#and i was walking through the streets of seattle and everything felt bad broken and out of reach

[seeminglydark]

Hey um, so this is actually my first time typing anything on tumblr, partially because I only got it a couple months ago (something something healing my inner child because I only managed to secretly log into Webtoons during my younger years) and I am also a chronic lurker. Alas, it is the night hours and this, combined with listening to the first episode of Mil-Liminal has moved me to emerge, if only for a moment.

Sorry, this is strange. I am typing to someone I do not know who has written so much that is so close to my heart. Something about the first episode just really hit. Maybe it’s cause of how I can relate. Maybe it’s cause listening to it felt a little too real as if maybe you or someone you knew could relate. The thought makes me really sad but also less alone. Is that messed up?

Regardless, thank you so much for everything you make. Every success you have makes me really happy, and seeing you expand over the years to now being able to hear “Caro’s” voice after imagining it for so long- just awesome. Now if I may impose my nagging that I give to my friends upon you, please take care of yourself, make space and recognize the inherent worth you have, know that rest is necessary and you do not need to earn it, and thank you for everything you have done for the community and for all the dark times of my life you have lighted.

Hey, Hi. Even as a person who literally writes for a living, I'm always at a loss for words. Thank you. Thank you for summoning courage and coming out of the shadows for a second to send me this message. I want you to know it moved me to tears (don't worry, crying's healthy.) It's not messed up to feel less alone by listening to my stories, because you're right. Almost everything I write, I have experienced in some kinda way. That includes breaking free from control, running away, and living in my car and suddenly not knowing who the hell I even was (not from my parents though, as in Caro's case.) My writing is and has always been a way to process and express my own grief, healing, yearning, and wishing, identity, and sexuality. The fact that it can hit other people who might be going through or went through similar things actually makes it even more worth while to me. And you don't need to be sad for the things I've gone through, because it brought me here. Almost middle-aged, the bad times feel like an old nightmare I can barely remember, Breathing, Heart beating, ALIVE and with stories to tell, and if I'm lucky, some hope to share. Cuz there is hope, and don't you forget that.

Thank you again, from the very bottom of my heart. This whole message is really so special to me in the deepest most profound way possible. I want to reply to the last paragraph with something great to say, you know what I mean? Words are hard though. So instead I'll thank you again, and I'll ask that you have that same grace for yourself too, and leave you with a little drawing of a kid figuring out their life, even though they feel really lost right now, the wonderful thing about Caro's story is that we already know it's going to be ok one day. -RJ

#asks #or maybe letters #thank you so much #one time i was floundering in my life #and i was walking through the streets of seattle and everything felt bad broken and out of reach #and on a telephone pole on the corner of phinney i saw a yellow post it note #and in red ink it said 'everything's going to be ok' #and thats so corny but i took a picture and i look at it from time to time #i hope my stories and my art can be that for someone else #ok i probably wrote too much in the tags #anyway #much love

[bookishofalder]

The Bet

Hotch x Fem!Reader

Request: @honeyshelley - ‘Hiii, I just discovered you and I hope to read soon your work ! And i hope you are safe and healthly ❤ i wondered if you could write something for Hotchner, the reader can be a police officer who call the bau for help to catch a serial killer or something, a bit of angst maybe and write only of you are inspired ! Don't force yourself, 🤗’

Warnings: Panic attack description, mild CM content. 

A/N: Man, I love Hotch. They did him DIRTY on CM because he stood up for his cast mates and I’ll never forgive CBS for it. 

Hotch was annoyed.

Though a regularly occurring emotion for him, it was rarely so focused upon himself. Today he stood in the conference room of the D.C. FBI Field Office, where they were assisting on a local case. And he was irritated with only himself.

Because of you.

He didn’t blame you in the least, of course. He wasn’t irrational, wasn’t one to deflect or project his emotions onto others-least of all someone entirely innocent and unaware. It was just exhausting, though, working this case. You were a new addition to the field office, having just transferred from Seattle in hopes of further advancing your already impressive career within the FBI. Hotch had heard of you before, details of your more prolific cases and intense work ethic were often relayed by Spencer Reid, who was one to stay up on fellow agents that might one day suit the BAU team.

And while Hotch had been impressed, mildly interested, happy to get a chance to work with you, he had not expected the woman who walked through the front lobby and extended her hand to him three days prior. No, you had caught him entirely off guard, and he was still reeling. He hadn’t felt this way about a woman in...probably ever if he was honest with himself. Hailey and he were high school sweethearts-that kind of love was different, steady and safe and expected. Beth had caught his attention, her kindness and overall different lifestyle an alluring escape from the realities of his day to day. But things never really took off with her, despite their mutual respect.

But you, well you had him captivated the moment he met your friendly gaze, your eyes wide in clear excitement for getting a chance to work with the BAU. Your hand grasped his and he’d felt like time had slowed, just enough that he could take in every single detail as he introduced himself. The way your hair fell, the curve of your hips, the small pout of your lips. Your posture, head held high to convey the message that you were a leader, not one to be overlooked. It all struck him at the moment, and when you repeated his name in your breathy voice, he knew he was done for.

Three days later the case was going well, though there was an uphill battle, progress was progress. Hotch was happy with how his team was performing. They’d worked plenty of cases with the staff of the D.C. field office. With different sections, and even interacted with many of the agents in social settings and workplace functions, given the proximity to Quantico. But Hotch felt he wasn’t working at his best, behaving entirely unlike himself as he was completely distracted by you every time you stepped into the room.

It had been three days of variable torture, his mind continually informing him of the why not’s-the age gap, that you probably already had a partner, that Hotch was damaged and cursed and certainly didn’t deserve a woman like you. And then you’d bring him a coffee, or stand closely next to him as you both surveyed a map provided by Reid, or tuck your hair behind your ear with a little smile when the conversation turned away from work, and Hotch would feel hot and bothered and not at all like himself.

“Agent Hotchner?” Your voice pulled him from his thoughts, his gaze lifting from the tablet he’d been pretending to read, and meeting yours. You smiled down at Hotch, leaning against the table where he sat. The scent of fresh linens and honeysuckle wafted toward him, delighting his senses further.

Hotch returned your smile automatically, something he was aware was rare for him. He hadn’t needed Derek mentioning it last night as they made their way out the doors, calling attention to his sudden eagerness to smile around the beautiful, strong new agent. But Derek had always enjoyed teasing him when he could get away with it.

“I’m sorry, Agent (Y/L/N), did you say something?” Could you hear his heart right now, as it beat against his chest? The thrum, thrum, thrum signalling just how you affected every cell within his body-could you sense it?

You smirked, extending a coffee you’d been clutching toward him with a small shrug, “I think you need this more than I do, sir.” You giggled, and Hotch’s cheeks flushed in response. His fingers brushed yours when he gratefully took the proffered beverage and he felt a shiver of electricity across his skin.

Hotch nodded in thanks, “Cases like this always seem to require extra coffee.” He admitted, taking a sip and noting how you enjoyed your coffee much sweeter than he did, but at that moment he didn’t mind. It was quality coffee, hot and given by you.

Sighing, you crossed your arms and Hotch kept his gaze level with yours despite the captivating way your breasts pushed out. Inwardly, he chastised himself for his train of thought. You were his colleague. His colleague. His very beautiful, disarmingly charming colleague.

“I agree, though they come along often enough that it’s starting to become a poor excuse for overindulging.”

Hotch glanced down at his mug as he laughed, then back up. When he met your eyes, he noticed they widened slightly, a faint flush dusting your cheeks. This captured his attention fully, but before he could begin to consider how to move forward, how to find out what your blushing meant, Derek and Emily walked into the conference room, heads low.

Another victim had been found.

+

“I really hate alleyways. I think society needs to eliminate them entirely,” You said, your hand clapped over your nose and mouth to ease the intensity of the scent of rotting flesh from the victim that you, Hotch and Reid were staring down upon. “After this case, I’m petitioning for it here-at least within my jurisdiction.”

Hotch laughed aloud. Reid glanced up from the victim, brows furrowed and opened his mouth to no doubt educate you on everything and anything he knew about alleyways. Which you assumed was a lot, because you’d known the genius a few days now and already understood there was little he didn’t know. But you shook your head, resting a hand on his arm as you laughed.

“She’s joking,” Hotch supplied, giving you a warm smile as Reid nodded in understanding. Your knees trembled every time this man looked at you, and you were surprised you didn’t just collapse the moment he flashed you that gorgeous grin. Fuck, you had it bad.

You’d always had a thing for older men, though you hadn’t dated any. You had had a few previous relationships with men your age, either fellow students in college or agents at the academy, but they were all short-lived. You counted some of those men amongst your closest friends. But you focused instead on your career and hoped one day a suitable partner would appear.

You hadn’t expected Agent Aaron Hotchner to tick every single box on your list the moment he introduced himself and those dark, warm eyes searched your face, as though he was seeing something unexpected. You’d spent the last few days finding any excuse to work with or near him, even going so far as to join him and Reid at this most recent crime scene despite how much you really, truly hated alleys.

Nothing good ever happened in an alley, as far as you were concerned, and though you tried to hide your discomfort behind humour, you were eager to assess the scene and get the hell out of the narrow, stifling gap carved between two old buildings.

It was a short while later, when the crime scene photographer was following your instructions, you and the two men on either side of you discussing the case from the vantage of the latest victim, that the discomfort began to fester. It evolved, so slowly you hadn’t realized until suddenly your spine felt tight and your level-headedness seemed to disintegrate. You swallowed, setting your jaw and working to disassociate yourself from your surroundings, hopeful the renowned BAU agents were too focused on their work to recognize your sudden internal struggle for composure.

Though, it seemed that Agent Hotchner had been paying attention, and you couldn’t fathom why. At first, you saw his eyes sweep over you from the corner of his own, taking in your stiff posture, the way your hands clenched at your sides. You thought he would leave it alone, be embarrassed for you when suddenly his large hand was slowly pressing into your lower back. Your shirt pressed to your skin and it was then that you realized the layer of sweat that had broken out over your body as your panic attack raged within.

You closed your eyes briefly, focusing on that hand, but it wasn’t enough. The alley was too narrow, too damp and hot, the odour in the air foul and suffocating. “Come with me.” He suddenly murmured in your ear, and you didn’t hesitate to comply, moving with Hotch as his hand remained on your back, guiding you to the mouth of the alley. Once you were on the street, he moved toward the SUV that you’d all driven over in.

Using the keys, he opened the trunk and gestured for you to take a seat. Again, you followed his instructions, lifting yourself, legs dangling slightly. You still couldn’t breathe, even though the air out here in the open was moving, fresh, a soft breeze dancing across your skin.

You felt like the air wasn’t meant for you anymore, your lungs incapable of pulling it in.

Hotch leaned in front of you, his warm eyes full of concern, “Can I touch you?” He asked you, voice low. You nodded, and his hands found your shoulders, grasping gently. After a moment, during which he gauged your reaction to his touch, his grip tightened and his hands slide up and down your upper arms, grounding you somewhat. “Close your eyes, breath with me, sweet girl.”

His words sent a shiver down your spine, but you followed his suggestion and began to take deep breaths as your eyes closed. Your hands lay flat on your thighs, applying your own slight pressure. He took exaggerated breaths to ensure you could hear him and match your own.

You weren’t sure how long you and Hotch stayed like this, but his movements never ceased, and you could feel his eyes watching you. When your breathing evened out, you focused instead on the cool air, the strength behind his hands on you. Slowly, you opened your eyes and met his. “I’m sorry, I-“

Hotch shook his head, “You have nothing to apologize for. We’ve all been there.”

You smiled shyly at his words, nodding. “Well, thank you. This...it really helped.” You watched as he returned your smile, his right hand releasing your arm to brush falling strands of your hair over your shoulder. The gesture alone was enough to make you shiver again, your mind and body reconnecting as your panic attack diminished.

He seemed to notice your reaction this time, and pulled his hands back, appearing surprised. He didn’t move away, though, for which you were grateful. You weren’t ready for the moment to end.

“I hope I didn’t overstep, Agent.” He muttered, his serious frown returning. You shook your head quickly, eager for him to understand just how much you appreciated what he’d just done for you.

“You can call me (Y/N),” You replied quietly, considering your next words carefully. “Although...I didn’t mind sweet girl if I’m being honest.”

You had held his gaze as you spoke, which allowed you to bear witness to the emotions that played across the usually stoic man's face. Shock morphed into a small smile that met his butterscotch eyes, a blush creeping across his skin and his right hand moved to rub the back of his neck nervously. After a few moments, which you could see he was using to come up with a reply, he sat down next to you, your sides touching. He sighed with a smile.

“Could I take you to dinner once this case wraps up, (Y/N)?”

A grin spread across your face at his words, and, feeling bold, you took his hand into yours as you looked up at the handsome man. “I’d love that, Aaron.” You squeezed.

His eyes lit up at your reply and he returned your pressure as he smiled down at you. You stayed like that for a long while, grinning at one another like lovesick kids, so enamoured that you both missed Reid pulling out his phone to snap a picture.

He sent the photo to the team, conceding defeat to Derek and Emily, who had both bet it would take only three days for Hotch to ask you out. Spencer had bet on four days, JJ on a week, and Garcia on a week after the case would wrap up.

Now he was out forty bucks, but it was worth it to see the smiles lighting you both up as you gazed at one another. The rest of the world was background noise.  

Did you enjoy this story? Please consider reblogging or commenting to ease my inner turmoil as a writer. Likes are basically just a bookmark!

#reader insert #fanfic #aaron hotch x reader #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner #bau x reader #fluff #criminal minds #hotch x y/n #requested #feedback appreciated #spencer reid #olderguy #comfort

[kaspbrak-tozier-reddie]

#4 & #14 ~ Reddie

#4 - “Do you trust me?”

#14 - “I’m happy whenever I’m with you.”

Warnings: mentions of car/cyclist accidents

Masterlist + Prompt List + Asks

———————————————————————

Eddie and Richie had been together for nearly 5 years and throughout that time, Richie still tried to impress Eddie. He seemed to think that it would make up for all that time he teased Eddie during their childhood. Eddie, however, thought it was ridiculous, especially when Richie drove an expensive motorcycle into their driveway. It was things like this that weren’t to impress Eddie but more of a dangerous and impulsive activity that was made to give Eddie a heart attack or an aneurysm. 

“What the fuck is this?” Eddie exclaimed as he walked up to Richie. As he got closer to the bike, he could see that it was one of the new Harley Davidson bikes.

“A motorcycle,” Richie said proudly, with the shifting of his feet, like a child trying to be cute.

“Do you know how dangerous those things are!? More people die on bikes than they do in cars!” Richie just shrugged which was a mistake. “Seriously?! Are you trying to give me a heart attack? The number of people coming into the ER from motorcycle crashes is phenomenal!”

“Sorry, Eds,” Richie whispered. Eddie turned back towards the house. He didn’t plan for the start of November to start off with yelling at Richie after finishing his final night shift for the month.

*

As soon as he had marched into the house, Eddie had made a beeline for the bedroom. He knew that Richie would feel bad and try to come and make it up to him but he just wasn’t in the mood. The lengthy hours of surgeries and rounds had gotten the best of him and just wanted to sleep. All he wanted was to curl up on the soft comfortable mattress and in the soft silky sheets with no disturbances.

He let his head sink into the soft, fluffy pillow and was about to fall asleep when his boyfriend came pounding on the door. “Look Eds, I’m sorry. I can take it back.” Richie said behind the closed door.

“Rich, I am extremely tired, can we pick this up later? Then we can deal with your stupidity.” Eddie slurred.

Eddie heard the door open and felt the mattress dip slightly. “Of course.” Richie kissed Eddie’s temple and left the room. Sure he felt guilty for yelling at Richie and basically hating on the motorcycle but Eddie had seen one too many cases where any type of cyclist (bike or motor) was hit by a car or another vehicle. The sight was far from pretty, quite often there were numerous broken limbs and ribs, the occasional spinal and head injury. It was because of this, that Eddie felt scared for Richie.

Richie was impulsive and that often led to him taking risks that caused Eddie’s blood pressure to rise. Jumping off cliffs that were higher than the one at the quarry, not to mention, one foot too far forward and you’d hit a rock and a foot in another direction and you’d hit a sandbank. Richie took Bill skydiving a year ago for Bill’s birthday and Eddie had given them both a list of reasons to not go skydiving. Richie and Beverly went bungee jumping and Eddie once again lost it, listing off all the possible health risks at stake.

Eddie tossed and turned to the point of no return, he reluctantly got up to talk to Richie. He was afraid, everything that Richie did for his adrenaline junkie self, scared him because he was sure that one day one of those incredibly scary risks were going to happen. 

****

He treaded quietly through the large house to the kitchen, hoping to find his boyfriend there. Richie was lounging on the black leather sofa watching some home renovation show that Eddie had gotten him into. Richie had turned around to see Eddie standing in the kitchen. “Babe? Thought you’d gone to sleep.” Richie said.

“I did but I felt bad for yelling at you,” Eddie admitted as he made his way over to the sofa. Richie slowly sat up and removed his long legs so that Eddie could sit down. “I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I know Eds. It’s all you ever do, make sure I don’t get hurt.”

“Is it safe? Did you at least check the safety ratings and have a mechanic check it?”

Richie laughed and nodded. “It’s safe, I have spent a year learning and I have taken some extra lessons in case of worst-case scenarios, just for you.” 

Eddie felt some of the weight on his chest lift but the majority was still there. His anxiety of ever losing Richie was still high and taking one of his anti-anxiety pills now would cause a reaction from the high level of caffeine still in his system. 

“I can’t lose you Rich. I’m happy whenever I’m with you. I love you.” Eddie was on the verge of tears. “It’s not just the bike, it’s everything else as well.” His breathing picks up and Richie flew forwards.

“Eds, look at me. You’re going to hyperventilate. Try to match my breathing.” Richie overexaggerated his breathing pattern so that Eddie could focus. “In … and out,” Richie repeated 3 times before Eddie finally calmed down.

“Eddie, we’re in our mid-thirties and I would like to have no regrets. If that means doing something dangerous …” Richie trails off. “Look, I get it okay, some of the things I’ve done could get me killed, I get that.”

Something in Eddie’s mind flipped a switch, he didn’t know he had. There was suddenly a mantra in his head going: Go for a ride on that damned bike with Richie

He didn’t know where it came from but he liked it. Richie was right, Eddie didn’t want to have regrets. Besides, Eddie couldn’t help but think how hot Richie was in his leather jacket and helmet hair. The jacket clung tight to Richie’s broad shoulders and the helmet tussled Richie’s untamed curly hair. 

“Rich, I want to do something stupid,” Eddie said looking Richie straight into his eyes.

“What?”

“Take me for a ride on that bike.”

Richie smiled proudly, it was something that Eddie had only seen on a rare occasion, more often than not, when Eddie did something reckless. That smile was worn a few times in their childhood, especially when Eddie stopped taking placebos, despite his mother saying he was sick. The smile appeared when Eddie got into Harvard and NYU, and again when Eddie chose NYU to be with Richie. 

*

Richie got his jacket off the coat rack, by the front door, as well as his gloves and helmet. “I know they’re big but I need you to be safe,” Richie said, handing Eddie both the jacket and helmet. Eddie couldn’t help but smile, it was a soft little smile. 

He put the jacket on and immediately felt unsafe, the jacket was two sizes too big, the arms were too long and the hem of the jacket sat below his waist. The helmet, on the other hand, was a little big but Eddie could tighten the strap so it sat a little better.

As soon as they got to the bike, Eddie felt his heart rattle against his chest, he could feel the blood move around his veins. He trusted Richie but he didn’t trust the other drivers. “Do you trust me?” Richie questioned.

“Yes,” Eddie replied.

“As soon as you get on, wrap your arms around my waist.”

“Okay.”

Richie got on first and stabled the bike so that Eddie could get on. Eddie kicked on leg over the other side of the bike and wrapped his arms around Richie’s waist. The bike was loud and took Eddie by surprise, the vibration of the engine and exhaust shook his body causing him to hug Richie tighter. 

Within seconds, they were riding down the street and into the busy Seattle traffic, passing cars and trucks. Eddie could feel the wind brushing against his back from the gap that the jacket had caused. He imagined that this is what the Flash felt like whenever he was running, or whenever Superman flew. The bike seemed faster compared to driving a car, he was glad that he made Richie take him out.

#reddie #eddie x richie #richie x eddie #edward kaspbrak #eddie kaspbrak #richard tozier #richie tozier #it chapter 1 #IT chapter 2

[fangirlshrewt97]

Answering a Call for Help

Author(s): Fangirlshrewt97

Fandom: Grey’s Anatomy

Pairing: Levi Schmitt/Nico Kim

Characters: Levi Schmitt, Nico Kim, Original Female Character

Rating: General

Warnings: None

Additional Tags: Whumptober, Injured character, BAMF Levi, Proud Nico, Fluff

Whumptober 2019 Prompt: Embrace

Summary: As Levi is returning home, he comes across an injured woman, and it is up to him to make sure he gets her taken care of.

I know the summary is vague, but I promise the story is decent.

So this is slightly cheating because the injured character is an original character, but I wanted to write at least one fluffy character so screw you guys if you have something to say against it.

Link to A03: archiveofourown.org/works/20939711

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

Levi was strolling down the street to his house, high on the celebration of a surgery well done and a round of celebratory sex with Nico. He had decided to take the long route home, walking through the park. It was almost ten, almost closing time, so the park was deserted expect for a couple walking in the far distance that Levi only spotted when they passed below the park’s streetlamp.

Levi started whistling a song, still rethinking about the praise Dr. Grey had given him for a job well done. After almost two years of making stupid mistake after stupid mistake, Levi was finally starting to get it right, and proving to everyone that he was just as capable as the other interns. Not that anyone thought he was a bad doctor necessarily, he just wasn’t trusted with anything too … sensitive or fragile. But the liver transplant had been completed without a hitch, his patient was well on the way to recovery, and his relationship was stronger than ever. Nico was still looking for fellowship programs outside Seattle, but both had had long conversations about what they wanted out of the relationship and agreed that Nico should focus on his career. And they’d try their best at a long-distance relationship, and if they were still strong by the time Levi’s own fellowship started, Levi would shift to be near Nico.

A cold breeze swept through the park, making Levi blow into his hands to warm them slightly before tucking them deep into his coat. He hunched in to preserve the heat and picked up the pace. Winter was coming, and it was coming fast, and despite having lived here for most of his life, he was still not the biggest fan of the cold.

A rustle nearby made him pause, turning to glace at the bushes to his right, but when he looked around, there didn’t seem to be anything there, so he kept walking, his pace slightly slower than before. Another rustle made him stop and call out “Hello? Anyone there?”

It was quiet for long enough that Levi turned to keep going home when he heard the faintest groan and a plea for help. Taking his phone out of his pocket to turn on the flashlight, Levi ran in the direction of the voice. “Hello? Ma’am? Sir? Are you hurt?”

“Over here…” came the response, a little louder than before.

Levi turned around the bend of the tree and gasped. A woman, maybe 40-45 years of age, was leaning against a tree, left hand bent at an unnatural angle meaning it was most likely broken, and she was bleeding from a gash in her head. Levi hurried to her side, crouching beside her and trying to get her to focus on him.

“Ma’am, ma’am, hi, can you tell me your name?” Levi asked as he assessed her for any other superficial wounds. Her shallow breathing could indicate a punctured lung or bruised ribs, She was barefoot, her feet were scratched slightly swollen, but nothing major.

“A-Alicia Hudson…” The woman said, gasped when Levi gently touched her left shoulder. “Everything hurts…”

Levi made a judgement call, it would be safer to call an ambulance to get them to the hospital, but at this time of the night, and the woman in the state she was, Levi didn’t know if they could afford to wait for the paramedics.

“I know Alicia, can I call you Alicia?” Levi asked, earning a small nod, “Ok, my name is Levi. I am a doctor ok, and I’m going to make sure that you are alright, do you understand?”

“Ye-Yes.”

“Good. Can you tell me how you got these injuries?” Alicia started to cry, heaving sobs that looked painful.

“My-my husband, he is usually a nice man, but sometimes he gets angry. I’ve never seen him as angry as he was today though.”

Levi felt him blood run cold. “Has he hit you before?”

Alicia bit her lip and shook her head, tear-stains running down her cheek.

“Ok, I am going to call a friend, and when he gets here, we will get you to the hospital, he lives really close by and it will be faster than a hospital. Does that sound good to you? Do you think you can walk just a little bit further?”

Alicia nodded her head again, trying to breathe through the pain as her left hand got jolted again.

Levi nodded, smiling kindly at her before speed-dialing Nico.

“Hey babe, make it home yet?”

“Nico listen to me.”

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m actually only about 10 minutes from your apartment, I thought I’d walk through the park, and long story short, there is a woman here who is injured and needs to be taken to the hospital. It’ll be faster for us to get her there than waiting for an ambulance. I will drop you a pin of my location, I need to get here fast, I don’t know if he is still looking for her or not.”

“He? Who’s he? Levi are you in danger?”

“Just get here fast please?”

“I’m already in the garage.”

“See you soon then.” Levi said before cutting the call and sending a pin to Nico.

“Ok Alicia, let’s see if we can do anything about that hand ok?” Looking around for something he could use as a temporary splint, Levi spotted a flat branch that looked long enough to do the job. He got the branch and gently went about wrapping her hand with his sweater, putting his coat around her because her body temperature was also colder than he liked. He was just finishing up when he heard Nico calling out for him.

“We are here Nico!” Levi called back. Within seconds, Nico materialized near them, taking his own quick assessment of the situation before looking over Levi.

“You ok?”

“I’m good. Help me get her to the car. Alicia, this is my friend Nico, he is also a doctor ok? We are going to try and stand now, do you think you can do it by yourself?”

“I don’t-I don’t know!” Alicia said, starting to cry again. Nico quickly crouched on the opposite side of her.

“Hey, it’s fine, you are doing great ok, we will both be right by your side.”Saying so, he glanced at Levi, indicating he wrap his arm around her waist while Nico took the brunt of the weight, wrapping her uninjured arm over his shoulders, and grasping gently at her side. “On three. One, two, three!” Both doctors got up at the same time, trying to minimize the jolt for Alicia, but she still cried out and would have crashed to the ground if both of them had not had tight holds on her.

“It hurts! Alicia said, and now that she was standing, both could see that one foot was on it’s tiptoe, as though she couldn’t put weight on it. Could that leg also be fractured?

Nico made his own assessment and decided it would be best to just bridal carry Alicia to the car, minimizing her putting weight or exacerbating any other injuries she might have. He conveyed the same to Alicia and Levi before bracing himself and lifting her. She cried out again, but was able to relax slightly when she realized Nico had a good hold on her.

Levi smiled at his boyfriend, so proud, and kinda impressed by the admittedly  impressive show of strength. Together the two of them made their way through the park and to Nico’s car. Levi got his keys from Nico’s pocket and unlocked the back door for Nico to sit down with Alicia before getting in the driver’s seat.

He drove straight to Grey-Sloan, trying to keep within the speed limit but also hearing Alicia’s continued whimpers of pain whenever they went over a speed bump. Nico called ahead to the hospital to tell them to be ready for them.

“I’m so sorry Alicia, I promise I just want to get you to the hospital quickly.” Levi apologized. When he spotted the hospital, he drove the car straight to the trauma center entrance.

Dr. Hunt and Link were waiting for them, and helped transfer Alicia to a gurney to take inside and get her treated. Before they could move though, Alicia called out “Wait!”

“Ma’am, I’m sorry but we really should tend to your injuries,” Link said softly, trying to explain.

“No, just hold on one second. Levi?”

Levi rushed to her side, smiling again as he held the hand she reached out to him.

“I’m here Alicia.”

“Thank you so much. I don’t know what would have become of me if you hadn’t found me when you did. Probably would have died in that park.”

“Hey don’t think like that. The important thing is that I did find you, and you are going to be just fine.” Levi reassured the older woman.

“God bless you.” she said before nodding to the other doctors to take her inside.

Levi felt his eyes tear up slightly as Nico came to stand behind him and wrap his arms around his waist.

“I’m so proud of you, you know.” He whispered in Levi’s ear. Levi scoffed, reaching up to wipe away his eyes before turning in Nico’s tight embrace.

“I just did what anyone would have done.”

“Maybe yes maybe no. Important thing is you were there and you probably did save her life. With winter setting in and her having no coat on, even if she had survived her injuries, the cold would have gotten her.”

“You think so?” Levi said, voice tinged with hope. He didn’t like to admit it out loud, but two years of near constant mocking had left Levi more insecure about his medical abilities than he let on.

“I know so.” Nico said before bending to give him a forehead kiss, following it with a proper kiss, smiling in turn when he felt Levi’s own lips curve up. “I love you.”

Levi laughed at that, moving to wrap his own arms around Nico’s shoulders as he tucked himself against Nico’s chin. “I love you too.”

The two of them stood there in each other’s arms for a few more moments before Nico convinced Levi to come home with home. After all, Levi deserved a reward for having saved Alicia today, and Nico was there to serve him as he wished.

#whumptober2019 #whump #grey's anatomy #levi schmitt #nico kim #schmico #ga fic #schimico fic #my fic #my writing #please let me know what you think of this fic

[iamknicole]

Fan

Bloodline Family Series

A/N: Warning.... this isn't gonna be pretty.

"I'll be fine," Haleigh laughed into the phone. She thanked the person holding the door for her, not bothering to pay much attention to who it was. "I come here all the time this late. I've gotta get these songs out, KoKo."

"Is Messiah in town?" Koda asked clearly frustrated with his sister.

"No, he's in Seattle. I'm fine," she reiterated stepping into the buildings elevator. "I'll call you when I'm done and headed home."

"You drove there?" Koda asked sucking his teeth. "Look, ima call Mama or Auntie A to come there with you."

She laughed at how overprotective Koda is.

" It's almost 1am, Mama is not about to bring the trips out with Daddy gone and Auntie is not about to get up. You know she probably sleep."

"Fine but be careful. And call me before you walk out that building. I don't care what time it is."

After Haleigh agreed to call her brother, she hung up the call just as the elevator came to a stop to let her out. Her head was down when she exited the elevator, sending a text to Messiah and Ardian.

To My Siah:

Great game, babe. Can't wait to see you 😍😚

To Baby Daddy Ardi:

I hope you and my babies are ok. I miss y'all. I'll pull up. And.... I'm sorry for just walking out on you. 😧😢💙

The engineer was waiting for her inside the studio. He left hey with a few instructions and well wishes before leaving her by herself. Checking her phone she found messages from Koda, Roman and Messiah but nothing from Ardian. Apart of her knew he wouldn't text her back but she hoped.

Three hours and two songs later, Haleigh felt better. All the stress, the thoughts and the emotions she had were out and in lyrical form. There was more written down in her notebook but this would do for now.

She gathered her things and shut everything down better heading out. She called Koda while she waited for the elevator not wanting to hear his mouth about not calling. The siblings talked ass she walked through the building and parking lot.

"Hey, you're Halo, right?"

Haleigh switched the phone from her right hand to her left to look at the stranger talking to her and smiled. He was standing at the back of her SUV with his hands in his pockets. The lights in the parking lot illuminated their faces. She ignored Koda telling her tii get in the car and confirmed her identity.

"This is so dope. I'm your biggest fan," the Caucasian male said happily. "Can I please get a picture with you? I thought that was you earlier but I wasn't sure."

"Yeah," she nodded going over to him, "Why didn't you speak? I would've spoke back."

"You were inn the phone, I didn't want to interrupt. You thanked me, that was enough."

Haleigh put Koda on hold to take the picture, or her phone in hey pocket then hugged the fan. "Make sure you tag me in that picture and make sure I look cute in it."

"Most definitely! Thank you again, Halo."

"You're welcome, hun. Have a good night."

Haleigh put the phone back to her ear before climbing up into her SUV. She switched their call to the car Bluetooth then pulled out.

"Stop bein so fuckin friendly, Hae."

"What? You wanted me to be mean and tell him no? It's not his fault this is the time he ran into me, Koda."

"It's 3 in the morning. He could've been a weirdo or some shit," Koda complained loudly.

"My fans are not weirdos."

"You've read the comments under your pictures, so I know that you know that's a lie, Haleigh."

Haleigh rolled her eyes cruising through the pretty much empty streets. "Well, it's done now and we can't undo it. And where is your fiance? Shouldn't you be in bed with her?"

"She's sleep. I would've been too but my sister took her ass too the studio this late at night."

"Well, I'm almost home now so go on and go to bed. I love you, big head."

Koda sighed hard. "Love you too. Text me when you get in the house and lock up tight."

"Sir, yes, sir, " she joked them disconnected the call.

Haleigh called Ardian as she walked to her porch. It felt odd not speaking to him for so long. She just wanted to hear his voice. And something didn't feel right. She stood on her porch waiting to hear his voice.

"I'm sleep, I call you back," he mumbled into the phone before hanging up.

Humming lowly to herself, Haleigh dropped her phone in her purse and unlocked her front door. Just as she turned the key, she heard footsteps behind her. Her purse feel and most of the contents spilled onto the floor. The next thing she knew she was being pushed into her house. She tripped from the force, catching her balance before she hit the floor. When she turned around she was face to face with the fan from the parking lot.

"You need to leave. Now!" She yelled rooted to her spot.

He smiled small. "I'm sorry, I just wanted to make sure you got in okay. It is pretty late."

Haleigh’s eyes burned wishing she had just stayed home or bright someone with her. She hated that she was avoiding Ardian, he would usually come with her. But then again, had she not been avoiding him she would have needed to go to the studio this late.

The fan took a step towards her, she took one step back.

"I'm sorry if I scared you. I just," he sighed, "I wanted to see you in."

"You've seen me in, now leave," she demanded moving back from his attempt to touch her.

He shook his head. The smile turning into a slight frown. "Don't be rude. I'm looking out for you, Halo. I love you. Don't you love me?"

"I don't know you! Leave!"

"You do. I'm Todd. I go to all your shows, I tweet you and tag you in anything I think you'd like."

The name clicked in her head. The few times she's gone through her comments his name came up a lot, he came to any signing he could and he was always popping up on her Twitter feed. Her management and her family knew about him as well.

"Did you follow me, Todd? That's not okay. I don't like that."

She figured yelling wouldn't work so she tried to reason with him. Silently praying it would work.

"No? I just wanted to protect you. Anyone could harm you, ya know? I was helping."

She nodded wiping her tears away. "Okay, you've helped. Now please leave."

Todd stepped forward, grabbing Haleigh to him before she could back away again. She struggled against him. "Don't I get a thank you?"

"Thank you," she said softly.

Fresh tears cascaded down her cheeks.

He stared into her eyes, a small smile on his face. Todd loved her. Loved her more than he should have. Without a second thought he kissed her, trying to ignore her fighting him off. Haleigh but his tongue when he pushed it roughly into her mouth prompting him to break the kids and push her away. As soon as her body hit the floor, Haleigh scrambled away from him leaving him checking his bleeding tongue and she spit his blood out as she ran to her room. Todd ran after her, getting to her closed and locked bedroom door and started to bang on the door.

Haleigh went into her walk in closet, locked it and started to search for her back up phone. Roman had given it to her months ago and her being the person she is tossed it somewhere completely forgetting about it.

She jumped as the banging got louder and couldn't control her crying. Her hands shook so bad that she could barely look through her things. When she found the phone there was a loud boom letting her know he'd broken the door down. Still her hands shook as she dialed the 911.

"911, what's your emergency?"

"There's someone in my house and they won't leave. Please help me," she said info a shaky and strained voice.

"What's your name and are you somewhere safe?"

"Haleigh Reigns. I'm in my closet."

"Is the person near you?" The operator ask trying to locate the call.

"Yes, he kicked down my bedroom door and he's trying to get in here." Haleigh screamed from Todd kicking at the double doors. "He's gonna get in! I need help!"

"Are you at 736 Keyes Drive?"

She screamed out again. "Yes!"

"Stay on the phone, sweetheart. The police are on the way. They're term minutes out."

It didn't matter that they were on the way, he'd gotten in. Haleigh was terrified and screaming. Todd was angry at her for running away. He snatched the phone and threw it at the wall, shattering it.

"Look at what you made me do, Halo. Why'd you make me do that?" He asked taking slow steps towards her then snatched her to him. She cried and screamed for help. "Stop screaming!"

"You're hurting me. Let me go."

"No! You think you're too good for me? Is that what you think?" He asked pushing her to the ground and straddling her. "We'll see about that."

Todd mumbled to himself then cocked his fist back fully prepared to hit her. Her cries almost stopped him. Almost. He punched her face and torso repeatedly ignoring her pain filled screams.

When the police came in and found Haleigh, Todd was gone. He left Haleigh unconscious, battered and bloody on her closet floor. One of the cops recognized her by the pictures around the house and cursed to himself. He knew her, he knew her parents even better. He volunteered to make contact with them while the paramedics rushed her to the hospital.

#bloodline family series #haleigh #ardian & haleigh #ro & kandice

[lostinthe-pines-blog]

Fate Doesn’t Write My Stories pt. 2 - A Best Friend

This is a multi-chapter story about MC, and Chris finding their way back together after years of being separated post graduation. Chris’s career takes him to Boston, a city he’d promised was her territory. But it’s not just Chris, fate has seemingly brought the entire Hartfeld crew back together.

NOTE: This is a fictional story based on Pixelberry’s Choices App. *Books The Freshman, The Sophomore, The Junior. I am not affiliated with Pixelberry nor do I own the rights to their original characters.

Tags: @jared2612

Traveling with children was not something Abbie would recommend, but she truly had no choice. Her job at the Los Angeles County Museum of Art was paying for her to fly crossed the country to negotiate a deal with the Boston Museum of Fine Arts. The deal an attempt to partner the coasts and work to display sister exhibitions in the future. The timing could not have been more perfect for Abbie as her best friend was finally returning stateside for a string of concerts along the East Coast. Abbie used this as an excuse to put her entire family on a plane and travel to the historical city. Tyler, finally able to cash in his vacation hours was happy to join knowing he’d be able to watch the twins while Abbie worked.

“You know I saw a post yesterday, I think Chris Powell just moved out to Boston!” Tyler said buckling his three year old twins into their soft plane seats. “Wonder if he even knows about Kaitlyn’s concert?” He looks a cross the aisle of the plane to his curly haired wife. Who smiles back at her small family.

“Maybe the two of you can meet up, I’m sure he’d love to catch up maybe you could invite him to the concert.” she smiles. The pair had drifted the furthest from their friend group after college. Leaving their dramas behind them they wanted to start a new life, and they had. Tyler was a video game designer working for Blizzard Entertainment and he was making a decent salary. More than enough to provide for their twins; both girls, who’d inherited their mothers dark skin but their fathers thick straight hair.  

“I’ll shoot him a message when we land” Tyler added before responding to the cries next to him. The girls were fighting over what movie to watch on the TV in front them. It was no secret that this would indeed be a long flight for the whole family.

-

A familiar patterned knock at the door breaks MC out of her trance. Spending a lot of time in the last 24 hrs staring at walls continuously lost in thought, her stare is finally broken.

“Zack!” she beams rushing to the door and wrapping her arms around him before his bright eyes even had time to focus on her. “Well hey!” he laughs returning her hug feeling tension rising off of her. The pair of them had remained the closest out of the small group of Hartfeld friends. “Good to see you too!” he kisses her cheek. After a long moment she leads him inside. Leaning against the kitchen counter Zack stares at his friend of 8 years as she jumps to sit up on the granite counter top. His heart worries for his friend, her demeanor not as bright as it was on his last visit only months before.

“Aren’t you excited to be stuck with me for the next 6 months?” he winks hoping to return his favorite smile to her face. “I’ve rented a small apartment just down the street!”

MC’s eyes widen and the sweet smile Zack longed to see creeps out. “Explain again what it is that brought you here?”

“A construction project out in Dorchester. Kind of a neighborhood “revamp”” he says using air quotes on his hands “It needed a leading architect and I’m happy to accept it as my first leading gig” he smiles blushing in pride.

“How’s the love life?” MC pushes playfully

“Completely nonexistent” Zack laughs “But it’s a good thing because now I’m open for a Bostonian to come and steal my heart. Maybe I’ll even find a Harvard grad.” Zack finishes dramatically arrogance and mockery in his voice “But enough about me, how is Carter! And you said you got a promotion? Tell me everything!” he inquires noticing instantly the change in her body language.

MC’s face still smiling but her body is closed off “Carter is good” she says simply. Instantly noticing the arch in Zack’s eyebrow. “Ugh, I hate to say it but I’m just getting bored. I know it sounds bad but Carter is almost too perfect! I feel like I’m always the one with insecurities and fears. While he helps me through them I feel guilty for always taking and never giving. He’s a well oiled machine that never breaks or even shows stress.” she uncomfortably changes the subject answering more of Zack’s questions “As far as the promotion I get to write... finally. It’s what I’ve been working toward the past two years.” she looks down now “But my two years of hard work is not what got me the position. Tonya my superior, she found my articles from college, the ones about Chris and the Knights. They offered me a position to write and edit in Sports.” her head hangs but she moves her eyes to catch Zacks stare.

“I see the problem” he nods but does what he does best and finds the light in the situation. “MC you’re getting to in your head about something that was four years ago. You love sports! Especially football! Maybe it wasn’t your goal to write about them but it won’t necessarily be that hard for you! And I’m sorry if I’m being blunt but last I checked in Chris was working with the Seahawks. Which puts him in Seattle on the other side of the country. So cheer up MC and let's celebrate! The rest of the year will be a win for both of us!” he cheers pulling her off the counter. “Kaitlyn's concert is next week, I can’t think of a better way to celebrate than with-” he is cut off as their gaze turns to the door the lock turning. MC’s roommate peering inside.

Molly Lorde a 27 year old with a tall and yet petite frame, pale skin and vibrant green eyes. Her wavy hair always seemed to land perfectly. She’d used her good looks to build a social media empire. Popularity and money had never been an issue for her, but she didn’t act like it. She was humble, and kind.

Four years ago MC had desperately moved to this new city only because it was her first option out. Becca had mentioned her cousin Molly a few times and offered the open lease at her apartment in Boston when she saw her friend desperate to leave Hartfeld behind as quickly as possible. 

As Molly opens the door she sees him, the one person who threatened her current title as MC’s best friend; Zack.

“Zackary! Come to steal my title?” she chimes “Or here to surrender!” she says pointing some very serious finger guns at the slender brunet.

Zack laughs and shoots finger guns back at her. Molly dodges the imaginary bullets and runs through the house Zack chasing her “You can take cover and hide but you’ll never have my title! MC is mine FOREVER!” as he yells he tackles her onto the couch the two of them laugh in unison.

“Not that i’m not flattered but, aren’t you both getting a little old for this?” MC smiles wedging herself between them on the couch.

The three of them catch up on life events, Molly and Zack recalling the first time they met in person. Having seen each other only over FaceTime calls they recognized each other instantly at Becca’s wedding 10 months earlier in Seattle. MC had chosen to send an expensive gift and letter to the wedding with her blonde roommate, out of sheer fear that going meant she might have to see Chris. As they talked about the wedding and memories MC tunes them out getting lost in the idea of what it would have been like if she’d been there. She writes the visual in her mind, the large ballroom pillars covered in gaudy white fabrics and twinkle lights. She sees herself in her favorite cream and blue dress standing with her friends sharing moments of laughter. Not going to the wedding was one of her biggest regrets especially after she found out Chris hadn’t attended at all.

The stories continue throughout the evening until Molly gets ready to head out again. Checking the time MC rolls her eyes knowing exactly where Molly is off too. She’d been making late night calls to a coworker's house for weeks now. Molly promised it was only for pleasure and nothing more, but last week Molly had gone three days without returning home. Zack yawns seeing this as a good time to leave. He offers to walk out with Molly to head back home leaving MC alone now to her thoughts.

Moving to the kitchen she plays some music as she cleans the dishes left behind. She allows Zack’s advice -to celebrate her promotion- to take over. She begins dancing and singing, completely off key. Feeling complete joy she continues to clean for the next hour before heading straight to bed. She plugs in her phone by her bedside. Playing quieter music now she stands in the dark stripping down and climbing into her welcoming sheets. She reaches for her phone to check her alarms one last time when she is greeted by a text from a name she hadn’t seen in years. She feels her chest tighten as she sits up startled staring at the text to afraid of opening it. She closes her eyes tight and tapping on the message.

“MC, I don’t know if this is even your number anymore. I felt it best that you know my job has brought me to Boston for at least a year. I wanted you to hear this from me and no one else. I hope life has treated you well. All my best. -Chris P.”

MC screenshots the message and only seconds after reading it has already been sent off to Zack. Once it’s delivered she goes back to the daunting words reading it again and again. Chris Powell had forced MC out of his life in an alcohol influenced moment of anger and pain from an injury that stole his career from him. MC spent a year mourning him before even approaching the idea of dating. She had not only lost the man she thought she’d love forever, she also lost the vision of her future. MC chose not to respond tonight. She was too tired and she had to be at work early to receive her first assignment. She drifted to sleep quick but her overly stressed subconscious only chose to bring up memories of years before. Real life memories turning to nightmares.

#choices #Chris Powell #mc x chris #The Freshman #the sophomore #the junior #the freshman fan fiction #choices fan fiction #xoempine #chris x mc

[johnny-writes]

Long bio: Rebecca was born to a family of three persons. His father is a financial market operator, her mother has a business degree and have exerted the profession, as a manager.

Please note this is her “standard verse”, which I’ll be using in my original novel. Due to not having the results I wanted when I made verses, I don’t do verses for my OCs, I prefer to consider them more like “actors”, fitting in a setting. Any backstory in said settings will be a derivative of their “standard verse” backstory.

Rebecca was born into a family that many people would consider odd. His father was a financial operator born in Syria, to a Druze family – tempestuous, impulsive, loving risks more than anything, a perfect man for the financial market; her mother was a business graduate from a Jewish family in New York, while herself was known for betting on safe investments and actually making them profitable.

At first, they were like salt and pepper, a controversial salt and pepper – there was no way they could have worked, but they did and they lived in a marriage that was more of an exchange: Mark saw in Ruth a challenge and Ruth saw in Mark a chance for financial safety (being raised in a conservative environment, she preferred to be a housewife and only went to college to get married, to which she failed).

The marriage with an Arab more or less alienated her from her religious community, but not from her business community – on the contrary, everyone there “shipped” them. So they decided to have a kid.

Young Rebecca was born and was spoiled until she was seven. Until that age, she never had anything lacking; this made her build a confident persona, with her father encouraging her adventurous spirit; she hurt herself a lot in the parks (injuries like scrapping the knees and brushing poisonous ivy), much to her mother’s despair. Surely, her parents debated a lot on the best way to raise her.

The first bad thing that happened in her life was when they had to live under their means. Mark made some really bad financial decisions and they had to live like poor people for a year. They still kept their appearances, living in their affluent house, but they had to make more visits to the dollar stores than they’d like. Mark got into lots of debt to pay for bills, while waiting until he could reestablish his money and fights with Ruth were constant. Rebecca, on the other hand, didn’t let this bother her – in fact, after the bad times were gone, she was even more confident, because she believed that, as long as they stayed together.

But, things changed after that. Thinking that Ruth couldn’t give her the achievements he wanted, so he started an affair. They were on a trip to Seattle, and the scandal blew up right in front of little Rebecca. Every single night, when they returned, there was a discussion, and Rebecca felt powerless with everything. In the end, she started to think it was her fault, and she tried to do something about it, by walking into their fights, looking weak and helpless.

It worked, her parents stopped fighting in front of her. But it wasn’t enough to avoid their divorce. Still, Rebecca unconsciously adopted this persona, of looking as weak as possible so she could make people stop fighting. She moved with her mother to Seattle, a place far away from New York, to start anew in a travelling agency. Her pride didn’t allow her to accept Mark’s alimony and for five years, she prohibited contact with him.

These years were bad for Rebecca. She just shrunk and her mother enabled this to her, so she could set her up in ways that would make her growth to be just like her, always betting on safe strategies. For that reason, she rarely took extracurricular activities, rarely left her house, only stayed there, doing things like watching TV or reading (she definitely preferred to watch TV than reading, she looks like a bookworm, but she isn’t).

From the period 11-14 years, it was a phase that she simply got…quiet. Not fully muted, but quiet. She talked only when necessary, but could spend days without saying a word if nobody talked to her. Her mother never saw any problem with it, and actually encouraged it, because she looked less and less like her father.

After five years under this, Rebecca had terrible people’s skills. Her mother’s desire to make her look less and less than her father turned her into a malnourished, excessively introverted, friendless, girl that was scared of everyone that wasn’t her mother. She suffered few attempts at bullying because her mother caught them and nipped them on the bud. She was overprotective and Rebecca became a pushover.

Meanwhile, her father returned to her life. He was married to the woman and had a kid with her – the kid was ok but the mother was on her last legs because of cancer. No money in the world could save her. They started to fight again and Rebecca again tried to look as less intimidating as possible.

Her father, seeing her in that state went ballistic, making her run away. He hated the fact she looked so meek and weak and they discussed even more; seeing her (subconscious) strategy failed, she just wanted to kill herself. It was a really bad discussion, but a few broken cups.

During the following weeks, her mutism only got worse, she just didn’t talk in the school anymore, not even to the teachers, while her father’s new wife died. It was a heavy time for everyone involved, her father’s boss had to threaten firing him if he didn’t take the time out, so he could go to Seattle to solve his issues, allowing Rebecca to finally meet her half-brother.

Meanwhile, Rebecca had a really rough depressive episode: while she was crossing the street, she saw a stolen car being chased by a police car. She looked at the car and she…just…stopped. In the middle of the street. She felt her life was going to end so she just accepted her life was going to end. It was a good for nothing life.

The car made a sharp turn at the last second, sparing Rebecca, even if it was a close call. The officer stopped the chase, in order to attend Rebecca. At first he was livid because she cost him a case, but his expression changed when he saw Rebecca’s dead eyes. He asked her about her parents and she refused to reply; he asked in sign language as well, but she also refused to reply; he asked again for his parents and this time she wrote him her home address. The policeman brought her to her house and warned her parents that if they didn’t do something, he’d call the CPS on them.

After he left, Rebecca’s parents had the hardest talk of their life. They agreed that they were kind of crappy parents and decided to work on her. They finally got her to the therapist. It took a while, but she slowly started to abandon her mutism, that evolved into a stutter. It was a progress anyway and her therapist recommended that she tried something more impersonal at first, like internet (and she insisted that they left her have her privacy while navigating through it).

Thus, she started her online adventures. Her parents told her that she could be wise and so Rebecca started to use the internet. At first, she started using forums and other sites, aimed at kids, so she could keep up with the stuff she liked. Forums were a good way for her to communicate, due to the non-immediate communication, it was good for her to give her time to organize her thoughts, so she ended up placing a lot of passion in her replies.

One of these forums was from a cartoon that she liked, about a group of futuristic robots stranded in a medieval fantasy setting. It wasn’t the most popular cartoon, but she liked it. She just loved making posts there, being supportive to all; she also hated drama. But one person called her attention most: a non-native poster. She liked to read his stuff, just as anyone else, and never was bothered by his spelling/grammar errors, unlike anyone else. She was known as the girl with a flower avatar.

One day, she returned home from a bad day at school. Another subpar presentation where her stuttering got her again. What could she do? She was anxious and sweating. She wanted to take a shower, but the building would be without water for the day, due to the need of fixing an issue. Thus, she spent time on the internet.

She ignored all the drama posts when she received a direct message from one of the most famous posters, the one that produced those essays in mangled language. She never had a problem with him, but he asked her for her help, in order to stop having people complaining about his English.

Things got complicated for her when he asked to use the copy-paste. All he asked to do was to copy and paste his latest essay thus she could proof-read it. A simple task, after all, everybody knew how to press Ctrl + C, Ctrl + V right?

Not Rebecca.

She never used the word processor to write down her posts, she just used the text box to write her posts. And whenever she had a school assignment to use the word processor, she just copied word by word, never bothering to use the shortcut (and because the teachers never explained anyway).

She didn't know how to copypaste. And when she asked what was that, he was shocked. Nevertheless, he explained, in an obvious way, but she still didn't get it. Since the day was terrible already, she just broke down and started to type a long message in caps lock, full of grammar errors. She called herself the worst student ever because she couldn't follow a simple instruction.

Expecting the worse, she braced herself to hear him berating her, for being useless and stupid. But it never came. Instead the boy in the other side told her that if she was the worst student ever, he was the worst teacher ever.

Out of all reactions, that wasn't what Rebecca expected. She never had seen someone as compassionate as him for no reason at all. Surely, her therapist was a lovely person but she was paid for it, and her parents only tried to be comprehensive after everything went downhill. But he, he was being kind to her with no reason at all.

The result was that the post-essay was published without revision and people complained and he didn't care. Rebecca still posted a lot, defending him claiming that grammar wasn't that important and, since she had a good reputation in the forum (of which she was actually unaware of), people stopped picking on him.

Rebecca continued exchanging messages with the user known as MrcsGrz. Soon, they learned that they had a lot in common, they loved the same shows, listened to the same songs and had similar opinions. The forum's activity started to wane, but whenever they decided to do new things, they did it together, be either joining a new MMPORG or a new social network.

He was someone that Rebecca could trust, he never berated her, he always tried to be the most comprehensive and kind possible. With that, she started to open to him, talking to him about her problems with her parents, her social awkwardness and even her near-death experience. In exchange, he opened to her about his issue with cults and how he felt he wasted a part of his life.

She didn't consider herself a good writer, but whenever she thought of her internet friend, she couldn't help but to smile. And, not only that, but she felt homework and exams were easier to go through when she thought of him; the idea of meeting him online after she did her chores encouraged her to do them with diligence.

In the meantime, she actually started making friends at school, who accepted her for what she was. They talked a lot of issues, like cartoons and school work, but when they talked about boys, Rebecca always said that she wasn't interested in talking like that. One day, one of her friends teased that she might be in love already, that's why none of the boys were interested in her (she didn't even go to the prom).

At first, she thought that to be preposterous. There was no way anyone could ever love her...not even her internet friend. The moment that thought intruded her mind, she felt her world being crushed. She excused her friends and actually went to the bathroom to cry. She felt so much despair when she thought that and went home devastated.

She didn't want to admit, but she was deeply and hopelessly in love with him. In love with someone whom she didn't know what he looked like, living thousands of miles away from her. In love with someone who belonged to a completely different culture and context. In love with someone she shouldn't be in love with.

She booted up the computer, waiting...just waiting for something to happen. Just waiting, at their personal private chat room for him to come. She felt so much fear, so much despair the moment he entered the room and started typing.

They exchanged the standard courtesies, until he typed that he wanted to tell her something important. Being pessimistic, she knew it was something bad. Her despair gave way to immeasurable surprised when he told her he was in love with him.

She got up from her chair and started to pace around, drank six cups of water and breathed heavily. He was in love with her and he told her first. It made no sense how happy and confused she was.

After ten minutes, she returned to the screen, telling him that she was also in love with him, in love with his patience and kindness, in love with everything that meant him.

And it felt light, like a weight being liberated from her chest. In the end, they felt the same for each other, and they understood that their love couldn't be consumated due to the distance between each other.

He offered to move close to her, but she refused and they started to consider the costs and they decided the most sensible thing to do was to continue being friends and look out for relationships.

But she knew nothing would compare to their relationship. During that day, she learned the name of her friend was Marcos. Just like him, she nurtured a deep feeling that they would meet one day and that, if circumstances were different, they'd be together.

And this wasn't ignored by certain entities...

#muse: rebecca #bios

[90simaginesandfanfics]

Cradle Broken Glass - Chapter Seventeen

Layla pushed away from Eddie, who was still in a daze from what had just happened. She looked to her left to find Jeff standing there, his eyes wide, and looking like he was about to faint. She had no idea what to do, and just decided to stand there until someone broke the silence. Eddie looked up towards Jeff, and then looked away. She decided she needed to leave. “I’m… just going to leave then.” She said, so quietly she was surprised anyone even heard her. She wrapped her arms around herself and made her way across the parking lot and back into the back entrance of the club, leaving the two men staring at each other. The club was pretty much empty when she made her way inside, apart from a group of guys drinking by a table and the bartender. No Phil in sight. She walked to the front entrance and outside to the front of the club, looking for Phil’s car. It wasn’t there. She realised he had left her. She started to walk down the dully lit street, trying to find her way to the nearest bus stop. Once she found one after 30 minutes of walking, she waited for a bus to arrive, and was relieved when she found out that the bus’s route took her 10 minutes from her apartment. On the way back, looking out the window at the derelict streets of Seattle, she wondered what was happening to her. She was slowly spiralling out of control. She had cheated on Phil way too many times for her to even pretend she was innocent. She was just as bad as him and she had no way of denying that. Phil had probably left the club with another woman, and yet Layla couldn’t bring herself to feel upset over it, knowing that she was no better than him. And now Jeff knew too. She couldn’t hide it anymore. Jeff was probably going to tell Stone and then Stone would tell Chris and Chris would tell the whole of Seattle. She was fucked. ***** Layla wiped the counters down during her shift, grateful that it hadn’t been too busy. She was just about to start wiping down the booths when she heard the door open and people walk in. She turned around and nearly fainted when she saw the whole Mookie gang walk in, minus Dave, along with Soundgarden. “Hello Miss Layla, table for 8 assholes please.” Chris said loudly, trying to imitate her English accent and failing terribly. She laughed nervously and showed them to the only booth that would fit that amount of people, in the corner of the diner. They all took their seats and she took out her notepad and pen, ready to write their orders. She noticed that neither Eddie or Jeff looked at her the whole time, and both answered quietly. Her nerved began to grow, knowing that they had most likely talked about the whole thing. She wondered if they both hated her. After writing down their orders, she went to the kitchen to pin them on the rack, then continued to wipe down tables. “Miss Layla, won’t you keep us company?” Chris shouted again, still not being able to master a British accent. She smiled nervously and made her way over to them and sat on the edge of the booth, trying to make herself as small as possible. “You’re quiet today, what’s got your panties in a knot.” Stone said, making Chris laugh. Surprisingly enough, Stone’s laughing twin Jeff didn’t join in, causing Stone to give him a funny look. Layla didn’t want to tell him that Eddie taking her panties off had got them in a knot, she knew it was best to lie. “Just tired is all.” She replied, not exactly lying since she had been up all night arguing with Phil. He was convinced that she had been going on dates with one of the diner chefs, Danny. She had spent all night proving to him that she wasn’t. If only he had realised that Danny wasn’t who he should’ve worried about. After a while of sitting next to the guys, she went to get their food. Once she got them everything, she excused herself to go clean the back, and made her way into the back hallway. For a few minutes it was quiet, and she got on with her job. However, after she heard a door open behind her, she knew her peace was going to be interrupted. She turned to face whoever had followed her in. However, before she could even fathom what was going on, someone had grabbed her face and placed their lips on hers, kissing her with ferocity. She knew it was Eddie. She grabbed him by the hips and angled his body closer, kissing him back just as passionately. She didn’t care that he could feel the size of her body and weight, pressed up against him. He made her feel like none of that mattered. Layla pulled away, out of breath, and looked up at him. “You should probably go back now.” She said, in a daze. “Yeah.” He replied, hazy too, and stared at her lips. He leaned down and planted a softer kiss on her lips, before he turned and made his way out the door, back to his booth. After a couple of minutes, she did the same, and started cleaning the coffee machine at the front. While doing so, she felt a pair of eyes on her. Expecting it to be Eddie, she turned around, only to find him with his head drooped as he ate some fries. Her eyes connected with Jeff’s. What scared her the most, though, was the fact that he was glaring at her. He turned back to his food unnoticed, but she couldn’t help but feel sick, knowing one of her best friends was looking at her that way. After hours of the boys lounging around and eating everything on the menu, they all started to leave. She said goodbye to them one by one, only nodding at Eddie shyly as he left. Just before they all made their way out the door however, she heard someone call to the guys from her left. “Hey guys, I’m gonna hang back for a bit, I’ll catch up with you later.” Layla felt dread crawl through her body as she recognised Jeff’s voice. After they all left, she turned to him, waiting for him to speak. “Layla, what are you doing?” Jeff said in a quiet, almost disappointed tone which made her feel so much shame. “What do you mean?” She replied. She knew what he was referring to, but didn’t want to talk about it. “Layla, I’m going to talk to you honestly because I love you, and you’re one of my closest friends, but Eddie has also become one of my closest friends, and I want to look out for him as much as I do you.” “What are you getting at?” She answered, trying to look at him directly. “Layla, we all know what’s gonna happen. You’re going to hurt him, because you’re not going to let go of Phil, no matter how much anyone wants you too. And I don’t want Eddie getting fucking hurt, just because he’s naïve enough to believe he has a chance. I love you Layla, but I don’t want either of you to hurt each other, which is exactly what’s happening and what’s going to continue to happen.” He finished, looking guilty for everything he just said. No matter how guilty he felt, however, Layla knew he was right. Even if she admitted that she wanted Eddie and he wanted her back, she would never leave Phil. She couldn’t. She wasn’t brave enough. And Eddie being an up and coming musician, he would soon find someone to replace her, and she would end up alone again. And most of all, she didn’t want to hurt him. She knew she had to finish whatever was going on before she caused him anymore pain. “I know. Thank you.” She simply replied, unable to put into words to Jeff what she wanted to say back. He nodded, still with a sullen expression and walked out the door. ***** Well, what did you guys think of that. Do you think Jeff was right to say that to Layla, and is he being a good friend to them both? And what do you think Layla is going to do now?

#eddie vedder #eddie vedder fanfiction #eddie vedder fanfic #grunge #grunge fanfic #grunge fanfiction #pearl jam fanfic #pearl jam fanfiction #pearl jam #fanfiction #fanfic #imagine #imagines #oneshot #cradle broken glass #soundgarden #alice in chains #nirvana

[1310miles]

Thirty One

Just days before the Baltimore Marathon, I was considering not doing it. We had such a busy fall season. I was exhausted from my volunteer work, previous marathon in Wyoming, and all the activities my family was part of. My head hurt thinking about coordinating and preparing my parents to take over for me and manage the lives of my over-scheduled kids while Brett and I traveled to Maryland.

On the other hand, taking a little vacation with Brett seemed like a good break and I had paid for everything already. Plus, I would be visiting my cousin and her family, and my aunt and uncle, so that was important.

Whereas most marathons are on Sundays, Baltimore’s race was scheduled for Saturday. Brett and I arrived on Friday and did the typically quick and uninspired expo visit to get my materials and then we relaxed in our hotel for the rest of the day.

Leading up to the race I had been so busy that I hadn’t put a lot of thought into my strategy or plan for the run. The hill profile was daunting: a long ascent over the first five miles, then back down for five, flat for eight, and then another gradual ascent for six. It’s very hard to anticipate how bad I will feel after a five mile hill, and equally difficult to know the toll a five mile descent will take. Also, a major long hill after mile 18 is very dubious. I could either feel great and storm up it or it could be so bad that it kills me.

In the morning I got up and put on my gear. I also drew the hill profile on my arm like I did in Seattle. Brett and I worked out his plan for spectating, and although it would be easy because he would be solo, we didn’t have a rental car, so transportation could be a challenge. He briefly woke up to tell me good luck, and in the dark hours of the morning I headed to the race. I had been warned that although it was only a mile to the starting line, Baltimore isn’t very safe, so I took a taxi. The poor driver had no idea that there was a marathon that day, so I felt bad telling him how messed up traffic was going to be for the next eight hours.

The starting line was outside of Camden Yards. I wanted the driver to get me as close as possible, but I was getting nervous seeing lots of runners going the opposite direction from where I thought we were supposed to go. I finally told him just to pull over, and I got out and asked where a group of people were headed. They looked at me like an idiot and said “the starting line of course.” I was very confused and concerned, but then a nice person said, “They are going to the 5k. You might be looking for the marathon start, which is around the corner by Camden Yards.” Thank you!

I was there pretty early, and not a lot of runners had gathered yet. The ballpark was open in one area for the use of the bathrooms, which was a welcome change from portapotties. Interesting to see inside the famous stadium too. The sun started to come up and after the announcements and anthem, we lined up and the race began.

To get out of the downtown area, we encountered our first hill. Then we headed straight for a long stretch up to the furthest west point of the course. Along this road I saw the neighborhoods that The Wire was based on. They must have filmed them on location because it looked just as it had on tv.

At mile three we turned into the zoo. The path got more narrow and went downhill a bit. This area was very scary for the wheelchair athletes who were trying to wind their way among the runners. Without space and with too much momentum, they were dangerously close of crashing. It was very unfortunate that many runners were wearing headphones and couldn’t hear the LOUD shouting of all the rest of us telling them to get over or to make room. It was very frustrating and could have been a terrible accident many times over.

Down in the zoo, we had a great group of spectators. A few zookeepers had escorted animals onto the course for us to see. Two penguins stood watching us, as well as a bunny, badger and kookaburra. It was so cute, but all I kept thinking was that those animals must think humans are crazy.

Out of the zoo and we begin the downhill segment of the race. It was a steep downhill, steep enough for me to really gain some speed. I had also run the first five miles fast, keeping a pace around 8:30 minute miles, so with the downhills I really started making my time look amazing. I was feeling great, and was starting to think this would be my day to possibly get a personal record. The weather was perfect- mild temperatures and the sun behind clouds. I had to keep in mind however, that the end was going to have a long hill and I would need to save some energy for that.

Again I had broken the race mentally into three segments of 8 miles. Around the end of the first segment, I saw Brett for the first time. Then we ran a little south of the city, around the harbor, and doubled back. As my loyal readers know, I like doubling back so I can watch the other runners. I was still feeling great and was pretty far ahead of the 3:45 pace group, which had me on pace to get my Boston marathon qualifying time. I came around back toward our hotel and saw Brett again at mile 13. At this point I told him that I was running too fast and would be slowing down soon. Also, I told him to have a shirt and hat ready for my change at the next spot I would be seeing him at mile 18.

I did start to slow down, both intentionally and because the end segment of the hills was upon me. They were really brutal, mostly because of the trauma of already running 16 miles and from the up and down hills in the beginning. Weeks before while I was volunteering at the Chicago marathon, I saw a few runners with cramps in their legs that prevented them from finishing the race, and I know some runners that this has happened to as well. I’ve always thought “no way that would happen to me, I would be able to finish any race.” But this time I was starting to worry. My hamstrings did start cramping and I had a moment of doubt. At that point I slowed my speed and I started accepting Gatorade at every aid station in hopes of replenishing whatever I could.

Mile 18 came and went and no Brett. I wasn’t completely heartbroken, as I would have been in other races when the kids were with him. And I wasn’t worried about him because I could tell that this race had traffic in Baltimore completely destroyed. There were back ups at every intersection I passed, and I saw a line of cars that went about two miles along one of the major streets. Also, one driver was laying on his horn for so long that I didn’t hear him stop, I only ran far enough away that I couldn’t hear the horn anymore.

The only issue with not seeing Brett was that I couldn’t change my shirt and hat. I will say the temperature had started to rise and the sun had come out. I wasn’t miserable but I would have benefited from the fresh outfit.

Around mile 20 we got to the northeast point of the course and we ran around a small lake. This was a good moment for me because I could see where I was starting and where I would be finishing for this mile. I realize now that at the end of the marathon, one of the biggest challenges is just not being able to conceptualize the distance. You lose perspective because six miles doesn’t seem like much compared to how much you’ve already run, but it is a lot. You expect the miles to go along faster, but they don’t. They are the same length as any other mile. By actually seeing the entire mile laid out in front of me, it made it much easier to get through.

But as soon as that was over, we were hit with another steep hill. This time I just had to walk it. I was exhausted and having a hard time making progress on the flat parts of the course. These end hills were just insulting.

By mile 23 and 24 excitement was building on the course. There was a lot of spectator support throughout the whole race, but these last few miles were very enthusiastically attended. The neighborhoods were really nice and it made the time go faster. I really get a lot of inspiration during the end of the race when people tell me I can do it or that they are impressed. I know they are strangers and they say it to everyone, but when you make eye contact with a spectator and they tell you something encouraging, it really can improve your outlook.

Running along at this point I also had a moment when I realized I was going to be done with 31 marathons! It really hit me that it’s such a huge accomplishment and that I’m getting so close to my goal.

Brett did find me again on the course, just when I thought I probably wouldn’t see him until the end. Turns out that he did have traffic problems with his cab and he literally missed me by one minute at the last stop. At this point, I didn’t see the benefit of changing clothes. I was trying like heck to get to the finish line by 4:00 and I didn’t want to waste any time.

Again, those last two miles are not easy. You think you can just gut it out but time stands still. I wanted to get in at four hours, and it hurt, but I did speed up as best as I could. A nice downhill into the city was also very helpful. I crossed the finish line and was so very pleased to be done, regardless of my time. In the end, my time was excellent as well, so that made for an amazing race day. I was so very happy that I decided to do the race and of course that I also got to see my Maryland family.

[ahoyshippers]

Growing Family Montage

OK, so back story time. I'm on some good medication that is giving me some interesting dreams. Very vivid and they are playing out like movies. I am also slightly obsessed with Supernatural (like most of you sinners on this site) and I had a dream that played out like a movie montage, with music and scene changes and seeing the characters speaking with out hearing them and all! it was awesome and i felt like sharing, I also apologize if this sucks, this will be my first written post with any substance, but maybe this will give the the confidence i need to start writing fan fiction. The montage will be playing to Welcome to the Black Parade by My Chemical Romance. Lyrics are written out and the actions of the characters are in ( parentheses ). Enjoy. Ps I would listen to the song after reading and imagine everything playing out. ******** Girl reader X Dean X Sam X and Cas ******** INTRO: You have joined the boys a few months back. And as the new additions on Team Free Will, you kick ass. during your ass kicking, you and Sam hit it off (obviously cause Dean and Cas are an item.... Duh). Life with the guys is great, you and Sam always side together and shut Dean down when he argues that the Harry Potter movies are better then the books. You love showing Cas all of the fandom(s) you belong to and forcing him to watch your favorite movies and TV shows since he doesn't sleep, you also give him a wider view of music that he has been limited to. Dean hates that last part. You and Dean bicker over your taste of music, while you do like the classics that Dean cant get enough of, you have a special place in your heart for your "emo music". But by Chuck, one day you will make him show some respect for Panic at the Disco, 30 Seconds to Mars, My Chemical Romance, etc. Sam is head over heels for you. After many months full of love Cas makes both of you aware that you are carrying the next Winchester inside of you. The bunker becomes the home no one thought it could be, the guys are thrilled, Sam for being a father, Uncle Dean cant wait to teach him/her all sorts of skills for being a bad ass, and Cas has sworn to be his/her guardian angel. The following months seem to fly by, the baby has a bunker across the hall from you and Sam. The two of you want to keep the gender a surprise. Y'all paint the nursery walls with wardings, and it actually looks nice, very artsy. Sam and Cas go over board during baby shopping, buying EVERYTHING in bulk. Life is good. For so long smiles come easy and laughter echos down the bunker halls. Home Sweet Home. "Check this out, there have been five deaths in the past two weeks in Seattle. The vics are found drained of all blood and are dumped in ally ways." Sam says during breakfast " If its a nest the vampires are being very sloppy, we may have a rouge one running around" Sam looks at Dean with a questioning look on his face. "Cas and I can check it out Sam, its a days drive, we stake the vamp, will be back in five days tops." Dean says with a knowing smile on his face. Cas just nods his head. "Oh no! Sam you are going" you say waddling in the dining area. You feel like a beached whale and a turtle could beat you in a race at your top speed. You take a seat next to him and catch your breath. "You have been cooped up here with me for so long and you are too stressed. Get out there kill you a vamp or two and get some energy out. If I could right now you can bet your ass I would be packing my bag now." Sam tries to argue but you hold up your hand. " The fat lady has spoken, you are going. Dean make sure he leaves with you." you say to the older Winchester. Dean just laughs and shakes his head. " Y/N what if the baby comes while we are gone? Its too close to the due date for me to be running out and going hunting." Sam says almost pleading. "I don't want anything to happen to the two of you." You grab Sam's hand " Babe, all I can do at this point is sleep, eat, piss, repeat. Literally. I don't even have the energy to make it though a movie or book with out falling asleep. Please, for me, get out there kill some vamps in a very gruesome way so that you can come home with a story so I can live vicariously through you. You need this, and I need this. The baby wont be here for another two weeks. and if anything happens I will call. We also have an angel on our side." you turn and smile at Cas. "I will fly in if anything happens Sam, you have my word" Cas says. you turn back to Sam. "I love you, you are going and you are going to enjoy it damn it!" you finish with a laugh. An hour later the guys are loading up Baby and will be leaving soon. You made sandwiches for the road and promised Dean your famous homemade apple pie if he can get them back safely in four days instead of five. "Challenge accepted!" Dean says giving you a hug, he steps back and rubs your large tummy "Stay in there a bit longer Little Bad Ass, Uncle Dean will be back soon, You be good to your mother." As if responding to his words the baby kicks his hand. Dean smiles from ear to ear. He is going to be a great Uncle. Cas comes and places his hand on you tummy. "The child is eager to arrive. Healthy at the moment. It is happy as always." he smiles, removes his hand from your stomach and places it on your head. You feel a cooling sensation flow through your body. Chills run up your arms. You sigh in relief, he sensed your back aches and tense muscles. Using his grace he eased your aches. "Thank you Cas." you say with a sigh and pull him in for a hug. You love his awkward hugs. Sam pulls you in for a kiss, it is long and soft. "Last chance to change your mind, I could stay" he says in between kisses. "Not a chance Winchester, you are going" you say taking a step back holding his hand. He raises your hand and kisses it. "I love you, we will be back soon" with that he leans down taking your belly in his hands and kisses it all over " Daddy will be home soon" the little one kicks for his father too. Sam rises and kisses you once more. then they are off. Off saving people and killing things, the good old family business. A few hours have passed, the bunker is quiet and you find yourself in the kitchen eating Dean's "secret" ice cream stash. Rubbing your tummy you start to sing your favorite song in a soft almost lullaby voice. knowing the only one who can hear you is you child. When I was a young boy My father took me into the city To see a marching band He said, "Son, when you grow up Would you be the savior of the broken The beaten and the damned?" (Cut to a view of the boys driving in Baby, Dean at the wheel, Sam shotgun, Cas in the back, they are talking casually) He said, "Will you defeat them Your demons, and all the non-believers The plans that they have made?" (Dean says something that makes Sam smile, he is relaxing) "Because one day I'll leave you A phantom to lead you in the summer To join the black parade." (cuts back to you in the bunker, humming the lines again, eating spoon fulls of rocky road) (When I was a young boy) (My father took me into the city) (To see a marching band) (He said, "Son, when you grow up) (Would you be the savior of the broken) (The beaten and the damned?") Suddenly you feel a wet sensation trickle down your legs You look down at the pool building at your feet, you feel faint, you drop the spoon and brace yourself against the counter. You mouth "holy shit!" [ MUSIC KICKS IN] Sometimes I get the feeling she's watching over me And other times I feel like I should go (You scramble for your phone, it fumbles in your hands as you dial the number) And through it all, the rise and fall, the bodies in the streets And when you're gone, we want you all to know (You put the phone to your ear, and you walk as fast as you can to your room) We'll carry on ( Cut to Sam: he answers the phone, his smile turns to a look of shock) We'll carry on And though you're dead and gone believe me (Dean glance over at Sam with concern) Your memory will carry on We'll carry on (Sam turns to Dean and mouths "Y/N's water broke") And in my heart I can't contain it (Sam doesnt even have to turn to see that Cas is already gone) A world that sends you reeling from decimated dreams (you are changing into clean clothes when you turn to see Cas in your door way) Your misery and hate will kill us all So paint it black and take it back (He grabs your already packed bags and leads you to the garage) Let's shout it loud and clear Defiant to the end we hear the call (seated in the car you wince at your first contraction, Cas holds your hand as he speeds off to the hospital) To carry on (cuts to you bursting through the hospital doors, your face shows you are in pain) We'll carry on And though you're dead and gone believe me (nurses put you in a wheel chair, take your bag and rush you behind large double doors) Your memory will carry on We'll carry on (Cas is stopped my a nurse from entering behind you, he stands and watches you disappear around a corner) And though you're broken and defeated (Cas pulls out his phone and takes a seat) Your weary widow marches (Sam is on the other line, worry showing on his face) On and on we carry through the fears ( you are in the hospital bed, white knuckling the sheets balled up in your hands) Oh, oh, oh Disappointed faces of your peers ( Sam is running fingers through his hair, feet tapping, he is so nervous) Oh, oh, oh Take a look at me cause I could not care at all (Dean looks over at his brother, he has a smile on his face) Do or die, you'll never make me (Sam and Dean crash through the entry doors to the hospital in a full sprint) Because the world will never take my heart Go and try, you'll never break me (Sam reaches the counter and you see him speaking to the nurse) We want it all, we wanna play this part (he turns and runs down the hall, not even looking back for Dean and Cas) I won't explain or say I'm sorry ( Cas grabs Dean's hand and they take a seat in the waiting room) I'm unashamed, I'm gonna show my scars (Sam runs into your room, you smile as he grabs your hand and kisses you forehead) Give a cheer for all the broken Listen here, because it's who we are (you are covered in sweat, and cry out in pain, still holding Sams hand) I'm just a man, I'm not a hero Just a boy, who had to sing this song (nurses and the Dr, surround you, you push) I'm just a man, I'm not a hero (Sam kisses your hand, brushes your hair our of your face) I don't care (you are panting, red faced) We'll carry on (Throwing your head back you cry out) We'll carry on (Sam looks at the Dr with a huge smile on his face) And though you're dead and gone believe me Your memory will carry on We'll carry on (You too look at the Dr, the bundle in his hands, you start to cry tears of joy) And though you're broken and defeated Your weary widow marches (A nurse hands you a clean baby swaddled in a blanket) Do or die, you'll never make me (Sam enters the waiting room with a smile on his face and red rimed eyes still shimmering with tears) Because the world will never take my heart Go and try, you'll never break me (Dean strides over to him and pulls him into a big hug) We want it all, we wanna play this part (We'll carry on!) Do or die, you'll never make me (Your boys enter your room, they are ecstatic when they see you holding the baby wrapped in a light pink blanket) Because the world will never take my heart Go and try, you'll never break me (Sam takes his daughter into his arms and everyone gathers around her) We want it all, we wanna play this part (this small room filled with the love of a family) Carry On

#supernatural fanfiction #fluffy #sam winchester #dean winchester #sam x reader #babyfever #first time #montage #carry on #team free will

[silverhands-etcetera]

Up On the Roof.

They were all in a hurry this morning. I was on the roof watching the sunrise, when I heard the front door open below me. I looked down and saw the first of us cross himself and head out up the street in the shadowy cool of the dawn. It was predicted that we’d see 90 degrees or more today, so I had no questions for his wisdom behind such an early start.

Down in the kitchen, there were already too many cooks spoiling the toast and compromising the coffee, so I put my bag together, and filled my canteen. After idling for at least twenty minutes, the situation for breakfast was still much the same, three Spaniards in the kitchen, erupting every 30 seconds or less. Three Germans at the table apparently discussing the qualities of the marmalade, and one guy who I’ve pegged as an American, but haven’t broken my cover to yet.

When space in the toaster finally became available, I got my own food going. The group as a whole took down two loaves of sliced bread, myself putting away 4 pieces of toast, for lack of anything of real substance.

By the time I’d finished & cleaned up, I went downstairs to find the front door wide open, & nobody else home. Double checking that everything was accounted for, I pulled the door closed & took to the street.

The arrows continued on, down to the lower side of town, past the Plaza de Toros, (which is disguised into a row house on the edge of town) and toward the highway. The Via was passing directly through a start/finish line for a race of some sort. Runners were lacing up & pinning things on, and an underpowered PA was blasting out bad pop music. I couldn’t tell what distance they were setting up for, but aren’t enough streets in all of Guillena to make a marathon, so I expected that I’d still be walking by the time they were all having a beer.

The path guided me out of town on a gravel road, and pointed straight across a flowing stream, with no means to cross. Up to the north there was a bridge with cars passing in & out of town. But I could see arrows on the other side of the crick, and couldn’t be sure I’d end up on the right side of the fence if I crossed at the bridge. Besides, it was at least a quarter mile onward, & I didn’t like the idea of backtracking if it turned out to be a bust.

I rolled up my pants, took off my shoes & my fresh-this-morning socks and did it like they done in former times. On the other side, I felt pretty good, and considered going on shoeless, but for just then noticing the yards & yards of broken bottles scattered around the tree I was standing under, somehow walking to where I was without serving myself a filet of sole.

Re-shoed, I tackled the rest of the industrial outskirts of Guillena, with no sign of any of my fellow pilgrims. The path parted decisively with civilization, running up along groves of trees and fields of sunflowers, not a soul in any direction who could alter your good humor. Or save you, should you collapse from the scorching heat of the sun.

The road was getting steeper & washed out in a lot of places, so a traveler needs to watch their step upon the overturned rocks littering the path. Most of the day was similar to walking up to Haferbier’s cabin, except the cabin never appeared. By staying to the right, you can walk in & out of the shadows of the scrubby trees growing next to the path, taking the sun off of your arms momentarily, though shadows taller than this man didn’t appear until mid-morning, where I came upon the first group of pilgrims, taking a rest under a massive citrus tree.

It was the three Spaniards, (two young, one old, all moving at the old man’s pace) and el Italiano, along with another man whose only words to me have been “donde esta la guitarra?” -once yesterday at the hostel, and now again as I walked up with it hanging on my back. This was the same fellow I passed yesterday on the way into Guillena, and our conversation hasn’t progressed from him asking that question, and me answering it.

I stopped to see how the group was doing, and to ask them what method they had used in crossing the stream this morning, to which el Italiano replied “en il ponte, claro…” -the bridge, of course. Maybe they were all using the GPS-guided version of the camino, with up-to-the-minute data on the viability of all courses of passage. I’m just following arrows.

I sheepishly mentioned that I’d gone all Huck Finn on that arroyo (not in so many words), which they all found interesting, I guess. I bid a Buen Camino to them and took back to the trail, which was cresting for the first time today, looking down toward a new terrain about a hundred yards away.

At the top of the hill, it was still oppressive sunlight and heat, but I could see down into a small timber, and its welcome shade. In the weeds I caught sight of a tiny lizard, a split second before he identified me. His little arms & legs became a blur, and he turned into a snake as he shot away. It was all cactus & scrub, not a tree or mammal to be seen until I reached a fence & a cattle gate. This oasis was rich with shade, a beautiful heifer with one broken horn, and two curious young steers. There were people up ahead as well, a woman and two children, plus a small dog!

They seemed to be moving at the dog’s pace, so they were hard to catch. I was behind them, slowly gaining for over a half-hour before finally pulling even with them. We spoke briefly & soon discovered that the dog was not theirs, the pup just took to them and began walking with them. The boys had obviously already taken a shine to the little critter and held him back with them as he took to following me ahead -which is quite for the best, because I don’t need the moral dilemma of a dog following me home. Chances are, he’d end up in Seattle, through great expense & effort, and Faron would be giving me that questioning look every day, over having to share his full-size futon bed with a young pup, and having to learn dog-Spanish in his old age…

Crisis averted.

Now I’m not scared of bulls for the sake of them being bulls, and I’m happy to walk through a pasture of cows of any sort, but upon crossing the cattle gate at the other end of the wooded pasture, I was happy to find a fence between myself and the bulls just on the next hill.

Massive, massive creatures. Like bigger than a bison. Just sauntering around in the grass or lounging in the shade, looking calm & cool not the slightest bit perturbed. All the same, I blessed the distance and the fence between us.

An unknown pilgrim was ahead of me, with an oppressive-looking backpack. The Germans were in front of him. They all had their canteens out, examining the levels of the yellow fluid they were all carrying. (Which reminded me, I had no idea how much water I had left). The other pilgrim & I passed the Germans at the same time, and after a few minutes I overtook him. He’s young, and burly, so he’ll be fine with that giant backpack. He was also hatless, which is borderline insanity out here.

It was about at this point when the rough cow-path we were on met with a proper road, and then a paved highway. Smooth blacktop like you can only have in a place that never freezes. It was mostly a walk separated from the cars by a patch of tall grass, with just a footpath, and finally accompanied by a few clouds, bringing fleeting patches of shade. It was the outskirts of town, cars, horses, houses, and finally the arrow to the hostel.

Pilgrims entering the hostel are given a warm greeting, and a glass of a brown, room-temperature liquid from a clear unlabeled plastic bottle. It tasted somewhat like flat cola, with more syrup, I took in as much as I could, and abandoned my glass.

Once again, ditching my pack & changing my shoes, I felt like a million bucks. Down to town for una cerveza, some more chocos, some tortillas de camarones, & a little ensaladilla. I was lost in relishing the moment, when the young pilgrim with the giant backpack walked by, a liter of beer in one hand, a liter of water in the other. He wasn’t staying at the hostel, perhaps he was camping out with all the gear in that pack, and had all the provisions he’d need for tonight & tomorrow morning.

Castilblanco de los Arroyos. The town is all painted white, but there is no castle. The best explanation the locals can give is that Don Quixote was here once, or maybe just Cervantes (suspending the discrepancy between fables & history, if there is any) and the town itself followed suit by issuing itself a lofty title, despite having no castles or nobility. What the town does have is a constant clacking echoing across the rooftops like low castanets. I couldn’t place this until I walked to the tallest building in town, the church. In nests on all sides of the of the steeple, and at all the high points of the roof, were huge bird nests, each holding a pair of what I’d call herons, if you asked me to name them. They made no clucks or chirps, but they clapped their beaks at each other incessantly- saying what- I have no idea. Filling the town with birdsong, but just the percussion score.

There’s a beautiful terraza here at the hostel, we all sat watching our laundry dry for a while, and then broke off into discernible factions. The “young” pilgrims accepted me into their ranks, and the “old” pilgrims went to take naps while we played cards, learning a game from Riccardo, (el Iltaliano) called “escala quarenta” that bears a strong resemblance to Rummy, but with more rules. Afterwards, one of the Spaniards (Catalan, actually) named Ignacio walked with us to the plaza for a sit & a beer. (an American, a Catalonian & an Italian walk into a bar….)

Riccardo is on his third Camino, Ignacio is much like myself, and has no strong feelings one way or the other toward the importance of reaching the supposed destination. He’s thinking of stopping in Mérida, I have no idea. Solid Italian and broken Spanish translates just fine, and we find we share a lot of opinions. If not exactly a lot of tastes.

But everywhere in the world there are people who lament the disappearance of presence and fluidity in human interactions & awareness. Ironic that this is what a group of people who made an active decision to depart from regular civilization end up talking about.

I had some supper in town, & when I got back home, Riccardo handed me a giant plate of pasta. So it’s a 2-supper kind of night.

We ate in the dark on the terraza, and everyone sat in communal excitement/dread for the morning. Stage 1 was 13+ miles, today was roughly 11, tomorrow will be around 18, and the sun will be cooking us all day. I’ll need to pace myself. I’m not good at that at all. Slow down, take breaks. Be the tortoise. Everybody here is bracing themselves for the worst. We’ve all chosen to be here…

[mrshmid]

YEAR 2, DAY 21 (day 155)

Day 2 of Insanity

The first thing I heard was Terry telling me to “Wake the **** up”.  A good start to the day.  It was 8:30 and I had slept 4 hours.  There were some ‘special visitors’ coming by the Center and they couldn’t have a bunch of nerds sleeping all over the floor.

I stuffed my sleeping bag into a bag and tossed it in a corner by the VR stuff.  Then brushed the gunk off my teeth and checked up on everyone else.  Half the team was preparing to go to a special morning-sleeping room because they’d been up all night working on various cool and complicated things that didn’t want to work.

Then I went to get some tea from Starbucks because I still felt asleep.  When I got back I started working out the remaining kinks in the audio visualizer.  This went on for a while.  All the while, the amount of people outside the window continued to grow.  I didn’t think much of it until I glanced out the window and noticed that a lot of them were holding signs and were part of a group that stretched down the street.  I checked Google News and, as it turns out, there were worldwide protests for women’s rights and basically everything Trump was against.

The visualizer was pretty much perfect so I took a break to watch the crowd go by.  There were some very...weird signs and outfits among the group.  After a while, I realized I was getting pretty hungry so I decided to go to the Subway inside the Center Building.  This was a bad idea.  As it turned out, the march didn’t just go through the Seattle Center, it ended there.  A good deal of the protesters were jammed into the Center Grounds.  It was like I was at Disneyland in the summer.  Also, the Center Building itself was holding a Chinese Vietnamese New Year festival and people were there for that.

It took me a good thirty minutes to walk a few hundred feet to Subway, wait in line, and get my sandwich.  I decided to stay away from the Center building for the rest of the day.

Some time before or after this, I was told that we had broken Unity’s quick-and-easy source control and we were switching to GitHub to store and share our work.  I was fine with this, but for some reason it GitHub refused to work for me.  I spent an unknown number of hours trying to make it work.  Luckily, I didn’t really have anything to work on.

It was dark out when I finally managed to successfully create a GitHub branch and publish it to the repository.  It worked.  After asking around to see what I could do, I started making a script to rotate the tunnel we would be flying down.  To my dismay, barely any of the things that had been started the previous day had been complete.  The only one who was making visible progress was Lukas, our artist-turned-programmer.

I spent a while pouring over the tunnel-generation code before I figured out how it all worked and did what I wanted in about five lines of code.

I had nothing to do at this point and neither did James and neither did Sabrina(our background artist who made a lot of stuff that was never used) so we all wandered back into the room and stared at the butterflies in trapped behind the glass walls of the butterfly house.  Then we wandered over to the snakes and James tried to get them to follow his fingers.  Then I looked behind me and saw a tank with these guys in it:

Yup, those are axolotls, or, as I like to call them, Mudkips.  We kept on staring at weird animals for a while before returning to the hubbub to see if there was anything to do.  There wasn’t, but before long there was an ANNOUNCEMENT.  All the jammers were invited to any of the laser shows that were going on that night.  For those of you who have not heard, the laser shows are basically concert/music video things where you go into a polygon-dome and the lights go off and a bunch of lasers flash all over the ceiling to music.

The first one, at 8:00 was for Daft Punk.  All the others didn’t matter because they weren’t Daft Punk.  The announcement was at 7:40 so everyone who was going quick-walked through the cold air and semi-rain from the jam building to the laser-room in the other building.

When I was eventually let in I noticed a very large blank spot on the floor.  This was so that you could lie down and stare up at the ceiling without craning your neck.  I wish cinemas did this with movies.

Eventually, the lights dimmed and the show began.  It started with the opening part of Da Funk, with a heavy helping of bass.  It was like the kind of bass you hear/feel when you pull up next to a car playing rap at max volume, with the bass (always) turned all the way up.  I could feel it moving through my bones and vibrating my entire body.  It was also hurting my ears.

This continued for quite some time.  The bass did not let up.  If anything, it intensified.  It drowned out everything else and all that was left was the low, impossibly deep THUMP THUMP THUMP of the beat.  I didn’t even see the lasers above me.  The thumping was taking over my mind and forcing its way deep into my soul.  I was becoming one with the rhythm, I was becoming a part of the bass.

Just when I thought I would transcend this audial plane and truly merge with the bass, it stopped.  The crowd was silent.  We were unable to cheer, unable to boo or moan or show any sort of approval or disapproval.  Then, suddenly, I recognized the familiar tune of Harder Better Faster Stronger.  Everyone else did too.  There was a sudden round of applause and cheering as everyone realized they had been released from the strong yet soothing grip of the bass.

The show lasted about an hour.  Each song used more advanced, impressive laser tricks.  Also, all of the songs were remixed or mashed together in some way, like One More Time and Aerodynamic (this one was probably my favorite mash-up).    The best one, in my opinion, was Derezzed.  Not only did they keep the song intact, but the lasers were used to create a Tron-style music video instead of just using an abstract display like they had been.

The show ended a bit after that.  The lights came back on and I remembered that the world existed outside of this room.  As I stood up, I felt like my bones had been pulled toward the floor during the show.  It felt like I existed a bit behind my body.  What this means is that I was walking really stiffly for a while after that.

Overall it was really cool but there was too much bass at the beginning.

After that I decided I would go home for the night and sleep in a real bed.  Also I had tea I could make at home and if I did that I wouldn’t have to wait in line for 5 minutes at Starbucks and then pay $5.50 (or so) for a cup of Chai Latte.

So, around midnight (I don’t remember what I was doing up until then), I grabbed my pack and headed home.  It was really quiet out.  I saw maybe 10 cars pass me as I walked down Mercer St, which is one of the most congested streets in Seattle.

And then I slept.

#we're calling it Pipe Dream for some reason