. I will, just stop whining in that tone.” She said, “Let me get ready to leave first.”

“Love you!” Campbell sang and then he started singing Goin’ Out of My Head before Y/N hung up.

She groaned and rolled out of the bed.

--

When she arrived at the station, everyone else was gone except Campbell who was singing, drunkenly, I Want Your Cray-Cray at a high-pitched singing voice dressed in one of his hoodies just as his girlfriend was.

“I want your cray-cray!”

"Hey, radio star." Y/N said, walking up to her intoxicated boyfriend.

"Baby! My love! My world! My universe!" He laughed, getting up and throwing his arms around her neck, with him being so much taller than her, he nearly knocked her over but she managed to get a firm footing before that happened.

"Why are you sitting out here? It's way too cold."

"It's too hot in there." He said and tried to take another swig of alcohol.

"No. No, Campbell." She said, wrestling the bottle from his boyfriend who was whining now like a baby. "Come on, let's get you home."

"You first. I'm loving the view." He flirted, looking her up and down shamelessly, as he brought his hands to her waist, running his fingertips gently on her skin, below the hoodie. "You know how much I love seeing you in my clothes, especially my hoodies."

"Campbell, you're drunk." She sighed.

"And I did exactly what you told me to. I called you."

"Yes, I did. And you did so well." She cooed, her hand cupping his cheek and he nuzzled into it, proud of himself. "now come on. Let's go home." 

She pulled him towards her car and helped him into the passenger's seat before moving to the driver's seat. 

Campbell dozed off on Y/N's shoulder during the ride before she woke him up.

"No..." He whined so she turned the car inside light on and he groaned, "Ahhhhhg."

"Come on, party animal. Let's get you ready for bed." She said.

Campbell tried to be on his best behavior while drunk but he felt anyone else would've just dropped him on the couch... but not Y/N, not his Y/N. 

She sat him on the edge of the tub in the bathroom. 

"How many drinks did you have?" She asked 

"I don't know." He mumbled without opening his mouth.

She brought a breathalyzer to him and held the nozzle to his mouth, "Open." He opened his mouth. "Breathe." He breathed. The breathalyzer beeped and read... ".16... so you had like seven drinks?"

"Sounds 'bout right." He slurred, nodding.

"Campbell, that's too high." She scolded and he pouted like a little puppy. She placed her hand on his forehead, he leaned his head back, looking at her with an alcohol-glazed lovey look, and then she felt his cheek and once again he nuzzled into her hand. "You don't seem cold or clammy, your skin doesn't seem to be any paler than usual. You're breathing is quick. So, you don't have alcohol poisoning..." She took him by the hands and pulled him to his feet, "let's brush your teeth, your breath stinks."

"I think a kiss from you is enough. Because you're so sweet." He flirted, leaning in for a kiss.

She leaned away from the kiss, making him pout and give her his puppy-dog eyes. "And you're so cheesy." She brushed his teeth for him and then told him to stay still in the middle of the bathroom while she got him some pajamas, slightly worried he might topple over and hit his head on the sink or bathtub. She got him a Radio Scotland t-shirt as he usually slept in a tee and his boxers. She brought the t-shirt as he started to shed his hoodie and unbuckle his belt.

She blushed, "Uh, Camps, here." She muttered, handing him the t-shirt, avoiding looking at him but he didn't take it and she looked at him as he had planned and he pulled his shirt over his head and smirked, raising his eyebrows in a teasing manner.

"Campbell!" She said, sternly.

"Alright. I was just jokin'. I'll be out in a minute." He said with a drunken giggle in his Scottish accent and she left.

A minute later, he called, "Help."

She opened the bathroom door to find him just barely keeping himself from tripping due to his jeans at the floor now, pooled at his feet and him still being very drunk, and trying to put his head through a sleeve. "I'm stuck." She could hear the pout in his voice.

Y/N smiled, gently and she walked over to him, "stay still." She advised him.

"Never." He mumbled with a hint of a childish whine.

She eased him to stillness before fixing the t-shirt so his head went through the head hole and helped him navigate his arms through the sleeves.

"Aye, my hero." He smirked and she leaned up, gently kissing him and he never refused a kiss from her.

She was a goddess from Scottish or Celtic mythology in his eyes. She was the Baobhan Sith, the female vampire who seduced men with her beauty and he would gladly give her his blood if she asked. She was Mórrigan, the Irish-Celtic warrior-queen goddess. She was Cliodna, the Scottish-Celtic goddess of beauty, love, and passion. He worshipped her with his every being.

"Okay, superstar, time for bed." She giggled.

"Will you stay?" He asked, forgetting whose house this was.

"Well, this is my house. So..."

"I like to wake up, looking at you." He mused before flopping face-first on the bed.

Y/n rolled her eyes and pushed him on his side of the bed.

Y/N turned off the lights and climbed into bed. A few minutes went by before Campbell said, loudly, right in her ear, "WAIT!?" He startled her with the volume of his voice, making her jump and pull away from him, and he lowered it, "Sorry." She reached next to her and turned on the sidetable lamp. "What were you doing when I called you?"

"Sleeping..." She said, hesitantly.

His eyes turned back into puppy-dog eyes of sadness.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, love." He apologized, he cupped the back of Y/N's head. "I must've been pretty annoying all night."

"No, you weren't." She reassured him, puncturing each sentence with a kiss. A sure-fire way to keep his drunk self entertained--also a sure-fire way to keep his sober self enterained. "I'd get up in the middle of the night to come and get you as much as you need. I love you."

He smiled and kissed her before bringing her in so she could rest her head on his arm and he stretched the turn off the light and the two fell asleep to a morning of him whining about his hangover.

[ofstoriesandstardust]

safe inside

or: “Uncle Slider” steps up to the plate when his pilot can’t

like father, like daughter masterlist

warnings: this takes place during the brutal piece (aka Rebel’s angsty era), references to underage drinking, this got away from me, swearing, angst, arguing, you know what i’m just gonna admit that i had to do a lot of research on breathalyzer tests and i’m still not sure i understand how they work, i am so terrified i didn’t write slider correctly

word count: 1.8k

“i won’t sleep till you’re safe inside/if you’re home i just hope that you’re sober/is it time to let go now you’re older”

“Kazansky? It’s like midnight, is everything okay?” 

“Slider, I need a favor. Something’s wrong with my goddaughter.”

He sits up straighter on the bed. “What do you mean?” 

“She- shit.” The concern and panic is clear in the single word as his pilot fumbles with whatever it was he was holding on the other end of the line. 

“Ice?”

“She didn’t come home tonight.” 

He shifts, rolling back over on to his back. “That’s not exactly breaking news Tom. Remember last month when she didn’t come back for a week?” 

“Yeah, well that’s what I told Sarah the first time. But she’s called twice since then and said she’s got a bad feeling.” 

Slider sits up at that, feeling his blood run cold. “Whaddya mean? Like she thinks something happened to her?” 

“I’m not sure. I’m up in Seal Beach, but I’m gonna drive back right now. I’ll drive back in the morning or re-schedule my meeting, I don’t care, I just- I know this is your leave but do you think you could go look for her? Just drive around a bit? See if you see anything?” 

His pants are already on before Ice has even finished talking. 

-

A car door slamming shut causes you to lift your head from where you’re dozing  on the driver’s seat, the figure of Slider coming into view. You pull the car door open, greeting him. “Kid.” He breathes out, relief spreading across his features. 

“Slider,” You say as he pulls you into a hug. “How’d you find me?”

“Ice called. Said Sarah couldn’t get a hold of you and that you didn’t come home tonight.” He says, pulling away from you as he does a once-over, checking for any bumps, bruises, or bleeds. “Do you have any idea how worried everyone was about you? What the hell were you thinking?” 

You shake your head, looking at the smoking car. “Phone died. I- I had no idea where I was and I just- I didn’t know what to do.” 

“Have you been drinking?” 

You flinch back, eyes going wide. “No! I would never get behind the wheel if I had been drinking.” 

“Uh-huh.” He says, walking toward the hood of the car, popping it open. 

“I know I’ve been screwing up a lot lately, but I’m not that much of a screw up.” You protest indignantly as Slider’s eyes roam over the machinery. 

“Whatever, kid. I’m not fighting with you.” He says, putting a hand up, effectively cutting you off. “I’m gonna call Triple A, I think the sensible SUV is toast. Go get in the car, we can talk about this in the morning.” You turn, heading for his car when you hear him mutter, “When you’re sober.”

“I haven’t been drinking!” You protest. 

“Go.” He says with a pointed look, leaving you no room to argue in his tone. You groan, frustrated tears stinging your eyes as you stomp toward this truck, not that much unlike a child. 

You’d just wanted to go for a drive. You just wanted to go for a drive and lose yourself and not think. 

And then the sensible SUV (a name it had earned when your Dad had bought it for you three years ago, back when Carole was still alive, back when Bradley had been around to laugh at the joke) had broken down more than hour outside of San Diego, on a dimly lit road. You’d had no idea where you were and no signal and a low phone battery. 

And now, even as Slider had come to your rescue, you were being accused of getting behind the wheel while intoxicated. 

Through the rearview mirror, you can see Slider on the phone with someone, presumably Triple A. You huff, crossing your arms as you lean your head against the car window, frustrated and angry and tired. 

The front door opens, Slider climbing in the front. “Triple A is gonna be here in half an hour. Ice wants to talk to you.” He says, handing the phone over to you. 

“Kiddo?” 

“Hey Ice.” You mutter tiredly. 

“Kid, you had us worried sick. What the hell are you doing an hour outside of San Diego at three in the morning? What were you thinking?” 

“Ice-” 

“And Slider tells me you’ve been drinking. Do you have any idea what could’ve happened? You’re lucky nothing happened.”

“Jesus fucking Christ, I did not get behind the wheel and drive drunk. I know better.” 

Ice’s sigh from the other end is enough for you to know that he doubts you and your words. 

“Yeah, sigh all you fucking want Ice. I know, I’m a huge disappointment and failure.” You say, ending the call as Slider watches you. The phone clatters in the cup holder as you close your eyes again. 

It’s quiet in the truck, silence heavy as you push back the tears threatening to spill over. You let Slider deal with the Triple A people, barely holding it together as he begins to drive back to San Diego. 

It’s quiet the whole time, Slider even keeping the radio off. 

It’s silent as he pulls into Sarah and Ice’s driveway. He turns the key, cutting the engine as you pull your seatbelt off. 

“We’re- I’m really worried about you, kid.” He says quietly. 

“Whatever Slider.” You say bitterly, anger and frustration still boiling underneath the surface. 

“Hey.” He says, catching your wrist before you can slip out of the car. “A thank you would be nice.” 

“Thank you for accusing me of driving while under the influence. Can’t wait to talk my Dad off that one when he gets back.” 

He narrows his eyes, letting your wrist go. “What would you have me think, kid? I know what’s been going on.” 

“Fucking breathalyze me, for all I give a shit. I wasn’t drinking tonight, I swear on Nick and Carole Bradshaw’s graves.” 

He eyes you for a minute, before putting his key back into the ignition. “Fine. We’ll do just that. Go inside and stay there.”

You scoff, shaking your head as you climb out of the car. You push the front door open, kicking your shoes off as you walk into the living room. Sarah stands up, catching sight of you. 

“Darling, I’m so glad you’re alright.” She says, dusting off her bath robe. “Here, sit down.” She says, guiding you to the couch. “Is everything alright? Where were you? We were so worried. Where’s Ron?” 

“Going to get a breathalyzer test because he doesn’t believe me when I said that I wasn’t drinking.” 

She frowns, setting her hands on her hips. “Well, were you?” 

“No!” You almost shout back. “No and I’m so tired of everyone acting like I’m so stupid that I would’ve gotten behind the wheel drunk.” 

“Hey, hey.” She soothes, sitting back down on the couch next to you. “I believe you, okay? We were just worried, and well, lately-” She cuts herself off as the front door opens. “Tom, honey?” 

You raise your eyes to meet those of your godfather’s. He stares at you for a minute, chest heaving. 

“You’re supposed to be at Seal Beach.” 

“Where the hell were you? Where’s Slider?” 

You shift away, eyes locking on to the photo of you and Bradley at his high school graduation. His smile is wide, tassel dangerously lopsided, his arm resting across your shoulders. If you close your eyes, you can still feel the warm June sun against your skin, hear Bradley’s loud laughter. 

You wish they’d take that stupid picture down. 

How could they all still try to remember Bradley when he’s done nothing but forget you?

“Kid, I am trying so hard to understand what’s going on with you.” Ice says, causing your eyes to open as he pulls the ottoman over to sit in front of you. “Please, talk to me. I am here for you.” 

A bitter laugh escapes your mouth at his words. 

Here for you? All anybody seemed to be in your life lately was absent. 

“Go to hell.” You say with a roll of your eyes. Ice narrows his eyes. 

“Don’t talk to me like that.” 

“Why? You suddenly gonna pretend like you give a shit now?” 

Whatever Ice wants to say to you next gets cut off as the front door opens again, signaling Slider’s return to the home. He tosses the box to you, fixing you with a stare. “Moment of truth kiddo.” 

You sigh, unboxing the breathalyzer as Ice’s eyes fly between you and his best friend. 

“What-?” 

“She swore on Nick and Carole’s graves she wasn’t drinking tonight. I want to put that to the test.”

Slider stops in front you, blocking you from leaving as if you even wanted to. 

You roll your eyes as you breath into the device before it beeps, signaling to stop. The device flashes at you for a few moments before blinking green, showing a BAC of 0.00. 

You turn the device to show the two men before shoving it into Slider’s hand, pushing past him and Ice. 

“I’m going to bed.”

You’re not even halfway up the second step when Slider opens his mouth. 

“Well, just because it shows up clear now doesn’t mean you haven’t been drinking lately. Don’t sit here and pretend like we don’t all know exactly what’s been going on behind our backs.” 

You freeze on the stairs, the anger flickering in you again as you momentarily assess what will hurt Slider the most. 

“I’m going home.” 

Your voice is quiet, deadly. 

“No, sweetheart, that’s not what Ron means-” 

You turn around to face the three. “No, no clearly, I- I should just leave. Leave and never come back, just like Bradley did? I know that’s what you all want, to be free of the burdens of kids you never wanted.” 

The room is deadly silent, even as Sarah’s eyes fly between Ice and Slider, begging for one of them to speak. 

Finally, Slider does, his voice steely. 

“That’s not what happened. You have no idea what happened with Bradley.” 

“Then tell me.” You challenge. Slider glances at Ice, who sighs, shoulders deflating from his defensive stance. 

One might think that it was him giving in, but you recognized it for what it was. 

He was giving up. On you. 

“I’m going home.” 

“It’s almost 3 in the morning, and you have no car and no shoes on. How in the hell are you going to get back?” Slider asks, following you into the hallway. 

“I’ll walk.” You snap, front door already halfway open. 

“Like hell you are-”

The door slamming behind you is still ringing in your ears when you awake the next morning. 

[to-each-based-on-need]

Reason I miss drinking 1/1,0000:

I miss being able to quantify how unstable I am at any given minute. I wish so much that I had been carrying around a breathalyzer every day that I ever went out. I’ve read hospital reports telling me my BAC was so high I should have been in a coma. In those moments, I was talking nurses into letting me out of the hospital. At I’m sure around that same BAC, I was deciding to move back to Boston to be with my ex. I was seducing people I have no memory of sleeping with. I was deciding to stop living. I was mean to the people I love. I was putting myself and others at incredible risks.

The wild thing is, in all thise moments, I know I really believed in what I was doing. I believed in the validity of my feelings. I didn’t think I was drunk or out of my mind. I didn’t think I needed help making decisions, and certainly didn’t trust the people around me to make them for me. I wish to god I’d had some way to tell what my BAC was because I think I could have trusted those numbers to tell me the truth about my mental capacity. Now, in sober life, I don’t get to know. There are days where leaving my house feels like the least reasonable decision. There are times when talking to my friends sounds wonderful but unhealthy, and times where it sounds miserable and medicinal. I don’t trust my therapist or my psychiatrist, and it’s not really their fault; it’s the nature of a capitalistic and legalistic mental health care system. I know that my brain will be different when it’s properly medicated again, but I don’t know when that’ll happen, and I don’t know how to trust my decisions between now and then.

Side note: if you’re considering taking time off school because your mental health is in decline, do it right now. Do it. I waited too long and my GPA tanked. When I went back, I was only there a year before I graduated, and while I did a lot better, it wasn’t enough to bring my GPA up to something good. Now I’m almost thirty and I can’t get into grad schools because I couldn’t do school as a super depressed 19 year old.

Okay, diary entry over. In other news, I guess it’s good I’m still alive. My Guinea pig fell asleep in my arms today. She’s happy I’m here. That can be enough.

[batstorm93672]

Robin woke up, it was gloomy and dark everywhere. The smell of gas in the air was apparent, looking to see Red Hood with only his mask on his face. Robin looked through his tools, he had a breathalyzer only one, what of Hood?

Robin pat him down and felt nothing of use.

Robin slapped Red Hood in the face "HEY!"

"Huh?! What the hell Demon?"

The hissing of gas reached their ears and Red Hood sat up with fear in his eyes, he always had a rough time with it. As the green gas slowly drifted to their direction, Robin leaped at Red Hood and he struggled against him.

"Robin! What the hell are you affected-"

"Sorry Hood"

Robin took out the breathalyzer and stuck it on Red Hood's face, the click showing that it's on and Robin moved back as Red Hood looked at him in horror. "Why did you do that?! You have another one right?" Robin chuckled "Sorry Akhi"

Then Robin felt the toxin in his lungs. "Had to... protect you"

.

.

.

Nightwing dropped down, he already tied up Scarecrow and Orphan was dealing with him.

He kept his breathalyzer on and walked in, hearing who he arrived for.

Jason and Damian

Opening the door, Jason was hurt and had some bruises and cuts, he had a breathalyzer and he was cradling Damian.

Jason kept mumbling to Damian as Damian had tears rolling down his face as he looked devoid of all emotions. Nightwing came closer and Jason looked over "Dick... h-he gave me his and... he let himself get intoxicated instead" "Okay, are you alright? Did he hurt you too much?" "No, no I managed to stop him long enough" "Come on then, let's go home"

.

"Had to... protect you" "Robin..?" Jason stood up.

Robin went still for a few seconds then slipped his dagger out and grabbed Jason by the arm. Almost plunging it through his hand, Jason twisted Robin's hand so he dropped it. Robin kicked Jason from below his chin and grabbed his dagger again this time he slashed Jason in the leg. Jason kicked Robin in the stomach and sent him tumbling back.

Robin flipped back to catch himself and he raised his fists. As Robin punched Jason in the gut, Jason grabbed ahold of him from the arm and flipped him over his shoulder. Robin's back hit the floor and Jason caught him by the tunic to make sure he didn't hit his head. Then Robin cried... Jason was distraught seeing him, Robin went slack and Jason picked him up. Sitting down as he held Robin, taking off his mask so he could wipe his tears. Damian kept crying without a sound coming from him, Jason mumbled over and over affirmations of safety.

~

Don't stop moving, keep fighting, keep doing what is needed. Holding a tighter grip on the dagger he took the assassin by surprise to aim for his dominant hand. The assailant quickly twisted his hand and Damian kicked him below the chin grabbing the dagger that fell on the floor and using it to slash his leg. The blood blooming as the assassin kicked him away. Damian flipped and raised his fists, quickly punching the assassin in the gut. The assassin grabbed Damian and threw him over his shoulder, hitting the ground roughly the assassin grabbed the dagger that Damian wielded and stabbed him. Damian's vision was blurring and Damian had tears running down his face.

He failed, the assassin had won. He would be revived by the Pit and told to do better... he failed what they expected of him.

The Lazarus Pit will bring him back and with every revival the voices would grow louder.

~

Damian sat up, if he showed any weakness and sign of letting that death get to him then his punishment will be worse.

"Damian"

"I've failed you grandfather, forgive me. I am ready for my punishment" It was always like that, if he said anything else then Ra Al Ghul would take it as disrespect. If he doesn't play the role then the punishment may be close to death once more.

"Damian, it's Jason"

"I am ready for my punishment"

"Damian..."

"..."

"Habibi, it's Akhi. Can you look at me?"

Damian did as told, not the frown or disappointed face of grandfather. No this is... worry and comfort. Black hair with a few white stripes. The Pit caused that, he's seen it before.

"Todd"

"Yeah, you had fear toxin in you. Nightwing found us and took us back. How are you?"

"Adequate"

"Good to hear now-" Jason stood up looking mad "-what the hell were you thinking doing that?!"

"Hm?"

"The whole giving me your only breathalyzer to protect me?!"

"Your fears are haunting, no one should be forced to experience it again" Jason relaxed more and sat back down "Well I heard you talking as if you spoke to Ra just now, how bad?" "I don't want to speak of it" "Okay... yeah I get that. I'll see you later?" Damian nodded.

Jason ruffled Damian's hair and left, closing the door hearing out for what he assumed would happen.

Then it came, Damian crying. Jason knew if he entered the room now, then Damian would clam up and be embarrassed.

"Too loud, too many of you. Stop shouting at me. It was necessary to protect him... so stop... please stop"

[kitkatwinchester]

GOT 'EM!

OKAY THIS IS A SHORT ONE BUT!

PARRISH YOU AMAZING HUMAN BEING YOU!!

This dude is shooting up soooo high on my favorite characters list right now omg.

Literally INSTANT defense of Stiles and his dad let's GO!

"But they do help when you need a favor. Like, how a month ago, Caanan PD helped you get home after blowing a 0.1 on a breathalyzer."

Ooooooh.

Brunski would you like some ice for that burn? 'Cause D*MN PARRISH!!

To quote Stiles: "You. You, I like you. I'm gonna keep you."

And then OMG everyone's reactions.

Stiles's little "no..." and that little face where he's trying so hard not to laugh.

Brunski's nod and admission as he hands over the keys.

Stiles's gleeful little smile as he grabs the keys.

Parrish's "that right, try me b*tch" expression.

Lydia with the wave and the smirk and the MIDDLE FINGER (don't think I missed that!).

OMG that was just PURE gold.

Which is GREAT, because things are only gonna go downhill from here, because F*CK.

PLEASE tell me that Scott secretly warned Noah and/or Rafael about what he's about to do.

PLEASE tell me he did.

Because making deals with villains NEVER ends well.

And obviously, we're trying to save Liam's life, and I am ALL for that, but if this goes terribly, and something happens to Noah, and Scott didn't try to warn anyone--not even Stiles--that is an instant wedge between Scott and Stiles and NOPE. NOT A FAN!

So PLEASE tell me Scott is smarter than this. PLEASE tell me he has a back-up plan. PLEASE tell me Noah or Rafael knows.

Please please PLEASE don't let this be a disaster.

PLEASE.

Anyways love Parrish, love the Stydia and Parrish trio, please give me more in future episodes, because they're amazing.

(LITERALLY I LOVE HIM SO MUCH OMG THIS WAS SERIOUSLY SO ADORABLE AND PERFECT! <3 <3)

Update: F*CK THAT DID GO BADLY BUT NOT IN THE WAY I WAS EXPECTING! CAN'T WE JUST HAVE ONE BAD GUY AT A TIME?! PLEASE?! Scott is literally ALL on his own! And as awesome as he is by himself, a VERY big chunk of his strength comes from his pack (and their other parental resources) and their loyalty to him. But they are NOWHERE near him. Stiles and Lydia (and Parrish) are at Eichen House. Malia and Derek are in a completely different part of the woods. Liam is in a well. And Stilinski and Rafael are down and hurt. And Garrett is DEAD, and I'm guessing Violet isn't much better off (not that they're in his pack, but they're muscle that we now definitely do not have). So THIS IS TERRIFYING. F******CK. SOMEBODY EX MACHINA! PLEASE!

[pugpugpusheen]

Okay so people i talk to on discord know that something has happened over the weekend to me that has caused me to to take my nephew and nieces to my dad's during the night to spend the night.

What happened is that my sister's husband had been drinking and was acting very irratic and at one point started yelling and ranting in front of nephew, little niece, and his kids. I told my sister i wanted to take the kids out to get away from him so she gave me some money and we went to mcdonald's and then walmart.

I had been trying to call my dad to ask if i could spend the night. While in my car he called me back. My car has phone speaker so the kids could hear me asking if i could spend the night and when he said yes all the kids said they wanted to spend the night as well.

As we were at home packing our things sister's husband was ranting that my sister told us lies to turn us against him. His oldest was on the phone with their mom telling her that she needed to come pick them up.

Then we left.

When i got to my dad's he asked me how i was. I told him an auto response of good, but he stopped me from walking away and squeezed my arm and told me i could relax now. At that point i took a deep breath and tried to.

I took a shower when all the kids were settled with a movie. My sister told me this morning to not bring the kids home soon as sister's husband kicked a bucket into her 20 gallon aquarium and caused a giant hole which then caused all the water to escape. My sister is cleaning that up. He also caused a dent in her car. The cops had to be called last night. They did a breathalyzer and that's how she found out he had been drinking.

She told me he said he was leaving and coming back for his things at a later time. I don't believe this as he has said this multiple times.

The kids are playing roblox and we're all trying to relax here. I told my dad that sister said not ti take them home soon so he said he'll think of something to do with them, like take them to the park. Hopefully when i go home things will be okay.

[throwaway-1234s-blog]

Birthdays Suck (pt. 1)

There's a picture out there of me from my fifth birthday. My hair is tied up in pigtails with gold string braided into them. My younger brother is next to me with a separate cake, celebrating his third birthday. It's the earliest birthday memory I have. It's also one of the few birthdays I remember without any bad memories attached. This brings me to my next point; birthdays suck. Well, my birthdays suck.

To be more specific, it seems to me as if my milestone birthdays are cursed. What exactly are the milestone birthdays? As a Mexican-American, I identify the milestone birthdays as 1, 3, 13, 15, 16, 18, 21, 25, 30, 40, 50, etc. Now, I don't remember my first birthday, if you do then you must have an amazing memory. I vaguely remember my third birthday, and I mostly remember it due to the photographic evidence. Thirteen through twenty-five, however, are a whole different story.

Thirteen. No longer a kid, officially a teenager, but not quite. I remember this birthday most of all. The whole family had gone on an outing for some party at my tias. Who knows whose birthday it was or what we were celebrating. I know for a fact what we weren't celebrating, my thirteenth birthday. Instead, my dad was hammered. He'd had way too much to drink. He was stumbling as he tried to grab the car keys out of his jean jacket. We all knew he wasn't okay to drive. It was a bad idea. The problem? My mother couldn't drive. She had not driven since before my eleven-year-old brother was born. A whole decade since she had been behind the wheel. My older sister, at sixteen, didn't know how to drive either. Despite sixteen being the average age to start learning how to drive, my parents wouldn't allow it for my sister until she was eighteen. This is what led to us boarding the truck of an intoxicated man. He swore he was fine and would be able to get us home. My father and mother took the front seats while me and my four siblings squished up against each other in the backseat. It wasn't even ten minutes before we were pulled over by a cop nearby. I can still recall how the red lights shone all over my face. How terrified I was in that moment. I don't even remember how we got home that night. I remember seeing my dad breathe into the breathalyzer. It was shortly after he blew into the machine that he was handcuffed. He ended up spending about three months in jail. He was also undocumented at the time, so you can imagine just how scared my entire family was. We had known the term "ICE," since before we could form full sentences. My father got into quite a bit of legal trouble due to this incident. As he should have. What kind of grown man endangers his family like that? This also led to him and my mother obtaining work visas, so at least something kind of good happened. Well, that was how I spent my first day as a teenager. Happy birthday to me.

[sapphireclawe]

So I took the ProServe course in hopes of actually finding a job, but I wound up daydreaming about owning a tavern, IRL.

So for context, some of the course covered "how to prevent drunk driving or other issues with alcohol". Another note is that you cannot charge under a minimum for alcohol, or serve it for free in a bar, even as a prize of some kind.

I figured I'd just think up what policies I'd personally put in place and enforce if this were to happen.

Free drinks/food for the designated driver (non-alcoholic of course)

A "keys for alcohol" policy where if someone drove to the tavern and wanted alcohol, they'd have to put their name, address, and phone number on a sticker (that would require an extra step for removal to prevent just swapping them) that would get put on the keys in question before they get put into a safe under the bar. If they want to drive home, they'd need to pass a breathalyzer test (0.0) in order to be allowed their keys back. If they fail but don't want to stay until sober enough to drive and they don't have a ride...

(Iffy on how this would be afforded but it's an option) a tavern-specific drop off service almost like a taxi. Tipping is optional but it would be covered by the tavern as it's the tavern's service. Otherwise we'd call a taxi.

Servers and bartenders are encouraged to talk to customers to both get a feeling of why they're there in the first place and offer alternatives when slowing down service or cutting them off.

For example, guy comes in with a broken heart and wants to drown his sorrows. Server offers a non-alcoholic option to begin with as well as making sure that he doesn't get overserved to begin with, while also emphasizing, redirecting, and preventing a potential problem. ("Ouch, I know that must hurt a lot, but if you start drowning your sorrows you'll be miserable in the morning and you'll associate bad days and hangovers with your ex. Not to mention your liver. We actually have the chocolate lava cake and ice cream special tonight, trust me, chocolate helps. You still want a drink with that? Alright, maybe instead of a beer or a shot of tequila, maybe a more fun drink? Okay, and because I don't want you to feel terrible in the morning when I cut you off I'll switch it to mocktails. Psst, they're cheaper than the alcoholic drinks.")

Or another example, a group of people are celebrating a promotion so get them to stay longer with less repercussions. ("Hey, I hear there's a party over here! So who got promoted? We actually have a special for events like this! Half off on all appetizers, and the first round of mocktails is free! Yes, I did say mocktails, meaning that if you feel like you've hit your limit before being cut off, or you get cut off, the first mocktail is on us. Do we have a designated driver in the party? Alright, I'll make a note that your drinks are free, that's our driver policy here. Need a minute to look over the menu? There's also a running special on pasta bakes tonight!")

Plus of course the usual "keep track of the drinks going out and communicate with your coworkers" stuff that's kind of necessary.

[unimatrix-420]

I was in a minor car accident last night and it only reaffirmed my faith.

For the past year now almost, I've begun falling asleep at the drop of a hat at random times throughout the day. It's worst after I've eaten something, which made me think it was a blood sugar thing, so I radically changed my diet (it hasn't been easy, either, let me tell you!) but it's still been happening. Of course I have severe obstructive sleep apnea too, but this is a new development and I wasn't sure the apnea was entirely the problem. I'm talking, I can be standing upright having a conversation with someone and in the middle of it fall asleep and almost topple over! It's been miserable, it's been a complete nightmare.

And it's never happened while I've been driving. Until last night.

One minute I was awake doing 60 down the highway, the next minute I was diving into the steep median trying to keep the car under control and praying I didn't die or hurt someone else.

And looking back on the events of last night, there were so many circumstances that made me realize I had God with me that whole time. Otherwise I don't see how it couldn't have been worse.

My car insurance had lapsed, and I got it reinstated before leaving the house yesterday. And my husband also made me put service back on my phone, which it hadn't had for like a week.

On top of that, somehow, it was like the car helped me with maneuverability. I know it sounds crazy, but as I was barreling down the median, the car tossed left and right a little but the wheel never left my hands. And as I slammed on the brakes, they never locked up but instead found traction, which is what slowed me down eventually. The car had to be towed out of the median but I was able to drive it back home with nothing else wrong but a loose vacuum tube.

At the scene, one of the drivers who'd been in front of me turned around and came back to make sure I was okay and called 911. He stayed there with me the whole time, even when the police officer arrived. I don't say this next part lightly because you guys who have followed me for awhile probably know how I feel about the police in general, and I'll still say that had I been black or anything other than passably white, things may not have gone as smoothly as they did. But that officer did not give me a hard time, he didn't insist on a breathalyzer or make it sound like he thought I was under the influence of drugs; he swept his flashlight around the inside of my car but didn't insist on searching it; he accepted a photo of my ID rather than my actual ID (which was still in the car). He didn't write me a ticket, nor did he file any police reports.

I am most grateful of all that no one else was hurt or killed because of me. My conscience could never recover from that. It's things like this that happen in my life that reaffirm my faith in Christ -- looked at individually, all of the steps I took from before I left the house to the moment I ended up in that median appear only to be coincidence. But looking at the larger picture and feeling in my heart that some divine power was with me in that moment, I am convinced my God was not ready to call me home just yet. There is still more for me to do here. 🙏

If you've read this all the way, thank you and God bless you. I hope your days are wonderful and your evenings cozy and filled with love and comfort. 💖

[lokiswifeduh]

Crash Part Two

Pairings: dad!bucky x daughter!reader, mom!natasha x daughter!reader, uncle!steve x reader, wanda x reader (platonic)

Summary: Your parents, Bucky and Natasha meet you at the hospital, but when they hear the doctor's prognosis, all hope seems lost.

word count: 2112

warnings: hospitals, crying, cursing, lack of taking care of oneself, general angst with fluff in the end.

A/N: I got a couple requests for a part two and I'm so happy you guys liked the first one!! I want to keep writing on here so if anyone has requests in general, I'd love to do them!

(Also, Natasha is able to have kids in this.)

"Where is she?!" Bucky stormed into the Emergency Room, instantly seeing Natasha looking a wreck in the waiting room. Nat stood, softly placing a hand on Bucky's chest, "She's still in surgery. They uhm..they said it could take a couple hours to remove the glass from her stomach."

The dam holding Bucky's emotions up broke. He sunk back into a chair, tears streaming down his face as Natasha sobbed into his chest. You were his baby girl. Ever since you were little he wanted nothing but to protect you from the cruel world, and now you were fighting for your life to stay in it.

"She's gonna be okay Buck." Steve nodded, attempting to make the situation a little lighter. But everyone knew it wasn't working out too well.

Natasha lifted her head from her husband's chest, "Wanda is doing okay also. She had to get around eighteen stitches total but they said she can be discharged tomorrow." Bucky nodded, not quite listening as he stared at the swinging doors, just waiting for the doctor to walk out and tell them you would be okay. He would give anything to make sure you were okay and alive.

Hours passed, four to be exact and the three were still sitting there, waiting. Olek and Iryna had come by a little after Bucky and Steve showed up. Natasha was scared they would be mad but thankfully they were just grateful no one had died. After checking up on Wanda, the three still sat in the waiting room, in silence waiting for news to come.

"Excuse me." An officer slowly walked up to the three, holding out his hand to shake. Steve took the opportunity, cutting the very obvious tension. "Are you Y/n Barne's parents?"

Natasha and Bucky stood, bobbing their heads up and down in agreement, "Yes we are." The young officer gave them a sad smile, "I'm officer Torres. We would just like you to know the man that hit your daughter and her friend head-on is now being held in interrogation and we are adamant about pressing charges." Natasha gulped, wiping the tears from her eyes with her sleeve. "And why did he..what was the uhm.." "Why the hell did he crash into them?" Bucky finished, making Natasha nod.

Officer Torres pulled his phone out, showing the three the man's mugshot. "John Walker. He was crawling from the car that hit yours. His breathalyzer test was 0.10." Bucky looked up from the phone, "Why are you telling us this? Doesn't he have certain rights that don't allow information to be shared?" Torres nodded, "Yes, and of course take your time. But if you want to press charges, do it fast, because he's slippery."

"What do you mea-" "Y/n Barne's family?"

The two ran over to the doctor followed by Steve who collectively disregarded Toress.

"Were her parents." Buck held Nat close to him, both of them fighting off tears as they waited for the doctor to speak.

"I'm Doctor Grey, I operated on your daughter." The woman stuffed her cap into her pocket, leading the two to sit down a couple seats away. At this point, they were fearing the worst.

"We were able to stop the bleeding after extracting the almost twelve-inch shard of glass from her abdomen." They listened, however hearing a 'but' coming their way.

"But.." Doctor Gray countered. There it is.

"But what?" Natasha's voice cracked, thinking of the inevitable.

"But she went into shock. We were able to get her heartbeat on a steady rhythm until something went wrong. Sometimes the body just doesn't have enough strength for traumatic events."

Bucky gulped, not wanting to hear if he would be planning his daughter's funeral. "Is she..." He trailed off, however, relieved when Dr. Grey shook her head.

"She's made it through, but is in a coma."

The first part of her sentence made the couple's hearts soar, until the doctor spoke at the end, making them cling to each other in desperation. "She's what?" Natasha mumbled, fisting her husband's henley in her hands.

"We have a good enough look at her brain to know she will wake up, it's just a matter of when." "And how long could it be?" Bucky questioned, placing a kiss on Natasha's forehead.

"That we don't know. She has to do this herself. Her body has to fight." The Doctor laid a hand on Natasha's shoulder, standing with the couple in tow. "Would you like to see her?" The two nodded hastily, about to walk through with Steve behind.

"Oh I'm sorry," Dr. Grey shook her head, "Only two visitors in the ICU at a time." Steve lifted his hand in acceptance, "It's okay. I'll check on Wanda and her parents." "Are you sure, Steve?" Bucky asked, wanting his friend to be by his side. Steve had seen you born. He had even been there for you when Bucky couldn't because of missions. He was basically a third parent, and Natasha definitely liked to tease Bucky about it.

But being the humble person Steve was, he nodded, "Go see her. I'll be here when you get back." Bucky gave Steve one last hug, "I'll keep you updated."

They exchanged one last look before Dr. Grey walked them through the doors and into the ICU wing.

Natasha and Bucky's faces dropped as soon as they saw their little girl laying in that hospital bed. Wires stuck to your chest, an IV in your hand, and an oxygen tube down your throat.

Bucky led the two over to your beside as Nat sat down beside you. "Oh, baby," Your mom spoke, stroking your hair as tears flowed freely down her cheeks. Bucky pulled up a chair, taking your hand in his. You were so cold, looking so fragile. Not even as a baby did you seem so frail. Like if he pulled or yanked a little too hard you would fall apart.

"You said she uh.." Bucky looked up to Doctor Grey as she was going through some paperwork, "She will wake up, right?" Bucky hated sounding so weak, so..fragile. But the one good thing in his life besides Natasha was you. You were the light of his life. The person who gave his life meaning from the horrors of his past. Yet now that light was dimming, and he didn't know how to fix it.

She nodded, "Yes. We will continue to check up on her brain functions but looking at where they are now.." The doctor looked at the hopeful couple, not wanting to destroy their longing in her words. "It's up to her." She placed the paperwork under her arm, walking from the room after letting the two know to ask if they needed anything.

"She's gonna wake up." Nat nodded, looking back at Bucky, "She has to wake up." The redhead fell into her husband, clinging to his shirt as she sobbed.

Natasha's composure wasn't easily broken. She was a Russian spy with perfect combat and mental skills. Crying didn't come easily to her. Especially when the tears were for you. What was once a dream of having children turned into a reality when she saw those two little lines after coming home from a mission.

Bucky and her took off time from Avenging to raise you. They wanted all of their time to go into their little bundle of joy, which meant not saving lives for a while. Yet when you were around seven they started going again. This is when Steve got more in the picture and Yelena even helped you train. Nat was against it at first but in the end, it was a good decision. She knew she would dread the day you'd have to use it but they had too many enemies to leave you defenseless.

They never thought you'd have to fight against a car, however.

"Come on," Bucky moved Nat to the spare cot in the corner of the room, maneuvering her body onto his. The two looked over at you, eyelids falling heavy until sleep consumed them.

"You need to wake up, babydoll." Bucky pleaded for the millionth time. he held your hand, the pulse in your wrist keeping his a little saner. "I need you." He nodded, "Mom needs you. Wanda and Steve do too." Looking over to the candy basket Yelena had sent, "Aunt Lena is worried sick no matter how much she hides it with humor."

Bucky let out a sob, his head collapsing onto your stomach, "I need you back in my arms, arguing with me about curfew and watching to watch the Twilight movies over and over again." He lifted his head, looking at your stoic face, "Please wake up.."

"Come on, Buck. You need to go home and get some sleep." Steve attempted and quickly failed once again. Bucky shook his head, "No. I won't leave her here alone."

It had been two months since the accident. For two full months, you had been asleep. And two months Bucky and Natasha had been in agony.

"I'll stay here with her." Steve placed a hand on his best friend's shoulder. "She won't be alone."

The brunette looked up, "I don't want her waking up alone. I want to be here." Steve sat down in front of him, pleading. "You need sleep, you need to eat, and you need to take care of yourself. Bucky tried to object only for Steve to hold up his hand. "Natasha is at home asleep. She can come back here while you rest."

It took a minute but Bucky let out a breath, standing and walking over to your sleeping figure. "I'll be back doll." He leaned down, kissing the crown of your head and holding himself there. A tear fell onto your hair but he only wiped it away as Steve led him from the room. "Go. Take a shower, get a sandwich." The brunette waved his friend off, stumbling from the hospital and to his bike.

Steve walked back in, sitting by your bed and holding your hand. "You need to wake up, kiddo. For all of us."

"She's waking up!! Get me the Doctor Grey!!" A nurse shouted, scurrying around the room. Your eyes were wide, watching everyone around you in a panic. The heart monitor was beeping off the walls and you couldn't seem to talk. All you wanted at this moment were your parents. Your mom and dad but you couldn't see them.

"What's happening?!"

Steve! You saw your Uncle Steve walk in with a cup of coffee in his hand, asking questions with a worried expression covering his features.

"Alright, Yn, I'm Doctor Grey." You felt the woman lifting your upper torso with the bed, standing above you. "I'm gonna take this tube out, alright?" You did your best to nod, watching as she stripped the tape from under your nose. "Take a deep breath in." You did as she said. "One more." You did again.

"Alright, one more deep breath." And right when you inhaled, she snatched the tube, quickly and steadily removing it from your throat. "Cough it out." She rubbed your back as you choked and hacked loudly.

"Where are my-" You tried to clear your voice but the raspy feeling made it harder to talk. "Here's some water." A nurse lifted a plastic cup to your lips, letting you gulp the cool water down to soothe your throat.

"Steve.." You rasped out, instantly being tackled in a bear hug by your uncle. "Oh, you're okay!" He let out a deep breath, holding the back of your head to his chest. You let out a laugh, "What the hell happened?"

He pulled away, grabbing his phone from the table. "I'll let your parents explain, okay?" You nodded, laying your head back as exhaustion overtook your body.

"Oh, baby!" Natasha ran through the door, at your side in an instant. "Hey mom." You reciprocated her hug, breathing in the warm vanilla scent she always smelled like.

When she pulled away, sobbing, your dad sat down beside her, "Hey, doll." You smiled, pulling you in for a hug, "Hi dad."

His large arms covered you as he pulled you in his embrace. "You're awake doll." You nodded, mumbling into his chest, "I heard you. Talking to me." Bucky looked down at you, tears filling his eyes.

"I'm glad your okay, doll." He held you close to him, "I'm glad you're okay."

"Hey, dad." Bucky hummed as you raised your head to look at him.

"I'm sorry I crashed your car." Bucky let out a laugh, "It's okay doll." "Really?" "Mhm." He nodded, smiling "But I am never letting you drive an expensive car again."

Taglist:

@kingshitonly@griffin-girl-rirl-r @glxwingrxse @froufrousnowmanan@miniaturenachoperfection@ immathinkerg@ stevebarnesworld@miniaturenachoperfection

[proceduralpassion]

I'll Be Seeing You

Pairing: Kevin Atwater x Fire!Reader (I hate writing Y/N so reader has a last name "Dubois" courtesy of @ginghampearlsnsweettea)

Inspiration: Kevin being Kevin (Also the "I'll be seeing you" thing between Peyton and Lucas from One Tree Hill), also the lack of Kev fics is simply blasphemous

Summary: Kev doesn't like you walking home by yourself

WC: ~1.3K Warning(s): unedited because I like my work a lil rough 'round the edges, slight sexual tension?

It felt like the night had been dragging on. You’d been having fun, sure, but you felt drained from all the energy spent dancing, talking, and drinking. It was also the end of the day, or more like, the early hours of a brand new day. The festivities celebrating Stella’s promotion were still going on, but you could feel the exhaustion wearing down in your bones. It took you a few seconds to even gather enough vigor to rise from the bar stool and begin making your goodbye rounds with everyone.

You caught Kevin’s eye as you began walking towards the door and so you made a quick detour to where he was sitting. The two of you had always been friendly with each other, whether it be during the times you interacted at work or whenever you ran into each other here at Molly’s. You saw him when he had first come in with Ruzek and Burgess, but now he was sitting all alone with Burgess gone for the night and Ruzek grabbing another drink at the bar.

“Heading home already?” He asked as he saw your crossbody around your frame.

“It’s one a.m.” you defended.

Kevin chuckled, “Didn’t take you for a girl scout, Dubois.”

He accepted the playful swat you gave him on his shoulder while feigning hurt. 

“You called an Uber?”

“Nah, I only live down the street.” 

Kevin frowned, “Sooo, you’re gonna walk?”

You shrugged, “Yeah, my feet ain’t broke. I always walk when I know I’m gonna be drinking here. No use in driving my car for like two blocks.” 

Kevin shook his head in a playful admonishment, “You a first responder, you s’posed to know better.” 

He downed the rest of his drink and stood up from his seat. You looked at his empty beer bottle and gave him a pointed glare. It, for sure, wasn’t the first drink he had had tonight. He caught the glare and put his hands up in defense, “What?”

“You a first responder, you s’posed to know better,” you threw back at him, “I know you don’t think I’m about to get in your car when you’ve probably had just as much tonight as I’ve had. And don’t even bring up our difference in size before I make Ruz come over here with a Breathalyzer.” 

“Okay, okay, Miss Smarty. And what if I was about to offer to walk you home? Then what, huh?”

You couldn’t help but look away with a smirk at his retort, not realizing that’s where he was going with this. His close proximity to you didn’t help matters as your face warmed up. 

“Ah ha! That’s what I thought.”  He grabbed his jacket and put it on, “Let me go holla at Ruzek and I’ll take you home.”

You weren’t even given the chance to decline the kind offer before he was off saying goodnight to his partner. You gave a final wave and congratulatory air kiss to Stella before heading to wait towards the door. You heard Sylvie yell a “text me when you get home!” and you smiled and saluted in acknowledgement of the request.

A second later, Kevin had joined you and reached over your head to hold the door open for you to exit. He made a show of silently gesturing “after you” with his hands before following you out into the Chicago night air. He draped one of his shoulders around you and your cheeks warmed as you realized this was the first time that the two of you had touched in this manner. A shake of the hand here, a tap on the shoulder there, but never had either of you been in as close of an embrace as this. Maybe his meager drunkenness had caused him to be a little touchier than normal. And maybe your stupor had given you the comfort to lean into his arm. Either way, you both comfortably walked the path to your place with his arm still around you.

“Seriously, though, you shouldn’t be walking home by yourself. Especially while drunk.”

“Well, to be fair, I’m not always drunk. Sometimes, I’m working shifts and obviously I’m not drinking on the job.” 

Even though you were part-owner and didn’t necessarily need the extra cash, sometimes you just enjoyed serving drinks around the establishment and having fun with everyone.

“Still, D.” He wrapped his arm tighter around you as he belabored his point. Your heart skipped at the motion to the point where you shivered a little at his touch. Taking the gesture as if you were cold, he wordlessly walked behind you and leaned both of his arms around you in the attempts of gathering warmth for you. 

You grinned at the gesture and allowed your head to lean into his embrace as you two continued walking. The smell of his cologne doused your senses and you wondered if there was a better sensation than what you were currently experiencing.

“Thank you,” you finally said after several minutes of silence.

“For what?”

“Walking me home,” there was more you wanted to say, but the alcohol hadn’t emboldened you that much. 

“Always.” 

Your steps began to slow as you were a few houses down from your townhome. 

“And for the record, if you ever see me at Molly’s, you come find me so you’re not out here by yourself.” 

“I walk into burning buildings for a living,” and even though he couldn’t see it, you playfully rolled your eyes. Giggles erupted from your mouth as he launched an impromptu tickle attack on you. It took several moments for your laughter to die down as he kept grabbing you and running his fingers lightly over you. He wouldn’t stop through your bouts of sniggers as he continuously asked, “You gon’ listen to me? Can’t hear you, you gon’ listen to me?”

It wasn’t until you finally conceded that he finally stopped, “Okay, okay! I promise! I promise!”

You pointed to your brownstone and he playfully lifted you up the stairs to your door. You leaned your back up against the door as you two stood face to face.

Your small, bashful smile had returned as you looked him in the eye.

“Thanks again for walking me home.” 

You weren’t sure who reached for who first, but you were locked in another embrace as you heard him say “Always” up against your ear. 

This should’ve been the part where the two of you separated but you hadn’t moved your arms back and he hadn’t made the move to do so either. If you were listening closely enough, you might even heard the sigh of contentment that emanated from him. His hand came up to your hair and ran a couple of fingers through your curly locks as he tenderly held your head.

His face moved back some until you were eye to eye, or rather eye to chin. He was looking down at you, something of enchantment glimmering in his eye.

“Damn, I don’t wanna leave.” 

“I don’t want you to, either.”

The words had come out before you even meant them to and it took several moments for it to register that you had said them. Still, you wouldn’t have taken it back. You might’ve even opened the door and let him in.

The vibrating ring of his phone had interrupted anything further from taking place. 

Halstead’s name popped up and you knew that meant that the team had probably caught a case. 

When you sighed, it was if you were taking your first breath since his embrace. As if you were tucked under the seas and finally coming up for air. As if the frizz of the air that encapsulated them alone had suddenly crashed down and now they were back to reality.

“Duty calls,” you had said.

He held his phone and internally searched for which words to deliver out of all the words that were thrashing to spill out. 

You spoke for the both of them, “I’ll be seeing you.”

He nodded, agreeing with the interlude, with the non-finality of your words.

“I’ll be seeing you.”

A/N: This may not be a formal series but I can see myself writing more for these two. My requests are technicalllyyy closed but I can be convinced to write more 👀 if ppl like it (who am I kidding? I'm writing more even if it's just me and bestie @ginghampearlsnsweettea who read)

[howlingday]

Weiss: Jaune, did you ever play house growing up?

Jaune: No, I can't say I did. Why?

Weiss: Would you like to?

Jaune: Uh, sure, I guess. (Thinking) This might be fun.

Weiss: Great! I'll be the loving wife and you'll be the loving husband.

Jaune: Yes, dear.

Weiss: (Giggles, Clears her throat) Welcome home, honey! I hope work wasn't too stressful, because I have a big dinner ready for the two of us.

Jaune: Yes, dear.

Weiss: But before that, I need you to- (Sniffs) What is that?

Jaune: Huh?

Weiss: (Sniffs closer to Jaune, Serious look on her face) Have you been drinking again?

Jaune: Wait, what?

Weiss: Don't you play dumb with me, mister! HAVE! YOU! BEEN! DRINKING?!

Jaune: Uh, n-no, honey, I'm just tired!

Weiss: Oh, of course you are! You're always sooooo tired! Well, I hope you're not too tired to blow into this! (Pulls out object)

Jaune: IS THAT A BREATHALYZER?!

Weiss: You bet it is, and if you blow so much as a 0.01, I'm calling your sponsor!

Jaune: Uh... (Thinking) This got so intense! (Speaking) I'll... I'll take the test.

Weiss: Good. Blow. (Reads the breathalyzer) 0.32?! You're trashed right now! (Crying) How could you do this to me?! You said you would get sober! How can you be a father when you can't even take care of yourself?!

Jaune: Be a father?!

Weiss: I... Well... While you were in prison. It... It might not be yours. I'm sorry. I guess I have my own problems to deal with.

Jaune: You... You cheated on me?

Weiss: It was only one time! I was alone, and he was there for me when you weren't. I didn't know how to get by! Please, don't be mad with me! We can still get through this! I... I still love you.

Jaune: ...I want a divorce.

Weiss: I... You're right. This isn't working. What do we do now?

Jaune: You should stay at your mother's.

Weiss: Okay. I guess that's fair. I'll call you tomorrow. I hope we can sort this out amicably.

Jaune: Me too.

Weiss: (Walks out, Shuts the door)

Jaune: (Exhales heavily)

Weiss: (Walks in) Wow! That was the most fun I've ever had playing house! You would make a wonderful husband, Jaune! Would you like to have lunch with me?

Jaune: Uh, y-yeah, sure. (Thinking) Is this how house works?!

[tinyboxxtink]

"Buzzkill Barba"

God I really try and do one of those little itty bitty fluff nuggets of writing and they just keep on going for a page and a half.

Anyway, @storiesofsvu [and everyone else]. I hope you enjoy my "This Is The Part Where You Ask Me Out, And I Say Yes," square.

—---

You had been out drinking with the squad and were just getting ready to leave when who should show up but the ADA, Buzzkill Barba.

“Getting sloshed again are we, detectives?” He asked in a condescending tone. 

“Coming to kill our fun again, counselor?” You made a very obvious eye roll and gag motion. 

“Oh my god would you two just fuck already?!” Sonny cried out in a drunken laugh, causing the rest of the squad to giggle like school kids. You wanted to curl up and die right there in the booth. But instead, you smacked him across the back of the head. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” You hissed at Sonny with white hot rage in your eyes, your pulse racing. You had told him IN CONFIDENCE how you had an insane crush on Rafael.

“W-W-Why would you say something like that, Carisi?” Rafael stammered, his voice wavering. Was he sweating? He seemed genuinely taken aback by the comment, no matter how hard he was trying to hide it. 

“I don’t know counselor, you tell us why you’re constantly ‘busting’ us when we’re out havin’ fun, lookin’ at Y/N here like she’s a snack pack,” Sonny pressed Rafael with another dunken laugh.

“You are a bunch of fucking children, you know that?” Rafael rolled his eyes before angrily storming off. 

Your eyes darted between where he had stormed off to and the group, who were all now staring at you expectantly. 

“....What?” You asked, genuinely confused. 

“I totally just gave you an in, Y/L/N. What else do I gotta do, go stick my tongue in his mouth for you too?” Sonny gave you a wink, now suspiciously sober. 

“Oh my god,” the realization washed over you as your skin became pale. “You set me up!” 

“Yeah, I knocked ‘em down a peg, now go lick his wounds. And other things,” Sonny gave you a suggestive nudge. 

“Jesus Sonny,” You rolled your eyes and shoved him one last time before running the same route Rafael had taken. 

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

You found him standing outside Forlini’s on his phone and angrily muttering to himself. When he noticed you, he immediately stopped and looked directly at the ground. He looked as if he was debating whether to stay and wait for his Uber or run away and just call another one down the block. Luckily you caught up to him before he chose the latter. 

“Hey, counselor,” You waddled over to him in your heels on the curb. 

The wind in the city was unusually high, your hair and dress were flapping in the wind. You tried your best to keep your dress from flying over your head but in doing so, tripped on your heels into Rafael’s arms. 

“Jesus Y/N how drunk are you?” he asked in a haughty tone as he adjusted to you literally falling on top of him.

“It’s the wind, okay?!” You gestured around you angrily. 

“Sure it is,” he baited you.

“What do you want, a breathalyzer?” you exhaled loudly as you pushed yourself out of his arms.

“The question is what do you want, Miss Y/L/N?” he crossed his arms in suspicion.

“You didn’t answer Sonny’s question,” you said simply.

“Excuse me?” He half laughed in disbelief. “Did you– did you seriously come out here to ask me if I have a crush on you?” 

“Yes,” you answered in a very serious tone, causing him to stop laughing. Well, he certainly didn’t expect that. Although he wasn’t sure why; you weren’t exactly known for your tact. 

“You’re drunk,” He shook his head while looking away in a nervous laugh.

“Actually I’m not,” You crossed your arms. “I’ve got an early class tomorrow, I barely drank a glass of wine,”

“A class?” Rafael’s eyebrows furrowed. “You’re still in school?” 

He had thought you may be a tad young to be on the SVU squad, but not that young. 

“Just…a few classes at NYU,” You twirled your hair nervously, looking everywhere but his eyes.

“What classes? What kind of degree?” He pressed you.

“Why the twenty questions all of a sudden?!” You threw your hands up defensively.

“...You’re right,” he suddenly realized he was acting way too interested in you and your life. He had to play aloof. He had done so well so far, keeping you an arm’s length. 

“.... Law school,” you admitted after a few moments of awkward silence.

“Law school?” He blinked a few times to process what he heard.

“YES, law school, okay?!” You exclaimed. 

“You’re going to Law School?” He repeated the question. “For what, a man?”

“Shut up!” You hit him lightly. “Wait– was that a Legally Blonde reference?” 

“...No,” his face turned red in the moonlight. 

“Oh my god you totally love Legally Blonde!” you squealed.

“I think it’s a comical interpretation of the judicial world, that’s all,” he retorted.

“Mmmmkay,” you rolled your eyes with a huge taunting smile.

“So, it’s not for a man then?” He changed the subject.

“Mmmm….” Now you were the one to stare a hole into the ground. “Not exactly,” 

“Seriously?” Rafael laughed snidely once more. “Miss Y/L/N you cannot just seduce a law student by–” 

Suddenly he stopped his satirical speech when he noticed that you still weren’t looking up at him. It took him about two seconds to realize what you were saying. 

“Miss…Miss Y/L/N,” He cleared his throat, unsure of how to handle this situation. “You– you, you’re not doing this for me, are you?” 

“What?!” Your head now shot up; the tears you had let fall sucked immediately back into their sockets. “No! For fuck’s sake Barba I’m not a psycho!” 

“Well, I don’t know! You stopped talking, you’ve got that look on your face–”

“I’m going because of you, not FOR you!”  you interrupted him before he started thinking you were going Fatal Attraction on him.

“....I don’t follow,” His eyebrows furrowed in confusion. 

“Look, being a detective is great,” you sighed, taking off your heels. The cool cement on your feet felt marvelous to your throbbing soles. 

“That sidewalk is probably filthy–” Rafael tried to interject but you weren’t listening. 

“But, I don’t know I’m just…bored,” You shrugged, now pacing around. 

“Bored?” Rafael’s eyebrows raised skeptically.

“I mean sure we bring the bad guys in but you–” you stopped pacing and faced him. “You bring them to justice. You really get in there, sticking it to them!” You made a fist and struck it forward. 

“Not how I’d put it, but thank you?” He smiled to himself.

“You make it look fun,” you clarified.

“Fun?” He laughed. “You think being a lawyer is fun?” he laughed.

“You’re telling me it isn’t?” you challenged him.

Rafael stopped and thought for a moment. Sure, there was a shit ton of paperwork involved in his job, what career wasn’t? There were sometimes tedious back and forth, a lot of ass kissing. But he had to admit, being in that courtroom, he felt in his element. He’d never admit it, but he felt like a rock star. 

“...It is fun,” He finally conceded with a smile, adding: “If you’re good at it,”

“Oh, I’m good at it,” You assured him.

“Are you now?” He smirked. 

“Yeah, and in about six months I’ll show you,” You took a brazen step forward.

“I look forward to it,” Rafael did his best to keep from looking down at your lips as he kept a cool front. He was knocked from his concentration by his Uber pulling up to the curb. He nodded to the driver to give him a second before turning back to you.

“Well, I guess I’ll see you Monday,” He made an awkward waving motion with his hands before starting to get into the car. This was it, he was leaving. If you didn’t do something right now you’d hate yourself in the morning. And every day after that.

“Hey counselor?” you stopped him using the best confident voice you could.

“Yes?” He stepped back onto the curb.

“This is the part where you ask me out, and I say yes,” the smoothest line you had and probably would ever speak in your life flowed out of your mouth in the most tantalizing smirk you could muster.

“Is it?” He asked in a rather cold tone. “I really don’t think it is,”

“W-What?” your crowning moment smile was slapped off your face with that answer. Had you totally read this whole situation wrong? How could you read it wrong?!

“I think it’s the part where I ask you to get in the car,” his cheeky smile now returned as he opened the backseat of the black town car. You did your best to keep your jaw from hitting the floor. 

“Nice,” you simply smirked, biting your lip. You stepped inside the car and slid over letting Rafael follow you.

“I guess to answer your question; yes, I do have a crush on you Miss Y/L/N,” he answered huskily, now that your two bodies were closely confined in the backseat. 

“Eh, I guess you’re alright,” You giggled before he slowly put a hand under your chin and brushed his lips against yours in a soft kiss. After a few seconds he pulled back slightly to say:

“You realize if any of your professor’s find out you're fraternizing with the ADA, they could take disciplinary action?” 

“Worth it,” you grinned devilishly before pulling his face back into yours, this time with a hungrier kiss. 

That night as you laid in bed next to a naked, sleeping Rafael, you made a mental note to send Sonny the biggest meatball sub on Monday.