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tennessoui · 3 years

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Ummmmmm can i please request 5

This was written all on my phone waiting for my train and I’m trying to post it through my phone which tumblr is being a lil bitch about but here is

5. Falling Pregnant After A One Night Stand (3.6k)

(squick: a/b/o dynamics, mpreg)(two tags I never thought I’d write lmao)

Anakin’s working on the couch when he hears the key in the lock of the apartment door, signaling that finally—finally—Obi-Wan’s home from his week-long hastily planned stay at Bail’s place.

Bail and Breha’s place, Anakin reminds himself. Obi-Wan’s mated friends pose no competition to Anakin’s inner alpha, which definitely thinks of Obi-Wan as his omega.

Obi-Wan comes into the main room quietly, putting his bag on one of the barstools and leaning against the counter for a second, head bowed.

When he lets out a sigh and a heavy curse, Anakin can’t stop himself from speaking up, alarmed. “Are you alright? Did something happen?”

Obi-Wan jolts and turns around to face the couch, clearly startled. “Anakin!” he yelps, one hand flying to his stomach and the other to grip the counter behind him, as if Anakin is an intruder, and not the man he’s been living with for six years. “I thought you’d be at work!”

Anakin fights the urge to flush. The truth is, he’s tried to go into work for the past three days, but Obi-Wan’s absense has kicked his alpha hindbrain into a special kind of panic mode, where he can’t stand to leave the den until the omega returns to it safely.

It’s not like Anakin’s going to say that though, not after five years of pining for the older omega from afar. He’s a pro at this by now.

“Working from home today,” Anakin says. And then so Obi-Wan doesn’t think he’s spent his entire week alone on the couch waiting to be not alone anymore (he has), he lies, “Woke up hungover.”

“On a Thursday?” Obi-Wan says, sounding a bit concerned.

Anakin purses his lips and tries not to pout. He rakes his eyes over the omega, taking in his messed up hair and untrimmed beard and the dark circles that have popped up beneath his eyes. “You didn’t answer, Obi-Wan,” he accuses. “What’s wrong?”

The omega’s scent tinges with distress, which only proves Anakin’s point further. Obi-Wan never lets his scent leak through his blockers, not if he can help it. Anakin’s always made sure to luxuriate in his unbridled scent when he can, one that smells like maple and rain and cinnamon. But to smell it now just makes him feel more worried.

“Are you going into—“ Anakin stutters over the word heat. Obi-Wan’s at least feeling well enough to roll his eyes fondly. The older omega thinks Anakin’s one of those alphas that get wildly uncomfortable talking about an omega’s heat. It’s not true. Anakin’s helped friends through heats both platonically and sexually. Look, he’s run to the corner bodega at two in the morning to get Padmé heating pads to be left outside her door. He’s no stranger to heats.

But the idea of his prim and proper roommate writhing around in his nest, begging for something to fill him up the way he needs—that makes Anakin stutter and blush and trip over his words.

“No,” Obi-Wan says, but there’s something off in his tone, something sour in his scent. Anakin puts his laptop aside—the screen’s gone dark already anyway—and makes to stand, his inner alpha baying with the need to run his hands over the omega, to make sure he’s not bleeding or hurt or injured—

“I—I’m going to unpack and take a shower,” Obi-Wan decides, pushing away from the counter and closer to the couch. Not close enough. But closer. “And then I need to talk to you about something.”

“Are you…” Anakin casts around for the right word to say. Ill. Leaving me. Sick. Sick of me. Done with all of this. Dying.

Obi-Wan pauses and gives him his own sort of once-over. Whatever he finds in either his body language or his scent brings a soft smile to the omega’s face. “I’m fine, dear one. I—I need a shower. I don’t—smell right.”

Anakin blinks after him, hands balling into fists and relaxing as he processes those words. Usually it’s Anakin who wants Obi-Wan to shower off the stench of other alphas after his business trips or stays at his friends’ places. Obi-Wan’s always insisted he smells fine, but he’ll cave if Anakin’s mood gets bad enough.

It’s not something he’s especially proud of, but it’s worth it when Obi-Wan curls up onto the couch beside Anakin and he smells only like the shampoo and soap they share.

Sometimes if he’s tired enough, he’ll even let Anakin scent mark him so that next time he goes out, everyone will automatically assume he’s already in possession of an alpha and not looking for anything.

Sometimes, he even asks for it. Those times are the best.

Anakin tries to sit still while he waits for Obi-Wan to come back, but it’s impossible. He moves to the table, then to the kitchen counter, then back to the couch. Where should he sit, where would be a place he feels safe enough to receive whatever news Obi-Wan’s putting off telling him?

In the omega’s arms in his own bed, is the answer that comes to mind. But can he really ask that of Obi-Wan? They’ve done it before, when Anakin’s mother had died, when Ahsoka had left the city to get a degree abroad, when Anakin feels as though he’s going to shake apart if he doesn’t hold onto his omega and make sure that he at least can’t leave him too.

When Obi-Wan comes out of his room, all flushed from the shower with his hair still damp and messy, wearing a blue sweater Anakin’s pretty sure used to be his and a pair of sweatpants that are definitely currently his, there’s hardly a choice to make. If Obi-Wan wants to wear his scent, Anakin will give it to him.

Silently he takes his hand and leads him to his bedroom, toeing out of his shoes and tugging him into his bed and into his arms.

Obi-Wan goes so easily that it only makes Anakin more worried. His heart cannot take this level of stress and he has to hide his face in the crook of Obi-Wan’s neck and inhales greedily at the pure scent of omega—Obi-Wan omega—his omega.

“Obi-Wan,” he says nonsensically, just to feel the way the omega in his arms shudders at the sensation of his lips brushing against the sensitive skin of his neck.

But then Obi-Wan doesn’t stop shaking and Anakin can feel a growing wetness against his shirt. He can’t stop the distressed rumble that comes out of his throat, but he bites his tongue just in time to stop the alpha command to tell him. Obi-Wan wouldn’t like that and Anakin wouldn’t like doing it.

His hands stroke soothingly over the omega’s back as he starts purring from within his chest. An alpha’s purr is supposed to reassure an omega, make them feel safe and protected, but Obi-Wan doesn’t seem to realize this because he doesn’t stop crying.

“Talk to me,” Anakin murmurs nosing at the short hairs behind Obi-Wan’s ears. “Baby. Obi. Omega. What is wrong? What can I do?”

Obi-Wan wipes his eyes dry on Anakin’s shirt and looks up at him with a heartbroken but strangely resigned expression. Like he already knows what Anakin’s going to do, and he thinks nothing he says will change anything.

As if.

When Obi-Wan went on a two month long business trip three years ago, Anakin grew out a beard and it only took one look from the omega upon his return before Anakin was shaving it off. The point is, Obi-Wan doesn’t even need to speak half the time for Anakin to agree. He’s just that in love. It’s pathetic. He can’t remember who he was before it.

“I’m a mess, I’m sorry,” Obi-Wan finally gets out, retracting one of his hands from the tight grip he has on Anakin’s shirt to rub at his eye. “I told myself I wasn’t going to be like this, but. I don’t—it’s—“

“Hey, hey,” Anakin soothes, leaning back a bit so he can knock their foreheads together. Packmates do that all the time. “It’s okay.”

Obi-Wan nods slowly, and his scent expands with the pleasant notes of a comforted, protected omega.

“Do you remember…when I went to Seattle at the end of August for that conference?” he starts slowly.

Anakin hums in acknowledgement. He’d wanted to go with Obi-Wan, instincts demanding that the other side of the country was too far for the omega to travel alone, but he’d not been able to get time off of work.

His heart drops into his stomach at the idea that somehow maybe Obi-Wan met someone there during his four-day trip, and he’s in love with them and is trying to find a way to tell Anakin he’s moving.

Would it be pathetic if Anakin followed him? Would Obi-Wan’s new alpha allow Anakin to live with Obi-Wan still? Would Obi-Wan’s alpha be amenable to telling Anakin how he made Obi-Wan fall in love with him in a matter of days when Anakin’s been trying to get the man to love him romantically for six years?

Anakin’s heart rate is up, but it’s nothing compared to the staccato beat of Obi-Wan’s. He tries to send out more calming pheromones, but he can’t even find them for himself.

This is it. He’s about to lose Obi-Wan. The alpha inside of him whimpers, and it takes all of his willpower not to crush his omega tighter to his chest.

No. Not his.

“I met a man there, just at the hotel,” Obi-Wan says. It would have been kinder if he’d just stabbed Anakin with the kitchen knife. There’s no relief to be found in this slow death. Because—because surely, Anakin will die without Obi-Wan. Not physically, of course. He’s not one of those alphas who doesn’t know how to take care of himself.

Actually, it’s Anakin that cooks most of the time for both of them. And Anakin will do the shopping, will keep an eye on the amount of cleaning supplies they have, how much toilet paper, how many garbage bags.

But what would be the point of cooking anything if Obi-Wan isn’t there to taste it and shower him with praise? What’s the point of cleaning the apartment if Obi-Wan isn’t there to tuck himself into his arms on the couch and thank him for the work? What’s the point of anything if he’s doing it without Obi-Wan?

“Anakin, I—“ Obi-Wan stutters and falls silent. Anakin braces himself for the end he should have seen coming. “I’m pregnant.”

White noise. Anakin doesn't even think he’s breathing. Obi-Wan is pregnant. Obi-Wan…had a one-night stand in a city 2,400 miles away from Anakin, and he’s pregnant. Someone touched Obi-Wan, someone made Obi-Wan come, someone got Obi-Wan pregnant, and maybe…maybe there’s a chance they’ll get to keep Obi-Wan too.

The alpha in his chest howls at the thought. The idea that—that someone else will have a better claim on Obi-Wan’s heart. What’s six years of living together compared to a child?

Except Obi-Wan presses further into his chest, with a shaky whine. The omega is here now, not with any other alpha, not in any other city. He’s in Anakin’s bed, in Anakin’s arms.

Anakin opens and closes his mouth, trying to figure out what to say, how to say it, how to speak. He needs to know so much more. He needs to know what Obi-Wan is going to do, if he’s in contact with the father, if he’s planning to move, if he’s planning to raise the—

As if he can hear his thoughts, Obi-Wan starts talking again, very fast as if he’s afraid Anakin’s going to kick him out in a few minutes and he needs to get the whole story out before he does.

“I’m keeping it. Them. I—I’m so old now—“ he’s barely 38– “I’m afraid this could be my only chance at…at a family.”

Anakin closes his eyes and hides his face in the still-damp strands of Obi-Wan’s hair. He doesn’t want Obi-Wan to see how devastated he is at this response. Anakin’s family is Obi-Wan. He’d thought…he’d wanted….

“I understand if you want to move out before the lease ends,” Obi-Wan mumbles, but his hands clench tightly around Anakin’s back. “I know…a baby…another alpha’s baby…you shouldn’t have to take care of them. I know it’s not what you signed up for, I wouldn’t…I wouldn’t hold it against you.” His voice gets smaller and smaller until Anakin has to strain to hear him. “I can do this alone.”

He sounds as if he’s telling himself as much as he’s telling Anakin. But Anakin can’t even focus on that because his entire attention is caught by everything else Obi-Wan’s just said. Because it sounds…it sounds as if Obi-Wan is planning to stay in the city. In the apartment. Without the sire.

Alone.

As if Anakin would ever let Obi-Wan be alone, given the choice. As if Anakin would ever leave Obi-Wan to struggle through any difficulty without him.

Obi-Wan presses impossibly closer to him. “Say something,” he demands, running his nose up and down Anakin’s neck, over his scent glands, as if he expects Anakin to be able to form whole, coherent sentences when he’s doing that with his mouth.

The pregnancy must be messing with Obi-Wan’s instincts and emotions, Anakin realizes distantly. His body must know he’s not mated, that he’s about to be a visibly pregnant, unmated Omega in a dangerous city. No wonder he’s trying to cover himself so completely in Anakin’s scent. He has to wonder if Obi-Wan even understands what he’s doing. He’s never been one to try and he in touch with his Omegan side.

“Alpha,” Obi-Wan pleads, and Anakin has a second realization that it’s been ages since he’s said something. The room fills with the scent of distressed, in pain omega.

Anakin lets out an involuntary purr and tightens his hold on Obi-Wan’s body. It would be nice to look him in the eyes, but he thinks they both need as little distance between themselves as possible. “You’re going to make a great parent,” he soothes, nuzzling along Obi-Wan’s hairline. “And I’m not going to leave you unless you want me to.”

Obi-Wan stills completely as if shocked to his bones, and then he relaxes bonelessly into Anakin’s arms. This time, Anakin feels the tears as soon as they start and he goes about stroking up and down Obi-Wan’s spine again.

“I was so afraid,” Obi-Wan admits between sobs. Anakin thinks to himself privately that he definitely knows how that feels, but one of them shouldn’t be crying. “I didn’t know how to tell you—I didn’t want you to hate me for making such a stupid mistake—“

There’s nothing Obi-Wan could do to make him hate him. Sure, Anakin’s absolutely filled with hatred for whoever caught Obi-Wan’s eye on that business trip, but none of those emotions bleed over into what he feels for Obi-Wan. Not when his love is too strong and entrenched.

“Bail said you’d understand but I’m just—a mess, I don’t know what I’m doing half the time and these goddamn hormones are making me feel out of control—“ Obi-Wan continues. The fact that Bail fucking Organa found out about Obi-Wan’s pregnancy before Anakin did will drive him crazy if he lets it, so he puts that aside for now and focuses on comforting his omega.

“We’ll figure it out,” Anakin says, scenting Obi-Wan back. “It’ll be alright.”

————

A few hours later, Obi-Wan awakens from the nap he’s fallen into with a start. Anakin’s gotten no sleep, too busy drawing nonsense lines on Obi-Wan’s back and staring at the ceiling, thinking about the future. About what’s going to happen to them, around them.

No matter how much he hates the sire of the child in Obi-Wan, he already feels attached to the baby. It’s part of Obi-Wan. Maybe they’ll have his hair color or his eyes. Maybe they’ll have his compassion, his wit. Maybe they’ll let Anakin teach them how to play soccer or swim or cook.

The possibilities are endless and all of them involve Obi-Wan falling in love with him because of how amazing of a father he is to his child.

It’s not the most pressing thought in his mind, but he has to admit at least to himself that it’s there. That he’s just as in love with Obi-Wan as he was when he woke up in the morning. Now he just has another part of Obi-Wan to love: his child.

Maybe their child.

“I need to tell him,” Obi-Wan mumbles from his spot laying across Anakin’s chest. “I don’t—I don’t particularly want his involvement or, or money, but he should know. He should have the option to be in his child’s life.”

The part of Anakin who has just spent the past three hours getting used to the idea of raising Obi-Wan’s child as if he’s his own bristles at the idea of the sire being involved at all.

“Do you have his number?” Anakin asks reluctantly. He can’t imagine getting to sleep with someone as gorgeous as Obi-Wan and not trying to give him a means of keeping in contact.

But Obi-Wan shakes his head.

“His address?”

Another negative. “I…know his name and where he works.”

Anakin bares his teeth at the ceiling. “And?”

Obi-wan sounds more than a bit embarrassed. “Ah. He was the bartender at the hotel. And his name tag said Set.”

“You went to a medical conference full of alpha surgeons and researchers and you…slept with the bartender,” Anakin says blankly, before he can stop himself.

Obi-Wan huffs. It’s the most Obi-Wan response he’s given since he got home from Bail’s. “Sorry my one-night stands don’t meet your standards.”

Anakin hums. The truth is the only person who will ever meet his standards as a romantic partner for Obi-Wan is Anakin. “So what do you want to do? Call the hotel and ask for Set?”

Which, by the way, is the most pretentiously Seattle name he’s ever heard of. Set’s given name is probably, like, David and he just wanted to sound cool and grunge.

“I can’t just—this isn’t something I can say over the phone, Anakin,” Obi-Wan says. He falls silent.

“It’s mid-November,” Anakin points out. “Neither of us are hurting for money, but plane tickets are going to be astronomical until January at least. If they’re available at all.”

There’d be shitty seats available, of course, but Anakin’s not going to let his pregnant omega cram himself into an uncomfortable, smelly seat for eight hours.

“You don’t—I don’t expect you to come with me,” Obi-Wan mumbles into Anakin’s collarbone.

Anakin just manages to bite back a scoff and the urge to point out that last time Obi-Wan went off to Seattle without him, he got pregnant. Who knows what would happen if he does it again?

“Well, I’m gonna,” he says firmly. “But I think we should drive. It’ll take longer, but I’d feel much better about what you’re exposed to, not to mention how much more comfortable my car is than a coach seat. We can share a motel bed to cut costs, and—what? Why are you looking at me like that?”

Obi-Wan picks himself up off his chest to stare at him quizzically. “What if your job won’t let you take the days off? They didn’t even let you leave for the original Seattle trip and that was only a few days. We’re talking weeks here, Ani.”

Anakin sets his face into a scowl. He’s worked at the same finance firm since moving to New York, but if they won’t let him take time off for this, for Obi-Wan, he’ll quit. Simple as that. “Then I’ll go anyway and they can fire me.”

Predictably, Obi-Wan has several protests. Anakin will hear none of them. If he is fired, if he can’t find another finance job in the city that makes the same amount of money, then they’ll move out to somewhere else. He’s heard good things about Denver. And if Obi-Wan doesn’t want to move that far, maybe they can move upstate. It’ll be easier to raise a kid outside of the city anyway.

He’s not dumb enough to tell Obi-Wan this, knowing it makes him sound literally insane, but he is just stupid enough to cut Obi-Wan off and say, “you’re the most important person in my life, Obi-Wan. You….you both are.”

Hesitantly he moves his hand down to rest it gently over the slightest swell of Obi-Wan’s tummy. The omega’s breath catches in his throat, but he lets him touch.

“I’m going to be there with you, every step of the way if you’ll have me,” Anakin adds, stroking his thumb over the impossibly soft skin. Pregnant. Obi-Wan is pregnant.

It’ll take a few days more to get completely used to that idea, that’s for sure.

Obi-Wan studies his face with eyes still red-rimmed and puffy from all that crying a few hours ago. Slowly he raises his own hand to Anakin’s neck and rubs up and down his scent gland with something almost like longing in his expression. They’re so close together. Anakin would let him have anything—everything.

Everything.

“Alright,” Obi-Wan agrees with an air of strained incredulity in his voice , placing his other hand over Anakin’s on top of his abdomen. “Yes. Let’s drive to Seattle so I can tell my one-night stand that I’m carrying his child.”

Anakin nods and adds privately in his head, And so I can tell him that that kid’s gonna be mine in everything but blood and he better stay on his side of the goddamn country.

He’s not losing his family to some stupid Seattle alpha.

#asks #prompt fill #I could definitely see 2 more parts of this #part 2 the road trip #part 3 the get together where anakin meets set and is very surprised when they look identical #this was so fun and cute to write that’s why it’s 3.6k btw #squick tag: a/b/o #squick tag: mpreg #stuck between calling this the roadtrip au or the baby daddy au #baby daddy vs found father showdown fight to death au #anakin would 😌❤️#anyway this was supposed to have a lot more italics but they didn’t copy from the Google doc so when I finally get home I’ll add them #obikin #omega obi-wan kenobi #alpha anakin skywalker #roadtrip au

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nostalgiabones · 3 years

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Starting Line // L.H

It feels like SO long since I last did or posted any writing, but solo Luke has pulled me out of the woodwork! I’m so so proud of his new project and love Starting Line so much that it finally inspired me to write something. I feel like I’m a bit rusty with writing so thank you so much @calumrose and @calpops for helping me out with it! I hope you enjoy this & I would love to hear any thoughts on it!

Falling asleep next to Luke has become so normal, so part of your daily routine that when he’s not there, your body knows. The moments through the night where you’re briefly pulled from sleep for whatever reason no longer feel like disturbances when you’re met with the sight of Luke asleep next to you, instantly soothing you back to sleep. All you had to do was reach out, and he was never far away — a gentle kiss to assure you he was right there.

There’s no such sight tonight though.

The bedroom is dark, so for a moment you feel as though your eyes are tricking you, as Luke is always there. Although, there’s a small trickle of light through the room, streaming through the crack of the bedroom door, and it’s then you realise Luke must not have made it to bed yet. Petunia isn’t curled up in her bed at the far side of the room either, and you know she’s doing so in the studio down the hall.

It’s been several months since quarantine and lockdown began, and your lives have been turned upside down — forced to stay at home, tours cancelled and many, many virtual interviews taking over his life. At first Luke wrote over Zoom calls, and took his ideas into the studio when things opened up a little, but there was a constant nagging in the back of his mind that he needed something more. His mind was swirling with ideas that didn’t quite fit into what the band were doing. He’d had too much time at home, too much time to think, and he needed somewhere to put it so he could process it for himself. He’s too creative, he thinks too much — he needs an outlet.

Slipping out of bed, you grab one of Luke’s discarded hoodies, managing to put it on as you walk through the room still half asleep. It’s sometime in the early hours, but when Luke gets fixated on an idea, time is irrelevant. The light from the hall hurts your eyes, such a stark contrast from the dark bedroom. Your footsteps are quiet as you pad down the hall, not wanting to disturb him, but missing the familiar warmth of him sleeping next to you.

Standing in the doorway, he doesn’t acknowledge your presence — too focused on the keys in front of him, engrossed in what he’s playing. You faintly recognise the tune but now it has lyrics, he’s singing — and then you realise that why he’s not yet in bed. He’s hunched over the piano, his phone open next to him, assuming he’s recording little parts to play back later. There’s a lamp switched on in the corner, softening the room with a warm glow.

“I feel the walls are closing, I’m running out of time…” Luke’s tone is soft, almost like he’s mumbling, out of fear of waking you, or he’s just singing to himself. “I think I missed the gun at the starting line..”

You can just make out the words, and realise it’s purely his emotions - I feel, I think… and a part of you is relieved that he’s getting it down on paper, releasing his worries in the way he knows best. He gets too caught up in trying to understand himself sometimes, yet he avoids it too.

“Hey, rockstar,” You try to get his attention. When Luke lifts his head from the keyboard, there’s a concerned look on his face that he woke you up. There’s a smile too though, an amused one that always appears whenever you use that nickname. He gestures for you to come over, scooting along the bench of the piano so you could join him. You do — sitting as close as you could, resting your cheek on his shoulder as he wraps an arm around your back to keep you there. You wearing his clothes never gets old to him - it’s a reminder that whatever he has is also yours, that he wants to share everything with you; including whatever is on his mind. He hears you yawn and pulls you in closer, suddenly craving the feeling you came in search of, of being next to you.

“Sorry if I woke you,” Luke murmurs, his lips brushing your forehead in a silent hello. You shake your head, a free hand landing on his thigh in a reassuring gesture to say that it’s okay. “I didn’t realise what time it was.”

“You didn’t,” You reply, voice hoarse from the few hours of sleep that you did get. “I always wake up when you’re not next to me. You okay? That song sounds kinda sad.”

He laughs a little, looking at his phone to make sure he’s stopped the voice recording. “It’s not meant to be sad, more... reflective. It’s only acoustic so far, but I think I’ve got the lyrics down.”

He softly plays a few keys as you sit there, the gentle sound in combination with Luke humming under his breath next to you already sending you back to sleep. “You gonna send it to Ash to help out with the drums? Or are you leaving it acoustic?”

Luke hums thoughtfully, almost like he’s reluctant to tell you the answer — whether he’s sure he wants to say it out loud, because that makes it real. “I actually wasn’t going to involve them in this one.”

And there it is.

You had wondered if he’d ever go down this road himself, remembering how he had been inspired by Ashton’s solo works. Luke has been tied to the band since his early teens, he’s grown up in the band and barely had time to breathe until the last few months at home. You know he’s happy with the songs he’s written with the guys so far, but had the feeling he was wanting something a little more.

“How come?” You prompt, and even though you have an idea, you want to hear it from him.

“I just feel like I need to make sense of a lot of things,” He explains, almost as if he’s convincing himself too. “Having all this time at home has made me think about myself and who I am compared with who I used to be, and I need somewhere to work it out. I figured music is the best way to do that.”

He expects a bigger reaction from you, like it’s something so out of the norm that you’d question if he’s doing the right thing — but you don’t. You nod, and take one of his hands in yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze, to ease the nerves you sense he has.

“Well, you said it’s reflective, and what better time to reflect than when the world is at a standstill? I know you can create something amazing.” You assure him, the words whispered against his shoulder, and it’s all the convincing he needs. “Trust yourself, Luke. You’re way more talented than what you give yourself credit for.”

He’s quiet for a moment, his cheek resting on your head, just basking in the silence for a little while. As soon as he started to write this song there had been a nagging feeling at the back of his mind, that he wanted to keep it just for himself — he wanted to pour some of his anxieties into a song in the hopes of learning more about himself.

“You don’t think the guys will be offended, that I want to work on something for myself?” He asks you tentatively, and you know he already knows the answer to that.

You shake your head. “God, no, Luke. You were all very supportive of Ashton when he did Superbloom, why would it be any different for you? You know they’ll have your back no matter what. You’re best friends before anything else. You should talk to them about it, it’ll ease your mind.”

He hums in acknowledgement, a comforted smile on his lips at your words.

“Do you want to hear some more?” He asks, and you don’t even need to give him an answer. You murmur a reassurance of “of course” and he picks up again, feeling more certain of his craft now that he knows he has your support. He never doubted that you wouldn’t support him in whatever he wanted to do, but he thinks too much — he struggles to make sense of his thoughts, and it prompts him even more to want to create art from it.

You can already see how much it means to him, how he’s poured his heart into the lyrics he’s managed to put together. Throughout your relationship, you’ve gotten better at observing his feelings, and you know this is important to him. There’s pages full of scribbled lyrics in front of him, his hair is messy from running his fingers through it every time had gotten frustrated, and it’s clear he was determined to get something out of this song.

“Tell me, am I broken? I can never leave, biting on my tongue and checking if it bleeds,” He sings, the words clearer now he’s not in fear of waking you and of the words itself. “Is it lost on me? All the things I believe.”

It’s like he’s questioning himself with the lyrics as he sings, and as your eyes glance over the sheet in front of you, you notice a whole page of different thoughts and questions about everything — himself, his life and the band. All things that play on his mind constantly that he usually doesn’t have the time (or he occupies himself to avoid) to think about, all coming to the surface now the world is on pause.

“Take me alive, don’t look away until it’s gone, til it’s gone..”

Luke plays a few keys at the end before he turns to you, your face hidden against his shoulder. His fingertips brush your cheek before he lifts your face to look at him, and he’s not sure whether to smile or not when he’s met with unshed tears lining your eyes.

“Baby,” He murmurs, leaning in to nudge his nose against yours, his thumb softly brushing the first tear away as he slides down your cheek. “What’s with the tears?”

“That song is really beautiful,” You reply, sniffling to try and contain your emotions a little. He brushes his lips against yours in a sweet kiss, a sign of both his love and gratitude — and if just the first song has that affect on you, he knows he needs to pursue what’s in his heart. “It’s so pure, and so you. And I can’t wait to see what else you come up with.”

He feels like crying at your words and doesn’t know how to thank you enough for how supported you make him feel, no matter what he’s doing. “I love you, honey. Thanks for being on this journey with me.”

“Where else would I be?”

And when he finally makes it to bed, with you in his arms and a full heart, he’s content — he knows what he needs to pursue, and with you by his side, he knows he can do anything.

Don’t look away until it’s gone.

***

So there we are! I’d love to hear any feedback, I feel like I’m out of practice at writing lmao 🥺 Also I’m starting a new taglist, so if you’d like to be added to my new one, please fill out this Google form!

Masterlist

Taglist: @irwinkitten @wildflowergrae @luckyduckydoo @letstaketheups-and-downs @jazzyangel242 @cashworthy @babylon-corgis @norawashere @monsteramongmikey @late-nightdevil @maluminspace @fluffsshawn @xhaileyreneex @flowerthug @calpops @youngblood199456 @wokeupinjapanisabop @banditocth @cashtonasfuck @5-secondsofcolor @g-l-pierce @monsteramongmgc @calmlftv @mantlereid @treatallwithkindness @another-lonely-heart @calumrose @inlovehoodx @mermaidcashton @everydayimfangirling @b-easybreezy @ilumxna @malumsmermaid @opheliaaurora23 @talkfastromance4 @zhangyixingxing1 @everyscarisahealingplace @mateisit-balsamic @saphseoul @suchalonelysunflower @findingliam-o @castaway-cashton @megz1985 @notinthesameguey @calumscalm @karajaynetoday @metalandboybands @littledrummeraussie @vxlentinecal @itjustkindahappenedreally @queenalienscherrypie @xxxstormyninixxx @chicken-ona-stick @hoodhoran @harrys-shrooms @midnightash

#reblogs mean so much 🥺 it’s been a while!#luke hemmings blurbs #boyfriend!5sos blurbs #boyfriend 5sos blurbs #boyfriend!sos blurbs #luke hemmings fics #luke hemmings au #mywriting #myblurbs #boyfriend!luke #lhblurb #domestic 5sos blurbs #boyfriend!luke blurbs #boyfriend!luke blurb #5sos blurbs #5sos blurb #5sos fics

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kippykasey · 3 years

Text

Grace - Chapter 5: Hydra

Pairing: Howard Stark x F!Reader , Bucky x Reader [Eventually]

Word Count: 3522

Series Summary: A young nurse is recruited by Dr. Abraham Erskine to join the SSR to assist on Project Rebirth. Following her work with the SSR she is drafted into the US Army Nurse Corps in the war against the Nazis...and HYDRA.

Chapter Warnings: violence, torture, bad things because Hydra

Author's Note: Surprise?! I wasn't even expecting to get this done but I literally just finished and thought, eh why not. So here it is! Also I hate hurting my characters so this was a bit eh to write but I hope all is well!

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the gifs they are either found on google or under the gif tag provided by tumblr. Any language other than English was translated using Google Translator, and translations will be posted in bolden italics after. I am not a nurse or in the medical field although I may do some research medical treatment written may not be correct.

Grace Masterlist | Snowdrop Masterlist | Masterlist

Pain. A throbbing, harsh pain echoed through my head from the temple. The throbbing beat opposite that of my heart. The second thing I noticed was how cold and damp it was. After battling with my body to force open my eyes I squint through the dimly lit room. A deep voice spoke in another language… German it was German but my head hurt too much for me to understand it. Seconds passed before I realized that I was sitting on the ground in a cell. The door opened and two men walked in flanked by four additional soldiers than the one that had been watching me.

“Ah Fräulein (L/n) glad you have finally woken up.” Miss.

“Who are you?” I cursed how weak my voice sounded at that moment. Though the man didn’t seem to find me a threat of escape as he spoke. “Johann Schmidt. You see we have a common acquaintance… or, well, had.” The grin he wore made my stomach drop and he didn’t need to verbally admit it for me to realize this is the man behind Abraham’s death.

I raised my head in defiance and although it made the pounding in my head worsen I pushed myself from the ground and stood within the cell. “You’re after the serum.”

“Ah, clever girl. You were Abraham’s assistant when he made the serum.” The second, much shorter man spoke. “Fault in your plans. I don’t know how to make the serum.” Schmidt smiled at me and it took all my self control not to shiver from his intense look. “I was hoping you would say that,” His eyes turned off me to the soldiers. “Bring sie zum Stuhl. Probiere es an ihr aus. Vielleicht wird ein kleiner Elektroschock Ihr Gedächtnis auffrischen.” Take her to the chair. Try it out on her. Perhaps a bit of electroshock will refresh your memory. As Schmidt talked his head also turned towards the shorter man.

I could feel the blood drain from my face as I moved back against the wall. Three soldiers stepped towards the cell. One man opened the cell door before the other two stepped inside to detain me. I managed to elbow one in the face in my struggle but it was useless. The two soldiers dragged me from the cell, out of the room into a brighter lit hall. We were in some kind of warehouse. My eyes zeroed in on a chair that looked right out of a nightmare. Stronger hands forced me into the hard chair and held me down while I was struggling against someone’s attempts to strap me in. My struggling did nothing but get me a slap to the face. The strength of the slap disoriented me long enough for them to strap me in.

The shorter man who followed us now stood next to my head. I could see the reflection of myself in his glasses. “This is only going to hurt a lot, try to hold still.” He instructs lowering two plates down around my face. It was only a few short moments before the electricity forced its way into my head. I had no control over my body as it thrashed in the confines of the chair. An agonizing scream of pain carrying throughout the building went ignored.

That wasn’t my first time in the chair but it was the only time I had passed out in the chair. Spent 30 minutes in the chair 3 times a day, sometimes longer. After a week I had to start muttering things to myself in my cell so I didn’t forget who I was. The Nazi soldiers gave me the bare minimum to survive as far as water and nutrients goes. I cracked halfway through October. I gave the short scientist, Armin Zola, the list of what I would need before I was taken back to my cell after yet another time in the cell. I was given parchment and a pencil to write things down with but it kept coming in flashes.

Nights were the worst. Mouth dry from lack of water, eyes trained on an iron grate in the ceiling. I realized two weeks into my daily chair visits that I had forgotten my brother’s name. When I noticed it caused me to cry to sleep that night. So whenever I could I would mutter to myself facts I could remember starting with my name, rank, and where I was from. The list of facts got shorter every day. Somedays I remembered more than others. There were times all I could bring myself to do was hum Amazing Grace to myself to deal with the pain.

The first time I was in the lab I tried to escape. I was left with just one guard and I thought I could take him. I smashed a beaker using a shard like a knife. I ended up knocked unconscious, my hand bleeding from the self inflicted cuts caused by the makeshift weapon. From then on I was chained to the lab table and three soldiers kept watch. I wasn’t given anything to test the serum on. So I never tested unless I thought it would work because I used myself as a test subject.

I was unconscious for two days once from a failed serum. Others cause excruciating pain. Days came and went and I lost count of days but I knew it was still October. Yet a month was close to passing as November began to be discussed amongst soldiers around me. Pressure was placed on me to recreate the serum. Each day if I didn’t recreate the serum I was sent to the chair for the torturous electroshock. That is how I figured out I had been successful in a recreation. The serum, when tested, did nothing but make me drop to the lab floor in pain. I wasn’t even given time to recollect myself before being dragged off to the chair. I lasted longer in the chair than usual. I heard the instruction to increase the power. I don’t remember what happened after that.

It took me nearly half a day to recover, then as soon as I had I was back working in the lab. Suddenly I was pulled away from my work and escorted quickly back to my cell. “Neue Soldaten wurden gefangen genommen.” New soldiers have been captured. I pressed myself up against the bars for a chance, a glimpse at the soldiers being brought in.

It was silent as the Nazi Hydra soldiers dealt with the new poisoners. Suddenly two soldiers appeared with smiles on their faces. “Komm Mädchen. Zola und Schmidt wollen dich sehen.” Come girl. Zola and Schmidt want to see you. The soldiers yanked me up and practically dragged me to the room where the chair was. My body trembled involuntarily at the sight of the chair. It wasn’t me going in the chair, given someone was strapped in but given the uniform he was American. “Ah, here iz our lovely nurse. You’ve been asking for a test subject. Here you go.” Schmidt waved at the man strapped into the chair. The man lifted his head just barely and my heart went out to him. As soon as the hands left my arms I moved to the soldier in the chair. “What’s your name, soldier?”

“S’rg’nt Jam’s Barn’s,” His voice wasn’t clear but it was clear enough for me to understand what he said. The nurse turned to Zola and Schmidt. “I wasn’t done recreating the serum when you had me pulled from the lab. I will need time to work and he needs time to rest or the serum will kill him.” I tried to give him whatever comfort I could in those brief moments before we were pulled apart. His head rose just slightly and I caught a glimpse of stormy blue eyes as he was dragged out of the room.

I never got to return to my cell that night. As my eyes zoned in on the blue chemical mixture in front of me I felt a haze cloud my mind, it wasn’t abnormal to experience but I also felt like I was losing myself when it happened. Following my own written instructions I was able to continue my work. The only other thing I forced my mind to remember were two things.

I am First Lieutenant (Y/n) (L/n) of the US Army Nurse Corps. Soldier boy is Sergeant James Barnes.

The words became a mantra in the blank canvas my mind was currently in as I blindly worked by instructions of my very own that I don’t even remember writing. My body moved on auto pilot as I was taken to a crude looking examination room. In the center was soldier boy Sergeant James Barnes strapped to the table. As my mind raced to catch up with me, flashes of memories clouded my mind from when Steve Rogers got the serum, the explosion that followed, Dr. Erskine being shot. My body tensed at a passing memory of being in the chair passed through being replaced by the pain I felt giving myself the serum.

A hand pressed firmly in between my shoulder blades pushing me forward. I stumbled to the table catching myself with a hand on his arm. Wasn’t he wearing an army jacket before? My eyes landed on the serum filled syringe in my hands reminding me of what I was about to do. “First lieutenant (Y/n) (F/n) of the US Army Nurse Corps.. You are Sergeant James Barnes.. I’m sorry for what I am about to do. You’ll be okay. I’ve used it on myself. It will hurt.” My voice sounded so… robotic and monotone as I spoke to him. My hands pushing up his sleeve.

My hands worked from memory and out of second nature my mouth moved and the hymn fell from my lips. The melody of the song was the only comfort I could offer as I injected the poor man with the serum that would change his life forever. His eyes looked up at mine until the pain of the serum changing his body caused them to shut tightly. The leather restraints holding him in began to rip as he pulled against them. Discarding the empty syringe I tried to soothe him more but the second my hand touched his head I was shot with a sedative.

【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】

Steve Rogers has dressed up performing on stage like a dancing monkey to sell war bonds since he was given the serum. His first time on foreign grounds and he was performing for soldiers he should have been fighting alongside of. All to be booed off the stage by disgruntled men who just wanted to see a pretty dame.

Steve finally looked away from the rain but not quite at Peggy, “At least he’s got me doing this. Phillips would have had me stuck in a lab.” Blue eyes finally met the face of Agent Carter. “And these are your only two options? A lab rat or a dancing monkey? You were meant for more than this, you know.” Her wording might have been a bit rude but the point got across. There was a moment of silence between the two but Steve had this look to him. “What?” Peggy inquired.

The man was drawing in the rain when a familiar face popped up. “Hello, Steve.” Peggy Carter approached him from behind, making him turn from his drawing to greet her, “Hi.” She mimed his ‘hi’ back before laying her jacket down to sit on while Steve asked, “What are you doing here?” Peggy looked at Rogers and let out a small sigh, “Officially, I’m not here at all. That was quite a performance.”

Rogers looked away disappointed that she had caught the horrible show that happened earlier. “Yeah. I uh, I had to improvise a little bit. The crowds I’m used to are usually more, uh, twelve.” Steve explained looking out at the drenched ground and falling rain. “I understand you’re ‘America’s New Hope’.” Peggy states watching him. “Bond sales take a 10% bump in every state I visit.” Steve comments like a robot. “Is that Senator Brandt I hear?”

“You know for the longest time, I dreamed about coming overseas and being on the front lines, serving my country. I finally got everything I wanted and I’m wearing tights.” Steve kept looking down at his journal then squinting out through the rain. A horn alarmed behind them as a medical vehicle slid to a stop in the mud. Medics ran from the infirmary tent to help unloaded soldiers on gurneys. “They look like they’ve been through hell.” Peggy turned back towards Rogers. “These men more than most.” Steve looked up at Peggy knowing she had more details. “Schmidt sent out a force to Azzano. Two hundred men were there to back up an already injured fleet, they went up against him and less than 75 returned. Your audience contained what was left of the 107th and 34th.” Steve slowly turned his head feeling bad for the men who were lost but his attention snapped to Peggy at the mention of the divisions involved as she finished, “The rest were killed or captured.”

“The 107th?” The confirmation had him darting out into the rain, Peggy following holding her jacket over her head for coverage from the rain. The two ran all the way to the tent Colonel Phillips was sitting in signing condolence letters. “Colonel Phillips.” Steve called for the man’s attention as he approached. “Well, if it isn’t the Star-Spangled Man With A Plan. What is your plan today?” The colonel responded looking up at the pair now standing in front of him. “I need the casualty list from Azzano.” The tone he used was definitely fitting for the role he plays on stage. Phillips however did not appreciate it. “You don’t get to give me orders, son.”

“I just need one name, Sergeant James Barnes from the 107th.” Rogers responded un phased. Phillips pointed his pen at Peggy, “You and I are gonna have a conversation later that you won’t enjoy.” Steve was insistent though and again requested the information he wanted, “Please tell me if he’s alive, sir. B-A-R..” “I can spell.” Phillips cut him off before muttering, “First Stark and now this.” He stood from the table and paged through the letters he just finished signing. “I have signed more of these condolence letters today that I would care to count. But the name does sound familiar. I’m sorry. To the both of you.” Phillips looks from Rogers to Peggy and the woman knew he was referring to her friend from the 34th.”

“What about the others? Are you planning a rescue mission?” Rogers was something else, optimistic maybe. “Yeah, it’s called winning the war.” The look of disbelief that Steve sent the colonel as he spoke might have been the first red flag for Peggy Carter. “But if you know where they are, why not at least..” Phillips once again cut the man off, “They’re 30 miles behind the lines through some of the most heavily fortified territory in Europe.” Phillips was eyeing the spot on the map as he talked about it, even pointing the place out directly. “We’d lose more men than we’d save. But I don’t expect you to understand that because you’re a chorus girl.”

The colonels' dig at Roger’s lack of status didn’t seem to phase the man but it did fuel the plan he was formulating in his head while staring at the map, memorizing it. “I think I understand just fine.”

“Well, then understand it somewhere else. If I read the posters correctly, you got someplace to be in 30 minutes.” The colonel walked past him giving Rogers a very clear view of the map marking out exactly where he needed to go, and where he was. “Yes, sir. I do.” Perhaps the time staring at the map was the second red flag that Peggy noticed. As her eyes flickered between him and the map as he left the tent it all clicked into place and she hurried after the taller man.

“What do you plan to do, walk to Austria?” Peg asked as she entered the tent used as the changing room. “If that’s what it takes.” Steve answered not looking up from where he was struggling with boots. “You heard the Colonel. Your friend, and mine, are most likely dead.”

“You don’t know that.” Steve disagreed as he continued to get ready. “Even so, he’s devising a strategy. If he detects..” Steve cut her off as he put on a brown leather jacket, “By the time he’s done that, it could be too late.” He snatched up his bag and shield and headed for the exit. “Steve!” Peggy called following him to the vehicle he tossed his things into. The rain had stopped leaving the sun to rapidly evaporate the water leaving puffs of smoke in the air. Steve looked at the brunette in front of him. “You told me you thought I was meant for more than this. Did you mean that?”

“Every word.”

“Then you got to let me go.” Steve turned to get into the jeep and started the engine before Peggy was at the side. “I can do more than that.” She told him.

【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】

Peggy hadn’t lied. She got them a method of transport much faster than the jeep. Howard Stark sat in the pilot seat flying a plane with the slight chance his fiancée may still be alive. Stark was devastated when he first found out that the 34th was attacked and that only doubled when the attack at Azzano took out the 107th as well.

“The Hydra camp is in Krausberg, tucked between these two mountain ranges.” Peggy infomed Rogers as she pointed to the map she was holding. “It’s a factory of some kind.” She gave him as much information as she could. “We should be able to drop you right on the doorstep.” Howard called over his shoulder.

“Just get me as close as you can.” Steve called back up to the pilot. He looked back over at the woman in front of him. “You know.. You two are gonna be in a lot of trouble when you land.” He was worried about her getting into trouble for him but she looked at him just as worried. “And you won’t?” Steve dismissed her worries, turning his head. “Where I’m going, if anyone yells at me, I can just shoot them.” There was a small click of a loaded gun.

“They will undoubtedly shoot back.” Peggy surmised. Steve turned to the shield he had been using on stage giving it a knock, “Well let's hope it’s good for something.” Steve turned back to her just as Howard called back, “Agent Carter? If we’re not in too much of a hurry, I thought we could stop off in Lucerne for a late-night fondue.” Howard was teasing the agent, the smile on his face hidden from those being him. Peggy shifted in her seat choosing to ignore him and keep conversation going with Rogers. “Stark is the best civilian pilot I’ve ever seen. He’s mad enough to brave this airspace. We’re lucky to have him.”

Steve however was still not fully over the comment Stark made. “So, are you two… do you…” There was an awkward pause as Steve thought of the proper way to ask if they were seeing each other by reusing Stark’s words, “..Fondue?” Stark tried not to laugh from the pilot’s seat as Peggy simply shook her head and handed him a device. “This is your transponder. Activate it when you’re ready and the signal will lead us straight to you.” Steve took a moment to look at the device now in his hand before calling up to Howard, “Are you sure this thing works?”

“It’s been tested more than you, pal.” Howard defended seconds before gunfire hit the side of the plane. The plane shook as bullets pelted the sides, shaking the aircraft from the force. Steve stood grabbing his shield and heading towards the door. That he opened. “Get back here! We’re taking you all the way in!” Peggy ordered yelling over the wind rushing into the plane. “As soon as I’m clear, you turn this thing around and get the hell out of here!” Steve ordered back over the noise of the wind, gunfire, and the pinging of bullets on the plane.

“You can’t give me orders!” Peggy disagreed.

“The hell I can’t! I’m a Captain!” Steve looked over at her, giving her a smile that made her weak in the knees. He grabbed the goggles from his helmet, lowered them over his eyes and launched himself out of the plane. Peggy watched him fall towards the ground before the red fabric of his parachute was visible in the night sky from the flying bullets. Howard turned back as instructed by the Captain. Now all they could do was wait.

#grace #howard x reader #bucky x reader #catfa #bucky barnes #steve rogers #peggy carter #howard stark #female reader

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ledbiantastic · 3 years

Text

Okay, it's time for my Harrow The Ninth read through post. Spoilers, obviously. Thanks to @shakespearerants, @irascibubble, and @mayasaura for encouraging me to keep going. Enjoy!

I am on page 33 of Harrow the Ninth and I am making a prediction. I initially thought the Body referred to the dead girl in the locked tomb, but now I think it's Gideon. We'll see if I'm right.

Page 44 says it is the dead girl in the tomb, but I'm not convinced it isn't also Gideon

Gideon must be important to have to be erased from Harrow's mind like that, right?

Did Ortus the First kill/try to kill Gideon's mom? The timeline adds up, they said he messed something up nineteen years ago, Gideon was 18 in the last book and time has passed

In the weird retconned memories, after every death, or during, someone says "is this how it happens" which makes me think it's, like, Harrow's brain asking that

Who are those notes from and to? What's up with that?

I love seeing Harrow spend time with Magnus and Abigail. I liked them

If Harrow is haunted, but this is not the real version of the past, is her mind creating the ghost? Is it Gideon? I don't think Gideon would write notes like that though...

Page 291 is Ortus talking to her like she's Gideon's mother? IS HE ASKING WHY SHE BROUGHT ALONG THE BABY?

Is Ortus' cavalier more active or something? Like he doesn't remember because she takes control?

Page 315 "he had seen me" who is he and who is me? Who is narrating this to Harrowhark? Is. It. Gideon? (Later I decide it's Palamedes seeing the Sleeper, who is also narrating and is possibly Gideon. We'll see if that's right.)

Is the poster on page 318 Gideon? Is It? IS IT? But Gideon's hair didn't go down to her shoulders. Is it her mom?

Are Camilla and Coronabeth on the side of the rebellion? BOE? Is old Harrow? I KNEW IT! But I'm sad they're on different sides.

Is Ianthe the spy? Is that how she knew Coronabeth was alive?

Does the Sleeper represent the part of Harrow and/or her brain that erased her memories and it's cleaning up the debris in her psyche? OR IS IT GIDEON? AKA the DORMANT part of Harrow-as-Lyctor? When the Sleeper is unmasked, will we see Harrow or Gideon?

Did Gideon's mother start the rebellion or something? Is that why they had a poster of her? Was she Eden?

So, Canaan house was on earth then?

Did Harrow (old Harrow) tamper with her own temporal lobe? Did Mercymorn? Ianthe?

Whose idea was it for Ortus to kill her then? John? Augustine? Mercymorn? Someone else?

Did Harrow break into the locked tomb? I want to believe she did, because I support her. But if not, who is the Body?

Shit, I can't remember what color Gideon's eyes were. Page 363 when Harrow's eyes are two different colors, black and gold

Ianthe wants to marry Harrow? Weird. I don't ship it. But I'm kind of stuck on Gideon and if I wasn't, maybe.

See a man about a queen? What does it mean? What is Ianthe doing? Also love that she cursed Harrow's hair to grow extra, just to be petty.

I'm so confused by chapter 40. What the hell is going on? Why is Harrow trying to be a cavalier? The fuck? Role swapped false memory? What is even happening?

Is Harrowhark's brain just, like, randomly spit-balling while she's dying or something? Love that Abigail and Magnus seem to be aware that it's not real.

OH OH OH THAT WAS GIDEON! SERVING THE COFFEE AND MAKING HARROW BLUSH IN THE THIRD(?) FALSE MEMORY OR DREAM OR WHATEVER! I love that Abigail is NOT having this, like, no I'm not gonna watch your romance novel version unfold.

I think I've noticed that the ones who have speaking roles the weird memories are the ones who died in the last book.

Are they all taking active part in these false scenarios? All the dead from Canaan house?

Oh my god oh my god here it is she remembers and she's so sad!

So she erased Gideon to save her soul. Nope nope nope nope nope I can't. I can't deal with these feelings. Y.Y

Who the fuck is the angry spirit?!?!

Who fucking stabbed her?

IS GIDEON DRIVING HARROW'S FUCKING BODY AROUND DURING A FIGHT? HELL YES! AND THAT MEANS I WAS RIGHT THAT SHE'S NARRATING!

OH AND I PREDICT THE GHOST IS CYTHERIA!

I'm still thinking about what Harrow did. It's so sweet and so sad and she's so lonely and she didn't even know how lonely she was.

Also I'm already excited to reread this series.

Oh yeah, this is GIDEON in here, swearing up a storm and trying to use a sword.

Okay, first I'm getting emotional just from heading Gideon's voice, then I'm emotional about what it was like for her to be in Harrow's body/mind, then I'm emotional about all the things she wanted to say but didn't have time, AND THEN I'M EMOTIONAL when Gideon says why she thinks Harrow did it and I'm like baby nooooooo it was because she loved you, not because she didn't want to rely on you! Honey, baby, no!

"Harrowhark, I gave you my whole life and you didn't even want it." HARROWHARK, I GAVE YOU MY WHOLE LIFE AND YOU DIDN'T EVEN WANT IT. 💔💔💔😟😟😟😭😭😭 Excuse me while my heart breaks.

Oh, also a bigger issue in this book is the whole concept of the afterlife? And it's messed up because of the emperor? I don't know why I wasn't prepared for that but I wasn't.

Ortus holding Harrow and pointing out that she and Gideon were neglected children is making my therapist soul ascend.

I'm such an idiot. His name wasn't Ortus, it was Gideon. He did kill Gideon's mother, that's why she shouted his name. Or they were in love? One or the other... Or both?

Harrow did a find and replace in her brain and it had unexpected consequences.

I've been leaning more and more towards the Sleeper and ghost being Cytheria.

Oh my sweet sword lesbian himbo, how I've missed you. "The sword I had to hold overhead in one hand as I used the other to keep everything inside you; stuff was coming out, Harrow, I don't know precisely what stuff because I'm not a goddamn necromancer."

Gideon is OCCUPYING HARROW'S BODY during a deadly invasion and is like, 'I'm gonna shut my eyes to reach under the shirt and get rid of encumbrances. I tried not to touch you, so don't get mad.' I feel like Harrow would be the first one to say 'do whatever you have to do to stay alive, you imbecile!'

So Mercymorn stabbed Harrow... So the heralds would eat her as a way to buy time? Was that the plan? Gideon calling her "my necromancer" made my heart do a thing.

I want to understand what she's saying about Gideon's mother. Was Gideon a science experiment? Like Kipo?

Where. THE FUCK did Cytheria get the gun?

Dulcie is *horny for revenge* Abigail is a BAMF and my new (and final?) prediction is that the Sleeper is Gideon's mom.

Gideon and Ianthe is a fun dynamic. I love how protective Gideon is, that she's mad at Ianthe for hurting Harrow's heart.

Gideon must have her mother's eyes to be freaking all the lyctors the fuck out.

"I wanted you to use me... I wanted you to live and not die... Harrow. I already gave my flesh to you, and I already gave you my end. I gave you my sword. I gave you myself. I did it while knowing I'd do it all again, without hesitation, because all I ever wanted you to do was eat me." Why am I crying? 😭😭😭😭😭 Why is this the most romantic thing when it's also full of insults and curses and is followed by a your mom joke? What a Gideon thing to do, be so romantic and gross and sassy all at once. I love her, I want to be her. Gideon forever.

Love that Ianthe also thinks Harrow got rid of Gideon because she didn't want her. /s I'm starting to worry that it's silly for me to hold onto the 'because she can't live without Gideon' explanation.'

"But Nonagesimus, you hating me always meant more than anyone else in this hot and stupid universe loving me. At least I'd had your full attention." That's why indifference is the opposite of love, hate is still passionate attention. But this also makes me feel so bad for Gideon because she deserves to be loved, dammit!

Okay, "gall on gall" is pretty hilarious. Good job Ianthe.

Love that the ghost of Matthias Nonius speaks in meter because he's been so deified by the Ninth house, and he's confused by it. It's like people in a musical being aware they're in a musical, like, why am I singing?

Ortus' poem was important after all!

Is it the sword? Does Harrow have to destroy Gideon's sword? Because that would break my heart a little.

"It bewildered her, back at Canaan House, how the whole of her always seemed to come back to Gideon. For one brief and beautiful space of time, she has welcomed it: that microcosm of eternity between forgiveness and the slow uncomprehending agony of the fall. Gideon rolling up her shirt sleeves. Gideon dappled in shadow, breaking promises. One idiot with a sword and an asymmetrical smile had proved to be Harrow's end." I just... This is so beautifully written. And describing Gideon as one idiot with a sword is so perfect and right and I just... 🖤🖤🖤😭😭😭

No no no I hate this either/or bullshit! I know I'm a sappy optimist, but I want both of them to survive, damnit! I want Harrow to be able to go back to her body without losing Gideon's soul. I want Gideon to keep existing.

What does Dulcinea know?!?!

Commander? That's Gideon's mom, right? Awake Remembrance of These Valiant Dead Kia Hua Ko Te Pai Snap Back to Reality Oops There Goes Gravity

What does that all mean? Are those Eminem lyrics? What other language is in there?

WHAT'S ALL COME OUT?

I knew she was in the sword.

Oh my god, if you need John to get in the tomb, and she was trying to get in the tomb and had something, a tool... Samples... She was armed with the baby... Is Gideon's father John? Is Gideon the fucking child of God?

She named the baby Bomb... This whole series could have been Bomb the Ninth... Bomb Nav...

Yep yep called it, child of God. The first time they put that plan in action was to get sperm to make Gideon. The second time was so Harrow could kill the first Gideon.

A dad joke?! A DAD JOKE?!

Gideon and Harrow were so cruel to each other as kids. It just makes me so sad.

Was Harrow able to get into the tomb because she made Gideon bleed?

So is Alecto John's cavalier? Annabel and Alecto... Are the same person? I'm so confused. She's the body in the locked tomb? But how is that related to her eyes being in his genes?

Wait, the eyes switched? I continue to be confused. Did he do the lyctor thing but also put a part of both him and his cavalier into the cavalier's body? But she was never human? What's going on? Why do they think she never had genes?

Oh cool, Mercy killed God and now everyone's gonna die... ... ... Ooooor not.

I love that beating up Harrow is Gideon's job AND saving Harrow is Gideon's job. Very cute.

Sooooo Gideon the OG and Pyrrha both fucked Gideon's mom... With the same body...

Gideon, such a romantic, wishing she had Harrow's name on her lips as she died. "I mean, yeah, I was thinking about you too; if I could've turned that off I would've turned it off years ago" HAHAHAHAHA You can't stop thinking about Harrow even if you want to! God, what a sweet himbo.

"Yes, well, jail for mother" says Gideon... Is she referencing Miette? Jail for mother for one thousand years!

Okay, so we have definitely confirmed that the Body is Alecto/Annabel/God's cavalier.

What did Dulcinea tell her? That Gideon is moving her body around? Doesn't she know that? Shouldn't that not be a surprise?

Okay, so, wait, what happened to Harrowhark?

ARRRRRGH I'm not smart enough for this book! Or I'm not visual enough! I know I should recognize the description of bobbed hair and "lambent" eyes but I have no idea who it is and also WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED TO GIDEON AND HARROWHARK?! UGH NOW I HAVE TO WAIT FOR THE NEXT BOOK AND I'M GONNA BE SO IMPATIENT AND CONFUSED!

Well that was fun to reread. Impressed I got some things right, but mostly I was very wrong.

#harrow the ninth #spoilers #locked tomb spoilers #locked tomb trilogy #doing my best #lesbians are just so good #disaster lesbian #it's me i'm the disaster lesbian here #i love this himbo #himbo gideon nav #live blogging #abigail pent #dulcinea septimus #ianthe the first #long post

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maomao-words · 4 years

Note

Hi there! Will you be okay writing a hc of the MLQC boys finding out that MC self harms and then help her with her depression? I get that Depression and Self Harm are sensitive topics, so if you are not comfortable, I'd understand too !

Hey, dear! I have written for several fandoms so far and each time a request such as yours comes to me I always feel terrified of writing it for the fear of it coming off as mocking or trivializing depression.

Depression is not an easy topic to write about and I absolutely do not wish to offend anyone with this. But when I think of the possibility of these HCs somehow making someone, anyone, out there feel a little bit better about themselves, I always decide to write them even if it is out of my comfort zone.

Just few words of serious warning here. I am not an expert on mental illnesses nor am I a doctor. Although I am not exactly mentally healthy myself, I have never been diagnosed with depression either. I will try my best to make this as accurate as possible, based on my readings, my own experience and my friends’ struggles.

So, please, do not hesitate to tell me if something is erroneous or can potentially offend or trigger anyone who has depression and I will immediately take this post down, you have my word.

The purpose of these HCs will be to heal and to comfort and NOT to belittle or mock depression. For all of you out there, who are battling with depression, you are real warriors and I pray to God you never stop fighting. Keep clinging to hope and never be ashamed to seek out help.

Trigger Warning: Depression, mentions of self-harm.

MLQC Boys helping an MC who self-harms and is struggling with depression:

Victor:

Victor knew from the start. He noticed the abnormal long sleeves in extremely hot days, noticed the unconscious tug you give their hems each time you think they are going to expose your skin and noticed the way your eyes violently tremble each time his touch gets too intimate. Victor knew something was wrong, knew that you were hiding a secret from him, but he never pressured you to say a word. He wanted you to come to him by your own free will and tell him what you were holding back whenever you felt ready and comfortable enough to do so. Only when your face got so much pale, your eyes grew empty and hallow, your appetite for food almost disappeared and your sleeves got longer and longer until they reached the tips of your fingers that Victor finally spoke to you.

It was during a late dinner date in Souvenir when Victor broke the silence with a quiet “How can I help?” spoken in a whisper. He didn’t want you to push yourself to speak nor did he want an explanation for the thin cuts scattered across your wrists. Victor simply wanted to help. In any way, in any form, using whatever means he had. If you wished for his own life, Victor would give it away for you, without as much as blinking an eye. Victor just doesn’t you to shut him out. He will not judge you or scorn you, nor ask you to “fix” yourself. Victor fell in love with a human; a human with abilities and flaws, strength and weakness and he will accept her as she is.

Victor will be there for you each step of the way. If you choose to seek professional help, be sure he will arrange to you the most talented psychiatrist out there no matter which country they reside in and makes sure that you are comfortable enough with them. Rest assured, Victor’s behavior will not undergo any major changes even if you choose to tell him all about the demons residing in your head or lift up your sleeves to show him your scars. He will continue you to treat you in the same way since he does not consider you to be any different. In his eyes, you’re the same dummy he fell in love with. It doesn’t matter for him that at certain days, you would feel too empty to even get up from the bed or too tired to brush your messy hair or drink your coffee. It does not matter for him if at days you feel incredibly happy and smile so brightly before suddenly sinking into darkness and sobbing your heart out to him. None of this matters because Victor will be there in any case, every day, whether good or bad, and will kiss you good morning, insult your bed hair before threading his fingers through it, tenderly kissing its ends.

No matter which path you choose to walk, Victor will be there for you. He did not fall in love with you to force you to wear a mask or pretend to be happy when all you want to do is scream your heart out. Victor fell in love with you because you are clumsy, spontaneous, strong, vulnerable, fierce and weak all together. You deserve to be loved for who you truly are, and Victor will make sure to do exactly that.

Gavin:

The blood. He needed to stop the blood.

Visiting your apartment on a Saturday afternoon with a carefree date plan in mind, Gavin was not exactly ready to be greeted with the sight of you sitting on the bathroom floor as blood trickled down your wrist and pooled beside your legs. Gavin’s initial reaction could be described as calm. The nature of his job, which made him quite used to scenes of blood, would enable him to rapidly make a rational observation of the situation and directly act. Gavin’s first priority was snatching a towel from a nearby shelf, tightly wrapping your wrist to stop the bleeding before carefully carrying you in his arms to your bedroom. His first instinct was to immediately bring you to a hospital and get you properly checked up by a doctor, but the empty look in your eyes as well as the silent tears dripping across your cheeks as you slowly shook your head in refusal, made Gavin reconsider his options. After all, the last thing he wished to do was put further pressure on your already broken self by dragging you against your will to a hospital and leaving you exposed to a variety of questions and pitying looks there.

So Gavin unwillingly compromises. He checks the cuts on your wrist himself and sighs in relief as they turn out shallow enough to be treated without risk. As Gavin picks up the first aid kit from your bathroom and sits down on your bed to carefully disinfect the cuts, the feelings of anguish, grief and self-hatred finally bursts to the surface. After holding all of these feelings back for the sake of taking care of your bleeding body and controlling himself to the best of his abilities, Gavin finally felt tears pricking his eyes. His lover, his world, his everything was suffering in front of his eyes. The woman he loved with all of his heart, the beautiful and kind soul was constantly putting a brave face even when the pain got too overwhelming that she wanted to scream and cry out. His sweetheart was facing a seemingly never-ending battle with the demons inside of her head everyday and still she found enough courage to wake up and face the world every morning. How could he not cry?

“How can you be so strong?” was the first thing coming out of Gavin’s lips. He gently squeezed your hand and looked at you in the eyes, gaze carrying all of the unspoken words he wishes to say. He wanted to sit there all night and tell you about the amazing woman you are. How brave, how strong and how fierce you are for facing the world while carrying so much upon your shoulders. The woman Gavin loves is a soldier much, much braver than him and he cannot be any prouder of you for not giving up on life despite it all. If you need an attentive ear to listen, Gavin will be there for you whether it’s four in the morning or two in the afternoon, whether it’s just to cry your heart out to him or to tell him all about those venomous thoughts swirling inside your head. If you ever wish to seek professional help, be sure that Gavin will support you in every step you take and will never leave your side. He loves all of you and that will not change no matter what your situation is. Whether you are laughing or crying, hurting or enjoying life to the best of your abilities, Gavin will be there, holding your hand, giving you the strength and comfort you will always deserve.

Kiro:

“It’s more than okay to feel this way,” Kiro softly whispered in your ear the day you decided him to bare your all for him, body and soul.

His hands tightened around your waist, bringing your naked form close to his chest. His long, smooth fingers tenderly trailed across your stomach, up to your breasts and down your arms until he reached your wrist. Kiro ever so gently traced the scars scattered on your soft skin, barely applying pressure as if scared he will hurt you if he pushes the slightest against the skin. You could hear him take a sharp intake of breath as his fingers traced your arm up and down, sending shivers of pleasure and comfort across your whole body. Kiro’s hands continued to do so for a short while, letting your tense body unwind and comes undone under his careful and tender touch before he spoke again. Kiro’s voice was no higher than a whisper beside your ear as he told you how grateful he is that you have never given up on life and how much he loves and adores you with all of your scars and pains. You could hear his voice tremble the more he talked and you could feel something wet hit the side of your neck as Kiro nuzzled his face in the crook of your shoulder. At that moment, one thought was swirling in your head: In Kiro’s arms you were home. And home is where you are simply accepted and embraced with no questions asked.

Once Kiro learns of the venomous demons inhabiting your head and pushing you to make yourself bleed, he will make sure to pour more of his addictively sweet love to you. So be ready to be pampered to death by this man. Do you feel like staying in your room all day doing nothing at all? Kiro will make sure to empty out his schedule, gather all of the soft blankets in the house and huddle up next to you under the sheets with snacks in hand whenever the darkness in your head gets too overwhelming for you to fight it. Do you feel a little bit better, ready to go out for a date? Kiro will also be there, hand intertwined with yours, as he allows you to pick whichever destination you want to go to, without ever pushing you too far or forcing you do anything that makes you feel uncomfortable.

So, in your dark just as in your bright days, Kiro promises he will be there. He will smile when you do and hold you close whenever you feel like crumbling down. He will give you space and time whenever you need them and stick close to you if you feel like the world is crashing around you .Kiro will be more than content to simply walk by your side and match your pace in your journey towards healing. He will be there when you feel courageous enough to take baby steps forward and he will never abandon you even when you shut yourself in your room and come so close to giving everything up. Kiro will be there, through it all. So do not be afraid, and lean on his sturdy back, and let his gentle warmth and kind heart heal your very soul.

Lucien:

Lucien would have definitely noticed your mental situation long before you decided to tell him anything. Lucien’s strongest forte of observation would enable him to tell the darkness you would often find yourself drowning in and he would always try his best to help you as subtly as possible. Once you feel ready and confess it all to him, Lucien’s help would turn more explicit and vocal, now that you have given him your consent to receive help. Lucien might not be an expert in mental health but he is more than ready to introduce you to one of his psychiatrist friends, whom he has absolute trust in their skills. But if you do not feel ready to talk to anyone yet, Lucien will respect your decision and encourage you to take as much time as you need. He will be there for you, whichever choice you make.

Expect small gestures that make you feel instantly better every day from now on: Your favorite flower on your desk on days where work feels too overwhelming, a delicious breakfast in bed in the mornings where your eyes are puffy from crying and you’re feeling too hallow to even get up, the cutest diary in your favorite color left beside your pillow for you to write your heart out. All of these and more will gradually manifest into your life as days go by.

Lucien understands. He understands very well, probably more than anyone else, that he cannot exactly banish all of your doubts and insecurities. Life is not a fairy tale. Life is harsh and unfair. It will knock you down and mock all of your attempts to get up. It will hurt you and scar you and turn your soft heart into a torn, bleeding mess. That is life and Lucien will not try to sugarcoat reality. But Lucien knows how to make you look at life and feel something else beside pain and hatred. He will bring you to parks and let you soak up the sun and doze off on his lap. He will bring you to watch your favorite movies over and over again and drive you to see the sunrise even if at the cost of his own sleep. He will invite you to cat cafes and watch as you swoon over the fluffy and cuddly animals and hug them closer to your chest. But Lucien will also be there if you choose to shut the wold off and you could no longer see the light surrounding you. He will sit there in silence with you and pat your head until you fall asleep. He will switch outdoors dates to indoors ones and try to lessen the weight on your heart as much as possible without ever giving up on you.

No matter how much your demons whisper and scream, Lucien will be there to deny all of their words and remind you that you are loved and that when all of this is over, “I will still be here and so will you”.

#mlqc #mr love queen's choice #mr love victor #mr love gavin #mr love kiro #mr love lucien

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joyisntyoj · 3 years

Text

04: LETTERS TO NOBODY OR MAYBE MAYARI

Seal stamps, stamps with whatever designs, papers and pens, stickers, pictures, dried flowers, heartwarming messages, and a lot more.

When was the last time you wrote something on a literal piece of paper for someone?

Have you ever personally given someone a handwritten letter or sent it from the post office?

Is writing a letter still a thing today, or you just use whatever app you have because what is the point if other ways are more convenient, right?

Maybe, you are more the vocal type of person and, you just say what you feel instead of writing it down?

Perhaps, you are none of the above because what is important is your presence in their lives and, that is more than enough?

Still, how lovely it is to keep something that has sentimental value. It unnecessarily means that you are hoarding something because what's to not treasure from precious memories in a small piece of paper in an envelope?

This story is for those who never get tired of expressing themselves in whatever form they know, but most especially to those who write.

May you never run out of papers, inks, and thoughts to compose. to more unforgotten memories preserved in letters.

^^^

To: Mayari.

How are you? I wish things were getting better, just like what I always pray. These days, sleeping at night suddenly became serene as well as waking up in the morning. Sometimes my days are dull and typical...I believe? But most of the time, it's either I'm feeling blue or extra sad, or was that the same? I kept on blaming the pandemic, but for real, I'm just a mess. Silent battles are truly tough. I wish I had the courage and strength just like yours. Be safe. Stay sane. I'm really trying my best to be legit all right.

With so much love and kindness always and all ways,

Liway.

Liway is the name, exhausted with life. Mayari, someone out there, maybe a supreme being or plausibly not always receives Liway's letters. Sometimes Liway writes 10 messages at once and sometimes none at all. Mayari is the only recipient of such letters that even Liway never knew they were received by the random recipient it thought was just nobody. It all genuinely started on having a recipient written on the "To:" part at the post office. Though seriously, it doesn't even have any home address. It's super weird that it's for Mayari and no address, and were received.

HOW?

^^^

To: Mayari.

The night has come. This time, it feels heavier than usual. Tears are suddenly falling. I noticed that an unwelcome visitor came. The familiar pain is hugging me again, so tight that breathing is getting harder. I hate everything. Yet, I came to realize a lot of things. Afterward, I'm feeling blessed and grateful. Am I getting crazy? Before I went to bed, at the dinner table, I felt uncomfortable with the conversation we had, my family, about myself back then. I really hate it when they keep on bringing up what happened in the past. I already moved on... I think... so can they stop mentioning those moments? Honestly, whenever anything from the past is introduced again and remembered, I tend to feel like it just happened yesterday. Everything is coming back so fresh and new; fun, pain, sweats, and tears. I hate it.

PS. Mayari, can you send me some courage? Preferably in capsules, So I can have it in my intakes and be sure I'll be really having it in my system literally.

With so much love and kindness always and all ways,

Liway.

Continues writing so many letters filled with how living is like. Liway felt tired and exhausted. A few days ago, it was super overwhelmed that crying is unavoidable. Then this morning, Ms. Walmy called for a little chat and checking up because it's never too bad to check up on somebody, most especially when you're a counselor. It's your job, so uh? Anyway, though Liway was out of focus on the call, it was able to be accomodating and warm in return. It reciprocated the thoughtfulness with a sweet smile.

^^^

To: Mayari

Hey! Today I was mad because firsthand, I experienced that thing I usually hear from other people. The "don't-post-something-revealing-on-social-media-but-love-yourself-but-that's-not-appropriate". Well, I don't even know why I'm reacting super outrage towards it. Because knowing that my family is just concerned for me since the internet is frankly scary. I mean, I did nothing wrong, so why? Maybe deciding to be confident on the internet is not necessary for them. But for me, it is! So how should I deal with this? A friend consoled me, and I feel better. Still tho, my mood is already ruined. Oh gosh.

With so much love and kindness always and all ways,

Liway.

Welcoming a new week, the usual Liway is busy with the household chores. Some may find it stressful, but this one is pretty different. Scrubbing the floor, washing the dishes, brooming on the side. Later on, folding the clothes, fixing the bed, and a lot more things. It looks like it'll be tiring its body out until the nose bleeds, and passing out is the last resort to rest. How come it's easier to clean an actual mess than the one inside the head and heart?

^^^

To: Mayari.

Beloa visited me today. My childhood and the only friend left I have up to this day from elementary school. If you get what I mean? It's been a long time since we had a chat, especially that things are super complicated these days. She's doing really well, and I couldn't be more proud. I'm still amazed at how we manage to be friends because we both don't like each other to begin with. It's so funny that we even pulled each other's hair in the 4th grade while the class is taking the annual picture for the school year remembrance. What are the odds in this even, right? HAHAHA. Today was warm and bright.

With so much love and kindness always and all ways,

Liway.

Dates suddenly don't vary in these letters. Even the concept of time is somehow gone. What's important is regardless of not having these "important details" like the usual, Liway can keep up and be consistent in sending its letters. Liway never missed a chance to send a letter to the address less recipient, which left the post office staff to ponder with it. But as time goes by, Alle, the clerk, is no more surprised 'coz she's used to everything now. The envelopes unfailingly vanished the moment it was dropped inside the mailing box. Indeed, a magical mailbox.

^^^

To: Mayari.

I never knew how amazing pretending could be. You know that thing where someone usually says I'm okay, but really not? The inner saboteur that was triggered by their trauma is real-real-real. A car is useless when it's not moving if you wanted to travel to faraway places. Does that make sense?

PS. It sucks that our bathroom is the only "semi-safe space".

With so much love and kindness always and all ways,

Liway.

Polar bears are really fascinating. They get to hibernate. Then, after the time being, back on hunting and living their lives. Ligaya was one of Liway's hero. A lot knew Ligaya for being a superhero, although she does not have that fantasy powers. Just like the polar bears, too, Ligaya has been hibernating for quite some time but kept on saying that she was not. Liway saw it all. Maybe a bear's hibernation is different from a human-being, hmm?

^^^

To: Mayari.

IDK what to say, but I just wanted to be consistent at the very least in sending you letters.

PS. The radio was broken, but in my head, it's working. It kept on playing nonstop music. Is this a poetic way of saying I'm overthinking things?

With so much love and kindness always and all ways,

Liway.

^^^

To: Mayari.

A lot happened lately. Somebody lost a precious one, and here I am, having a renaissance moment. It's a crazy ride, but for all it's worth, the pea has grown into a beautiful plant. Hope it made sense coz finally, everything is making sense to me now. Little by little, slowly and surely.

With so much love and kindness always and all ways,

Liway.

^^^

To: Mayari

Hey!! I hope you are doing great!!! These days, everything felt surreal. I get to be active everywhere. It's draining, yet I feel so alive than ever. I had this thought that time is indeed just a concept, hmm? I mean, anytime is the right time to do what you want and whatever it is. Nothing is too late, most especially when it comes to growth. OH, being late in class still counts but FOR REAL RIP TO THE ONLINE CLASS SETUP -_-

PS. May we never run out of time to be the best versions of ourselves. LOVE WHOEVER YOU WANT. fck the situation, but SOON, GO ANYWHERE YOU WANT. SPEND FOR YOURSELF AND FOR YOUR LOVED ONES. FEEL EVERYTHING.

PSS. May we leave this world with fewer regrets and more amazing memories.

With so much love and kindness always and all ways,

Liway.

Quite a lot of letters were already sent. The post office is getting more and more letters, as well as Mayari. Still, NO REPLY. Maybe some other, Liway will be able to hear Mayari's words.

^^^

To: Mayari.

*here's an envelope just in case you want to write me something*

With so much love annd kindness always and all ways,

Liway.

'Tis the season to be jolly. LOL Nah. Liway has been out for the past weeks. By out, means on a hibernation mode. A L O T R E A L L Y happened. It's hard to put it into words. I guess Liway will end these letter-sending shenanigans or just lazy and trying to give out some excuses //

^^^

To: Mayari.

Ever since I was taught how to move around the kitchen, I've been assigned to be Mom's assistant while cooking for the feast every event/occasion we'll be celebrating. It's tiring but super fun. Getting your fingers bleed and while unaware is cool LOL~

PS. Why does it feel so good to overthink things while doing the dishes? What's with that scenario.........

With so much love and kindness always and all ways,

Liway.

Tireless hands, heart, and mind with countless thoughts and feelings, papers, and pens everywhere—WRITING; it surely is one of the best ways to vent. Though letters can’t hug and wipe one's tears, witness waves of laughter, ease the pain, and such, the comfort from every word written is more than enough.

Suddenly time barge in and reminded me that this is enough. THIS IS ENOUGH FOR 2020...

A new chapter has arrived, and maybe it's time to move forward. Maybe this is where it all gonna stop for a while. I mean, writing is somehow tiring, literally. Probably, Mayari might reply with the number of letters sent anytime soon, so maybe waiting is all that needed.

No rush in moving on.

MAY YOU GET THE REPLY YOU LONG FOR SO LONG.

PRIORITIZE YOURSELF AND HAVE COURAGE.

BE KIND ALWAYS AND ALL WAYS.

💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

Little did nobody know, Liway is writing a letter to her "ideal" self.

The letter-sending-to-nobody thingy of Liway is really mind-boggling, right?

Mayari is Liway. Liway is Mayari.

The things that Liway wanted to say but cannot articulate well were always sent to Mayari. Mayari is the version of Liway it wishes to become in the future.

The weak Liway longs and hopes to have "that" someone by her side to look up to. That's why she always writes letters and keeps them in the memory box.

The post office thingy was actually her shared room at home: the table at the corner with no lights but so much mess. It's that post office.

It's pandemic, so how can a post office be open and how brave she is to go out, right?

That saying, "be the hero you wanted to have when you were little", is the best explanation of Liway's way of venting and expressing.

Nobody knows when Mayari will come to life because it's no certainty that we can be the ideal self we all wanted to happen.

For now, Liway is fighting her battles and screaming louder to the universe,

UNTIL WHEN DO I HAVE TO FEEL THIS WAY?

To be continued...

Happy New Year, Mayari. ✨💜

This is like an excerpt from my quarantine shenanigans for 2020 LOL.

#newyear #writing #vent #shortstory #letter

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bonesandpoemsandflowers · 4 years

Text

So here’s a thing that happened, tumblr.

Many moons ago, I was in the Neuro ICU for a while. I was actually in there twice--for a week at first, then out, then in again for about two weeks. In between: “Nothing’s wrong! It’s resolved!” As you might imagine, given the spoiler there about how I went to the Neuro ICU twice: in fact, Something was wrong, and it was not resolved (then).

(it is resolved now, thank you)

This post is not actually ABOUT that, but we must start there, out of order.

This is a post about art and rivers and boys in cars. But we start in the Neuro ICU.

I don’t like talking about this time in my life. I would have been skittish and mysterious ANYWAY--I was raised like that--but I’m extra skittish and vague about my timeline because I don’t want to talk about it, you know? I survived something I had no business surviving. I had to relearn how to walk. That took months and that was the easy part. Because I am a big tiddy goth girl, and because I was very young then, people love to assume that the problem was drugs, and I did it to myself, as if that somehow makes anything less tragic.

I was 23 years old with a brain bleed due to a congenital defect, and even at the time, I had to defend myself: no, I’m not on drugs, I don’t do drugs, I didn’t do coke, I’ve never done coke.

I am also Colombian, which, I suppose, might play into their calculus about the coke, but WHO KNOWS. I was busy gibbering and almost dying at the time, which left little energy for noticing potential microaggressions.

Is it a microaggression, I guess, when you’re dying? Who knows.

I have never even been drunk, tumblr. I don’t drink. I don’t smoke. I don’t snort. I never have. This is mostly because I’m a paranoid loon with an off again, on again anorexia, ya know, thing, so occasionally I get really hung up on irrational concepts of bodily purity. People think it’s a flex when I try to explain this, that I’m relishing in some kind of moral superiority. I’m not. I admitting to SEVERAL defects (“quirks”) of personality there. The eating disorder. The deep distrust: I will not be vulnerable in the presence of others, I will not dull my senses, I will not allow myself to be weak. A certain perfectionism. A certain tendency towards slow burn self harm. Grand ideas made of nothing that sometimes take hold.

My point is that this big disruptive thing happened.

I survived, which is AWESOME. And yeah, I had to relearn how to walk, and some other things, but you guys know that I do yoga and aerial silks and lyra and ran off to Thailand to train kickboxing for a summer on fighter street and I STILL do not shut the fuck up about it.

So, cool, cool cool cool cool.

And I don’t even want to talk about that part, the medical drama, the body horror, the institutional whatever. My neurosurgeon was fantastic and like a week after my discharge I was high as SHIT on prescribed painkillers my caregivers insisted I take and wrote him a gushing effusive letter about how he was MY HERO because I was ALIVE and anyway that basically makes you BATMAN, DOCTOR LEWIS, I FUCKING LOVE BATMAN.

Again: high as fuck, ok.

My point is: I hate talking about this.

Because once you’re a survivor in people’s minds, that’s all you are. You are reduced to this one event that had very little to do with you. You are defined by this thing that happened to you.

And this isn’t even the weirdest thing that’s happened TO me! But still. Happened TO me. Not something I did. Not my action. Barely even my reaction.

But again, personality flaws. What does it say about me that I look at social norms about comfort and inwardly I snarl that I want no one’s pity?

Except I’m not actually that mean. I don’t snarl.

I just withdraw.

This is a tactic that has served me well in life a BUNCH of times. Is it always the answer? No. Is it often worth a shot? Listen. Yeah. Yeah, it is. Sometimes you flee an abusive home life because that’s the only option, and you don’t want to die. Hypothetically speaking: sometimes all you can do is run.

But sometimes you flee people with mostly good intentions, maybe.

This is all very high minded but what’s prompting me to write this isn’t exactly the upcoming (many year) anniversary of the event. It’s something way more mundane and dumb.

I have not logged into my facebook account since this happened. I never bothered deleting the account(s), either. I presume they still exist. I have no idea HOW to log back onto them, and, more importantly, no desire.

“So what?”

So, okay, back when I had my first stint in the Neuro ICU? Like, totally out of nowhere, I just disappeared from people’s feeds. (you all know I do this) Somehow part of the story got out and SOMEHOW, I have no idea how, a small group of my friends managed to independently track down the hospital I was at. And this is on next to no info, across state lines, like--I have no idea how the fuck they did it.

I also don’t fucking know who they were.

I was told, at the time. I have a vague idea of who two out of (I think) four were, or might have been. I was kind of busy at the time, with the dying.

And when I say I don’t like talking about this time: I don’t like even THINKING about it. I avoid it.

Fleeing. See?

So I don’t have a memory of the names. I don’t have memories of the memory.

“So what?”

So, I know from groups other than this one, groups less dedicated than this one, that people actually get REALLY fucking mad at you for not accepting their get better soon wishes. And like, I get it! You were very worried and I did nothing to reassure you.

I WAS BUSY.

I was busy dying. Almost dying. Not dying. I was busy sleeping 20 hrs a day. I was busy being unable to walk. I was busy re-learning to walk. I was busy relearning how to write with pen and paper and for months I COULD NOT DO IT, do you have any idea how that feels to someone who is and has always been and has always wanted to be a writer? Fuck it. Fuck you.

The initial disappearance. I am not to blame.

But then doing nothing to reach out to anybody for YEARS and YEARS--

Okay, maybe a dick move on my part.

“So what?”

So I think one of the people who managed to track me down in the hospital was my best friend from high school, a terribly sweet Brazilian boy who mostly called me not by my name, but simply: The Devil.

I dig it. Always did.

And it’s high school, right. Everybody is thirsty as fuck for their friends, one way or another. We never dated--we were both always dating or pursuing other people--but we had the typical high school bestie unresolved romantic tension deal going on.

This is important so remember it for later: the problem was not attraction. The problem was not one sided unresolved sexual tension. I had a particular thing for how he looked while driving, shades on, one arm slung over the wheel in that terribly and typically male lounging driving pose that’s probably a safety hazard.

We spent a lot of time in his car.

I didn’t drive, at the time, because my mother didn’t allow me to learn, and I got kicked out of my house and disowned when I was 17. This dude spent a LOT of time driving me places. Boys in cars is practically a genre of erotic poetry, thanks to Richard Siken. This is because boys look Cool driving cars, wearing sunglasses, pretending they’re not paying attention to you while you know they are.

So he was fun.

More importantly, I guess, the fact that he picked my ass up at like 6 AM over and over and over again for a big chunk of my senior year is one of the few reasons I managed to graduate despite being technically homeless.

He was not a morning person. I am not a morning person. He did it anyway.

Why didn’t we date, I wondered, years later, for a fraction of a second, and then I forgot about it.

“SO WHAT?!”

So I’m grown up and happy and fulfilled and in a lovely long term relationship (remember! we’re buying a house!), so it’s not about “what if?” It’s that I’m happy and grown up and I write books sometimes.

But there it is.

I write books sometimes.

Artists are constantly stealing ideas from everywhere and this is good. Artists also steal from themselves, grubby little hands on secret parts of our hearts.

So I’m writing this book, right. My Great Work. My Break Out Novel. My SERIOUS FUCKING BUSINESS book. My “this is the thing I’ve worked the hardest on in my whole entire LIFE” book.

And in this book there is a male love interest. He is a political statement. I’m writing him as sexy and heroic as possible. I want this to be the MOST attractive man I’ve ever written.

Latino. Sexy as fuck. Not a criminal. Overly responsible. Action ready, and terribly nurturing.

Hot Single Dad and Reluctant Necromancer is my masterpiece. A passionate statement and stance against the depiction of Latino men in media. A war cry to examine our own subconscious biases. A weapon raised against an unjust system.

I stole parts of him from Frank Castle. I stole parts of him from Geralt. I stole (MANY) parts of him from this one IRL hot dad former Army Ranger guy, Mexican American with a tattoo on his arm of a jack o lantern one of his kids drew. I stole parts of him from this cute Marine in my DMs who gave me story advice about guns and gear. I stole parts of him from indigenous leaders from centuries ago, from the peoples he is descended from. I stole parts of him from every man I’ve met who worked in dog rescue. I stole parts of him from myself, hiding secret parts of my heart in the male character so that no one will know.

Lovely. All good so far.

I got like two whole drafts in before I was thumbing through some printed out pages, idly thinking: how funny that I don’t have any real life, personal to me models for this guy.

All my prior male love interests, you see, are based on someone. In the werewolf trilogy, they’re BOTH based on someone--different someones. The villain, too, is jokingly referred to as the “evil werewolf ex boyfriend” for a reason.

Everybody is someone.

So how funny, I thought, that necromancer hot dad lacks any references from my own--

OH, wait, fuck--

Overly responsible brown dude with sad dog eyes drives the female lead/occult specialist around while good naturedly complaining that she’s weird as shit.

Oh, damn.

And suddenly a bunch of teensy little backstory details made sense.

Cool.

“So what?”

Bonus round of self realization: my own understanding of this time in my life radically shifted, turning, lurching, sickly rotating on a new axis.

Why didn’t we date?

Somewhere between then and now, post ICU but pre novel writing time--

This one time I overheard somebody talking to somebody else and it had nothing to do with me but sight unseen, on the other side of the stacks in a used bookstore, one dude said to another: “you know that if you were lighter, you’d have a chance with her, right?”

How terrible, I thought, and I forgot about it.

Why didn’t we date?

Because my mother told me, when I was very young, that boys from Brazil were all very wild, and I should avoid them. And she told me this so early and so plainly that I never thought to question it. When I was older she took harder stances that I easily ignored because I knew they were wrong--don’t you dare bring a black boy into this house. You’re dating a Jew? I can’t believe you did this to me. What are you going to do next, kiss a girl?

WELL, Ma, as it turns out, I mean, not til college, but yes.

But the smaller, more mild statement was so much more insidious.

I wonder if he knew. I don’t think he did. I wonder if he figured it out later. I have no idea, because we were friends when we were still essentially children, and now we are grown. Not everybody thinks about this kind of thing, and I don’t blame them.

How much damage did I do?

Does it matter?

Does he know?

I know.

I know, now, that my rallying cry against a system’s unfairness is also a cry wrenched wetly from my own subconscious depths. YOUR biases against? Yes. But more accurately: my biases against.

“So what?”

So this kind of epiphany shit leaves you breathless about it and you wanna scream. You wanna SHARE it. You must infect others with this knowledge.

But you can’t out of nowhere foist this apology on someone. That’s selfish. That’s about redeeming yourself in your own eyes AND asking someone else to confront unpleasant emotions on your behalf, even though they’re the wronged party. Selfish. Tell me I’m not a bad person, baby. Tell me I never hurt you, not even a little. Forgive me if I did. Wade through this pile of astral shit for me just to make me feel better. Reassure me. Hurt yourself for me in the here and now.

So I’m not going to do that, obviously.

“So what?”

But there’s that other part of it, right? Not the apology. The surge of emotion. The realization that all those morning drives back then added up to something deep within me, something so foundational to my concept of care and maybe even the start of something like love--the knowledge that this person gently carved some ideals for you, so long ago, so subtly that you never questioned it, never even realized, because it felt so natural, because something about it is so inherently good and right.

Despite everything--despite society, propaganda, colonialism, the prejudice of my upbringing, my own unexamined complicity, ALL of it--

Despite everything, this person taught me something so deeply about love and the shape of it, something so foundational that I built all my art on it and didn’t even see the beams of it until halfway through my most ambitious and soul bearing undertaking.

This is how you care for another, went the lesson, and I wrote pragmatic actions over words romantic male leads all the way down.

This is what love might look like, and in my own life, ever ambitious, I chose a poet talented with words and actions and good fight choreography, because I think that’s sexy and dichotomies are mostly bullshit, or at least things that happen to other people.

But I didn’t learn what love looked like from my childhood home life, obviously. How could I?

Without you, though, without you and your mirror sunglasses at 6 AM and your exasperated teasing, devil, witch, bruja, without any of those, where would I have learned? How long would it take me, to find someone who would teach me a wholesome lesson?

I’m small and cute and predators love a victim with a lack of context. I give myself and my wit some credit, but what’s pattern recognition worth if you never get any good data points?

Deep lessons.

Again: this kind of epiphany makes you wanna scream. Who to infect, with all this new knowledge?

Maybe no one. Probably no one.

But maybe, just a little, you wonder--

How would that conversation even go?

Hey, so I wrote this book--no, it’s my fifth, not my first, but thanks--so I wrote this book, and there’s this character, right, and he’s--well, hahah, I mean, he’s not exactly--I just--funny story, really--no, god, no, you don’t have to read it--it’s just--he’s just--I mean, no, you, you’re just--forget it, actually, just--

Like, what the fuck is there to say?

“I couldn’t have written this without you.”

And

“Did you check on me? When you thought I was dead?”

and

“I’m sorry I didn’t notice, at the time, that I meant anything to you.”

or is it really

“I’m sorry I didn’t realize until now that you meant something to me.”

What to do with all this emotion? Or more accurately--like rivers carve out gorges, here is the shape of something that once was. This shape will always be here. Even without a single drop of water ever again: we see the river.

What to do with the shape of all this emotion?

I consult the great Richard Siken via a feat of bibliomancy. Advise me, O Oracle. The oracle is War of the Foxes (2015), turned over blindly in my hands, opened randomly to The Worm King’s Lullaby, pg 45, verse 1:

The holes in this story are not lamps, they are not wheels. I walked and walked, grew a beard so I could drag it in the dirt, into a forest that wasn’t there. I want to give you more but not everything. You don’t need everything.

This advice is too good. I close the book.

The advice does not tell me what to do, but it’s too good. The verse reaches into my chest and carves out my heart, slices it open. Inside my heart: pomegranate seeds. Tiny jewels, fit for a dragon, snacking on garnets and rubies, and the apple of Eden wasn’t an apple, because it was the desert, wasn’t it? It was a pomegranate. Something with scales, maybe snakes. The serpent, the devil.

What to do with all this love?

I swallow the pomegranate seeds. I buy myself some time. I want to give you more, but not everything. Do you need everything? I don’t know. I don’t have it to give to you, in any case. Does it matter?

Why are you doing this, me?

Because art is messy. Art is cutting yourself open over and over again. You clean up most of the mess, try to bottle the fluids and label them nicely or deliberately misleadingly, fit for someone else’s consumption, but either way, you’re bleeding.

Maybe this urge is bleed with me or maybe it is oh, you already did.

I swallow the seeds. I buy some time.

I’m not done yet. I’m not.

Maybe all this adds up to nothing.

Maybe if I do this right, it adds up to a lot.

Maybe if I do this right it will feel real, maybe what I want is to gift the shape of these rivers to somebody else, all emotionally intimately with strangers. This is a shape that love can be. This is a silhouette you may recognize.

Maybe that’s a tribute, or a tributary.

But it’s not about you, not really, so don’t get too big headed about it. This is about Art and something like Justice. Big things. This is a book about big things, about history and dogs, history and gods, crimes and lies, slaughter and slander.

Right, yeah.

An act of faith, an act of will.

I swallow the pomegranate seeds. I buy myself some time.

It’s not harvest season yet. Not yet, not now, not yet.

If not now, then when?

When it’s ready.

There is no ready. Perfection is an illusion.

Yeah, sure, but page count is REAL.

You’re evading. That’s another word for fleeing. Do you know that?

Yes. I do.

How long will you run?

Just a little bit more. Just a little. I promise.

#it was boiling / i run to the sea #'i wrote this book because REPRESENTATION also possibly an unresolved crush from high school i am pure LITERATURE'#i have done everything in my power to find you! except get on LinkedIn

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flawlesspeasant · 5 years

Note

First of all I LOVE your fics they are soooo amazing! I have come to learn that you write a lot of angsts Jolex. I was wondering if you ever wrote something about jo being raped and Alex saving her. If you have could you please please post it???

Hi anon! Thanks for your comments and I’m glad you like my fics :] If I’m not mistaken, I have written something like that before. I think it had something to do with Jo being physically assaulted though, not sexually. I have to really scour my laptop to find that and I promise I’ll do it tomorrow. I really think I have written it. I have very vague memories of a one shot in which Jo was still dating Jason and Alex witnessed her being assaulted by him. I just don’t know where I would find it because I don’t recall seeing it on my laptop recently. I’ll look really hard for it though. In the meantime, I do have this fic that’s kind of similar. It’s just about Alex waiting for Jo to wake up after being physically assaulted. I think it’s the second part to the fic I’ve talked about above???

—————

A small, bony hand rests on my shoulder and gives it a gentle yet supportive squeeze. I don't have to turn my head to know who it is. The first three times she came to check on me, I always turned my head to see who it was that periodically came in to check on me. After the third time, I just stopped looking to see who it was because it was the same person each time. She startles me a little bit this time because I didn't even hear her come in. I was probably too caught up in listening to the monitors to realize she came in. "You should really go home." Her voice is soft and soothing, just like a mother's voice should be. I don't know why but for some reason, Mere's voice helps calm me down a little bit. It's not soothing enough to make me want to get up and leave but it helps take the edge off. This is the fifth time she's come in to try and get me to leave and all five times she's been unsuccessful. You would think she'd stop trying by now and realize that I'm not going anywhere. That's how she got in this situation in the first place. I acted like she didn't need me, I went away and less than an hour after I left her, she winds up in here. "Alex, it's going on six hours. It probably won't be tonight...you should really try to get some rest." I shake my head and rest my chin against the sidebars of the bed, trying my hardest to ignore Meredith's half-desperate attempts to get me to leave. I'm not going anywhere...not until I know she's okay. She finally shuts up but she doesn't take her hand off my shoulder and I appreciate that. She's the only one that's really supported me. Not that Yang hasn't come in and offered support because she has; but Mere's the only one that's been in here constantly making sure I'm alright. She rubs my back in a circle then takes her hand away. "...I'll check back in a little while." I nod my head.

Mere closes the curtain behind her when she leaves and it's just the two of us alone again. The slow beeping of the many machines she's hooked up to are completely in sync with each other, creating a rhythm that makes me feel better knowing that her breathing is even and her heartbeat is steady. Her heartbeat wasn't steady when she first got here so within the last six hours, she's made some real progress. She's still not breathing on her own but that's only because her blood pressure's still pretty low while her white and red blood cells are still building back up. Once she wakes up, she should be able to breathe without the ventilator. I know I probably shouldn't because she's not mine, but I can't just sit here without touching her any longer. So I gently ease my hand up underneath of hers and stroke her knuckles with my thumb. It's comforting to feel the warmth of her skin against mine...it lets me know that she's okay. When her skin gets cold is when I have to worry. Bailey told me that I shouldn't touch her or do anything that could disturb her but anyone that knows me knows that I have an issue with following rules. If I was laid up in a hospital bed like this, I'd want someone to touch and caress me and I assume she's no different. After all, we're practically the same person.

I use my index finger and trace her neatly trimmed fingernails. Her long, thick brunette hair is resting in gentle, tousled waves around her chest. Her eyes are closed so softly that she genuinely looks as if she's peacefully asleep. Underneath her right eye is a nasty, deep purple bruise that looks like she just colored on her eyeliner with purple marker. She has a little bit of dried blood around her nostril and I reach out to clean it off but pull my hand back as I realize that I probably won't be able to get it since she has a tube running up both her nostrils and clamped behind her ears. She's beautiful, that's for sure. There was never a time I thought she wasn't. Even now, black eyed and bloodied, I think she's beautiful. When I look at her, I don't even notice the black eye or the bloody nose. The only indication that she needs to be here is the thick white bandaging around her left shoulder and her left chest. I reach up and smooth her hair back, away from her face.

This is actually my fault. I never should've left her the way I did. I knew something was up but I just ignored it. She's been telling me all week to "stay out of her business" and "keep my mouth shut" so I listened to her. I minded my own business and I kept my mouth shut, even though I knew I should've went in and intervened. She wouldn't be in this situation if I had been there, that's for damn sure. Me and Avery were just leaving for the night. We walked past a conference room and heard both her and Peckwell screaming at each other and it sounded like it was bad but I remembered her telling me to stay out of her life. So I ignored the screaming match they were in and left to grab a drink at Joe's with Avery. Just as me and Avery were getting in our cars to drive down the street to the bar's parking lot, she stormed out of the hospital and got into her own car. She seemed fine though. She really seemed fine. I fix the tube in her nose and squeeze her hand a little tighter to let her know that I'm here. I wasn't there for her when she needed me to be there for her but I'm here now. I'm here now.

I pinch the bridge of my nose and take a deep breath to calm myself down. My knuckles have specs of dried blood on them but that's not bothering me. The only thing the blood on my knuckles is doing is making me remember that I took care of my own business. She was completely conscious when she first came into the emergency room. I could tell that since she was bleeding out so much, she was beginning to get weaker and lose consciousness by the moment but she was lucid enough to tell us what happened. She was a little bit staggered, of course, so the story was choppy but I got the gist of it. She broke up with him after their loud argument. She stormed out of the hospital after she broke it off with him. He was pissed that she broke up with him. She went home to pack up her stuff so she could get out of the apartment they shared together after she broke up with him. They argued again and he pushed her against the wall by her throat. She kneed him in the balls and he punched her in her face. She grabbed the bag she managed to pack and tried to get out of the apartment once again and he told her that their relationship wasn't over. She insisted that she was leaving and said that she never wanted to speak to him again. He pulled a pocket knife out on her and when she turned to run from him, he got her...right in her chest and her shoulder. He stabbed her four times before the cops got there. I guess his neighbors heard all the screaming from the initial argument and called the cops immediately. The cops got there just as he pulled the knife out.

I just keep thinking...what if his neighbors weren't home? What if the police got there a minute later? He stabbed her four times in her chest and shoulder...he had every intention on killing her. He obviously wanted her dead. What if he had succeeded? Bailey said the stab wounds were about an inch and a half deep. Not deep enough to puncture any of the major arteries that lead to her heart, but deep enough for her to lose more than half of her blood volume. He can say that it was an accident, he can say that he didn't mean to hurt her, that it was self-defense...he can say whatever he wants. But he stabbed her four times. How much is self-defending could you possibly need to do against a girl as petite as Jo? And she's not stupid, she would've backed down after he pulled out the knife. She was defenseless. Somewhere along the lines of stabbing someone four times, you decide to attempt to kill that person. If you're not trying to hurt someone or if you didn't mean to do it, you only stab that person once...for god's sake. But he stabbed her four different times. He tried to kill her, there's no doubt in my mind about that fact.

I lean forward and plant a kiss on her temple. Again, I know I probably shouldn't do anything to her considering the fact that she's not mine by any means, but I deeply care for Jo. I didn't realize how much I cared for her until I got paged back to the hospital, seven hours ago. My shift ended seven hours ago and I was getting ready to have a drink with Jackson when I heard my pager go off. I checked it and saw that it was Mere paging me 911. I knew it had to be serious because Mere knew that I was off already. She wouldn't have paged me 911 after I got off work if it wasn't serious. So I put a hold on my drink and rushed back to the hospital. When I got there, they were in a trauma room trying to get her to stop bleeding. She coded in the ambulance on the way to the hospital but she was stable when they brought her in. She was crying when I went in the trauma room and she was telling everyone—not just me—the story...of how they argued, she broke up with him, he went all, "If I can't have you, nobody else can have you" and stabbed her four times with a switchblade pocket knife. They had to take her to surgery to stop the bleeding and she's been unconscious ever since.

The point is...I didn't know how much I loved this girl until I saw all her blood on the floor of the trauma room and felt my knees go weak at the realization that today could very well have been her last day of life. I sat in the gallery, watching Bailey and Mere effortlessly stop her from bleeding out. I sat there crying, replaying what she said over and over again in my head. Replaying that he pulled out a knife on her, he stabbed her...and then he fled the scene. They brought her back to the recovery room when her surgery was done and I sat in there with her. It started dawning on me that I think I love this intern that isn't even my girlfriend. I only thought that I loved her at this point, though. I bring myself out of my thoughts and look back at Jo, so helpless, unconscious and still so very angelically beautiful. What pushes me back into my thoughts is when I look down and see the blood on my hands again. The blood doesn't belong to her. Nope, it belongs to him.

He had the audacity to show up in the recovery room, crying and begging to know if she was okay. The AUDACITY of him to show up. He STABBED her and showed up to see if she was okay? It was at that moment that it became clear to me that I not only love Jo, but I'm in love with her. The moment that I saw him from the corner of my eye show up at her bedside, I sprung up and all I remember is punching and punching and punching and punching...then I remember kicking. I blacked out. I blacked out and all I remember saying is, "You tried to fucking kill her...I'm gonna fucking kill you." Somewhere along the lines, both Mere and Cristina pulled me off of him. Mere was screaming at me, saying, "Alex, you're gonna get arrested!" and I just remember not giving a damn. And that right there is how I know that I'm in love with this intern. The fact that I don't give a damn about jail time. The fact that I will willingly take life in prison for killing this man, as long as he hurts the way he hurt her. I love Jo...and that's how I know I love her.

Anyway, Peckwell's in surgery right now and the cops are waiting for him to wake up from surgery before they talk to any of us. I still might go to jail for kicking the shit out of that man but as long as Jo wakes up alright and he wakes up in the most unbearable amount of pain he can ever possibly imagine...well, I don't care what happens to me. I always knew that the son of a bitch was going to end up hurting her in some way. I always thought that he would emotionally hurt her, though. I never thought he'd have the balls to physically hurt her. What a coward move to pull out a knife on her though. She was trying to leave, run away from him...and he stabbed her. How much of a pansy do you have to be to do that to a girl?

"...Alex?" I can barely make out the whispered sound of her voice, but I heard it. I definitely heard it. I lift my head up and look at her. She has her eyes open and I can tell by the contour of her eyebrows that she's in some degree of pain. She lifts her right hand up since the left side of her body is medically paralyzed so it can heal correctly and swats at the tube in her mouth. I stand up and gently peel the tape off her cheek so I can take the tube out, since she can apparently breathe without it. "...Alex." She whimpers in pain.

"Shh." I softly tug the tube and pull it out of her throat.

"You stayed..." Her lips weakly tug up into a smile.

"I'm not going anywhere." I push her hair back away from her face again. "You need to rest...you want some water?" I make sure the tube is still securely in her nose though, because it's delivering extra oxygen and since her blood pressure is still in the tank, I want her to continue with extra oxygen. "You in pain? You need more morphine?" She slowly shakes her head and closes her eyes again. She's still groggy from all the pain medications they pumped her full of. "Okay...just rest."

"Wait..." She whispers.

"Shh...rest." I adjust the tube behind her ears so she doesn't roll over and pull it out on accident.

"Are you still gonna be here when I wake up again?"

"I'm not going anywhere."

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laufire · 5 years

Text

ENDGAME

Okay. I definitely won’t be able to sleep today, so I might as well pour out all my Endgame feelings right now.

First thing first, I was probably in the WORST POSSIBLE HEADSPACE to watch this film; national elections where fascists could take over Congress (spoiler alert, they didn’t. I literally just cried with relief for over ten minutes) AND being extremely concerned about characters you over-identify with on the same day, all after the worst year of your life, apparently don’t mix well. Who would have thunk.

(btw, I was spoiled as I was voting about That Very Big Thing; everyone who follows me probably can guess what I’m talking about. I almost threw hands tbh. Then almost cried over a dozen times on the way to the theatre because the stress of the day was killing me ugh).

All this to say, my head is a mess right now, I don’t even know if this post is going to make any sense, and I will probably take time to process certain things and have a definite opinion on them LOL. But well, here is now.

And err. Warning for a brief mention of suicide ideation?

(crossposted to dreamwidth, livejournal, and pillowfort)

TONY (& CO)

– In case it wasn’t obvious, the thing I was spoiled about? Yeah, it was Tony’s death. FML. I mean, even if I wasn’t spoiled, I would’ve seen it coming as soon as we saw him after the five years jump, lbr (happily off-screen married to Pepper? With an adorable daughter? Pepper resigned to the possibility of losing him instead of begging him to stay like in IW? And then the movie kept hammering it home LMAO; that and a lot of things for the mains that I kind of saw coming from less than a third into the movie, which IDK if it’s because I was particularly intuitive, or the foreshadowing was that heavy handed xD).

Obviously, I’m not rocking your world if I tell you I’m extremely heartbroken, I guess. Especially because, as I said, my emotions were already all over the place. And seeing a character I adore, and in who I project a lot of my issues on –including, yes, suicidal issues–, sacrifice their lives (no matter how poignant, and moving, and well-written it might be) was incredibly hard for me. So, yeah. I’m going to have to deal with that for a while I guess. Which I plan to do by writing a bunch of Fix-It and Not Actually Fix-It fics ASAP.

But. I mean, out of all the endings Tony could have, this was always my second choice for him. And he was grandiose in this film. He figured out time travel. He created a gauntlet capable of holding the Infinity stones. Beings far more powerful than him were trying to carry that gauntlet to the van and none of them thought to use it, but he did. He was completely vindicated. He is the Saviour of the Universe.

And he looked gorgeous the entire time, which is truly important for me.

– In all seriousness, the thing I take to heart the most is that

his legacy remains intact

, and it’s inspiring, and heroic, and poetic, and prosperous. Clearly, without him, my enthusiasm for the universe will never be the same, but one thing that worried me is that I wouldn’t want anything to do with Marvel for a while after this film, and that’s not how I’m feeling; I’m very much looking forward to further parallels and homages to him in my ever-growing list :P

Tho, honestly, I’m kind of side-eyeing myself for the fact that, the one time!!! I go and fall in love with a male lead character, he happens to be genuinely heroic and self-sacrificing, instead of just using those concepts as lip-service and getting to have his cake and eat it too LMAO. I mean, sure, given my reactions to those characters, the AeJons Snowrgaryens of the world, I wouldn’t have liked him so much if it was the case, but dammit. It’d be nice to experience that high sometime xD

– The Iron Fam is the best part of this movie for me. Tony’s relationship with Morgan was way too adorable to handle it; Pepper was enormous and so poised (and the scene where they circle around each other in their armors… poetic cinema); I didn’t get enough Iron Husbands to satiate me (Rhodey’s caress should have been skin to skin!), but I loved what we got; Happy is an assholes who made me cry ABOUT CHEESEBURGERS.

And let’s not talk about Peter, OMG. My heart. And Harley appeared to Tony’s funeral! Though, honestly, the person I missed the most there was Christine Everhart, who should have been there just on the basis that I like her (plus, ya know, IMO she was important to Tony’s origin dammit).

I’m going to consider Nebula an honorary member, tbh. Her scenes with Tony in space cut me deep; and she and Rhodey are buddies!

Natasha and Fury (I loved his appearance *sniffs*) are honorary members too, because fuck it. They both appeared first vis a vis Tony on his movies, and have two of my favourite relationships with him, and I say so.

– Related to that, one Failure™ of this movie, is not providing a Nat & Tony one-on-one scene. Seriously, I can’t believe they didn’t realize how necessary that was. But I ADORED the scene where they and Bruce are lying down bouncing ideas about the stones (it made me softly whisper “ot3” LOL); it was possibly the only “Avengers” moment that worked for me –other than Clintasha, but that’s on a different league tbh.

I wanted more Nebula & Tony scenes too; I would’ve loved to see Tony interact with Past!Nebula. Yes, realistically, he would probably had made her LOL, but. I needed it. it’s definitely on my to-write-list :P

– I wanted just some positive interaction between Carol & Tony to counteract Current Comics Bullshit and I got Carol rescuing him, smiling beatifically at him, and Tony basically saying she was Da Bomb and the Avengers should follow her lead instead of keep sucking xDD So that was nice.

– I loved the scene at the beginning where he fucking SNAPS, and goes for Steve’s throat. It was probably my favourite scene. It’s resolution with everyone’s reactions and after the flashforward kind of… totally sucked, but whatever. Still amazing.

– The only part of his storyline that I HATED, and I mean absolutely loathed, was his scene with Howard. Jesus Fucking Christ. They went with the most simplistic take they could have, didn’t they. I haven’t felt more insulted in the theatre in my entire life, and my family made me watch both Ocho apellidos movies with them, so Marvel? That’s a feat. The moment where he says his father hit him with a belt so we (Tony included) are supposed to think, well, at least Howard wasn’t physically violent with his son, hooray?

And I think we’re supposed to take his “wouldn’t want my son to turn like me” as motivation for Tony’s actions and like… newsflash, but Tony has “put the worlds’ needs over his own gain” since Iron Man. Fucking. One. It’s literally what he does in this film, because we’re shown that, despite having achieved his happy ending, he was still trying to figure out time travel even if it meant risking his future.

Seriously, if they wanted me to be moved, they should’ve used Maria. Or hell, Edwin Jarvis was right there. And if whitewashing of Howard’s abuse becomes one of those MCU things that ends up bleeding into the comics, I’m gonna riot. Ugh.

BTW, just thought about this. Has anyone confirmed what the H. of Morgan’s second name stands for? Because my immediate idea was that it was for Happy, but now the fear that it might relate to Howard has entered my brain and I need someone to drive it out.

OTHER FAVES :P

– I am a lot more heartbroken over Natasha’s death than I expected to be. I like her character on paper a lot, but sometimes the writing or the acting don’t agree with me; neither was the case in this movie. I thought she was incredible. I loved the scene where she’s leading the post-dusting council. So losing her in this movie, of all movies, really hurts. And I understand why people who love her would be unhappy, and even furious –to some extent, so am I, tbh; specially because I don’t think she was properly honoured by the other characters after the fact–, but I do think it was extremely fitting for her arc.

– I loved Nebula’s storyline; how she was able to form new relationships, and what I know will be enduring friendships. Her interactions with her younger self were fascinating too; I loved that she perfectly followed the time-travel mumbo-jumbo. And she was so adorable at the beginning. Her bond with Tony didn’t have as much screen time as I wish it had, but the rest of the movie really shows how much his kindness touched her, and I love it. I’m a bit sad she didn’t get to kill any Thanos, tho.

– Okay, putting him in the “faves” section doesn’t exactly feel right, but whatever: I maintain that Thanos is a great villain. I don’t know what people that say otherwise are thinking. He’s the perfect foil for so many characters, and he is genuinely villainous; he is so delusional and self-righteous (seriously, his “solution” for the Snap 2.0 was… o.0) his plans feel sincerely menacing. He perfectly spells out his own doom; narratively speaking? He’s a joy of a villain to me. And I loved how he reacted to the information about the future; specifically, that upon learning about Nebula’s “betrayal”, his tactic was SOFTENING towards past!Nebula to make her even more eager to please him.

– Carol didn’t have much screen time, but I liked what she got (like, nothing too deep, but I didn’t expect much). I liked the Carol/Rhodey nod, even if I’m not sure how I feel about the ship in this incarnation. I wanted to hear something about Maria, but welp.

And on a shallow note, I kind of love that fandom absolutely freaked out about her wearing lipstick on a scene (while praising the “~natural no-make-up make up, effortlessly feminine without looking like you’re actually trying” look that she sported on CM, and disregarding that while yes, it was a troubling look that fitted a pattern across movies, A4 was made first so it was hardly a “betrayal” of the semi-grunge style), for the movie to go and give her the butchest look she’s ever gonna get on film lmao (and I will be pleasantly surprised if they’d keep a look like this for a movie where she’s the lead and not a supporting character, tbh).

– Sam and Bucky were So Soft™ with each other OMG. If their show doesn’t have at least ONE episode centred on them going undercover as a married couple, I’ll write it myself, because they are perfect for it (especially if you add some of the early banter/antagonism).

Btw, Sam getting the shield? The only good part of that mess at the end LMAO.

– I have mixed feelings for the Alt!Gamora development. I just… really loved the GOTG-IW versions of her character and her ship, and she’s gone and just… :( And that type of pseudo-amnesia/relationship do-over thing can be so badly written sometimes… But she’s back, and if done right, the role-reversal between her and Nebula could be gr10 for GOTG 3. We’ll see.

THE BAD™

– I know if I walked up right now to the Russos, and asked them why they hate Thor so much, they wouldn’t even understand the question. They would say, but we love Thor?? He’s such a fun character?? Or some version of the sort. They can fool themselves, but not me. You don’t do this to a character for whom you feel a modicum of respect, IMO.

Like, the fat-phobic jokes? The way they dealt with his substance abuse? How his arc about stepping up and assuming responsibilities ended by… him throwing away his responsibilities. Losing his hammer was a turning point for him to relearn the lessons about value and worthiness and power he’d been taught, and then… this movie. I couldn’t even fully enjoy his scenes with Frigga because I was so appalled by it all.

His only great scene, IMO, was how horrified and out of it he sounded after killing Thanos. I really felt that.

I didn’t even enjoy that he passed his power to Valkyrie because… unlike with Sam, that basically came out of nowhere. If they at least had given them ONE more scene at the beginning; seriously, it writes itself: just put her in the room when Bruce and Rocket are trying to convince him to go with them, and have her being the one that does it. Make her help him the way HE helped HER in Ragnarok; show her trying to help him and getting angry and frustrated. IDK, something.

And I know I’m probably alone in this because everyone around me practically creamed their pants when it happened but… having Steve control Mjolnir felt like adding insult to injury. Not just lifting it (which I would’ve been annoyed by too, given that they rewrote the new Asgardian mythology just to have this scene lol), but commanding it as only Thor did. Just. How much more are you going to take from Thor, people.

I want to make it clear that my problem is with the execution, not with Thor going through this; that, written differently, with more care, I could have loved.

– I’ve always been conflicted with MCU Steve. I loved the Captain America old comics I read as a child, and 616 Steve was A Hero. So I wanted to love MCU Steve just as much but… it often felt that he just didn’t measure up.

Well, conflict over. I don’t like the guy. Reading Man Out of Time just a few months ago probably isn’t helping (and yeah, that’s not a fair comparison, but it illustrates why I look at 616 Steve, and I adore him, and then I turn to MCU Steve and just… this guy is not worth my time).

I couldn’t even enjoy the ship, because my feelings for it come solely from my love for Peggy, and she didn’t even get to say a word? Add to that the fact that an endless loop of “OMG HE MADE OUT WITH YOUR NIECE. NOW HIS NIECE. RUN” was going through my head the entire time (the fact that Sharon was absent from the funeral when EVC acted in half of the MCU Russos films is hilarious in light of this xDD).

MISC

– I really enjoyed some of the heist shenanigans. Especially Tony’s plan for a distraction being GIVING HIS PAST SELF A HEART ATTACK. How extra and edgy can my man be xD Tony and Scott are A Duo.

– I was thinking that Alt!Loki might make an appearance in GOTG3 if Thor is really a part of it, and how that might mix, but then a friend reminded me about his show, so I guess that’s where they’re going? IDK, The Avengers’ Loki is probably the one I liked the least out of all his appearances, so unless I hear something really good about it, I’m not picking it up.

– IDK if it’s because I was desensitized, but the white suits and Clint’s hairdo didn’t look as ugly on the final product?

– So THAT was the gay character Feige went on about. I knew he was going to be an unnamed nobody with less than five lines LMAO. Stop being cowards and give us Danbeau and WinterFalcon.

– I was very touched about Ned and Peter’s hug (MY BBYS), but isn’t Ned supposed to be five years older? AKA out of high school? I mean, he looked like he had missed Peter, not like he had disappeared with him too? And the entire class is going on a trip in FFH? Is it because of nostalgia/a friends thing? Were all of them dusted? Because poor teacher then xDD

– I think a lot of emotional threads were unceremoniously dropped, but other than the ones I’ve mentioned, I’m more indifferent towards their recipients so… eh. A great example is the fact that Bruce’s conflicting journey with Hulk was solved off-screen LMAO. Some of the humour felt extra-cringy too tbh.

– I have Tony-related fanart as my lock screen, my computer background, and my phone background. I get teary eyed with just looking at them. I should think of changing them, but I wont xD

– I know I’m forgetting things but whatevs, I can talk about them later.

#tony stark #mcu #marvel #iron family #thor odinson #nebula #natasha romanoff #thanos #winterfalcon #and other stuff but i'd be here all day #marvel (movies)#gamora #avengers (movies)#avengers: endgame #endgame spoilers #my thoughts #talking to the void #marvel thoughts

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holdtightandpretenditisaplan · 3 years

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My family dog is dead and I... I’m processing.

INSERTING THIS CAPITAL LETTERING BIT HERE AFTER WRITING ALL OF THIS TO SAY THIS IS A FOR-THERAPY-REASONS POST WHERE I WORK THROUGH THE GREIF OF FINDING OUT MY FAMILY DOG DIED. THIS ISN’T REALLY BEING POSTED FOR ANYONE BUT MYSELF TO HELP ME PROCESS BUT FEEL FREE TO READ IF YOU WANT? BUT YEAH, THERAPY POST (I PLAN TO REVIEW THIS LATER TO SEE IF READING THIS RAMBLE WILL HELP ME PROCESS GRIEF BETTER AND/OR TO REFLECT ON IF IT WAS ACTUALLY HELPFUL WRITING MY GRIEF OUT LIKE THIS)

I got a therapist last year just to help me process my grandpa’s death... from 6 years ago. And to help me process that my mom is sick... and has been for over a decade.

Just last week my therapist and I discussed how I had gotten so much better. I had actually reached the acceptance stage! I wasn’t, you know, happy about the things I’ve been grieving over, but I wasn’t ignoring them either.

And then, tonight, mom calls to let me know the family dog, the dog I named (Bella which translates to beautiful), the first pet I really watched grow from a puppy to an elderly dog, the dog who just last Friday was causing a ruckus during our weekly video chat... had a tumor. A tumor that, if benign, had only a 30% chance of survival with surgery. A tumor that had caused a rupture in her stomach that led to serious internal bleeding which dropped her survival chances to a number the vets didn’t even bother to share besides the word ‘low’

So my family elected to not try the surgery. They didn’t want her to go through all that pain with such slim odds. Instead they had her put down peacefully while surrounded by my parents, brother, and our other dog (who was freaking out because the last time he went to that vet he was the one dying).

And I just found out two hours ago.

I’m trying to process but this... this is hard. God damn it is it hard to not just slam my emotions off at the cuff and ignore them to fester.

It’s hard to look at pictures of her.

She was so fucking pretty.

Australian Shepard. Pure bred from a fancy breeder.

Ha. I just remembered the reason why she had such a prestigious family tree. Mom was done getting pets and made a list of ridiculous demands for the next dog we got. She was trying stop us from getting another dog after the disaster that was the dog before Bella (they tried to eat my cat! Even after living with said cat for years!). So mom’s list of demands was long.

When we picked up Bella from the dog breeder, mom was the one to pick our dog-to-be from the litter. But Bella was on the reserve list of dogs we couldn’t get. So mom said ‘Okay. No dog then’ and walked out the door. This was big because, well, we had driven 6hours just to look at the puppies. Like I said, fancy breeder (who lived a whole state away). We (dad and us kids) were despondent. But, just a bit into the drive home, the breeder calls us back. She’s upset at the person who put Bella on the reserve list. So now that puppy we wanted is off the reserve list, do we still want her? We drove back immediately to get our puppy.

I remember the first day with her. Most of it was spent trapped in a car with her trying to pick a name and noticing the heart-shaped white patch on the back of her neck or the way the brown patches above her eyes looked like eyebrows. The first night at our house she spent cuddling up with me in bed (she whined a lot but she was a great cuddler)

If you ask my family, they will say she was named Bella after the Italian word for beautiful. If you ask me, the person who picked the name, she got it because she kept whining and it made me think of the main character from the Twilight series (But oh how I wish the name came to me any other way).

But now she’s gone.

And I miss her.

I miss her LOUD barking (we taught her how to speak on command but our other dog taught her how to just make noise).

I miss her big brown eyes (she always looked like she was begging for food).

I miss her soft fur (so perfect for cuddling and she loved to cuddle).

I miss the way she would always do rounds to check on everyone before she would go off to bed.

I miss the way she was obsessed with playing fetch (she was great at giving back the ball)

I miss the way she loved watermelon so much she would dig through the trash for scraps of the fruit.

I miss the way she huffed every time she laid down.

I miss the way she sought out tile floors or any cold surface (she had a lot of fur!)

I just... miss her.

God I miss my dog. And yes, mom was Bella’s favorite human, but she was my favorite dog. Sorry Murphy [other dog], but you’re a rascal and Bella was always an angel. Except that time she ate 2 sticks of butter. Or the time she tried to eat a whole pie. She only got half of it but that was impressive since she did it right in front of us without us noticing. I was litterally facing her as she did it! But she was so sneaky...

But really, an angel of a dog. Only disobedient twice in her life? That’s impressive. I can’t even go a month without dissobeying the rules I made for myself.

Well, to be fair, she did still argue with us. You know, barking even when we told her to stop? But I always felt that was her way of trying to comunicate that she didn’t like the situation and less about her disobeying...

And if you’re wondering why I’m sharing this, it’s because this is how I’m processing right now. I’ve been trying out using writing as an outlet for a while and it’s been great for my anger management, so why not try this for grief? Based on this post... well, I have no idea if any of this is legible (I’m just typing as it comes to me, no edits). But I do know this has helped me a ton in processing my grielf. Does that spell grielf? I meant grief. Whatever. Point is, I’m processing and this helped.

I’m going to stop here. I’m getting a headache from the tears. I’ve litterally run out of tears and snot which is a big sign of how much I have been crying which makes me feel guilty because I never really cried over my grandpa like this but that isn’t on me because I didn’t know how to grieve when he died and I shouldn’t feel bad that my methods of dealing with giref have changed over the last several years. Yay. Therapy. It works. Look at me redirecting self-depricating thoughts into ‘that was then this is now’ thinking!

Anyway, I’m done for now. Might come back later but for now I’m done writing. Partially from the mentioned exhaustion. Partially because the number of red underlined words has dramatically increased since the start of this post so thats probably a sign I should at least take a break to cuddle my cat.

#grief #griefrecovery #dog #if anyone wants I will share a picture #god damn now I'm crying again

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writingforthethinkers · 7 years

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Meant To Be Yours

Once Upon A Time

Pairing: Peter Pan X Reader

Word Count: 1215

Warning: Murder

Summary: Requested: idk if you’ve ever seen heathers the musical but if you could base an imagine on Meant to Be Yours where Pan is JD that’d be cool😅 // heathers anon again....if you need more inspo use Our Love is God and Dead Girl Walking Reprise!!

A/N: I loved writing this, I’m sorry it took so long to be posted though! Here’s Meant To Be Yours in case you want to listen to it while reading, it’s my favorite song from the musical. :)

Pan always treated me differently to the Lost Boys. He took me from my home because he said I was lost, and all though I don’t think I was quite as lost as some of the other boys on the island, I was grateful for being taken off to Neverland.

Felix and some of the others described Peter’s feelings towards me as a strange fascination, but if that was so it felt like it went both ways. It wasn’t long after I had arrived that we got together, and we now stayed in the same tree-house. It was quite obvious that Pan treated me differently to everyone else, taking extra special care of me during battles, not allowing me to stay if anything ever turned nasty. People always said Pan was a demon, a monster, a cold-hearted killer. But that wasn’t the Peter Pan I knew.

The Peter I knew gave tentative looks when I was in pain, pressed sweet kisses to my lips and held me close to his chest in the comfort of our bed. I was soon to find out that this sweet Pan I thought I knew was all an illusion.

There were intruders on the island. It showed in Peter’s mood and the climate of Neverland as the skies clouded and the forest became darker. He told us to stay in camp, stating he could deal with the unwelcome visitors himself.

“I’ll be back soon,” he promised, placing gentle fingers on my chin and pulling me forward to kiss him. I react in the same way, pulling him towards me, a hand on his neck. “Stay in camp.”

“I will,” I say, as we pull apart.

“Remember,” he remarks, walking backwards with a smirk on his face, just before he disappears into thin air, “Our love is God.”

“Our love is God,” I repeat in almost a whisper, before turning and walking towards our tree-house.

Pan is gone longer than expected. I don’t worry for his well-being, I know of very few people, dead or alive, that could match Pan’s power. However, I’m curious as to where he has gone, so I set off into the woods to find him.

It takes me a while, and I’m about to give up when I hear voices coming from a few meters away. I continue onwards, a voice becoming more recognisable as Peter’s. I don’t feel over-joyed at finding him, though, as paired along with his now clearly sinister tone, is a pained voice, crying for mercy.

Staying hidden behind a tree, not quite sure what else to do, I watch the horrible scene before me. Pan looms over a bloodied figure, lying limp and painted crimson by their own blood in the mess of leaves.

“And I’ll make absolutely sure you never step foot on my island again,” Peter says as the figure begins to beg, crying out in pain as Pan clenches his fist, using his magic to squeeze the air from the intruder’s lungs. It isn’t over quickly.

When the body stops moving, I emerge from my hiding spot, startling Pan.

“(Y/N)?”

“You,” I falter, looking for the words, “You monster.”

“(Y/N), wait-” but I don’t let him finish, turning and running back to camp. Of course, he stops me before I get there, appearing right in front of me and taking hold of my arms.

“Okay, (Y/N), listen to me. You need to calm done. We’re going to go back to camp and talk about this,” his voice is scarily calm as he makes the both of us disappear and reappear in the middle of camp in an instant.

I immediately break from his grip, running up to our tree-house, swiftly climbing the ladder and bursting in and slamming the door behind me.

“Don’t you dare magic yourself in here,” I warn, pushing against the harsh wood.

“Alright, I’ll stay out here then,” Pan’s voice rings clear as day through the door. I don’t say anything, the realisation of what I saw sinking in.

“What you saw, (Y/N), you don’t have to be afraid. I’d never hurt you, why do you think I’ve protected you from everything like that all this time?” Pan begins.

“You did what you did. Whatever you say can’t change that. You’re a monster and I don’t want anything to do with you,” I shout.

“I can hear you, love, I’m only on the other side of the door.”

“Don’t you dare call me that!” I spit, my volume never lowering.

“All is forgiven, baby,” Pan states, continuing despite my words, “I forgive you for spying on me and you forget everything you saw, it’ll only take a snap of my fingers.”

“No! I don’t want to forget! We’re through! I don’t want anything more to do with you, you psychopath!”

Pan chuckles, sending shivers down my spine.

“I was meant to be yours,” he states, and my heart thumps louder in my chest. “We were meant to be one.”

“Shut up,” I stammer, pushing harder against the door, as if it could block out what he’s saying.

“Don’t give up on me now, finish what we’ve begun,” Pan continues. I hear wood creaking as he takes a step towards the door. Instinctively, I push away, taking a step back.

“Pan, go away,” I try to sound forceful, but I can’t. Terror fills me to the point that I can barely move.

“You were meant to be mine, I am all that you need,” another creak as he moves closer still, “You carved open my heart, can’t just leave me to bleed.”

I grow short of breath, a lump forming in my throat as I begin to panic. His attempt to sweet talk me in the most sinister way makes me feel like I want to vomit. Still, I stand in the middle of the room, unable to do a thing.

Suddenly, a loud bang echoes around the tree-house as the door rattles on its hinges. Pan thumped his fist against the door before lowering his voice, almost whispering through the crack in the door.

“(Y/N), open the door, please.”

Staying put, I have no plans to do as he says. Waiting, I listen to Pan’s every move.

“Don’t leave me alone,” his hand must still rest on the door, “You were all I could trust.”

I hold my breath, the silence between each sentence deafening.

“I can’t do this alone.” A hint of despair fills his words, before he lets out a sigh, exasperated. I can feel through the space between us the emotion disappearing, seeping out and away like smoke.

“Still, I will if I must.”

Creaking follows his words, and I rush to the door at the sound of him turning, making his way down the ladder.

Letting out a breath, I slump to the ground. He’s gone, I tell myself, however I made that possible. He’ll come back though, a harsh reminder. He’ll come back, most probably with a thirst for my blood.

I have to be ready. The sinister sound of creaking fills my ears as I stand, reminding me of the person Pan really is.

“Well, there’s your final bell

It’s one more dance and then farewell.

Cheek to cheek in hell, with a dead girl walking.”

Part 2

#once upon a time #once upon a time imagine #ouat #ouat imagine #ouat fanfiction #peter pan #peter pan imagine #peter pan x reader #requested #fanfiction #heathers

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parkshuppy · 6 years

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skam fic questions!

I was tagged (a very long time ago - sorry!) by @canonicallyanxious to answer these fic questions. I’m gonna have a go even though my memory is awful and I’ve probably missed out a bunch of very good fics, (since this fandom is incredibly talented) and I’ll rely on my bookmarks and see how we go.

The first fic you fell in love with: in better light, everything changes was the first fic I remember deciding to read. When I first started watching Skam I was insistent I wouldn’t read any fics for it (look how well that worked out - lol). But I read this one and it was delightful, made me smile a lot, and I sat and read it all in one sitting. So, from there I started my descent into scouring A03 for all the evak fics I could consume.

The last fic you fell in love with: my heart held a ledger, for sure. I stopped reading fics for a while because life stuff got in the way and I was always busy. But I’m lucky enough to be friends with the two incredibly talented people who wrote this fic, so I knew about their plans to write it, and got to read it as it was being written. Literally from the first sentence I loved it, I love the universe Sarah and Lyds have so carefully built, and how intense and complex it is. I’m very excited to see where they go with it!

The fic that you’ve re-read the most times: Probably True or False, it was one of the first fics I read, and despite me having read it multiple times (throwback to me being late to work cause I was sad and decided to read it), it still makes my heart wanna burst every time. I’m a sucker for childhood best friend AU’s and this is endlessly adorable and so well written.

A fic that you didn’t expect to love as much as you do (based on the description, a pairing or whatever): sitting on the fences, I didn’t ship Jonas/Mikael before this (more of a Jonas/Mahdi person tbh), and obviously Mikael was not really given his own personality in Skam. But this fic gave him a personality, gave him depth, and paired him with Jonas, and I absolutely loved it. It made everything make sense, and gave Mikael the characterisation he deserved.

A fic you knew you were going to love from the first paragraph or even just reading the description: Easy - stay a minute. Before I was friends with Kathi I’d read her Inception fic and absolutely adored it (despite never having watched Inception), and when I saw that she’d posted a new fic that was Actor!Isak and Director!Even, I remember being absolutely beside myself with excitement. I knew just from the description it would be amazing - and I was very, very right.

A fic that makes you feel like shouting about it to anyone who listens because everyone needs to read it: a mental archive of love unwanted, its incredibly well written, and has so many ‘punch in the gut’ lines, as well as having the characterisation spot on. There were so many times I teared up and audibly gasped and clutched my chest whilst reading this fic, and I remember yelling about it to all of my friends whenever I read a new chapter.

The fic you are/were the most excited to be updated: I don’t read a lot of WIP’s, but I remember having notifications on for Checking From Behind and being super excited whenever it updated.

The fic you caught yourself thinking/theorizing about the most during your everyday life: take me to the stars, since it’s still a WIP and has a lot of twists and turns and builds itself up really well, I find myself thinking about it a lot and how the guys in that verse are doing.

A fic you want to print out and have it among your books on the shelf: making new clichés, it’s basically a novel in its own right, because its so complex and has so much depth to it. Sarah made sure to completely create a universe of her own for the MNC boys, and it could easy be a book. (Even if....say...you swapped the boys for lesbians???? ha.)

A fic universe you want to live in: the SAM universe, solely cause I wanna see Even’s movies, since they sound amazing and super artsy and exactly how I’d imagine Even would be if he were a director. Their version of Romeo and Juliet sounds way better than the original, tbh.

A fic to which you would read endless amount of follow-ups, one-shots, meta, etc. by the author: ok so literally any of these fics, I’d be happy to read extras for. But I’m especially lucky because I have friends who’s writing I all love dearly, and who often give me little anecdotes and meta’s to do with their stories. I absolutely love the fact that all writers create their own universes, and I love to hear extra parts of their stories, and to find out what their characters are doing in the future. Gimme all the extra content.

The scene in a fic that made you laugh the hardest: I remember being full on hysterical in a lot of scenes in take me to the stars, especially when Isak makes Even waddle over to his music with his pants round his ankles to change the song.

The scene in a fic that made you cry the hardest: I cried at the end of with love, from anonymous, which, considering I never cry at stuff, was a big thing. I remember crying because I was so emotional at the last line (Even’s little note on the page ;-;), and then laughing at myself for being ridiculous.

A scene in a fic that left you hot and bothered: Not applicable to me, I’m afraid.

A scene that squeezes your insides and hard to read but in a good way: not a scene, but the literal entirety of if you must live, darling one, just live, the whole thing is heart-wrenching, and you feel Even’s sadness and hopelessness all the way through, and the little things he and Isak do for each other also make my heart squeeze. The whole thing is just painful (in the best sort of way)

A twist that made you gasp out loud: idk if it counts as a twist as such, but I do remember gasping at the end of chapter eight in Lost Boys (Not Ready To Be Found), because I was def not expecting what happened, and I was very glad I didn’t have to wait for the chapter to be posted since it was already complete when I started.

A line, scene, a metaphor or an idea in a fic that made you think: “I was thinking about the idea of needing people,” Even says. “And how it’s true that we rely on other people a lot, and it’s okay to do that. But also how unfair it can be, sometimes, when the need you have for someone else outweighs what they need. And how when that happens, if they decide it’s too much, you can’t really begrudge them for that. You just have to let them go.” - From MNC, I remember this really resonating with me. Sarah always manages to get in kickass lines and metaphors in her fics, tbh.

A character you fell in love with because of a fic (or multiple fics): Mikael! Like I said above he didn’t have much of a character when Skam ended, but the wonderful people of this fandom gave him his own personality and now I love this dorky boy. A lot of fics I’ve read have contributed to this tbh, especially wlfa, sitting on the fences, a mental archive, and don’t want anything but all of you, which conveniently are all mentioned in here.

A pairing you’ve grown to love because of a fic (or multiple fics): Mikael and Adam! I knew people shipped them but wasn’t entirely sure why, but then I read don't want anything but all of you, and it made 100% sense. Lyds completely sold me on these two soft boys and I love that pairing now.

A fic you (re-)read if you have a bad day / would recommend for someone to read if they’re having a bad day: when your heart is bleeding, i'm coming to get you. Its unique in its plot, but the characters are very recognisable, and I just love the whole story - it always makes me smile whenever I read it.

A fic you (re-)read when you really miss Skam / would recommend for someone to read when they really miss Skam: I’m gonna be lazy and say all of the above, because they’re all wonderful and well characterised and bring me back to the Skam universe whenever I reread them.

Gosh that was a lot. I’m gonna tag @holocene-days, and @boxesfullofthoughts if you guys want to do it!

#so my friends are in this a lot #what can i say my friends are talented? sue me #fic rec #skam

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undeservedfavor · 4 years

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Update Varies

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The Bucketlist

Mini-Series of Short Stories

St. Valentines Day [EN]: Chapter 4

youtube

Two months has passed as they continued to work together until they finish the movie and gained so much awards and credit.

"Woohoo!!! Guys! Let's party! We all deserve it for all the hard work!" Director said.

"I think you guys need to talk about something. I don't know but while working with the both of you, we all feel sexual tension in the air." The celebrity Catherine said to Gisela when she noticed that Dorian is eyeing her from afar.

"H-he thinks he's so hot that he can get everyone. Though he told me he had indecent proposals in the past, 3 SMS, 4 Calls, 6 DMs, and 2 missed calls... He's not that hot." Gisela told the actress.

"Woah, so updated, are we?" Catherine gave Gisela a knowing look and a knowing smile.

"Can we talk?" After the Dorian's invitation, he and Gisela went to the nearest park.

"Whenever, I see that sand box, I remember Plage Solitaire. The most peaceful beach on the planet." Gisela just nodded to what Dorian said.

"I-im sorry." They both said in unison.

Then, they laughed a bit with embarrassment.

"L-listen-..." They said again in chorus.

"You go first." Dorian said.

"No. You should go first." Gisela said.

"Uhm, here you go... C-can we be together?" Dorian asked Gisela who shed tears immediately with the question.

"You don't understand. You don't wanna be with someone so-called 'Damaged Good'. I don't want you to regret it. You don't wanna be with me. You don't need to due to pity. You don't-..." Gisela's anxiety is overwhelmingly obvious.

"We do not know those things yet. Those are 'What ifs', you're far from a 'Damaged Good'. For me, you're a beautiful 'Work-in-progress' and hell, despite the controversies I had, I'm still in good condition, whatever you're going through, I will go through it with you. Whatever you're thinking, I'll help you overcome it. If there's someone who can try and understand you, that's me. For me, this isn't the time to waste time and fool around, this is not like the roles I play, this is real. You are real. I don't care how hard it is but no matter what, I wanna be a part of something so beautiful... A part of your plans in the future. Please. For old times' sake, let me be with you all the way." Gisela, lost for words nodded crying as Dorian also shed tears.

"Gisela, thank you. I love you..." Dorian whispered to Gisela as he caress the woman's hair, embracing her long and tight enough to make her feel safe.

"Let me drive you home." Dorian told Gisela.

They both started living under one roof at Dorian's condominium unit.

One morning, as they're lying on the bed, Dorian hesitantly asked about Gisela's list...

"Dear Piggy... A-are you still gonna continue with that list?" She showed him the list seeing number '6' crossed out.

"Back in the beach, I haven't really finished the list yet. Now, it's done. I actually skipped on number '6' and went straight to number 7, 8, 9 and 10. 'Cause you're not just any random guy... Technically you're my little Dino, but... You're the one." Dorian checked the list out due to his curiosity.

1. Earn a lot for the future. ✓

2. Quit the medical industry. ✓

3. Spend more time with the only family - Merian. ✓

4. Finish writing my novels and posting it to my writing/social platforms. ✓

5. Buy a house in Plage Solitaire at a chosen paradise to 'live and die' for. ✓

6. Have virginity taken by a random guy and leave him clueless afterwards. *Skip this part.* ✗✗

7. Get a writing job. ✔

8. Take care and fully pay insurance. ✅

9. Have the one closest to my heart, help me choose a casket and designs for the tomb.

Plus, choose a church for the blessing and perfect spot in the graveyard/cemetery.

10. Chose a great necrological service speaker. I want a great Eulogy.

Dorian just looked carefully at Gisela's face and embraced her tightly.

Then, she spoke...

"I know. I'm a weirdo." Gisela told Dorian.

"Piggy... You're kinda like scaring me with these things but if this is the way I can be with you, I'll understand, process and digest every single bit of it. I'm not even gonna ask you why you made this list in the first place but if you're ready to not give up on life, I'm gonna go with you if you decided to get yourself checked." Dorian said.

"I'll tell you when the time comes..." Gisela said.

The couple decided to go shopping.

No ordinary shopping but he's only doing it for Gisela even if he doesn't wanna consider the thought.

"You know what? I think this one will be okay. Ah! I know! Maybe I can also have a reservation my own. Same color as I've chosen for you. So when the time comes... We're still gonna go as a couple. Even if it's the after-life." Dorian joked a bit.

"Don't. Even though, couple shirts, couple rings and other couple stuff might be cute, I don't want you to think about a couple casket. You're a born villain. And villains don't die unless it's passed hundreds of years already. Plus, they don't even age. Time flies for them gracefully like a bloodline of a vampire." Gisela joked him back.

The next stop is to the cemetery.

They're choosing tomb designs.

"This is perfect, 'In loving memories of...-" Gisela was cut of.

"We can choose the designs Piggy but it's good to personalize those messages." Dorian said as he wrote things down on a paper.

You have lived a life full of love.

Soon, we'll meet and love again up above.

To the place where there is never-ending peace.

Love,

Your Dorian

Gisela smiled at Dorian and they went to the cemetery.

Gisela insisted to choose a spot.

"This spot is nice. The one near the tree." She said.

"I would already reserve those two spots next to each other. So that I can lie down with you forever when the time comes..." Dorian said Gisela shed tears and hugged Dorian.

"I don't wanna take you in this journey with me. You're not welcome this early to where I'm heading. Sorry for being so difficult but thank you for having number 9 checked off my list." Gisela said as she embraces her boyfriend.

A day after Dorian's shoot, he went home to Gisela and the house was empty.

Their things are scattered all over the floor.

The entire house was messy.

But...

There are no traces of Gisela everywhere.

She's missing.

"My dearest, why end up dodging the bullet once more? Running away and hiding again on me like that." Dorian whispered.

He searched everywhere for her and in a place he thought Gisela would go to.

"She's not here. She went through a deep trauma after she saw her parents died in the car accident. I know my cousin can be a handful, but please, don't give up on her." Merian said.

Dorian just nodded and headed off.

Dorian did not bring his car along to find Gisela in the hardest and most hidden places in the city.

As he was walking along the subway...

He found a cying woman.

With hands on her head and her hair covering her face.

Her hairs are tangled and all over the place.

Her skin's full of dirt.

When Dorian tried to look at the woman's face, he was shocked.

It was Gisela.

He brought the woman home and cleaned her up.

She fell asleep crying.

As soon as the woman woke up, she said she's gonna use the toilet.

"You sure you can stand?" Dorian asked. The woman just mindlessly nodded.

Dorian thought to check on Gisela when she's taking too long.

He did not lose hope until this sight.

He found Gisela lying unconsciously on the bathroom floor.

"Gisela!!!" He lifted the woman and brought her to the nearest hospital.

Dorian waited for hours for a doctor to come up to him and say that Gisela's okay.

"A-are you with her?" Dorian nodded as the doctor approached him.

"I'm doctor Ariel James Devant, Psychologist." The doctor introduced himself.

"We did not ask for a Psychologist, we need a Physician to have Gisela checked!!!" Dorian almost lost it.

"She's not physically sick. Not until now. We have pulled up a few counselling records of Gisela. In fact, I was her batchmate in Med-school, she quit and did not finish Med-school. So she just continued being a nurse. Because of her parent's car crash, her parents died in front of her in a car accident. She then became my first patient. I have checked on Gisela a few times and she never went back to the clinic afterwards. She's so indenial that something's physically wrong with her and insistent that she's nearing death, that she shuts down people who wanna have her checked by a professional or by any doctor. She has been diagnosed with constant fear of death that it lead to a severe case of anxiety." Doctor James said.

Dorian was not able to process what's happening and could not speak.

"People who has Thanatophobia, would not like to talk about death for it has caused them depression. On her case, it's different. For that's the only thing she wanna focus and talk about out of fear. Like her whole entire world revolves on the thought that she might, oh sorry, that she 'WILL' die. She already decided that for herself. Anxiety took a toll on her that her brain was mentally pausing because of too much stress, overwhelming worry, overthinking and unshown worry, sometimes this can cause nausea and problems with balancing." The same doctor continued talking.

"Maybe this is the reason why she 'slipped' in the bathroom. She lost consciouness in the bathroom because she might have hit her head on the floor. Now, there's internal bleeding, we need to have an operation ASAP to prevent brain mass. You have to prepare because the operation is risky, after that, she may go under a few days, weeks or even months in coma. Worst case is never to wake up." Another doctor spoke.

"My apologies, I forgot to introduce myself. My name is doctor Jessie Ulysis Voltaire. Neurologist and Physicist." He introduced.

After that, they all worked on Gisela's operation.

They spent hours to finish it and what they said was true...

Gisela fell into a coma for weeks now and counting.

Dorian held the woman's hand in his...

He got a Pig and a Dinosaur stuffed-toy that he put on the hospital bed beside her.

"Do you remember this Dear Piggy? You're Dinosaur's here to wake you up. You're my nurse. You shouldn't be lying there for a long time, at that bed. You're supposed to be the one who's taking care of me." Dorian said.

The woman was just unresponsive.

She was still deep asleep.

"You should have told me what you're going through. I should have understand. A-are you punishing me for loving you so much?" He said, sheding tears as he kissed the back of Gisela's hand.

#Youtube

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meebochii · 7 years

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Hitorijime My Hero 1x12 | Jesy's ramblings

Would you look at that? We’re already at the final episode of this anime - if they don’t make a second season that is. Time sure flies... But let’s get started with 1x12 The Kindest Place in the World!

"The scenery I once saw, standing by his side... Surroundings that had grown familiar... It all looks different now. I've gotta learn to get used to it. Life without him." It hasn’t even been 24 hours since you guys broke up so what the fuck are you going on about, Settie? -_-

OOSHIBA MOM! KENSUKE! ASAYA!

"Want to join us?" Nah. I don’t think he wants that

"Should I get Kou to come pick you up in the car?" Yes. Yes, you should

"Mom, go on ahead without us. We need to talk to Setagawa real quick." You better brace yourself, Settie

"Sorry about yesterday. I wasn't even thinking when I said that. I shouldn't be butting my nose into your business." You don’t have anything to apologize for, Kensuke!

"We broke up." ಥ_ಥ

"What? What do you mean?" He means what he says but stop making that face Ken-chan D;

Wow. Even Asaya is shocked over this!

"I mean we broke up. Exactly how it sounds." ಥ_ಥ

"Then you're not Kousuke's bride or his lover or anything anymore?!" That’s what breakig up means, yes

"It was him who brought up the subject, then?" Well... kinda?

"Why did it even come to that?!" Because life isn’t easy

"No way, I can't accept that!" Me neither

"Heroes don't stick around forever. I should have known better than that..." Dude... You’re the one who ended things, remember?

"I finally found you." YAAAAS!

"How long have you wanted to break up?" Pretty sure he never actually wanted to break up

"I guess I must have put more strain on you than I thought..." Actually, you’re both to blame. There are always two to a relationship

"Or wait, do you not want to walk with me now that we broke up?" Are you trying to be strong, or...? What exactly are you doing?

"It's been a while since I've smelled his cigarettes. Kousuke's scent." Still not 24 hours. Stop being so fuckin’ dramatic, Settie

Settie knows the Ooshiba cat more than Kousuke does... I love it xD

Masahiro: Are you listening? Kousuke: Yeah, I was just thinking about how much I depended on you before. Masahiro: You did. You need to pay better attention from now on. I won't be here to...

WOULD YOU STOP BREAKING MY HEART ALREADY?! I came straight from watching KnB: Last Game to this episode and LG’S ending was already bad enough!!

"No matter where I am, what I look at... Whether I'm with him or alone, the memories bleed through..." Settie, pls

"I don't plan on letting you graduate from me. You're special to me, and I can't just let you go."

Never wanna let you go Never wanna be alone Tell me how it ought to be right now Never wanna leave your side Never wanna say goodbye Tell me how it ought to be right now |̲̅̅●̲̅̅|̲̅̅=̲̅̅|̲̅̅●̲̅̅| ♪ ♫ ♩

"When I asked if it was the end, I meant the end of that pointless breakup talk." I’m honestly not even surprised. Kousuke never said that he wanted to break up after all

"Do you really think it's best if we break up?" NO! I DON’T!

"If you still want to start things over, come and meet me up in the mountains like we promised." You know, whenever something like that happens, the other person either comes to late or doesn’t go at all... (and yes. I am hinting at certain animes here)

"I've already decided. We can't continue to hurt each other like this..." So you’re not going? Welp, that was obvious

"If I were you, I'd..." You... WHAT? When do we finally learn what the fuck Natsuo said back there?!

"My answer's still gonna be the same tomorrow." Yeah... I wonder about that, honestly

"Troubles with the love life then?" Aye

"Well, with a mom like me, I doubt you could have a proper relationship anyways." Well, we tend to make the same mistakes as our parents at one point or another... or so I heard at least

Ohshiba... ¯\_( ಠ д ಠ )_/¯

"I think today's Kousuke's big day. Whatever happens now could change his life forever!" A brother’s intuition

"I just know! He's always been able to solve any problem they throw at him." A mother’s intuition

"Why'd it have to be this way?" Everyone is wondering that, ya know

I remember the day I first met you. Honestly, being a teacher was really confusing for me at the time. I felt pathetic, like I couldn't do anything right. And then Kensuke brought you over. "Needs supervision." That's the vibe I got from you, a kid who seemed out of place with those thugs, and even in his own home. Your eyes always pierced right into me. I wanted to do something, somehow, for you and those eyes. That's when I started thinking about you a bit differently. As I started writing this letter, I tried to imagine a life without you in it. A life without you. But I couldn't imagine what that would be like. I knew that I wanted you to be by my side, no matter what struggles we face. Having you there by my side saved me in so many ways.

Did you ever see a letter so beautiful you started crying? Because I definitely have today

"Please let me make it in time! Please!" Yeah. Don’t let it go like that one Junjou Romantica episode...

"God. Please, God! One more time! Let me see Kousuke one more time!" LET HIM MAKE IT PLEASE! I NEED SALVATION!

Aww, that Asaya smile!

Kensuke: What did you wish for, Hasekura? Asaya: Isn't it obvious? Asaya: That we'd be together forever, of course.

Aww. Asaya <3

Asaya: What about you, Kensuke? Kensuke: Me? Kensuke: My wish was... Kensuke: for things to go well for all of us!

I LOVE KENSUKE SO MUCH?!

"We thought and thought, and coming here was our answer." YES!

"You've grown up a lot. You can take the initiative, obtain what's important to you all on your own now." Be a man, Settie!

"I... I can say it out loud now. Kousuke, I love you! Will you stay by my side, from here on out?" SETTIE MY CHILD! I- I’M SO PROUD! ಥ_ಥ

"I've been waiting so long to hear those words." ME TOO

KOUSUKE! YOU’RE NOT THE ONLY ONE CRYING!

"This guy... This guy's not a god of destruction, nor is he a perfect, flawless hero. He just happens to be a guy who was born a little before me. A guy I'm in love with." Awwww <3

Kousuke: You didn't get to make a wish, huh? Masahiro: It came true anyways. Masahiro: I was wishing I could see you again the whole way here. Kousuke: What a coincidence. So was I.

Perfect couple right there!

"I'm sure there are dozens of obstacles waiting ahead of us. But we can solve them together, one at a time. This is our proof." Don’t mind me... I’m just over here dying

"Man, I was trying to be cool and everything..." And gone is the mood -_-

Masahiro: If I die, bury this with me, okay? Kousuke: I'm probably gonna die first, though. Well, statistically.

Dude. He was trying to save the mood here!

"Hey, hey!" HEY! HEY! HEY! ...I think I’ll let myself out now #HQReference #SorryNotSorry

"Hey, hey! We're talking about way in the future, all right?! Stop, you're gonna shrivel up!" And now, you even made him cry -_-

"Well, it's your fault for saying mean, scary things to me!" But you were talking about dying first

"You're gonna quit smoking, and I'm gonna cook healthy meals and make you exercise regularly!" Setagawa’s mother mode activated!

"We gonna die peacefully together when we're a hundred, okay?!" Well, don’t let your dreams be dreams, right?

"Did you wait to break yours out because you were too embarrassed?" Most likely

Masahiro: Which one of us will die first and which one will live on... Kousuke: We've got plenty of time to talk about that.

Conclusion:

Maaan. That was one hell of a ride, wasn’t it folks?

I started watching this anime just because it was shonen ai - a genre that I’m just interested in. I started to post a few of my thoughts on the first episode - just because I really don’t have anyone to talk with it about it otherwise.

And then everything just naturally came together... I started to love this anime for it’s story, it’s character, it’s music. And I just wanted to share what I thought with the world.

We’re at the end now and I can honestly say I loved to ramble about this anime as much as I love the anime itself and I already miss both of them. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

#summer season #hitorijime my hero #1x12 #jesy's ramblings

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wildfirewinchester · 7 years

Photo

There are so many great fics out there that need to be recognized! If you find something you like on this list, be sure to show it the appreciation it deserves with likes, reblogs, and messages to the author! I hope you can find something to enjoy, and remember that if you’d like me to see your work, be sure to tag me in it!

Just a reminder that no all/mostly smut fics will be added. If they’re part of a series I will link non-smut parts.

Fluff

Fife by @lipstickandwhiskey (Reader x Sam) - I loved this! It’s definitely realistic because I think the Winchesters would often think the police departments were dumb and/or lacking, and Sam’s reaction and lines at the very end made my Sam!girl heart beat a little faster. Great job!

Pretty Darn Nice by @lipstickandwhiskey (Reader x Sam) - Ahhh, this was so amazing! I love when people write Sam getting the comfort he needs (because I’m convinced he needs it and never gets it), so this made me smile. And to see that you wrote it and tagged me up at the top made me feel just as loved as both Sam and the reader felt in your story!

For the Best by @d-s-winchester (Reader x Dean) - You write Dean so well! The ending for this made me all happy inside, even though there were little tiny bits of angsty feelings sprinkled around throughout the fic. Great job!!! Please keep writing!

Now You Don’t by @plaidstiel-wormstache (Reader x Sam) - I love Now You See Me, so I was really excited to read this after I saw the description! I think you incorporated all the magic stuff really well, and the whole explanation of what the reader did on the hunt was genius!

Imagine Cas Reciting Poetry to You When Your Mind is Troubled and You Can’t Sleep by @kaz2y5-imagines (Reader x Cas) - This made me so happy inside. Not only did you use the gifs of Misha so, so well (because those gifs are enough to make anyone happy), but your Cas just makes me feel so safe and happy!

The Guest of Honor by @revwinchester (Reader x Sam) - This was amazing and super fluffy! Thanks for tagging me, because I loved the overall idea of it and you wrote it so well on top of that. The reader’s personality compared to the atmosphere of the party and her family made me want to laugh, and Sam’s little freak-out about not being good enough for her was true to his character. Great job!

Locksmith by @mysupernaturalfics (Reader x Dean) - While I don’t read smut, I know that the second part of this includes it. If that’s something y’all read, I would recommend it because this part of the miniseries was AWESOME. All I can say is that I would definitely be locking myself out of things more often if I knew Dean was coming to my rescue. Everyone’s emotions in this were so easy to feel myself; you wrote it really well and I’m sure the second part is just as amazing!!

This Car (His Name is Riley) by @writer-picks-the-music (Reader x Dean) - This was so, so cute! I love dogs a lot, and this made me smile. Dean’s definitely a sucker for whatever would make the reader happy, so watching him interact with Riley at the end made my heart melt. Bonus points for having Sam with Riley, too!

She Can Hear You by @not-moose-one-shots (Reader x Sam) - I’m always so fascinated by fics including deaf characters, so this was awesome to read! You did a great job portraying the reader’s excitement at getting her hearing back, and all the comments from Sam were soooo cute.

Portrait by @just-another-busy-fangirl (Princess!Reader x Prince!Sam) - This was short and sweet, and I loved every word of it. It was absolutely adorable and I’ve always loved medieval AUs, so this was perfect! I’m so glad I found it!

Wet Paws by @trexrambling (Reader x Dean) - I don’t know why there are lots of dog one shots lately, but I am not complaining. This was so, so, so cute!! The puppy sounds paws-itively (hahahhaha) precious, and the beginning with Sam was so true to his character. This was fluffy from top to bottom and I adored it!!

Dive by @kaz2y5-imagines (Reader x Dean) - This was sooo incredibly romantic/cute, despite the little bits of angst due to Dean’s thoughts and pining. Nonetheless, I loved it! Listening to the song made it even better, too. (Also, I loved the bartender! He cracked me up.)

In-Between

Alone in the Woods by @whispersandwhiskerburn (No Pairing) - This was so ingenious! The concept was really weird when I read the description, but you wrote it so well and I just kept wanting to learn more about the world they were in! I also loved the incorporation of the song; it’s such a good song and one of my favorite songs from musicals. If you ever wrote a sequel or drabbles about this, I’d love to read them!

Unexpected Part 2 by @hanny-writes-spn (Reader x Sam) - I loved this! You wrote everything so, so well, and I could really feel everything that the characters were feeling. Sam would be such a great dad, ugh. I agree with the reader on that.

Dear Theodosia by @saxxxology (Reader x Sam) - I love your Sam writing, I can’t say that enough! The ending of this was perfect, and I loved every word of it. You somehow managed to make me want to listen to Hamilton, which I’ve never wanted before. Great job!

Imagine Getting a Call Out of the Blue From Sam and Dean Calling in a Favor by @kaz2y5-imagines (No Pairing) - This was great! The little things like Sam ignoring Dean and the fact that the reader kept commenting on Dean’s lack of tact made me smile.

I Wanna Take Care of You by @jotink78 (Reader x Dean) - It’s not common for me to read a lot of fics about readers with epilepsy because there aren’t a lot out there, so brownie points to you for writing one! It can be hard to write about things like this (I’ve tried several things myself), and I think you did a really great job! This was interesting to read and Dean’s reactions to everything were spot on.

Shots Fired by @torn-and-frayed (Pharmacist!Reader x FBI Agent!Dean) - This was great! I loved how Dean was prepared for it all, and the ending fluffy parts made me all happy inside. I hate to hear that most of that stuff has happened to you, though!! It made me so frustrated because the customers were being dumb, I felt for the reader!!

Prison Break - Part 2 by @torn-and-frayed (Reader x Dean) - I loved this! The first part was amazing enough, but this was such a great way to end it! (If this is even the end; I wouldn’t be opposed to more parts.) I loved the fluff at the end, as well as how you showed them bonding when she was in isolation. The angst in the middle was also so, so well written!!

Taken (Part 12) by @writingbeautifulmen (Reader x Dean, Reader x Sam) - This series is so amazing, and this part was so beautifully written that I had to read it a few times just to take it all in. I loved how you showed both Sam and Dean’s different reactions to John’s death, plus how the reader interacted with them based on that! This was so, so good!!

Angst

Betrayed by @percywinchester27 (Reader x Sam) - This was heartbreaking! I loved it though, and I made sure that after I was caught up with the episodes I went back and read it. I love your writing and this was no exception to your wonderful-ness!

Easy Peasy by @lipstickandwhiskey (Reader x Dean) - I loved what you did with the drabble I submitted! This was such an original way to use it (it’s definitely not what I would’ve done), and I loved the way you had Sam acting as a mediator.

Broken Ribs, Burned Feet, and a Hell of a Lot More by @saxxxology (Reader x Sam) - This was awesome! You wrote the stuff about Sam so well, and it broke my heart to hear everything about Sam’s torture. You’re such an amazing writer!!

Series Works

Links in the series section are always to the masterlist, or if unavailable, the latest post will be linked.

Somewhere, Someday by @jotink78 (Reader x Sam, Reader x OC) - This series is crazy! It’s definitely something that could be triggering so make sure you read the warnings, but I’m so intrigued by it. I love the way you’re writing how the reader is feeling and how she’s changing over time... It’s so crazy and it terrifies me as much as it makes me want to read more.

The New Princess by @curliesallovertheplace (Reader x Prince!Dean) - I love this series and I was so excited when I saw you’d posted a new part! It’s so exciting to see their relationship forming, and Dean cracks me up. He’s such a rebel prince and that makes me happy. I’m so glad you’ve kept all his little characteristic nuances in your writing; he’s adorable and charming and I love the way you write him!

If It Can Bleed by @imadeangirl-butimsamcurious (Reader x Dean) - This is such a cool idea! The reader’s character is amazing and I can’t wait to learn more about her personality/characteristics/abilities, as well as her past. Plus, the relationship between her and Dean is not only complex, but it makes me happy inside! I hope everyone ends up okay, please keep writing and tagging me!

Escape by @lipstickandwhiskey (Reader x Dean) - Oh. My. Goodness. I love this series so much! The whole ***spoilers*** psychic thing along with the warning signal for it makes me so curious about the reader, and I can’t wait to see how her and Dean’s relationship develops!!

Just Another Case by @whispersandwhiskerburn (FBI Agent!Reader x Mechanic!Dean) - The pairing itself got me interested in this, but now I can’t wait to read more! The reader’s characterization is amazing and feisty, and Dean is staying absolutely true to character. Plus, I’m a sucker for SamJess. This oughta be good!

Cry Wolf by @moonlitskinwalker (Sister!Reader) - This is such an amazing series!! I can’t wait for more parts, the cliffhangers are killing me! I hope it doesn’t get too angsty, but I won’t complain if it does. Your writing floors me every time, and I’m always excited when I see that you’ve updated!

Non-Reader Works

The Winchester Triplets - “What if Dean thought he should be doing... The Talk?” by @littlegreenplasticsoldier (Dad!Dean) - This cracked. me. up. I loved it so much and I think I was crying because I was laughing so hard. This was amazing and I’m glad you wrote these little stories!

Hanged, Drawn, and Quartered by Foolscapper (on AO3) (Sam) - This was so, so good. It’s solely focused on what makes Sam who he is, and I loved the way that it explored that. It’s really unique and definitely something I’ve never seen before. If you’re a Sam!girl, especially one who likes angst, I would highly recommend this!

Beelzebub Has a Devil Put Aside for Me by @chestercbennington , @spnxbookworm , and @winchesterpooja (on AO3) (Sam) - This fic was also super unique and such a twisty mix of AU and canon! It incorporated the relationship between Lucifer and Sam about the apocalypse really well. If you like angst and are a Sam!girl, I’d recommend you read this one, too.

Apples by @jpadjackles (SamJess) - This was a little happy and a little sad. I love SamJess and I love the nostalgic way that you write how Sam thinks about it now, even if it does make me sad. Plus, the concept of him and his fancy shampoo just makes me smile. Great job, Bronwyn!

#bunker reads #fic recs #reader x sam #reader x dean #reader x cas #wildfirewinchester #spn fics #spn #supernatural #fic recommendations

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