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finntheehumaneater · 4 months

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I owe you a black eye and two kisses

(Part two)

Now on Ao3

playlist | pinboard TW: drugs, swearing

Steve knew this was a bad idea. He knew it, and yet there he was, doing it anyway. His hands were shaking, and he was pretty sure he was still bleeding somewhere, but he sat patiently at the picnic table behind Hawkins High, waiting for the dealer to show up.

And honestly? Drugs wouldn't fix his situation. If anything, they would probably make it worse. But he just wanted to get back to that floaty-feeling he had felt with Robin a few days ago—to get rid of the feeling that he wasn't safe, because the people who hurt him were gone, and he was fine.

He should be fine, but he wasn't.

And he had a headache, just to top it all off.

He pressed his face into his hands, hating the way That his still-raw skin stung at the contact, but he didn't have the energy to lift his head up. He had felt on the verge of passing out for hours, and he was probably some kind of fucked up, again. But how would he know?

After starcourt, he had pushed the paramedics away—insisting that they check on everyone else, first, leaving him to sit in the back of an ambulance alone— his bruised-up Knees dangling over the edge of the vehicle, a blanket wrapped around his shoulder.

He hadn't needed it. He should have given it to someone else.

He could have gotten himself killed by refusing medical help like that. But that's who he's supposed to be, right? The self-sacrificing hero who puts others before himself—always making sure that everyone else is okay and comfortable before he limps off to go and tend to his own wounds in solitude.

And that's what he was doing. Tending to his own wounds. By buying drugs, of course, like any reasonable person would do. Besides, getting high was always more fun for him after serious head-trauma. He knew the risks, and he liked them.

He and Robin would have to find a new job, too.

Family Video was hiring soon, though, he had seen an ad for it in the newspaper this morning. He'd have to talk to Robin about that. But, then again, he’d probably end up vetoing the option, since he really didn't want to work for Keith.

A voice startled him from his thoughts —a teasing "Well, well, if it ish't Steve Harrington"—and he panicked, his body flinching into itself on its own, back curled like that would protect him from any kind of harm. He could still be beaten senseless like that, though, he knew from experience.

Steve forced himself to straighten, taking a deep breath, and trying to ignore the way that the pounding in his head only got worse after the sudden movement.

He didn't turn as Eddie Munson made his way to The other side of the picnic table, sitting down and placing his small, metal lunchbox between them.

“Munson,” Steve muttered, Kkeeping his head ducked, his eyes glued to a spot of lichen growing out of the wood of the table, desperately hoping that the hair falling over his forehead would help hide his battered-up face better.

“Harrington,” Eddie said back, but the cockines and teasing in his voice faltered slightly. "Shit, man, what happened to you?"

Steve shook his head, trying to turn away, but Eddie must have leaned over the table, because there was a thumb pressed to his chin, bringing his face up—the tip of it just brushing his bottom lip for a moment. It didn't move away when he winced and tugged back slightly, his skin burning at the contact. “Steve. What happened?"

Steve moved his eyes up to meet Eddie’s, and he had never felt more exposed in a t-shirt and jeans than he did now, what with the way Eddie was looking at him. It was Robin's Madonna t-shirt, and even though she only wore baggy things, really, it was still a bit tight on him, pushing up against his stomach a bit. But he had borrowed it because it was soft and cotton, the kind of fabric that didn't make him feel like he'd need to peel off his skin to be comfortable again after wearing it.

"Starcourt, " Steve managed, kind of loving the way that Eddie's thumb pressed against his skin a bit harder, his index finger hooked under Steve's chin to keep him in place. "M'okay."

Eddie narrowed his eyes, looking Steve over again, and Steve could feel his face flush as Eddie ran a finger down Steve’s bruised cheek and sighed. “Huh. Alright, then. Glad you’re okay.”

Steve nodded and watched as Eddie opened the box, looking at Steve expectantly, because of course he was waiting for Steve to tell him what he wanted, but Steve was feeling unsure, now. Did he really need to get high? That didn’t seem like it would help with his headache. He had really only done this once, and he felt horrible afterwards.

“I—I can’t do this,” He choked out, hating the way that his eyes stung, his hands gripping at his arms as he looked away, because he was tired. He was tired, that was it. Definitely. His fingers dug into his skin a bit harder, and he managed to get out an, “I’m sorry,” when he heard Eddie sigh and the box close.

“It’s okay,” Eddie whispered, his voice softer and less demanding than before. “Do you need anything? A ride home? You look kind of pale, sweetheart.”

“I don’t…I’m fine. You probably—you don’t need to do that,” Steve sniffed, wiping his eyes. He didn’t want to cry in front of Eddie, but he really couldn’t help it.

“At least let me walk you to your car?”

“I didn’t bring it. I—I walked here. Needed some fresh air, I guess…”

He looked back at Eddie, and Eddie looked him over once more, getting up and looking at Steve expectantly again. “Well, if you think I’m going to let you walk for half-an-hour like this, then you’re wrong. Let’s go, I’ll drive you home.”

EDIT: since this is getting so much attention, I would also just like to say that if you guys like my writing, I have more of it here ❤️

(I might make a part two of this and post it if people are interested, but I’m putting this here so that you guys can bug me about finishing this if you’d like :D)

I did not read this over. So sorry for any mistakes.

Title from this song

I hope you enjoyed my 11PM shitty writing, and reblogs and comments are appreciated!! ⭐️

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steve x eddie #steddie fic #Finn writes #stranger things fic #steve Harrington fic #stobin #platonic with a capital p #My fic #my writing

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sleepdeprivedandinsane · 1 year

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Love You Like I'm Never Gonna Love You Again

Evan 'Buck' Buckley x Fem!Reader

angst with a happy ending

summary: Reader gets shot on a job. When she flatlines on the way to the hospital, Buck is worried she won't make it out alive.

POTENTIAL TW : : mentions of gsw, blood, grief, guns? I think? If there's any I missed or should add lmk! Enjoy 🫡

I only have one thing to say for this... sorry 🥲

It was times like this that Buck wondered why he did what he did. Everyone was silent as they sat at the dinner table. No one bothered to try and say anything, and no one looked up either. They all focused on their polished black shoes, not having the stomach to look up and see her empty chair.

He hears people say, "it all happened so fast," but when the shot rang out and he watched the blood spread on her shirt, everything was in slow motion. The shot echoed in his ears. He was too shocked to scream as her body fell slowly to the ground. Realization hit when he felt her blood on his face, and everyone rushed to her aid. It was like someone shocked him, like he jolted awake from a nightmare. Only, when he woke up, she wasn't better.

"No..." He said. "No, no, no!" He screamed, rushing to her.

Bobby and Eddie held him back as he fought to get to her, Hen and Chim working with shaky hands.

"This can't be happening..." He whimpered.

She looked at him, a weak smile on her bloody face, blood pouring from her wound."It's okay. It'll be okay." She muttered fraily.

She nodded, as if trying to convince herself as well.

"Please- let me go!" He yelled desperately, "please! I need to go to her!" His eyes watered as he begged Bobby and Eddie to let him go.

They, too, were on the verge of tears, trying to hold them back for his sake. It wouldn't have made much of a difference, though. All his focus was on her.

Once they got her loaded into the ambulance, they let him go. He ran to her side and sat down. He took her hand, brushing the stray hairs that fell from her braid away from her eyes. She looked up at him with watery eyes, swallowing thickly because she knew it wasn't good. A bullet wound is supposed to hurt. It isn't good when it doesn't.

"Try not to move, okay?" He said shakily.

She nodded, squeezing his hand to assure him. She felt somewhat guilty that she was even trying when she knew she probably wouldn't make it to the hospital. She couldn't bring herself to lie to him. She couldn't find the words to tell him how much she loved him either.

"You're gonna be okay. You have to be." He said firmly, denial dripping from his tongue.

She shook her head. "No." She whimpered. "I'm not."

He shook his head defiantly. "Don't say that. Say anything but that." He said, his voice cracking.

Hen and Chim had to choke back the words 'she's right' because they themselves didn't want to believe she wasn't going to be okay. They wanted to believe she'd be okay like Buck did.

"Okay." She said. "Then I need to tell you something. Before I don't get the chance. I-" She started.

But he cut her off with a shake of his head. "No, you can tell me when you're better." He said.

They all knew what she was going to say, but no one said anything. Everyone, including each other, knew about their feelings for each other. Y/n was afraid of it all going sour, however, and she didn't have the courage to take the plunge and risk losing her best friend. Evan, he wanted to save them both the heartache in case it didn't last. Mostly himself, if he was honest. He knew they'd come back from it, but it'd never be the same. They didn't want to take that chance, and everyone thought it was stupid. Anyone with eyes could see they were crazy for each other. Absolutely head over heels.

"You can't leave me. Please don't leave me." He said desperately, tears streaming down his blood stained cheeks.

She reached up and wiped away his tears, her hand lingering when he leaned into her. "You'll be okay." She said sadly.

"No." He croaked. "I won't." He shook his head, placing his hand on hers.

"You'll have Maddie, Bobby, Chimney, Hen, Eddie, and Christopher. You'll be okay." She tried to convince him.

"But I won't have you." He whispered. "You can't give up yet. You have to fight." He said defeated.

"I'm so tired." She said weakly. "I'm sorry." She said, struggling to get the words out.

"I know it hurts-" He said, but she cut him off.

"It doesn't. It doesn't hurt." She whispered.

"Please, it's not supposed to end this way, I still need you. We still need you." He said.

She smiled weakly, wiping his tears once more. She gasped, her chest heaving, before she stilled, her eyes going blank. For a moment, her hand remained against his cheek, but he knew she was gone. Her smile faded, her mouth agape as blood spilled from the corners. Her hand fell, and Buck never knew silence could be so loud. The constant beep, the solid line, seemed to taunt them. Hen angrily shut it off. Chimney slowly took his hands from her wound where he attempted to stop the bleeding.

"No." Buck said, getting up and starting cpr.

He wasn't ready to give up on her. Henrietta shut her eyes tightly, fighting back tears of her own. Chimney shook his head, determined to see her smile again. To see them finally happy together. To see her in a white gown as he watched his best friends say their vows. To see little baby Buckleys running around with Jee-yun. He reached into her wound, closing off the source of the bleed. Hen sniffled as she turned the machine back on, the consistent beep sounding again. What was a taunt became motivation to them, and Buck continued to try recesutate her.

"C'mon..." He said. "C'mon!" He yelled desperately.

Tears mixed with the dried blood on his face, but he hardly noticed either. Hen tried not to look because seeing one of her best friends lay lifeless on the gurney, while another desperately tried to bring her back, would be too much. She knew that would break her. Break her faith in the job. She needed to try to remember why she did it instead of seeing a reason not to.

As Chimney ran beside the gurney, Hen filled in the doctors and nurses, but Buck didn't hear. He just heard a ringing in his ears, the gun shot echoing in his head. Her lifeless eyes stared back at him, the blood still spilling from her mouth. It gave him a little hope, though, because if she was totally gone she wouldn't be bleeding... right?

"Sir, we can take it from here." A nurse said, easing Buck from his position above her as he tried to get her heart beating again.

Chim was eased into paper blue covers as they rolled them into surgery.

They hadn't been ushered away yet. They could see nurses starting chest compressions and giving her O2. They could see the doctors gently ease Chim's hand from her wound. They could see the blood pour from the wound as a result. As the minutes droned on and her heart didn't start, he felt his own shatter.

It wasn't quick. It was slow. Painful.

Hen could see her blood spilling onto the floor. Her hope quickly diminished seeing the amount.

Finally, Buck could see her heart re-start and her chest rise, and he released a breath he wasn't aware he was holding.

Then, Buck finally broke down. He fell to his knees, sobbing. Hen knelt down with him, pulling him into her embrace, but it offered neither of them comfort. Bobby, Eddie, and Athena rushed to them.

Athena's face fell. "She flat lined. Didn't she?" She said sadly, defeated.

Hen nodded weakly. Eddie dropped to his knees, hugging Buck as well.

"I'm gonna get this son of a bitch." Athena growled, storming out of the trauma bay. "Call me when she's out of surgery." She said as she determinedly walked away.

Bobby hung his head, unwillingly letting the tears fall. None of them could bring themselves to leave. None of them wanted to.

It wasn't until Chim finally returned, covered in blood, and said they wouldn't know anything for several more hours.

It took some convincing, but they finally got Buck to leave to finish his shift. But none of them truly left the ER.

Buck had an empty plate in front of him, but he couldn't bring himself to eat. Not when he saw her blank expression every time he closed his eyes.

Their families all came out to support them, the community coming together to put out candles and figures of good luck and healing, hoping and praying for the firefighter and her family and team. Praying for good news. The sight was bittersweet.

Buck couldn't stand the silence. He stood abruptly and left, heading to the locker rooms.

He had to choke back a sob. He didn't want to live without her. He didn't want to love anyone else but her. He didn't want to do this job if she wasn't beside him.

"Evan, you were made to save a life."

His mother's voice rang out in his head.

He wanted to scream. He wanted to sob. He wanted her back.

He missed her smile, he missed her laugh, he missed the stupid jokes she'd tell to cheer everyone up on a hard day. He missed her warm hugs and how she smelled like roses and lillies: her favorite perfume. Her hair always smelled fruity, and her skin was always so soft. He missed her giggles and the way she'd gently caress his face. He wanted her back.

He wanted to hear from the damn hospital. Wanted to hear them say she made it through. It was nearing six hours after the shooting, and it felt like the longest six hours of his life.

He stood in the locker room, leaning against the metal doors of the lockers, his head down. He squeezed his eyes shut, desperately trying to think of her in any way that wasn't the lifeless look in her eyes. Even if she made it, that sight would haunt his nightmares. He mentally kicked himself for not telling her he loved her sooner. He knew she knew. Hell, everyone else did too. But he needed to know she heard it. And right now, he was praying for any miracle. He was praying that he'd get the chance to tell her, kiss her, hold her, anything.

He screamed and stood, hitting the lockers to try to ease the pain in any way. He punched and punched, angry and distraught and so many other things. He wanted order. He needed something to ground him. Right now, that was the stinging pain in his knuckles. He punched the doors again and again until his fist was as numb as he was inside. He fell to his knees, crying weakly.

Maddie came in, silently sitting next to him on the floor. She didn't try reassuring him that she'd be okay because truth be told, she was terrified too. She also knew nothing she said would help ease his pain. So she simply laid a gentle hand on his cheek, turning his face to her. She smiled softly, pulling his head forward and placing a gentle kiss to his forehead. He leaned on her, laying his head on her shoulder as he sobbed tiredly.

"I just need to know that she's okay." He croaked weakly. "I just need her to be okay." He sobbed.

"Shh," she cooed softly, "I know." She whispered. She held his shoulders, letting her own tears fall.

"I'm not going to lie to you and say it'll be okay. I don't know if she's going to make it, and I won't try to pretend that I do. But I know one thing: she is incredibly strong." She said, pulling him away just enough to look him in the eye.

"She's got a lot of fire left in her, still got a lot of fight left. She doesn't give up easily, and I refuse to believe that this time is going to be any different. She's too stubborn and bull headed to let someone else decide when it's her time to leave. And I have that to hold onto." She said.

He smiled faintly. "Thank you." He whispered. "That helps." He said, nodding as he closed his eyes.

"You need to go home and rest." She said concerned.

He shook his head. "I can't sleep without knowing she's okay." He said defiantly.

Just then, Chimney ran in, Jee on his hip. "It's the hospital." He panted. "They've got news on Y/n." He said.

Maddie and Buck shot up from the floor, running out to the main floor where Bobby was on the phone with the doctor.

"Here they are, I'm putting you on speaker." He said when Maddie and Buck approached.

"I'm relieved to call with good news. Ms Y/l/n made it." He said relieved.

A collection of cheers sounded throughout the firehouse. And for the first time since she was shot, Buck felt all the tension leave his body. "Thank god." He muttered to himself.

"She suffered slight head trauma when she fell, and with the pain medication she's on, she'll probably be out for a while." He said.

"When can we see her?" Hen asked antsy.

"You can come down now if you'd like. Visiting hours are over, but I'll make an exception this time." He said.

"Thank you. Thank you so much." Bobby said.

Before he even ended the call, Buck was running to his jeep. He sped to the hospital, probably breaking several traffic laws on the way, but at the moment, he could care less. All he could think was, 'She's alive. She's really alive. She's okay.' In that moment, nothing else mattered to him. She was alive. That's all that he cared about.

He ran up to the receptionist, and as soon as he had her room number, he was running up the stairs.

The elevator might've been quicker, but the burn in his legs and the sharp jab in his gut as he took the stairs two at a time reminded him that he was awake, that it was real. She was really okay.

He saw her through the large window in the wall, the door slightly ajar. All the air left his lungs. He couldn't describe the immense relief any other way.

He rushed to her side, dropping into the chair beside her bed. The back of her gown was open, the bandages peeking through. Before he even registered it, he was tucking the blanket over her exposed skin. He took her hand in his, feeling her warm skin against his. He sighed, leaning his forehead against their intertwined hands. Up until now, he hadn't realized just how tired he was. His face was probably all red and puffy from crying, but he didn't care all that much anymore. He'd hang the moon if it meant she would be okay. He'd hold the sky up for her if it meant he would see her smile again. He didn't care. All that mattered to him was that she was safe.

She groaned, squeezing his hand in hers. "Hey, Buckley." She croaked out with a dry throat.

He smiled, remembering when she would call him that when they first got to know each other. At first, it was because she was bad at remembering names and relied on the name tags. Then, it became a way for her to tease him because she knew he didn't like it. He would always respond with her last name, too, but it was only her and a few other people who were allowed to call him that. The few other people being Hen, Chim, Bobby, and Eddie. And of course, his sister, but she only really did when he was about to be reprimanded for something. Other than that, no one else was allowed to use his full name. She was even allowed to call him Evan, but she only used it when it was just them.

"Hey, Y/l/n." He responded softly. He gently handed her the cup of ice water from the table beside her bed, helping her sit up slightly so she could take a drink. She nodded when she was finished and he set it down.

She smiled at him fondly. "You were right." She said. "Maybe I was being a little dramatic." She joked lightheartedly.

Maybe he wasn't in the mood, but that struck a cord with him. "You weren't being dramatic, Y/n, you flatlined. You almost died." He said seriously.

Her eyes widened and she sat forward slightly. "I- what?" She asked shocked.

His eyes began to water, and his had shook slightly. "You were dead. I thought you were gone. I was so scared." He whispered meekly.

She frowned, pulling his face to hers. She rested her forehead against his, gently wiping his tears away. "Hey, I'm right here, okay? I'm not going anywhere anytime soon." She whispered.

"You almost died. I didn't know what I was going to do if you didn't make it. I wasn't sure I could live with myself." He said softly. "I need you here. I've never loved anyone the way I love you." He admitted. He wasn't too particularly happy with the time and place, but he couldn't wait any longer. He needed to know he told her. He needed to know he said it.

She kissed him deeply, putting everything she was trying to tell him in it. That she was real, and she was alive. She wasn't going anywhere. That she loved him too.

"I love you. God, I've wanted to tell you for so long but I was too scared." He said.

"What made you not be scared anymore?" She asked.

"Oh, I'm still scared. I'm scared if we go all in and it ends badly, that I'll lose my best friend and the best thing that's ever happened to me. But seeing you lay lifeless on the gurney scared me way more. I'm still scared, but not as scared as I was when I thought you died." He said.

Her face fell. "Oh, God, you saw me flatline?" She said, a mix of emotions crossing her face. He just nodded sadly.

"I saw through the window. There was so much blood. It's something that's going to haunt my nightmares for the foreseeable future." He said.

She stroked his cheek gently. "You said I could say it when I was better. Can I say it now?" She asked.

He closed his eyes and nodded. "Please."

"I love you, Evan Buckley." She said smiling.

He smiled relieved. She leaned her forehead against his again. "I love you so much." She whispered. "I love you, I love you, I love you." She said, peppering his face with kisses until he finally smiled. "There it is." She said softly.

"I'm never letting you go again." He said, gently pulling her into his chest to hug her, just wanted to hold her for a little while.

"Well, that's good, 'cus I'm never leaving your side." She said, sinking into his embrace.

Eventually, after a grueling 30 minutes of being stuck in traffic due to a pileup, the team finally made it to the hospital, only to find Y/n and Buck asleep.

Y/n lay back, the bed sitting up slightly, but not much. Buck lay right next to her chest, her arm over his shoulders, and their fingers entwined. It looked like they fell asleep talking and watching 'Gone With The Wind' on some channel. They all smiled at the sight, happy to see the two finally relaxed.

Each one took a seat somewhere and eventually fell asleep themselves. They weren't about to leave without giving Y/n a hug and reminding her how much they love her. Besides, they were all exhausted. Physically, emotionally, and mentally. The hospital wasn't the best place to sleep, but they weren't about to leave their youngest member alone in a hospital room, let alone let Buck be there by himself. And maybe it was to make themselves feel better because they were all worried sick about her. Or maybe it was for her and Buck. All they knew: they weren't leaving her alone again.

#angst prompt #writers on tumblr #911 on fox #911 one shot #evan 'buck' buckley #buck x reader #evan buckley x reader #this is some angst angst

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oneshotnewbie · 6 months

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Emily PrentissxJennifer JareauxReader:

The reader is working for the BAU and has a really bad migraine (She has chronic migraines but didn't tell anyone). She is really mad and distant toward her friends (you can include the boys too but make me girls main please) and they notice it and have a little intervention with her. After that a lot of fluff where Emily and JJ care for her

Authors note: Unfortunately I don´t have an Emily Prentiss x Daughter reader story, but I have added a new one to write. Until then, there is only one Emily Prentiss x Jennifer Jareau x Reader story from me today

ᕚ---ᕘ

You could say that you were a person with enormous stamina and a high tolerance level. Something that was a must for anyone who worked as a Supervisory Special Agent for the Behavioral Analysis Unit and under Aaron Hotch. Many people admired you for not jumping off the next cliff under the unbearable circumstances of this job.

And you yourself sometimes admired your own achievements. But everyone had their limits and it was a recurring thing that happened during your work hours. You ignored the first triggers. You exceeded your physical limits and your migraine appeared.

You could have guessed it when you got back on the plane from Oxford. The terrible serial killer and the panic it caused in the city, the fact that he had abused and murdered seven women. This case had taken more of a toll on you than you would have liked and you tried to deal with your problems in your own way. Which meant you threw yourself into the work, no matter how mundane every clue was and no matter what wall you hit.

“Y/n, maybe you should take a break?” begged Emily, noticing that you were doing everything you could to get Oxford out of your bones as quickly as possible. You, however, waved her off without saying a word and continued to stare at the white board on which every clue was hanging. "Do not need a break, I am fine." The black-haired went along with it, stayed by your side and tolerated your moods even when they drove her crazy.

Non-stop, without a break and with lack of sleep and malnutrition, you battled the nagging headaches and mild nausea. You became more and more tired, yawned and became increasingly sensitive to the loud noises of the office. Something you could tolerate skillfully. But Emily and your colleagues not.

You clearly knew you were on the verge of a migraine when you started seeing visual symptoms of a migraine aura. Your vision became distorted, sometimes weaker, sometimes sharper. For a few minutes you only saw white in your left eye, but you kept going, not giving yourself a break. You knew that no other woman could die because of you.

Hour after hour you were exhausted and just trudged from the office to the coffee machine. With a nasty headache and feeling like you might throw up, you swallowed it all and sat down on a chair while Penelope talked loudly to Derek. You felt like your head was going to explode at any moment from their voices. "Could you PLEASE shut up or at least go to another room to flirt with each other?" you huffed and massaged your temples, their sighs ringing like a hurricane in your ears. "Some people want to work here."

"Babygirl, are you okay?" he asked, surprised at your momentary outburst. He had never been allowed to see you like this, you had never snapped at him. A sharp pain shot through your temples and you hastily stood up. "Hey, cutie pie? What is going on?" the technical analyst also chimed in and waited for any kind of answer.

"I am fine, just leave me alone." your words came out of your mouth hastily and probably slurred, but you did not care. You had to go to the toilet immediately. Without turning around again, you quickly walked out of the office and stumbled in the direction you were heading. Every time you made contact with the ground, the headache got worse and you begged not to throw up on the way. You saw distorted vision in your right eye while small white flashes danced in front of it.

Rushing into the bathroom, you stood in front of the sink, panting and swallowing convulsively. Having migraines was terrible and right now you could not use one. You sighed in relief when you did not throw up, as long as you did not, it was not all that bad.

Loud footsteps sounded outside the door and a knock made your head explode. “Oh, y/n.” A rough voice spoke and you looked in the mirror. Emily and JJ had pushed through the door one after the other and were now standing with their backs to you, their arms crossed over their chests. Furthermore, you paid attention to your reflection in the mirror, which said that any idiot could see that a corpse in pathology looked healthier than you. So did the trained agents on your team. "What is wrong?"

You did not even hear half of the sentence, the second word was the end of it. You ran into one of the stables, fell to your knees and managed to bend over the toilet just in time. You squeezed your eyes shut as tears streamed down your cheeks and you threw up violently. “y/n?” the blondes voice had an worried undertone and you did not notice her standing strictly behind you. The next thing you felt were cool hands on your neck and shoulders.

Jerking away from the touch, leaning your head back against the wall as you pulled your knees into your body. You tried to block so many sounds and other sensations from your body, while only this crushing and throbbing pain existed in your head.

Once again you felt cold hands on your skin and everything in you protested as they helped him to his feet, an arm was placed around your shoulder and led you out of the bathroom and through the hallway. Soon your face made contact with a pillow and a relieved sigh rolled past your lips. You did not know where you were, just that it was quiet. Still, your currently oversensitive ears heard Hotch appearing to be talking to Emily, JJ, and the rest of the group. "No, we have no idea what is going on."

“Did you ask her?”

"We tried, but we got no response." at some point there was an angry snort at the blonde's answer and there were more footsteps in front of the door. The squeaking sound echoed through your head, pounding inside before the space on the couch shrank and a shadow appeared in front of you. "Sweetie, cards on the table. Tell us what is going on?"

The voice of the of the blonde was painful, yet it was strangely comforting to hear a familiar and loving voice. Still, you flinched violently as something cool was brushed onto your forehead. The nausea slowly subsided. "Chronic migraines since adolescence. But not so severe for a while."

Long fingers tugged at the disheveled and stray strands of hair on your face before she stood up again and walked to the windows. The room darkened, blinds closed and you moaned pleasantly. After making a trip to the door, she told the expected teammates what you had told her. You only heard a quiet "I will stay with her, but someone has to get me the medication out of my bag," before the door closed quietly and she sat down on the office chair, looking over you thoughtfully.

JJ waited for Emily to come back with some things and watched you laying there in pain, exhausted and completely distracted by the thunder in your head, trying to be as silent as she could. A few minutes later, the door opened again. You saw Emily through squinted eyes and spotted a bucket in her hand, a bowl of water, wipes under her arms and a large disposable syringe.

"What do you want to inject into me?" you asked surprised and a little frightened by the size of the abnormally large syringe. The blonde knelt down in front of you, pulling up your sweater and waiting for the black-haired one to hand it over. "Metoclopramide,"

"How do you know what to inject into me and where did you get it from?"

"You are not the only one who gets migraines. I used to get them often enough and since then I have always had an injection with me to protect myself from them in case they happen again." she frowned and laughed quietly. You nodded in acceptance and there was a moment of silence before a hot, stabbing pain shot through your lower torso and you cried out. "That hurts!"

Emily sat on the armrest and slipped her fingers between your own. You squeezed it tightly and she hoped to take the temporary pain away from you. "Why did not you tell us?" the black-haired asked sadly you huffed through gritted teeth. "I did not want to be a burden to you. I did not want to seem weak," you replied, shrugging.

"It was stupid of you not to say anything. At least to JJ or me." She paused briefly and you raised your head in confusion before nodding in understanding and looking over at the blonde. With a half-smile, she placed a band-aid on the wound and placed a thin blanket over your legs. "Okay. Next time I will let you know, I promise."

They both nodded and stood up. While JJ was putting away the trash, Emily leaned over and gave you a gentle kiss on the top of your head before she disappeared out of the door. "I will make you some tea,"

"You never make tea."

"I will do it today for a very special and stubborn person." She spoke in a whisper, winking at you. You laughed quietly and already felt a million times better than you did a few minutes ago. With a yawn, you sank deeper into the pillow and watched as the blonde turned on a small lamp at the desk in the dark room so she could continue working. "Thanks,"

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genderkoolaid · 11 months

Note

hey! if you have the spoons, would you happen to have any posts/anecdotes refuting this thread? https://www.tumblr.com/neondyke/719263498717233152/nonhoration?source=share

so. one of my big problems with how we talk about TERFs is the sort of conspiratorial energy some people have towards them- not in that TERFs don't lie about their beliefs, but the idea that all radical feminists are part of this huge conspiracy where none of them actually believe any of what they say. The idea that no TERF actually, genuinely cares about women, or gender non-conforming people- or that none of them hate men.

Just because TERFism is misogynistic, harmful to GNC people, and often allies with conservative men, does not mean every TERF hates other women, GNC people, and likes men. Its vital to be critical of what TERFs say vs what their actions say- but we do ourselves and them a disservice by shoving our fingers in our ears and essentially saying that no TERF can be genuine, and I actually know what they really believe in their hearts. This is especially important when you aren't interacting with high-level TERFs (especially those making bank off public appearances & books & shit), but like. regular smegular everyday women who got radicalized, or people who are on the verge of being radicalized and are put-off by people who seem to be incapable of seeing TERFs as having genuine beliefs.

I say that all because the idea that TERFs aren't misandrists, that they don't really hate men, is just straight-up ridiculous. It assumes that radical feminism was born exclusively as a reaction to trans women, that none of its theorists or activists were genuinely trying to apply Marxist analysis to gender/sex dynamics and create a better world for women. Which ignores other parts of radical feminism, like their anti-sex work rhetoric/whorephobia. (If you have access to JSTOR, I recommend reading "Radical Feminism and Feminist Radicalism" by Ellen Willis, a former radfem; it dives into the problems with 60s radical feminism from an inside perspective).

I absolutely think TERF hatred for trans women is not exclusively a result of their misandry. This is because all transphobia is systematic, and everyone born and raised in transphobic society has transphobia woven into their thinking. So if you are a cis woman, probably one who has had traumatic experiences with misogyny coming from cis men- probably one with some interest in leftism, who is annoyed by liberal #girlboss feminism which feels lackluster, who is envious of the subversive, direct-action, "tear the system down" feminism of the past- and you have an unexamined, ingrained bias against trans people, well. TERFism will provide explanation and affirmation for your trauma and the promise of the radical feminist action of your dreams to allow you to lash out at your oppressors with the logic of the guillotine. Your unexamined bias against trans women will mean you don't see their transmisogyny as unreasonable, and even if you never really thought about trans women before, its gonna be real easy for you to accept them as a threat to Real Women.

But to assume that every time a TERF says "men" or "male," she means "trans woman," is just ignorant. TERFs are surrounded by cis men, because they live in the same society as us. They see cis men acting misogynistic, many of them have been personally hurt by cis men, they very much mean "cis men" when they say things like "all men should be castrated" or "all male babies should be aborted"- how exactly can you talk about males as a sex and never refer to cis men? When they talk about how using dildos or any sort of penetrative sex is patriarchal and Bad, that's not because they hate trans women, its because they see anything that could be associated with maleness as bad.

Here's a quote from Sylvia Riveria's very important work "Queens in Exile, The Forgotten Ones":

"Oh, yeah, we mixed with lesbians. We always got along back then. All the division between lesbian women and queens came after 1974 when Jean O'Leary and the radical lesbians came up. The radicals did not accept us or masculine-looking women who dressed like men. And those lesbian women might not even have been trans."

TERF hatred for transmasculinity goes back far before ROGD and the idea of transmasculinity as a social disease affecting "innocent young girls." Here's a quote from Leslie Feinberg's Transgender Warriors:

"A view that the primary division of society is between women and men leads some women to fear that transsexual women are men in sheep's clothing coming across their border, or that female-to-male transsexuals are going over to the enemy, or that I look the same as the enemy."

If TERFs have no real hatred for men or masculinity, why did/do they attack butches & transmascs? Why, before ROGD was the trendy way to attack transmasculinity, did they specifically attack us for being too masculine and therefore imitating the oppressor? The idea that trans women are the only ones blamed by TERFs for ROGD is also false- adult trans men, especially those with any public influence, are frequently blamed for "preying" on young "girls." (Also, fun fact: that last quoted paragraph ends with: "Trans people of all sexes and genders are not oppressors: they, like women, rank among the oppressed.")

Lastly, I feel like we- all trans people- have an issue of trying to match our genders & the way our genders do impact how we are treated, with the way our sexual/gendered misgendering also impacts how we are treated. For example, I am often frustrated by trans men who are resistant to talking about how trans men face misogyny because "it feels like misgendering." I don't think we can really deal with transphobia unless we cope with the fact that we are trans people- we are socially placed between genders and punished for that, and that means that we will be attacked because of our relationship to our gender assigned at birth (although not exclusively). See this post for more of my thoughts on that.

Obligatory "please don't harass any of the people in the screenshot above, just block them & move on" notice

#m.#ask box #transandrophobia #transmisandry #anti transmasculinity

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pappydaddy · 11 months

Text

idiot (j.m.)

a/n: ha, i'm baaaack! bet cha didn't think y'all were getting this fic!

tv show/movie: outer banks | pairing: jj maybank x fem!pogue!reader

requested by a lovely anon as part of my 800 follower celebration

synopsis: jj tries to impress his girlfriend, but it doesn't go as well as he planned.

warnings: reckless actions, accident, mention of a dislocation, mention of breaking a bone, fluff.

navigation | masterlist | taglist sign-up

- not my gif -

JJ has done stupid and reckless things before. It was expected of him and he liked to live up to expectations. He was the unhinged friend that stressed everyone out. Since meeting him in elementary school, Y/N didn’t know JJ not to be daring which meant that she (being the nervous and apprehensive person she was) often found herself on the verge of a heart attack whenever he pulled his little stunts. Since they started dating two years ago, his chaos and recklessness has decreased, but not by any significant bounds.

But the decrease wasn’t from JJ changing, it was from Y/N insisting that he needs to be safe and arguing with him (which actually makes him think first). Even then, it’s a fifty-fifty shot that he actually listens. For instance, there was a new skatepark installed on The Cut, a last-ditch effort to (a) make The Cut look nicer, (b) keep Pogues out of Kook territory, and (c) lower crime rates. Of course, JJ, who has never skateboarded before, was convinced it was just like surfing so, therefore, he believed he would be a pro at it. He was wrong. Horribly wrong. But, thanks to Y/N, he was wearing a helmet and managed to avoid concussing himself on the concrete after he fell off the metal railing (nearly hitting his head on that).

Now, the dirt bike track was finally up and running again following the brief closure (three years) due to the owner going to jail for embezzlement. Now, after two former motocross x-game finalists who grew up in The Cut had bought it, it was fixed up and ready to be used again. Of course, JJ was naturally drawn to it, visiting every day so far this summer. Most of the time, Y/N went with him, but she was unable to go the past three weeks because Sarah had pulled her away to the mainland for shopping.

“Babe, I am so excited for you to come to the course again,” JJ was nearly bouncing off the walls all day. He even woke up at nine in the morning (and was like this from the start). His breakfast of a mixture of half a box of fruity pebbles and half a box of lucky charms was not helping anything. “I’ve been working on so many neat moves with Nathan, he says that I have enough skill that I could enter comps and win huge cash prizes.”

She looked over at him from where she packed things into her tote bag. “Nathan would know, maybe you should enter some contests. You could probably enter some surfing contests too,” She nodded, double checking the contents of her bag. JJ spending every day at the course has led to Nathan (one of the owners) coaching him as a hobby. Completely free and completely spontaneous. “You could really make a career out of these, J.” She reminded him.

“I don’t know, Babe,” He shrugged, grabbing the sunscreen and her sunglasses that she forgot on her dresser. “Some of these guys that play these sports come from rich families who pay for only the best training. No way I can compete against that. Their parents buy them wins basically! How can I win against someone who bribes the judges? Or someone who has the best bike?” He pointed out, handing her the items as she started to walk out of their room.

“Thanks,” She smiled up at him, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “And Nathan has competed against them and won, he can teach you how. Talent is always better than money in the long run. It’s worth a try if you think you’ll be happy,” A honk sound from outside, signalling that the Twinkie was there. “I mean, you asked me out because you thought it would make you happy and look at us now. Living together.” She gestured around at the small cottage-like house they rent. Two-bedroom, one bath, and the floor plan was open concept because it was just a kitchen and living room.

“Would you be okay if I started competing,” JJ asked her, his hand reaching out to gently grab her arm when she started to walk towards the front door, another honk sounding from John B. She turned around, seeing him inches away from her, eyes staring down into hers as he waited for her answer. “It’s easy to get hurt in these sports and I don’t want you worrying all the time.”

She sighed, smiling at him, hands coming up to cup his face. “I’m always gonna worry about you JJ. What matters is if you’re happy. You sacrifice so much for me, I can sacrifice being scared out of my wits for the length of a competition.” With that, she rolled up to the balls of her feet, pressing a kiss to his lips just when another honk sounded.

____

“I can’t believe you said you would be fine with him competing,” Sarah shook her head as she watched the course. People zipped around, mud flying in every direction. Sarah and Y/N sat on the bleachers, free sodas from the cooler in hand. Y/N looked up from her book, eyes searching for JJ instantly, quickly finding him talking to Nathan off on the side. “I mean, someone wipes out every second. If John B started competing in motocross I would have a nervous breakdown.”

Y/N shrugged, eyes leaving JJ to see John B ripping around the course. “It makes him happy and he’s really excited about Nathan telling him he could do well at this,” She took a sip of her soda, the cool liquid helping cool her body temperature. “I’m not going to let my worries ruin this for him.”

“You’re braver than me, girl.” Sarah shook her head, taking a drink of her own soda just as Kie and Pope turned the corner, climbing the bleachers with take out containers in their hands from the food truck parked in the parking lot.

“We got JJ and John B’s, they are on the bottom to stay warm,” Pope told the two girls, handing them two containers. “Though, I don’t know why I try since they will devour them cold by choice,” Pope shook his head, settling down beside Sarah, picking up his untouched soda. “Are they almost ready for a break anyway? They’ve been at this for hours.” He asked, popping the tab open, the carbonation hissing as it rushed out.

Glancing over at the track, Y/N shrugged. “John B will probably be done once he finishes this lap, but JJ is probably gonna take the course once more so Nathan can time him,” She explained. “He’s aiming to break his personal best.” She was proven correct when JJ pulled his helmet over his head, securing it as he nodded along to whatever Nathan was telling him, his face hidden by the dark tinted face shield.

Just as John B finished his lap, JJ revved his engine, mud slinging around as his tire spun. Y/N perked up slightly as he drove to the startline. With a flick of Nathan’s thumb, JJ took off, zipping around the track. Y/N wiggled to the edge of her seat, setting her soda and the two containers of fries on the bench beside her. Something told her to keep watching. Maybe it was that she thought he would make a new personal best or maybe JJ had been a little too good about not making reckless decisions as of late. She wasn’t too sure, but here she was hanging off of every mound and every turn as if he were competing for a national title.

Then, it all made sense when she noticed Nathan’s hands flying through the air, looking like he was telling JJ to slow down or something as he yelled into the radio that allows him to communicate with JJ. “Is that some kind of signal?” Sarah asked, her nose wrinkling as she watched Nathan’s hand movements in confusion.

“They have radio communication, he wouldn’t need to use hand signals unless JJ was training for a race,” John B, who Y/N didn’t notice had joined them, explained. He tipped his uncapped water bottle towards Nathan. “It looks like he’s stressin’. Must think JJ’s pushing himself too hard.”

The group watched with worried expressions. From where they sat, they could hear the raised voice of Nathan but they couldn’t hear what he was saying over the roar of JJ’s motor. It was a split second. A tiny movement. But it told Y/N exactly what was going on. As JJ flew by the stands, she could see the way his head stayed tilted towards her for a second too long to not be a coincidence, followed by a sudden surge of speed. “Oh, God, JJ,” She tucked her lip between her teeth. “Please don’t. Listen to Nathan.” She pleaded quietly, hoping he could sense her wishes.

“Don’t do what? What’s he doing?” Pope asked, looking at Y/N with nervous eyes. Before Y/N could react, JJ’s bike took the turn too tight, tire hitting the soft mud at such a high speed (nearly double the speed Nathan suggested probably), slinging mud and causing him to lose control. Everyone stood as the bike started to fall, flinging JJ off it, but Y/N was already running down the bleachers while Nathan ran towards him from the ground.

“JJ,” Y/N yelled, not caring that her white sneakers were getting covered in sloppy mud. Somehow, she managed to get to JJ before Nathan, dropping to her knees, ignoring the cold, uncomfortable feeling of mud shifting under her. “JJ, does anything hurt? Oh my god.” She muttered, shaking fingers trying to undo his helmet strap to pull it off, but she could barely feel any of her limbs as panic took over.

“My shoulder,” JJ’s voice was strained and muffled as Y/N still fumbled with the helmet. Finally pulling it off his head, she could see his face screwed up in pain, his other hand clutching the shoulder he landed on (and was currently laying on). “It really hurts.” He could barely open his eyes as he flopped his head back, mud matting into his blonde hair.

“His shoulder hurts, what do we do?” Y/N looked up at Nathan who turned the bike off, handing it off to John B to put away. Crouching down on the other side of JJ, he looked down at him.

“I think he popped his shoulder out of place,” Nathan observed, looking up at Y/N as she softly stoked JJ’s hair, feeling rather useless as he groaned in pain, a few tears even slipping from his shut eyes, mixing with the mud laying under him. “Let’s sit him up first, but someone has to take him to the hospital to get it set.”

“You’re not gonna go to the hospital?” Y/N asked him, eyes nearly popping out. While all of them were now adults, Nathan was in his early thirties making him more of an adult than the 19-year-olds who currently surrounded him.

A whimper from JJ made her look down at him, seeing him trying to move. Gently, she placed her hand on his chest, rubbing it to calm him down. “I’ll be right behind you guys, I just don’t have the room to drive him to the hospital comfortably in my two-seater.” He pointed over to the car park where his black Mazda MX-5 sat, backed into the spot next to the Twinkie - a hilarious sight.

“We’ll help him to the van, Y/N/N,” John B crouched down, placing his hand on Y/N’s shoulder. Startled, she looked over at him. He could see the tears building in her eyes as she blinked at him, nodding. “He’ll be okay, it’s just a popped shoulder. Remember when he broke his collarbone in freshman year? This is like that but less severe.”

He knew she already knew that, but when you see the one you love in unbearable pain, common sense tends to take a backseat. “Okay,” She muttered, looking around - needing something to take her mind off her boyfriend laying there, not being able to open his eyes from the amount of pain he was in. “I'll open the passenger seat and get it set for him-” As she spoke, she slowly took her hands from JJ, moving to stand up but her words were cut off as a hand reached out to grab her wrist.

“No, stay,” JJ spoke through clenched teeth, his eyes fluttering open to look at her. His crystal clear blue eyes were clouded by tears and laced with pain as she looked back down at him, kneeling beside him. “I need you.” He whimpered, eyes snapping closed again.

“I won’t leave you, J.” She reassured him, pressing a kiss to his cheek softly, hoping it brought him some comfort at least.

____

After a very uncomfortable drive with John B going way over every single speed limit, Y/N and JJ sat in an ER bay, the curtain shielding them from the rest of the ER. “Do you think I just dislocated it?” JJ asked, his voice hoarse. He shifted his head on the pillow, looking at Y/N. He was laying more comfortably after the doctors prescribed some pain meds, but Y/N was still treating him like a porcelain doll.

“The tests are just to make sure they aren’t missing anything, J,” She reassured him, rubbing soothing circles on his good arm. “Whatever it is, I will take good care of you.” She smiled, throwing a wink at him knowing flirty innuendos were his favourite thing ever - especially when they came from his insanely hot girlfriend.

Just as JJ opened his mouth to retort, the curtain opened with a flourish. In came the doctor, followed by two interns all sporting crisp white coats. “Okay, Mr. Maybank,” The older looking doctor spoke up, eyes on the tablet he held, clicking away on it. “We got your scans back, and it looks like you have a very minor glenoid fracture on top of your treated dislocation. Now that your dislocation has been reduced, you should feel a little more comfortable, but that fracture is gonna give you some issues,” He explained, setting the tablet down and pulling a prescription pad from his coat pocket. “I am going to prescribe you some pain medication, Hydrocodone,” He spoke as he scribbled quickly. “Also known as Vicodin. I am not going to prescribe much as it's highly addictive, I recommend only using what you need along with icing frequently and resting it for a full two weeks,” He explained, handing JJ the prescription before pulling a pamphlet from his chest pocket. “That’s a pamphlet on opioids explaining how they work, major side-effects to watch out for, and tips to avoid getting addicted to them. I like to hand them out to help patients manage their pain safely.”

“How long does the recovery take?” Y/N asked, her hand gripping JJ’s in relief.

“Typically, recovery takes a total of 12 to 16 months. Like I said, after two weeks you can return to normal activity aside from heavy-lifting, sports, or strenuous activity. Then, after a span of 6 weeks or 3 months, you can resume normal activity if your shoulder permits. I would recommend a physical therapist to help with recovery, but for now, lots of rest and my interns will put your arm in a sling.” He gave them a tight smile, nodding as he turned and left the makeshift room.

“Hear that, J. Lots of rest and you’re gonna be fine.” Y/N smiled, letting go of JJ’s hand, standing to move out of the way of the interns as they moved around, getting his arm in a sling. She busied herself with collecting his shoes as the nurses helped her dress him earlier (so she didn’t jostle his shoulder getting his clothes on. John B had been so kind as to run to their place to get him clean clothes.

“You’re all set, Mr. Maybank, we will see you in 6 weeks to check on your recovery.” With that, they also left the makeshift room, leaving the curtain open. Y/N knew they were busy people and it was just an ER, but the speed of everything made her head spin slightly.

“I think I could get used to my hot girlfriend taking care of me for two whole weeks,” JJ commented as she kneeled down in front of him from where the interns helped him sit up, his legs over the edge of the bed. She looked up at him, shooting him a scornful look. “I think restraining myself will be a little strenuous though-”

“JJ Maybank, no funny business until you are better, until you are cleared to resume all activity, any funny business is off the table,” She informed him sternly. He narrowed his eyes at her, pouting his lip. “I mean it JJ. Maybe then you will take recovery seriously.”

“If recovery means we can’t take part in my favourite pastime, then I am going to take it as serious as hell,” He remarked. “This is going to be the fastest and best recovery the doctors have ever seen. Then, you are going to have the time of your life once I am cleared.” He smirked, watching as she stood up, shaking her head.

Her smile she had been trying to fight broke free as she sat beside him, making sure to sit to his left (his uninjured side). “I am sure you will.” She whispered, pressing a kiss to his lips. The sound of multiple approaching footsteps made them pull away to see their friends slipping into the open curtain.

“Nathan is talking to your doctor, he said he would cover the medical bill,” Pope explained, pointing over his shoulder. “Good thing it was only a minor fracture, now we just have to make sure JJ actually listens during recovery.” He remarked, shooting a playful glare at the blonde. Everyone knew JJ would be a pain in the ass during recovery, always doing things he shouldn’t be doing.

“Not gonna be an issue,” Y/N spoke confidently. “We already talked about it and JJ is gonna take it very seriously,” She looked towards him, almost daring him not to keep his word when her face suddenly changed, looking like she had a question. “Why did you take that turn too fast anyway? Nathan was telling you to slow down and the course looked extra muddy today thanks to that rainstorm we just had.”

Suddenly, JJ’s cheeks tinged red in a blush and he dropped his eyes to his lap. “I wanted to impress you.” He muttered bashfully, ashamed because she endlessly told him that he impresses her every single day.

“You’re an idiot, JJ! You severely injured yourself to impress the girl who has seen you throw up on yourself.” She rolled her eyes, slightly shaking his hair, the only thing she thought she could do to not cause him more pain.

Quickly, the bashfulness was wiped from JJ’s face as a smug smile took over his face. “Well, at least I am your idiot, right?” JJ asked, making her roll her eyes at him, a large smile fighting a way onto her face as she leaned in.

“That’s why you’re an idiot for trying to impress me, you’re mine forever - regardless of idiocy.” She pressed another kiss to his lips, smiling into the kiss like a fool in love.

Pope and John B groaned at the display of affection, but Sarah and Kie cooed, hugging each other. Pope and John B started to gag as the kiss lingered, the pair of them staring into each other’s eyes intently. “Oh, shut up guys-” Kie rolled her eyes at Pope and John B.

“Y’all know you’re the reason I believe in love, ya know?” Sarah cooed, ignoring the other three, watching JJ and Y/N as if they were her favourite ship in a show. John B shot her a look, gesturing to himself before giving up. JJ and Y/N were the reason they all believed in love.

“Well, she’s the reason I believe in love.” JJ remarked, pressing another kiss to Y/N’s lips.

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mayabooowrites · 2 years

Text

Runaway?||D.M

Summary: As you and Draco start fighting more yours and his daughter decides she doesn't wanna hear it anymore and runs away

You just lay on the couch as you once again fought with your husband

You don't wanna fight with him but he just isn't caring about how everything is affecting you

He works so late and doesn't even care to mention it, you do everything around the house and he barely even helps and it's just so frustrating. And you feel like your the only one raising yours and his daughter anymore

All he does is work

And today you had to fight in the evening when Amalthea was right there watching you felt terrible the whole time but you still fought with him with her in the room

Which probably has been happening a lot more then you and Draco want

Amalthea walks over as you cry into the pillow

"Mommy?" The little 6 year old asks and you didn't want her to see you crying

"Not right now Thea." You say as you then hear her little footsteps walk upstairs and knock on the door Draco is at asking him to play

But he didn't answer her

You then hear her go to her room and you just stay face planted into the pillow until the tears finally stopped

It's been 5 minutes so you thought maybe you should go apologize to amalthea and talk with Draco again and pray it doesn't lead to another fight

You knock on the door Draco was behind

"Look can we talk." You ask and Draco opens the door

"Gonna yell at me again?" He says annoyed and you sigh

"Look I'm just stressed and feel alone and I feel like you don't care!" You say and Draco sighs

"Ok." He says and ok what? Ok your stressed? Ok you feel alone? Ok you feel like he doesn't care about you anymore? And you feel like he's always home late because he's cheating on you

"Ok what?" You said and Draco sighs

"I don't know anymore I'm sorry are we on the verge of divorcing? That's all I can think of lately so it's stressing me out more because I don't wanna lose you." Draco says and you smile

"I guess me as well I think our life is just getting too stressful and we're both not being there for each other like we should." You say and Draco walks over to you wondering if he can hug you, he so badly wants to he feels so bad for being such an arse to you and Amalthea

You both haven't been the best parents the last few weeks

"Let's go apologize to Amalthea and get her ready to bed the sun is setting soon." Draco says and you nod as you go to walk off but he first pulls you back and hugs you tightly then walks off with you to go see Amalthea

You knock on Amalthea's door to ask her if you can talk to her

But you didn't get an answer so you open the door and see her room a mess stuff was taken and Amalthea was no where to be seen

You find a letter written in crayon on her bed

Dear mama and dada

I am running away I can't handle you both arguing all the time, I just wanna play with you both but you both just fight all day makes me feel unwanted I will find a new family bye bye

Thea

You and Draco just stood their shocked not able to say anything you both did this you both weren't caring about your daughter in any of this making her feel like you both didn't want her

"I'm gonna go find her." Draco says and you stop him

"I'm coming with you and we have to contact everyone to make sure they can look for her too." You said and Draco nods as he had guilt written all over his face and you did as well

|Later|

It was so late it was starting to get dark out and you both still haven't found Thea

You were yelling her name as Draco was using a spell to try and find her he was getting more and more frustrated the more dark it got and the less you both found her

You both finally reach a park you would take Amalthea basically every week and then you and Draco got too busy and stopped taking her

"AMALTHEA!" You yell and Draco did the spell again and he then runs over to under the slide

You run over and see Amalthea with her purses full of her stuff she took and she was passed out

You start crying as you hug her tightly with Draco

"Y/n she's ice cold something is wrong, she's so pale." Draco says and you burst into more tears as Draco quickly took his jacket off and wrapped it around the shivering 6 year old in his arms trying to warm her up more as he kept muttering something

But everything was a blur now all you could think of was Thea your daughter and if she's gonna be ok

Draco finally gets up pulls you up and runs to the nearest wizarding hospital he could get to not about to let anything happen to Amalthea

You don't remember what happened but you remember Draco's screaming voice asking someone to help his daughter and healers taking Thea away from you and Draco quickly and a healer maybe asking you both to sit down now especially you as you looked like you were about to faint

Now your in the waiting room with Draco just waiting to hear something about Thea

"This is all my fault." Draco mutters and you look up at him shocked

"No we're both to blame we both weren't thinking of how it was making her feel we both weren't the best parents lately this is both of our faults." You say and Draco looks over at you and pulls you into a kiss and you kiss him back so happy to have his lips on yours again, but then the healer walks over and says you both can go see Amalthea finally

You and get up immediately and almost bolt to the room she is in she was still asleep but she looked warmer she looked better she didn't look so pale anymore she had more colour to her face again

You kneel beside her bed and kiss her forehead as you smile so happy she's ok

Draco was talking to the healer about what happened and they explain she must have eaten something and got poisoned by whatever she ate

Once they left you and Draco just stayed beside her and she woke up and saw you and Draco crying

"Thea please never leave us again we don't wanna lose you." You say and Thea sits up and hugs you and Draco both hug her tightly

"We love you so much Thea please never run away again me and your mother will never fight again just please never leave us." Draco says as he holds amaltheas tiny little hands in his and kisses her hands

"Ok." Amalthea says sleepily "I love you both." She says and you kiss her forehead

"Sleep ok darling? Me and your father are gonna go talk about when you can come home." You say and amalthea clings to you not wanting you to leave "Ok then Dad can go I'll stay." You say and Draco kisses the top of your hand and kisses theas hands one more time before leaving 'Me and Draco will from now on be better parents we can't let this happen ever again.' You think as you smile at the sleepy Thea who was drifting off to sleep again "Good night Thea sleep well my daring we love you so much we'll be better parents from now on I promise." You say and amalthea smiles as you move her bangs out of her eyes

"I love you and daddy too."

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monacodaydreaming · 2 years

Text

Don’t Fall In Love With Me | Part Three

The music pounded through your body. You could feel the bass vibrate inside every part of you. This was nothing like you had ever experienced before. You didn’t go to clubs, you didn’t live a lavish lifestyle despite what outsiders might assume because of your job and who you were. However being in this environment was way outside your comfort zone.

By this point in the night you had had three pornstar and you were tipsy. This was something that else that might surprise people, but normally you didn’t consume alcohol beyond maybe one glass of wine or a single gin and tonic and yet. Here you were 5 drinks down and on the verge of becoming a stumbling mess.

You’d spent the whole night pressed firmly against Daniels side. He’d taken you round and introduced you to all those who had joined the night out. Including some of the drivers; Pierre, Charles, who was one of the loveliest boys you had ever met. Lando, Sebastian, who you wanted to adopt you. Max and George. You and Chris had settled into the group nicely. Chris was bonding with them over sport whilst you had spent some time getting to know the girlfriends of some of the drivers.

Charlotte, Charles’ girlfriend was an absolute sweetheart. She had introduced you to all the other girls and had kept a close eye on you any time you were away from either Chris or Daniel. Which wasn’t too often to be honest.

“I think that we should all go and dance!” Charlotte yelled to you all over the loud music. You pulled a face indicating that you were overly keen for the idea. “Oh come on Ellie! Whilst we’re away from the boys let’s go!” The rest of girls chimed in that they were happy to go so you gave in and she grabbed your hand pulling you up from the table. You followed her through the crowd of people. As you were being led down to the dance floor, you caught eyes with Daniel who was stood with Chris and Charles engaged in what looked like a relatively intense discussion about something. He smiled as you raised your eyebrows at you before he disappeared out of view.

You descended the steps down onto the dance floor and danced with Charlotte and the other girls. Suddenly the alcohol in your body sunk in even more and you found your body swaying in time to the music. You hadn’t danced like this in a club since you were probably about 18 or 19. When you hit 20 you got your first big acting role in the Marvel franchise and ever since then work became life and fun like this, didn’t really happen anymore.

You were snapped away from your own thoughts when you felt a pair of hands on your waist from behind you. “I’m convinced you are trying to kill me.” Daniels Australian accent rasped into your ear. You smiled at his words and spun round in his hands so that you were facing him.

“Now why sir, would I want to do that?” You teased playfully.

“I’m gonna need you to not call me sir, whilst looking like that with your body pressed up against me please.”

“Oh I can always-“ you started to back away from him when his grip on you tightened.

“Definitely not what I meant.”

“Thank you for inviting me tonight.”

“Thank you for accepting my offer.”

“As fun as this evening has been, I think I may have reached the limit on my social battery.” Daniel didn’t say anything, waiting for you to continue. “I think I’m going to head back to my hotel now.” You carried on, but he still didn’t say anything. “Will you join me?” He looked slightly taken aback by your request. “And I don’t mean for…that.” He let out a small laugh at your words. “I just mean, I’m leaving early tomorrow and whilst I’m done being here, I’m not done getting to kno-“ You were cut off by Daniel pressing a deep but quick kiss to your lips. You instinctively grabbed the back of his head whilst his hands were still on your waist before he pulled away from you.

“Shall we say bye to everyone?” You nodded at him and quickly turned to the girls explaining that you and Daniel were going to head out. They all let out the same irritating and suggestive squeal which you quickly hushed, embarrassed because Daniel was still stood behind you with a hand on your waist. You then headed back to the booth that you had all been acquiring all evening to say goodbye to the boys. Each of them gave you a hug goodbye.

“Is he just taking you home?” Chris questioned when you got round to him.

“No he’s going to stay with me.”

“Remember we fly early tomorrow morning. Don’t have too much fun.” Chris dropped you a wink, you pulled him in for a hug goodbye.

“I’ll see you tomorrow Evans. Get home safe.”

“See you tomorrow Love.”

You departed Chris and walked over to Daniel who grabbed your hand and began to lead you from the club. He had already called his driver who had informed him that he was waiting outside the club for you both. The minute you stepped outside you were greeted by the bright flashes of cameras. Daniel gripped your hand tighter and pulled you closer to him. You brought your hand up to your face to protect your eyes from the bright flashes. They were constant and were causing your vision to go blurry. You couldn’t help but stumble into Daniels side. He wrapped his arm around you and helped you into the car.

When you were both safely inside you heard him speak to you. “Ellie are you okay?” He questioned placing a hand over yours that rested on the seat in between the two of you. Your eyes were squeezed tightly shut in an attempt to ease the pain in your head and the blurriness of your vision. “Ellie?” He questioned you again.

You opened your eyes and slowly turned to him, planting a fake smile on your face. “Yes, I’m sorry. I’m okay, the lights just made my eyes go all funny.” He nodded at your response. Although you weren’t entirely sure by the expression on his face whether he believed you or not.

You kicked off your heels the minute you stepped inside and strolled over to your bed where you fell onto you back and let out a long sigh. “I’m getting too old for that.”

“Are you trying to insult me?” You let out an abrupt laugh before promptly sitting up from the bed. You almost forgot about you age difference with Daniel. He was 33 making him nearly 10 years older than you, however the age difference didn’t bother you in the slightest.

“Not at all Grandpa.” You said with a slight devilment.

“It sounds a little like you’re trying to insult me…” He trailed off as he was taking steps closer towards you.

“Now why would I ever want to do that?” You were teasing him, and he was biting. He was moving closer to you still.

“I don’t know..to throw me off guard maybe. To try and gain the upper hand in the relationship.”

You quirked an eyebrow at him as he was now stood directly in front of you as you were sat on the edge of your bed. “Let’s not fool ourselves here, I think we both know I already have the upper hand in this relationship.”

He was leaning down now with a smirk on his face. He’d placed one hand by your side as he came closer to your face. “Oh really?”

“Yes, real-“ You were cut off by his lips attaching to yours. You sunk into his kiss grabbing his tshirt and pulling him closer to you. He began to climb onto the bed as you were scootching back still pulling him down with you. “I didn’t bring you here for this” You interrupted your kiss to speak quickly.

“I know” He mumbled back against your lips, but continued running his hands up your sides sending shivers through your whole body.

“No really.” You said again in between your passionate make-out session. “I don’t do this…ever”

“I believe you.” You continued for a little while longer before you eventually broke away from the kiss. Daniel rolled to the side of you, and lay on the bed facing you. “I don’t see much of you in the press.”

You also rolled to your side so that you were now facing him. “I try to keep to myself, I don’t really enjoy everyone knowing my business.”

“I get that, it can too intrusive.”

“Completely. Sometimes I even think about deleting my instagram.” Daniel raised your eyebrows at that. “But then I think about missing out on stalking all my friends and fans and I get sad.” He let out a little laugh. “Plus, I get endless enjoyment from turning down men in my DM’s” This seemed to amuse Daniel even more.

“Who have you had in your DM’s that I would know?”

“What personally or..?” He gave a little jab to your stomach.

“Wait…” he paused “Do I know anyone who’s been in your DM’s personally?”

You couldn’t help but laugh at him. “I don’t think so….although, actually Jenson Button did message me a few years ago.”

Daniels mouth dropped open at your statement and you couldn’t help be laugh. “Are you serious? Button tried to slide in the DM’s!” He was laughing now. “Oh my god, this is amazing.”

You gave him a playful hit on the arm. “It was years ago Daniel, it was like right after I first starred in the Avengers.”

“Is he not like old enough to be your dad?”

“I mean technically…probably yeah, but who cares?” Daniels eyebrows quirked. “He’s cute.”

“You think Buttons cute?”

“God yeah, he’s stunning.”

“Hmm..I’m going to be having words with him about this.”

“Okay would you rather….. fight off 100 toddlers OR…one giant baby?” You questioned him before popping a fry into your mouth. A couple of hours had passed since you’d got back from the club and you had both changed into comfies. You had taken off your makeup and decided that ordering room service was a good idea.

You were lying on the floor of your hotel room answering stupid would you rather questions.

“When you say giant..”he paused pondering over the idea. “How giant are we talking?”

“We’re talking giant like, it’s as tall as the ceiling.” Daniel rolled onto his back and looked up at the ceiling of the room.

“That’s one big baby.” You couldn’t help but laugh at his words. “I’m gonna have to go 100 toddlers, because realistically. We all know who’s winning that fight.”

“The toddlers right?” He threw a fry at you for that. Your phone buzzed beside you and you picked it up to have a look. “Jesus Daniel its 4:30am.”

“It’s what?”

“It’s 4:30 in the morning.”

“It can’t be.” He took a look at his own phone in disbelief. “Jesus it’s 4:30 in the morning.”

“I have to leave for the airport in three hours.” You dropped your face onto the floor. “Fuck sake.”

“It’s okay, lets go to bed now. I’ll make sure that you’re up in time to leave.” Daniel pushed himself off the floor and picked up the food, putting it on the table before coming back over to you and squatting down. “Come on Ells, you need to get some sleep.”

“Can’t move” you mumbled into the carpet. So he stood up and hovered over your back before leaning down and hoisting you up from the waist. You let out a squeal as you were lifted to your feet and you rested back into him. He started to slowly walk backwards until the back of his legs hit the bed and then he dropped down taking you with him. You rolled off of him and onto the space next to him before getting under the covers.

“Night Ells.” He whispered to you.

“Night Danny.”

“You have to text me when you land.”

“Obviously.”

“And then text me when you actually get home.”

“If you want me to.”

“Please.” You pulled the handle on your suitcase up and turned to look at Daniel who was stood a few feet away.

“I’ve had the most amazing weekend.” You said coyly looking down at your nervous, fiddling fingers.

“Come to Spain next weekend.” Your head shot up at his words.

“What?”

He took a few steps towards you and grabbed a hold of your hands.

“Come back next weekend, we’re racing in Spain.”

“I can’t just come and intrude again.”

“It’s not intruding if I’ve asked you to come.”

You wanted to come back, of course you did, but there were things you needed to see about at home first. “I’m not saying no.” He looked deflated instantly. “But I do need to check some things before I say yes.” He nodded at your words. You leant forward and placed your hands on either side of your face bringing him in for a kiss. “I have to go.” You whispered against his lips. “I’ll text you”

He nodded before kissing you again. “Safe flight love.”

“Bye Danny.”

#daniel ricciardo #daniel ricciardo imagine #daniel ricciardo fanfic #daniel ricciardo fanfiction #daniel ricciardo one shot #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo x you #daniel ricciardo x y/n #f1 #formula one #f1 imagine #formula one imagine #f1 one shot #formula one one shot #f1 fanfic

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radarsteddybear · 8 months

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Highlights (or should I say lowlights?) from the Making of Frozen II documentary on Disney+:

It is important to note that the documentary begins 11 months from the film's premiere. At this point, the movie's already been in production for like 4 years.

The female director (Jennifer Lee) looks to be inches away from a mental breakdown the entire time

Jennifer Lee is also the film's writer and at one point describes getting up at a quarter to five every day so that she can write from 5am-7am, get her daughter to school, goes to work all day, comes home, does whatever is needed at home, then writes some more. On Saturdays, she writes from 5am-1pm. I don't know anything about the process of making an animated (or non-animated, for that matter) film, but it seems absolutely unhinged to me that so much script writing is required this late in production. Especially coupled with how much of the film's plot and motivation are still unknown at this point.

Jennifer Lee was also promoted to Chief Creative Officer or something at some point in there, so she has a million and one things to do for that on top of everything for Frozen II.

So, yeah. She seems to be in a constant state of being on the verge of tears and is only holding it together through sheer willpower.

Disney seems to be trying to pass this off as joy and happiness and excitement about pieces of the film finally coming together, and Lee probably believes that's what it is, too, but I think this woman just needs some sleep.

The script finally gets locked 5 months out from the film's premiere. Which, like, I totally get having it open for edits along the way, but this was. a lot more than just edits.

It takes them ages to figure out who/what the voice calling to Elsa is and where she's following it to, which is like. the entire plot of the film. And in my opinion (and from what I remember, having only seen the film once back when it came out), as a result, this is one of the weakest plot points in the whole movie, which is really unfortunate because it has everything else it needs to hit really solidly.

5 months from the premiere, they keep talking about how everyone's putting in 14 hour days 6 days a week, and they keep referring to it as overtime, but I have no idea whether or not the animators and visual effects artists and everyone else working on the film actually get paid overtime? I sure hope so (which leads to another question: is the money actually worth it?), but in this economy, I wouldn't be surprised if they didn't.

At one point, one of the supervising animators talks about how he spends the whole day split between meetings and supporting the animators so he has to come back to work after putting his kids to bed to actually get his own animating done. He describes this as a "treat" because he enjoys animating so much.

Disney (and other studios, I'm sure) needs to get their act together re: division of labor and organizing everyone's time, wow.

The visual effects artist who did Elsa's dress transformations in both Frozen I and II: "In Frozen I, I had a year. But this, it's been...four days." (Note: It does end up being more than 4 days, but, uh...not by much.)

I seriously think the movie, especially the story, would have been better if everyone could have taken like. a month off from work

The film's editor talsk about working 14-15 hour days, getting up at 3am so he can get to work by 3:30, use the on-site gym for half an hour, then start editing by 4am. Whoever's in charge of setting all these timelines and whatnot is in desperate need of taking a course in proper time management because this is unhinged.

I wonder if all the Frozen II statues/decor Disney put up around the animation studio towards the end of production come out of the film's budget.

It's fun to get to watch the actors record their lines and songs, though.

As was watching the animator who did part of Kristoff's song with all the reindeer put videos of her own face in the scene to figure out how she was going to animate them all.

#original post #/#//#///#////#/////#Frozen II #Frozen 2 #Into the Unknown: The Making of Frozen II #Disney #I am exhausted on behalf of all the people making this film #Teddy Bear musings

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southpawbitch · 1 year

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Eleven | De Facto | Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Caroline "Casper" Kazansky

(18+, minors dni)

Masterlist

A/N: eleven!!! and officially the end of the "flashback" !!! feel like I kinda rushed through the ending, but I'm really excited to get back to the present. as always, let me know if you want to be added to the taglist and pls let me know what you think :) happy reading!!

x MJ

Ever since she saw that picture in Jake’s apartment, Caz has distanced herself from him–not physically, but emotionally. She chuckles to herself at the thought. From the very beginning, she knew what they were doing was wrong, sure, but she thought if Jake didn’t feel bad about it, then why should she.

After seeing Laurel with the biggest smile on her face, standing next to Jake, she realized why. Jake painted this picture for her of his relationship, and she just imagined that there was no life in it. He made her feel like she was breathing new life into him with every late night drive or stolen glances at the bar in front of everyone they know. In the picture, though, she saw that life. She saw the little eye wrinkles as he flashed a beautiful and genuine smile, holding onto his girl tightly. He looked just like he looks when he’s with her. The frame was dated one month before she met him at Top Gun.

It’s all a ruse.

He either loves them both, which isn’t an option for Caz because she doesn’t believe in love–the situation she’s put herself in is exactly the reason why–or, this is just who he is. He cheats on his girlfriend whenever he’s stationed and away from her, and he moves on quickly. He’s charming and attractive and incredibly difficult, but she knows that’s what women fall for. If it worked on her, it could work on anyone. Someone who is a better person than she is probably would’ve stayed away the moment they realized he was engaged. She chuckles dryly to herself at the fact that he told her he was engaged before even trying anything. What does that say about her?

Her sadness and guilt are quickly washed away by anger and annoyance. She picks up her placement papers and marks her decision in ink before folding it up and sliding it into the envelope with her other paperwork, sealing it shut and taking a trip to base on her off day to make sure Hutchins gets this ASAP before she makes any more irrational life decisions.

They roll away from each other on the king sized bed, attempting to catch their breath. She’s not proud of herself, but she wanted the last few weeks of training to go as smoothly as possible, and continuing on like nothing ever changed seemed like the least messy way to go about it. Once she graduates, she’ll never have to see him again if she doesn’t want to. She can block his number and pray she forgets he even exists.

“Can we talk?” Jake questions, turning to the side to look at Caz. She keeps her gaze fixed on the ceiling above. She’s not mad at the current situation–her naked in bed next to him, satisfied–but she does wish they were at her place instead of his. Training finished up this week, and next week is graduation. Placement papers are due tomorrow, but she turned hers in weeks ago. Jake doesn’t know that.

“About what?” She questions, finally turning to lay on her side, facing him. She looks so heavenly like this, barely covered up with his white sateen sheets. She cracks a smile, playing the part of someone who’s still interested in whatever any of this is. It hurts her, though. She wishes she could believe the words that come out of Jake’s mouth more than anything, but that’s not an option anymore. He led her to believe he wasn’t happy with his incredibly gorgeous, loving, successful girlfriend. If he can lie about that, he can lie about pretty much anything.

“Me, you, us.” He says simply and it takes everything in her not to reach over and slap him in the face. She’s on the verge of tears, but she’d never let it show. Not to him–not anymore.

“There is no ‘us’.” She reminds him simply, keeping her composure for the time being. “There’s me and there’s you, but–”

“I love you, Caroline.” He cuts off her words and nearly sends her into cardiac arrest all in a few words. She has always been fairly certain that she’d never hear anyone say that to her, at least in a romantic sense, and she’s pissed that he took the first time away from her with some meaningless, last-ditch effort to keep whatever they have going alive for a little while longer. Do women really fall for this shit? She fears she might have if she hadn’t made that huge revelation at his place a few weeks ago.

“I know that’s not something you want to hear, but I know you must feel it, too.” His voice is barely above a whisper now as he sits up. She follows suit, still in shock. She feels the tears begin to form in her eyes, but she wills them not to fall. She’ll be damned if she cries like a heartbroken baby in front of him.

Heartbroken. Is that what this feeling is? He didn’t betray her in so many words–he saved that for his fiancee who will never have any idea about any of this, she’s sure, but he tricked her into thinking he’s this person that he’s just not. She hates to admit that she had actual feelings for him–maybe love, but she isn’t entirely sure. It feels silly now to call it that, at least on her end. If it was love, it was love brought on by a lie.

“You’re lying to yourself if you think this is love.” She struggles out. She believes it, but she can’t deny the feelings that she felt before shit hit the fan with them. Her mother always told her that love is easy, and that’s how it felt for nearly five months. Nothing is easy with Jake now.

“You’re lying to yourself if you don’t.” He knew this would be her reaction. He’s been feeling her pull away because of the circumstances surrounding his other relationship and the realness of theirs. He’s not surprised, but he’d hate himself for letting her go without telling her. His words sting–maybe because he’s right. He’ll never get the satisfaction in that, though. “I’m going to break up with Laurel…break off the engagement.” He breathes out, hoping it might make her feel differently.

I love you. I’m leaving her. It’s textbook cheater shit. She can’t believe it. The longer she looks at Jake, the angrier she gets. His words are beginning to taint every memory the two of them have shared together. Fuck the beautiful sunsets and slurpees and late nights drives. Fuck the sneaking around and stolen glances at work. It’s all so childish and meaningless now.

“Don’t do that.” She warns him, scooting back from him on the bed as she gets up and struggles to find her clothes that are strewn around the room. Panic sets in. His words replay in her mind as she pulls her bra on.

“I don’t love her, Caroline…not like I love you, anyway.” He corrects himself, trying to be as open and honest as possible as he watches her get dressed. “Let’s just pick a place and go and be together. That’s all I’m asking.” The thought might be romantic if she cared about any of that. That’s not what she wants, and even if she did, she wouldn’t want it to happen this way–so ugly and messy and wrong. She thinks of her parents' love story. She can’t imagine telling a story like this to her kids one day. The thought makes her feel sick. The beginning and end might be fucked up, but the middle…that’s a different story.

So many thoughts are running through her mind. She’s torn between what she’s believed to be true about herself for the past twenty-four years and what she’s starting to figure out about herself now. What she wants in this moment is so vastly different than what she thought she would want, but she knows she’s just having a moment of weakness. Jake seems to do that to her. The only thing she’s sure about is that she has to get the hell out of here–away from Jake and his stupid, perfect face and beautiful eyes.

“I can’t give you what you want.” She tells him as she pulls her shorts on and grabs the oversized sweatshirt laying a few feet away. She can’t believe he’s even suggesting it–knowing her feelings on a relationship like that from the start. Maybe he thinks he can manipulate her into thinking it’s what she wants now–maybe he already has.

“All I want is you.” He’s begging and pleading with his eyes, but his body stays frozen in on the spot, watching as she gets ready to leave. He knows when she walks out of that door, it’s not going to be easy to get her back. He’s prepared for that. He didn’t think she would be easy to convince, and he’s willing to do anything–everything–to make it right. If that’s even possible at this point.

If all he wanted was her, he would’ve ended things with his fiancee the moment that his feelings started to shift. She knows this. He knows this, but they both know it’s not that simple–nothing about their situation is simple. How was he supposed to know that meeting her would turn his life completely upside down, making him question everything he’s ever thought he wanted in life? Despite the fact that she’s completely rejecting him right now, he knows it’s what he needs to do. He can’t marry Laurel and pretend like he hasn’t completely fallen head over heels for another woman. He knows he can never be as happy with her as he once was, knowing that he could feel like this with someone else.

“Don’t end your engagement, Jake. Marry her and have the life you want with kids and a dog and all of that shit. You deserve it.” The words nearly tear her apart from the inside out, but she holds her composure long enough to grab her things and leave hastily. Jake doesn’t follow. Her words sting. He does deserve it. He deserves to have the life he promised someone else. His wants and needs will be pushed to the side and his chances of ever loving like this again will be doomed.

Caz leaves so hastily she forgets the small, golden ring that she left on the vanity tray in Jake’s bathroom when they showered together earlier. Her most prized possession and a huge piece of her heart are left with Jake that day.

Taglist: @starkleila @luckyladycreator2 @taytaylala12 @what-a-ginger-nymph @novagreen04 @dempy

#jake seresin #jake seresin fanfic #jake seresin x oc #jake seresin fanfiction #jake hangman seresin #hangman seresin #hangman x oc #hangman fanfiction #jake hangman x reader #top gun maverick fanfiction #top gun fanfiction #top gun fanfic #top gun #top gun maverick

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shippy-pjo-shipper · 2 years

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Racheleo ~ Colors

It was stupid. So stupid I wasn't even sure of how it all started. Stupidly, for sure.

CHB was at war and it was his fault. Or mine ? Okay, maybe it was our fault, but really, he's the one who took it to the next level first !

What was it he said again ? Oh, yeah. 'Fire is orange and fire is my thing, paint palette. Consequently I win and you loose !'

He looked so smug and proud of his little triumph that I'm sure he practiced it beforehand.

Seriously, I never heard Leo use the word 'consequently' before.

I think the applause got to his head. When really there was nothing that impressing. I knew Festus enough to not be impressed by his little show. No matter how many fireworks were at use. Orange fireworks.

When you know how beautiful the sunset before which it all started was the week before, that was a real shame.

She was at the top of the cliff, admiring the sky and its colors, paintbrush in hand, and a look of concentration on her face. Leo was there too, smiling but empty handed.

He was looking at her. She knew it. He loved to do that. That must have been what attracted her to him first : how he looked at her like a work of art, rather than the crazy artist seemingly on the verge of killing everyone in the room, if only with terrifying prophecies or a blue hairbrush.

And all it took to ruin this beautiful moment was one off comment.

"Orange is such a pretty color. I can't believe no god claimed it as their trademark."

That in itself was okay. But she never should have continued.

"Well, that way I can make it mine."

The rest of the conversation was blurry but I was sure it was stupid.

All I remembered was that it ended with a handshake and a stolen kiss. And after that started an entire week of handling his stunts.

Gods know I tried to let it slide. I tried keeping it low. But that's impossible. Not with Leo.

And slowly but surely, the silence of peace turned into a silence before the storm. And everyone at camp could feel it.

Some tried to reason with us : "But colors belong to everyone."

"Orange suits you both."

"Maybe try different shades of it."

"...You do realize that everyone in CHB wears orange ?"

They were missing the point !

It's not about the color. It's not about them. It's not even about us arguing because there was no argument !

Actually we love each other even more during stupid squabbles like this.

No. It's about rendering the person we loved to listen to the most in this world speechless.

And by the end of the week, he was. Not just him, but the whole camp.

Had I thought this through ? Yes. Had I realized the terrible consequences it could have ? Yes. Did I still value the joy of imagining Leo's happy and proud smile seeing my work above them ? Also yes.

And he did not disappoint. The spark in his eyes and the way his lips curved in a clear way to hold his laughter back was enough to let mine slide. He soon followed my lead.

So here I was, running across Camp, Leo on my toes, both using the chaos to hide ourselves as much as possible. But surely running in the opposite direction of everyone must have attracted the attention of one or two campers. Especially when it was 'Dare & Valdez' doing so.

I used to wonder why campers put it in that order. As if I was the worst troublemaker of the pair. But running away from the Big House and a Dionysus covered in orange paint, I think I started to understand.

Leo was holding onto my hand as if his life depended on it. Which honestly probably did trusting the God of wine's cries of outrage.

Coming from him who never used another voice than one full of tiredness and disinterest, yes, it was meant to be scary.

But as we were finally away enough to not hear or see any form of life, Leo suddenly took the lead to guide us toward the woods.

If I didn't trust him that much, I would have planted my heels in the ground to insist on leading them where I first intended, my cave. I was more than strong enough to do so. But I complied, quickly understanding his plan.

***

"We should be safe here." He said as he activated the last lock on the massive door. "You truly believe what you're saying ?" "Not in the slightest, babe."

The bunker 9 was an obvious place for us to hide in, but no one would ever be able to get into it before Leo said so. So it would do for now.

We were in complete darkness before he enlightened his hand, letting me exclusive view on his proud grin, pointy ears, soft eyes and shiny curls.

How long was it since the last time I drew him ? Too long. I had to get back to it quick.

I was so entranced with my idea that I barely noticed his smugness as he was finding the interruptor right before light burst into the whole bunker.

The cute bastard. I couldn't help but think when all the usually white and yellow light turned out to be of a soft and not as blinding orange.

"Nice attempt at overstepping me. I think it easily deserves a second place." I wasn't about to let him think he won even for a second.

"The winner had to prove orange was theirs. My bunker. My orange light bulbs. My color."

The artist in me overtook the other parts of my brain once more at his words. He does look even better bathed in this colored light.

I tried to focus on something, else, looking around as if I didn't already know everything about this place that I had drawn so many times. But when I brought my eyes back on him, I was surprised to see him look at me, though more my whole me, rather than my eyes or even face.

And as I studied his look for a second, I knew he must have seen it around me too, this aura.

And with one last shared look, everything was said. Yes. Orange was our color. Orange was love's true color.

Without another word I went to grab the snacks Leo always put in the top drawer while I heard him lay a blanket down and turn the cracked TV on.

"Splatoon ?" Bless Hephaestus and Esperanza Valdez for bringing to this world the first demigod ever capable of allowing us access to video games.

"I'm gonna kick you ass." "And I'm gonna paint yours."

And with that, we both sat down, cuddling, as if dozens of kids with superpowers weren't after us. Who cares ? She just had to pretend a prophecy told her to do so. That wouldn't be the first time.

Yes it was stupid. Everyone knew that and the two of them even more. But they didn't care. They loved being stupid. They missed being stupid. And thanks the gods who put them in this hardship of a life, they also gave them each other. Making sure the orange fire and the orange tempest would never be apart.

@them-awesome-rarepairs

#pjorarepairs2022 #racheleo #valdare #leo x rachel #leo valdez x rachel dare #leo valdez #rachel dare #rachel elizabeth dare #colors #fanfiction #my fanfiction #shippys

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gehenna-calling · 1 year

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2,8,10 & 18 for any of your oc’s!!

oo let's go! i'll probably pick and choose who to answer for which one

this got Long, so i'll put it under the cut!

2. Does your oc have any nicknames? How did they get these nicknames?

i think lyssa is the only one of my characters who has any nicknames? unless you count "des" for desdemona, but that's just a shortening i use because it takes so long to type her name regular malk lyssa gets called "lyssie" by mars, her primogen/semi-sibling/closest remaining friend, which i think is very cute. tremere lyssa also has nicknames - lizzie, for obvious reasons (which is funny because she's definitely gone by that name before but the player who came up with the nickname doesn't know), "queen of the blood-fuelled arts", and ooc "starscream lyssa" because that's basically her whole character archetype in this au.

8. What is your oc’s relationship status? Are they content with this?

all of my ocs are currently single because i have no idea how to get my characters into relationships with other people's characters 😔 but the in character reasons for this vary: lyssa (in both iterations) is aroace and very happy to be single! actually, not entirely true - og lyssa is aware she's aroace and is perfectly fulfilled without romantic relationships, as she has plenty of other close friends and a found-family dynamic with the other malks. tremyssa is, of course, weird and fucked up about this as she is about all things, and thinks she's morally superior for not being "weighed down" by romantic and sexual attraction. hellebore is single... kind of by choice? they've been in relationships before, and was in love in a relationship for a pretty long time until they were forced to break things off for the good of their partner. (it's a whole tragic story, i will elaborate on this at some point) working for the ivory tower does not do many favours for your interpersonal relationships. hellebore will claim to themself and others that they made the right choice, but... they're still lonely. desdemona's whole THING is that she is deeply unfortunately single. she's still not over her ex, who broke up with her thirty years ago, and hopes desperately that one day they'll be together again. while waiting for miranda to come back into her unlife, she's not really interested in a new relationship. ever has spent the last couple of months living a nightmare and is not really in a position to be dating. honestly at this point contact with ANYONE who isn't their sire or a mortal they're about to feed from would be good for them. maybe i should set them up with someone, i say, like an overly-involved mother

10. What’s your oc’s greatest weakness?

ooo this is a fun one. it's hard to pinpoint Just One weakness for lyssa bc her motivations are so all over the place (and i play her quite inconsistently) but i'd say it's her aversion to conflict and unwillingness to pick a side - she wants everyone to get along and to smooth everything over, so she's not willing to step out of line. tremyssa's weakness is her lack of control of her temper - the fact she's constantly on the verge of snapping and trying to pull all of the blood out of someone's body. the fact she thinks she has great self-control is just the funny cherry on top. hellebore's weakness is their utter inability to open up to or trust anyone else. nobody trusts them because they're so guarded and suspicious, they're guarded and suspicious because nobody trusts them, so on and so forth. des' is that she's generally a soft and decadent creature - she doesn't want anything to be difficult, so she's easily manipulated by what she wants. ever is. a troubled beast. i would identify their need for people to like them as their biggest weakness - they're so much a people pleaser, they don't really have a concept of their own identity any more.

18. What’s your oc’s relationship like with their family?

hmm this is a fun one because families are one of the things i tend to neglect in a character's backstory, despite how important it is. lyssa's mortal family is all dead now, but she was reasonably close with them when she was alive - she looks back on them with fondness. tremyssa is Solidly Neutral on her pre-embrace life... however i do think she maybe killed her husband shortly after being embraced. that would make sense i have Nothing for hellebore's family - all i know is that they were a pickpocket on their own when they were embraced at some point in their late teens, so maybe their family were already dead or they ran away from home. des was pretty close with her family i think? but she did leave them to go travelling with her sire without much of a second thought, so not that close. not sure about ever yet. they're the one most likely to encounter their family again, as their parents are probably still alive, so i'll see what i can come up with to really twist the knife there.

okay that ended up being way more than expected. thank you for asking!!

#answered ask #lyssa #tremyssa #hellebore #desdemona #ever #everett #isa

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oseathepebble · 2 years

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❝ i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to make you cry. ❞

Look, Damien forgot that Dom is a softie. Hehehe, this may or may not add to her overblot~.

"I'm Sorry" Starters

❝ i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to make you cry. ❞

What started out as a bad morning, turned into a bad day for Damien. Everything that could possibly go wrong went wrong and it kept piling up until Damien was on the verge of snapping

He walked around with an even more unapproachable aura and when students saw him, they'd quickly walk past him or turn around and walk away to avoid even going near him. Though he was mostly used to that

Everyone could sense he wanted to be left alone, but there was always that one person who wouldn't care. Today that person was Dom

As Damien was walking back to his dorm room, Dom came up behind him. She jumped up onto him, making him lose balance for a second. "Hey Choco!~" She greeted him in a cheery voice

"Gah! Dom! Get off me!" Damien grabbed her collar and forcibly took her off of him. He resumed his walk back to his room

But Dom didn't give up on trying to talk to him. "Oi Choco don't ignore me! I'm bored and I wanna hang out with you!" She began poking his cheek as they walked

Damien's eye twitched. "Stop," He demanded, but after she kept going, he grabbed her hand and squeezed it tight. "I said stop. I don't feel like entertaining you today. I'm tired and rather be left alone. Do you understand what that means? Alone? You should because that's how you're gonna end up in the end if you find being annoying entertaining. You know I really don't understand why you bothering people to be fun. Some people actually have stuff they'd rather do than be around you," He let go of her hand

Dom lip quivered as she listened to Damien's every word. She tried to prevent herself from crying, but it didn't work. Tears began to flow from her eyes as she ran off

Damien let out a sigh. He was finally alone, but he felt a pang of guilt in his stomach. He chose to ignore it and go back to his room

After a few hours, Damien laid in bed awake. He couldn't help but think about how he made Dom cry. He couldn't leave things like that. He couldn't let another friendship be ruined due to his hurtful words

He got up and quietly made his way to Dom's room. He knocked on the door and hoped she was still awake. "Dom. Are you awake?" He asked

Dom was awake. She walked up to the door, but didn't open it. "What do you want Damien," Her voice was raspy, probably from crying

"I'm. . . I'm sorry for making you cry. I had a bad day and was in a bad mood. I didn't mean anything I said. . ." Damien said. He placed his hand on the door. "I know I'm an asshole and you have every right to be mad at me. But I really don't want to ruin our friendship. You're the only one, besides Adrian, who had stuck around. . . despite everything. . ."

Dom listened to his words. She debated on forgiving him or not. She knew she could probably get something out of this if she didn't forgive him right away. But eventually, she decided to just forgive him

She opened the door just enough for Damien to see her face. "Do you really mean it?" She asked, it was clear that even though she was going to forgive him, she was a bit hesitant still

Damien nodded. "Yeah. . . I mean it. . ." He looked into her eyes, there was no ounce of hatred behind his gaze

Dom fully opened the door and immediately hugged him tightly. It shocked Damien at first, but eventually, he hugged back. The two stayed like that for a bit. Just them and the stillness of the night

#damien marwood #dom yuu vali #oc interaction #twisted wonderland #twst #twst oc

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sevenxvirtuesx · 2 years

Note

"Yuki, have you seen my letterman jacket?" Beelzebub didn't mean to barge into her room so rudely, but he needed to find it before he was made to leave for an away game. This would have been a perfectly normal question to ask, since she was the last to do laundry, except he walked in without a shirt. Arms and chest exposed, but face set with unease, the poor demon seemed on the verge of panic.

"Coach said if I lose it again, he's not getting me another one. Oh, I can't find my jersey too. If I don't get them back before we leave for the game tonight, I'm gonna get in trouble."

it was fairly normal for the brothers to barge into her room - even luke had rushed into her room before, and simeon. though on that occasion she’d had to reassure them it was perfectly okay to come into her room, that they had a good reason to be there, and that they didn’t need to go back outside to knock and re-enter.

so when her door had all her burst open, yuki hadn’t started too much.

of course, the sight before her was… not quite the same as normal. not that she was complaining. well, not that she was doing all that much of anything because she was pretty much just staring at his chest and she could not believe how long it took her to drag her eyes away. unbelievable - both his chest and her reaction. was she red? a finger idly went to her cheek, giving it a scratch - a little warm, but no she wasn’t blushing. that was good.

she shook her head, then furrowed her brow as she began to focus on what beel was saying and rather than how he looked (jeez, if one of them just focused on how she looked instead of paying attention she’d have gone off on them…)

“oh! so that’s why- yup, got it, i mean i see. that’s a big problem,” she managed to get out, at least sounding and feeling genuinely sympathetic at the end. beel was a good player, and she figured he really loved to play. he had the talent and ability, accentuated by hard work. but yeah… things like this did slip his mind fairly often.

“I did some laundry the other day…” she said, thinking aloud. “you and your brothers heaped a pile of stuff on there too.” not that she minded, they did loads for her. but when levi had thrown in a few of his cosplay outfits she’d given them back in NO uncertain terms and told him hell no. “you’re jacket was totally there, the jersey must have been too!”

problem solved right? cause she had washed and done a few bits of ironing and the guys had collected their stuff. the only issue was then he’d have to put on a top and— “uh.. i didn’t… well, i didn’t give it back. not that i still have it, i don’t think, everyone came and got their things. asmo had a massive pile.”

she got off the bed quickly, hurrying to the wardrobe to look through it. not a lot of her things had been ironed and she’d kept it separate from the guys. “i mean, i WOULD wear your jacket and jersey but i swear on this occasion i don’t have it.” what could she say? maybe she was cheap, or maybe she just liked the make of guys stuff. or who it belonged to. she wouldn’t be opposed to a jersey of his.

but it definitely wasn’t in her room.

she knelt on the ground by her bottom drawer, thinking quickly and quietly. for beel. she would help him for sure. but they were running out of time and…

yuki groaned, getting up quickly. “we should hurry. like i said, ASMO had this huge pile of clothes. it probably got mixed up with his things and, uh, i did just see on devilgram that he was planning on repurposing different shirts and making some of his own mixed designs.”

she reached out, to take his hand if she would let him, and giving him a massive grin. “better hurry before he tries something with your stuff.” though Asmo would know better than that. maybe she just wanted to laugh, hold his hand, and run with him (or get dragged along by him)

#xamassed;; beel #xamassed #// I adore beel #and they are a cute and funny pair together #an absolute disaster zone together and amazing

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lordofwaffless · 8 months

Text

7. Interruptions

“Hello, Stewart.” greeted Ezra, tumbling lazily into the other side of the booth. Wesley could immediately see why he reminded Stu of her. “So, this is your study partner, eh? You didn’t mention he wanted to devour you,” she teased, knowing full well that her nephew hadn’t noticed the way his study partner had been watching him.

“I’m not food,” noted the satyr, confused. Wesley shook his head as Ezra cackled in response. He really wasn’t capable of blushing in any noticeable capacity (the elven blood in his veins was nearly white), but he did pale at Ezra’s unabashed mockery.

He realised, after a moment, that a number of people within the cafe were staring at her. After another few seconds, it occurred to him that it wasn’t just because she was so loud and so bright (her canvas trousers were a shade of orange not dissimilar to the colour of a koi fish), but because she was one of the Goddess’s chosen beings.

…which Wesley found a bit odd, but who was he to judge the divinity of a lesbian in goldfish-orange work trousers?

Out of all the saints currently living, Ezra was the one that nobody remembered until she was right in front of them; and then it was impossible to forget. She had a thick mass of scar tissue knotted along the side of her ribs, and burn scars that looked like they’d come from some sort of whip covered her shoulders and back; all of which was visible nearly all of the time since she primarily wore cropped tank tops. No one was really sure where the scarring had come from, but it was the sort of scarring that was really only found on the Goddess’s chosen ones; it was the sort of scarring that came from going through hell repeatedly.

Other saints wore corsets and robes and ran the world, as everyone agreed they’d earned the right to do, but Ezra didn’t bother with any of it. She lived on her farm in the middle of nowhere, worked in a library in downtown Basilton, and ignored pretty much everyone and everything that wasn’t her immediate family or her few close friends- as everyone who knew what she’d done agreed she’d earned the right to do.

Stu used to think she was the coolest creature on the entire planet, and while he still thought so (although he rarely admitted it), he was also now perfectly aware that she was kind of a dork. Not that that was a bad thing, per se; while he found it strange that his saintly (ha!) aunt was actually a total nerd, it was one of the few things they had in common.

At the moment, though, he was wishing that it was nerdy, anime-watching Ezra that was staring Wesley down; Cool (Stupid) Ezra was altogether too liable to embarass him (and yet somehow seem like she’d done him a favor).

Witches were fun like that.

“You’re early,” declared Stu, who was, actually, for once, sort of pissed off.

“Well, babe, you’re the one that decided to inspire honour and all sorts of noble feelings in the mayor’s niece,” she replied, with a smirk that made Wesley’s expression look like a sweet smile. “I figured I should probably check in on you. And really,” she added, sarcasm pouring from her cherry-red lips, “it’s a good thing I did, too, as your little elfling friend was on the verge of defiling you.”

Wesley almost took more offence to the comment about his height than he did to the vaguely speciesist way she said the word “elfling,” but seeing as Ezra was almost seven feet tall (and nearly divine), he supposed he may as well let that part of the insult slide. The part about defiling, though…

“I wasn’t on the verge of defiling him,” he muttered. “I wasn’t on the verge of defiling anybody. No one was on the verge of defiling anybody.”

Ezra rolled her eyes. “Whatever.”

Stu was inclined to agree that nobody was on the verge of defiling anybody, but he found himself sort of disappointed at the thought of any potential defiling having been put off by the arrival of his aunt.

“Aunty Ezra, you’re an elfling,” he pointed out, hands flailing about in frustration as he glared at her.

“Correct, Stewart, and therefore I know firsthand that anybody with elven blood is a scoundrel, and also, quite possibly, a cad!”

Wesley sighed. “Sure, and a knave, and a rogue, and an insufferable prick…”

“See, Stu? Even he knows that he’s an insufferable prick!” yelled Ezra, who was standing now, and waving her hands around with as much demonstrative power as Stu.

The satyr removed himself from the callused fingers rubbing his shoulder blades and stood up on his seat. (He was still shorter than Ezra.) “You're an insufferable p-word, and I HATE YOU!” he shouted, his small face red with indignation. His arguments with Ezra rarely reached this point (as Edie was usually there to mitigate), but when they did, it almost never took more than one angry word or insulting turn of phrase for them to be having a full blown screaming match. This one was a bit different from the others, though; he’d yelled at Ezra plenty of times, but he’d never said he hated her. (Thought it, yes. Glared it, yes. Stomped his tiny hooves and huffed and mentally yelled it, yes, but he’d never actually said it.)

Ezra sat back down, tears filling her eyes as she ducked her head and looked over at the wall. Stu, finally, for the first time in his entire life, had the literal high ground; morally, he wasn’t really sure where he stood. He wanted to believe the past thirty seconds were entirely Ezra’s fault, but even so, yelling that he hated her had probably been uncalled for. He glanced down at Wesley, who looked up at Stu just as he turned his attention back to Ezra. Wesley was unsure whether he should tell the satyr to sit down, or if he should just let him stand there staring at Ezra in shock; after a moment, though, the satyr began to wobble, which decided the matter for him.

He stood up (by the bench, not on it). “Stu, sit down, please,” he murmured, grasping the satyr’s small, cold fingers. Stu toppled over, collapsing against the taller boy in tears. Wesley sighed and sat back down again, stroking Stu’s hair as he whispered comforting nonsense to him; Ezra, for her part, continued visually dissecting the orange, floral-patterned paper that covered the cafe walls. The cafe was quite full on any given day, and even more so on a chilly afternoon in September; it was only four fifty at present (a fact Stu would have scoffed at if someone had told him), but there was already a fairly large number of people there to witness Saint Ezra crying against the side of a booth while her nephew sobbed in the arms of a vaguely emo art student with whipped cream on his nose.

…Stu noticed, after a few more minutes of uncontrollable weeping, that there was, in fact, whipped cream on Wesley’s nose; it sobered him up immediately. Tired and delirious as he was, he did what any sensible person would have done in that situation: he licked it off.

“Goddess, Stewart, I literally just told your aunt that nobody was about to defile anybody,” muttered Wesley, who was quite pale.

“Did that count as defiling?” whispered Stu, sniffling.

“Well, probably not. Just general tomfoolery.”

“Hmm.”

“Well, there might be too much tongue involved in licking someone to classify it as “tomfoolery,” but there definitely isn’t enough tongue involved in this instance to categorise it as any sort of canoodling, or, as we were discussing, defilement…” he paused, realising that Stu was staring at him as if he were genuinely attempting to follow, his face a picture of perfect puzzlement.

“Nevermind,” he concluded, with a small chuckle. He settled his head against Stu’s, pressing his nose fondly into the fluffy curls.

“You smell like rain,” he mumbled after a bit, sounding as if he were half asleep. “Defilement,” muttered Ezra, bitterly, too quietly to hear, as she wiped the tears from her violet eyes and shook her head. She wasn’t sure why she’d pushed Stu. After all, she had known that Stu felt something for the guy he was meeting that afternoon; why had it bothered her so much to realise that the guy felt something (a lot of something) for Stu, too? It wasn’t actually the fact that he was an elfling that had set her off, either; she could tell in an instant that she was more properly elven than he was, and she wasn’t that hypocritical. Besides, even if he was a proper elfling (which he clearly wasn’t), they were actually known for being incredibly chivalrous… not to mention being excellent lovers.

Maybe that was what had set her off: the thought of anyone, ever, being in a position to be considered to be any sort of lover by her nephew. Well, she thought bitterly, anyone else. The first one was bad enough.

“Defilement,” she muttered again. “Are you still going to be done in an hour, Stu?” she asked, at a more noticeable volume.

Stu whipped his head around, eyebrows lifting up from his immensely wide eyes. “No. I’m done now,” he mumbled.

“Can either of you actually drive right now?” interrupted Wesley, who could see more clearly than Ezra that she was just as wobbly as Stu.

Ezra glared at him. “No,” she admitted, reluctantly.

Wesley sighed. “If you’re both ready to go, I can drive you,” he offered, knowing full well that they lived nearly two hours away, but perfectly willing to drive them anyway. Stu leaned into him and nuzzled his arm (which was the only part of Wesley the satyr could reach); the sudden burst of affection surprised Wesley, but he appreciated it nonetheless. He wrapped his arm back around the smaller boy, to the growing discontent of Stu’s hypocritical aunt.

“That’s fine, I suppose, though you'll have no way of getting home,” she replied. She looked miserable. She felt miserable.

Wesley stood up. “That’s fine. Keys,” he requested, holding his hand out for the keys to her ancient orange truck (perhaps it had once been a pumpkin?). She relinquished them, glaring even more furiously all the while. Stu hopped up, struggled with his books again, and followed them out the door. The three of them made for an interesting sight; one tall, elven boy wearing a

beanie over his messy violet-tinged hair and a pair of beat-up leather trousers, one gigantic, saintly blonde witch wearing flannel, canvas, and extremely sturdy boots, and one tiny little satyr, in a blue miniskirt and red wellies.

(Stu always wore red wellingtons. Edie and Ezra both had tried, to no avail, to coax him into wearing literally anything else every once in a while, but he insisted on the wellies; they matched almost nothing, and he wore them with everything. Ezra was vaguely considering burning them.)

Ezra’s truck was parked outside, where it had begun to rain.

“See,” commented the satyr, “isn’t it a good thing I always wear wellies?” He gave a little stomp. Wesley, for reasons Wesley couldn’t fathom, pressed a kiss to his head. “What was that for?” asked Stu, utterly perplexed.

Ezra turned around from where she’d been leaning her head on the passenger seat window and waiting for Wesley to unlock the door. “What was what for?”

“Nothing,” mumbled Stu. He was splashing about in the puddles beginning to form on the cobblestone street in front of the cafe, seemingly recovered from his wobbliness. Wesley had grabbed his bag as they’d exited the building, which left Stu free to hop about to his little heart’s content. Ezra found it extremely annoying. (And a little endearing, but mostly annoying.) “Quit it, Stewart, you’re going to get mud in my truck.”

“There’s already mud in your truck,” he pouted. “I call middle!”

“No shit, babe. I’m not sitting next to him.”

Wesley climbed into the front. “Right, and I’m not sitting next to you. Come here, Stu.” Stu happily clambered into the truck next to him. Ezra followed, as disdainfully as she could. She hadn’t recovered her steadiness quite yet, so the effect of her disdain was a bit marred by her inability to sit up straight, but it was altogether clear that she hated pretty much everyone and everything, and Wesley especially. Lovely, thought Wesley. This is going to be a lovely fucking drive. Stu was thinking almost the exact same thing, minus the sarcasm. He was generally pleased with how his afternoon had turned out.

He was not, however, particularly thrilled with how Ezra was treating his only close friend. His very cute, close friend. Oh well, he said to himself. Maybe Edie will like him. I hope Edie likes him.

The first part of their drive was mostly uneventful. Stu fussed with the radio, finding the local alt rock station with some difficulty (it had, for reasons unknown, been set to the station that repeatedly played whatever six or seven pop songs had recently won awards). He sang along until Ezra demanded he shut up, which sparked a bit of an argument between her and the driver, but which was resolved quickly enough when Stu told them both to shut the heck up and then fell asleep. Wesley drove with his arm around him and only one hand on the wheel, which was not particularly safe, but did make him feel cool (and he figured Ezra could probably just blast any deer or cars out of the way).

It wasn’t until they’d left the town and driven halfway through the woods that they realised something was wrong. Well, they assumed something was wrong; why else would Edie have been riding furiously towards them on a horse Ezra hadn’t even realised she owne

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kpswrites · 10 months

Text

Sunrunner – Chapter Five (Part 2)

The crew moved deeper into the ship, Adam and Sturdy at the front, Buddy at the rear. She would have preferred to be up at the front to see all of the excitement, but it was also nice to be helpful. She could keep an eye on Hoxley, who didn’t look as if he was enjoying the excursion and she could shoot anyone who snuck up on them; she was good at that.

Hoxley was nervously twitching his hand as they slinked through the passageway; Buddy swore she saw his fingertips glow. She had been meaning to ask him about his cool finger gun thing again. Every time she mentioned it, he got cagey and changed the subject to food or sleep routines. Those things were fine and all, but shooting fire from your hand was much more interesting. The group came to a halt and the light at Hoxley’s fingertips grew like a hot ember.

“Take a look, everyone,” Adam said, sharing his video feed.

At the intersection in front of them, illuminated by the beam of Adam’s flashlight, sat a crumpled work-mech. Adam scanned the light upward slowly. Its plasma torch was lit, burning an intense blue. Its legs were broken at the knees and the cockpit had been torn open like a piece of paper. A corpse sat within the mech, clothes dark and glistening with blood. A deep gash ran down from collar bone to abdomen, terminating a trail of exposed intestines.

“Let’s just get to the bridge and get out of here,” Sturdy said.

“We need to make sure we don’t get ambushed,” Adam countered.

“If your intent is to clear all the rooms we pass, do you really think we’re going to be able to clear whatever did that to a mech? I think we need to get the data and extract.”

“A valid point!” BOB said. “Mechs are far more resilient machines than myself or Jim! Our deaths seem certain if we do not leave expediently!”

“I thought we were also going to raid this place for medicine,” Odybrix said. “Last I checked, we’re all still irradiated and on the verge of gut-wrenching bowel problems. Past the verge, in Buddy’s case.”

I feel much better now,” Buddy said.

“The symptoms will likely return with each meal,” Jim said. His microbots malfunctioned and flickered black momentarily, as if to underscore the ongoing problem.

“You won’t need the RAD meds if you’re dead,” Sturdy said.

“Wasn’t asking you, buddy,” Odybrix said.

“Me?” Buddy asked.

“No, him. Okay, whatever, I’ll go to medical. You all head to the bridge and get what we came for.”

“You’re not going alone…”

Buddy tuned out the voices of the others when she noticed Hoxley slip away and walk down a corridor to the right. He had that weird look he sometimes got, like he was listening to a song no one else could hear. She followed him because mysterious phantom songs sounded exciting, well that and he should have someone to make sure he didn’t get shot, slashed, or further irradiated. As if in response to the thought, nausea swept over her like a tide coming back in. Better listen to Dr. Jim and avoid any meals for now.

“Where the hells are you two going?” Odybrix asked, following them with the others in tow. “I guess we’re going to explore every inch of the ship before going to the bridge then. Maybe we can clean it up for the dead mercs before we leave. That would be nice of us. Anyone have a cleaning tip for scraping organs off bulkheads?”

Hoxley paused in front of a door. If what Odybrix had said earlier was true, this would be the crew quarters. He moved his head from side to side, then crouched down, probably examining the room with his heat-vision thingy. Satisfied, he stood up and tapped the access panel. Buddy quickly scooted behind him, keeping a hand on one of her pistols.

“Why are we here?” She asked.

“It’s in here,” Hoxley said evenly.

Buddy drew both pistols and heard the crew rapidly shuffling behind her, positioning themselves for combat.

“Maybe you should let me or Adam go first,” Buddy suggested.

He ignored her and approached one of the beds, pulling out a storage box and absently sliding it away. There was nothing out of place in the room and it didn’t look like anything threatening could fit underneath the frame of the bed. Moreover, there was a comforting lack of blood decorating the room. Maybe there’s another spooky hole?

Hoxley dropped to his knees and stared intently into the black space under the bed, the palms of his hands facing upward like a zealot before his idol. Seconds of motionless silence passed until a scratching came from the dark space beneath. The crew collectively took aim and Buddy stepped beside Hoxley to pull him away. She stowed a pistol and placed a hand on his shoulder, but he didn’t react. Then a shape sprung out of the cramped space in a blur and collided with him.

“Hey, hey, who’s a good boy?” Hoxley asked, cradling a shivering dog.

“Gods,” Adam said, letting his shoulders sag.

“That appears to be a standard border collie!” BOB said. “It poses a negligible threat, but I can shoot it if you feel unsafe!”

“No!” Buddy and Hoxley said in unison.

“He’s just a scared little guy,” Buddy said.

“We’re going to get you out of here,” Hoxley said, looking at the name on the dog’s collar, “Beast.”

“Great name,” Buddy said, bending to pet the creature and eliciting a warning growl. “Looks like someone needs his space.”

“Y’know, you could have mentioned there was ‘negligible threat’ under the bed before we prepared to blast a fucking hole through the bulkhead,” Odybrix began, then paused, looking into the box he had slid over. “Oh. Oh, excellent. Never mind, all is forgiven.”

Odybrix pulled two large bottles out of the box labeled “Grolvar 12 Year” and shoved them into her pack, saying, “A heads up would still be nice.”

“If he’s not afraid of something,” Zenith said, motioning to Hoxley, “then we’re probably fine.”

Adam quietly turned the room over while they talked, then took position outside the door. BOB gave a perfunctory beep to indicate that business here was concluded and shuffled out of the room with the others, leaving Buddy with Hoxley. The infernum got to his feet with a small groan and stepped outside, Beast padding behind. Buddy followed, earning an intense glare from the border collie. What did I do?

~*~

“You want the good news or the bad news?” Sturdy asked as they approached medical.

“What are you talking about?” Zenith asked.

She had been on edge since they boarded the ship, but the cargo hold had shaken her. Blood and guts were a workplace hazard, but the use of them for interior decorating went a step beyond what she was prepared for. Once that threshold of nerves and adrenaline was crossed, it got hard to stop the fear from bleeding into her voice. So she kept things clipped and professional; no one needed to know their pilot was losing it. Fortunately, finding a fluffy animal instead of a horrible monster seemed to vent some of the anxiety.

“There are survivors and they’ve locked themselves in the medical bay,” Sturdy said.

“Those things are both bad news,” Odybrix said. “Wait, how do you know they’re in there?”

“Thermal vision.”

“Does everyone have thermal vision except me? Why didn’t you say anything about the dog?”

“Didn’t seem like a concern to me.”

Odybrix threw her arms in the air and Zenith asked, “Hox, can you confirm?”

“Yea. It looks like they’ve barricaded themselves in.”

“Guess that means we’re not getting any RAD pills,” Zenith said.

Odybrix slowly banged her head against the wall.

“There’s one more,” Hoxley said. “On the floor in the mess, I think. He’s rocking back and forth with his arms around his knees.”

“Is that worth our time, Adam?” Zenith asked.

“Probably not, but Hox and Sturdy should keep an eye on them for as long as the thermal display allows. I don’t think they’re planning an ambush.”

“Let’s get to the bridge then. We’ve been here too long.”

At this point, the investigation of the ship had fallen into an annoying routine: walk down a dark corridor, enter an ominous room, see something surprising or deeply unsettling, move on. It was like a haunted house without the guy in a costume jumping out to scare you—not that Zenith had spent much time in and around houses after the blow up with her father. Maybe disaster was waiting on the bridge. Maybe she would find a reason to slip her twitching finger over the trigger of her rifle. Maybe they’d get what they came for and leave, like walking through the rough part of a station to go shopping.

Adam reached the end of the dark corridor, entered an ominous room, and saw something deeply unsettling. The bridge was cramped and foreboding on his video feed. Two empty ops chairs faced terminals on the sides of the room, and a third was deeper in, its back facing the crew. The screen in front of it displayed planet ZU4576B, its red and yellow mass rotating slowly. The beam of Adam’s flashlight caught a limp hand hanging off the side of the chair. On the ground below was a kinetic pistol. He approached slowly in a wide arc, revealing the pilot.

The hole in her head was expected—who could blame her? The surprise was her face. Two vacant sockets stared at the screen, blood staining each cheek like bad eyeliner. The thin line of her mouth curled downward at one side, as if in slight disapproval of what she watched. Her other hand rested next to an input panel on the arm of the chair.

“One second,” Adam said, nudging her hand away with the barrel of his gun and tapping the panel. “It’s locked.”

“Allow me,” Sturdy said, unstrapping a box from his belt and placing it next to the input panel.

With a few quick taps, the image of ZU4576B was replaced by a record of recent logs and video.

“Open that last incoming transmission, it’s from a day ago,” Zenith said.

“Looks like text only, but… this is good. The mercs were hired by a guy named Vaelor. No details on what he was after, it’s just listed as a smash and grab.”

“So this Vaelor was piloting the super mech?” Adam asked.

Sturdy scanned through a few more logs, “Maybe. The log notes that the mercs were dealing with two people. There’s more. The pilot reported overhearing Vaelor and the other party discuss going to Levisia Station. That’s a lead I can work with.”

“A lead we can work with,” Odybrix corrected.

“Right, yes. We. I’m used to operating solo.”

“And thinking out loud, apparently.”

“What’s that video file?” Zenith asked.

The cargo bay appeared on the screen with none of the blood or destruction they had encountered. Zenith’s hand tightened around the grip of her rifle as the video played soundlessly. The bay door lifted and mercenaries trudged in, hauling one of the large incubation tubes they had seen inside the research facility. A tall figure stepped into frame. His face was concealed by a plain white mask and he wore a simple russet cloak. The super mech lumbered in afterward, taking position deeper inside the cargo hold. The robed figure turned to it and the mech’s canopy opened.

“Harlow,” Zenith whispered.

“Did you say something?” BOB asked.

Zenith said nothing and kept watching. The masked figure pointed to the tube and two mercenaries proceeded to pry its lid open with a crowbar. The body of a pale elf lay limply inside, his eyes and mouth locked open like he died of terror. The mysterious figure—this had to be Vaelor—approached the corpse and held a strange rod above his chest. The object seemed to swirl and twist in Zenith’s vision while never changing shape. Whenever she tried to focus on it, her eyes blurred and her head throbbed like she’d been flying for three shifts with no sleep. The effect ended when the masked figure plunged it into the dead elf’s heart.

The mercenaries closest to Vaelor stepped back and the others in the room looked at each other in confusion. Vaelor withdrew the object and walked back to Harlow. A second later, the naked elf spasmed, arching its back like it had touched a power conduit. The body convulsed, slamming itself so violently that its arm snapped against the side of the tube. Then its skin began to melt.

The next six minutes of video played in silence, without so much as a breath overheard from the observers. The mercenaries opened fire as the elf creature—now nine feet tall—lunged at them with astonishing speed. It ripped limbs from bodies like they were no more than petals on a flower. Bullets pounded into its shifting mass and only seemed to fuel its frenzy, likewise for plasma blasts. At the height of the carnage, Harlow raised the mech’s light plasma cannon at the monstrosity, only to be stopped by Vaelor who placed a gentle hand on the weapon, halting the intervention. Then they were gone.

Zenith blinked and thought there must have been a playback error, but the creature and the mercenaries—the ones yet to be horrifically murdered—still moved on the screen. Vaelor and her brother had simply vanished. Stealth tech? The way they disappeared lacked the fadeout effect common to Lendaren cloaking technology.

The flashes of gunfire stopped and the monstrosity began the grisly work they witnessed in the cargo hold earlier. It tore a hole through the floor and slowly dragged each corpse down into the dark. Then it set to the task of destroying every light in the room.

“I think we’ve seen enough,” Sturdy said, pausing the video. “I’m downloading everything from the last few days.”

“We need to get out of here,” Adam said.

“I’m not sure we should pursue this job any further!” BOB said.

“No, we need to find them,” Zenith said.

“Yeah,” Hoxley echoed.

“We can discuss this on Sunrunner. Preferably with all of our limbs still attached,” Odybrix said, shoving Adam and Sturdy towards the corridor.

“Uh, guys,” Hoxley said, stopping, “I’m sharing my feed.”

Zenith’s finger slipped onto the trigger of her rifle as the hope of leaving the ship without incident evaporated. Hoxley’s thermal display popped up on the crew’s HUDs. He was looking through the wall where they had spotted the mercenary curled into a ball. The image got clearer as Hoxley moved forward.

The orange and red figure had crawled under a table with its back to the wall and was visibly shaking. It twisted in a sharp motion to face the wall—no, to face away from something. A fearful whimper drifted through the ship and devolved into intense sobs. Zenith stared at the vid feed in bewilderment as the mercenary was pulled from its shelter by an unseen force and held struggling in the air. Then, in one brief, savage instant, they were torn in half, spraying hot bits of orange and yellow around the room. The outline of something lithe and horrible stood painted in the corpse’s blood.

“Go!” Adam shouted, urging them forward.

The crew rushed towards the exit with Buddy taking point. They didn’t get very far before colliding with a stout figure in grey combat armor. Buddy and Hoxley stumbled to the floor with an ashen-skinned dwarf. He clambered to his feet and drew a pistol, pointing it away from the crew and down the passageway. Wide eyes betrayed the camouflage of his shaggy eyebrows and braided beard as he stared wide-eyed into the darkness.

“Get back in here, Mordim! You’re going to get killed!” A voice cried out.

“We need to leave!” The dwarf yelled back, then turned to Zenith and pleaded, “Take me with you; I’ll do anything.”

“Uh, I just fly the ship, the decision’s not up to me. We’re kind of a small democra-“

The sound of gunfire cut off the sentence and illuminated the far end of the passageway in flickering light. A massive form—taller than any of them despite being crouched—appeared and disappeared in a fraction of a second. The gunfire quickly ended, modulating into a diminishing chorus of screams. Someone burst into view, revealed by the flashlight on Zenith’s rifle. He fired a wild shot into the dark, dropped his pistol, and sprinted towards the crew. An instant later, a black spike exploded out of his eye, locking his face in a mask of mutilated terror.

The body hit the floor and rolled, bringing the violence into focus at Zenith’s feet. The end of a glistening spike protruded from where it had exploded through the victim’s skull. It didn’t look like any weapon she had seen, except maybe the quill of a porcupine. The dwarf beside her let out a whimpering breath and she turned her gaze upward.

Something loomed at the far limit of the flashlight. Pale grey skin drew taut over a sleek and powerful torso. Its arms were rail thin, extending to a length that matched Adam in height and terminating in black needlepoint claws. Atop its body was a smooth, bulbous head with no eyes or mouth. A rolling click undulated from the monstrosity and it took a step forward.

“Nope,” Zenith said, kicking the dwarf at the creature and turning to flee with the crew in tow.

#sci fi #sci fi writing #scififantasy #fantasy #spaceship #horror #lovecrafian #lovecraft

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