#but vegas ran with it a little too much. because he was terrified of losing pete AND himself | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

puppetsoftomorrow · 3 years

Text

avalance wedding vows

@puppetavasharpe challenged me to write the avalance wedding vows, so i wrote everything but the vows! (nah jokes there are some vows in here i just got Very carried away lmao). i'll clean up and post to ao3 when i find the time. enjoy!!

They both agreed they’d spent too much time apart in the weeks before their wedding to spend the night before it apart, and Sara was grateful, the nervous hammering of her heart calmed by Ava’s hand in hers, as they lay in the semi-darkness, neither ready to sleep quite yet.

“We're getting married tomorrow.” Ava said softly into the darkness.

“Yeah.” Sara said, the sound floating in the air. “Do we have to do it front of everyone? Can't we elope? Because we have a time machine, we don’t need to be married by an Elvis impersonator in Vegas, I can take us to get married by the real Elvis -”

“You're nervous.” Ava said - it wasn't a question, more of a slightly surprised statement, and Sara made an indignant noise.

“No, Sara Lance does not get nervous -”

Ava squeezed her hand, and Sara stopped the act.

“Fucking terrified. You?”

“Yeah, kind of.” Ava said softly. “But - the idea that you’ll be there - that helps. Is that weird?”

“No.” Sara said, as she moved further into her fiancée's side. “No, I think that helps me too.”

“Have you got everything ready? Are your vows written?” Ava asked, and it was Sara’s turn to squeeze her hand, trying to calm the part of Ava that needed their wedding day to run like a train station under communist rule.

“Yeah, all written.” She said, trying to keep her voice nonchalant. She had some pointers on a piece of paper in the pocket of her dress, and her plan of seeing where the day took her for the rest of it would almost certainly work. “What about you?”

“All done.” Ava said, her tone almost strangled, and Sara turned, propping herself up on one elbow to look down at her.

“Why do you look so guilty?” Sara asked, slightly confused, and her face broke into a grin when Ava started to flush pink.

“I wrote them - um – maybe about a year ago.”

“What? But I hadn't proposed -”

“I know.” Ava said, a hand coming up to cover her cheek. “It wasn’t - um - after anything in particular, you’d just come back from Star City and it sort of hit me, then, that this is what I wanted. For the rest of my life. So, I wrote them.”

“But you waited all this time -”

“Because I wanted you to propose to me.” Ava said, her voice soft, and she turned away, clearly embarrassed, but Sara’s hand caught her, to bring their eyes back together. “I just - I wanted to be proposed to. I know that’s sappy. And I wanted you to know, on your own, that you were completely ready.”

“I’m ready.” Sara said softly, as she ran her thumb along Ava's cheekbone. “That's adorable. You’re so cute.”

“Shut up.” Ava muttered, still bright red, and Sara laughed.

“Aw, Aves, is that any way to treat your future wife?”

“Go to sleep.” Ava said, grinning now, and she gently pushed Sara back down. Sara took full advantage of the new position and moved close, pressing her face against Ava’s shoulder and snaking her arms around her waist.

“I'm excited to hear them. I can't wait to marry you.”

“I can't wait either.” Ava said, voice a near whisper. “And - if it gets too much tomorrow- we can go find Elvis and he can marry us.”

“Thank you.” Sara said as she yawned, finally ready to sleep. “Night, baby. Love you.”

“Goodnight, my love.” Sara heard, softly spoken, as she drifted off to sleep.

///

Best laid plans - and Ava's plans were always the best - seemed a truism in that moment. Guests had been arriving in a constant stream, Mick making trips in the jump ship to pick everyone up, grumbling that he wasn't a taxi service, and Sara had only just finished getting ready - slipping into her white jumpsuit and curling her hair, as Nate sat on the bed and gushed about how beautiful love was, Behrad fast asleep next to him.

Constantine's mansion looked wonderful, Astra having spent a week learning the spells to cover the place in streamers and balloons, only they kept appearing and disappearing randomly, which caused Sara to yelp as a party of balloons suddenly appeared next to her.

She’d lost her shoes. These shoes were nothing special, but Sara was determined to find them, because they were her tallest pair, and she wasn't having Ava craning her neck to kiss her in every one of their wedding photos. People might think she was short or something.

Sara rounded into the ballroom, and saw something she was definitely not meant to see.

“Ava?” She said, and Ava turned, squeaked, and squeezed her eyes shut.

“Sara! What are you doing! Nate said he’d keep you in the bedroom until -”

“I’m just - what are you doing?”

“It's bad luck to see each other.” Ava said, eyes still tight shut, and Sara laughed, a slightly shaky sound.

“Well, baby, I’ve seen you now.” She looked her up and down, slightly in awe. Ava's dress was simple, ivory satin with a bardot neckline, her hair curled over one shoulder, elegant and beautiful. There was a quiver in Sara’s voice when she spoke again. “You're so beautiful. How did I ever get this lucky?”

“Stop it, you shouldn’t even be seeing me.” Ava said, her voice also thick with emotion, and Sara took three steps forward across the ballroom, taking Ava’s hands in her own.

“You can look, baby.” Sara said softly, and Ava’s eyes opened, widening when she took in what Sara was wearing. When their eyes connected again, there were tears on her lashes.

“You look so pretty. Are those trousers?”

Sara laughed and nodded, trying to keep her own tears at bay. “Yeah, um, the last wedding I went to was kind of invaded by Nazi superheroes, so I thought this would work for fighting.”

“You’re so practical. I'm not going to ask about the Nazis.” Ava sniffed, and Sara reached out to hold her hands.

“I can’t wait to marry you.” Sara said softly.

“You'll be there, won’t you? At the end, waiting for me?” Ava asked, almost shyly, and Sara nodded. All the Legends, even Spooner, had offered to walk her down the aisle when it had come out that Ava had no family to do it for her, but Ava had decided to walk alone.

Her only caveat - that Sara go first, so she could see who she was walking towards.

“Yeah, baby. I’ll be there.” Sara said, and turned slightly at Behrad’s shout of “I’ve found them!”

“That's my cue.” Sara said, trying to shake the tears from her eyes, and Ava scrunched her brow.

“Found what?”

“I'll tell you afterwards baby. I'll see you later.”

“I wouldn't miss it.” Ava said softly, and Sara beamed at her, before turning to run back the other way, before anyone saw that they’d seen each other.

///

Sara stood in the eaves, looking out to the flower filled garden, guests seated and talking, enjoying the sun and the chance to see old friends.

If her nerves weren’t bad before -

“You ready, kid?”

The gruff voice of her dad came from just behind her, and Sara nodded, trying to hide her sweating palms.

“Yeah, I’m ready. I just -” She started, then her voice dropped slightly. “I wish Laurel was here. I’d never imagined that I'd be doing this without her.”

“She’d be so proud of you.” Quentin said softly, and Sara nodded, a wet laugh escaping her lips when she realized they were both crying.

Before Sara could reply, the familiar tune played on the violin swept over the garden, and the guests fell in a hush, and Sara accepted the handkerchief her dad offered to wipe her eyes.

Quentin held out his arm, and Sara looped hers through his, stepping out into the light.

///

It all seemed like a blur. Ava walked down the aisle, a vision in white, a nervous smile on her face, and Sara considered just booking it down the few feet of grass that separated them to hold her hand, but she stayed firm, and Ava reached her, handing her bouquet off to Mona, and Sara reached out then, threading their fingers together. Nate’s words about love and their relationship almost melted away as she stared into Ava’s eyes, and she would have missed the vows if it weren’t for Ava gently squeezing her hand.

“Sara - I -” Ava started, stopped, took a shaky breath, and Sara beamed at her, willing her on, and Ava swallowed. “I wrote this after you came to Purgatory to get me. I’d never imagined, up until that point, that anyone could ever love me enough to do something like that, bring me back from the precipice, but you did.” Ava paused, and smiled gently at her. “You’ve changed my life irrevocably, and always for the better. You’ve made me a better person, a more thoughtful person, you’ve helped me to find who I am – you've also helped me to lose both my job and my house, but we won’t dwell on that -”

Ava seemed almost surprised when the guests laughed, and Sara squeezed her hand.

“Every time I think I’ve figured you out, you do something that surprises me. I can’t imagine my life – my future - without you in it, and I want it, all of it, every crazy adventure and every not so crazy one, just – all of it, because, I know whatever it is, you’ll be there with me, and we’ll face it together.” Ava said, then took a breath. “I love you, Sara Lance. Always and forever.”

Sara stood, slightly open mouthed, and would have kissed her if that wasn’t the main event in a few minutes. “Your turn.” Ava said, soft and just for her, and Sara nodded, her heart suddenly beating a little faster. She dropped Ava’s hands, and pulled her notes out.

Another benefit of a jumpsuit – pockets.

“Well, I wrote these vows after you said we couldn’t elope and get married by Elvis -” Laughter rippled through the assembled crowd, and Sara felt her shoulders relax. “Ava - I don’t know what good I did in this life to deserve you. I’ve made mistakes, I’ve died, and I’ve lost my way so many times and I never thought I could find my way back, but with you – I know I can always find my way home.”

Ava smiled at her, tears on her cheeks, and Sara moved to hold her hand again.

“I love you. I don’t know what the future holds, but I know it’ll be okay, because you’ll be there with me. I’ll be here, for as long as you’ll have me.”

Ava nodded, beaming through her tears, and Nate pronounced them married, and Sara could finally kiss her, and the light came in, warm and true.

///

“If I’d known that Behrad was such a huge Celine Dion fan, I wouldn't have let him be the DJ.” Sara said, pressing herself closer to Ava to be heard over the music that was sounding through the ballroom. Ava laughed, the sound moving through her, and Sara held her wife a little tighter as they slow danced to Because You Loved Me. “You’d think a guy from 2042 would have better music taste.”

“This wouldn't be such a bad first dance.” Ava hummed, swaying gently. They'd tried to forgo as much formality as they could - speeches and a first dance included - but Sara had danced with her dad, and Ava had danced with him to in a move that made Sara cry for the tenth time that day.

“It’s sappy as hell.” Sara said, and Ava laughed again.

“You are sappy, you’ve cried so many times today.”

“Yeah, I’ve gotten soft.” Sara said, eyebrows knitting together, until Ava pressed a kiss there.

“That’s not a bad thing.” Ava hummed, and they stood there, swaying gently. “Your vows were soft.”

“Yeah, and now all my family and friends know I have feelings.” Sara said with a dramatic sigh. “You’ve really ruined my reputation.”

Ava shrugged, before moving backwards to spin Sara before catching her again. “I rather like that you have feelings.” Ava said softly, once Sara was safe in her arms again, and Sara melted into it just as the last beat of the song played across the room.

The moment was ruined when Behrad yelled, and Bootylicious started to play across the radio. Sara burst out laughing to see Zari had taken up position next to the speakers.

“Actually, I change my mind, this is our first dance.” Ava said, and Sara just laughed as the rest of the guests started to pour onto the dancefloor.

#phoebe lifeblogs #legends of tomorrow #avalance #okay for the tags #behrad is a celine dion fan #and z2 loves destiny's child #i dont make the rules

62 notes · View notes

adamarks · 5 years

Text

If one more person says simon snow should lose his wings i’m gonna lose my goddamn mind: a meta

Alright you guys, I’ve had ENOUGH. Simon cannot lose his wings unless you want him to break up with Baz, and this is why.

Let’s start with Baz.

This analysis is obviously Simon-based, and yes i’ll get there, but first we need to look at the biggest key we’ve been given to what Simon’s wings could possibly mean subtextually and metaphorically for the story at large. That key is: Baz’s vampirism.

Baz being a vampire is constantly compared to/mentioned in tandem with his queerness in Carry On. In his first chapters, what are the three most important traits that we learn about him?

he’s a drama queen

he’s a vampire

he’s hopelessly in love with simon snow

If you boil his character down until he’s basically just a stick figure, that’s what he is: an over dramatic vampire in love with Simon Snow.

We’ve all read the books, we all know this, and we all know he’s much more than that. What of it?

What’s important is that Baz’s vampirism is treated almost the exact same as his homosexuality.

Hiding it from everyone, being ashamed of it, knowing what you are but being terrified of it. His dad being “definitely more disappointed in my queerness than my undeadness.”

I mean, holy shit, let’s look at this bit in Carry on from Chapter 51:

“I think if I got married, to a girl from a good family, my father wouldn’t even care that I’m queer. “

This scene really hits, because how many times have you wondered “What if I was straight? Maybe this thing wouldn’t be as bad?” “What if i was just a straight poc?” “What if I was only gay and not trans?” “What if I was only disabled and not gay on top of it?” What if, what if, what if. Would my life be easier? you wonder. Would I get hurt less? Would people treat me better?

If Carry On is about self-realization, then Wayward Son is about the struggle of self-acceptance.

Baz going to Las Vegas and meeting Lamb probably seemed familiar for some of you people that are LGBT+. It’s how you feel when you’re from a small town and you go to a big city like New York or Orlando or LA for the first time and you see gay people all around you. Flamboyantly gay! Gay people holding hands! Gay people kissing! Trans people that don’t fit the gender norms! Older trans ladies just walking down the street!

It’s exciting, it’s exhilarating. Your baby-gay brain is so confused because no one’s giving them dirty looks. They don’t look nervous or ashamed. Is this allowed?

The party in the penthouse is glamorous and beautiful and alluring and none of the humans there are scared or look like they’re in real danger. It’s because they aren’t. None of those vampires are there to kill people.

This is where Baz’s fear of his own nature comes in. Let’s hear it for all you homosexuals in the crowd that are/have been terrified of being predatory. Of turning the gender you’ve been told all of your life you’re not supposed to want into pieces of meat. You feel ashamed for wanting physical intimacy. You feel wrong for wanting emotional intimacy.

Lamb is the older gay that you meet/learn about/watch on youtube or whatever that makes you learn that no, you’re not inherently evil. Lamb is the queer history, the queer movies, the queer people that you discover that make you learn that “no, i’m not bad. I’m not broken. I’m beautiful. I’m beautiful.”

Baz thinking the sight of Lamb drinking that guy’s blood being alluring and beautiful is crucial to his arc. Baz needs to see that all of him is beautiful.

So homosexuality = Baz being a vampire? How in the flying fuck does this have anything to do with Simon?

Remember, Baz is our key. His struggles have been happening since book one. Simon just gained his “creature” status at the end of Carry On. He’s new to this. Which means we’re new to the subtext. Which means: let’s dive on into the next big point.

Our Big Bisexual Boy

Whatever label you choose to use for Simon is up to you. As long as we all agree he likes more than one gender then it’s whatevs. I’m going to be using the word bisexual for this meta, though.

We’re all well aware that Simon is Struggling with his bisexuality in this book.

“I still haven’t sorted out whether I’m still attracted to women or whether I ever was, or whether I’m some kind of Baz-only-sexual. But the cleavage at this place is abundant, and I’m not mad about it.”

(taken from chapter 21)

Like....... y’know. We know. It’s... we get it.

The important part of that quote is that it’s at the Ren Faire. The Ren Faire is the first time Simon’s had his wings out in public since god-knows-when, if ever. This is also the first time he really considers kissing Baz in the book. Kissing Baz in Public.

Any of you that have been to Pride probably got a little bit of the warm fuzzies during this scene. The faire brought back such deep memories of my first pride it was a little bit emotional. I talked to random people, people ran around in rainbow outfits. There was body paint! Stupid hats! Weird dye jobs! The classic pride-flag-as-a-cape look! I talked to so many people and

“Everyone here is so friendly.”

(also taken from chapter 21)

Everyone was so nice to me.

Baz feels right at home; Simon is all smiles. The only one not having a blast is Penny and she’s (I’m sorry, Penny) the token straight friend in these books.

I don’t know how Rainbow did it, but she made me relive my first pride through Simon, and I’ll never not be grateful for that.

“Today I’m someone else entirely. Today I’m just a bloke with fake red wings.”

The Pride/Ren Faire parallels were pretty obvious, but I wanna get a little further into the whole “wings = being bisexual” thing.

We’ve established with Baz that being a magical creature or whatnot is Gay, but while Baz is fully magical, Simon’s “half-normal.” Kind of. It’s a weird situation there but half-normal works for the argument.

“’Smells like dragon... but also smells like iron. Another abomination!’”

(chapter 35)

Now the word “abomination” is really fucking unfortunate in this context, but biphobia exists so idk man. I’m gonna start talking in gay/straight terms and I absolutely know bisexuality isn’t half-gay half-straight but we’re talking in metaphors and i’ll tie it together at the end so just stick with me, okay?

He’s part dragon, part Normal (kind of). Simon’s not like Baz where he’s absolutely, 100% a vampire. He has traits of dragons and humans. This is why it’s so bad that he hates his wings half the time. They are part of him. They may not be “normal” and he may have to hide them, but he can’t just cut off the gay part. Our queerness doesn’t define us, but it’s a defining feature.

Penny says she wouldn’t be her if she wasn’t a mage. Simon wouldn’t be Simon if he wasn’t bi.

The mistake Simon and almost everyone else makes during this book is that they think of his wings as these separate entities. There is no gay part and straight part of Simon Snow. All of him is Simon. From the tips of his toes to the tops of his wings, all of him is Simon. He might’ve discovered this part of himself during a tragic point in his life, but that doesn’t mean it has to be something bad. It doesn’t have to be something tainted.

Sometimes you discover things about yourself during the hardest moments of your life. When you’re already down in the dirt, beaten and bruised, sometimes a mirror is put in front of you and you realize something. You realize you’re trans. You realize you’re gay. And sometimes you resent those realizations because they came to you at the worst possible time. “This is just one more thing on my plate,” you think.

This series is about reclaiming the things that where taken from you by the ones that hurt you.

Simon’s going to have to learn to love his wings, because even though they remind him of something that hurts-- hurts more than anything-- they’re part of him. They are him, as much as the rest of his body is. Simon’s going to have to forgive himself, and learn to love himself for all that he is.

Because all that he is is beautiful.

We all know it; it’s time for him to understand that.

All right, bitches. Let’s get to the bit we all REALLY care about. this is the one that really fucks me up my dudes. Because it’s Brutal. But anyways here we go.

His wings are the Big Baz Love

What are the two things that Simon’s considering cutting off in this book?

“That’s what I’m going to say when I break up with Baz.”

“Dr. Wellbelove said he could remove the wings. And the tail. Whenever I’m ready.”

(Chapter 2, Epilogue)

Yikes!

My guys..... Simon and Baz don’t kiss unless Simon’s wings are out.

I truly do not understand how some of you are out here saying Simon’s gonna lose his wings I really don’t. It’s stressful. I’m stressed. Ms. Rainbow Rowell, you have me stressed.

His Wings! Are! His Love!

On Love’s Light Wings!

Goatman dances his nasty little fingers all over the bridge that is Baz’s ass? Wings out, uses his tail to help kill the guy. Lamb is hitting on Baz too much?

“’Spell my wings off.’”

(Chapter 45)

In the airport, when a lady is giving them the “don’t be gay” stink eye he immediately checks to make sure his tail is hidden.

Baz can’t spell his wings off, guys.

Baz can’t spell his wings away.

“’Snow needs you to cast your angel spell on him. I hid his wings for breakfast, but they’re still there.’“

(Chapter 19)

In Chapter 41, the biggest kiss scene we get, Simon wraps his wings around Baz to hold him. He’s embracing him in his love guys. Guys.

Have you people noticed how i’m suddenly less articulate? It’s because i’m in crisis. Set me on fire I wouldn’t notice. I’ve been living with this terrible knowledge.

The first scene we finally see them kiss is after the scene at the Ren Faire when Simon’s wings are finally out and he finally got to fly.

“Simon catches up with me and traps me against the car. He’s kissing me before I see it coming.”

Simon is so dtf in this scene Penny throws a water bottle at them, and it hits him in the wing.

“’So hot,’ Simon Says. ‘Got to see you fight without picking a fight with you myself.’

Bunce throws a plastic bottle over my shoulder, and it smacks Simon in the wing.”

(Chapter 22)

She had to smack him right in the love for him to calm down, my dudes, my guys. Do you realize how hard it was for me to annotate this goddamn book with this knowledge? Every. Single. Time. Simon stretches a wing or flaps them around it’s about Baz. It gets to the point where you have to put the book down or you’re gonna explode.

Simon’s wings are always out around Lamb. He’s jealous as hell and he hates that motherfucker’s guts. The only real injuries Simon sustains in this book are to his wings and they’re almost always when Baz gets hurt too.

When did Simon get his wings? Only a day after he first kissed Baz.

Simon’s love for Baz is so big and so obnoxious he can’t hide it. His wings and tail have spikes, because that’s all Simon knows. He’s rough around the edges, he’s been hurt, he’s been used.

He’s never been in love before.

His love is spiky; it’s loud. It’s hotrod red and you can’t miss it when it’s out. Baz can’t see it, because Simon’s tucked it away. He hasn’t flown with it. He hasn’t wrapped it around Baz in so long. He doesn’t know how to handle a love this big, where to put it, when to unfurl it.

Simon gets jealous. He gets scared. He’s insecure. He wants so dearly to finally give to someone instead of feeling like he’s just giving in. Like he’s still just taking from Baz.

What do you do with wings?

How do you find somewhere safe to fly?

The Resolution.

I said earlier that if Carry On is a story of self-discovery, Wayward Son is a story of self-acceptance.

Simon has to love himself, and learn that his love for Baz is a good thing. As he accepts himself (and his dragon powers evolve go read my dragon simon meta it’s good.) he’s going to start to shine.

This is a story being told to us with nothing but love. This is a story about a boy that’s his own worst enemy-- as all of us often are. It’s so scary to accept our wings. It’s so scary to accept our fangs. Especially when they’ve come out of such a hideous occurrence.

We need to accept these dark times and acknowledge that maybe, just maybe, we were made more beautiful because of them. Maybe the light we give after we’ve been in darkness is more vibrant, because we know how scary the dark is. The things that happened to us were horrible, and hideous, and terrifying, but we aren’t. We’re different from how we were before, but we’re still beautiful.

Simon Snow is going to accept himself.

Simon Snow is going to accept his past.

Simon Snow is going to finally, finally tell Baz he loves him.

And for the first time, Simon Snow is going to see that he’s beautiful.

If you’ve liked this meta you should also check out this one where i explain how they’re finally gonna get their relationship together. Also the one about the scarf

Special thank you to @singerofsimplesongs for listening to me howl and screech about this damn thing.

Tagging some people that might be interested!

@neck-mole @watfordwallflower @carrybits @theflyingpeach @fight-surrender @shitty-posty-times @wisest-girl @slaying-fictional-dragons @gucciglitzy

#carry on #wayward son #any way the wind blows #rainbow rowell #simon snow #snowbaz #baz pitch #Penelope Bunce #tyrannus basilton grimm pitch #tyrannus basilton pitch #wayward son spoilers #meta #wayward son meta #carry on meta #this will end in flames #agatha wellbelove

4K notes · View notes

nikkithomas · 3 years

Text

Here’s the deal. I started having a lot of pain in my lower back, legs and hips. At first, I went to the chiropractor and he did some adjustments. I seriously felt so much better.

My regular doctor had prescribed some medicine for me for an unrelated thing and it made me so sick. I’d be so nauseous that I’d have to go get fresh air...walk it off...or even splash water on my face. That had been going on even when I was in Knoxville.

Aircheck had asked me to talk about my ACM trip to Vegas when we won in 2019. I’m sure there were people who thought it was funny or maybe even crass...but they asked what I thought or what was going through my head at that ceremony...and I think my answer was something to the effect of “I was trying not to throw up” or something like that. My stomach was on fire and I felt so dizzy. My face was all flushed and hot. I thought about going to the ER there in Vegas...but I was afraid I’d miss the reason I was there...to pick up the ACM for our station. I think it was win number seven for the station...as a PD it was my third...and it was still a pretty big deal. Honest to God, I didn’t want to let anyone down. I also wasn’t sure if it was food poisoning or something. When I got back to Knoxville, went to my doctor...they ran tests...gave me some medicine...and I thought that was the end of it. They still couldn’t figure out what was going on with me, though.

I left Knoxville and moved to the Tri Cities. Best decision I’ve made in years, by the way. I truly love these people. They’ve done a phenomenal job of protecting their product and their people and I believe that’s why this station is still so healthy when many other legendary stations have suffered. The stress level dropped substantially. It’s amazing what can be accomplished when the station and the people are a priority. Which by the way...XBQ has been so much like KAT Country. It’s been everything I love about radio and thought I’d never experience again. These people couldn’t be farther apart...yet be so much alike. It’s a good thing.

The main thing bothering me then...was my back and legs. Kept having some really nasty pain. The pain was so intense sometimes that it made me nauseous. My face was flushed...I had a fever...then I didn’t have one. Maybe it was my weight? I was getting up to pee a lot at night. Only sleeping one or two hours in a stretch. It was all these things that I never put together.

I wanted to get healthy. Told my doctor I wasn’t going to take that medicine that made me feel so bad...just in case that was the problem. My endocrinologist was cool with that. I started the keto diet. Actually...I did keto up until right before Thanksgiving.

I was so happy. My thyroid is absolutely hateful...so losing weight is the hardest thing to do it seems. On keto...I dropped over 30 pounds. Wow! I thought that was great!! Everything felt better. My energy levels were up. I’d get up at 4am and wouldn’t stop until 11pm...and everything was good...until my hip, back and legs started hurting again. It was so bad one morning that the guys I work with called chiropractors for me. It was awful.

The pain had never really stopped...but at a certain point you just get used to the pain and move on as best you can. That’s what I did up until a few weeks ago. If you know me, you know that I love Toys For Tots, St Jude, Second Harvest, etc. We were out with the marines working on Toys For Tots and I ended up having to miss one day because I hurt so bad. Now for me...that’s bad.

It never let up. I’ve just pushed through and tried to “suck it up” since then. That was a couple of weeks before Christmas. Y’all I seriously thought it might be psychosomatic. Maybe it was all in my head. If it hurt...I’d try to stretch or move and work it out of my body...but that NEVER worked.

So...I go back to the chiropractor. Those guys were so good to me. They can electrocute me anytime they want. (All hail the TENS unit!!) That seemed to be working...and then we had a little bit of a COVID scare at work...(everyone is okay, thank goodness). Around that time...I was running a fever off and on. Low grade. There were some other things that weren’t feeling quite right...so...just to be safe...I got another COVID test and quarantined. Still...I felt like I was ALWAYS in pain. Sometimes it was so bad...I couldn’t move or do anything in any way to make it stop. It made me want to cry. It was embarrassing. It was frustrating because I couldn’t get it to let up. It got so bad that last Saturday I drove myself to the ER to get checked out.

Urgent Care said they couldn’t help because I needed “imaging”. Well...I got that imaging done folks. Turns out...I have a scary mass on my right ovary. It’s pretty huge.

I went in Saturday night...terrified of being around sick people...but it had to be done. The pain was so intense...that my blood pressure shot sky high...and my nose starting bleeding. The doctor ordered morphine, Norco and a CT scan.

The guy doing the scan was a travel nurse. He went from being pretty chatty to sort of quiet and reserved after the test. When they injected the dye into me...he was telling me it would hurt...and it was nothing compared to what I was feeling.

I woke up two hours after the scan to the doctor on call sitting next to my bed and looking sorta weird at me. She told me they’d received my test results and everything I’d said was right on the money.

The burning, pressure, aching, tension...all of it...was related to what she referred to as “not the biggest mass” she’d ever seen...but “one of the largest”. She was surprised I’d been walking around with this thing in me for God knows how long.

Now here’s where the story goes off the rails.

That doctor at Ballad mentioned the word “cancer” about nine times in that room. That was the “suspected” diagnosis. She said I needed to follow up and see another doctor because of what could be “cancer”...and told me they’d have to see if it had spread anywhere.

Now...that was a LOT to take in. So...I did what any other person with an iPhone, an unlimited data plan and tons of morphine in their system would do...I looked that crap up on “Dr Internet”.

The next time a nurse came in...I asked her...”Umm did you guys do a CA 125 test?”

That same poor sweet nurse, who would go on to blow a vein...and push the medicine through the IV into my skin, thereby causing a monster of a bruise and making my vein get rock hard...she said in this really hushed tone...”I don’t know...I’ll ask. I saw your report. I’m so sorry.”

At this point...I’m facing my mortality. I just wanted out of there. I wanted this damn thing out of me...I wanted answers...I wanted everything to be okay.

I still want everything to be okay.

By the way...she never came back in with the answer to that CA 125 test question. So I took that as a hard “no”...or “they did it and don’t want to tell me”.

Monday I was back in the ER. Doubled over, in tears.

The doctor ordered pain medicine...that never came in the four hours I was there. That was NOT a fun time. The nurses just let me sit there. To her credit...the doctor was pretty furious when she found out they’d ignored her orders. Once again...this other doctor looks at me and says...”You know they think this is cancer?”

No. Still no test...but she made an appointment for me with a local oncologist.

Now...that CA 125 antigen test is not infallible, nor is it the end-all-be-all test for ovarian cancer. It is a marker though specifically for ovarian cancer.

So if they’re telling you that you have a massive tumor and it could be cancer...(two doctors over two visits..the word has been dropped about a dozen times...it’s also in the CT report...you’d think someone would bust out a needle...draw the blood...see what that looks like...and get you in the right frame of mind in case it is this horrible bastard of a disease!! Right? Wrong.)

The mass at the time was 10.3cm x 10.3cm x 7.1cm.

The oncologist couldn’t see me for a week...the gynecologist couldn’t see me until February 1st.

Yeah. No big hurry. I’m just having trouble walking. I’m in tears. I’m peeing...like a teaspoon at a time. I know that’s graphic...but if you don’t pee...you need to get checked. I felt like I was (and still feel, by the way) in the middle of a massive labor pain that wouldn’t ease off. It’s pain that makes you want to throw up sometimes. It’s super intense.

I went home that second time...sat down in my room...and I couldn’t help but tear up. I’ve cried two and a half times over the “state of things” since this started. Those are the “what am I going to do” tears...totally different from the “oh Lord this hurts like hell...dear God make it stop” tears.

Talked to our friend Eric who told me it was a shame I didn’t live in Nashville...because I could probably call Vanderbilt and be seen pretty quickly. Eric...was right. I’m three hours from Vanderbilt...but only an hour or so from Knoxville.

I called UT. (Go Vols!) That football situation isn’t ideal...but that hospital ain’t half bad.

Within less than an hour...the head Oncologist had looked over my CT scan and was working to get me in there ASAP. They’d have taken me that day...but it was too late in the day and I’d never make it down there in time. So...they scheduled me for Wednesday morning.

Before I walked out of the room that morning...they told me they were going to operate and get this out of me by Monday at the very latest. The schedule was full...so they needed to check on a few things before I left the hospital...just in case there was torsion or whatever.

I had a CA 125 test. That looked good from what I understand but my CT scan and sonogram looked sketchy. The mass appeared to be even larger since Saturday?!? (It showed up as being 12.6cm x 13.3cm x 8.3cm) They gave me a COVID test and told me to self isolate until my surgery...which is scheduled for tomorrow.

It was upon learning how much larger this thing had become...that I named it...”Larry King”.

I don’t know why...but that seemed to be the name that fit whatever this thing is inside me. In my mind...it looks like Larry King...holding two shot glasses. One shot glass is filled with Dewar’s...the other is filled with Metamucil. He has a cigarette hanging out of his mouth...but I don’t know if he’s a “smoker” yet.

If it officially comes back as cancer...I’ll let you know. If it doesn’t...I’ll let you know that, too.

I’m not writing this for pity or attention...on the contrary. It’s all a lot for me to take in...and I’m just not sure how to process it all. Writing it out sort of helps.

In the middle of all of this over the past week...Tom Starr passed away. He was such a sweet man. There’s a picture that he took of us at CRS...it’s me...Tom...Lisa McKay and Heather Davis. I think Heather wrote a caption that said something like “it’s so hard to believe half of the people in this picture are gone”.

That was pretty heavy.

I’m still trying to process that actually. I thought the world of Tom, loved Lisa McKay (she got me when so many others didn’t)...and just to the left...there I was. I felt like a jerk for even taking a moment to feel bad for myself. There are so many other people who have it so much worse than I do. And what if there’s nothing to this thing? What if it’s just some sort freak thing? There are so many people who’ve fought so hard and powered through so much and here I am...maybe worried for nothing...getting ready to have surgery...and it feels wrong to worry about myself. Whatever is done is done and I’ll fight whatever I need to fight. If it’s not cancer (oh God please let them all be wrong) then I have a lot of things that I need to do...and other people’s opinions and judgment that don’t have any place in my head or the right to exist in my life’s body of work or otherwise. I’ll just keep praying for them.

I keep telling myself those doctors could be wrong. Until I see a pathology report...this isn’t real.

While I appreciate and am thankful for any prayers you can send up on my behalf...please don’t feel obliged to write anything on this post. Seriously. I just needed to get this all out and behind me.

I HATE “bleeding on the internet”. It’s a serious pet peeve. Not everyone is worthy of knowing everything that’s going on...nor should they be expected to care...but I realize sometimes people need reinforcement and support. I still don’t like sharing MY business on here. It feels weird. I’ll talk about things on the air...that I don’t care to regurgitate on Facebook.

I’ll talk about award shows, TV, things that are funny...pictures...but it’s not my business who you vote for or what you believe in. I’m just glad that you DO. Better to have convictions and purpose than be apathetic. Over the years...it’s been amazing to see how a simple picture I’ve posted or link (without even commenting on it...just a pic or simple URL) how it can make people lose their minds.

You will never solve life’s problems on Facebook or any other social media platform. It controls you. You/we are merely the peanut gallery from which billions of dollars are “mined” every single minute we’re on here.

The smartest thing I ever had laid on me about social media was from an interview with a Silicon Valley person that said “If you’re not creating the product...you ARE the product. Think about that.

Our world is so messed up right now. And no matter what party you’re affiliated with...it just seems very wrong to lump everyone together and vilify them all. Not everyone is evil. Not everyone is right or wrong. Writing people off is so inhumane. You really can disagree with someone and not hate them.

I remember being at a concert in a few years ago and had just learned some pretty tough stuff that was impacting a competitor, and shared that with one of the leaders that I worked with. They’d taken a huge blow...which was awesome strategically...but it happened at the same time the competitors PD had lost his mother. I remember expressing that I felt bad for the guy (specifically about losing his mother)...and without batting an eye...the guy I worked with said he didn’t feel sorry for him at all. “That’s just too bad!” He said other things but I won’t go there because that would reveal who that person is...and the person for whom he was speaking about that day. Now...in my heart I hoped that guy who up until then I’d had so much respect for...did NOT know what happened to this guys mom. It just felt gross talking to him. I never looked at him the same way again. It was all about depth. There was nothing there. Very disappointing. I once cared what this guy thought about me...but that was done. And living through this now underscores that feeling and reminds me on a personal level what really is important. That’s a lot for a workaholic like me to process.

I’m signing off now. It got sort of “ramblesque” there at the end. Sorry about that. As for all the other stuff...I’ll let you know how it all turns out.

7 notes · View notes

altumvidetur · 4 years

Text

Kaishin Fic Recs

Previously: Haikyuu!! Fic Recs

So, I was thinking about the coronavirus pandemic and what I could do to help people out. I’m isolated because I’m at higher risk, so I can’t really offer to go out for my elderly neighbors or my family… but I thought I could try to help keep people entertained.

Because I don’t have an AO3 account right now, I’ve been compiling fic recs for my own amusement for a year or so. And I thought – maybe that’s the time to share these with everyone? So everyone will have plenty of things to read while they have to stay at home, or even to escape anxiety a little bit if you’re forced to go out.

Of course, these cater to my own tastes, so you may find stuff you don’t like around here. I never include works in progress. The Mature and Explicit works will be in italic. I ask you to READ THE WORK’S TAGS before continuing, so you won’t find anything that makes you uncomfortable.

I’ve decided to split it in a series of posts, and, well, when it comes to DCMK, I have one major OTP. So here’s enough Kaishin to keep you entertained for a year:

The Dwelling Night, by proser132

Three shot. KaiShin. Brief moments were all they had, but dwelling on dreams is sometimes enough.

In Theory, by orphan_account

Kaito's got a whole list of cheesy and awful pickup lines to use on Shinichi.

(Un)fortunately for him, Shinichi's got just as many to throw back.

As You Wish, by orphan_account

Shinichi hasn't been doing a very good job of pretending he isn't hiding something from Kaito, and Kaito is more than determined to find out what it is -- even if it means asking everyone the detective knows in order to do so.

He just wants to know what all the boxes are for.

you’re the reason i come home, by LunaDarkside

Shinichi comes home after a two-week investigation in New York. Kaito could not be more thrilled.

Lovesick, by DragonSorceress22

"You know what I want? I want a fic where Kaito sends out a heist notice but then he gets sick but he can't NOT go. I guess it could go the other way too, where Conan solves a heist notice but then he gets sick but he can't NOT go. I want to read that fic." "There's tons of fics like that..." And now there's one more.

whispers and nicks and all these tricks, by LunaDarkside

In which there is sex pollen at a heist, and Kaito and Shinichi end up in the same room. Coincidentally enough.

Be Real, by DragonSorceress22

This, KID thought, was what someone reaching their limit looked like.

a study in scarlette, by kittebasu

There are people who want to live forever, and then there is Shinichi, who just wants to live a little longer than this.

wait a minute (so you’re not just losing the dress), by LunaDarkside

Everything is overwhelmingly good. And then Kaito has to go and say it.

“I’ve never done this before,” he mumbles mindlessly against the pliant softness of Shinichi’s lips, and everything immediately stops.

“Wait, what?” Shinichi jerks upwards, eyes wide.

Or, neither Shinichi nor Kaito has any experience, but they make do.

The printer’s a lie, by OrphanText

In which Kuroba has an annoying printer, a very good looking (and mildly terrifying) RA, and general bad ideas up his sleeves (but it works out in the end).

The Alcohol Test, by DragonSorceress22

When your rival-turned-best-friend is a phantom thief who has recently reached legal drinking age, there’s really only one responsible way to approach the matter. Spreadsheets.

Getting Off Track, by solomonara

The easiest way to find out what someone wants is to ask them, so of course neither Shinichi nor Kaito KID is going to do that. (OR: In which Shinichi and Kaito KID take turns falling into each other's arms.)

Wouldn’t Change A Thing, by BlackKatJinx

“Don't you get tired of it?”

“'It'?” He asks.

“Stealing.”

By Any Other Name, by AngelicSentinel

the one where you don’t know your soulmate until you hear them say your name.

Snowed In, by DragonSorceress22

Shinichi and Kaito are exceptionally bad at quiet nights at home.

Go Out With a Bang (Since We’re to Wilt Anyway), by KXL

Love can be cruel, and painful, but Kaito knew that already. Maybe he's just a masochist.

take in another breath (get closer), by Melomaniac

He paused on the threshold of the door between the pseudo-corridor and the seating area, and faintly corrected himself. Not as alone as he thought. Not as alone at all.

Sat by himself, with his chin resting on his hand, an arm loosely propped on the small table, an explosion of paper and assorted important looking documents in front of him, flask of (presumably) coffee held to his lips, was Kudou Shinichi, whose eyes had met Kaito’s when he walked into the carriage, had widened, and hadn’t looked away since.

In which there is a late night (or an early morning), a train, copious amounts of flirting, a phone, a name, and a stolen heart.

Last Day Again, by Phantoms_Echo

(Summary by me: Groundhog Day!AU with Kaito becoming more and more unhinged as he desperately tries to break the time loop he’s stuck in.)

Net Force, by LunaDarkside

Ran decides it's high time for Shinichi and Kaito to get together. Awkward matchmaking ensues.

Of Corset Hurts, by KXL

Shinichi and Kaito are both pretty much done with the situation, though for somewhat different reasons. Both reasons involve overly long dresses to some degree.

Ace up Their Sleeves, by Procrastination_Sensation

Summary by me: Soulmates!AU in which seeing your soulmark in someone else (your soulmate) causes debilitating pain until the two of you kiss.

Murder by Cremation, by KXL

Capturing the lawless monsters who ate people after burning them up was, apparently, the easy part.

Halloween Heist, by Phantoms_Echo

Because Halloween Scavenger Hunt doesn't sound as nice.

Trick or Treat, Tantei-kun! Up for a little Halloween game? I’ve left clues all over town. Find them all, you’ll get a treat. Fail to find them in time, you’ll get a trick. Good luck, Tantei-kun. -Kaitou KID

the suffering of fools, by AngelicSentinel

It's Las Vegas; the lights are bright, the liquor is flowing, and Ran married someone other than Shinichi. He just wants to drown his sorrows, but a half-familiar face steals his drink.

♠ ♦ ♣ ♥ Case Files, by AngelicSentinel

Solving life's little mysteries, one at a time.

one-shots in the suffering of fools universe

A Study in Trust, by Calculatrice

Conan swallows anger and condemnation and, for the very first time, gives Kaitou KID the benefit of the doubt. ________________

In which Conan constantly has to revise what he thinks of a certain thief, and is frankly getting pretty sick of feeling like his subconscious is already ahead of him.

Jacket, by Calculatrice

He turns to look at KID, grimacing as his overlong sleeves swish around him.

“It doesn’t exactly fit me,” he frowns as he points out the obvious. “Does this do anything for you?”

Kiss and tell., by DragonSorceress22

Shinichi might have gotten a little ahead of himself. And KID. Luckily, Hakuba has a level head and a soft spot for lovesick genius-idiots.

the goat one-shot, by helloimtrash

They're family now.

Interrogation, by Calculatrice

Admittedly, there are many things Kaito could probably be blamed for, but pulling Shinichi into the nearest empty hallway to kiss him senseless isn’t one of them.

So It Goes, by Calculatrice

It goes like this.

(In which Murphy’s Law isn’t much of a law - more something to be gleefully stomped on.)

Mii Plaza, by Calculatrice and helloimtrash

“Okay,” Kaito grins as the opening notes of Wii Sports ring out. “Are you ready for defeat?”

“Can’t we just play Mario Kart,” Shinichi frowns, crossing his legs as he watches Kaito push the coffee table out of the way. “It’s like, one in the morning.”

The Forensics of Falling, by LunaDarkside

[FF.Net Link] When fans of world-famous magician and actor Kuroba Kaito begin turning up dead, Inspector Kudou Shinichi is put on the case.

the toxicology of trust, by LunaDarkside

World-famous magician and actor Kuroba Kaito and the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Force's star inspector Kudou Shinichi finally get some much-needed time off. Or they would, if there wasn't a killer on their cruise.

(sequel to The Forensics of Falling)

On Familiarity, by lastdream

No one had ever known Kaito quite like Shinichi did, and Kaito wasn't sure he could take it.

Lies and the Art of Relaxation, by DragonSorceress22

Shinichi is stressed and Kaito is a liar. Business as usual.

And Again, by Calculatrice

It’s late, late in the night, and while on another night they may have been awake and neck-deep in plans, or perhaps delirious and making silly conversation, tonight he and Kaito are both curled in bed.

the only bed worth sleeping, by LunaDarkside

Kaito's not a detective, but he's pretty sure there's no logical explanation for Shinichi's disappearance from his apartment. Or for the cat that's shown up in his kitchen.

Magic Eight Ball, by Rikkamaru

Shinichi chases Kaitou Kid into the Blue Parrot thinking he's injured.

(For the Kaishin Discord, which made a "challenge" that a few people took up.)

swing for the fences, by LunaDarkside

"How to Fall in Love with Kudou Shinichi (Featuring Pink Panties, Dead Bodies, and Ill-Advised Bets): A Comprehensive and Kind of Embarrassing Guide" by Kuroba Kaito.

In The Soul, by Calculatrice

Shinichi ferries souls from the shores of the living to those of the dead, so they may pass safely on to an eternal afterlife. It’s really not a difficult concept, and definitely not one he thought could be wilfully ignored, but Kuroba Kaito obviously didn’t get the memo.

even miracles, by LunaDarkside

“No, Mother,” Shinichi says pleasantly. “I don’t think it would be a good idea to host a dinner party to find me a wife.”

bros before, by LunaDarkside

Shinichi needs a fake date for his parents' vow renewal ceremony. Naturally, he asks his best friend, Hattori.

maybe I was going too fast, by Ann1215

A year after Kaito faces off Conan, who'd figured out his identity, he comes across Kudou Shinichi during their first year of university.

Trouble is, Kudou has no idea who Kaito is.

swear i’ll never leave again, by Ann1215

When Kaito eventually grows tired of his mother's relentless matchmaking tendencies, he ropes Shinichi into tricking everyone they know and love that they're both engaged. To each other. And it's easy enough, because all they have to do is:

1. Don't lie to each other. 2. Don't tell anyone about their plan. 3. Don't fall in love with each other.

At least, it was supposed to be easy.

(See you) Next Illusion!, by PhantomsEcho

Collections of Oneshots too long to fit in Next Conan Hint.

beneath a waxing moon, by kittebasu

The man stares at him, and then shakes his head, messy hair shaking with it. “Car trouble, Detective?” The way his lips curl around the word ‘detective’ strikes Shinichi as strange, eerily familiar, and Shinichi almost has to physically shake the feeling away before he can reply.

“Engine’s making a weird noise,” Shinichi says, and then his thoughts catch up with alacrity, his muscles tensing all at once. “What makes you think I’m a detective?”

“Police tags on your car,” the man replies, grin growing wider. “Plus this is a Camry from the nineties. No one drives those but police, these days, and regular officers drive patrol cars.” He leans forward a little, gloved hands circling his helmet and lowering it slightly to his handlebars for extra balance. “Far from undercover, if you know what you’re looking for.”

The cloud cover shifts, revealing the gorgeous full moon, and the light catches the man just right, surrounding him in a pearly glow and putting his face in shadow. “And you know what you’re looking for?”

broken glass, by jadedgalaxies

KID presses Shinichi into the wall, covering his mouth with a gloved hand and shushing him quietly. Shinichi’s heart thrums. KID isn’t looking at him but every part of KID that is pressed against Shinichi is electrified. Even amidst the circumstances that led to this moment, KID’s heartbeat is steady under Shinichi’s trembling fingers. His hair tickles Shinichi’s nose, his scent sweet and overpowering. KID is warm, alive, thrilling. Shinichi’s face warms.

In this moment, beneath the pale moonlight, helping KID evade arrest, detective Kudou Shinichi realizes he’s in love with the Phantom Thief, Kaitou KID. And he probably has been for a long time.

Shinichi realizes he's in love with Kaitou KID and that's just the beginning.

Owned and Never More Free, by Curry Jolokia

Kaitou Kid is uncatchable. Except for this.

about a love that glows, by LunaDarkside

The good news is that it’s not an overt time limit on his life, and it’s not anything parasitic. It’s not a life-force drainer, or a bad luck charm, or a magnet for unfortunate circumstances. It’s not going to bother him in day-to-day life.

The bad news is that if Shinichi falls in love with someone, he’ll die. And they’ll die.

(There is no good news, really.)

the empty vault of night, by AngelicSentinel

Shinichi offers Kid a gift. For a price.

Sound of Silence, by Cesela

His return to being Kudou Shinichi was not everything he had hoped for, not with Ran moving on, a limp and a shattered soul as he struggles with the return to normalcy. And then there’s the neighbour with a soft smile slowly battering down his walls. Kaishin / Shinkai

A Case Closed Carol, by solomonara

With apologies to Charles Dickens. Shinichi is working way too hard and has zero time for Christmas or anything else, really. But a rather unlikely source is about to put him back on track...

where villains spend the weekend, by aishiteita

A former teen sleuth enlists a should-be-retired-thief's help to slap ennui in the face.

(Alternatively, a study in motives.)

always ends in a hazy shower scene, by LunaDarkside

Shinichi didn’t mean to shack up with an internationally wanted thief.

#fic recs #detective conan #magic kaito #dcmk #kaishin #kuroba kaito #kudou shinichi #please warn me if any links are broken #and reblog it if you can so more people will see it

135 notes · View notes

singledarkshade · 3 years

Text

Deadly Puzzle

Summary: Rip's mother is visiting and he's nervous about introducing her to Miranda and Jonas. At the same time a notorious serial killer is on the loose in Central City and is looking for Gideon to play his game. The stakes are high and Gideon begins to fear she could lose someone she loves before they stop him. Author’s Note: Part of the Psych Verse with��@incendiaglacies, this is set after Draining The Swamp, The Thing That Wrecks You and Case of the Lying Jerk Face. This is our version of the first Yang episode and some of the transcript from the show was used in parts.Thanks to @incendiaglacies for the support in writing this one. Hope you enjoy. *********************************************

Part One

Gideon grimaced as Rip moved her off the couch so he could plump the cushions and gave an indignant cry when he took the almost full mug of hot chocolate out her hands.

“Okay,” she sighed, “Why are you acting like this?”

“My mother is due here soon,” Rip reminded her.

Gideon shrugged, “I know. Why do you think I’m here?”

“To eat my food, watch my tv, use my wi-fi,” Rip listed.

Rolling her eyes, she snatched her mug back, “I want to see Mary. Why are you going insane? Mary loves you and you’re unnaturally tidy as it is. If you clean this place any more surgeons could use it to operate in.”

“Gideon,” he sighed, dropping onto the couch, “I haven’t told her about Miranda or Jonas yet.”

Gideon’s eyes widened, “Oh!!!”

“What if…” he swallowed, “What if this means she doesn’t want any more to do with me?”

“Rip…” Gideon winced, sad to see the vulnerability and fear in his eyes that the only mother he had ever known would disown him.

“My first memory is of my father telling me I was worthless,” Rip whispered, “And leaving me in the street.” Gideon sat at his side and took his hand, “I was eight when Mary came to the home for the first time. I ignored her because no one ever wanted me, why would she?”

Gideon shifted slightly closer to him comfortingly, she knew Rip’s past just like he knew hers but let him talk because he needed to get this off his chest.

“I never believed she’d keep me,” Rip sighed, “Suddenly there were adoption papers and we moved here. What if me keeping this from her…what if she decides…”

“Hey,” Gideon hugged him as he trailed off, “Mary loves you more than anything. I know this. And okay, the fact you kept your marriage a secret will upset her, and I will happily trash you with her about that, but you’re giving her a grandson. She will not disown you. She might be mad, but Mary will adore Jonas. I promise you.”

Rip rested his forehead against his best friend’s while Gideon rubbed his arms.

“Thank you,” he breathed.

Gideon’s phone rang as she watched Rip cleaning the kitchen floor for the second time since she’d arrived. He’d calmed down slightly but he was still in hyper-tidy mode. If she’d realised this earlier then she would have aimed him at her apartment, it could do with a tidy.

“Hi Gideon,” Kendra said the moment she answered, “What are you doing tonight?”

“Nothing much,” she replied, “Rip’s mum is due here soon so just waiting to see her.”

“Well, I have two tickets for the preview of the latest Bleeding Hearts movie,” Kendra told her.

Gideon let out a squeal of excitement making Rip turn to her in confusion.

“You’re serious?” Gideon demanded.

“Completely,” Kendra told her before asking, “Are you at Rip’s?”

“Yes.”

“I will be there in twenty minutes,” she told her, “I don’t want to be late, so please be ready for me.”

“Of course,” Gideon replied, “See you then.”

Hanging up she bounded over to her best friend, “Kendra just called, she’s going to pick me up to go see the next Bleeding Hearts movie.”

Rip frowned in thought, “That’s the hideous vampire romance movies you love.”

“They’re not hideous. They’re fun and cheesy,” Gideon told him before changing the subject, “Mary is due here soon and you’ve got to tell her everything tonight. If you don’t then I will not cover for you.”

Kissing his cheek, Gideon turned when the buzzer sounded.

Mary had arrived.

Rip hugged his mother tightly when she stepped into his apartment.

“You’re looking well, darling,” Mary smiled, taking his face in her hands. It was something she’d done from day one letting him know that he was important.

“So are you,” Rip replied, before stepping back as Gideon bounced impatiently.

Mary laughed as Gideon hugged her, “Oh my dear sweet Gideon. I have missed you and your smile.”

“It’s good to see you,” Gideon said before sighing, “I have to go. I’m going out with a friend.”

Mary hugged her again, “Okay, sweetheart. Have fun and join us for lunch tomorrow.”

Gideon smiled and kissed Mary’s cheek, “I will.”

While Mary took her case into the spare room, Gideon turned to Rip.

“Just tell her everything in one go,” she told him, “It’ll be easier.”

Rip frowned, “Is that how you’d do it?”

Gideon shrugged innocently, “Of course. How do you think I got away with so much?”

Shaking his head Rip leaned in and kissed her temple, “Have fun.”

With a smile she grabbed her jacket, giving Mary another hug before leaving. Rip took several deep breaths while he made them some tea. He took it out to where Mary was sitting, along with her favourite biscuits taking the seat across from her.

“Is something wrong?” his mother asked, astute as always.

Rip sighed, “Not wrong but I have some things I need to tell you.”

“Okay,” she took a sip of her tea.

Taking a quick drink, Rip finally said, “Do you remember when I was in London for the semester during University that I was seeing someone?”

“Yes,” Mary nodded, “I also remember you telling me not to tell Gideon.”

He grimaced before continuing, “Her name was Miranda and when we were in Vegas for the seminar…” he trailed off.

“Michael, spit it out,” Mary said, “It can’t be that bad.”

Rip winced, “We got married. We ended it quickly which is why I never told anyone.”

“Why tell me now?” Mary asked.

He sighed, “Miranda moved here very recently and she…well…it turns out…” he took a deep breath, “She brought her son, who is also mine.”

Mary stared at him, “You have a son?”

Rip nodded, swallowing nervously.

Mary sat in silence for several minutes, drinking her tea as Rip watched her.

“How long have you known about the child?” Mary asked finally.

“I only found out a few weeks ago, Mother,” Rip whispered, “I promise, and I wanted to tell you in person.”

“What’s his name?”

“Jonas,” Rip pulled out his phone and quickly found a picture, “This is him.”

Mary took the phone and a small smile touched her lips, “He looks almost exactly like you the day I met you. Except he’s smiling.”

Rip smiled, “Mother…”

“I,” Mary cut him off, “Am going to get some rest. It was a long flight and I didn’t get any sleep during it. We can talk in the morning, dear.”

“Mother,” Rip whispered worriedly standing the moment she did.

Mary reached out and took his face in her hands, pulling him down so she could kiss his forehead, “Goodnight, dear.”

Rip watched her head to the spare room, not sure how she was feeling about him after the news.

*********************************************

“Morning, Gideon,” the hostess greeted her as she arrived at the café, “You’re here first. I’ve got the table in the corner, looking out over the bay set up for you and your party.”

Gideon grinned, “Hi Holly, that’s great.”

“New girl, Vanessa is going to be waiting on you,” Holly told her, “She’s only been with us two weeks, don’t terrify her.”

Innocence covered Gideon’s face, “Would I do that?”

Holly chuckled before ignoring the other woman, “The specials are on the board as always.”

“Thanks, Holly,” Gideon smiled as she slid into her seat, picking up the menu to peruse it while she waited for the others to join her.

Gideon already chosen what she was going to have for breakfast when Rip and Mary arrived for breakfast. While Mary paused to speak with someone she knew, Rip joined Gideon at the table.

“How did it go?” she asked.

Rip sighed, “She’s barely talked to me all morning.”

Gideon squeezed his hand, “Well, she came to meet them.”

“I guess,” Rip grimaced, he looked up as Mary joined them.

“Gideon,” Mary hugged her, “How was your movie?”

Gideon let out a heartfelt sigh, “It was so romantic and funny. Definitely the best entry in the series so far.”

Rip’s phone began to ring, “It’s work, I’ll be a minute.”

While he moved away from the table to talk Gideon turned to Mary, “You know he’s really worried you’re so upset that you’ll disown him.”

“I’m a little angry he didn’t tell me he married this woman,” Mary said.

Gideon nodded, “I know how you feel.”

“And the fact I’m now a grandmother without any warning,” Mary continued, “I’m just…I’m having a little difficulty getting my head round it.”

Gideon squeezed her hand, “I was really mad at him too about not telling me he had married Miranda, but he didn’t know about Jonas.”

Mary looked over at Rip, “What is she like?”

“I hate to say this,” Gideon wrinkled her nose, “But I like her. She’s honestly the kind of person I would be happy he married. She is smart, creative and we get along really well.”

“And Jonas?”

Gideon let out a soft sigh, “He is so adorable, and Rip is really good with him.”

Rip reappeared just as the final two members of their party arrived.

“Daddy!!” Jonas’ happy voice filled the air as he ran to Rip and jumped into his arms.

Rip hugged him tightly, the wonderful smile touching his lips that Gideon had only seen since Rip had met his son.

“Hi Gideon,” Jonas ran over to hug her.

Giving the little boy a tight hug, Gideon knew that as angry she had been that Rip had married someone without her knowledge, she would never wish away the little boy whose smile brightened her day every time she saw him.

“I want you to meet someone,” Rip said, taking his son’s hand, “Jonas, this is your grandmother.”

Mary leaned forward and offered her hand, “It is lovely to meet you, Jonas.” “Hi,” the little boy said shyly.

“And Mother,” Rip continued, “This is Miranda.”

Gideon watched as Mary stood to greet Miranda, who was looking nervous even though she and Rip were no longer a couple.

“It’s nice to meet you finally, dear,” Mary said.

Relief filled Miranda’s eyes, and she smiled, “You too.”

Brunch went well.

Mary instantly adored Jonas, while she got along with Miranda well. Gideon smiled at the relief in Rip’s eyes.

“So, tell me more about your work with the police?” Mary asked suddenly.

Gideon glanced at Rip who shrugged letting her speak.

“I’m just using the gifts I have to help the police solve crimes,” Gideon gave a sweet smile, “Rip looks after the business side of things.”

Mary nodded, “Well, that sparkling brain of yours should be used for some good. I never liked how you bounced from job to job.”

“She has solved multiple cases for the police,” Rip added with a proud smile.

“We,” Gideon reminded him.

“And saved my neck,” Miranda noted.

Mary squeezed Gideon’s hand, “Well, our little Gideon was always special. From the moment I met her, I knew she would do great things.”

Miranda suddenly smiled mischievously, “You know I would love to hear the story of how you all met. Rip has never told me, and Gideon simply changes the subject.”

Mary looked at her son and his best friend who both became very interested in their drinks.

“Maybe one day,” Mary winked at Miranda.

Miranda’s phone buzzed and she sighed, “I am sorry, but Jonas has a trip to the zoo in Star City this afternoon. Their hippopotamus had a baby which his nature group at school has been following the progress of and,” she turned to her son who was sitting quietly and tapped his knee, “Why don’t you tell your Grandma what you’re doing?”

Jonas bit his lip for a moment before shrugging, “We’re getting to be keepers for the day.”

“That sounds wonderful,” Mary said, “You can tell us all about it tomorrow when I make us all dinner?”

Miranda smiled, “I think that sounds perfect.”

Jonas nodded.

“Okay,” Miranda said to her son, “Say bye to everyone and grab your bag. Otherwise, we’ll be late to catch the bus.”

Jonas shyly gave Mary a hug, before he bounded to Gideon and hugged her. Gideon held out her pinkie and they did their secret handshake. Finally, Jonas ran to Rip who hugged his son tightly.

“I’ll walk you out,” Rip said grabbing Jonas bag as he hugged his son to him.

Gideon turned to Mary who was watching them leave, “They look perfect together don’t they?”

“As disappointed as I am about how this came about,” Mary noted, “Michael is a natural father. And Jonas is just…” she let out a soft sigh, “He reminds me of my boy when I first took him in. Shy, sweet although not as skittish as Michael was.”

Before Gideon could say anything, Rip returned to the table.

“Kendra just called,” Rip said, as he quickly pulled out money to pay for their food, “Captain West wants us at the station ASAP.”

Gideon nodded, she quickly hugged Mary while Rip spoke to their waitress. Grabbing her bag Gideon let Rip hug his mother before they headed to his car.

None of them felt the eyes watching their every move.

#fic #ripfic #legends of tomorrow #psych au verse #rip hunter #gideon #mary xavier #miranda coburn #jonas hunter

3 notes · View notes

nala-raines · 4 years

Text

Chapter 1 Reminiscing

Adrian Raines x Nala August (MC)

Summary: Few months after Rheya’s defeat, Lily’s death, and telling the world the truth, Nala is both proud of Adrian for running for the Senate, and she’s terrified of what their future may hold. So, Adrian takes her on a surprise trip to spend some time alone together. But he has something he want to ask her for a very long time. But no matter what happens, they both want to make one thing clear on this trip, that no matter what happens, no matter what comes their way, they want to go through it. Together.

Author’s note: I know this is very long, but I hope you read and enjoy it. And this is the beginning of what I would want from BloodBound 4.

If my friend Heidi had told me everything that was going to happen to me right before I moved to New York City, I would have thought she was crazy. Looking back back now, I can’t help but laugh at most of it, and wonder how I survived it all. But I made it through with the help of Adrian, Kamilah, Jax, Gaius, and of course… Lily. I miss her every day. But I’m so thankful for everything that she, and everyone else has done. Especially Adrian.

A few days after the press conference I noticed that I was weaker than normal and something felt off. Adrian noticed it too, he thought that feeding would fix the problem, it helped a little, but it wasn’t until I had human food that I felt better. Then one day I had stayed at the Shadow Den and left right when the sun was coming up, but then I got out of the cab ready to run to the front doors at Raines Corp., but the sunlight didn’t hurt. I wasn’t burning at all, Adrian was at the door staring at me trying to get me inside when he noticed that I wasn’t burning as well. He still ran out to get me, but that when he noticed the sunlight didn’t really hurt him either. After running a few tests, we guessed that when I gave up Rheya’s powers, some of my vampiric abilities, like the weakness, left me as well. I’m pretty sure the serum made a few permanent changes to Adrian’s body. They just took awhile for those changes to develop.

After hearing that, I was worried that Adrian, as ridiculous as it sounds, would leave me. Between the grief of losing Lily, the thought of Adrian going through the same pain and grief of losing me a few months earlier, and with Lily gone I can’t help but remember the other people I’ve loved and lost, the bad relationship between me, my sister, and parents, it was just too much. When I told him, he just held. Told me “I love you.” a few dozen times in 3 minutes. He also let me bury my face in his shoulder or chest and cry, until I fell asleep. He’s always been there when I need him, and I know that he always will be.

A month after things began to settle down, he started planning his campaign to become the first vampire senator. I am so proud of him. That would be another thing that I never thought would happen, me dating a senator hopeful, but I don't really care what he does as long as I’m at his side and he’s at mine. Even in the middle of his campaign, he had planned us a trip to Paris. After dinner in a restaurant inside the Eiffel Tower, a trip to the top of the Eiffel tower, we decided to go back to the ‘Love Bridge’ to see if our lock was still there. When we found our lock, he said, “ I have to tell you something.”

“What is it? You know you can tell me anything.”

“ I did get you a Solstice present last year. I just didn’t want to make you feel pressured or lose you because of its purpose.” He told me. Looking at me in the eye, with nothing but love and adoration, but there was a hint of what seems to be… nervousness.

“Purpose?” I said confused, “What ‘purpose’ could the gift have that would make me feel pressured?”

“Nala… You know I love you, don’t you? More than anything in this or any other world? No matter what or how you're feeling, or how worried you are that I would… leave you.” He asked me worriedly, like the idea of me not knowing that he loved me so much, would kill him. “I need you to know that no matter what happens or what you do or what you say, I would never leave you. Never just … never.”

I had only seen him this desperate one other time. On the day I died… but there seems to be something else in his eyes, those beautiful gray eyes. I remember the first time I met him, the first time I looked into his beautiful gray eyes. Somehow I knew back then that he was the one, the one I wanted to be with, forever. Right now those eyes are filled with worry, nervousness, and hope. “Of course I know that you love me. I know that you would do anything for me. You show me everyday, multiple times a day. I know I’ve been a bit distant lately. After Lily… and I started becoming more human… I just felt overwhelmed. I started to feel like you could do better than me. Kamilah and Serafine are just so amazing … so in that cloud … I just began to wonder why you chose me.”

He looked at me sadly, “Nala, you are the bravest, sweetest, selfless, kindest, and craziest woman I have ever met. The way you see the world, help people you don’t even know, every single day, you surprise me with something about you that makes me love you even more.” I’m shocked and feel tears well up in my eyes. He's always been the most amazing man I’ve ever met, but somehow he just keeps getting better everyday. He’s looking at me with such love, such adoration… Oh I’m definitely gonna start crying happy tears now. And as usual he wipes them away. “Why are you crying, Love? Are you hurt?” He asks worriedly.

Ever since I became more human, I started having periods again. But my senses are still heightened so the pain is worse than before. To top it off they're a bit irregular, they started to become regular, but it’ll probably be irregular for a while. Adrian hates it when I’m hurting or sick, he especially hates it then I cry because of pain. Although, today this isn’t the case. “Don’t worry I’m not crying because I’m in pain. I’m crying because of you.” I tell him, while smiling.

“Because of me?! What do you …?” He says worried. I press my lips to his. Giving him a soft kiss. Before I decide to continue.

“I’m crying out of happiness, Adrian.” I tell him smiling widely. “You make me feel so loved and cherished everyday. You hold me, tell me how much I mean to you several times a day, everyday. When I’m filled with doubt, or feel alone, or feel depressed and filled with sadness, you're right there next to me. Like last week, I couldn’t stop thinking about Lily, while you were in the middle of your campaign and trying to teach me how to run your company, you stopped and held me close and tight in your arms, let me cry on your shoulder, even though I was wearing mascara, which ruined your suit when you had a meeting with your managers a few hours later.” We both chuckled at that last bit.

“A suit means nothing to me. The campaign, the company, doesn't mean a thing to me, if you are sad or unhappy.” He says looking me in the eye. A slight smile on his face.

“I know”, I say laughing a bit. “And that means the world to me. You make me so happy. I’m just so glad that you choose to spend your life with me.” I give him the most loving smile and give him the sweetest, most loving kiss I can.

He puts one hand on my cheek, the other on my waist holding me close. “I’m the one who’s luck, Nala.” He says softly. “I’ve put you in so much danger, I’ve done… monstrous things right in front of you.” He says remembering ferals, Vega, ferals again, Langdon, Priya,the crpytoferals, the Order attack the last time we were here and the one at Vlad’s castle and at the Order headquarters, Rheya, feral island, and last but Certainly not least, Rheya again. I cringe slightly remembering everything. But nothing that happened could’ve stopped me from being at his side. He breathes out a sigh, but before he can continue I say.

“I chose to be right here next to you. I have no regrets, and remake every last decision that I made just to here. Right here. Right now.”

“And you have no idea how grateful I am to hear that.” Adrian says smiling a little. But there’s that worry and nervousness again.

“Adrian is everything, okay? You seem nervous and worried.” Then I remember something he said a few minutes ago. What gift could have a purpose that would make Adrian nervous? “Adrian, what did you mean earlier? When you said you were nervous about the gift's purpose.”

Adrian looked down shyly and is definitely nervous now. He takes a deep breath, lets it out slowly, and begins to speak, “I … I love you. I love you, so much. Everyday, I thank the Lord that you are here next to me. I find it hard to believe that you are next to me, you could’ve had any one in the world and you chose me. A 300 year old vampire.”

“267 years old.” I correct him.

“Heh … Right.” He says before continuing, “I know that you are the bravest, sweetest, most amazing woman I have ever met. Better than Kamilah. Better than Serafine, Celia, ...and Eleanor.” The last one he says looking me directly in the eye.

I’m shocked, stunned speechless. I’m better than his frickin’ wife. The Mother of his first and only baby. His Beautiful baby boy, Charles. I know that they died over 200 years ago, and he grieved them ever since they died. But still … I’m moved, but still, that seems like overkill. “Adrian you don’t need to…” I try to say.

“No Nala. I mean it. The way I feel about you … the way I feel when I’m with you, no one else has been able to trigger. I’ve felt this way since the moment I laid eyes on you, when I walked into your interview… I honestly had no intentions in hiring an assistant, but I felt like if I let you go then, I would have regretted it everyday for the rest of my life.” He looks at me with some much love and adoration, I feel it everywhere in my body. I feel blush rising in my cheeks as he continues to speak.

“I love you Nala August. I always have and I always will. I want to give you everything in this world. You say that you’re lucky that I chose you to be at my side. But the truth is, you could have chosen anyone in the world to be with and yet you chose to be with me.” He paused a moment trying to piece together his next words, as if he wanted everything to be perfect.

“Nala, I love you with all of my heart, all of my strength, all that I am. You possess me body and soul. I would give up everything I have, do anything you ask of me, just to keep you at my side. I brought you here because this is the place where you first said “Our eternity”. The place where I want to tell you that I want that as well. I wanted to ask you to take the biggest leap of my life with me. But only if you want to take that leap with me.”

With that he let go of me, and proceeded to drop down onto one knee, pulling out a small box from his coat pocket. “I love you, I can’t really say that enough. As long as I live and breathe, I will tell you those three words, whether your answer be ‘yes’ or ‘no’. I want to see your face every morning when I wake up. I want your face to be the last face I see before I fall asleep at night. With everything that has been said tonight in mind, I ask you this. Nala August, will please do me the honor of allowing me to become your husband?”

He then flips open the velvet box, revealing a large diamond ring. The diamond in the center was enormous, and surrounded by smaller pink gems, all of which are on a double rose gold band. I’m stunned speechless yet again. He could’ve offered me a ring pop and wouldn’t have changed my answer. But my hands are covering my mouth, for a moment while I take in the scene. Adrian, down on one knee, offering me a giant diamond ring, after he asked me to marry him. I really, really, really hope I’m not dreaming right now. He’s staring at me, his eyes filled with hope and nervousness. The thing he doesn't know, is that I’ve known my answer since the day I met him.

“Y… yes.” I say quietly, just barely a whisper.

He looks at me, his eyes shining, hoping that he had heard me correctly. But before he could ask me again.

“Yes. Yes! Yes, Yes, YES!! Oui, Si. A thousand times Yes!” I say almost screaming. He breathes a sigh of relief, pulling the ring out of the box, sliding it onto my left hand ring-finger. But before he could stand up and kiss me, I tackle him to the ground, kissing him with all of the love and passion I can give him. He returns each kiss happily, with the same love and passion. I can faintly hear people cheering and clapping in the background. We separate long enough for him to pull us up, and he takes us back to the hotel where we are staying.

We both decided to wait a few days and live in our perfect bubble, before telling our friends and family. In those few days, we walked around Paris, toured some sites, and several private celebrations with just the two of us. All the while, we discuss when, where, and what decorations we will have at our wedding.

#adrian raines #bloodbound #adrian x mc

19 notes · View notes

avengerscompound · 5 years

Text

That Kid You Knew - Chapter 8

That Kid You Knew: An Iron Man Fanfic

Masterlist Previous //

Buy me a ☕

Warning: Fluff, mentions of pregnancy

Word Count: 3412

Pairing: Tony Stark x F!Reader

Summary: You had grown up knowing Tony Stark but as you’d gotten older you’d lost track of him. When you see him at a party you have a drug-fueled one-night-stand with him.

10 years later he finds you again and has to come to terms with the fact he’s been a father all the time.

Chapter 8

Tony straightened his tie as he looked in the mirror. His heart was racing even more than usual. There had been several occasions already today that he had been fairly certain he was going to go into full-blown cardiac arrest.

Today was the day. After months and months of planning, people losing their absolute fucking minds on the internet and not in the good way, booking venues and musicians and celebrants, ordering cakes, meeting with designers and planners, the paparazzi literally stalking the two of you at every turn, a bachelor party in Vegas that lasted a week, three days if which were still unaccounted for, he was marrying you.

The pale gray Armani suit was tailored to fit him exactly. It was two pieces and hugged his body without pulling tight anywhere. You’d left the color and style up to him, saying his designers new more than you did. There was one notable exception though. The magenta tie he wore that matched the orchid he wore in his lapel. Those were all you.

Your relationship hadn't been the standard; meet the woman, start dating, fall in love, get married, have kids thing that society had decided was the order you do things in. Tony didn't care. He didn't really consider himself a standard guy. Besides he has never expected to do any of those things anyway. If the universe had decided to send him the kid before the falling in love and finish up with the wedding, he could roll with that. It felt good to have it.

It had taken a lot of juggling and healing, but Tony was now comfortably a dad. Not only that, he was in love. That part he hadn’t expected at all. But here he was, about to stand under an arch of twinkling lights and flowers while he waited to see you walk down the aisle in your wedding dress. He was excited and terrified all at once.

“Dad, can you help me with this?”

Owen’s voice snapped him out of his daydream and he turned to look at his son. Owen was thirteen now. He’d had to teach him how to shave. Owen had laughed the whole time and asked him if he was sure he didn’t need a ruler if he wanted the same effect as Tony. He was prone to random bouts of sullenness and had an acid tongue, but all in all, he was a good kid. Tony was really proud of him. He still had moments that he’d wished he’d been there from the start, but there was still plenty of life experiences they would get to share.

Owen was fumbling with his tie. Tony stepped over to him and helped him fix the double Windsor knot that Owen was struggling with. He was wearing a two-piece in white but the tie was the same magenta as Tony’s. He was a skinny kid, but tall. He could already look Tony directly in the eye. “You look good, bud. How do I look?”

Owen smiled. “Yeah, dad. Mom’s going to love it.”

There was a knock at the door and Rhodey entered. “You two ready? The way you’re going she’s going to be out there before we are.”

Tony ran his hands along the shoulders of Owen’s jacket. “Yeah, I think so. Let’s do this.”

You stood, taking a few deep breaths as your bridesmaids and your stylist fussed around you. Your dress was a simple a-line with capped sleeves, in white lace and tulle. The skirt almost floated around you, and you knew it didn’t matter how much they tugged or pulled at it, it was going to fall exactly as you wanted it to.

Your stylist fixed the flowers into your hair. You weren’t sure if you were ever going to get used to having a stylist even though you had used one for every red carpet and other official event Tony had dragged you along too.

She adjusts your breasts again, adding a little more tape. “You are completely spilling out of this dress.” She said.

You laughed. “Yeah. This low cut might have been a mistake in hindsight.” You agreed.

She laughed too and stood back, looking you over. “I’ll give your bridesmaids some tape just in case, but I’ll be around too.”

You smiled and thanked her before looking over at your dad. “How do I look?”

He returned the smile with such love it made your heart swell. “You look beautiful, darling. How do you feel?”

“A little queasy.” You said.

“That’s to be expected.” Your mother said. “You ready?”

You took your bouquet of white lilies and magenta orchids, nodded and your father offered you his elbow. He led you outside and down the boardwalk towards the beach. You were on a private island in the Bahamas that Tony had booked out completely. There was no risk of paparazzi, so you strolled, arm-in-arm with your dad, just worrying about the beating of your heart.

“I’m so proud of you, you know?” Your dad said, patting your hand. “It would have been so easy for you to try and trap that boy into this. But instead, you decided to take the hard road because you thought it would protect Owen. I know because you’re now getting married that you think you made the wrong choice, but you did it for the right reasons. And you’ve done an amazing job raising him alone.”

Your tears threaten to break and you run your fingertips under your eyelashes to brush them away. “Thank you, dad.” You whispered.

He gave your hand a squeeze and kissed your cheek. The chairs set up on the sand come into view and all eyes turn to you. The guests are full of family and friends and some of Tony’s work acquaintances. A quartet of guitars start playing ‘Fluff’ by Black Sabbath and you started walking down the petal-strewn aisle formed between the rows of chairs on the sand.

Tony’s face lit up when he saw you, such a look of pure love etched on his features makes your heart swell. Beside him stood Owen who had the biggest smile on his face. Rhodey flanked Owen’s other side, smiling as you approached. By the time you made it to the wedding arch Tony’s eyes are glistening and you couldn’t help but lean in and kiss him right away.

The celebrant cleared his throat and began.

“Welcome, family, friends and loved ones. We gather to this beautiful spot today to celebrate the wedding of these two people. You have all traveled a long way to share this formal commitment they make to one another after a long history between them, and to offer your love and support of the union. They wanted to share this day with those of you who are nearest and dearest to them.

“Marriage is perhaps the greatest and most challenging adventure of human relationships. No ceremony can create your marriage; only you can do that through love and patience; through dedication and perseverance; through talking and listening, helping and supporting and believing in each other; through tenderness and laughter; through learning to forgive, learning to appreciate your differences, and by learning to make the important things matter, and to let go of the rest. What this ceremony can do is to witness and affirm the choice you make to stand together as lifemates and partners.”

Owen took center stage to do a reading next and he stood between the two of you nervously. Tony put his hand on Owen’s shoulder to reassure him, while you took his free hand.

“‘What is REAL?’ asked the Rabbit one day, when they were lying side by side near the nursery fender before Nana came to tidy the room. ‘Does it mean having things that buzz inside you and a stick-out handle?’

‘Real isn’t how you are made,’ said the Skin Horse. ‘It’s a thing that happens to you. When someone loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but REALLY loves you, then you become Real.’

‘Does it hurt?’ asked the Rabbit.

‘Sometimes,’ said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful. ‘When you are Real you don’t mind being hurt.’

‘Does it happen all at once, like being wound up,’ he asked, ‘or bit by bit?’

‘ It doesn’t happen all at once,’ said the Skin Horse. ‘You become. It takes a long time. That’s why it doesn’t happen often to people who break easily or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in your joints and very shabby. But these things don’t matter at all, because once you are Real you can’t be ugly, except to people who don’t understand.’

‘I suppose you are real?’ said the Rabbit. And then he wished he had not said it, for he thought the Skin Horse only smiled.

‘Someone made me Real,’ he said. ‘That was a great many years ago; but once you are Real you can’t become unreal again. It lasts for always.’” Owen read.

Owen moved back to his spot and the celebrant spoke again.

“We’ve come to the point of the ceremony where you’re going to say your vows to one another. But first, to do that, I ask you to remember that love - that is rooted in trust and acceptance - will be the foundation of an abiding and deepening relationship. No other ties are more tender. You do not take the vows today out of any religious or civic law, but out of a desire to love and be loved by another person fully, without limitation, then your life will have joy and the home you establish will be a place in which you will both find the direction of your growth, your freedom, and your responsibility.”

Tony took a deep breath and squeezed your hands. “I take you to be my wife, my constant friend and partner, and my love.

“I vow to honor and you and respect you for all that you are and will become, taking pride in who we are, both separately and together.

“I promise that I am going to challenge you every day. But that, I will also accept challenges from you.

“Our home will be a sanctuary and a respite for us and the people we love most.

“Above all, I give you my love freely and unconditionally. I pledge this to you, from the bottom of my heart, for all the days of our lives.” He said, his eyes glistening.

You smiled and swallowed lifting his hands to your mouth and kissing the back of them. “I take you to be my husband, my constant friend, and partner and my love.

“I will work to create a bond of honesty, respect and trust; one that withstands the tides of time and change, and grows along with us.

“I will join you and our community in an ongoing struggle to create a world we all want to live in, where love and friendship will be recognized and celebrated in their many forms.

“Above all, I will give you my love freely and unconditionally. I pledge this to you, from the bottom of my heart, for all the days of our lives.” You said.

“May I have the rings please?” The celebrant asked.

Owen fumbled to get them out of his pocket and his hand shook a little as he handed them over to each of you.

“Repeat after me: I give you this ring, as a daily reminder of my love for you.”

You and Tony both repeated the words as you slid the rings into place.

“By the power of your love and commitment, and the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife! You may kiss each other!”

Tony wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you close, dipping you kissed deeply and everyone applauded.

After you did the legal paperwork and took photos you joined the rest of the guests at tables set up under lights a little further down the beach. Everything felt like a whirlwind. Dinner was served. The starters were set up on a grazing table. There were dips, crackers, and artisan bread, several kinds of cheese, olives, chargrilled vegetables, and sliced deli meats. As well as oysters, shrimp, arancini, pork belly, rice paper rolls, and other small finger foods to get everyone started. That was followed by a seated entree of either rack of lamb, herb potato gnocchi, ragu of chorizo, chickpeas, onion and capsicum and chimichurri, fillet of salmon, saffron potato, quinoa, barley, and white crab and avocado mousse, or pistachio-crusted tofu with a prickly pear sauce. All these dishes that you had spent so long carefully choosing to make sure everyone had something delicious they could eat you could barely even manage to taste because everyone wanted to talk to you, or see your ring or take your photo. Not to mention that queasy feeling never quite let up.

After dinner speeches were made, first your dad telling stories of you and Tony as kids and repeating how proud he is of you. Then your bridesmaid talking about the fate that led the two of you to be together now.

Then Owen got up. “He-hello.” He said, the nerves showing in the shake of his voice. “My name is Owen. I grew up with just my mom. She’s a really good mom, but I did always have a hope that one day I’d get to meet my dad. One day, by complete accident, I did. I didn’t expect he’d be Iron Man though. He started out by being a really good dad. Then he was a really good boyfriend to my mom. She is much happier and more chill with him around. So I’m sure he’ll be a really good husband too. I love you both so much. So cheers to my mom and dad.”

Everyone applauded and glasses were raised. Owen returned to his seat and you hugged him tightly and kissed the top of his head while Tony wrapped his arms around the both of you.

Rhodey got up to speak next and he smirked at Tony. “Well, I bet none of you expected this to happen right?” He said, making everyone laugh. “I know I didn’t. I met Tony back in college. He was only 15 then, and already completely out of control. I remember thinking there was no way this kid was making it to thirty. The longer I knew him the more sure I was that would be the case. But he did. I also assumed he’d just continue being a playboy until he died. My very own Hugh Hefner. He’s been through a lot of changes though. He’s nearly died more times than I’d like to admit. He started to settle. To figure out who he is and what he wants with his life.

“I never really believed in fate, but there seemed to be something going on with the way these two people had their lives come together. If they hadn’t known each other as kids, they might not have had the little tryst that brought Owen here into the world. But the tryst had to happen while Tony was still his unsettled self. Owen had to be kept a secret though or they definitely wouldn’t have had a great relationship. They met back up at the time Tony had begun to settle which was the perfect time. He was able to step up to be the dad he needed to be. He was able to open his heart up to be the partner he needed to be.

“And now, here we are. At Tony Stark’s wedding. Not drunk at Vegas but planned ahead to this woman who he loves and who kept coming into his life at the perfect times. They were destined to be.” Rhodey turned and looked directly at you. “He is better with you. Happier. More at peace. All the things you might have put down as mistakes or chance, they were meant to happen. I’m glad he has you.” He turned back to the crowd. “So raise a glass to the happy couple.”

There was a cheer of the ‘happy couple and everyone sipped their drinks. Tony got up and hugged Rhodey before taking the microphone for himself.

“First of all, I’d like to thank you all for traveling this far to be with us. I mean, I know I paid, so free private island holiday, but still, it really means the world to both of us.” He said, making your guests laugh. “I grew up not really knowing what it felt like to be part of a loving family. So instead I modeled myself after my father. I drank too hard and I worked too hard. But I told myself that I wouldn’t inflict myself on anyone else for too long because that wouldn’t be fair to anyone.

“It’s funny how life doesn’t really give a shit about your plans. Turns out while I was trying to stop myself from ever forming any bonds with anyone I was making a pretty serious bond with someone. So instead of doing things in the typical everyday order where you meet, fall in love, get married, have a kid. Or doing things the way I envisioned, just a new conquest every day. I did them in the way that worked for me. I had the kid. I fell in love. And now, I am married to the women I have a son with. I finally have the family I didn’t think existed for me. It’s funny how you can not know how badly you needed something until you finally have it.”

He looked at you, his eyes full of love. “People always ask me if I was mad when I found out she’d hidden Owen from me. The answer is; of course, I was. Who wouldn’t be? The next question I usually get is how could I forgive that? That question is easily answered if you’ve ever met her. She is the most kind, brave, intelligent, amazing person I’ve ever met, and I’ve met a lot of kind, brave, intelligent and amazing people. A lot of you are here today. Falling in love with her was inevitable. It was like breathing. I am excited to call myself her husband. I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with her. So I’d like you all to raise your glasses for the crazy way life works and to my wife.”

He sat down as everyone toasted and you leaned in and kissed him deeply. Though your moment didn’t last long. You were called onto the floor for your first dance. The band started to play ‘Nothing Else Matters’ by Metallica and you and Tony start to move around the dance floor in the routine you’d been practicing for months now.

“You look beautiful, you know?” Tony said, gazing into your eyes.

“Thank you,” You said leaning in and brushing your lips over his just briefly. “Would you say I’m glowing?”

Tony opened his mouth to say something and then closed it again. You could actually see the wheels turning behind his eyes. “Are you…?”

You smirked at him and he spun you. “Pregnant?” You finished as you span back into his arms. “That’s right.”

“Honey…” He said, a smile spreading over his face. “Oh my god.” He pulled you into a hard kiss, the music completely forgotten. You both just stand there kissing. His hand on your cheek, yours clinging to his back. The beach might as well be empty except for the two of you. His lips slowly caress yours until they begin to go numb. When he pulls back his eyes are glistening with tears.

You reach up and brush one escapee from his cheek. “You’re such a softie, Stark.”

“Don’t make fun of me. I’m really happy.” He said as you start to dance again.

You nuzzled into his neck. “You think we’ll ever get pregnant because we planned to?”

Tony started laughing. “Who knows. Like I said, life doesn’t care about plans. But whatever happens, I’m loving every minute of it.”

~ END ~

#tony stark #tony stark x reader #iron man #iron man fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #reader insert #fluff #pregnancy #that kind you knew

273 notes · View notes

janiefoley · 4 years

Text

❀ *ﾟ sydney sweeney. female. she/her. ⇝ hey, isn’t that janie foley? i think that the twenty-one year old from miami, florida works as a stripper and sex worker, but outside of that they spend a lot of time at las vegas. i hear they are hedonistic + vulnerable, but they are also known to be charming + loyal. consider giving them a visit at their home in kingpin trailer park and get to know why they’re called the benevolent.

here’s my favorite softhearted disaster child. if you’re interested in plotting with janie, give this post a like or you’re more than welcome to hit me up via ims !

stats

full name: janie bambi foley

nicknames: n/a

height: 5′2

occupation: stripper / sex worker

date of birth: june 15th

zodiac: gemini

mbti: enfp

ennegram: type seven ( the enthusiast )

alignment: chaotic good

temperament: sanguine

positive traits: loyal, charming, playful, optimistic, genuine, energetic

negative traits: insecure, hedonistic, promiscuous, vulnerable, ditzy

biography

tw for mentions of abuse ( domestic and sexual )

okay so i’m not gonna lie to you guys: i’m a lil biased when it comes to janie. she’s easily one of my favorite muses i’ve ever created and i really hope you come to love her as much as i do. she has the biggest fucking heart and legit if she considers you to be a friend she’d probably fucking die for you ?? she comes from a very messed up home and i’ll get into all of that in a minute, but gOD she’s just so good at her core and doubts herself so much. like yeah, she’s messy and a little self-destructive and has hella commitment issues but i promise she really does try ? ANYWAY let’s get into her background a little bit.

so basically one of the main things you need to know about janie is that she grew up around trailer park trash, and lowkey is a little bit trashy herself. she’s an only child and her parents are... not great lmao. her dad ( floyd ) is the only person janie’s truly been afraid of in her entire life. yeah, she’s met scary people and of course felt fear towards them, but floyd’s the one person that makes her feel like a small child quaking in her shoes. he’s got his hands in a lot of bad shit and has deep connections, and he acts as a pimp to her mother. if you need a good example as to how scary floyd can be, i have this hc that when janie was around sixteen she tried to run away from home after a nasty fight with her parents. floyd caught her just as she was making it out to her car, and to really drive his point home that she wasn’t going anywhere, he slammed her wrist in the car door and fucking broke it. just like that. no remorse, no nothing. just told her to quit crying and get her ass back inside.

tammy, on the other hand, is a hot fucking mess. and i don’t mean that nicely. she met floyd when she was young and ran away from home to be with him. she’s never not some form of drunk or high, and she’s basically known as the town whore ?? like even in school, people knew about janie’s mom and she def was bullied for it. tammy and janie have a fucked up dynamic where her mother’s terrible to her, constantly telling her that she won’t amount to much and will end up just like her one day. she also has the tendency to try and sleep with janie’s boyfriends so yikes. she’s hella manipulative and can go from sweet to sour in a matter of minutes, which was super confusing for janie growing up.

but at the same time, she regularly leans on janie for almost everything and when she’s feeling loving, tammy can be very warm towards her and sometimes is the only thing standing between floyd nearly killing janie. it’s a very conflicting back and forth but ultimately, tammy makes janie feel inclined to stick around, because janie feels responsible for her and her overall well-being. she’s there to clean her up and tuck her in when she’s too wasted to do it herself, keep the trailer in one piece, and watch her mom’s back around the rougher johns. one of the biggest reasons janie’s afraid to walk away from prostitution and leave home is because she’s terrified something bad would happen to tammy and it’d be her fault.

because she was exposed to the reality that people will give you almost anything for sex at a very tender age, janie used her newfound knowledge with the neighborhood boys, offering them the best three minutes of their preteen lives in exchange for things like cash, booze, drugs, and occasionally when her family didn’t have it, food.

school was definitely something that was never easy for janie. kids are nasty, rumors were undoubtedly spread. people very much thought of her as ‘that kind of girl’, and while janie did make many attempts to be liked and accepted amongst her peers, most still ridiculed or mocked her, or took advantage of her desperate need to be liked. her grades also were... well, pretty below average tbh. her parents never put a big focus on school and because of her home life her attendance was poor at best. she didn’t have much help at home when it came down to homework and studies, and ended up graduating high school by the skin of her teeth. she DID take a whack at community college, but thanks to ridicule and lack of support from her parents, and her very minimal education she ended up dropping out only a few weeks into her second semester.

after dropping out of college, janie decided to capitalize on the one thing she’s good at: sex. when she’s not twirling underneath the neon lights of the local strip joint, she can be found turning tricks on a street corner or servicing clients out of her trailer.

bonus information

janie’s favorite color in the entire world is pink.

she also loves anything glittery and is almost always covered in it.

while she’s a hopeless romantic at heart, the girl’s got more commitment issues than common sense.

but she’s also a fan of matchmaking and would like to think that she’s pretty damn good at it.

dancing is a genuine passion of hers. if she’d been dealt a better hand, janie would most definitely be living in los angeles and auditioning for her dream gig as a backup dancer.

she loves drag queens and often attends local drag shows. and you probably guessed it: one of her favorite shows is definitely rupaul’s drag race.

wanted connections

once again, i’ll probably update this soon with a few loose ideas that i’d absolutely love to see, but i’ve got one more bio to crank out before i lose all motivation. if janie sparked your interest or you think you might have a connection she’d work for, go ahead and message me !!

#primmintro

6 notes · View notes

akaherosandwich · 5 years

Text

aka; for your eyes only

To say that Jess had just woken up would be a lie.

Yes, she was just now getting up in the middle of the night, but like most other nights, she’d spent half of the twilight hours closing her eyes and trying to get whatever sleep she could. The other half she spent staring alternately at Luke and at the wall as she contemplated whether to turn over again, to get up to go to the bathroom, or go sit on the couch and watch television, use her laptop, or do anything really to distract her from the fact that she couldn’t fall asleep. Sometimes the baby was awake with her, sometimes not.

To say that she’d just woken up would be a lie, but it’s a lie she told Luke often in the middle of the night as he was awoken by the sudden absence of her weight in bed. (And Jessica was still learning to share, as she was so accustomed to spreading her limbs in every direction.)

“It’s fine, I just have to pee. Go back to sleep,” she muttered as she sat up slowly. Jessica waited until Luke put his head back down on the pillow and mumbled something incoherent at her.

“Yeah, I know,” she whispered back as she lumbered out into the hall of their little townhouse apartment. Apart from the creak of wood beneath her feet, it was eerily quiet here.

Her eyes were well-adjusted to the darkness already, navigating her way to the kitchen, led by the glow of the digital clock face. Jessica somewhat clumsily opened the fridge and pulled out a carton of pulp-free lemonade (she’d been very specific about no pulp), taking a drink straight from the container. She left the container on the counter and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

“It’s always something with you, huh?” she muttered, head hung downward at her taut, rounded stomach. The baby was lazily active tonight, meaning Jessica was wide awake whether she wanted to be or not. “Is this practice? For when you’re here?” She drummed a few fingers on the side of her belly and then sighed. “Punishment for not having a third taco tonight? Punishment for having tacos in the first place? C’mon, work with me here.”

It was still difficult for Jessica to really personify the baby growing inside of her. Luke had no problem with it, on the other hand, making Jess secretly worry she was already failing as a mother. Was she not loving the kid enough? Luke had all of the sweetest words and the most gentle touches for the child, and by proxy, Jessica, when all she had was profanity and the occasional prodding at her swollen midsection. Mother of the year award, right there.

Jessica blinked at the glowing numbers on the clock. It was ass o’clock as far as she was concerned- she’d rather be asleep with Luke, making it awkward to try to spoon comfortably. But here she was. Should she be making an attempt to bond with the kid?

She left the lemonade open in the kitchen as she shuffled out to the couch. Her laptop was on the coffee table, so she lowered herself carefully and grabbed the device. Jess swung the screen open and winced at the brightness of it. After a moment to readjust, she moused around on her desktop for a bit, opening and closing her internet browser several times with disinterest. “Bonding time, right. Can’t wake Luke,” she mumbled, reluctantly opening her webcam app.

Jess dug her fingernails into the tape covering the laptop’s camera- a precaution she’d taken the day she brought the device home- and pulled off the paper covering protecting her from unwarranted hackers peeping through. She frowned almost immediately at her digitized reflection. “Ugh, Christ.” She ran her fingers through her hair but quickly gave up the effort. She turned on the dim lamp nearby and that was about as good as it was going to get.

Putting the laptop back on the table, she leaned forward and pressed the red recording circle, waiting for the timer to tick upwards while she stared blankly at the camera. Jessica opened her mouth, paused, and then closed her mouth again. “Ah, fuck,” she finally muttered. “Great start, huh? You’re not getting this video until you’re much older.”

She cleared her throat and tried to make eye contact with the small lens of the web camera. It was difficult- she looked like shit and honestly, Jessica didn’t know why she was doing this.

“Okay, clearly it’s late, and I’m not doing my best thinking,” she explained. Jessica defensively put her hands on her stomach. “But yeah, that’s you. In there- in here. Being an absolute little shit-kicker and keeping me up til three in the morning. But you’re up too, so I figure... this is our time together. Luke- your dad- is still asleep. So we’ll give him that.”

Jess didn’t know why she felt so stupid- maybe it was because she was talking to her laptop in hopes that she’d say something profound for her baby when they eventually saw this video in 10+ years? Oh yeah, that’s why she felt stupid. But once she started talking, she couldn’t stop.

“I am... not ready to be your mom. Not in the slightest. But your dad? He’s been ready since the day we met. You know, he swears you’re a girl. Won’t let the doctors tell us, because he knows he’s right. Would put money down in Vegas on it,” she said, cracking a meek smile. “I know it sounds stupid, but... I had a dream the other night and I saw you. You’re definitely our little girl. Don’t know if that was you reaching out to me, or just another ridiculous pregnancy dream. My hormones are outta control, so it could honestly be either. I mean, in fairness, I had a really crazy dream about Daniel Dae Kim the other night...”

She shook her head.

“Never mind. Anyways. A daughter. That’s... well, it’s terrifying. The world isn’t a nice place to little girls, but if Luke and I do our jobs right, you’ll never know it. You’ve got the two toughest parents on this planet. Your daddy’s a superhero, and I’m... Well, your momma’s doing what she can. To put things back in their place, make sure it’s safe.”

Jess shifted somewhat, compensating for a twinge in her back. “Look. I’ve been a lot of things, done a lot of things with my life. Lots of that was mistakes. Hell, I’m still going to make mistakes, I think that’s a given. But if you never have to know the things I’ve been through, then maybe I’m doing something right,” she explained.

“But you.. we don’t have a name for you yet, so I’m doing my best here. You, above anything else in my life... You were my choice. And trust me, I had a choice. Quite a few. Being a coward sounded like the easiest one. But you are the first thing in my life I got to choose for myself. I mean, I chose your dad too, but that whole situation was a bit of a mess there... We’re good now, though. Don’t worry. Obviously we are, or else I wouldn’t be here doing this.”

Jessica cleared her throat. This would have been much easier with a drink to loosen her tongue. But that was another choice she was making, to make this thing work. “Anyways. You. My daughter. My special choice. It still doesn’t feel real yet- I mean, you feel real. Right on top of my bladder, that’s definitely real, and if you kick me and we have an accident then I’m just deleting this whole tape right now, so just give me this,” she warned. “I’ve always said that knowing something is real means you gotta make a decision. One, keep denying it. Or two... do something about it. That’s you. You’re that something.”

She leaned back a bit and lifted her shirt to expose her stomach. Jessica hoped that the low, rolling kicks across her abdomen could be picked up in the dim light. “Look, baby girl. It’s pretty obvious I’m not good at this whole talking thing, and I’m tired as hell and kinda losing this wave of focus. Just another joy of this choice I made. But I don’t regret it, not for a moment. You’re the choice I made and I’m sticking with it. I promise, I’m going to do everything I can to protect you. To give you the good things you deserve. Not everyone gets that, but I’m going to try. And so’s your dad. And your aunts, Carol and Trish. My best friends. And then there’s uncle Danny and uncle Matt- I didn’t run that one by them, but I can’t imagine they’d say no,” she shrugged.

“All I can say is that you’re loved, baby girl. And you’re not alone, ‘kay? I will drop everything for you, always. Because above anything and anyone else, you’re my choice.”

Jessica paused, trying to process those last words. They felt like the right thing to say- because they were true. But at 3am, it felt a little weird to say those things out loud in the dark. Jess wished someone had said those things to her, y’know, before she got left alone and orphaned. But now... she wasn’t alone either.

“Ah, fuck,” she said, wiping her nose with the back of her hand as she turned off the recording. Jess could feel salty tears pricking up in the corners of her eyes. “This is your fault,” she hissed down at her stomach. The woman dimmed the lamp again and the waddled back into the kitchen for more lemonade for her dry, warm throat. In one of the kitchen drawers, she found a roll of tape and a thumb drive.

Before returning to bed, Jessica downloaded the video, put it in an envelope that she marked “Baby Girl” and stuffed in the back of the utility drawer. She then taped back over the webcam and hastily deleted the file from her laptop. Luke’s voice came from the bedroom softly at first, then again louder.

“Babe? Did you fall in?”

“Shut up,” she mumbled back. “I’ll be back in a minute. It’s not like I’m the one who chose to be awake at this ungodly hour.” Jess rubbed a gentle circle around her stomach.

“Isn’t that right, baby girl?”

#foundoutthehardway #big stupid oneshot of jessica having baby feels

5 notes · View notes

mysterylover123 · 6 years

Text

My Top 10 Favorite Series of All Time

Mysterylover123, to my followers.

This list, of course, could change. At some point in the future, I could always discover a new series that topples the competition - but for the moment, here they are. My top 10 favorite series of all time - mostly comics or television, but also film, and a few novel series made the honorable mentions list.

Of course, these are all just my personal favorites - that’s the key word. While I did consider objective quality when making the call, I mostly went with my gut and listed series I love for whatever reason - maybe sentimental value, pushing my personal buttons, or just characters I adored. I also made myself list the things I don’t like about the series as well, just to avoid gushing too much and remember that all but one (my #1) series out there are at least, a little, flawed, but nonetheless still lovable. With that in mind, here they are:

#10. CSI: Crime Scene Investigation (2000-2015)

Type: Live-Action TV show

Genre: Crime/Mystery; forensic drama, police procedural

Favorite character: Catherine Willows (Marg Helgenberger)

Favorite episode: “Grave Danger”, Parts 1 & 2 (Season 5 finale)

Favorite Season: 7

Favorite villain: The Miniature Killer/Natalie Davis

Bad points: Weak later seasons, forced romance subplot, copious amounts of filler

Why it’s here: CSI is nostalgic for me. I watched it during my early crime drama loving years, and found out that as much as I liked the premise, what made the show for me was the cast. That was the first time I realized how essential characters are to creating intriguing drama. CSI is still my favorite traditional crime/mystery show, since in seasons 1-8, it maintained a good balance of character drama and mystery-of-the-week. Season 7 is a high point, balancing an ongoing story with lots of fun one-offs and an emotionally explosive payoff. Later seasons, however, wear down the show’s quality for me. Too many beloved characters left and the series becomes too reliant on filler, ending with a thud that is the series finale. But the best of CSI is still enough to land it here for me.

(Just to clarify, I mean Las Vegas)

#9. Futurama (1999-2003; 2008-2013)

Type: Animated TV Show + movies

Genre: Sci Fi Dramedy

Favorite character: Philip J Fry (Billy West)

Favorite episode: “Jurassic Bark”

Favorite season: 4

Favorite villain: Bender

Bad points: Sexism, weak later seasons, bad 2nd movie

Why it’s here: Futurama came to me during a phase of depression in my life, and the show’s combination of humor and cry-your-eyes out tragedy kept me going. I’ve seen it through five times, and it’s always a blast. To me, Futurama is better than The Simpsons. Simpsons is funnier, but only for seven years or so. Following those seven years are 21 of mediocrity, whereas Futurama thankfully cuts it short. While some of the later seasons are weaker than the early Fox years, they still have quality gems and the show’s unique flavor. The series speaks to me so much; it’s a mix of hilarious comedy, serious character drama, and high sci-fi concepts that all mesh together in a unique experience. This is a series that’s not afraid to try new things, to experiment and let the characters age and grow. My personal favorite part of the series is the friendship between the core trio, Fry, Bender and Leela. Any episode starring them is a-ok by me.

Favorite memories: Binge-watching the series during a period of unemployment.

#8. Death Note (2003-2004; 2006-2007)

Type of series: Manga/Anime

Genre: Supernatural Crime Thriller

Favorite Character: L Lawliet (Alessandro Juliani)

Favorite Episode: Episode 2, “Confrontation”

Favorite Arc: The first one

Favorite villain: Light Yagami (Brad Swaile)

Bad points: Weak second half, so-so character development

Why it’s here: Death Note is a dark, twisted, engrossing thriller, which under normal circumstances shouldn’t be re-watchable. But I keep coming back to it, regardless of how many times I’ve seen it before. It’s a digestible 37 episodes and 108 chapters, for one thing. It introduced me to two characters that endlessly fascinate and frustrate my analytical brain. The antagonists, Light and L, are two of the most brilliant characters I’ve come across in fiction, and their dynamic with each other is endlessly engaging. Well, it should have been through the whole series…if not for certain incidents. But no matter; we have what we have. Flawed, yes. Terrifying, certainly. Death Note scares me like no other story. But what frightens me in DN isn’t so much there gruesome deaths, but how effortlessly it portrays the banality of evil.

Favorite memories: Watching the show during the winter holidays while on vacation, and contemplating the series during the drive home.

#7. Spider-Man (1962-)

Type: Comic book; various mediums of adaptation

Genre: Superhero

Favorite character: Mary Jane Watson

Favorite Storyline: The Night Gwen Stacy Died, #121-122

Favorite villain: The Green Goblin

Bad points: Weak later issues, lots of filler, “One More Day”

Why it’s here: Spidey is still my favorite superhero. He was me in high school (I got into Spider-Man in high school, incidentally), the everyman, the representation of my nerdy outcast struggle and need to both escapism and greater responsibility. But what really drew me to the comic, and still does, was the vast and multifaceted supporting cast. In the great eras of Spidey (Ditko, Romita, Conway, and late 1980s), the supporting cast make the series. Whether it’s Peter’s various complex lady loves, the endless cavalcade of memorable villains, supporting dude-friends like Flash and Harry or my personal favorite, mainstay Mary Jane “you just hit the jackpot” Watson, the cast of Spidey was majorly influential with good reason. The series loses it’s skill in the 1990s, thanks to the Clone Saga and general 90s comic badness, and plummets into an irretrievable black hole in 2007, never to return. But fortunately, there’s still thirty years’ worthy of fascinating comics to draw from before that insanity begins. And those stories have in turn fed fantastic adaptations, whether it be the sentimental 90s animated show, a few of the films, or the superlative Spectacular cartoon.

Favorite memories: Reading Spider-Man comics after high school, while waiting to get picked up. Also, watching the 90s show as a little kid, even if those are kinda dim.

#6. Gravity Falls (2012-2016)

Type of series: Animated TV Show

Genre: Supernatural

Favorite character: Mabel Pines (Kirsten Schaal)

Favorite season: 2

Favorite episode: “Not What he Seems”

Favorite Villain: Bill Cipher

Bad points: A few filler episodes, some odd messages, so-so ending

Why it’s here: I love a good spooky story. Gravity Falls caught my attention around Halloween in 2016, 8 months after the series finale; I binged the whole series through in a weekend. The series remains one of the all-time best I’ve ever watched. With one or two exceptions, there are no outright bad episodes. Everything is either entertaining or incredibly entertaining. The characters feel real, the messages really hit home, and the creativity on display is astounding. Gravity Falls has something in every corner - great character development, compelling drama, laugh-out-loud comedy, and a truly engaging mystery that doesn’t disappoint. I wish the franchise ran a little longer, but I’ll give it props that unlike nearly every other show on this list, Gravity Falls doesn’t over-stay its welcome. Two seasons of brilliance, wrapping up with a strong, though not perfect, finale, before the series had a chance to go on too long or burn out the creators. It’s a welcome treat to watch again, and again, and again. It’s mostly low on this list, not because of the few weak points, but because I don’t have as much emotional attachment to the series as I do to my top 5 pics.

Favorite memories: Watching the show with my dad and brother on vacation. Both of them are very surly and nit-picky, so presenting them with a show this good meant no cause to complain.

#5. Frasier (1993-2004)

Type: Live Action TV series

Genre: Sitcom

Favorite character: Niles Crane (David Hyde-Pierce)

Favorite season: 4

Favorite episode: “Something Borrowed, Something Blue”

Bad points: Weaker later/early seasons, sometimes annoying

Why it’s here: Frasier has a record for the most Emmy awards won by a single show. And rightly so, in my opinion. This is one of those series with astonishingly top-notch writing all around. It’s a sitcom that banks it’s humor on taking down pretentious snobs and prejudiced jerks; the jokes stay funny because, like all good humor, they stay relevant. This series feels kind of timeless; despite coming out in the instantly dated 90s, the characters’ fashions, mindsets, and relationships feel like they could be written today or twenty-forty years earlier. My heart belongs to the series’ ongoing love story between uptight, snippy Niles and eccentric, lovable Daphne (Jane Leeves). I have yet to see a better executed TV romance, one that pulls out all the stops like this one does. If I were to compare Frasier to anything, it would be to a Jane Austen novel. It has the same social satire, the same sardonic humor, the same understanding of romance and human psychology. That, to me, is what makes a great comedy.

Favorite memories: Discovering Frasier out of Sideshow Bob on The Simpsons - and coming to realize which of the two is truly the better comedy. (Sorry to take another potshot at Simpsons; I do like the early seasons, I just think the show is overrated).

#4. The Marvel Cinematic Universe (2008-)

Series type: Live Action films and TV

Genre: Superhero

Favorite characters: Tie: Steve Rogers (Chris Evans) and Loki (Tom Hiddleston)

Favorite film: Captain America the Winter Soldier (2014)

Favorite phase: Phase 3 (so far)

Bad points: Occasional weak/so-so film, lack of representation

Why it’s here: I first watched only a handful of MCU films; after Avengers, I gave it up and focused on other things. I loved it the first time, but when I came back and screened every picture in the lineup till the present, that is when I fell in love with the franchise. I was missing out on some of the series’ best characters. And that’s what makes the MCU special to so many people: the characterization. The series is at it’s best when it’s giving it’s multi-layered cast focus and development. Marvel comics have always been a favorite of mine, so naturally their best known adaptation is one of my favorites in general. I’ve found something to enjoy in just about every film in the franchise. The biggest surprise hit for me was the Captain America films - a part of the franchise I never dreamed I’d love, but which won me over with the stellar writing in the 2011 film, the indelible Winter Soldier, and the stunning, heartbreaking Civil War. I’m almost afraid of what will come next, as the franchise is heading towards a finale.

Favorite memories: Watching the films over a long, bitter summer, as my only source of joy while working a thankless job and living in a place with bad internet reception.

#3. The Buffy-verse (1997-2004) Series Buffy the Vampire Slayer & Angel

Type of series: Live-Action TV shows

Genre: Supernatural

Favorite characters: Buffy, Cordelia, and Spike

Favorite season: Season 5 of Buffy, Season 2 of Angel

Favorite episodes: “Once More with Feeling” Buffy, “You’re Welcome” Angel

Bad points: Weak later seasons, Season 6, some bad filler

Why it’s here: If I was going on sentimental fandom value alone, the Buffy-verse would be number one. I still squee over this franchise years after I first discovered it; the characters have that special Joss Whedon flair that makes them stand out over the crowd, the series’ core relationships are so fascinating I’m tempted to write fanfic about them, and the philosophies and emotional moments in the series have shaped my life. I would never have known what existentialism was, for instance, if not for Whedon’s show. Angel’s line about “ all that matters is what we do” has helped motivate me ever since I heard it. But looking at the series’ quality (and diversity), I will admit that out of my top 3 favorites, it has the most problems. Both shows have one season I can cheerfully proclaim to be outright terrible, (Season 4 for Angel, Season 6 for Buffy), and very shaky first seasons that take a while to find their feet. There are some plot decisions I just can’t forgive, and some truly weak arc villains. But there is also so much that this franchise does so well, whether it be stellar standalones, bold plot moves, and of course, the character arcs.

Favorite memories: Rewatching the show on vacation in France.

#2. Avatar: The Last Airbender (2005-2008)

Type: Animated TV series

Genre: Fantasy Steampunk

Favorite characters: Zuko, Azula and Sokka

Favorite season: 2

Favorite episode: “The Guru”

Bad points: Forced romantic subplots, The Great Divide, odd conclusion

Why it’s here: You may have heard, if you’ve spent any time on the internet, what a fantastic series ATLA is. I try to avoid such phrases when attempting to sell the show to people, because describing a series that way is usually a bad move. But rest assured, it’s warranted. Avatar The Last Airbender is a stellar show in every possible way. Aside from the few bad points I mentioned above, ATLA does everything right. It has the best world building I’ve ever encountered. The animation, storytelling, emotions, messages (sometimes), plot points, philosophies, individual episodes, comedy, drama, action, epic sweep, surprise reveals…(several hours of listing things later) all of these things are pitch perfect. But as always, what makes this show is the cast. My lord, what a cast. These characters are so embedded in my mind, their arcs, personalities, development and entertainment value all stand out a cut above the rest. ATLA is a stunning masterpiece, one that no adaptation could capture, and that even it’s own creators have yet to follow up on, with either the sequel or the comics. But no matter. The original is there, it always will be, and more people discover it every day.

Favorite memories: Nothing quite compares to seeing ATLA for the first time. I saw it in 2014, one of the worst years of my life. Once again, my miserable experience was improved by a fantastic story.

Before #1: The Runners-up.

Game of Thrones: I used to adore GOT, but it started losing me after season 3; I lost respect for the show in season 5. still, those early seasons are still crucial parts of our culture and should be remembered.

Harry Potter: I grew up with these books and I still enjoy parts of them; overall, however, they strike me as being just a little less than they could have been.

Percy Jackson: I binged through the whole first book in a few hours, and loved these novels as a teen. As an adult, they don’t hold up as well, but I still appreciate the things they do right.

The Legend of Korra: The sequel to ATLA is spotty in many ways, but contains enough moments I absolutely love to make it at least a runner up.

South Park: Another series that got me through a bad time in my life and helped me deal with certain aspects of myself (especially episode 1507.) However, the early and late seasons are pretty bad, and the show doesn’t age very well.

Neon Genesis Evangelion: A bizarre little anime that nonetheless really stands out to me for how crazy it gets and how unique the story is.

Hannibal: A guilty pleasure - definitely a show that gets too far up it’s own butt in later episodes, but nonetehless appealing and interesting in the subjects it’s willing to tackle.

Parks and Recreation: My other favorite TV sitcom besides Fraser - it’s a strong runner up for the list but not quite sentimental enough.

Steven Universe: 3 great seasons, followed by a lot of recent mediocrity. Great when it’s great, bad when it’s not.

Code Geass: an immensely ambitious series, that doesn’t quite realize it’s goals but god damn if it isn’t a beautiful try.

Daria: Another show that really spoke to me in high school

Firefly: This was the biggest runner-up for the list. Firefly is 14 amazing episodes of television cut short too soon, giving us amazing characters and great world building in a short amount of time. The series has some bits that haven’t aged well, and those were enough to keep it off my top 10.

And now, the moment you’ve all been waiting for…

#1. Fullmetal Alchemist Brotherhood (manga: 2001-2010, anime 2009-2010)

Series type: Anime/Manga

Genre: Sci Fi (I think)

Favorite character: Edward Elric

Favorite episodes: “Flame of Vengeance”; “Backs in the Distance”

Bad points: None

Why it’s here: I’m gonna be brutally honest: FMAB is here because I can’t find anything wrong with it. It is, without question, the single most perfect piece of fiction I’ve ever come across. It almost frightened me when I first finished the series. Surely there must be some major, glaring flaw, some bad installment or weak character, that I could point to and say Look! Here’s the flaw! This was made by human hands after all! But nope. Many, many rereads through, and I still haven’t found one. FMAB stands supreme. This series has everything. The most fleshed out and real-feeling cast of characters I’ve ever come across (even minor background characters have spectacular arcs and feel like real people). The best pacing and plotting of an overall story arc. The best world building, aside from ATLA. The best exploration of social issues, the best feminism, the best use of mature storytelling. Everything comes back around. The themes, the mystery, the overall tone and story structure. I feel like an engineer gushing over the most perfectly calibrated car ever made each time I watch it. But Fullmetal is even more than just expertly made. It’s appealing. It’s popular. It’s the kind of story you can write essays on or write fanfic for. FMAB can be enjoyed in every capacity. I recommend taking the time to read the Manga first (that’s what I did), then watch Brotherhood. There really is nothing quite like FMAB. (oh, BTW, it has the best series finale of anything e ver. Period.)

Best memories: Watching Fullmetal while coping with death for the first time in my life. There is no better series when it comes to dealing with this subject.

#top ten list #CSI: Crime Scene Investigation #tv show #futurama #Death Note #L Lawliet #spiderman #gravity falls #frasier #marvel cinematic universe #Buffyverse #Avatar The Last Airbender #Fullmetal Alchemist

16 notes · View notes

exxar1 · 4 years

Text

Episode 1: A New Beginning

9/23/2020

2020 has been, to put it mildly, an eventful year thus far. A global pandemic, social and civil unrest, and a national election in 6 weeks. America has been thrust into a crucible, and, if you’re like me, you’ve stood at your front door, staring out at the world with a mixture of astonishment, befuddlement, anxiety, and, at times, quiet fear. Every morning has brought news headlines worse than the day before. Since mid-March, it has felt to most of us as if the entire world was flipped upside down and turned inside out. Where daily life was once an ordinary, comfortable routine, it has now taken on the feeling of a long, terrifying roller coaster ride: lengthy, nervous pauses followed by heart-stopping, terror-filled drops, and we never know at each sundown what the next sunrise will bring.

For me, personally, the last six months have been all of that – and more. No, thank God, I did not lose my job. Ever since moving to Las Vegas in 2012, I have had a successful career at a payday loan company. For the last eight years I have done well for myself, attaining the rank of assistant manager and making more than enough money to not only meet my needs but also put some away for the future. I’m still single with no children to support, so I have always been a workaholic; not so much that I burn myself out and have no social life, but neither do I believe in stopping at just 40 hours a week when I’m still young and capable enough to go for at least 60 or 65 on a good week. The last 8 years have been incredibly rewarding for me, and I’ve been very happy with my decision to relocate to Las Vegas.

But then, in mid-March of this year, my luxurious comfort zone was abruptly – suddenly – shattered. The Nevada governor declared a statewide shutdown of all non-essential businesses and a forced quarantine of non-essential workers. My job remained intact due to our status as a financial services company, but because all the casinos, restaurants, and most of the other businesses on the Las Vegas strip were abruptly shut down, most of my job’s customer base was suddenly unemployed. As a result, our company had to adjust accordingly. We have 26 stores in Las Vegas and Henderson, four of them operating 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. One of the reasons I was making so much money was because I could pick up overtime shifts at other stores. As soon as the statewide shutdown and quarantine went into effect, our company was forced to cut back store hours, lay off some employees, and cancel all overtime. Other perks such as quarterly bonuses were also canceled along with annual raises. All of this caused a sudden and immediate drop in my monthly income that I was not ready for.

Something you should know about me is that I am a type “A” personality. That means that I prefer schedules, planning, and as much preparation as possible for anything and everything. I live my life by a clock and lists. There’s no such thing as spontaneity or lollygagging. We workaholics believe time is money, and even on our days off we never really relax. We’re using that precious little free time to get the household chores done and prepare for the busy week ahead. Even when I watch TV I’m multitasking – usually doing the crossword or playing a game on my phone or Nintendo Switch. Type “A” people need to know exactly what’s coming and we usually plan not just for tomorrow or the week ahead or even the month ahead. We plan for at least 3 months ahead, and we freak out if anything unexpected pops up to ruin our best laid plans.

Now, of course, we all know that daily life is full of little surprises and upsets. But, if we’ve planned and prepped well, then we’re not entirely thrown out of whack by life’s minor emergencies. Flat tire on the expressway? No problem. We have great auto insurance, and there’s plenty in savings to cover a new tire and time lost in wages for missing that day’s work. Wake up with my throat feeling a little scratchy and nose stuffed? No problem! Grab that emergency bag of tea bags and cough drops from the bathroom medicine cabinet on my way out the door to work. Type “A” folks are what keep the world running smooth and on time. We’d control the timing of the sunrise and sunset if it were possible.

So, you can see why the economic shutdown of 2020 threw a massive and wholly detestable wrench into my comfortable, orderly life. I say this with a dryly humorous tone, but it was no joke. I had to scramble to rearrange my finances, but my monthly bills depended on a specific amount to make all ends meet, and I was suddenly going to be very short. The future, which had once seemed so bright and certain, was now dark and unknown, and I could no longer plan for even one week ahead, let alone three months. Yes, there was some relief in the form of the economic impact payments from the government as well as a one-time withdrawal allowed by my 401K. But always, in the back of my mind, there was the nagging worry about what would come after that extra money ran out. If the statewide shutdown wasn’t lifted, if my job didn’t allow me to work overtime, and if I hadn’t found a second job by then, what would I do? This is where it began to feel as if I was on a roller coaster. There were days when I felt good, when I forced myself to not worry about the future and live in the present, and I focused on my work. And, because I had so much free time now that I was working only 35 or 38 hours a week, I used the opportunity to catch up on my reading list as well as my writing. (I also watched more TV and movies in two months than I had in my entire life to that point.)

But then there were sleepless nights where all I could do was toss and turn and worry. April dragged into May, May slowly turned into June, and the news headlines just got worse and worse. George Floyd was killed by police in Minneapolis in late May, and suddenly the nation was erupting with violent and frightening civil unrest. Portland, Chicago, Seattle, New York – and even Las Vegas – saw marches, protests, demonstrations, and none of them were peaceful. Social media was flooded with black squares and “Black Lives Matter” posts, and now we didn’t have just a global pandemic to worry about. For me, personally, it wasn’t my own financial future that had suddenly become uncertain. The future of the nation which I have called home for my whole life was unexpectedly called into question.

Life had turned upside down and inside out. My own anxiety and worry multiplied with each passing day, and I did my best to distract myself with writing, reading, binging old TV, and a brief vacation back home to Idaho. But always, in the darkest hour of the night, in the back of my mind all during the day, there was that steady, drumming fear: how much worse could things get? How much longer could we endure all of this? What in the world would happen next? I began to suffer periods of genuine depression. It took everything I had to force a smile on my face and pretend at work that everything was fine. Inside, I was falling apart.

In the first week of July I landed a second job at Walmart. My financial future suddenly became a lot more certain, and there was some genuine relief in that. But the violence, the unrest, and politics of the world around me continued to be a major source of worry and anxiety. It wasn’t just my daily life – job, home, friends, local government – that needed to be orderly, calm and predictable. I needed the world at large to also be certain, ordered and organized. I needed to know that my basic freedoms that I had taken for granted my entire life were not going to suddenly disappear. In just a span of a few weeks, the American dream that I had been living for 42 years was rapidly disappearing in a rising tide of ideological dogma that was gaining a foothold in every American institution with alarming speed. For the first time in my life I was witnessing the stuff that I had only read about in sci-fi novels such as 1984. All I could think was, What if the democrats win this election? What if the police really are defunded? Could America really devolve into a true socialist state? What if the worst-case scenario really happens?

And that is what finally brought me to what I can only describe is a mid-life spiritual crisis. I throw the word “spiritual” in there for good reason. I’m an atheist, you see. I was raised in the Baptist church, but I walked away from the church and all religion in my senior year of high school because I couldn’t reconcile the fact that I’m gay with what the Bible teaches about that particularly heinous sin. The only way I could live a successful, happy life was to be myself. I have always been out and proud, and I had no room for any religion that would call me a sinner and claim that my soul was damned because of my lifestyle “choice”. (More detail on this in a later post.) I’ve been on my own for 23 years now, and I’ve been just fine. I decided a long time ago that God doesn’t exist. He’s a figment of man’s overactive imagination, a crutch for those too weak to face life on their own. I have never needed such a crutch, and, until this year, I was doing just dandy living my own life and my truth.

My job at Walmart is to stand outside the front entrance and, per the new health mandates from the state governor, ensure that everyone entering the store is wearing their mask. Those who aren’t and who don’t have a valid reason for not wearing one – such as a medical exclusion – cannot go in. This means that I’m paid $11/hour to do basically nothing. I stand outside by myself, greeting the customers, and doing a LOT of thinking. For the last few weeks I have thought about everything happening just beyond my front doorstep. I’ve thought about the future of my nation, as well as the future of my own soul. I have silently questioned all of the beliefs and convictions that were once so certain. I have wrestled with my ego and my intellect, confused and angry with the fact that I was so certain of many things in my youth, yet now I am so unsure and afraid. My parents say that God is in control. Yet I see no evidence that God – or anyone – is in control. The world has lost its collective mind, and America, in particular, is on a fast track to chaos and anarchy. IF God really is out there, why is he allowing any of this to go on?

One of the fundamental changes that occurred as a result of this soul-searching was my decision to switch political parties. For the last 20 years or so I have been a staunch democrat. I have had no use for the conservative views of the republican party. I’m gay, after all, and I proudly supported all the progressive movements over the last two decades that eventually culminated in 2015 with the nationwide legalization of gay marriage. I also believed that no one other than the police, the military and government agents needed to own a gun. I was also pro-choice. But I have never been much interested in politics. Until 2012 I had never even voted. My reasoning for this was a combination of laziness and apathy. No matter which political party won the election, my life never changed. The world went on every day as it always had since before I was born, and besides, thanks to the electoral college, the majority vote doesn’t always mean a win. Therefore, I reasoned, my one vote didn’t really matter unless I was in a swing state. And since Nevada is a blue state, and since I was a democrat, I knew which candidate would get my state’s vote every time, no matter what. (The only reason I voted in the 2012 national election was because I wanted Obama to have a second term just to piss off my conservative family and friends; and I was bored that afternoon after work.)

But then, in the wake of George Floyd’s death in late May, as the Black Lives Matter movement began a newly rapid ascension in almost every aspect and institution of American life, I began to do a lot of reading online during my lunch breaks and days off. Later, in July and August, as the national election campaigns kicked into full gear, I read even more news from both sides of the biases on the candidates, their views, and their platforms. In particular, I started subscribing to The Daily Wire and The Federalist. As time went on, as I read more and more opinions and news, and as I spent my days in front of Walmart in the Las Vegas heat, I started to ruminate on everything happening in the headlines as well as the ideological war going on behind the scenes in daily American life. I also began to wrestle with my own beliefs and convictions.

There was no specific time and day for my change of heart. I do know it was somewhere in late July that I decided I was no longer a democrat. I was going to vote all republican in November, and I was now a proud supporter of Donald Trump. But this was only the start of my mid-life spiritual crisis. I realized in early August that I wasn’t just a republican. All of my fear and anxieties about the civil unrest, the economic shutdowns due the pandemic, the war over whether or not mandated masks and social distancing were, in fact, the first step in many that would end with all Americans under a socialist dictatorship after November 3rd, the national debates about critical race theory and “white fragility”, the numbers of Americans on forced unemployment with no hope in the near future of any economic relief, the conflicting reports in the media surrounding everything to do with COVID-19 – all of it was just becoming too much to bear. It seemed that there was too much happening at once, every day, for me – or any of us ordinary citizens – to keep track of, let alone properly digest and analyze. By the end of the summer, as every state was debating whether or not to re-open public schools for the fall semester, it appeared to me as if everyone was close to their breaking point. My time spent every day in front of Walmart gave me plenty of firsthand evidence of just how frayed the nerves of all Americans had become. Everyone seemed on edge, yelling at one another because someone wasn’t wearing a mask, or someone else was wearing a “Trump 2020” t-shirt, or a black man cursing at the white store security officer, calling her a racist, because she was kicking him out for shoplifting. Tempers were short, nerves were frayed (including mine), and I – like so many others – started wondering: Just how bad things could really get?

In other words, it seemed to me as if the entire world around me had lost its fucking mind.

It was around the end of August that my worry finally turned into genuine fear. In the last few weeks, I have to come realize that America’s future as a democratic republic is not as sure as it’s been these last two centuries. My mind started to spin with all the “What if?” scenarios. What if Biden wins the election? What if the police force everywhere – not just cities like Portland, Minneapolis, Seattle and New York – really are defunded and scaled back? What if all the chaos caused by the unchecked rioting in those cities spreads to other cities and states? What if this pandemic doesn’t end soon? What if all this “white fragility”, “critical race theory”, and BLM nonsense actually gains traction in the worst possible place: the white house? What if? What if? What if? (Remember, I’m type “A” all the way!)

And now, the present; my reason for putting all this down on electronic paper. I came to a decision about a week ago that I was tired. No, scratch that. Fucking exhausted is more like it. I realized that, for the last six months, I have been trying to digest, analyze, categorize, rationalize, and compartmentalize everything that’s been happening around me so that I can sleep peacefully at night. I’ve been trying to make sense of all of this in order to calm myself and stop worrying. This has always worked before, but not this time. I realized that everything I had put my faith in for the last 23 years – my own reason and intellect, the ordered certainty of the world around me, the calm predictability of everyday life – had been wiped away in the span of six months. For the first time in my adult life, I felt truly helpless.

And that’s when I turned to the one thing that I had been ignoring for most of my life. For the last couple months, during my day shifts at Walmart, as I baked in the summer heat with no company other than my own thoughts, memories started to re-surface. Long forgotten memories, in fact. I began to wonder if maybe God really did, after all, exist. I remembered pieces of old sermons, fragments of Bible verses, lyrics from old songs of the Christian artists whose CDs I had long ago burned into iTunes. Some nights, as I drove home after finishing my late shift at my other job, physically and emotionally exhausted, I would pull up an old playlist on my phone and listen to Steven Curtis Chapman or Amy Grant or Michael W Smith. I have always enjoyed their music over the years as it reminds me of my youth and better times. Lately, however, it was reminding me of something else.

As I finish writing this, September 23, 2020, I am sure of two things:

1. I am saved. I accepted Jesus Christ into my heart in 1985 when I was 7 years old. I don’t remember exactly what time of day it was – or even the exact date – but I do remember it was after a SPARKS meeting. I believe without a shadow of a doubt that if I were to die this moment, I would be reunited in Heaven with both of my grandmothers, my grandfather, as well as others in my family who have passed on before. I believe that that prayer whispered by that seven-year-old boy those many years ago was genuine and heartfelt, and that it was uttered in sincere desire to have Jesus come into his heart. I have wandered far from grace in the decades since, but in just the last few days I have felt a peace and a calm deep in my soul that I have not felt for a very, very long time. God does not go back on His promises, and if we are sincere in our prayer for salvation, then I believe we are saved, no matter how far we might stray from Him afterwards.

2. I am gay. This right here was the main issue that I have been grappling with for the last couple months. I will go into this more in another post, but, put simply, I had been taught for all of my youth that homosexuality is a sin. It is an abomination against God, and the Bible clearly condemns it in several different passages. But I know that I am made in the image of God, and I know that I was born this way. There is no doubt in my mind about this. I knew as early as sixth grade that I was different, and, later, in high school, I came to realize what exactly that difference was. I now believe that God created me this way, and that I can still serve Him and His will without converting my sexuality. I don’t yet know exactly how or why I believe that with such conviction, but I do. Part of this new journey will be to understand and reconcile this conviction through reading, prayer, and other research.

My reason for creating this blog is twofold:

1. I have felt a need for some time now to get all of my thoughts and feelings down in black and white. Just writing this post alone has helped me clear my head from what has been piling up in my brain for the last six months. The act of writing helps me organize, digest, and analyze exactly what it is I need to understand about all of this.

2. And since I’m writing it all down, why not share it with the world? I know that I can’t be the only one who’s struggling to make sense of the world right now. Or, perhaps, there’s others out there, like me, who are trying to reconcile their belief in God with their sexual orientation? Or maybe they’re struggling with their own faith in some way in response to the chaos around us? Whatever the case, I want to be an inspiration for them, and I hope that this blog will help them in some way.

I don’t know where this journey will take me. For now, I am just re-reading my Bible, starting at the beginning in Genesis. I have the love and support of my family, and, as with everything else in this fucked up year, I – and God – are going to take this one day at a time.

Thank you for reading.

#Christian #gay #life #God

0 notes

mccall-appreciation · 7 years

Text

how beautiful it was to be anything at all.

word count: 4,222 warnings: none summary: Scott goes off to college to try and live a normal human life, and thinks about home and what it means to him. ao3 link: [ x ] a/n: under the cut.

a/n: okay i’m going to try and not ramble, but this is my sort of... goodbye fic, goodbye something to this beautiful sweet boy we have all grown to love and adore. scott is so special to me, and his friendship with stiles is precious to me, so this is a lot of sciles references but also a lot of pack references, and there’s some mentions of allison and even kira. i tried to add a little bit of everything i loved in this fic. i figured that at some point scott will go off to college, and this fic takes places when that happens. i hope you all enjoy it. and talk to me if you want after (if you do read it) and we can gush about scott or sciles or teen wolf or anything. this has no beta so all mistakes are mine, but thank you for following this blog, and for reading this story.

It’s a mountain top in Scotland, more specifically it’s called Arthur’s Seat. Their taxi driver had gotten them as close as he could get before letting them out. For two guys that often ran from danger walking up the hill to the mountain top seemed to be extremely strenuous, with ragged breathing and reaching out for the water bottle that the other was carrying. Other people were making the trek too knowing that it was about to rain on them any second. Scott had pushed Stiles’ butt repeatedly as a joke, but mainly because they needed to keep going.

“I think this is good here,” Stiles said, breathing heavily, squinting at the view before turning to Scott.

“Yeah, this is good,” Scott agreed, grabbing the water bottle and taking a drink of it, and then grabbing his phone to send pictures to his mom later. “Come here,” he said after snapping a few photos, Stiles had squished his face next to Scott and they had taken one serious photos and then a couple of silly ones and placed his phone back in his pocket.

The trip was last minute -- they had bought the tickets to London literally a week before and had no idea if their passports were even valid but they were committed. It was a last trip before Stiles going back to FBI school and Scott to college in the Sacramento area. There would be a distance between them again and the thought had terrified both of them but they hadn’t talked much about Scott going to school, and leaving Beacon Hills for good (or until they all inevitably headed back for the holidays).

Scott had sat down on the wet grass and Stiles followed with him, and both had looked out at the view. It was cloudy, you could see the neighbourhood surrounding the area but it looked like specks and then you could see the ocean. They were leaving tomorrow, having spent only a week in London, Scott making jokes about there being a werewolf in London, and Stiles pushing him while they crashed in a hotel airbnb and Stiles getting wasted while Scott carried him home. There last day would be spent here before heading back home tomorrow.

“Is it weird that I kind of don’t want to go home?” Stiles had started to pick at the grass beneath him. There was a strange feeling in Scott’s chest hearing it. The feeling had been there a while but he just didn’t want to deal with it. After everything the pack had been through, and finally having a moment to rest it felt like the beginning of a new chapter, but there were many nights where Scott would wake up in a panic, think if it was right for him to go to college, if it was the best choice. What would Beacon Hills do? What about Liam? The thought of changing out of his normal routine had terrified him, but he was so ready. He was so ready to feel a little normal again. He had to grow up so quickly it wasn’t fair to any of them in the pack who had just wanted to live a normal life -- and yet, they were trying.

They’d all be splitting up and going different directions. Some following others, and others staying in Beacon Hills. It was inevitable. Growing up.

“I don’t want to go home either.” Scott had placed a hand on Stiles’ shoulder, a gentle squeeze, a reminder that he too was scared of what they’d come back to. “I want to stay here for a while.” In this moment, with his best friend, looking out at an incredible view of Scotland. Here he didn’t worry about what would happen to him, there was no one attacking them, he almost felt his age.

“You know what’s one of my favourite memories?” Scott stretched his legs now, and Stiles shook his head.

“The summer you got your license. We had made these plans to like go across America, our first stop was going to be Vegas, obviously, because we were clearly old enough to gamble and drink, and then Arizona to watch the sunrise over the Grand Canyon.” They had gotten out a map and everything, marked places on the map with a sticker of where they were going to go. Just the two of them. The reality was they didn’t have money and their parents had thought that it wasn’t the best idea, instead Melissa ended up taking them to South Lake Tahoe and they camped out for a few days and made s’mores instead. They had gone skinny dipping one of those nights, Stiles had gotten bit in the ass from something in the water and ran quick out of the water and Scott hadn’t seen Stiles run that fast ever in his life. They could laugh about it now but at the time it seemed terrifying.

Stiles had thrown his head back and laughed, “Now look where we are.” They were a little bit older, had some saved money in the bank, and were heading off in directions with their life.

“That’s one of mine too.” Stiles had taken another drink of the water and then felt the first drop of rain on his pants.

“Change is scary,” Scott finally said.

“Yeah, it is.”

ii.

There’s a barbecue at Scott’s house the last day before everyone goes off their separate ways. The older adults are huddled together drinking beer, it’s rare to see Sheriff Stilinski without his uniform on but he looks relaxed, is Scott’s first thought. There’s a feeling in the air, for the first time in months he feels like he can actually breathe. He knows that deep down this is how it’s supposed to be the night before big changes, you’re supposed to be surrounded by the people that you love. Though there’s a few people missing. The one’s that couldn’t make it, due either to death or because they had already left, but it’s enough. This is enough for him.

His phone vibrates and he sees that it’s a text message from Derek.

Good luck Scott

He smiles down at it, he’ll answer it later. He doesn’t really feel like crying right now. Though he can feel it in the back of his throat, threatening to spill over.

There’s laughter in the air, happy tears because they’re laughing at something Liam had said that was meant to be serious but taken in a funny way because he doesn’t even realize it yet. Stiles cracks a joke at Liam who can’t help but look down and smile because he won’t admit but he’ll miss him too and all of his friends are leaving, and he knows that he’ll stay in touch but he’s scared too.

When Liam does look up Scott’s already staring at him and nods his head, because he was there once upon a time too. Scott has enough empathy to go around, and he has enough knowledge of pain to understand of what it was like to lose a group of people who mean a lot to you.

Malia holds Scott’s hand as they’re surrounded by the fire pit, taking turns with the s’mores. “I can’t remember the last time I had a s’more,” Malia says, there’s something in her pitch that makes Scott think that she’s probably thinking of her mom and sister, a memory that was a lifetime ago but savored as she takes her first bite. She leans against the boy and he strokes her shoulder.

“You’ll call me right?” Malia asks quietly.

Scott nods his head, “Of course.” Her plan was to go to the community college in Beacon Hills, maybe get a part time job somewhere, she had thought about volunteering at the animal shelter until she figured out what she wanted to do, it seemed like a good idea to Scott too.

He knows that people will start leaving soon, the conversations had started to die down, and they were all collectively sitting in comfortable silence listening to the sound of fire crackling.

“Should we toast?” Scott suggests, looking around at the people in his life -- the people that he had grown to love, to trust. These were the people that had helped shaped who he was as a person, they challenged him and stood by him during times that seemed unbearable. They all had a darkness inside of them because of things they’ve seen and witnessed and felt, but that wasn’t always a bad thing. Scott still felt it sometimes, and he had explained how it felt before, like looking into a heart of immense darkness, but he found that even though the art of letting go was hard, and even sometimes difficult, he knew that his friends had felt it too and they could rely on each other.

They had all lifted their cups and Scott had tried to think of what he could say because he had so many thoughts, so many good memories he wanted to reflect on, but all he could think of was how goddamn lucky he was to have these group of people in his life.

“I know that I should say something long and dramatic, but uh, if I do I’m afraid I’ll cry or something,” he chuckled, “so, I guess I just want to say- thank you guys for- for everything. And I’ll see you all at Thanksgiving, back in my backyard,” he made a point to look at everyone directly, and they laughed and nodded their head, of course they’d come back. “So to us,”

Raymond Carver had once said, “I could hear my heart beating, I could hear everyone’s heart. I could hear the human noise we sat there making, not one of us moving, not even when the room went dark.” With red cups in the air, tapping against the person closest and reaching over a crackling fire they toasted to them, an accomplishment all in itself. Things were changing, but it was okay.

Scott had gone through a line of hugs, Melissa had cried, hugging all the kids that had become her pseudo children, she had wished them all good luck. Malia had hugged Scott for a long time, and told him that she’d call him tomorrow.

Then there was Stiles.

They had stood there looking at each other until Scott had made the first move. They had wrapped their arms around each other. It was always the worst part, leaving your best friend. It didn’t help that Stiles was his person, and that by now they should have been used to saying goodbye. It didn’t make it any easier. Whenever Stiles was away Scott had felt something in his stomach, that went up to his chest, and got stuck in his throat. He’d think about his best friend and the fond memories that he had. Once upon a time they were just two kids searching for a body in the woods with terrible haircuts and clothes.

“I hate this,” Stiles had laughed into Scott’s sweatshirt.

“I know,” Scott said, mirroring the other boy. He felt it then. He hadn’t cried in so long but he felt the first tear roll down his cheek onto the other’s shoulder.

“I’ll come visit you or you’ll come visit me,” It wasn’t a question, it was a promise. Scott didn’t break promises.

“Okay,” Stiles says, wiping his own face and looking at Scott, “Okay.”

iii.

Eventually the last car leaves and Melissa goes to bed but not without hugging her son, she tells him to get some sleep, they have a long drive tomorrow.

When he knows she’s asleep he grabs his coat and goes to the backyard and to his mother’s garden that she’s attempting to have again and he tries his best to clip some flowers off without killing the plant but he knows he probably has and he knows that his mom will forgive him.

He doesn’t take his bike, instead he runs. It’s not that far and he knows a quicker way to get there.

There are days when he can go without thinking about it. Tonight just didn’t seem right if he didn’t at least go for one last time until the next time. He didn’t know when that would be.

Allison’s grave is under a tree that’s just starting to really grow. It’s been a long time since Scott had come and he can’t help but smile at the growing tree. He had found it fitting when he saw it being planted by her grave, it would give Chris some shade when he would come and catch her up on his life. It just hurt too much for Scott to visit as much as Chris, but he came. He came for her birthday, for her dad’s birthday, for Thanksgiving, Christmas, and even Valentine’s Day when he could remember because she’d always be his girl.

He placed the flowers on the grave and had sat down cross legged. He wanted to tell her everything that happened, but he liked to think that she had been there and that she already knew. Instead, he tells her about his trip to the United Kingdom with Stiles, and he tells her about his favourite memory, and how she would have loved the scenery and the sea. He tells her that he’s going to school tomorrow and how terrified he is, and how he wished that she could be there with him. He tells her about Lydia, and Lydia with Stiles, and says that she probably already knows because Lydia must have told her but he wanted to confirm. He talks about Malia, and how he isn’t sure- and how he’s scared of loving someone else, but he knows that he has enough love in his heart too, anyway.

He wishes she were still here.

When the wind starts to blow he swears he can smell her perfume.

He places a hand on her grave and he tells her that he’ll see her soon.

When he gets home he texts Kira. He’s not sure if it’s even her number anymore but he tries anyway.

I hope you’re well. I’m sorry for not keeping in contact, I should have. Thanks for being there when you were. I miss you loads. -Scott

iv.

The drive to Sacramento isn’t that long, but they wake up early for it anyway. They had already loaded a lot of stuff yesterday before the barbecue. Scott’s room looks empty, and it makes him feel a little weird seeing all of his posters taken down and wrapped away to put on a new wall in his dorm room.

Liam had come over early in the morning since he had already started school to say bye to Scott one last time. He helped put the last boxes in the car and he rubbed the back of his neck nervously before he sighed and wrapped his arms around Scott.

“I’m scared, Scott,” he says against him and Scott holds him a little tighter.

“Liam, you’re gonna to be fine. I believe in you.” Scott messes with his hair and smiles at him. “Believe in yourself. Beacon Hills is going to need you more than ever. Man the ship while I’m away,” he teases him and yet he knows that must have terrified Liam a little bit.

“You have a whole group here, you’ll be okay. I’m just a phone call away.” When he looked at Liam he saw for a second, the first memory he had with him, he was so angry, hating the world that had done such horrible things to him, but Scott still knew that he had a chance, he just needed someone to believe in him.

“You need to get to school but I’ll call you later.”

Liam hugs him one last time and waves him goodbye.

Melissa looks over at Scott as they pass by the places that Scott calls home, it was funny for him to think of how badly he was dying to get out of Beacon Hills, but driving pass the sign, ‘You are now leaving Beacon Hills. Come again soon!’ makes him feel small.

She reaches over to squeeze his hand and Scott smiles at his mom. “I’m okay.”

Melissa cries when the last box hits the ground in Scott’s dorm. She repeats her words, she can’t believe her baby is finally off to college. She knows that he’s not far away. It’s only a couple of hours away, he could probably run fast enough and be there within the hour. She’ll still miss him.

“You are the best part of me,” the one thing that she got right. She smooths his hair over, and hugs him one more time, and when she tries to pull away he doesn’t let her. He had always considered himself to be a strong person. Someone who could be self sufficient, but there were moments -- like these, when anxiety was the only thing he could feel, he was far enough from home to already feel homesick, surrounded by people he didn’t know, and his mom was about to leave, it had just reminded him that even people like Scott McCall still needed his mom and the reassurance that he’d be okay.

“Remember Scott, be your own anchor,” she kisses him on the forehead and waves goodbye.

“Text me when you get home,” he calls out to her and she nods.

He’s alone.

He goes over to his window and he looks out at the families saying goodbye to their children, and he smiles. Knowing that he wasn’t the only one who felt this way was comforting, even though he missed his friends. He would make new ones.

It had been a long time since Scott felt human. So he welcomed these emotions that he was feeling gladly. Because he didn’t think that he’d get to feel homesick for Beacon Hills, or homesick for friends and lovers back home, he didn’t think that he’d even be able to leave. He didn’t think that he’d get to have this feeling of nervousness for the first official day of school. He was enjoying being human.

vi.

When his roommate starts to move in he offers to help, they had talked over Facebook not too long ago it was nice putting a face to the boy named Levi other than the few profile pictures he saw of the guy. He seemed friendly enough.

He makes a few jokes with his roommates parents, and they tell, Levi that he has a pretty cool roommate and Scott can’t help but crack a smile. He leaves them alone as they say goodbye and when he comes back they figure out how they want to set up their new room. Levi has speakers and they bond over 90’s music, but particularly Blink 182.

Scott puts his corkboard up with the limited tools that he brought and gets his pictures out to tack on the board. Levi looks over and walks a little bit closer.

“Are these all your friends?”

Scott smiles, looking at all the pictures he’s pinned on the board already.

“Yeah, let me tell you about them,”

So he does.

At least as much as he can tell him about them.

“Alright, so your girlfriend is?”

“Malia,”

“Best friend is?”

“Stiles.”

“He’s the FBI one, yeah?”

“Correct.”

“And they both dated each other?”

“It’s complicated.”

So far, that’s all he knows, but they’re going down the list of friends he has one by one, because Scott wants him to know what his friends mean to him. They pause to get something to eat at their dining hall, the food isn’t his mom’s, and it’s not the mexican place that Isaac and Scott found by accident, but it’ll do.

When they walk back to their dorm they don’t run out of things to talk about and Scott takes it as a good sign.

Scott FaceTimes with Malia and tells her of the trip up to Sacramento and how he’s liking the campus, but he has to go soon because he promised that he’d call Stiles and his mom. They’ll be in touch tomorrow.

Scott calls his mom and they talk briefly but she has to go to work tomorrow early in the morning, but she says that she loves him and the house doesn’t feel the same and it makes his heart ache a little bit.

Stiles is still up by the time Scott calls him and they chat for an hour, they’re both settling into their new lives, and Scott introduces Levi to Stiles and Stiles says to take care of his buddy.

It doesn’t hurt as much now that he’s here. After the first day coming to a close he feels like he can do this and he’ll be okay.

vii.

Liam updates him every couple of days on what’s happening in Beacon Hills, but he misses Scott and it’s not the same, but he was right -- it was nothing that he couldn’t handle. He just can’t wait until he comes back.

He misses Beacon Hills in the way he misses an old friend.

Scott ends up exploring Sacramento and finds that he quite likes Old Sacramento with the train museum and the view of the river and Tower Bridge. If you go across the street there’s a dock area to take pictures of the river and the freeway in the distance. It’s his favourite place to go during sunset. It’s a drive to get to Sacramento but he’s figure out the bus transportation well enough to make the trip. He takes pictures and sends them to his mom who quickly responds back, “pretty!”

When he looks back on the pictures he’s taken, he’s sitting back in his dorm room on his bed and when he’s reached the end he slides past the pictures he took when Scott and Stiles were in London and Scotland.

He shoots Stiles a quick text telling him he misses him.

They’re all settling into their lives now, communication isn’t as much as it used to be but it’s enough to let everyone know that they’re thinking of each other.

Lydia sends cooking recipes in a group chat that no one will ever try but they all appreciate it anyway.

Liam starts the countdown to Thanksgiving break a month in advance with a lot of emoji’s.

Scott stresses over tests, exams, and professors.

He’s never been so glad to be stressing over school than anything else.

Liam, Mason, Corey, and Malia take a day trip to see Scott, he shows them his favourite places in Sacramento, and tells them about his classes, but mainly he wants to know what’s been going on in Beacon Hills. So they tell him over a diner by his school, and it almost feels like home.

viii.

Scott’s last day of school before Thanksgiving break is a hectic one but he’s so glad to be done for a couple of days and be able to go back to see his family. His dad is even coming over for dinner.

Levi and Scott say goodbye and that he’ll text him over the break.

He thinks it’s his mom who’s picking him up, but when a familiar jeep rolls up to the parking lot Scott nearly drops his suitcase.

The drive back is filled with laughter and catching up and Scott barely realizes they’re passing, ‘Welcome to Beacon Hills! Enjoy your stay!' sign, and the familiar tall trees, he rolls his window down just to really get the scent of home. It was amazing how comforting the smell of the familiar pines was.

Scott had once had to explain what home had meant to him. The most simplest answer was to say obviously the home that he had grown up in with the neighbours that had lived next to him his entire life. Now as an adult he had time to think about that answer again as they passed by all the familiar places of Beacon Hills. He didn’t understand the complexity of the question at that age, and if you were to ask him again what home meant to him he’d tell you it was a jeep with his best friend blasting New Radicals, he’d tell you that home was a town filled with over 30,000 people yet his small group of friends were the one’s that made the heart of it, and that there’s this mexican place off Fourth and Pine that’s to die for, and that for a lot of his high school years he spent quite a bit of time at the local veterinary and had been taught a lot of harsh life lessons in the back room but it still felt like home. As did the park by his house, and even Lacrosse field at Beacon Hills High. He had realized that home wasn’t so much a place, even though, yes, technically it was, but it was also the people in the place that made it home.

When they parked in front of his house he could already tell from the familiar faint smell of his friends and seeing their cars that they were already here for his welcome back.

He was home. This was home.

#scott mccall #stiles stilinski #malia tate #teen wolf #lydia martin #liam dunbar #mason hewitt #corey bryant #sheriff stilinski #melissa mccall #chris argent #allison argent #kira yukimura #derek hale #teen wolf fanfiction #scott mccall fanfiction #scalia #my fic #my writing

40 notes · View notes

himbowelsh · 7 years

Note

What about headcanons for Bob ships (with Harry and Kitty) as cop partners? What's their dynamic like? How they deal with hours spend together at night in the car while watching suspects?

I don’t know if you got it my ask, cause I’m always sending from my phone, about headcanons for Bob ships (including Harry and Kitty) as police partners and their dynamic. Can I just add Bill and Frannie and Skip and Don to that?

WINNIX

they’re both detectives, and they’re both good at what they do. but while dick has been steadily climbing through the ranks at his precinct, nix has developed a habit of day-drinking (along with his night-drinking) that’s gotten him demoted from his most recent position.

this puts him back as dick’s partner again, only a week after they were promoted away from each other. the department has figured out that they have two very competent officers on their hands; nixon is at his sharpest when he’s got dick to keep him in line.

as for the two of them, they work together like a house on fire. they’re a fantastic team.

no team is better at figuring out a suspect’s next move, and they rarely fail to get there before their criminal does. they have a fast banter, can read each other without a word, and find that the longer they work together, the more they fall into sync.

dick is good at organizing witnesses, keeping people under control and out of the way. nix is a master negotiator – though it’s not his official job, the department has employed him before to talk down suicidal people, and he’s even diffused several hostage situations.

they enjoy spending time together, even outside of work. neither of them want to start anything because they’re worried about how it would affect their work, but they’d both be very willing to take a chance.

SPEIRTON

they’re the “good cop, bad cop” duo

lip is one of the most even-tempered detectives on the squad. he’s patient enough to last through fifteen-hour-long stakeouts, is willing to listen to all sides of a case, and has a special ability of getting information out of anyone.

speirs is one scary dude, okay? like, he’s terrifying. he’s fantastic at his job. there are all sorts of horror stories flying around the precinct about him losing his temper, arresting witnesses, beating suspects half-to-death – but his actual record is spotless. if any of it happened, no one can prove it.

(lip has seen speirs on the job. he knows he’s got a cool head, doesn’t allow himself to fly off the handle, and has never harmed anyone without cause. he’s even put a stop to excessive force when he sees it; speirs hates abuses of power.)

he has killed a suspect, but only after he pulled a gun on them. it was an experience that affected him greatly. lip had to reassure him: “if you didn’t do it, i would have had to. otherwise one of us wouldn’t be standing here today. you did the right thing, ron.”

lip helps speirs see the humanity in the job. it keeps him from becoming cold, robotic, from forgetting what’s important – their job is to protect people.

speirs reminds lip what strength looks like – and that you do not have to be ruthless to be brave.

speirs does absolutely crazy shit on the job, and gets reprimanded for it all the time, but lip was the one who ran through sniper fire to reach a group of trapped middle school kids. he got chewed out both by his department and by ron, but it was worth it.

(”don’t do that again,” ron says in the isolation of the squad car afterwards, intense gaze piercing lip’s own. “i thought i lost you.”

the sentence sounds so intimate that lip does not know how to feel.)

BABEROE

babe is a rookie cop, following in his best friend bill’s footsteps. he’s eager, excitable, and enthusiastic about doing his job.

gene – who has been on the force for years, and was very content working with spina, until spina decided to move down to texas and race cows – isn’t sure how he wound up getting stuck with a partner like babe, but he’s not sure what to make of him.

babe gets to drive approximately once. he nearly crashes the car three times, and gene declares he’s never getting the chance again. it’s a struggle not to kill him on the first day on the job. the only thing that stops gene is knowing he’d probably get caught.

(that, and he’s a good person. regrettably.)

gene isn’t very active in the field, but he runs fast as anything. he once runs through fire to reach a group of civilians trapped behind a car, dodging bullets from all sides, and babe swears he’s never seen anything more incredible in his life.

so he kind of idolizes gene a little. he just has so much more experience, and is such an enigma. there’s so much he can learn from gene, and babe is determined to absorb everything he can. he wants to figure out everything about his partner... because that’s the best way to work together, right?

for his part, gene is a little confused by babe’s cheerful blabbering (his constant, constant blabbering) but is willing to put up with it. babe means well, anyhow. given time, gene’s sure he’ll grow into a great cop.

WEBGOTT

webster isn’t even a cop, okay

he’s a journalist who’s undergone police training and is assigned to shadow a cop duo for a few weeks. he’s got the basic police training, but isn’t an actual cop.

he’s assigned to liebgott and his partner tipper. tipper is a talkative guy who used to live in ireland, and has dozens of interesting stories. webster gets along with him very well, and gets endless material for his article.

liebgott is more difficult. he’s close-lipped and abrasive. the only time he really acknowledges webster is to be exasperated by him, or throw back a sarcastic comment that leaves him feeling stung.

he’s on his last week of the job when they get caught up in a shootout.

things are wild. bullets are flying back and forth, it’s the most terrifying experience of webster’s life. the back of the police car is completely riddled with bullets, and it webster had been in the car, he wouldn’t have survived.

thankfully, he and both officers are out of the car. liebgott orders him back while tipper begins shooting.

then tipper goes down with a shot through the eye, and things get really crazy from there.

liebgott freaks out as the suspect runs away. he takes just enough time to stabilize tipper, who’s remarkably still alive, and wait for backup to arrive on the scene, before he jumps back in the car. having no better ideas, webster goes with him.

webster sees several new sides of liebgott that day. he’s used to the sardonic, wisecracking, hotblooded officer who’d not afraid to confront suspects head-on.

seeing liebgott comfort his partner reveals a caring, protective side webster hasn’t realized he possessed; but the man driving this car is an angel of vengeance. liebgott’s eyes are blazing. he is a lethal weapon, zipping through the streets in pursuit of the suspect.

when he has the man in his sights, he accelerates. it’s obvious that liebgott is going to run him down.

“don’t do this,” web gasps. “joe, you don’t want this, you don’t want to have this on your conscience…”

“you don’t know what i want!” spits liebgott, but he doesn’t step on the gas. webster reaches over, laying a hand on his own, and the car begins to decelerate.

then the suspect raises his gun towards the car.

webster is the one who takes the suspect down. one shot, fired into the suspect’s knee, and the man goes crumpling to the pavement. liebgott doesn’t have blood on his hands.

(webster has never fired a gun in his life, and he really wasn’t supposed to do that, but he saved the day. joe gains a new respect for him after that. when web’s tenure as liebgott’s shadow ends, liebgott gives him his number and tells him he’d “really like to read that article of yours.”)

LUZTOYE

they seem like such opposites that it’s kind of amazing they work so well together as partners.

picture the ideal buddy cop duo. you got luztoye in a nutshell.

joe is serious about what he does, and he’s damn good at it. he’s been shot at on the job more times than he can count, hit three times, had a ladder dropped on him, got into a fistfight with a suspect, and was shoved out a window. he’s literally known in the precinct as “toye the invincible.”

(luz came up with “toyeminator”, but joe smacked him for that one.)

luz, meanwhile, doesn’t take things as seriously. he’s fantastic at the people part of his job. he’s good at diffusing hostile situations, putting people at ease, and talking people down. he’s also fast, and has take down suspects by speed alone.

their dynamic is a firey one, but they make it work. joe has to yell at luz for doing something stupid as often as luz yells at joe for being stubborn and taking risks. they reel each other in and keep from getting too hurt on the job.

off the job is a different story. they can hurt each other plenty, in the bedroom and outside of it. no matter what happens off duty, they never bring it up on the job.

george might flirt, joe might roll his eyes (and pretend he isn’t flirting back), but that’s their usual dynamic. they’re not about to start anything serious -- whatever complications that might bring, they don’t need to bring it on the job with them.

HARTY

no one can actually prove that harry and kitty are married, but they’re married.

it happened in vegas, of course. harry was wearing his police dress blues, kitty wore a wedding dress she bought in the hotel lobby. they came back home and told no one at work about it. hell, they barely even told their own families.

if people know they’re married, they’re going to be split up. harry and kitty have been partners since the day their careers began, and the idea of splitting up is unimaginable to them.

they’ve also been head over heels for each other since they sat down in a squad car side by side. what they’re doing might be against department law, but anything is worth it for love.

harry is reckless and absurdly lucky on the job. it tends to work out in his favor, but kitty is the one who tempers him and keeps him from flying off the handle.

kitty is quick-witted and smart, unafraid to get close to a suspect in order to neutralize them. she’s put herself in the line of fire more than once, but always has a backup plan. she has an edge of recklessness in the same vein as harry, but likes to think she’s more levelheaded.

eventually, someone is going to figure out that their relationship isn’t just “very friendly partners”. their friends are pretty certain they know what’s going on already, but they won’t rat them out. for now, harry and kitty are just doing their jobs, and doing their bests.

FRILL

they’re both scarily competent officers, natural leaders who know what they’re doing and how to get it done in the best way possible. they’re not afraid to take risks in the field and do whatever it takes to get the job done.

fran is a sure-shot, and can fast talk her way around any suspect. bill is more the muscle, but he’s great at intimidation, and has a fantastic tackle.

their banter is also legendary. if bill wasn’t head over heels in love with fran, they’d make a perfect buddy cop duo.

unfortunately, it’s not that easy. see, bill is in love with fran. he’s convinced they’re meant to be together, knows fran likes him back, and takes every chance he gets to hit on her.

(if she wanted him to stop, he would. if he wasn’t sure she also liked him, he would never be so forceful – but one night after work, following a round of tequila shots, led to very drunken kiss from fran. when she declared, “i’ve wanted to do that for so fuckin’ long,” bill was sold. unfortunately, she refused to discuss it the next day.)

fran is determined that there is nothing going on, and nothing will go on. she’s not going to do a workplace relationship. those are messy, complicated, and painful. she’s not going to be like harry and kitty from drug enforcement (who are “so married.” “are you kidding me? have you seen that rock on kitty’s finger? they’re married as hell.” “it was vegas.” “it had to be in vegas.”)

one day, bill is determined he’ll wear her down. for now, he’ll settle with their comfortable flirtation, and they’ll keep doing their jobs like the damn great cops they are.

SKILARK

they’re the donut cops.

they know it’s a stereotype, okay? they know and they don’t care. faye, who works at the local dunkin’ donuts, is always happy to give them a discount, and she brews great coffee. they’re not going to look a gift horse in the mouth.

(on the plus side, their squad car always smells like strawberry creme. it’s cool.)

they keep up a running banter with penkala, who works as beleaguered dispatcher. he acts pretty exasperated with everyone, but skip is convinced the two of them are his favorites. (this isn’t hard. everybody, even some of their suspects, gets along with skip.)

they tend to get into a bit of mischief on the job. once don “requisitioned” someone’s motorcycle to chase down a pair of fleeing bank robbers, and got chewed out over it. if skip hadn’t come to his defense, he would have gotten into a lot more trouble than he did.

when skip gets shot on the job, don’s entire world changes.

they’ve always been the partners

he’s not killed, but he is taken off the force for good. his recovery is a long, slow process. while don is by his side every step of the way, he becomes disillusioned with the police in general. he no longer wants to be a cop after seeing how it hurt skip.

eventually, he quits the force. when skip hears, he takes the news solemnly. he doesn’t blame him.

“we made one hell of a team while it lasted, buddy,” he says, and if the hug don gives him lasts a bit too long, neither of them says anything about it.

#Anonymous #headcanons #webgott #winnix #speirton #luztoye #skilark #harty #frill #baberoe

57 notes · View notes

venusrosepetal · 7 years

Text

Our Girl (Welcome to Hell)

Summary: (Modern!AU) Army medic, Private L/N, gets deployed on her first tour of Afghanistan. Struggling to fit in with her new comrades and adapt to the world of war, Pte L/N finds herself befriending a local, and pushing the boundaries of army regulations.

Pairing: Reader x Bucky Barnes - Reader x OC

Warnings: war, angst, blood, gore, death, PTSD, terrorism, stereotypes, sexual indications, swearing, cockney, slow-burn, a little offensive maybe? (throughout series)

Key: Pte - Private. Cpl - Corporal. Sgt - Sergeant. Skrimmed - Tassels. PT - Physical Training. TAB - Run in full kit with weight and weapons. Doris - Woman/Girl

Word Count: 2,467

A/N: I hope this is good and easy to read. Please also remember this is my first time writing. Tags are at the bottom and I’m sorry there isn’t too much of Sgt Barnes in this, but he’ll be around more and more as time goes on! & Isn’t Wanda awesome!! Sorry if you find the soldiers nicknames weird, they are the actual names from the TV show.

Camp Bastion, Afghanistan. 4:30am

The journey to Afghanistan was drab.

Soldiers lined the cold aircraft walls; kit cluttered around their feet. Most were now either asleep or conversing with their comrades. Faces wrinkled in pure joy, despite the knowledge of what’s waiting on the other side.

Sleep seemed to evade you as your eyes wandered over the many faces littered within the shuttle. Not everyone here will make it home. Your chest tightened at the thought of losing a peer, especially one in your section. The five guys whose lives you’re responsible for saving.

Fingers, Mansfield, Dangleberries, Baz-vegas and Smurf. Your brothers in green.

To your left, Captain Rogers absently fiddled with his radio. His perfectly styled blonde hair no longer hidden under his navy beret. Was this guy immune to hat hair?

You let your focus wander down from his hair, taking in his strong jaw, crystal blue eyes, and inhuman physique. Seriously, did they all look like this in America? “Right. We’re thirty minutes outside Bastion, put on all protective clothing including helmets.” The Captain ordered. Forcing yourself out of your trance, you began to attach your armor. A bullet-proof vest covered your torso while pads protected your knees and elbows. Hard-knuckled gloves shielded your hands as you strap your skrimmed-helmet under your chin and swung your duffel bag onto your back. Nervous butterflies spew in your stomach when the plane begins to drop. Your fingers gripped tightly onto metal ridges of the bench as your eyes squeeze closed; trying desperately to free yourself from this new-found anxiety.

Until now you had been undoubtedly excited to get to Afghan. Excited to do your job and help the Afghan people dismantle the Taliban and regain their home.

However, at this moment, you’re terrified.

Sand bags and shipping containers made up the four-mile walls surrounding Camp Bastion, with the inside absolutely brimming with flat-pack tin buildings, tents, vehicles and large weaponry.

Marching with your section, you made your way over to a large, green tent. Perfectly lined up US soldiers stood straight just outside.

“Section halt! Right turn!” Captain Rogers commanded. You stomp your right foot closely to your left with your back straight. Sharply turning right and stomping again, your sections stood to attention alongside the US soldiers.

“Under five’s, Welcome to Afghanistan. This ugly bunch here,” He signaled towards the US soldiers. “like to call themselves The Avengers. ” You snorted at the name.

Modest much?

The Captain ignored your little disruption and began introducing his team. There was Sam - a gorgeous, dark-skinned, well-built man, with a gap tooth and killer smirk. Clint – A slim, dirty blonde with a face that said ‘I seriously couldn’t give a fuck’ and Tony – A cocksure engineer with ridiculously trimmed facial hair.

Within minutes, tears were streaming freely down your face. Sam was attempting to impersonate your South-Eastern accent causing you to double over laughing. You covered your face with both hands and attempt to hide the ugly-laugh-face you pulled when something really set you off.

Your laughter started to slow as you straightened up, only to notice the whole platoon was now braced and facing towards the front. Copying your comrades, you quickly stood-to-attention, facing forward.

Next to the Captain stood an equally beefy brunette. His dark hair was definitely longer than army regulation usually allowed; falling just below his ears. A few strands fell around his face as he ran his finger through the tousled locks. Dark stubble surrounded his pink lips and a long, straight nose stood proudly between two captivating blue eyes, that just so happened to be scowling at you through the bodies of your peers.

You were definitely sporting some serious heart eyes right now. How come the US got all the male models and the UK got a smurf and a knock-off Prince Harry?

Standing up straighter, you mumble a quick apology to the sour-faced brunette and averted your gaze to Captain Rogers.

“ This is Sergeant Barnes.” The Captain motioned Mr blue-eyes. “He will be leading you through your two-day simulation here in Bastion, as well as joining you on your first mission. Barnes here is on his fourth tour of Afghanistan, there’s no one I trust more than him.” He placed a firm hand on the Sergeants shoulder, smiling fondly in the process.

The sight of the smiling sergeant was enough to make you go weak in the knees. The way his eyes almost completely closed and his nose scrunched up above his wide toothy smile.

If you weren’t drooling before, you definitely are now.

After leaving the boys their tent to get situated, you found yourself wandering the sandy base trying to find the female quarters. Sergeant Barnes had made it abundantly clear you would not be bunking alongside your male associates. Instead, sending you out alone with a side-eye and a snide remark along the lines of ’ did you even pass geography in school?‘

Now both the Captain and the Sergeant seem to dislike you. All you did was giggle a little bit and try to lighten the heavy mood. Maybe these guys were just all work and no play, if so, you sure as hell weren’t going to get along. You were well known in training for being disobedient and a joker.

Footsteps were gaining behind you causing you to snap your head in their direction. Your dust-filled eyes found those of the only prick who could make your mood fifty percent better or one-hundred percent worse: Smurf.

“Barnes sent me to help you find your way. He thought our little Doris would get lost on her own.” He shook his head towards the floor, walking along side you. “Why’d he send you? Sam said this is his second tour, surely he’d know exactly where they are.” you quipped. “Because he loves me, everyone loves me. I’m the life and soul pal.” “Oh fuck off Smurf.I don’t know if I can put up with six months of your bullshit..”

“Are you really that pissed off that Barnes likes me?”

”Well. maybe I don’t want that rude prick to like me!” You defended. “ You know what Y/N, find your own way. Sergeant Barnes is a better person than you’ll ever be.” With that he stormed off in the direction he’d come from, once again leaving you to find your own way. “Are you looking for the female quarters?” Voiced the petite brunette just a few steps ahead. You nodded at her question causing her to reach over and take one of your bags. “ I’ll show you. Don’t worry about Smurf,” she assured as she led you into another large tent. “Dump your kit, the bed next to mine is free. I’m Wanda.” she outstretched her hand after dropping your bag on the empty bed. You shook her small hand briefly stating your name and a thank you. “You know Smurf.” You asked as you put your kit under the bed. “Not really, but I knew his twin brother, he was killed in Area Fifteen.”

“You’re joking?”

“Barnes was his Sergeant too, that's why Smurf won’t hear a bad word about him.”

“I just called him a rude prick.” You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“Geraint was shot in the neck on patrol. Sergeant Barnes crawled about two hundred meters on his stomach to retrieve his body. He wasn’t leaving him as a trophy for the Taliban.” She smiled sympathetically. “He’d do the same for you.” She continued.

You widen your eyes as the words spill from Wanda’s mouth. Not for a second did you expect that to be the reason behind Smurfs sudden outburst.

”Let’s hope he doesn’t have too.” You mumbled. “He’s just come across so snotty and rude like I’m not good enough for his platoon.”

“It’s ok. He can come across that way sometimes, but he’s a good guy and an even better soldier.” She smiled reassuringly. “Why don’t we get dinner later, they have a pizza hut here?” “That would be great, thanks, Wanda. Can I ask you one question?” She smiled and nodded to you, urging you to continue. “ Does it always feel like you’re walking through treacle here?” At this Wanda let out a full belly laugh, throwing her head back nodding in the process.

“You did what!?” Wanda gasped, Staring at you with wide eyes and an open mouth.

“I gave a recruit a lap dance in basic.” You laughed, taking a bite of your greasy pizza, while she stared at you in bewilderment.

“Where? Why? H-how?” Holding your hands up in surrender, she paused with her questions and picked up her slice again; raising her eyebrows for you to explain.

“Well first off, it was a dare. We were going home for a long weekend the next day so we had a couple of games. I had let slip a few weeks before that I had taken a six-week lap dancing class, as part of a bridal party, so they just picked a guy and I gave him a lap-dance. It was either that or streak round the quarters.” you huffed a laugh as you recited the vivid memory. Basic training truly was the best time of your life.

Brushing your fingers over your trouser legs, you interlock your fingers and use them to rest your chin as you continued.

“ We went into the storage locker where they kept the rations and I gave him a lap dance. It was mortifying really. I couldn’t look him in the eye again.” Wanda was staring as if you had grown two heads.

She opened her mouth to speak when a loud alarm rang through the air. To you, it sounded like a nuke warning, but one look at Wanda and you knew that wasn’t the case.

She scrambled off the bench, quickly tossing the pizza in the bin a few feet away. Another woman ran up to her, rambling something you couldn’t make out.

“ Six injured, they’re bringing them in now. All medical personal report to the hospital.” She shouts to you as she begins to run backward.

“Me!?”

“ You’re medical aren’t you?” you run towards the hospital, rounding onto the main dirt road within the camp. Your legs are burning as you run up behind the ambulance. Wanda jumps on the nearest stretcher, ready to wheel it into the hospital.

Your panicking eyes ghost over the quivering body that occupied the stretcher. A man, no older than twenty-five. The skin around his eyes was clean from tears when the rest of his body was covered in soot, dirt, and blood.

“Y/N! GET ON THE STRETCHER!” Wanda’s voice snapped through your trance, and look at her. You force your shaking hands to grasp the end of the stretcher and push it forward through the hospital doors.

Looking back over the crying male, you finally notice his injuries. Legs completely blown below the knees. Blood was oozing from around the shattered bones as bits of flesh hung on to the red wound by threads.

He’s not going to make it.

Pulling up to the bed, a team of surgeons moves in, sticking the soldier full of needles and IVs, preparing for theater. You take a step back as the room begins to spin. Adrenaline was pumping through you by the bucket load as more soldiers with similar injuries begin coming into the room.

You’re still stumbling backward as you hit the shoulder of another medic.

“Pull yourself together medic.”

“Private L/N?”

“Private L/N!”

You knotted your running shoes and straightened out your shorts and t-shirt. Sergeant Barnes had requested yesterday that your section do a PT session this morning to help your bodies acclimatize to the warmer conditions. By this morning he meant four-thirty am, and by PT he meant a tab which became apparent when you stepped outside the tent to find all nine men dressed in their full uniform.

“I suppose I should be glad you’re not wearing your stilettos,” Barnes mocked as the guys wolf-whistled. “It’s full kit L/N.”

“Yes, boss.” You replied as you ducked back into the tent to get changed.

Thirty minutes into the tab and you were breathing out of your arse. The images from the hospital kept you from sleep last night, every time you shut your eyes all you saw was blood, bones, and flesh. So not only did it feel as though you were inhaling golden syrup with every breath, you were a majorly sleep deprived.

You ran in the back. Sergeant Barnes ran ahead of the section, leading the way around his makeshift course. He doesn’t even look like he’s broken a sweat, let alone about to keel over like you.

“Is everyone acclimatizing to the conditions?” He yelled. His voice completely gasp free. A chorus of ‘yes’ or 'boss’ was answered back, all coming out slightly breathy. “Alright, sprint the last fifty meters. GO!” They all took off running. Totally distancing themselves from you.

“Smurf! Drop to the floor!” following commands, Smurf hurriedly fell to the sand, laying flat on his back. Everyone stopped by him.

“ Medic! Man down! Left arm blown off above the elbow! What are you going to do?” The boss shouted at you, walking to you as you try to jog to Smurf without passing out. Slowing down, even more, you suppress the urge to vomit as you slowly squat before the 'injured’ soldier. Panting furiously, your shaking fingers fumbled with the tourniquet.

“ Come on medic! You gonna let him bleed out while you gasp for air like a puffer fish?!” You give the Sgt the angriest look you could muster while still gasping for air. Your fingers would not separate the Velcro tourniquet no matter how hard you tried.

“L/N! Come! On! This isn’t Call of Duty. If someone stands on an IUD, there’s a life to save!” Smurf was staring at you with a pitiful look, while the others looked terrified at the fact the person in charge of saving them, can’t open a bloody tourniquet.

“Smurf get up! Get yourselves showered!” Smurf jumped up and the section took off running again. You slowly stand, jogging after them with Barnes at your side. You were right. He hadn’t broken a sweat.

“He could’ve died just then L/N.” He was speaking quieter now, but you could still her the enmity in his tone. “Now please don’t tell me we’ve got the only medic who can’t stand the sight of blood.”

You didn’t answer. You just gave him a look that said 'please can you fuck yourself’ and carried on running. Barnes stayed running beside you for a few seconds more before sighing and running off to the showers.

What a fucking asshole.

TAGS: @jacks-on-crack @sebstanwassup @kozmicrock @just-call-me-mrs-captain @beccaanne814-blog @charlesgrey1875 @kimistry27 @marvelrevival @viollettes @letmebecomeataboo @phvckingphandoms @langinator @emolordisme @magsimovna @fairchild21 @shelvesandwhelves @viollettes

#mynameispaigex #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #james bucky barnes #bucky fanfic #bucky au #ourgirl

66 notes · View notes

r0u53 · 6 years

Text

My Imaginary Friend

“Nobody realizes that some people expend tremendous energy merely to be normal”

- Albert Camus

When we are children some of us can remember having an imaginary friend. I had “Jeremy”. I don’t remember at what point in my childhood I imagined him to life, but, I can remember telling my mother all about the things “Jeremy and I” did outside while playing in the yard. He wasn’t one of those dominate imaginary friends who was involved in everything but since I was the youngest child (by a LOT of years, my brother who is second to last in my siblings is 12 years older than me) who didn’t have siblings to play with I made that person up. Jeremy and I played in the treehouse, swam in the pool, and played on our play set. Jeremy also was there for me during the bad nights. The nights, after my 6th birthday, when my parents would yell and scream for hours on end because of the latest fight that they felt the need to have. I could feel Jeremy holding my hand, laying under the blankets with me, and helped me close my eyes tight and take myself to a pretend land where it was quiet and where screaming was forbidden. Jeremy in all sense of the word was my “sanctuary”. He didn’t yell, he didn’t get mad, and he never, ever left me.

At some point, as I got older, Jeremy shifted away from my reality and I came to acknowledge that my imaginary friend wasn’t reasonable to have anymore. I started to realize I had to find a logical way to deal with the stress and unpleasantness that life brings. I couldn’t hide with Jeremy under the blankets when I was in social situations, at work, or while I was praying for the screaming to stop. At that point I felt as if I had no one that I could solidly turn to. This of course was not the truth, I had a lot of people who loved, cared, and wanted the best for me. But in my mind, without Jeremy, I was truly alone. This created the “don’t ask, don’t tell” years. The years in which I ignored the “Are you ok?” questions and instead created a facade that masked over what was really happening inside of my head so no one would notice. The years where I didn’t tell anyone how I was feeling, what was bothering me, and what was too much to bear. Instead I kept this feeling so deeply inside of me that I could feel it gnawing at my stomach, could feel it buzzing inside of my brain, and could feel it slowly killing the happy, light hearted person that I was with “Jeremy”. But the one thing I didn’t let happen was I refused to ever, ever, ever lose it completely. I allowed myself to get to the point of just enough and then I would make it stop. I would never fully allow myself to panic. A lot of time this meant causing myself physical pain that I forced myself to focus on rather than deal with what was going on in my head. I functioned for my entire teenage years and a very big majority of my 20’s with this feeling. It became so part of my life that I simply accepted it as who I was destined to become in this world. Never truly happy but never absolutely miserable. Just there.

“Never have I dealt with anything more difficult than my own soul"

- Unknown

Enter year 26. In January of 2013 I met the man who would absolutely and completely change my life. He was a tall, handsome, shy man who wore a purple batman shirt to a bowling alley that we both didn’t want to be at. And while we barely spoke 10 words to each other that night (introvert couple problems) in the next few months I would never want to hear one persons voice so much in my life. Our relationship felt like a whirlwind of emotions and colors that I had never felt or seen before. We spoke every day, texted from sunrise to sunset, and saw each other as much as we possibly could living an hour apart and both having very busy lives. By November of that year he had asked me to marry him and by May of the following year we were saying “I do”. Before I could realize it he became my new “Jeremy”. He was the one my mind went to to help me deal with the latest stress it had created. He was the one who held my hand, the one who hid under the blankets with me, and the one who never yelled because it was forbidden. Before I realized it I was relying so heavily on him that when he was not around suddenly I completely forgot how I dealt with the bad times and my grip on the panic started slipping.

I remember my first full panic attack. I was facing a work trip that involved me getting on a plane by myself and flying to Las Vegas. It would be the first night sleeping away from my husband, the first time being over 1,000 miles away from him. Enter the night before I was about to leave. I had gone upstairs to our bedroom and in one moment my brain went into the most uncontrollable panic that I didn’t know what was happening to me. I felt my blood go cold inside of my body, I felt my hands shake, felt my lungs burn as I struggled to breath, and I felt myself crying uncontrollably. I could blindly hear my husband running up the stairs and pulling me into his arms. “Baby, what’s wrong” my mind could hear him saying over and over. My mouth opened and I could hear myself say “I’m scared”. In reality it was so much more than “scared” of going on the trip. I was petrified that my mind had suddenly betrayed me. What was this? I didn’t panic. I didn’t allow myself to panic. I held it in, kept control, no breaks, no leeway, 24/7. Who was this weak person who was curled into a ball on our bed while my husband ran his hands through my hair whispering “I’m here baby, it’s ok. I won’t let anything happen to you.”?

“The Mad Hatter: ‘Have I gone mad?’ Alice: I’m afraid so. Your entirely bonkers. But I’ll tell you a secret. All the best people are.”

- C.S. Lewis “Alice in Wonderland”

I remember the first time I heard the word “anxiety” used to describe what was happening to me. It had gotten to the point that my mental state was starting to affect my work and my boss started to notice. He came to me, concerned I was unhappy at my job. I burst into tears, begging for forgiveness. And in an instant my mouth opened and everything came out. I told him everything I had been going through, everything that I was dealing with, and all the nights I had spent awake thinking of every worst possible scenario possible to every situation I might possibly have to face. I told him I was crazy. His words were “Amanda, you are not crazy. You have anxiety.” It’s funny how hearing one simple word changes your entire view of yourself. It’s like uncovering a mirror and slowly letting the reflection show you what you really look like. But that mirror shows you everything that you really don’t like about yourself: the extra weight, the spots on your face, your dark shadows under your eyes, the haircut that isn’t flattering, the makeup that doesn’t look as good as the end of the day. However, this mirror showed the absolutely terrible mental state that I now found myself accepting. I was not strong, I was not in control. I was so incredibly fragile and broken that I did not know who I was. This girl had never existed in my entire life. What was I supposed to do with her?

I wish I could end this with this amazingly uplifting blurb about how I was able to conquer my anxiety and that instead of my anxious thoughts taking over 85% of my thoughts it now only is 20%. However, I cannot. In all honesty the anxious thoughts are probably 50 -60% of my thoughts. I have however learned that I can gain some control. My support system is 110% part of what makes me strong. Each person who is part of it in some way helps me get through all my bad moments. And by focusing on that I feel like my bad moments don’t last as long. The anxiety isn’t as crippling, it doesn’t last as long, and when it does I feel that I can still remember “This too shall pass.” My anixiety is with me wherever I go. To the grocery store, to that social engagement I don’t want to go to, to all my work trips, and to all the moments that make my heart beat a little bit faster. Always there and holding my hand warning me of all the bad things that could happen in this moment. This is a different version of “Jeremy” that I didn’t know existed but I feel like was always there. He was that part of me that I kept hidden, that I didn’t accept, and I didn’t acknowledge so that I didn’t have to feel so fragile. He was my gut wrenching fear that my parents weren’t going to make it through this fight. He was my absolute devastation and tears over the hurtful words and actions of teenage bully’s. He was the heartbreak of watching death, watching loved ones walk away from you, and the horrible feeling of losing friends. He was the intense pain of change in your life you didn’t want to happen but that happened anyway. He was the few tears you cried when everything became too much. Yes, “Jeremy” was always my anxiety. He was always my little friend.

“And tho she be but little. She is fierce.”

- William Shakespear

There’s a part in The Lord of The Rings book “The Return of the King” where Frodo has finally succumb to the journey. He had completed his journey, destroyed the ring, but found himself too tired to finish. In what he feels is his last moments he turns to his faithful friend and says “I am glad to be here with you Samwise Gamgee. Here at the end of all things.” I can remember being a 15 year old girl reading Lord of The Rings for the first time (the first of 24 times) and feeling such absolute heartbreak at those words. Not just for the characters that I had grown to love but I had the worst yearning to feel that way about someone in my life. To have that person who would find you no matter what and would always be there for you. Anxiety has introduced me to those characters in my life. I have found my Samwise Gamgee’s.

It’s a funny thing, anxiety. While it is terrifying and crippling and absolutely awful, it also really opens your eyes to a whole new world around you. Not while you are in the middle of the blinding panic but in the times in between. In the solitude of your mind finally quieting and the buzzing lifting you start to see what you missed. The best friend that, even tho he’s going through so many problems himself, is always there for you. He’s the one who doesn’t need you to explain what is going on because he just gets it. The one who always signs to you “Are you ok?” because he knows you can’t answer the question out loud. And even if he doesn’t know everything he’s there anyway with a smile and a pun that makes you roll your eyes. Your best friend who might not fully know what you have to deal with on a regular basis understands anyway because she is going through so many changes herself that she to starts to feel the pull of anxiety. And when she knows your days are bad, even though she's 2 hours away, she sends you so many encouraging texts and snapchats to make you laugh just so that you can stop crying. The mother, who you were terrified to tell, that is suddenly so understanding that it makes you cry and wish at the same time that you weren’t telling her. And the husband. The husband who doesn’t even have to ask you anymore because he knows you so well that he can see it in your eyes before you even fully know it yourself. The husband who encourages you to be brave but who doesn’t get mad at you when you can’t be. The husband who holds your hand a little tighter because he can feel the slight trembling in your hands. The husband who kisses your forehead and tells you “I’m so proud of you.” The husband who put the color back in your world. The husband that makes you a little braver with every “Amanda, I love you.” Yes, anxiety, even in it’s worst forms has opened my eyes to what I didn’t realize I had. That support system that gets me through all my long days and all my sleepless nights. They are the real soldiers in this war I fight because in ways I feel like their jobs are harder. They have to feel helpless and they have to watch. And lets face it, as ugly as anxiety is on the inside, it’s a hideous monster on the outside.

In a way this blog post was therapy for me. But it was also my way to say “Thank you.” To my best friends, to my support system, to my amazing husband. And to “Jeremy.” Thank you, for always be there. For always being my friend.

“Not to spoil the ending for you or anything, but everything is going to be ok”

#anxiety #mental health #mental illness #mental disorder #depressing blog #depresssion #blogger #support #anxious #anxious thoughts #emotions #mental health awareness #mental health month #mentally ill #mentally exhausted #mentally unstable #mentaltoughness #mental breakdown #you are not alone

0 notes