#don't worry ill still post on saturdays

[squishmallow36]

Keeper of the Lost Prepositions - Forty-four

Word count: 2.6k

Tw: dark!Dex, little bit of torture, little bit of extortion. Not super graphic.

Taglist (lmk if you want to be added/removed!): @stellar-lune @gaslight-gaetkeep-gayboss @kamikothe1and0lny @nyxpixels @florida-fruity-frog @poppinspop @crystallinewalker @uni-seahorse-572 @solreefs @books-over-boys @rusted-phone-calls @when-wax-wings-melt @cotyledon-tomentosa @good-old-fashioned-lover-boy7 @dexter-dizzknees @abubble125 @stuff-is-way

On Ao3 or below the cut!

    Nothing worth mentioning happens in the next week. I mean, Fitz and I watched all of Phineas and Ferb, but that’s not exactly the most noteworthy thing that’s ever happened. 

    I wake up to a text from him. 

    Hey, Dex. I was just wondering if maybe you would want to come and try to get some information out of Alvar with me. 

    I sigh, But why?

    Fitz has been trying, and failing, to get information out of Alvar for over a month now. I really don’t know how he’s held himself together for this long. 

    Maybe the reason Alvar isn’t telling us anything is because he doesn’t know anything. 

    Because you’re really good at arguing. 

    …

    Honestly, that’s the best reason with which you’ve come up yet. 

    “Lovise, Fitz wants me to interrogate Alvar with him.”

    Deep sigh. 

    “Fine.”

    I’ll get my gadgets. See you in like ten minutes.

    See you. 

    I throw on some clothes with as many pockets as I can find, and fill them up with as many things as I can get in there. 

    Would it be wrong to bring a backpack with me with more gadgets? Just for more options?

    “That’s where you were,” I mutter, finding my pocket knife. 

     It’s not the most technologically advanced thing I’ve got in here, but it’s sharp and, honestly, it’ll be effective, should I need to use it.

    When I’m satisfied, I head over to the Leapmaster and leap to Everglen with Lovise. 

    It’s still a bit odd to leap there and not walk through the glowing gates to knock on the door. 

    “Hi. How have you been?” Fitz asks. 

    “You were at my house yesterday. How do you think I am?’’

    I cringe at how that sounds, but I have to keep myself in angry mode or we’re not going to get anywhere with Alvar. 

    Even if it’s going to be pointless, I might as well try. 

    Fitz simply gives me a thumbs up, like ‘okay we’re dealing with mean Dex. Got it’.

    “Where is this dirtbag?”

    Holding up a dark leaping crystal, he answers, “After you.”

    Magsidan? We’re going underground?

    I step through the cold light to find myself in a small, dark cave with no entry or exit except for the way we came. 

    Fitz hits a light switch, illuminating the room with sickly yellow light and the groans start immediately. 

    “So rude.” 

    Ruy demands, “Why are you here again for stars’ sake?”

    I mean, he didn’t say ‘stars’ but it conveys the same idea. 

    “I brought a friend.”

    There’s a slight edge on ‘friend’ that I might have imagined, but it makes me happy to know he’s still claiming me. 

    “What’s up? Remember me?” 

    “Are we supposed to be scared?” Alvar asks. 

    “All I’m going to say is ‘fear the Technopath.’” Fitz says.

    Sitting down across from Alvar, I say, “I’ve got a few options for us today. But let me first set the mood.” 

    I turn on the looped triplet recording of “Let it Go,” figuring it’d be just a little insanity-inducing. It might help. You never know. 

    Alvar sneers. “You look like an angry teddy bear.”

    Ignoring him, I give Fitz a pair of normal ear plugs without an explanation. Trusting he’s going to get them into his ears himself, I pop in my own pair. 

    I’ve modified one of my fancy ear plugs to be able to create sounds, not just to interfere with other sound waves, to run a little experiment. 

    When dealing with humans, sounds over eighty-five decibels can cause hearing damage over a long period, and over one hundred twenty can cause harm immediately. 

    Let’s see how resilient elvin ears are to loud sounds.

    So, starting with a nice, even one hundred, at five thousand hertz, because I watched a like ten second YouTube video going from twenty to twenty thousand hertz, to find the most annoying frequency I could find, and five thousand was perfectly horrible. 

    Also, I didn’t want to stress out the tech by making it play anything too difficult yet. 

   If I have to build another one of these things, my fingers will run away in protest. 

    As soon as I switch it on, Alvar tries to cover his ears with his hands, trapped on the table. Realizing that there’s no point, he presses his ear into his shoulder. 

    I wait for the triplet cover of “Let it Go” to end, at least the version burned into my memory, before I switch it off. 

    Taking an ear plug out, I ask, “Did that jog your memory?”

    All I get is an unimpressed glare. 

    “Thought so.”

    Ear plug in my ear. Device back on, louder. 

    I should be worried about what I’m doing to his hearing, but I can’t seem to care. 

    I wait for “Let It Go” to end again before turning it back off. 

    Ear plug out. “How about now?” 

    Loudly, Alvar says, “I don’t know anything. Why can’t you understand that?” 

    I hesitate just for a moment before playing my next card. I have a feeling it’ll be my best, or at least up there. 

    Standing up, I say, “Perhaps your boyfriend knows something.”

    “Wait. Wait.” Alvar hangs his head. “I know an identity.”

    Slowly, I sit back down. “Well. We’re waiting.”

    He debates with himself, choosing words carefully. “Our technopath is the same as yours for the Black Swan.”

    “We knew that. I literally mentioned it the last time I saw you. Try again.”

    “How--?”

    I stand up, a silent warning. 

    “Stop!” 

    I tap my fingers on the table, waiting for something. 

    “Are Neverseen secrets the only ones that count? Because I’ve got a dirty little Vacker one.”

    I raise an eyebrow at Fitz, waiting for confirmation, who still has his ear plugs in his ears. 

    At least I didn’t blow out his eardrums. 

    He takes an ear plug at my glance, and lets out a breath when his ears aren’t being attacked. 

    “Go ahead,” I decide. 

    Alvar sucks in a sharp breath. “I’m not a Vacker.”

    Fitz snorts. “That’s because we all hate you, dirtbag.”

    “What I mean is that Alden isn’t my father.”

    Well. That’s...interesting. 

    “Got anything else for us, or are you just going to leave it there?” I ask.  

    “Fitz, you know how Mum spent time with humans, right?”

    “Yeah, why?” 

     Oh, Fitzy. It’s almost like it’s difficult to figure out what he’s saying. 

     Taking out my DNA sensor built into my Imparter, I hold it in front of Alvar’s face, saying, “Lick it or I’ll find another way to get your DNA.”

    “Is this sterile?”

    I pull out my pocket knife I found today. “Is that really your biggest worry right now?”

    Maybe it was something in my tone or the fact that I’ve stated my intention to damage Ruy’s eardrums enough times that he’s considering it’s not an empty warning. 

    As soon as he takes the tiniest lick of the sensor, I say, “If this was just a wild goose chase, I’m going to turn this thing as loud as it can go and if we’re lucky, you’ll be able to hear your boyfriend’s screams through the wall.”

    I grab Fitz’s elbow, dragging him out of the room with me. 

    “What just happened back there?”

    “Alvar’s only your half brother, assuming he wasn’t lying to buy himself some time. He’s half human. That’s why nobody likes him and there’s such an age gap between you two, especially compared to you and Biana. And why he’s always had to work so hard to look as perfect as you two. At least he got your Mom’s ability to keep the suspicion off his parentage.”

    Fitz swears. 

    “Yeah.”

    “Do you think my Dad knows?”

    “How would I know?”

    He considers this for a second. 

    “How’d you do that?”

    “How’d I do what?” 

    “Get any information out of him!”

     “Alvar knows he doesn’t have long after the troll goo, although now I’m starting to question it, so I assumed he cares about preserving his own life less than the average person would. However, when your boyfriend defected from the Neverseen to basically take care of you, there’s a very exploitable weakness. So, you use that to your advantage and get information.”

     “Why do you have this skill set?”

    “One younger sibling, three younger siblings. You learn these things. Especially when one has taken something another one wants.”

    “And also where did this scary Dex come from? I know, I know. Preposition.”

    “Sorry about how I acted when I was at your house. Scary Dex, as you called him, was literally just me channeling Disney Villains so then anything I say can maybe be taken seriously.”

    “You very much achieved that.”

    “If you say so. Anyway, I’m going to get this spit sample to Elwin so he can analyze it to see if Alvar’s a massive liar.” 

    Fitz snorts. “He is but I’ll let you go confirm it.” 

    “We’re hoping he isn’t lying about this.”

    “We are?” 

    “No. We’re hoping I don’t have to live up to my word.”

    “Fine.”

    “Fitz?”

    “I won’t hurt either of them while you’re gone.”

    “Good Wonderboy.”

    “See you later.”

    “Bye!” Waving, I step into the faint beam of light from the magsidan crystal. 

    A leap back home and then to Foxfire later, I open the door to the Healing Centre, saying, “Hey, Elwin!”

    Maybe he’s off somewhere fixing Sophie or something.

    Checking his office, knowing he can get as focused into his work as I can, I ask, “Elwin?” 

    I find him making out with someone and I immediately feel bad. 

    Not like ‘ew’ bad but like ‘sorry, I’ll come back later’ bad. 

    Bright red, Elwin turns around and notices me. I’m obviously waving awkwardly. 

    “Dex? What are you doing here?” 

    “I needed some analysis on a DNA sample. It’s kind of a long story.”

    “I do this for you, and this never happened.”

    “It already didn’t.” 

    Elwin’s partner adds, “You have to understand, Dex. I’ll lose my job if this gets out.”

    It takes my mind a regrettable second to connect the dots. “Councillor Darek! I didn’t realize it was you. Don’t worry. I’ve gotten a lot of practice keeping secrets recently.”

    He’s mentally swearing right about now. 

    Wiping his smudged glasses and sighing, Elwin asks, “So what’s the long version of the story with the DNA?”

    “So, Fitz asked me to see if I could get information out of Alvar, because he still hasn’t gotten anything, and he essentially told us two things, one we already knew, and one that might be a lie. That’s where we need you. Alvar said he’s half human, and I got a spit sample so then you can run it to see if it’s purely elvin or not so much.”

    “Oh. Okay. It’s going to take a second,” Elwin says. 

    “You’re not even going to question any of this?” Councillor Darek asks. 

    Elwin replies, “Nope. This isn’t the weirdest random thing I’ve done for Sophie and her friends.”

    “Are we going to ask what information he already knew?” 

    I look at him, like ‘Yeah, no, you’re not going to be told that.’

    “Okay, fine. Don’t tell the Councillor. It’s almost like I can’t call a tribunal.”

    “You’d have to lie your way through explaining how you got into this conversation, so I doubt you’ll do that. But it was an identity of a member of the Neverseen we already figured out for ourselves. The Black Swan already knows.”

    Councillor Darek sighs, rubbing his temples. “Please tell me this person is in custody.”

    “They’re not. We’re seeing if they slip anything relating to the Neverseen’s future plans.” 

    I look at Lovise. “But someone won’t let me near the,.”

    “Why do I even ask?”

    Elwin comments, “At least he’s already willing to hide other things from a Councillor.”

    Councillor Darek grumbles, “Good point...Shut up.”

    “This ranks above that, actually. There’s no way I’m going to out either of you.”

    “Dare I even ask?” 

    I always have to define things for everyone. 

    “‘Out’ is derived from ‘coming out of the closet,’ a human phrase meaning to tell others you’re gay or bi or whatever.”

    “Why do you know this?” Councillor Darek asks. 

    I mean, I could blame Wikipedia. But Elwin already knows. And it would improve my trustworthiness in the matter. 

    “I spend way too much time trying to learn about human things on Wikipedia, which is a human thing where there are articles on almost everything. Also I’m gay so there’s that.”

    “Oh.”

    Elwin isn’t even surprised. Not in the slightest. 

    “Wait a minute! You knew?” Darek snaps at Elwin. 

    “It wasn’t my secret to share!” 

    They glare at each other for a few seconds before the analysis is done and Elwin has to break eye contact. 

    Cursing under his breath, Elwin points out the helpful information.

    “Well,” I say. “I guess Alvar wasn’t a liar today. I should tell Fitz before he does something he shouldn’t.”

    Hey Wonderboy. Alvar was telling the truth. Call off the attack.

    You’re no fun. Do you want to get some more information out of him?

    “Elwin?”

    “What now?” Councillor Darek asks.

    “How long should I wait before exposing someone to, I don’t know, sounds of one hundred decibels in three minutes at a time at five thousand hertz twice before doing it again?”

    I know technically the second wave was louder, but Elwin doesn’t need to know that. 

    “That’s oddly specific…” Councillor Darek says at the same time Elwin just keeps repeating, “Don’t, no Dex, no.”

    I broke Elwin. We better wait at least a week before doing it again. 

   Pathetic. Fine. 

    He won’t be able to hear you yelling at him if we don’t let his ears at least sort of recover. 

    I can live with that. 

    I know. Do you want the world to know about this new discovery?

    Honestly, I don’t give a verminion’s behind. 

    Okay. You’re sure?

    Yeah. Some Vacker Legacy this is shaping up to be.

   “With all of that settled, I’m going to leave you two.”

   “Hail Livvy the next time you need something.”

   “No, I don’t think I will. See you later.”

    I start heading out the door, with Councillor Darek and Elwin waving behind me. 

    The last thing I hear as the door closes is Councillor Darek ask, “What just happened?”

    Well, there was also a fair amount of swearing involved. 

    As I’m walking to the leapmaster for no discernible reason because I have my home crystal, I text Marella, Hey, Marella. I know we haven’t been the closest of friends but I need a favour. 

    I leap home and get to my room before she replies, What do you need?

    You’re the queen of gossip and I’ve got something good that I want shared. 

    I’m intrigued.

    Alvar is half human. Mother is Della but father is unknown. 

    Dang, really?

    I’ve got a DNA test here that confirms it. 

    That’s quite a scandal you’ve uncovered.

    Alvar literally told me earlier today. Easiest scandal ever. 

    He’s not dead yet? Huh.

    Apparently not. 

    Linh says hi. I’ve got to get back to training but I’ll see you sometime. 

    Wait. I’ve got another thing if you want it.

    Of course. 

    Keefe’s pan. His father has disowned him until he “comes to his senses.” Pan means, in his words, not mine, “Girls are hot, guys are hot, fight me.” Just if there are any questions. It’s not an official definition by any means but it works well enough. 

    Got it. Anything else you want the people to know?

    Not as of right this second that I can remember.

    Alright. I’ll get them circulating as soon as I can. See you sometime. Maybe. 

    See you. 

    I kind of wonder how long it has been since I’ve seen Marella and Linh. All I know is it’s been a while. 

    I should go visit them and Fintan sometime. 

#kotlc #detz #dex dizznee #fitz vacker #kotlc fanfic #and that concludes our wednesday morning specials for pride month #don't worry ill still post on saturdays #but it takes forever to format these so I'm not exactly sad to see that I have less work to do

[bbtsficrecs]

BTS FIC RECS PART 4.1

Part 4.1 of some of my favourite BTS fanfics. Please do consider liking, reblogging and/or commenting on the fics you like. There are so many wonderful and amazing authors out there who do not get the recognition they deserve. So please send them lots of love to keep them going. If you're on here, then know I enjoyed every second of reading your story ♡

There will be two parts 4 as it's (sadly?) too long to be saved under one post. Stay tuned for part 5, joon recs will be added!

Please let me know if some of the links aren’t working. Happy reading!

⊹ Navi ‣ Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 4.1 | Part 5 |

⊹ Merry Kinkmas - part 02 Enemies to lovers au au | s | @bebejungkook ‣ You find out who your secret Santa was but his gift was a little too personal.

⊹ In Your Arms Tonight College au | s, f | @angelguk ‣ “I’m Team I Would Like To Be Fucked Tonight.” You stated, blatantly ignoring the stink eye he shot your way. “But clearly that’s not on our agenda. Have you ever seen Vampires Suck?”

⊹ Baecation Richboy!jk au | s, f | @1kook ‣ “Lose the top, or lose the right to present yourself in any low back gown for the next three months.” He truly knew the way to your heart.

⊹ Act Of Falling Fuckboy!jk au | s, f , a | @kooktrash ‣ What was supposed to be a meaningless fling has turned into much more before you both realized you were falling. Now all you can do is hope that all the challenges you’ve faced are worth something.

⊹ Candles & Flames Royal AU | s, f, a | @taegularities ‣  He wasn’t supposed to be yours. His foolery wasn’t supposed to target you. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

⊹ Distractions Practice couple au | s, f | @chryblossomjjk ‣ Jungkook agreed to let you do his makeup, but he can't stop getting distracted.

⊹ Naughty Boy Step siblings au | s | @scribblemetae ‣ Reader is older step sister that knows he has a crush on her/yandere tendencies & she teases him until one day he gives in. 

⊹ When It Feels Right (read part 1 first) Divorce au | a, f | @7deadlysinsfics ‣ Although Jungkook is struggling with the decision he made months ago, he still thinks it was the best thing he could’ve done for your safety. But he isn’t doing well, and his friends are worried about him and how he’s choosing to deal with his feelings. Meanwhile, you’re now living with your brother, his wife, and their ten-month-old daughter, who has helped bring some light into your life. Just as you decide to tell Jungkook the truth about your pregnancy, he appears at your brother’s house with a truth of his own.

⊹ When She Loved Me Terminally Ill au | s, f, a | @jungkookstatts ‣ How does one live when life is bound to end? 

⊹ your step brother fucking you in front of your parents Step siblings au | s | @aris-ink

⊹ Don't Blame Me (on-going) Single Dad au | s, f, a | @thvhoe ‣ Jungkook is known for his good looks and is often described by your friends as "daddy material." Funny enough, he actually was a daddy. The daddy of the baby girl you babysit every Saturday. Working as a nanny for the world's grumpiest single dad should have been easy, but you can't keep your eyes off him. He's handsome, a little arrogant, with broad shoulders and strong tattooed arms. And when he decides he can't keep his hands off of you. Who are you to resist?

⊹ Rolling Stone Idol au | s, f , a | @kooktrash ‣ He was a rolling stone with no ties to anyone or any place and that’s how he and his fans liked it. Now he’s found you and it’s never been this hard to convince someone that he’ll stay. The problem is neither of you know what it means to express yourselves without reverting to sex as a form to end discussion. It causes all hell to break loose when Jungkook realized if he wants you to stay for him [with him] then he needs to show it to you too. Can Jungkook and Y/n get past their own growing doubts on if what they feel is real and work out a way to be together—especially considering Y/n wants nothing to do with the limelight?

⊹ The Ability To Fantom - part 02 (on-going) Brother’s best friend au | a, f | @hanniwrites ‣ You are shocked when your friends reveal their theory: Jungkook, your brother’s annoying best friend, has a crush on you. A bad one.

⊹ Torn Apart Infidelity au | s, a | @bethschamberoftales ‣ That one time when you caught your boyfriend cheating on you.

⊹ My Love Is Here (series) Unrequited love to requited | s, f, a | @solemnreads ‣ You didn’t mean for it to happen. It’s not like you purposely woke up one day and thought “Hey I’m going to fall in love with my best friend!” No, that is not at all what happened.

⊹ I'll Stop Tomorrow Friends with benefits AU | s, a | @dreamyjoons ‣ You know it has to end.

⊹ Just A Taste Spring break AU | s, f | @cutechim ‣ “Your lips make me wonder what the rest of you would taste like.”

⊹ Flat Tire Established relationship AU | s, f | @ppersonna ‣ How do you pass the time when you’re stuck on the side of the road with your boyfriend, with a flat tire?

⊹ One Mistake (on-going) Idol!Tae & Cheating AU | a | @vamours ‣ it’s been three years since you and Taehyung had started dating. recently, you’ve started to notice changes in taehyung’s behavior towards you. with your four years anniversary only a few weeks away, you’ve come to discover the truth.

⊹ Akrasia Strangers to? | s | @nitaescence ‣ Basically two strangers fucking in a crowded bus.

⊹ Stepdad Taehyung Step!father au | s | @aris-ink ‣ "He was not touching himself right beside you. No, that was not possible"

⊹ Rock Bottom Idol Jimin AU | s, f, a | @jkbabiey ‣ When, in a four-year marriage, you get to the point where you question its worth, you know that’s your rock bottom. How many I’m sorry’s will you handle? How many times are too many times?

⊹ What's Poppin Established relationship AU, | f, s | @joonberriess ‣ Yoongi being the type to buy you a chain cause if he’s pimped out, his girl gotta be too.

⊹ Foundation - Part 01, 02, 03 feat Yoongi Non-idol doctors AU | f , s, a | @hamsterclaw ‣ You know Jungkook is a fuckboy. So why are you letting him fuck with you? Featuring Yoongi.

⊹ Looks so refreshed Idol AU | s | @kimnjss ‣ Friends with benefits is hard, but when he’s an international superstar… It’s much harder. So while you love his friends to death, spending the night holed up in his hotel room just sounds a lot more fun than a dinner party.

⊹ Friends (3TAN) Brother's best friend AU | f, s, a | @kithtaehyung ‣ The week you get with Yoongi has a few surprises. and one of them presents itself in the form of a phone call.

⊹ So it goes Friends with benefits (ish) AU | f , s | @prodagustd ‣  You and Yoongi have been hooking up, having dates and spending most of the week together for almost seven months. He was comfortable without a title, until the last two weeks, when you couldn't see him because of your busy schedule, Yoongi can't understand why he misses you so bad if your relationship is just sex to him. Or maybe he does, but he's too much of a coward to admit it..

⊹ Marry me, Yoongi Established relationship AU | f, s | @spideyjimin ‣ When Yoongi decides to get married in vegas after all the fan’s comments on the vlives.  

⊹ Amour Propre Established relationship AU | a | @randombtsprincessa ‣ Crumbling Relationship with one Min Yoongi

⊹ Blind Spot Established relationship AU | f, a | @randombtsprincessa ‣ Yoongi tries to win you back.

⊹Your Universe Rejection AU | f, a, s | @muniimyg ‣ Regretting rejecting oc, Min Yoongi goes through a circus load of gestures and tasks in attempt to be loved again

#my recs #jungkook fanfic #jimin fanfic #taehyung fanfic #yoongi fanfic #jungkook angst #jimin angst #yoongi angst #taehyung angst #jungkook smut #jimin smut #taehyung smut #yoongi smut #jungkook fluff #jimin fluff #taehyung fluff #yoongi fluff #bts fanfic #bts fic recs #bts recs #jungkook recs #jimin recs #taehyung recs #yoongi recs #jungkook drabble #taehyung drabble #yoongi drabble #jungkook imagine #jimin imagine #taehyung imagine

[archermind]

seen your post abt suggestions for a spencer reid fic, this has been marinating in my brain so pls bare with me. <3

spencer reid x aarons daughter! reader

maybe he forgets his lunch, and his daughter brings it in? or something along the lines of needing a tutor? ill take ANYTHING. bonus points if its fluffy and smutty

feel free to change anything!!!

-🃏

Arousal Theory

Spencer Reid x Aarons daughter!reader

Description: You are Aaron Hotchner’s only daughter. It is safe to say he is a little over protective of you. You have never been able to bring a guy friend home without your dad profiling them and scaring them away. The one guy he never thought to profile was his own co-worker, Spencer Reid. 

Word count: 2,500 approx.

Content Warning: fluff and light smut, light choking, hair pulling, fingering, small age gap.

y/n/n = your nickname

Author note: omgomg! I'm so glad someone sent this request in! Don't worry anonymous, I too have had this scenario brewing in my head. I loved your suggestion, thank you for submitting it! I hope i have done your idea justice <3

You hated your dads job. Mainly because he was too good at it. Every boy you were ever remotely friends with, you weren't anymore. All because of Aaron Hotchner. Each time you invited a guy to your house, your dad kicked into his professional shoes and took it upon himself to profile the poor boy. No guy was ever good enough for you or some of their characteristics unnerved Hotch.

This was the reason why at 22 years old, you still had never had any romantic relationship. The most romance you received lately was with a $20 lovehoney sex toy you bought in a valentines sale. Now that is romance. Your days were spent scrolling through tumblr, ao3 and erotic ebooks - yet every time after finishing the romance novel that piqued your current interest, you felt like sleeping on the highway. You couldn't help but think… ‘If this is my life at 22, I'm going to be the lonely old cat lady by the age of 25’.

It was a casual Saturday, you stood within the kitchen as your cat purred lapping in and out of your legs as you prepared her food. You weren’t really a sociable person. You mainly spent your days studying, preparing late dinners for your dad and caring for your cat - cookie. It was the main reason you didn't stay in dorms for college, you couldn't stand others. Other people your age were out drinking or hooking up. You just simply didn’t have the energy to go out to a party every week. 

Your feet padded along the tiled floor as you made your way to the fridge. Opening the door, you let out a gasp. Your dad had forgotten his lunch. The BAU day can get pretty long and you know your dad often gets so caught up in a case he forgets to eat. You grabbed the tub, a basic lunch packed inside of it. You lightly stifled a laugh, seeing your fathers poor excuse of a ‘nutritious’ lunch. Opening the tub you pulled out an apple, some crackers and cheese, along with a small sandwich. Enough to fill a five year old… not a hardworking, criminal catching 43 year old man. 

Luckily, you had cooked too much cheesy spinach pasta for lunch. You packed Hotch a generous amount. Before putting it into a lunch bag, grabbing your keys and heading out of the door. After two tries of twisting the ignition key for your car, it suddenly kicked into motion. With winter approaching, your old beat up car was struggling. The drive wasn’t too long fortunately. Getting a space in the small Quantico parking lot was your greatest problem.

You made your way through the reception area of the building, confidently walking towards the elevator. However, you were abruptly stopped in your tracks after seeing the ‘out of order’ sign. You sighed making your way over to the stairwell. You saw someone entering through the stairwell door and realized the doors to the stairs were key card accessed.

“HOLD THE DOOR PLEASE!” you yelled, running towards the boy who held the door. 

“Sorry, but you have to have an access card to be allowed through” the boy spoke, gesturing to his key card. 

You squint your eyes to read his name before responding with a coy smile. 

“Well actually… spencer.” you smiled at him, “i have to just quickly drop off my dads lunch, so could you be a sweetheart and just let me through?”

He shifted anxiously as you battered your eyelashes at him, trying your hardest to persuade the older boy. 

“I guess so..” he responded, looking your impatient demeanor up and down “what floor are you heading to?” 

“Floor four” you stated quickly as you rushed toward the steps, spencer hot on your trail

“That's good because I actually am too!” Spencer gleefully responded as you hummed in surprise. 

You were slightly short of breath by the time you reached the fourth floor. Spencer however was still just as energetic as before. All throughout the walk up the stairs, he rambled about which tourist attraction has the most steps in the U.S after you made a single complaint about the elevator being out of order. 

“Here we are,” spencer opened the door “who is your da-”

“Y/N/N?” Hotch exclaimed, coming up to you with his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. 

“Hey dad, I came here to bring you lunch… you forgot yours” you pointed out with a laugh

“Oh? I didn't realize” he gratefully took the tub from your grasp, “i see you have met Dr. Spencer Reid” 

You and Spencer both looked toward each other. You gave him a polite smile and then nodded sweetly to your dad. 

“I was just talking to Spencer this morning about how you could use his extensive knowledge to support you in your studies” he spoke confidently, yet.. You found yourself on the verge of protesting. As you opened your mouth, Hotch began again…

“He already said yes.”

Great.

You anxiously bit your nails and paced just behind the front door, awaiting the moment Spencer would knock. From the moment you both met, you thought he was handsome. The way his brown soft looking curls were all laid messy. The way his honey brown eyes stared focused on every point of your face, as you spoke. It made you want to know him more. Everything about Dr Spencer Reid intrigued you. 

A knock broke your train of thought- or more like your fantasy imagination about your dads Co-worker. It sent a shock through you. You shook your arms attempting to get rid of your nerves. It is just a 26 year old man coming to help you study. Nothing else… nothing more. You gave yourself one last look in the mirror to check if you looked good - to study of course

You death gripped the handle of the front door and pulled it open to see Spencer stood there. He wore a hat, gloves and scarf to help protect him from the cold brittle air. It made you feel terrible for leaving him that extra few minutes in the cold. You smiled at him, motioning him to come into your home. 

“Hotch told me you were studying psychology” he questioned, walking into the dining room. 

“Uh… yea i am” you followed him through to the dining room, “would you like a hot chocolate?” you questioned him.

“I actually don't like hot chocolate” Spencer stated, giving a soft smile to lessen the harsh deny of your polite gesture.

“Neither do i…” you bit your bottom lip as you looked at him blushing. “Coffee?”

“Please,” Spencer smiled. 

As you added the sugars into the coffees, you heard cookie meowing from the dining room. You grasped the coffees, making your way back to spencer. To your surprise Cookie had jumped onto Spencer's knee and began kneading his leg, purring. You placed the coffees down and laughed at her kitten-like attitude for Spencer, a random stranger. Until you saw how uncomfortable Reid was. You quickly shoo’d her off of him. 

Time passed, the studying was long and quite boring . Spencer helped you create numerous flash cards to help you study and you both went through them. While studying, small talk was going on - you enjoyed getting to know Spencer. He was such an interesting person that you wished to know him more and more, deeper and deeper. 

“I have an idea, for each question on these cards i guess right you get to ask me a question?” spencer suggested

You smirked in response, it was a good trade. He got to tutor me and I got to question him.

“Okay” you grinned

The questions were basic. ‘What is your favorite part of your job?’, ‘Who is your favorite co-worker?’, ‘what is your favorite book?’. You were actually making an effort in answering these silly little cards. However, you were never asking the questions you really wanted to ask… more about his personal life. 

“What is the arousal theory?” Reid asked

“to be the physiological state of being aware, alert, awake or attentive” you spoke confidently

“Correct!” he shouted

“Okay…” you spoke slowly and playfully

you thought long and hard about what you wanted to know about Spencer, your mind immediately going to the one and only thing you were desperate to know. Although it was wildly inappropriate to ask your dad’s co-worker, you just couldn't help yourself.

“Do you have a girlfriend?” you spoke mumbled and shy. 

“No.” he answered sharply, “do you- uh… have a boyfriend?” he blushed.

It was new year's eve and you were currently dressed in a silver satin dress. You felt confident but nervous as you stood beside your dad, hugging a tub of home baked cookies on the doorstep of Rossi’s house. He had invited hotch and you over to his annual new year party. You knew Spencer was going to be there hence why you dressed at your best.

Little to your fathers knowledge, you and Spence had grown closer and closer. Although you both were nothing serious. You could feel the tension between you both with every brush of your hands, sip of coffee and longing stare. You couldn't be more grateful for your weekly study sessions, you were gaining more marks on each essay and exam - all thanks to spencer. 

Walking into the party, you were engulfed in hugs from Hotch’s co-workers. Everyone was so kind. You listened to the group of friends laugh and joke. Yet, you couldn’t help but notice Spencer was missing from the large tight-knit group. You glanced around the room, in search of the man you were obsessed with. You couldn’t help but worry that he wasn't here at all. 

“I'm going to go grab a drink” you informed hotch before rushing off into the crowd. You were in search of a beverage and a smartass man who took up every inch of your thoughts. You pushed past small crowds making your way to the drinks table. Your eyes scanned the room, still no sign of Reid.

“You look beautiful Y/N” a voice whispered in your ear.

You jumped slightly at the hot breath on your neck sending shivers down your spine. You smiled instantly knowing exactly who it was behind you. You quickly spun around and threw your arms around his neck, giving him the tightest hug. He smelled good and you found yourself sinking further into his arms for longer. 

“Should we get away from the crowds” you asked him, looking up at him, remembering a discussion you had about his hate for big crowds during a study session. 

He nodded and swiftly guided you through Rossi’s home and up the stairs to a bathroom. You giggled as he closed and locked the door. You loved sneaking around to have some privacy for whatever it was going on between you both. It made you feel special and giddy for the tall boy who you had grown so close to. Spencer now towered over you as he stepped closer, placing his hands on your waist and lifting you onto the giant bathroom counter. 

The room was silent but the tension was thick. You licked your lips as they went dry from anticipation for anything to happen. You stared up at him as Spencer tucked a stray strand of hair that fell in front of your face behind your ear. You have never wanted a man more and it was a lot for you to admit. You felt vulnerable under his touch and gaze. You and Spencer searched in eachothers eyes, looking for any indication in each other's stare if you both felt the same way. 

You found yourself leaning into the temptation and to him. Spencer was quick to close the gap. You both kissed passionately and slowly, enjoying the moment that had been a long time coming. You smiled as he pulled away.

“I’ve wanted to do that for so long Y/N” he blushed at his confession

“I wish you didn’t wait so long Spence”

You kissed him again and felt his hand go to your neck, applying light pressure. You moaned at the contact. Slowly Spencer began to pepper kisses along your jawline. You hummed at his actions. You felt yourself grow with more need for him. Both of your breathing became heavy as your lust and want for each other grew stronger. You felt Spencer's hand trail up your thigh as his tongue played with yours in a heated make out. You pulled away and looked down as his hand grazed your clothed pussy. You were soaked for him and ready for his touch but so hesitant. You didn’t want this to be a one time thing, no matter how much you wanted this. 

“Is this okay Y/N?” Spencer questioned you concerned for the worried look you held in your expression.

“Yes Spencer p-please” you whined needy, pushing the negative thoughts away. 

Quickly Spencer pushed your panties aside, you gasped at the sudden touch of his cold fingers against your heat. He began stroking small circles on your clit causing your head to fall back from the pleasure. He bit back a smirk at the reaction you had for his touch. You whined as you felt a finger brush near your entrance.

“You have to be quiet baby” he spoke gently, shushing you before plunging his fingers into you.

You moaned in response and then Spencer clasped his spare hand over your mouth to try and muffle the reaction coming from you, not wanting your father and his boss to know what you both were getting up to in his co-workers bathroom. He kept the pumping of his fingers at a steady rhythm as his thumb massaged circles on your clit. Spencer's hot mouth went to your neck biting and sucking at the skin. It seemed your entire body was sensitive for him. Every touch, kiss, and word from him caused an elicit reaction. 

You began to ride his hand and fingers faster as you grew closer to your finish. While he sped up the thrusts of his fingers, you could hear the countdown to new year about to start. Spencer knew you were about to cum and instantly knew what he wanted from you.

“You only cum when i want you to” spencer growled his order into your ear 

 your legs and body began to shake from the overwhelming knot of pleasure in your stomach. Your body writhed and wriggled against the counter as his thumb applied pressure to your sensitive overstimulated clit. You were a mess, dripping with arousal. 

10… 9… 8… 7… 6… 5… 4… 3…

“Hold it Y/N!” Spencer grunted

2..

“Look at you such a good girl Y/N” he praised, stroking your hair out of your face but grabbing a fistful and pulling your head back to look at him….

1…

“Cum for me!” Spencer begged as he watched you come undone from his touch.

You whined from your climax. Trying your hardest to gain the full ability of your mind as it was going wild from your overstimulation. Spencer kissed your forehead as your chest heaved up and down. You smiled letting out a light laugh.

“Happy new year Spence” you smiled into his kiss

“What a way to come into the new year Y/N”

#criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #mgg fanfiction #mgg x reader #mgg imagine #doctor spencer reid #matthew gray gubler #mgg #dr spencer reid #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds fanfic #david rossi #derek morgan #penelope garcia #jennifer jareau #jason gideon #aaron hotchner #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotchner fic #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader

[bidisasterevankinard]

Wip Friday (Saturday)

Rules: Post up to five (5) filenames of your WIPs; not titles, file names.

Post a snippet from one of them. Snippet must be words you wrote in the last 7 days. We’re posting progress here. If you haven’t made any, go make some and come back to post!

After you’ve posted, people can send you an ask with one of your file names. You must then write 3 sentences in that file.

Tagged by @alyxmastershipper @911onabc

Thank you loves😘😘😘

File names:

Buck tattoo master

Vegas drunk marriage

little brother of best friend

6x18

Buck sold his soul for Eddie

part from little brother of best friend

"Can you imagine that they gave birth to Evan, just so that he would be my donor? How does he not hate me?” Dan speaks in a calm but sad tone, but Eddie sees sadness and anger in his eyes. 

He can understand both of these feelings. His parents have made him feel this way more than once, but he can't imagine them using him or one of his sisters to save the other.

“It's not your fault, Dan. Evan knows that. You were a child. There was nothing you could do.” Eddie knows what it's like to constantly blame himself, but he's telling the truth. It's not Dan's fault. “You couldn't control your illness and you couldn't know what they did. What they planned.

“Yeah, but sometimes I think Evan and Maddie would be better off if I died.” It sounds so quiet that Eddie barely hears it, but he hears it. He hears with what sadness and humility Dan says this and his blood runs cold in his veins. 

“Hey, don't say that. Especially when you consider that we are in a situation where people can start shooting at us at any moment. Should I worry about your choice to serve?” Eddie's not kidding. He knows that there are some people who were able to pass a psychological test for service when they shouldn't have. 

He wants to believe it's not about Dan. He should trust him to watch his back. And Eddie doesn't want to see Dan deliberately getting shot at at some point when they have to save other soldiers.

“No. No. I don't want to die, just,” Dan's voice sounds confident, but still sad. He sighs and says, “Evan deserved better from them. We all did.” 

And Eddie understands this better than anyone. 

He deserved better from his parents. He deserved a normal childhood and a father who came to his baseball games. He deserved parents who said, “We're proud of you, son,” not “You're not doing enough.” He deserved a father who would support his passion for dancing, and not punish him for running away at rehearsals.

He deserved praise for wanting to take care of his family, not ridicule and punishment when he was fucking ten. He was just so scared for his mother and unborn sister that he didn't think about the fact that driving cars was much more difficult than it seemed. He just wanted to take care of them like his father taught him, but it didn't work.

Eddie understands Dan's feelings, but he can also say that he had the better of them. He has it.

“And you got it. They gave you all the most important things. Each other. You have Maddie and Evan,” Eddie can tell from all of Dan's stories about his siblings that these two are very important to him. And Eddie can tell that Dan is important to them. Eddie catches Dan's blue eyes so that he knows he's telling the truth. 

“I'm sure they're happy to have a brother like you, too. Especially Evan. I would be very glad and proud to have a big brother like you. According to all your stories, you were a great protector and teacher for him. I'm sure he appreciates it.” 

Dan smiles a little, but Eddie can see from the creases on his face that he probably still doubts, but his posture becomes freer. 

“Thanks, Eddie. You're a great friend,” Dan speaks, and Eddie hears the honesty in his voice.

Eddie just nods. Now it's his turn to smile sadly, “Well, obviously better than a husband.” After this sentence, Eddie contorts his face, as he usually does, and both men laugh.

Eddie thinks that maybe he's found a friend who won't leave him.

Tagging : @usercowboy @jobairdxx @rose-buddie @ebdaydreamer @destielbuddiepipeline @honestlydarkprincess @diazass @loveyourownsmiilee @gaydiaz @buddierights @the-likesofus @rogerzsteven @swiftiediaz they have something to share (sorry if you've already posted)

#little brother of best friend wip #wip Friday #buddie #eddie diaz #evan buckley #buddie fic #evan buck buckley #daniel buckley

[jenatwork]

I feel like some major family drama is currently building up and I absolutely have to share it somewhere, but it's too long and convoluted to explain to anyone in-person, so.

Last week both my parents tested positive for covid. Mum's already had it three times, but this is the first time dad's had it. They're both multi-vaxed, so no real worries.

BUT.

1. We had plans to go for lunch today for dad's 70th birthday. I asked if they were going to postpone, and they said they'd both test again on Saturday (yesterday). They also told me, after I'd already agreed to going, that they'd invited my mum's friends, who I don't particularly like because they're racist (like, will use racial slurs level of racist). So I wasn't terribly bothered about postponing. Dad's birthday is on the 19th, so I can wait a few days.

BUT.

2. Saturday morning, I get a phone call to say that (a) mum is still testing positive, (b) dad hasn't tested because it will probably be positive, and (c) my grandmother is dying. Grandma has been ill for some time so this wasn't unexpected, and also she was a major contributor to my complex-ptsd and has a long history of being awful to lots of the family, so I am not the least bit sad. At this point, they're not sure if lunch is going ahead, because the table is pre-booked.

3. Saturday evening, I get another phone call to tell me that (a) grandma has died, (b) dad is still planning to go out for Sunday lunch because he's isolated for 5 days and the UK government advice says that's enough, and (b) mum isn't going to go because, you know, her mother just died. I tell mum to let me know if she needs anything from me, and then let my sister know that dad might need a nudge to be more attentive at home because he can't handle other people's emotions, then I remind myself that I'm not responsible for mediating anyone else's relationships and I switch off from it all.

4. I call my mother today to check in, and find out that they are both intending to go out for lunch with the racist family friends and my sister and her family. Remember that mum was still testing positive 24 hours ago. Dad is audibly coughing in the background while I talk to mum. I make no comment about them going out while clearly still ill, and ask mum to keep me posted on funeral arrangements. I remind them that I am supposed to travel for a big work conference next week, but may be able to take a day off if they need me for anything.

So.

Here's what I'm expecting.

At least one person at today's lunch will contact covid. If it's my sister or brother-in-law, there is a chance they may miss the funeral. If the funeral is any later than next Sunday, I might not be able to attend because of the big work conference (given my history with my grandma, I would absolutely choose work over her funeral, but I don't know if I can choose work over being available if my mother needs support, because dad has terrible communication skills and can't handle other people's emotions) but, as mentioned, there is a considerable chance my sister may contract covid, leaving me to be the responsible sibling, especially as also my mum's siblings may not attend the funeral as my uncle has avoided contact for the past couple of years for unknown reasons and my aunt was treated even worse by my grandma than I was.

I am immensely grateful that I live a full county away from my family and physically cannot travel up there at the drop of a hat.

#personal stuff

[kigozula]

Where you are, there I am - Sokkla Saturdays 2022

Day 5: Jealous and protective Sokka

You can also read here & here

Okay, I think I should say a thing or two. Today's story was very unplanned because originally I was supposed to post it as a oneshot independent on Sokkla Saturdays. But plans changed and after organizing my other entries, I decided today is a good day to post my oneshot. I admit the ending is rushed, because I didn't want it to be any longer.

Main part was supposed to be when Azula meets Sokka... by the glass that seperates them. I don't know but such a scene was in my head for a very long time. Last year a friend and I decided to write our own oneshots with the same prompt and I thought "hey, a good opportunity to test that scene!".

And yes, I think Brother Bear has just names that fit the world of Avatar especially the Water Tribes so well!! So here we go!=)

The gathering was never ending. Especially for Sokka, whose eyes were locked on Azula every now and then. Her eyes met his and as always the world seemed to stand still for them.

“The north is a mess. We'll need to plan our mission quickly. The rebels are growing day by day and they will stop at nothing until they invade our homeland” Hakoda explained, “The King in the north is still in his illness sleep and if he doesn’t wake up soon, his son who replaces him for the time being, won’t stop this mess. He is nothing like the King.” The Chief of the southern water tribe was worried.

Azula listened to him halfheartedly since she was feeling Sokka’s  gaze still linger on her figure.

Being the ambassador of her father, she partly lived here for weeks now. Beforehand Sokka was the ambassador of his tribe in the fire nation. Everyone was aware of the tension between them. There were clearly deep emotions, that much was clear to the world around them. But they never acted out on their feelings for each other.

“Maybe Princess Azula should marry the Prince of the northern water tribe.”

“No!” tearing his eyes away from Azula, Sokka interrupted immediately and harshly.

Everyone at large tent looked at him.

As if his no would be final. No discussion would be necessary, because he would stop at nothing if anyone dared to think about this pathetic proposal ever again.

“That's the only sol…”

“I said no!” he retorted “Such thing will never happen!”

“Neither Azula nor Katara will do such a thing. I never want to hear this again. We are not sacrificing anyone like this, especially not women.” Hakoda added.

“Do you believe this would be a solution to stop the rebels?” Azula asked interrupting them.

The situation was serious she knew. And of course, she would never do anything without her own will. Nor was such a suggestion ever made. Part of her intention with the question was to see Sokka’s reaction. Her thought was spot on because his already short temper was growing worse. He was slowly but surely going mad, standing at the verge of his nerves.

He turned to her again seriously and clearly unpleased, with an angry growl on his face.

“It's just an idea.” She turned to Sokka with that. His serious blue eyes were appealing. And they we're clearly sending her a message saying “Don't even think about it! Don’t mess with me!”

“We won't do that Princess Azula. I will not allow anyone to sacrifice themselves like this for those rebels.” Hakoda told her. Then he turned towards the others “I have some ideas. But for now, I want to talk with Bato alone.”

Everyone was already leaving the tent except for one person. Sokka walked to the chief, clearly troubled still.

“Father”

“Sokka, I already told everyone: we won't allow such a thing of course, don’t worry son.” His father replied. “I assumed the north might want to benefit from the fire na…”

“They would have to go through me because never will I allow such a thing!” Sokka spoke harshly

“I know and neither will we”

“Father I made up my mind”

Azula was standing at the entrance of the tent and didn't leave it either, listening to every word Sokka spoke.

“I'm going to sail to kyoshi island with my warrior friends. We'll fight and be done with the rebels. We’ll crash down their settlement at kyoshi island and show that heartless Prince that we will never back down!”

Hakoda expected his son to make a hasty decision since Sokka was brave and tired of this. Yet he couldn't help but still be taken aback a bit.

“Sokka this is too unplanned”

“It is, yes but we have to try. It’ll be worth it. Father I'm done I want peace I want freedom I want to be finally happy with Az…”

“I will come with my soldiers too we're joining you” Azula suddenly interrupted. the gazes of father and son turned to her abruptly. She strode closer to them.

Sokka’s body turned fully towards her.

“Azula I need to solve this matter alone you were at too much risk already, I want you to stay safe.”

“Princess” Hakoda continued “we are well aware of your leading qualities, and we appreciate how capable you are. But you are their enemy too we cannot risk it. Neither your father would want to risk it.

Before the conversation could go on a soldier called for Azula and Hakoda. A message from the fire nation arrived. Sokka’s gaze lingered on Azula while she walked towards the entrance.

................................................................................................

Sokka had gathered his friends the evening before. They made the plan before Sokka even told anything to his father. Setting the plan in motion tonight before dawn broke was the goal. Their preparations were almost ready. His thoughts and his mind full of her. She was everything to him. He smiled while he remembered her beautiful face. Surely the day neared where they would never separate again and where they would live happily forever.

He was determined to not bring her with him. She would be angry yes, but she already has done so many things and he would definitely not risk her life any longer. The rebels would also target for her too since she is the daughter of the Fire Lord.

He walked to her tent.

It shouldn't come as a surprise that she was outside as well, probably looking for him. Azula also knew that if Sokka was determinate, he would go through it. He was so obsessed with keeping her safe that he would just go, leaving her behind if it meant no harm would come to her.

Despite the unpleased glare she sent Sokka’s way, her expression softened when he came closer and gave her a warm smile.

“Were you looking for me Princess?” he asked playfully.

“I know that your ship is already ready, and you plan on going tonight without me.” she said.

His smile faded.

“Sokka, this isn't okay. We are a team and they're Fire Nation's enemies as well, I'll come with you. I won't just sit back.” Her eyebrows narrowed so did his.

“I don't want to separate from you a second, but we need to put an end to this Azula. This will end without any harm I promise. And you know I always do keep my promises to you” he gave her a heartfelt smile.

She tried to stand by her points without falling for his beautiful smile.

“You said it: “we” need to put an end to this. If you won't let me join you” she continued.

“Azula it's not that I do not…”

“Then maybe I can marry the Prince and end it my way!”

“Stop it! It's not a joke and it's not fun!” he was angry

“Who said it’s a joke?!”

“Azula!”

They didn't realize that they were inching closer while they were talking. As ever.

For a moment both of them fell silent.

Was it so hard to say the word? To say I'm in love with you? What made it so hard to hug each other tightly, kiss those lips and be two against the world? Both knew the burden would be lifted upon their shoulders if they gave in their feelings. But the pain? With the pain in their hearts that insert the other, would all the other pain be gone too? For that would be only possible if both of them were feeling the same way for each other. If they both would be completely sure the other was feeling the same deep love, same intense emotions. If only their lips would utter the words the way their eyes were screaming with love and passion.

“So, you'll go and risk your life just like that? Good! Do that then good luck!”

He looked at her with pain in his eyes. She was emotional she really was. Both of them tried to protect each other. Before tears could flow out of her eyes she turned around to leave, but he stopped her by pulling her forearm towards him. So that her face was really close to his. So that the only thing she could see were his sincere and burning eyes.

“There is nothing I wouldn't do to keep you safe!”

Their faces only inches away, breathing heavily against lips.

“Sokka, we start our walk to the boats now.” Koda, son of Bato and good friend of both Azula and Sokka interrupted the moment.

Azula freed her arm out of his soft grip and started to walk first. Sokka huffed and turned to give Koda a nod.

Sokka decided it would be better for Koda to stay in the tribe alongside Azula. If only he knew…

As displeased as she was with his plan, she still accompanied them to the cold shore. To see him one last time before he sailed away to Kyoshi Island. Sokka innerly knew that was why she waited outside the whole time. Both knew the other very well.

“It’s too cold Azula. Don’t stay outside for too long.” Here he was again. Always caring for her. Always trying to protect her from any possible harm. “You’re a firebender after all.” His compassionate smile turned into a smirk.

Azula said nothing, and his smirk vanished.

After a short time of hesitation, they leaned forward and hugged each other tightly.

“Be careful fool.” She muttered into his shoulder.

He giggled silently. “I will my Princess.”

They broke the hug, but his arms lingered on her upper arms. Hers on his chest.

“Don’t tell them you knew of my plan. Father will get angry, but I’m sure he will understand.” Sokka said.

“Don’t tell me what to do.” Azula said smirking.

One last hug and then he climbed onto the huge boat.

“It’s dark Azula. Get back into the igloo.” He whispered loudly.

“Haven’t I told you not to tell me what to do?” she said in her usual tone. Sokka smiled at that.

Despite herself, she turned around with Koda and started walking towards the village.

Sokka watched until he couldn’t see them in the dark anymore. He smiled sadly. They’re going to reunite. Happy days are waiting for them he knew. He would propose to her. He would spend all his time next to the woman he loved more than his own life…

Unbeknownst to Sokka and his warriors on the boat, Azula and Koda hid before even entering the village. When the boat was out of sight, Azula gave Koda a meaningful look.

“Azula…” Koda huffed “You both are stubborn you know? Must you always do what you want to do instead of sitting back once?”

“Yes Koda!” Azula said. “Now get the boat, we shouldn’t waste any more time.”

Koda let out a groan but did as they planned. Azula smiled at her annoyed friend.

................................................................................................

The arrival already started with a disaster. Citizens on kyoshi island prepared a fight too. After Sokka's group arrived they joined them.

The rebels weren't a big group yet their determination and believe that the northern prince stood behind them gave them a confidence that was actually scary.

Yet what reached the island next shocked and angered Sokka more: Azula and Koda ran to join the fight as well.

All plans flew down the stream because no one expected people on kyoshi island to form a resistance, which was great but unexpected.

His sword on one hand and his club on the other Sokka fought his way through the rebels.

"Azula, what are you doing here!" he yelled.

Azula, the best firebender he ever saw, looked even beautiful in the midst of the fight.

"Did you really believe I would just stay behind and accept you leaving me?" she yelled back for him to hear her. It wasn't easy to fight and talk.

"What the..." he let out a growl while hitting his club on the neck of one of his enemies "I didn't leave you! I want to protect you and keep you safe!"

Escalation was on sight when the rebels proved to be very efficient. Azula and Sokka couldn't see each other anymore.

Sokka was known to be a strong and an almost undefeatable warrior. Yet with so many enemies on the battlefield it was difficult. He was caught, and in the heat of the big fight his team and Azula didn't notice it immediately.

The rebels who weren't harmed backed down suddenly. Their leader gave Azula and Sokka's team a smirk and vanished with the rest.

She had a bad feeling. A very bad one. She turned everywhere, her eyes searching for one person.

"Where is Sokka?"

................................................................................................

The rebels kept Sokka locked in their settlements prison. Sokka heard them talking worriedly but couldn't hear what it was exactly. Did the northern king wake up maybe? He surely hoped so. It would be a final solution to free the world from those rebels.

A day later Sokka seemed to slowly lose his temper. There was no way of getting out of this cell room. Unlike other cells, there were no railings just a glass wall.

What happened to Azula? And his team? Were they safe? If anything happened to them especially if anything happened to Azula he would burn the whole world down and never forgive himself for being unable to protect her.

The door to the prison opened up suddenly and Azula came in with a black cloak.

„Azula” he almost yelled and ran to the icy glass. She had tears in her amber eyes. Tears that made her already beautiful eyes shine even brighter. Eyes that melt the heart of everyone that would look into them. She put her hands on the glass.

“Sokka” she managed to utter which made him desperate to break the ice and hug her.

„ What are you doing here you must go Azula if they see you…”

“I missed you” tears fell through her cheeks. Sokka tried to hold back. He really tried hard. But he was only strong enough not to cry as hard as she did.

“I missed you too Azula. All I think is you. Everything I do indeed has always been first and foremost for you, you know what that right? Shhh don't cry” he brought his lips tenderly to the icy glass and kissed her palm and fingers.

Azula stopped crying for a moment taken aback as she was. Only to form new tears. He put his forehead on the glass and gave her a sad smile encouraging her that everything would be fine soon.

“I want to keep you safe too you know.” She said putting her forehead against the ice wall too. Linking their foreheads separated by the cruel wall and Sokka’s smile grew at that.

“Soon we'll be together again. And then we can't be tear it apart ever ag…”

He couldn't finish his words when he heard footsteps. It could be anyone and Azula was standing there. Yes she was strong and the best bender ever, but it was still too risky. Panic rose immediately within his chest. As well I just looked at the direction the sound came from sniffing.

“Azula you have to go now!” Sokka told her desperately.

“No!” she shook her head.

“Azula!” he narrowed his eyes now “Please go Azula it's too risky!”

“No Sokka! I can't leave you here” looking at their situation “I can’t leave you like this!”

“Azula I promise I'll be free it won't be long before we are together again. But now please go. They'll catch you too I won't allow that Azula!”

“Sokka” was all the came out, with a shaky breath and tears that ran over her face by now.

“Azula” the new voice, calling her through a whisper made them spin their heads towards where it came from.

Koda, Sokka’s friend who had accompanied her to cell room.

“We need to leave now” he softly held her arm and tried to take her outside carefully.

“Koda I can’t…” Azula started.

“Azula, northern soldiers are coming towards this building.”

“Azula, go with him now. I’m going to come to you very soon.” Sokka said. The determination in his voice and his eyes partly convinced her.

Sokka and Koda exchanged a meaningful glance and both nodded. Sokka knew Azula was safe with his friend.

His turned his gaze to Azula now who was looking at him sadly. she started walking leaving one hand at the glass. soccer walked with them side by side his hands also on the glass. until they looked into each other's eyes one last time. Until they touched through the icy glass one last time. Azula slowly let go. Slowly turned around and walked away with Koda by her side.

Sokka stood there for a minute. eyes closed hands still on the glass. He turned around screamed with anger and gave the wall a hard punch. 

Half an hour later, northern soldiers arrived and let Sokka leave. He wanted to ask questions, but he ran. Ran as fast as he could. Outside, people were looking relieved.

But he was done with everything. He was done with war and heartless people. He was tired of fighting and trying to help other's and burry what he truly wanted and needed in his heart with hope that one day the world would allow him to live the way he wanted: Live with the woman he loved! Keep her in his arms forever.

It wasn't long before he saw her running towards him too. Her hair waving. Azula was feeling the exact same things. She wanted to leave a peaceful life with the man she loved, with Sokka. They could barely take time for themselves and their needs.

A powerful crush of hug. Heavy breathing. Laugh and tears. It wasn't only that Sokka was free. It was a step, a decision to give in each other that made them so desperate. Sokka kissed her cheek and her lips lingered on it longer.

After a while, an admiral from the northern water tribe gave a speech. The king regained his health and woke up. He took the throne again and ordered all rebels to take as prisoners. They were their people who choose a wrong way. So, the final deal would be for the northern water tribe to take.

................................................................................................

Sailing back to their tribe was the original plan, but Azula and Sokka decided to take a smaller boat and go to whale tail island. Sokka proposed to Azula on the boat which she accepted without hesitation, I love you's were exchanged finally. Relieve, peace and love accompanied them for two weeks.

They decided to spend time without anyone else, like a honeymoon before the wedding. They decided against two weddings - a fire nation and water tribe one. Preparations were done and they settled for a smaller wedding that took place on whale tale island.

Happy days were waiting for them...

#sokkla #sokkla saturdays 2022 #Azula #Sokka #I struggled with this one tbh #and I found out that I have the grandula fever... at least now I know what felt so wrong since weeks =‚) #it's because I started writing it MONTHS ago #I took too many breaks and lost orientation a bit xD #but I hope you guys understand where this is going;)) and thanks for reading!

[theartistknownaslymond]

As yet untitled Jerott/Danny...something. Flungst? Angff?

Still not writing anything anyone actually asked me for smh...

Setting: post-Checkmate by four or five years, so early-mid-'90s

Characters: Jerott Blyth, Danny Hislop

Background (for more on the characters in the band AU, see notes at the end of the fic): During his relationship with Peder, Jerott got accustomed to travelling to Denmark via Paris - it made the journey longer but it was an opportunity to see his mum and to catch up with Danny. Danny helped him navigate his first openly queer relationship and was there to try and help Jerott not relapse too badly when he broke up with Peder. Even though Jerott doesn't need to go to Paris so often now, he still does - just for a few days every couple of months - so he can see his mother and see Danny and maybe record some music with Danny or play a couple of gigs. The vibe is Married and they just don't know it - but Jerott always seems to have some pretty young thing he's dating after meeting them at a movie premier or something, so Danny figures they just don't stand a chance. It's really just never occurred to Jerott that Danny would be interested in him because surely Danny is far too wordly and experienced to think of Jerott like that.

They do not get together in this fic, but the idea is that it can't be too long afterwards tbh.

CWs: reference to severe weight loss from illness; references to the AIDS pandemic and deaths, plus associated horrors (families not letting friends grieve, doctors not wanting to touch patients, general relentless misery of losing so many people/worrying about the obituaries). Also gratuitous descriptions of food.

---

Outside the metro station, Jerott slung an arm over Danny's shoulder and pressed his friend close for a hug. As he turned his face to present each cheek for Danny's kisses and suppressed a cough at the cloud of Chanel he was greeted with, he noticed the difference in the body beneath his hold.

"Alright - Jesus you're skinny, Danny!" he pulled back and let his hand remain on the shoulder of his friend's jacket, squeezing gently to confirm the contours he'd felt - bone and sinew far closer to the surface than he remembered.

Danny tossed their chin and twitched an eyebrow, grey eyes dark and hooded. "Oh, merci, he's in early with the compliments this time. What have you done now, doudou?"

Jerott studied Danny more closely: they were immaculately styled as always, but the silk blouse and the corduroy waistcoat beneath Danny's jacket hung unevenly against their body, implying a rumpled and gappy silhouette beneath the folds of the Burberry trenchcoat. The lines around the top of their voluminous trousers hinted at a belt cinched tighter than the fabric had been tailored for. Danny's face was sharper than Jerott remembered, too: the jaw almost uncompromisingly square, cheeks a little hollow beneath a subtle hint of pink blush.

"It wasn't a compliment..." Jerott said with the frankness that Danny expected of him. "You look like shit. What's up?"

Danny's brows shot up at Jerott's pronouncement and they looked down at him with a half-vexed smirk. "I look like shit?"

"You look like shit," Jerott nodded.

It was guaranteed to get a rise, and thus guaranteed to provoke some measure of honesty. Besides, even if it wasn't entirely true - Danny could have styled a Saturday morning midden outside a chip shop into something quirky and compelling - it was still true that Jerott preferred to see Danny with softer edges, more of a curious, assessing twinkle in their eye, more warmth beneath the pale tones of their skin. In general - healthier. It was a natural way to feel about one's friend, Jerott supposed.

Danny's eyes narrowed and their shoulder moved a little beneath Jerott's touch. Their lips - a natural pink that looked too pale, especially when one was used to Danny's array of neon-bright lipsticks - pursed a little and finally, shortly, Danny replied, "I've been ill. I'm fine now, thank you for your concern."

Jerott's hand tightened on Danny's shoulder again and his jaw shifted. He didn't manage to get a word out before Danny added, "It's not that. It's not. I've had so much blood taken for tests I don't think I'd feed a midge. I'm fine now, really Jerott."

Jerott noted that his heart had quickened anyway - he'd heard from Francis that Turkey had recently taken a turn for the worse as the weather cooled; he'd had Dagbladet Børsen delivered to his newsagent in Glasgow for several years now and he read the obituaries in a state of suppressed terror once a week, faithful to people he no longer knew, sometimes catching himself praying to distant gods that he wouldn't read a name he recognised there. He regretted the scientific understanding that had almost led him into a different career and now called him to spend sleepless nights poring over articles in medical journals, because it was that or give in to the whiskey again.

He swallowed and made himself take a deep breath - he'd not realised how much worry he attached to Danny and their defiant, flamboyant Marais lifestyle in the present context. But there, for a moment, he'd felt like the street had opened up beneath his feet and the air had turned to hot ash in his lungs.

"Ok. Good. What was it then?"

Danny's eyes had widened again and light seemed to have returned to their pale irises. They smiled crookedly, but it was more fond than defensive now. "Believe me, doudou, you don't want the details. Just some bug." Danny turned away and began walking down the pavement, strolling slowly enough that Jerott had time to light a cigarette and catch up.

"Some bug?" he repeated in a mutter around his filter, making a show of returning his fags and his lighter to his jacket pockets and wondering whether Danny had noticed how worried he'd been, or if he'd managed to hide it.

"Mm," Danny agreed, gazing performatively up at the rooftops of the buildings they passed and ignoring the odd cry of recognition from passers by. "Not helped, of course, by the fact that half the people I know do have it. I'm so bored of funerals, Jerott. Stressed and tired and literally sick of them."

Jerott took an involuntarily sharp inhalation and coughed at the way the smoke prickled in his throat. He grimaced and glared at the pavement, and decided, savagely, that he needed to do something about this - he'd never once in the years they'd known each other heard Danny's voice thrum with such brittle rage.

"You know what, Danny? Screw the market. There's a place yemma and I always eat at not far from here. I'm taking you there to get some proper food in you."

Danny stopped walking and blinked at him with limpid eyes. "Excuse me?"

"Algerian. Tagine, couscous, dips, bread?"

Danny still looked like they were trying to figure something out, but Jerott's brows rose and he pointed at the front of their waistcoat. A distinct growl had emerged from that flat belly at the mention of bread. "I heard that. Come on - we can go to the market afterwards."

Danny's frown deepened and they pressed their lips together, but then they nodded and shrugged. "Yeah. Yeah ok, lead on." Their voice sounded somewhat strangled to Jerott, like there was some undefined emotion trying to escape Danny's fearsome, formidable control over it.

Two silent streets later, when Jerott had finished his cigarette, Danny sounded more like themselves again: "So, will I finally get to meet dear yemma there?"

"No," Jerott eyed Danny and smiled knowingly. "Kahina doesn't just...hang around in cafés, Danny. We eat here together when she's visiting family in the dixneuvième."

"Ugh, then what's the point?" Danny exclaimed dramatically. "You want me to believe you sprang fully formed from the brutalist architecture, doudou, but the woman who made you what you are exists somewhere in Paris, and one day I will meet her!"

Jerott smirked tolerantly and stepped into the entrance of a building to hold the door open for his friend. "The point is -"

He didn't need to finish, as Danny's hands were clasped against their chest and they were already exclaiming rapturously as they walked into the restaurant: "Oh, do you smell that?"

The owner, recognising Jerott, approached to make small talk about his mother, and Danny listened thirstily, totally unconcerned by the proprietor's less-than-subtle attempts to suss out their identity. They introduced themself with a shark-like grin and shook the owner's hand: «Danny. I'm Jerott's friend.»

Jerott closed his eyes briefly and sighed at the effortless way Danny fudged the pronunciation of the word ami(e), so that it might even have been any one of several similar terms meaning lover or darling. He rubbed the bridge of his nose with his fingers and smiled stiffly at the owner. «Danny's in the band I play in. Danny knows Lymond and played in Russia with him.»

The owner nodded and attempted his own, reassured, smile, and he did not flinch from Danny's enthusiastic handshake. «Another...» he had been about to say 'musician' Jerott supposed, but ran instantly into another question of conjugation. His moustache twitched. «You play an instrument, like Sidi Blyth. How nice. What do you play?»

«All sorts,» Danny chirped happily. «I like synthesisers, but woodwind is my first love.» Their eyes roved over the decor of the restaurant, past rugs and lamps to seek out the guitars and percussion instruments the owners had salvaged when fleeing their home and now displayed in pride of place. «You don't have woodwind instruments here?» Danny gestured to the wall.

«No,» the owner answered with some relief. He showed them to the table upstairs that Jerott usually shared with his mother.

Over mint tea, as they waited for the selection of dishes Jerott had ordered, Jerott watched Danny gaze out of the window to the other side of the street, their long, freckled fingers tapping on the tablecloth in time with the frantic beat of the music playing from a cassette deck in the corner of the room. The midday autumn light was drawn to the crystal pendant of Danny's earring, and faint spots of rainbow colour were cast in fragments across Danny's cheek. It occurred to Jerott all over again how tiresome it was that anyone bothered trying to define Danny - once he'd learned a way of speaking around the need for masculine or feminine conjugations, Jerott had soon forgotten how clunky he'd found it to begin with. He'd simply become used to Danny as a singular aspect of the world - language rearranged itself around Danny, and Jerott saw no reason why it shouldn't.

Generally, though, Danny didn't care what pronouns strangers used. Danny had made their resilience and self-awareness key aspects of their personality, and Jerott reminded himself that Danny was steely enough to have survived being perceived - in whatever way they had been perceived - by Soviet Russia.

But sometimes, Jerott had begun to realise, the carefully constructed armoury of Danny's identity grew heavy in the face of others' engagement with it. And now Danny did look drawn - bruised by recent sadnesses, nervy about what might come next, both younger and older than Jerott had seen them look.

"Have you had Algerian before, Danny?" Jerott asked, summoning Danny's attention away from the flock of pigeons on the opposite building's roof.

Danny smiled fleetingly and took a sip of tea, then paused to look Jerott over with a more customary, lascivious flick of their lashes. "Not for want of trying..."

Jerott rolled his eyes. "How have you lived in Paris for over a decade and never tried Algerian food?"

"Maybe I've just been waiting for a recommendation from an expert," Danny said snippily. "You always did curries back when we were recording Checkmate. You could have made...this..."

Danny's eyes lit on the food that was arriving and between them, Jerott and the restaurateur explained the dishes as they filled the surface of the table.

"I didn't have much experience cooking Algerian then," Jerott said, helping himself to bread and pickled vegetables. "Curry in Glasgow, curry in Pune, curry in Nevada - with so little seasoning it might as well have been rice pudding..." he trailed off, muttering imprecations in Urdu.

Danny folded their arms and watched him. "So which one of these innocent-looking beauties is going to blow my poor Ashkenazi ass off?"

Jerott pulled a face and bit on a pickled chilli. "They're not hot, Danny, they just have flavour." He pointed out the dishes he knew how to make and explained what was in them and Danny dutifully helped themselves to some of each. Danny loved to make a show of bitching, but they were also eager to express their appreciation: every first bite was accompanied by a moan of delight or some other sound that made Jerott want to kick them under the table. Eventually he gave into the desire and prodded Danny's leg with the toe of his sneaker.

"All right, Meg Ryan - you can just tell the restaurant owner you like it..."

Danny wiped a drizzle of paprika-red oil from the corner of their lips and pulled an exaggeratedly lusty face at Jerott before kicking him back. Then Danny sat back and chewed pitta, watching Jerott's expression and preparing their review.

"It's good, Maeve. Like some of Adam's funky Georgian dishes but..."

"Less walnut?"

"Less walnut," Danny agreed, sipping tea. "It's not as rich as I thought, either. Good choice of comfort food, doudou," Danny surveyed the bowls again and dove in for more helpings of a few select items.

Jerott watched Danny load their plate up and smirked with satisfaction. "Just because it has more seasoning than chicken soup..."

Danny held a finger up. "You do not get to insult Jewish penicillin, no matter how delicious your fancy beans are."

Jerott giggled into his bite of borek and repeated, "Fancy beans..." so that Danny kicked him again.

When the owner had taken away the empty starter bowls and refilled the tea, Jerott looked again at Danny's face in the shifting afternoon light. It seemed to have taken on a new colour - their lips looked redder again, their cheeks brighter, their eyes less like the washed-out grey of the few low clouds outside.

Jerott raised his glass of tea in a salute. "Well, the fancy beans seem to have done more for you in one sitting than however many weeks of chicken soup you've been living off..."

Instead of a filthy rejoinder, Danny pressed their mouth shut and looked away. "Mm."

"Danny, I was just -" Jerott began to apologise, surprised by the frown on his friend's face.

"I know, I know," Danny attempted a breathy chuckle. "It's fine. It...would be fine, only -" they looked down at the exuberantly patterned table covering and traced the patterns on its surface with one short, un-painted fingernail. When they looked up at Jerott the deep, serious pain on their face was such that Jerott hadn't seen since Francis' near-fatal encounter with the river.

"I'm the one who makes the soup," Danny said. The attempt at levity in their voice made Jerott's chest tighten more than if Danny had just let themselves speak bitterly. Instead, the lightness in their voice faltered and stumbled, and Danny swallowed. "Ok, Diamme - you remember, from the cabaret? - Diamme brought me soup and pletzls from the deli when I first got ill, but he shouldn't have been outside himself. Diamme's funeral was last week. The rest of us couldn't attend - the family wouldn't have any of it. They gave him a good Catholic burial. So we're holding our own wake next week and I need to cook for it. I promised I would."

Danny's arm was shaking a little on the table, their fist clenched. They looked down at it and moved it beneath the table, letting out a tut of disgust.

Jerott sat in silence, his arms folded and jaw locked, remembering again all the horror of that moment when he'd imagined that Danny had the illness. The only illness that mattered those days. Anything else was trivial, wasn't it?

"I haven't cooked for myself in months, Jerott," Danny let their eyes fall blankly to the tablecloth. "I'm a catering service for wakes and funerals. Meals on wheels for people who used to be..." nothing seemed to change about Danny's expression or the tone of their voice, but an invisible barrier blocked any more words from emerging.

"Why didn't you say something?" Jerott murmured, sitting as still as Danny, noting that he could barely hear his own words over the hammering beat of his heart. "How many times have we spoken on the phone since you got ill?"

Danny looked up and met his eyes, and, glassy and wide-pupilled, their own grey gaze made Jerott shiver. A bleak laugh made it past their lips. "What, you'd deliver from Glasgow?"

Jerott didn't understand how talking with Danny could so often make him want to laugh and weep at the same time, but he gave Danny a perplexed smile all the same. "Sure. I'm serious though, Danny - you could have told me. It's no hassle to come to Paris and help you cook."

Danny bit their lip and looked down again, wresting with a smile or a grimace - Jerott couldn't say which.

When the restaurant owner returned to their silence he looked alarmed and Jerott tried to smile in reassurance as the man set down hot dishes of stewed aubergine and tomatoes, chicken, olives and dumplings.

«Is everything ok?»

«M'sieur it's perfect,» Danny looked up swiftly, their throat white as a swan's, drawing Jerott's troubled gaze as Danny swallowed down their grief again and smiled for the owner. «My first time trying Algerian food and it's better than I could have imagined. Restorative and delicious.»

The owner left again, somewhat mollified, and Danny turned a wonky smile on Jerott. "Do you think he believes me, Maeve? Have I ruined it for when you come back here with yemma?"

Jerott shook his head. "He believes you. Nothing ruined."

Danny sighed and leaned forwards on the table to survey the new dishes.

"Danny," Jerott was thinking about the way Danny's demeanour had switched for the restaurant owner. About the performative body language and cheerful lilt to their voice. About the things Danny was used to hiding. "You didn't even tell me you were ill. Why didn't you say anything?"

Danny was slowly pulling apart one of the chicken wings they'd plucked from the top of the tagine, their mouth pressed into a sharp line, the look they shot Jerott an attempt to make him back off that was half-hearted at best. "I didn't think I'd be ill that long. Do you tell me every time you get the sniffles, doudou?"

Danny didn't let him reply - they rolled their eyes and swept a hand through the air. "Yes, yes, you do, I know...always complaining about something..."

Jerott ignored the toothless attack and waited.

Danny spooned a heap of olives and dumplings onto their plate and gathered some bread before looking up at Jerott again.

"I didn't want to tell you because it's been miserable here, doudou." Danny's fist clenched on the table beside their plate. "I feel...responsible? When you were with Peder and you started telling me things, I was...I felt like your guide to this wonderful world where anything was possible, anyone was welcome, and if we all just talked it out and understood each other things would be ok. Better than ok, they'd be mind-blowing. Amazing. Earth-shattering."

Danny rolled their eyes at their own words, and Jerott contrasted their pale, pinched expression now with the way they used to lean across café tables and excitedly demand details of the Copenhagen queer scene. They way they'd grab Jerott's hand and shamelessly reel off advice filled with clinically precise vocabulary that had made Jerott's mind reel with possibilities he'd never even imagined. Their smile - proud, filthy - when Jerott chose to report back on a weekend spent with Peder, and the way they'd regale him in turn with tales of leather daddies and kink clubs that left Jerott speechless and perched on the edge of his seat.

Danny shook their head and the gems dangling from their ears swung and twinkled in the sun again. "I feel like I sold you a lie, doudou. We've talked it out here so much and none of us have anything to say any more. We can't talk our way out of death. There's no understanding it, or making meaning of it. It's unfair, and it just is."

Jerott held Danny's gaze, and felt something icy and uncomfortable squirm in his chest. Danny didn't even look on the verge of tears now, their expression was suffused with frosty, brittle fury, something that wasn't nearly as hopeless as the image they were trying to conjure. Hopeless people, in Jerott's experience, weren't near as angry as Danny clearly was.

He took a deep breath and nodded. "Ok. I mean, I don't regret...what did you call it? Joining this 'wonderful world' - and I'd have shagged Peder with or without your advice Danny, no offence."

Danny's jaw twitched and a startled flush of colour spread over their neck above the collar of their blouse.

Jerott pressed on, unable to offer any answer to the bigger questions, but still stung by the idea of Danny forcing themself to suffer stoically in case actually saying anything about how bad things were frightened Jerott off. "Do you regret it? Would you go back to...where were you when you found your people, London? Edinburgh? Would you leave them, go back to Glasgow and put a suit on and do what your dad wanted you to do? If you'd known about AIDS?"

A flash of annoyance passed over Danny's face again - maybe at the mention of their father, maybe at the mention of the disease by name, maybe at the realisation that they'd shared quite so much about their past with Jerott over the years - enough to allow Jerott to ask a question like that.

"I can't regret what I just am, Jerott," Danny said curtly.

"So why do you think I would, if you'd told me how bad things had got here?"

Danny hissed, drawing a sharp breath in over their teeth. Now there was a glossy sheen over their eyes, and they tried very hard not to blink. "M'sorry," they murmured after a moment.

"Yeah. I know," Jerott said gruffly and broke their stare, looking down at the dishes cooling between them and giving Danny the privacy of a moment to flick away the water gathering at the bottom of their eyes. He explained the tagines again and then helped himself to some of each before letting out a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding and raising his eyes again.

Danny had returned to pulling apart the piece of chicken and they sighed deeply before saying, resentfully, "I can't believe you used my own tricks on me. I've taught you too well."

"I can't believe you 'talked it out' with everyone except me, you asshole," Jerott grumbled, but he smiled ruefully at his dish as he dunked bread in the sauce.

"To be fair, I also didn't tell Francis," Danny said in a voice more like their own, and Jerott had to snort with laughter. "Can you imagine? He'd have set up a Michelin-starred restaurant for my little crowd of queers and misfits. BDSM and brunch bar. Kink and croissants. Attached to an empty hospital building where the infected can get treated by all the experts we can find who are willing to touch our dirty, dirty bodies..."

Again, there was that lurching sensation, when Jerott didn't know whether he should be laughing along with Danny's smirk or weeping with fury at the image they painted. He grimaced.

"Would that be so bad though? Letting Francis help?"

"Perhaps not," Danny conceded. "I do still have some pride though. And I know he's already donating an unsustainable amount to research."

Jerott made a sound of agreement between bites of food, and was soothed somewhat by the sight of Danny voraciously attacking what was on their own plate.

"So what do we need to prepare for next week? When's the wake?"

Danny didn't miss Jerott's phrasing and looked up sharply. "We?"

He shrugged. "If you think my cooking's up to your standards..."

Danny narrowed their eyes. "It could be...if you can follow orders better than you used to..."

"And do you want company at the wake? I'm here to make up numbers, isn't that what playing second guitar to Lymond is all about?"

"Are you asking to be my date at a wake, Jerott?" Danny's eyebrow arched delightedly.

"Not a date, but a friend who isn't about to fuck off just because life's tough, puce."

Danny ran their eyes distastefully over him and  pointedly pushed an olive stone out from between their pursed lips. They took it and deposited it on a side plate with careful deliberation. "Hmm, yes, and how is your lovely girlfriend? Kelly is it? The teenager?"

Jerott sat back and folded his arms. "She's twenty-three, Danny. And no gossip until you agree to my help."

Danny glared at him. "That's rude."

Jerott shrugged again.

Outside the restaurant, above the slate grey rooves, the autumn breeze nudged aside a cloud and the anaemic sun shone through, speckling the grubby window-pane with glitter. Abruptly, Danny let the act drop - just for a moment - and smiled warmly at Jerott.

It was agreed.

Jerott laughed in relief to see Danny relax.

---

Notes

doudou - teddy bear; puce - flea (because what kind of Married would they be without absurd nicknames for each other)

yemma - mother (Arabic)

Jerott Blyth

Band AU Jerott's mum is Algerian, a refugee who arrived in France during the war of independence, and his paternal grandmother was from pre-partition Lahore. He was born in Paris, where his dad met his mum while taking art classes between shifts on placement for medical school. His dad was a surgeon and his mother worked in an art gallery, but has always painted for herself too. Both his parents encouraged his musicality from a young age and he started classical guitar lessons as soon as he could hold a guitar. His parents divorced when he was around eleven and he lived with his dad in Glasgow - his dad's home city - until his dad died of cancer when Jerott was 18. Instead of joining Francis Crawford, who he met at the Solway Moss battle of the bands just before his dad's death, Jerott turned away from music to be a doctor like his father. He went to stay with his mother in Paris while studying and through her met a charismatic older man (Graham Reid Malett) and went off to find himself at an ashram in India instead. The medical degree was forgotten and he learned sitar, Ayurvedic massage, yoga, and some Hindi and Urdu at the ashram run by Rajneesh. He spent a few years in Rajneesh's cult and moved to a new ashram in Nevada with GRM - and none of it did his self-acceptance as a bisexual man any good. Having made a pass at GRM and been rebuffed, he later revealed his crush on Francis during a therapy session with GRM, who began to become obsessed with Francis through Jerott's recollection of him and through his music. GRM engineered a way for them to join Francis' new recording collective, St Mary's, and Jerott gradually realised the extent of the problems with the movement he was in, and with GRM particularly. He reaffirmed his loyalty to Francis, but GRM did him lasting damage that drove him to self-destructive alcoholism. He nevertheless tried to help Francis undo the mess GRM had done and in the process met Marthe - who it was easier to admit to being in love with than Francis. She needed a European visa and the potential for a passport, as well as a boost to her career, so she married him despite knowing she wasn't attracted to men. They had a deeply unhappy marriage and lived in France, using properties Marthe was able to inherit from a relative once she was resident in the EU. Jerott had a drunken one night stand with a Danish guy called Peder at a low point in his marriage, and then he ran into Peder again at another vulnerable moment (the end of Checkmate). He and Peder had a couple of good years together but it didn't work out. Since Peder, Jerott's seen some guys and some girls but hasn't really had anything long-term or meaningful - but at least he always had his best friend Danny to go to for advice!

Danny Hislop

Band AU Danny was born with PAIS and is intersex. The oldest child born to Rabbi Hislop in Glasgow, they were amab and given surgery to make their physical body allign with this assignation. While they were raised as a boy, they knew this wasn't right for them, and the bar mitzvah really cemented that feeling. Danny's family didn't understand their nonbinary identification (NB I know not all intersex people are nonbinary, but Danny is) and Danny left home at 14 with a clarinet and a grade 6 piano qualification and went to stay with a blue-collar, union-stalwart great uncle in Edinburgh. The great uncle helped Danny reconcile their faith with their identity somewhat - the discussions around tumtum (people of unidentified sex) taking place in rabbinic communities came a little late for Danny, but at least they became aware of the term through their uncle. At sixteen they made their way to London in search of a community that matched how they felt about themselves - they became bat mitzvah as well by choice, partly as a way of reclaiming what they felt was forced on them incorrectly by their father. They lived in squats and it wasn't initially a great time to be young and of indeterminate gender in a big city - it took a while to find the right people and they experimented with some stuff they regret. Then they found a healthier community, moved on again to Paris with a friend, became an apprentice in a kitchen and played saxophone and clarinet at jazz clubs. They settled in the Marais - which is both the Jewish and the queer quarter. When Lymond called for auditions to join his experiment in Russia, Danny submitted a klesmer cover of Lymond's song 'Crisco Disco', along with evidence of their fluent French and passable Russian (Danny tries to learn something from everyone they meet, and Paris has a big Russian expat community). They proved themselves resilient enough to travel the USSR with Lymond - though they probably had to deal with a lot of fuckery regarding pronouns and people's perception - and they remained a valued member of St Mary's afterwards, though they still live in the Marais near their drag cabaret friends. They've kind of been in love with Jerott Blyth since seeing him cover for Francis by playing a guitar solo that should have been impossible sober, while so drunk that he also shouldn't have been able to stand up. They are not proud of this fact. They also strongly believe that Jerott will never see them as anything more than a kooky friend who's into far kinkier shit than Jerott could stomach.

#everyday i write the book #band au: post canon #ship: a twinge of approval #character: danny hislop #character: jerott blyth #i mean it with those content warnings - i felt like that was kind of the elephant in the room in such a queer '80s au so.

[pasteltraitor]

(I was planning on doing like six more of these as a sort of ('five times Raph protected his family and one time it was the other way around' but if you don't want me to I won't, happy birthday.

Everyone knew Donnie was a softshell, and everyone worried about it.

The young turtles, despite being around the age of ten, were still cautious whenever playing with Donnie, their pops and Raph made sure of it. But they started to get reckless after Donnie tied soft things onto himself to protect his shell, it was like all their caution had been thrown to the wind, they all had thought it would be fine to be as rough as possible.

Raph was still slightly worried, unlike his other brothers, it still sat in his mind, and he'd told them off sometimes, but eventually even he played more rough, even if he was worried.

His purple loving brother had been checking the newly built ramp, making sure it was stable, when Leo had shouted from the top about calling dibs on the first try, and shot down at rapid speed despite the protests from everyone else, then hitting a loose part of the ramp that sent him rolling down at rapid speed instead.

Time didn't slow down during that moment, Raph's instincts and body, his thoughts, had felt like they'd sped up.

Leo was coming right for Donnie, and Donnie hadn't been wearing anything to protect himself at the time, Leo couldn't stop himself, and Donnie wouldn't dodge in time-

Raph had barely thought about what he was doing, just what would happen if he didn't make it.

Raph rushed forward, shielding his soft shell brother with his own body as he rolled through the air, pain stabbed him as he hit a wall with his plastron.

His limbs went limp to reveal a shocked but unharmed Donnie, who had seemed grossed out by the hug until he looked directly at his bigger brother.

Raph sighed in relief, cringing at the small pain in his chest as he looked down-

And saw the scar.

It wasn't that big, he later thought, but it had still hurt, though he didn't care. he checked to make sure Donnie was okay first. "Yo, you okay, Donnie?" The bigger of the two asked, Donnie responding, "Other than the uncomfortable awful feeling of being stuck in a hug, yes, but are you seriously asking me that when you have a crack on our plastron?? "

"A WHAT?!?" Splinter said, the rat having been brought over by Mikey.

Raph and Donnie both exclaimed "IT WAS LEO'S FAULT" while Pointing at said turtle who had hit the other side of the ramp, causing a small bruise to form by his cheek.

After Splinter had checked they were okay, thanked Raph and scolded Leo, fixed up Raph's scar and put two bandaids crossed into an X onto it, Donnie had come up to Raph to say somethng.at

"…Thank you for saving me, even if I could've done I better with some planning, it was helpful." Raph grinned. "Your welcome, Donnie. You're still gonna be wearing two pillows on your front and back and one soft blanket, though, just in case."

Many years later, Donatello gently touched his battleshell, thinking about that day. That incident was a part of what had inspired Donnie to make his battleshell in the first place.

Donnie looked over at Raph, who was arguing with Leo again for the fifth time today, and stared at the spot the small, now faded, scar you could hardly see, would be, silently grateful though he would never admit it aloud.

-------

Characters are OOC but IDC I woke up at 4: am with a vision and I will write it.

Again happy B-day don't have to answer this ask you can just delete it or keep it in your inbox.

P.S I dare you to go on the scariest ride at six flags on saturday your prize? You got to go on the scariest ride at six flags congrats

aww this was rlly sweet i loved it thank u!! im posting it <3<3

also would love to see more of these! no pressure to if u dont want to

also ur on! idk what the scariest ride is but ill go on it! and I dare u to not scream at all during a ride

#thetraitorspeaks #ask #friendo #xolborsaystuff #rottmnt

[starthetripledevil]

Mario Legacy Challenge: 1986 (Part 2)

This year, Jumpman has been away from home a lot as his circus job requires him to travel around a world. He still gets to be at home multiple times a year, and fortunately, this includes his twin sons' 6th birthday.

On the day of the birthday, Jumpman wakes up feeling angry due to his hot-headed personality. At least he's able to calm down before the party starts.

Lady, on the other hand, wakes up feeling flirty. So she and Jumpman have a brief romantic moment in the corridor. Also, Pauline is up and getting ready for the party as well. Since October 11 is a Saturday this year, Pauline doesn't even have school to worry about (and it was also Saturday in-game as shown by this calendar, though the in-game day of the week being the same is purely a coincidence as each in-game day represents 3 months).

Mario and Luigi are wearing their party outfits.

Lady has baked a cake for the party. The candles have also been placed.

The Arthurs (Aunt Luigeena, Uncle Tony and cousins Marianne and Luigeena) are here.

The Marios' neighbor Emmalyn has also been invited. And now Pauline no longer has a grudge against her so she's no longer feeling bitter by Emmalyn's presence.

Grandpa Nico brought some confetti to celebrate the twins' birthday. (He aged up into an elder off-screen some time before the party.)

Time to blow out the candles! It's Mario's turn first as he's the older twin.

And then Luigi!

The rest of the party doesn't go that well when Pauline notices that she's sick!

And not just her, but Tony as well! Oh no, did one of them infect everyone at the party?

Others only start feeling ill after the party is over... in Jumpman's case, it's only after he has already left for his next work trip. Did they have to cancel circus performances because of this? I'm not sure.

Aunt Luigeena also only starts showing symptoms some time after returning home. But fortunately, everyone involved manages to recover pretty soon.

But it's not all bad. For Mario and Luigi's birthday, the family bought a new NES and a TV to go along with it. The kids' bedroom also got a renovation with new beds and room for the TV.

Mario now has the Rambunctious Scamp aspiration and Loves outdoors trait. Luigi has the Whiz Kid aspiration and Good trait (the three traits for the twin in the Gen 2 rules are all for teens and older, and besides, I don't even have the packs for 2 of them).

About two months later, it's now the Arthur twins' 13th birthday.

Jumpman couldn't come due to his work but the rest of the Marios are here. Mario is feeling quite tense.

Along with the Marios, Grandpa Nico is here too.

(And yes, Lady dyed her hair to the infamous "cheese" color...)

Like Mario, Luigi doesn't seem to be very happy to be here either... He prefers being in the guest bedroom alone over socializing with the hosts.

Luigeena and Marianne are teens now. They both have the Serial Romantic aspiration and Romantic as their second trait (Outgoing being the first).

Of course, a birthday party isn't complete without eating cake. Pauline is also singing.

Luigi seems to be happier now, even when sitting next to Aunt Luigeena.

The guests leave as the party is over. Mario and Luigi in particular seem to be happy to leave - after all, at home, they can play NES games.

Near the end of the year, Jumpman returns home from his last circus show of the year. He gets to spend the start of the new year with his family.

For Jumpman's (and the other Mario family members') experiences in 1987, see this post.

#mariolegacychallenge #sims 4 #sims 4 legacy #sims4 #the sims 4 #thesims4 #generation 1 #the sims 4 city living #ts4 city living #ts4 gameplay #ts4 legacy #ts4 simblr #ts4 #ts4 birthday #super mario #mario birthday #jumpman mario #mario bros #mario #mario and luigi #pauline mario #1986 #luigi mario

[withtheghostofblue]

you.

i have twenty five minutes until i have to leave for work. im not sure what I'm meant to do, or say. I'm so proud of you for everything you've done. was shooting really not that scary? you always spoke about how you were worried it would hurt your ears. i know I stopped checking in on your for a little. things have been going well. i even stopped texting your number. i thought I would call once inna while but I've not bothered. i figure at this point little updates are good enough. i do still miss you. and I look in on you a lot. but I've focused on myself a little more. i think a lot of my problems were because K didn't show me enough love. made me second guess everything anyone did. he turned me against you, by the way. i didn't want to snap back. I'm sorry ab what I did to you. my boys are still good, and I'm working on my business again! ive been clean for 58 days. shit was really bad back in august but ive only had one hiccup since then. I'm doing a craft fair saturday- I'm so nervous. its my second craft fair and my first one with my own booth. i think I wanna visit home. is wild women's still there? i know greenlaws is gone- I cried when I found out. maybe the new shop isn't as bad as it seems!! ive not been back there since I moved. ive seen k and ash. he's gonna propose soon!! we helped him look at rings over the phone last month. gram is still loud and drunk all the time. stacy isn't as bad, shes cancer free now! uh. i dont know what else I missed. all I really have to say is I'm so proud of you for being clean for so long. you're doing amazing. i hope you have fun taking T back with you guys. try and go to pumpkin fest please, I'm gonna miss it. i don think I can make it back that soon. maybe next year, who knows. sometimes I see people who look like you and it hurts a little bit. i dont think that will go away. but I dont cry when I see you've posted, I'm glad you're back to posting happy things. I'm so proud of who you've become, and I'm sorry I couldn't be there for that. I'm happy you were able to figure out why you were falling back into old patterns and fix it before it destroyed you this time. you deserve to be happy.

k is back in NH, just a warning. i don't know if youll run into him, but please be safe if you do. there's so much I wish I spoke up about when it came to him. but anyway, this is gonna end on a good note. not something ab k, fuck that dude.

i hope dad realizes why hes not in the babies life, I'm so glad you are. n I hope C liked your bub, yall have made it almost a year n a half if I'm not mistaken. i wish you nothing but healing and love, even if I cant be a part of your journey. thank you for updating me, my love. I'm so fucking proud of you. you're gonna make it to 300 days soon, Thursday. have a good day. or night. whenever you see this. enjoy spooky month, ill check back in again inna bit <3

[pkpumpkinn]

Hello twitch chat and RTumblr!!

I have decided to start the journey to document my making of RTs twitch chat character in miitopia. I know the community loves the miitopia series and twitch con is resuming this year!!

My god I miss the convention I went to in Nov and I'm so excited for twitch con. AAAAAAA 💖💖

If you can't make it to twitch con, don't worry, I'll be there representing all of twitch chat <3

Granted ill be going to the San Diego one all the way in October, its better to get this done now than later. 

I started this journey on 3/22/22.

Day 1:

Not too much happened, I just did a rough sketch of what I wanted the cosplay to look like and I looked at a lot references from other artists and gained some inspiration. Then I bought a robe, dye, hat, and other miscellaneous things.

Day 2:

After class, I went to Walmart to pick up some modeling stuff to make chats eyes and charms I wanted to hang on the hat. Here are some progress photos ^^

I was originally going to use the 3D printer my family bought a year ago but when my dad and I were playing with it I broke the sd card somehow and I haven't touched the machine since. ;-; I thought that making clay things would be more fun since my hands are the ones making all of it.

The eyes I made to put on the hat in the middle or around there. I really like decorating hats. My philza cosplay hat has a lot going on as well and was what made others know that I'm philza and not from bleach haha.

A photo of my philza hat and cos because I love that thing <3

Day 3:

I only really worked on the ears part of chat. I had work and school work to do so I didn't want to ignore homework just to work on chat, as much as I wanted to. Before work though I had glossed the painted clay to seal them. they were very nice n shiny ^^

After work I got straight to making the other ear and baked them in the oven and sanded them and painted them and glossed them and yeah, finished them pretty much. I of course had to take some breaks here and there to do homework.

The ear is a bit wonky on one but like they're gonna be covered by my massive hat anyway haha.

My favorite part was taking out the tinfoil. Not.

and the painted product ^^

Tomorrow I should be getting every thing but the hat.

Next week I will post more updates. I plan on dying the robe and lace Saturday/Sunday and testing if my sewing machine still works.

I also have the mask/face for chat to do. If my sewing machine works, I'll have everything but the hat done by Tuesday night ^^

#RTGame #rtgamecrowd #rtgame miitopia #rtgame chat #chat cosplay

[simmingonahilll]

For those of you who don't know, I figured I would post here as well. I mostly use Instagram, so everyone on there has heard the news by now. We lost my grandmother this past Sunday.

Trigger Warning: Death, Hospitalization, Sickness.

Friday, September 17th, 2021, my family (me, dad, grandma, and my boyfriend) left our homes in Minnesota/North Dakota, and flew out to California to see my big sister and meet my new nephew. We arrived late that night, and my nephew made his appearance around 5pm. We all pretty much relaxed when we got there. My sister had a C-section and was going to be in the hospital to recover for a few extra days.

Saturday, September 18th, 2021, some of us woke up late (myself and boyfriend), and others spent the morning relaxing. Around 11 am, we were all awake and decided to stop at a restaurant for breakfast, my Dad and I had been there before but it had been about ten years since we last visited.

After breakfast we headed back to the house we were renting. Grandma started to feel ill, thinking she had simply just eaten too much at the restaurant. We sat at the house for a little bit before I asked if we could take a trip to see this fountain I use to swim in as a little girl. We went for about an hour and a half, just talking together around the fountain. It was a beautiful day, and the sound of the water falling in the fountain with my family and my love there was perfect.

Sister was still in the hospital, and because of the v***s we were not able to see her yet. We found out the church I grew up in was having an event that evening. Grandma was still feeling ill, but she was fine with us going. We had a wonderful time surprising people my Dad and I hadn't seen since I was around 14.

We got home around 7 or 8pm and then started the worst night of my entire life. When we walked in the door the first thing we saw was a very sickly grandmother. The next thing I knew I was trying my best to help her, Dad was on the phone with the emergency crew, and my boyfriend was waiting outside to direct them where to go.

A short while later my grandma was in the ambulance, on her way to the hospital. None of us could go with because of c***d regulations. So for the next 4 or 5 hours we sat and waited for any information they could give us. We tried sleeping, but it was mostly laying down talking, trying our best to not over worry.

Around 2am on Sunday, we got the call. My Aunt, who is in charge of my grandmothers wishes, called me. My grandmother had an aneurysm that had burst sometime Saturday. They had an operation that could save her, but it was at another hospital. Dr's said they would need to transfer her. Given her age and condition, they didn't think she had enough strength to make it there let alone have an operation. Grandma's wishes were that if that was ever the case, where she would have less than 50% chance of survival, she would want to be let go.

Auntie let us know that the hospital would let us in to say our goodbyes before pulling the plug on the sweetest woman in the entire world's life. So the three of us went. They didn't ask if my boyfriend was a relative or not, they just let us all in (and I'm so thankful he was there). When we saw her she was asleep from the anesthesia. Her chest was moving as if she were breathing really well, but we knew it was mostly the machines.

Shortly after that, my sister began messaging me (we had called her when we first heard the news. She didn't know we were in California because it was suppose to be a surprise). She was recovering in the same hospital, just three floors above us. The nurses were trying hard to find us so they could wheel her over in a wheelchair to say her goodbyes. Before she could get there, before I could finish sending the messages to her, our grandmother took her last breath.

September 19th, 2021 was the last day of my grandmother's life.

-

We went on the trip to meet my nephew, and for grandma to meet her great grandson. We finally met him on Monday, September 20th. That day was also grandma's birthday. Just after she passed I remember turning to my Dad (her son) and saying something about how she didn't get to meet my nephew, but she does get to meet my big brother. Her obituary includes that she was preceded in death by my brother. She wrote the obit herself, and included him.

-

It's been a hard few days. Because she died in a different state it's been frustrating. We can't make any final plans because they are not able to release her body until they have certain signatures. So, for now, we wait.

If anybody out there is a believer, please be praying for my family. And also my sister as she recovers from C-section and the loss of our grandma (she will not be able to come to the funeral either, she won't have enough strength to travel).

[spadotto-ottodespade]

Borghi's social network's case.

I'm gonna start saying that NOBODY in this world is perfect and we should follow our minds, we can divide the person from the actor and we do this.

We love his acting, we share different visions on topics.

Now, we did follow him on IG and Twitter, we still do this by our fanpage for his work. Some things he shares are just not on our way of thinking and who we are.

We're two women and some posts make us say "mmh, this isn't right." you can think what you want, we just want to make sure you know about it.

This isn't the first time I share some happenings, Ale and Giacomo are friends with some problematic italian rappers - being a white rapper doesn't mean you can say such things, right? They use racism, mysoginy and homopobia in their lyrics and the 'right' to say that Ghali, an Italian rapper, wears feminine purses so isn't credible as such, to be a rapper you should wear masculine clothes? (from Gue Pequeno - someone who went live masturbating on IG)

Emis Killa (a friend of G.) who wrote a song with all the topics above + transphobia with Jack La Furia.

We know that show business, record labels and management are a huge problem...this doesn't mean they should be able to share these products.

Below you can find some of his likes:

"2020 represents the major progressive year of the #feminism: they (women) admit that a movie directed by a woman it's bad, it seems nothing but it's a half miracle for crazy supporters of the ideology, they're healing, I'm so happy for them."

"Never go against directionerz. Never, not even for a mistake."

The joke they made from the radio: "Guys, don't worry HS is cured from homosexuality"

The joke from this morning about HS wanted to be a real satir to the close minded - medieval and dangerous thoughts that refer homosexuality to as an illness. I'm apologizing to the ones, we don't know each other, they have completely misundertood the sense of our words #treatpeoplewithkindess

(of course we did, and Borghi is a Gucci testimonial also. Shouldn't satirical words, again, help people through them not to laugh on bad and mean jokes?)

I just read a dude who wrote - scientific context - researchers [ricercator* (the author surely has mistaken to show inclusivity to show an agender word to include everyone) - ricercatori (male plural) ricercatrici (plural female)], new front of orthographic pornography. Being the plural female 'ricercatrici' it assumes unprecedented connotations, however always ridiculous.

(the original post is by a man, shared by Irene - Ale's current girlfriend and liked by him)

F - females B- basic I - italian I- internazional (basic international italian females)

Rightly most people, regarding the seduction, are determinated on mocking the M- males B- base E-etero B- bianchi (basic white het males) but totally forgetting the beauty of the FBII.

his gf shared story:

We spend too much time mocking males when they seduct bc they unfortunately are the only ones who statistically gift us emotions, being also the only ones who flirt with them (females). And we forget in fact of how much it's already a paradox the own existence of the females in this sadness theather of seduction in which they are part of. It becomes most likable a male who flirt by chat in the worst way possible, to the eternal female immobilism that teaches to a world in which never wants to be the main character.

I've read twenty indignates for the sign 《(menstrual pads) they can't be sold on saturday and sunday》 that a supermarket has exsposed on the shelves. Now, okay that you're brain at 20 it's Mantellini's brain and you can't read the drecrees.

Okay that, instead of thinking 《1 supermarket who doesn't understand the decrees at all that should apply (+a mocking)》, you run to a social network to write that you're 《dumbfounded by a right.》

Okay that languages that you don't get are infinite to not to talk about your missed biology hours, so you put in your bio that your pronouns are she/they (if you're 'they' you have to explain to me why you're bleeding every month: aren't you, my god what a patriarchy, mammal?)

(Ale openly said once that he would like to play a queer or trans character)

"It's all right, but I'm going to say it, silicon valley: these dudes in 20 years are going to realize you let them be ridiculous in public and they do a class action to leave you in underwear. I would've if someone would've if they let my 20tude be public."

part 1/2

#asks #italian problems

[alias-b]

Don't Let The Sun Go Down On Me

California, 1992. Billy Hargrove and Camille Harper built their future in an endless, red hot summer. Everything changes with a splash of pale blue. Billy x OC! Camille Harper

A/N: The baby one shot I promised everyone! Occurs after my fic, "Without The Lights." Warning, I get into the not pretty side of pregnancy and Camille struggles with her illness. Sexual content. TW: graphic description of birth and postpartum depression. Mention of death and past torture. Cross posted here on AO3

1992

   She’d been late.

   Camille Harper was never late to anything.

   Then, she’d taken ill. Scents that used to thrill her in the morning like fresh coffee, fluffed pancakes, and scrambled eggs sent her scurrying into the bathroom.

   Billy looked up from his desk, covered in different lead pencils and scattering papers. Grotesque concept art for an upcoming horror film he’d been working on. Still pretty as a picture. Less of a baby in the face, but still just as sweet. Sprinkle of facial hair and lashes for days.

   “Ugh, so much for sleeping in Saturday.” Camille gargled mouthwash, spat, and wandered out. Brown hair grown out and piled up in a bun. Billy’s arm snaked around her hips, bringing her into his side. A temple pressed into her nightgown. “I don’t want to get you sick.”

   The back of his knuckle drew along her forehead. Cool metal of his wedding ring chilled.

   “No fever. You probably ate something last night, I told you the shrimp was a bad idea.”

   The very word ‘shrimp’ almost made her hurl again.

   “We’re not trying that place again.” Camille kissed the top of his head. Curls longer like a rockstar around his shoulders. “I have a new case to prepare for the office Monday.”

   “Boy or girl?” Billy set his pencil down and watched her plop into the couch.

   “Girl.” Camille frowned, rubbing her head. “She’s got a wall up, this one. Office likes me so her case is mine. Arthur thinks it’s a good match, but I’m actually nervous.”

   “Arthur this and that.” Came a scoff. “School buddies who ended up at the same office. Pshh.”

   “Arthur is taken now and quite happy.”

   “Who swept him off his perfect feet so he’ll quit bothering my wife?”

   “Lovely man named Stanley.” Camille laughed when Billy gave a double take. “Went drinking together while you played with latex masks last Thursday.”

   “It was crunch time. I’m sure your new case will be fine. Brilliant Dr. Harper. Blazing through all that schooling and study abroad. Almost in the clear.” Billy mused, switching his light off. “We’ll see if they like this new design I got. Tea?”

   “Yes, please.” Camille slid down the couch, pulled a fuzzy blanket into her body while Billy went into the kitchen. Cozy apartment they could afford. Walls covered in memories. Photos and degrees. She clicked the remote and settled on a light movie. Look Who’s Talking.

   A campy opening of sperm headed toward a dropped egg after a mini love scene with Kirstie Alley. Camille sighed, rubbing her head before something clicked the same moment hot water howled from the tea pot in the kitchen.

   “Oh, shit.” She shot up. Blinked. “No way.” They hadn't exactly been trying. But, they hadn't not been trying.

   “Getting your Travolta fix?” Billy set a mug down and Camille blinked at him.

   “Ah, yeah.” She shot up. “I just remembered...I was supposed to hit the drug store. We’re out of...everything.”

   “Everything? I’ll drive you to the store.” Billy chuckled.

   “No, it’s just around the corner, I need the walk. Fresh air. No shrimp.” Camille skidding around him to toss clothing on their bed. Dressing in jeans and a tee. “Keep working. Need anything?”

   “I’d kill for a Milky Way.” He shrugged, plopping back into his seat. Camille was hopping around to put some shoes on. Sun from outside caught his face and she pressed her lips, kissing his cheek.

   “I’ll bring you something sweet.”

   Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Camille nearly jogged down the steps from the fourth floor. Grabbed a basket when she got to the mini-mart and tossed randoms items they needed in. Billy’s candy included. Stopped in a section that made her cold.

   Pregnancy tests.

   “Jeez.” She mulled over boxes before snatching one.

   Ignored the idle way the clerk peered at her stomach when he rang it up. Christ. California sun and wind swept against her body. Usually it set her at ease, but a ball of nerves sank into her stomach when she took the elevator back up. Billy was on the couch now, looking up as she tossed the candy into his lap.

   “You okay?”

   “Feeling sick again.” Camille half lied and went into the bathroom. Locked the door. Stared at the clear plastic curtain as she peed on a stick. Washed her hands and pulled at her watch. It ticked slower to spite her.

   “Camille?” Billy knocked. “Something’s up.”

   “Ah, just a second,” she paced, “give me just another second.”

   “Let me help.”

   “Oh, believe me...you did.” She sat on the side of the tub. Stared at the colored tiles. So many to count. Billy exhaled on the other side of the door. Didn’t leave. “Billy, I’ll be fine.” Her own tone shook.

   Did she want this?

   Were they ready?

   How was she going to feel if it’s nothing?

   How was she going to feel it it’s blue?

   Camille didn’t have time to think through each possible dream because reality spoke for her.

   Blue. Crystal clear sky.

   “Camille.” Billy jimmied the lock until the door popped open. She looked up in tears.

   “...Is that?”

   “Blue.” She breathed with one fist curled to her chest. Burst into tears. Unable to tell if they were happy or sad. She just needed to cry. Billy swept toward her.

   “Hey, hey. I got you.” Billy kissed her cheeks until she was soothed. Held her there while she clung to his shoulders.

   “It’s blue.”

   “What’s...that mean?” Billy met her eyes. “You’re...”

   “Blue.” Camille said again. Licking her lips before they pressed. “I’m pregnant.”

   “We’re having a baby?” Billy blinked at her. She waited for him to panic. But, he smiled. So bright that it made her burn with jealousy to be confused about it. “We’re having a baby!”

   Billy grabbed his wife. Held her close to him. Settled Camille just a little, she tried to feed off his glow.

   “Ninety nine percent accuracy. We need to, ah, go to a doctor first.” She let Billy pull her up. Out into the living room.

   Why was she riddled with confusion and anxiety while he bubbled with excitement? He danced her around to no music like a true romantic.

   “Let’s not...say anything until we go. I’ll make an appointment. After my meeting Monday?”

   “Yeah, yeah.” He swept hair aside and smiled again, so youthful. Kissed her there in the sun. Meanwhile, she felt life being sucked into a swirling pit. Billy tugged Camille into the couch, nestled her into his chest. “Are...Are you happy?”

   “I’m… Blue “...something.”

** ** **

   It was real. Confirmation at the doctor and life turned in on itself. People were careful with her. Work tried to withhold cases she’d fought for.

   She had a woman’s condition. They treated Camille like it was fatal.

   “Jim? Are you still there?”

   A thud on the other end was followed by scrambling.

   “Camille?” Joyce had the phone now. “Jim, get up.”

   Camille laughed that time.

   “Your father’s fine, just shocked. Oh, Jim, stop being dramatic!” Came some bickering.

   “I’m going to be a grandpa!” There was more laughter on their end.

   “Can you two stop kissing in my ear already?” Camille twirled the cord and stretched her legs out into Billy’s lap. Let him massage her ankles. “We wanted to know...if you guys would come down for the birth. Should be early November, I’m due.”

   Billy started counting something on his fingers, earning a soft kick.

   “Max and El already freaked. Letting them follow me to UCLA was such a mistake.” Camille joked. Mike and Lucas in Washington. Will and Dustin following Nancy and Jonathan to New York. Steve, Heather, and Robin living blissfully in Chicago. Rumor had it Regan and Kali turned up there too.

   “You’re listening to the doctors, right?” Jim turned stern. Such a dad.

   “You know it,” Camille brought the phone away, “Billy, you want to pass me a beer?” He just snorted.

   “Hey, none of that.” Jim was in her ear. “We’ll fly over now.”

   “No need. We’re fine. We’ll figure things out when it gets closer, yeah? Telling work was mortifying enough. But, we got the leave figured out. Arthur’s been such a help. Don’t worry about anything.” Camille sighed when Billy’s hands worked up her legs. Had to slap him out of her skirt.

   “Congrats, Camille! Billy, you tell Susan?” Joyce stole the phone.

   “We heard her crying from over here. Same with Grace. She and Elliott choked him near to death. Billy also tells me that Miss Mayfield was set up with a certain middle school teacher, how the hell did that happen?”

   “Mr. Clarke can be quite charming,” Joyce chirped and a groan erupted from Jim, “passes Susan’s little boutique on the drive to the school every day. Started stopping in. Flirting in his way. I couldn’t tell you.”

   “Glad Rosemary’s former team was willing to do us some favors and help her out with that.” Camille was still squirming away from Billy’s advances. His lips on her neck. “Well, I should go. But, any and all advice is wanted.”

   “She already tore through all the mommy books in the library. Ignore her.” Billy stole the phone. “Hops. Can I call you Pops now?”

   “If I can call you, dead.” Jim smiled when Joyce swatted his chest.

   “I expect you to spoil my kid.”

   “Will do. Make sure Camille takes it easy.”

   “Oh, I will.” Billy said goodbyes and pushed his hips into Camille’s, a sigh followed.

   “Hate you.” She settled her arms around his neck. A long kiss followed.

   “Valentine’s Day.”

   “Hm?” She went for his neck and jaw. Immersed in him.

   “By my count, we made her Valentine’s Day. Wonder if it was the car or the counter or the couch or the bed?”

   “I hate you...and it could have been the floor too.” She chuckled into his skin. Kissed him fiercely. The phone rang again. Billy reached over to snatch it.

   “Hargrove.” He let Camille paw at him. Twirling his hair about. Worshiping him with starry eyes. Billy’s own eyes opened and he pushed up with Camille still attached to him. “Why are you calling, I’ve told you-?”

   Camille let him go immediately. Saw the cold way he went rigid.

   “What?” Billy sounded breathless. “I...”

   “Billy?” Camille touched his face when his eyes welled.

   “Fine, just don’t call here again.” The phone slammed and he was up. Pacing. Rubbing his eyes.

   “Billy, who was that?” Camille hurried after him. Tried to tug at his arms but he slipped off.

   “Just...give me a second.” He didn’t make it into their room. Collapsed to the floor and covered his face.

   “Billy!” She gathered her husband into her chest. He just sobbed. “Billy, who was that?”

   “...Neil. He's been trying to call.”

   “You didn’t tell me that.”

   “I didn’t want to freak you out. I kept hanging up. I was terrified you’d pick up and he’d...” Billy sniffled. Clung to her. Cried more. Camille petted curls helplessly. Kissed blond hair and soft cheeks all better. “He’s sick.”

   “What?”

   “He’s dying. Cancer. Not the kind you get better from.” Billy lifted. “Don’t know why I’m crying about it, I’ll be glad he’s… He asked to see me. How can he fuck up my life and then just…?”

   Disappear.

   “Where is he?”

   “Colorado.” Billy wiped his eyes. “Fuck him.”

   “Do you...want to go?”

   Billy thought of Neil with his skin sunken and yellow. No longer handsome. Rasping at him from a mattress. Pissing himself. Dying alone in a cold bed like his father before him. He turned to Camille and cupped her stomach.

   “No, I don’t.” A long kiss into her abdomen. “I want to hold our baby. Take her to the park. Make her feel safe. I promise I’ll never...” He stopped. Blinked several times. I’ll never be like Neil. Nuzzled into Camille’s neck. “I love you.”

   “I love you too.” She let Billy’s broad body sink into her. Brought him to bed where they could wrap each other up. Feverish and dizzy until he pushed inside her. Melted their mouths. Gasped into her neck. Succumbed to the sweltering heat. He sought comfort and burrowed under her skin. Pushed fingers between thighs. Fucked her into the mattress while they reached peaks.

   Hours later, Camille heard Billy get up, thinking she’d fallen into slumber. Came to the door to listen.

   “Hey...” He said into the phone. Whispering. “No, you listen. I’m not… I don’t want to see you. I’ll just remember you healthy. Able enough to give hard lessons. I just...wanted to call and say Camille and I are having a baby… I think it’s a girl.”

   There was silence for a few beats.

   “We’re going to name her Sara and she won’t be learning hard lessons. She won’t be afraid of me like I...” Billy paused.

   Life flashed these vivid images of his childhood. His mother’s bracelet scattering across the pavement. That one moment Neil let him cling.

   “You ever think things could have been different for us, you know, after mom? I do. A lot. But, I can’t live in that… You beat the shit out of me. You hurt my wife. You hurt Susan and she’s still trying to move on. Max’s hair is all grown out and she won’t let anyone touch it. You won’t hurt my daughter. But, I’ll tell her about you. Tell her she had a grandfather who made bad choices and ended up…”

   “...Yeah, I think she’ll get the Hargrove jaw too.” Billy softened, lifted his eyes to the starlight beyond the window. Wondered if Neil was looking too. “I’ll tell her your name. Not much else. Hardest lesson I learned was realizing I’m not going to be like you. I’m sorry you wasted your life, I’m not going to. I’m going to be a good dad. I...just wanted to tell you that. That I'm in love still and I’m going to be a great father to my little girl. I’m going to keep her safe in this world. Goodbye, dad... We loved each other once.”

   Billy hung up. Curled into a ball to cry silently. Camille inched out until his head lifted. Arms came up to accept her there.

   “Shhh, I got you.” She tucked Billy’s head under her chin. “I’m so proud of you. You’re going to be an amazing daddy. I’m so lucky you’re mine. We’re going to be okay.”

   “God, I’m supposed to be holding you.” He chuckled at himself and Camille beamed.

   “We’ve got each other.”

   Neil Hargrove died in his sleep late April of 1992. Alone in a cold bed.

** ** **

   Camille’s belly turned into a mini planet Billy couldn’t stop kissing. Dealt with some fiery stares when he made comments about her swelling breasts. It was true, tired all the same, she glowed. Billy fed her odd cravings. Made her feel as sexy as he could until she was climbing atop him. Riding him because she needed it now and bad. He liked that part.

   A million baby books later, Billy became an annoying infant factoid machine.

   "Did you know if-?"

   "Billy," Camille groaned into the couch, "I want Thai food again."

   "I swear to god, Camille, our kid is going to come out trying to order a pad see ew, extra spicy."

   "...Two orders please."

   Billy was weak. He ordered her three to last her.

   Elliott, now eleven years old, took to painting seashells and starfish along her belly when she was stuck on the couch. Billy’s excitement never stilled. Only illuminated. So willing to learn this all. They cleared spaced. Decorated a little nursery all under the sea themed. Camille was more riddled with anxiety. Always steadying her breath. Talking to the little life inside her. Constant gifts and advice from friends helped from time to time.

   “Billy!” Elliott jumped up when he came home. “Think I could work in movies like you?”

   Camille was giggling. Hard. Her shirt pulled over her stomach painted with the shark from Jaws.

   “Guess what we watched?”

   “It wasn’t even scary.” Elliott crossed his arms, ruffling waves of brunette hair. “That was kid stuff.”

   “Think so,” Billy swept him up, growling for effect. Baring teeth like a shark. Earned a giggle.

   “She cried again at a TV commercial.” Elliott whispered and Billy snickered.

   “I'm allowed to have emotions, you two. Roger is going to be here any minute.” Camille pushed up. “Who wants ice cream?”

   “Mint chip?” Elliott followed after her.

   “You know it, kid.” She braced one hand on her back and the other around his shoulders. Billy shook his head and dropped a bag on his desk. Water ran as Camille washed her belly off and Elliott pulled out a pint of ice cream with two spoons. “Your big brother doesn’t have our sophisticated taste in ice cream.”

   They shared a few bites over the counter. Camille groaned a little and pressed a spot on her stomach.

   “You’re doing that a lot, sissy.” The affectionate name he’d picked up when he was little never left. Camille felt a cramp well like a great wave.

   “Just my girl dancing around. Picking fights with my organs. She’s definitely going to be like her daddy. Want to feel?”

   Elliott smiled his toothiest grin and reached out. Let Camille press his hand to her side.

   “Spicy food and mint ice cream is all I want these days.”

   “My mom said she liked mac and cheese with tomatoes with me.” He gasped, feeling the baby. “She high-fived me!”

   “Billy kissed my stomach once and got a swift kick.” Camille snickered, scooping more ice cream to enjoy. Billy paced in, pecking her cheek before he stole a spoon and the strawberry pint in the freezer.

   “All mine.” He shrugged, eating. Camille hunched, moaning a few minutes later. “Camille, you sure you’re okay?”

   “It’s just minor...cramps. I’m fine. She’s not coming out for another two weeks.” Camille licked her spoon.

   “She’s been doing it all day. Like this...Oohh...” Elliott mirror a motion with his hand on his back and the other on his stomach. Billy raised his brow.

   “They’re far, far apart.” Camille turned to the ice cream and felt a pop. A gush of fluid like she’d peed herself. Billy’s spoon clattered.

   “Sissy?” Elliott took her hand because he was closest. “Cami, what’s happening?” Billy was at his wife’s side, holding her.

   “Her water broke.”

** ** **

   A million phone calls later and Camille was whimpering, pacing around a bed. Wobbling side to side. Bracing her hands to groan. She decided on a birthing center and midwife over a hospital. Place looked more like a hotel and had a hot tub for those births. Cozy space all for them.

   Billy held a lot of jokes back.

   “The baby book’s-”

   “Fuck the baby books!” Camille’s red face lifted. A demonic edge to her voice and even Billy backed up. “Photographic memory is worth shit!” He edged off. “Sorry, I’m...oh! I want drugs. I want my midwife! I want Thai food... It’s early!”

   “She’s on the way now. Jim and Joyce were on a plane an hour ago. Max is driving El here. Just breathe.”

   “Fuck my breathing!” She sounded truly possessed. Grabbing at Billy over the bed with some crazy burst of pregnancy strength. “I want drugs… What if she comes out hurt because it’s early. Or like me?”

   “She’s fine. Hey...” Billy pried her hand from his shirt and crossed around. “She’s going to be perfect.” He held her. Placed a kiss into hair. Camille’s face was blushed and beading with sweat. Limbs shook as she braced into the bed.

   “Camille!” A woman who could have bench pressed Billy hurried in. “Oh, poor girl. Keep breathing like I taught you.”

   “Ellen.” Camille winced. The girls were on a first name basis. Ellen was a former body builder and wrestler turned midwife. Lost some kids of her own and swore to help other girls keep their babies. “I can’t. I can’t.”

   “Might want to go get some ice chips, Bill.” She turned to him looking frantic and reeling it in. “Two cups.”

   “For her?”

   “For both of you. You’re in for a long night.”

   Billy scrambled. Passed the waiting room where Roger and Elliot sat for Grace and the rest of the family to arrive after driving the crying girl in.

   Hours of groaning and wailing. Women in other rooms joined in like a chorus of cries and soft birthing songs. Billy joked they were calling out to each other. Solidarity for the pain women were created to endure.

   “Camille, honey, you have to get up like this. Just like we practiced.”

   “I can’t,” she only moaned, shaking her head back and forth.

   “Daddy, she needs you. We’re almost there, I’ll be back in with assistance. She has to get into position.” Ellen continued, lighting a fire under Billy while he paced. The midwife jogged out into the hallway where more women vocalized together. Called out to ensure none felt alone in this.

   “Something’s wrong, she’s gonna come out like me.” The girl sounded delirious. Billy cupped Camille face, watched her eyes dart over his welling expression. “She’s gonna tear a part of me out and I can’t stop her.”

   “I want her to be like you.” Billy admitted.

   “Don’t say that.” A hand pulled for his shirt. Camille twitched with anger at him. “Don’t say that again!”

   “No, I hope she’s exactly like you and she’ll have parents who love her. We’ll teach her never to force a smile. That perfection is bullshit. I hope she’s like you, I have this entire time.”

   “The world’s going to swallow her.”

   “We won’t let that happen.” Billy smiled because he was so certain about that.

   “She’ll be in pain.”

   “And we’ll see her through that too. Pain happens. Means we're here sometimes. Means we're strong enough to fight through it and she won't be alone. You gotta get up, she needs you.”

   “Camille!” Another voice at the door.

   “Dad. Jim, you’re here.” She wheezed when Jim came to her with Joyce’s hand in his. Sprinkles of grey in his hair. Joyce pulled her brown locks back into a ponytail.

   “Hey, sweetheart, we’re all here for you.” She came around the bed. “Max and El want to come in, we got them to stay with the others. Just breathe, you’re almost there.”

   “How’re you holding up, punk?” Jim clapped Billy on the shoulder, earning a chuckle.

   “Just barely, Hops. Lots of ice chips.”

   “I swear by those, you might want more.”

   “She’s crushing my hand.” Billy lifted his near white palm. Camille’s digging fingers into his skin.

   “He did this to me,” Camille hissed. Another bout. Another groan that tore the room. Ellen was back at her side.

   “Camille, come up now, that’s my girl.”

   A growl ripped violently.

   Like a werewolf mid transformation.

   Camille huffed and got to her hands and knees. Thought to rip her flesh away and reveal fur and muscle hiding underneath. Teeth growing and sharp to stark points while her veins darkened.

   She could have torn through a forest. Howled at the moon. One last time.

   It glowed bright before her. Speckled with stars.

   She counted them to herself.

   “Hold on, here.” Ellen guided stirrups higher so she could grip them. Had her squatting on the bed. “Breathe.” The thin cotton of the gown was damp. Hanging from one shoulder. She growled and tore it open down the front. Veins pulsing and pushing. No drugs. Just a body built for agony. Miles of it. Nude and feral.

   Camille screamed at the moon this time. For gawking. Grabbed at Billy again while he helped brace her into position.

   She howled and other women howled back. A great echo into the unknown. Into the dark night. Wolves in a pack itching to run through wind and rustling trees. Feral bodies that were so often controlled by weaker beings. Free and shameless.

   Women were not always soft, they were hard edges of steel slicing skin to pieces. Teeth gnashing muscle and bone apart. Hot irons of a beating heart within a hollowed chest cavity. Camille led a brigade with her.

   “Big push now!” Came the command.

   Camille tossed her head back and roared. Succumbed to the flames and blood lust. Thought her bones would break and shift so she could become the beast. Bring the world to its knees.

   Ellen reached down, head lifting.

   “Camille, it’s time. Another big push for me.”

   Camille only braced herself. Bones chattering. Words echoed with encouragement from her family. From Billy as he held onto her. Ellen repeated herself from the right.

   “Ahhh!” Vocal cords vibrated and almost ripped apart. Teeth baring. A gasp when it reeled back. Sweat and blood dribbled down Camille’s quivering thighs.

   “Almost, sweetheart, almost. Keep pushing for us.”

   “I can’t, I can’t.” Came the chants. Jim thought to step forward as he watched her spine press out into skin, but Billy sprang into action.

   “You can do this.” He kissed her temple. “You can.”

   “I’m not ready, I can’t.” Camille cried so hard. Looked out at the sky.

   It was all blue.

   “Camille,” Billy murmured into her hair, “I love you. You can do this.”

   The stars glowed brighter beyond the window. She longed to reach out and catch one.

   “They’re singing to me.” She whispered more so to herself. Lips opening to howl and sing with them. The women echoing her calls. The stars waiting beyond the veil.

   She waited for fur to ripple her skin. For claws to grow long and sharp.

   “That’s it, Camille, push!” Ellen took one hand, guided it down to feel something warm and wet. Camille screamed and they helped her stay upright when something stronger and more youthful than her tore from a body built of steel and stardust. “Take your baby. She’s here. Cradle the head.”

   Camille was sobbing as she pulled a tiny mass to her bare chest. A fallen star she managed to grasp. It echoed her screams. More powerful and beet red. Slicked with blood and fluids.

   Unable to stay upright, she was guided back with Ellen and Billy’s help. Looked almost wild in the starlight. Bloodied and nude with her cub cradled close.

   The baby wailed over Camille until she quieted in a daze. It overcame her with so much ease. Felt like she was slipping into a warm bath. Endless pools. Unbothered by her nudity there in the wash of moon.

   “Look at her,” Billy gasped through tears. Kissed Camille’s cheek again. “I’m so proud of you, you did it. She’s beautiful.”

   She half expected him to say, my, my, what big eyes you have.

   “Congratulations, mommy and daddy.” Ellen was ushering her assistant around.

   Camille didn’t look down. Couldn’t. Not at this little pup that ripped from her. That howled with her at the moon. This beating heart she would nurture and teach to glow all neon and red. The baby felt its mother’s heart beating under her little head and made it her first lullaby. Camille felt for a moment, that she had no more life in her. No more fight to tear through the woods leading a pack of wailing women.

   “Let’s get her cleaned up.” Ellen pulled the whimpering infant away to tend to her. Camille sat sprawled there half naked with one leg hanging over the side. Her own fluids in a puddle beneath her. Warm and oddly comforting. Billy and the assistant worked to maneuver her into another mattress so the dirtied one could be rolled off.

   “Camille?” Billy cupped her face there against a plush pillow. Covered her body. “Hey.”

   “She’s just a little dazed.” Joyce was smoothing brown hair back. Hopper’s hand on her shoulder. “You did so good, honey.”

   Ellen pushed a peach bundle back into Camille’s arms without asking. Helped her cradle the head as she propped herself up into the pillows. Hazel eyes lowered to see her daughter at last.

   Bright, crystalline eyes. A full head of dark hair already. Blinking and still at her mother. Billy leaned into Camille’s shoulder with a tired grin. Fingers grazed his baby’s cheek. Lips lowered to feel the tufts of hair, to inhale the scent of new life. The urge to cry overshadowed her smile.

   “Sara Anne Hargrove, welcome to the world.” Billy said. “Halloween birthday, I’m jealous.” Glowing with vitality Camille didn’t feel as he spoke.

   She heard the other women crying out and mourned that she no longer had the strength to roar with them.

** ** **

   “She’s so tiny.” El glittered, cradling the baby with Jim’s help.

   “She makes that same squinty face Billy does, look.” Max joked. Both girls as tall as Camille. So grown up and out into this big world. Jim crossed to see Camille when Billy went into the hallway to sign some papers.

   “You okay, kid?” He tucked a strand of hair away. She stared beyond him at the moon.

   “I never asked you if it was okay. Her name.”

   “I think it’s perfect.” Jim smiled and Camille pressed her lips at him. “Joyce and I will stick around if that’s okay. Help you get situated.”

   “We’d appreciate that. Grace and Roger live a ways out.” Camille blinked, head back to see everyone fawning over the baby across the way.

   “You okay?” Jim felt a great distance pool within his kid.

   “I’m...” Blue. “A mother.”

** ** **

   Sara wouldn’t latch.

   It took extra help to get her to at the birthing center and Joyce assisted at home.

   “Give her a second.” Billy tried to help. Tried.

   “You want to do this?” Camille’s eyes snapped at him. He put his hands up in response.

   “I’ll start dinner.” He slunk away into the kitchen where Jim was. Max and El left because they had class the next day. Grace promised to come up as much as she could after kissing Billy a million times. Phone calls and cards poured.

   “Ah...” Camille wiggled in her seat. Perched on an extra pillow because everything below her waist was raw and padded. Her stomach went down slowly while her breasts ballooned. Sara suckled in her arms and Joyce only offered encouragement. “It hurts.”

   “They never tell you that in the books.” Joyce sighed. “Jonathan gave me all sorts of trouble too. You’ll get the hang of it.” Camille winced and settled her head back against the couch. Felt like she was just waiting for it to be over. Everyone gushed about this amazing connection they would share and here she was just floating.

   Maybe that was just something else to get the hang of.

** ** **

   Camille started to have dreams. Maternity leave only made her restless. She cried when Billy packed her files away into the closet. He’d gotten the first month to stay with her while she’d gotten three.

   And she wanted to go back.

   Billy didn’t dare ask why the urge to see these kids over her daughter quelled.

   So, Camille dreamed a lot on rare nights she got sleep.

   Barely ate.

   A white room with white sheets in a white bed. Camille in all white too. Doctors fussing as she bloodied the room with her mess. Her womanhood that was supposed to be kept in check. Sara crying. Screaming. Echoing.

   One doctor pulling his mask down. Smiling wider than a circus clown. Brenner.

   Camille tore up and screamed too until Billy started to shake her awake.

   Only one week in and she’s unraveling with dark circles and a broken in body.

   “Camille!” Billy just held her until she stopped.

   “No, no, I have to check on her.” She ripped away from him. Scrambled into the other room to hover over the crib. Sara sleeping soundly and undisturbed. A sigh.

   “Camille, come out, you’ll wake her.” Billy rubbed his eyes. She ignored him, felt around the window for a latch.

   “You left it unlocked.”

   “What?”

   “I told you to lock it last night.” Camille’s neck twisted with a heated expression. Eyes glinting like an animal.

   “She took awhile to sleep, I forgot,” he paused, “I’m sorry.”

   “They could come in and take her. In the dark. Just like that.” She seethed in a struggle to keep her voice low. Billy gently pulled her from the room and shut the door.

   “I’ll remember next time. Nothing can climb to the window.” He rubbed her shoulders. Only got pushed away as Camille checked the door. “Camille? Who...”

��  “Brenner!” She burst and covered her mouth. “If she’s like me, they’ll come take her in the night. In the dark. They’ll take her away and make her a number. You'll die and I'll be rocking in some hospital.”

   “Brenner is dead. That won’t happen.” Billy realized her fears. Saw her eyes glimmer there. “That lab is dead, no one will come for her. She’s safe with us.” He sat her on the couch. Watched her quiver and hold herself. Head dropping. The baby monitor in their bedroom echoed a wheezy sound. “Come get back in bed, I got this one. You had her yesterday.” Billy sighed and tucked Camille in. Left.

   “Hey, you...some set of lungs you got.” Billy’s voice spoke through the haze of static. “There you go. I mastered the art of the diaper, I think I-no, no, don’t pee on, daddy. You weren’t done.”

   A giggle.

   “Yeah, I’m your daddy, Sara. Bet you have some freckles coming in. My mom says I had mine young too.”

   Camille pictured her husband at total peace. Seated in the rocking chair wagging his finger and smiling at their baby. Soothing her. It made her weep silently until she shoved a fistful of blankets into her mouth. Billy took to this life a duck to water.

   And she…

   She just fizzled and sunk. Dreamed of Brenner coming and Sara being torn away. Never knew what to say. What to do. Billy seemed to have it figured and that just made her feel behind and confused.

   “You are my sunshine...my only sunshine...” Billy sang and Camille covered her face. Blocked her ears because it was too much. He returned ten minutes later to hold her. Kissed her hair and uttered the sweetest I love you because he felt so fulfilled and lucky.

   Camille pretended to be asleep.

** ** **

   Breastfeeding hurt still.

   Second week. Camille never slept. Put on her brave face for family visits. But they saw it in her eyes. She sang to Sara and chatted with her. Changed her to perfection. Kissed her head. But, the connection. The emotions welled up like they were blocked in her throat.

   Her body healed and only felt lifeless. Like she was a puppet controlled by another. Strings twisted all along her limbs to make her flop along a stage. Little clumsy ballerina. Going through the motions. She only cringed when the baby cried.

   Sara needed her.

   And it made her shrink.

   She was mommy. Warm arms and shelter. A knowledge base that would mold their baby.

   That suffocated. Billy smiled and cooed and Camille looked away. He just seemed so happy. She felt wrong.

   Why didn’t that come for her too?

   “Camille, look, look.” Billy was lying on the couch, lifting Sara up as she giggled to no end. Little limbs flailing. She bubbled a raspberry and he chuckled.

   Camille stood there in the kitchen doorway and averted her eyes.

   “Come sit with us.” He pushed up, nestling Sara into his lap.

   “I’m going to ask if I can go back early. To work. They need me.”

   “Uh,” Billy tread carefully, standing, “it hasn't even been a month. We’re still figuring this out. Take the time. You earned it.”

   “I can work part time.” Camille said it without any emotion. Not blinking. Staring at his feet while Sara wiggling there into his chest and played with blond curls.

   “I don’t want to make this choice for you, but I think it’s a bad idea. We haven’t even figured out our hours when we go back. Babysitters. Camille, don’t push it-...why won’t you even look at her?”

   Billy said that without even thinking. Camille’s eyes glinted at him.

   “What?”

   “It’s like you want nothing to do with us anymore.”

   “That’s not true.”

   “Well, look at her then. Hold her. We made her and she’s perfect.”

   “Billy.” Camille backed up. Touched her palms to her ears. Didn’t know how to not hear this. “Stop it. I’m fine… Stop saying that word.”

   “Huh?”

   “Perfect, she doesn’t have to be-”

   “You know what I mean.” He eased. Camille vibrated there. Paranoid. Manic. Lost. Went around him and slammed a door. Sara jilted. Started to cry as he bounced her. “Hey, no, you’re fine. Mommy’s just upset. She’s tired. She’s just tired.”

   Camille slid down the door. Cried there because she scared her little girl. She made her baby cry. She was a bad mother. These thoughts chanted until she was covering her ears again. Got into bed and curled into the tiniest ball she could.

   Something strange happened as she shook and wept there. Her fist beating into her shoulder. Punishing herself for being bad until sleep crept. A bad mommy. Bad. Bad. Bad. The skin purpled with a bruise that next morning. Camille felt Billy stirring behind her.

   They slept apart.

   “Hey, I gotta go pick up some stuff. I’ll grab groceries.” He kissed her head. “Might be a few hours.”

   “Okay.” Camille rasped, eyes on the wall. On the rain trickling outside.

   “Camille, last night, I-”

   A whimper on cue from the monitor.

   “I got her. She’s hungry.” A robe pulled over her nightgown. Over the bruise. She couldn’t look at Billy as she left. Plucking Sara up, she went out to the couch to feed her. Her husband appeared dressed and eyed her carefully.

   “I’ll be back soon.” Billy reassured her. Hesitated at the door before he lifted his eyes. “Love you.”

   “...Love you.” Camille said quieter. Let the TV drone. Billy locked the door and didn’t make it to his Camaro. Instead pushed coins into a payphone.

   “Yeah? Hello?” A tired voice answered from a hotel room.

   “Jim.” Billy swallowed. “Hey, I...”

   “You alright, Billy?”

   “It’s Camille. I don’t...” Billy paused. “I’m headed out to run some errands. Can you come over? Sit with her a bit. I left the key under the mat.”

   “Billy, is everything okay?”

   A pause. Billy didn’t know how to tell Jim what he saw. But, Camille always responded to Jim’s love. She needed it right now. Billy felt useless.

   “I don’t know.” See for yourself.

   He hung up and got into his car. Wiped his eyes before he pulled out.

** ** **

   “Come on, we can do this.” Camille groaned. One breast out to feed the baby. “Please.” Sara wiggled in protest. She looked up at her mother. Smiled.

   Camille shattered.

   “Don’t do that.” She quivered.

   Don’t look at me with undying trust and love.

   Don’t look at me like I'm all you got because I’m failing you.

   “I’m sorry.” Camille offered at last. Felt like she’d been holding that in since she saw the strip turn blue. “I’m sorry, I can’t...I’m a bad mommy and I’m so sorry.” Tears hit Sara’s cheeks and blanket. A baby blanket Grace knitted with the baby’s name in it. Pale lavender. Camille sobbed and held her. “I don’t know why I feel like this and I’m so sorry.”

   She couldn’t stop. The baby just cooed at her. Grabbed for long locks of brown hair.

   Don’t cry, mommy.

   That was how Jim found them.

   Camille drained of life and sobbing over the baby she felt she'd let down. Skin discolored and bruised. Clothing loose and crumpled. One of her breasts out. Hyperventilating. Vibrating. Sara still contented in her arms. Looking around in wonder.

   “Camille, sweetheart,” Jim crossed and she hitched to breathe. Offered the baby to him. Desperate.

   “Take her. Take her away from me. I can’t. I can’t do this. I’m not right. I can’t keep her safe from men in suits with red ties. I'll just hurt her too. I’m a bad mother. I’m not...I don’t feel...” Camille shook and Jim took the bundle. “I can’t look at her because I can’t do this. I’m awful. I’m a horrible mother. I’m sorry!”

   Skin paled and eyes huge, Camille crushed in on herself.

   Hands covered her face. Crossed legs lifting so she could curl up again there.

   “Camille...” Jim eased. Realized how unwell she’d been. Clearly not sleeping or eating in the short time they’d been home. “She’s okay, Camille. You’re doing okay.”

   “I’m not, I’m not. She’ll be like me and they’ll take her away. They’ll stage a car accident or fry our brains and she’ll be out there and all alone. I made her cry, I didn’t mean to.” She kept thinking about Rosemary and Noah brushing her aside. Lying to her. Keeping her in a cage.

   “That won’t happen, no matter what she becomes.” Jim faced her, cradling the tiny baby against him. “Deep breath.” He managed to fix her nightgown back up with a free hand. “Hey, look at her, it’s okay. She's safe.”

   Camille wiped her eyes and stared at the floor.

   “Has it been like this since you got home?” He frowned. “We...We didn’t-”

   “It just feels all wrong, Jim. I don’t understand.” That raw voice squeaked. He brought her against him with his arm. Holding Sara there too.

   “She’s healthy and beautiful. And she’s happy. You did that.” Jim offered. Camille’s fingers dug into his jacket. “You’re not well. I’ve seen this before with my own family. We’re going to get you some help, okay? You need help and that’s okay.”

   Camille only nodded. One shaken hand reached out to touch her daughter. Finger running the curve of her little chin.

   “When’s Billy getting home?”

   “Couple hours tops.” She sniffled.

   “I want you to go lie down.”

   “She hasn’t eaten.” Camille persisted, head lifting.

   “We’ll try again in a bit. I’m going to make you something to eat and I want you to just close your eyes. I’ll take care of the baby.” Jim stood, ushering her with him. “Get into bed.”

   “What about Billy?” Camille let Jim cover her. “He...He seemed...”

   “I’ll explain it to him. Just rest.” Jim settled Sara into her crib. Turned the mobile on. He made some plain toast and got Camille to sit up and each both pieces. Brushed crumbs off her face. Tucked her into a warm bed.

   Then, he called Joyce.

** ** **

   Billy came home with his arms full of bags. Stopped there at the scene. Joyce playing with Sara on the couch. Jim just walked out of the kitchen.

   “Where’s Camille?” He dropped the groceries aside. Jim put a slow hand on his shoulder.

   “I got her fed and to sleep. We managed to help her feed Sara after the first hour...” Jim sighed. “Billy, Camille’s...”

   “I don’t know what’s happening to her. She doesn’t want to be around Sara or I.”

   “What’s happening to Camille is common. Happens to mothers everywhere. She needs to go talk to someone about it.” Jim cocked his head and helped the new father put his items away while Joyce stayed on the couch. “Postpartum depression. You read about that?”

   “Some in the baby books. Not much.”

   “Camille is feeling very...”

   “Blue.” Billy’s eyes went distant. He sucked his cheeks in. Set his jaw to sigh. “I ignored it. I got mad at her for...”

   “It’s not either of your faults. It happens. Camille has to go talk to someone before she hurts herself. She needs support. It’ll be okay. I promise.” That somehow relaxed Billy. Jim always knew what to do. What to say.

   “I hope,” Billy began, “I can be a dad like you.”

   Hopper smiled at that. Beamed and hugged Billy to his chest. The new daddy paced to see his baby on the couch.

   “She behaving for you?”

   “That she is.” Joyce smiled. “We got her. Camille’s in the bedroom.”

   “Thanks.” Billy kissed Sara’s head and went in. Clicking the door open. Camille stirred. Head lifting when he got behind her. “Hey.”

   “Hi.” She stiffened up as he brought her to his chest. “Jim tell you?”

   “Yeah.” Billy’s chin settled upon her crown.

   “I’m sorry.”

   “Don’t apologize, we’ll get through it. You, Sara, and I. We’re a team. Little pack of wolves.” Billy kissed her head. Let her finally breath him in and cling as she turned to burrow into his chest. “You two are everything to me. Nothing else is as important as us.”

   “I love you. I love her. I do.”

   “I know you do. And we love you. We’ll get you help, Camille. It’s okay.” Billy cuddled her closer. Thought of Hopper. “I promise.”

** ** **

   Camille woke before Billy that next morning. Went to feed Sara. Jim and Joyce left after another long talk with Billy when Camille fell back asleep.

   “Okay, Sara, it’s just you and me. We can do this.” She adjusted and sat in the rocking chair. Cupped her breast to offer it. Pain stung a little but… “There we go. Good girl. Yes.”

   Camille felt herself smile this morning. Billy made an appoint for her. She would be taking the full maternity leave.

   Sara wiggled and burped up as Camille bounced her. Hummed Billy’s song to her and flicked the mobile around. Her husband hadn’t emerged yet so she went into the kitchen. Made a turkey and cheese sandwich. Sliced it diagonally and fell into the couch to watch some TV. Billy stumbled in and stood there with bed head. Beautiful beyond belief.

   “Morning.”

   “Morning.” Camille took half the sandwich and offered the plate to him. Billy brightened. Sat next to her. They shared the food in silence. Watched TV until she got under his arm. Rain padded against the windows. Sounded peaceful. “Do you think she’ll like surfing or ballet?”

   Eyes flickered over his wife as she engaged herself at last. With ease.

   “I think she’ll be into pro wrestling.” Billy smiled fuller. Camille let herself feel it, pushing at his chest before she laughed. Still a pretty sound. Inhaled the scent of him before he brought her hand up to kiss the tender skin of her wrist.

   “She’s gonna do whatever she wants to do, I think.” Camille said then, kissing up his jaw to find soft lips. “And we’ll be there to support her... We’ll always be there, won’t we?”

   “We will and that’s enough. I promise.” Billy tucked hair aside for a feverish kiss, nuzzled down into her neck to murmur. “You doing alright?”

   Camille saw his lashes flutter. Traced her fingers over the freckles and thought about how she couldn’t wait to see them bloom like fresh petals upon their daughter.

   “Today? Yeah. I think so. We’ve got each other.” She breathed, pressing lips into wild curls. They held each other while the rain fell lighter. Realized Billy was right. Echoed his call. “That’s enough.”

   Sara roused for her parents. Squirmed as Camille picked her up to bring her into the living room so they could gush and admire her. Neon hearts that glowed brighter by the hour. Her lullaby and sunrise all at once.

   “I love you both,” Billy nudged his head into Camille’s temple, “so much. You know that?”

   “You’re a magnificent father. We're lucky, Sara and I.” Camille’s lips pressed and the curves of her expression blurred. Billy blinked several times. A smile pressed. She let Sara giggle in her lap and held one finger with a strong, little hand. Babbling some until Camille was laughing to encourage it. “She’s all blush and tangerine today.” Not blue.

   “She’s beautiful,” Billy sighed there with so much contentment as Camille let herself relax. “And she’s just like her mother.”

   Hazel eyes lifted to see him. Amazed by this wonder of a life they created. A miracle. Like a specific star they’d plucked down to cherish and nurture.

   “She’ll be messy and also so kind. Good. Angry when she needs to be. She’ll cry and not be shamed for it. Our baby will be shown so much love, the world couldn’t hope to swallow her.” Camille smiled again. Softer by the hour as she gazed at Sara there. “The best parts of us. Our love. Into one gorgeous creature. She’s us, Billy.”

   That hit the new mother hard. Made her voice quiver.

   "She's us."

   Camille felt a glimmer of it then as she understood it all. That connection threading red cords around her heart. Casting out to anchor others so close. Billy saw it resonate and felt it too. Held them both on the sofa as they curled up like a family. Their own pack. Camille would teach Sara to howl at the moon and tear through forests. To endure and pull herself back to her feet at every stumble. To lead and love as hard as she could. Like she was meant to.

   Billy only glittered at her. Camille’s burst of vitality and hope. They had each other and they would get through whatever would follow the horizon.

   “And it’s enough,” he repeated in peace, “I promise.”

#billy hargrove #Billy hargrove x oc #billy hargrove fanfiction #Billy Hargrove imagine #Billyhargroveedit #MINE #Camille Harper #writing #Stranger things #Stranger things fanfiction

[missharasser]

My cat is not getting better

Hi, it's happening again. What I thought would be something I could forget about is happening yet again, my other cat is sick and with the same disease as the one that died early this year. I was confused as to why he got sick since I care for them a lot, but the vet told me that FLUTD is really common in males. So here I am, once again asking for help. I truly didn't want to do this since I didn't want to come across as someone who always asks for money, but at this point I don't know what else to do, I've been selling my stuff and doing jobs for people but it is not enough.

His name is Castiel, he's two years old and this past two weeks have been a nightmare, I first realized my cat was sick last week on Monday when I arrived home and noticed he couldn't pee at all, he didn't want to eat nor drink and he didn't have the strength to get on the bed. I took him to the vet immediately and they diagnosed him with FLUTD (Feline lower urinary tract disease).

The vet told me they couldn't use the urinary catheter since they didn't know just how big the crystals and sediment in his bladder were, so they appointed me for an urinalysis and an ultrasound. The next day I went to the appointment and they told me they were now sure he had FLUTD, and that he needed to change his diet and that only with antibiotics and a few shots he would be alright.

Sadly that was not the case. One day passed and I went to the vet to get his medicine but he looked weak and still wasn't eating. I was feeding him with re-hydration solutions and some vitamin gel but it wasn't enough. I couldn't give him too much solution either or his bladder would be damaged since he still couldn't pee. They told that if he looked worse that night that I should bring him fast and not wait for tomorrow. That afternoon I spent every ten minutes checking his vitals and making sure his bladder wasn't hard. Sadly at 7pm his pulse dropped and he wasn't breathing as fast so I took him to the vet, they told me he was getting cold and that he was at a risk of hypothermia. He had to be hospitalized that night.

The next day I went to check up on him and he looked really bad and that's when they told me that he indeed had hypothermia and that it had been really difficult to manage also that a surgery was needed. The urethral obstruction (a blockage in the urethra, which is the tube that carries urine from the bladder and out of the body) got worse and while he had started to pee it hurt him so bad since the clumps were bigger than his urethra.

I told them I didn't have any money left and that I would try to gather enough to pay, but business is business and they told me they could only perform the surgery if I paid. That day I sold my graphic tablet, some glasses and did paid homework. I managed to gather enough money and told them they could start the surgery.

That was last Friday. After that he had to stay hospitalized throughout the weekend. On Saturday I went to check up on him. He looked sick and skinny, still a little weak after surgery and he had an IV since he was dehydrated. They told me that if it went well I could pick him up on Monday.

On Monday he looked way better, still a little disoriented but better. They gave him his medicine and told me that I had to come back again so they could check up on him and give him the rest of the medicine. I took him home and he looked so happy to be here. He was rubbing himself on my legs and my hands while I was sitting with him. The next two days were uneventful, he started to eat, pee and was even meowing. On Wednesday I was told that everything was ok and that I only had to come back in 15 days.

Last night was when all went downhill. He refused to eat and he didn't want to drink anymore. At 2am he puked all over the floor and started shaking a little bit. I was worried but I had to wait until morning to take him to the vet.

His ears and paws started to feel cold so I heated some water bottles and wrapped him up in a blanket and hugged him the rest of the night. Today he wasn't as cold as before but not as warm as he should be. I took him to the vet and they said that he had kind of a water bag in the stomach area and that he would need to have surgery performed again to see what's going on. They're worried that that liquid they feel is pee since it could be mortal. He was dehydrated again since he didn't want to drink anything.

They said that since I have been paying on time for the last week that they could wait this time, they will perform that surgery today and I have a week to pay all the bills that are needed during and after surgery.

Up till now I have spent more than $350 (appointments, ultrasound, medicine, shots, hospitalization, surgery, special dry and wet food, transport, etc) and it may sound like it’s not much but in Mexico it is expensive (almost $7000 pesos). I don't know how to make more money. As some of you know I'm a college student and money is not something I have in abundance. I managed to pay all the bills from last week, but it will probably be the same amount now since he will need new pain meds and noninflammatory, also antibiotics and the days he would have to stay hospitalized.

I love my cat. He has helped me a lot with my depression and I truly don't know what I would do without him. The worst thing is that everytime I think of him I'm reminded that my last cat had the same illness and the he couldn't survive. I'm so anxious right now I just want him to be okay. 

If any of you could help I would be really really grateful. If not, it doesn't matter, just good wishes is enough. I'm still selling some stuff I have and doing some jobs when I find the time, but finals are coming and I'm worried I won't have enough time to study and care for my baby.

https://www.paypal.me/letipimhe

I'm sorry for the long post, but I’m desperate and even if I just get some cents I don't care. Anything helps. If you can’t donate please share, I’ll be really grateful. Also if you’d like to see the receipts so you know I’m not lying just tell me.

#cat #vet bills #animal help #signal boost #If you can't donate please reblog #thank you #blood tw #im really anxious i had to post this but its my only option #castiel

[cole-grey-writes]

No More Bad Days

Universe: Marvel Cinematic Universe

Timeline: Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier

Character(s): Bucky Barnes

Pairing(s): Bucky Barnes x Gender Neutral Reader (platonic)

Warning(s): depression

Request: hi ! how are you? hope you’re having a good day! i was wondering if you could do Platonic imagine? where bucky has a bad day, so the reader cook for him and try to make him happy? thank you

A/n: yaya, this was really fun to write. I tried to do my own hurt bucky x reader in the past but it didn’t turn out well at all and I was completely unhappy with it. Looks like all I needed was for someone else to request it to get the good juices flowing. Hope you enjoy ^~^

Bucky’s sort of like a semi-domestic cat. Its normal for you to not see him for a few days at a time. He likes to spend some time by himself in his apartment when he gets overwhelmed by the world. But, Bucky always comes back and he usually retains contact with you by text. There are some days where Bucky completely cuts all contact with the outside world, however. Those are always the worst days.

When Bucky does come back to you after those days, he always looks worse for wear. So, it's reasonable for you to be very worried when its been about a week since you last saw Bucky.

And Bucky values privacy so you didn’t want to intrude on him and see something he didn’t want you to see. You kept your distance and sent the usual good morning/good night texts, hoping it made a difference in Bucky’s mood.

It’s the fifth day with no Bucky when you get worried enough to actually do something about it.

You wake up on a saturday and check your phone to find out that Bucky hasn’t been reading any of your text messages from the previous days. You sigh and stare at the ceiling, at a loss for what to do.

You throw the covers off your body and go through your apartment to the kitchen, dialling your boss’ number. There’s a beep and it goes to voicemail, meaning they’re probably not in yet. You leave them a voicemail, telling them you can’t come in for the next two days due to illness.

Then you go across the hall to Bucky’s apartment. You knock on his door, but there’s no answer. You knock again, and softly call Bucky’s name. “Bucky?” You have no doubt in your mind that Bucky can hear you. Still, there’s no answer. “Hey, Bucky, I’m, uh… I'm gonna open the door, okay?” when, for the third time, you don't get an answer, you swallow and pull out the key to Bucky’s apartment that he gave you a few months after he moved into the complex.

You enter his apartment quietly. You look around, gasping with a start when you see Bucky peaking around the doorway of the kitchen.

“Hey, Buck,” you greet. The only thing that lets you know Bucky’s acknowledged you is the .2 seconds Bucky lifts his eyes and meets yours. You close the door behind you. “You okay?”

Bucky doesn't answer and plays with his hands instead.

“Um,” you stutter, “you-you weren’t answering, so I let myself in.”

“... I’m sorry, I-”

“Hey,” you say, holding up a hand to stop him. “Don't apologize. You’re fine, I was just worried,” Bucky nods. You take a few steps forward, asking him again if he's okay. He begins to nod before he thinks better of it and shakes his head instead.

“It’s been a bad day.”

“Oh,” you say. Although you don’t know the full extent of his trauma, you know that Bucky’s had a rough past. Bucky told you that he’s been made to do things he will never forgive himself for, and you witness Bucky’s pain mostly in the form of panic attacks and nightmares so you can only imagine all the horrible things in his mind. You’ve always wanted to help, but you’ve never known how. “Okay,” you say, “well, how about, um… maybe you could go shower?”

Bucky doesn’t respond.

“Yeah,” you say, gaining confidence in the idea. “Yeah, a shower would be great for you,” you walk closer, hesitating but putting your hands on Bucky’s arms and rubbing up and down gently. “Showers are relaxing and it would be great to help your mind clear up, don’t you think?”

Bucky doesn’t do anything for a moment, but then nods reluctantly.

“Okay,” you say.

“... okay.”

You chuckle and say, “Okay,” again before ushering Bucky down the hall to the bathroom. “If you need anything at all, just call for me.”

You watch Bucky slowly walk down the wall, sighing.

You’ve never seen Bucky this way. He’s only ever reappeared when the symptoms of an episode are the deep bags under his eyes and his pale, clammy skin. You feel absolutely useless in situations like this. You suppose the only way you can help now is to just be there for him. Also, making food for him because who knows when the last time he ate was.

You search through Bucky’s kitchen for anything that might be suitable for breakfast, but the fridge is almost empty except for spoiling milk and a half filled orange juice container. You shut the fridge and look through the cupboards. There’s nothing in those, either.

You bite your lips, trying to think of something. You might be able to order some food from a diner nearby or something, but you thought better of it because you don’t know how Bucky would react to strangers right now.

You hum thoughtfully, making your way back over to your own apartment and leaving Bucky’s door open so he doesn’t think that you left him alone.

You rush through your apartment while making multiple stops. You grab a carton of eggs, some chocolate chips, cheese, and all the ingredients to make pancakes. You even stop by your living room on the way back out to Bucky’s to grab a movie.

You close the door to Bucky’s apartment with full arms and immediately hear Bucky fearfully calling your name behind the soft sound of the shower going. You set down all the items on the counter, calling after Bucky from down the hall, “Hey, yeah, I’m here!” you tell him. “I just went across the hall to get some things for breakfast.”

Bucky doesn’t say anything before he lets out a quiet, “... Okay.”

“Okay,” you say back. “Don't worry, I’m still in the kitchen,” you don’t get an answer.

You go back to the kitchen to start cooking Bucky breakfast.

Over the next half an hour, you’re able to get through all of the eggs cooking two cheese omelettes, four sunny-side up eggs, and then two pans of scrambled eggs before the water in the bathroom turns off. You start to make the batter for the pancakes while you wait for Bucky to come into the kitchen when he’s done getting dressed. It’s only a few minutes before Bucky appears in the doorway.

“Hey, Buck,” you greet with a smile, even though Bucky doesn’t say anything back. You get back to mixing the batter, not bothered by his silence.

It’s not until you finish making the first pancake before Bucky speaks.

“You shouldn’t waste your time taking care of me,” you sigh heavily, choosing to ignore him and not say anything back. “You don’t have to worry about-”

“Except I do have to worry about you,” you interrupt him, setting down the bowl of batter, frustrated. You turn to Bucky. “You are my friend, Buck, and I care about you.”

Bucky hangs his head, eyes troubled. “It’s not worth it.”

“It is worth it,” you tell him sternly. You sigh, picking your words carefully. “I’ve watched you deal with shit since we’ve met and I regret not stepping in before now. You’re an amazing person, Bucky, and you shouldn’t have to deal with whatever you’re dealing with alone.”

Bucky breaths wetly, knuckles white from where he's gripping the hem of his shirt. He looks up at you for the first time in what feels like forever, his eyes wet. “I care about you, too.”

You smile at him. You spread out your arms and beckon him into a hug. Bucky rushes over, burying his head in your shoulder so much so that you can feel him smile into it, and you wrap your arms around him very tightly.

“No more bad days for you, buddy,” you tell him. “Not while I’m here.”

“Thank you, Y/n.”

“There’s no need to thank me,” you say, patting Bucky on the back before separating. “The pancakes will be done soon, so go sit at the table.”

Bucky gasps, asking with excitement, “Chocolate chip pancakes?”

“Of course,” you snort, picking up the bowl full of batter again. And then you gasp, remembering something. “Oh! I almost forgot, but I brought your favorite movie.”

“The Martian?!”

“Duh, nerd.”

“Thanks, dork.”

(NOT MY GIF)

Main Blog // Other Side Blog

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#bucky barnes x gender neutral reader #bucky barnes x reader #reader insert #marvel cinematic universe