#wish i still had a med card but i can’t afford one

[weedstop]

thank god for buy one get one sales 😭 haters said i could never get here

(now maybe i’ll stop being pissy about everyone having weed to smoke but me 😂)

[threenorth]

Healing of past traumas..and starting to assemble the frame. and i also list some possible triggers TW: I am currently in mental crisis as a lot has happened to trigger me hard in the past few days...but that’s life.a lot in this one. , trauma and pain,blood, bikes,balloons...dad wanting to talk about my trip, etc i don't know just a bit of about everything...

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------- In the search of pain, once had. piece by piece..framing up the picture. we start with..

You might not remember, but there was a time you called me Charlie. I thought it was cute, but i didn't call you Sam. at the end of perks, In the dinner where Sam and Patrick are talking with Charlie about college.

I got you anchor neck-less because Sam was wearing an anchor earnings at the dinner. I remember you said you like the small things, you also never really wore neck-less expect your dad’s dog tag and I wanted you to have the somethings small, around your neck.

I also told you that - you calm my seas, when my seas were rough you would anchor me, and that was true... I remember you wore it to your prom, and how i wish i could of danced with you. Until one day, in a movie with a horror movie playing when i am at my happiness my truma can hit me the hardest and soooo.. that trailer played and all my trauma came back at me and all the things I couldn't explain how I felt to you, it was like I was feeling everything and nothing and all i wanted to do is die, i almost wanted to ask you to just kill me now but you would of thought i was joking and let the pain end, and my mental health got worse with closing my eyes and opening them to see you with the flickering images and trauma inter-winded of blood and screaming and I couldn't explain my feelings,  I ignored everything to do with you because it caused me pain and to much suffering.

i just felt dead ... or i was due to die soon enough, i now know that is sensory overload and i couldn't process what was going on, and then the pain and suffering i am due to go through, i couldn't tell you encase it woke up your issues but i guess when it gets really bad i can’t control any part of myself, mind or mouth. ...until one day it didn’t i was free from my shackles i thought just to be reawaken to the childhood trauma in a bar that was 2021. and now in 2023 i don't know,

the slight blood from my blood from my nose surgery that  >>> the blood in my mouth running down my neck from ben throwing that ball at me.

the lump near my...

balloons popping at courneys 30th >> fake punches at highschool

the guy stealing a bike in druango. > the panic attack and remembernace >> my childhood bike crash >>> the grey thoughts about the criminal.

dad being just the prick he is, treating me a like a child and or still keeps being a fucking fuck wit.

a dog wanting to jump on me like ones who ussually attack.

As years have gone pass and starting to heal slowly, I can slowly try afford to see people to help me and oh it’s painful, I found i am suffering, yes and the first piece is of alexithymia.

to explore my feelings better there is a chart. https://neurodivergentinsights.com/blog/the-feelings-wheel

Ive also installed animi https://www.animiapp.com/ or ill most likely get some kind of tool/card game like this? https://www.mixed-emotions.com/shopus/second-edition my psych has an interesting one I haven't been able to find. Get some awareness pins, https://www.etsy.com/nz/listing/977073045/multiple-choices-emotion-badge-pins

Along with all the other enmle ones i am looking at for my adhd and autism and my new pro-nouns oh yeah..he/they/xem. and assemble my punk rock coat, that ive wanted to do for years. Ive found i am brave for my diagnosis,you gave me a sword to attack them head on and still to go to therapy and still healing towards getting treatment, to get my shield from capt. Meds cant come soon enough...I had about 8-10? big triggering events in the past two weeks alone. in the meantime to keep me stable, I have lorazepam and quetiapine You once said it hurts so it can hurt less in the future, Oh how strong you were...now i must learn strength and bravery. It’s slow and the whole good things take time, now i have try explore charts of emotions to explain myself better, because i don't know the words. but today I had a nightmare last night so I am feeling insecure,miserable, sorrowful, shaken,aware and capable. I don't know what happened to the anchor I assume like everything else it ended up in the bin, but now i go looking my anchor is somewhere inside me and I am looking for the thing to help me calm my seas. Next week i get to see a medical clinic that is a special place that is supposed to be a sensory room to help with picking out and treating of trauma, to be honest i think its going to be a fun time of pain. I know this will be painful but it is what it is, in the meantime I decided to cutt back on reduced my hours at work,and the budget is tight grind for this month and hopefully back to full salary and in about a months time it will be mentally better and able to pay for things that I need. I also have something planned in a few days, for a special day in my heart and if it comes on time but I cant tell where about it is from here to china. even if it comes late, ill make sure i do something to mark the occasion. I also had another surprise but that got pushed back so it might have to be in a months time again. might go to the gym tomorrow once i am in a slight better head space as fitness really helps my mental health. chaining up my diet as i am doing some things wrong such as portion sizes and ratios of amounts of food type. eating more proteins to try bulk up to gain muscle. maybe finally getting some iwi omega 3 6 9 brain seaweed... theres alot of battles on my plate and i am taking them one at time. ad bellum animi

[fraldarrius]

really, really hate that i even have to make another post like this, i’ve been putting it off as long as i possibly can, but things are getting pretty dire again and i don’t really have a choice anymore so here we go again

basically, my mom and i are extremely broke and we’re barely staying afloat right now—i STILL haven’t been able to find a job despite looking literally every day and applying for everything that seems even remotely tolerable and won’t make me want to ✨unalive myself✨, so i’m still only getting what i get from unemployment. my mother nearly died in november from sepsis, she spent three weeks in the hospital, and after that was receiving multiple visits a week from extramural nurses since she was sent home with a picc line in her arm for meds. she’s well enough now that the picc line has been removed, but she can still barely walk (the infection that caused her sepsis originated in her foot—she’s severely diabetic, she’s already had a toe amputated because of this and nearly lost her whole foot this time) so working is out of the question, and she’s also relying on unemployment for income. neither of us are making anywhere near enough to completely cover our bills, though, we’ve both been forced to pay things late/put the absolute smallest amount of money possible on bills just so we can like, y’know, eat 🥴 because it’s winter, our power bill has been absolutely insane, like. as of the bill we got last month, it was nearly $1400, and i expect we’ll get a new bill sometime this week that will probably put it around $1600 at the very least (our power bills have been like $400 a month, and i’m pretty sure we only managed to put like $200 on it last time 💀). we are not the only people living in this house, which is why it’s so high, but we’re also the only people paying because the other people who live here are deadbeats, wastes of space, etc., not gonna get into that rn. our internet bill is also extremely high, high enough that i’m genuinely scared to check the exact amount, and i’m seriously shocked we haven’t been disconnected yet. on top of this, my mom and i both carry a lot of debt from loans/credit cards, so that eats up a shit ton of money every month that we just end up having to use again on groceries and other necessities literally because we can’t afford not to, so it’s a cycle that never ends 🥲

additionally, my unemployment runs out next month, so basically, if i haven’t found a job by then and have all the debt that i have right now, im ✨screwed✨ lmao. mom still has plenty of time left on her claim, thankfully, but if i don’t have any income we literally will not have any money to eat. i wish i was joking but i’m not. so i’m once again swallowing my pride to ask for help, because i don’t have any other choice—if anyone is able to help us out at all, we will be so beyond grateful. anything i receive will go toward our bills and to paying down some of the balances on my credit cards so that, if i’m unable to find a job before my unemployment runs out or soon after, i’ll at least be able to keep us fed.

i know this is tumblr and most of us are broke as hell, so please, please do not feel bad if you’re unable to donate anything—all i ask is that you reblog this to hopefully get some more eyes on it, because that’s super helpful in its own way.

i’m going to make a separate post with links to ways y’all can donate, since tumblr loves to hide posts that have links in them from search results 🙄 i’ll pin it so that no one has to go searching for it

thank you in advance, we’ll literally appreciate any help more than any of you know 🥺

[captaincravatthecapricious]

Psychosomatic- Prompt Fill

Soooo I forgot to fully read the prompt, so this isn’t season 2.  Sorry!  Have a bit of a follow up to my broken ribs fic!

cw nausea, vomiting (brief mentions), headaches, migraines, injury, anxiety, fever, oh and Jon is kind of gaslighting himself a little

And I have finished all my bingo prompts, but I plan on choosing another prompt list soon, so keep an eye out if you wanna make some requests! And the rest of the bingo fics will be out soon (I tend to post on Wednesdays, but I make no promises for consistency).  Thanks again to @celosiaa​ for the wonderful bingo card!

“Jon?  Are you sure about this?”

That’s Martin talking to him.  He ought to pay attention.  

Jon wonders if there is a correct answer to the question.  There probably is, if he can think through the headache.  

Think.  

He is at Martin’s flat, has been for about a week.  

Martin is finally going to let him back to work.  Partly because he is starting to heal, and even so there isn’t much you can do for broken ribs.  Partly because Jon needs to save the world, and he has been doing his all the convince Martin of this.  There is also that terrifying thing about needing Statements now.  Not that he really wants to share that with Martin.  Because Martin is the only one who actually cares anymore and he could ruin it if Martin were to… He doesn’t know.  His chest is tight.  Partly from the pain, partly from anxiety.  

Stress, that’s why he feels like shit.  

Stress.  All in his head.  

Christ he has to answer before Martin gets concerned.  

“Yes.  I’m fine, Martin.  You can stop fussing.”  Does that sound like him?  How brusque is he normally?  Does this fall under the typical Jon being an arse (which… he feels very badly about but at this point what does he even say?  They had a few moments …but he never knows what to say now or he’s in too much pain or under too much stress to really be a good conversationalist, and being rude is better than …no it isn’t.  He’s just afraid of letting Martin get too close?).

Christ his head is pounding, and it isn’t like he’s done anything.  

Just the stress.  

Probably.  

Stress or statements.  

He’s fine.  

“It’s just… are you sure?  You look a bit peaky.  And you do need to be gentle with your ribs so they heal, so you don’t, you know puncture a lung and die or something.”

Jon dodges Martin trying to feel his forehead and hisses with pain.  He batts Martin’s hand away instead, pressing his other to his rib cadge.  

If he’s running a fever…  It’s probably just the pain.  He’s been in a lot of pain.  Ribs and now this headache, witch, could easily become a migraine.  

He wonders if he has Excedrin in his office, or hidden in the stacks with what’s left of his belongings.  

“I’m fine.  Just… worried about the Unknowing.  I’m trying to save the world, but had to take some time off… a bit hard to relax with that over my head.  You’re no stranger to anxiety, I’m sure you know the feeling.”  Shit.  Is that too personal?  Was the insensitive?  It’s a bit difficult to ignore, even for Jon, that Martin struggles with anxiety.  He’s seen the prescriptions by the bed, and around the Archives when Martin was living there.  He wasn’t really invading.  Not like he had back….  No.  It’s fine.  He’s fine.  No the anxiety certainly isn’t twisting in his core now, sloshing his insides.  Just the stress.  It’s fine. 

Martin sighs.  “Yeah.  Yeah… I do.  And it isn’t going to get better if we sit around here, is it?  But, you’ll let me know if working doesn’t make you feel better, yeah?  You still need to take it easy.  You aren’t better yet.”  

Jon purses his lips.  Not sure how to answer without outright lying.  “I’ll do my best?  It’s all a bit muddled?  Ribs hurt so it’s hard to sleep.  Stress makes it harder to sleep.  Stress and not sleeping lead to a headache.  Which won’t get better until I sleep, which I can’t do until I can make some progress at work so we all don’t literally die.  Christ, I’m sorry.  Let’s just go.  I’ll have a lie down after I read a Statement and do a bit of research, how about?  I… appreciate what you’ve done for me, but I’m imposing and probably putting you in danger, and I’m not the easiest person to live with…”

“It’s no trouble.  It’s… nice having someone else here.  I’m glad you let me look after you.”

“Not really like I had much of a choice, but I’ve had worse kidnappings.”

Martin makes a face.  

Jon worries he’s gone too far with a joke that isn’t all that funny.  “Sorry.”

“Let’s just go.  Sooner we leave the sooner I can get you back here and resting.  Yes Jon, I am bringing you back here if you’ll let me.  It’s actually less stressful when I know where you are so I can be sure you haven’t been kidnapped again.”

Jon can’t really argue with that.  

The tube may have been a mistake.  

It’s crowded, and there aren’t any open seats, and no one seems to care that he’s carrying a cane.  And while he could probably ask… he won’t.  Martin tries to shield him from the worst of the crown, but it’s the lighting.  Scraping at the backs of his eyes, threatening him with a migraine.  It’s the jolting of the train between stops where he stumbles because he can’t lift his free hand high enough to grab one of the grips without it tugging painfully on his ribs.  Martin tries to hold him steady, but it isn’t enough.  And to make it worse, Jon is certain that every eye is on him.  He’s small but conspicuous.  Messy hair, cane, scars, limp.  

Is it just his paranoia?  Is it the eye?  Is he just tired?  He doesn’t know, but it makes him want to curl up as tightly as he can, ribs be damned, and get out of sight.  It makes him feel sick.  

Martin tuts gently when Jon almost whimpers at the next judder of the train.  “Should have called a cab.”

Jon shakes his head.  “I’d rather be jostled than carsick.”  

Martin glances at him in concern.  Probably assessing the likelihood of Jon getting sick in the carriage.  

Jon wishes that weren’t a valid concern.  

He’s fine.  

It’s the headache.  It’s the stress.  He’ll read a Statement, he’ll do some research, he’ll take a nap if he needs to, but he should be feeling better by then.  

Martin checks on him every half hour or so.  It’s… distracting.  

And concerning.  

The Statement didn’t help.  He still feels dizzy and sick, and the headache has only gotten worse.  He wants to turn off the lights, but sitting in one position, trying not to vomit from the pain has made his ribs stiff.  Stiff to the point that he isn’t sure he can move.  

He tries to do research, but the words start swimming on the page.  Shit.  Is this even stress?  Is he just having a shitty day?  Is he sick?  He can’t afford to be sick.  If he has to recover from an illness that puts him even farther behind.  No.  It’s just stress.  Stress migraine.  

Probably.  

The Statement didn’t help.  Not enough anyhow.  

He doesn’t want Martin to see just how badly off he is.  Can’t bear the disappointed look, the worrying.  Martin has worried enough.  Jon just wants to hide.  To be miserable in peace, just like has has done for years.  But he doesn’t have flat now.  He has a few clothes and a toothbrush at Martin’s flat now.  He has the same at Georgie’s.  And he has a shelf with some blankets and a few boxes of things from his flat in the stacks.  Far enough back, and semi covered by a tarp that he’s not yet been discovered there.  

He should go there, if he can.  Curl up in his nest of blankets and pillows, see if he can find some Excedrin, and hope that helps.  

He should eat something before the meds, but he’s nearly overcome with nausea when he leavers himself to standing.  Has to detour to expel what little Martin made him eat that morning.  He limps to his shelf.  And nearly cries when he has to try to get himself on in without hurting his ribs more.  

Sneaking off before Martin can notice just how sorry a state he is in.  

He manages to sleep.  Deeply.  Painkillers helping enough that he can pass out for a couple hours.  Probably.  His head still hurts too much to look at his phone.  Enough that he shouldn’t try moving, but he’s certain Martin must be out of his mind with worry.  But…

But he can’t move.  His ribs hurt too much.  And trying to sit up makes him nauseous enough to wonder if he has anything to be ill into should the need arise.  

He wants to sleep more.  He wants to sleep long enough to find the Tim of last year to find him.  He misses his friend.  He wants the old TIm.  He wants the old him.  He wants to be dragged upright at his Research desk by Tim and for Tim to demand to know why he’s at work in such a sorry state.  

He wants Martin to find him.  

He wants Sasha to.  

(He wants his mother to).  

He feels too poorly to pull the blanket up, so he shivers, whimpering a little when that jostles his ribs, jostles his migraine.  

He drifts.  Too nauseous, too achey to really sleep.  

He almost doesn’t hear Martin searching for him.  Sounding tired and worried.  Calling his name, and presumably checking all the rows, all the shelves for somewhere Jon might have tucked himself.  

Jon wants to call back, but the minimal noise Martin is making hurts too much to think about responding.  He’ll find him soon enough.  Probably.  Jon isn’t feeling well enough to disguise his hideaway.  Even if that makes him feel dreadfully exposed.  (Vulnerable to Daisy and Elias and even Melanie and Tim on their more aggressive days).  

He drifts more, as Martin draws closer.  

Jon wakes properly to Martin feeling his forehead.  Brushing a few stray tears away.  Tutting at the fever Jon presumes he is running.  “Oh Jon, why didn’t you say something?  I’ve been so worried.  Burning up, we ought to get you home.”

Jon is ashamed to say he whimpers at the thought of moving.  “Hurts.”  It’s slurred and pathetic.  

Martin shushes him gently.  “Is it alright if I lift you?”  

“Careful.”

“I will be,” Martin promises.  

And he is. 

It still hurts.  

And the cab ride makes him sick.  

But then it’s over and he’s back in Martin’s bed, and he can’t make himself worry about anything anymore.  

[sirfrogsworth]

AOC streamed on Twitch with Ilhan Omar and people think they should be fixing the country instead of playing video games and why do they have nice computers? Aren’t socialists supposed to be poor because they gave all their money away to redistribute it?: A 5am rant and explanation with a title that is too long and got away from me. (Complete with Ambien-fueled Director’s Commentary)

(Hello. Froggie’s brain here. Fair warning, I took an ambien a few hours ago and still didn’t sleep. It’s mostly worn off and I am not drunk on sleep meds, but It’s very possible I am going to mess this post up and get things wrong about socialism. But sleep is for losers, and who needs research when you have a great memory, and I like to write dangerously. *puts on sunglasses* LET’S DO THIS! *takes of sunglasses cuz I can’t see*)

It really bothers me when people have this assumption that socialists are supposed to be dirt poor. People will criticize AOC for not giving all of her salary away. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve seen someone reply “Shouldn’t you redistribute your wealth?” You could probably look at any of her tweets and find that somewhere in the comments. 

(Go ahead and look. I’ll wait here.)

First, she has to maintain two residences with decent security because otherwise some numbnuts would probably try to attack her. So $175K isn’t exactly a windfall. 

(Here comes my first point. Get ready.)

But, at the heart of socialism, the goal is to properly value labor. 

(I think that’s right. I’m sure Karl had a much cooler and more technical explanation tho. I’m not talking to myself am I? I feel like I am talking to myself *with* you. It’s a communal talking to myself. I am making perfect sense. Shut up.)

Which means if you do a job, you get paid fairly for it.  Which means no one should be poor.  Which means everyone should be able to afford the necessities. AND they should even be able to buy a few frivolous items if they wish. Like new clothes and a haircut. 

(Okay, here is where I put on the ranty pants.)

Or in Ilhan’s case, a decent gaming rig.

(Which I don’t actually see as frivolous because it is a tool that her entire family probably uses for both entertainment and productivity tasks. It’s possible she is even borrowing it from a staffer. I dunno. But having a nice thing isn’t going to cause someone to go hungry. Starvation is a systemic issue that she is actually working very hard to overcome. And playing video games during free time to encourage voting isn’t a waste of time. And I can’t think of what else AOC and Ilhan could possibly be doing considering they work longer hours than just about any other reps, they passed a COVID bill months ago, and sometimes they need a goddamn break from the death threats and harassment so they can decompress and maybe enjoy their lives for a few hours. GOT THAT?

What was I talking about?

OH RIGHT! Socialism! The perfect subject to try and explain at 5am after taking an Ambien. I totally got this.)

There is even room in socialism for some people to earn more money than others. *gasp* You just can’t amass wealth by exploiting someone else’s labor. Because then you would be undervaluing it. Plus workers would own the means of production to help prevent any exploitation. See how that works? 

(”You want your widgets, Mr. Boss Man? Well you’re free to buy your own tools and make them yourself!” Very clever precaution, Karl.)

Wealthy people wouldn’t necessarily be abolished. Little “m” millionaire’s might even be possible. The world actually has a shit ton of resources and we don’t actually have to let 10 people hoard most of them. 

(Jeff Bezos is building a $40,000,000 clock that keeps time for 10,000 years. But yeah, Ilhan got a mid level, last gen video card. Clearly it’s her fault we’re all broke.)

But some labor could be more valuable than other labor. Some might choose to work more hours. Or they might produce something that creates more profit. Or you might use a hybrid economic system that has great social programs along with regulated capitalism that allows for greater wealth but uses taxation to mitigate rampant greed.

(I know that last bit isn’t pure Marxian and I’m sure that causes problems and I know many want to yeet *all* the capitalism into the sun, but they are definitely doing better than we are with our free-market-do-whatever chaos.

Where was I going with all this? Writing under the influence is really not advised. Let’s try a generic statement that gets to the point of all this.) 

As long as all labor is valued fairly, no one will have to starve. 

But also no one will end up with obscene wealth to the point where they could never spend their earnings in a lifetime. 

It’s a more balanced system that reduces extremes on both ends. 

(That wasn’t terrible. But now I’m going to pivot and address the “wealth redistribution” canard. What is a canard? Sounds a bit like a fruit, but like one that is hard to open and get to the good stuff inside. Like, “Get the machete, I gotta cut open this canard so I can add booze to its juices and get wasted.”)

If it is done properly, there actually shouldn’t be a need for much “wealth redistribution” beyond investing in social programs and safety nets. But I don’t see that as redistribution. Everyone benefits from investing in their community. In every place that uses tax money to truly invest in social programs--like healthcare and schooling... they have a higher standard of living. 

(And now I’m going to create a strawman. But it’s a realistic strawman based on many conversations I’ve seen. So is that still a strawman? Why am I narrating my writing process? Oh right... failed Ambien.)

Some might say, “I never get sick and I am no longer in school! Why do I have to pay for other people?!!” 

(That’s an actual quote from my own Uncle Strawman. So don’t accuse me of debate fallacies.)

And I would point out to that very realistic depiction of a person that exists that they get roads and fire trucks and infrastructure and a long list of things that people take for granted every day but make a modern life possible. 

(Don’t you like pooping and not having to dump it on the street? Cough up the tax money for a sewer system, you poopy douche.)

But my super realistic Fox News strawman person would still benefit from the healthcare and the schools even if he never uses them. Healthy educated people are less likely to commit crimes out of desperation. (Safer communities!) They are more likely to work and stimulate the economy. (Better economy!) They might end up being a doctor that saves your little straw heart some day. (Unlikely hypothetical!) 

(I think I’m going to end on an overused platitude so I can try to go to sleep again. Oh, I’m going to hit the H button to make it bigger. That always looks cool.)

A rising tide lifts all boats. 

(Yes, I am aware this is an extremely simplistic explanation that might bend accuracy for the sake that simplicity. And I know this is a hyper-utopic hypothetical that doesn’t address any of the possible issues and complications in converting to a non-capitalist society. And I know AOC is a Democratic Socialist which incorporates capitalism. I’m going for a Socialism 101 vibe on this one, because if I tried to go FULL MARX TO THE EXTREME I’d probably screw it up. Especially since, ya know, Ambien. Honestly I’m probably not yet at the point of my economic philosophy studies to even speak on that level with authority. But as long as you are civil, avoid pedantry, and don’t nitpick for nitpicking’s sake, I invite anyone to improve my 5am I-can’t-sleep-ambian rant about debunking socialism-makes-you-poor myths.)

(Say goodnight, Froggie.)

Goodnight, Froggie.

[starwars-oc-ship-week]

keep hesitating

i’ve actually been dying to do this ship week. tyche and enlil are my favorites and they’re a disaster! cw for: gambling, mentions of alcohol, sex mentions. if you wanna see my art of them they both have tags on my blog!

Tyche Basha meets her future husband for the first time.

Most people have this happen. You meet a future partner for the first time, you look in their eyes, and sometimes there is something special from that very moment onwards. But Tyche didn’t expect to. She liked herself the way she was. She didn’t want to change.

That wasn’t on her mind, though, that night. Nar Shaddaa wasn’t somewhere for that sort of fantasy. It was her workplace more than anything. A friend of her biggest cash cow, Grakkus, had come to her with a very specific complaint and an open ultimatum, and for such a fat sum of credits, it was supposed to be easy. Some gambling rogue who owed a hefty few credits and had accidentally lured Imperials into his casino— barely any rougher than satin and poor in a fight, but inexplicably most bounty hunters hadn’t taken him. She figured they were probably having some difficulty getting him to stick around when he got to realizing what was going on— and with more opulent prey, or rich brats, they did usually just leave like that. It made quick kills hard.

This one— Enlil Velas— allegedly was an Imperial defector, by rumor. He was a medic of some sort at one point, and still practiced, but had become a career gambler with arm candy on every planet. Arhan, pretty, and he knew it. He owed the Hutt cartels enough for Tyche to take interest, at least, and she wasn’t cheap. Even so, she was considering double dipping her reward for such a good job. That was, if they’d take her fake identifications here. She had switched up her strategy with Atro aboard; the Snow Kite was too pretty a ship to let get scuffed in a fight.

She had shifted her strategy for this, too. She wasn’t going for a good strategic fight and kill, or the silent, stalking of her prey. She was the bait and lure and hook all in one. If he had a thing for pretty faces, then Tyche would play along. It was how she kept half her contracts, anyways. Very few people said no to such lovely cornflower skin and golden eyes, or ignored a figure like hers.

So she slipped into a minidress, glossed her lips, and pulled on her favorite heels. Clutching a jeweled purse close, pretending to be shy, she inched into the casino. Flashing lights, Sabacc tables, dancing girls, neon drinks— this would be her place if she hadn’t had to be a good actress. And like a good actress, she found her audience nearly immediately.

In the dim corner, was a man with skin like an orchid, a tower even sitting, with a waterfall of silky black hair He was wearing a very tacky gold jumpsuit, she thought— certainly too much for anyone, but especially on someone so long and lanky. He absently flirted with the drink girl, who giggled. Nobody else would do this, she thought, sitting down across from him at the only empty seat at the card table.

“Hey,” said a soft tenor from across the table. “I’m on a winning streak, so I’ve been buying all the prettiest people at the table drinks. Do you want one?” He swirled a glass, and Tyche knew immediately this was the kind of guy she would’ve laughed with for one night under different circumstances before ditching in the morning.

“Hm?” She perked up, feigning temporary confusion. “Oh, uh— sure! I don’t really know any local specialties so just get me something sweet. Can you deal me in?” she asked the droid.

“Put down your credits,” said the droid, and Tyche obliged, crossing her ankles.

“So,” said Enlil, making his first play, “have you played Pazaak?”

“When I was a little girl,” said Tyche meekly, a lie— and something flashed in her opponent’s dark eyes.

“Here. Let me show you. Bet’s off, this first one is on me. You get to twenty— see, that’s a five,” he said, a finger hovering over her deck. “You can’t go over or you lose. Let’s play.”

“A—alright,” she said, reshuffling her deck. “So what’s your name? I haven’t been to many casinos. I’m glad I found a friendly face.”

“Enlil,” he said with a smile. “But now I’ve got to ask, too. What’s yours?”

“Tyra,” she said meekly. “I’m just visiting friends. But I wanted to experience the nightlife.”

“You couldn’t have found a better guide,” he hummed, flipping a card and tucking it into his hand.

Tyche shyly hid her face behind her cards. “So where did you learn to play?” she asked.

“Med school,” he said calmly. “Surprised?”

“A little,” she lied. “But you seem awfully smart.”

“Not that smart,” he said. “I dropped.”

“Oh,” she said. “My line of work isn’t so exciting. I’m in finance.”

“So you really know how to gamble, don’t you? That must be how you afforded such a pretty dress?”

Tyche giggled. “Please, let me focus on the game!”

“You’re very cute when you’re concentrating.” He grinned. “You get a little dimple on the bridge of your nose.”

“Shh!” she giggled as the waitress brought her drink. “It’s embarrassing!”

“That is not even close to embarrassing,” he said with a dry smile. “Embarrassing is getting recognized by a friend of your parents when you’re losing in Sabbac. You’re just precious.”

“Do you really think so?” She tucked a drifting white strand of hair behind her ear.

“Of course,” he said, winking and taking a sip of his drink.

“Maybe you wouldn’t mind showing me one of the machines I saw towards the back parlor? I— I couldn’t get the hang of it.” Here she went. Clean games, she thought. Clean.

“Oh, sure, honey.” He stood— a whole foot and a half over poor Tyche, who was already short for a woman, but he offered his arm like a gentleman anyways. She led the way, past the loud thrumming music and laughter and concealing smiles and dancing, to the door to one of the maintenance rooms.

“You sure this goes any—“ he began as she opened the door, but before he finished that, she had a blaster to his stomach, concealed and barely larger than her palm.

“You’re smart,” she said, any trace of the sweet naive girl gone from her intonation. “Let’s figure out the game inside.”

The hatch slid shut behind them, and she reached onto the holster strapped to her thigh, picking her vibroblade for this occasion. With a flick of her wrist, she extended it, and kicked him swiftly in the back of the legs, then used his gangly instability to her advantage, shoving him straight to the ground in one motion.

“Alright. You know what I’m here for. Time’s up with the Hutts. I want some quick questions answered before—“

Before she finished the job.

His hair had slid back behind his shoulders. They were wearing the same earrings. She had bought them from a street vendor on Mygeeto with her sister many years ago. They were her favorite. His were identical, minus a few handmade touches or anomalies.

“Before…”

His beetle-black eyes were wide with fear. He wasn’t a threat. He was an expensive target but other than play a few bad hands, what had he done? Those eyes of hers— it was just like Atro, back on the ship. She couldn’t be going soft and picking up another stray cat. She couldn’t.

She couldn’t finish this.

“Before I get you out of here. Everyone on Nar Shaddaa wants you taken care of. I’m getting you offworld.”

“You aren’t with the Empire, are you?” There was a tremor in his voice. “They’ve been tracking me down trying to recruit me again for months.” Recruit meant force. Tyche shivered.

“No. I’m just getting some guy who’s in over his head off world.” She reached out a hand. “You said you’re a doctor?”

“Well, loosely,” he shrugged. “I was a battlefield medic after I failed to make a doctorate. The Empire is pretty fast and loose with its—“

“You know what you’re doing?” she asked, cutting him off.

“Well enough.”

“Then you know exactly how badly I could hurt you if you try that flirty pretty boy shit with me again. We’re going to my ship and you won’t say a word. You’re going to respect me and my mechanic, you’re going to stop that schtick, and we’re going to find a way for you to scrounge up the cash to pay back the Hutts.”

“You’re serious?” he said, staring at Tyche in disbelief.

“Yeah.” She wished she wasn’t. “And my name isn’t Tyra. It’s Tyche Basha.”

“The Tyche Basha of glamorous, charming, heartbreaker assassin fame?”

“Overstated and untrue reputation,” she said dismissively. “But sure. That one.”

“And you’re—“

“Don’t thank me,” she said, opening the door and walking out. “It’s barely any trouble.”

“Well, you could’ve made a lot of money. I know you were about to kill me.” He pushed his hair behind his ears. “I’m not as stupid as you thought.”

“That remains to be seen. You couldn’t tell I knew how to play Pazaak already. And you messed up the directions.” She smiled. “I parked on the lower plaza. Let’s get walking.”

[imanativeofswlondondahling]

Becoming A Stark (6)- Peter Parker x Stark!femReader

Word Count:  2785

Warnings: swearing

Author’s Note: Peter gets introduced finally!

Chapter One || Previous Chapter || Master List

Your dad made you take a few days off after the low blood sugar incident, so by the next Monday you are so ready to get back to school. Science and technology might not be your favorite topics, however MSST is great and it means you get to see your friends. Betty and Astrid are waiting for you when Happy drops you off on Monday. Pepper rode with you, because your choice was having her come with you or having Tony and you were not dealing with Tony Stark outside of your school again… The first day of school drama was enough of kids trying to get close enough to take pictures of him. But your dad was adamant that he wasn’t going to miss your first day. You shake the memory from your mind as Pepper gives you a hug. “If you need anything, you call me or Tony. Or Happy if you can’t reach us. Even if-”

“I’ll be fine. I could have come back last week and be fine. Dr. Cho said so.” You say with a smile. But you wrap your arms around Pepper and give her one more hug. “I love you.” You whisper and feel a little guilty that you said it to your dad’s girlfriend before you said it to your dad, but it felt right.

“I love you too.” Pepper says back. “Happy will be here for you when school finishes.” You turn to get out of the car when Pepper calls, “Lunch!” handing you the lunch box you almost forgot. 

“Thanks Pepper! See you at dinner.” Ever since the conversation in the Med Bay, Pepper had been trying to make it home in time for dinner so that you, Tony and Pepper felt more like a family. Sure it had only been like five day, but it still was something you enjoyed on top of having the Avengers there when they weren’t on missions. You shut the door behind you and turned to be enveloped in a hug between your two best friends. “Guys I’m fine.”

“You missed almost an entire week because of a diabetic seizure. We’re allowed to be worried.” Betty states. It’s not the first time that diabetes has pulled you from school and Betty gets worried every time.

“I know, but I’m fine. Tony overreacted by making me stay home. Dr. Cho said I could have come back Wednesday, but Tony had me stay home the rest of the week because and I quote ‘I’m your dad I’m allowed to worry.’”

“STARK OVER HERE!” The paparazzi don’t know your first name, but they know the school you attend and have seen you out with Pepper and Tony in the few weeks since everything has been announced. 

“Let’s get inside.” You say, not even looking towards the paps. Betty and Astrid follow you up the stairs and into MSST. You have a feeling that there will at least be a picture of Pepper dropping you off at school if not more on some gossip page. It’s not even that interesting. You go to school every day. Although, most days Tony or Pepper don’t come with you so maybe that’s why it’s interesting?

“Y/N watch out.” Betty’s warning comes too late. You crash into one of the most handsome people you’ve ever seen.

“Shit! I’m sorry!” You exclaim, expecting to hit the tile of the hallway.

“My fault. I should have been looking where I was walking.” Arms wrap around you to keep you from hitting the floor.

“Penis Parker crashing into Iron Man’s daughter. Now you’ll have all the Avengers after you!” A boy who you think is called Flash calls from across the hallway. The boy whose arms are around you takes a second look at you after hearing what Flash said.

“You’re Y/N Stark?”

“Fraid so.” You say scrunching your face ever so slightly. “I’m hoping your first name isn’t actually Penis though?”

“Peter. Peter Parker.” His face goes red as he helps stand you back up on your red converse feet.

“Well it was nice running into you Peter. Hopefully we don’t do that again soon though.”

“Your dad might sue me for damaging a Stark and I can’t afford that.” You can’t help but laugh at that.

“Yeah he might try, but I’d get Pepper to stop him before it got too crazy. Bye Peter.” You don’t wait for a response as you turn to follow Betty and Astrid towards your lockers. “What do we know about Peter Parker?” You ask Betty as you walk, knowing that if anyone knows anything it will be Betty.

“He’s a Sophomore. On the Decathlon team with Liz. I think he’s also in band and he’s on the robotic team.” Liz was one of the few upperclassmen Betty knew from one of the clubs she was in. You had sat with her at lunch thanks to Betty but you didn’t know how to feel about her. “You should ask Liz about him. See what she knows if you're interested in him.” Betty says with a smile. “Maybe Y/N can find a date to Homecoming.” She tosses to Astrid.

“Like Tony Stark will let me out of the house for Homecoming with anyone of the opposite gender? Doubtful. I’ll have better luck going with a girl or with a group of friends.” You say as you spin your locker combination. You dump your backpack and pull the books you need for the first half of the day. 

“I think you could convince him. But if you don’t want to we can always pull a group together. It’ll be fun! It’s our first Homecoming!” Betty grabs her own books as she goes on about potential plans.

“It’s not even for another few months, so we have time.” Astrid says from a few lockers down. Betty and you turn to head towards your English class as Astrid heads off to her French class. Before you get inside your phone pings with a notification about the Avengers. Lagos? What are they doing there? You scroll through the news articles trying to understand what’s going on, but your teacher tells you to put your phone away. You open your computer to take notes and open your text stream with your dad, which is more bare than most people would think a text stream with Iron Man would be. 

Y: What is happening in Lagos?

T: Nothing that I know about right now. You’re in class. Focus on class.

Of course the one time you need him to tell you things he pulls the dad card of telling you to focus on class. Pepper won’t have information you need and the other Avengers are across the world at the moment apparently. Tony only responded because FRIDAY is part of his suit too. So now instead of being able to focus on being back at school for the first time in almost a week, you wished you were home still so you could talk to your dad and see what the actual fuck was happening.

By the time you got to lunch, everyone in the school it seems are aware that something is happening with the Avengers and everyone wants to hear from you. But you don’t have the patience to deal with anyone, except for trying to get an answer from your father.

“Y/N, now’s not really a good time.”

“Make time.” You say shortly. “Explain what’s going on. Because I have news reports and high schoolers telling me what’s going on or expecting me to explain to them what’s happening and I don’t know what the fuck is happening.”

“Well I’m in the middle of dealing with the government and possible rogue Avengers so I think my problems trump yours at this point in time kiddo.”

“Rogue Avengers?” Your voice drops as you turn the corner, trying to get away from ears that are trying to hear too much.

“I promise I will talk with you about everything when you get home, but right now I need to focus on Avengers stuff and you need to focus on school. Just give a no comment to the school kids. You’re not an Avenger, so they shouldn’t be expecting answers for you about what your dad is doing.”

“Fine, but I’m expecting answers tonight.”

“I know. Hey kiddo. I love you, no matter what else is going on. Just know that ok?” Your voice chokes up, as if he knows you told Pepper first. “You don’t have to say it back, I just… there was shit today that made me think that I need you to know that ok?” You bite your lip for a second before biting a bullet and just going for it.

“I love you too… Dad.” There’s silence on the other end for a moment and you think the call has dropped before Tony continues as if nothing happened.

“I’ll see you after school. Happy will pick you up. Go with him ok?” 

“Of course.” The call ends and you're more confused than when it started.  Making your way over to where Betty and Liz as well as a few of Liz’s friends are sitting, they look at you when you sit down. 

“Everything ok?” Betty asks.

“Oh yeah, Dad wanted to know how my numbers were doing cuz of last week.” Everyone sat looking like they were waiting for more. “Wait, you guys thought he would tell me what’s going on in Avenger-land? No. He barely tells me what we’re having for dinner.” You force out a semi real sounding laugh and Betty joins it. 

“He honestly doesn’t share that much with you. So Liz, how’s planning for Homecoming going?” You tune out the rest of the prattle as you look at some info on your phone, but something non Avengers related catches your eye. A video of a superhero called Spider-Man? Catching a car with his bare hands. It’s impressive. And it seems like something that Dad should be aware of especially if things are going to shit right now. So you send him the video, not thinking anything about it. 

By the end of the day though, when you and Happy walk into an empty tower, you start thinking more about the issues your dad mentioned. “Happy have you seen Dad all day?” Happy tries to control his emotions at hearing you call Tony Dad. 

“He’s been Iron Man most of the day. Hasn’t needed a driver. He did say he has to go deal with something. But I am to stay here with you until he gets back he said.”

“So you’re my baby-sitter?”

“I prefer the term companion?” Happy suggests.

“Where are the rest of the Avengers? Like I’d at least imagine Wanda, Vision, Clint, and Natasha to be here?” Usually the group of them were around when you got home from school, but today the tower seems rather empty. 

“I think Wanda and Vision are upstate. Natasha too. Clint might have gone home.” You always seem to forget that Clint has an actual home and family. You shoot a text to Natasha asking where she is, but don’t expect to hear anything if she’s off doing actual business stuff. As you slide the Stark Phone back into your pocket, you wander up towards your room to dump your backpack. After kicking off your shoes, you think about asking if Happy will take you to the Avenger’s Compound since there’s no one here, but you know your dad wants to keep you as close to the city as possible. 

So instead of putting off your homework you decide to get started on it. The tower is too quiet and it puts you on edge. Usually there is at least a handful of Avengers making noise or your dad tinkering around or something. But it’s too damn quiet. “FRIDAY, play Tony Stark Can Rot.” You maybe should change the name of your playlist, but right now you’re too focused on putting something on to make the Tower less quiet.

Finally, after spending way too long on your essay that’s due next week, you trod down to the kitchen. You can count on one hand the number of times you’ve had to make yourself food since you moved into the Tower. Steve likes cooking. You guessed it felt the most like being at home to him. But it meant you never really had to make food unless you got hungry at weird times. But making dinner tonight was weird for multiple reasons. First of all, none of the Avengers were here. It’s not the weirdest of things, but definitely made your top ten. Second, and most weird since the talk you had had, was that neither Tony or Pepper were here. Could you manage on your own? Sure. But it definitely counted as the weirdest thing since you all were trying to make more family time. 

You sat down at the empty kitchen table with a veggie patty and some French fries. Not the fanciest dinner, but as a dinner for one, it would work. You try scrolling through Twitter to find out more about the Lagos thing, but most of it seems like news from over a month ago, so why is it being brought up again? There’s even some Sokovia news being brought up but that’s even older. You close out Twitter and text Pepper.

Y: When are you coming home?

P: probably late. Caught up with a lot of SI stuff. Sorry I missed dinner. Love you.

You want to text your dad, but at this point, he’s already missed dinner too. He’s probably off doing Iron Man stuff. So instead, you just throw some music on from your phone and eat your dinner. When you’re done you put your plate in the sink and make your way back up to your room. You have biology readings, Intro to Calc notes to revise, and English readings for tomorrow to still do and you could start on your German studying if you want to get ahead. 

It’s close to midnight when there’s a knock on your door, softly almost like it doesn’t want to be heard. “Hey,” Pepper says softly when she sees you're still up. “Shouldn’t you be heading to bed?”

“Finishing up the last bits of homework. Did you just get home?” She nods but makes her way into your room to sit down on your bed. You turn in your desk chair to face her. “Long day?”

“Super long. How was school?”

“Fine, boring, too long.”

“You miss a week and that’s all the catch up I get?”

“Everyone was going on and on about this Lagos stuff which I don’t get why it’s being brought up again and Dad wouldn’t tell me anything.” Pepper’s head tilts to the left ever so slightly.

“He doesn’t always talk about what’s going on inside his head. But come on, you missed a whole week of school and there was no drama that you can catch me up on?”

“Well it’s not really drama but I literally ran into a boy today.”

“Bumps and bruises from it?”

You shake your head. “No he caught me before I could fall. He’s kind of cute though.”

“And what did we learn about him after that, because doesn’t Betty know everything?”

“Well his name is Peter. He’s a Sophomore. He’s in Decathalon with Liz, who we sit with at lunch, and Betty said she’s pretty sure he’s in band and on the robotic team too.”

“Well I hope to learn more about this Peter kid. Maybe you’ll have to ask him-”

“I’m not asking him to anything. It’s my first year at this school and I’m already too much news by being Tony Stark's daughter. Literally some other kid teased him when he crashed into me saying that Dad was going to send all the other Avengers after him for bumping into me and then when I said I hope we don’t literally run into each other again he said something along the lines of ‘your dad might sue me for damaging a Stark and I can’t afford that’. And he’s not far off from the truth.”

“We wouldn’t let your dad go that crazy.” Pepper reassures you. “Now, it’s late and you have school in the morning, get to bed.”

“Is Dad not home?”

“He had that MIT thing this morning and I think he was going upstate to deal with some Avenger stuff this afternoon. He may stay at the compound tonight.”

“Oh.” He didn’t mention any of that to you. And you’re somewhat disappointed that he didn’t.

Becoming A Stark Tag list: @persephonehemingway  @iamaunicorn4704  @furiouspockettoad  @daughter-of-stark  @eternalharry  @huntective-kyeo @riiis-stuff @sunnyoongles @cosmicqueenieb

Permanent tag list: @wormonastringonastick

[never-not-ever]

It sucks. It’s like I can feel the “okayness” draining from my body. It’s so weird but I swear I can feel it.

I had therapy at 1 and after seeing my diary card she was worried about the SI and asked if I had any means which resulted in me telling her the various methods that have gone through my mind recently. The biggest one would have been an OD on unused psych meds that I’ve never gotten around to throwing away.

I picked up my friend from her job/my old store and where I still get my meds from. She works in the pharmacy and we used to be really close and when we’re together it feels like we still are but we both suck on the communication thing and she’s a nursing student so she doesn’t get to hang out a lot. Anyways I didn’t want to go in and see any familiar faces since I just went back out on my leave so she got my meds for me and then we got Chipotle and caught up. I told my therapist that I could see if my friend could dispose of my unused meds and she had me text her during the session. She said yes and I gave them to her when we met up. 

I know I just posted yesterday about wishing I had more friends and here I am talking about a close one but I haven’t seen her since April and we hardly talk but I guess I do consider her a close friend.

Back to therapy... it was tough. We talked a lot about validating my depression especially since I’ve taken self harm off the table and one of the many reasons I self harm is to validate how I’m feeling. Talking to her about the SI felt invalidating in a sense (and I told her this) cause if I really wanted to do it I would just go and do it. Telling her about methods I’ve thought about sounds like it’s not real cause if it was I wouldn’t say anything that could jeopardize doing it and she said the fact that I’ve actually thought about it so in depth is proof that the SI is very much a problem right now.

I haven’t heard back yet from my psychiatrist about an earlier appointment and I’m partly anxious she won’t be able to see me this week but also partly relieved she didn’t reply today and ask to meet tomorrow cause I can’t afford the appointment til I get paid on Wednesday 🙃

and I’ll end here

[drrameyfanpage]

The Wedding Date - Chapter 1

Author’s note: I needed something that wasn’t about the lawsuit, Landry, or even Bryce. I wanted something that focuses really just on Ethan and MC. I’m currently writing Just a Walk in the Park, which meets all three, but this idea came to me. Since I can’t help not starting a new story, here this one is.

Summary: Set months after the lawsuit, MC (Alexandra) has been cleared. Though Ethan has returned to work, he’s still keeping her at a distance. That changes when he has to go to his sister’s wedding.

Word Count: 3,092

Tag List: @fangirlingmum  @paisleylovergirl @nobounderiesplease @radlovedreamer

Let me know if you want to be tagged or don’t want to be tagged.

The lawsuit was over and Landry, though he still had a job, he had been kicked off the list for the diagnostics team. Naveen was even starting to improve. Once a week Ethan would drive out to his house and stay the night. He would take some blood for tests and make sure his mentor and friend was still taking all the meds.

One thing that didn’t seem to be improving was Ethan and Alexandra’s not relationship. There had been a few kisses here and there since the day Naveen left but nothing any farther. That had been Ethan’s fault. Alexandra had tried and tried, but he continued to push her away. When he returned to work finally, he kept his distance.

He watched as Bryce seemed to take up the distance Ethan was creating between him and Alexandra. It hurt to watch but Ethan tried to convince himself it was for the best. It was what was best for her. In the long run he would just end up pushing her away like he did everyone else. He would see them together and would say over and over to himself it’s for the best.

That didn’t make it hurt any less. He thought about her constantly and just wanted to be in her company. Without Naveen there was no reason to actively seek her out.

Ethan rested his head in his hand as stood at the nurse’s station. He could feel a headache coming on. He could also hear Bryce’s laughter coming down the hall. He missed a nurse giving him a concerned look.

Alexandra glanced at Ethan and then stopped walking. Bryce gave an irritated sigh beside her. She knew he didn’t like Ethan but she couldn’t help to look at the man who she cared deeply for. He didn’t look good at the moment.

“I’ll catch up with you.” She barely glanced back at Bryce walking towards Ethan. ‘Hey.”

He took his head out of his hand and looked over at her. She gave him a small smile and for a moment it felt like they were the only two people in the world.

“Are you okay?” She reached out resting her hand on his arm.

He glanced down at. God, he wanted to pull her into his arms and bury his face in her blonde hair. Before he could respond Harper called out to him from behind him.

There was a tone to her voice he didn’t like and even Alexandra looked uneasy around him at her. He turned ready to take out some of his frustration on his ex but the harsh ‘what’ died on his lips. Harper gave him a sympathetic look as she stood in front of his parents. She had never met them but he had told her a little about them.

“What are you doing here?” Ethan asked harshly.

“Why don’t we go to your office?” Harper suggested and looked over at Alexandra with a look of help.

“There’s no need. I’m busy.” Ethan turned back to the counter to continue looking over the chart from earlier.

“Maybe you should talk to them.” Alexandra stepped closer to him keeping her voice low. It didn’t take a genius to see the family resemblance and figure out that was his parents.  

“Nothing to talk about, Rookie.” He glanced at her before writing a note on the chart.

“Well, I don’t think they’re going anywhere until you do.” She gave him a pointed looked, that said turn around and talk to them.

He sighed flipping the chart closed and putting it where it needed to go. He glared at her before turning around. “What do you want?”

“Ethan!” She whispered at him.

His mother glanced around at the people who had stopped to see what was going on before her eyes land on Alexandra. She looked over the young woman before looking at her son. “Your sister invited you to her wedding and she’s yet to hear back from you.”

“Ethan!” Alexandra whispered at him scolding him again.

“She’s upset you seem to not becoming. I’m here because I told her we would try. I hope we can put aside our differences for the week and you’ll come to the wedding.” His mother seemed to struggle with the words.

“No.” Ethan said simply.

Alexandra glared at him. “This is your sister’s wedding.” She said.

“It’s still a no.”

“Ethan, don’t be so stubborn.” His mother said.

Harper shifted uncomfortably. “We really should take this to your office.” She gave him a look.

“Your sister is asking for you.” Alexandra tried.

“Your friend here is right.” His mother said.

“Girlfriend.” Ethan corrected before he could stop himself.

Alexandra tried not to look surprised as Harper just rolled her eyes. People around them all seemed to be whispering to each other. Alexandra knew Bryce was still standing somewhere behind her and knew he was probably hurt. Even if it was untrue no one knew that but Ethan and Alexandra.

Ethan wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her to his side. “I’ll make the effort for Katie, but Alexandra is coming with me.”

His mother and father looked from him to Alexandra. His father made a disapproving sound before his mother tapped her shoe against his. “We can accommodate that.” She held out a large purple envelop. “Katie wants you at all the events.”

Ethan made no movement for envelop, so Alexandra stepped away from him and took it. His mother and her made eye contact for a moment and older woman looked almost grateful. Alexandra gave her a small smile before stepping back. Ethan pulled her to his side again.

“I’m sure Ethan can get off, I’ll have to check and see if I can.” Alexandra said. “Is there some way to let you know which events we’ll both be at?”

“The RSVP number in the invitation. Just send it a text.”

Harper and Ethan exchanged a look. “I’m sure we can find coverage for your shifts.” Harper said knowing from just looking at Ethan how uncomfortable this whole thing was for him.

“Great.” Alexandra said looking between everyone. “I’ll shoot you a text to confirm.”

“That would be great.” His mother wrapped her hand around her husband’s arm. “We’ll see you soon then.” It was awkward as the couple headed back to the elevator.

Even after Harper had given the okay that they were gone, Ethan didn’t let go of Alexandra. She tore open the envelop and pulled out a thick almost pamphlet like invitation.

“Well that wasn’t awkward or anything.” Harper said coming to stand by them.

Ethan shot her a dirty look before he looked down at the invitation. Alexandra flipped through it. There were dinners, a picnic with lawn games, a cruise, a wine and paint, and more events all leading up to the wedding, cocktail hour, and reception.

“This is like several days!” Alexandra look up worriedly at Harper.

“We need to go shopping.” Ethan said not even fazed by the invitation.

“I can’t take these many days off.” She looked to Ethan this time.

“You can’t seriously be thinking about posing as his girlfriend?” Bryce had tried to remain quiet. “Those people looked nothing but awful.”

Harper rolled her eyes at the surgeon. He had been following after Alexandra like a lost puppy since day one. At least she had managed to see Ethan had feelings elsewhere after a while and left him alone. She hadn’t liked his interest in Dr. Flynn, but the doctor seemed to have a positive effect on him. Harper could be called many things, but she was not about going after men who were unavailable.

Alexandra looked up at Ethan, there was a look on his face that she couldn’t read but it made her shiver with desire. She wished he could see that if he just tried they could make it work. She knew he would push her away when they were alone during the almost week they would be off, but she hoped she would have the chance to push him a little.

She turned to Bryce. “Of course, I am. We’re friends and friends have each other backs.” She looked back at Harper, “Are you sure it’s okay that I take this much time off?”

“Yes, I’ll make sure someone covers your shifts.”

“I can pick a few up.” Sienna grinned. She had got there about the time Ethan announced Alexandra was his girlfriend.

“See, no need to worry.” Harper said. “Alright everyone back to work.”

Nurses and doctors gave one last glance to Ethan and Alexandra before wondering off. “I’ll find you after shift.” Bryce touched Alexandra’s arm as he walked passed her.

“You’ll need to go shopping.” Ethan tried again. “I’ll cover all expenses.”

“I can afford a few outfits Ethan.”

“Why don’t I take her.” Harper suggested.

Ethan eyed her, trying to figure out her intentions. She looked genuine. He pulled a card out of his wallet and handed it to Alexandra. “Let Harper take you shopping.” Alexandra tried to give him a look that said are you completely crazy. “Take Dr. Trinh with you.” He took the invitation from her to look at the number for the RSVP. He gave it a look of disgust. “You’ll text and tell them you’re RSVPing both us to all the events.”

“How about we meet up after work?” Harper suggested. It was an early shift, so they would be off by six.

“Sure.” Alexandra agreed reluctantly taking the credit card from Ethan. “I’m not using this.”

He raised an eyebrow, “Up to you. I would like to meet up before you leave.”

“Great. Now everyone back to work.” Harper shooed them all off and away from each other.

Ethan caught up with her an empty hallway. “Why are you being so understanding?” He called out after her.

She sighed and rolled her head from side to side before turning around. “I know you don’t get along with your parents. I also know you pretend not to care about your sister, but you do. If Dr. Flynn can help make that bearable for you than so be it. Also, no offense but you and I come from a different background than her. If she’s not up luxury standard people will eat her alive at this thing.”

He still looked suspicious.

She pitched the bridge of her nose. “I won’t lie. I had hoped at some point we might be able to work out, but you look at her a way you never looked at me.” She smiled sadly. “You listen to her more than you listen to anyone. You better get it together though. She’s not going to wait around forever for you to actually makeup your mind. Dr. Lahela is waiting for you to give her the final push away, so he can step in.”

Ethan watched as Harper walked away from him, her heels clicking on the floor. He hadn’t meant to call Alexandra his girlfriend. He hadn’t meant to invite her. How was he going to keep his distance when they would be sharing a hotel for more than one night? He needed to keep his distance. She would go with him and when it was all over run away from him. She would see how messed up his family was. Why would she want him after she truly sees he’s damaged goods?

He stood outside the locker room waiting for her to change after shift had ended. She and Dr. Trinh emerged a few minutes later. They headed for the elevator together. He was thankful as Dr. Trinh walked a good distance in front of them.

“Harper is going to take you to some high-end places, please use my card.”

“I don’t feel comfortable doing that.”

“And I don’t feel comfortable you are paying for stuff for my problem.”

“I’ll think about it.” She said before changing topics. “I got a text confirmation. I didn’t realize that we would be staying outside the city.” She hadn’t noticed the location as she looked through the events. “Anyways I guess we’ll be staying in one room. I hope that’s okay.”

“We’ll make it work.” He said trying to sound indifferent.

“Alex!” Bryce called out as they were about to step in the elevator.

Ethan stepped on but kept his foot in front of the door. She hung back as Bryce caught up to them. “I thought we could grab dinner.” He said looking between her and Ethan.

“I can’t I’m going shopping with Sienna.”

“I can come along. I don’t mind some good old retail therapy.” He grinned.

“I’m sorry.” She touched his shoulder. “I’m not sure I’ll have time to see you before I leave.”

“Before you leave?”

“I’m off tomorrow already but then we leave after Ethan’s shift.”

“All this crap is outside of Boston?”

“It is.”

“I don’t like this Alex.” He whispered. “Dr. Ramsey isn’t a nice guy. I don’t know how he’s got you fooled but he’s not all that you think he is.”

Alexandra glared at him.

“I don’t want you to get taken advantage of.”

“I can take care of myself thank you very much. Also, I think I know him better than you do.” She whispered back. “I’ll see you when I get back Bryce.”

She stepped on to the elevator and Ethan raised an eyebrow in question at her annoyed looked. She shook her head and lopped her arm through his.

“We should practice.” She answered his unasked question.

Shopping with Harper was exhausting and a bit overwhelming. They were shopping with the boss who happened to be Ethan’s ex-girlfriend, luckily, she brought Aurora along. Though they weren’t quite friends, it made things less awkward.

Harper dragged them from one high-end store to the next. Alexandra ended up using Ethan’s card right away not being able to afford any of the places they went. She felt guilty as the charges racked up. They wondered past a Lilly Pulitzer. She had always liked the clothes but could never afford them. Harper had stopped walking watching the young doctor debate about going in. Finally, Harper dragged her in. It wasn’t her kind of store, the colors and patterns were too bright, but she could see Flynn in many of the prints. They matched her bright personality.

The girls sat back while Alexandra made her own way around the store picking up a few pieces here and there. When she was finished, Harper treated them to dinner.

“Does no one else find this a little weird?” Aurora asked sipping her cocktail. “Dr. Ramsey’s ex-girlfriend just helped his pretend girlfriend go shopping so she can impress his family whom he hates.”

Harper shrugged. “I can’t send Dr. Flynn to mad house unprepared.”

“Have met his parents?” Sienna asked before inspecting the oyster appetizer.

“No,” Harper answered. “He didn’t tell me a lot either, but I know that something else happened than just him not following their wishes to become a lawyer like his dad.”

“But you don’t know what?” Alexandra scrunched up her nose at the oyster Harper set on the plate in front of her.

“No clue. Ethan is incredibly private. Today should tell you how much he doesn’t want to be around his parents. For him to allow what happened to happen in public like he did, tells you he really didn’t want to be alone with him. Now try that.” Harper pointed to the oyster.

“Do I have too?”

“Yes, I can guarantee there will be some at some point. If you don’t eat them I already know they’ll look down at you.”

“All because I didn’t eat an oyster?” She picked up the oyster looking at the slimy mess.

“Yes, oysters are a money symbol. Not eating one will let them know you might not be from money.”

“Can’t someone just not like them?”

Harper sighed. “Just eat it.”

Alexandra let it slide off the shell into her mouth and wanted to gag. It was awful. “If it makes you feel better, I don’t like them either.” Ethan’s voice was right beside her, his breath on her ear.

“I told you where we were going for dinner as a curtsy not an invitation.” Harper said annoyed.

He straightened and grabbed a chair from another table. He sat beside Alexandra, “Watch and learn.” He grabbed an oyster and tossed it back into his mouth without so much as a grimace.

“How did you do that?” She said turning her full attention to the man beside her.

“I take it like swallowing a pill. Toss it back as far as you can and swallow.” He placed the empty shell on her plate. She didn’t look like she believed him and reached for her water.

“Why are you here?” Harper asked.

“I had to do some shopping of my own and needed to eat.”

“There’s a Chinese take out place down the street.”

“That’s okay. If I remember correctly this place has good steak.”

Dinner mostly consisted of hospital talk and some about Naveen. “I’ll drive you both home.” Ethan said as they all stood outside waiting for valet.

“Sure.” Alexandra agreed.

“Harper thank you for taking her out.”

“Yes,” Alexandra added. “I really did appreciate the help.”

They moved all her shopping from Harper’s car to Ethan’s. While Ethan did that, Harper pulled her aside. “Listen, I know what people like his family can be like. It’s not going to be easy on either of you. Please call me if you need advice or to talk.”

Alexandra nodded and surprised Harper by pulling her into a hug. “Thank you for everything.” She said truly meaning it.

Ethan raised an eyebrow at Harper as he watched them hug.

“Don’t give up on him like I did. He’s worth the trouble, I just saw that too late.” Harper whispered in to Alexandra’s ear before pulling back.

They shared a look, an understanding.

“Good luck.” Harper said before making her way towards her own car.

Ethan held the passenger door open for Alexandra. She looked up at him before getting in their eyes connecting. She wanted to reach out to him but got in instead.

Alexandra insisted Sienna and her could carry in everything. “I’ll see you after you get off.”

“Mm.” He agreed. He shoved his hands in his pockets to keep from reaching out to touch her face. “I’m hoping to get off early, but we’ll see. I’ll text you when I’m on my way.”

[askthenewhopespeak]

March 3rd, 2020- Departures

Sora Hijirihara is fifteen years old and has a plan. It’s not a great plan, mind you, but this is a plan, and it had been building for a while now. She can’t- she won’t- let this new threat get anywhere close to her family.  And she will fix this world, as much as she can. (Makoto and Gundham were beyond saving, but maybe she could get baby Mitsuru his big sister back) She just has some preparations to do….

first station, the library:

(plan notes: try to finish it before someone notices you, especially alter ego)

-She prints out some things. Some pictures she took, that she hurries to clip together, as an album.

- In a second thought, she prints one more picture. Guilt tripping never harmed anyone… much.

-She writes down her letters. Two of them come out perfectly. The other two… not as much. One of them will suffice, but for the other… Shit, she’ll have to talk to him.

- She steals a pen as she leaves the library. No one would notice.

(well, this is done. What next?)

Second station, Mitsuru’s room:

(plan notes: You can do this. You won’t even cry.) Sora: *She places her hand on Mitsuru’s shoulder as she enters the room. * Mitsi? Can we talk? Mitsuru: Huh? Yeah, sure. *Sora closes the door behind her. * Sora: I’m leaving. And I wanted to say goodbye. Mitsuru: ….huh? Sora: I have found something- something that lets me track Invdia. So I’m leaving, and I’m going to keep our family safe. Mitsuru: …. What the fuck? Sora: I’m going to get your sister back. And I’m going to make sure no one lies a finger on mine. *She closes her eyes. * Please don’t make it harder than it has to be. Mitsuru: No. I’m going to make this as hard as I can. Because this is stupid idea. You don’t have to do this, Sora. You shouldn’t do this! Sora: No one else can! And- and I screwed this place over enough, so I’m going to fix everything I can. Mitsuru: And what about me? You’re just gonna leave me behind? Like my sister? Sora: I don’t want to! But you can’t leave. You have your medicine, and… I don’t want you to see this. I know what might happen and I don’t want you to see melike this. *She burries her face in him. *  I thought about just leaving you a letter, like I’m doing for mom and dad, but I couldn’t find the words- I’m so sorry… Do you hate me, Mitsi? Mitsuru: No. Of course not. I just think you’re being a dumbass right now Sora: I can’t even look at the twins without wanting to cry. I keep thinking about- how if I haven’t got us here, how this place would’ve been better. How I fucked it up for everyone. Mitsuru: Don’t blame yourself for this. You had no idea this was going to happen, and you never wanted it to happen. Guilt makes you do crazy things. Sora: You realize they are going to come after Monaca, right? She never appologized for what she did, so if they get a hold of her history…. And honestly, I’m pretty mad at your sister and doubt she’d stop them. Mitsuru: So instead of hunting them down, on your own, without backup, and without telling anyone else where you’re going, you can stay here and help protect all of us Sora: …’m gonna join them. Put up my best ‘crazy not uncle Shuji ’ act and be by their side. And then, if they try to punch my family…. *her hand is sent to KK, under her skirt. * well, you know what it is with knives and backs. And I will leave a note saying I left! Mitsuru: …. This is a bad plan driven my emotion Sora: Well, one of us is the brain on the group and it’s definatly not me. I’m here to stab things andcry a lot. Sora: …It’s the best plan that I have. And… I really don’t want to stay here. Mitsuru: And what if you don’t come back? Sora: I’m trying to save everyone! I’m four-fifteen years old. And I can’t stay in this school a second longer, and it’s been over two years and I just… what else can I do, Mitsi? Mitsuru: …I dunno. I don’t have all the answers. I just don’t want you to do something stupid Sora: When did you stop having all the answers, Mitsi? Mitsuru: When did I ever? Sora: It always seemed like you had, when we were younger. Mitsuru: You’re gonna take the words of an 8-year-old as solid answers? Sora: When you are an eight year old? Yes, why not? Remember, in that same age everything that came out of Kaede’s mouth was sacred. Mitsuru: You have a lot to learn about the world, my dear Sora Sora: It was seven years ago! I know better now… you know you won’t change my mind, right? Mitsuru: I figured. So there’s no point in arguing, I guess Sora: No, there really isn’t. I’ll go, and I’ll get the baby his sister back, and make sure no one touches my family, and maybe I won’t be surrounded by things that make me freak out. Mitsuru: Or you’ll die without accomplishing anything. That’s not me being morbid. That’s a real possibility. Sora: I have a knife, I’ll be fine. Mitsuru: A knife can’t solve all your problems, you know. They have guns. Sora: …I survived Kaede Naegi, I can survive jerks with guns. Mitsuru: They can gang up on you. They might have bombs. Poison gas. Other horrible things. Sora: …You are being pessimistic. I think you are really forgetting who is which role in our group. Mitsuru: And you’re forgetting these aren’t some dumb jokers. These are real, actual terrorists and murderers. They will not exercise restraint just because you’re a kid. Sora: …I’m trying to, really. Because I can’t- can’t afford to be scared for this. I can’t be weak. Mitsuru: Being scared doesn’t mean you’re weak. Reckless idiots aren’t scared. Sane people are scared. Sora: being either just raises my chance to screw this up. Mitsuru: Fear….fear’s like a double-edged sword. It can keep you from doing something, screw you up, and make you worried about stupid things. But it can also be what motivates you to stay alive, or help someone else. If you’re scared about what’ll happen to someone else if you die, that’s a good reason to keep living. Sora: *she sighs. * Mitsi? How long can you be away from here without, well, dying? Mitsuru: As long as my meds can last me. So not very long Sora: …Well, that solves it, I can’t take you even if I wanted too. *she looks at his eyes. * Mitsi, before I leave? Can I get a birthday kiss? Mitsuru: No. But you can have two. Sora: Sounds fine with me. *She leans forward to kiss him. * Mitsuru: If you die out there, I’ll kill you. Sora: I promise to come once you use an Ouija board. Mitsuru: Good. *he hugs her* I love you. Even if you are a huge jerk. Sora: I love you too, and hi, at least I’m not Kenta. Mitsuru: Hehe, yeah, true …Please come back. Sora: I will. I’ll miss you a lot. Mitsuru: Same here. And if you see Ryouko…tell her that she’s an idiot. And I miss her a lot too.

Sora: I’m gonna give her a picture. *she pulls the picture she printed earlier and the pen.* Maybe write on it something like 'for the best big sister in the world’. Mitsuru: Yeah… *He does so* I hope things go well. Sora: I do too. *she gives him another kiss and then checks her watch.* Well, if you’ll excuse me, my mother is having a baby so it’d be a great time to steal her credit card right now. Mitsuru: You’re pure evil. And somehow, I’m okay with it Sora: Hey, I’d need resources. Like some hair color and a dacktape. I’d rather not be recognized on tv like some other pepole had. Mitsi… whatever it’s worth… I love you. Mitsuru: I love you too. A lot. Even the dumb parts Sora: …I hope so, it’s the most of me. Mitsuru: *He hugs her again* *Sora hugs back* Sora: I know I said I don’t want you, but i really wish you could still come. Don’t watch videos, okay? *She turns to leave. * Mitsuru: Don’t die. Please. Sora: I promised, didn’t I? Mitsuru: …and if you can, give those Invidia guys a nice solid kick to the nuts Sora: …when I’ll stop pretending to likethem. And maybe one to Sly, anyways. Mitsuru: Good. Be smart, Sora. And good luck.

(well, you didn’t change your mind, so… a start?)

Station three, Sora and Kaede’s room:

(plan notes: just do it as quick as possible. Kaede will ask questions if she sees you.)

-Kaede is not in the room, thank hope.

- Sora steals Kaede’s backpack from under the bed, because Kaede isn’t actually using this thing and Sora needs a backpack.

-She packs clothes- especially, she tries, those that are not only red and black, because she has no idea how much Invdia knows of Hope’s peak and she doesn’t want people to actually make the connection.

-It is tempting to forget her tooth brush, but she gets it anyways.

-the letter for Akio and the twins is dropped on Kaede’s bed. Sora pretends she doesn’t feel like crying.

-she picks the rest of the essentials before she leaves towards her parent’s room.

(that went well)

Station four, Naomi and Takumi’s room:

(plan notes: Now to the actual ileagel part of today)

-finding her mother’s wallet isn’t hard. She knows well where the bag is kept, as well as where her mother keeps the note with her PIN on it. (she told Sora once that this was for emergencies. She isn’t sure it counts.)

-No one comes in, obviously. A quick check at her watch confirms the baby is coming, and both Naomi and Takumi would be busy with this.

-She drops the letter for them on the bed. She cries.

(Theft is much easier than one would think)

Station five, Damian’s room:

(plan notes: drop your shitty letter and go already.)

*Sora pushes the door to Damian’s room *

Sora: good, you are here. My letter sucked.

*She enters, closing the door behind her. There is a backpack on her back and she has shoes on. *

Damian looks surprised at the sudden entrance before sliding off his quiver and bow. “Hey Sora. Is something wrong?”

Sora: I just don’t want an adult to hear. Can’t have them stopping me from leaving, can I?

“… Why are you leaving?” Damian asks a bit quietly, sitting down on his bed and focusing all of his attention on her.

Sora: I managed to find a way to track invdia. So I’m going to join and keep them from my family.

“That’s crazy.” Damian says bluntly. “All you have is a knife you don’t know how to use to the best of your abilities. You can’t go by yourself Sora.”

Sora: I can and I will. I’m going to make sure Ryoko comes back, and to make sure they don’t think about my family as targets.

Sora: I can’t stay here, Damian.

“What happened to Jataro and the others… there’s no reason to assume the same will happen to you, Akio, Mitsuru or any of the others. No one knows outside of the school that you’re from the future.”

Sora: My sister has caused a massacre, if you didn’t notice. And she’s also my family. It’s not all about me, believe it or not.

“Monaca…” Damian remembers with a grimace before trying one last thing. “I tried to go after Invidia in an effort to stop them too. What’s the difference between you doing this and myself?”

Sora: … I don’t exist? Well, not for another hour, but no one would be able to make this connection.

Sora: and I don’t know how to tell you this, but you worked for storm.

Damian looks down at that before sighing. “There’s no talking you out of this.” He states rather than ask. “… what do I tell everyone else?”

Sora: Mitsuru knows, and I guess he’ll tell Kaede, Shuuichi and Akio. This *She searches her bag for a second and pulls a folded paper * is for my parents. Give it tommorow, okay? I should be fine by then.

“Alright…” Damian takes the paper before pulling Sora into a hug. “Stay safe okay? I don’t want to lose anyone else.”

Sora: I promise, I will. Mitsi already promised to kill me if I die. *She hugs back * don’t hide in your room, okay? Spend time with Jataro and everyone else.

Damian slowly let’s her go and nods reluctantly. “I’ll do my best. Keep in touch, if anything happens I’ll be there. House arrest or not.”

Sora: write me your number? *She hands him a piece of paper from her bag * and don’t get yourself in trouble.

Damian writes his number down on the paper before giving Sora a slight smile. “No promises.”

Sora: *She smiles back. * Jerk.

Damian sticks his tongue out before giving a slight wave goodbye. “See you around Sora…”

Sora: See you around… Don’t let Mitsi watch if there are videos, okay?

*She leaves. *

(You always thought he was the best uncle ever. Good to know this still holds.)

Station six, the mall:

(plan notes:just get what you need and go.)

-yes, she can use the primitive public transportation. She did it before, with some of the other kids.

-her first stop is at the ATM, where she takes out as much money as she thinks she needs, and hopes she wouldn’t need to use the card again.

- She gets everything she needs and couldn’t get at the school. This includes a prepaid phone, which she immediately texts Damian from, telling him it’s her new number and to call if there’s an emergency at the school.

-The sink at the toilet isn’t great, but it works well enough for the hair color she got. She’ll do it better later, but this should do for now. (she only manages to get the bottom half of her hair, to her dismay)

-Also at the toilet, she wraps black tape over the handle of her knife, making it mostly unrecognizable.

-She grabs her bag tightly with one hand as she puts her sun glasses on. She’s ready to go.

(You hope it works enough to make you unrecognizable at first look)

Sora Hijirihara is fifteen years old and has a plan. It’s not a great plan, mind you, but this is a plan, and it had been building for a while now.

She can’t- she won’t- let this new threat get anywhere close to her family.  And she will fix this world, as much as she can. (Makoto and Gundham were beyond saving, but maybe she could get baby Mitsuru his big sister back)

She just has some preparations to do….

first station, the library:

(plan notes: try to finish it before someone notices you, especially alter ego)

-She prints out some things. Some pictures she took, that she hurries to clip together, as an album.

- In a second thought, she prints one more picture. Guilt tripping never harmed anyone… much.

-She writes down her letters. Two of them come out perfectly. The other two… not as much.

One of them will suffice, but for the other… Shit, she’ll have to talk to him.

- She steals a pen as she leaves the library. No one would notice.

  (well, this is done. What next?)

Second station, Mitsuru’s room:

(plan notes: You can do this. You won’t even cry.)

  Sora: *She places her hand on Mitsuru’s shoulder as she enters the room. * Mitsi? Can we talk?

  Mitsuru: Huh? Yeah, sure.

  *Sora closes the door behind her. *

Sora: I’m leaving. And I wanted to say goodbye.

  Mitsuru: ….huh?

  Sora: I have found something- something that lets me track Invdia. So I’m leaving, and I’m going to keep our family safe.

  Mitsuru: …. What the fuck?

  Sora: I’m going to get your sister back. And I’m going to make sure no one lies a finger on mine. *She closes her eyes. * Please don’t make it harder than it has to be.

  Mitsuru: No. I’m going to make this as hard as I can. Because this is stupid idea. You don’t have to do this, Sora. You shouldn’t do this!

  Sora: No one else can! And- and I screwed this place over enough, so I’m going to fix everything I can.

  Mitsuru: And what about me? You’re just gonna leave me behind? Like my sister?

Sora: I don’t want to! But you can’t leave. You have your medicine, and… I don’t want you to see this. I know what might happen and I don’t want you to see melike this. *She burries her face in him. *  I thought about just leaving you a letter, like I’m doing for mom and dad, but I couldn’t find the words- I’m so sorry… Do you hate me, Mitsi?

  Mitsuru: No. Of course not. I just think you’re being a dumbass right now

  Sora: I can’t even look at the twins without wanting to cry. I keep thinking about- how if I haven’t got us here, how this place would’ve been better. How I fucked it up for everyone.

  Mitsuru: Don’t blame yourself for this. You had no idea this was going to happen, and you never wanted it to happen. Guilt makes you do crazy things.

  Sora: You realize they are going to come after Monaca, right? She never appologized for what she did, so if they get a hold of her history…. And honestly, I’m pretty mad at your sister and doubt she’d stop them.

  Mitsuru: So instead of hunting them down, on your own, without backup, and without telling anyone else where you’re going, you can stay here and help protect all of us

  Sora: …’m gonna join them. Put up my best 'crazy not uncle Shuji ’ act and be by their side. And then, if they try to punch my family…. *her hand is sent to KK, under her skirt. * well, you know what it is with knives and backs. And I will leave a note saying I left!

  Mitsuru: …. This is a bad plan driven my emotion

  Sora: Well, one of us is the brain on the group and it’s definatly not me. I’m here to stab things andcry a lot.

Sora: …It’s the best plan that I have. And… I really don’t want to stay here.

  Mitsuru: And what if you don’t come back?

  Sora: I’m trying to save everyone! I’m four-fifteen years old. And I can’t stay in this school a second longer, and it’s been over two years and I just… what else can I do, Mitsi?

  Mitsuru: …I dunno. I don’t have all the answers. I just don’t want you to do something stupid

  Sora: When did you stop having all the answers, Mitsi?

  Mitsuru: When did I ever?

  Sora: It always seemed like you had, when we were younger.

  Mitsuru: You’re gonna take the words of an 8-year-old as solid answers?

  Sora: When you are an eight year old? Yes, why not? Remember, in that same age everything that came out of Kaede’s mouth was sacred.

  Mitsuru: You have a lot to learn about the world, my dear Sora

  Sora: It was seven years ago! I know better now… you know you won’t change my mind, right?

  Mitsuru: I figured. So there’s no point in arguing, I guess

  Sora: No, there really isn’t. I’ll go, and I’ll get the baby his sister back, and make sure no one touches my family, and maybe I won’t be surrounded by things that make me freak out.

  Mitsuru: Or you’ll die without accomplishing anything. That’s not me being morbid. That’s a real possibility.

  Sora: I have a knife, I’ll be fine.

  Mitsuru: A knife can’t solve all your problems, you know. They have guns.

  Sora: …I survived Kaede Naegi, I can survive jerks with guns.

  Mitsuru: They can gang up on you. They might have bombs. Poison gas. Other horrible things.

  Sora: …You are being pessimistic. I think you are really forgetting who is which role in our group.

  Mitsuru: And you’re forgetting these aren’t some dumb jokers. These are real, actual terrorists and murderers. They will not exercise restraint just because you’re a kid.

  Sora: …I’m trying to, really. Because I can’t- can’t afford to be scared for this. I can’t be weak.

  Mitsuru: Being scared doesn’t mean you’re weak. Reckless idiots aren’t scared. Sane people are scared.

  Sora: being either just raises my chance to screw this up.

  Mitsuru: Fear….fear’s like a double-edged sword. It can keep you from doing something, screw you up, and make you worried about stupid things. But it can also be what motivates you to stay alive, or help someone else. If you’re scared about what’ll happen to someone else if you die, that’s a good reason to keep living.

  Sora: *she sighs. * Mitsi? How long can you be away from here without, well, dying?

  Mitsuru: As long as my meds can last me. So not very long

  Sora: …Well, that solves it, I can’t take you even if I wanted too. *she looks at his eyes. * Mitsi, before I leave? Can I get a birthday kiss?

  Mitsuru: No. But you can have two.

  Sora: Sounds fine with me. *She leans forward to kiss him. *

  Mitsuru: If you die out there, I’ll kill you.

  Sora: I promise to come once you use an Ouija board.

  Mitsuru: Good. *he hugs her* I love you. Even if you are a huge jerk.

  Sora: I love you too, and hi, at least I’m not Kenta.

  Mitsuru: Hehe, yeah, true …Please come back.

  Sora: I will. I’ll miss you a lot.

  Mitsuru: Same here. And if you see Ryouko…tell her that she’s an idiot. And I miss her a lot too.

  Sora: I’m gonna give her a picture. *she pulls the picture she printed earlier and the pen.* Maybe write on it something like 'for the best big sister in the world’.

  Mitsuru: Yeah… *He does so* I hope things go well.

  Sora: I do too. *she gives him another kiss and then checks her watch.* Well, if you’ll excuse me, my mother is having a baby so it’d be a great time to steal her credit card right now.

  Mitsuru: You’re pure evil. And somehow, I’m okay with it

  Sora: Hey, I’d need resources. Like some hair color and a dacktape. I’d rather not be recognized on tv like some other pepole had. Mitsi… whatever it’s worth… I love you.

  Mitsuru: I love you too. A lot. Even the dumb parts

  Sora: …I hope so, it’s the most of me.

  Mitsuru: *He hugs her again*

  *Sora hugs back*

Sora: I know I said I don’t want you, but i really wish you could still come. Don’t watch videos, okay? *She turns to leave. *

  Mitsuru: Don’t die. Please.

  Sora: I promised, didn’t I?

  Mitsuru: …and if you can, give those Invidia guys a nice solid kick to the nuts

  Sora: …when I’ll stop pretending to likethem. And maybe one to Sly, anyways.

  Mitsuru: Good. Be smart, Sora. And good luck.

(well, you didn’t change your mind, so… a start?)

Station three, Sora and Kaede’s room:

(plan notes: just do it as quick as possible. Kaede will ask questions if she sees you.)

-Kaede is not in the room, thank hope.

- Sora steals Kaede’s backpack from under the bed, because Kaede isn’t actually using this thing and Sora needs a backpack.

-She packs clothes- especially, she tries, those that are not only red and black, because she has no idea how much Invdia knows of Hope’s peak and she doesn’t want people to actually make the connection.

-It is tempting to forget her tooth brush, but she gets it anyways.

-the letter for Akio and the twins is dropped on Kaede’s bed. Sora pretends she doesn’t feel like crying.

-she picks the rest of the essentials before she leaves towards her parent’s room.

(that went well)

Station four, Naomi and Takumi’s room:

(plan notes: Now to the actual ileagel part of today)

-finding her mother’s wallet isn’t hard. She knows well where the bag is kept, as well as where her mother keeps the note with her PIN on it. (she told Sora once that this was for emergencies. She isn’t sure it counts.)

-No one comes in, obviously. A quick check at her watch confirms the baby is coming, and both Naomi and Takumi would be busy with this.

-She drops the letter for them on the bed. She cries.

(Theft is much easier than one would think)

Station five, Damian’s room:

(plan notes: drop your shitty letter and go already.)

*Sora pushes the door to Damian’s room *

Sora: good, you are here. My letter sucked.

*She enters, closing the door behind her. There is a backpack on her back and she has shoes on. *

Damian looks surprised at the sudden entrance before sliding off his quiver and bow. “Hey Sora. Is something wrong?”

Sora: I just don’t want an adult to hear. Can’t have them stopping me from leaving, can I?

“… Why are you leaving?” Damian asks a bit quietly, sitting down on his bed and focusing all of his attention on her.

Sora: I managed to find a way to track invdia. So I’m going to join and keep them from my family.

“That’s crazy.” Damian says bluntly. “All you have is a knife you don’t know how to use to the best of your abilities. You can’t go by yourself Sora.”

Sora: I can and I will. I’m going to make sure Ryoko comes back, and to make sure they don’t think about my family as targets.

Sora: I can’t stay here, Damian.

“What happened to Jataro and the others… there’s no reason to assume the same will happen to you, Akio, Mitsuru or any of the others. No one knows outside of the school that you’re from the future.”

Sora: My sister has caused a massacre, if you didn’t notice. And she’s also my family. It’s not all about me, believe it or not.

“Monaca…” Damian remembers with a grimace before trying one last thing. “I tried to go after Invidia in an effort to stop them too. What’s the difference between you doing this and myself?”

Sora: … I don’t exist? Well, not for another hour, but no one would be able to make this connection.

Sora: and I don’t know how to tell you this, but you worked for storm.

Damian looks down at that before sighing. “There’s no talking you out of this.” He states rather than ask. “… what do I tell everyone else?”

Sora: Mitsuru knows, and I guess he’ll tell Kaede, Shuuichi and Akio. This *She searches her bag for a second and pulls a folded paper * is for my parents. Give it tommorow, okay? I should be fine by then.

“Alright…” Damian takes the paper before pulling Sora into a hug. “Stay safe okay? I don’t want to lose anyone else.”

Sora: I promise, I will. Mitsi already promised to kill me if I die. *She hugs back * don’t hide in your room, okay? Spend time with Jataro and everyone else.

Damian slowly let’s her go and nods reluctantly. “I’ll do my best. Keep in touch, if anything happens I’ll be there. House arrest or not.”

Sora: write me your number? *She hands him a piece of paper from her bag * and don’t get yourself in trouble.

Damian writes his number down on the paper before giving Sora a slight smile. “No promises.”

Sora: *She smiles back. * Jerk.

Damian sticks his tongue out before giving a slight wave goodbye. “See you around Sora…”

Sora: See you around… Don’t let Mitsi watch if there are videos, okay?

*She leaves. *

(You always thought he was the best uncle ever. Good to know this still holds.)

Station six, the mall:

(plan notes:just get what you need and go.)

-yes, she can use the primitive public transportation. She did it before, with some of the other kids.

-her first stop is at the ATM, where she takes out as much money as she thinks she needs, and hopes she wouldn’t need to use the card again.

- She gets everything she needs and couldn’t get at the school. This includes a prepaid phone, which she immediately texts Damian from, telling him it’s her new number and to call if there’s an emergency at the school.

-The sink at the toilet isn’t great, but it works well enough for the hair color she got. She’ll do it better later, but this should do for now. (she only manages to get the bottom half of her hair, to her dismay)

-Also at the toilet, she wraps black tape over the handle of her knife, making it mostly unrecognizable.

-She grabs her bag tightly with one hand as she puts her sun glasses on. She’s ready to go.

(You hope it works enough to make you unrecognizable at first look)

[ladyyatexel]

So I don't know if you guys remember the last time that I decided just to do a stream-of-consciousness chatting in my voice to text box while I was sitting in traffic, but that's what we're going to do again today. Because it's funny, every time I leave the house kind of late I end up with traffic that's like a little more active than usual but I managed to squeeze into the parking lot right around the time that I need to be there. Except today, I'm thinking okay I feel like garbage but I'm going to try 2 be at work a little earlier and look responsible or some shit. So since I'm doing this you can imagine the. Has not gone as planned. I'm sitting in even worse traffic than usual despite leaving considerably earlier. There is some kind of holy sweet spot for traffic that I have not yet found at least not for this season. Because, the traffic patterns change dramatically depending on what the weather looks like. This sounds like it should make sense like people drive worse when it's actively storming or something like that. But it's actually just like as soon as it gets colder there's 200 on my route to work. I don't know why this is but it makes my already seasonal efukt brain less happy. I apologize that this wall of text I've been able to figure out for the most part, and last night I even figured out that you can vocally enter emojis, which blows my fucking mind for some reason. I do not however know how to get it to make a

Okay so saying the word new and then the word paragraph turned off the voice thing and acted like it was thinking about getting me another line so that's pretty funny, luckily I'm sitting in traffic so I could reach over and press the button again. I didn't actually want to make a new space right there but whatever this is what we've got. Already having so much trouble waking up in the morning and it's not even completely dark. I should be getting up earlier than I am but it's a struggle just to do what I'm doing right now. I have definitely just rolled out of bed in the shirt and sports bra that I slept in threw on some pants and a sweater and gone to work a few times in the last week and a half. I'm wearing a sports bar right now. I can't stop coughing in the mornings I always sounds like I'm the first carrier of the new bubonic plague and then it just like goes away by 10:30 or so but I wish that this thing could pick up coffin somehow and relate to you how often I'm doing it throughout this. I look over at it occasionally and I can see that it's already made some very interesting word choices but my last one was a lot more interesting in terms of what the fuck does that say

I just passed a car that is always parked on the side of the road when I'm on my way in except today they had a new sticker on their back window that said in loving memory of someone with an end date of 2018 so that was certainly something. There's usually well not usually but frequently enough that I recognize it a truck that is parked on my route home that has a sticker on its window with the word sleep in like a no-smoking circle. And there's another sticker to with a similar Johnny 5 and I can never remember it until I see it and everytime I think hey I got to go home and tell the internet about that they're really going to appreciate it but I never remember because like the moment I enter my door the day is gone you know? Like yesterday, my supervisor asked me about something that I did on Thursday of last week and I don't know if she legitimately expect me to remember the names of all of the people that I deal with, but I especially am not going to remember it after a weekend and a Friday that I left sick. Unless the case was really interesting or really unique or something no I don't remember these people I just do the thing I'm supposed to do and ship it off to where it's supposed to go that's literally it. I also just passed some people who were pulled over by the police, so maybe that's what made traffic extra funky today feel like I've been seeing a lot of police

I guess I do this because sometimes I just need to feel like I'm talking to someone and my situation lately has his left things uncomfortable in that regard like I feel as though I am being a bother more so than usual because I just kind of have bad things going on and the people that I usually go to to help me with the bad things also have bad things so I feel a bit like I'm running out of outlets.

I also feel like I have been working so hard on so many things lately trying 2 make my life better buy some marginal Shred and it either goes unrecognized or ends up meaning nothing. Like I finally got that stupid wage garnishment off of my paycheck and then my right. Increased and yeah the paycheck will still result in me having more but it feels like I lately have been taking steps to do things better and what I'm getting in return is excuses for people to their for take more from me. About here buddy that was me talking to the construction guy who was waving at me to go on a different Road when I wasn't even going onto his Road

But really lately it does feel like I just make progress and step forward so that someone can say oh good she can handle more abuse, you know? Hey she makes more money now that's great that means we can take more from her. Hey we know that she's an adult and tries to do things rationally and shit and has really been working on communication and other kinds of therapy bullshit so it's okay to let other people mistreat her for a while because she can take it.

Dang she sure is really fast at work let's make sure we give her all of the work that has an extreme time limit. Her anxiety disorder will definitely not short out her brain when she sees all these emergencies in her inbox and force her to do nothing but hide in the bathroom for 20 minutes.

I did a lot of scary things and put a serious dent in my financial stability in order to rehabilitate this dumb student loan and attempted to improve my credit score, and while that has removed the garnishing my wages like I said my rent immediately went up so it feels kind of like that did nothing and I feel like the higher credit score has only increased the amount of garbage I get in the mail telling me to sign up for more credit cards. Like all I really did was make myself look more attractive two people who want to take advantage of me.

Last year I tried to fix my uterus after bleeding constantly for 3 months and that was a complete shitshow and I feel like I have gotten only slightly above middling results with that treatment

Considering that I tried to slice my own arms apart with my fingernails last week not terribly sure the antidepressants are working either

Like oh you want to take meds for this great let's make it worse and have you attempt suicide at work, you know?

Therapy, you say? Yeah, you barely fit in the schedule and can't afford to go as often as you need to now. Congrats, dumbass.

I feel like my good efforts are mostly being punished, that's the moral of the story.

[irndad]

the ring- b.b.

title: the ring

ship: bucky barnes x reader

wc: ~3.1k

a/n: okAY HELLO! i wrote this and it’s. stressful af and i love this fic so much. lowkey wrote this for @smokeandmirrorscloakanddagger

summary: i literally dont even know its long and pretty and i tried hard and its really angst and also cute shit. ITALICS ARE DREAMS SCENES

masterlist

In the year 2018, in a body that hasn’t aged since the 40’s, James Buchanan Barnes finds himself hypnotized once again by time, which has again been stolen from him.

Bucky wakes with a woman’s hand around his hand, fingers tracing up the length of his palm, tearful gaze pointed at his chest and evidence of tears on her lovely face.

God, maybe it’s because it’s hazy, but he swears she’s the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen in all his life. When she leans over him, concern etched in her features, she looks like the kind of tragedy geniuses spend years trying to put into words.

“Hello?” He rasped, and that is when he got a good look at the eyes that belonged to the pretty girl by his bed, as they blew wide to look at him. And her grin, spread wide across her face, that was the stuff of salvation.

“Hey, soldier.” She smiles, looking at him with such adoration that he feels guilty for not being able to return the intensity of the gaze. Even still, she looks like something out of a dream, her smile so gorgeous on him, and he almost manages a smile back.

She helps him sit up, and he gets the feeling he’s supposed to know who she is, can see it in the way she runs her thumb over his, hands clasped to his like he’s her tether to the world.

He’s not used to being people’s light, their hope.

The last thing he remembers is sitting in a room with Wanda and Steve, playing cards, managing to keep their minds off of the way the Avengers are split.

But it all seems to end at once, her hand pulling away so abruptly, he wonders if he’s done something to make think of him the way everyone else does, wonders if she’s just remembered who the he is.

“Shit, Bucky, Banner said you won’t remember much, I’m so sorry I shouldn’t have-“

“Banner?” He questions, mainly to cut her off so this beautiful stranger doesn’t have to have that tone of worry buried in her loving tone.

“You don’t know who Banner is?”

She rushes out of the room then, not before pressing a kiss to his forehead, lingering and hard.

The hand he held had a ring on, as well.

_____________________________

The girl with the ring had a pretty name, and apparently he had learned it a year and a half ago.

It had been a year and a half since the last thing he could remember, which he has a hard time wrapping his mind around, and he hates it, hates how he can’t remember anything again.

It turns out Wanda is why, on a mission infiltrating a Hydra base she’d thrown some of her magic, which always had been very specific in it’s course, had faltered and hit him, square in the head.

And apparently, it had made him forget the last year and a half.

The updates from this year from everyone seem to be shocking, moreso than he ever could’ve expected. For one, Tony stark and him happen to be a type of friends, having moved past what he’d done, Stark helping him regain consciousness and his memories, Bucky living in the Avengers facility as one of them.

It all sounds too good to be true, when (Y/N) sits down and explains it to him, her voice crooning and lovingly soft, in a way that her somehow finds familiar, although he’s sure he’d know if he’d heard something so sweet before.

It’s too good to be true that things worked out for him, that they worked out well enough o have something of a place to come home to.

“You have a family,” the beautiful face he’d awoken to had said that night, looking at him with the most earnest expression he’d ever seen, as if she’d read her thoughts with a once over, “You have a home here. With us.”

_____________________________

As it turns out, Banner is the Hulk, and he was another one of Bucky’s friends. He apparently had been very social this last year and change.

This will fade, according to Bruce. He will come back to himself, the one who knows and loves these people. He will get his memories back.

Two months in, (Y/N) is all he has, really.

She sits with him. She takes care of him. She makes sure he eats, takes his meds, plays board games with him and watches Netflix with him so he’ll never have a bored minute.

She does all of this while looking as close to heaven as a person can get, with a laugh that sounds like a breeze and a face he could spend forever trying to memorize and still never get it quite right.

The ring.

The band itself is small, but the rock’s big, and he knows that whoever gave it to her probably was some man with much more money than Bucky, with much more everything than Bucky, and he knew every time that he looked at it that he had no business looking at her the way he was.

She was awfully hard to pull his gaze from, though.

There was a symbol right there on her hand that her heart belonged to someone else, and there he was, falling in love with it anyway.

This evening, she’s wearing a maroon top and nightie shorts and her eyes are drowsy, with fingers wrapped around a cup of tea (she’d taught him how to make it the way she likes it, it strikes him how familiar the motions feel.)

“Oh, Bruce told me to tell you you’re gonna experience some memories as dreams.” She says it offhandedly, before spooning a bit of ice cream into her mouth.

He feels his mouth go dry, thinking of having to remember meeting the love of her life, watching that gorgeous smile curl around someone else’s gaze. Maybe he was able to cope then, but he fell in love with her, now and surely then, and reliving the man who was ten times better for her, well.

It might kill him, quite honestly.

That night, he dreams the prettiest thing.

_____________________________

“I’m (Y/N).”  The girl said, her hands outstretched and smile bright, Tony behind her, slightly uncomfortable around Bucky. She’s a family friend of the Stark’s, although much younger than Tony, still close and loving to him.

Bucky tries not to stare, but it’s hard; he’s never met someone like her before. She looks too lovely for the world to have conjured up on it’s own.

If he believed in that sort of thing, he’d say a higher power had a hand in her radiating that warmth he feels in the pit of his stomach, wrapping around him like a bow.

“I’ve heard your name is James?”

“Bucky. Call me Bucky.” He even manages to return her smile.

_____________________________

The next morning, she has a cup of coffee on the counter, and she’s sitting on the counter, a smile on her pretty mouth, and he feels the swing in his chest when she says his name.

“Buck! Come on, I made you coffee and I figured we could try and read your favorite book together.”

She holds up a copy of it, and explains how they used to read it together when he couldn’t sleep, and she’d fallen in love with the story as well.

She’s such an amazing friend, he notes, smiling back at her and admiring her, sitting on the counter like she knows Tony will have her head for doing so.

“Sounds great, doll.”

She freezes at the pet name.

It’s a millisecond, really, but he notices it because he’s attuned to her, and what was he thinking? She is not his girlfriend, not even close and never would be. She’s not his doll or his girl, and most likely her being here was a result of her charity, not of her affection towards him.

God, he feels so stupid.

Like he’s 15 again, a dumb kid with a crush on a girl he will never be with. He’s not dumb enough to believe it, and he’s an idiot.

There’s a ring on her finger, and that’s only one of the thousands of reasons why loving her is ill-fated.

_____________________________

“You’re so pretty,” he heard her crooning voice, and his chuckle follows. She’s tired and a little loopy but there’s unmistakable love in her eyes, her fingers trailing up and down his chest, and he adores the feeling of it, her soft fingers running across his skin.

“You’re exhausted,” he murmured, lips pressed to the bare skin of her shoulder, her heart beat almost syncing with his.

“Mm,” she hums again, her voice soft with drowsiness and affection.

It’s a kind of warmth he’s never felt, not in the 40’s and never here, never in this world that chased him down the moment he realized where he was.

“Let’s get you to bed, doll.” She looks like a vision in a party dress, glittery and green with bracelets around her wrist, with color on her lips.

Rouge? That’s what his mother had called it, in her cupboard in the bathroom.

She lets him carry her to bed, smiling up at him like he’s the sun and she’s the moon, and she’d spend forever in his orbit if he let her.

He’s never, ever been looked at like that.

She pulls up her head to meet his lips, then falls asleep quite promptly, her curled hair stretched like a halo behind her.

She is quite like an angel.

_____________________________

Wish fulfillment. He thinks that’s what the doctor called it, when he had dreams about things he wish he could have. It seems to happen more often these days, and he has to differentiate what’s real and what is just something he wishes he could have.

He knows the dreams about her felt vivid, but it can’t have been real- she’s got a ring on her finger he could never afford, and a heart that could never love someone like him.

He’s seen the way she speaks to the agent on top of Bucky’s recovery. And he knows it’s awful of him to hate the guy, to loathe the sight of him but he can’t help but connect the dots of the ring on her finger to the hug she gives him on his way out.

“Who was that?” He hears himself ask. He doesn’t want to know.

“Agent Mackenzie. He’s been a lifesaver with your case, ba-“ She swallows hard, “Bucky.”

Together, they go through photos of them together. Hoping to jog something.

Bucky had thought he must’ve been in love with her before, and these photos- he must have been doing a great job hiding it, because they just look joyful in most of them.

One sticks out, though.

Her eyes are clenched shut, starburst crinkles by her eyes and there he is, giving her that look- like she hung the moon in the sky and he’d placed all the stars in the sky to see that pretty laugh.

He obviously hadn’t been subtle.

_____________________________

The mission is over. He’s home, at the compound and he’s safe, his home steps away and Bucky has never really been intrigued by cliches.

The movie scene picturesque moment of a girl running into the returning soldier- it never really struck him as something he needed to feel in his life. Wasn’t really on his bucket list.

But there she was, smiling and running into him in a way that was anything but pretty, his arms wrapping her up, her head in the crook of his neck. Her holding onto him like he’s some sort of miracle.

Which is funny, because that’s exactly what she is to him.

“‘M home, doll.” He says, joy laced in every word he speaks, his tone breathy and her lips are on his cheek and he feels like something higher has given him some sort of gift.

“You do that again, I’ll kill you myself. Don’t have to wait for Hydra.” She mumbles into his neck, not allowing for either of them to move, which is just fine, if you ask him.

“Noted, sweet girl.”

He kisses her then, and he’s never seen anything so cliche as her hand on his cheek and her body tethered to his.

He loves it, and her.

_____________________________

It can’t be real.

He’s not that lucky.

She doesn’t have her tea with him that morning, she’s busy working on his recovery plan.

He wonders is Agent Mackenzie will be there.

He doesn’t want to know.

It’s three months in, when Bucky’s awaiting what should be an immediate memory retrieval. In full. One day, Banner had said, he will wake up and know everything.

He can’t wait.

_____________________________

Tony and him are having dinner, and Bucky is laughing at one of his jokes, which happen to be very funny. He never knew Stark’s kid would turn out to be such a jokester.

“So, when you popping the question?” He hears Tony say, sincerity in his tone although jovial.

“Huh?”

“You know, gettin’ tied down. Well, I mean, I don’t know if you’re into that sort of stuff. No judgment. Consent and the like.”

“One of these days I’m gonna punch you, Stark.”

“I’m adorable!” Tony laughed, before he resettles on the topic at hand, “(Y/N). You gonna marry her?”

“I, uh,” he pauses. This is something he hates about himself, how unsure he sounds in this sense. Of course, he wants to marry her. She’s the best thing that's ever happened to him. She’s the thing that makes all the pain he’s been through worth it.

The issue is, though, is he can’t.

He can’t afford a ring. At least one she would deserve.

“You know those rings, I’m not sitting on a wad of cash.” Tony looks at him like he’s a dumbass and maybe he is, feeling his pointed gaze.

“Dude.”

It’s stupid, it’s stupid but he wants to make her happy and give her the life she deserves, especially if he becomes her husband.

“I know, but I’m saving up-“

“Don’t be stupid. I’ll float you some cash. Call it an engagement gift.” Tony says it before popping a cherry in his mouth and the words sit in the air, his generosity said like it was nothing when it was everything.

“You don’t-“

“I have known (Y/N) her whole life, Buck,” Tony says, eyes surprisingly genuine. “She was fine before you, but…” Tony takes a sip of his drink, before looking at him again, “But when she met you, it’s like she became a new woman. She’s family and if you’re the key to her smiling like that every day, then I’ll get you the biggest ring in the world, kid.”

Buck freezes, a side of Tony he’s never seen. He doesn’t know how to say thank you, doesn’t know how to say he loves her and he can’t believe they’ve come this far.

They take a shot of whiskey Tony loves and Bucky hates, before Bucky’s grin says everything.

“You hurt her I’ll kill you, without the suit.”

_____________________________

He wakes in a cold sweat in the middle of the night.

He falls asleep before he can really think about what he remembered.

_____________________________

“Baby,” he hears himself say, a catch in his throat. God, she’s so beautiful, looking up at him through teary lashes and he could spend forever with her. In fact, that’s what he’s asking.

He’s done it at a party Tony had thrown for “no reason” and there she is, in that same damn green dress, fingers clutching a glass of champagne she’s barely drank from, her sweet smile on her pretty, gorgeous.

“I love you. I mean, obviously. I know you know that, but god it’s like I can feel it on everything I do, like it follows me everywhere I go. And I know I’m an old man with not a whole lot-don’t interrupt me baby, please- but when I met you, it’s like everything I’ve been through, it was all worth it.”

The fall, the soldier he never wanted to be, the life he’d never had a choice in leaving behind- he’d do it all again.

He’s holding a beautiful ring in one hand, looking up at her, isn’t that something? He’s always looking up at her. Fitting. She’s an angel, after all.

“I’d do it again, doll. I’d do it a million times over if it meant I’d get to be with you. And that’s all I’m asking, I suppose. That you have an old man’s heart and I’m beggin’ you to take care of it as long as we live.

“So will you-“

She’s kissing him, smiling up into it, nodding fervent, and is she crying? She’s crying, so fucking beautiful when she cries and when she laughs and when she does any goddamn thing.

“Of course, Bucky. You never even had to ask.”

_____________________________

He wakes up and he.

He remembers.

Remembers when he met her, remembers falling in love with her, who he is, and how lucky he is that she loves him back.

He runs out of his room, and it must be something like 3 in the morning when he sees her, sleepless in the kitchen, kept away from the love of her life.

That ache he’s felt, away from his soulmate- she’s had it too.

“Doll,” he says, and her head whips to him, eyes blown wide and looking at him with astonishment and hope.

Hope that he’d come back to her.

“I remember. I remember everything.”

Then she’s wrapped around him again, like two tree roots melded together and he’s never felt such grace as her being around him. He’s going to spend forever loving her.

“I wasn’t allowed to tell you,” she says, muffled into his tank, “Said it would make it quicker if you organically got your memories back.”

“Sweet girl, I could never be mad at you.” All the nights spent without him, all the days thinking he didn’t remember how to love her.

She kisses him, soft and slow.

“For the record,” he says, smiling lighting up at her like a beacon, “I loved you every moment.”

@frecklesholland @heckin-good-holland  @afoxwonderland@radicalstars @once-upon-a-walking-wolf-demigod@thecreativeangel@barnesvogue@nedthegay@nevaehsuga @the-girl-with-no-plan@llotrr@uglygirlkk@macfullyloaded17@dianileesawsomeness@readixgkodie615@blamebangtan@emgrace728@nedslaptop@dangerousluv1@midtownsparker @loverboy-holland @princeofsassgard@rareunicorntris912 @sammy-holland@livingoffsavvyillusions @painterwithhope@spiderboytotherescue@yoitsnotkim

@pandartist

@vampireloveandfun @gracethegeek9902 @spectacularspiderman58 @not-reptilian   @ashleyhearto@thehollandcommittee @holtzmannnd@tmrhollandkay

[agapeeternal]

I’m

Chester Bennington’s suicide has made me think a lot about my own attempts in the past.

Like a lot of people who gravitated to Linkin Park, and Chester in particular, I suffered from undiagnosed depression and suicidal ideation as a child. I had abuse in my childhood from a family member (though not to Chester’s degree). I never told anyone, because I was scared no one would believe me, so I held it in.

School was a hell I had to endure every day until the middle of 8th grade, when my depression spiraled. Years of bullying and not understanding why things were so hard for me study wise, I lost it. That was my first serious suicide attempt. I took a whole bottle of prescription strength ibuprofen and waited. I’m not sure if I passed out or if I just fell asleep, but I woke up and projectile vomited all over my bed. I didn’t feel that shame or the thankfulness that I had survived. I was pissed. I was pissed because not only did this not work, but now I had to completely strip my bed and throw everything into the tub until I could put it in the washer later. I ended up staying home from school that day, I mean, I was “sick”. It took an assembly about bullying and mental illness that happened at our school, a skit performed by a traveling anti-bullying project, to admit to my parents that I was depressed. But there was nothing I could do about it. I didn’t think at the time.

My depression didn’t get any better, it just got worse. Some odd happenings went on in school which included an absolutely outrageous suspension and a teacher who hated the shit out of me because she got caught in a lie. And that was the point that I left public school and went into independent study. I actually loved it; for once school wasn’t hell, it was just challenging. But the help I got there as well as the help I got from my family, it worked great. Sure, I still had to do summer school every year, but it wasn’t that bad. I thought, “I can do this now, I’m ready.” So, I tried high school, but three months later I was back in independent study.

I thought I was prepared to handle the demands of a 6 period day, and maybe actually make friend’s, or at least catch up with the people I had hung out with since first grade. But I wasn’t. The reaction I got after returning was less like “girl where have you been?! We kinda missed you.” and was more like “oh you’re back? Wow. Okay. Hi. I guess.” That combined with the depression that never really left, and how exhausting going to class was, I couldn’t do it. I failed at trying to come back and experience high school. People who I had known called a few times, offering to take me to football games or other things, since being in independent study allowed me to have a parent school and all activities and classes were open to me. But somehow they neglected to tell me that they couldn’t go or changed plans until minutes before the events happened. And those were the times I wished I hadn’t survived. I hated feeling disposable, I hated feeling like no one cared about me. And they didn’t. I meant absolutely nothing to them, at least nothing more than birthday cupcakes and valentines cards and field trips when we were in grade school that my mom would help give kids that couldn’t afford it. But after grade school, I wasn’t worth anything, and it stung. But I tried to shove that down, along with everything else, and just concentrate on school. I managed to graduate on time with a 4.0 and walk with my class. It was bittersweet, but at least that was done.

All that was okay, I even managed to hold a job until after I graduated. I took a semester off and when I started college, things went sideways on me, as it usually does when mental illness rears its ugly head, and that led, eventually, to more self-harm and finally, to therapy. By the end of my first semester, I realized I couldn’t do this anymore, without help. It was hard to say, “look, I can’t handle this anymore. I can’t do this on my own, I’m crumbling.” But I did. When I made my first appointment, I didn’t experience the embarrassment at first, that came later. I was like, “fuck it, it’s either this or…it’s this.” I saw my first psychiatrist and after a couple of meetings, he dropped the bomb I was hoping to hear; a diagnosis.

I was bipolar. II to be exact.

After all these years, it had a name. Bipolar Disorder. It was scary but also a big relief, to know that all that inner turmoil I was going through wasn’t just my imagination, it was REAL.

It turns out, all this time, I had been exhibiting symptoms, even as a child. It all made sense, all the ups and downs and tantrums then crying spells, all the trouble concentrating and daydreaming in school. Everything clicked. And now I had to figure out what the fuck to do with this.

I started medication and went through every possible cocktail. I lost my first two psychiatrists to retirement and went through one therapist. Somewhere in there, a breakup happened that disturbed both the process and my recovery, and I went through another therapist until I found my current one. They say you should click with a therapist, that, even though it isn’t easy, that your relationship should help you work through whatever you need to work on. Easier said than done, but I’m more than happy with her.

I was still feeling the depression more than the hypomania, that visited every once in a while, the mixed episodes that visited far too often. But I was doing okay. My baseline wasn’t great, but I knew where it was, and I was doing as well as I usually did. Until everything went sideways again. In late 2015, I went through a horrible breakup. It was messy and painful and I lost it. Again. My therapist had suggested group therapy for me for years, but I didn’t like the idea of having to talk to a room full of strangers. But I finally went to group, and later, to IOP. The little bit of work I had been doing seemed to slide completely backwards. I was actively suicidal, and I tried.

I literally couldn’t take it anymore. I was so depressed and dealing with the breakup combined with other messy things going on and my down cycle, it just snowballed. I didn’t want to die, I don’t think most people to commit suicide do. I wanted to end all the pain and depression and just be able to BREATHE. I wanted to get away from my own head. So I took a mix of my meds and just passed out. It left me mostly drugged out but semi-conscious, hardly able to do anything other than just lay there. I couldn’t walk in a straight line if you paid me. But I was alive. Fortunately, or unfortunately. I was still around.

So when does Linkin Park come in? 7th grade. I saw “One Step Closer” on CMC (California Music Channel) before MTV or VH1 had picked them up. The DJ was a friend of a friend of Mike’s I believe, and played it even though CMC was mostly–almost entirely–hip-hop and r&b. At that time, the only thing outside of hip-hop and r&b that I was listening to was pop music that was playing everywhere else. Papa Roach slipped into the mix shortly, but that was it. Linkin Park wasn’t something I would’ve been interested in. At all. But I didn’t change the channel, I just watched that ridiculous video, and as weird as it was, I found myself really hearing the lyrics. I liked them. They were different.

Then ‘Crawling” and “In The End” came out, and I had never connected with lyrics on that level. Even though I was only 12-13, they still hit home. Hard. I didn’t know how to address what happened to me when I was younger, I still hadn’t told anyone. It haunted me, especially having to see the person. It was only once in a while, but it brought everything back like a freight train. Dealing with that and the painful reality of not having friends, of being constantly bullied, I was confused and hurt. I felt like I didn’t have a voice.

But “Crawling” became my voice. I knew what it felt like to literally be crawling in your skin, to hate seeing your reflection, to despise everything. I felt the endless discomfort and insecurity that was all consuming. Every single line in that song, I felt.

Linkin Park became the outlet I needed. I needed to be heard, I needed to be understood. I needed someone to LISTEN. But I didn’t have to explain anything, everything was there for me, in black and white. I saw my feelings, I saw what I needed. I saw it all. And I was grateful.

Unfortunately, I lost touch with them for a while. Somewhere after Meteora, I strayed. There was no reason other than new songs and artists came out and my musical interests shifted some. But when I found myself in a hole, they were there. They were always there.

In 2017, my musical taste still hadn’t shifted back to them, not completely. I hadn’t heard most of their recent things. But I got into Kiiara. And when I watched her video for “Gold”, on the side it recommended a Facebook live with Linkin Park and Kiiara which threw me a bit. That didn’t seem like a combination that would go well together. But I also saw the video for “Heavy” and I clicked on it. It was hard to watch and I cried the whole time, because 2017 had, up to that point, fucking sucked (and would, inevitably end up being one of the worst years of my life). My head was a mess, everything was heavy, and I wanted to let go. The paranoia and heaviness was everything I was feeling. Once again, they became my voice, and I fell back into them for a bit before drifting away again. I still held onto “Heavy”.

On July 20, 2017, I was packing for my family reunion. I saw that “Talking To Myself” had gone up and watched it, dancing to it as I tried to remember everything I needed with me.

A few hours later my mom called me into her room and asked if I remembered Linkin Park. Of course I did. Then she dropped my worst fear; Chester was gone.

I couldn’t speak for a minute. It literally felt like someone had punched a hole in me. I felt that in my soul, like something was ripped away from me. It was like I lost my breathe (and still haven’t caught it). Chester had brought me so much comfort and peace. He had helped me through times when I was actively suicidal. He helped me when I just needed to put words to my feelings. He did that. He made everything less heavy and helped soothe the hurt. Without him, I don’t know if I would be here, I truly don’t.

I immediately downloaded the new album and listened to it, crying the entire time. The person who had been my voice for so long was suddenly silenced. There was hurt and pain in listening to the music, but at the same time, it was strange comfort. Because, even though he wasn’t here, he would always be.

There was never anger on my side. I understood that feeling, I understood how being in that moment was. It’s horrible. But there was a strange sense of pride. A pride in that he was still here, he made it as far as he did. Most people would’ve completely given up years ago. But he kept going, he kept finding a way. A lot of it was obviously the support system he had, but a lot of it was support that we didn’t see.

We didn’t see every aspect of his life, but what we did see was someone who was both strong and vulnerable, someone who kept going, even when he didn’t want too. He didn’t give up. He was going to fuse his armor back together, he was going to pick himself up if he fell. And he did, he picked himself up until he couldn’t. We’ll never know what happened, what that final catalyst was, what those last moments were like. All we know is that our hearts are a little heavier and the world a little dimmer without him.

There’s now a tattoo on my arm of the Suicide prevention ribbon, and at the bottom are the flames that Chester had on his wrists, along with the words “One More Light”. It’s both to honor and remember Chester, but also to acknowledge my own struggles and remind myself to keep going, to remind myself that my journey isn’t over, that I still have growing and changing to do. It’s hard, when mental illness is there to tell you “NO”, to try and keep you from living, to keep you from enjoying life until you think you only have one choice. But I can’t do that. I owe it to myself and to Chester to keep trying. To hear my Battle Symphony, to not give up, fuse my armor back together and pick myself up.

You’ll always be missed and always be loved Chester. I hope you’ve found the peace you’ve always deserved.

(This is my journey. It’s not over, not by a long shot. I’m still growing and changing, I’m still trying to figure everything out. I have a lot of work to do, but I’m trying, and that’s all I can do.)

[reesebird]

New Post has been published on https://reesebird.com/2019/08/13/meeting-family/

Meeting family?

I apologise in advance this is long and complicated TW (mental abuse/alleged sexual abuse/physical attack) (Note: I am currently 29 years old)

My mother has always been a single mother. I am repeatedly told by her and her friends how she gave up her job and life and everything for me. She never ever ever tells me a thing about the past. To the point where one of her friends would let slip “when we were teens and snuck out to the cinema…” my mum was absolutely furious and got extremely angry at her friend for telling (trying to tell me) a story about her and also at me for “listening to her sh*t” I CANNOT know ANYTHING. And the only friend who let things slip has now died.

She is so secretive about my actual family that any friends (or friend’s parents) who’d ask about my dad or why she never married she’d never let me talk to them ever again (which made school awkward).

She is extremely controlling with my friends, if I go somewhere she HAS to drive me. She also has to pick me up. This is to confirm I am with who I say I’m with. If I’m vague or if she doesn’t see me actually meet my friend she will wait somewhere around the area and sometimes she sends her friends and her friend’s daughters out to spy on me. Example: One time I said I’m meeting “Natasha” at Starbucks at 11. Got dropped off in town. Natasha couldn’t meet until 1 and we went to Caffè Nero. My mum was furious at me because she walked past Starbucks and sat outside waiting for me and I never showed up. “Who were you with, where were you what were you doing, you’re a liar, this is why I don’t trust you” The next day I met a different friend “Kayleigh” and outside the place we were meeting was my mum’s friend’s daughter who watched me go in, who I sat with and immediately started typing on her phone. (I was 28 at the time this happened. Not young!). She’ll also go into shops or cafes or places my friends work and ask if I was in and who was I with and things like that.

She refuses to let me have my own bank card and my own money. I need to say what I want the money for, show her the items I bought and also reciepts.

For some random reason when I was a child (maybe 6,7,8?) she told me my Nan (Dad’s mum) wants contact with me. My dad’s side of the family live a 6 hour journey away but I chose yes, I want to see them. My mum let me meet my Nan briefly but made many snide comments about hating her and contact dropped off. I WAS allowed to meet my aunts and uncles. And their children (my cousins). I could meet anyone I wanted as long as it wasn’t my Dad. And I was to never ask about him (at such a young age I was terrified to go against my mum’s wishes).

When I was 14 I started to ask about my Dad. My mum went cold and ignored me for a week straight then she got her friend to tell me he’s a loser who has no money and he only wants mine (umm, what money does a 14 year old have worth stealing?) They also said he’s a pervert and only wants contact me because I’m young. They said he has sexually assaulted my mum’s friend, my mum’s friend’s daughter and has attacked my mum.

I never saw or spoke to the family much. I only ever remained in contact with one aunt and her children. I was under the impression Dad re-married and had a wife and 3 kids. I contacted the girl on social media and considered her my sister. My mum was so angry and got someone to hack into my account, send my sister a load of abuse and blocked her.

When I was 18 (in 2008) we went to a big family party for my aunt (the first family event we had been to and we could only go because my Dad wasn’t there). My sister was there and it was the only time we’d ever met and she hid because she was terrified of ME.

Now I need to make this bit clear: I WASN’T HERE FOR THIS NEXT EVENT. This happened outside and I was inside at the bar. The one friend I took with me was with my mum. A cousin who my mum has always made it clear she hated and she tried to make me hate (“he stole your toys when you were 4” “his mother got him tickets to Disneyland and all you got was a photo album, isn’t that unfair?” and so many sly comments and looks) had attacked my mum. I got there as he pushed her up against a fence holding a glass bottle to her face and my cousins (his sisters and brother and our other cousins) were pulling him off of her and helping her. He claims she started it but she says she never said anything directly to his face. My friend confirmed this. Though my friend has since been caught out in many lies amd eventually blocked me. And my mum? Well she’s getting more aggressive. Example: She’ll go to a restaurant my friend owns and I temporarily worked at and demand freebies, refuse to pay and call him a tight fisted “see you N tea” and constantly tell other customers (even new ones who just walked in) how much she hated the food there. Eventually he banned her then banned me from working there, because of her behaviour. And (stupidly) it’s only recently I’ve started to think maybe my mum did cause the incident.

My mum’s been extremely paranoid about the incident. She was scared of him for years because he’s “loose” and “got away with it unpunished” (I have since found out he got over £1,000,fine! But for years she constantly told me they “couldn’t find the security footage” so “the whole family have tool his side and it’s a massive cover up and they’re all involved”). She absolutely forbid me to speak to any of the family at all.

The family continued to send me letters, wedding invitations, birthday cards. My mum would rip them up and it all eventually stopped. Around 5 years ago (so about 6 years after the incident) my cousin I was closest to and who helped pull her brother off of my mum added me on social media. I told my mum about it, lucky for me she’s not on social media but as I said, she has spies and I knew her reaction if she did find out. She told me I can do what I want but she won’t be happy. Then she told me to accept so we can spy on the family. So I added my cousin and as many names as I could remember from the family. Only a few accepted.

Only a few months ago a blank profile contacted me on social media with a phone number saying that’s my Dad’s. I’ve been too scared to phone it because if it got back to my mum I can’t even imagine. Also I have always feared he is dangerous because of what my mum and her friend have said. But it’s always confused me how he’s married and has other kids if he’s so “dangerous” One thing I’ve noticed is he is very rarely in family pictures. I must’ve come across around 2 in total. I stalked his children, the girl I think of as my sister. Her dad is not mine. Not the same face, not the same (first) name. She is my dad’s brother’s. She is my cousin. I’m not sure why my mum freaked out all those years ago when I spoke to her specifically. How is she different to my other cousins?!.

Now one of my cousins has spoke about coming down to visit me. I’d love to see her and I hope she has answers. The problem is she didn’t exactly ask. She just sort of said she is coming down to visit and has already booked the hotel and travel. The few people I trust to cover for me and not blab to my mum have all said it’s extremely important I meet her because she’ll have all the answers. I’ve also been encouraged to call my Dad. But I am so scared of my mum and her reaction. She is mentally and emotionally abusive and she gets physical, too. And if I do the slightest thing wrong she gets her friends, and their friends, and their kids to call and message me what an awful person I am (last time was “I forgot my sandwich, can we turn the car round” because how dare I be demanding and spoilt and MAKE my mum turn around etc etc) so I am too afraid to do something REALLY wrong.

I am so afraid of being caught out in a lie that I’ve been honest and told my mum my cousin is visiting. She thinks it’s an ambush. It’s revenge for all those years ago. She thinks I’ll go to meet one cousin and the whole family will be there waiting to attack me. Then she ignored me all night and when she spoke the next day she said I can only meet my cousin if I’m with her and she’s gonna punch my cousin before my cousin punches us. I don’t think my cousin is aggressive or after revenge because we are actually friends and speak all the time (mum doesn’t know this). (Example of my mum’s paranoia: I asked for some money to go on holiday. She gave it to me, my own and she made up what i cant afford. but kept saying the holiday is not going to happen. She still believes it didn’t. All the pictures of me on holiday? Photoshopped! She thinks I ran off with her money. Where did I go if not on holiday?).

I don’t think my cousin is aware of the beef because before she booked the hotel she asked to stay with us. I don’t want to explain about my mum yet as I dont want to put my cousin off coming. It’s so important that I meet her. But I also have no idea how I’m going to hide her! I don’t know how to start explaining to her.

Side note: I’ve had my mum seen to by doctors and she outright denies any mental health issues and refuses to take any meds because “nothing is wrong”

[echoeternally]

Birthday Gift! (Peppy/Fox)

Hello matsutzu & readers! By following this story, from the index here, you’re agreeing that you ship Fox with Peppy, because screw age being a barrier with adults, and more importantly, it’s got that satisfaction for underrated cravings.

Anyway, continue on ahead if you want some Peppox romance! And enjoy!

[MED BAY/PEPPY]

 Through some brighter corridors of the ship, Fox strolled along until he reached the door with a keypad for the medical bay. He knocked and it opened quickly after. It opened to a gray and brown hare that grinned to him.

 “Hey there, Fox!”

 “Hi Peppy. Need any help?”

 “With…?”

 “Inventory, right?”

 “Ha, you did know.” Peppy chuckled. “You make a great leader, Fox, knowing what your team is up to.”

 “Ah, I don’t know all the time, Peppy,” admitted Fox. “Falco is especially a wild card.”

 “True, but that’s more on him than you,” determined Peppy. “But you do more than well enough when I think it over.”

 “Peppy, you’re going to make me blush.”

 “Good, you’ll actually be a true red fox!” Peppy chuckled and wrapped an arm around Fox. “Come on in, it shouldn’t take too long. I’ve logged everything, so it’s just some sorting to take care of.”

 Fox’s eyes darted back and forth a bit; the medical bay only had a few first aid kits laid out on the two beds. Peppy slipped his arm from Fox, walking to the bed on the right and placing some bandages back in a cabinet near the bed. Fox watched as Peppy bent down, pulling out a small antibacterial tube that fell between the two, and dropped it into a drawer. He turned back as Fox shifted his attention to the bed.

 “Just need some fresh sheets on the other bed, these kits put away, and we should be all set.” Peppy sighed as he turned back to the first aid kits. “You think they’d be more generous with selling us these, considering we saved Lylat a few times over.”

 “No such luck.” Fox smirked, as he walked to the closet. “Sheets are in here, right?”

 “Yep, you take care of those, and I’ll get these on the shelves.”

 “Oh, I was…don’t you want me to lift those?”

 “Fox, I’m old, not feeble.” Peppy picked up a silver kit, and carried it over to the storage shelves. “The heaviest are the gold boxes, and we only have one new one.”

 “Only one?”

 “Sadly, yes.” Peppy pushed the box up on the shelf, and turned back to Fox. “Couldn’t exactly afford more, given their cost. It’s a shame, given that they have the best supplies for missions out in the field.”

 “Yeah, that’s lousy.” Fox pulled out blankets with the sheets, carrying them back to the bed. “Did we have any here?”

 “Just a few, maybe we’ve got five or six now.” Peppy picked up two of the green first aid kits, carrying them to the shelf. “Sounds like a lot to the merchants, but that’s hardly enough for missions.”

 “That just means we’ll have to make more on our next one,” decided Fox. “Or pick up some odd jobs to get extra funds.”

 “Not a bad idea,” agreed Peppy.

Taking the sheets from the bag, Fox pulled it over the mattress, tugging it around the near corners first. He reached across to pull it over the far corners, but pulled it out of place from the other side. Gritting his teeth, Fox tried again, tucking the sheets tighter. He lifted the mattress and slid the blankets and quilt underneath, pulling the rest over the top.

 Turning back around, Fox picked up the pillow, but blinked as Peppy stared at him. Rubbing his chin, Peppy chuckled.

 “You look like you were struggling a bit, there.”

 “It wasn’t that bad.” Fox shrugged, shoving the pillow in its case. “It’s just…a bit of a pain.”

 “Galactic hero and top pilot, bested by some bed sheets.”

 “Very funny.”

 “Hey, that sounds like a good time to me.”

 “Huh?”

 “Ah, nothing. Here, let me help.”

 Taking the pillow from Fox’s hands, Peppy turned it and shifted it back into its case. He fluffed it a bit, placed it onto the bed, and then smoothed out the crooked sheets.

 “See, there we go.”

 “You make it look easy.”

 “Ha, I had to figure it out when this team first formed,” reminisced Peppy. “James was a nightmare at sorting out anything delicate, that’s for sure!”

 “And here I was hoping I only inherited his piloting skills and good looks,” joked Fox.

 “No worries, I’ll keep this one a secret between us,” teased Peppy. “Your father would’ve gotten a kick out of this. Your mother, not so much.”

 “Yeah…” Fox’s smile fell as leaned against the bed.

 “Ah, Fox, I’m sorry.” Peppy frowned. “I wasn’t looking to—”

 “No, I love it when you tell me stories about them,” Fox insisted. “I just wish I had more time with Dad and even got to know Mom.”

 “They were great people, Fox,” assured Peppy. “I wish I could bring them back for you, just give you three a day…”

 “It would be nice,” agreed Fox. “But, you’re enough. I’m glad I have even you.”

 “Aw, Fox, I’m not…thank you.” Peppy rested his hand on Fox’s shoulder. “And I’ll always be around when you need me, I promise.”

 “Right back at you.”

 “Come on, let me just enter in the logs on the computer here, and we’ll get a pick-me-up after,” decided Peppy. “I’m sure we’ve got some tasty treats in the fridge.”

 “Carrot cake?”

 “You all get a kick out of me liking that so much, don’t you?”

 “Almost as much as doing barrel rolls,” mocked Fox.

 “And I’m never going to live that down either,” murmured Peppy. He sighed as Fox laughed. “Alright, let me just enter the records in from the tablet.”

 Peppy walked to the desk in the corner of the room, picking up the tablet and typing in on it. Fox followed, and peeked over Peppy’s shoulder at the results on the tablet. Swiping up from the tablet, the results were transmitted digitally and added to the logs on the computer.

 “Looking pretty well-stocked overall,” decided Peppy. “Let’s just save, close this, and…ah.”

 Fox blinked as Peppy hurriedly tried to close the next window. He was too late, with Fox having spotted court documents, specifically words on “filing for divorce.” Leaning back, Fox raised an eyebrow as Peppy turned back, ears drooping.

 “Uh, I, ah…I forgot that was up.” He weakly chuckled. “That can be a secret too.”

 “Wait, Peppy,” Fox shook his head, “what’s going on with you and your wife?”

 “That would be ‘ex-wife,’ as of this morning,” disclosed Peppy. “Vivian and I, uh…well, we’ve had our differences over the years. And…now we won’t.”

 “But…but Peppy—”

 “I didn’t really want any of you boys to worry about me,” interrupted Peppy. “She didn’t like me on the team, even now, and it’s gotten to a point that…” Peppy sighed and shrugged. “A point where I didn’t choose her.”

 Silently, Fox stared into Peppy’s dark red eyes, as the hare drummed the desk beside him. He stood up from his seat, but Fox barely moved away.

 “Let’s just forget about that, and—”

 “No, Peppy, I-I can’t.” Fox shook his head again. “I can’t believe you didn’t even tell me, I could’ve given you time off—”

 “Sure you could’ve. I didn’t want it.” Peppy placed his hand back on Fox’s shoulder. “She doesn’t make me happy, Fox. It’s been years, and we’ve both known that for a long time about each other. But, that’s true.” He chuckled. “Vixy thought we rushed our marriage, and I never wanted to admit it, but she was right. Your mother was sharp like that.”

 “Still…”

 “Fox, I promise you, it’s fine.” He gently massaged Fox’s shoulder. “These things happen to us. We can fall in love, we can think that we did, and we can fall out of it too. I happen to be on the latter end of it.”

 “Peppy…I can’t…I feel like this is on me.”

 “Listen, Fox, I’m not going to repeat myself all night.” Peppy rested both of his hands on Fox’s shoulders, gazing directly at him as Fox’s pulse quickened. “It’s. Not. On. You. None of it is any fault of yours, ok? I chose this life, Viv and I both chose the divorce, and that’s the end of it all.”

 “You deserve to be happy, though,” managed Fox. Peppy opened his mouth, but Fox placed his hand over it. “I know, I know. But if she didn’t make you happy, what does? This team can’t be everything.”

 “It does the trick,” persisted Peppy as he moved Fox’s hand. “Taking to the skies, keeping the peace, working with you boys…that’s plenty for me.”

 “But…it’s just…” Fox’s shoulders dropped, and Peppy’s hands slid down along them. “I don’t like picturing any of you alone. What if there’s a day that Star Fox doesn’t need to be? Then what’s next for you?”

 “If I make it that long, I’ll build the bridge when I get there,” decided Peppy. “I don’t think that’s a day coming for me anytime soon.”

 “That only makes it sound harder and lonelier on you.”

 “You’re here, aren’t you?” Peppy chuckled, patting Fox again, as the leader’s cheeks lit up a bit. “So long as I’ve got at least you, Fox, that’s good enough. If I can help you build a better future, so much the better.”

 “Thank you, but you deserve to enjoy the future too,” Fox insisted. “Someone should spend it with you.”

 “There isn’t anyone looking for an old hare like me to enjoy the years with,” joked Peppy. He paused and rubbed his chin. “…Well, maybe, but I’ll have to look into that.”

 “Definitely, there are definitely others that would be interested in you, Pep.”

 “Oh yeah? Know any secret admirers of me, then?”

 Chuckling again, Peppy hands slowly slipped from Fox, who quickly grabbed them. He stopped and blinked, as Fox’s hands trembled.

 “Are you feeling ok, Fox?” Peppy pulled his hands from Fox’s, clasping his hands on Fox’s arms and watching him carefully. “You’re shaking, your face looks pretty red, and you sure feel warm.”

 “Um…Peppy.”

 “Yeah?”

 “…Uh…” Fox swallowed hard. “What if…what if I did know of an, um, admirer?”

 “No fooling?”

 “Nope, I’m…completely serious.”

 “Huh.” Peppy chuckled. “Guess I can’t be too old yet, eh? Ok, Fox, you tell me—”

 “It’s a guy.” Fox blinked and studied Peppy’s face. “Is that…a problem?”

 “Ah…w-well—”

 “Yes, then.”

 “No! No, that’s…Fox, I happen to, uh, like…” Peppy shifted around and rolled his head. Quickly, he finished, “Guys interest me too, like girls, in that way, there.” He sighed, his cheeks slightly flushed. “I think I’ve blabbed too many secrets to you tonight.”

 “How about I share mine, then?” Fox shuddered as Peppy blinked at him.

 “…Wait a minute.” Peppy shook his head. “I’m old, not daft. Fox…” Peppy frowned, adjusting his spectacles. “Look, I don’t want to assume anything, but—”

 “It’s me.” Fox clenched his fists and shrugged. “Peppy, I…I, uh, I like…I’d like to be with you.”

 Both stood in silence, as Fox lowered his head and stared at the floor, his face becoming bright red. Peppy shifted his weight around, first a little away, and then back toward Fox.

 “…This isn’t a joke, right?”

 “No.”

 “Fox, I’m…I’m a lot older,” protested Peppy. “You, ah, you should…you know, be with someone closer to your age.”

 “Maybe,” relented Fox. He shook his head. “But I…I know what I feel.” He looked back up at Peppy, who lifted a hand toward him, but hesitated. “Peppy, I…look, I knew you had a wife, but lately, I’ve…I don’t know, carried a crush?” Fox dug his hands in his jacket pockets. “I just figured that I’d never…I didn’t think you’d ever be remotely interested in the idea, let alone available.”

 “You kidding? Fox, you’re handsome and adorable.” Peppy smirked. “I, ah, I didn’t think I’d ever admit this out loud, but, uh, well, it’s a recent development for me too, but…” He inhaled and heavily exhaled. “…Maybe I kind of, you know…thought your father was, um…cute. And, now that you’re an adult, seeing you…reminds me of him, in some ways.”

 “Oh.” Fox’s shoulders dropped. “That’s not—”

 “Hang on, hang on.” Peppy rubbed his hand across his mouth. “I don’t mean that all I see in you is him, when I’m talking like that. It’s just…he looked good one way, and you’re…hmm…” Peppy cleared his throat. “If I were some years younger, I’d definitely be chasing after you, I admit it.”

 “But…why is my age an issue?” Fox scratched his arm. “We’re both adults. By a lot of years.”

 “True, but…come on, Fox, me?” Peppy gestured to his figure. “Look at this. I’m old, I’m fat, and I’m not exactly—”

 “You have some muscular build,” pointed out Fox. “You can keep up with us on foot.”

 “W-well sure, but…” Peppy dragged his hand over his head and ears. “You can do a lot better, Fox.”

 “Peppy, to me, you are better.” Fox softly smiled. “You’re brave and wise, you’re kind, and you’re loyal and supportive. Even if you don’t think it, I definitely find you handsome.” Peppy blushed harder, coughing in an attempt to hide it. “I mean, yeah, you knew me as a kid, but you’ve spent more time with me as an adult, and…I just, I guess I was hoping that maybe…” Fox’s ears lowered back. “Forget it, I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

 “Ah, that’s not…that’s not what I’d call it,” admitted Peppy. “You told me yourself, you’re far from a kid, I haven’t looked at you as one for years, so I just…I’d like it if you were absolutely sure about it.”

 “Definitely.” Fox beamed as his ears lifted. “Does that mean—?”

 “This is a bit fast.”

 “Oh. Well, yeah, I-I didn’t—”

 “No, it’s fine.” Peppy smiled and shrugged. “Fast, but I’d be a complete liar if I admit that I didn’t like where it’s going. Fox, I…you’re a fantastic leader and pilot, and I’ll be bold enough to think that you’ll be legendary some day, if you’re not already. You’re sweet, caring, and understand your teammates better than even they realize.” He lifted his hands, flinched back, and paused. “I just…wait, kids.” Fox raised an eyebrow and Peppy shook his head. “What about your future, Fox? You’re thinking all about me, but what about starting a family, or—?”

 “If you’re not opposed to it,” intervened Fox, “I…I mean, we don’t have to, but…you and I could, if you—”

 “You want kids with me?”

 “Yeah.” Fox shrugged as Peppy pinched his upper lip, tugging at a few strands of gray fur. “A family with you sounds fine, when we’re ready. And we’ve got options. Technology advancements are, well, you can make, um…” Fox shrugged again. “Or we could adopt. Or…or we could do anything else.”

 “Anything, huh?” Peppy smirked. “Anything with me?”

 “Yes.” Fox sighed. “Am I missing anything, or…?”

 “Ha, well…you’ve taken down my biggest reservations for you,” confessed Peppy. “And…maybe I steal a few glances at you, more than I should, and…maybe they weren’t all friendly, depending on how you look at it.”

 “Geez, Peppy.”

 “See, see? You told me—”

 “I do the same to you, too.”

 “Oh. …Oh.” Peppy grinned. “You really do like me, huh?”

 “How else can I spell it out for you?”

 “One more way.”

 Peppy raised his hands to Fox’s cheeks, and the two gazed into one another’s eyes. They slowly closed the distance between them, their lips pressing together. Fox lifted an arm under Peppy’s, wrapping around his back, while Peppy scooped him in closer. Kissing for another moment, they separated and breathed heavily.

 “…Wow.” Fox laughed. “I…that was great.”

 “Heh…not too old for that,” joked Peppy. His hands trailed down Fox’s sides and rested on his waist. “You, um, you want to keep that a secret too, or…?”

 “How about we decide on that later,” suggested Fox, rubbing Peppy’s back. “Right now, I just want to enjoy the night with you.”

 “That’s fine by me.” Peppy kissed Fox’s cheek, and stayed close to him. “Whatever you want, Fox, that’s fine with me.”

 “Well, I do want you.” Fox smirked. “So, that works.”

  They embraced one another, chuckling a bit before remaining still for a bit. Managing to separate themselves, the couple chatted for a little while longer, flirting in between, before leaving the medical bay together.

[wevcretts-blog]

hello dears ! my name’s red ( nineteen, est, she/her, hedgehog and panda enthusiast ) and this is winona, applied for as a lisa t fc but switched to take up the connection to the other maddy p we have around londons. tbh i’m terrible about talking about myself, so let’s just get to it ! ( note ; i still have to plot with winona’s sister, hence her being missing from this intro. )

a brief introduction to winona everett. chipped nail polish, potted plants, old canvas shoes. enjoying the chaos of the mistakes you’ve made. new car in a bad neighborhood and the burn of cheap vodka. an hour spent hunched over an almanac to see what his flowers meant. lit candles even when the power’s fine. diamond crucifix traded in for new age spiritualism, tarot cards, and electric guitars. the juxtaposition of grunge with old standards, as you dance across your uncarpeted floor with invisible partners. not yours, i’m not even mine !

introducing winona everett, the twenty year old who works as a clerk a small psychic shop downtown. known for being independent and bullheaded. still using mother dearest’s credit card.

winona never knew her father, he was out of the picture before winona had learned to say his name. however, mrs. everett never remarried, instead spending the time she wasn’t managing her firm, caring for her ‘only’ daughter and literal sunshine, winona. everything would be just so in her daughter’s life. however, soon became a teenage girl who felt stifled by her mother’s protective nature.

in high school she started to try and ‘find herself,’ or more importantly lose her mother. winona became experimental at best, and erratic in reality. often she appeared more like a child trying on an older, more daring, cousin’s clothes, or a person shoddily constructed out of leftovers. slowly though, she did find someone; by the time she graduated, winona was the sweetest deadhead drama queen, a ‘gentle new age spirit’ who loves frank sinatra and kayne west in equal measure, and won’t be quite so gentle if you piss her off.

a fraud claiming to be independent, a credit card with home as the billing address can be found in her wallet. she loves her job at parctical magik, but it doesn’t pay for much besides her apartment. how else is she going to afford the fruity cocktails she enjoys so much, let alone the concert tickets? no, despite how much winona has appeared to have emancipated herself, she’s still quite reliant on her mother, even though they don’t talk much. her mother keeps footing the bill in hopes that, one day, she’ll get bored and come home. he has one condition though, which is that she finishes college.

winona is enrolled locally. she’s declared as an english literature major, but taking the right classes to be pre - med as well… ( though she hasn’t declared and would prefer you didn’t tell her mother ). her books take care of her and she harbors a silent want to take care of others. if you’re by her side, consider yourself lucky and prepare yourself to be quietly looked after if something goes wrong. though, her methods tend to be slightly more homegrown and holistic than one might expect from her secret major. common colds and broken hearts can both be fixed with the right herbal tea.

once a drama queen, always a drama queen. her anger is quick in both directions, often disappearing as fast as it arose. she just needs to get it out of her system ! you can’t do much about it or which side you land on, but if you do end up on her shit list… well i wish you the best of luck.

she lives in a two bedroom apartment , though she is the only inhabitant ( her last roommate couldn’t deal with her odd hours ). double wick canldes juxtaposed with neon track lighting,, a nest of possibly too many pillows atop her bed, a large collection of potted plants, and a killer sound system. the walls covered in vinyl stickers, enough posters to rival your middle school sister and a tapestry or two, but the floor is home to no rug ( “ too many spills on the last one ! ” ). there’s a gymnastics finals trophy on top of her dresser; the only hold over from her previous life.

winona identifies as a demi girl and is content with either feminine ( she / her ) or gender neutral pronouns ( they / them ). her reasoning is a bit complex and personal, but if asked she’ll explain it like this ‘ i always felt comfortable being a girl, the word woman always felt like someone else. ’

possible connections.

cousins ! ones that have their act together and are living the way mr. everett wishes she was, and those who use their money just as chaotically as she does

a recently acquired roommate ! she can’t keep paying for the apartment by herself without feeling like she’s failed

hookups ! winona is very confident in her sexuality and enjoys when things are casual and fun

ride or die ! these two have been close for a while now, and winona loves having them by her side

supplier ! it’s no secret that winona has a bit of a drug habit, and she could use someone to keep her stocked up

and more tbh i seriously suck at pre - thought of connections, and would love to brainstorm !