#the swell family are those kind of families with trauma and messed up past and they may have little arguments and such-

[echo-hiraeth]

Chapter 7: El Hombre con el Corazón Ardiente

Part of the “Illicit Limerence” series

Pairing: Javier Peña x F!Reader

Summary: After finally standing up for herself, Javier takes it upon himself to treat her to a lovely evening together. Yet the mere idea of what happened and what might still happen won’t let go of him.

Warnings: swearing, angst, suggestive sexual content, nudity, arguing, mentions of abusive household 

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“How’s that?”

You let out a moan, the mixture of his hot hands and the aroma of the water just plain entrancing.

He lowers his hand to that particularly sore spot on your lower back, rubbing it just the right way. “Words, hermosa..”

“Mhmm, ‘sgood, very good.. don’t stop”, you mutter groggily, eyes threatening to shut any second.

His breath fans against your ear as he huffs out a chuckle, lips pressing to the tender skin there. “Don’t fall asleep, we’re just getting started.”

As his hands move around to your front, softly grazing the underside of your stinging breasts, you flinch a bit. “Ten cuidado”, you whisper, lips moving against his cheek. (Be careful.)

“¿Confías en mí?”, he questions, thumbs rubbing over your hardening peaks. (Do you trust me?)

“Mhmm, depends..”, you teased, smirking up at him.

He frowned at you, trying his hardest not to smirk right back. “On what?”

“I trust you with my life in the field.. but at home.. seeing how you nearly burnt down the apartment like half an hour ago.. I’m not so sure..”

He grabbed a hold your chin, forcing you to look straight up at him. “Don’t get too mouthy now, hermosa.”

You leaned back a bit more, lips brushing past his. “I’ll do with this mouth as I please.”

He bit his bottom lips, hand sliding down to your throat. “As much as I want to take you up on that.. you need to heal up a bit more first.”

“I know, I just enjoy gaging reactions”, you purred, taking his hand off your throat.

“Never took you as the brat kind of girl.”

You pressed your lips to his for a short, sweet kiss. “You’ll find I’m full of surprises, agente Peña.”

Having keened his interest, you peeled his arms off of you, grabbing onto the rim of the tub as you went to stand. “W-where are you going?”

“Water’s getting cold”, you sighed, wrapping a towel around yourself. “And I would’ve fallen asleep.”

He got out of the bathtub as well, reaching for the other towel on the rack. “Your back feel any better?”

“Loads”, you walked up behind him, resting your chin on his bare shoulder as you captured his gaze in the foggy mirror. “Thank you.”

“You did good today.. I know it wasn’t easy but you’re doing the right thing”, he softly spoke, drying his torso.

“I’m sure others would disagree”, you sighed, slipping on the silky chemise that you’d laid out for the night. “I-I’m just really scared of having to go to court about it.”

He adjusted the fallen strap on your left shoulder, dragging his fingers to your cheek, holding them there. “We have hard evidence and maybe even witnesses. Whatever happens, I’ll be right here with you, corazón, every step of the way.”

“Ah fuck”, you muttered under your breath, tugging at the hem of your chemise.

“Feeling sick? Cramp? What’s wrong?”, Javier hovered over you, immediately turning around.

“Oh no, no, I’m okay, just.. this doesn’t fit”, you chuckled.

He looked at the way the fabric didn’t stretch over your hips, smugly smiling. “It’s all those hot meals Lopez gave you.”

“Or it’s the fact that you knocked me up”, you retorted, playfully smacking his behind.

“Take my shirts until you can buy some new stuff”, he suggested, ruffling a smaller towel through his damp hair.

You pecked his shoulder, walking out of the bathroom to pull a t-shirt out of his bag. As you turned you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. Oh wow, yeah, your breasts did look a bit fuller and your lower belly had somewhat of a curve to it. You turned a bit, watching yourself from the side and hesitantly put a hand on your swollen abdomen. It wasn’t necessarily a noticeable bump yet, but it was there.

“You look beautiful”, his voice sounded.

You whipped your head in his direction, his figure looking impossibly broad leaning against the doorway like that. “You’re just saying that because of these”, you taunted, gesturing towards your chest.

“I’m saying it because it’s true.” He walked over to you, grabbing the shirt from your hands and slipping it over your head. “But if you don’t cover those up I won’t be able to control myself.”

He gave a flustered chuckle when you pushed the fabric up against your nose. “Smells like you..”

“Fucking weirdo. Let’s go make some food.”

 Javier had improvised a dinner with whatever he could find in your cupboards and fridge. He managed to cook up some homemade garlic bread while you sliced and diced some vegetables for the main course, promising a great start to the evening.

When you’d practically inhaled half a piece, he grabbed a hold of your wrist. “Slow down, you’re gonna choke.”

You took another bite, closing your eyes as you fucking savoured it. “You’re making this every day now.”

“I almost burned the apartment down, again”, he reminded you.

You laughed, giving him the opportunity to take the half-eaten piece of bread from your hand. He shoved it into his own mouth, winking at you. You gave him an offended look, crossing your arms as you stared into his eyes. “That was a hate crime.”

“C’mon, you were gonna be full before dessert, I did you a favour here”, he taunted, wiping some left-over butter off your chin.

You smiled at him, cuddling into his chest: “Shut up. Now hands off, I need to check on the chicken.”

He laid back in the couch, watching as you made your way over to the kitchen, the fabric of his shirt swaying in rhythm with your strides. “Need any help?”

“Nope! Do you want a beer?”, you called.

Javier could get used to this. He never really imagined himself a family man, but spending the evening just in your company? That didn’t seem so unlikely anymore. The way he’d catch you looking at him, eyes shimmering with unspoken words of affirmation and adoration, he could tell you were happy. He couldn’t grasp it though, the fact that somebody as sweet and pure as you would ever settle for a mess like him. Maybe he was somewhat of a project to you, or maybe, just maybe you loved him as much as you’d claimed earlier that day. His heart raced just from looking at you. The way you were stood in that mirror earlier, cupping the slight swell of your belly, it had triggered something within his deeper conscience. He’d never admit it though – well, maybe one day, but tonight, tonight was good enough the way it was. Just the two of you in that damn apartment, getting to know one another. As much as he was enjoying the moment, he couldn’t help but feel somewhat conflicted about what had been revealed to him back at the office. The recounting of your childhood conflicts and traumas not leaving his mind, even as he watched you twirl around the kitchen, teeth-baring grin plastered on that precious face of yours. How in the hell did you do it, how in the hell were you this strong. He’d been wanting to talk about it all night, wanting to know everything, but he’d decided that you could use a break, even if it was just for one night.

“Hola Peña, ayudarme!” (Hey, help me)

He immediately got up from the couch, joining you at the stove. “Did you say something?”

“Yeah, just get me two plates and like a spatula”, you instructed, turning the knobs on the furnace.

He passed you the utensil, two plates balancing on his other arm. “So we uh, we’re like a thing now, right?”

You found the time to look at him and raise an eyebrow. “Are you joking?”

“Thought I’d confirm before like.. grabbing your ass at work or something.”

“Grabbing my- take these damn plates to the couch before I beat your ass”, you giggled.

He did as you asked, smirking to himself, thinking of the perfect comeback. “Gotta tell Lopez and Suarez somehow.”

“I swear if you bring it up one more time I will not have sex with you for a week.”

 The rest of the night was spend on the couch with a tub of vanilla ice cream to be shared between the both of you. You’d eventually just gone to watching tv, too tired and sore to do literally anything else. Javier didn’t complain though, God knows he was exhausted as well. It was no surprise really when he fell asleep with your head in his lap, fingers suddenly stilled in your hair. You’d noticed he was out before dozing off yourself, mouth slightly agape, drooling a bit. The two of you had been there for about an hour, completely knocked out when Javier suddenly jolted awake, startling you.

“Shit, sorry”, he gasped.

You sat up, placing a hand on his heaving chest. “What’s the matter, Javi?”

“Just a stupid dream, but I’m fine”, he mumbled, rubbing his eyes.

“Sit tight baby, I’ll get you some water.”

He closed his eyes, tipping his head back as he focused on getting his heartrate down. This hadn’t happened in a while, well he hadn’t slept that much anyway, so go figure. When he had nightmares they were never about himself but about others and this time it was about you. He didn’t know what your dad looked like, not even in the slightest, but the picture he created in his head was enough to make his blood boil.

“Here, drink up.”

He eagerly took the glass from your hands, downing it in just a few gulps, his breathing somewhat slower. As you got up to refill it for him, he tugged you back over to him. “Please just.. sit with me..”

You put the glass on the coffee table, taking a seat on his lap, a leg on either side of him. Balling up the shirt’s fabric in your hand, you gently swiped it across his sweaty forehead. “Wanna talk about it?”, you cooed, brushing some stray locks behind his ear.

“Just give me a minute, then we can go to bed”, he slurred, resting his head against your sternum.

The two of you sat there for half a dozen minutes, just wrapped up in each other. It was silences like these you cherished. The only sound his breathing which got calmer by the minute until eventually he was perfectly fine again, pressing a kiss to your neck before looking up at you. You let out a squeak as he cupped your bottom, standing up with you wrapped around him. He carried you into the bathroom, setting you down on the counter there.

“I’m gonna get some more water, you get ready, okay?”

By the time he was ready for bed, you were already sat on the mattress, writing down a grocery list as he emerged. “M’gonna head out to the market tomorrow, need some stuff”, you declared, pen wedged between your teeth.

“Just wake me up, I’ll come with.”

“I was actually hoping to go and meet Connie as well and help her out with Olivia.”

He took his shirt off before sliding under the covers. “I’ll take Steve out then”, he added, rubbing a hand over your thigh. “C’mere querida, I’m not done with you yet.”

 When you fell asleep exactly, you had no idea, but it took a loooong time. Longer than usual, especially considering the other half of the bed was constantly moving. Whether it was tossing from his left to his right or accidentally sucker-punching you in his flailing, you couldn’t pinpoint. You’d nonetheless made your way out of the arena, taking you pillow to the couch. It wasn’t as comfy as your bed, but the risk of a broken nose was significantly smaller.

You woke up to a pair of lips pressed to your head, a hand on your shoulder. “Did I say something bad?”, he joked.

You nuzzled deeper into your pillow, not wanting to open your eyes, painfully fatigued. “Fuck you.”

“That bad huh?”, he continued, kneeling down in front of you.

“Nearly kicked me out of the bed”, you mumbled groggily, opening one eye to look at him.

He pecked your forehead again, rubbing a hand through your hair. “Tell you what, you go back to bed and I’ll run down to the bakery for some breakfast.”

“I’m gonna be like.. really really hungry though.”

“I’ll get you the good stuff, now get back in bed.”

You kissed his lips as you sat up, swatting his bum in passing. The bed had never felt so fucking snug before, as you flopped down. Falling back asleep almost as soon as you hit the pillow. You’d get your revenge later, but for now, you’d linger in the warmth of his pillow.

As Javier headed down to the shop, he took the scenic route, aka going to the office. He was a nervous wreck knowing your case could’ve been reviewed already. He just needed to know, he couldn’t get it out of his head at this point. He was surprised to find Steve there, giving him a knowing look before joining him at the desk.

“And?”

“They approved, should get a response somewhere next week.”

Javier let out a sigh of relief, leaning back on the desk. “Thank fucking Christ.”

“Think she’ll be okay?”, his partner asked, genuine concern in his tone.

“She’s fine, if it was up to me he would’ve been rotting in there already.”

“It’s not that easy okay, she still had ties with her sisters… she just didn’t want to lose it all over-“

“Over her own fucking safety?”, he scolded. “I mean shit, probably would have never even told me if she didn’t get her ass handed to her.”

Steve shuffled on his feet, motioning for his partner to calm down. “It’s not something she talks about. Don’t take it personally, I knew her for years and also found out that way.”

“Don’t take it pers– that’s the mother of my fucking child, man! Can’t get much more personal than that!”

“You wanna play daddy now huh, take care of your girl? Don’t fucking forget who made her run home in the first place Peña.”, Steve snarled, poking his friend in the chest.

He grabbed two fistfuls of Murphy’s jacket, face dangerously close to his, eyes glaring into his. “You know jack shit.”

“You gonna get sick of this one too? Find another altar to leave her at?”

“I was there holding her when she screamed and cried, for hours, I kept myself together for her, still do. And you, you fucking just watched her get destroyed and ripped apart and didn’t do shit! Don’t even try to talk down to me man, check yourself!” He was shaking with rage, chest heaving in between strings of broken screams and curses. “I burn for her.”

Deciding to be the bigger person, he turned around, heading out of the office. He wasn’t perfect, hell, far from it, but he wasn’t about to let that fucker get to him. He was bigger, better than this. So he did what he knew best, going for a drive. As he pulled up to the sandwich shop, like he’d promised the anger has somewhat left his body, the only remnant the protruding vein on his neck and the furrow of his brows.

When he walked back into the apartment he was met with a welcoming silence. He left his shoes and keys at the door, just the way you liked it and headed straight for the bedroom. You were cuddled up in the sheets, lips perked up in an adorable pout.

I burn for her.

Even peacefully asleep you set his heart aflame, unleashed the passions he’d hidden away years ago. You brought out the things he kept tucked away, for fear of what might happen if they were ever to be unleashed again. Something about the way you touched him, the way you talked to him, the way you just treated him in general made him feel safe and rooted. It made him feel like a person, the monstrous persona he’d become chipping away with every brush of your lips. You were it for him, all he ever needed and all he’d ever want, you were his everything. Maybe one day he could tell you, maybe one day he could find the right words to say to you, he sure as hell wanted to.

It was a bit past noon at this point, the sun starting to shine through the curtains. The beams cast the room in a yellowy hue, the sheets looking incredibly inviting and soft in this light. He set down the bag on the other side of the bed, slowly sitting down, putting a hand on your shoulder.

You blinked a few times, squinting as you adjusted to the brightness within the room. “What time is it?”

The two of you sat in bed, eating sandwiches and just enjoying the slow day. He’d told you he went to the office and ran into Murphy, he discretely let out the part where he almost choked him out, instead said something about Connie and him being unavailable today. You insisted you could handle yourself for some groceries, but Javier’s big stubborn brain had reasoned again anything of the sorts. So not too soon after the two of you found yourselves in the centre of Bogotá, the market to be precise.

He admired the way you talked to the locals and the way they seemed to know you, smiling and offering you kind words as you passed by them. Despite being the one to insist he come along, he found himself bored within minutes, straying from your side a bit when he thought you took too long deciding between fucking soap or towels. Javier had always been a simple man, not one to stop and enjoy the finer things, but with you here, he didn’t mind it all that much. Somewhere along the way you’d pointed out a small café, wanting to grab a quick drink before finishing up on your shopping. He’d of course agreed, Javier Peña wasn’t one to turn down a fresh, cold beer.

“¿Es mi niña?”, an elderly woman called out to you.

You got up and enveloped the lady in a heartfelt embrace. As she kissed your face all over, Javier just quirked a brow, perplexed at the sight.

“Dios mío, ¿ese es él tipo?“, the woman cooed, “Muy guapo.” (My goodness, is that him? Very handsome.)

You blushed a bit at her words, before slowly nodding. “Rosita, este es mi novio.“ (This is my boyfriend.)

“Perdón, ¿me estoy perdiendo algo?”, Javier intervened, not sure what to make of the situation. (Sorry, but am I missing something?)

Rosita walked off after you asked her for something, giving you the opportunity to turn back to Javier. “I met her before I went home. She spotted me in the square and offered me a drink. I told her about what a jerk you were.”

He huffed out an awkward laugh before stowing his aviators in his breast pocket. “De acuerdo, soy un imbécil”, he smirked, sitting down across from you. “Nothing you didn’t know beforehand.” (All right, I’m a jerk.)

“Mhm, but a very persuasive one”, you teased with a teeth-baring smile.

“Persuasive huh?”, he taunted, leaning forward a bit, “You better behave, hermosa, no se burle de mí..” (Don’t tease me.)

He leaned back in his seat as Rosita set two glasses on the table. “Bueno, ¿cómo está el bebé?”, she asked excitedly, sitting between the both of you. (Well, how’s the baby?)

The two of you quickly caught up to speed on the whole baby thing while Javier just sat back and listened. He didn’t get the whole fussing about it, he actually found it rather annoying and off-putting, the way people would obsess over you and your baby. Eventually the conversation turned back around and Rosita was decidedly interrogating Javier on his behaviour towards you.

“Bueno, ¿y tú la estás tratando bien?” Her tone left no room for arguing or dishonesty, eyes glaring into his own, making him shift in his seat. (Well, are you treating her right?)

“Hago lo mejor que puedo, señora.. pero es del tipo testarudo”, he answered, winking at you. (I try my best ma’am.. but she’s rather stubborn.)

The old woman laughed, putting a hand over his: “Eso es lo que me gusta escuchar.” (That’s what I like to hear.)

 After about another half hour of the chitchatting you finally returned to the market, to Javier’s relief. He adored the old woman, but small talk and “high tea” wasn’t really his strong suit. He preferred drinking with the guys, free of puny conversation topics such as stretchmarks and morning sickness. You seemed to be enjoying yourself however, hence why he stayed seated, rather than finishing up your shopping himself. The two of you were casually walking through the stands, a feet or two apart, not wanting to raise too much suspicion in case any sicarios should see the two of you together. No matter where, Javier was always on his toes, having been familiar with the cartel’s practices for quite some time now. So when you’d go buy vegetables at one stand, he’d go admire the spices at the next one over, occasionally sneaking peaks at you. You were doing exactly that when he found himself in front of a stand with children’s toys and clothes. He rolled his eyes, cursing himself for just not walking ahead as the woman smiled at him.

“¿Puedo ayudarte en algo, cariño?”, she asked nicely.

He looked down at the table, sputtering out something about just looking when his eyes land on the tiniest set of little socks. He can’t help himself and finds the corners of his mouth curling up ever so slightly. They were nothing special, just a pair of plain white socks with some yellow stripes on them, but something about them made him pull out his wallet.

He stuffed them in his back pocket, turning around to see you over at the next vendor already, stocking up on the last of your groceries. Later – he thought – I’ll tell her later.

Taglist: @pedritomando @peterhollandkait @ophelia-ingenue @radiowallet @phoenixhalliwell @diogodxlot @rosiefridayrogersunday @a-court-of-feysand-and-elorcan @asta-lily​ 

#javier peña x reader #javier peña #javier pena #narcos #imagine #pedro pascal #illicit limerence

[eleanorbloom]

When You’re Ready Ch. 21

Pairing: Bryce Lahela x f! MC (Eleanor Bloom) x Ethan Ramsey.

Word Count: 5.7k

Warnings: Angst, mentions of anxiety and guilt, smut, mentions of child neglect (medical).   Rated E

Taglist @utterlyinevitable @binny1985 @shanzay44 @choicesficwriterscreations  @starrystarrytrouble @lahellacute @lucy-268  @cinnamonspongecake @romewritingshop @freckles-spangledvampire​@mercury84choices​  @curiousconch​ @thegreentwin​​

_______

Chapter 21: Keep On Loving You

And I meant every word that I said

When I said that I love you

I meant that I love you forever

 For the first time in days, she’d had a blank dream.

When Eleanor opened her eyes, there was no knot on her chest, no exhausting sensation of being pulled, no maddening sensation of wanting to die. No. This time she simply woke up.

She woke up well-rested and with a warm sensation enveloping her: his arms around her waist, his breath on her neck.

Home.

She turned around and found Bryce still asleep. It was a rare experience waking up before him and have the chance to see him sleeping. So she just observed him.

Couldn’t he be any more gorgeous while he was sleeping? Even with his open mouth, his lower lip slightly separated from the upper, his oblivious look, his hair a mess; he was beautiful, and Eleanor still couldn’t believe she was lucky enough to have him.

She bit her lower lip. The temptation of touching him was too irresistible, so she just surrendered and brought a hand to his cheek and stroked it. He was soft. Even with the incipient stubble, he was so soft.

These are the perks of being alive, she thought.

Tenderness invaded her remembering the conversation they had the night before.

The way he looked at her. The vulnerability, the candor. The pain, the rawness.

The truth about him. About his love. About his heart.

Bryce had opened his heart and her, without hesitation, dived in. And without hesitation, she would dive in a thousand times more.

That’s why she fell in love with him in the first place. That’s what made all the difference to make her fall for him. Knowing what no one else did and wanting to stay no matter what.

“Like what you see?” He muttered, with his eyes still close.

Eleanor chuckled, then pinched his cheek softly and playfully with her fingers, “Very much.”

His eyes smiled instantly the moment they reached hers, “How are you, princess?”

“Right now, grateful for being with you. I can’t promise how I’ll feel in the next minutes or hours, but I feel the progress.”

“That’s amazing, babe.”

She beamed and then leaned to kiss him, a soft caress on his lips, “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For pulling me back and talk me into my senses. I know there’ll be times I won’t be thankful, that I’ll relapse, but last night you made me see there are a lot of reasons to keep living for. Being with you is one of the most important.”

“Babe…” He frowned, looking somewhat ashamed.  

“What is it?”

“I feel like an ass.”

“What? Why?”

“Because last night, at the end I made it all about me, when you were the one who needed comfort, not me. But at that moment I just couldn’t…”

She shook her head softly, “No, no, don’t say that. This whole thing is not just about me. You suffered too. My family, our friends suffered too. You made me realize that. I was the selfish one just focusing on my pain, on my guilt, on my mistakes, and I didn’t realize that this was bigger than me. So… thank you for that. Thank you for opening up to me.”

He nodded, “I’m glad you can see it now. And please, whenever you feel like you don’t deserve to live just remember all the good you’ve done. All the lives you’ve enlightened with your presence, with your kindness, with your give. As a person and as a doctor. Not just mine, but your friends, your family, Keiki. Everyone around you. You do more good than any bad or any mistake you thought you made.”

She shook her head, amazed, “I’m so lucky to have you,” she whispered, looking adoringly at him, lost in his eyes.

“But I’m luckier to have you,” he clarified.

She arched a brow, defiantly, “Oh, now it’s a competition?”

“Nah, that’s a fact.”

Eleanor rolled her eyes, “I don’t wanna argue, but I strongly disagree.”

Bryce smirked and pulled her into a deep, searing kiss. She sighed the moment he pulled apart, “And you just keep proving my point.”

He kissed her again, but this time he pushed her against the mattress, “Yep, you’re not helping your case at all,” she giggled.

“I disagree, this just points how lucky I am of being able to do this,” he looked down at her with a bright smile, relishing in the sight of her smile, of her happiness.

“I love you,” she whispered, caressing his cheek softly, her eyes glimmering with adoration.

“And I love you,” he replied, brushing her lower lip with his thumb before leaning down to her lips.  

A warm sensation started to build inside her. Euphoria. An almost irrational feeling of happiness for being alive. And want and need, as never before. After feeling dead inside for so many days, this felt like an awakening.

She locked her arms around his neck to stop him from parting from her. At the evident gesture, he deepened the kiss, opening his mouth to grasp her lips with his teeth and then softly suck them with his own lips. The warmth kept building, now raising her heartbeat and breath.  

Then he continued down her neck, leaving a trail of kisses while a hand sunk under her pajama. She couldn’t help but gasping at the feeling of his warm fingers caressing the contour of her waist, and her breasts. At the hearing of her own sound, she pulled apart, “Wait, what about Keiki?”

“She’s not here,” he replied instantly, his lips now against the skin of her clavicle.

“Uh?”

Bryce parted from her and propped in one arm by her side, “She’s at the hospital with Kyra.  She doesn’t want to be here when I… When I call my parents.”

“Oh, okay,”

"You want me to stop?"

Eleanor shook her head, staring deeply at the hungriness of his eyes, and hearing attentively his want with every breath, “No. I want you,” she sighed.

Bryce smiled and then kissed her hard again, this time cupping her breast fully with his hand, while the other was roaming over her hips and tights, “if you want me to stop, just tell me, okay, babe?” he muttered, tenderness in his voice, looking for her approval.

She nodded, and at that moment, that warmth, that want melt into something else. Something new. What she wanted, what she needed was like never before.

Why he was always so considerate towards her? How could he be so gentle with things that she would never expect?

As her heart was swelling with this new sensation, she pushed him against the bed and straddled him, tenderness still set on her features. Bryce looked up at her with curiosity, but the moment he read the way she was looking at him, inquisitive, but sweet, and almost melancholic, that curiosity faded. It was replaced with vulnerability and yearning.

The door was still open.

Her thumb caressed his cheek, down his jaw, and up to his cheekbones, every inch inspected with earnest adoration.  

How could she not be the luckiest woman on the planet?

Bryce lifted a hand and placed it on her cheek. Eleanor nuzzled in it closing her eyes for a brief moment, softly brushing the back of his hand with her lips.

He gulped at the feeling of her touch, at her eyes piercing him completely, studying his eyes, his nose, his cheeks, his lips like never before. Discovering. Relishing.

She was exploring beyond that desire and that want, beyond the surface. She wanted to dive in deeper and decipher his vulnerability as if she knew she would find the most beautiful pearl at the bottom of all those layers incessantly built with the years.

Drove by instinct, she cupped his cheeks gently, and leaned down to kiss his forehead and temples, slowly and delicately; each peck as a precious promise, a gentle introduction to something he’d been missing all those years. Then placed a kiss at the tip of his nose, then over his lips, Bryce returning the peck with equal softness. When she parted from him, he was with his eyes closed, and a dreamy smile on his lips, lost in the sensation.

But when he opened his eyes and found her staring, a glint of fear crossed his face. This was new to him. He didn’t know what to do. He didn’t use to show this side to anyone. He had never shown this side to anyone before.

She brushed her knuckles over his cheeks, and he closed his eyes instantly, the ghost of a smile creasing in his lips.

That’s when she knew. She had found him at last.

What she was seeing, wasn’t the Bryce that everybody knew, his persona. No. She finally was seeing him under the surface, diving deeper and deeper, past his self-assurance and cockiness, past under his warmth, and niceness. Even under his caring nature.

At the bottom, all that was left was the desire to be loved, loved unconditionally and with no bounds.

That was Bryce Lahela. Raw and real.

The only thing his heart wanted, was to be loved.

And Eleanor couldn’t help but wonder: How is it possible that no one had loved him like this before? How? How no one kneeled to his kindness, to his generosity, his selflessness? To his loving nature? How could no one see him? How could people be so blind? How no one had been willing to give him the world?

Her eyes glimmered at the sight of him vulnerable, opening completely to her for the first time in his life. Imagining all those years by himself, dealing alone with his traumas and lacks. Convincing himself that he’d always be by himself, that no one could love him.

And Bryce looked at her scarer than before, panicking. As if he was sure that Eleanor couldn’t give it to him, as if it was too much, as if she doesn’t love him enough as she thought.

He trembled.  She felt his stomach quivering down her tights.

For Bryce, it was so easy to love, but so difficult to accept being loved. He never thought he would be worthy of being loved. Especially not this way.

He had been so broken. He had been so unloved. Rejected. Bullied. Ignored. Abandoned, even. And yet. And yet he was the most wonderful man she’d ever met. The most loving and caring. The man who gave her his heart expecting nothing in return.

Of course he deserved to be loved. Of course she would give everything in her to love him as he always should’ve been loved.

A tear streamed down her face before she could find the strength to talk, “You’re so beautiful. So kind. So generous. And loving. And caring. And cute, and tender. And compassionate. And clever. And I love you so, so, so much Bryce. So much.”

His eyes glistened. His lip quivered. His breath sped up. He was unrecognizable. There was no even a shade of the Bryce she’d know for more than a year.

“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I promise you I’ll spend my whole life showing how much I love you.”

He gulped. His eyes were full of tears. It was like her words broke him somehow. His past self. Or maybe broke something inside him. Something old and damaged. A shield.

Eleanor wiped the tears off his face and kissed him sweetly, trying to dissolve the pain in his heart, trying to fill that void with the love that was bursting inside her again.

Perhaps that’s why she was so full of love. It was never too much love. It was just that the void to fill was too big. For too many years of waiting.

And she kissed him again and again until the desire was stronger than the pain. Until the lump in his throat dissolved into a groan of pleasure.  

Until the desire grew stronger enough to make Bryce pinning her against the bed. He wasn’t back yet, the overconfident and expert Bryce, his features still showed vulnerability, but his eyes were studying her. As if looking for a hint of betrayal, of a lie, of faking. God, no. How? She could never. “Te amo. Te amo, Bryce. I love you so much” she reassured, staring deeply into his amber eyes. There weren't more certain words than those.

That was fuel. Because a second later he’s frantically kissing down her neck, while his hands were trying to get rid of her pajama. Her skin tickled and burned with every kiss, with every touch.

The sensations were intoxicating.

But there’s no hurry once he had her skin. He savored her, and she savored his touch. She and he got lost in the other, none of them craving for more touch or release. They’re loving every second. They’re happy with the connection.  With the unspoken.

Some things happened in a blur. A golden haze numbed them from everything. Love was intoxicating enough to make them miss the track of time, but not to miss a single bit of the sensations. Of how the other made them feel. How the love is so palpable with every caress and kiss, with every look, with every moan and sigh.

When their bodies connected, the haze simply turned into a warm bliss. As if what they’d been living was the best thing, the pleasure building inside proved them wrong. This was.

Bryce looked up at her, beautiful and powerful like a goddess, establishing a pace, panting, her body shaking with every thrust. “Oh my god, you feel incredible”, he groaned, and then sat up to envelope her in his arms and kiss her because he couldn’t get enough of her.

With his hands on her hips, he pushed her even deeper into him, “Bryce…” she purred, looking at him with a mock of desperation on her face, her cheeks flushed and her whole face glistening in sweat. She is glowing.

“Eleanor…” he gasped, losing himself in the honey of her irises. In the pomegranate scent of her shampoo, in the sweet scent of her skin. There, at that moment, he realized. He finally had what he always wanted, “You’re mine, you’re… Mine.”

“Yes," she sighed, her hot breath against his mouth, "I’m yours, and you are mine. You’re mine and I’m yours, love.”

“Say it again”

“I’m yours, Bryce, I’m completely yours," she promised.

Bryce had never been possessive. He was very far from that. But there was something about the fact that she was finally his. His girlfriend, his partner, his lover. That she had chosen him. That their love was mutual and reciprocated, and probably everlasting.

And Bryce never had anyone. No one who could hold him, who could love him, and now he had her. Those words were a simple sense of belonging.  

He kissed her hard and a groan crashed against her mouth. The shared moment electrified her body from head to toes, making her feel how her brain was slowly melting, shutting her down from any coherent thought. There was just one thought.  She needed release.

As if he’d read her, he started moving senselessly.

“Bryce” His name was sugar on her lips. The most exquisite elixir causing the most beautiful feeling inside her.

The pain. Sadness. Distress. Fear. Guilt. Everything was gone at that moment. It was only him and his touch, and his love. And everything him.

“And I’m yours. Damn, I’m yours, Eleanor, all yours” he groaned. It was only her and her touch, and her love. Everything about her. It had always been about her. It had always been her. It would always be her.

The way he spoke. His voice. Like a plead. Desperation. Like it was beyond him.

It was so intimate, pure. But at the same time so sensual. Carnal.

Eleanor pulled his hair on the back of his head, purring for the last time, “Bryce, love!” as her back arched, her whole body shuddering with the most divine sensation she’d ever felt. Buzzing, pure, sweet, warm.  A few tears had escaped her eyes, the sensation was overwhelming and healing.

A few moments later, one last grunt escaped his mouth. Visceral. Primal.

He remained with his forehead against hers for a few seconds before hurling himself over the bed with Eleanor on top of him. Then she rolled to the side to regain some coolness, their bodies were almost unbearably hot and sweated.

After a while, Bryce turned to her, smiling contently, and slid an arm under her neck and pulled her against him, her face barely inches apart from his. “Thank you,” he said, a hand cupping her cheek.

She frowned, “for what?”

“For loving me.”

The look he gave her broke her again. Open doors. But somehow… the void didn’t look empty. Not as empty as it was before.

It was glowing.

*

The moment shared that morning worked like a destressing charm for what was coming. Even if momentarily.

As if he hadn’t dealt with enough that week, now he needed to do something unpostponable. Call his parents.

He had planned to call them on Monday, after Kyra’s surgery, but with Eleanor’s accident, he prioritized other things, and Keiki was honestly grateful for that. Even if she agreed that Bryce had to call their parents, she was scared of what could happen. That’s why she preferred not being there when Bryce called them, and instead, decided to spend the day with Kyra, with whom had found a good friend despite the age difference.

After lunch, Bryce and Eleanor were sitting on the couch, waiting for Bryce’s mother to pick up the phone. After a few seconds, a feminine voice was heard at the other side of the line, “Hello?”

"Hi, mom."

“Bryce? What a surprise! How are you doing? How is Keiki?”

“She’s fine.”

“Is she there?”

“No, she’s with a friend.”

“A friend?”

Bryce rolled his eyes before continuing, “Mom, I called you because we need to discuss something important.”

“What would that be?”

“You really don’t know? Or you just simply prefer not to give a damn about your daughter?”

“Oh. You want me to go for her? Did you get bored already? You two lasted more than I thought.”

Bryce breathed deeply, containing his anger, “No, that’s not what I meant. I… I want to be Keiki’s legal guardian.”

A laugh was heard on the other side of the line, “You got to be kidding me, you, in charge of Keiki?”

“What’s the joke here? What I’ve been doing this time, then?”

“I guess just keep with your life with the only difference that there’s a teenager in your house when you come home.”

“Oh, are you talking about when Keiki was with you? Or when I lived there too?”

“What do you want, Bryce? Money? A ticket flight so you can send her back?”

Bryce's ears turned red in anger, “I want to be her legal guardianship, mother. School started here, I can’t enroll her in any place without your and dad’s authorization. I’m sure you don't want me to be annoying you every five seconds to make a decision that affects her, so that's why being her legal guardian would simplify things."

“Absolutely not.”

“Why not? You seem pretty comfortable with her being here, you didn’t even bother to come here to talk. You give a shit about Keiki, mom.”

Silence, but Bryce would tell she was resisting a snarl, “You really want to take care of her?”

“Yes. I want her to live with me, she’s not happy there.”

"Oh, Bryce, you should know better. You yourself were a teenager and everything seemed bad to you. We were monsters.”

“I’m 28 and that hasn’t changed.”

“You haven’t changed a thing, have you? Always with your drama and victimization. Now I understand why Keiki doesn’t want to come back, I can only imagine the things you’ve said to her.”

“Not very much different from what she’s shared with me.”

“And she wants to stay with you? She’s okay with being alone all day? You’re a doctor Bryce, you barely have time for yourself.”

“Well, I’ll make the time. I’ve made the time to be with her. That’s what we do for the people we love.”

Silence again, then, she stated, “I need to discuss this with your father, we can’t just let you take care of her.”

“I think you already did it.”

��I’ll call you in a couple of days.”

“Okay.”

The woman ended the call.

Eleanor stared at him. His face was unreadable, but it didn’t feel right.

“This doesn’t look good,” he said after a few seconds contemplating his cellphone.

“Do you think?”

“Yes. She feels… threatened. I guess they never expected that I’d ask to be in charge of her, they thought I’d give up after a month and I’ll send her back. But I won’t do it. Now more than ever, hearing all the shit mom said with just a call.”

“It’s like she doesn’t care about it, like she never did anything wrong with you, or with her. Like this is all a tantrum.”

“She’d always been like this, blaming me for the things they did, never take any responsibility with anything. Apparently they've been doing the same with Keiki.”

Eleanor saw the fear in his eyes and couldn’t help but reach out his hands and held them between hers. “You’re doing this for Keiki, love. And I know you’ll do whatever it takes to have her with you for good.”

“Yes, but what if it’s not enough? If for some reason, life keeps protecting them, keeps helping them and they get away with everything?”

“Let’s hope things with children are different than with insider trading criminals.”

“The lawyer with whom I spoke told me they had to be really miserable and negligent to lose Keiki’s custody, that my best option, in this case, was to obtain an agreement. But if they won’t agree with it, I will go to court if that's what it takes to protect Keiki from them."

That evening, when Keiki returned, Bryce told her about the conversation. Anxiety grew in both of them. In the three of them, actually, Eleanor was concerned too.

This situation felt like an escape from her own mind, something new to think about, something worthy to spend neurons in, instead of sulking all day in guilt.

The following days were odd. Eleanor and Keiki spend most of the day together, watching movies, silly videos, or just talking about life. Some other times they'd been on their own, dealing with their problems in peace. Eleanor didn't want to contaminate Keiki with her bad mood when the guilt was coming for her again.

Four days since the call, Eleanor was still sleeping when heated voices in the living room woke her up.

“You what? No!”

Eleanor got up and dressed up in a matter of seconds before sprinting to the bedroom door.

When she opened the door, she found an elegant woman standing in the center of the living room. She had black hair styled in an updo, sharp cheekbones, and pristine makeup, making her look younger than the age Eleanor knew she had, a couple years older than her mother. She was wearing an emerald green jacket over a black dress and matched heels. What she was wearing probably costed more than her intern salary, probably even more.

A few feet from her was Keiki, who gave her a pleading look when she noticed her presence. She was panicking.

“What’s happening here?” she asked, walking towards the woman.

“Oh, I thought you were alone, Keiki. And you are?”

“Eleanor Bloom, I’m Bryce’s girlfriend.”

“I’m Rebecca Lahela, nice to meet you, Eleanor. And Bryce?”

“He’s at work.”

“Oh. So he lets you in charge of Keiki when he’s not here?”

“No, I’m not in charge of her, I’m staying a couple of days so I can recover from an accident.”

“Oh, sorry to hear about that. So Bryce has you as her carer, Keiki? That’s why he doesn’t want you to leave?”

“Mom…”

“Excuse me, how do you speak to your daughter like this?”

“This is not your business, Eleanor, so stay out of this” She replied, dryly. “Get your things done, Keiki, we are leaving at 3 pm.”

“I’m not going anywhere. Does Bryce know about this?”

“Of course, he called me to take you home.”

“No, he called to ask if he could be my guardian, he wants to enroll me in school here in Boston.”

“What he really meant, is that he wants you back in Hawaii.”

“Don’t lie to her” Eleanor snapped, serious.

“Pardon me?”

“I was there when he called you. I heard everything you said, everything he said, and Bryce said loud and clear that he wants to be Keiki’s legal guardian, that he doesn’t want to send Keiki back.

“Well, I won’t let that happen, so it doesn't matter what he actually said. I won’t let you keep this rebellious behavior another second, Keiki.”

“I said I’m not going anywhere, and I’m not going anywhere.” Keiki insisted in a mir voice.

“You have no opinion in this. I’m your mother, I know what’s best for you.”

“Oh, so now you’re my mother. After two months of giving a crap about me, now I’m your daughter and now you remember your obligations as a mother? A little bit late, don’t you think?

“Don’t talk to me like that, Keiki.”

“But it’s the truth! I left almost eight weeks ago. You could’ve come seven weeks and a half ago, even just the day after I left Hawaii. But no. You just assumed I was with my brother and that I’d come back soon, and gave a shit about me. You did nothing but call me a couple of times and then you did like I didn’t exist.”

Rebecca’s eyes widened before giving her a guilty look, as she noticed Eleanor was observing the whole exchange, “We let you do your thing, darling. You wanted to reconnect with your brother, that’s okay but we thought you wouldn’t last two days. You wouldn’t tolerate the loneliness because your brother is working all day and you wouldn’t connect, since you haven’t seen him since you’re six.”

“Loneliness.” She repeated, her voice trembling. “Do you think I don’t know anything about loneliness?”

“Do you?”

“Do you even notice when I’m home? Like, really notice me? Not to dictate my life or ask about my accomplishments, my grades, or with who I hang out at school. Do you know who I am, what I like? What do I want in life? No, you don’t. I’m alone in that house all day. I’ve spent the last three years locked in my room for holidays because I have no friends while you do your life and pretend that I don’t exist, so, mom, I think I know a thing or two about loneliness.”

Rebecca snorted, ignoring the tears that were streaming down her duaghter’s cheeks, “You’re exaggerating things, Keiki, we do care for you, but you just don’t like whatever we say.”

“You almost let me die. You do not care about me.” Her voice was enraged.

Eleanor froze in her place, unsure of what she’d heard, “Keiki, what are you talking about?”

Keiki turned to her, her eyes full of tears, looking somewhat ashamed of what she had just admitted in front of her. She cleared her throat before speaking, “a month before coming here I had some stomach pain, it didn’t stop with anything. My beloved mother didn’t even bother to take me to the hospital, she thought it would pass with some Bentyl. One afternoon the housekeeper found me drenched in sweat, almost unconscious, and took me to the hospital because none of them were at home. At the hospital, they had to make me an emergency operation. I had appendicitis that turned into peritonitis. They should’ve done the appendectomy two days before, and if I had taken one more day, I might have died, or at least had major organ failure.”

Eleanor’s heart sunk at her words, and probably then it just broke, “oh my god, Keiki.”

“We didn’t know it was that severe. She just downplayed her pain, she was going to school as normal.”

“Because you forced me! Because you minimized my pain and thought I was just trying to get your attention and have an excuse to not go to your shitty dinner...”

“Watch out your tongue, Keiki”

“You see? You care more about my vocabulary than what happened to me.”

At that moment, Eleanor ran to the room to pick up her phone, hands trembling and her eyes blurry with the tears. She called Bryce but he didn’t respond.  He texted him. Left voice messages. Nothing. Then she sent a message to the group chat. "Please, if you see Bryce tell him to call me ASAP”

A minute later her phone rang, it was Sienna, “Ellie, are you okay? I saw your text.”

“I’m okay, but I’m in a situation with Keiki and I need him to come home. It’s urgent.”

“Heavens. Okay, I’ll check the board.  Did you know if he had surgeries today?”

“He told me about one at 2 PM, he had only preops in the morning.”

“Okay, I’ll tell a nurse in case he’s at the OR”

"Thank you, Si."

When she came back to the living room Keiki was still arguing with Rebecca, “Keiki, I apologized for what happened, but that doesn't justify this behavior of yours."

“Why did you come now? Why now that Bryce called you, why you suddenly care? If he hadn’t called you, you would’ve not given a fuck, would you?”

Rebecca didn’t respond.

“Now, leave, because I’m not going anywhere with you.”

“I’ll give you the afternoon, Keiki. I’ll wait for Bryce’s call. If he doesn’t reach out at 7PM, and you don’t come into your senses, I’ll bring the police if it’s necessary, you hear me?”

Rebecca shouldered her bag and got out of the apartment.

The moment she closed the door, Keiki burst into tears. Eleanor ran to catch her in her arms, “Keiki, oh my god, I’m so sorry.”

The girl just sobbed, and sobbed, and sobbed. Incessantly. Like everything she had inside was flowing like an avalanche. All that she had kept for how many years, and all she had to repress after such horrible experience, “I don’t wanna go, Ella, I… I can’t go back there, now you understand why… why I can’ go back there?”

“Of course, but… why you never told us? Keiki, this is terrible.”

“I don’t know, I always tried to tell Bryce, but I knew I would start crying, and I’d lose it and I don’t like to feel like that.”

That story seemed familiar. Eleven years apart but they were cut from the same cloth. The same scars. The same behavior.

Eleanor couldn’t say anything. She couldn’t blame her. Keiki, like Bryce, had no one. She didn’t trust anyone, she barely trusted them. Saying something like that was too much for her.

“I’m tired of being strong, Eleanor,” she confessed after a while.

“You don’t have to be, not with us. We’re here for you, Keiki. Bryce will do whatever it takes to keep you with him.”

She didn’t know how much time passed, but Keiki had fallen asleep on her lap when Bryce arrived home. He knew his mother had been home but didn’t know any details.

As Keiki didn't wake up with Bryce's arrival, Elanor took a pillow and put it under her head, and covered her with a blanket before leading Bryce to the room, where she told him everything. The fact that her mom came to take her back to Maui, what she heard in the conversation, and all the things Keiki had told her after Rebecca left. The real reason why she decided to ran away and why she didn’t want to come back.

“I… I can’t believe it. She… could’ve died, Elle.”

Bryce was devastated. For her sister, for all she’d lived, and also because he was seeing the consequences, new unknown consequences, of having left Keiki in the past. If he’d been more present, she wouldn’t have lived that. “Do you realize that… that if I’d been closer to her, if we had spoken daily, or frequently, none of this would’ve happened? I would’ve told her to go to the hospital? She wouldn’t have been in danger. The fucking irony.”

“Love, you can’t blame yourself for this. It was your parents' responsibility.”

“But I know perfectly well how irresponsible they are. I should’ve at least doubted that they would treat her the way they did with me. But I assumed that things would be different with her, that they’d take care of her, that they’d care for her. But I’m realizing she’d been a ghost like I was.”

Bryce was livid with himself. Even if Eleanor tried to calm him down, there was just so much anger, so much guilt, that simple words or reassurance weren’t enough. Even if he’d been dealing with the guilt since Keiki was with him, there was still a lot more to unfold. And it’d be so much more after the bomb he received that morning. This was much worse than he thought.

“Babe, I’m sorry, I need to be alone now. I… I need to deal with this on my own.”

Eleanor gave him a sad smile before standing up from the bed, “okay, but if you need to talk, if you need anything, please tell me, you’re not alone in this, okay?”

Bryce nodded, his face emotionless, “I know. I just need some space to think.”

“Of course,” she whispered, stroking his hair before leaving the room.  

Bryce knew he wasn’t alone. Not anymore.

______

A/N: Keiki, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for doing this to you. I don’t know if Bryce’s parents are this crappy in the game, maybe we’ll never know, but they’ve been totally been neglectful with Keiki when she was at home, and after she left and they didn’t even bother to come to talk to her. So I think they’re not very far from being that shitty.

(This is just rambling, you can skip it)

Also, I’ve never been more nervous about posting a chapter as this one, and that’s thanks to the first part. (that’s why I moved it from ch. 20 to ch. 21, trying to delay “the inevitable”). Even if I loved writing it, I’m afraid you’ll find it too much? Like, too intense, like Bryce wouldn’t reach those levels? Personally I think he would. Well, the Bryce I’ve been writing all these months would, I don’t know if the game Bryce, because PB hasn’t gave him so much deepness unfortunately.

I’ve been meditating this scene for months, deliberating if it’s something he would do, if it’s too much, and most of the time my instinct told me he would react that way but under very specific circumstances, as it is to be feeling emotionally vulnerable (the conversation they had the night before, when he opened up to Eleanor like never before), and being in the presence of a very loving and passionate partner as Eleanor. I mean, people who had been alone, unloved, have a strange reaction to intimacy. Bryce doesn’t have problems with intimacy per se, but certainly it shocked him the way he was receiving love, that’s why he was scared. If he wasn’t that emotionally vulnerable he wouldn’t have shed some tears, but he had been very passionate, just as he was after that brief moment of heartbreaking vulnerability.

I don’t know. If I’m honest, I’m really proud of what I did there, I even cried, but I also know that not everyone has to agree with my interpretation of Bryce. I know I made him unrecognizable, and I explained why. This was just for that moment, it’s not that he’s gonna cry all the time now, or every time they have intimacy.

Maybe this explanation wasn’t necessary but I’m gonna leave it just in case :)

Hope you enjoyed the chapter. Thank you so much for reading! ❤

#bryce lahela #bryce lahela x mc #bryce x mc #bryce x casey #open heart #open heart choices #open heart fanfiction #choices #oh choices #choices stories you play #playchoices #pixelberry

[whumperfly-chaser]

Maurice- ch 1 | A Prologue.

I decided to tweak this story since I liked it so much, and add some chapters to it! I can't guarantee a smooth update schedule, since life is really hectic as of late, but here she is! The original post that sparked all of this was this baby right here!

T/W’s here: (Dehumanization, conditioning, ‘It’ as a pronoun, Burns from holy water, implied gaslighting, torture, poor living conditions, emeto mention (Vague), super fucked-up headspace regarding abuse, starvation, touch starvation, oral trauma, creepy whumper, Person as a pet.)

Next

It’s silent. It’s so, so very silent. The fanged looks across to find the same shut door, held shut with four different locks. It was locked from the outside, it knew, as every close of the door produced several clicks and pops that would echo out into the cold room. That was when its Master had finished his work on it.

It lies in absolute dread, quaking just at the thought that its Master could return at any moment. Fear seeps through its veins- its breath grows stifled, listening frantically for the sound of the door. And yet it can’t wait for him to return. It needs this. It needs someone- anyone to be there. It’s been weeks. Weeks of no blood- of no touch- no contact. Simply remaining in the dark with no other sense of time past the open and close of that very door in front of it.

Sure, on days where it had been particularly disobedient, it was to remain without contact for longer, but that had been ages ago. That is- before Master learned of corporal punishment.

Hunger shook through its frail body. How many days had it been without food? It was wrought with need- yet it had gone through worse before. All it needed to do was tolerate it, yet it couldn’t even do that. It was starting to break in its resolve. Further proving how weak of a pet it was.

Yet... Without blood... Without food, it would continue to feel the same agony of its wounds as though they were freshly made. Its very veins burn for something other than ichor, and yet he swallows down the wretched and empty feeling around him.

It feels everything around it. Yet there’s so little input that it might as well be nothing at all. The most notable feeling is the hot burning of its skin, bubbling and blistering atop its open, weeping cuts and bruises. Any shift is agony, any crying would get it a harsher punishment. And so it wheezes, slouched over itself- only distending the abused tracks, marks and painful rips in its skin, left from the hooked metal prong of its owner’s belt. The painful, reddish-pink nubs on its fingers from sawing the claws down with a metal file, leaving dull, throbbing aches to radiate down its arm.

If it had some blood, it would surely heal these injuries, leaving only scars as a memory of its own insubordination. Perhaps this time, its Master decided it wasn’t deserving of his blood for now. Guilt dripped from its chest like lead- it did something wrong again. Nothing it did would ever be good enough. Nothing would be able to justify its existence. Every mistake only proved its insignificance.

It would need to be extra-good. It would need to be as perfect as possible, even though its very species was flawed and barbaric. It was ungrateful, after all. Ungrateful of the gift. Of the place to stay and inhabit. Ungrateful of its Master’s generosity.

Its thoughts slow upon feeling the input around it.

It’s quiet yet again. Ten feet away, it hears the cool trickle of condensation dripping down from the exposed wood beams of the basement, falling and splashing on the icy concrete below. Plick. Plick. Plick. Its long ears twitch faintly at the sound.

It hears its own shallow breath. Choked and stifled and blissfully uninterrupted. And yet it’s internally clawing at itself- aching for sustenance. Aching for contact- if just to prove it could be good.

It’s so tired. But it’s far too restless to sleep.

All around it is the smell of dust, sweat, mildew and blood. It smells its own blood more than anything else, the ichor as black as tar from its prolonged fast. The warm and tacky liquid flows slowly from the wounds lacing its back. Its filthy scent fills its nose with every breath. Every pant and gasp is nauseating and suffocating.

Despite the amount of time spent here, it never got used to the smell.

Cold drops of water plick against its wounds and it flinches roughly against the restraints that hold its arms skyward. The abrupt movement only exacerbated the frail patchwork of newly-scarring tissue. Thin, angular wrists bruise further and swell underneath the rough, unforgiving metal of the cuffs as it tries to remain still again. Too much rattling of the heavy chains against the bare sheetrock would alert its Master. If that happened… It would most likely starve longer.

Then he would bring the bottle out. Master would spray it with blisteringly the hot liquid, and then deliver a punishment so severe it wouldn’t be able to move for days. So it had to be good. It needed to be good. It must.

A weight held fast onto its still heart. If only it had been better. It always did something wrong. It was never good enough.

It had to be still. It had to be good. It had to be silent. After all, the only reason why it was in this situation in the first place was because of its own actions. It was bad. Master was just trying to teach it that. It was just too dim to get it.

Perhaps that was why it was still here- it believed its Master would come down, angry or not, if it screamed... But its throat only grew peeled and hoarse, and he was nowhere to be found.

It hurts… Wounds rub against themselves with the simple notion of breathing. But it cannot cry. It cannot make a sound. There can’t be any sounds. Sounds make Master angrier. It makes the beatings hurt more. It makes the wait longer and more intolerable.

Its body shivers involuntarily at this point, goosebumps blanketing its bare skin. It was so cold… It already felt sicker from the temperature alone. Its lungs heave and wheeze and thrum wetly, as though there was no more good air to breathe. It faintly knew that was its fault- it only befouled rooms and spaces. This is why it needed to be here. It needed to know its place.

Its place was here. It needed this. It needed to hurt. Perhaps if it repeated it enough times, it would believe it wholly, instead of feeling that minute ounce of pain within its heart upon saying it. Despite it all, it was familiar.

So why?

Why did he get angry when it was doing its best to be good? What was it doing wrong? It made sure not to cry out. To be still. But it only ended up with him grabbing the same bottle and spraying the healing patchwork of cuts with it. Only then, when it was crying and writhing on the ground, ichor seeping out to the concrete, would its Master smile.

Only then would it get the blood it craved- no- the blood it needed. Animal blood would only sicken it, expulsed to the floor like a poison.

Did it need to cry out to be good? Or move? No… Surely there was… Surely there was some way it could stop messing such simple things up. Its Master was kind, hosting filth in his home, providing his blood when it was good. Preserving it- it thought. Its Master was truly benevolent to ever consider feeding it in the first place.

The fanged licks at its torn, dry lips between shallow breaths, then at the rugged, flat edges of its fangs, filed, yet still tender. Just one wrong move sent pain shooting up the nerve from the exposed dentine. That’s how it always was, until the teeth inevitably grew back again post-feeding.

When things got so quiet… immobile… it would think back. Try and grasp the bits and pieces it allows itself to remember. Just to understand what’s happening. But it never goes too far back. Back when it had a name, when it could eat its fill by choice. When it had a voice- a laugh, even. When it had a family.

It doesn’t dare dream of that again. Vampires don’t get to dream. Vampires get to starve and decay so they don’t endanger the others.

At times it wonders if that person was ever real, or just a part of its hallucinations. Its owner says a lot of things aren’t real. This wouldn’t be much of a surprise. Perhaps it was always here, born for pain.

It hears its Master’s footsteps echo down the stairs. Blinding terror and pure elation echoes through its heart when it hears those clear, loud pops and clicks of the locks opening. Its entire body starts to tremble more violently, the blood rushing from its face to the ground. Just stay calm. Just be quiet. Don’t move or make a face. Make him happy. It tries to regress into the little space of its mind again, already preparing for the sight of the little bottle of agony awaiting it.

The door opens a lot faster than usual, but…

The person gazing back at it isn’t its Master at all. It’s a new face, rounded and wrought with worry, along with two more faces that appear in the distance.

Somehow, this is far more terrifying than any other punishment that could be dealt.

#whump #vampire whump #vampire #whump writing #captivity whump #pet whump #creepy whumper #sadistic whumper #tw whump #it as a pronoun #My poor boy deserves better #....after i put him through unimaginable suffering for over a year #and then some #anyway

[isaacthedruid]

Steven Universe’s Representation and Music: an informal essay

As the first animated Cartoon Network show created entirely by a woman, Steven Universe’s run lasted for five seasons, a movie and a sequel-epilogue series. The show was far from perfect and its fandom wasn’t the best either but there is something so special about a show that followed lesbian space rocks and a young boy saving the world.

More specifically Steven Universe is about a young boy named Steven, who is half-Gem, half-human who protects the town of Beach City from evil. Gems are a kind of alien who take on the form of pastel-coloured women, to better assimilate with the rest of the world.

Rebecca Sugar, the creator, explains her colourful characters in a behind-the-scenes promo:

“I always dreamed of making a show that would have this mix of fantasy and reality. So, I wanted to make these fantasy characters that enjoy being with Steven as much, if not more than they enjoy being fantasy characters. The characters aren’t perfect and that’s what makes them so great.”

Steven’s family are known as the Crystal Gems, a group of rebels who fought against their government thousands of years ago and now live on earth. Steven’s mom, Rose Quartz was at the forefront of the fight, she did extremely terrible things and when she gave up her gem—-so Steven could be born—-she was left unable to form a body ever again. Steven, with only his dad and three alien women, must attempt to fix her messes and deal with the repercussions of his mother’s actions.

One of the main mechanics within the series is known as fusion, in which two or more Gems become a single being who is stronger and more powerful. The fused form takes on the physical, mental and emotional aspects of those who are part of the bond. As mentioned and discussed many times within this blog, fusions are a physical embodiment of different kinds of relationships. And for a show starring a primarily female cast, they do not shy away from using this mechanic to tell queer stories.

So explicitly that in 2018, the show had the first-ever lesbian wedding in a cartoon. Of course, representation wasn’t always as accepted in Steven Universe. Just two years before the big wedding, higher-ups at Cartoon Network told Rebecca Sugar, they not happy with the multiple queer relationships, so much so that they were ready to threaten cancellation.

In an interview with Entertainment Weekly, she expressed:

“If this is going to cost me my show that’s fine because this is a huge injustice and I need to be able to represent myself and my team through this show and anything less would be unfair to my audience.”

Being LGBT herself, identifying as bisexual and non-binary, representation is important to her. For many queer people, especially grown-ups, they hope to see themselves represented in kids’ media today as they never had growing up. They want nothing more for children’s shows to say that being “different” or not fitting in with our heteronormative society is actually normal.

Within Steven Universe, you can find woman-loving-woman relationships, non-binary and intersex characters, woman-loving-non-binary relationships, asexual coded characters and basically every other letter in the acronym.

Rebecca Sugar even acted as the exciting force for LGBT inclusion within Adventure Time, originally working as a writer and storyboard artist before leaving to create her own show. She pushed for making the ex-romantic queer couple to be canonically part of the story and for it to not just coded into the dialogue.

A few years later, she returned to the show, multiple times, to compose over 20 songs that would air over the series 10-year-long run such as, “I’m Just Your Problem” which had lesbian subtext that would be confirmed later.

Some other iconic songs including “Fry Song“, “Remember You“, “Good Little Girl“, “Everything Stays” and even the finale song, “Time Adventure“.

Much like the show as a whole, there is something so special about the music she writes. In total, there were over 160 songs written for the franchise, some being short little tunes, no longer than a minute while others were full-blown musical numbers. No matter, all of them have their place within the show. Often when the character can’t express lines through speech, music is utilized to provide a more raw and poignant portrayal of their emotions.

Why Steven Universe is so widely loved is due to the music, as the overall story is not even close to perfect. Yet, everyone can agree on one thing, the music is unbelievably good. What is interesting is the different styles of melodies and backtracking used in the various songs, even more impressive is that every character has their own instrumental motif.

Steven’s motif is the ukelele as he is often seen playing the instrument himself, performing short little melodies and even writing the in-show version of the theme song. Additionally, Steven’s music uses a large amount of Chiptune synth, electronic music which is created using a programmable sound generator. Both instruments have a very childlike feeling to them, Chiptune especially as it is normally used in video game music like The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time, one of the main musical inspirations for the show. As Steven is the lead, most of the music has Chiptune somewhere in the score and fun fact, the first song in the show, sung by Steven, “Cookie Cat” was actually written on an old Gameboy.

Amethyst is very loud and fun, her motif is electric drums which is extremely reflective of her character. As she can be angry from convincing herself that she is not good enough to happy and giggling from pranking Steven, her instrument can be used in so many ways as she is not a simple character. No matter what, for the few songs Amethyst has on her own (or in the score), her drums provide such an interesting emotional response to the situation.

Garnet is a fusion, so her motif is actually the combination of two instruments. Ruby is a drumbeat as she is a fiery and loud character, she is chaotic while Sapphire is her opposite. Sapphire is calm and collected, she has ice-related powers and is represented by Synth music. The characters together have a perfect unity, expressed by Garnet’s synth bass sounds, she is the equilibrium of two very contrasting characters. The music associated with Garnet, uses primarily the synth bass but Ruby and Sapphire’s individual instruments can be heard throughout her music. All three instruments are also heavily representative as Garnet’s main dancing style is Hip Hop which clashing with others’ softer dancing styles.

Despite, not being alive during the show, Rose Quartz still has her own musical motif as she plays a large part in Steven’s growth throughout the series. As well as being in many flashbacks, she is represented with strings, more specifically, the violin. Rose’s story is rather sad which quite is visible within her associated music, yet, she was also an extremely powerful character as she led the fight against the Homeworld government. Her strength can be heard with strong uplifts and swells in the music. She is never seen playing an instrument unlike the rest of the main characters but one person who plays hers is Pearl, a character Rose was possibly in love with.

For the complex and beautiful character, Pearl, her motif is classical and swing piano. She is visually represented as a ballerina for a large majority of the series, dressed in a leotard, a small skirt and ballet shoes. Apart from Garnet, she is one of the calmest characters in the show. She is a perfectionist and is knowledgeable on many topics. She has a dark past and her fair share of trauma, all of this is wrapped up in her music. From her traumatic past with Rose Quartz, the violin had been heard throughout her music, yet, when she finally dealt with everything, the violin was lost. Swapped out for a new instrument, a bass guitar which she learned how to play at the end of the series. Pearl is a character who has been through a lot and her music reflects it. As she grew, her music changed with her, becoming her own instead of something built off of Rose’s.

My personal favourite song is “It’s Over Isn’t It?” which is this heartwrenching and emotionally painful ballad sung by a broken woman. Pearl was in love with Steven’s mom. Yet, the feelings were not mutual or at least ended being reciprocated as Rose left her for Greg, Steven’s dad. It hurts because Rose didn’t just leave her, Rose Quartz also passed away. As the song goes:

That they didn’t really matter until you I was fine when you came And we fought like it was all some silly game Over her, who she’d choose After all those years, I never thought I’d lose … You won and she chose you and she loved you and she’s gone It’s over, isn’t it? Why can’t I move on? … Who am I now in this world without her? Petty and dull with the nerve to doubt her What does it matter? It’s already done Now I’ve got to be there for her son

Without Rose, Pearl has lost her place in the world as all she ever knew was her. Yet, now she is left to help raise a half-human baby and go on with her life. It makes it more difficult as this baby is the product of Rose and the man that she left Pearl for.

Pearl doesn’t want to hate Greg, she is angry at him but she doesn’t have hatred towards him. They may not be the best of pals at the start of the series but in the song called “Both of You“ has Steven, finally, begging for Greg and Pearl to just talk to each other.

Why don’t you talk to each other? Why don’t you talk to each other? Just give it a try Why don’t you talk about what happened? … You might not believe it but you got a lot in common, you really do You both love me and I love both of you … I know you both need it Someone who knows what you’re going through

An interesting thing about this song is that Steven is this to them, the person with Rose’s gem is singing to the two people who fought over Rose. It makes me wonder if this could be Rose speaking through Steven to her two loved ones. Whether it is or not, doesn’t really matter to the overall story but it is a fun idea to look at.

Overall, these songs are a literal representation of dealing with ones’ emotions in a healthy way, something that Steven Universe actively tries to teach their younger viewers about.

To say Steven Universe is a good show only for its music would be a false statement, it’s one of the strongest aspects but without the story or the characters, the music would fall flat and not have any of its passion.

#isaac rambles #steven universe #lgbt #steven universe music #cartoons #cartoon network #rebecca sugar #cartoon review

[blackhakumen]

Mini Fanfic #471: Fireworks in the Beautiful Night Sky (RWBY)

9:08 p.m. Patch, Outside of Team JNPRO's Residence

Pyrrha: (Amazed at the Fireworks in the Sky While Snuggling Alongside her Lovers) These fireworks..... They've gotten a lot beautiful as of late, hasn't it?

Jaune: (Smiles Softly) Sure is.... It's kinda been a while since any of us sre them.

Pyrrha: Wait....(Turns to the Rest of the Team) You three haven't been able see fireworks at all these past three years?

Nora: (Rubbing the Back of her Head Back and Forth) Yeah....We haven't really gotten the chance see one.

Ren: We were still on a quest to stop Salem at the time. And given all of the events that happened during that quest....It gotten a bit harder for all of us to enjoy a normal holiday.....

Pyrrha: Oh....(Immediately Starts Feeling Bad and Looking Down on the Ground) I see.....

Nora: H-Hey, now! It's okay! There's nothing to worry about, Pyrrha. Really!

Jaune: Yeah! I-I mean, sure, we've been through literal hell and everything, but we've always found a way pull through.

Ren: (Smiles Softly) And it all pays off in end. Even now that you're here with us again.

Pyrrha: (Slowly but Surely Begins to Smile Again) ('Sigh') You guys are right...It hasn't even been a year later and we've already started to become more than just a team or even lovers....We became an actual, loving family.....(Frowns a Little in Worry) Speaking of which, where's Oscar? He's already missing the first half of the show.

Ren: He's in the kitchen. He said he wanted to make us a fresh batch of cookies, almost exactly how Mr. Xiao Long would make for us the last time we visited his home. It's ten minutes later and I'm already starting to get worried....

Jaune: About Kitchen or Oscar?

Ren: ............. Yes.

Nora: (Giggles Softly) Oh, relax, Renny. I'm positive our baby boy is going be okay in there........But if we have to wait another ten minutes, we're getting him out.

Ren: Sounds like a plan.

Pyrrha: (Giggles Softly) It seems we've became doting parents as well.

Nora: (Shrugged) Hey, when you have a farm boi who keeps getting himself to danger, you gotta do what you gotta do to be there for him, ya know?

Ren: (Rolled his Eyes) Nora started the whole "Parenting Role", in case you're wondering.....

Nora: (Pouts at Ren) I love him, okay?!!

Ren: So do all us, Nora.

Pyrrha: (Giggles Softly at her Two Lovers' Quarrel) Guys, c'mon. No fighting.

While the rest of the team were busy messing around, Jaune looks up at the nightly skies, filled with colorful fireworks. All of this while having a soft Smile on his face.

Jaune: Hey....You guys?

NPR: (Immediately Stop What They Were Doing and Turns to Jaune) Hm?

Jaune: Remember the time we all stayed at my parents' house the whole summer?

Nora: ('Gasps') Ah yeah! Remember that! You're entire family took us in and everything!

Pyrrha: (Remembers the Memory Very Fondly) Your mother and father were so kind and caring. Your sisters on the other hand.... (Giggles Softly) were quite a handful.

Nora: Are you kidding? They're were sooooooo much fun to be around!

Jaune: (Rolled his Eyes) For you maybe....

Ren: Are you still thinking about the time they tried to put make-up on the both of us?

Jaune: ('Groans in Annoyance') Yes....I mean, seriously! They been doing this to me ever since we were kids!! It's frustrating!!!

Ren: ('Sigh') Honestly, Jaune. It wasn't that big of deal. Granted, the make-up was a bit too much, but their choice of hairstyle on the other, did leave a pretty decent impression on me.

Jaune: That's because your hair is long and easy to work with! I, on the other hand, had short and shaggy hair. Which means I always end up with those... stupid short pigtails!

Pyrrha: (Pouts Playfully at Jaune) Jaune Arc! Those pigtails weren't stupid at all!~

Nora: Yeah! They look very cute on you~

Jaune: (Rolled his Eyes while Blushing) ('Psh') You two are just saying that.....

Pyrrha: (Hugs Jaune Affectionately) No we're not. We meant everything word of it~

Nora: We still love you no matter what kind of hairstyle you got for yourself. Even if it's a shape of a banana~ (Gives Jaune a Kiss on the Cheek)

Jaune: Really thought we were over the whole "Banana Hair" Shtick by now......

Ren: (Chuckles Lightly) Okay. As much as I would love to hear more inspiring insults towards of fearless leader's haircut, I'm kind of wanna know why you suddenly decided to bring all of this up, Jaune.

Pyrrha: Yeah.... Was there a special reason for it?

Jaune: (Rub the Back of his Head Back and Forth) Not exactly........I just wanted all of us to remember the few times we spent together. Our time at the academy, the missions we've gone to, the dance, festivals, the.....(Eyes Widened Once He Realized a Memory He Mean to Remember....As Tears Begins to Fall from his Eyes) tournament...., a-and.......('Sniff') And........

Ren/Nora: Jaune?

Pyrrha: (Immediately Starts Getting Worried) Honey? What's wrong?

Jaune: (Cover his Eyes From his Lovers) ('Sniff') I-It's nothing, you guys. Really. ('Sniff') D-Don't worry about it.

Pyrrha: (Gently Takes Jaune's Hand Away from his Saddened Face) Jaune, we know you're crying and starting to worry us. Please tell us what's wrong.

Jaune: (Finally Begins to Cry) I'm sorry! ('Sniff') I didn't mean to make you guys worry or anything. I just....('Sniff') I had think about EVERYTHING that happened to Beacon that day. Especially what....('Sniff') that monster Cinder did to-

Pyrrha: (Immediately Pulls Jaune in for a Loving Hug)

Jaune: (Taken Back from Pyrrha Sudden Hug) P-P-Pyrrha?

Pyrrha begins to take a deep breath before pulling away from the embrace and placing poth of her hands on Jaune's cheeks.

Pyrrha: Oh Jaune....I know those past few years weren't too kind to any of us....With me being dead and the rest of you went through so much stress and emotional trauma just to put an end to Salem....And I know this isn't easy to full get over....But I promise you here and now, as long as we got each other....(Tears Suddenly Begins to Fall Down Her Eyes) ('Sniff') We're going to be okay..... We'll get through this together.....('Sniff') And.... We'll NEVER be apart ever again!! (Pulls Jaune Back into a Loving Hug While Crying Softly)

Nora: (Frowns Sadly Once She sees her Two Lovers Crying Onto Each Others' Arms) You guys.......(Eyes Begins to Swell up in Tears) You know I hate seeing you like this! (Immediately Joins in on the Hug, Crying)

Ren: (Slowly But Surely Begins to Tear up As Well) ('Sniff')......

Jaune: R-Ren?

Pyrrha: ('Sniff') What's wrong, dear?

Nora: ('Sniff') I thought you said you only cry on the inside......

Ren: ('Sniff') (Tears Begin Fall Down his Face) Not anymore I don't.........

Nora: Well, don't just stand, Renny....('Sniff') Get over here and hug us already!!

Pyrrha: Please!!

Once Ren joins his way into the emotional group hug, the team turned lovers continue to cry their eyes out onto each of their embrace. All while the fireworks continues to show themselves onto the night skies. That is until......

'Front Door Opens'

Oscar: (Smiles Brightly (And a bit Tirelessly) While Holding a Tray of Baked Cookies) Okay! Sorry to keep you guys waiting, but I was finally able to bake the cookies for us tonight.

JNPR: (Looks up to Oscar with Teary Eyes)

Oscar: (Makes his way to the Group while Holding the Tray Carefully) Now I'm not entirely sure if it'll be as good as Mr. Xiao Long's, but-

Oscar's eyes begin to widened in shock and worry once he sees the rest of his family's tears filled faces.

Oscar: You guys...... I-Is everything's okay?

Jaune: Y-Yeah, bud. ('Sniff') Don't worry.....W-We were just.....('Sniff') Gotten ourselves into a Memory Lane is all.....

Oscar: (A Tad bit Unsure) Okay.....You guys know that I'm always here if you wanna talk, right?

Ren: (Smiles Softly) We know, son....('Sniff') And we could be anymore thankful......

Oscar: (Smiles a Little) You're always welcome..... And like I said before....(Joins in on the Family's Somewhat Emotional Cuddle Session) I made you guys cookies.

Pyrrha: (Smiles Lovingly and Tearfully) Oh Sweetheart, that's so sweet of you......('Sniff') We love them already....

Oscar: (Raising an Eyebrow in Disbelief) Guys, you.... didn't even try them yet. Heck, I'm still not even sure if they'll be half as good as Ruby's dad's are.

Nora: (Pulls Oscar In to a Loving Hug) Don't say that, sweetie!! ('Sniff') I promise we'll all love them. ('Sniff') Just as much as we love you!

Oscar: (Sighs as He Gives Nora A Kiss on the Cheek) I love you guys too. Just take as much time as you need to relax and calm yourselves before trying them out, 'kay?

JNPR: ('Sniff') Okay!

@optimisticfruitcup

@albion-93

@miki-13

@keyenuta

@rozanime

@ma-lemons

@maripr

#rwby #jaune arc #pyrrha nikos #lie ren #nora valkyrie #oscar pine #the arc family (mentioned) #taiyang xiao long (mentioned) #team jnpr as poly relationship #team jnpro #sweet family moment #remembering the past #humor #hurt/comfort towards the end #emotional fluff in the end #cuddling & snuggling #oscar is lowkey best son #independence week #have to edited it again to make it perfect. sorry about that

[lovemesomerafael]

El Amor Todo Lo Puede           Chapter 50:  Holding Your Breath

Source: @fortheloveofbarba

Chapters 1-45  Chapter 46  Chapter 47  Chapter 48  Chapter 49

************  NOTE: This is one of the endings to this story.  But there will a few more chapters, which can be considered an alternate ending.  After you read this chapter, PLEASE read the note afterward to decide whether you would like to read on.  ************ 

It was bizarre to Rafael that a place could be both hectic and dull at the same time.  He couldn’t understand how he could possibly be both terrified and bored.  He hated every slowly crawling second in this crowded, dingy waiting room; useless, out of his mind with fear for Laura, and unable to do a damn thing to help her.  He wished he could scream and throw every piece of crappy furniture in the room through the dirty windows.  He also wished he could crawl under the plastic couch he was sitting on, curl up in the fetal position and cry.  Instead, he did what he had been doing for the past – what, week?  He sat looking at his shoes, trying to tune out all the sharp sounds jangling his strained psyche. Every time a phone rang or an announcement came over the PA system, lightning shot through every nerve in his body.

Olivia came and sat next to him.  “You know,” she said with attempted lightheartedness, “I think this is the worst I’ve ever seen you look.”

“Oh, good.  It’s the worst I’ve ever felt.  I like symmetry.”

“Can I get you anything?  Coffee?” “Hell no.  I’m so strung out now I’m gonna fly apart any minute.”  He sighed heavily.  “Either that or implode.  I haven’t decided yet.”

She simply sat quietly next to him as they waited.  Hours passed.

Finally, mercifully, an older black man in surgical scrubs pushed tiredly through the double doors separating the waiting room from the surgical and recovery suites beyond.  He called for the Parker family.  Three quarters of the room stood and stepped toward him.  

A group of about thirty cops and firefighters gathered around the surgeon, naturally moving so that Rafael and Olivia were positioned face to face with him.  “You family?” He asked, looking around at the uniforms and badges.

“We are,” Olivia said firmly.  

He clearly knew first responders.  He asked no questions and didn’t hesitate.  “Well, the Detective’s out of surgery, and she’s stable for the moment. She got incredibly lucky, in one sense. The bullet barely grazed the brain. I’m not expecting any trouble there.” His voice lowered an octave.  “But that’s the good news.”

“And the bad news?”  Rafael’s voice cracked as he asked the question he did not want the answer to. Olivia put an arm around him.

“The brain is surrounded by layers of lining, with fluid in between, right?  It’s like a cushion between the brain and the skull.  Well, the bullet tore the hell out of those layers of lining as it passed through.  That’s what took so long, repairing that damage.”

“But you were able to repair it?”  Olivia asked anxiously.

“Yes, I was.  But the brain really doesn’t like to be disturbed.  When it is, its reaction is to swell.  And that’s the problem.  Detective Parker’s brain has suffered significant trauma.  And it’s already beginning to swell.  The skull is a limited space.  It’s bone. It can’t stretch.  So if there is enough swelling, her brain will begin to be squeezed against the skull, which damages it.  And if there is too much swelling, it can cause… catastrophic damage.”  

“Catastrophic damage,” Olivia repeated, looking intensely into the surgeon’s face.  She shot a quick look at Rafael.  Quietly, she continued.  “You’re saying she could die.”

“We’re doing everything we can to minimize the pressure, and we’ll continue to do that.  But yes. She could die.”

Rafael looked sick.    

“If we can get her through the next 48 hours, then she can make a full recovery.  But I need to be straight with you.  If you’re the praying sort, now is the time.”

The assembled cops and firefighters mumbled thanks to the surgeon as he turned to go.

“I need to see her.”  Raphael managed to croak around the painful constriction in his throat.  He was pretty sure he was going to vomit sometime in the next few minutes.  

The surgeon turned to him.  In a voice that conveyed his kindness and his understanding of the depth of Rafael’s pain, he answered, “We’ll be moving her to ICU.  As soon as she’s settled, someone will take you to the waiting room up there.  As long as she’s stable, we’ll see.”  He turned and disappeared through the double doors.  

Now that Laura was out of surgery, some of those assembled in the waiting room had to get home to their families, or back on duty.  With muted, somber voices, they said their farewells and shuffled out.  

Soon only Rafael, Olivia, Fin, Carisi, and Rollins were left, standing in a tight knot.  Rollins said, “So she’s made it through surgery.  That’s a start.  I gotta believe she’s gonna get through this.  She’s tough, you know?”

“Tough as nails, man,” Fin agreed quietly.  

“Look, I know I’m not going to be able to think about anything else tonight, but I gotta get home to the girls.  Please, call me if anything changes, will you?”

They all agreed that they would.  Rollins hugged Rafael and whispered, “Hang in there.  I’ll be praying for her,” before heading down the hall.

Fin, always protective of Olivia, tried to talk her into going home to Noah, but she said she wasn’t ready. “I’ll just stay until she’s settled in ICU,” she said.  

“I’m picking up her parents at the airport when they land,” Carisi said.  “I got just enough time to stop by the chapel and say a few hundred Hail Marys before I need to head out.  Call me. For anything.”

“Will do,” Fin assured him.  Carisi squeezed Rafael’s shoulder before he, too, headed out.

An hour later, Rafael, Olivia, and Fin were ushered up to the ICU waiting room.  One of the nurses came briefly out to the waiting room to explain that even the short trip from the recovery ward to ICU had caused a spike in Laura’s intracranial pressure and destabilized her condition to the point that the surgeon could not allow any visitors.  He promised that the surgeon, whose name was Dr. Webb, would come to speak with them again when he could.  

Time crawled.  After half an hour of total silence, Rafael looked pleadingly over at Olivia, sprawled in a chair across a scarred wooden coffee table from where he sat on another plastic couch.  

“How am I…  What am I supposed to do if…” he began shakily.  He couldn’t speak the thought.

Olivia went to sit next to him, putting an arm around his shoulders. “We’re going to get through this. Together.  One step at a time.”

From his chair next to the one Olivia had vacated, Fin said, “I got faith.  You gotta have some, too.  The man upstairs has got this.”  

Rafael just stared blankly, the tortured look in his red-rimmed eyes tearing at Fin’s heart.

“Hey, counselor, you know you can’t blame yourself for this, don’t you?  That asshole with the gun, he’s the one to blame.  This is in no way on you.”

Raphael’s features twisted with tired fury.  “Bullshit.  I’m the one he was coming for.  I should be the one in there with a bullet in the head, not her.”

“That’s not how it works.  You mess with one of us, you mess with all of us,” Fin replied.

“Fin is right, Rafa.  Any one of us would’ve done what she did.  It’s the job.  And when she wakes up, she’s going to tell you that.”  

The tortured look on Rafael’s face said everything about the hellish fear and guilt that threatened to tear him apart

They heard the swish of the automatic door into the ICU and Dr. Webb entered the waiting room.  All three stood up.  

“We got her stabilized, for now.  Her pressure’s still climbing, but I’m encouraged by her response to the drugs we’re giving her.  Listen, I’m not going anywhere, and she’s in for a long night.  I really encourage you folks to go home and get some rest.”

“I need to see my wife.” Rafael said.

“I figured you’d say that.  I can let you see her, but when I say ‘see her’ I mean stand in the doorway and look in at her for a moment.  That’s it. Any stimulation can increase her intracranial pressure and she’s already got two nurses in there with her.”

“I’ll take whatever I can get,” Rafael quietly assented.

Olivia and Fin waited while Rafael and the surgeon went through the doors into the ICU.  Moments later, Rafael was again ushered out into the waiting room.  He still looked ravaged, but perhaps a bit less wild with fear.

“How’s she look?”  Olivia asked tenderly.

All Rafael said was, “Tiny.”

At that point, Fin took charge, instructing Olivia that he was going to drive her home.  Looking at Rafael, he said, “I’m comin’ back.  I know there’s no point asking you to go home.”

“No, there isn’t.”

“Then give me your keys.  I’ll stop by your apartment and pick up a change of clothes for you.”  Of all the signs that Rafael wasn’t doing well, the fact that he mutely handed his keys over scared Fin the most.  

When they had gone, Rafael stood staring out the window at nothing. He prayed with an intensity born of terror, dimly hoping that something in his repeated pleas for Laura’s life would get God’s attention.  “Padre nuestro, que estás en el cielo, santificado sea tu nombre...”[1]

Around midnight, Carisi arrived with Laura’s parents.  Carol Parker tearfully enveloped Rafael in a tight hug that he found surprisingly comforting.  He quickly caught them up with the events that had occurred after Carisi left to pick them up.  They exchanged meaningless chatter about the Parkers’ flight from Illinois, and then Carol announced that she was going in to look at Laura.  Rafael mentioned that she might not be allowed to.  As she drily told him that she pitied anyone who tried to stop her, she reminded him so much of Laura that he caught his breath and teared up again.

“No disrespect, counselor, but I’ve seen you look better.” Carisi said gently.  “She’s in the best hands she could be, and there’s nothing we can do to help.  Why don’t you let me drop you off at home?”

“Not gonna happen,” Rafael growled wearily.  Carisi didn’t bother to argue.  He simply said his goodbyes, muttered some hopeful words, and left for the night.

Rafael and Laura’s father took seats at right angles to eachother around the coffee table.  Ed Parker leaned forward, elbows on his knees.  If he’d had any doubts about Rafael’s love for Laura, the look on Rafael’s face and the wired exhaustion in his posture would have resolved them.  Looking at him, Ed said, “Rafael, you look like crap.”

“So everyone keeps telling me.”

“We’ve been here before, did you know that?  Twice.”

“Hmmm?”  In his distress and weariness, Rafael wasn’t sure what Ed meant.

“Did Laura ever tell you what finally got her into rehab?”

“She said she had to have emergency surgery.  An ulcer.”

Ed rubbed his chin, remembering.  “There was a little more to it than that.  The ulcer perforated her stomach.  She threw up a pretty good amount of her blood volume before they got her to the hospital.  And the blood she had left had a potentially lethal level of alcohol in it.  When they took her into surgery, the doc told us to prepare ourselves for the worst.  So we did.  I think that was the darkest moment of my life.”

He paused and sighed.  “She was so beat up from drinking, I didn’t know whether she had any fight left in her.  And I didn’t know if she had anything left to fight for.  But she fought like hell, and she made it.  And then she went straight into rehab and fought like hell there.  And she got sober.”

Rafael got the message, but didn’t know how to respond.

“You know she was attacked.”

“I know.”

“Well, they said she shouldn’t have survived that, either. But she was absolutely not going to let that asshole win.  And she didn’t.  You’ve been married for over two years now.  You may have noticed my daughter can be stubborn.”

They shared what passed for laughter in the situation.

Ed touched Rafael on the arm to make sure he was listening.  “So here’s the thing.  I get that Laura’s in trouble, and I understand how serious this is.  I’m not kidding myself about where we are.  But this time, she has everything to fight with, and everything to fight for.  She has you to fight for.  I’m not trying to tell you not to be scared.  Hell, I’m scared to death.  But don’t you give up hope.  You said it yourself, in a fight, the smart money’s always gonna be on Laura.”

Rafael smiled weakly.  He realized then how glad he was that Laura’s parents were here with him. They were perhaps the only other people who could begin to love her as much as he did.  He also realized how fond he had grown of them, and that somewhere over the last two years, he’d formed a bond with Laura’s father.  Which is why Ed deserved to know that it was Rafael’s fault his daughter was now fighting for her life.  

“Ed, there’s something you should know.  This is my fault.  That bullet was meant for me.  There was a guy –“

Ed cut him off.  “I know what happened.  Sonny told us.  And I know my daughter.  It doesn’t surprise me one bit that she did what she did.  If you’re about to apologize, you’d be apologizing for Laura being who she is.  And that would just be absurd.”

Rafael could only manage to whisper a strangled, “Thank you.”

Carol returned from seeing Laura.  Sometime later, Fin returned with a gym bag that held some clothes and toiletries for Rafael.  In his uncomfortable chair, Rafael fell into a grief-induced sleep listening to Laura’s parents and Fin talking in low voices.

The next day passed in an endless drone of bored anxiety, punctuated by visits from friends and coworkers.  All the conversations were the same but, really, what was there to say? It felt to Rafael like standing on the edge of a knife poised over a canyon.  Standing there hurt like hell, but falling off would be worse.  

The only positive news was that Laura had no further pressure spikes since the initial spike when she was transferred to ICU and, by mid-afternoon, her intracranial pressure had stopped climbing.  Dr. Webb said that he was encouraged but, despite Rafael’s relentless efforts, would not revise his prognosis.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Barba.  I would like nothing better than to give you good news.  But I’d be lying to you.  There’s hope.  She’s holding her own right now, and we are going to continue to do everything possible to get her through this.  But her condition is still critical.”

“Doctor, when will we know?  I know you said the first 48 hours after surgery were crucial, but… how will we know she’s going to be OK?”  Carol’s voice was tearful, but determined.

“When she wakes up, we’ll know,” Dr. Webb answered.

Late in the afternoon, the surgeon returned to update the visitors gathered in the ICU waiting room, which included the entire SVU team.  Because Laura’s condition had been stable throughout the day, he said that he would allow one visitor to sit with her for a few minutes.  Everyone seemed to naturally turn their eyes to Laura’s mother.  

When she realized it, Carol said, “I know how this is going to sound, but I don’t think it should be me.  She needs calm and quiet, and I just…”  she had to pause a moment to sniffle.  “I don’t think I can go in there and look at my little girl with her head all bandaged, and that horrible monitor in her brain, and…”  she couldn’t continue.  She collapsed into Ed as he put an arm around her.

“Rafael, you go in.  Give her a kiss for us,” Ed told him gruffly, his own emotions dangerously near the surface.

“All of us,” Olivia added.

So Rafael found himself seated next to Laura’s bed, the room as dimly lit as possible with the sliding glass door pulled nearly shut to keep out the noise from the busy nurses’ station just outside.  The nurse had told him that he could hold her hand, but to keep their hands still and not to otherwise disturb her.  

He sat, simply looking at her, for a long time.  As his eyes became accustomed to the dimness, he took in the bulky, white bandage that completely covered her head, except for her pale, still face.  She had deep, dark circles under both eyes.  She breathed quietly and shallowly, the rising and falling of her chest barely perceptible under the blankets.  The banks of machines surrounding the head of the bed looked to him like the cockpit of an airplane – no, there were too many for that.  A spaceship.  

It was obvious how badly hurt she was.  Yet Rafael was astounded at how much quieter his mind was, how dulled his fear was, simply because he could see and touch her.  He didn’t have to wonder what was happening, because she was right there next to him.  So when, after about fifteen minutes, the nurse came to tell him it was time to go back to the waiting room, he simply and quietly refused. 

She tried to convince him, but very quickly saw that he was absolutely uncompromising.  He didn’t argue.  He politely told her he would not leave Laura, and didn’t move.  She left the room, and was quickly replaced by Dr. Webb. The surgeon had been here before. He recognized the situation for what it was – Rafael had no intention of doing anything that would endanger Laura, and no intention of leaving her.  It would be useless to argue, and would only risk disturbing his patient.  He reviewed the data from the monitors and, reasoning that Rafael’s presence had not caused any negative change in her delicate status, decided that there was no reason to press the issue.  He instructed the nurses to let Rafael stay with Laura, as long as she remained stable.

As the afternoon progressed into evening, the nurses noted that Laura’s intracranial pressure had fallen slightly.  Her blood pressure had also improved, and her pulse was a bit stronger.  Rafael sat quietly, one hand holding Laura’s, the other on the bedrail where he rested his chin on it.  He watched her, hour upon hour, as the evening went on.  The nurses wondered what he was thinking, but didn’t disturb him as they quietly and efficiently did their work.  

What he was actually doing was trying not to think.  He just wanted to be there with Laura, breathing with her, praying for her when he remembered to, and enjoying the occasional memory of something she had said, or something they had done together.  Too often, a vision of the moment the night before, when she had thrown herself at him to knock him out of harm’s way, intruded into his thoughts.  He saw her, again and again, register the movement of the shooter as he stood from his hiding place to fire at Rafael.  He heard her shout, felt her weight crash into him, relived the horrible moment when he reacted to the fall and she did not.  Saw her limp form, too much blood already pooling around her head. The overwhelming pain of those intrusive images sickened him.  Only knowing that he needed to be quiet for her kept him from groaning out loud.  He could not even begin to touch the bottomless pool of guilt that threatened every moment to engulf him.

As midnight neared he sat, eyes staring unseeing at her hand in his, their wedding rings touching.  He again thought back to her lying there on the ground.  He winced.  He relived the frantic scene as the paramedics worked on her, and the seemingly eternal ambulance ride to Mercy Hospital.  At the edge of consciousness, he caught a faint, breathy groan, like a sleeper reluctantly awakening with a colossal hangover.  He looked, startled to see Laura’s eyes drowsily looking back at him.  Her expression was confused, sluggish.

“You look terrible,” she whispered hoarsely.

Rafael burst into tears, even as he laughed.  He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it fiercely.

“Hi,” he finally managed.

“Hi.”  She replied in the same hoarse, tired whisper.  Her brow furrowed.  “Did I get beat up again?”

“You got shot.”

Her eyes widened in drowsy surprise.  “Huh.  That’s a new one.  Where?”

She moved as if checking herself, then grimaced in pain and put her hand to her head.  “Oh. Found it.”

Rafael smiled through his tears.  “The doctor says you’re going to be fine,” he said, kissing her hand again where it was still clasped to his lips.  

“That’s nice,” she murmured groggily, her eyes beginning to close again.

“I need to tell them you’re awake.”

“OK,” she sighed.

While Dr. Webb and the staff checked on Laura, Rafael went to the waiting room to tell Laura’s parents and the squad, all of whom were there, the news that she had awoken.  There were more tears at this joyful news than any of them had allowed themselves during the crisis.

Twenty minutes later, Dr. Webb came out to the waiting room. They all crowded around him.  “I’ve done a number of tests, and Detective Parker appears to be entirely neurologically intact.  I’m confident that, barring any unforeseen events, she is going to make a full recovery.”  More tears flowed and Carol actually hugged Dr. Webb.  

“What she needs now is rest.  Her body needs a chance to heal itself.  What I normally say at this point is that you all need to go home and no visitors until tomorrow.  And I am going to say that.  But first, she is insisting – no, she’s demanding – to see her husband for a few minutes.  I shouldn’t allow it, but she says if I don’t, she will get up and come out to him. I believe her.”

This threat, so typical of Laura, caused the room to erupt in relieved laughter.    

Rafael followed Dr. Webb back into Laura’s room.  Laura smiled sleepily and held a hand out to him. He sat down next to her bed, holding her hand in both of his.  Tears were running down his cheeks.

“I don’t remember anything.  But I can guess what happened,” she murmured weakly.

A curtain of pain fell over Rafael’s face.  He looked down at their clasped hands.  In an anguished voice he asked, “How many times are you going to get between me and a bullet?”

“Every time,” she whispered.

He shook his head and couldn’t look at her.  “Damn it, Laura,” he whispered.

“Amor[2], look at me,” she finally mumbled. Willing himself to comply, he dragged his eyes back to look into hers.

“It’s your fault I love you.  But this?  My choice.  Not your fault.”  She briefly winced in pain, and again had to rest a moment before continuing in her weak, scratchy whisper.  “Got it?” 

“You’re telling me you chose to get shot?”

“Wasn’t exactly Plan A.”  She gave a weak laugh.  “But rather me than you.”

“Not to me.  I would much rather get shot than see you like this,” he responded, his voice serious and full of love.

“Tough luck.  I got better reflexes.” 

They smiled at one another for a moment before she continued.

“Need a favor,” she whispered, becoming exhausted from the effort of speaking.

“Anything.”

“Imma crawl back under this morphine.  Sleep for a long time.”  She had to rest again, eyes closed.  She grimaced and gave a feeble groan.

“That’s an excellent plan.  What do you need me to do for you?”

“Go home.  Sleep too. Else I’ll worry ‘bout you.  Won’t enjoy my narcotics.”  

He closed his eyes for a moment and hung his head wearily, occasional tears still streaking his cheeks.  “I don’t want to leave you.”

“Hazlo.”[3]

“I’m leaving your parents here with you.”

“Don’t make me negotiate.  Got shot in the head.”

He looked up at her again, chuckling and crying at the same time. “There’s no negotiation here.  I’ll go home, but I’m leaving your parents here with you.  And I’m calling my Mami.”

She smiled tiredly, already beginning to doze.  “OK.  Te amo,[4] Rafael.”  Her voice trailed to a barely audible whisper as she fell asleep saying his name.

He took his time, simply looking at her.  Then he leaned over and placed the softest of kisses on her lips.  “Te amo. Dios, cómo te amo.”[5]

******

Lying between Rafael’s legs with her back against his chest, Laura laughed at a cheesy line spoken by a macho spy type to the woman he was trying to seduce.  She was getting very tired of the hospital, but at least she was in a regular room now, where she and Rafael could be snuggled together as they watched movies, or talked, or read.  She could feel him playing with the ends of the beautiful new scarf Lucia had given her to wrap around her head.  

“As many hats and scarves as your mami has given me, either she really hates my shaved head or she wishes she’d have had a girl to dress up.”

“Neither.  She just loves you.  She wants to spoil you.”

The raw emotion was back in Rafael’s voice.  The shooting had been much harder on him than it had on her. She wasn’t surprised to feel his arms tighten around her, and didn’t make a sound when he squeezed her hard enough to make her head hurt.  When his embrace loosened, she maneuvered herself around so that she was still laying on his chest but could see his face, and wiped a tear from his cheek.  

“It’s OK, amado,[6]” she whispered.  “I’m right here.  I’m fine.”

“I thought I was going to lose you,” he said, for the thousandth time since she’d been shot six days before.

“I know.  But I’m not going anywhere.  Haven’t you figured that out by now?  I would’ve thought when we got married, that would be a clue.”

Rafael leaned his head down to hers, closing his eyes and saying yet another prayer of thanks.

Laura reassured him again that she was all right, and the mood passed as quickly as it had come over him, the way it always did. The trauma counselor had said that this was the way it would be for him for a while, until he’d fully processed what had happened.  The counselor had also said that exactly what they were doing – being together doing normal things, and reassuring him as often as he needed it – was all it would take.

“Have I told you lately how happy I am?”  Laura asked.  “And how much I love being married to you?

“I actually have some time, if you'd care to tell me now.”

“Well, buckle up, Harvard, because it's a lot.”

Laura turned off the movie and spent a long time telling Rafael all the things she loved about him, and their life together, even though she was well aware that he already knew. He didn't mind hearing it again. And when she was done, he made her laugh, even while she cried a few tears of overflowing happiness, by laying out a quite logical, well-constructed, and entirely convincing argument why he, in fact, was more in love, and the happier spouse. After that, they lay cuddling in the dark, dreaming dreams together, and devising plans for making them all come true.

[1] Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name…

[2] Love

[3] Do it.

[4] I love you.

[5] I love you.  God, how I love you.

[6] Beloved

IMPORTANT ***** IMPORTANT ***** IMPORTANT****

This is the end of the story – a (YAY!) happy ending for Rafael and Laura.  I wrote it that way because I freaking ADORE Rafael Barba.  I also really like you guys.  I appreciate your reading this and supporting me while I wrote it more than I can say.

Please, if this is the ending you want, the only one you can live with, consider this that happy ending.  Because it is.  The whole reason I wrote this chapter the way I did is so we get this ending.  (Because I want it, too.)

But you’re going to notice that there are more chapters.  Here’s the thing.  I don’t want my friends coming after me with pitchforks and torches.  This can be the ending.  Or the rest of the chapters can be the ending.  Or, this story can have alternate endings.  IT’S YOUR CHOICE.  I absolutely do not want to upset or disappoint my fellow members of Team Rafael.  That’s why I’m including this note at the risk of being kind of a major spoiler.  PLEASE DO NOT READ THE REST OF THE CHAPTERS AND THEN FLAME ME BECAUSE YOU CAN’T LIVE WITH ANY ENDING OTHER THAN THIS ONE.  Please stop here, with my deepest thanks for reading and letting me know you were here. 

If you are OK with considering a different ending, and choose to read on, great!  I promise a happy ending, just a different happy ending. 

#law & order svu #law & order: special victims unit #rafael barba #raul esparza #chicago pd #chicago fire #chicago med #chicago justice #olivia benson #fin tutuola

[iamalexthomas]

The Past is Rotting Flesh

I have lost count at the number of times I've started to write about this, clammy hands and heavy fingers have always gotten the best of me, my heart beats at an unhealthy pace and I feel the blood drain from my face. I freeze, feel sick, and eventually, I delete every single word until the page is blank and white. If I don't say this, if I don't write this, if I don't allow this to have its voice then I will go on hiding, and the hiding is too much, I cannot live in the dark any longer. I've kept the light off for far too long and by me keeping that light switched off I invite chaos, self-hatred, fear, paranoia, and ultimate disaster into my life, time and again.

It is a new decade now, this feels like a clean slate, but I've had many clean slates before and I know they don't stay squeaky clean for long. It is time to face the biggest demon of my life, I'll pay no attention to my once again shaky hands...since my early twenties I have battled on and off with drug addiction. Today, right now, this is the longest I have been 'clean' for many years.

This is a heavy weight to have carried, I am after no sympathy or support or kindness. My purpose and agenda for being public about this is because the weight is too much, it's suffocating, crushing, and it is not a burden on my life that I want to carry for the next decade. My 20's were a mess of deceit and denial, the cliches are cliches for a reason. No one is textbook, but there are clear and present patterns for why so many of us become addicted to alcohol, substances, money, success, and so many more of life's pains and pleasures. It is not black and white, it's not a subject that you can understand from reading a book or from watching some terrible movie. I cannot go on ignoring the elephant in the room, I have done for so long and that elephant now has its own elephant.

The label of "addict" yields a universal stigma, for all my self-awareness and clarity comes the covering of ears and eyes. The label felt baggy and loose, it felt distant from me as if I was looking at a character and not really facing the mirror dead on and staring into the eyes of the reflection. "I used to be an addict" was a sentence I would roll out with ease, but this is a bent truth, "I am an addict" is more like it. I recover every day, every single day, and it is important for me personally to acknowledge this.

An addict can become a beautiful liar, I lied to everyone around me, I lied to myself, constantly. When you're getting away with it, you feel in control and unstoppable. Cocaine became my best friend, someone I could rely on, it would never judge or belittle me, it lifted and soaked me in confidence. I grew up a meek and self-conscious child, cocaine would slap me right in the face and tell me I was good enough, ready, and that I was boss. There was no situation that I could not handle, no person better, I was "it'. I embraced the euphoria like nostalgia, I would grab at any sweaty moment for a chance to live in utopia, come what may, the consequences were not important.

The very first drug I invited into my bloodstream was LSD, looking back now on my 16-year-old self makes me realise just how lost I was, acid is a hefty trip and not a drug for any naive kid to have in their hands. From one kind of acid to another, to cocaine, to MDMA, to heroin, to finally anything I could get my hands on, I slid that slippery slope. It's hard work keeping up a lie, it's impossible to keep several going at once. I must have tripped myself up hundreds of times with my stories, loose ends, and half-truths, I functioned on some level pretty well, to begin with, but as time went on and my issues got out of hand I lost touch with being able to maintain the basics. I needed a job to pay rent, to buy food, to pay bills, but really I needed a job to supply myself, my habits spiraled and swelled. My relationships with friends and those close to me became scatty and uncaring, I lost interest in anything other than my the need for maintaining an uncontrollable habit. The reasons I began taking drugs and the reasons I continued were the same, pain and trauma. The irony of addiction is that the means you use to escape the pain only leads you to more.

One vivid memory sticks more than others, sitting alone one evening in my empty flat, I only had the keys for that last night. My flatmate had packed and gone, I was sitting on the floor, not even a table to eat chips at. I had managed a week without taking or using anything, I wasn't sure what my plan was or what direction I was heading in, I played 'Nothing Song' by Sigur Ros on repeat from my phone, my hoodie was my duvet, I cried until I slept, I needed help, either too proud or pathetic to call or text a friend, this is a subject that you can't just casually let slip and then expect your life to carry on as normal. When I left the flat in the morning I headed for the hospital, that was eight years ago. In the years since I have used drugs on several occasions, but never in the same crippling and soul ending way I once did. That night was a start and a lonely glimpse into the torrent I could have travelled.

I've been blessed with songs, and art, and words, and these blessings have saved me, I was able to turn my ship around utilising them, I was able to attend rehab clinics and thrive. I fear the good in life and I worry that I won't be able to withhold all of my darkness entirely by myself forever. I'm awful at asking for help, and it is usually only when it comes right down to the wire that I finally do.

My ultimate agenda behind sharing this publicly is to make myself as accountable and as transparent as possible, there are questions about my past, there are reasons for the gaps of silence, I want to articulate my story so that it might help others, and unfortunately, there are so many others that need help. I have lost family, friends, loved ones, and relationships, and the overbearing cause has been my denial towards the truth of who I am. But I am not solely defined by my past, as no one should be. "A leopard never changes its spots" - true, a leopard cannot change its spots, but people are not leopards and THEY CAN change. There are reasons underneath the surface for why a person will become enthralled and engaged with the escapism of a feeling, a belonging, a drug. Addiction dances with your demons and never plays hard to get.

I will not hide and shy away from the fact that I mistreated others, that I made mistake after mistake after mistake, these are mine to own and make up for. I have a lifelong apology to myself to offer, and that's a rocky road, trust me. I am sorry to my friends, to those who are close, you didn't and you don't deserve this, and I don't deserve this, no one does. 2019 was a test, in its most difficult moments I had to face the same depths that I did when I was in a heavy cycle of using, I have often slept not wanting to wake up, the strength stripped from me.

Right now sharing this I feel like a freed balloon, my shadows are now being seen, heard, and shared. I cannot promise that I will be clean and unattached from addiction for the rest of my life, but I can promise that today I am free, and this life can only be lived one day at a time, I exist in this truth, not the cracks of the past that will haunt and reverberate my life forever. This known truth right here right now is the most precious, giving, and kind. I share this in some way as to admit that I cannot single handily maintain the darkness that stalks me, I do need support occasionally, and by me facing this as upfront as I can, I am hoping to stare it down when it next creeps up.

When I am overwhelmed, when I'm not able or if I'm ever lost, my past rituals and habits will not come and save me, as much as I may want them to. This might be a simple logic for you, but for me, this is a 'beat my chest my life depends on it' acknowledgment. Addiction is a wildfire that can ravage and strangle a life to the brink, if there is any single good to rise from the struggles that have plagued me, I hope it might simply be to help just one person steer away from using, or returning to their habit. I have long shuddered about this becoming a blatant known truth about my life, but it's never about the drugs or the alcohol, or whatever it might be that grabs you, it is about how these vices speak to our trauma or traumas. How they whisper to them and pull them from the darkest corners. No one who is truly balanced, healthy, supported, or loved, would happily put themselves through such a maze of devastation. There are always wheels churning behind the scenes that cause us to take a certain direction.

I head into this coming decade leaving behind the rotting flesh of the past, I cannot go back now, and I don't want to. Here is to thriving, all the very best to you for the coming decade.

Alex.

[thawedpatriot]

okay, my e.ndgame thoughts are below the cut. beware, they’re somewhat incoherent at times mainly just because my brain is still trying to wrap my head around some stuff. also it’s really really long. like 3k words long. major spoilers ahead!

-okay so the whole beginning felt. really rushed, if that makes sense? like, i’m glad that tony got back to earth fairly early on but that was very sudden, having carol show up and carry the ship to the compound. however, i can’t complain too much because watching steve book it to tony’s side as he was coming off the ship gave me life. the fact that he just hovered the whole time and was there to support him and show he cares just. pleased me.

- tony had every right to blow up at steve. i mean, god, the man’s been through so much. he’s lost so much and is still recovering from everything that happened. he’s frustrated and angry and hurting and steve pressed for information too callously too soon, and it set an exhausted tony off. totally valid. and tony was right, he saw all this coming and no one listened to him, even though half of that was just bc aou was a fucking mess writing wise. but steve told him ‘together’ and because they weren’t together when shit went down, they all lost. would it have killed either of them to call during the two years they had to do so? no, probably not. that probably would’ve been a step towards working back to that ‘together’ thing. because there’s years of unresolved tension and conflict between them at this point, none of it ever got resolved between them, so it’s finally coming to a head now that they’re properly in the same room again.

- that said, the ‘you weren’t there when i needed you’ bit rubbed me the wrong way. because it was bruce who ended up calling. tony never made a call, never asked for steve’s help. never let him know he needed him, even though he had that ability to. so yes, steve is at fault here too, but it’s not 100% on him that things went down the way they did, if that makes sense.

- tony shoving the arc reactor into steve’s hand???? killed me on the spot, thanks.

- the devastation steve must be feeling when they figure out the stones are gone??? gutting. he was so sure they would be able to bring everyone back wit the stones once they’d taken care of thanos. he was so ready for a fight, so ready to get his revenge and make things right, and there just. was no fight, no way to bring his friends back. he’d lost bucky all over again, and now he’s lost sam, too. sam, who he dragged into all this. that kind of guilt festers in him for those five years, no doubt.

- i wanna know what steve did for those five years. because, yes, we see him talking in that small therapy group, but not only is he giving advice he’s not taking himself, but he’s just not shown doing much of anything else. he’s holding on to all his trauma and grief and not dealing with it, just like he’s been doing since he left the ice. so what is he doing all that time??? but also seeing him in a therapy group setting made my heart swell a little bit because you know he did that for sam. he misses his friend and is doing that for him, i will not believe anything otherwise. sam was and is so important to him.

- this is unrelated to steve but is important to me as a bi: carol’s hair looked so good i made a noise when i saw it and my friend hit me in the arm 

- god i wish we saw more of steve and nat interact. because clearly they’ve been in contact with one another for the past 5 years and that’s probably the longest running friendship he’s had going besides bucky so. it’s nice to know he didn’t lose everyone in one way or another for those 5 years. they just know each other so well and recognize the similarities between one another and i’m just really glad he wasn’t all alone all that time.

- steve is so done with everyone throughout this movie, including himself. it’s beautiful.

- sidenote, i could not take bruce seriously as a character the way he was and i don’t know why. also they did thor dirty. they did thor so dirty. he was a joke until they needed him to fight. the level of guilt and trauma thor is dealing with is immeasurable and they turned it into comic relief by leaning into fat-shaming and joking about alcoholism???? nah man, that’s not okay. not at all. address that he’s dealing with ptsd, show that he’s using unhealthy coping mechanisms, and help him. don’t make fun of him, don’t just let him keep doing that to himself, help him. the only scene in the whole movie i genuinely liked with him in it was his scene with frigga. because she took him seriously, she was willing to listen and offer advice and tell him what he needed to hear. that scene was so important.

- another sidenote, as much as i disliked p.epperony in the past, this movie made me appreciate them more. because i’ve always loved them both as individual characters, pepper potts owns my whole soul, but as a couple they were just written in a way that made me not love it as the movies went on. however, this movie really showed growth in their development as a couple, in pepper accepting tony for who he is and the needs he has to do good. also tony is an amazing father and it’s just so validating to see a character who grew up with an abusive parent break the cycle and become soft and kind in any interactions he has with his daughter. you can tell how much he loves his family, and it’s what he deserved.

- okay so i hope we can all agree the time travel science in this movie was fucked and they did a really bad job at explaining how it works. it was not clear, did not make sense, and following standard time travel laws there were a million paradoxes happening and it makes me angry. nebula killing her past self? bullshit bc she should not exist after that. steve’s whole ending??? also bullshit but i’ll get to that later because that’s an essay in itself.

- tony giving steve the shield back was such a big deal okay. the fact that tony has acknowledged that holding onto the resentment was detrimental to his own health and being was so important. we got a handshake and i really thought they were gonna go for a hug but noooo that’d be too much to ask for i guess. but steve hasn’t seen or held that thing in like 7 years it has to be nice to have it in his hands again, seeing as he always refers to it as an extension of his arm and all. and to be getting it back, nice and polished, from tony probably means a great deal to him as well.

- okay now let’s get to the actual time travel bit. steve and tony being the ones to zap back to 2012???? my god its like everything i ever wanted was handed to me on a platter. that movie was what got me on this marvel train and as even with its issues, it holds such a dear place in my heart. so you know the second that ‘2012′ popped onto the screen i was ready to combust. and then it just got better because it felt like an extension of the movie, like we were seeing deleted scenes, which was just. really nice?? 

- god okay “america’s ass” gave me so much life as dumb as the whole joke was. because tony blatantly checking out steve’s ass?? my dude thats the gayest thing i’ve ever seen with my own two eyes. but then tony commenting on how his ass looks in the suit???? i was living, okay. living. and the fact that he checked out his past self’s ass and was like ‘yeah, damn straight’ amused me greatly.

- ngl the ‘hail hydra’ bit made me uncomfy initially, but honestly i’m just gonna appreciate how clever my boy is and how stupid hydra is. his ‘i’m clever and i know it and i just outsmarted piece of shit nazis’ smile as he walked away from the elevator with the case???? priceless. i was half expecting another elevator fight but i guess that wouldn’t really make sense sfdghj

- steve fighting himself? past steve reacting to the compass appearing and getting super fucking pissed over the concept that someone might’ve taken it or something??? the fact that it was ‘bucky is alive’ that had him going full stop???? oof. also, the ‘i can do this all day’ and ‘yeah, i know’ was funny initially but oh my god is my boy exhausted. he’s so tired. he’s been fighting for decades. someone let him rest. please. 

- also unrelated, i wanna know where the fuck loki fucked off to when he grabbed the tessaract. like is this where the concept for his spinoff show comes from???? what did he do????

- steve and tony being on the same wavelength and trusting each other??? steve trusting tony wholeheartedly even if he didn’t fully know what it was tony was planning?? important. so, so important.

- steve in camp lehigh. oh my god. why did no one recognize captain america???? it’s been twenty years, sure, but y’all slapped ‘birthplace of captain america’ on your sign and there’s probably pictures of his face around in more places than peggy’s desk. you’re telling me no one would recognize him standing in the middle of the military camp??? nah, i don’t buy it. y’all had poor disguises and didn’t even get him sunglasses or anything. c’mon guys, you’re better than this.

- okay look this isn’t a tony blog but what the fuck was that scene with howard,, i understand it in terms of why they included it when looking at the narrative. because of tony’s whole ‘resentment is corrosive, didn’t like it’ thing and the need for closure on that front before his story ends, but he didn’t owe howard jack shit, let alone a ‘thank you’. that man, even if he had the best intentions and wanted tony to succeed in the future because he knew he had potential, was neglectful and abusive. he was not affectionate, he did not make tony feel as though he were loved, and it deeply affected tony as a person. the fact that he doesn’t know how far along his own wife is with their firstborn child??? big red flag right there, friends. sure, it’s good to show kids with bad relationships with their parents that its possible to work through negative emotions and resentment and move on with their lives but this was not the example to give. tony did not owe his father anything at that point. he’d moved on, made himself better, became a better father than howard was to him. i’m just. so angry about it okay.

- steve looking through the glass of peggy’s office at her, believing this was the last time he was going to see her again??? broke my heart but i called it as soon as i knew time travel was involved in this movie. i knew they’d throw a ‘steve sees her while traveling and is really sad about it’ bit in there somewhere. and i would have been content if that was it, if that was all he got. if that was the closure he got, one last glimpse of her. the fact that twenty years later she still has the picture of him, before he was captain america, on her desk??? erases any of the development and growth we know she went through in her series and whatnot, but it’s a good reminder that peggy carter was one of the few people that saw steve for who he was. she saw the skinny kid from brooklyn and knew he had what it took to be a hero, she saw him for the good man he was. she loved him for who he was. that means a great deal to steve, who no doubt struggles with the line between steve and cap a lot. but by this point, peggy would have moved on. in the series, she had moved on. erasing all of that development is detrimental to her character and i refuse it.

- seeing jarvis again was a treat. i squeaked.

- what the fuck was that with natasha??? what kind of man-pain fuel was that??? and why didn’t she get the proper funeral/mourning she deserved??? she’s been around since im2, she was the one who united the avengers, she was the first female avenger (bc they swept janet van dyne under the rug but thats a whole other rant), and that’s the end of her arc??? as soon as i saw where her and hawkeye were headed i just knew. i knew what was gonna happen and i was hissing internally. because i knew there was no way she’d be like ‘yeah you’re my best friend, you have a family, you go ahead and jump’ and on behalf of all the mcu writers i wanna apologize to all c.lint.asha shippers for the mess the mcu gave y’all. i’m so sorry j*ss fucked it up for y’all bc he wanted something for two characters no one else wanted. she deserved to be mourned. she didn’t deserve to be forgotten for like the rest of the film after that initial ‘she’s gone’. she deserved a funeral, too. steve just lost one of his closest friends???? on top of everything else he’s lost, let him express that. please.

- so back on my s.tony shit, the ‘that’s my man’ when tony nudged steve awake to hand him back his shield after the compound blew up??? not heterosexual at all. y’all aren’t even trying to hide it anymore u bastards

- STEVE ROGERS USING THE HAMMER. Y’ALL. Y’ALL. MY BOY IS WORTHY AND I KNEW IT AND THIS MEANS HE SPARED THOR IN AOU BC HE’S A COMPASSIONATE LOSER WHO DIDN’T WANT TO HURT HIS FRIEND’S PRIDE AND FEELINGS. BUT GOD THAT WAS THE COOLEST GODDAMN THING I’VE SEEN ON SCREEN IN MY ENTIRE LIFE. HIM USING BOTH HIS SHIELD AND THE HAMMER AT THE SAME TIME, MAKING COMBO STRIKE OUT OF IT??? USING THE LIGHTING???? MAN I CAN TELL YOU WITHOUT A DOUBT THAT I HAVE NOT SCREAMED SO LOUD IN A MOVIE THEATER IN MY ENTIRE LIFE. GOD I LOVE HIM SO MUCH.

- all the ladies fighting together?? shielding peter???? kicking ass together??? gave me life. that was the most beautiful scene in the entire mcu,,, it made my bi heart burst,, all it was missing was nat, but it was a nice way to be like ‘this is what she started’. and seeing pepper out there as rescue was just the cherry on top okay i love her sm she’s so cool and finally fighting out there alongside tony and rhodey. my wife carol danvers is also the coolest??? not even flinching when thanos does whatever head-butt thing he was going for??? god i love my wives.

- ‘on your left’ god damn yes let sam wilson be the one to announce that they’re all back my boy deserves it. i wanted a proper reunion between steve and sam and/or bucky. we didn’t get that. we didn’t get that!!!!!! we didn’t get anything like that!!!!! steve was primarily on his own for 5 years because he lost his two best friends and we don’t get a reunion scene??? i call bullshit, marvel

- also rocket trying to shield groot with his own little body during the aerial attack??? broke my little heart??? like he just got him back and is terrified that he’ll lose him again,,,

- no one talk to me about tony stark i can’t handle it, he deserved to be happy and live a long life with his family. he deserved that happy ending, but i’m so grateful that pepper just. understood what he needed. she knew what he needed to hear and was there for him and could just ‘we’ll be okay, you can rest’. and give him that peace of mind. he did it, he saved the universe, he brought everyone back, he can rest. but god he really deserved to be able to rest with his family, happy and alive, okay.

- steve’s small exchange with bucky was like a nice reference to the first cap movie, but that was all we got. steve has spent multiple movies trying to get bucky back and help him, and we don’t even get a reunion scene and then just this one little bit of back and forth. a soft ‘i’ll miss you’, even though its technically only supposed to be seconds for them?? like,,, does that means bucky knows??? like, he has a feeling he knows what steve’s gonna do??? idk man, idk. all i do know is that they deserved better in this movie. i’m also summing up bucky’s telling sam to go talk to steve as bucky’s ‘i don’t know if i can handle that’ admission tbh.

- god bless sam wilson. between being the one to be like ‘bring him back. where is he? get him back.’ the second something seemed to go wrong with the time travel was,,, really nice. like, thank you for caring about my boy. thank you for always having his back. i love you so much sam wilson. and anyone who thinks sam shouldn’t be the one to get the shield can meet me in a back alley okay, this man has earned it, he’s the right pick for the cap mantle. the cap theme playing when he was given the shield? Iconic. did i cry whenever the cap theme played during this movie?? Absolutely.

- time travel in this movie is a fucking joke but i wanna know if steve had to see the red skull when he returned the soul stone because can you imagine??? that interaction??? like, did anyone warn him??? did anyone tell him the red skull was there or was it only implied when clint said something about a red man or whatever after coming back and being upset about natasha???? but also where did steve travel back to in order to start his new life??? were there just two caps in the universe??? one in the ice and one living his life w/ peggy???? none of it makes sense. none of it. where does the shield go/come from???? guys??? guys.

-okay now we address the end of steve’s arc. i’m gonna start by saying i see both sides of the discourse it’s stirred up. i understand the intention behind it, not wanting steve’s story to just be one big tragedy. because that’s where it was headed. if they killed him, he would have been fighting for decades on end without rest, without knowing peace, and that would’ve been it. that’s not the end people want to see for their heroes. he deserves to be able to put down the shield and rest. he deserves that ending for himself after fighting his whole life. However, the way they did it not only flattened his entire arc, but it flattened peggy’s entire character as well. she built a life in his absence, she moved on, and he knows this. he knew this, and i refuse to believe that steve would selfishly go back and disrupt that, take that away from her for the sake of his own personal happiness. that’s not steve rogers, a good and compassionate man. because think about the life he’d have to lead, knowing all he does. because if he isn’t supposed to disrupt the timeline, he has to let everything with hydra happen and infiltrate shield, something he knows peggy’s dedicated to, he has to let everything with bucky happen and be okay with not stepping in and rescuing his best friend from that horrific life/killing tony’s parents, he has to watch both tony and sharon grow up knowing everything about their lives??? (not to mention how fucking weird everything with sharon would be  considering the mcu just forgot about her after they made out in the parking lot???? sharon deserved better.) 

- this wasn’t an end of an arc, it was the flattening of an arc. he didn’t actually deal with anything that he’d been through. tws was all about how he needed to move on, peggy herself told him that the world was changing and he had to move with it instead of lingering in the past and what he lost. he was supposed to be building himself a new life, addressing what he lost and the trauma he’s been through and work through it all to push onward. that’s development. he got away with not working on himself or anything he went through, the group therapy was never actually beneficial because he didn’t take any of his advice, he clung to his emotions and grief and wasn’t able to move on and says as much. giving him this easy way out just feels lazy in my opinion. like they didn’t know what to do with him, wanted him to end up happy, and this was the only way they saw that happening because he wasn’t properly developed over the course of the mcu. i’m happy my boy ended up happy, don’t get me wrong, i was very close to sobbing over him finally getting that dance, but it was highly unsatisfactory in terms of a story and character arc.

#sir that is my emotional support canon divergence ( ooc ) #long post #endgame spoilers #avengers endgame spoilers #a4 spoilers

[worryinglyinnocent]

Defrosting, A Monthly Rumbelling Fic

Summary: Making cupcakes with Gideon is a messy business, and it falls to Belle and Rumpel to clean up their rather colourful kitchen…

Written for the @a-monthly-rumbelling prompt: relax, puppy, hair, cupcake, wash

Rated: T

=====

Defrosting

If there was one thing that Belle had learned since having a child, it was that her previous definitions of the words ‘messy’ and ‘chaos’ had been woefully inadequate. Looking down at the small explosion of frosting that had, up until a few minutes ago, been Gideon, Belle wondered if the kitchen was ever going to be the same again.

Still, they were having fun, and it had been her idea to make Christmas cupcakes with Gideon after all. At four years old, he was now of an age where the winter holidays meant something, and for Belle, that something had always included good things to eat. The nursery was having a Christmas party the next day and all the families had been asked to contribute something, so cupcakes it was. Gideon had decided that the cakes needed to be decorated in red and green and little silver balls, because they were Christmas colours. Belle had thought it best not to point out to her son his usual antipathy towards green foods. It was Christmas after all.

The cupcakes were never going to win any prizes for neatness or artistic flair, but they were sure to taste good. Gideon had been sampling the mixture and the frosting all through the baking process and had proclaimed them to be the best cupcakes that Mama had ever made, which had naturally given Belle a little swell of pride. Baking was something that she had always enjoyed despite the mess that seemed unavoidable whenever she and Gideon were in the kitchen together, and it had become their little thing, creating sweet treats whilst Rumpel was out in the shop. If push came to shove, she would even admit that she didn’t really mind the clean-up, that it was all part of the process and it wouldn’t be half as much fun if everything was clean and tidy all the time.

She surveyed Gideon again, moving the completed cupcakes out of his reach as one of his little hands reached out to grab another.

“You know, if you eat any more of those, Gid, then there won’t be any left to take tomorrow and the other children won’t get to see all the hard work you put into decorating them.”

“Just one more?” Gideon pleaded. “They’re so yummy!”

“They’re also crammed full of sugar that will keep you awake long past your bedtime,” Belle said firmly, beginning to put the cakes into a Tupperware ready to take with them the following day.

“But what if everybody at the party eats them!” Gideon exclaimed. “Then there won’t be any left for me!”

“I’m sure that there will be lots of other good things to eat at the party as well. You said that they were the best cupcakes we’ve ever made, so surely you want all your friends to be able to taste them too.”

Despite the frosting on his face allowing him to do a passable impression of a Christmas tree, Gideon’s pout was still in full force, and Belle sighed. She liked to think that Gideon did not have her wrapped around his little finger as much as he did Rumpel, but after everything that they had gone through in order to get him back, as unharmed from his ordeal as possible, she felt that their feelings towards him were entirely justified. He was the light in both their lives, the star that they both revolved around, and Belle wouldn’t have it any other way.

That didn’t mean that she was going to let Gideon have any more sugar before bedtime, though. She retrieved one of the cakes from the plastic box, seeing the way that his face lit up and then fell again when she put it on one side in cling wrap.

“There we are. If there are no cupcakes left after the party tomorrow, then you know that there’s one waiting for you here at home.”

“Can I have it now?” Gideon wheedled.

“If you have it now then you can’t have it after the party, and you can’t have the satisfaction of eating the last cupcake.”

Gideon just looked at her. He was a bit young yet to understand the concept of such things, his worldview being limited to the fact he wanted a sweet treat right now and for some mad reason, his mother wasn’t letting him have it.

“Come on,” she said. “Let’s get you cleaned up before your father gets home and sees the mess we’ve made.”

In response to this, Gideon did what any self-respecting four-year-old would do in the circumstances and began to try and lick himself clean, performing some very elaborate contortions with his tongue in order to try and reach the frosting smeared on his cheeks. Belle just sighed good-naturedly and began wiping the stuff off his hands whilst he was too preoccupied with his face to notice, before shepherding him upstairs to the bathroom to give him a proper wash.

“You have red on you too, Mama,” Gideon pointed out helpfully as she scrubbed his face with a washcloth, and she glanced in the mirror to see a smear of red frosting on her cheek. She had no idea how it had got there, but as Gideon often proved, mess could very easily get from one surface to another without the two seeming to touch.

“I’ll get it in a minute,” she said. “Let’s get you defrosted first.”

By the time Gideon was finally washed and in his pyjamas, Rumpel had returned home and was quietly wiping frosting off the kitchen cupboards.

“Yes,” Belle said a little sheepishly as she came in to get a glass of milk for Gideon. “I was hoping that I could get rid of all the evidence before you came home, but the clean-up process took slightly longer than anticipated.”

Rumpel raised an eyebrow, looking around at the rather colourful kitchen. “I’m amazed that there was enough left for the cakes.”

Belle just rolled her eyes and batted his arm playfully. “You’re incorrigible. And don’t eat that solitary cupcake, it’s saved for Gideon.”

Rumpel put his hand on his heart with an expression of mock offence. “Would I do a thing like that?”

“I know your predilection for sweet treats, Rumpel.” Her tone was a warning one that brokered no nonsense. “Sometimes I’m amazed you don’t turn into a cookie, with the amount of them that you eat.”

Rumpel looked thoughtful for a moment before conceding the point.

X

“I love Gideon, but four-year-olds are exhausting.” Belle flopped down onto the sofa beside Rumpel and accepted his warm arm around her. Thanks to his efforts the kitchen was spotless once more, and with Gideon finally safely in bed and sleeping soundly – the anticipation of more cupcakes and possibly other sweets tomorrow had kept him awake for an inordinately long time – they finally had a little peace and quiet to themselves.

“You wouldn’t want another one then?” Rumpel asked, combing his fingers gently through her hair. Belle sighed.

“I don’t know. I haven’t decided yet.” On the one hand, the traumas of her first pregnancy and Gideon’s first few days of life made her never want to go through the experience again, but on the other, those weeks would always be one of the darkest points of her life, and she didn’t want it to be her only memory of pregnancy and childbirth. She wanted a normal pregnancy, a full nine months of morning sickness, swollen ankles and all the related discomfort that went with it, with Rumpel by her side for the whole thing.

“There’s no rush.” It was a subject that they had discussed and skirted often, but Rumpel never pressured her into making a decision. “We could always get a dog.”

Belle gave a huff of laughter. “You’ve seen the chaos that Gideon can cause on his own; I dread to think what might happen if we introduced a puppy into the household.”

“Well, if today’s exploits are anything to go by, then there would probably be a frosting covered puppy running around wreaking havoc.” Rumpel didn’t sound to be all that concerned by the prospect, and Belle found that she wasn’t either.

“Not at Christmas, though,” she said. “If we get a puppy, we’ll get it in the middle of the year when there’s no other excitement going on. Although, in a town like this one, I don’t think that ‘no excitement’ is ever a guarantee no matter what time of the year it is.”

“Nothing major’s happened for the last four years,” Rumpel pointed out. “There’ve been the odd hiccups, but nothing world-threatening.”

“The accidental troll was two weeks ago,” Belle said mildly. “And the flying carrots were only a month before that.”

“Hiccups. Nothing that Regina and Emma couldn’t handle. And if the town can handle flying carrots then I think that they can handle us getting a puppy.”

“As long as you don’t get it in a deal and it turns out to be some kind of magical creature from a distant realm,” Belle said dryly.

“I don’t think that there are any magical creatures from distant realms in the animal shelter,” Rumpel soothed, and Belle gave a happy little sigh, closing her eyes and leaning back against him. It was easy to relax in Rumpel’s arms, and she would be quite content to doze off here, with the smell of cinnamon spiced Christmas candles and the twinkle of the fairy lights (Rumpel would be forever disappointed that they were not made from real fairies) on the tree.

The long fingers stroking her hair stopped, and Belle opened her eyes.

“What’s up?”

“I think you may have been attacked by a rogue cupcake, my love.” He held up a piece of her hair that was glued together with green frosting, and Belle sighed, realising then that she had never cleaned the smudge off her cheek either, and she glared at him.

“I’ve got frosting on my face,” she said accusingly. Rumpel just nodded, his smile impish, and Belle decided that it was time to respond in kind. Rumpel raised an eyebrow at her sudden smirk.

“Well, since I’m so covered in frosting,” Belle began, her voice almost a purr as she leaned in closer, “it looks like I’m going to have to take a nice long shower to make sure that it’s all cleaned off.”

“And would there be any chance of you wanting company in this shower?” Rumpel asked.

“Of course. I’ll need someone to tell me if I’ve missed any. And clean any frosting off particularly hard to reach places.”

“Then I would be happy to assist, my lady.”

As they made their way up the stairs, Belle reflected that she should probably make cupcakes with Gideon more often if this was how the day would end.

#rumbelle fic #A Monthly Rumbelling #rumbelle #Rumpelstiltskin #Belle French #Gideon Gold #Christmas Fic #Fic: Defrosting

[my-emotional-self]

Let Me Protect You Chapter 22/?

Pairings: Chris Evans x OFC Emilia

Word Count: 1,706

Warnings: Fluffiness

Rating: PG

A/N: This one is more of a filler chapter.  The last chapter took so much time to write so I was wiped out!!

Summary: After Emilia’s fiancé cheats on her, she moves to California to live with her brother Eric, who just so happens to be good friends with Chris Evans.  Follow Emilia and her roller coaster life through heartbreak, love, and emotional trauma. Will Emilia choose to let Chris into her heart, or will she remain broken and alone forever?

 One month.  One month had passed since you and Chris had made love the first time.  It was a blissful month; there was no doubt about it.  After your beautiful night together, the two of you sat down to really talk about everything the next morning.  You had been stupid and selfish about everything that happened at the party and you apologized profusely.  Chris thinking it was all his fault too, was apologizing left and right also.  After you both agreed that you were each to blame, you concluded that talk.  

You also explained to him that you wanted to do more therapy instead of just seeing your psychologist. Talking in the past with a therapist on a weekly basis had helped you, but you eventually always stopped making appointments and you found yourself back where you started.  Chris supported you 100% and said he would do everything in his power to make sure you set those appointments up and went to them, evening driving you if he needed.  

Chris also suggested finding a hobby to keep you busy when he wasn’t around.  After brainstorming together for a few hours, you decided doing craft things would be the best bet.  You always loved getting crafty growing up, as you didn’t have a lot of friends to engage with.  You decided that maybe you would even sell your items on Etsy, and try to make a little bit of money out of it while you were at it.  

The nights became longer as the days became cooler and soon you were well into the middle of November. As much as you didn’t want him to, you told Chris to go home to Boston for Thanksgiving to see his family.  He put up a fight, telling you he wanted to stay here with you.  You pleaded with him, telling him he should be with his family, especially since he hadn’t seen them in so long.  His final answer was no, and you didn’t want to push him anymore.  He told you he wanted to stay here with you because this year he was thankful for you.  He wanted to spend Thanksgiving with the person that made him most thankful.  That had you bawling like a baby in no time. You couldn’t even imagine why he would be so thankful for you, but he told you anyways.  He told you that you helped to open his eyes and mind.  You showed him how much more to life there was. That life can be so short for some people, while others take it for granted.  You were afraid his mother would be mad with you, keeping her son away from her on a holiday, but he reassured you it was quite fine.  He even stated that he talked to his mother about you and explained the situation and she wanted him to spend it with you.

Soon enough Thanksgiving came and you spent it with Eric and Chris.  It was nice to spend a holiday with your brother.  It had been such a long time and you truly missed it.  Your heart swelled as you sat at the dinner table with them; Chris carving the turkey.  You felt at peace.  It had been three weeks since any incident; no cutting, no outburst or temper tantrums. Your medications were actually doing their job.  You were thankful for the life you had right now; it was everything you could have asked for.

You were able to spend most nights by yourself, not having to rely on Chris being there for you.  Of course you loved spending nights with Chris, but you wanted to be able to spend some nights by yourself, proving to yourself that you had a bit of independence in you.  

Your relationship with Chris was going so strong, stronger than ever.  You were able to have (what you called them) adult conversations without letting your emotions get in the way.  Your conversations flowed much more easily as the medicine you were on helped to clear your mind.  Your sex life with Chris was something you could barely describe.  He pleased you in ways you never knew possible.  It was as if you two couldn’t get enough of each other; not that you were complaining.

Your two sessions a week with Patricia and one session with your therapist kept you pretty busy; Chris keeping you company on the other days and in-between.  You felt as if your life was thriving, it was actually going somewhere for once.  Selling your crafts on Etsy became an instant hit, and you were happy that you were able to make money.  You still had your settlement money from your mother’s case saved up in your savings account, but you didn’t want to touch that unless it was needed.  The money you made form Etsy was keeping you at bay more than enough.

It was a Tuesday evening, three weeks until Christmas, and you were sitting in Chris’ kitchen on a stool as you watched him cook dinner for the two of you.  You loved it when he cooked; he was so good at it.  He made sure to spoil himself now with food before he needed to start working out for the next Avengers film.  He didn’t start filming until mid-April, but he was going to start his workout regime around the middle of January.  

He plated the food for you and he and he handed you a plate.  Something seemed a little off with him tonight and it was making you a bit nervous.  You kept playing the events of the last month over and over in your head while you watched him cook but you couldn’t think of anything that would make him want to break up with you.  Deciding to forgo your nervousness and beat around the punch, you asked him what was wrong.

“You’ve been awfully quiet tonight babe, what’s on your mind?” you questioned.

He was about to take a bite of food before you threw him off.  He placed his fork back down and cleared his throat.  “I uh…I umm was going to ahh, to ask you something” he spoke, the nerves clear in his voice.  

It was way too soon for him to ask you to marry him; it had to be something else.  You didn’t want to make him any more nervous than he already was, so you gave him a playful smirk.  “And what would that be?” you teased.  

He softly chuckled at your teasing response.  “I was ahh, I was talking to my mom earlier today on the phone and she ahh, she really wants to meet you.  So I umm, I suggested to her that maybe you would come out to Boston for Christmas” he babbled out in a rush.  

You couldn’t believe what you just heard.  His mother really wanted to meet you?  You had only been dating about a month and a half.  You knew he talked to his mother about you, but you just didn’t know what exactly they talked about.  You had heard such great things about his mom and you really wanted to meet her too.

You got off your stool and made your way around the counter to his side.  You clutched his face in your hands as you asked “is that really want you want?  You want me to meet your family for Christmas?”

“Yes baby, I want to bring you home for Christmas so you can meet everyone.”

Leaning in you kissed him; kissed him with all the love and desire your body could muster.  You giggled as you pulled away from him, a huge grin plastered on your face.  “Chris I would love to go to Boston with you and spend Christmas with your family.”

You and Chris made love twice that night, needing to be closer with each other after your conversation.

He had another interview the next day so you decided to head home that night and he promised he would be by the next day when his interview was over.

The next morning you woke up with a pain in your stomach.  It wasn’t the kind that made you feel sick, but more of the gut feeling you used to get when something felt wrong.  You had to make sure everything was alright with Chris and Eric and after you texted them and they responded saying they were fine, you decided to just ignore it.  

You made your way into the living room where your craft table was set up and got to work.  What felt like fifteen minutes turned into three hours and you didn’t even realize it; your phone interrupting your work.

“Hey baby, how is everything going?” you asked, knowing it was Chris who called you.

“UUGGHHH” he groaned out in frustration, “kill me now.”

“Now why would I want to do that?” you chuckled.  “Because then I wouldn’t have anybody to ravish my body the way you do practically every day.”

“Oh I see how it is. You’re just using me for my magic fingers, tongue and dick huh” he joked back.  

“Well, and your charming and sweet personality, the way you make me laugh and feel protected in your arms, and don’t forget your good looks” you stated with a smile on your face.

A knock came from your front door and you turned your head that way.  A bigger smile appearing on your lips as you thought maybe Chris was messing with you and he was really here, waiting outside your door.

“Baby are you playing with me?  Are you here right now?” you asked as you walked to your front door to open it.

“What are you talking about Ems?  I’m still at my interview beautiful” he replied, a bit of nervousness in his voice.

You opened the door and your breath was immediately knocked out of you at the sight of who was there. There he stood, his 5’10 frame, jet black hair and clean shaven face.  The man you hadn’t seen in two and a half months.  The man who broke your heart by cheating on you.

“Charlie” you gasped as your phone fell from your hand and crashed to the floor.  

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#Chris Evans x Reader #Chris Evans Fanfiction #Chris Evans x OFC #Chris Evans #Chris Evans fanfic #Marvel #Avengers #Steve Rogers x Reader #Captain America x Reader

[americaforpresident-blog]

The Roots

This has been the hardest one to write and why it’s taken so long because it starts at literally the beginning. To really understand me you have to know why I am the way I am. It’s deeper than just being exposed to aggressive behavior and being cared for half the way by my parents, I mean basically all of that too but it starts at the beginning.

When I was growing up the neighborhood I was in was full of kids. I was one of the youngest.(Review diagram for best explainations of people and location) This neighbor was awesome when I was growing up with parents who were never there, because someone was always there to take care of me and I stayed at those houses so often waiting for my grandmas car to pull down the road after she would get home from work, That was pure happiness running out the door and down the road after her car...

I guess I should put it this way my parents were there, my mom was a stay at home mom but she has mental health issues I’m not really sure the details of them but I know for sure past drug use and some severe trauma as well, she wasn’t able to take care of me.

My next door neighbor in house #6 had a mom super similar I remember one time when he was still in a onesie he came walking out of his house and crying and his mom wasn’t even home to watch him. That was one of my best buddies though, he was 4 or so years younger than me but we stuck together a lot always out riding bikes and stuff. That was the good...

My neighbor in house #11 was the one I have told you had a disability, his name is Bradley, he was mentally/physically handicapped. He lived with his mom, dad and uncle who was a “recovering drug addict”. Naturally I spent a lot of my nights there being babysat by his mom (who I literally called mom for years) waiting for my grandma to get home and went on 100’s of family vacations with them, they took me to Disneyland the one and only time I have been, seaside, the mountains, it felt like family during those times.

During the day though when his mom wasn’t home and only his uncle was around watching us, he would make Bradley touch me so he could learn how to kiss girls, and flirt with him... and more... he would make me dress up in girl clothes even then I was only really wearing boy clothes, and would watch the whole time, he literally did so much weird shit... but at the time I was told and though it was okay I was helping someone who was basically a brother to me... I was told that kissing and things were secret and the whole don’t kiss and tell thing from his uncle. I never had time to adjust to finding out it was wrong until I was well into my teenage years, and by then I was very busy with sports and hardly had time to go over there anymore so the abuse had stopped, when Brad’s uncle died mentioned something to his mom and she came unglued and obviously a lot of truth came out and I got asked 100 questions only to basically find out I had been raped my whole childhood... he never touched me that I remember but so much is also blocked out and forgotten...

Then just a year later my mom started having her affair, which had my whole family lying to me about what was going on because they didn’t think I could handle it, only to come home and all of my moms stuff was gone, she didn’t even leave her phone number.. it was my first year of high school I blamed myself for so long even though it wasn’t me, my parents never even slept in the same room my whole life, but it felt like no one could handle me...

On my first Mother’s Day without my mom I was at a softball tournament and I literally hit an in the park home run which was big for me And as I was sliding into home I got hurt and later found out I would need surgery to continue playing softball, which was the only thing I had to keep me going at the time, it felt, but my family couldn’t afford it and I had no will to push it ... soon after this I got sick from depression like physically ill all the time...

I finally saw someone for the first time, I went in there and she already knew all my trauma and I felt embarrassed and I lied a lot about what happened because I didn’t want to feel like it was my fault anymore or judged for making out with a mentally handicapped kid my whole life.. so I stopped going. You’re one of the only people I have ever told this story too... it’s embarrassing but I know it’s not my fault and I think the only way to understand why I’m so manic and crazy is to understand these parts of my life, it’s the only way to even start fresh with myself is finally telling someone basically everything and not just playing the screenshots in my head and telling someone will help the ptsd I have. That’s why I was suppose to keep a journal.

I know I have told you about the time I got caught selling weed and got grounded for 2 weeks stuck with mowing the back yard when I was a senior, that day after my grandma sat and talked to me and I broke down and for the first time told someone everything I had been dealing with, by myself... it really broke my grandma I could see it when I talked about my childhood, I could feel her disappointment when she realized what she let her daughter do to me... it has never felt so real... my grandma was so proud of me and our bond was crazy after that though. I spent my whole childhood attaches to her hip when I could.

In kindergarten I had a severe issue with anxiety and would cry a lot and one day my teacher physically pushed me up against the wall, I can feel her twisting my hands in hers and pushing me up against the bricks and holding my head there... I immediately switched schools and my new school let my family come in a lot and just help in the classroom and my grandma was the only one who ever came. She let me sleep with her every night, she would help me through my anxiety I didn’t even understand. She was the most kind and loving human to ever walk this earth and anyone that met her would say the same thing.

She was my godsend that’s why her death pains me, it happened sooo fast we found out she had cancer and 12 days later she was gone, it’s was less then 8 before she lost all ability to talk, I have ptsd from all of this but, I was holding her hand the moment she died... and I felt her hand swell and I just won’t ever forget that moment it was panic I had to adjust and then go get my aunt from the waiting room and I just remember running through the hall.. “it’s grandma come” is all I could get out before I ran back to be with her... she wasn’t there anymore though she was physically but i had never seen a dead body before that and it is a different feeling.. and I had to go be with my sister so I left... this moment triggers me missing her, and then I think about what would of happened if she was never there through my childhood, and the moments of my childhood I would love to forget... and this is the roots...

That makes me want to die a lot of the days, nothing good happens to me and nothing good stays.. I am crazy.. I have the right to be, I don’t want to be though.. I would do anything to not feel myself running through the hall after staring blankly at my grandmas lifeless body... I feel that in those high stress moments... it has nothing to do with you but I can’t unloop it... I’m working on it and I’m working on telling my therapist everything to work on it but it’s not just something that all comes out in one sitting and takes a lot of talking which I have been doing... this is me talking... this is how I will get better. I just have to keep talking.

I am aware I have to love myself and be there for me, and oh my fucking god I have been my only support system that’s actually ever helped through all of that, besides my grandma, I can get through anything on my own, I just found someone that I wanna wake up next to for the rest of my life because you make me not manic and calm and so I need you but not to get me through this, I’m still here I can do this by myself.. But I can do this... I’m not giving up now... the good is finally here... you’re the good... you’re my everything.

Sorry this is a mess of thoughts but it’s everything big everything you need to know... please keep my secrets private, please just know I love you and I’m sorry for how I am but it’s just gonna take time and I want you to be there... if I can lose my dignity (and get it back, softball, my mom, my grandma... and countless pther things I can lose you but why the hell would I want to now that I have you. Just trust I’m doing all I can. Trust in us. Trust in me. I love you