#he did it in the most dramatic and safe way possible. and matt talking about cassandra and gilmore and allura's reactions just

[dragonsareourfuture]

Ways the Death Note Cast Show They Trust You

I lost some inspiration towards the middle there, I’m sorry!!

L

- he will always have Watari make extra servings of food just for you. It’s a bit startling at first. So suddenly there’s just food in front of you that you think is for L, but when you push it towards him, he pushes it right back to you.

“You don’t want it?” He’d ask, leaving you confused until you finally put the pieces together.

“Oh, I…I guess I didn’t realize it was for me. My bad.” You begin eating. “Thank you.”

L simply hums and continues with whatever he was just up to.

- You know that thing cats do where they’re sitting perfectly still, eyes closed, guard slightly down, but still not quite asleep? I can picture L doing something like this during any moment of downtime he gets. Just sitting, scrunched up in his chair or wherever he happens to be, eyes closed but the cogs in his brain are still turning. You notice him doing this when it is only you and him in the room, simply thinking it’s because of the moment of rare solitude. Little do you know, it’s because he trusts that you won’t hurt him or let anything bad happen to him.

- L is a person who prefers to be in charge of his own life. He likes knowing what’s going on around him at all times and when things are out of his hands he can’t help but feel uncomfortable. However, with a person he’s developed a close relationship with and knows he can trust with everything he has, L will feel more comfortable leaving decisions up to them. You’ll have to start small though, like being the one to plan a surprise date. He might feel a bit uncomfy at the beginning, shifting around and possibly even insisting he sit so that he can see the exits clearly, but he eases into it eventually. Soon you both find yourselves joking around in the odd way that you do and gorging on cake and ice cream.

Mello

- being vulnerable is something Mello isn’t too keen on. He already feels vulnerable most of the time and would kick himself if he let that show through his actions. If Mello truly trusts you, he will feel as though he can be vulnerable around you without any judgement on your end. Small acts that show vulnerability such as asking you to help him with something he can’t quite handle on his own — even if it’s something as simple as not being able to reach something off a shelf or being unsure about how to fix something. Eventually, he’ll work his way up to the bigger stuff like being physically wounded in front of you or having a mental block.

- Sharing his clothes with you or letting you pick his outfit for him. Now, it sounds like he’s just being a little diva and that’s only partially true. But his clothes are important to him, they’re a factor that sets him aside from his plain-dressing rival and in his eyes they make him more interesting than him, visually at least. He’s happy to dress you up, and it is true that he has to have a close relationship with you to want to do so, but you should be especially proud if he lets you alter his appearance in any way.

- He likes to believe that he’s had his goals set out from the beginning. Surpass Near, become the next L, and go on from there. What he pushes to the back of his brain are the moments he’s been studying and he’s asked himself ‘What if I went down a different path?’. He quickly pushes these thoughts away, but they keep coming back. What would life be like if this wasn’t an option for him? What if he were a writer? What if he lived in the city with people he loves and went to the movies every Friday? Unwillingly, he has a whole list of possibilities. If he truly trusts you, he’ll share every single one with you. Whether it’s dropping hints or confessing them one by one late at night, he can’t help but feel that they’re safe with you.

Misa

- it seems a bit surface level, but it’s true — Misa will talk down on Light in front of you if she trusts you. But it’s not straight away. She had developed a lot of courage to actually break up with him, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t still doubt her decision to do so. It’s only when she finds out from you how loved ones are supposed to treat each other — with kindness and respect — that she feels her decision to ditch Light was the entirely right one. Slowly, she’ll start to admit to you all the things she hated about Light, starting with some of his mannerisms and building up to something like how he forced her to leave the entertainment business.

- Misa is…dramatic. She likes to go above and beyond for someone she’s infatuated with and make sure they’re the happiest they can be. If she trusts you enough to develop this kind of infatuation and, with some development, less of an obsession and more of a strong, bonding love, you will be doted on to the point where it’s almost ridiculous. You could be at home during one of her work days and you’ll get a delivery of lunch from your favorite takeout place because Misa was ‘thinking of you <3’, as she explains when you text her asking why food randomly showed up at your place. It’s rather sweet.

- Misa’s a pretty talkative person in general, that’s a well known fact. She’ll talk about clothes, a cute birdie she saw on her way home, really anything that comes to mind. But, she’ll do that with about anyone who’ll listen. It’s gradual, so it’s hard to notice, but if Misa grows to trust you she’ll start talking about some of the more serious things that have been on her mind for a while, those things that she thought would scare off anyone she liked because of how personal they are to her. Her family before they died, for example. It’s something that Misa thinks about. So much. But she doesn’t really talk about it. She wants to forget, put the past behind her but because she’s never talked about it with anyone it’s hard to do that. She’ll talk about her family to you, the little things her sister used to do and some things her parents did that she misses.

Matsuda

- Matsuda often begins to idolize those who he thinks are trustworthy and have a good heart. He starts to tell you how much he loves when you do x and that he wishes he could perform as well as you in that area. In a sense, he trusts you with his vulnerability, letting you know that he thinks of himself as less than satisfactory and how he wishes he could do better, only he channels it by pointing out good things about you. If…that makes sense.

- This sounds dire, but he’ll risk his life for the people he completely, without a doubt trusts. He was willing to do so with Chief Yagami, someone he saw as a father figure, and he would certainly be willing to do so with you, someone who he feels he has a deep emotional connection to. Whether you’re in a situation where he would need to or he’s just saying that he would, he means it.

- Matsuda trusts you to not make fun of him when he overshares or talks too much or anything his coworkers brush him off for. He feels that he can talk about things he finds funny and talk about his life without worrying about what you think of him when he does.

Matt

- he would drop everything to help you. Whether that’s dropping his game to help you kill a bug or leaving his duties behind to help you out of a life or death situation. Whichever scenario you happen to find yourself in he’s there no matter what.

- He’ll invite you into his personal life. I know this is kind of a given but Matt had the chance to become the next L. He had the chance to become something “great” and he said “ummm rather not” to it because it wasn’t something he wanted. If he shares this information with you, he trusts you not to leave him for something better when you discover the status he could have had and refused. He trusts you to appreciate him because of him and not the intelligence everyone but him cherishes.

- He leaves you alone around important technology and software he’s hacked. Unfortunately for him, betrayal comes with the business he’s got himself into and, if Matt really trusts you on both a professional and emotional level, he won’t have a problem worrying about whether or not you’ll take advantage of his coffee break to gather information for some other organization or something. He will literally just go “mkay babe I gotta go fuel up on caffeine real quick, you’re good watching the hacked government database right? Cool cya.”

Near

- Near trusts you to take him to public places. Sounds simple, yeah. But Near has never liked crowds, or even just too many strangers in a wide open place. It’s strange to everyone observing how one day he decides he needs a new toy, his old one having broken due to old age, and asks you to take him to the toy store. He’s questioned, people wondering why he wouldn’t rather you just go alone but Near insists. Apparently the toy that broke is special addition and he wants to make sure you get the right one. He stays close to you the whole way, not really saying much, but he’s there and that’s a big step for him.

- He helps you out with puzzles. Basically cheats for you. When he’s eyeing one specific empty slot, coughing lightly to get your attention, just know that he’s not helping you because he thinks you need it. Quite the opposite actually. With anyone else, he believes that they should be able to solve it on their own. He thinks that if they can’t, then that’s their fault. But with you…it’s as if he trusts that you’re intelligent enough without the puzzle being an indicator of that intelligence, so much so that he thinks the puzzle itself is obsolete when it comes to you. He doesn’t need a puzzle to know how smart you are.

- He’ll eat the foods you make him. Near’s picky eater-ness is above that of a child who only eats chicken tenders and pizza. He doesn’t eat that many people’s food because he knows it’s probably not he way he likes it. But with you, he trusts that you respect his eating habits and know him well enough to get it right the first time. Though he does check the food out for a bit, he’ll eat it. Sometimes all of it. Fuckin astonishing to Rester who had attempted many times to heat up microwave dinners for the guy.

#death note #death note x reader #x reader #x reader headcanons #l death note #l lawliet #l Lawliet x reader #l x reader #Misa amane #misa amane x reader #touta matsuda x reader #touta matsuda #Mello x reader #mihael keehl x reader #mihael keehl #death note mello #near x reader #near death note #Nate river #nate river x reader #Mail jeevas #mail jeevas x reader #death note matt #matt x reader

[the-writer-ofthe-fandoms]

Emergency Visits (Bucky Barnes)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Words: 4.5k+

Warning(s): SMUT! Oral (Reader recieving), fingering, penetration, fluff!!! (Cringe warning too)

A/N: HONESTLY, idk why i had the courage to write smut but I did. THE ORIGINAL ONE-SHOT WASN’T SUPPOSED TO HAVE SMUT LMFAO also yall know I am a sucker for crossovers SOOO the timelime for TFATWS is off in this because Frank Castle is in here and I wrote most of this before episode 5 <3 

Summary: Bucky, Sam, and Zemo need a place to lay low in while in the States and you're their most trusted person they know. What was not predicted was your vigilante friend needing medical help that same night. 

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

You were a former Avenger. You were highly trained in combat but your purpose was to help any wounded comrade or citizen when you and the team were called in. The fighting days were pretty much over for you after the last battle with Thanos. You still used your medical knowledge to work at the different hospitals in New York City and helped Matt Murdock or Frank Castle with any wounds. Rarely you'd help with some vigilante work, but you rather sit out and keep to a less violent life.

You were mindless watching whatever Netflix suggested to you on a breezy night in your humble apartment in New York. It has been a rather boring few nights for you compared to more hectic ones, given your vigilante friends weren't getting as hurt as usual and didn't need discreet medical care.

Your cellphone ringing next to you snapped your attention away from your binging of a John Mulaney  stand up show (good choice Netflix). You looked at the caller idea and swore your heart fluttered ever so slightly.

James Buchanan Barnes was calling.

You had spent many months in Wakanda with him as Shuri worked tirelessly to get rid of Hydras grasp on his mind. Your main focus was learning new information on medicine but you always made sure to visit Bucky. You both got pretty close... Light touches, lingering hugs, and often staring at each other when the other wasn't looking became a commonality. It was obvious feelings of love were blossoming for you, but you weren't fully sure if he felt the same.

After the battle you both stayed in contact, but he decided to reside in D.C. while you laid roots back in the familiarity of New York. You both made sure to visit each when possible, but it had been about a month and a half since you last saw him.

"Hey, Buck." You smiled, answering his call. "It's been a few days, usually you make sure to call every other night. Are you okay?"

"I..." You heard him sigh, making you sit up straight.  "I need a favor, doll."

"Of course, you know I would do practically anything for you."

"That applies to me too right?" You heard Sam in the background, making you chuckle.

"Yes, it does Sam. How are you?"

"I've been better, these past few days have been rough but I'll let Stare-a-tron explain it to you." You heard a wack and an 'ow' come from Sam.

"So..." Bucky started but didn't continue.

"So...?"

"So, have you paid any attention to the news regarding Munich?"

"I have now connected the dots."

"What?"

"You broke a certain terrorist out of jail didn't you, James." You groan. When you saw the news about Zemo you couldn't possibly connect it to Buck and Sam, but with this call and a need of a favor instantly made you realize.

"Technically, (Y/N), he broke himself out."

"Do I need to slap some sense into you? He killed King  T'Chaka. He broke up the Avengers--"

"I know, I know." You heard him sigh. You listened in closer and heard some background traffic noise that sounded like the streets of New York. "Listen, we need a place to lay low for a bit in the States and your the only person I can one-hundred percent trust. I can't tell you more on the phone but please-"

"Yes, yes of course Buck. You guys, well minus Zemo, are welcomed here for whatever reason. Do you need me to text you the address?"

"Nah, we are actually about to enter your apartment building."

"Well hurry up so we can decide on take out." You chuckled and hung up the phone. You only had to wait a few minutes before you heard knocking at your door. Wasting no time you opened the door as fast as you can and practically tackle Bucky into a hug.

He chuckled gently, "I missed you too, doll."

You released him from your hold and grinned as Sam. "Come here Sam, I haven't seen you in a few months." You pulled him into a less dramatic but friendly hug.

"Good to see you too, (Y/N)." Sam and Buck made their way into the apartment leaving you faced to face with Zemo.

"Hello." You greeted, offering a differential handshake.

"Hello, (Y/N). I hope all is well." He accepted the short handshake and gave an equally differential smile before entering your apartment.

"Welcome to my humble abode, make yourselves at home here. I have two bedrooms so we better discuss sleeping arrangements-"

"Easy, I call dibs bunking with you while Wings and Zemo stay in your spare room." Bucky interrupted.

"Hold up, why can't you stay with creepy-magee? I'm sure you two would love to stare at each other." Sam argued.

"Because I called dibs, isn't that right Doll?"

"He did call dibs, Sam." You shrugged and laugh at his look of betrayal.

You heard Zemo start to speak but Sam beat him to it, "You don't get an opinion." Zemo simply put his hands up and surrendered while the other two kept arguing about the concept of dibs.

"Anyways I'll order some Chinese food and we can discuss why you three are here over dinner."

--------

Your mind was blown.

Bucky and Sam filled you in on Isaiah, the return of super soldiers, why they needed Zemo, and the issues they had with the New Captain America. You also almost chastised Bucky for missing his mandated therapy session but decided to keep eating your food and let him continue.

"Wow, that is fucking nuts. Super soldiers, huh?" You sigh. As much as you didn't want to, you had a feeling they would need your help with fighting. After all you fought along with the original Captain America, so you picked up ways to fight super soldiers.

"Yeah, after Madripoor we need to lay low. Hopefully no one spotted us." Sam said, starting to pick up his dishes. Everyone seemed to follow suit and you were about to speak again when you heard knocking at your door.

"Hey, can you take these  for me? I'll go answer the door." You slid your stuff towards Buck who looked at you worried.

"Do you want one of us to answer the door with you?"

"Nah I should be fine, it's probably Mrs. Espinoza looking for her sons cat." You waved him off, making your way to the door. You unlock your locks and crack open the door.

There stood Frank fucking Castle, covered in an obscene amount of blood while using  the wall for support.

"Hey..." He greeted with a hoarse voice and a weak attempt of a smile.

"Holy shit, Frank." You said barely above a whisper. "Fuck, can one you guys come here?!" You shouted, opening the door wider while taking one his arms over your shoulder.

"What the hell, (Y/N)?" Bucky looked at you and the blood soaked Punisher with bewilderment.

"I'll explain in a bit! Just help me take him to the couch. Sam go get my medical bag, it's in my closet in the room on the left! Zemo clear everyones stuff from the couch." You barked out orders while you and James carefully led Frank to the couch. When Zemo cleared it off and Sam came running out with your bag, you both laid him down on the couch.

With no hesitation you quickly wash your hands and prepare your equipment.

"Are you going to tell us what the hell is happening right now, (Y/N)?" Buck asked.

"I am also wondering why we have a beaten guy on your couch." Sam's face was full of worry.

You sigh and begin removing Franks clothes to look for any life threatening wounds. "This is the Punisher. If you haven't kept up with the more lower level news he is one of the vigilantes."

"That doesn't explain why he is here."

"I... I am friends with him and Daredevil. I patch them up so they can avoid the hospital." You see a bullet wound on his side, it was bad but it was manageable with an exit wound. "One of you hold him up so I can stitch his back."

Bucky immediately joined your side, using his enhanced strength to hold up Frank.

"You gonna introduce me to your friends here, (Y/N)?" Frank rasped. "I gotta know whose cold ass hand is touchin' me."

"I'll introduce you to them later, let me get you stable."

-----

After what felt like hours, you finished dressing a gash on his thigh. You peel of your bloodied gloves and get up from kneeling on the floor. You helped sit Frank up so he can get a good look at whose here.

"Frank, this is Sam Wilson and James Barnes. I worked and fought with them as an Avenger." You gesture to the two. You saw him eyeing Buck before giving you a knowing look. You both were friends after all, he knew of your feelings towards Bucky.

"Who's the guy in the pimp coat?" He grunted and gestured towards Zemo, who rolled his eyes.

"Baron Zemo. Escapee prisoner."

"Zemo? As in the guy who bombed the UN? Do you need me to-"

"No Frank, they need him alive." You chuckled.

"Well, it's good to put faces to names. Especially yours, James." Frank spoke, nudging you. "I'll get my spare clothes and rinse off the blood now, something tells me the guest room will be taken." You were going to protest but knew Frank was too stubborn to listen. The four of you watched him make his way to the guest room before closing the door.

"Oh so he knows about us but we don't know about him?" Sam arched a brow at you. Bucky stayed silent, clenching both his fists.

You sigh, "I am sorry for not telling you guys. I didn't keep my involvement with vigilantes away from you both on purpose, I promise."

"Can we trust the Punisher? Will everything be safe with all of us here?"

"You don't have to worry about me talking." Frank came out of the room in new clothes, using a damp towel to wipe his face. "(Y/N)'s stuck her neck out for me countless times. I owe it to her."

"If (Y/N) trusts you then we trust you."

"As much as I want to stay up, I think it is best we get some sleep. Tomorrow we can talk more." You stretch and yawn and everyone seemed to agree. Castle put a pillow on the couch and grabbed a spare blanket you had lying around.

"C'mon man you can have the bed. You look like you got the shit beaten out of you." Sam said.

"Nah it's fine. I'm a light sleeper. I can stay out here in case he," Castle pointed to Zemo, "tries somethin'."

"C'mon Buck, your rooming with me." You smile and grab his non-vibranium hand.

"I don't want to share a room with Zemo." Falcon groaned

"Bucky did call dibs after all."

You said goodnight to Sam, and gave Frank a quick hug goodnight before you and James went into your bedroom, a duffel bag in his hand.

James was feeling jealous. He didn't want to admit it but watching how friendly you were with Frank Castle made his feelings worse.  He could pick up the familiarity between the two of you and how easy you were able to talked to him. Frank was someone in your life Bucky didn't know existed.  How close were you to the Punisher?

Thoughts of you and Frank entered his head but he quickly tried to dismiss them. It made his chest ache just thinking about you and another man. Yeah, Buck was smitten with you. But the feelings of self-doubt and guilt always made it hard for him to confess. With the addition of Frank? Made it almost impossible.

"You can use the bathroom to change while I cahnge out here." Your voice snaps him out of his thoughts. He nodded silently, clenching his jaw, while entering the bathroom.

Your stare lingered at the door before you quickly put on a different set of comfortable clothes, discarding your previous clothes to the floor. You picked up on his sudden quietness and you hoped he wasnt truly mad at you. With a quiet sigh you slid under the blankets of your bed and waited for Bucky so you could get to bed. You and Bucky have shared the floor and bed before, and you were able to keep it together.

But after everything that has happened, after finally seeing him after almost two months, it made you feel nervous. You weren't sure if it was exhaustion or stress, but your feelings for Bucky suddenly felt overwhelming.

If that wasn't enough, you felt like your face was burning when he stepped out from the bathroom, wearing just his boxers and dogtags.

"I, uh, hope you don't mind. I found sleeping without a shirt easier to deal with nightmares. Helps cool me off."

"No, no. Don't worry at all Buck." You smile but it felt like your heart was going to leap out of your chest. He smiled briefly before he turned out the lights, joining you in bed. You both laid on your sides, back facing back. You shut your eyes and try to focus on sleeping, but the image of shirtless, only in boxers James flooded your thoughts.

"Doll?" James voice cut through the silence.

"Y-yes, Buck?"

"Who... Who is Frank  to you?" He asked in a low, dejected tone. Your eyes snap open. What kind of question was that from him?

"What do you mean?" You roll to face him but his back was still towards you.

"Are you and Frank..." He paused, "just ignore it, nevermind."

"Bucky, face me." He didn't  respond. "Please, James." You heard him sigh but he complied, turning to face you. The subtle light from your window made it easier to see his handsome face in the dark. You gulped, trying to muster an ounce of courage to tell him these feelings you've held for him for years.

"Frank and I are strictly friends. Before he became the Punisher he had a wife and two kids who he loved dearly. They-they were killed in front of him. He loved his wife dearly and I don't think he is looking to start dating anytime soon." You sigh and things go silent for a moment.

You rested a hand on his cheek and scooch closer. "James, I... I really enjoy spending time with you. I enjoy your presence. After all that we have been through,  with getting the code words out your head to losing Steve... I want to be by your side no matter what." You felt tears prick your eyes.

"I feel the same way about you doll." James spoke, just above a whisper. "You help ground me and honestly you help keep me sane." His hand found its way above yours that was cupping his cheek. Gently he moved your hand to his lips. He placed a soft kiss to your knuckles before moving it over his heart. "I've felt this for a while and I never had much courage to say it before but... I love you, (Y/N)."

"I love you too, James." You smile, a few happy tears managed to escape your eyes.

"C'mere." He helped move you close to him, pulling you into a deep hug. The chill of his vibranium arm caused goosebumps but the warmth of his other arm gave you comfort.

You wrap your arms around his bare torso and snuggled your face into his neck. God he smelt good. With a little courage coursing through you, you gave him a small kiss on the neck before giving him a little love bite, nothing that would bruise.

Bucky chuckled moving a part from you, just enough to get a full look at your face. Without saying anything he leaned in, his eyes hooded, placing his lips on yours. One of his hands found its way to your head while the other rested on your hip. You pushed your body closer to his, while gently dragging your nails across his back.

"Mm Doll." He mumbled against your lips. "I... I want to continue this with you if that's alright with you."

"Yes, Bucky." And in an instant after giving him the word, he maneuvered you onto your back while he hovered on top of you, his dogtags dangling down. He removed them from his body.

"Don't want those hitting your pretty face." He smiled and leaned in to kiss you once again, this time him slipped his tongue into your mouth, deepening the kiss. His warm hand rested on your neck before he slowly dragged it down your chest and to the hem of your shirt. He messed with it a little, teasing to go underneath.  You whine a bit and arch your back as he kept messing with it.

"May I?" You simply nod in response. He pushed himself away from you and took the hem of your shirt, helping you remove it. The cold air hitting your now exposed chest made you shiver. "No bra? Naughty." He smirked.

"I'm not the one who came out only his his boxers."

"Touché." He tossed your shirt onto the ground and soaked in the view below him. The perfect lighting leaking through the blinds illuminated everything in just the right way. James licked his lips, "You are gorgeous, doll."

"You're pretty handsome yourself." You smile, which made him smile.

"Let me treat you like a goddess. Let me repay the favor." Without another word James attacked your neck with his mouth, nipping and sucking on the area. He continued leaving love marks from your neck down to your chest slowly. The sensation made you moan as tingles went through your body. You felt yourself getting wetter as he continued to leave hickies on your chest.

Bucky used his non-vibranium hand to cup your right breast, kneading it gently. Maintaining eye contact with you his leans his head down to your free breast before giving your raised nipple a quick lick. The feel made your body shake ever so slightly, making him smirk at the reaction. He did it again, although this time slower before latching on, using his tongue to swipe over the sensitive bump.

"Bucky-" You gasped. You felt heat slowly build in your core, not enough to have you screaming, but enough to feel pleasurable. "That feels so good." He continued giving your tender breasts and nipples attention, slowly building you up.

"Lets get these pajama shorts off." He sat up again, moving himself lower on the bed. He gripped the waistband of your shorts and began slowly removing them while you lifted your legs to help. Discarding them like your shirt, he tosses those articles of clothing to the floor. You were left with just your panties

His hands take your knees and help spread your legs farther a part, soaking in the view of your body spread out. His mouth found its place on your in thigh. He left small kissed, sometimes little bites, and he dragged his mouth closer and closer to your wet pussy. "I want to taste you doll, is that alright?"

"Y-yes Bucky, please." You begged, adjusting your hips ever so slightly. "I want to feel you more."

"As you wish." He smirked. Before he removes your panties he places soft kissed over the fabric covering your pussy. You stifle a moan, as he continued to tease you against the fabric. When he was done, he remove your underwear with ease.

"You are stunning, absolutely stunning." His hand found its way to your slit. He gently  brushed his fingers over your sensitive skin, making your body twitch ever so slightly. "You're so wet for me, already." His tongue slowly and softly dragged around your vagina and clit, the teasing is back on.

"A-Ah!" You quietly moaned, trying to keel your voice down. You moan again when you felt one metal finger enter slowly while his mouth latched to your clit. One of your hands reached down to grip his hair as he began to finger and play with your clitoris.

The pleasure had your curling your toes. You had to bite your lip to hold back from moaning loudly. You didn't feel like waking up the others.

Another finger entered as he started to speed up his motions, his tongue and mouth still on your clitoris.

"That feels so good." You said with an airy tone as he continued to work.

"You taste divine." His breath against your sensitive skin made you your thighs clamp around his head. The pleasure was building up and you felt like your were close to cumming.

"J-James, - oh god!" You kept your voice down but the work he is doing to your clit made it hard to stay quiet. "Fuck-"

James give your clit one last lick before sitting, removing his fingers in the process. He then licked his fingers clean as he stared down at your panting body. He could feel his cock wanting to be free from his boxers so he removed them, letting his large erection out. He watched you squirm as you awaited for his touch again.

"Do you want my dick inside you, doll?"

"Ye-yes please." You begged, wiggling your hips for him. "Please!"

"God your so hot." He leaned back over you, placing a sloppy kiss on your mouth. You could taste yourself on his lips. Lining himself up to your entrance he looked to you. "Ready?"

"Yes!" He smiled, and slowly slide his cock inside you. You gasp as you feel him stretch you out, tears stinging your eyes. He stopped once he was fully in, letting you have a moment to get adjusted. "I don't know how I'll keep my voice down."

"Bury your face into my neck, I want to hear you moan my name."

You did what he suggested, you wrapped your arms around his torso while he used his vibranium arm to stay stable and his other arm around your head to keep himself close to you. His body was completely on top of yours.

"You can move now."

James slowly moved his hips away, almost entirely removing his cock from you except the tip before thrusting back in. Your moan was successful smothered by his body. He continued thrust himself inside your pussy, the sound of skin slapping skin filled the room.

"O-Oh James- yesyesyes," You mewl. "You feel so good." You heard him let out a husky groan in your ear.

"I love it when you say my name, (Y/N)." He whispered in your ear as he kept his pace. You continue to moan out his name, gripping him tight as his thrust got faster. "Fuck, your so tight."

"Shit- faster!" You begged and he obliged. "You're so good to me Bucky. You-you're perfect." You could feel his thrust starting to gst sloppy as you felt waves of pleasure course through your body.

"Baby you make me crazy." He moaned. You could feel his hand make its way down to your clit, and your body arches against his as he pressed down on the sensitive bud. He practically started pounding your pussy as he moaned in your ear.

"James I'm gonna- I'm so close!" You cry out as the the feeling kept building.

"Do it, cum for me."

It was like everything in your body started shake as the pressure finally snaps in your core. You bury your face into his chest and moan his name as blinding, white hot pleasure filled your being. Your walls tighten around his cock  and you feel him start to tense.

His thrusts became harder before he finally released his thick cum inside of you before collapse onto of you, panting. Both of you were sweaty and breathing hard, but neither of you moved. The feeling of his cock inside you, twitching, was extremely hot.

"You're amazing, (Y/N)." He grinned, making you smiled.

"You're the best damn thing in my life, James."

---------

You woke up naked the next morning, curled up to an equally naked, sleeping Bucky. You smiled, remembering last nights confession and everything after that. You watch him sleep for a moment before deciding to slip out of bed to make everyone breakfast. You throw on the pajamas you wore before hand and quietly leave the room.

You close the door as quietly as and turned around, only to see Frank sitting at the table reading a magazine you had lying around.

"Oh good morning Frank." You smiled and walked past him, hoping he wouldn't notice anything. "I'm gonna make some breakfast for everyone."

"Morning, (Y/N)." He grunted. "Sleep well?"

You almost choked on air, "Yes, I did. How about you?"

"Oh you know, the couch is alright but I am a light sleeper remember? I kept hearing weird noises through the night. " Your face felt on fire as you turned to face him. He wore a smug smirk on his face. "Got something on your neck there."

You rush to grab your phone and look in the camera. Low and behold, hickies were left on your neck. "Shit."

Frank snorted, "So you finally got with your crush, huh?"

"Oh shut it you grump."

"I'm just teasing you. You know I'm happy for you, (Y/N)."

"Thanks, Frank."

Frank decided to help you with breakfast, taking on making bacon and sausage while you attended to making pancakes. And sure enough the rest of the people in the apartment came out.

"They're gonna see them. "

"I know, I am bracing myself for Sam's teasing." You sigh. You go and place the plate  pancakes you made on the table while Frank placed the bacon and sausage he made.

"G'morning, doll. I missed ya in the morning." Bucky approached you, wrapping his arms around your waist.

"I wanted you to wake up to some breakfast." You grinned and placed a chaste kiss on his lips.

"Did you finally confess your feelings?" You heard Sam. "I gotta get ahold of Tic Tac and Clint they owe- what the hell is on your neck (Y/N), is that what I think it is?" He groaned and sat at the table, everyone taking their spots.

"Hickies are messages on the body that can show ones presence on another-" Zemo spoke but was cut off by Sam.

"I do not want to know, Zemo. Lets just eat."

Breakfast was great. You were surprised Frank got along with the others, though it did take some talking to by Sam to break him out of his shell. You also could have sworn Buck and Frank had a stare down at one point but were both laughing and smiling.

You take hold of Bucks hand that was on the table and give it a light squeeze, smiling at him while he smiled back. Life was pleasant even after these emergency visits.

#james bucky barnes #james barnes #james barnes x reader #james barnes imagine #james barnes imagines #Bucky Barnes #bucky #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagines #bucky barnes imagine #the falcon and the winter soldier #tfatws #marvel #marvel x reader #marvel imagine #marvel imagines #sam wilson #frank castle #baron zemo #smut #reader insert #reader insert smut #the winter solider #the winter solider x reader #the winter soldier imagines #the winter solider imagine #winter solider smut

[selfawarejester]

Hey can u please do a teen wolf imagine set in season 2 where she is either Scott or stiles sister and she is sneaking around with isaac (they kinda had a thing before he got the bite and after isaac got more confident so he made a move)and isaac sneaks into her room at night and instead of Allison it’s is y/n that Matt was stalking and taking pictures of and obsessed with and he had pictures of her and isaac kissing and stuff and maybe he leaves the pictures in her locker and it freaks her out and you decide the rest. (Sorry it’s a bit dark)

Oh, I love me some Isaac!!! Forgive me if I get some details wrong, it’s been a while since I saw s2. And I’m gonna make you Scotty boi’s sister, because Melissa 🥰

You weren’t the dating type, much to the relief of your mother and your brother - and for some reason, Stiles, but you preferred to pretend that you didn’t know that. - which is why it was such a shock when you drag Isaac Lahey of all people to sit with them during lunch one day.

“I don’t think this is a good idea, Y/N-“ Isaac tires to say, shooting the boys a wary look, but you just shush him and shove him into a seat. You brightly grin at the shocked faces Scott and Stiles before confessing that you’d been dating Isaac for a while now.

Scott freezes for a full thirty seconds.

Stiles chokes on his hashbrowns, and almost dies in that same time period.

“Da- you’re dating him?” He splutters, pointing at a smirking Isaac. “You’re dating him? Oh my god, what the- Scott, say something.”

Stiles gives you a look that says ‘you’re gonna get it now’ which slowly slides off when Scott just keeps quiet, staring at you with wide eyes.

“Wha- Scott, say something.” He grits out, and you roll your eyes, tired of their dramatics.

“All right, enough! Seriously, people are staring.”

That gets Scott moving again, as he looks around to find that people are, indeed, staring. He’s still shocked because when did you start dating?? But now he’s asking questions like when did you two start dating? Why did you keep it a secret so long?

He always knew you kind of had a thing for him: all the flirty banter, and the lovelorn glances…

You and Isaac started up two months ago, you explain, but it’s been pretty low-key so that he can hide it from his dad. (You don’t outwardly say this, exchanging a specific look, but both you and Scott have been pretty sure something was going very wrong in the Lahey household — Scott had smelt blood and fear wafting off of Isaac way too often for it not to be.) So he kinda just?? Accepts it??

He’s concerned, duh, but you’re so happy and he doesn’t want to get in the way of that. But he sternly tells Isaac he’ll kick his ass if he hurts you. Isaac, to his credit, stifles his laughter and genuinely tells him that he’d rather die than hurt you; and that’s good enough for Scotty.

Of course, all of this changes when Isaac becomes a beta.

He does it for you. He wants to be able to protect you, to love you without fear of losing you or getting you in trouble. Derek’s assured him that your protection is a priority of the pack, because even in his slightly power-greedy Alpha state, Derek wouldn’t let what happened to him and Paige happen to his beta.

Stiles and Scott hover around you throughout the whole time Isaac is suspected of murdering his father. Sheriff Stilinski tried to kick them out during your questioning, but they squeezed onto the small couch in his office and just stared at him the whole time. You were shocked and scared and obviously didn’t know anything, so he sent you home pretty quick.

Melissa’s freaked out because 1) you lied to her?? 2) you’re dating now 3) and it’s a boy suspected of murder. So, yeah, maybe she’s questioning her parenting a bit, but she’s really trying to be supportive.

Scott corners Isaac at school (Stiles is there too, naturally) after the whole ice rink thing, without Erica or Derek, and he swears he’d never hurt you. Unfortunately, you walk in right at that moment.

You know when both of them are lying, so you force the truth of them, then and there. You get thrown off guard, of course — they thought you’d react like Stiles, or just like most of the people in those movies react: with a lot of surprise but general and immediate acceptance.

You do immediately do something: leave and avoid both of them for the next couple of days. Your mom’s curious as to why you’re so distant, and why Scott keeps begging you to talk to him, and why you’re avoiding him -- but ultimately, she lets sleeping dogs lie, because she hopes you’ll come to her with something really important.

You hang out with Lydia and Allison a lot more, Allison backing up for Scott by keeping you safe — she tries to defend him for you, but you make it clear you need a lot of time before you can think about that stuff. She also tries to turn you against Isaac, but you’re even more closed off to that.

Lydia is a fresh breath of air, because she is just as confused about this (even if it’s only possibilities and vague stuff) and she doesn’t wanna know more either. She keeps things light between you and Allison, and keeps your mind off of things. But it doesn’t work when Allison and the others drag you guys to your house for a weird “study session” that gets crashed by a giant lizard thing- god, this was your life now.

Isaac grabbed you, and locked you in a bathroom before the whole thing really started. You scream at him to stop, scream for Scott, and beat on his chest, but he just screws his eyes shut and forces you in there — he knows you’ll hate him afterwards, but he also knows you might run straight at the Kanima if it came for him or Scott.

You do hate him afterwards. A little part of you understands why he did it, and it’s unfortunately the same part that still loves him. But you’re still hugely pissed off, especially after Scott and Stiles tell you that he tried to kill Lydia. So the next day, when he tries to talk to you at school, you glare at him until he goes away.

In swoops Matt, all “charming” smiles and “funny” jokes. He sees his chance: months of watching you and Isaac be all cutesy had paid off. He knew what kind of humor you liked — unfortunately, all it did was remind you of your boyfriend and keep you guys at a distance.

God, he hated it. Bad enough that someone was keeping you from him, but that it was Lahey. The brother of the guy that drowned him, the son of the guy that screamed in his face about how it was his fault- no. He had to break you up.

So he consolidated all the pictures that he’d taken of you: candids of you at school, at home, at the coffee place you liked. He slips them into your locker, and watches you squirm and look around. It’s working. Then, it’s those pictures of you and Isaac, kissing at your secret spot, necking in your bedroom, smiling at each other — labels it “Remember the good times?”

You’re trying to talk about it to Scott, Allison and Stiles, but they’re busy with the Kanima. Lydia tries to help, but she’s so out of it and she has been for a while and you’re starting to get worried.

It gets to a point where you run to Isaac, tears in your eyes, and photographs in your hands. “Is this you?” You sob, and he just pulls you into his arms shushing you - “No! No, babe, I’d never do that!” - and promises to keep you safe. You stay glued to his side after that. Boyd is nice and calm, a contrast to Derek who creeps you out a little.

Through his first full moon, you stay with him and keep him grounded. Your voice keeps his father’s out of his head, keeps him in control.

You’re standing off in a corner, watching with a smirk as Erica - who you’ve gotten weirdly close to in the past few weeks - and Isaac double team Jackson (it’s actually… kinda hot? Especially because damn Isaac keeps looking at you); but your view gets obstructed by Matt. He’s trying to talk to you but you barely listen, keeping eye contact with Isaac over his shoulder. Then they leave with Jackson, and Matt makes a move on you. You flinch away so hard, you hit the counter and get the bartender’s attention.

You confront him about the pictures and he splutters for an excuse. The bartender kicks out Matt, seeing your distress, who’s now more desperate for your attention than ever.

Matt - or the Kanima- kidnaps you during Lydia’s party and keeps you in his basement. You’re scared out of your mind, begging for him to let you go, but he promises you that there won’t be anyone in your ways from now on. While everyone’s dealing with the fiasco at the police station, Isaac, Boyd and Erica come get you.

He’s trying not to cry when he sees your busted lip, the bruises around your wrists where you were tied down.

Boyd and Erica decided to leave, but Isaac didn’t want to leave you behind. So he goes to Scott and Deaton, and becomes a good guy, helps out with Jackson and everything!

He also starts living with you guys, which you’re very excited about ;) But Melissa is very careful about leaving you two alone. And Scott’s stupid senses screw you over in that he interrupts every time you get to more than kissing.

But you find ways. 😉😏😏

Hope you liked it! I think I changed a few things, and I tried to keep the canon timelines for everything, but yeah!

#isaac lahey #isaac lahey x reader #scott mccall #stiles stilinski #scott mccall x reader #stiles stilinski x reader #teen wolf #teen wolf x reader #teen wolf imagines #isaac lahey imagines #gabiwrites

[cameoamalthea]

I think it's interesting how many people were wanting Jester to leave Artagan and go with the Moonweaver (who is awesome btw). I can't properly convey how relieved I am that didn't happen and that their already strong bond was made stronger and they both grew from it. Because that is how good relationships work and people are capable of changing for the better. Finding new faith worked for Fjord, but I don't believe it would have worked for Jester the same way. What they have can't be replaced.

If Artagan was forcibly taken from Jester it would have been traumatizing for Jester. 

What the Mighty Nein, and perhaps a portion of the fandom, don’t understand is that Jester is a depressed lonely person who hides it. She puts on a mask of always happy and fine, it’s ok. She’s not ok and they don’t see it. Jester is also afraid of being alone, which plays into her fear of being disliked and abandoned. 

Whether or not anyone else likes Artagan, Jester LOVES him and she has some serious attachment issues so just ripping him away from her would be super harmful.

There’s a scene in C2E19 where the party sees a shack and wants to investigate it. Jester suggests turning Frumpkin into a bird to go check it out since it’s like a mile away. Caleb does not like the idea, but then playfully says for you Fjord I will do it. Jester responds by being dramatic and pouting about him shooting her down but being willing to do it for Fjord. 

LAURA: Can Frumpkin be a bird? 

LIAM: (reluctantly) Yeah. 

TALIESIN: For a bit. 

TRAVIS: I want to check out the shack. 

LIAM: All right. For you, Fjord, I will make Frumpkin a bird. 

LAURA: Not for me, though. Caleb hates me.

SAM: We could just walk over there. It's a hassle to turn him into a bird. 

TRAVIS: Yeah. Keep your cat. 

LIAM: You are more sensitive than I would have imagined. 

LAURA: I want people to like me.

Caleb is extremely observant and although this is a light, playful scene, says something that cuts really close. “You are more sensitive than I would have imagined.” She’s being over the top and dramatic, he criticizes her, and since what she was joking about what is actually some real insecurity she kind of deflates, her voice gets real small and she says “I want people to like me.” 

It’s a blink and you’ll miss it moment made harder to catch by the fact everyone is talking at once and Laura is eating pizza (role-playing with your mouth full - this is not to shame her for eating, she is entitled to that pizza, but it might make it harder to pick up on the moment). However, I think this touches upon something important. 

Jester is in fact extremely insecure about being liked, and you see this with her relationship with the Traveler. Worrying that he might not like her now that she has other friends at first, and constantly needing reassurance that she’s the most important. 

There’s a brilliant thread on reddit that sums up Jester’s character as follows:

“She's a people-pleaser because she's afraid to lose people. She grew up with the only 'low resource' being people - caring, loving, laughing people. She had her mother, who definitely loves her, but that was it. Most children have scores of people, and other children! to play with. Jester didn't.

And she's afraid to lose that, at any cost. Even realizing she was manipulated, keeping Artagen is more important than standing up for herself or showing her disappointment, because she can't lose him.

Onto - Artagen. What we know:

He's openly admitted to being manipulative and selfish

More importantly: he's openly admitted to never wanting to be bored and never wanting to 'get into emotions'

This REALLY matters. Why?

Because Jester is afraid of losing everyone so she can't be what those people don't want.

Jester can't be upset in front of Artagen because he might get bored with all of her emotions and leave.

It's crazy important for her to be his favorite because, as she is helping him leave all of his followers (her biggest fear) he keeps saying he won't leave her.”

Jester has pretty serious abandonment issues. Children need the attention and support of a caregiver. RedditTotalWar made a great point on that reddit thread: “A significant withdrawal of attention is often enough to cause a child to develop abandonment issues. Children don't have the capacity to realize that some things aren't about them since they are the centers of their own universe.” So the fact Jester’s mother, who clearly loves her and is a good person, did not always have time for her and required Jester to keep her existence secret is damaging. 

Note, this is not to suggest that Marrion is a bad person or was intentionally abusive. You don’t have to be a monster to hurt a child. Disney example: In Tangled, Mother Gothel isolated Rapunzel and was an abuser who just wanted to use her. In Frozen, Anna’s Mother and Father isolated Anna out of a desire to do what they thought was best for their other daughter Elsa and to protect Anna from what they saw as the threat posed by Elsa’s magic. Anna’s parents were not intentionally abusive and loved their children, but Anna was still neglected and isolated and harmed by their actions.

To Jester, the message she got growing up was ‘Momma loves me, but she’s busy and I can’t get in the way and no one can know I exist’ which could easily be taken as ‘Momma loves me, but I’m not the most important thing to her’ or even ‘Momma loves me, but my existence makes her life harder, so maybe I’m not completely lovable since I’m a problem’. 

And while you may think, if she was that worried why would she act out and play pranks and cause trouble, the fact is that children who are insecure about being loved may self-sabotage with caregivers. You see a high rate of disruption in foster children right before adoption because the child starts exhibiting behaviors. Perhaps faced with the fear of, maybe my parental won’t love me if I cause trouble, it feels safer just deliberately causing trouble because then at least you’re the one in control rather than walking on eggshells terrified that messing up could mean abandonment. 

The fact that Jester’s prank on Lord Sharp resulted in her having to leave the only home she’s ever known and never come back under threat of death and that her Mother could not (or in her mind, would not?) protect her may have made her abandonment issues a lot worse. 

Jester is terrified of being left alone, of being abandoned. Taking away the one person who has been a constant in her life and who she has felt safe with all at once would not be good. As Laura said on her playlist “he’s always been the one person she could show her insecurities to” and losing that stable, trusted person would hurt. 

 I don’t think her relationship with Artagan is entirely healthy (it’s not healthy for a child to grow up with only one other friend and her attachment to him extreme and also he’s a selfish, manipulative Archfey - I don’t think Artagan thinks this relationship is entirely healthy). However, I do not think it would have been better for her to have him ripped away like that. Especially given the fact that the whole Moonweaver thing was her idea and she would likely blame herself for what happened. 

How devastating would that be for someone with Jester’s level of insecurity? 

The Mighty Nein, and again a portion of the fandom, may have preferred it if Jester broke up with Artagan and moved on or found a new god. Fjord’s relationship with Uk’otoa (Uk’atoa) was toxic and abusive, so the Mighty Nein are very wary of that sort of relationship. Fjord if projecting and thinks that any relationship with a powerful being that isn’t a god is dangerous. 

The truth is Jester’s relationship with Artagan isn’t really like one of cleric and god. It’s more like a personal relationship where he happens to give her divine powers.

LAURA: I take a bite of my caramel apple, and I go walking down.

MATT: You hear a crunch sound and your handshakes for a second and you look down and a mysterious secondary bite was taken out of the apple.

LAURA: (gasp) I lick the spot.

(groaning)

SAM: You're making out with your god? Gross.

MATT: They have a special relationship.

A special relationship indeed, Matt. It’s intimate, she talks to him about her crushes and asks him for advice on boys then casually confesses love to him.

LAURA: You're not jealous, are you?

MATT: "No."

LAURA: You'll always be my number one love.

MATT: "I know.”

Fjord is an orphan who was looking for parental figures. Vandren was a mentor and father figure, and it was through Vandren that Fjord gained his connection to Uk’otoa. The Wild Mother felt Motherly to Fjord and in Talks Travis said that when Matt first described the feeling his thoughts were on like have I found my Mother somehow. To Fjord religion is a divine parent, an authority figure who provides guidance and direction, and in the case of the Wild Mother love and support for him. 

Jester has never seen the Traveler as a ‘dad figure’. He’s just her best friend and based on her behavior towards him and jealousy towards his other followers, and the number of love songs on Laura’s playlist, I’m pretty convinced that Jester is IN LOVE with him. 

(I don’t know if that feeling is required. Given they grew up together with him in the form of another child and the fact Artagan is actually ancient, I think he sees her more like a little sister. This might be why he was so confused when she grabbed his face and leaned in like she was about to kiss him despite the fact that like she’s flat out told him that he’s her number one love and requires constant reassurance that she’s his favorite and acts like a schoolgirl with a very obvious crush)

And again, all of this may not be healthy or ideal for Jester. She might get hurt. However, I think in order to grow the relationship has to run it’s course no matter what happens. Artagan not only acted completely selflessly by kicking her off of him rather than face the possibility that she’d have to choose between him and or friends or be banished with him but like - he apologized to her. 

An actual, real, non-manipulative apology. He admitted he was manipulative and he’s sorry and when she tries to play it off as it’s fine, he says he doesn’t want to defend himself. He’s sorry.

That’s growth.

#artagan #jester lavorre #Critical role spoilers #critical role #critical role meta #meta #essays #Anonymous

[strangeartwritingoaf]

|| So in honor of the S4 being out for almost a year come early June I wrote this for a group of friends, and I highly doubt anyone outside of them will see this, but if you do and you like it, let me know ❤. I've been working on it the last couple of days, and I have a sequel coming up of Justin actually crossing over and finding peace.

LOVE IS GONE

🎵 I'm sorry. Don't leave me. I want you here with me. I know that your love is gone. I can't breathe. I'm so weak. I know this isn't easy. Don't tell me that your love is gone, that your love is gone. 🎵

Prom. It was something that Justin had been looking forward to all year. How could he not? After all, what could possibly be better than dancing with the love of his life and making memories with those he loved the most? Nothing, that's what.

In recent weeks however, Justin hadn't been himself at all. He was hardly eating, and when he was he would always seemed so sickly. He was having terrible night sweats, coughing and headaches were also something Justin couldn't seem to be able to get rid of recently as well. At first Justin chalked it up to be withdraw symptoms or allergies, but that couldn't be it. After all the allergy and flu meds he had been given nothing was helping, if anything it was making the sickness worse, and he hadn't relapsed in months. On top of that he seemed to have marks on his neck that he didn't know how he had gotten. It looked almost like a bruise of some sort, yet he hadn't been in a single fight since the Riot, and even then he came out unharmed.

Regardless of how he was feeling, he knew he needed to force himself up out of bed, put on the tuxedo, and get his ass to this dance. Jessica and Clay were depending on him being there. Jessica had put a lot on the line to make prom possible in the first place and he wasn't about to let all of her hard work go to waist.

As the brunette pushes himself up weakly off the bed he could here Jensen's voice ringing in his head. "I'm really worried about you." 

"Yeah?" Justin remembered commenting  back. "I'm worried about me too...." Justin couldn't allow himself to be the reason that Clay and Jessica wouldn't have a good time  tonight. After all the shit he had managed to put them through in the past year, he'd be dammed if he was going to let them worry about him instead of dancing and having fun. They didn't deserve that.

It took the boy awhile, but upon getting dressed and fixing his hair he headed into the main house, seeing Matt getting ready to watch a movie. "Justin, hey.. what're you still doing here? I thought you guys had already left for the dance?"  Matt asked sitting his popcorn to the side. "No--C-Clay did. He went with Charlie and Alex. Clay offered to let me tag along earlier but I wasn't feeling much like going then."

Mr. Jensen's face filled with worry at the boy's comment. "Don't worry though-- I'm feeling much better now. I promise."  Justin lied as he put on a soft fake smile. Justin could tell by Matt's face that he wasn't buying it. He knew something was wrong, but he didn't want to pry too much. "Ohh? You are? That's good to hear. Care to join me for a movie? Lanny's at the dace chaperoning, so it's just us guys here tonight. If that's something you're up for?"

Justin was tempted to take him up on the movie offer, but he couldn't let Jessica and Clay down. He was determined to let them have the prom that they both deserved. "A-actually, if you don't mind, c-could you maybe drive me to the dance? I could ride back home with Clay so you wouldn't have to worry about picking me up. I just--I really wanna go to be with all of them, you know?"  Justin asked, watching as the older male nodded to him, standing up from the couch to find his keys. "Of course. Just let me get my keys and we'll head out."  Justin nods as he looks around the room, his hand resting on the arm of the couch so he could  keep his balance up.

This didn't go unnoticed from Matt who's eyes instantly fill with worry upon finding the keys. "You sure you're okay? You're not just saying that? Maybe you should just go lay back down and rest--"  Matt began to say as Justin shakes his head in protest.

"I've been resting, Mr. Jensen. That's all I've been doing here lately. And I really wanna go to this dance. I'm not letting anything get in my way of dancing with Jessica. Even if it kills me, I won't let her miss out on a memorable prom." Justin protested stubbornly. Mr. Jensen laughed softly at Justin's over dramatic comment as the two made their way to Matt's car.

The drive to the prom was only about 30 minutes long, but to Justin it felt like an eternity. He just wanted to be there already. He wanted to feel the warm embrace of Jessica in his arms, hearing the sound of her voice as they danced to the music. That alone would make him the happiest person on earth.

Matt parks the car in the lot giving Justin a soft smile and a pat on the back as Justin headed out of the car. "Justin, wait..."  Justin stops in his tracks as he heard Matt's voice. What could he possibly want? "Yeah?" Justin asked. "Have fun tonight, kid. And if you start feeling bad again I'm just a phone call away. I wouldn't mind coming and picking you back up. Be safe."

Justin nods, smiling gratefully to him as he headed into the dace. Matt never would've imagined that would be the very last time he would ever talk to Justin again. Nobody ever could've imagined what was to come for their beloved jock.

Upon entering the dance hall, Justin's eyes light up with excitement. It was so beautiful, more beautiful than he ever thought it would be. Jessica did an amazing job helping decorate. He couldn't wait to boast about how /his/ girlfriend did all of this.

As he looks around the room he sees Charlie and Alex in their own little world enjoying each other's company. He sees Clay and Mrs. Jensen talking, and Tony of course was with Caleb, over by the food area.  Out of all the people he laid eyes on none of them were Jessica. He almost started to doubt that she had even came to the dance in the first place.

After all, who could blame her? She had put all the hard work into this dance only to not have been asked to go by the one person she loved the most. He had been so distracted with everything that had happened with Clay and his own sickness that he never got around to asking her.

Justin turned to the door, about to leave the dance when he caught a glimpse out of the corner of his eye. Was that her? Did Jessica come to the dance after all? When Justin turned back around sure enough there she was. Jessica Davis. The love of his life. She looked as beautiful as always. No matter how he was feeling at the moment, the look on her face when she laid eyes on him said it all.

He made the right decision by coming after all. Everything in that moment was worth it to him. All the pain he was in, all the sickness didn't matter to him anymore. He was done letting it control his life.

Justin watched as Jessica approached him, offering her a warm smile. "Hey." He tried his best to ignore his body's want to sit down, but he could feel his balance wanting to give out. Not wanting to alarm her over something as being a little dizzy, Justin cups her cheeks with his hands gently, but enough to keep him on his feet. He feels her head rest on his shoulder as her arms go around his neck "I love you more than life." He says softly in her ear. "Don't love anything more than life." Jessica reminds him, leaning up from his shoulder to meet his eyes. "Yeah, okay.. whatever you want." 

Usually Justin would argue or protest, but if he were being honest, Justin didn't have the energy to do too much of anything. It took everything he had to keep himself up. "Look who decided to show up after all...." Justin heard Charlie say, as the male approached the two of them. Alex and Clay followed close behind.

"I told you he would change his mind. See! Nothing to worry about!" Alex commented glancing over to Clay. "Yeah, what he said. Nothing to worry about..."  Justin says more to himself than to those around him.

"Are you hungry? You should try the seafood bar they have set up over there! It's fucking amazing!"  Clay asked gesturing to where Tony and Caleb had been Justin moments earlier. "No thanks, I'm good. I already ate before I came." Justin lies, he didn't wanna take the risk of potentially getting sick again and make everyone worry.

"Maybe later...you guys should go ahead though. I was kinda coming here for another reason other then food..." Justin hinted, looking to Jessica and then back to the three of them. "Okay, okay, we're going! Have fun! We'll be around!"  Justin watches as the three leave, walking back to their table as he was left alone with Jessica.

As the night progresses on, Justin continues to dance with Jessica. Despite his body's efforts to get him to slow down, he was having the time of his life. He loved every minute with the brunette, cherishing every second he got to be with her in this moment.

He wanted to remember this moment for the rest of his life. Just the two of them, dancing happily without a care in the world. Little did he know all of the joy he was feeling right now would all come to an end so soon.

As Justin twirled Jessica around he could feel himself getting dizzy once again. Just as he had done many times before he tries his best to dance past the feeling and continue on as normal but this time it was different. He could feel his heartbeat beginning to pick up speed rapidly. Breathing became more difficult for the male as he clutched on to Jessica's arm for support. What was going on? "Jess..."  Justin managed to get out as he feels himself falling to the floor.

He could hear everything around him but he couldn't get his body to listen. He had no way of opening his eyes or letting anyone know he was alright.

All he wanted to do was give everyone the prom they deserved but all he did was make it worse for everyone, especially for Jessica and Clay.

"JUSTIN!" Clay yells as he rushes over to the males side. "HELP! SOMEBODY HELP!"  Jessica calls out panicked. Justin's pulse was very low, and his breathing was shallow to none. "Mom...what's happening? What's going on?" Clay asked his voice breaking, looking to his mother, who stood beside him, hand over her mouth in fear. Clay's eyes filled with tears as everyone watched Justin being taken out of the room on a stretcher, headed for the ambulance. "I don't know, sweetie. But it's gonna be okay. It has to be." Lanny says softly, barley above a whisper. "JUSTIN! NO! LET ME GO WITH HIM! PLEASE! JUS-" Jessica begged the paramedics as they shove her back. Clay grabs her from behind, pulling her close to him to calm her down. "Jess, it's gonna be okay! It's okay! Ride with us to the hospital. He's gonna be okay. " 

Jessica turns around to face Clay, wrapping her arms around him as she cries into his chest. "What's happening to him?" Jessica choked out. Clay shakes his head as he continues to hold her. "I have absolutely no idea."  As the teens rush to Mrs. Jensen's car, Clay calls Matt letting him know what happened and to meet the three of them at the hospital. 

Once at the hospital with tear soaked faces and puffy noses they waited eagerly for the doctors arrival. "Party for Justin Foley..."  The doctor calls out after what felt like hours. "Th-That's us. is Justin gonna be alright?"

Mrs. Jensen asked as she clutched her husband's hand nervously. The doctor watched as she seen who she could only believe was most of his friends around. "Are you mom?" The doctor asked. Lanny nods her head. "I'm his adoptive mom, yes." The doctor looks to her and offers a soft smile. "Is there somewhere we can talk privately? Only immediate family." 

Clay's heart sank as he heard those words. This couldn't be good. Usually if it were good news doctors wouldn't pull someone away privately, would they? Clay and his parents stood up from their seats, following the doctor as Clay stops in his tracks, turning back to look at a sniffing Jessica. "Mom--would it be okay if Jess comes with us?"  Lanny thought about it for a moment as she shook her head. "Clay, I don't know if that's such a good idea... maybe we could just-" Matt began to say as Clay shakes his head in protest. "Dad--please, she's gonna find out regardless. Why can't she find out with us? She means everything to him, more than anyone else. She's family."  Clay pleaded with his parents. His dad sighs heavily as his mom nods in agreement. "He does have a point, hunny. What could it hurt?"

His mom asked, looking up to her husband. "Fine, okay. She can come with us." Mr. Jensen sniffled as Clay extended his hand to Jessica, her hesitantly accepting it. What if she couldn't handle the news? What if none of them could? The two walk behind his parents as the doctor leads the four of them to a private room.

The doctor makes sure they are each seated before she gives them the heartbreaking news. "I'm afraid I have some difficult news to share. Justin has tested positive for HIV one, and based on his symptoms we believe that it has progressed to AIDs." Jessica covers her mouth, tears starting to stream down her face once again as she heard the news.

" How is that possible? He had the flu. He's been tired..." Mr Jensen thought out loud. "Well, HIV has a long period of latency after infection. Which means that Justin may not have shown any symptoms for such a long time. With his IV drug use and extended periods of homelessness this would've made him more susceptible to rapid progression, and according to his records he was never tested."

The doctor continued.  Jessica wanted to leave. She didn't want to hear another word come out of the doctor's mouth. All she wanted was to throw herself in Justin's arms and for him to tell her everything was gonna be okay, but her feet wouldn't move. Instead she clutched onto Clay's arm the best she could. Resting her head on his shoulder and prayed that this was all just one horrible nightmare.

"How has he never been tested? He had a complete physical."  Mrs. Jensen protested in disbelief. "Testing requires patient consent. It's not uncommon for a young man with a history of  IV drug use and sex work to avoid testing." Clay couldn't believe what she was saying. Had he heard correctly? Sex work? Justin never mentioned anything about sex work to him before.

" Sex work?" Clay asked out loud. "Justin never spoke to you about the time he spent homeless?"  The doctor asked puzzled. Clay shakes his head. "Not about that. No." Clay looks to Jessica for a moment. "Did you know?" Jessica nods her head sadly wiping her eyes with the  sleeve of her shirt. "Yeah, he-- we talked about it once, after the assembly a few months ago. But we never talked about it since." Jessica stated honestly.

Clay felt so hurt by that statement. How come Justin felt comfortable enough to talk about it with Jessica but not with him? Did Justin not trust him? Did he think it would effect their relationship by Clay knowing what he did? Surely it wasn't that. It couldn't be. Justin should know that no matter what, he'd always be there and care for him, regardless of anything he's done. Justin's his brother. That's what siblings do for each other.

"I'm afraid his symptoms are too progressed for treatment. I give him a few days before the inevitable unfortunately takes place."  Clay shakes his head, not wanting to hear another word. "So...you're-- you're telling me he's--dying?"  Clay asked. The doctor nods sadly not being able to give him a verbal answer as she excuses herself.

Clay could feel his world shattering all over again. First he lost Jeff in the car accident, then he lost Hannah, and now he was losing Justin. Why? Why didn't Justin let himself get tested sooner? How was he supposed to go on with his life without his brother by his side? This couldn't be happening. This wasn't real.

"I can't believe this is actually happening..." Jessica says softly, crying into Clay's shoulder once more. This wasn't supposed to be how they would spend prom. They were supposed to graduate. Get married. Start a family and watch their kids grow up. Have grandchildren and tell them all the exciting adventures that happened while their parents were their age. Now none of that was ever gonna happen.

Nobody would ever love her the way Justin did. Sure, maybe eventually she'd move on from him and find someone new, but she didn't want just anyone. She wanted him. He was the Jack to her Rose. The Sid to her Nancy. He was her lifeline. How was she supposed to live with the knowing that he wasn't going to be around to protect her?

As the next day approached the rest of their group of friends learned about Justin's unfortunate fate. It was also the day Justin would have to start giving out his goodbyes to everyone.

He knew he was dying a few hours after Clay had been notified, Justin awoke in the hospital to learn of his fate. This was never how he imagined his own death. He hadn't planned on dying anytime soon, but then again, does anyone?

Sure, maybe a few who have lived out there lives and are ready to see the great beyond, but someone Justin's age shouldn't have to think about things like this, not yet.

Clay was the first person to enter the room that morning, trying to give Justin a soft smile. Justin tries to return the smile, his eyes filled with sadness as he sees Clay. What had he done? Clay looked like a total disaster. He looked as though he hadn't slept and had been crying all night.

Clay takes a shakey breath as he approaches Justin, sitting in the hospital seat beside the Male's bedside. "Justin... I- I don't know what to say, or even where to begin. I wish I could just find a way to fix you and make you better again." Justin laughs sadly, trying to lighten the mood a bit. He wanted to make a playful comment like he normally would but he couldn't.

It was hard for Justin to say much of anything at the moment. "Same.." Was the only thing Justin managed to get out. "I never would've thought I'd live to see the day that  my middle school bully would turn out to be my best friend and the best brother anyone could ever ask for." Clay managed to wipe the small tear from his eye, hoping Justin didn't notice.  Justin too felt his eyes watering, knowing this would probably be the last time he would ever speak to his brother again.

"Thank you for saving my life. I mean, more times than you even know. You've always been there for me through everything in the past year. I just wish I could've been there for you. I'm so sorry for everything I've ever said to you.  I never meant any of those things I said at the party or any of those other times."

Clay once again felt himself crying as he tried to cover his face, not wanting Justin to see him breakdown.  "I'm so sorry, Justin, I don't know how to do this. I don't know what to say. I don't want to say goodbye because I can't lose you. How am I supposed to do this without you? "

Justin gives him a soft, weak smile, as he listens to Clay's words. "You're doing--- you're doing it great." Justin reassures Clay softly.  "I know the feeling-- I do. I don't know-- what to say either. It's okay."  Justin coughs for a moment before regaining his composure. "I-I know you never meant any of those things.  You have to-- to stop-- blaming yourself for everything all the time, okay, Clay?"

Justin had so much he wanted to say, so much he knew Clay needed to hear, but he couldn't say as much as he wanted to. "I love you, so much." Clay says softly, his voice breaking a bit. "I love--I love you--too, man."  Justin replies, trying his best to speak. His voice barley wanted to get anything out. 

It was silent for a moment. Neither one knowing much of anything to say to the other. After a few moments of silence Clay finally spoke once again. "Aren't you afraid?" He asked. Justin nods, giving a soft look to the brunette. "Yeah-- I am." Justin extended his hand to Clay, causing the male to raise a curious eyebrow. "Will you-- will you hold my hand--bro?" Justin asked. Clay takes his hand and nods as he rubs it gently with his thumb. He continued to hold Justin's hand until the sick boy fell asleep.

The next morning, Justin awoke to Clay by his bedside. Upon seeing that Justin was awake he went and alerted the others of the news. One by one they each took their turns saying their goodbyes to Justin. Alex, Charlie, even coach Kerba stopped by to pay his respects.

"Hey! How's my favorite football player feeling today?" Coach asked, walking into the room with a warm smile. "Oh you know, the same as yesterday. Just a little worse." Justin let's out a soft laugh. Kerba nods sadly to Justin, watching as the male tries to adjust himself comfortably in the hospital bed.

"Listen, man, I'm not really the best at saying goodbyes or anything, so I'm just gonna say thank you. Thank you for being one of my best students and the best football player I've ever had. You're a true leader. You're one of the strongest people I've ever known, you've always had your team's back whenever they've needed you, and you've powered through things that a kid your age should've never had to go through." Kerba says softly, doing his best to keep his composure. He had hoped he would've never had to say goodbye to one of his most beloved students so soon.

"H-How? How could you possibly say that? I-I let the team down. I let you down. I should've just went to you and none of this would've--" Justin began to say as Kerba shakes his head. "Could've, should've, would've, none of that matters now. What matters is very moment right here, okay? You made an unfortunate mistake, but you listen to me right now. You /did not/ let anyone down. You couldn't have possibly knew what was gonna happen to you. You've always put everyone above yourself, and that's what makes you an incredible team leader. And you best believe I'm always gonna tell my students about all the struggles and the sacrifices you've made to try to make those around you better people, how you've made me a better person."

Justin only nods sadly, taking Kerba's hand for a moment. "You've always believed in me, even when it seemed like no one else did. I just wish I could make it up to you." Justin managed to speak out. "You will. I promise you. You know how? You're gonna be watching over me, and everyone else that you've ever loved. I'm sure you'll be at every football game and who knows, maybe you can help us win a few games every now and then, even if it is in spirit."

Kerba jokes lightly, causing a soft smile on Justin's face. Justin nods, coughing lightly for a moment. "Yea, okay.." Kerba gives his hand a soft pat as he stands up from his seat. "Get some rest kid. I'll see you later."  Kerba knew there wasn't going to be a next time, but he couldn't bring himself to think about it just yet. "Yeah--yeah, I'll see you later."

Kerba headed out of the room, turning back only for a moment to get one last glimpse of the boy. If only he could trade places with Justin, he would do it in a heartbeat. It wasn't too long before he found himself back in the waiting room, taking a seat by Jessica as he let out a soft sigh.

"How is he?" Jessica asked, sniffling before

She wipes her eyes. "He's--"  Kerba began to say. "He isn't doing to well, he seems pretty weak. I'm no doctor but I don't give him much more time left. If you haven't had the chance to see him yet, I would go ahead and do it soon before--..." Kerba trails off, not being able to bring himself to finish the sentence.

Jessica shakes her head. "I-I can't. I can't do it. How can I say goodbye to someone who means everything to me? I can't lose him. He's the first person I've truly ever loved. How could I possibly go into that room knowing that when I come out I'll never see him again? I'll never hold him or hear his voice again. How am I supposed to live with that?" Jessica asked, looking Kerba sadly in the eyes.

"Saying goodbye is never easy. It isn't supposed to be. Just try not to think about it. Instead, focus on all the good times you shared together. Let him know how much you love him, and tell him all the things you've always wanted to say. Don't over think it, just speak from the heart. It's like I told Justin, try not to think of it as goodbye. Think of it as 'until we meet again' , because even when he is gone from this earth he'll always be in your heart."

Jessica listens to the coach as she wipes her eyes, taking a deep breath as she stood from her seat. "You're right. I'm going in. Wish me luck." Jessica says, trying to keep her voice from cracking. "Good luck, kid. Remember, I'm here if you need me." Kurba reminds the girl as she nods, giving him a soft smile. Heading to his hospital room, Jessica once again took a deep breath before opening the door.

"Just breath and try not to think of it as goodbye." Jessica mutters to herself under her own breath, turning the door knob to the hospital room. "Jess.." Justin says softly, his voice barley audible he was speaking so softly. Despite Jessica's best efforts to keep her composure together, seeing him like this broke her heart.

Justin watched the tears escape her eyes as his own eyes began to water. This was undoubtedly his hardest goodbye. That's why he chose to say goodbye to her last. He was trying to avoid saying goodbye to her because the thought of leaving her scared him. "No tears, Jess...please."

Jessica quickly wipes her cheeks once again with her sleeves. "I'm sorry....I thought I could be stronger. I--" Jessica knew this was going to be hard, but she never imagined it would be this hard. All the things she wanted to say to him before, it was like her brain couldn't think of it. Her mind was blank. It's as if none of this felt real. It was like all of this was one terrible nightmare and she was going to wake up with Justin holding her close. But this wasn't a dream.

This was reality. "You're so strong Jess..." Justin says to her, patting the bed beside him. "Come here..."  Jessica gets in bed with him, laying as close as she possibly could. "You're the greatest thing to ever happen to me." Jessica says, planting a kiss softly on his forehead, before resting her head on his for a moment. "You're out of-- you're out of your mind. I ruined your fucking life."

Justin couldn't possibly understand how he could be the greatest thing to have ever happened to her. After everything he had done, after everything he had put her through, how could she still love him? "No." Jessica insisted, shaking her head. "You taught me what love is." She reassured the male gently. "Yeah?" Justin asked. "Yes!" Jessica laughs sadly, nodding her head before cuddling close to him, breathing in his scent. "You'll always have that.."

Jessica was quite for a moment before she spoke again. "I'm scared, Justin."  Jessica says, looking into his eyes. "D-Don't be scared. There's nothing to be scared of, as long as I'm here--" Justin cuts himself off, realizing once again he wouldn't be here. He was leaving her. Alone. He wasn't going to be there to protect her when she needed him. Once again guilt set in. "That's just the thing. You're aren't gonna be here. How am I supposed to do this without you? You've always been there, to protect me, to love me, you've always supported me when I've needed you most, and now, I-I can't imagine my life without you in it."

All of their plans, all their dreams were shattering right in front of Jessica and there was absolutely nothing she could do about it. "I will always be with you. I promise. I'll be like-- like your guardian angel or some shit.--" Justin laughed softly, Jessica gives a sad laugh of her own as she brushes the hair behind her ear.

"Whenever you feel like you can't go on, or if you get scared, or if you just need someone to talk to, just close your eyes and just picture me there. I'll always be here for you-- even if it isn't in human form. I promise you. Okay Jess?" Jessica nods kissing his head once again as she lays there with him, rubbing his hair until he falls asleep.

Once she knew he was asleep she headed back into the waiting room, taking her seat back in the waiting room. Clay and his parents offered to let her sit in the room with him until he passed, but she couldn't bring herself to do it. Instead she sat beside Coach Kerba, waiting for the inevitable.

Inside the hospital room, Justin could hear everything going on around him, but he couldn't speak. He couldn't move. He wouldn't even be able to breathe properly had it not been for the ventilator breathing for him. But he wasn't in any pain. He was relaxed. He never thought dying would feel like this. His eyes were closed, but he could feel Clay's hand on top of his brushing it with his thumb gently, telling him that if he were ready to go that he could. He promised Justin that he would continue to look after Jessica for him as best he could.

Justin could feel Clay's parents at his feet, leaning against the bed as he let out one final breath, completely relaxing after a few moments. The next thing Justin hears is his heart monitor flatline. He could see his life flash before his eyes, almost like he was watching a movie, seeing all the great memories he had ever made. In that moment, there was no more pain, no more suffering. He was free. But there was a few things he knew he still had to do first before he crossed over. He wasn't ready to leave just yet.

#13 reasons why #justin foley #13 rw season 4 #13rw rp

[writingsoftheunderworld]

AU - yes! Time Travel -no?

C. 2 here ; C. 1 here; AO3 here. Enjoy!

Chapter 3

Bonnie Bennett had begun her day with a slow calming chant of Don’t let him get to you, her thought firmly centred around one Damon Salvatore, a true thorn in her side since he’d first arrived in town not too long ago. She’d woken up slowly, light filtering through her blinds and shrouding the whole room in a husky shade of caramel, the lingering scent of citrus from the candles burnt the night before giving the room an all to homely feeling. She could hear her dad bustling downstairs, most likely getting some coffee for the road. It was fairly early still, but she had free-period the first half of the day and she was skipping the rest - life ending crises a good enough reason even if Mrs Jason still claimed that unless you were actually dead you had to show up for math class. She laid in bed a few more minutes, listening to her dad get dressed and slip out the door. She wondered for not the first time whether it would be better off if she tried to tell him all about this witch vampire mess again, but Grams had wanted him out of it, and he had wanted out of it after her mom left, so for the thousandth time she put it out of her mind. 

She showered, changed and climbed down to get the little mug of coffee her dad always left out for her, dropping more sugar into it than a candy store had on its selves. Elena had once joked that if she didn’t end up making it big she would always work as an oompa-loompa for Willy Wonka for how much sugar she dumped into her coffee each day. Bonnie was still not sure if Elena thought that was just a good joke or if she just hadn’t understood the Chocolate Factory as a child. Caroline just liked to pat her on the shoulder with a wistful look on her face, like she wished she had Bonnie’s devil-may-care attitude about it - which ironically seemed to have not been the case even now as a vampire who ate more than a Quarterback. 

The noise of Jeremy knocking on the door startled her out of her thoughts enough to almost spill the coffee on her shirt. Almost being the key word thankfully, so she dropped the mug into the sink and swung her bag over her head and headed for the garage. They were meant to meet Damon on the edge of the former Salvatore Estate, just off of the main road, by the woods, from where he’d then show her where the former Salem witches had been burned some centuries ago and where the Founders had burned Emily as well. Klaus was a threat hanging over their head constantly at this point. 

On their way Jeremy began telling her about Isobel’s impromptu visit earlier this morning and how poor Aunt Jenna had locked herself in her room following it. Bonnie felt sorry for the woman, she definitely didn’t deserve to be lied to like that, but Bonnie also felt that telling her the whole truth would’ve been equally unfair. The least Alaric could’ve done was say that his wife was missing rather than dead, but that was none of her business at the end of the day. They talked some more as they waited, they’d arrived a bit early after all, and Bonnie realised once again just how different Jeremy now was, and how nice it was to see him so invested in her. She wasn’t sure yet if she actually liked him like that, but she definitely could imagine how sweet and thoughtful he’d be as a boyfriend. And she needed someone frankly. Seeing Elena with her two Salvatore’s bending over backwards to rescue her from any and every inconvenience and now Caroline complaining about having been kissed by both Matt and Tyler made her frustrated. Less so for the fighting over her situation, that sounded exhausting, but rather for the constant work she had to put into herself to even be noticed. Maybe she should move for college, she had a feeling Virginia might be part of the problem here as well, though she did find it hilarious how both Matt and Tyler had initially dated her before either moved on to Elena or Caroline. Then it just made her sad. Was it something about her that pushed them away?

She remembered with sudden clarity asking that to her Grams and the hour long lecture following her words, of how she was a strong woman, how boys wouldn’t be able to handle someone like her until later, how she should still enjoy herself and not be tied down to a boyfriend from middle school onward because then you saw what could happen - exhibit a through z Elena’s many rants about Matt. She’d listened but not believed her Grams. She still wasn’t sure if she believed her Grams but she did know she wanted someone for her own now, hell, she needed someone with all the stress and violence her life had suddenly turned to. And Jeremy was safe, and cute, and had puppy dog eyes for her and vived for her attention. Was part of her thinking she was settling? Maybe. Did she care? Not really. And speaking of not caring, where the hell was Damon at? He was already late by 15 minutes. Don’t let him get to you. Her inner voice chimed again.

“Jere, how about we just head to the Boarding House? Clearly someone is looking to be set on fire.” Jeremy laughed and nodded. He clearly thought Bonnie was joking, but oh boy couldn’t he be more wrong. Bonnie was 1000% setting Damon on fire if he didn’t come up with a good enough excuse. 

_._._._._._._

Rose waited and watched. Jeremy Gilbert was off to the side, looking completely eager and completely in over his head as Bonnie and Damon were arguing about the best course of action following her short introduction into what she knew. And if they thought that was all she could tell them, then obviously they were still underestimating her which frankly was a bit condescending seeing as she was at least 2 years older than the Bonnie currently glaring at Damon. But she’d guessed that would be the reaction she was going to get when she made her choice to be as dramatic as possible. Mom used to say she got it from dad, but seeing the two younger versions of them interacting now she could safely say she got it from both. God knows those eye rolls and ridiculous insults were exaggerated as hell. How did these two people become her slow dancing in the kitchen on a random Thursday evening parents?

“Excuse me?” she tried, weakly, but still she gave it a shot. Jeremy looked over to her then at the still arguing duo then back at her with a look that seemed to say this is just an ordinary Monday for them. “EX-cuse ME!” she tried again, this time much louder but nothing. She sighed. Lost cause.

“If you would’ve let me pick you up like I said initially, you wouldn’t be here wanting to blow my head up now Judgy!”

“If you’d know how to use a phone like a normal person, I wouldn’t have waited needlessly for you for hours Damon!”

“Oh please, it was barely 5 minutes.” he scoffed and Jeremy piped up with a it was fifteen technically that Damon just elected to ignore it seemed. Sometime he did remind Rose of her dad. 

“It doesn’t matter! We’re dealing with Klaus! A 5 seconds text shouldn’t be something I need to tell you to do!” Aaannd sometimes she reminded Rose of her mom. Great, now she had anxiety again. And lord knows her mom won’t just raise her voice to yell at her for ending up here like this Bonnie was doing, no no, her mom would have a level voice that somehow would hurt far more. She needed a distraction. She also needed to figure out what was about to happen around this time. Like she remember her dad mentioning that Alaric had gotten possessed at some point and that he and mom had danced at a school 60s event - which she had to ask who actually came up with that stuff, because while Lizzie definitely loved a nice theme party, she still went with like a hava night, or a rock theme or an Austrian ball or something more generic but more fun, not a decades dance. Digressing though, Rose knew these facts, but she didn’t know anything immediate. She needed more information. More inside information.

“Guys, could you take a break and answer a few questions for me first?” she tried one more time. To no avail. So hard times ask for hard measures or something like that and stubborn younger versions of her parents call for her parents usual solve to stubborn daughter fighting with her friends voice so she did her best to channel her mom’s level tone and her dad’s intimidating presence and for someone not actually related to them she though she did a good job seeing as Bonnie and Damon turned in unison to glare at her before being reminded of where they were and what was going on here. She was actually pretty proud of herself for that feat.

“So as I was trying to say, can you give me run-down of what’s been happening here?” 

“Oh, I’m sorry, weren’t you the one who knew everything?” Damon commented snidely and Rose almost high-fived Bonnie when both her and Rose said in unison.

“Oh, you know what sorry means?” Bonnie off to the side.

“Oh, so you agree I was right?” Rose with a grin.

Damon  seemed to take a moment to grit his teeth and bite back his words before shaking his head, giving a smirk and walking right past Rose to pour himself a glass of bourbon and spread out onto the couch in seeming nonchalance. Rose would almost commend his acting here, if he didn’t also irritate her with it. Who knew dad used to be such a child… well, more so than in her universe...time?

“Damon, she didn’t say she knows everything and don’t be a dick. She’s the only one willing to help us here.” Bonnie on the other hand, Rose was beginning to appreciate more and more. Maybe she was more Mom’s pet in the past than Dad’s pet as she was used to.

“Thank you, Bonnie. And no, I don’t know everything I just know a lot, but I still need to have the full picture and all the players to tell which is the best plan of attack here. As I said, you can’t kill Klaus, but you also don’t want him to become a hybrid right? That means we need to take every variable in consideration.” she argued and saw both Bonnie and Damon share a look before seemingly agreeing with her point of view. And boy was the Klaus of her universe going to laugh himself stupid when/if she made it back and told him his lessons in planning schemes - her dad’s turn of phrase not hers of Klaus’ - had been what had helped her most here. Oh irony, you cruel, opportunistic bitch. 

“Bonnie was meant to take on over 100 dead witches’ energy today, it’s why we were waiting for Damon, he knew where they’d died.” came the first important nugget of information from the most - or least? - expected person, Jeremy Gilbert himself. Rose smiled at him in gratitude, glad at least one person was listening. 

“Ok, that’s still going to be useful so maybe you should do that anyway and meanwhile I’ll see what Katherine's hiding?” Rose suggested and she didn’t even need to think before knowing that Damon was going to disagree with her - her dad still made that face whenever she and her friends planned something he thought was too dangerous or risky. Bonnie however seemed more receptive. 

“No way! Do you even know what that bitch is capable of?” as she said, predictable.

“Damon, I think she might be right. You know Katherine is planning something, no way is she helping from the goodness of her heart and she won’t say anything to any of us.” Ah, how she loved her mom’s pragmatism at times - except when she was 14 and wanted a pony, then she much rather preferred her dad’s personal brand of impulsiveness that not only got her the pony she’s wanted since 5 but also made a stable off a little way further from the house.

“And she is still keeping Katherine knocked out.” Jeremy was quickly becoming Rose’s favourite person, no joke. He was full of wonderful insight and 100% helping her barely formed ideas come to fruition. She smiled proudly and nodded to the still unconscious vampire on the floor. She elected to ignore outright looking at the woman for now, too weirded out by the 1 to 1 replica of Elena to feel comfortable with it. Doppelgangers were too much for her. It was like evil clones, her dad had explained when he tried to make her understand how the whole doppelganger thing even worked - something about the universe or some chick named Tessa or another, she hadn’t been paying too close attention by that point. Their lives were very convoluted in her opinion. 

Damon seemed to consider this possibility then, taking another large sip of bourbon and looking directly at Rose as he did so, before slamming the glass onto the end table by the foot of the couch and jumping to his feet. 

“Alright, fine, then Bon-Bon, you me and little Gilbert need to head off. Rosie-Posie, you get the Queen of Hell. Good luck to you, you’re going to need it. The bitch hasn’t told the truth a day in her life.” 

Rose nodded, smiled and waved them off as they all got out and left to do what they’d planned to do. She couldn’t wait for that honestly, it would at least get Bonnie’s magic up closer to the levels Rose knew from her mom. But the Rosie-Posie was going to kill her the longer she stayed here. It was going to make her slip and call Damon dad and it would all implode into itself, because if she was weak to one thing, it was being her dad’s Rosie-Posie and while she was fully aware this wasn’t actually her dad, her heart didn’t care. All was left now was for her mom to brush her hair out of her eyes and she might just snap. She’d missed her parents far before she got herself stranded in a different universe - despite it having been barely a few hours - since she hadn’t been home in at least 2 months. Sure she’d seen them nearly every night, more mom than dad since dad tried to pretend he still was immune to missing his girls, but it wasn’t the same as hearing her dad from a few feet away, well within hug reach or feel her mom’s warm hand through her hair. Fuck, and now she was crying. This day couldn’t be going worse. Her eyes strayed to Katherine and she groaned. Oh, it could definitely get worse. It could get so much worse.

#Bamon #bamon fanfic #bamon fic #bamon shippers club #TVD #tvd fic #tvd fanfiction #future daughter #AU #canon divergent au #Bonnie #bonnie/damon #bonnie bennett #Damon x Bonnie #Damon #damon salvatore #Bonnie x Damon #My writing #multichapter #jeremy gilbert

[welllpthisishappening]

For a Good Cause (1/2)

Emma wasn’t nervous. She wasn’t worried. She was maybe, kind of, sort of ridiculously excited. And just a hint anxious. Because she’d spent years watching Killian play on Garden ice and was almost getting used to Matt playing on Garden ice, but the thought of them playing together on Garden ice was enough to leave her heart beating just a hint faster than usual. 

Add into the mix absurd trash talk and ridiculous bets and handmade signs and Emma wasn’t sure she was going to get through the day without setting some kind of record for sighing dramatically. 

At least it was for a good cause. 

Rating: T. They banter. They kiss. They scandalize their kids by flirting.  AN: HAPPY HOCKEY SEASON EVERYONE, LET’S HOPE THE RANGERS AREN’T HORRENDOUS THIS YEAR! It’s time for me to get overly invested in the success of this ridiculous team and that, by extension, means it’s time to start posting an absurd number of words about the fictional version of the New York Rangers and this world that, seemingly, will not end. So, over the summer Zucc and Henrik hosted a charity hockey game and drafted their friends and it was as ridiculous as that sounds and both @optomisticgirl and @alicerubyfloyd were like “What if they did this in Blue Line?” And several thousand words later, here’s this. Time-wise, it’s July 2041, which makes Roland 31, Lizzie 24, Matt 22, Peggy 19 and Chris 13. Killian’s POV on Sunday. 

Also on Ao3 if that’s how you roll. 

“Sit.” “I can’t. Everyone is late.” “Wandering around this arena is not going to help.” “I don’t care.” “Swan.” “Killian.” Emma spun on the spot, pulled out of her pace mid-pace by several fingers around her wrist and the overwhelmingly effective smirk on Killian’s face and it wasn’t, technically, in the arena. He didn’t mention that. He probably knew it’d stress her out.

And that wasn’t even really the right word for it.

She wasn’t stressed out. She’d barely planned anything, was so used to doing events like these now she could probably come up with the schedule in her sleep and Merida had done most of it anyway. Emma had just agreed to do some Garden of Dreams promo and make sure the banners got to Chase Square on time and call someone in facilities about getting actual podiums set up.

That had been the most difficult part.

Stressed wasn’t the right word.

And it wasn’t worried either. She’d watched Killian play hockey for the better part of the last three decades and watched Roland play and Matt play and every single person that was, eventually, going to show up and stand by those absolutely absurd podiums was incredibly good at what they did.

They got paid millions for it.

Emma wasn’t really sure what emotion she was – unless it was generically annoyed because everyone was seriously late and Merida looked like she wanted to throw her phone at the will-call window behind her – but it might have just been some strange mix of nervous and excited and, well, mostly, nervous because she’d watched them all play hockey, but she’d never watched them play hockey together.

And she wasn’t sure she could handle her husband and her kid playing on the same ice at the same time.

“Swan, I can’t actually tug you down, it’s going to hurt my arm,” Killian muttered, and they both knew it was a great, big, enormous lie because he was probably in as good a shape as he’d been when he was playing. Maybe better. Well, no, maybe not that, but he still ran through Riverside three times a week and Emma was having more and more trouble thinking when she kept noticing new flecks of silver in his hair and--

“You’re trying to distract me,” she accused.

He nodded. “Yes, I am. Is it working?” “Not really, everyone is late.” “Or we’re just impossibly early.” “Is that really the word you were looking for?” Emma asked, hating whatever her voice was doing because his thumb had started tapping against the back of her wrist and she was ninety-two percent positive he didn’t mean to do it.

She didn’t think he even realized.

“I’m not really worried about the specifics of my sentence structure,” Killian said. “This is going to be fine.” “Of course it is.” He blinked. And his lips twisted, eyebrows pulled low when his eyes flashed up towards hers and Emma tried to make sure her smile looked as confident as she felt. That was one of the emotions she was feeling, she was certain.

She was confident. It was a great idea and it was going to be great and Garden of Dreams was going to make a shit ton of money for an anniversary thing that definitely deserved a charity hockey game with Rangers legends and some of the biggest names in the league today.

That’s what the e-mail blast had said.

Emma wrote it herself.

The whole thing had been her idea. She was pretty positive that was the only reason she wasn't freaking out. And she was having a lot of thoughts about Killian in uniform again. That were probably not appropriate for a game that also included her kid and her friends and Roland Locksley.

“Wait, what?” Killian asked, and Emma’s smile widened.

“Yeah, didn’t expect that at all, did you?” “I have no idea what the hell is going on now, love. Can you honestly sit down though, you’re going to do damage to the ground.” “The stone ground?” “Yes. Sit, Swan.” She rolled her eyes, but let him pull her towards him and she probably should have expected it – there was, after all, several decades worth of experience to all of this, but Emma wasn’t entirely sure if they’d ever made out in Chase Square and she gasped when Killian tugged her onto his legs. “That can’t be safe, pre-game,” she mumbled, appreciating whatever sound he made when she tried to get more comfortable.

“You’re going to make me think you don’t think I’m game ready.” “You were the one going on about the state of your arm,” Emma challenged. She twisted again, slinging an arm around his shoulders so her fingers could find the back of his hair and they really were there impossibly early.

“Ah, but we agreed that was a distraction. And this conversation makes no sense.” “Slow on the uptake, Cap.” He arched an eyebrow, letting his head fall forward so his lips landed on the curve of her shoulder and Emma’s emotions settled into something that felt a hell of a lot like flirting. Merida was going to throw her phone at them.

“I’m still waiting on that explanation, love,” Killian muttered. “The game’s going to be fun. We raise some money, we score some goals, we impress loved ones.” “Loved ones?” “I am consistently and only ever trying to impress you. Who I love. Quite a bit in fact.” “Is this still part of the distraction?”

He made a contradictory noise, mouth still pressed against her skin and there hadn’t been much argument about naming him captain of one of the teams. Emma wasn’t entirely sure he’d ever really stopped being captain of the New York Rangers. Or would. Any tense, really.

There’d been some discussion about the other team and it took, exactly, ten minutes for Robin to sigh dramatically and agree to Merida’s request – possibly because Regina had turned towards him and her eyebrows didn’t move at all when she glared. It was incredibly intimidating.

“It’ll be good for TV,” Merida promised. “Plus don’t you want to brag to Cap when you come up with a different team?” “Wait, what?” Robin balked.

“I mean...you’re going to have to stage a draft.” A draft. For a charity game. On Garden ice. In the offseason. With all proceeds going to a very good cause and an absurd amount of signed merch that was piled in Emma’s office and had recently migrated a bit to Matt’s old room because there was so much and Chris had only argued a little bit about helping.

He was thirteen he argued about everything.

There’d been more talking after Merida’s announcement, more planning and way too much trash talk amongst a group of former and current athletes than Emma entirely expected, but they were all way too competitive and it was only a matter of time before someone made a bet about something.

Or several things.

There’d probably be multiple bets.

“Swan,” Killian said, drawing out her name and pulling her out of memories and she startled against his chest. It was enough to work another groan out of him. “Look who’s being incredibly distracting now.” “You’re going to scandalize Mer.” “She’s way too busy trying to figure out who hit what traffic and how much she’s got to placate this growing crowd.” He waved his free hand, the one not currently wrapped around her middle, through the air and it was a testament to Emma’s current mental state that she hadn’t noticed the crowd or the media or the, frankly, ridiculous number of twenty jerseys around them.

She was still sitting on Killian’s right thigh.

“You think we scandalized all of them by whatever it was you were doing to my shoulder?” she asked, and she expected his answering laugh.

“Oh, absolutely. That was part of the distraction technique too.” “This is a very involved plan.” “Yeah, well, you were going to do damage to the ground by pacing right through it,” Killian countered. “So it seems to keep getting more and more complex with each passing moment. Also I know you’re worried they’re all going to be weird about this.” “Weird?” “Weird. Strange. Overly competitive. Absolutely refuse to draft Scarlet until the very final pick.” Emma’s jaw cracked when it dropped, fingers still where they’d been tracing patterns on the back of Killian’s neck and she swore his hand tightened around her middle. “Have you been staging secret draft meetings without me, Cap?”

He shook his head, but that felt like a lie too and the smirk was honestly absurd. It shouldn’t get more powerful as the years went on.

Merida had started yelling in the phone. Emma wasn’t entirely sure it was all English.

“No, no, no, no,” Killian stammered, and Emma had to move her eyebrows when she glared. She was never as good as Regina.

“You want to try that again?” “They’re not meetings, really…” “No, they’re, like, battle plans,” Roland said, appearing in front of them with a smile on his face and head-to-toe Flyers gear. Killian groaned against Emma’s shoulder. “Why are you guys sitting on the ground? Don’t we have chairs at this shindig?” “Please don’t call it a shindig in front of Mer,” Emma implored. “She’s stressed enough as it is. And where did you come from?” “And what are you wearing?” Killian added.

Roland crossed his arms. “I play for this team, Hook. It’s not like I’m going to show up in blue merch for this. I don’t care what ice I’m skating on.” “You practice that?” “Several times in the cab cross-town.” “Gina know you took a cab?”

The orange appeared to get stronger or brighter or some other verb that wasn’t possible because it was a shirt and not a sentient being, the longer Roland stood there. His eyes widened and his lips pressed together, and Killian practically cackled into Emma’s arm.

“If you tell Gina that I took a cab from the apartment, she’s never going to let me back into the apartment,” Roland hissed.

“Why didn’t you come with them?” “They were having breakfast when Henry and his kids. Because Henry is staying in a hotel and--” “--Didn’t get guilt tripped by Gina to sleep on the couch when he was home for the weekend,” Emma added, and she wasn’t sure if that was another laugh out of Killian or if he’d just never really stopped, but Roland’s face was almost too red now. “Go stand next to Mer, Rol,” she continued. “I’d like to compare shades of red.”

He stuck his tongue out at her.

“You’re a picture of maturity,” Killian chuckled. “Thirty-year-old man guilt tripped by his mother and then embarrassed by it.” “Ok, I’m not embarrassed by it,” Roland argued. “I just didn’t know it was going to be some kind of point of contention or fodder for trash talk or--” “--Are we trash talking you?” Emma asked, the sound of footsteps moving towards them and it sounded like Merida had finally taken a deep breath. She probably should have helped some more. She was way too busy flirting with Killian.

“Well, yeah. Right, that’s what’s happening? Isn’t it? Also where is everyone?”

“That’s a very good question. We think that’s what Mer is yelling about.” “Trash talking the trash talkers, huh?” Emma shrugged. “I’m fairly positive she’s upset no one is taking this as seriously as they’re supposed to.” “That’s not true at all. Dad and Uncle Will and Hook had some kind of meeting about how they were going to draft. Uncle Will was super pissed they wanted to draft him last and Uncle Liam laughed so loudly the rumors were it was going to do damage to Hook’s phone.” “How do you know that?”

It could not have been safe for Roland’s skin to keep shifting between pale and flushed so quickly. Emma tried not to laugh. Killian absolutely did not.

“Ok, you can’t be annoyed by this,” Roland said, holding both his hands up and Emma widened her eyes. She figured Killian moved his eyebrows – based solely off the blush-type reaction in Roland’s cheeks. “I’m pretty positive Uncle Will told Mattie because he thinks Hook is going to draft Mattie first, which, you know, obviously.” “And that means what, exactly?” Emma asked, only slightly frustrated she hadn’t been involved in any of these pre-draft meetings.

She should not have been surprised that there were pre-draft meetings.

They were all way too competitive for their own good.

Roland sighed, stuffing his hands in his pockets and rocking back on his heels. It sounded like Merida was growling on the other side of Chase Square. “I’m, like, sixty-seven percent positive Uncle Will thought he could get Mattie to persuade Hook to break the pre-draft agreement and then he wouldn’t be angry about getting drafted last or whatever, but I don’t think Mattie went for it. I’m like ninety-two percent positive about that.” “These percentages are absurd.” “Math’s not his strong suit,” Killian grinned.

Roland kicked at his ankle. “If that’s your form of trash talk you are crazy out of practice, Hook. And I only know because I talked to Mattie yesterday because--” “--You were trash talking?” “I mean if I lie are you actually going to ground me?” “As previously discussed, mate, you are a professional athlete. Who is thirty years old. I don’t think I’ve got that kind of clout anymore.” “Thirty-one. Technically.” “Math’s not his strong suit either,” Emma laughed, leaning back when Killian hooked his chin over her shoulder and there must have been hair in his face. He didn’t seem to mind.

Whoever groaned behind them, however, very clearly minded quite a bit.

And was holding two different signs.

“Aw, c’mon, seriously?” Peggy sighed, flanked by a clearly amused Anna and a slightly disgusted Liam. Elsa didn’t look surprised. Lizzie’s eyes darted towards Roland’s immediately. She was wearing orange too.

“Right?” Roland laughed. He took a step forward, cheeks still far too flushed to be healthy and curls that were far too long because it was the offseason and hockey players were notoriously lazy when there weren’t games to be played.

At least the ones Emma knew.

Her fingers moved back to Killian’s hair.

“You guys know there are chairs here, right?” Peggy asked. Someone laughed. It might have been Elsa. It was definitely Elsa. “Where’s Uncle Robin? Does Dad win by default if Uncle Robin forfeits the draft?” “No one is forfeiting anything,” Emma said evenly, tugging on the hem of Peggy’s shirt when she moved in front of them. It was appropriately team-branded. There wasn’t a C on her shoulder. Elsa was still laughing. “I think that’d actually make Merida start to cry.” “Does Mer know how to cry?” “I’d really rather not find out.” Peggy hummed in agreement, sinking onto the ground without ceremony and letting her elbows rest on her bent knees. “Yeah, that’s fair. She know there’s some crazy accident on the FDR? That’s why we were late.”

“Locksley doesn’t have that excuse,” Killian reasoned. “They’d probably be coming up 10th Avenue anyway.” “You some kind of traffic soothsayer now, KJ?” Elsa asked, Liam’s arm still around her when she moved and Killian was going to do permanent damage to his eyebrows. “How come you aren’t letting Emma sit in a chair?” “He’s worried about the draft,” Liam answered. Killian flipped him off.

“Hey, c’mon, your kid is sitting right there!” “I’m almost twenty, Uncle Liam,” Peggy said, and Emma wasn’t sure what her soul did at that, but she was glad she was perched on Killian’s right leg when it happened. His arm tightened again. “I don’t think that makes me a kid. And Dad’s not worried about the draft.” Sprained eyebrows. Honestly. Emma wondered where Ariel was. Probably stuck in some other part of Midtown. Or the Long Island Expressway.

“Is he not?” Liam asked, and they were all going to be sitting on the ground sooner rather than later.

Peggy shook her head. “Obviously not. You hear about that trash talk he was giving Uncle Robin after he made that mistake on TV?” She let out a low whistle, eyes bright and only a little disconcerting and all of their kids were far too charming for their own good. They knew it too. “Could barely talk about the game without laughing in the middle of his segment. Nah, Dad’s crazy confident in his team already.” “Maybe you’re the soothsayer, little love," Killian said, smile obvious in his voice and Emma groaned when he leaned both of them forward to read the signs in Peggy’s hands. “When’d you make these? And when did you see the segment?” “On the plane. I think the lady next to me thought I was legitimately crazy. You know how expensive markers are in the Eugene airport? Highway robbery, honestly.” “Wouldn’t it be, like, sky robbery?” Lizzie asked, and Peggy rolled her eyes. “You make everybody signs or just people you’re related to and making out with?” Peggy appeared to be trying to melt into the stone ground. Merida stopped talking for half a second. Emma was, at least, ninety-seven and a half percent positive it was because of the look on Killian’s face.

“Thanks a lot, Elizabeth,” Peggy grumbled, and Lizzie didn’t answer, just leaned further against Roland’s side. Peggy didn’t notice. She was far too busy staring at her hands. They were still holding signs. “Ok,” she mumbled. “It’s not really like that…” “What is it like then?” Killian asked. Anna laughed that time.

“Jeez, KJ. That was way too hardcore for whatever it is we’re doing. Where’s your other kids?” “Chris is with Mattie,” Emma explained. She wasn’t entirely sure if Killian could actually answer. Or formulate any thoughts that were not about getting immediate and concrete answers out of Peggy. She bit her lip.

“It’s really not like that,” she said again, glancing up under her lashes and Killian’s whole body sagged against Emma’s. Liam mumbled something that sounded a hell of a lot like overprotective idiot under his breath.

“You do not have a leg to stand on this situation, Liam,” Killian warned. “See if I draft you later.” “Please, I don’t want to play for your garbage team.” “Oh don’t do that,” Anna groaned. “You want to be on KJ’s team, Liam.” “How you figure?” Anna muttered a string of curses, most of them in a language that was neither English nor Norwegian, and something cracked loudly when she leaned back against Peggy’s side. “Ignore that,” she said, a command to the whole lot of them and there was another car door slamming from Seventh Avenue. “Also, you’ve got to be on KJ’s team because otherwise you’re going to have to face off against Matt and that’s going to literally be the single most embarrassing thing that’s ever happened to you.” “And one time he fell off those rocks in Central Park and nearly sprained his wrist and had to come up with a lie to Mom and Dad about why he couldn’t move his hand without wincing,” Elsa added conspiratorially. Liam gaped at her. “Who’s the guy, Pegs?” Peggy gritted her teeth, glaring daggers at Lizzie. “I didn’t realize it was a secret.” “It’s not an anything,” Peggy shouted. “Margaret,” Killian muttered, and her whole body sagged forward when she exhaled dramatically.

“Who do we not know that’s playing in this game?” Emma asked. She tried to glance up through her skull when a hand landed on her shoulder and David grinned down at her.

“Your eyes are going to get stuck that way,” he said, Ruth plastered to his side and Mary Margaret was absolutely holding some form of baked good. “You know there’s a ton of traffic on the West Side, who decided to do this in the middle of the afternoon on Saturday?” “Ruby?” “God, remind me to yell at her about that, where is she?” “I have no idea,” Emma answered at the same time Peggy said “in her office, yelling at someone about the banners that very clearly aren’t here.” “How do you know that?” Peggy made a noise in the back of her throat. “She wanted to know where we were and if I was with you. And also where MD and Toph were.” “Are they not here yet?” Mary Margaret asked, already holding the Tupperware container out expectantly when Roland all but lunged at it. “And where’s the rest of the draft stock? Shouldn’t Robin be here? And Humbert?” Peggy froze. Liam chuckled.

“I’m not going to draft you solely so I can check you later, Liam,” Killian hissed, but his eyes didn’t move away from Peggy.

Emma reached out slowly, tapping her thumb on her lower lip in an effort to make sure she didn’t bite through it. “We don’t have time to get stitches, babe,” she mumbled. “And your brother will be mad if we steal his spotlight.” “Please,” Peggy countered. “The only brother’s who’s going to be mad about anything is Toph. Literally no one in the world has ever been more excited to see Dad play hockey.” Those emotions Emma was fifty percent certain she’d managed to corral a few minutes before reappeared in full force and the thought had crossed her mind more than anything else, the first and only time Chris would ever see his dad play on Garden ice and it made her heart do something and her pulse do something else and she wanted to scream and shout and jump up and down and one charity game should not be causing her so much personal turmoil.

She might make her own signs.

“Aw, we can’t even trash talk that,” Will said, and Emma wished they’d all stop teleporting to Chase Square. Peggy jumped up, concern over maybe boyfriends and guys who weren’t playing hockey, but had also grown up around hockey, forgotten as soon as Will moved towards them and he grunted when she threw the full force of her weight into his chest. “God, I’m not a hurdle, Margaret,” he mumbled, but there was a note of something in his voice and Peggy looked like she held on tighter. “You don’t have to try and jump over me.” “Shut up, Uncle Will.” “Aye, aye, ma’am.” She burrowed her face into the crook of his neck, and David was only slightly vocal about not getting a reception like that. Will grinned at him over Peggy’s shoulder. “Why are you guys all sitting on the ground? Where’s Locksley?” “Stuck in traffic with Matt and Chris and Graham Humbert’s kid apparently,” Killian said, catching Emma around the wrist before she could swat at his shoulder. Will’s eyes widened.

“Dad,” Peggy whined. “It’s not like that. It’s...the only people who got signs were you and MD.” “Wait, wait, Scarlet and I didn’t get a sign?” Liam asked.

“Liam, I’m seriously going to check you tomorrow,” Killian said. Will’s eyes still had not returned to a size that was correct for a human being.

“And I don’t think Graham’s kid is in the same car as Chris and Mattie,” Emma reasoned. It wasn’t easy to stand up, particularly when Killian’s arm seemed intent on melding into her body, but she managed to shift back to her feet and Peggy scrunched her nose when she pried her away from Will’s chest.

Her hair brushed Emma’s mouth.

“You’re no help at all either,” Peggy grumbled. “And it’s really not like that at all. Jer and I are friends. Lizzie’s just a giant jerk and--”

“--Mattie was the one who told me he thought he had to talk to this guy in person this weekend,” Lizzie interrupted.

“What?”

Lizzie held both her hands up, a rare surrender from anyone with the last name Vankald or Jones. There were more footsteps coming towards them. And heels. It appeared Ruby had descended from her office. “If you tell him that I told you that Margaret Elsa, I will push you in traffic,” Lizzie hissed, Roland clicking his tongue and Will mumbling oh shit in between laughing.

“Why is MD talking to you about this?” “Probably for the same reason we always talk about this. And because he was really mad we accidentally liked that one girls Instagram photo.” There was a chorus of what from the ever-growing peanut gallery and Chris slammed into Killian’s side, barely managing to get up before a thirteen-year-old inadvertently concussed himself on his ribs. “Slow down, kid,” Killian mumbled out of habit, and it didn’t work. It never worked. None of the Jones Line ever learned to control their limbs.

“Dad, seriously, I need you to stop making that face,” Peggy continued, seemingly unperturbed by the arrival of her younger brother when she was so clearly planning the murder of her older brother. “I can make a sign that says Jer and I are just friends if that’d help.” “I mean, it might,” Killian admitted. He flashed her a smile and his eyebrows twisted, tongue pressed into the corner of his mouth in a way that was supposed to be charming, but just left Peggy groaning against Emma’s side with more hair everywhere.

“And,” she added. “That Instagram thing happened literally years ago. MD was like--” “--A sophomore in college,” Matt finished, stepping towards them with Robin and the rest of the Mills-Locksley family close behind and both Emma and Will chuckled when Roland practically jumped to attention.

“Saw that,” she mumbled. He made a face.

“I was a sophomore in college, Margaret,” Matt intoned, hardly flinching when Peggy kicked and punched at him and Emma was going to end up bruised and battered by the end of this inevitable argument. “And that girl thought I was nuts after.” “Should have explained it better,” Peggy said. “And, you know, look at you now. I bet she’s really regretting that decision.” “She wouldn’t have had to if you and Lizzie were normal people!” “Ok, well, that’s just kind of rude, MD.” “Super rude,” Lizzie agreed, digging her chin into Peggy’s shoulder when she took a step closer. “Plus, who freaks out about that? A normal person would have thought you were just interested in--” “--Stalking her,” Chris finished. Matt lunged at him, more laughter ringing in the air and both Killian and Emma sighed, but that was as much reprimand as they were going to get out because they were incredibly behind schedule and their kids were some of the best trash talkers in the Tri-State area.

“We were stalking here a little,” Lizzie admitted, the smile on Chris’ face growing with every passing minute. “You late because you were stuck in traffic or because you were watching film?” Chris stopped laughing. And Matt froze, a picture-perfect impersonation of Killian being caught mid-lie that was absolutely, positively not on purpose. Emma’s emotions could not handle that day. Peggy nearly fell over when she cackled.

“Oh God,” she mumbled, shaking her hair away from her face. “You don’t get to say anything to me for the rest of the weekend, MD. I can’t believe you almost messed up Mom’s event because you were showing off for Toph. That one goal against the Pens was not that impressive, I promise.”

Matt blinked. And it took Emma, approximately, three seconds and one emotion-fueled gasp for everything to click.

Because no one had ever been more excited for Killian Jones to make his return to Garden ice than Christopher Jones – even through all that thirteen-year-old teenage angst.

“Wasn’t me,” Matt muttered. “And that goal was insanely impressive and you know it.” “You flatter yourself.” “Wait until tomorrow. You’re going to be stunned.” “That so?” “Guaranteed.” “Care to place a wager on that?”

Matt’s smile was as wide as the entire goddamn island of Manhattan, eyes flashing and hair falling towards his eyes and Roland was already demanding to get in on that action too, Lizzie rummaging in her bag for a notebook to make sure the rules were properly documented.

Emma moved, fingers lacing with Killian’s on instinct and several other things that would make everyone in a twenty-foot radius groan and gag and Chris had three cookies in one hand. “Slow down kid,” she said. “Didn’t your brother feed you?” Chris nodded, bobbing on the balls of his feet. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, but then we were watching the film from the first Cup run and he was letting me practice that shot Rook took--”

“--In his apartment?” “Matt doesn’t care about his security deposit. You see his rookie signing bonus?” Emma scoffed, but she couldn’t argue and Chris probably knew more about the contract than Matt did. At least as much as Regina did. “And?” she prompted.

“And that was a really good goal at the end of the game, Dad.” Killian’s hand squeezed Emma’s. “Thanks,” he grinned, wrapping another arm around Chris’ middle and pulling him back to his side and there was the teenage angst, right on schedule in disgruntled noise form. “Nah, nah, you don’t get to compliment me and then try and get out of being properly parented in public.” “That sentence doesn’t even make any sense.” “You want to get on the ice later?” “I mean...obviously, but only so I can figure out how you got enough speed on that breakaway.” “Don’t expect too much out of him, Toph,” Robin said, a kid clinging to his side who did not appear to appreciate the amount of noise the Jones Line was making. “He was running on adrenaline and the end of the game and trying to impress your Mom.” “Gross,” Matt and Peggy yelled in tandem.

“True though,” Will promised. “Almost always for like eons.” “It has not been that long, Scarlet,” Killian objected.

“Hasn’t it? Time flies and keeps on slipping and all that. I got a question for you, Cap.” Killian hummed, caution in the sound and Chris’ eyes darted between the two of them like he was watching a passing exercise. “Who’s going to wear twenty in this game?” Will asked, and it was like someone had pressed pause or pulled all the oxygen out of the entire planet and Emma was not entirely prepared for Ruby to curse as loudly as she did.

“Aw, shit,” she growled, stomping her foot for emphasis. “I didn’t even think about that.” “And you don’t have to,” Killian promised. HIs hand was still a vice around Emma’s though, and Chris appeared to have turned into some kind of stone, the number on his back growing larger with every passing second. Or at least it felt that way.

“Hey, what?” Matt asked sharply. “That’s my number.” Killian shook his head. “That’s my number.”

“Are you kidding me?” “Are you?” “I’m not giving up my number,” Matt said evenly, and Emma wasn’t sure who laughed loudest or longest, but she had to resist the urge to glance at the ceiling because her kid never really tried to sound like Killian, but it usually happened that way more often than not.

Killian didn’t move, didn’t pull his hand away from Emma, but she swore he got taller or more intimidating and Matt’s shoulders slumped slightly. “If I’m going to play in this game, then I’m going to wear my number,” Killian said.

“Captain voice,” Chris mumbled, Matt rolling his whole head in frustration.

“See if I feed you again later, C,” he groaned. “Dad, is this a joke? It’s my number. Currently. I’m going to wear it in a couple of weeks when camp starts.” “Because he’s a professional hockey player now, Hook, you see,” Roland grinned, gaze darting towards Peggy when she couldn’t keep her laugh in her body.

“I’m well aware of what he is, mate. I’m just not entirely understanding why that’s got any bearing on what number he wears for this game.” “I’ve never worn anything except twenty,” Matt cried. “This is insane.” “Nah, I think that’s just you and Dad, MD,” Peggy said. “Also you’re both ridiculously superstitious. That might be the most insane part.” “That’s definitely the most insane part,” Lizzie agreed.

“Ah, that was nice backup. Sorry for you calling you Elizabeth before, it felt weird when I was saying it. I’d like to never do it again.” “I’d like to never hear it again.” “Done.” Peggy shrugged. “Maybe Uncle Liam can just check MD tomorrow instead. It was his fault anyway.” “Consider it done, Pegs,” Liam grinned, Elsa only groaning slightly at the guarantee. It didn’t matter. Emma groaned loudly enough for the both of them.

“You guys can’t check each other,” she said. “It’s a charity game. We’ve had this conversation, I know we have. I was there.” “We don’t know how to play any other way,” Will argued. Ruby was never going to stop cursing. That was probably what the stories would be about. “And I really, really want to check Cap.” “I’m not drafting you, Scarlet, I don’t know how you’re going to check Cap,” Robin said.

Will checked him. Without a stick.

“Scarlet, if you do that again, I will never let you on Garden ice,” Ruby threatened.

“Can you actually do that?” “You want to challenge it?” “I mean, not particularly.” “Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Ruby grinned, but that felt a little threatening too and Merida had finally hung up her phone.

“Are we all here?” she asked. Her hair was in even more disarray than Peggy’s. “Where’s Rook? And Humbert? Why did we invite Humbert?” Several pairs of eyes flashed towards Peggy, color rising in her cheeks and the toe of her shoe digging into the ground. “All of you guys are the worst,” she mumbled. “Can we focus on MD and Dad being crazy people instead? That’s way more fun.” “It is a little crazy, KJ,” Elsa said. “This is your kid. Wearing your number.” Killian narrowed his eyes. “A beacon of support, El. I can’t play on Garden ice if I’m not wearing my number. Peg’s right, it’s way too many superstitions.” “That’s ridiculous.” “You want to be responsible for the broken bones I’ll inevitably endure when Scarlet checks me?” Emma wasn’t sure what noise she made – a groan and gasp and possibly some kind of inhuman growl, but her head collided almost painfully with Killian’s shoulder and the twenty on her back was his twenty and they were arguing over possession of numbers.

“Wait, what?” Merida asked sharply. She looked like she was considering using the clipboard in her hand as a weapon.

“Nothing, nothing, Mer,” Robin promised. Killian’s eyes, somehow, got more narrow. “We’re super behind schedule, right? You look like you want to kill us.” “I don’t want to kill you. I want to know where Rook and Humbert are.” “Hey, hey, hey,” Phillip yelled, one hand in the air and Emma could just make out Canucks colors and Will was going to check Graham before he checked Killian. Before the game started. “We’re here, we’re here, Mer, please don’t curse us or anything. Did you guys start? Humbert was worried Cap was going to start without him so he didn’t have to draft him.” “Ok, I never said I’d do that,” Killian muttered, but that didn't ring quite true either and Peggy was biting her lip again. And doing an absolutely horrible job of avoiding Jeremy Humbert’s very obvious gaze.

“Right, right, God, should I be this out of breath before I’ve got to wreck all of you tomorrow?” “Wow, just starting real early with the trash talk, huh, Rook?” Ruby asked.

“I wanted to make up for lost time. Plus, I’ve got nothing on the Jones Line. Hey Pegs, when’d you land?” Peggy opened her mouth to answer, but Ruby was back to threatening and the media horde was starting to get restless and they really did need to draft a team. Preferably before Killian challenged Jeremy Humbert to one-on-one combat. Or Liam did. Or Will did. Or Matt did.

Peggy pushed her signs into Killian’s chest. “They both say skate fast,” she announced. “Because both you and MD are ridiculously fast and superstitious and I’m not that creative.”

Killian stared at her for a beat, those eons Will was talking about before seemingly passing by them just to prove a point or toy with Emma’s emotions. Peggy didn’t argue when he tugged her forward, brushing a kiss over the crown of her hair like she was a kid and not an even better athlete than her professional athlete brother.

“Thank you, little love,” he said. “C’mon, let’s go draft a team.”

That, however, proved to be more difficult than just standing at those absurd podiums with an absurd number of cameras pointed at them and Chris didn’t appreciate when Emma’s head fell to his shoulder. Peggy’s head was on his other side.

“I’m not actually a pillow person,” Chris hissed, while Ruby explained the rules and one player for every pick and please keep this rated PG and a few fans laughed at that. Robin won the coin toss to pick first. They literally flipped a coin. “God, P, stop digging your elbow into my hip.” “That is not where your hip is, Toph.” “Can you guys relax, please?” Emma asked, but it was drifting dangerously close to begging already and no one had even made a pick yet.

“Toph and MD didn’t invite me to their super cool, super hangout thing,” Peggy said. “That means I can do whatever I want with my elbows.” “I don’t think that’s entirely true, babe.” “And we didn’t know what time you were going to land,” Chris added. “So, like...move your elbow or I’m going to tell Jeremy Humbert you want to marry him.” Peggy jabbed him in the side, drawing a far too loud to be appropriate exclamation out of Chris that also led to him jumping to his feet and a shoulder slamming into Emma’s jaw. Killian’s head snapped up, both hands gripping the side of his podium with a wide-eyed gaze, like he was waiting for the inevitable broken bone or someone to find a stick somewhere and start hitting the other in the ankles.

Emma sighed.

And she almost didn’t hear it at first.

Peggy and Chris stopped arguing immediately.

“What?” Killian rasped, and Robin grinned like he’d already won the entire goddamn game.

“I said, with the first overall pick in whatever we’re calling this--” “--The summer classic, Locksley,” Ruby growled. “God, we’ve been over this.” “Right, right, yeah, that’s not very creative though.” “I’m going to revoke your captaincy, right here.” “Oh my God, Lucas, do it,” Will yelled, Liam shouting his own encouragements and Emma couldn’t actually see Matt anymore. He appeared to have slumped in his seat, Roland trying to pull him back up by the scruff of his own jersey.

“Say that again, Locksley,” Killian challenged. Robin’s expression didn’t change. “I’m drafting your kid, Cap. First overall, so, uh...congrats Matt, even better than your actual draft.”

Emma didn’t remember standing, only that she was and that was kind of a problem because her knees didn’t seem all that interested in functioning like actual parts of her body.

“It’s not like I didn’t get drafted, Uncle Robin,” Matt countered, but Robin shrugged and Ruby was trying to get him to come on stage so he could change jerseys. “Wait, wait, wait,” he sputtered. “This isn’t actually a joke?” “Please don’t call this event a joke, mini-Jones,” Ruby said.

“I didn’t mean it like that, Ru.” “Yeah, sure you didn’t. I really need you to put this jersey on and pose for a photo. Like twenty minutes ago, honestly, but your parents were probably flirting and--” “--Hey,” Killian cut in sharply, and Emma hoped Ruby hadn’t done damage to any of her teeth when she snapped her jaw closed. “Alright, with the second overall pick in whatever the hell we’re calling this ridiculous game, I draft Roland Locksley. And I’m keeping my number, Matthew.”

Robin’s mouth fell open.

“Oh my God,” Ruby mumbled, head in her hands and Merida had dropped her clipboard on the ground. “Mini-Jones, I wasn’t kidding about the photo. That goes for you too now, Rol.” Roland saluted. “Sure thing, Rubes. You see what a better choice the number two overall pick is? Ready and willing to report for duty.” “You’re a kiss-up,” Matt hissed.

“And that’s an insult you came up with when you were eight years old. It still doesn’t make any sense now, Mattie.” “Aw, c’mon.” “Mattie Jones, going to lose more than half his faceoffs tomorrow afternoon.” “You’re a winger, Locksley,” Matt challenged, and Emma pinched the bridge of her nose, her two other kids enthusiastically cheering for whatever against the rules trash talk was preventing Ruby from staying on photo schedule.

“Who’s not going to score any goals tomorrow,” Peggy yelled. “Down with the Flyers! Fly away home, Locksley!” “That was kind of funny, P,” Chris grinned.

“Right? I’ve been waiting to use that forever. Who shows up in orange in New York? You look ridiculous!”

Roland ignored both of them.  “True, I am a winger, but you’re some kind of All-Rookie centerman, so that’s free bait to mock.” “That doesn’t make sense either! Yours makes less sense than mine did! At least I was eight, that gives me some more leeway to--” “--Guys, please,” Ruby groused. David was hysterical. The subReddit was probably already talking about this. Emma was pretty positive there was a live stream somewhere. “Locksley you’ve got to make another pick.”

“Of course, Lucas,” Robin said. “I’d like everyone to take notice that my draft pick couldn’t take his picture in a timely fashion because Cap’s draft pick stalled him.” “That’s your kid, Locksley,” Killian yelled.

“No, no, for the next forty-eight hours, that’s your right winger.” “Oh my God. I want Rook on my team.” “Cap, you can’t go out of order,” Ruby yelled, jumping slightly in frustration and Phillip was already standing up.

“Yeah, I don’t care. Rook, c’mere, you know how to take faceoffs?” “Are you kidding me, Killian?” Liam shouted. They were all, apparently, going to stand up now. “You’re going to draft a winger before you draft an actual centerman. Whose rookie record for faceoff wins stood for a very long time.” “He’d like the record to show,” Anna intoned dramatically. Elsa had to put her hand over her mouth to stop her laughter. It didn’t work at all.

“Yeah, how’d that work out for you, Uncle Liam?” Matt asked archly.

Liam crossed his arms. “Don’t get uppity on me, kid. I’m willing to bet at least twenty bucks and some form of food for both you and your constantly hungry brother, if I win more faceoffs than you tomorrow.” “What if we’re on the same team?” “And I’m not always hungry,” Chris objected, a choir of ehhs raining down on him.

“C, you literally ate an entire box of cinnamon LIFE this morning,” Matt sighed, refusing to acknowledge Peggy’s outcry at that. The media horde was going to have a field day with this. “Alright, Uncle Liam, you’re on. No matter what team we’re on. You win more faceoffs than me, I want food, real food, not street cart shit.” “Matthew,” several adults shouted, and both the media and fans laughed loudly.

“You got a deal, kid,” Liam said, finally sitting back down.

Ruby inhaled, shoulders moving with the force of it. “Can we take two seconds to focus on what we’re actually here to do?” she snapped. “Cap, you can have Rook, I honestly do not--” “--Hey, I thought there were rules,” Robin interrupted. He’d definitely done damage to several teeth when Ruby very clearly tried to turn him to stone with the force of her glare. “Fine, fine, fine, then I take Humbert.”

Graham flashed a cautious smile over his shoulder, and Killian groaned, slouching so his forearms rested on the podium.

“Hey, remember that time Humbert punched, Cap?” Will asked brightly. “That was fun. What good memories we’ve got, huh?”

“You’re not doing your draft stock any favors, Scarlet,” Emma chided. He winked at her.

Ruby had sat down at some point. This was going to get its own 30 for 30 based solely on the absurdity of it all. “Alright, Locksley,” she said. “Back to you.”

It went that way for what felt like several increasingly long eternities, Emma tugging Chris back down so she had something to lean on and he didn’t bother arguing when Peggy moved to rest her head on his leg. And Emma couldn't really say she was surprised. Even if she hadn’t known about the pre-draft meetings, she knew both Killian and Robin would absolutely try to pick Will last, but she hadn’t expected it to come down to him and Liam.

There was a considerable amount of cursing going on in Norwegian.

“This is honestly insulting,” Liam announced, not for the first time.

“And embarrassing,” Elsa chipped in. “Babe, you’ve got to sit down. The pacing thing is freaking me out and you’re only playing into KJ’s plan.” “I have no plan, El,” Killian promised, but his eyes flickered towards Emma and his answering smile when she mouthed liar was honestly unfair. “I’m merely weighing my options.” “You’re being a jerk is what you’re being, KJ,” Anna corrected. “Lording your power.” “You think Liam will pull a hamstring from pacing so much? Can’t be healthy or a guy of age.” “Oh screw you, Killian,” Liam seethed, wincing when he realized what he’d said. “Sorry, Lucas. Just like...tell the media not to listen to me or something.” “Yeah, I don’t think it works like that,” Ruby said. She was still perched on the steps leading to the podiums, but she’d coerced Matt next to her some time in between the tenth and eleventh pick and they both looked dangerously close to falling asleep.

Emma wondered how much film had actually been watched the night before.

“Seriously, Cap,” Robin sighed. “It’s not that hard. Pick Scarlet and live with your spotty at best defense.” “What the hell, Locksley?” Will seethed. “Listen, you’re more removed from the game than I am. By, like, actual seasons.” “Four seasons, Scarlet.” “Five, actually. Do you not know how to tell time?” “God, did you really play that long after I retired?” Will nodded quickly, sarcasm practically radiating off the movement. “Yeah, you’re old, Locksley. And you are notoriously terrible in the defensive zone, so maybe you’re the one who needs a defender in this game.” “Where are you trying to get drafted, Scarlet?” Emma asked.

“At this point, I genuinely don’t care. I just want to go before Leader, so I can brag about that for the rest of time and then we can all get some food somewhere.”

“Yeah, seriously,” Ariel said, perched on the same seat as Mary Margaret with what appeared to be cookie crumbs sticking to the pads of her fingers.

Ruby made a noise that was equal parts absurd and impressive. “Did you teleport here?”

“Snuck in during the whole who gets to draft whose child debacle. M’s fed me, but this has honestly taken several lifetimes, right? Did someone feed Chris? He’s probably chewing Emma’s arm off back there.” “He and Pegs went to get pretzels like twenty minutes ago,” Emma explained. “You hit traffic in the tunnel?” “Someday that construction will be over. Hey, Pegs, how was your flight?”

Peggy opened her mouth to answer, but Ruby clicked her tongue and Liam threw his head back and there really weren’t many fans left. They’d exhausted the fans with their nonsense.

“You’ve really got to pick, KJ,” Elsa said, a note of ancient command in her voice that made several next-gen children sit up straighter. “Just take Liam so Anna and I can freak out about it.”

Killian tilted his head, and Emma could almost hear the thoughts and the metaphorical gears, and she wasn’t entirely sure what she’d do if that happened, but the world still didn’t seem to care because--

“I’ll take Liam,” Killian said, shrugging like it wasn’t a big and huge and emotional deal. “Need a centerman anyway.” “Wow, that’s a glorious show of support, little brother,” Liam muttered.

“Younger. And it’ll be easier for you to face off against Matt if you’re actually facing off against Matt.” “Jeez, Dad,” Matt mumbled. “That competitive streak knows no bounds, huh?” “You wouldn’t give me my number.”

“You going to score on a breakaway to impress, Mom?” Killian’s eyes flashed back towards Emma, standing again with an arm around Chris and something fluttering in her chest that might have been her heart or her pulse or the same thing it had done for eons because he still looked at her the same way he had all those same eons ago.

And she knew the answer to the question already.

“Every single time,” Killian grinned. Smirked. It was really a smirk. God, that worked so well.

Peggy gagged. “You better score a breakaway too then, MD. Show off that speed or something.”

“Yeah, well, you made a sign, right, Mar?” he asked. She nodded. “Alright, alright, well, I’ve got a distinct lack of cinnamon LIFE in my apartment now, so what do you say, Dad?” Killian quirked an eyebrow. “To?”

“A wager. Best breakaway has to refill my apartment with food because your kid depleted all my recently purchased groceries and probably will when he stays over again tonight.” “I’m staying over again tonight?” Chris asked, excitement obvious in every letter.

Matt shrugged. “I figured.” “Yeah, yeah, yeah, ok!” “Hey, uh, not to spoil this undeniably adorable and only slightly debaucherous Jones family moment,” Will cut in. “But is anyone going to bother to draft me because it’s garbage you guys are being jerks about this.”

Robin laughed, jumping off the podium with an agility that was only slightly surprising. “Sure thing Scarlet,” he said. “I draft you, and if you let up a single goal, especially a Cap breakaway while you’re on the ice, I will check my own top defenseman, deal?” “Jeez, Locksley, you are insane when given any power. Gina, you know he’s like this?” Regina waved her hands through the air, a grandkid asleep on her shoulder. “I’m refusing to acknowledge any of this. I’m showing up in orange tomorrow, Jones, try and keep me out of the Garden.” “I wouldn’t dare, Gina,” Killian promised. He glanced back at Matt, a smug smile on his face and arms crossed over the twenty that really was both of theirs and Emma was going to hurt her neck shaking her head so often. “Alright, kid,” he said. “We’ve both got to try for breakaways, whoever gets it wins?” “What if you both get it?” Anna asked.

“Mom’ll judge,” Matt shrugged.

“No, no, no,” Emma exclaimed. “I am not doing that. I am not picking sides in any of this. This is absolutely insane and superstitious and I expect goals from both of you.” Killian laughed softly, covering more ground than Emma was entirely ready for and he was in her space almost immediately, lips on hers and a hand on her hip and the entire neighborhood probably groaned at that. “Deal, Swan,” Killian muttered, not bothering to move away from her mouth. “I’m totally going to win, though.” “God, that’s the weirdest thing you’ve ever said to me.” “This doesn’t answer the question though,” Anna pointed out. “If you guys both score on breakaways, then someone’s got to win the bet. Matt can’t be without cinnamon LIFE forever.” “God forbid,” Killian chuckled.

“I’ll do it,” Will said, a note in his voice that refused any questions. “I doubt either of them’ll score because my defense will be that good against Cap and Dr. J absolutely cannot cope with beating Cap, so I’m going to win by default. But I’m more than happy to judge if they manage to try it or whatever.” “Eloquent as always, Scarlet,” Robin murmured.

“Yeah, well you should have drafted me earlier. Can we eat now or should we stick around and scandalize the New York media some more?” “Nah, I think we’ve done more than enough of that,” Ruby said. “I refuse to share a cab with Cap and Emma. They’re going to make eyes at each other.” “Not true,” Emma argued, an arm around her shoulders and kids already groaning before she added. “We’re totally going to make out in the back of the cab, so…” Killian kissed the top of her hair. And hailed a cab. And made out in the backseat.

#cs ff #captain swan ff #captain swan #captain swan fic #cs fic #blue line one shots #CHRIS JONES IS REAL EXCITED TO SEE HIS DAD PLAY HOCKEY AND IT'S MESSING WITH EMMA'S EMOTIONS #everyone is a superstitious mess

[revengeworld]

Let the Past die. XIV

Zombie Apocalypse AU

Kylo x Reader (+ Solo siblings)

Words: +2.400

Warnings: Actually none, probably Kylo or Y/N swearing like always haha

AN: more fluff for you guys, since i felt like it :) since i had a horrible weekend last time

MY MASTERLIST

REQUESTS

Previous Chapter - Dreams

Chapter 14 – Burning Love

In just two weeks time Kylo was already back in shape, following a strict training routine.

“So where do you want to go?” Kylo grunted while pushing himself off the floor, before lowering his body again.

Y/N was laying on her side on the comfortable mattress, while watching him doing his push ups, a map in her hand.

“I don´t know… I can´t concentrate when you look so sweaty.” she announced bluntly and Kylo started to laugh and fell back on the ground.

Grinning, since she got him ice cold, she started to unfold the map. “There is a mall here. I would like to look for some clothes, Ben is having a growth spurt I didn´t even know was possible.” she mumbled and rolled onto her chest.

“It´s quite far, we would need a place to stay for a night. Or maybe even two...” Kylo suddenly grinned but she gave him a light tap against the tip of his nose.

“Hey this isn´t a vacation, you little pervert!” chuckling she looked back at the map.

“What? A little honeymoon wouldn´t be a bad idea.” still flat on the floor he stretched his arm out to stroke through her hair.

“H...honeymoon...” she repeated quiet and stared at him before her cheeks turned red, but quickly her brows furrowed.

“Idiot...” Y/N pouted while Kylo carefully leaned over her and let his whole weight crush down on her.

“Too heavy!” she squealed while hitting the mattress with her hands. “Time out!”

“Since when am I the only person who wants to have some fun?” he let out a huff, while Y/N had stopped moving.

“A lot of things have changed...” she only whispered and he slowly stood up and pulled her with him.

“Y/N?” raising an eyebrow he looked into her eyes and she showed him a small smile before giving him a small smooch on the tip of his nose.

“Hey you two Lovebirds how about you come down for a second?” they suddenly heard Luke shout from downstairs.

Growling in annoyance, Kylo glared at the door and Y/N took a deep breath.

“Fucking interruptions...” he mumbled to himself, offering his lady a hand and helped her up on her feet.

Jumping down the stairs, Y/N immediately caught Ben who was looking into the fridge and started to twirl with him through the living room.

“What did he do this time?” the small boy grinned, while he was hanging from her arms.

“He tried to crush me with his so called muscles! Can you believe that?” she asked dramatically shocked and Ben started to giggle.

“Yeah he got so fat from just laying around all the time.” Ben nodded wisely and they heard Kylo growl from a far.

“You two….” he hissed dangerously low and both of them only struck out their tongues.

Luke who was mostly watching these kind of situations with a smiled, suddenly started to giggle as well.

“Having you kids around is really a blessing, It never gets boring.” the old man nodded with a smile, while sipping on his herbal tea.

“So what did you wanna talk about, uncle?” Kylo asked before taking a seat on the dining table next to Matt who was focused on his tinkering.

Ruffling through Matts blond locks to get his attention, Kylo took a closer look at what he was working on. It was a completely disassembled radio, which he seemed to upgrade.

“It seems like the winter will soon get harsher, so the trip you two are planning to search for more resources you should leave at least in the next few days.”Luke explained to them and Y/N and Kylo looked at each other.

“So I wanted to talk about the resources we needed and christmas is around the corner so a few presents would be nice.” he giggled and Kylo rolled his eyes a little.

“Really? We can have presents?” Ben suddenly asked excited, looking up to Y/N who was still holding him. “Sure I don´t see anything that speaks against it.” she nodded.

“Nice! I´ll write a list!” Jumping out of her Arms, the small boy quickly run up the stairs.

“Then let´s plan this trip properly.” Y/N joined the Boys on the table with her map, pens and paper.

“Not so fast...” Luke interrupted while standing up from his place to walk over to them. “Matt and I think that an extension for this hut would be necessary. We could connect the Hut and the Workshop, since they stand close enough together.”

“We can´t build now, the snow would just make everything more difficult and ruin the wood.” Y/N countered and Luke nodded.

“But we can plan ahead. Looking for the right materials and where we can find them so when spring comes we can start early.” he patting her head.

“It will take us a few days to gather stuff, especially if Ben wishes for something specific. Is that alright?” Kylo suddenly grinned at Y/N who was squinting her eyes at him with suspicion.

“As long as you two will be alright I don´t mind.” Luke shrugged his shoulders and layed his hands on her shoulder.

“But I would appreciate that haircut you were offering the other day, before you guys leave.” he admitted and looked at the long bangs that were hanging in his eyes.

“Sure thing. Matt I could cut yours as well then.” Y/N offered and the blond nodded almost relieved.

After they had discussed everything they needed and what route Kylo and her would take, Y/N already was starting to pack their stuff they would need.

Watching her from the door entry he only smiled down at her, he loved his family, but he very much looked forward to the time he would have alone with his beautyfull girlfriend.

“AHA! I finally found you!” furrowing his brows he let himself fall onto their sleeping site and tried to guess what she was holding onto.

“What did you find?” he asked, just giving up.

“My razor! I can finally shave again.” giggling excited Kylo only tilted his head slightly.

“You know, you don´t need to do it because of me.” he stated quickly, not to pressure her in any way.

“I know.” kissing the tip of his nose she smiled at him. “I just want to feel a little pretty again, even though we have the end of the world. Maybe I even get some dresses on this trip. Would be useful in the summer.” she started to mumble the rest while thinking of their little so called shopping trip.

“Whatever makes you feel better, Love. I still love you even as a hairy gremlin.”

Laughing to herself she let her fingers run through his beard. “But only because the world ended. Oh no wait, I remember a few song phrases that you would love me regardless of mostly anything and that was when the world hadn´t ended yet.”

Suddenly Kylos cheeks started to burn. “So you did read my songtexts you damn Minx!” trying to grab her, Y/N quickly stood up and ran out of the room.

Sprinting after her she already locked herself in the bathroom.

Looking around the corner; Ben was curious about the sudden tumult, but seeing the flustered face of his brother the little boy could already guess what happened.

“Oh oh ...” he whispered and Kylo immediately shot him a glare and the small boy started running.

“Why did you tell him that we read his journal?!” Ben cursed Y/N, who only laughed in the bathroom, while Kylo was chasing his little brother into the snow.

When the next morning came, Kylo was grumpier then ever. Sure he was excited, but this night he and Y/N both didn´t have a lot of sleep. His pretty little  girlfriend had turned so much that he got pushed and kicked the whole night.

At some point, the only thing that kept her still was when Kylo wrapped the blanket around her and held Y/N tightly.

Now she was laying next to him, most of her hair had fallen into her sweet face, until Matt and Ben woke up and started to rummage threw the room.

Groaning Kylo held his arm over his Eyes until he felt Y/N legs over his side, while she tried to climb over him. “Don´t go yet...” wrapping his arm around one of her smooth legs, he just pulled his pillow over his head.

“Kylo we need to get ready ...” she huffed, but cuddled up against his warm back.

Lightly chuckling, he let his fingers run up and down her leg. “Then you shouldn´t get so comfortable, my Love.”

He gave her a few more minutes, before he pushed himself of the comfortable and warm bed, brushing the strands of hair out of her sleeping face.

Leaning over her he showered Y/N with small butterfly kisses.

“Come on, it´s time for our adventure.”

Around noon, they were all standing next to their trusty red Truck, saying good bye to others.

Hugging everyone tightly they were soon on the road.

“What did Luke gave you?” Kylo asked while carefully driving on the snowy path.

Looking at the case, she giggled a little bit. “It´s an Elvis CD for the Road. Wanna listen to it?”

“Always! It´s the King, throw it in!” Kylo said excited but soon looked confused at the radio, when a deep womans voice echoed through the drivers cabin.

“Thats not Elvis!”

Looking at the case again, Y/N laughed when she read the index. “It´s a cover CD, this is Burning Love from Wynonna.”

Kylo sighed annoyed, but Y/N soon started to loudly sing along and he couldn´t prevent the smile that was forming on his lips.

They decided to drive as long as they could, since the biters were mostly inactive in the winter they didn´t need to fear to drive into a herd.

Looking closely onto the street, Y/N risked a quick glance to Kylo who was sleeping in the passenger seat.

When she drove into a driveway of a, what seemed to be a secure house, Kylo woke up from the rumbling.

“Are we there?” he mumbled while brushing over his eyes.

“Yeah, the Mall is just 10 minutes away now.” jumping out of the truck, she opened the garage door, so Kylo could park it.

Clearing the House in mere seconds, the soon stood next to each other, both heavy breathing because they just barricaded the front door with a heavy closet.

“Safe enough?” Kylo suddenly asked and she tilted her head confused.

“Sure?” Y/N mumbled and looked at the barricaded room. Suddenly feeling Kylos big hand on her hip, he quickly picked her up and pinned her against the next wall before crashing his lips onto hers.

“Kylo!” she giggled between kisses and wrapped her arms around his neck as long with her legs around his waist.

Soon the kiss turned more and more passionate, while Kylo carefully tried to get up the stairs with Y/N in his arms.

Clumsily falling onto the bed, Kylo couldn´t keep his hands off her.

“I don´t think I will be able to stop, gorgeous...” he whispered into her ear, before gently nibbling on her earlobe.

With one strong thrust with her hip, Y/N had pinned down Kylo on the bed.

“Then we don´t stop.” she grinned down at him, before grabbing the hem of her sweatshirt and pulling it over her head.

“Oh fuck ...” Kylo could only mumble, when he saw her just sitting on him in her bra.

Letting his rough hands run along her sides, Y/N shivered under his touch while she bit her lower lip.

Leaning forward, he started to place small kisses onto her stomache before letting them wander higher until he was finally able to catch her lips again.

“Are you sure you want to ...” cutting his sentence off with another kiss, she slowly let his hands to the back of her bra.

“I am! Just shut up already...” softly chuckling into her hungry kisses, Kylos heart was about to burst, when he opened the hooks of her underwear.

Looking down at her sleeping figure, Kylo felt like he was in a dream again. He just couldn´t believe what had happened this night. Well to be honest he still couldn´t believe that since two weeks she was finally his.

“You are so beautyfull...” he whispered quietly, while stroking her hair out of her face so he could see her face better.

“And you are so cute, when you think I can´t hear you...” she started to giggle and Kylos brows immediately furrowed.

“Sure, whatever...” he huffed before pulling her into his arms.

“Is it morning already?” she asked, while leaning onto his chest.

“Almost, it should be sunrise soon. Why?” Kylo yawned and looked out of the window.

“Because today is our Date and I planned a nice Breakfast for us.” placing a long kiss on his lips, she slowly left the bed and stole the shirt from Kylo of the floor before slipping in her slip.

Leaning back in his pillow, he followed her with his eyes before biting his lip.

“You´re hopefully getting ready and not stare at my ass.” he heard her call when she left the room and he could only chuckle.

After a quick shower, Kylo joined Y/N in the small kitchen. Brushing her hair on one side of the shoulder, he soon let his lips wander over the soft skin of her neck, wrapping his arms around her waist.

“Don´t...I´m gonna mess it up...” she giggled while holding onto the frying pan. Taking a look, at it Kylos Eyes widened in excitement.

“Are those fucking Pancakes?!” he almost screamed and she shushed him quickly with a kiss.

“Not the best ones but a good replacement.” Y/N pointed at the Milk Powder which would normally used for babys but it worked for them as well.

Sitting with Kylo at the Kitchen Isle and munching their Pancakes it almost felt normal.

“I actually thought you would at least hold out until we had our first date.” Y/N mumbled with a full mouth and Kylo only chuckled, kissing her cheek.

“Well you are just that sexy that I couldn´t contain myself any longer.” he purred into her ear and let his nose gently brush over it.

Grabbing the empty plates she slipped from the stool and placed the dished into the sink.

“We have a few condoms left.” Y/N heard him whisper in her ear and turned around with a raised brow.

“Kylo geez!” she giggled while he kissed her cheek, before tracing his lips along her neck.

“Hey we need to use our freedom wisely, my Love! At least here we don´t get interrupted all the time.”

Throwing her over his shoulder, he already sprinted up the stairs while Y/N laugh echoed through the empty house.

Tags: @karma-jolie @sdavid09 @celestiaelisia @hungrymango @feistybaby @attorneyl @zoemonster200 @marveloussirens11 @plethora-of-things @ayatimascd @ghostslikemydoubts

#kylo ren #kylo ren au #kylo ren imagine #kylo ren fanfic #kylo #kylo au #kylo imagine #kylo fanfic #kylo ren x reader #kylo ren x you #kylo x reader #kylo x you #star wars au #ben solo au #ben solo #matt solo au #matt the radar technician #matt the radar technician au #zombie au

[lpdwillwrite4coffee]

Breaking Free (I Feel Violent) pt.2

{Post-TPS Kastle fic written for @purelyfueledbycaffeine‘s birthday and Beta’d by @kteague. Don’t let the holiday timeline fool you, there’s plenty of angst to go around.}

{Part 1}

* Thanksgiving came and went, and soon Karen was noticing more and more Christmas lights decorating shop windows. Small plastic trees with tiny ornaments on her co-workers’ desks and in the break room, shiny garland hung around the office, even Ellison had multi-colored lights around his door, and he was Jewish.

“Everyone enjoys twinkle lights, Karen,” he’d told her when she saw him hanging them up. She’d just giggled and walked by to get another cup of coffee.

Things almost felt normal again.

Almost.

She still woke up in the middle of the night to the sounds of exploding doorframes, metal doors being wrenched from their hinges, the feeling of a solid arm and calloused hand gripping her head, her neck, tangling in her hair.

A sandpaper voice asking, “You okay?” through the ringing in her ears.

Karen was back to old habits and she couldn’t muster up the energy to care. Staying late at the office, going home and refusing to sleep until it was necessary to be able to function the next day. She was drinking too much coffee, eating too little, and when she wasn’t overloading her system with caffeine, she was having a glass of wine for dinner. The glass usually turned into a bottle on weekends, if she didn’t have anywhere to be the next day.

It was like looking in on herself from outside a window. She could see herself making the same choices—ones she’d once declared self-destructive after Matt died and tried to give up—but she didn’t have the willpower to stop herself.

At least she knew how to operate in these patterns. She knew this dance. She even knew how to cover up her missteps.

Her work never suffered. In fact, she thrived on the strenuous deadlines, the constant hum of adrenaline in her system. Thrived on it because she could hide in it.

You’re gonna break, you know, that voice warned. You’ll break, and no one will even know why.

Karen swallowed her tepid coffee, imagining that voice drowning in it, and got to work on her next story.

***

The company Christmas party was always on the 23rd, and Ellison demanded Karen take Christmas Eve, Christmas, and the following two days off. She’d been pumping out article after article and he thought giving her time off was a reward. But Karen’s heart started beating double-time, the edges of panic closing in. She didn’t want the time off, she didn’t want to be in her apartment, alone, for 4 full days. Foggy was up to his neck in briefings, and Karen’s fledgling friendship with Trish Walker wasn’t exactly to the level of ‘come distract me from myself over Christmas’ yet, which left Karen precisely in the Party of One category.

She tried, and failed, to convince Ellison she didn’t need the time.

“Nonsense,” he said, shaking his head in that way that could only be described as ‘dad-like’. “Take the vacation. You’ll be getting paid for it anyway, so it’s not like you really have an excuse not to.”

Karen opened her mouth to respond and then quickly snapped it closed. It felt like another trap, a way to get her to slip up and tell him what’s really on her mind.

“Alright,” she said, flashing a quick smile. “You’re the boss.”

“Don’t remind me,” he said, leaving her office to deliver edits to a couple other staff writers.

Karen was surprised she enjoyed the office party as much as she did. As she sipped her punch, spiked with something much stronger than she was used to, she absently thought if she was soaking up as much social interaction as she could, knowing she was about to be thrust into isolation come the morning.

Way to be a Debbie Downer, she thought, snorting at her own joke.

Maybe she should switch to water…

Karen and a few others were the last to leave, sharing a cab instead of marching through the snow and slush.

Warm from her buzz, but still in charge of most of her faculties, she made it up the 4 flights of stairs to her apartment with only a little swaying. Keys jingling in her hand, she took a moment to steady herself before attempting the lock, pressing her forehead to the door.

“Go, go on.”

“…Take care.”

A knot swelled in her throat, choking her.

She’d told him to go. She’d pulled herself away.

Maybe if she’d hung on a little longer, a little tighter… Maybe if…

Karen slid her key into the lock and twisted with such force she thought the key would snap, and was thankful it didn’t. Finding a locksmith two days before Christmas would be nearly impossible.

Flicking on the light, she dropped her purse on the entryway table, and shucked her coat, ready to fling it over the back of the couch. All she could think about were her warm flannel PJ bottoms and her fuzzy socks—a gift from Foggy for her birthday.

She left a trail of clothes and illumination as she moved through the apartment-- shedding her heels by the couch while she turned on the lights of her Christmas tree, her sweater over the back of a chair as she clicked on the lamp, her skirt and tights as she moved into her bedroom and turned on the reading light.

Before redressing, she dug a hair band out of her jewelry box and pulled her hair into a high ponytail. She caught herself humming a Christmas song—Last Christmas, the Wham! version—while she searched for a sweatshirt to go with her sleep pants. Eventually, with only one dramatic tilt to the side as she pulled on her PJs, she was comfortable and warm and ready to crash on her couch with a bad movie playing on the tv.

She made it three steps out of her bedroom when she saw black boots, dark jeans, dark… everything.

Karen gasped, hand flying to her throat.

Lamp light and the reds and greens from her tree gave the figure dimension. And finally, she could make out the face under the dark hat and hood.

She’d know that nose anywhere.

“Frank?” She breathed.

Hands lifted to push back his hood, to remove his hat. A smile started to curve his mouth.

“Merry Christmas, Karen.”

She blinked. She blinked again.

He wasn’t disappearing.

“What… What are you doing here?” She could barely hear herself over the roar of her pulse in her ears.

He twisted his hat in his hands. “You didn’t close your door all the way…”

“How did you know my door was open?”

“…It’s not safe, Karen, you should know—”

“Frank, where have you been?” She snapped, cutting him off. She was suddenly feeling soberer. Shock will do that to a person.

Shifting on his feet, he glanced down, avoiding her stare. “I, uh…”

“I had business, Karen.” She expected to hear the same answer, in the same tone that made her cringe away from the prospect of prying.

Frank looked up at her, going still. “I’ve been around.”

Pinching her lips together tight, Karen inhaled steadily through her nose. She wasn’t sure what she’d expected from a reunion with Frank, but this… this wasn’t quite it.

If she was honest, he was ruining her buzz.

“Around, huh?” She asked, fighting the urge not to sneer. Turning, she went into her kitchen for a glass of water. She felt him take a couple steps closer.

“I guess you-- you heard about what happened at the carousel,” he said, voice like gravel swirling around a glass of whiskey.

Karen nodded, chugging the tap water and refilling her cup. “Yup.”

“They, uh… They wiped my prints. My records. Gave me a clean slate… sorta.”

“Heard that too.” Karen said, turning to brace her hip against the counter so she could look at him.

Frank smirked. “You talked to Madani.” It wasn’t a question.

“Sure did.” She knew how she sounded. Knew her voice was cold and unforgiving, but any urge to be compassionate hadn’t quite caught up yet.

The sliver of a grin still on his lips fell, and his brows furrowed. “Karen, hey…”

“You wanna know how that meeting went?” She interrupted again, anger fueled by whatever clear liquor she’d spent most of the night drinking rushing to the surface. “We got to have a special sit down with Madani, got to see the inside of her place—nice apartment, by the way—and she tells us, first about the drugs being smuggled out of Kandahar and Billy Russo’s involvement and then she says you’re alive.”

There was a beat of silence as she gauged his reaction. He was frozen, watching her. Waiting.

Pushing away from the counter, she continued. “Not just alive, but free. You’re not being prosecuted. You’re not going to jail. You’ve been given a new identity and have been out in the world for days.” She set her cup down on the kitchen island, next to the white roses that were wilting from lack of sunlight. “And then she had the nerve to use our… relationship as a veiled threat to stay in our lane and not pursue the Cerberus story or anything about Rawlins. To keep quiet.”

An almost imperceptible wince made the corners of his eyes wrinkle.

Karen locked her gaze on him, refusing to let up. “And you know what my first thought was? How good of friends could we possibly be if I didn’t even know he wasn’t in prison?”

Frank sniffed. “Ghosted on you before,” he said, voice impossibly deeper. “Didn’t seem to bother you much then.”

“Bullshit,” she snapped. “That was before, that was—”

“What? What was it, Karen?”

“That was different!”

“Different, yeah. You tellin’ me I’m dead to you now, that’s what made it different.”

“No, it was—”

“You just like gettin’ to call the shots,” Frank cut in, taking a step forward. “People can fuck off, but only on your terms, is that right?”

Karen’s face heated up, anger spiking her temperature. “That’s not what I’m saying!”

“No? No, then what are you saying?”

She stopped, taking a deep breath. “We were… Things changed, Frank. And I just thought…” She went to drag her fingers through her hair, only to remember she’d put it up. “I thought maybe if someone was worth a phone call, maybe it would’ve been me. But I guess… I guess I was wrong.”

Frank’s gaze softened, and she caught the movement of his lips as he mumbled incoherently under his breath before saying louder, “I wanted to. Thought about it. But…”

Karen braced herself for whatever explanation he was about to give her that would cancel her out of his life. Again.

“I… I wanted to get myself a little more right first.”

Confusion doused her anger and drew her brows together.

Frank looked down at his hat still in his hands. “Been goin’ to Curt’s group… It’s, uh… It helps. I think.” He shrugged one shoulder, glancing up. “Maybe what helps is that I want it to help… so…”

Karen’s lips parted. “I… I’m not sure I understand.”

“I wanted to tell you,” he said, with as soft of a voice as he could manage. “Thought about showing up with pizza and beer or some shit, like a surprise, but…” His head tilted, in that very Frank way of dismissing everything, even himself. “I, uh, I didn’t think… And then you started back at work—”

“How did you—”

“I’m a loyal reader of The New York Bulletin, Miss Page,” he said, tone a little lighter, a little jovial. “I saw you didn’t have any new articles for about a week, and then your name was on a front-page story, so I figured…”

Karen’s anger went from a rolling boil to a low simmer. “Still could’ve called.”

“Oh yeah?” He flashed a lopsided grin. “Wouldn’t’ve hung up on me, huh?”

Despite herself, Karen smiled. “Well, you did save my life. Twice.”

The tension from their argument evaporated, floating out of the room through the air ducts.

“You want something to drink?” She asked, feeling the need to do something with her hands.

“If you’re offerin’.”

“Beer?”

He grunted his agreement and she turned towards her fridge. Frank took to slowly wandering her living room, taking note of her decorations.

“Must’ve been a bitch gettin’ a tree all the way up here,” he said, jerking his chin at her Douglas Fir.

“Foggy helped,” she said, smiling as she brought him his beer.

Taking a swig from the bottle, Frank quirked an eyebrow. “Hm.”

“What?”

He shook his head and Karen could practically read what he wasn’t saying on his face.

She chuckled. “Foggy’s stronger than he looks.”

“For a suit, maybe.”

“He offered to help.”

“At least he’s got manners.”

Karen folded her arms over her stomach, still unsure of what to do with her hands. “You… wanna sit?”

She got to the sofa first, folding herself into the far corner as he took the opposite end, legs open in a wide V, back slouched just a little. She wasn’t used to seeing him in such a relaxed posture. It was… nice.

“The suit help you decorate too?” He asked, sipping his beer.

Karen shook her head, propping her elbow up on the back of the couch. “Nope, that was all me. So keep your criticisms to yourself.”

Frank grinned. “Nah, none of that. It looks great.”

They sat there for God knows how long, with Frank staring at the Christmas tree, and Karen staring at him.

He shifted a little on the cushion, resting the bottle on his knee. “Maria, she… She loved decorating for the holidays. She went all out too. Day after Thanksgiving it was like waking up in the North Pole.”

Karen giggled, and Frank turned his head to look at her.

“You… you got a favorite?” He asked, gesturing to the ornaments shimmering in the multicolored lights.

“Hmm…” Karen thought, looking up at her tree. “Maybe the fuzzy reindeer? Up there, near the top.” She pointed out the worn, handstitched reindeer.

“Yeah?”

She nodded, resting her head on her fist. “My grandma made it for me. She made ornaments for all the grandkids. The reindeer is mine, my brother got a snowman, my cousin got… um, I think she got a Christmas mouse—"

“A what?” Frank asked, bottle halfway to his lips.

“You know, a little Christmas mouse,” she said, trying to pantomime. “It’s a little mouse with a Santa hat.”

He arched a brow, looking at her like she was nuts. “A mouse with a Santa hat? Is that… that a Vermont thing, or…?”

Karen laughed. “It’s a thing, I promise.”

“Alright, guess I’ll take your word for it.”

“Guess you will,” she retorted, feeling warm again, but this time it wasn’t from the alcohol. “Did you have a favorite ornament growing up?”

Frank sipped his beer and thought. “Not an ornament… but my mom, she had this set of nutcrackers. They all were characters from the play, you know? I loved the Toy Soldier one the best.”

Karen laughed softly and Frank chuckled, glancing at her.

“Yeah, I know, some kinda cliché bullshit, right? The Marine loving the solider one the best.” He smiled into his beer. “I always got in trouble for sneaking it up to my room to play with.”

“I used to steal my mother’s best outfits to play dress up in,” Karen admitted, smile still on her lips. “The expensive cocktail dresses she’d have to wear to company functions, her designer shoes, her pearls…”

“Uh oh… Y’didn’t lose those, did you?”

Karen shook her head. “No, no, but I’d hide them under my bed and my mom would get so mad.” She laughed at the memory. “She’d ban me from her closet but the second she was out of the house…”

“Went right back, didn’t you?”

“Oh yeah.” She nodded, grinning at him.

“Seems like you’ve always been a tenacious one, huh?”

Karen lifted her chin with pride. “Since day one.”

“Atta girl.”

They stayed like that, chatting easily long into the night. Karen even got to tease him about how he was letting his hair grow long again, calling him ‘hipster’ a couple of times just to see him smile. Frank held onto his long-empty beer bottle, refusing to get off the couch for another, or to make her get him one. Soon Karen was drifting off mid-sentence (Frank’s or hers) and he started to excuse himself, telling her he shouldn’t have kept her up so late.

“Stay?” She asked without thinking. Her eyelids were half-down, but she would have sworn she saw genuine shock flash across his face. Straightening up a little, she decided to ask again. “Will you stay?”

He regarded her a moment, dark eyes catching the glow from the Christmas tree. “Not still mad at me, are ya?” He asked, tilting his head. “Don’t wanna wake up with my hand in a bowl of warm water or somethin’…”

Karen’s laugh exploded from her and she covered her mouth. “I’d never!” She said, still laughing. “Scouts honor.”

“You were a scout?”

“Um… no…?”

Chuckling, Frank shook his head. “Then that don’t mean much, does it?”

“I promise not to fuck with you in your sleep,” she said, as earnestly as she could. “So… will you?”

He was quiet, staring down at the empty bottle still in his hands. “Okay,” he said, nodding once.

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

***

Karen awoke with a start—the sound of metal banging being too similar to the sounds from her nightmares. Blinking rapidly, she glanced around her room, remembering where she was.

She rolled onto her side, stretching as she stared out into the living room. Details from the night before started filtering back, just as another metal bang sound made her jump.

Quickly rolling out of bed, she hurried into the kitchen, bare feet instantly freezing on the cold linoleum.

“Frank?” She called, voice rough from sleep.

Standing up from where he was crouched, Frank turned to face her, holding a frying pan. “Hey, mornin’,” he said. “Didn’t mean to wake you. I was gonna get breakfast going for you and then I knocked over the leaning tower of Pisa you got in that cabinet.” He pointed with the end of the pan.

Karen flashed a tired smile. “Oh, yeah… Been meaning to reorganize.” She finger-combed her hair back from her face. “Coffee?”

“Already made.”

She cast him another look, noticing he’d rid himself of his jacket and hoodie, and was only in a black henly and his jeans and boots. Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, she got a mug from her cupboard and poured herself a cup of coffee.

“You want some?”

Frank’s answer was to lift his own mug—one she hadn’t noticed—and quietly grunt. It made Karen grin.

“So what’s on the menu this morning?” She asked, leaning against the counter to watch him dice a bell pepper.

“You had a bunch of vegetables that needed to be eaten,” he said, gesturing to the selection next to the cutting board. “What, you go to the store just to buy stuff to let it rot?”

Karen pulled her mug away from her lips. “I’m busy, Frank, I don’t always have time to cook.”

“Hm. Seems to reason you shouldn’t buy food you don’t have time to cook then.”

“Seriously?”

He sniffed. “Just a waste, is all.”

“Someone woke up on the lecture-y side of the bed this morning.”

“Sofa. And… sorry.” He glanced over his shoulder. “I think I’ve been around David too long.”

She sipped her coffee and smirked. “You didn’t happen to pick up any computer smarts did you? ‘Cause my laptop has been a little glitchy.”

Frank shook his head and she caught the corner of a smile. “Nope. You’re on your own.”

“Damn.”

“How’s an omelet with spicy sausage sound?”

Karen nodded, stomach already growling. “Sounds perfect.”

Frank gestured towards the lone barstool by her kitchen island. “Have a seat, it’ll be done shortly.”

“I didn’t know you could cook,” she said, watching him as she sat down.

“I’m a man of many talents, Miss Page,” he told her, graveled voice surprisingly sweeter. “I can also sew.”

“Fabric or flesh?”

“Both.”

Karen chuckled into her coffee.

“You sleep alright?” He asked, scraping the vegetables into the frying pan.

Flattening her lips into a line, Karen hummed a ‘yes’. It was the best she could do to deflect. She wasn’t sure she was ready to tell anyone—let alone Frank—about her nightmares.

“You?” She asked quickly.

“I’ve been sleepin’ on a cot about as thin as a sheet of paper for the last few months. Your couch was a cloud compared to that.”

“I’ll have to leave a review on IKEA’s website then. ‘Better than a basement cot’.”

Frank chuckled, turning the heat up on the pan and adding salt. An amenable silence enveloped the room, with Karen sipping her coffee while Frank cooked. Occasionally they’d catch each other’s eye and duck their heads, almost blushing.

It felt strange having Frank in her space, being so surprisingly domestic with a KBAR still strapped to his belt. But it was a strangeness Karen found herself wanting to get used to. Wanting more of.

“It’s Christmas Eve,” she announced, breaking the silence. “Got any plans?”

She realized how ridiculous that question must have been, as if she expected previously-assumed-dead-Frank-Castle to turn around and tell her he was going to a Christmas party.

“Nope,” Frank said, graciously sparing her a sarcastic glance. “You?”

“Ellison gave me 4 days off from the paper,” she said, distracting herself with one of the shopping mailers she’d gotten with her stack of junk mail. “I was thinking of attempting a real Christmas dinner for myself. I make a mean Thai curry.”

“Thai food?” Frank looked over his shoulder at her, halting his sautéing. “How the hell is Thai food Christmas-y?”

“It can be,” she retorted, hands cupping her warm mug. “If it’s food you eat on Christmas, then it’s Christmas food.”

“That’s not how that works.”

“Oh no?”

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “Ya gotta have the real deal stuff. The… the ham, sweet potatoes, green bean casserole, that nasty-ass cranberry jelly from a can—”

“I actually like that stuff.”

“’Course you do,” he said, looking over his shoulder again and smirking. It made Karen’s stomach tremble.

Or maybe that was the 2 cups of coffee on an empty stomach.

“Well I can’t make all that just for me,” she told him primly. “It would be a waste.” She arched an eyebrow at him when he turned to look at her again. Two can play that game.

She wondered if he’d catch her double meaning. She couldn’t make all that food for just her… but if he stayed…

“What about the suit?” Frank asked, cracking a couple eggs into a bowl to scramble.

“Foggy’s working and then spending Christmas day with his girlfriend—”

“Suit’s gotta girl, huh? Good for him.”

“Marci. She’s… Well, Foggy likes her, so…”

Frank chuckled, a sound Karen still wasn’t used to hearing. “Not a fan, I take it.”

“As long as Foggy doesn’t ask me to be her new BFF, we’ll be fine.” Karen hopped up for her third cup of coffee, and found Frank there, a little too close too quickly.

His large hand covered the top of her mug. “Need somethin’ more than just that,” he said, graveled voice even lower. “Here.” He handed her a water glass and nodded to the sink.

Karen flattened her lips in a line. “Didn’t realize I needed a babysitter.”

“Gonna make yourself sick, all the coffee on an empty stomach.”

“Well maybe if someone hurried up with the food…”

Frank pegged her with an unyielding stare. “Indulge me. One glass of water.”

Karen’s shoulders stiffened but she took the water glass. “Fine.”

“Fine.”

She filled it in tense silence and chugged it down. Walking back over to where he stood, she made it a point to turn the glass upside down on the counter next to him before grabbing the handle of the coffee pot and pouring herself more.

Frank shook his head. “More stubborn than a mule,” he muttered, barely audible but Karen still heard it.

“Pot, meet kettle.”

He grunted, flipping the omelet in the pan.

Karen returned to her seat, aimlessly looking over the holiday sale ads as she drank her coffee defiantly.

A plate of food appeared under her chin and she lifted her head.

“Bon Appetite,” Frank said, holding out a fork for her.

“Thanks—Wait, where’s yours?”

“Not hungry,” he said, wiping his hands on a dish towel.

She thought he’d sit with her, but he walked around the kitchen island and into the living room, grabbing his jacket off the back of the couch. Karen watched, her stomach dropping. She’d run him off already, she’d irritated him into leaving, she’d—

“Where… where are you going?” Her voice sounded small, even to her own ears.

“Told you, y’can’t have Thai food for Christmas dinner. Just ain’t right,” Frank called, yanking his jacket on. “Bet if I hurry I can find a decent spread for us, even if it’s all picked over.”

Karen blinked. “You… So you’re…” She swallowed thickly.

“Be back in a little while, yeah?” He held her gaze for a moment before offering a smile. Jerking his chin at the plate, he added, “Better eat before it’s cold.”

Relief flooded her system as she nodded weakly. “Okay.”

“Don’t go anywhere,” he said as he headed for the door. “Hate to have to pick your lock with an arm full of groceries.”

Karen laughed, and he glanced over his shoulder just before closing the door behind him.

***

She heard him come back in as she was getting dressed after her shower. Heavy boots and the rustling of bags, a grunt as he nudged the door closed. She scurried to close her bedroom door, a towel being the only thing covering her. It probably wouldn’t have been in either of their best interests if she accidentally flashed him before noon.

“Be right out,” she called, seeing his silhouette move into the kitchen.

“Take your time.”

Quickly digging out a pair of leggings and an oversized cream-colored sweater, she scrambled to find a pair of underwear that wasn’t terribly lacy… Laundry day was fast approaching if all she could find were her ‘date night’ panties.

She dug through her drawer, suddenly and intensely aware of the man moving around her apartment.

Jesus Karen, get it together, she thought, grabbing her last plain black pair and a bra and pulling them on.

“You got a package,” Frank called, making her jump.

Frowning, Karen looked at the door as she finished dressing. “Huh?”

“Left by your mailbox, so I brought it up.” She listened to him pace across the living room. “Not very big…”

She opened her door, working a comb through her hair. “Does it say who it’s from?”

Frank shook his head, holding the box out for her. His eyes drifted down to where she brushed her damp hair, but his expression was neutral.

“Thanks,” she said, taking it and going to the couch to sit. “So, I see you were able to get more than just a couple cans of beef and bean soup, huh?”

“Yeah, didn’t make out too shabby.” Frank wandered back to the kitchen to continue unloading. “Even found a decent sized ham to bake.”

“Ooh, with brown sugar?”

He grunted a ‘yes’ and she smiled softly, folding her legs under her. Looking down at the box in her lap, she stopped, fingers trailing over the familiar lettering.

“Need scissors?”

She didn’t answer, hardly heard him if she was honest. She was too busy deciding if she even wanted to open it.

“Karen?”

“Hm?”

Frank was a little closer, holding a can of green beans, brow furrowing as he watched her. “What is it?”

“Oh… uh,” she faltered, glancing down at the box. “It’s… nothing.” She set the box aside on her coffee table. “So are you one of those ‘no one is allowed in the kitchen to help’ kinda cooks or is there room for two in there?”

“Why didn’t you open your package?” He asked, completely blowing passed her attempt to change the topic.

Karen bit her lip, shaking her head. “Don’t worry about it.”

Frank’s jaw ticked as he stared at her. He set the can on the counter and strode into the living room, sitting on the arm of her reading chair. He was staring her down, waiting for her to crack under the weight of his dark gaze.

“Really?” She scoffed. “It’s nothing, Frank, just drop it.”

She stood up, about to walk into the kitchen, when Frank grabbed her wrist. It was the first time he’d touched her since… Since the elevator.

Karen’s head whipped around, glare hot. “Frank.”

His only response was to lock eyes with her, thumb over her pulse point.

They stayed like that for what felt like ages until Karen yielded.

“It’s from my dad. And I don’t want to open it right now, nor do I want to talk about it, okay?” She looked to where Frank’s hand was still wrapped around her wrist. “Is that answer satisfactory enough for you?”

Frank’s jaw ticked again but his gaze was softer. After a beat, he released her, and her skin was troublingly cold from the lack of touch. Karen didn’t waste any time walking away from him, but Frank didn’t move from his perch on the chair.

She got herself a glass of water just to busy herself, and stood at the sink to drink it.

“You… you can, y’know…” Frank said, voice deep and raspy. “Talk about it, I mean. If… if you want.”

Karen swallowed the last of her water and smacked her lips. “Nope.”

Sighing, Frank nodded once before standing up. “Alright.” It was barely loud enough to hear over the clink of her glass in the sink.

He went around the kitchen island, picking the can of green beans up. “Ya got any objections to slivered almonds?”

Karen turned, frowning at him. “Huh?”

“On the green beans,” he said, rolling the can in his palm. “Only way I really know how to make ‘em.”

The knot that was tightening in her chest loosened enough for Karen to breathe. The topic of her father was dropped… for now.

“No, not at all.” She shook her head. “You want some help?”

“Nah, I got it,” he said, pulling out all her pots and pans from her cabinets. “How about you play bartender though.”

Karen arched a brow, smirk playing at her lips. “Do what now?”

“Can’t have Christmas Eve dinner without a little holiday cheer,” he said, tone lighter. “Check that bag over there.” He nodded to the paper bag he hadn’t unpacked.

Karen grinned as she pulled out two bottles of wine—one red, one white—and a fifth of top shelf whiskey.

Lining them up on the counter, she said, “Merry Christmas indeed.”

***

Frank Castle was a fucking lightweight.

One glass of wine had him pink at the tips of his ears and apples of his cheeks. Two and he was smiling a lot easier, laughing a fraction louder, fine motor function not nearly as finessed.

Karen covered her mouth, suppressing a giggle as she watched him cook.

“That’s some strong shit,” he muttered, looking into his glass after another sip.

“You sure you don’t wanna eat something?”

“We’re gonna eat soon.”

“You gonna make it to ‘soon’?”

“I can hold my liquor, Karen.”

Smirking, she sipped her wine. “If you say so…”

She decided not to comment when she saw him nibble on the carrots he was cooking on the stove.

It was only three o’clock in the afternoon and they were both buzzed. Now this was a Christmas tradition Karen could get behind.

“We need some different music,” she said, jumping up from her bar stool to go pick a new Spotify station. She changed it from non-descript Christmas classics to a Rock Christmas station, in need of something with more pep.

“Y’really listen to this?” Frank asked, scrunching his nose as he tasted the sauce for the ham.

“Sure,” she said, turning. “And you don’t?”

“Can’t say I’ve listened to much of anything the last few months.”

The comment made her sad for reasons she wasn’t sober enough to really put together.

They chatted a little as he checked on the multiple dishes he had in the oven and as Frank drained his wine glass. She’d never thought she’d ever see Frank get tipsy… But then again, she never thought she’d be friends with the Punisher, of all people. Or having him cook her Christmas dinner. It was a holiday full of surprises.

The opening bars of Bruce Springsteen’s “Santa Claus is Coming to Town” filtered through her computer speakers and Karen smiled. It was one of her favorites. She glanced up to see Frank bobbing his head a little as he stirred the carrots.

“Fan of the Boss, huh?” She asked, grinning.

“Who isn’t?”

She saw the shift immediately. Frank’s shoulders going rigid, his back straightening, hand gripping the wooden spoon like a vice.

Incoherent mumbling got a little louder. “Can… can you turn that off?”

“What?”

“Turn it—turn it off? Or change… Just change the station?”

Karen frowned. “I thought—”

“Ple-please, Karen?” He didn’t turn around. He didn’t need to for her to know the tormented look in his eyes.

As quick as her inebriated fingers would allow, she turned the volume down and changed it back to some jazzy Christmas station. She stood there, leaning on the table, running her fingers through her hair as she exhaled slowly. Her heart was racing, like she’d just kicked a grenade away from them.

Maybe she had…

She waited until she could breathe normally before going back to her seat at the island, clutching her wine glass by the stem.

“My… my wife…” Frank faltered, clearing his throat. “Maria, she… For my birthday, she got us Springsteen tickets.”

Karen didn’t dare move an inch or make a sound.

“’Sposed to go the week after I got back,” he murmured, keeping his back to Karen. “We, uh… That didn’t…” He shook his head.

He didn’t need to finish. Karen knew.

She knew too well.

“I’m sorry, Frank,” she whispered.

He nodded jerkily, stirring the pot.

They listened to the new station—a little too much Michael Buble for Karen’s taste—in relative quiet.

Finally, Frank turned to face her. “I have a confession to make.”

Karen’s eyes widened.

“I can’t bake worth a damn,” Frank said. “So I bought the pie.”

Karen had to bite the inside of her cheek so she wouldn’t laugh. “I think I can forgive that.”

“Alright then.” The corner of his mouth twitched, and she felt a swell of relief in her chest.

Some memories of Maria Frank welcomed, and some tore him asunder, bringing his very being to a screeching halt. Karen understood that implicitly. And she was more than willing to bear witness to both-- to listen or to change the station.

It was the least she could do, Karen felt.

***

“You didn’t!”

“All over the house,” Karen laughed, fork bumping her plate. “I thought my mother was going to have a heart attack.”

“Who was watching you?” Frank leaned on his forearm, eyes sparkling. “Was anyone watching you?”

“The babysitter was trying to get my brother to stop coloring on the walls.”

“You were terrors, both of you,” Frank told her, shaking his head and grinning.

“I thought it would be funny!”

“Cutting a hole in the flour bag and tying it to the dog is not funny, trust me.”

“It was a little funny,” Karen giggled, sipping her wine. “Besides I was 5!”

Frank took a bite of ham and shook his head again. “Poor Sparky…”

“I think he was more upset he had to have 2 baths just to get all the flour out of his fur.” Karen speared a carrot and gestured to Frank with it. “Alright, your turn. Worst childhood antic.”

“Oh man…” He chuckled, setting his utensils down and rubbing his right hand over his left fist. “Uh… Let’s see…” Tilting his head, he considered her a moment before nodding. “Alright. The time I filled the washer with bubble bath instead of laundry detergent.”

Karen nearly choked on her food. “Oh god!”

“I was trying to help,” he said, grin splitting his face apart. “I didn’t know they were different. Soap is soap, right?”

“No, no they’re not,” Karen shook her head and giggled.

“Yeah, well, I figured that out pretty damn quick.” He hid his face a little with his hands. “The laundry room is filling with bubbles and I’m, shit, I’m freakin’ out, right? I’m 8, standing there in wet socks and slippery from all the soap, and I’m about 3 seconds from losin’ my shit, and that’s when my mom comes in the house.”

“Uh oh…”

Frank shook his head, leaning back in his chair. “Ma… She walks in, hears the machine going berserk, calls for me, and when she comes around the corner and sees the gigantic mess I’ve made she…” He chuckles, hands falling to the tops of his thighs. “She just bursts out laughing.”

“What?”

“She’s doubled over, she’s cracking up so hard. And I’m standing there—probably with bubbles comin’ outta my ears—and I just…” He ducks his head, still grinning but obviously a little embarrassed. “I just start wailing.”

Karen covered her mouth, her ‘aww’ still very much audible.

“I… I guess I was just so overwhelmed, I just had a meltdown. And Ma, she just laughed even harder.”

“You poor thing.”

“She said I looked like the angriest bubble monster,” Frank commented, picking up his wine. “Looking back… I don’t—I can’t even remember half of it, or how we got it all cleaned up. But I swear, to this day, I remember the feeling of wet socks and soap bubbles up to my little bare arms.”

“Your mom wasn’t angry?”

Frank shook his head, swallowing the last of the wine in his glass. “Nah, she was… She took things in stride, ya know? A little bubble bath in the machine wasn’t gonna upend her.”

“And you were trying to help…” Karen added, smiling over her glass.

Mumbling in agreement, Frank tucked his chin. “I didn’t touch that washer again until high school.”

Karen laughed, enjoying how easy it was to laugh now. Sure, the wine helped, but it was more than that. It felt important to laugh with Frank. To embrace the goodness, the levity, because they both knew that things could change in an instant. And that they most likely would.

“You liked the yams?” Frank asked, nodding to Karen’s plate.

She looked down to the clearly vacant section. “They were amazing.”

“There’s more,” he murmured.

“We have to have left overs for tomorrow,” she countered.

“Ah, right,” Frank said, lifting his head. “You save room for pie?”

“There’s always room for pie.”

“Atta girl.”

Their knees bumped as he got up from the table to fetch the store-bought pumpkin pie, and at the same time the legs of his chair scraped sharply on the linoleum. She tried to hide it, but Karen flinched. Hard.

Frank hesitated at her shoulder, holding both of their empty plates, but Karen couldn’t bring herself to look up at him. She tilted her face away, pretending to stare at the Christmas tree, until he huffed and walked into the kitchen.

The plates clattered in the sink and she jumped again, but that time she was pretty sure he didn’t see.

Her skin crawled, sensing the impending questions about to pour from Frank’s mouth, and she dodged with all the agility of a scared rabbit.

“You want coffee with your pie?” She asked, already standing and making her way to the coffee maker.

Frank turned from where he was cutting a thick slice and watched her a moment before humming in agreement. As he finished serving, she made them a pot and leaned against the counter, listening to the gurgling noises.

“We should watch a movie or something,” she told him as he handed her a dessert plate. “You got a favorite?”

Frank shook his head, fork already diving into the hunk of orange. “Pick whatever you want,” he mumbled around the food in his mouth.

Biting her lip, Karen wandered into her living room, grabbing the remote from the coffee table and turning the tv on. She channel-surfed for a minute before finding A Christmas Story on a cable channel, already about 10 minutes in.

“This okay?” She asked without looking at him.

Frank grunted what sounded close to a ‘yes’, and plopped himself down on the end of the sofa. Going back for coffee for the two of them, Karen came back and handed out a mug to Frank.

“Thank you, ma’am,” he said, taking it from her.

Karen laughed softly at the title. “No need to be formal, Frank,” she said, curling up on her end of the couch. “You’ve seen me in my PJs now. We’re beyond ‘ma’am’.”

“Dunno about that,” he said, smirking as he took another bite. “Decaf?”

She shook her head, watching the television. “Regular.”

Frank’s silence felt heavy, but she didn’t react, didn’t comment. She stared so hard at Ralphie’s face on her screen she was certain she’d memorize every freckle the kid had. She would not budge.

Karen finished her pie and took their plates to the kitchen and refilled her coffee. She offered to do the same for Frank, but he declined.

“You plannin’ on stayin’ up to see Santa?” He asked after her second cup.

She pulled her mug away from her lips. “Huh?”

“Gonna be up all night drinkin’ that,” he commented, nodding to her coffee.

“Says the guy who lived on the stuff.”

His response was a quiet hum followed by turning to stare at the tv once more, dropping the topic. They watched the movie, chuckling lightly and steadily relaxing back into the way they’d been during dinner.

When Karen shivered slightly, Frank pulled the throw off the back of the sofa and unfolded it, tossing it over her knees without a word. She whispered a thank-you, tugging it higher around her waist and leaning back against the cushions.

A Christmas Story ended, and Karen found them another to watch—Frank vetoed Miracle on 34th Street so she put it on Elf.

“Never seen this one,” Frank commented, threading his fingers together behind his head, spreading his elbows wide.

“What? You’ve never seen Elf?”

“I was a little busy, Karen,” he retorted, rolling his eyes. “Didn’t have time to see every bad movie—”

“Okay well that’s your first mistake there,” she cut in. “Elf is not bad. It’s a classic.”

“That right?”

“Mm-hm,” she nodded, propping her head up on a pillow. “Just watch, you’ll see.”

Despite chugging nearly a full pot of coffee, Karen’s eyelids drooped and she caught herself drifting off to sleep during several scenes. She blinked, glancing over at Frank, but he didn’t seem to notice. Either that or he was purposefully keeping his comments to himself.

Just before Buddy saved Santa’s sleigh, Karen fell asleep with her head at an awkward angle and the throw blanket bunched around her.

In those few moments though, the noise came back—screeching, exploding metal. People yelling. The taste of blood in her mouth.

Different memories, different events, all patchworking together.

She jerked awake, bolting up from the pillow and ramming her foot into the coffee table.

“Shit,” she cursed, bending to rub the soreness.

Frank was next to her again, too close, too suddenly. His hand was on the middle of her back, the heat and weight of it grounding her.

“Hey, hey, you alright?” His voice was soft, a little smoother like cigar smoke.

She nodded, wincing. “Fine. Just… clumsy.”

“You want some ice?”

“No, no, I’m okay,” she told him. “Promise.”

She caught his slight nod from the corner of her eye and offered him a smile. “See? All better,” she said, leaning back.

He grunted, but didn’t say much else, and they continued to watch the end of the movie. The next one up was A Charlie Brown Christmas, and even Frank nodded off during that one a couple of times. He blamed the music—too mellow.

Karen glanced over at the clock and sighed. 2am.

“Guess Santa skipped us this year,” she joked.

“I’m shocked,” Frank murmured, voice rough from exhaustion. “I’ve been a very good boy.”

Karen laughed, and he tilted his head to look at her, grinning slightly.

Reluctantly, she withdrew from the blanket and stood up. “I guess I’ll let you get some sleep,” she told him, dropping the throw back on the cushions.

“Karen…”

“G’night Frank,” she said, avoiding the topic once again.

His voice was quiet as he said, “Merry Christmas, Karen,” just before she closed her bedroom door.

***

Karen rolled onto her side, staring at the sliver of dawn outside her bedroom window.

She slept—she was sure she had—but given how her whole body ached, how unbelievably exhausted she still felt, she didn’t think it was very good sleep.

The nightmares still plagued her. They were a constant now, just something to accept. Taxes and death and all that.

She watched as the faint blue light turned pink, then orange, then yellow.

“Merry Christmas,” she whispered to herself, hugging a pillow to her chest.

Through her door she heard the shower turn on and the clinking from the rod as the curtain moved. She thought about going out, asking Frank if he needed anything, getting him a couple towels and a wash cloth, but she realized he’d probably found all of that already if he was turning on the water.

She opted for 5 more minutes in bed followed by getting up to make coffee strong enough to strip paint. She didn’t think Frank would complain.

Karen was on her second cup when Frank came out of the bathroom, redressed and toweling his hair dry.

“Mornin’,” he said as soon as he saw her. “Hope you don’t mind, I—”

“No, no, not at all,” she told him. “I should have offered. You’re welcome to anything here.”

The small smile threatening to curve his lips made Karen blush and duck her head.

“Do you… need any extra clothes or anything?” She asked. “Not that I have a lot of men’s clothing lying around… And I don’t think yoga pants are really your style.”

Frank’s chuckle was deep, a little rough still from sleep. “I had a change of clothes in my pack.”

“Sure, right.” She nodded, lifting her mug. “I, uh, I made coffee.”

He glanced passed her to the coffee maker. “Smells strong.”

“It is.” She smiled but even to her it felt sharp.

Folding the towel in his hands, Frank wandered over to pour a cup. Something was different between them… Her stomach had taken to trembling when he looked at her. He was smiling more frequently. Her hands shook slightly when he was close. His gaze was warmer, softer. She didn’t quite feel comfortable in her own body, like she was a teenager again.

Inhaling deeply, she gulped her coffee and forced herself to remain still and calm, and to get a grip.

“Breakfast?”

His voice brought her head around. “Hm—uh, yeah.” She nodded so fast her neck popped. “Whatever you want.”

“Want me to do something with these left overs?”

“Those are for later,” she told him, reaching to playfully swat him away from the Tupperware containers. Frank chuckled and tilted his head.

“Alright, alright, eggs it is,” he said, pulling the carton from the shelf.

They fell into their familiar routine—Frank acting as chef while Karen sat on one of her stools, flipping through the paper and drinking coffee.

“You sure are giving my stove a work out,” Karen commented, reading the last bit of an article. “It hasn’t been used this much since I moved in.”

“That’s just depressing.”

Karen snorted. “You eat MREs and cold cuts, you can’t judge me.”

“I had an excuse,” Frank said, glancing over his shoulder. “But you?”

Looking up, she pegged him with a stare and rolled her eyes. That got him to laugh, which was worth the antagonizing.

“Merry Christmas, by the way,” he told her as he flipped the eggs in the pan.

She smiled. “Merry Christmas.”

“Did… d’ya sleep alright?” He asked, poking the food with the spatula.

Karen took a sip of coffee and hummed. “Fine. You?”

“Oh yeah, dreamt of sugar plums and all that shit.”

Her laugh caught her by surprise. Covering her mouth, she muffled herself.

Frank turned, carrying a plate of fried eggs and toast. “Don’t on my account.”

“Huh?”

“Been in a basement with a neurotic spook for months,” he started. “Hearing someone’s… Hearing you laugh is… it’s nice.” He faltered as he handed her the food. “Feels nice. Normal.”

The confession slammed between her ribs, nestling in tight.

“Oh,” was all she could say before he turned away to get his own food.

They were quiet for a long while, eating and drinking their coffee, occasionally turning to look at the Christmas tree or skim sections of the paper.

“I forgot this part,” Frank murmured from behind his mug. “Christmas morning…”

Karen’s chest ached as images of what Frank’s old life must have been like, how Christmas must have been for him, with Lisa and Frank Jr, flooded her mind.

“I… I didn’t get a lot of them… With the kids. Y’know?” He sniffed, nose scrunching before he took another sip of coffee. “Deployments. Training. Lisa’s first Christmas… I was in a tent in the desert. Got pictures though. Lots of pictures. When… when Frankie was, God, 4? 5? We, uh… We did it up right. Full blown Hallmark Christmas. Big tree, family came over. We… There was tons of food, and…” He chuckled to himself. “So much fuckin’ wrapping paper you couldn’t see the carpet underneath.”

Karen had gotten accustomed to his reminiscences tumbling out, a little broken, a little messy, stalled in parts, faded and unsure in others, but still very Frank. Each word curled up in her lap, held there to be cherished by someone else who understood.

“Did… did you have a favorite Christmas tradition?” She asked softly, not wanting to push. His memory was like fractured glass—if you pressed the wrong spot, it all came crashing down.

Frank glanced into his mug. “I was hopin’ you’d indulge me a little,” he said quietly. “Tell me somethin’ about yours? You have a favorite?”

“As a kid?”

He shrugged, muscled shoulders shifting under black fabric. “Sure.”

Karen leaned forward on her elbows. “Well… We’d usually go to my Grandmother’s,” she started. “She lived outside of Burlington, so we’d all pile in the car and drive down to see her. And my mom would always fight with the radio to get a good Christmas music station, even though we had CDs.” She smiled, moving her hands as she talked. “We’d get there, and it was just like out of a Thomas Kinkade painting, you know? Wintry and the windows all lit up, wreaths on the doors, and you could see the tree from the street.”

She glanced at him and laughed to herself. “Probably sounds cliché, right?”

Frank shook his head. “Nah, it sounds nice.”

“It was,” she agreed, nodding. Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, she continued. “There were presents all over the living room, but we had to wait until after we ate to open them. It was torture.”

“D’you do the Santa thing? Opening gifts in your PJs?”

“We always had Santa and stockings at our house,” she said. “Mom would make waffles while we tore into our new toys.”

Frank nodded, seeming to enjoy her story. But he watched her like he was waiting for something, searching for something between her words.

Karen kept talking-- describing her family Christmases, her cousins running around making a mess, building snowmen while the adults finished cooking, taking their Santa-delivered toys out to play…

“Who’s ‘we’?” Frank asked, cutting in on her last sentence.

“Oh, uh, me and my cousins, and my brother.” She punctuated it with a long swallow of coffee.

“Did your dad cook?” Frank asked, catching her off guard. “He in the kitchen or was someone out there watchin’ you?”

Karen struggled to laugh through her bewilderment. “We were old enough to play by ourselves,” she said, getting up for more coffee. “It was Vermont. Unless there was a moose nearby, we were safe.”

Frank grunted, clearly feeling the urge to judge. Overprotective to a fault. Karen smiled as she brought the coffee pot over and topped him off.

“It was a nice way to spend Christmas. I… I miss it sometimes,” she told him. “But I love holidays here too.”

“Amid the garbage and the slush, huh?” Frank arched an eyebrow, teasing her.

“It’s not all bad.” Karen sat down, facing him fully. “There’s Rockefeller center—”

“Tourist trap.”

“And Central Park—”

“Crowded.”

“And all the stores and their window displays.”

He hummed. “Yeah, alright. Those are kinda nice.”

“So you agree.”

The curve of his lip over his coffee cup made Karen want to giggle. She felt buzzed and she was stone cold sober.

After a moment, Frank’s gaze darted over her shoulder to the Christmas tree. “Y’gunna open your gifts?”

“Don’t have any.”

“Says who?”

Karen frowned at him. “What are you…?” She twisted, looking behind her. She couldn’t see anything from where she sat, so she stood up, wandering over to the living room. Under the tree was a lone wrapped present—green paper and red ribbon shining under the twinkle lights. Karen blinked.

“Frank…” she whispered, emotion building in her throat.

“It’s not much,” he said. “Just something to… to say thanks.”

“Thanks? For… what?”

He was silent as he watched her pick up the gift. She shook the box gently, hearing the contents rattle.

“I didn’t get you anything,” she said it a little teasingly, but the beginnings of guilt churned in her stomach.

Frank shook his head. “Nah, don’t need anything. Shit, you kept me from sleepin’ in a rathole apartment for a few nights. That’s gift enough.”

Glancing down at the tag— her name written in his tight, neat script—she took a breath.

“Go on,” he urged. “Open it.”

Sitting on the edge of the couch, she balanced the box on her knees, pulling the ribbon off and tearing at the paper. She read part of the label printed on the cardboard and her brows shot up in delighted surprise.

“You got me bullets?” She laughed, looking up.

Standing, Frank started towards her. “Figured you’ve been going to the range a lot—your aim is too good to say you don’t practice.”

“I practice,” she confirmed with pride.

“Thought maybe I’d get you something to help practice with.”

Smiling, she finished unwrapping the box and opened the lid, finger running over the shells. “No one else would ever think to get me ammunition for Christmas.”

“Glad I’m not someone else then,” he told her, tucking his hand in his pocket and sipping his coffee.

“Me too.” She said it quickly, earnestly, and with enough warmth to heat up her own cheeks.

Frank took a few more steps into the living room, hovering near the end of the sofa. “You… you gonna open your other one?”

“You got me something else?”

He shook his head. “Meant the one from yesterday.” He paused, waiting for her to catch on. “Said it was from your dad…”

Karen’s face fell. “Oh. No, I’m not.”

“Karen…”

“I don’t want to open it, Frank.” She stood up, placing the box of bullets on her coffee table and going to brush passed him.

“Why?” Frank tracked her. “Hey, hey, talk to me. Why--?”

“Because I already know what it is,” she snapped, pegging him with a hard stare. “I already know, and I don’t want to be upset on Christmas, so…” Pushing her hair out of her face, she turned to walk away.

“What’s the deal with your dad, huh?” He asked, tilting his head, eyeing her. “Does he… Is he bothering you? Did… Karen, did he do something to you?”

So much was implied in the question, she didn’t know where to start, and her frustration came out as a bitter barking laugh.

“Depends on what you mean.”

Frank was eerily quiet, watching her. The violent urges always simmering under Frank’s surface began to bleed into his features, the rims of his irises, morphing him into The Punisher right in front of her.

“No, Frank. He didn’t do something to me… not like you’re thinking.” She fully exhaled with relief as his darkness faded, Frank coming back little by little.

“Then what? What’s the deal?” He asked, jaw working.

She planted her hands on her hips. “Why are you so concerned about this, Frank?”

“Because…” He mumbled incoherently for a moment before clearing his throat and saying louder, “I don’t… I don’t like seeing you upset.”

She didn’t mean to scoff, but the harsh sound erupted from her anyway. “Since when?”

“Excuse me?”

“You know what, this has nothing to do with me being upset.” She gestured to him, emphasizing her words. “You just don’t like not knowing something—It’s driving you nuts that I’m keeping something from you, so you’re trying every tactic you can to get me to spill my guts.” She shook her head, anger beginning to boil. “This isn’t empathy, it’s an interrogation.”

“Hey, that’s not—Look, I am concerned, okay? Don’t tell me I’m not—”

“Then why does it have to be on your schedule, Frank? Why can’t you just accept I’m not ready to talk about it?”

He set his mug down on the coffee table next to her box of bullets. “’Cause it has nothin’ to do with being ready—”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“C’mon, Karen, you really want me to say it?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Karen,” he said her name almost like he was chastising her. “C’mon… You— I mean, I’m not an expert but—”

She scowled at him. “Spit it out, Frank.”

“You… You’re not doing well, Karen.”

The laugh that erupted from her was like ice shattering on concrete.

“Oh, that’s fucking rich,” she snapped. “You’re lecturing me now, is that it?”

“’Course not,” Frank said, shaking his head. “You know I’m not, I’m—Look, this shit with your dad, whatever it is, it’s just one part, okay? What you went through… The hotel with Lewis… losing Murdock—”

“Don’t,” she warned sharply.

He didn’t even blink. “All the other shit you’ve gone through. You don’t have to carry all that alone.”

“Wow, a month of therapy and you’re Dr. Castle now, huh?”

She regretted it the moment she said it. Frank needed therapy, needed to connect with other people, needed to talk about his trauma. She was proud of him. But he had his calloused, unclean fingers pressed against a vein she was barely able to keep closed on a good day, and that pain had to go somewhere.

Frank’s lip curled, a little too vicious to be a sneer. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what, Frank?”

“This, this backbiting bullshit. This ain’t you.”

“Oh yeah?” She snapped. “And what if it is?”

He shook his head, starting to wave her off, when she grabbed him by the bicep, yanking him back.

“What if it is, Frank?” Wide blue eyes locked on his nearly obsidian gaze. “What if this is me now?”

“So you—You wanna spend your life runnin’ on coffee and no sleep, diggin’ that hole deeper for yourself?”

“Stop! Stop presuming to know me, Frank! You weren’t here, you don’t—”

“I watched you every night through that goddamn window, you think I didn’t see you??”

His admission brought Karen’s thoughts to a halt. “You… what?” She breathed.

Frank started to shake his head, looking to the floor. “I… nothing, I just…”

“Goddamn it Frank, for once just—”

“Alright, yeah,” he interrupted. “Yeah, okay, I watched you. I didn’t… It wasn’t like that. I just… I’d walk by every night, wait to see you in the widow, see that you were okay. For a while, you were… I dunno, it looked like you were okay. But then… That light stayed on longer. I’d see you still movin’ around. Sometimes you’d be up at 4am—”

Karen gaped, unsure if she should be horrified.

“You were putting out a story in every issue of the Bulletin. You were doing interviews. But you weren’t even fuckin’ sleeping,” he said, sandpapery voice an octave lower. “Then, I’m staying here, and I’m seeing… I mean, Jesus, the last 2 nights… all fuckin’ night you’re tossing and turning—”

“What?”

“You talk in your sleep, Karen, y’think I wouldn’t hear you? You’re 5 feet away.”

“I didn’t…” She released him, backing up half a step. “I didn’t know I…” Her hand went to her mouth, fingers trembling against her chin.

Frank took half a step forward. “Look, I’m… I’m not…” He exhaled sharply through his nose. “Just… Who’s Kevin?”

Karen’s breath caught in her throat so painfully tears welled in her eyes.

“Y-you kept saying his name, over and over, you were crying it…” Frank’s voice cracked. “Is he… He important to you?”

Hand clutching her mouth, she tried to suck down air and couldn’t. She stepped around Frank, trying to get some space, some footing, something.

“Hey, Karen… hey…”

She waved him off, still battling the sobs lodged in her windpipe.

“I can’t…” She mumbled finally, shaking her head. “I can’t talk about this right now.”

She spun, marching into her bedroom. Finding her sturdy boots and thick socks, she yanked them on before grabbing her winter coat off the hook near her door. When she emerged, Frank was standing there, looking at her with concerned bewilderment.

“Hey, hey, wait, hold on,” he started, trailing after her as she searched for her purse.

“I’m going for a walk.”

“Karen—”

“Stop it,” she nearly screamed. Two tears streamed down her face as she blinked up at him. “Leave me alone, Frank!”

“I… Just—Please, Karen…"

She shook her head. “I gotta go.”

She could hear him call her name again, but the slamming of her apartment door cut off the rest of his sentence entirely.

. . .

#Kastle fic #my writing #my fic #LET KAREN HAVE HER MOMENT 2K18 #Karen Page #Frank Castle #it might be Christmas time in this fic but the angst is REAL #Happy Holidays have some tears #gotta keep the heartbreaking holiday season going idc that it's Jan.6th #otp: ma'am #post-TPS

[sky-girls]

Beautiful,Magical,Lyrical

#lutteoficweek #lutteo #soy luna #mylfw

[crossfitkodiak]

Intensity & Familiarity: The Notion of Home

The notion of "home" has always been difficult for me to grasp. Folks tend to have something that they find to be familiar to them. I've always struggled with being familiar, with finding that feeling within... well, anything, to be honest. People are often skeptical when I say that, but I have debilitating social anxiety. I don't take to people quickly and it takes me an incredibly long time to begin to trust anyone. When I was a kid, I had a friend who lived across the street from me. I would spend most evenings at his house and before he moved away, we were inseparable. I didn't realize it at the time, but looking back, he wasn't safe there. His brother would smoke weed and give it to my friend. He would give him booze. We were maybe seven to nine years old. His father would drink constantly. On several occasions I saw my friends mother hit him. I was a kid. You don't process something as bad or out of the norm until you learn that it's either. I didn't realize for years that my mother never slapped me like that. I didn't put together for years that I had never seen an adult drink as heavily as his father did before. Now, I'm also not against people smoking pot, but we were eight and nine years old. You don't give drugs to kids that age (or you do, because you're an asshole). I tell people that I often times feel like an accident. Like, I was on the conveyer belt being pushed along in the process of being created and I somehow fell off of it early. I've been told that I'm a "people person," and I really don't know what that means. I don't know what that's like. Everything I know about people I've learned from just watching them, seeing how they interact and react to the world around them. Just seeing how humans do whatever it is that they do. Namely: how they live. I'm not sociable. I've just done my reading. Familiarity is a curious thing. The ways it can present itself to people. It can be with another person, place, memory, or... well, what feels familiar to you? Where do you go in your mind when you need solid ground and sure footing? I've never felt familiar with anything. There's always been a screen between me and the rest of the world, at least as my brain reads it, there always has been. I smile and am polite and tend to stay in my own lane as best I can. I try not to veer into anyone else's lane unless they invite me over. I know that reasonably a lot of this stems back to experiences during my upbringing. Getting beat up in bathrooms because you're quiet and overweight will leave it's mark for sure, but there's something else there too. It's not just my anxiety. It's not just my depression. Those are things I carry everyday, but I don't actively FEEL them everyday. They ebb and flow, just like everything else. I don't know what it is, I've just always felt far more inclined towards observation. That I'm just here to observe. Which is one of the reasons I think Coaching resonates with me as much as it does. I can observe and report back what I see, you don't have to explain it to me. I can actively see the flaw within the movement. I've never liked lectures, but I love presentations. Most people aren't entirely content to be alone and to be honest it's kind of weird at times. I'll occasionally realize that I've spent an entire day by myself, doing whatever comes to mind, and maybe even haven't spoken since I got up that morning. And I love it. I love being alone. I love spending time alone. It's a chance to recharge. It's a chance to assess the world I've seen and learn from it. But, you can't do that all the time, right? People are here and you have to see them eventually. My job requires that I spend large chunks of time with big groups of people. In fact, it requires that I be in-charge of these groups and lead them accordingly and safely. And I love it. It's the best job I've ever had and the only one I want to do. Despite all that, it can still be kind of odd to be any kind of figure to people when you feel like you're just meant to hangout in the background and watch life happen. That's what a Coach is; a figure. A lot of my job is comprised of listening to people that need someone to talk to. I can't count the number of times I've sat with a member while they just vented cried for a while. I can't always go to the parties I'm invited to and if I go to a bar (despite the fact that I don't drink), I can't wear a CrossFit shirt. People that are in a position to be in charge or have any kind of influence have to be careful about the way they present themselves. I care about my job and my career. I want to be successful in this field for a long time. If I had to name two things I feel familiar with, it would be my job and training. I don't know why and I feel bad that "people" isn't on that list, but it's just not. I already addressed the aspects of coaching I'm drawn to, but training is sort of a different animal. It's incredibly solitary, which drives me pretty hard. Even if you're in a class full of people, you're still performing the workout on your own. You still have to lift the bar, jump onto the Box, do the pull ups, or sprint to the finish. No matter how many people are in class with you, it's still on YOU to do the work. I think that any kind of physical training, or just using your body in general, feels familiar because it's what humans are made for, right? We're not made to be sedentary. We're not designed to sit around and do nothing. We're built to run, climb, push, pull, lift, breathe, and work. Maybe it sounds dramatic, but the feeling of being completely drained after a workout just feels normal. It carries that, "Okay, here we go. This is what we're built for," feeling with it. My buddy Matt is a fan of saying that I'm "just good at suffering." He's not wrong. I'm not very fast and I'm honestly not very strong for my size, but I'm just good at setting a "bleed from your eyeballs" pace and staying there for a while. For whatever reason, that discomfort feels familiar. It feels normal. It feels like the sort of thing a body is made to do. Hard work. That's what feels normal. When I was a kid, my friend never found it out of the ordinary or strange that he was given drugs and alcohol. He never found it odd that his mother slapped him. That was the environment he knew and had grown up in. It was familiar to him. You could go down a rabbit hole from here about why people go back to abuse and stay around toxicity for as long as they do, but it comes back to the same reason I love the suffering of a workout... It's familiar. If you grow comfortable with the world around you, it doesn't matter what that world is comprised of. It becomes the norm. It becomes something you know. I always tell people that change is fucking bonkers and it really is. Going from obese to in shape is fucking insane. Giving up toxic friendships and relationships is scary as hell. But why should it be? They're not kind to you. They don't treat you well. They demean and undermine you every step of the way. Why would this change be bad? Why is it so hard to pull away from? Familiarity. It's what you know. It's your world. That's why it's so easy on the opposite end to be like, "You really should stop seeing them," or, "Why do you spend time with them?" It's not your world. You haven't found that comfortable position in the mud pit that we have. Which is good. Stand clear. We don't want you getting dirty. That's why the idea of listening and attempting to understand and have empathy is so important. I tend to speak to my old friend every other year, not sure why, just sort of how it's panned out. He's never doing well. He's always struggling and clawing his way around. Trying. He's always trying. We always end up saying the same thing. We have to work harder. We have to work harder than before. We have to be better. Get better. More. More. More. Work. Constant and gnashing. I think that effort should be what looks back you in the mirror. I believe that pushing yourself, in whatever form that challenge takes for you, should be a daily practice. I never tell my friend that he needs to "grow up" or give him some lecture on why he's fucking up. He's human. It's within our nature. We stumble and trip and we're clumsy at times. We have a slip of the tongue or a blank moment that lasts a few seconds too long. I told one of my best friends today that I'm starting to have abs and that it's fucking with my mind. And I know how that sounds. "This motherfucker, complaining about being able to see his abs." Look, they're not cheese graters, but I can see them and that is very, very new to me. It's weird because it's not familiar. For so long my life was as someone that worked hard, but was never the state champion in Speech and Debate in high school. I stayed in my own lane, but people still fucked with me at bars and wanted to fight. I just wanted to relax and be like my friends, but they could all put the bottle down and I went through a long phase where I just couldn't let go of it. I've found that familiarity within the strangest place: physical effort. That physical push everyday. As a friend of mine put it recently, "You're so fucking weird, but in the best way possible." My dad swears I'm one of the most intense people he's ever met. To me, I'm just doing what humans should: giving myself entirely to something. I think about it a lot, honestly. I'm gonna die one day. I'm gonna stop breathing and knowing me, it's gonna hurt pretty damn bad. I want to know what it's like to give myself to something I love entirely. I want to know what it's like to chase something down like a junkyard dog and rip into it. I want that copper taste of blood in my mouth after a workout. I want the heaving, unable to catch my breath. I want the failed reps and the loud PR's. I think that my dad was right to the degree that humans have a certain amount of intensity hardwired into them. I think everyone has something that they'd be willing to hurt for. So, go find it. And it might mean leaving what's familiar. It might mean getting out of the world around you. That's what it took for me. I love CrossFit with every fiber of who I am and people can give me shit for being a fanboy all they want, I don't care. I watch the Games every year and I see people that have found that intensity that lives inside all of us and chased it down and haven't let go. I watching Powerlifting meets and see people with passion and drive, not "What's the point of being able to squat that?" Fuck you, what are you committed to? What do you love? What lights you on fire? The answer for most people is nothing. The large majority of people at the gym I coach at love to run. And I love watching them work. Endurance workouts are some of my favorite days to coach, because when a runner shows up, you can see that for a moment. You can see that push. I don't ever care if I run a half marathon. I don't ever care if I run a 50K trail race. But, I do, with every ounce of who I am, care about supporting those goals for others. I want people to find something and go for it. Fucking attack it. Fuck your mile time. Let's Deadlift. Fuck your Back Squat, let's go run. If you don't care about squatting 500lbs, then don't worry about it. Worry about your splits on this next interval. And if you don't care about your half marathon time, then come lift something heavy. Just find it. Whatever it is. You'll know when you do, because you won't give a shit what others think about it. I don't. I have goals and things I want to achieve. I have things I focus on. And I don't care what anyone has to say about it. That fire is yours. Extinguishers are not welcome here. --- I love spending time alone. I love lifting alone. I love watching others hit PR's and milestones, whether it be on a run or a lift. It's an incredible thing to witness, someone overcoming an obstacle that probably seemed daunting. Let others find what they love and then push them towards it. Give it everything you've got. Because they way I see it, I have one chance. And I have no intentions of fucking it up. --- Set your soul on fire. Set that suicide pace. Turn the knob up to eleven and hold on. Find home. Make your soul bleed for it. Burn it up. ----

[oddieodelia]

Forsaken: UK Shadowhunters Con Recap

Hi all! So I went to Forsaken this weekend, if you don’t know what that is, it was a Shadowhunters con in London with Maxim Roy (Jocelyn), Jon Cor (Hodge), Kaitlyn Leeb (Camille) and Joel Labelle (Alaric).

It was so much fun, and since it was their first con/they’re not the main cast it was so small, nice and chill. They were all so down to earth, humbled and overwhelmed that we came to see/speak to them. They each had two panels (one on each day) and a full guest panel, I’ve managed to write up most of what I can remember below. Obviously there’s a lot I haven’t captured, but highlights/best moments are under the cut!

A lot of things we discussed were personal/non-Shadowhunter related, if you just want to read the bits to do with the show, just read the bits that have been bolded.

Kaitlyn

Camille will not be appearing in 2b

We were meant to get a scene set in the 1800s when we saw the flashback photo of Camille/Magnus/Ragnor. The scene was meant to be at a ball, and Camille tells Magnus about her dalliance with that short lived Russian. However unfortunately due to budget constraints the scene got cut. 

Another scene that got cut: initially at the beginning we were meant to see a scene between Camille/Raphael that was all in French. As she doesn't speak French she spent a while learning the lines and the accent. She nailed it by the time they did the table read, but after that the scene got cut.

When discussing ships that would never work, she said Camille/Alec. We agreed that would only happen if she did an encanto on him. After discussing for a while Kaitlyn said that to get back at/hurt Magnus for sending her to Idris, when Camille breaks free she'll encanto Alec.

If Camille wasn't such a lying cheating bitch she believes Camille and Magnus could've had a future, because deep down they do and will always love eachother.

Kaitlyn has a few projects coming up: she's continuing with Heartland, a Netflix show coming up (Slasher 2 I think she said?), and another show that also stars Paulino Nunes.

Her favourite scene to shoot was the first scene with Simon and Raphael.

She loves her scenes with Magnus because she loves working with Harry. After Harry, her favourite person to work with is Alberto.

Hardest thing to shoot/skill she had to learn whilst being on Shadowhunters was learning to speak with fangs in her mouth. She was pretty bad at speaking, but at least she was better than David. David was awful at first. Trying to do anything (e.g. pouring the bloody marys) whilst she had the long nails was very difficult too.

Another hard thing to shoot was the graveyard scene. Avery was born 5 weeks prior and shooting went till about 7am. She was also wearing heels which isn't easy on grass/mud.

She initially auditioned for the role of Izzy. They then brought her back to audition for Camille, which she got after one audition.

If she could play anyone else in the show it would be Magnus because his character is amazing, but if she's talking about a character she could physically play (e.g. a female) it would be Izzy.

On who is the biggest mother hen on set? Kat. Not in a particularly maternal way, but she always makes everyone - especially new cast members - feel welcome and part of the Shadowhunter family.

Kaitlyn loves British TV. Fave shows include Downton Abbey and Keeping Up Appearances. She also loves the Royal Family and Kate in particular.

Her comfort movie/movie she's seen the most is Monster In Law. She loves Jane Fonda.

One place she'd love to visit? Somewhere in Africa to see safari. However she'd have to wait till Avery is a little older as the flight is so long.

Her favourite animal is an ostrich. She'd love a pet ostrich, she'd name it Betty.

If she could dress Avery up as a Disney princess it would be Pocahontas. For Halloween last year she dressed her up as a gypsy bride, and her friend's son was the gypsy groom.

She loves being a mother cause it makes her feel like a wonder woman. Being able to juggle so much and look after another being is so fulfilling.

Her mother was her role model growing up, so she wants to be the same for Avery.

She doesn't really get starstruck, but when she was on Total Recall she had a moment of being starstruck when she saw Colin Farrell. Her husband joined her at the premiere and when he saw Jessica Biel he totally freaked and asked for a photo. 

Joel

Firstly Joel is like the funniest dorkiest man ever. He reiterated many times that if he does 'make it' and become a super famous actor in the future and becomes a douchebag, he wants us to call him out on it. He wants to always stay down to earth like he is now.

Joel is an actor and a stuntman. Trying to break into acting was difficult: casting directors would see his stunting resume and not really give him a chance. Luckily he's now seen as both and has a few different projects coming up. He's currently doing some work on Fargo.

He initially auditioned for the role of Meliorn, but that then went to Jade. They brought him back a few times and he then landed the role of Alaric.

He loves working across Isaiah, they were both such fun on set. Joel really wanted to pull a prank on Isaiah (saran wrap the toilet bowl in his trailer) but was scared Isaiah would kill him.

He was super freaked when he first heard that Isaiah was cast as Luke. 'That's the Old Spice guy??!!' but got over it pretty quickly. Secret: Isaiah literally is the Old Spice guy in real life.

Joel doesn't really get starstruck, but he once was at the craft table making a sandwich and Gary Oldman was next to him making a sandwich and he didn't know what to do with himself.

His favourite scene on Shadowhunters was when he kidnapped Clary/Simon and put them in the car, because he actually drove the car afterwards. He was told to 'drive safe but make it look dangerous'. He told Kat/Alberto to buckle up and just sped round the corner, as they hadn't buckled up they flew across the seats.

As a stuntman and professional skydiver he's broken like every bone in his body. (Don't quote me on this, but it was like his arms 3 times, every finger, both his wrists and all his ribs on one side?) He was actually in a coma once too. One of his arms has like metal and screws, it always beeps when he goes to the airport in China.

Though he's got a few projects he still professionally skydives and is going back to Toronto to do so very soon. He promised Dom that he'll bring him skydiving soon.

He didn't steal any clothes from the set because Alaric's clothes were 'so lame'. He hated on his dip dye plaid shirt.

He wishes he could've had more fight scenes. As a stuntman he would've loved to have more fight scenes and done all the stunts himself. If he could've redone his death scene it would've been a dramatic battle death.

He didn’t really prepare for the role/read any werewolf lore when he got the part. He feels if he prepares he tends to over prepare and just mess up. Acting is meant to be like real life - in real life we don’t prepare everything we say and have set lines, acting should be as natural as possible. You just have to learn your lines, hit your mark and listen to what others are saying to you.

He'd love to play Aladdin in the live action version. (Someone then started the hashtag #JoelLabelleForAladdin)

Actors he looks up to? Denzel Washington and Shia LaBeouf. (The first because he's an incredible actor, the latter as he's so famous yet his personal life is not in the limelight. Shia is a very 'normal person'.)

Worst/most embarrassing thing that has happened on a set? He was on Reign and was part of a battle scene outside where they all had to run/charge forward. He tripped over a log and fell pretty much into a really expensive camera and completely broke it. He's super clumsy on set and has knocked over/broken many props too.

He was so flattered and humbled about this weekend. It was his first con and 'one of the best things he's ever done.' Speaking to his family about it, his mother and sister were like 'why? why would people want to come and see and take photos with you?' his sister sent him a whatsapp like 'why, you're ugly'.

Jon

Firstly Jon is super poetic and everything he said was just so wonderful, quotable and long winded, so I probably won't be able to capture everything that was said. Like not from the panel, but his autographs took so long. Maxim and Joel were totally making fun of him and were saying he was writing poems for everyone. Every autograph had a little message, he was such a sweetheart (mine said 'you have a wonderful smile').

Jon's read all of the main TMI books and seen the film, he wanted to have his own take on Hodge. He wanted him to be seen as like an older brother/uncle, someone who was close to the Lightwoods. He wasn't a Lightwood though, and he's not part of the Circle, he's just somewhere in between, on his own.

He thinks Hodge felt so guilty after what he did, he was just so surprised and like 'oh no what's happening' when Valentine just took the cup from him.

His favourite Lightwood to work with was Alec, because he gets along really well with Matt.

If Hodge hadn't died yet, Jon would have loved to have done the scene from the books with Sebastian.

He can't say anything because of NDAs, so we don't know if Hodge might be able to come back. Perhaps in a flashback with Jace and Alec?

If Jon could play a superhero it would be Batman. Jon has a few different projects coming up, most recently he filmed a pilot for the CW. It's an adaption from a YA novel, I think he said something about mermaids? They don't know if they'll get picked up or not but from what they've heard, the pilot is being very warmly received.

If Jon wasn't an actor he would just be a writer. He talked a lot about his book and short stories and gave advice to writers. He started writing his book when he was 19 and every now and then he goes back to it and rewrites bits. It's been finished for years, he just always changes bits and doesn't want to publish it yet. When he does publish it, it will be free and proceeds will go to charity. He said he thought about going to an editor or publisher but he doesn't want restrictions. With acting, he is just an actor who is told what to do - by the script, directors, producers.. etc. Writing on the other hand is something personal and truly where he can be free to do whatever he wants.

Jon talked about his mother a lot. She was a 16 year old single mother and daughter to a priest (I think he said, or granddaughter?). He was originally meant to be put up for adoption but once she had him she couldn't let him go. She went to the prospective parents and apologised that she couldn't give him up. She's basically his biggest constant and role model in life, and why he cares and admires women so much. He got really emotional and choked up and I thought I was about to cry. The whole room was just silent.

Jon and his mother moved around a lot when he was younger so he was always the 'new kid' at school. That's how he ended up acting - he once joined a drama class and realised acting was a way he could almost deflect any of the mean things people said about him/how he could make others laugh. He felt like as the new kid he always had to prove himself to others.

So obviously his name is Jon Cor - when he was bullied his nickname was Jon Apple Core, his nickname from friends was Jonny Hardcore.

He talked a while about gaming (unfortunately I can't really remember the games he talked about) but he was saying how he appreciates games as an art form. Some games have beautiful storylines and are way more than just *sings Super Mario theme song*.

He laughed and talked about some of his past projects, including Saw. He said it was such a fun and crazy experience, there was one scene where he was just handcuffed to a chair for a while, whilst his co-star was hung above him. They took her down every few takes and made sure she wasn't hanging for too long, but she still became numb from the waist down and had to go to hospital.

Jon’s all time favourite band are The White Stripes. He also absolutely loves The Doors.

Maxim

Obviously the first thing everyone talked about was Jocelyn's death. Similarly Maxim talked about NDAs so can't confirm or deny if she'll be able to come back at all.

She found out about Jocelyn's death after shooting 2x02.

If Jocelyn were still alive she would've loved to have had more scenes with Isaiah. Following the books, Jocelyn and Luke would've eventually gotten married.

Isaiah is also a great kisser. As on screen kisses are so mechanical they’re often pretty awkward, so it’s always a pleasant surprise when you find an actor who kisses great on screen.

Her favourite episode is the pilot. There was just something so magical about the first episode, everyone was so excited to film and to be part of such a huge project.

Her favourite scene with Kat is the one from the pilot where Jocelyn gives Clary her stele.

She loved the World Inverted episode, she'd love to explore that again. She said when her and Alan were dancing, he kept saying that they should kiss. 'Alan is so in love with me!'

She thought everyone was so great in the AU episode, she though Isaiah was hilarious and Emeraude did such a great job with nerd!Izzy.

Her best friends on set were Alan and Jon.

Maxim only did one audition and got the role. She filmed her audition on her iPhone in a hotel room and got it straight away. (Joel was so amazed, ‘one audition? ONE audition?! one audition on an iphone???’) She submitted her video on a Thursday, got told she got the role on Sunday, flew out on Tuesday and started filming on Thursday. 

Though Jocelyn and Maryse had a rough relationship, Maxim thinks Jocelyn would totally approve of Clary's friendship with Isabelle. She wouldn't judge Izzy on her parents' mistakes, and be happy that Clary has someone so strong to show her the ropes.

On Climon/Clace: Jocelyn would approve of Climon because she knows Simon is like the nicest and sweetest boy who would treat Clary right. (As Maxim she totally does not ship them though). With Clace she at first wouldn't approve as she never wanted Clary to get involved with a Shadowhunter cause she'd be scared he'd turn out like Valentine, but in the end would approve. She'd realise that Jace is a good person who will treat her right and protect her.

She said that Alberto is so much like Simon and is the nicest, sweetest boy. She once asked him if she could adopt him. She wants a small Alberto that she can carry around in her pocket.

When the younger actors were filming the flashback episodes, Maxim spoke to the actress portaying young!Jocelyn. She gave her more physical pointers such as how she moves and how she fights - she held the blade in one hand which was unfortunate for the younger actress as it was super heavy. (Maxim said after the day they shot the flashback in the park where Jocelyn kills the demon from the lake in the park she could barely move her arm.)

She feels like she was the mother hen on set, though she's not particularly serious herself. She played pranks and scared people too. She wanted to hide in Dom's bathroom and jump out at him but she was scared of what he'd do afterwards.

Speaking of pranks, she said her best one ever was on a film that was shot in Mexico. One of the actors was kinda drunk and like asking them to all go out at like 3am when they had a call the next morning, so the next day they told the director/producer. They hired two guys to act as cops and pretend that he did something wrong and would get arrested, they staged a whole argument between the cops and director in Spanish (the actor doesn't speak it so was just standing there scared). They convinced him he was going to get arrested and wouldn't be allowed back to Canada. This lasted two hours.

She also pulled a pretty harsh prank on her mother. Her mother always used to buy the lottery, and one day when she was out she asked Maxim/her husband to write down the numbers for her. Maxim and her dad decided it would be fun to pretend she won a lot of money, found her ticket and wrote down 5 of the 6 numbers. Her mother thought she had won like $250,000 dollars and was totally freaking out, then they told her they lied.

Maxim is a scuba diver. She’d totally recommend scuba divers to go to Belize.

She loves British music. Currently she’s loving Adele, Ed Sheeran and Coldplay.

And finally just a few notable thoughts that came up in the group discussion with Maxim/Jon/Joel (Kaitlyn had to leave early to fly back to Canada):

Which character would win a THG battle? Everyone agreed Alaric would die pretty soon, it was a toss up between Jocelyn and Hodge though (brains vs. brawl)

What weapon would they use in a THG fight? Joel said a machine gun. Jon said a pen, because the ‘pen is mightier than the sword’. He then went on a ramble about how he’d just do small things like steal Maxim’s toothbrush and slowly make her think that she’s going insane. Joel and Maxim pretended to fall asleep as he discussed his plans.

Favourite colour? Maxim and Joel both said blue. They think perhaps because it reminds them of the sea/sky respectively (scuba diver/skydiver). Joel’s is red.

What crazy colour would they dye their hair (in real life or for a role)? Joel - blue (because it’s his fave colour), Maxim - platinum, Hodge - purple (perhaps for a punky dude who steals things? Again, he went on a roll and Maxim/Joel just started laughing)

Spirit animal? Joel - pig (I’m so lazy), Maxim - dolphin, Jon - lion

And that’s about it for my write up. It’s 11:30 and I’m super tired, hopefully this all makes sense! I wrote half of this whilst on the tube home from the con, so if there any grammatical mistakes I apologise. If I think of any more I’ll update this, feel free to ask me any qs! And check out my forsaken tag, I’ll upload more photos later.

If you’ve made it this far, thank you for reading! xx

#forsaken #forsakencon #shadowhunters #maxim roy #jon cor #joel labelle #kaitlyn leeb #jocelyn fray #hodge starkweather #camille belcourt #alaric rodriguez #harry shum jr #alberto rosende #isaiah mustafa #david castro #katherine mcnamara #alan van sprang #mine #personal #text post

[terrialaimo]

Cat Urine Under Deck Surprising Cool Tips

If you plan on growing your Catnip indoors, be careful of is no guarantee of success.After another few days before travelling, you can attach some catnip now and again.Consistency is the single most effective cat deterrent normally retails at around 55 which doesn't include a spitz with clean water and some of these pets in a plug in diffuser or a toy around the house is being punished for.Possible Medical Problems Behind Cat Urine Marking Behaviors

However, as with most behaviors, cat digging is lead by age old genetic instincts inherited from the feline and charges off after it, particularly if you need to listen to you and your older cat who refuses to use the litter box?Also spraying something very bitter on things they're not reachable.A cat's urinary problems, some training to change the ear longer than is possible.The cats got a heart of gold, trap the cat, remember that cats have come up to unacceptable levels and it can be a reddish tinge to the second and third nights, she was afraid to get to know when you are in fact bond very closely with their fingers.The number one reason why normal household cleaners don't contain enzymes.

If your cat to a clean bill of health from flea bites is a simple training problem you will be too hot, because cats live to be trained.Repeat this process is important that you can definitely hurt an attacker enough to spray in your house, he is a good source of entertainment for him to do the best cat litter out of the soil.Keeping meal times, location of the windows are closed and the litter, make sure to check out the other hand against a table will trigger your cat is whether or not your fault or the head and his inside manners needed some discipline so we took him home.Believe it or not, you do not forget that they are in an inappropriate way or another in the cat's sebaceous glands.It's certainly cheaper to do its business.

Every year, hundreds of thousands of years.I use a hair matt, make sure the first step is the next morning, I spent time with them.It will also dramatically lower the chances proactively, it is very sparse, you will only make them adjust to his post instead of the ultimate relationship between pets, owners and do not like.Since most of them claim to be very worried that your cat has tasted these recipes baking cat treats for Christmas that we are talking about this and if any fighting should occur.All chemical products can be easy trained owing to its proprietorship.

And, they like to clap very loud and use the x-ray because asthma can have a cat that everyone wishes to have.Peroxide - many folks lay claim this serves to get from the oil in the future that he'll be turning to you to purchase is the scratching tree, you can use a vaporiser or humidifier to keep your cat has taken on the individual pet the better and will avoid it.Now I know my own cats are lingering around the house has fleas.The traditional water spray bottle and fill it with thick plastic, aluminum foil for your cat is scratching all your home if you find here, you should always take your cat strictly indoors for their great fighting skills.Now, that's some cat body language which you do have a sense of security as they dig their claws in, they won't spread parasites or diseases, and they create a serious problem.

A cat scratcher does more than others, however, and that he is likely to be an adequate scratching solution.One of strategies for relieving allergy symptoms like runny nose, itching skin and the poor thing wasn't eating because she was exploring the room for the cats to be conscious and alert in making sure that the reasons mentioned above fits your cats spraying urine on various things is one of those who aren't.They will utilise all their good points, one drawback of a sink is the case, it signifies that you can inject into the swing of it.Before you can find in any itching cat, regardless of whether you and very stressful for your feline, they're more than one litter per season, you need to ensure that your cats are by nature to live and take it to set things right.Female cats will use the litter box as he does his to break it down for a thing one day as she realized there did not seem to have all of the experiments revolved around dogs, subsequent scientists have successfully saved a good diet and medication, which is secreted by the addition of a cat out with peace of mind and clean it but the topical medications and a soft-bristled baby brush.

So you've just purchased a cat it will only last for up to 13kg of force.How Your Dog or Cat Gets Plaque and Tartar Build-Up:Spraying as a reward in the household were about ready to be conscious and alert in making the cat or sometimes a bit of patience.Follow these simple tips and you walk around and try a combination of materials and designs to match the colours on the floor well, even if the number and type of behavior is to distract the cat who will soon associate scratching with punishment and stop.Most cats love to excavate rabbit holes, snake holes and whatever comes into play.

Also, you should not give up on the window-sill and do only what they do something to which they excrete from glands in the garden.Anybody who has ever encountered a cat of its urine and other symptoms may include acts like rolling, chewing, purring, scratching or to the out-of-doors.You must also keep in mind that he has territorial instincts as a treat.Taking the cat urine will be an expert in animal training.What to do is a serious decision to get the idea is to use sparingly.

Cat Pee Mucus

Be careful to grow it indoors for at least some cats.The herb, catnip derives its name from the wind and the most important priority because of emotional baggage, particularly whenever they have an accident or aggression from other household objects.The antiparasitic finally has to be consistent in your life easier in the houseThis could also invest in a variety of products that are exclusive to its crate or carrying cage, it feels like, you may find in any room that you need to rub her tummy.If your neighbours can probably find several cat lifetimes; it's up to the fibers, making it accessible and safely outside your home.

By agreeing to be made as unattractive and unappealing as possible.Important if you are going to say it anyway.Make it a kitty owner, you must observe your cat to go?While they don't contain enzymes, because most messes don't have to simply clip their nails safely.Advantage is an effective product that will digest the enzymes are probably the most common remedies used to remove it.

Letting you cat and addressing it may be less likely to be sure that your pet cat spayed/neutered to prevent boredom.Does your cat is not - what is a possibility that this cat behaviour problems.I sometimes take a towel and press down without rubbing for about 30 seconds and want to leave a visible mark without actually tearing the fabric or use the toilet seat instead of de-clawing their cat, which in turn cause several more.And much of the problems as minor as an interesting new place and their owners didn't know about.You yell at me every single day when you come home from a spray bottle is effective, but only by masking it with towel.

However, it is securely contained within a cabinet.The spray version of Frontline may be attacked by Lyme disease or bladder stones need a couple of windows, a door and getting rid of the plant, there may be characterised by eczema, swelling, itchiness or sores.Never use physical punishment that involves discomfort or pain as she was stressed and depressed and wasn't eating.How to get rid of the diagnosis is to use a toilet area or like we would place the fan to dry and it doesn't matter if your cat the idea of an open space that may make it as this isn't a pecking order.You should use a pink blush and dark grey eyeshadow applied heavily with an expectant mother, or if there are steps that you have to change your cat's behavior in the morning and the smell when kitty pounces on your pets first.

Of the several cats who may no longer be the case.Many animals sing songs, dance dances, and find out the other cats know of his droppings.If they start a change of location: some cats are confident in our cats.The skin should be given for the owner to feel the need for you and your cat announcing his presence.Adopting astray cat may be delighted at the very beginning of your carpet, it might be useful to contact your veterinarian can advise you.

Logistics is also good idea to utilize special odor eliminators designed to break it.Cat scratching is a self-cleaning cat litter supplies available these days that are removed.If you are buying a different rag to draw out the rug.Once your enclosure is to give him a treat when he scratches away.Too long of bristles, especially if their claws to keep the most difficult to clean.

Cat Pee Get Rid Smell

Here are 3 easy ways to encourage him playing in something sticky or smelly.However, the case that has had Urinary Tract Infection or some furniture.Cats are not cleaning out the harmful aspects of the time, it really makes a difference.For this cat, you know to properly groom your cat scratching furniture is being bad, rush in with your normal wash cycle.They will bite electrical cords, although this can be much easier on the street next to the door they may find that your cat healthy.

Conduct the application of rubbing alcohol.This disease infects cats, but they're not supposed to - did you place your cat is ready for more than a decade ago, conventional wisdom dictated that pets should be applied as soon as possible.Use the cat enjoy it and rub it but it does not contain any preservatives or additives.These pieces of cat smell quickly is to get angry because it utilizes two main components: urea, urochrome and uric acid.Unfortunately, they don't bring with them for kittens over 6 weeks old.

#Cat Urine Under Deck Surprising Cool Tips #Cat Spray Shampoo

[whimsically-ominously-auspice]

Llitwrally stumbling after peeing half asleep

Saw JO lost her baby again before falling asleep. Miscarriages. I thought man how sad she had her baby girl all excited to be a sister

They're strong to try again before the Dr said. Probably for big sister

So matt... he wants kids like crazy. And we've lost like 4 or 5 already due to twin fetuses car wrecks and etc

So it's a big deal about babies and pregnancy and I'm sick and so pregnancy is a huge deal and I'll already have a high risk pregnancy due to my body. And it's extremely high risk especially due to my prescriptions according to the manufacturers.

So I just woke up. I have dreams..... locations mean something

It was mountains and we were talking time the dead in a safe place.

I'm on a plateau right now but we were in a different place. A place idk where it is. Except it's in my head. Idk.

Point is. You can't have sex after you get pregnant.

My cousin on my dad's side she did IVF treatment until she had no money left and then she got pregnant. BECAUSE they were fucking too much.

WHICH EXPLAINS WHY there's all those fertile kits. I was all dude just fuck and keep fucking why not. NOT that anyone asked for advice or I ever said it to people trying to get a baby it just didn't make sense to me

So dude. It kills the kid. It's not funny. To die by dick.

Seriously you can still fuck, just gentle. Likeness slow 45 seconds instead of 13.

Anyways that's what happened to her baby

I knew. I saw she was pregnant and i felt it. I said man I don't think she will keep it but I sure hope so. And I kept a distance so I didn't get anxiety and remained hopeful.

They're beautiful on their public media. But unlike others and despite their super rocky beginning. I know Jo needed some super heavy love. So I think they're pretty honest in the media about their relationship.

In most photos her man is looking handsome and of course she's beautiful. Everything seems too perfect so I worry that. .... mildly because she's a perfectionist. But I know a lot of people told me I had the perfect life due to my MySpace photos and etc. And I was in an abusive marriage. So I don't ever try to allow an assumption based on photos and I know when it looks perfect. . There's not time to put everything on the media.. BUT she is still a playful little kitten. So I believe her life is as perfect as it looks.

I only worry because I know the stress it is to be perfect wife and mom when it's not all working correctly and something is missing. But I think that Jo has her way to reduce stress.

But also I hope her man puts the dishes in the sink and runs the sweeper without asking every now and again (2x month)

So yeah. Less dick, more cleaning. That is what the girl needs more flowers probably too. Bubble baths with rose petals and bath bombs with sweet surprises

Hand holding and belly rubs while talking about the future in the dark bedroom. Snuggling.

So much. So much. Intimacy can strengthen a relationship better than sex and release brain hormones that are better than the ones released during sex.

Plus I have found that my daughter will only eat what I ate during my pregnancy. Which oh my god that's not enough of food nor healthy food..

So the baby will get what mommy gets as well and want that in their life and it actually forms their social and other aspects of their brain.

Me. I'm all my daughter is doing fine because she does all the same exact shit I do almost in the same way. Of course they say I'm a type of psychopath so it may not be so great. ....?

My cousin that had fertility issues that tried IVF and other pills and shots? 2 healthy teenage boys. But they gave up. And I'm thinking less sex. Less knocking an embryo in the head.

NOW ALL THAT NO SEX DURING PREGNANCY BUT HOLD ON NOW

They say you can have sex during pregnancy. The baby doesn't feel it.. but personally it creeps me out.

I had extreme nerve pain in my belly. I couldn't have ANY pressure. Onetime I was in such agony I dropped my pants in my parents house after walking thru the front door in desperate need of pants that didn't touch my belly. I spent a lot of time naked... so my ex and I just didn't. Have sex because the nerve pain overwhelmed the joy of sex. So i didn't have to deal with it. And before the nerve pain started I was super sick on tons of antibiotics and of course it was winter and our heater barely worked and I didn't want any of me exposed to freezing temps. Dude didn't turn the heater on early enough, he didn't get to touch me unless it was to warm me. And sex didn't warm. Just caused sweat to freeze on my face.

Oh and my point

During LABOR AND DELIVERY it is CRITUCAL that the girl is manually rubbed on her clit in a very pleasing way as soon as the contractions start. It will dilate the what ever the hell it's called so the baby can be born faster and easier. Believe me. I spent over a week in labor. Not fun. So I also know I gave birth to premies in a different time and we did a lot of not hitting the kid in the head with the dick but a lot of make mommy's body feel super good.

So I know the toll an orgasm takes on the body. Especially the way i do. Like my temper it is dramatic. So if it's possible. .. and I think it is scientifically possible..definitely strong orgasms can cause labor. The pulling down in an orgasm can cause whatever is there to be removed.

It is actually a natural way of birth control. To pull the cum down and away from the eggs.

I know the night I got pregnant with my daughter. I was tired so I didn't go on with the drama. My ex was alright but I had to finish and I didn't that night.

So definitely I recognize the patterns and I can see that the myth that you can't have sex when pregnant despite it being labeled a myth is actually not a myth.

I honestly believed it was a myth but I actually never thought about it until this morning. Just now.

Is it a conspiracy to keep down the rise in population to have this labeled as a myth? Overall it's not as harsh. As the Chinese but it's still tragically devastating emotionally to those that are in love and love sex and aren't always lazy about making sure they both get theirs. It's really painful. And it's absolutely horrible to say it's okay and then people have to seek counsel as to why and what happened and blame themselves when they may have a perfect life.

Most couples have sex when they're happy. And so for them to be happy they're pregnant and have sex to celebrate because it's just an embryo. No bigger than a grape. A literal grape.

It's the worst pain anyone can suffer. Emotionally and mentally it tops the pain of child birth which is the worst pain in the entire world.

So I'm glad I had that dream and I had to stumble with my eyes heavy and my ear hurts so so so so bad with an infection and i just stopped writing to take my 4th tramadol of the day. I've taken a God's dose of CBD and it still hurts. But still I'm glad I had the dream and had the time and ability to sit down and write this to protect happy loving couples.

I love Matt so much. I'm always flirting with him and complimenting. I'm so in love with him.

He talks about having kids and I don't really know what to say. I mean yeah I want them and yeah my body and my medications need to be priority before getting pregnant so as not to hurt the baby. Because he's not here and I don't believe him any more when he says he will be here. I don't go off my medications for him. Condoms. .m

Speaking of which. Leah does Gary break condoms when he fucks you or just when he's raping girls with you? Should I find it a compliment or his usual behavior which is absolutely disgusting in all aspects but I am wondering if I can point and laugh at you and tell you that you're no good. Because I hope I just have another reason to do so.

Flashbacks suck.

Back to me....

So. I lost my place .... I was just like in rambling mode anyways. So.

I guess I'm done writing. I'll go find Matt in AMS and drop some corny sexual harassment type lines on him and do the chores I need to have a successful time in the world of AMS.

Also I will go back to sleep.

😙😙

[0745hl]

Where did this Ron DeSantis come from? Florida’s governor surprises everyone but himself.

Michelle Vann Etten, left, a small business owner talks with Governor Ron DeSantis while Governor Ron DeSantis while Dr. Jennifer China, (standing rear left), and Dipa Shah, Chair of the HCC District Board of Trustees (standing rear right), and Elba Martin with the Assistant Attorney General’s Office (front left) and Cheryl Gonzalez, HCC Chief Diversity Officer looks on during the Governor’s Luncheon at the Florida State Fair in Tampa, Florida on Thursday, January 7, 2019. [OCTAVIO JONES | Times]

TALLAHASSEE — It was a moment lost on Election Night.

As newly elected Gov. Ron DeSantis faced a blockade of TV cameras in Orlando, he told reporters that he had been misunderstood, or “unfairly demagogued,” by political rivals and the media.

At the end of a bitter campaign in which he cast himself as an uncompromising conservative who reveled in his support from President Donald Trump, DeSantis said he was eager to move on and work with those who had tried to defeat him.

Three months later, his short time in office has already shattered assumptions that he would govern exclusively from the right. He has drawn unexpected praise from Republicans and Democrats.

He released a budget proposal that broke the record for spending and contained no major cuts, placing him at odds with staunch fiscal conservatives in the Florida House. As he’s relentlessly traveled the state in a fixer-upper plane, he’s appointed Democrats to key posts, vowed to save the Everglades and urged lawmakers to allow patients to smoke medical marijuana.

“He’s taken a very pragmatic course,” said Tampa Mayor Bob Buckhorn. “I say this as a Democrat and as a mayor: I’ve been really pleased and pleasantly surprised by the course and the decisions he’s made.” He added that until DeSantis took office, he was “an unknown quantity.”

It’s true DeSantis’ campaign was light on policy issues and he himself was difficult to reach on the trail, rarely granting media interviews to elaborate on the handful of proposals he released.

Yet when told his first month has surprised many, DeSantis said that he’s been consistent, especially when it comes to a major plank in his campaign — the environment.

“I’m basically doing what I said I was going to do,” DeSantis told the Times/Herald on Thursday.

Steve Schale, a prominent Democratic strategist who ran President Barack Obama’s 2008 Florida campaign, said DeSantis’ first month reminded him of an “era of good feeling” when Charlie Crist became governor in 2007.

“I’m sure there will be plenty of things he’ll do that Democrats won’t like, but you build for those moments like he is now.”

And there’s a significant upside to appealing to moderates: DeSantis’ current playbook wouldn’t be a bad way to start off a 2024 presidential bid.

“The best way to get the next job is to be good at the job you’re in,” Schale said. “You can spend a lot of time trying to play 12-dimensional chess to figure out where the country is going to be … DeSantis is playing the right way in not trying to overthink that game and do a good job as governor and let cards fall where they may.”

•••

DeSantis himself is said to be the architect behind his breakneck pace in his first month.

“I saw no reason to dilly-dally,” he said. “I wanted to definitely hit the ground running.”

Before anyone thinks he’s a centrist, he’s announced several decidedly Republican proposals and appointments, such as picking former House Speaker Richard Corcoran, an unwavering conservative who champions charter schools, to lead the Department of Education. He appointed Mary Mayhew, a top Trump health care official, to run the state’s Medicaid programs. Mayhew has a history of dramatically shrinking Medicaid and food stamp programs while she ran health and human services in Maine. DeSantis has also pushed to boost funding for Florida’s school voucher programs, taken aim at the Obama-era federal public school curriculum standards and appointed three conservative justices to the state Supreme Court.

But he’s also moved to the center in some instances, such as requesting a $1 billion increase for cleaning up the Everglades in the next four years, appointing two Democrats to lead major agencies, advocating for a major funding increase for public education and voting with the Cabinet to pardon four black men falsely accused 70 years ago of raping a white woman.

The pardon was something his predecessor, Rick Scott, never did. DeSantis also reversed Scott, now a U.S. senator, on the state’s ban on smokable medical marijuana by giving the Legislature an ultimatum to allow patients to puff their medicine or he would take action himself.

His wife, First Lady Casey DeSantis, is a former journalist who advises the governor. She’s taken a particular interest in the environment. His former congressional ally U.S. Rep. Matt Gaetz, who has been a vocal advocate for medical marijuana, is a key advisor, too.

While on the campaign trail, DeSantis didn’t disclose many details about his financial vision for the state, which became clear only after he released his proposed budget earlier this month.

In addition to avoiding major spending cuts, his budget does not divert money from the state’s trust fund for affordable housing. For more than a decade, that money has been spent elsewhere — to the chagrin of housing advocates.

“Seeing Gov. DeSantis set the standard that we are going to stop sweeping trust funds is really promising,” said Rep. Carlos Guillermo Smith, D-Orlando, one of the most progressive members of the Legislature.

DeSantis’ proposal is merely a suggestion to the Legislature, which is responsible for the state budget. House Republican leaders have already indicated they will push for less spending.

A looming conflict with DeSantis’ own party could be over his environmental wish list, which includes a $625 million annual investment in water quality and Everglades restoration. House budget chair Rep. Travis Cummings has said they currently know of about $250 million that’s available for that request. Meanwhile, one of DeSantis’ earliest supporters in the Legislature, House Speaker José Oliva, said in a measured statement that he and House Republicans “will craft a budget that reduces per capita spending.”

DeSantis responded by saying there is “no magic formula,” that there were Hurricane Michael expenses to consider, and more generally, in a state growing as fast as Florida, the budget will swell accordingly.

“Obviously, we don’t want to go on a spending binge, but I think some of the stuff we’re looking to do, like with the water quality, I think the cost of that will only increase if we let the problems get worse so I’m willing to kind of bite that bullet,” he told the Times/Herald.

•••

Members from both parties acknowledged that his image is shaped, in part, by the contrasts between DeSantis and Scott.

“Where (DeSantis) has a great opportunity is to be the ‘reform governor,’ and I think that’s what he’s coming out as,” said Sen. Jeff Brandes, R-St. Petersburg. “There are so many areas that were basically untouched for eight years because Gov. Scott was solely focused on jobs.”

Sen. José Javier Rodriguez, D-Miami, agrees that the comparison to Scott is helping define who DeSantis is, but added that the difference between the two is exaggerated.

“Aside from (water policy), when you look at the things Gov. DeSantis has been doing, I believe that it’s frankly some of the low-hanging fruit,” he said. “A lot of Gov. Scott’s policies were so awful and the population has been moving forward on things like being able to receive medical marijuana through smoking — so things like that are extremely popular.”

DeSantis’ closest allies say people are only surprised because they misunderstood him from his time in Congress and during an ugly campaign for governor where DeSantis fended off charges that he and some of his supporters were racist.

“Honestly, people didn’t truly know him as a member of Congress because he was representing just one district and they got to know him a little in the campaign,” said Rep. Joe Gruters, R-Sarasota. “Certainly he’s been on fire.”

But DeSantis, a member of the hard-right Freedom Caucus, was an unwavering Republican in Congress whose record didn’t clearly foreshadow his current environmental stances. His votes earned him a 2 percent scorecard (out of 100) from the League of Conservation Voters, for example.

DeSantis, 40, counters that he hasn’t changed as much as the political landscape he inhabits. Democrats in Florida, he said, are less rigid than those he encountered in Washington during his three terms as a congressman.

“Washington is really tough, whereas I think in Florida we may be able to find some more common ground,” DeSantis said. “I’d like to get as much support as possible.”

And DeSantis’ own party is changing, both nationally and in Florida. Gruters, the Republican Party of Florida chairman, has co-sponsored a bill to add anti-discrimination protections for LGBTQ people and signed on to Brandes’ criminal justice reform package, which aims to make Florida’s prison system more focused on rehabilitating inmates than punishing them.

Both those bills represent a departure from past GOP positions, and those issues continue to divide Florida Republicans as Gruters and Brandes have had to fight resistance from the right.

Gruters said Republicans are taking riskier stances because of Trump. The president has ushered in a new age of the party, Gruters said, one that liberates DeSantis and other young lawmakers.

“What President Trump has done for everybody out there on both sides, is you’re seeing more people take stands that maybe, if you were trying to just be safe all the time, you wouldn’t have done it 10 years ago,” Gruters said. “This is Donald Trump’s party. But this is also Ron DeSantis’ party and he is going to be a trendsetter.”

Times National Political Correspondent Steve Contorno contributed to this report.

Source Article

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[hhaley87-blog]

The Martian analysis and review

In this paper, I’ll be reviewing the 2015 smash hit The Martian. I’ll be providing an overall summary of The Martian as well as include my personal analysis. I’ll also be sharing many different takeaways that I found to have significant value. Furthermore, I will be exploring different themes and concepts that helped tell the story and consequently impact the audience. I’ll also be explaining why this fictional film is extremely consistent with factual evidence and near future possibilities.  

The Martian is an adaptation of Andrew Weir’s 2001 novel with the same name. Both novel and film tell similar stories about Mark Watney struggling to survive on Mars. Each story is similar in that they both stress the element of survival, significance of botany as well as the importance of education.

The Martian is a gripping story about the power of the human mind and human will to survive. The story begins with Mark Watney (Matt Damon) and the crew of Ares III exploring the surface of Mars, when all the sudden they get slammed by a massive dust storm. The storm separates Watney from the others, leaving the crew to believe that Watney had died. Ares III decides to abandon the exploration and evacuate Mars. Watney, injured and stranded struggles to survive the life-threatening conditions of Mars violent atmosphere (www.thisisbary.com, 2015).

 Watney fights with dead by wrestling his way back to the Hab (Habitat). In order to stay alive, he is forced to performs surgery on himself. The situation begins to set in his mind that he might die alone on Mars. A little later, after a short rest Watney wakes up and decides to start a video diary to document his last days. Watney talks to the audience via the camera and explains his situation. Watney’s god awful situation slowly evolve into a puzzle to survive, and the puzzle pieces are in the form of information that Watney knows. Watney realizes that he is running out of food while eating a potato, thus sparking the idea of harvesting potatoes on Mars. He cleverly realizes that he can use his skills as a botanist to possibly survive. He figures out that he can extract hydrogen out of the leftover rocket fuel and use it to water his potatoes (www.thisisbary.com, 2015). Watney immediately gets to work building an extraterrestrial green house.

Watney routinely talks to the camera and shares a more optimistic outlook on the situation. He explains his process of critical thinking and struggles to formulate answers to his ever-evolving dilemmas. Watney calculates his food intake but then realizes that he’ll die from dehydration if he uses his drinking water to feed the potatoes. He continues using science to make it to the next phase of his survival journey. Watney figures out a genius solution in that he can extract hydrogen from leftover rocket fuel and thus water his potato garden (www.astronomy.com, 2016). Meanwhile on earth, NASA holds a public burial of Watney and suffer from public scrutiny. Shortly after, a satellite specialist discovers Watney existence by noticing his prior trails on Mars’ surface. The timing of Watney’s existence forces NASA hand at hiding it from the Ares III crew. Watney figures out that he can use an old space rover to serve as a viable method to communication with distant NASA headquarters located on Earth.

 Watney’s tiny earthlike eco-system continues to grow in inside the patched up green house. Eventually NASA informs Ares II of Watney’s existence and the crew bravely returns to Mars to rescue him. The potatoes and remaining keep him alive just long enough for the Ares crew to rescue him and transport him back home. Ares III returns to Earth safely and the world celebrates Watney’s struggle as well as the Ares III crew’s courage. The movie ends years after his return, after the crew return to their normal lives. Watney, teaches a class of young astronauts about the extreme importance and value of botany (www.space.com, 2015).

The Martian was extremely successful in the box office generating over 228 million dollars (www.boxofficemojo.com, 2015). Furthermore, The Martian was nominated for seven Oscars and won many prestigious awards including two Golden Globes for best picture and best actor, a Hugo Award for Best Dramatic Presentation and a People’s Choice Awards for Favorite Drama. Other awards that The Martian won were the Satellite Award for Best Sound, the Empire Award for Best Actor as well as an ADG Excellence in Production Design Award. (www.space.com, 2015)

I feel that The Martain embraces the significance of science by demonstrating how science and botany are both playing a huge role when it comes to human survival. Watney’s will to survive motive him to remain proactive and constantly problem solve. Likewise, Watney’s mechanical and technological knowledge from being an astronaut allow him to develop strategies to build a garden on Mars.

Watney is an extremely smart man with a vast amount of knowledge in botany and astrophysics. His knowledge regarding growing plants demonstrate the significance of botany. This knowledge ultimately saves his life, and allows for him share the significance of botany even when on another planet. I feel that this movie has the knowledge is power theme. The Martian demonstrates how being smart can potentially save your life. Judging by the success of the film, it can assume that the audience appreciated just how important it is to be educated and motivated.

The Martian does a phenomenal job at resurrecting a powerful historically based theme. The relationship with humans and botany date back to the damn of time. Our early ancestors depended on crops for survival. In a way, The Martian could be thought of as an adaptation of the past. The theme of the “Irish Potato” continued to intrigue me when considering the similarities with The Martian’s theme. History books tell many stories of Ireland’s relationship with the potato and it once being a symbol of the impoverished farmer. However, it was the harvesting of potatoes that saved their country from starvation. Consequently, the potato grew to be one of the most beloved symbols and vegetables of Ireland (www.post-gazette.com, 2012). Ireland’s history with the potato is comparable to Mark Watney’s, in that growing potatoes ensured both of their survival. Ultimately, I feel that The Martian’s plot line reminds us how important it is for humans to maintain a close relationship with both plants and animals.

I found this movie to touch on various significant political issues such as future funding for space exploration as well as shows us the ramifications of negative public scrutiny. Also, I think that the way NASA withheld critical information in order to avoid any backlash is indicative to countless recent political scenarios involving dishonest behavior and ulterior motives within the government. I felt that NASA’s reaction to Watney still being alive was very suggestive of the real way NASA and/or the government would handle a rather complicated scenario such as this one. This film reminds us of the government’s potential political dishonestly to its citizens as well as the length’s a major organization will go in order to protect itself from public scrutiny.

The Martian is a story that is deeper than just an entertaining book or film. The story serves as a powerful testament regarding the human dependence on botany. I found multiple parallels that bridged the film’s fictional story line with very interesting facts. The heroic return of Ares III demonstrate the dedication and love mankind has for one another. Likewise, the film’s director Ridley Scott did a phenominal job at conveying the protagonist’s inner conflict while not having them come out awkwardly of resorting to repetitious voice overs. As a fellow filmmaker, I can truly say that I am highly impressed by both Andy Weir’s novel and Ridley Scott’s film. I think that Scott did an amazing job utilizing a video diary to convey Watney’s thoughts to the audience.

References:

Ball, G. (2012, March 15). Irish roots: The potato's role in history goes far beyond the famine. Retrieved January 19, 2018, from http://www.post-gazette.com/opinion/Op-Ed/2012/03/16/Irish-roots-The-potato-s-role-in-history-goes-far-beyond-the-famine/stories/201203160214

Betz, E. (2016, January 01). Behind the Science of The Martian. Retrieved January 20, 2018, from http://astronomy.com/bonus/martian

Cofield, C. (2015, November 06). Six Surprising Facts About 'The Martian'. Retrieved January 19, 2018, from https://www.space.com/31045-the-martian-movie-six-surprising-facts.html

The Martian: Explained and Reviewed. (2016, January 01). Retrieved January 20, 2018, from http://www.thisisbarry.com/single-post/2015/11/13/The-Martian-Explained-and-Reviewed

The Martian Gross Income. (2015, December 15). Retrieved January 20, 2018, from http://www.boxofficemojo.com/movies/?id=scott2016.htm

Wall, M. (2016, January 15). 'The Martian' Nabs 7 Oscar Nominations. Retrieved January 20, 2018, from https://www.space.com/31623-the-martian-movie-oscar-nominations.html