#(( a good 3-hour cry session is just what the doctor ordered ))

[gctchell]

"So.. how are we doing?"

[missorigamimk]

'' I don't mind suffering,as long you're next to me''

Warnings ; Fictional, NIjiro Imagine , Blood, Ilnness, Cancer,Fluff,Sexual Content,Consentual, Drama, Fictional Phone Numbers&Email Contacts!!!

1. the START

Good Morning.

You have called Dr. Love Dr. Shuntaro For appointments & therapy sessions; Mon-Friday- 08:00 - 14:00 & 17:00-21:00

Emergency Phone : +8148-837-2222

Contact : dr.ShuntaroCh@hotmail.com

Central Tokyo Clinic Office ; info@ctjpnshuntaro

That's the voice mail of his Professional Number...One of the most Known Doctors in Japan.

One of the Best Therapy Doctor in Tumours , Cancer etc

Monday , June 12th 2020

08:16 pm

It was such a chilling morning , the dawn was so beautifull but also cold! The mist was around the atmospere and my bedroom was so wet and not cozy at all. But as i was warm inside my warm bed and pillow i was refusing to get up. But I had to. I had to get up in order to have my medical examinations result.

Three days ago i had a test done because i had something like a little ball inside my right chest and that was excactly was scared of. Cancer. It was small though, but at the same time it freaked out.

I got up in a hurry, i made a hot cup of coffee , having some quick snack , made my hair little messy but cute , i put some light make up and wore almost every wool coat on me. I grabbed my car keys and off the door.

I made it to the Clinic that i was 72 hours before.

It was a little crowded , some patients waiting for their check up, others were crying , i suppose that broke my heart. Bad results sad news .Oh God. I am just 40 years old. !!! I don't wanna die from that damn illness ! Not Yet ! I walked at the Front Desk , like i was already...dead

"Goodmorning"

"Good morning . How can I help you" ?

" I...I am here -- I just had some check ups 3 days ago and i came to give me the results...its for..-

" Yeah, I'llsee your Medical Records here. Are they for X-Rays ?

"yeah..."

"Gimme your name please"

" It's Dion Bone"

She did just 4-5 seconds to find my File from this Data base but seemed to me like a century.

"Ok. Here you are. Let me print this 4 you. I'll need your Insurance Number . OK"

"Sure."

"Have you got any other treatments before, or have you been checked up in other Clinics'?

"ahhh Nope i haven't..."

"Ok. Don't worry. Our team has the best Doctors here. "

"If you say so..."

"Alright. She sighs. Here it is. "

She gave me a large yellow folder with all papers in it, and some white Page with a list of Doctors i could visit and have my therapy.

"So, you're done from here. You can go to the Doctors office to see your exams?"

"Yeah"

"Dr. Shuntaro is On Duty today. His office is at your right hand at the end of the Hall. : OK?

" Great...thank you"

" Have a nice day, and please....stay calm. She winked.

Panic and stress is never good for whatever..."

"I'll try" I replied and i grab my staff heading through the big problem that was in front of me and my health.

My steps was like a zombies....slow,stiff and almost ready to collapse. I had already pulpitations .

His door was in front of me and i couldn't - just didn't want to knock it. I stood there for about 2 min without doing a move forward or backwards.... I was ready to go , suddenly his voice heard behind the close door.

" OK. Mrs Tale. Have a good morning. I'll see you next week"

I run to hide behind a thick wall , sneaking looks in his door.

I was acting like idiot , as if he was the Satan himself.

What i was affraid of? Any given result, bad or not , i had to know.

He opened the white heavy door and his voice was closer.

"Bye! Don't forget your medicine dear!"

He came out walking to the front desk .

"Hey What's Up Macy?"

"Hey Dr. How are you doing?"

"Not bad. I just wanna some coffee in my veins! I didn't had anything yet. I woke up very fast today ... i feel like sleepy!"

"A-ha Chishiya , you must have some days off you know!"

Yes! Take some days off will ya ! Gimme a break !"

I thought while i was already walking through the back exit.

I heard his footsteps coming my way.

"Can I help you."?

"SHIT!" He saw me...

I looked back as i turned and i saw him.

Dr. Shuntaro himself.

I felt more stressed than i was before. Almost frozen

I-I...."Actually...Ye-Yes"

"I'm Dion Bone. I just had some exams and i want you to see these"

"Sure. Please, come inside" he said pointing his office entrance

He made a small step to enter but he stopped and turned to my face

"Oh. Sorry for being so rude. Would you like some coffee"?

" Aahhh... ok"

"Macyyy!! Can you please get some coffee for Dion"?

"Sure!" She yelled.

"He smiled . Alrighty. Please....( hand gesture welcoming to his office)

He placed his coffee on his desk , he sat down , comfortably at his white leather chair.

"So, What exams are they?

I handed him the large envelope and he opened it carefully with his delicate hands.

"Hhmmm . X-Rays"

"Breast Cancer X-Rays"...

He was looking at them without talking much , he was fully concetrate on this.

In all this time , i was just sitting there, frozen,scared and panicking.

"Miss. Bone. Your exams are not so bad. There is indeed a tumour in your right breast but as i can see it's curable. Oh yeah, let me check an....- yes it is. If you start your therapy right now it's absolutely curable. So, you don't have to afraid."

" Are you sure Dr.? I am - I am ... a tear started to make an appearance....40 years old and I don-

"You are not going to. Do you hear me? You're going to be Fine!"

"Come here. He pushed the paper closer so i can also see

"Do you see this?" He pointed with his index finger some area from the X , i swear i could't understand a single thing but he was a doctor so i guess i should show some trust!

" Your tumour is here. It's 0.2 inch , which means it;s not have growing yet' We can easily make it ...gone !:

"What about metastasis Doc?"

"Metastastis isn't something we must concern now"OK?

I sighed. "Ok" "When we should start my therapy"?

"Well, what about tomorrow'? "Unless you wanna have some second opinion..i mean...if you've already"

"No No! Do you mean if i have another Doctor? NO!'

"Yes. If that's so, i don;'t have any problem"

" No...You are my....First. I mean , in Medical's Issues!"

" I got you. I'm going to give ya some prescription ok. I want you to stay away from stress, anxious and bad mindset."

" Would you do this?"

" I will do my best"

"That's it"

He smiled to me so sweet so calming that is like it was the first relaxing thing i needed that moment....

"Thank you so much 4 your help Dr."

I stood up my chair , grabbing my purse and ready to go.

" Oh. Just a moment. Here. "

He passed me his tiny Medical ID card with the Phone Number and Email.

" Here's the way to find me. In Case you need some advice"

" Thank you so much again . Bye. See you soon!"

"Let me walk you out"

He opened the door for me , and i felt his hand on my back.

"Bye. See ya!" He winked his right eye...and smiled again.

PART 2 COMING SOON !!

[wandaromanova]

Lost

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Warnings: mentions of cancer, death, cussing

A/N: hello! i’d like to put a disclaimer that i am not in any way knowledgeable of the medical field and all of the terminology and information used in this fic was found through research! happy reading <3

anon requested: hiiiii !! can i request like an angst into fluff natxfem!reader one shot where the reader has a really bad day and takes it out on nat and hurts her feelings and so they go to bed angry. but the reader realizes their mistake and the next morning just wakes her up by showering her with love and then takes the whole day to do cute little date things with her? like making her favorite meal or like dancing in the kitchen to their favorite song late at night or just super fluffy things? if not, that’s okay!! have a good day <3

Summary: The heavy weight of her profession gets to Y/N and she takes her anger out on her loving girlfriend; Natasha Romanoff.

Word Count: 3K | navigation

please do not repost or try and take ownership of my work. reblogs, likes, and comments are always welcome. <3

Becoming a doctor was no easy feat.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Once high school is completed, one must receive your bachelor’s degree before taking the MCAT exam and applying to medical school. After four years of medical school, you must endure a year as an intern before being promoted to a resident. 

Depending on what specialty one has selected, residency can span from three to seven years. Fellowships follow after but are typically an optional course that provides extra training. 

Yes, there are a lot of necessary steps to take in order to set foot into the medical world, but somehow, the years of foreplay could never compare to being a full-fledged physician; and you knew this all too well.

You are a pediatric oncologist and your job was to diagnose and provide treatment to children and teenagers who had cancer. You specialized in hematology; the treatment of blood disorders.

You were the head of pediatric oncology in a Manhattan hospital. You dealt with a lot of patients, but a two-year-old little girl named Sarah was secretly your favorite. 

Despite being diagnosed with acute myeloid leukemia, Sarah’s positivity and playful personality never faltered.

Even if she didn’t understand the circumstances because of her young age, you knew she was suffering. Regardless of it all, every session you had with her was endearing.

You met with the child once a week to administer chemotherapy. Her enthusiasm never failed to have you awestruck. Most of your patients were exhausted from the treatments, but not Sarah. 

She was a hyper child who would attempt to sing Frozen songs, performing as you tried to fight a smile from taking over your features. She had a stuffed Olaf doll that she brought with her to every visit and it was heartwarming to see her hug the doll close to her chest. 

Sarah would even bring you drawings every week that you would keep in your locker. You’d admire each and every one of the drawings, even if you couldn’t really tell what they were.

You’d grown fond of the little girl in the past two months you had been treating her. You were also relatively close to her parents, who were probably the kindest people you’ve ever encountered. It made sense that Sarah was the ball of sunshine she was, she obviously got it from her parents.

Most times, parents were on edge and extremely short-tempered. If parents saw you often, that meant that their child was diagnosed with some form of cancer. Understandably, they would be rather hostile whilst interacting with you, but you never took their behavior personally. 

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

If you were in their shoes, you were positive that you wouldn’t be very friendly either. 

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

You had grown fond of the beaming child. You were aware that growing emotionally attached to patients was unprofessional, but how could you not? 

You adored children and for that very reason, you had chosen a specialty that allowed you to help kids as much as medicine would allow. You always had a soft spot for kids and you found joy in helping them as best as you possibly could.

Sarah had a very good chance at pulling through. With consistent treatment and her young age, her survival rate was around 68%. Those were considerably good odds in these circumstances. Not to mention, the chemotherapy seemed to be paying off. At the rate she was improving, she was predicted to be out of the woods soon enough.

However, the child had developed a bacterial infection. Since she had been receiving chemotherapy, the treatment had damaged her white blood cells which are responsible for fighting off infections. 

All you could do was provide antibiotics to try and fight off the infection. You had monitored her for some time in hopes of seeing any sign of improvement, but unfortunately, it wasn’t enough. Her immune system was extremely vulnerable and there wasn’t any way to reverse the damage. 

Your heart was torn to pieces when you delivered the news to her parents. They broke down in the hallway outside of Sarah’s room as you informed them of Sarah’s rapidly shortened life expectancy. It was only a matter of time before the young child would pass and honestly, this was what you hated most about your job.

You hated that you couldn’t help every single patient. You hated how cruel the world could be to take away an innocent child from their loving parents. 

You allowed her parents to spend time by her bedside. They laid on either side of her bed, clinging onto her for dear life. What broke you the most was the paleness of Sarah’s once glowing skin. Her smile was still present but didn’t quite reach her eyes like it used to. 

Her parents quietly sang ‘Love Is An Open Door’ to Sarah. You felt your heart clench in a bittersweet way as you silently watched. Normally, Sarah wouldn’t hesitate to join in, but her lack of breath prevented her from doing so. All she could do was close her eyes and lightly nod her head along to their voices. 

Sarah passed hours later and it was an extremely somber experience. Hearing the cries of parents who lost their children wasn’t easy and it never would be. Your job had its pros and cons, and this was the biggest negative.

You fought back your own tears as you exited the room, giving the two mourning parents some privacy after you recorded Sarah’s time of death. You found the nearest restroom and allowed the tears to fall down your face. 

A pure soul had been ripped away from the world, never having the chance to experience the great things life had to offer.

•❅──────────────── ‎⧗ ────────────────❅•

4 Hours Later

You trudged into your loft, immediately taking off your coat and hanging it up before tossing your keys on the small table by the front door. 

Your girlfriend, Natasha, had heard your arrival and quickly exited the bedroom to greet you, a wide smile on her face. However, her smile fell when she noticed your defeated state. 

Your shoulders were slumped as you slouched slightly and your eyes were dripping with sadness. 

“Honey? What’s wrong?” Natasha approached you while you stood frozen in front of the door. Her hands came up to cup your cheeks as she stared at you in concern, her eyes scanning over your features. 

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“I lost Sarah.” 

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Natasha’s eyes widened and her heart sunk at your words. She was aware of how much you adored the two-year-old. Once a week, you would rave about the child and how adorable she was at the dinner table. You would go on and on about how Sarah would sing to you, draw pictures for you, and bring along stickers to place onto your coat.

The redhead loved how happy you looked whenever you spoke about any of your patients, but most especially Sarah. It brought Natasha some joy of her own to see you speak animatedly about Sarah; your happiness was her happiness. 

So, the news hurt her almost as much as it hurt her. She knew how much you loved Sarah, despite never saying it straight out.

“Oh my god. I’m so sorry. I know how much you cared about her. Are you okay?” Natasha’s voice was oozing with sympathy. You couldn’t help but feel irritated by her question. 

You tore her hands off of your cheeks and walked past her and into the kitchen, pouring yourself a glass of water as the redhead watched you intently. 

“Am I okay? I’m fine! It’s not like I lost an extremely young patient today or anything. What kind of stupid fucking question is that, Natasha?” You took a sip of cold water to try and calm yourself damn, but your attempt was futile. 

The redhead made her way into the kitchen, standing on the opposite side of the island as you took another sip of water, eyes burning a hole into her head over the rim of the glass. 

“I know, that was a dumb question. I just want to help you, Y/N/N.” Natasha remained calm and patient as she spoke to you. She was no stranger to the loss of a person she desperately tried to save and knew all too well the sadness and anger that accompanied the tragedy. She was an Avenger, after all. 

“I don’t want your help and I don’t need you!” You slammed your cup onto the counter as you raised your voice. Honestly, it was surprising that you hadn’t shattered the glass with the amount of force you exerted. 

Natasha felt an ache in her chest as you yelled at her. She knew that you weren’t in the right state of mind and didn’t take it personally, but that didn’t make your words hurt any less. 

“You save entire cities and I can’t even save a single fucking person!” You were turning red at this point, tears of frustration streaming down your face. The redhead hated seeing you cry, but she knew better than to approach you at this moment. 

“Babe, you save so many pe-” Natasha’s tried to speak, but you quickly interjected. 

“If you’re going to try and spew some philosophical bullshit to me right now, I don’t want to hear it. I don’t want to hear another god damn word from your mouth.”

The redhead looked down defeatedly. She had never seen you so upset, let alone direct your frustrations towards her. Her eyes fell down to the marble counter between you both before looking up at you. You were breathing heavily, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you tried to catch your breath. 

Without another word, Natasha retreated back to the bedroom, shutting the door softly behind her. You watched her until she was out of your view and let out a sigh. Your hands gripped the edges of the kitchen island, supporting your weight as you shut your eyes. 

You brought a hand up to your face and pinched the bridge of your nose. After a few minutes, you made your way into the living room, chucking off your shoes before collapsing onto the couch. You didn’t feel like interacting with Natasha anymore tonight, knowing that you most likely wouldn’t be able to control your temper. 

You were just so fed up with the painful losses you had to endure from your profession. 

You knew that being a doctor was more dark clouds and thunder, than sunshine and rainbows, but you just wished that for once, the weather forecast would work in your favor. 

The emotional day had finally caught up to you. Your body relaxed as you sunk further into the couch, eyes fluttering shut as you succumbed to a much-needed slumber. 

Unbeknownst to you, Natasha was still awake. She laid flat on her back and stared up at the ceiling in thought. She was mad at you, as much as she didn’t want to be. Natasha had gone through the same thing and never lost her cool with you as you had with her. 

The redhead calmed down slowly, turning on her side and facing the empty space beside her which you normally occupied. She reached one arm out, her skin colliding with cool sheets, already missing the warmth of your body. 

Natasha hated sleeping without you by her side, She didn’t feel complete when you weren’t steadily sleeping next to her, your arms wrapped around her body. However, she hoped that things would improve in the morning.

And with that thought in mind, she drifted off into a dreamless sleep, clutching the sheets firmly in her hand. 

•❅──────────────── ‎⧗ ────────────────❅•

 The Next Morning

You awoke to a blinding light, the morning sun shining through the windows and landing directly onto your face. You let out a groan and slowly sat up, stretching out your limbs with a groan. The couch wasn’t the most comfortable place to sleep, you were aching everywhere. 

You sat there for a moment as the events of the day before caught up to you. Not only had you lost Sarah, but you upset Natasha. You immediately felt guilty as you recalled the harsh words you spat at her in a fit of rage. You felt like a complete asshole, and rightfully so. 

You quickly stood up and entered the kitchen, retrieving some bacon from the freezer and eggs from the refrigerator. You grabbed two separate pans and washed your hands, making sure to get the coffee pot running before you began cooking.

Your girlfriend absolutely loved bacon, eggs, and coffee. She described the combinations as a ‘party in her mouth.’ So, this was going to be an ‘i’m sorry for being a bitch last night’ apology breakfast. 

You got started on the meal and by the time you finished up and had the stove off, Natasha stalked out of the bedroom slowly. She eyed you carefully as she approached, you sent a soft smile her way.

“You made breakfast,” Natasha spoke and you shyly nodded your head. You moved away from the stove and rounded the counter. The redhead stood in her spot as you wrapped your arms around her waist, her arms reflexively going around your neck.

“I was an asshole last night.” You stated and your girlfriend nodded her head in agreement. “Yeah, you were a total pain in the ass, the absolute worst.” You rolled your eyes at Natasha’s teasing tone.

“I’m sorry for how I behaved. I was just so upset about… Sarah. I didn’t mean to take it out on you and I can’t even begin to tell you how bad I feel for yelling at you when all you wanted to do was help me.”

Your voice was full of emotion, your eyes boring into her emerald irises as you poured your heart into every syllable you uttered. Natasha smile gently at you, her fingers lightly tugging on the baby hairs on the nape of your neck. 

“It’s okay. I know you weren’t mad at me.” You let out a sigh of relief as the redhead stared at you softly. She let out a small chuckle at your dramatics before continuing.

‘I understand how you feel. The team and I, we try our very best to save as many civilians as we can, but sometimes it’s completely out of our control. It’s the exact same situation.” 

One of Natasha’s hands found its way to your cheek, gently cupping the skin as you leaned into her touch. You were listening intently to her every word, mesmerized by the calming rasp of her voice.

“Don’t dwell on what you couldn’t do, but give yourself some credit for everything you did do. I may not know what happened, but what I do know is that you tried everything you could, no?”

Natasha questioned you and you nodded your head. “I gave her antibiotics to fight the infection, but it was too severe.” The redhead rubbed her thumb against your cheek. 

“All that matters is that you did your best and that’s all anyone could ever ask for.” Natasha ended her little speech as she placed a soft kiss on the tip of your nose. You couldn’t help but smile, an overwhelming feeling of happiness taking over. 

“Thank you. I love you and your… what was it?” You furrowed your eyebrows in concentration before your face lit up. Natasha raised an eyebrow at you. “Philosophical bullshit. That was the words.” The Russian let out a laugh, shaking her head from side to side at your antics. 

“Seriously though, I’m so grateful for you. You’re so amazing to me even when I don’t deserve it. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” Natasha’s laughter died down as your tone turned serious. Your eyes were so full of love and adoration as you stared into her eyes deeply. 

“Well, let’s hope you never have to find out.” Natasha smiled once more and you couldn’t resist pressing your lips against her plump ones. Your mouths moved in tandem at a slow pace, enjoying the rawness and love that accompanied each movement. 

You broke the kiss when air became an issue. Nat’s eyes fluttered open as you wiggled your eyebrows at her playfully. 

“So, are you ready for some breakfast? Maybe after we eat, we can go on top of a rooftop and I’ll serenade you with a rendition of ‘Sorry’ by Justin Bieber.”

Natasha’s head flew back as she laughed uncontrollably at your words. “What? Do you not like the Biebs? If you want, I could play ‘Baby Come Back’ by Player from a boombox and hold it over my head, instead.” The redhead continued to laugh profusely and you soon joined in. Your arms tightened around her waist as your giggles subsided. 

“I think cuddling on the couch and watching the Kardashians eating ridiculously large bowls of salad will do.” You nodded your head in agreement but didn’t make a move to release Natasha from your grip. She didn’t let go either. 

The two of you just stood there, basking in each other’s embrace, a comfortable silence falling over you both. 

Natasha never failed to say the right things to pull you out of the dark abyss that was your mind. She was completely right, as always. There would always be bad days, patients who were progressing one day and deteriorating the next. 

However, there were also good days, and you shouldn’t allow the bad to overshadow all the good you’ve done. Like with Natasha, she wasn’t always the superhero she is today. She took her dark past and turned it into a bright future. 

Nat didn’t let her bad days define her and neither should you.

Of course, you would always remember every single patient you had lost, but now, you would take the pain and turn it into motivation; motivation to improve yourself, not only in your professional life but in your personal life as well. 

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

You would do right by the ones you’ve lost and the one who stuck by your side; Natasha Romanoff. 

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

───────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────────

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[tomtenadia]

Remember Us - part 1

Here I am with a new Rowaelin. This will be a much shorter than ALB both in chapter length and story length. The idea came to me while on the bus home after work. It’s angsty,

A special thank you to @whimsicallyreading for being my wonderful beta <3

------

Rowan is involved in a motorbike accident while on his way to work. A crash that will have some consequences on his marriage with Aelin when he realises that he has lost his memory. Day by day they will have to find their way back to each other and and survive the challenges that life throws at them. 

-----

When the silver haired man opened his eyes it took him a moment for his vision to focus and take in his surroundings. The walls around him were a pale beige colour and the smell of disinfectant was the first thing that hit his senses. In the background there was a steady beeping sound and when he moved his head towards it he saw a machine tracking his heart rate. Hospital. He was in a hospital. A couple of bags with liquids were hanging from hooks at his side and the long plastic tubes ran to his hand. Another gentle motion of his head and he saw his right arm in a splint and his right leg propped up and enveloped in a protective support.

The man pushed his head back in the pillow and groaned. He was in an hospital. And slowly he realised that’s all he knew. His mind felt empty as he tried to think about how he got there. But nothing. There was nothing. He closed his eyes and blackness hit him. He clearly broke his arm and his leg, but how it happened? He had no idea. Slowly he realised that all his memories had started from the instant he woke up. That was all he had and a wave of panic hit him.

In that instant a nurse walked into the room to check on him “Oh, Mr Whitethorn, you finally decided to join us. How do you feel?”

“Whitethorn?” His voice gruff.

“Yes, that’s your surname.”

The man looked at her with a confused stare.

“Do you know where you are? What day it is? Your name?”

The man shook his head “but from the fancy machines and your attire I guess I am in hospital.” He managed to utter, his throat feeling scratchy from disuse. How long had he been asleep?

“Let me go and call the doctor.” And she hurried out of the room.

Whitethorn, his surname was Whitethorn. That was a start.

A moment later a woman entered the room “good morning you. Glad that you could finally join us.” She smiled at him and checked a few things. The doctor flashed a penlight in his eyes then held a finger in front of him “follow this.” She moved the finger from left to right and back and he followed it with his eyes.

“So, the nurse said you don’t remember much.” She straightened her back and saw her write some notes on his chart. 

“I can’t…” he whispered “why am I in hospital?”

“Your name is Rowan Whitethorn. A month ago you had a motorbike accident on your way to work. You have been in a coma ever since. You had a helmet on but still sustained some serious head injuries and you are now experiencing amnesia. It will be temporary and the memories will eventually come back.”

Rowan closed his eyes, he had a name now, another small piece to add to the infinite puzzle in front of him.

“I will schedule another MRI to check your progress since surgery. Now rest, I will get in touch with your wife and let her know that you are awake.” And the doctor left.

Wife. He had a wife. He was married and his name was Rowan and he had an accident.

*

Aelin left the OR exhausted. The last surgery had lasted for hours but she had saved a kid’s life. She threw her OR scrubs in the trash and walked back to her office, looking forward to sit down on her chair for half an hour at least. Her back was killing her and she definitely dreamed about a back rub in that moment. But her plans were thwarted when she got a page from doctor Westfall. Rowan was awake. He was finally awake. She told the nurses she was going to the neurology ward and that she had her pager on if they needed her and she ran to the elevator.

Once on the correct floor, she stopped. She had been waiting for that moment for a whole month and now she was scared. She was a neurosurgeon as well and, although she was a paediatric one, she knew what his injuries might cause. She spotted Yrene in the corridor and ran to her in a frenzy “Yrene, I got your page.”

“He is awake,” said the brunette “his functions are okay but he is has amnesia. We talked about the possibility.” She explained and Aelin nodded “I have ordered another MRI and I will have a better idea after.”

“Can I go in?”

“Yes, but remember that he might not know who you are.” And she patted Aelin’s shoulder in support.

Aelin nodded and pushed back the tears that had been forming at the corner of her eyes.

Rowan was awake. She had awaited that news for the last month but the happiness in her soul was shackled by fear. Deep unyielding fear. She might have him back but at what price? She knew that the type of injuries he had suffered could affect the memory. As a doctor she was prepared to face it, but as his wife, she could feel her heart aching at the possibility of being a stranger to the man who held her heart. Of him not recognising their children. With a deep breath she steadied her nerves and eventually she opened the door to his room. She had been waiting for that moment for so long, for the day she would go inside and find him awake, his pine green eyes on her once again.

A step inside and her hand went instinctively on her belly over her scrubs where her bump had barely started to show.

“Rowan…”

*

“Rowan…”

A female voice distracted him from his thoughts. He turned his head and saw a woman with golden hair and the most amazing blue eyes with a ring just as golden as her hair. She wore scrubs, probably another doctor checking up on him. But the way she had said his name was different from how doctor Westfall had said it.

She was stunning. That much he could admit.

“Ro…” she said it with a soft tone and moved a step toward him and he had a feeling she was not just a regular doctor checking on him. Why was she crying? Then his eyes moved to her left hand on her stomach and spotted a ring. He looked at his left hand and saw a matching one on his fourth finger.

His breath hitched at the realisation. The doctor had mentioned a wife. Was it her? Panic rose in him. He was not ready.

“Who are you?”

“Aelin. My name is Aelin Whitethorn-Galathynius.”

Rowan froze. That was his surname and she had used it with what was possibly hers. The woman never moved from her spot. She just stood there staring at him, her blue eyes on him and he had no idea how to react. This woman was apparently his wife. What could he say to her?

“I am Rowan.” He said feeling stupid. She knew already but in that moment was all he could say.

“I know.” She whispered, finally moving a step in his direction “I have known your name for a very long time.”

“I don’t know you.” He admitted feeling his chest tighten.

“I know.” She sat on the chair beside his bed “I know. Amnesia will be temporary. It will slowly start to come back to you. You just need to be patient. Both of us.”

He looked at her and something tugged in him. It was as if although his mind could not recognise the woman in front of him, his body could. It was a strange sensation. The sense of familiarity. His guts were telling him to trust that woman.

“We’ll face it together. To whatever end.”

He had no idea what she was talking about but he wanted to believe her.

“Do you want me to tell you something about us?”

Rowan nodded, eager to piece together some pieces of the mystery his life had become. How had he ended up with her?

Aelin’s hand caressed her stomach.

“We met at University of Terrasen. You were studying law and I was in med school. We had friends in common and I met you at a party and  I thought you were the most obnoxious and annoying man alive.” He heard her chuckle “until a year later when you brought me coffee in the library while I was cramming hard during an exhausting exam session. Then you brought me cake and slowly I realised you were not that annoying.” She continued her tale while her hand gently brushed the tip of his fingers.

“You kept me company and studied with me while I was rambling on medical terms, procedures and other crazy stuff.” He heard her sob “and then we both realised our feeling had changed. We dated. A year later we moved in together. Once we graduated you proposed to me. We got married.” Aelin stood and paced and a ragged sigh left her mouth “after a lot of heartbreak and miscarriages we had our little boy Thomas. A year and a half later Freyja came along as well.” 

Rowan gasped. They had kids. He was married to this woman and they had a family and he could not remember any of that.

“Stop.” He said in a harsher tone than intended “This is too much.”

His wife sat back down and her puffy eyes broke his heart. How was it possible that he felt so heartbroken for a woman he had just met?

Except he didn’t. They had been together for a long time and that feeling of familiarity came back to hit him like a sledgehammer.

“I need to be alone.” He said, turning his head and heard her sob loudly and felt the urge to reach out to her. But he fought it.

He needed space.

“I have to go back anyway.” She stood and pressed a kiss on his head “I will see you later.” And left the room.

Rowan threw his head in the pillow and felt his eyes swell with tears. Why was he crying? Why sending that woman away hurt that much? No, not just that woman. His wife. He had a family, a wife and two kids and all of it felt overwhelming.

He wanted to know more, but at the same time he was scared. What if turned out he hated the life he had? Until his memories started to return he had to trust her. Believe that he had chosen that life.

He sighed and his thought kept going back to Aelin.

Eventually he fell asleep with the smell of lemon and verbena still tingling his nostrils.

Aelin quickly went back to her office, locked the door and collapsed on her chair. And cried. She knew it was a possibility. She had discussed it with Yrene after his surgery. She had been preparing herself for the last month but it turned out she had not been as ready as she made herself believe. In that room she had been a stranger to Rowan. Their kids were strangers to their father and she could not tell him again that another baby was on its way. It would have been too much. 

She cried, remembering how happy Rowan had been when, two months before, she told him she was pregnant again. 

They wanted a big family. They both had good jobs and could afford it. After years of loss they finally had their dream. And then that blasted accident happened. The car driver had hit Rowan and her life was suddenly plunged into hell.

A hell in which for a month she had to tell their kids why dad was not home yet. Console them when they could not play with their dad or have him read stories before bed. Her mum had been helping her looking after the kids while she was at work. But they missed their dad. Freyja especially who was his exact copy and not just physically.

Her sobs grew in intensity. 

She missed her husband too. Her heart ached for him. For the comfort she would find in his arms after a bad day at work. 

Her pager went off and Aelin quickly brushed her eyes and cleared away the tears and left her office in a rush.

She could hide her pain into work. Pretend, for a few hours, that she was not living in a nightmare. That her life with Rowan had not been put on hold. 

For a few hours, inside that OR she could just be Aelin.

[charlotte-headcanons]

Hey! How have ypu been? 2,3,6,7,9,15 Who else but Monty (Kata, Brulee, Peros too :D) yeah it's a big order!

Phew, that one sure took a while! But everything for you, friend 💕💕 We're alright, hope you've been well too! ✨

Some practicalities first: We decided to organize this answer by characters, for maximum space to go into detail on each headcanon! Some headcanons pertain to our modern AU rather than to the One Piece canon as we found these headcanons worked better for a particular prompt: we'll indicate those at the start of each bullet point!

Send us a number and a character and we'll post headcanons!

2. Job headcanon

Modern AU: Mont D'Or is a librarian by passion and a prosecutor by profession. He opened up and manages his own library in the early mornings and late evenings, but in-between that, he works on court cases. He might be overworked, and is definitely a workaholic but he hardly ever slacks off on either of his careers; and he's notorious for being professional, convincing, and very attached to every case. Highly principled unless Mama orders him to do something for her, he refuses to prosecute those he doesn't believe should be prosecuted, and for those he wants to face justice - he will get so heated that he might get reprimanded by judges for yelling or by cops and detectives for joining their investigations uninvited. His sister, Galette, is his secretary, and she follows him around everywhere, helping out however much she can!

3. Drinking headcanon

Mont D'Or... might have a bit of an alcohol problem. It's not that he gets drunk often... but he does drink regularly. Essentially, every time his siblings piss him off, he takes a sip, so you can imagine how many sips accumulate throughout the day. His prefer drink is red dry wine and he mostly drinks alone, without witnesses, not to give a bad example! To get really drunk, he would have to drink a lot; but if he does get drunk, he mostly gets more explosive than usual or somewhat lagged out, processing all information input slower than normally.

6. Musical headcanon

In Mont D'Or's eyes, the main function music has is to help him either focus or unwind. For both of these roles, he enjoys classical music most - think especially something akin to Wagner. He despises loud music and prefers instrumental pieces, although he is also an opera enthusiast. His guilty pleasure, discovered quite recently, could also be lo-fi kind of music! It calms him down a little, even though he doesn't like to be caught listening to it, as his expressed music-related opinions are overall quite snobbish.

7. Food/Cooking headcanon

Mont D'Or would gladly cook if he had the time for it; but being as busy as he is, he is forced to depend on others and on ordering food throughout each day. His tastes encompass rather fancy cuisine: he adores charcuterie boards and seafood, refuses to eat fast food, adds cheese to pretty much everything that is remotely acceptable like an apple pie and calls it an acquired taste. Besides that, he always likes to have a cookie with his black coffee; considering how much coffee he drinks every day, that is a lot of cookies consumed!

9. Childhood headcanon

As a child, Mont D'Or was known as just a nerd. He was way more shy and less aggressive than he is now; it was only over time, having been ridiculed by some siblings for his unconventional (in this family) interests, that he toughened up and learned to stand up for himself. Ever since he learned to read, Mont D'Or was a frequent visitor to all libraries of Totto Land. At the time, there weren't that many, nor did they have impressive book collections, so soon enough, Mont D'Or started reading books way above his age target group, and by the time he came of age, he was disappointed to find out that he has already read every book currently available within Big Mom's territory. At first, little Mont D'Or wasn't quite sure what he can offer to his family of murderous pirates: he wasn't strong nor all that ruthless, and his strengths could be found rather in the areas that wouldn't be that useful for sailing or plundering. He also felt lonely before Galette came along, and he could most often be found alone, or around Compote, who had a soft spot for her smart little brother. Eventually, Mont D'Or figured out that strategy and organization were the areas where his family could need him, though; from there, he moved on to transform from a quiet nerd into a pillar of Big Mom Pirates’ planning.

15. School headcanon

Besides setting up many more libraries in Totto Land than it once had, Mont D'Or took it onto himself to kickstart a proper education system in his mother's territory. In the past, none of the Charlotte siblings went through formalized education, rather having to learn from experience or directly from Big Mom, other pirates, and from each other. Now, Mont D'Or makes sure that teachers are recruited to Totto, and at least basic schools (available universally) are established!

Modern AU: It is probably not surprising that at school, Mont D'Or would be a straight-A's student. Stellar at every test, he would however not be all that liked by the teachers due to his behavior problems. His temper and lack of respect for authority if the authority is wrong would both make him a troublesome student to get in conflict with. He'd absolutely correct the teachers on their mistakes, and if they dared refuse to acknowledge their faults... he would yell. 😔

Katakuri, Brulee, and Perospero under the cut!

2. Job headcanon

Modern AU: As we discussed in a previous post, Katakuri would definitely be every parent's dream child, aka a doctor and a lawyer in one! A neurologist and an advocate, Katakuri would be very close to burnout, and wouldn't really actively work in the law field anymore, not wanting to infringe on Mont D'Or's turf. He would definitely work too much, but telling him to rest would hardly be a solution: with his perfectionism, he would not be able to sleep unless his task was carried out well. He wouldn't like his job all that much, really, but he'd still keep it to continue supporting his younger or less talented siblings with his money; and not to disappoint his mother, of course.

3. Drinking headcanon

Katakuri refuses to drink alcohol, finding every possible excuse to not be pressured into it. First of all, he just doesn't want to show his mouth, lay down, or do something even more embarassing for anyone to see if he gets drunk. More importantly, though, he is scared of falling into an addiction as a coping method, so he prefers to just avoid the temptation altogether. If possible, he'd rather not be around drunk people, too!

6. Musical headcanon

Katakuri enjoys all kinds of music and has quite a diverse tastes, with some of his favorites coming from indie rock, metal, cute pixel music, grunge, and more. He is quite embarrassed to share the music he listens to, so when possible, he listens to it on headphones. When he's fully convinced that he's alone, he might sing a little or bob his head to the music he enjoys; if listening to songs around people, though, he'll keep a fully straight, unmoved face.

7. Food/Cooking headcanon

As the supreme donut lover, Katakuri actually has a secret bucket list of all flavors of donuts he wants to try! He cares about the textures of food a lot, and generally prefers soft and chewy things. To set him apart from Luffy, Katakuri also doesn't really like meat, with few exceptions! Sometimes, Katakuri joins Perospero in his morning tea drinking sessions, and it was from his older brother that he learned to like his tea very sweet. As for cooking, he tried it as a child, but found to have little patience for it back then; now, he'd probably do way better if he tried to cook, but just like Mont D'Or, he just doesn't have the time!

9. Childhood headcanon

Katakuri is probably the Charlotte that changed the most since his early childhood. Before the Brulee incident, he was actually a rather lazy, even if talented, kid. To get him to train, an incentive of donuts was always necessary; and having been highly influenced by Daifuku and Oven, he also used to be a bit of a troublemaker. If anyone made fun of him or annoyed him, they would always see Katakuri throwing hands - he was far more eruptive than now and didn't really care what others thought. Brulee getting hurt because of him, though, had a life-changing effect on him; and it effectively molded him into the hardworking, serious, troubled person that he is now.

15. School headcanon

Modern AU: Despite starting off as a troublemaker who slept through the boring classes, these days Katakuri is a model student, and many teachers marvel at his transformation. He is just as good in sciences as in sports, and often represents his school in various competitions, regularly winning too! Although he gets A's in everything, his favorite school subjects remain the humanities. After school, he revises the lesson material for exactly an hour every day, but doesn't need to study much before tests, having a great memory and a kind of sixth sense for filtering out important information. Despite not wanting to be in the spotlight, he's very popular with fellow students and a lot of classmates have secret crushes on him, girls or guys!

2. Job headcanon

Modern AU: As we headcanon, one of Brulee's main hobbies is tending to her herbal garden, and she knows a lot about the healing properties of plants! Naturally, then, she would gladly choose pharmacy as her career path: the calm atmosphere combined with helping others would fit her vibe perfectly. Besides that, she would also work voluntarily babysitting the children of her siblings; the kids would always be kind of scared of her at first, but soon enough they would outright cry whenever she would have to leave even just for a moment.

3. Drinking headcanon

Brulee drinks alcohol rarely and in small amounts; mostly as an addition to a good dinner. She is an extreme lightweight, so anything more than one glass of her favorite white wine results in her becoming way more clumsy than usual and inevitably getting a next-morning headache. To avoid this, she makes sure to never drink more than she knows she can handle!

6. Musical headcanon

Another classical music lover, Brulee would enjoy something akin to Schubert's songs most! Even though she isn't the best at it, with her voice being just a bit too nasal and too scratchy, Brulee likes to sing (especially ballads and lullabies!) and often hums while working. Having a bit more free time than most of her siblings, Brulee also managed to learn some instruments, albeit she only ever stuck to the basics and simple pieces. The piano is the instrument she plays rather well, so she can teach her younger siblings how to play a few easy songs if they so please; very recently, she also picked up the violin, and she enjoys practicing it although, so far, the sounds she can make hardly resemble what she would like to hear.

7. Food/Cooking headcanon

Brulee cooks a lot and enjoys doing that a bunch! She's quite experimental and healthy with her recipes, and prefers salty foods as well as meat or soups. As a result, she is one of the few bastions that keep some of her siblings from succumbing to dessert-only diets. Once in a while, she bakes bread too; since she always cooks way more food than she needs, she often ends up sharing or donating it! You can almost always smell something cooking up in her hut; even if Totto Land has so many high-level chefs, Brulee still likes to make her own, homemade food herself.

9. Childhood headcanon

As a child, Brulee was much more anxious than she is now. She was always a bit awkward and clumsy, and kind of bullied for her witchy appearance by the other children in ports and in Totto Land. Over time, she learned to embrace herself, though; in the stories her older siblings told her, she always identified with the witches, and she later proceeded to amplify this image of herself as much as possible, instead of resenting it!

15. School headcanon

Modern AU: Brulee would be a mediocre student, who'd be kind of picked on, at least until Katakuri got all set on defending her! Her favorite school subject would be history, and she'd also enjoy some parts of biology - though she'd much rather learn about plants and animals than the human insides. Always a sweetheart, Brulee would enjoy secretly making her classmates happy with little anonymous gifts; each birthday or Valentine's Day, anyone could count on at least one card from a secret friend, who everyone would suspect to be her, as she isn't all that great at hiding.

2. Job headcanon

Modern AU: Perospero would be an interior designer, but really, one of a kind. Even if just designing a chair, he'd see his work as art and himself as an artist, and he'd act accordingly. Cracker Any architect unlucky enough to have to work with him would end up in despair as he'd blatanly ignore the technical limits and capacities of a building for the aesthetic. Likewise, his clients would have to be prepared for many unexpected decisions and costs: Perospero would not take orders from them but always stick to what he thinks looks good, no matter how intricate or expensive. Effectively, the only clients brave enough to employ him more than once would be the rich and extravagant ones: those would appreciate his work immensely, while anyone remotely more practical would have to complain.

3. Drinking headcanon

Perospero parties and gets drunk quite often, although he exclusively drinks overly sweet cocktails and never drinks outside of a social context! When he has too much to drink, he gets either hyper, horny, or annoying - or all three at once - depending on his mood. Whichever it is, he also loses all understanding of personal space, gets a lot more touchy, and much more likely to lick everyone and everything. At the end of the night, he has the tendency to pretend that he's much more drunk than he actually is, too, hoping that someone will carry him home like the princess he wants to be; though most of the time, it just ends up with Daifuku pulling him back by the leg.

6. Musical headcanon

Perospero loves to sing, especially publically, and he's surprisingly good at it! damn I really got a stroke first time I heard him sing, like, my man, how can you sing so well with an entire tongue out wtf Perospero explain. His preferred repertoire of music to sing includes all sorts of songs from musicals; as for music to listen to, he ranges between musicals and hyperpop, or any music sweet and bubbly on the outside but disturbing and horror-like as it develops!

7. Food/cooking headcanon

Perospero does not cook on principle, insisting that they have the chefs for it. His diet as a whole is downright atrocious; he adds sugar to quite literally everything, acts dramatically, as if he was poisoned if forced to eat anything not sweet enough, and mostly lives off candy. His 'tea' can hardly be called that anymore, considering that it contains more syrups and sugar than tea itself. Basically, Compote gets chills whenever she sees him eat and continuously marvels at how the fuck he is still alive.

9. Childhood headcanon

Having to take care of his siblings early on, Perospero didn't get much of a careless childhood. Once Linlin was unable to keep all children with her on the Rocks Pirates ship, by the time he was 8, he was put in charge of all the younger siblings she left in a port (while Compote was looking over the ones that stayed with Linlin on the ship). Perospero looks back at his childhood fondly, though; he liked ordering his brothers and sisters around, liked being in charge, and especially loved being admired and looked up to as the eldest sibling role model. Once Katakuri became a new favorite of the family, Perospero was so jealous and grumpy for a while that he even went through a rebellious phase of trying to run away; he came back less than a day later though, having cried his eyes out once missing his family and homesickness kicked in, never to try to leave ever again.

15. School headcanon

Modern AU: At school, Perospero would definitely focus on socializing way more than on learning. Among the teachers, he would be known as a smart but lazy kind of student, doing the bare minimum for most classes, though excelling in art and music. He would have mostly girl friends, essentially running his own mean girls group; together with them, he'd always come up with excuses to not exercise during P.E. so that his looks don't get ruined and so that he can just spend the time gossiping about the guys instead. If someone got on his bad side, Perospero would also not be above bullying them, although he wouldn't do that in a conventional way - rather, he'd just make his victims severely uncomfortable, getting way to close, switching between flirty and dangerous tones, and making them feel trapped before just backing off and laughing. An absolute menace to society, even in a modern AU 😔

If you managed to get through all of this, we salute you, soldier 🎖️Hope you enjoyed, though! ✨ It was sure fun to come up with. Thanks for the ask! 💕

[interstellarflare]

A Difficult Time || Chicago Fire/MED/PD Preferences

Warnings: PTSD warning for Matthew Casey.

Connor Rhodes

Your worst fears had come true. Your parents had come to town. Flying in from California, you almost had a heart attack when your parents walked through the doors of the MED. You had no idea they were coming, which made their undermining and condescending words all the more hurtful. From the very beginning, your mother and father never really supported you with your career choice, preferring that you become a lawyer or something other than a Doctor. Connor just so happened to be in Trauma 4 when he heard you sigh heavily, peeking his head around the corner to see you fold your arms over your chest, ignoring the hurtful words thrown your way by your parents. He might still be a new resident at the MED, but he knew all too well what it was like to have a condescending parent. Without so much as a ‘hello’ or a kind word, he whisked you away, saying way too loudly that you were needed elsewhere to treat a critical patient in the ICU. You couldn’t thank him enough, which in return to make it up to him, you offered to give him free drinks at Molly’s for an entire month. Which so happened to start that night.

Will Halstead

Despite the fact that your date last week had gone well, Will began to notice that you were turning down his plans for a second date. He began to worry. Was it something he did? Was it something he said? You kept telling him that ‘something had come up’, or that you were ‘busy’ that night, and kept making promises for a rein-check. He was growing worried, and began thinking the worst. You were losing interest, you didn’t want to go on a second date. No, that wasn’t it. Something had to be wrong. He had just walked out of Trauma 2 when he saw you talking to Maggie, with red and puffy eyes and dark circles underneath. He dropped everything and rushed towards you, taking you in his arms and holding you close. As you cried into his chest, he manoeuvred you into the break room for some privacy. There, you told him everything. About the missed dates, about the promise of rein-checks that never happened. You were having trouble taking care of your sister, who was being rebellious and difficult just to spite you for taking her with you when you moved to Chicago. She had been arrested again, break and enter. Thanks to Jay, she was given a warning, but Will felt horrible for not being there for you. Had you told him, he would have done everything in his power to help you through this. Now that he did know, he told you that he was taking you out to dinner, and you had no choice in the matter. With a sad laugh, you agreed, and you left as soon as Will’s shift finished.

Ethan Choi

For the past few days, your father had been complaining of chest pain. You offered several times to drive him to the hospital, and each time he had refused. That soon changed when he suffered a sudden heart-attack. Ethan had just arrived at the MED when an older man was brought in, suffering a major cardiac arrest. He jumped into action, assisting Connor as the two of them worked on bringing the patient back. When Ethan heard your desperate voice amongst the chaos, he switched places with Will, and met you outside Trauma 3. When you told him that their current patient was your father, Ethan held you close as Connor and Will brought you father back. He was immediately rushed to the OR, with Ethan sitting by your side the entire duration of the operation. Connor later returned with good news, informing you that your father was currently in ICU, and that he was going to make a full recovery. You thanked him, Will and Ethan for their parts, before Ethan lead you up to the ICU. He stayed with you until your family arrived, before disappearing back downstairs to the ED. Your father had stayed in the ICU for three days before being discharged, but not before your mother found Ethan, and invited him to dinner at your family house that night. Flattered, Ethan accepted her offer.

Kelly Severide

A serious fight had caused both you and Kelly to give each other the silent treatment. Both of you were too stubborn to admit to your own faults, so the argument had basically reached a stalemate. So when Kelly received a call from Maggie, telling him to get his ass to the MED, he immediately knew something was wrong. Maggie lead him into the ED, diverting into Trauma 1 where you sat with Natalie, Ethan and Will, nursing an icepack to your forehead. You had collapsed whilst talking with your patient, exhausted and overworked, stressed out by the fact that the hospital had decided to pull funding for your patient’s organ transplant. You had spent many sleepless nights trying to find another solution, another donor, and everything suddenly caught up with you. Sharon had ordered that you take the rest of the week off, you needed to go home and rest. Kelly immediately offered to take you home, to which you didn’t oppose his idea. With your argument long forgotten, Kelly drove you back to your apartment, even proclaiming that he would take some time off to take care of you. You protested, saying that everything was fine and that you could take care of yourself. But your serious head-knock said otherwise, and given Kelly’s tone, you knew that this matter was not up for debate. With a defeated sigh, you curled into the Firefighter’s side as he sat next to you on the couch, running a gentle hand through your hair as you fell asleep.

Matthew Casey

Awaking in a cold sweat, a sharp cry escaped your lips as you clutched at your chest. You couldn’t breathe, gasping loudly as tears stained your cheeks. You could still feel the phantom pain, ghosting through your chest and abdomen. Your head spun, as images of the accident flashed through your mind. You felt your chest tighten, not noticing the person beside you stir from their sleep. Your scream woke Matt up instantly, his hazed eyes instantly focusing on your disheveled and panicking form as you panted heavily. He was in front of you in a matter of seconds, cupping your face with his hands and wiping your tears away with the pad of his thumb. He called your name gently, reassuring you that you were alright, that you were safe. That you had survived the accident. He had suspected for a while that you might have been suffering from PTSD. Whenever one of your friends brought up the accident, your mind wandered, your eyes became distant, and you would sometimes fidget in your seat, or you would disappear to the bathroom only to return a few long minutes later. When you had calmed down, you descended into hysterics, sobbing loudly as the fear and horror descended into constant apologies. You apologised for waking him, and apologised for scaring him. He didn’t care. He didn’t care that you apologised, you didn’t need to. The next morning, despite your frustrated protests, Matt took you to the MED to speak with Dr. Charles. He stayed at the hospital for the entire hour long session, and once you returned, he felt his heart soar with the return of that sparkle in your eyes. The sparkle he fell in love with when he met you on that blind date.

Jay Halstead

Receiving a call from Will whilst he was working was a rarity. But when it concerned you, Jay immediately left the precinct and drove to the MED in record time. There was no doubt that Will had noticed how close the two of you had become, so when Will met him at the doors of the ED, it was serious. One of the patients you had been tending to had died, going into a sudden and fatal cardiac arrest. You were completely distraught, sitting at the table in the break room, bouncing your leg up and down with a cup of coffee in your hands. This was the first patient you had lost, and you didn’t know how to react. You were feeling too many emotions at one time, and you didn’t know how to handle it. Jay sat beside you, taking your hand in his whilst drawing circles on the back of your palm. You confided in him, telling him what had happened, how you tried so hard to bring them back. When you began to cry, Jay wrapped you in his arms, holding you close as you sobbed into his chest. He whispered soft comforting words in your ear, even though he knew that they wouldn’t take away the pain you were feeling. It was hard dealing with something like this. Jay knew, but the best thing he can do for you was to be here. You knew that losing a patient was a part of this job, and you hoped that you would soon grow used to this numb feeling. You suggested that maybe talking to Dr. Charles was a good idea, or maybe Will, or Natalie. Jay agreed, telling you that he had to get back to work, but he would be there to pick you up after your shift finished. If you needed anything, Jay suggested that you go to Will, knowing that his brother would help you with anything you asked him about. You smiled, giving a small wave goodbye as Jay left the ED.

[mlovesstories]

His Thoughts on Therapy 3

Words: 2300ish I think.

Warnings: violence, mention of mom’s death, glass eye, cussing

Summary: Dean and YN recover in their own ways.

Masterlist of Masterlists

After Sam started screaming, realizing Dean was so hurt, YN was on the phone with 911, she looked down at the woman bleeding out on the ground. 

“Mom?” 

Before they knew what had happened, YN was pulled away from kicking and punching her mom by a police officer. Dean was taken away in an ambulance. YN reached for Sam and wrapped her arms around him, holding him tightly. 

“She hurt Dee!” YN wailed into his shirt. Sam tried to hold back his own tears, but he knew he needed to drive to the hospital. 

“I know. Let’s go.”

“She stabbed his EYE, Sam!” 

“I know.” Sam took a deep breath. 

“Sam.” Dean stirred and reached for him the next day. 

His brother woke up from the chair next to the bed. 

“What happened?” 

“YN was sleeping in the guest room when she heard your screaming.  She found someone beating you up.”

Dean confusedly tried to take in the information.  

“Huh?”

“There is something you need to know,” Sam winced.  “It was YN’s mom.  She stabbed your eye. It’s gone, Dean.” 

“Wait, what?” Dean reached up to touch his eye. 

“Don’t, there is a bandage, and it’s healing.” 

Dean gasped.  He started crying. 

“I know.” Sam ran a hand through his hair. 

“What else?” 

“She stabbed you in your gut, but they were able to stop the bleeding. Fiona, YN’s mom, beat you up pretty good too.  Concussion, ribs.  But YN killed her with your bedroom lamp…” 

“She defended me against her own mom?” Dean tried to readjust in the bed but groaned when he felt all of the bandages.  “Where is she? 

“She felt really bad about how her mom treated you, so she’s hiding, as she stated in her text to me.” 

“Call her for me.” Dean reached out to Sam for his phone. 

Sam dialed the number, and YN picked up immediately.  

“Sam? How is he?” 

“Hey, Tissues,” Dean grinned. 

“DEAN!” She smiled to herself.  “I’ll be right there,” she was about to hang up when he stopped her.  

“Wait.  I heard you were hiding.” 

“No…” she tried to cover it up.  

“Promise me something. Go see Dr. Sky.” 

“Dean,” she whined again.

“Go, or I will pummel you when I feel better.  You know I will.” 

She huffed. 

“Try me.” Dean groaned.  “And don’t dote over me.  I’ll be fine.” 

“I’m so sorry Dean.  I didn’t know she was in town.  She should have hurt me.” YN rambled. 

“You have five seconds to shut up and hang up.  Then you’re going to make an appointment with Sky.  Got it?” 

“Fine, Winchester.” 

“I need to go to sleep now.  Bye, T.” He hung up with her and closed his eyelids in frustration. “She blames herself.”

“You can sort that out later. Right now we have other issues.” Sam pointed to his injuries.

Over the next few days, Sam saw Dean become sad, angry, and frustrated. The older brother threw things, screamed and tried to attack the doctor. He was currently strapped down to the bed. 

“Sammy, why?” 

“Because you got hurt.”

“No, not this,”  he looked to the tie downs. “I mean why did this happen?” 

“I don’t know, Dean. I really don’t.”

“I need to talk with Sky” 

“I called her. She made availability for you and YN later today over video chat.” 

“Good, because they said I couldn’t get out of these things for a while.” 

“You punched the staff, Dean.” 

“I lost my eye, dammit!” 

“Okay, okay,” Sam put a hand up. “You’re right. Look, they said if you were good they would let you go in an hour. Just wait it out.”

As the nurses were taking the straps off apprehensively, YN walked in with her laptop.

“Dean!” She gasped at his appearance. 

“Tissues,” he whispered. “You got hurt too,” Dean realized. 

“I’m fine, just a few scrapes.” 

“Ahem,” Sam glared at her. “No lying.” 

“Fine, I have a cracked rib, but I’m fine. We have an appointment with Dr. Sky in a few minutes. You ready?” She watched curiously as the staff finished with the straps. 

“Yeah. Sam, help me sit up.” 

Sam stood and felt Dean’s weight on his shoulders. He grunted, and Dean sat straighter. He pressed the button for his bed to be in a reclining position. 

“Mr. Winchester,” a nurse caught his attention. “If you get physical again with our staff,” she started. 

“Lady, I didn’t even realize what I was doing, okay? I just lost parts of my body, and I was involved with someone dying, so excuse me if I’m a little confused.” 

“Dean, it’s okay.” YN stood between him and the nurse. “He has been through a lot in the last 24 hours, I’m sure you would do the same if you watched someone die as well as lose your eye. Mister Winchester will be on his best behavior, right?” YN narrowed her eyes at the eldest brother.

“Yes, ma’am,” he nodded, taking a deep breath. 

“We have a therapy session, can you excuse me, please?” 

YN opened the laptop and turned on the video chat. Sam excused himself for privacy. 

“Hello, you two.” Dr. Sky smiled. “I’m so glad you two are okay.” 

Dean and YN frowned. 

“So, who wants to start?” 

Knowing that there was a lot to unpack, she let them lead the conversation and work through what they felt were the important parts.

“How are you feeling about all that?” 

“I’m honestly afraid. Dean will self-combust if he doesn’t put his effort into something after we get out of here. I think you’re going to need some major self-care, Dee.” 

“No, I won’t. I just need to get out of this-“ he shot up out of bed and was about to attack YN for calling him out when he winced. 

“I will tie you back down to this bed myself if I have to. You aren’t the only one who has had those!” She looked from the straps in the corner back to Dean. 

“Sorry.”

“I think coping skills are in order.” Doctor Sky said gently. “Dean, work with the hospital staff and those around you to see what you can do to relax. Maybe use a favorite hobby or an object to calm you down.”

“What, like a stuffed animal,” he rolled his eyes.  

“Dean!” YN gasped.  

“Okay, you two.  Work on finding some coping skills.  You will need them.  Call me if you need anything.” 

YN sighed and shut the laptop. Dean leaned back against his bed.  

“T,” he started. 

“What, Dean?” YN exacerbated.  

“Take the other bed over there.  Sleep.” 

“I’m okay.” 

“YN…” he whined at her. “I know you have probably been up for hours.  We went through a lot, just go.” 

YN gave in and plopped herself down on the extra bed.  

“Sleep.” Dean told her. 

“I’m sorry, Dean.  I didn’t mean to get you hurt…” 

“Oh, don’t start that.  You know it’s not your fault.  Go to sleep.”

“Fine.” 

“Will you stop rolling your eyes? I can see you with the eyes in the back of my head.” 

The two slept while Sam went to the shop and check on things.

A few hours later, YN stirred. 

She heard Dean roll over.  

“So, when are you going to tell me why your mom tried to hurt me?” He chuckled but coughed.  

“Dean…” 

“Come on, I can take it. My life sucked sometimes too.” 

“Did your mom beat your ass until it was black and blue? Did your dad leave you because your mom was a psychopath? Did she make your brother disappear and possibly kill him too?”

“Woah, woah. Hey, it’s okay.” 

“She’s always been obsessed with stuff.  She must’ve seen you as a threat.  I don’t know how she found me.” YN sat up on the hospital bed.  “I need to go to work.  I’ve already taken too much time off.”

“You have sick days, you ass.” He rolled his eyes. 

“I want to save those for emergencies.” 

“We were both attacked… BY YOUR MOM, YN.” 

“I know.  Look, I gotta go-” 

“I’m not letting Sam clock you in today. Lie down. In fact, come over here.” He readjusted. Grunting, she slowly stood and walked to face him. 

“What, warden?”

“Come here,” he moved his arm so that she could sit on the edge of his bed. “Go see Sky,” he whispered as she sat down. “I can’t see you hurting. Please.” 

“We saw her-“

“We did, but you will not decline. Promise me.” 

“Dean.” 

“Yeah, well, you just killed your mom to save me. Make an appointment or I will.”

“Fine.” 

A week later, YN begrudgingly showed up to Doctor Sky’s office. Injuries still visible. She wore a hat and a scarf. 

“Hi, YN,” the doctor looked her over. 

“Hi.” 

“How’s Dean?” 

YN shrugged.

“He’s better.” 

“How are you?” 

“I’m okay. Been through hell.”

“You have.” Sky agreed. 

YN sat quietly during their session only answering in short fragments. 

Dean went home to recover. The medical team had to put in a glass eye since his eye could not be recovered. He spent a little time at the shop working on cars, but he was now making more of the office-type decisions. When he was at home, he sulked. 

“I haven’t been buying you beer, and yet you have one in your hand…” Sam walked into the room and crashed next to his brother on the couch. 

“Excuse me for dealing with my issues…” 

“Give it,” Sam motioned. 

“No.” 

“You’re not dealing with it. You’re drinking.”

“Whatever, Sam.” 

Sam knew Dean’s weaknesses, so he reached for it out of Dean’s like of sight.

“DAMMIT, SAM!”

“You don’t get to wallow. I will call YN and have her whip you into shape if I have to.” 

“Yeah, right. Give it back.” 

Sam dumped the drink down the sink.

“SAM!”  Dean tried to stand but lost his balance and fell back on the couch. 

“No, you don’t get to throw your life away.” 

Sam pulled out his phone and called YN.

“He’s being an ass. Can you come over?” 

Sam slammed his phone down on the counter and got a soda out of the fridge. 

“Here. Drink this.” 

Dean caught the can. He rolled his eyes. 

“WHAT IN THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?” YN stomped into their house. 

“Not you too…” Dean rolled his eyes. 

“Getting drunk again?” 

“Nah.” 

“Right…Dean, I went to Sky’s office the other day. She said you haven’t attended in a bit.” 

“So?” 

“So, we’re having a session. Right now.” YN pulled out her laptop and opened it.

“No!” He tried to grab at it, but he twinged. 

“Hi, Sky!” YN waved. 

“Oh! Both of you today!”  Doctor Sky smiled. Her face dropped when she saw Dean’s expression. “Dean, you okay?”

“I’m forcing him to talk to you because he is being a piece of shi-“

“Woah! No insults in my sessions.” 

“Sorry,” YN sighed. 

“It’s been brought to my attention that you’ve not been using your coping skills.” Doctor Sky stated.  “You either, YN.” 

“What?” They both exclaimed.  

“Sam let me know that Dean has been drinking a lot more, and YN has been choosing to binge Netflix instead of going running and to the gym like we agreed.”

“I’m fine, doc.  I’ve been doing yoga on my TV.” 

“And you, Winchester?” Sky shifted her gaze to the man.  

“This is stupid.” Dean shrugged.  

“My job is to help you.  How can I help you?” Sky asked without judgement.

“Doc…” Dean rolled his eyes.  

“You’re the one paying me, I suppose.” 

“I’ve been through the shit.”

“You would be correct.” The therapist nodded.  

“I can’t just listen to music or work out, it’s not that easy!” 

“Dean.” YN put a hand up.  “I think we just need to stay in check.” 

“You killed your mom, YN.  You’ll have to stay in check.  And Dean, you can’t turn to the old habits.  You know that.” 

“You know what, never mind,” Dean tried to move the laptop off of his lap and stand, but he once again could not handle his own weight.  

“Your recovery is ultimately up to you, Winchester.” Sky stated evenly.  

“Yeah, yeah.” He sighed.  “You’re not my mom, Sky.  Don’t try to be-” 

“DEAN!” YN gasped.

“Dean.” Their therapist calmed her clients.  

“I’m sorry, Sky.  I didn’t mean it.” 

“You’re angry.  I get it.  Use the anger for good.  Have you been going back to the shop?”

“I’m useless, doc. My eye is gone, my leg is messed up.” 

“So what are you gonna do about it?” Sky narrowed her eyes at him.  

“No reverse psychology shit, doc.  Come on.”

“It’s my job.  Talk it out.” 

“I could go back to the shop more.  I guess I could be a floater.”

“I can help you round the shop, Dean.” 

“No, it’s okay.  I need to do this on my own.” 

“Wait, Dean.” 

Sky talked with the two about being graceful with each other and letting each other help in the shop.  Dean agreed to YN guiding him back into his role at Winchester Auto. YN could tell that Dean was upset.  

“Bye, Sky!” YN waved to the camera. She closed the laptop.  “Talk to me.” YN turned to face Dean. 

“Leave it alone, T.”

@akshi8278  

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[sophielovesbarnes]

All or nothing, chapter two.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Winchester!reader

Warnings: Fluff, pregnancy and cursing.

Author note: Alright, here we are, hot out of the oven! Sorry if it took long, I got stuck on a scene but I finally broke the writer’s block and was able to finish this chapter, we will get to see a bit more of SPN on this chapter.

I hope you enjoy it, please let me know what do you think, dm me if you want to be tagged and remember requests are open.

Chapter one

Masterlist

Chapter two

“Come on ladies! They are not called suicide running drills for nothing!” Your coach screams, you are beyond exhausted, your legs feel like they will give in, in any second now, you are covered in sweat from head to toe and your lungs feel like they are on fire. With the National competition getting closer every day your coach gets more demanding and the training sessions become more intense.

“So.” You manage to get out. “I don’t know if calling him is too straight forward.”

“Well.” Ingrid answers with her chest heaving. “It’s not like you have cared about that before.”

“Winchester! Fritz! If you are able to speak then you are not doing it right!” 

Ingrid smiles at you and then you both get back to running, an hour; that feels like an eternity later, you are under the shower letting the water wash away your exhaustion, you still have two classes left and you need to mentally prepare yourself for them. 

When you are changing into a pink dress Ingrid returns to the topic.

“So what are you going to do?” She asks while brushing her hair. “Are you gonna call the hot FBI agent?”

“I think I will.” You tie your hair up and close your locker. “There’s something really special about him, I just can’t put my finger in what.” 

“Aww little Y/N has a crush.”

“Shut it Ingrid, at least I’m doing something about mine.” You say teasingly.

“Hey I’m your base, you don’t wanna bother me.” You both look at each other with serious looks in your face and then burst into laughter. “No but seriously, tell me how it goes.” 

“Will do, bye babes.” You kiss her cheek and then leave the locker room. 

During class you are barely able to pay attention, when your psychodynamic teacher is talking about the five stages of psychosexual development and the fixations in the oral stage your mind is traveling far away, focused on soft brunet locks and shy smiles.

After school you go back to your apartment, you order chinese for dinner and when the food comes and you are so distracted you are almost sure you gave the delivery guy a 50 dollar bill and told him to keep the change, you eat absentmindedly and then head to your bathroom toying with your phone, after taking a bath you are on your bed, dressed with clean pajamas and your hair wrapped up with a towel, then you finally gather enough courage to make the call. 

The phone rings three times before he answers.

“Hello?” Your heart flutters at the sound of his voice. 

“Doctor Reid?”

“Who is this?” He asks, you can hear the nervousness in his voice.

“It’s Y/N Winchester.” You answer calmly .”You gave me your card at the FBI lecture at Louisville.” 

“Right, how- how may I help you?” He replies.

“I have a lot of questions, and you told me to call if I had them.” You take a deep breath and then say with a wide smile on your face. “But I thought it would be unfair to just ask without giving something in return, so what do you say about me buying you coffee tomorrow? If you’re still in town.” 

Silence.

You mentally slap yourself for being too straightforward, what made you think that he wants to go out with you? He most likely has a girlfriend and here you are throwing yourself to him? God, you are so stupid.

“I-I yeah, that would be…” You listen to him taking a deep breath and then he continues. “That would be nice.”

“Great! We should go to Quills, they make this mean peach- lavender lattes.”

“Sounds good.”

“Does four o’clock work for you?”

“Yeah, that’s okay.” 

“Hey pretty boy, who are you talking to?” Says a voice on the back, then the call ends.

You are smiling so hard your cheeks hurt, you have a date; well, meeting with doctor Reid, and you can barely hold your emotion. What are you gonna wear? What are you gonna say? Maybe this was a rash idea. 

The ring of your phone snaps your mind out of it, when you pick up you see your brother’s face and on the back you hear the sound of vomiting.

“I’m guessing Jo hasn’t passed the throwing up all the time fase.”

“At this point I am pretty sure she kind of hates me.” Says your Adam.

“I don’t kind of hate you Adam, I hate you, hate you.” You hear Jo say, then the sound of vomiting returns.

Jo’s pregnancy had caught everyone off guard, she and Adam were always fighting or calling each other names, but then at the New Year’s Eve party Ellen threw on the Roadhouse they both had too much to drink and the next thing you knew was that you were going to have another nephew or niece in nine months, there was a lot of crying and at some point Ellen threatened to cut your brother’s balls off, now she was just happy with the idea of having a grandchild. 

After the initial shock you were happy as well, this wasn’t your first nephew/niece though, Sam and Jessica had two beautiful daughters you adored, Dean had Ben; who was only a couple years younger than you, which was weird; and with Castiel, Dean had applied to be a foster parent, they now had a little boy; Leo, and were hoping to get another child.

You had such a beautiful family and were so grateful for it. 

“How are you baby sis?” Adam asks, ignoring Jo’s comment.

“I’m good, very tired, our coach is killing us, and I have a duckton of homework, but in general things are going great, what about you, how are things going on Kansas?”

“Things are good, the workshop is getting a lot of cars, Sam, Jess and the girls visit us every now and then, and Dean and Cas are all about Leo.”

“That’s gonna be you in a couple months you know? Have you thought of any names?”

“Jo likes William or Genevieve, I like Magnolia or Jebediah, Jo doesn’t like them so we have reached an impasse.” You see Jo exiting the bathroom and standing next to your brother.

“Those are old people’s names, tell him Y/N.” Jo says. “Tell him they are horrible names and we are not naming my child like an old person.”

“Our child” He corrects, “And they are good names Joanna.”

“I hate to not be on your side bro, but Jo is right, they are horrible.” You say.

“Thank you Y/N at least one Winchester is using her brain.” Adam rolls his eyes and you laugh.

“They are good names!” Adam insists.

“No they are not.”  You and Jo say at the same time, she was your best friend and somehow you were always in synchrony. 

“Now if you can’t reach an agreement Y/N is always a good option, it has character, it’s pretty, and let's be honest, the world could use another Y/N Winchester.”

“We don’t need another traitor.” Adam answers with false hurt. 

“Ugh, stop being such a drama queen Adam, you know what? Your baby wants an Oreo McFlurry.” 

“Five minutes ago you were throwing up and now you want a McFlurry?” 

“Yes, so better get on the road because they are going to close, don't do this for me Adam, do it for your baby.”

“So now it’s my baby?” They both start bickering and you swear they already act like a married couple, eventually Jo wins the discussion, because being honest there is no better argument than “I am carrying your baby” so Adam says his goodbyes and leaves grudgingly.  You and Jo stay talking for hours, it’s almost 3 am when you hang up, and you fall asleep right after.

When you wake up you feel well rested and you feel like you slept for so long, the sun comes bright through the window and your whole body feels relaxed, which is weird because you went to sleep really late last night, which gets you thinking that you never heard your alarm.

Wait.

You take your phone and press the side button, but the screen doesn’t turn on. 

“Shit! Shit! Shit!” You didn’t charge your phone, so the battery is dead which means that you are probably very late, you look up at the watch that’s on the wall, which indicates that it is already 12:15 in the morning, you are definitely very late. 

You jump out of the bed and run to the bathroom, no time for showering, you brush your teeth and get dressed with a pair of jeans, plain white t-shirt and sneakers, you tie your hair on a high ponytail, take your bag and run to the kitchen, you grab a banana and a bottle of water and run out of your house. 

You race on the road and make it to school on record time, at this time of the day it is barely impossible to find a parking space that is empty, when you manage to park it’s almost one, you mentally curse, get out of the car and run to the classroom, this promises to be a hell of a day. 

*****

Spencer has never liked this kind of conferences, they bring him back to his college years, which are not something he likes to think about, he didn’t have the standar university experience, most of the time he was made fun of, being the target of stupid pranks or being just ignored by his classmates, so yeah, college wasn’t something he remembered fondly.

He was on edge until yesterday, when he saw you on the lecture; he had already seen you on the football field being thrown into the air and then landing perfectly with a magazine worthy smile, of course he thought you were pretty, because you were one of the prettiest girls he had ever landed eyes on, but you were also most likely the type of girl that only cared about vain things and would have never noticed him if you had been one of his classmates; he was proved wrong during the lecture.

You weren’t only pretty, you were also smart, probably the smartest girl in that classroom, you were informed and you clearly cared about the topic, and when the lecture ended you went to him, when all the girls went with Morgan or Rossi, you decided to go with him; he was in such a rush he even had the bravery to give you his card.

And then the impossible happened, you called him, and not only that, you asked him out and he hasn’t felt this nervous in ages.

“Reid, Reid.” Morgan’s voice brings him back to the room, he and Rossi are looking at him with worry. “Everything alright pretty boy? You have been acting weirder than usual since yesterday.” 

“I am fine.” He answers almost automatically.

“Are you sure?” Rossi asks with an eyebrow raised. “We are worried about you kid.”

“Yeah.” He says. “Colleges just bring me to the edge.”

“Well, don’t worry about it pretty boy, we are just going to be here three more days and we are back to Quantico.”

“I know.” 

*****

The whole day you feel like you are running, you are late for class which gets you a reprimand from your teacher, which gets you late to your next class, which ends up getting you late to cheerleading practice. Your coach is so mad she has you running suicides and practicing toe touches until your legs feel like jello. 

“Point your toes Winchester! And smile, you have to sell it!”  She screams at you, everytime you jump you feel your muscles pull and your empty stomach hurls, you are almost sure that if you keep jumping you might throw up. 

When your coach finally lets you go it’s already 4:20, you mentally do the math, if you go to the locker rooms and shower you will be in the coffee shop at almost five o’clock, and agent Reid is probably already waiting for you, so you just grab your bag and run to your car mentally cursing yourself for not charging your phone. 

****

Spencer manages to escape Morgan and Rossi, avoiding their questions and he makes it to the coffee shop you indicated by 3:45, minutes go by tortuously, he sees people coming in and out from the coffee with cups on their hands, he sees people laughing and students dragging their feet, the exhaustion of exams and projects reflecting clearly on them, he gets a lot of looks and he starts to grow desperate, he calls you over and over but the calls go straight to voicemail.

By 4:30 he decides you stood him up, this was most likely a prank, how did he not notice? He was a grown ass man, an FBI agent, he was a profiler and still he fell for it. He feels terrible, how could he believe such a beautiful woman would ask him out and actually show up? He takes his bag and gets up from the chair, when he is leaving he sees a car parking and a y/h/c haired girl wearing a Cardinals hoodie and grey yoga pants getting down and running to the coffee shop. 

It was you, you didn’t stand him up, you were actually there, he can barely hold his emotion. 

“Doctor Reid.” You say, your forehead is covered in sweat and your chest is going up and down rapidly. “I am so, so, so, sorry, did I make you wait too long? I’m sorry, my phone died, and my alarm never went off, and I’ve been late everywhere, and my practice lasted too long, and i didn’t have your card so I couldn’t call you from another phone, and I came here right out of my training, so I must smell like a monster and I am so sorry.”

“It’s okay, I didn’t wait for long.” He lies, and you smile at him, and he can swear it is the most beautiful smile he has ever seen. “Should we order?” 

“Yeah, yeah.” You lead the way and stop at the bar. “Hey Lindsey.”

The redhead barista smiles at you and then you look at him and he notices how your y/e/c sparkle with the white lights of the coffee shop. 

“What do you want?” You ask.

“You said something about peach lattes?”

“Peach-lavender lattes, it sounds weird but they are great.” You reply, and by this point he’s sure he would believe if you said the moon was made of tofu. 

“I’ll have one.”

“Great, two large peach-lavender lattes and a bagel please, can I also borrow your charger?” Lindsay marks your order on the cash register and tells you the total, when Spencer takes out his wallet you stop him. “No, I said I was buying.”

“No, I insist.” 

“Doctor Reid, put your wallet down, I was terribly late and I said I was buying, you can pay the next time.” The fact that you imply that there might be a next time makes his heart flutter. 

“Alright.” He agrees, when you get your orders you sit on the table he was waiting on and there’s a moment of awkward silence he is not sure how to break. “So, so you said you had questions?”

“Yes, I do.” You take a sip from your coffee and then look at him, he is expecting questions about the FBI, but that’s not where you go. “You have three PhDs, three BAs and you are only thirty-four, how is that even possible? Are you like a genius?”

“I, I don’t believe intelligence can be accurately quantified, but I do have an IQ of 187, eidetic memory and can read 20,000 words per minute.” You stare at him with your eyes wide open and a smile on your lips. “...yes, I’m a genius.”

“That’s… wow.” The conversation flows after that, he talks about some of the most interesting cases he has had, you intervene every now and then making questions or comments that always seem to go to the correct point, and he feels like he can speak freely with you.

“Well, the vast majority of unsubs with a similar MO aren’t driven by the killing, they are merely fascinated by the body parts, it’s like they psychologically exist in a realm where fantasy meets delusion, it’s basically like the blueprint to create the perfect serial killer… I’m rambling aren’t I?”

“It’s okay, it’s fascinating, please go on.” You are one of the only persons he has ever met that reacts that way, most of the time he gets interrupted, he is about to start again when your phone rings, you take a look at the screen and then say. “Sorry I have to take this, it will be just a sec.”

He smiles and nods and you slide to answer. 

“What is the point of having an expensive phone if you never answer? Do you know how worried I was?”

“Hi Dean.” You reply, internally laughing at the overprotectiveness of your brother. 

“Don’t “hi Dean” me, where have you been? Why haven’t you been answering your texts?”

“I’m in a coffee shop, and my phone died last night and I couldn’t charge it until now.” 

“Who are you with?”

“I’m with a… friend.”

“Friend? Are you out with a boy? Who is he? Let me talk to him.”

“Stop being so jealous Dean.” 

“So you are with a boy.”

“I’m sorry I have to go, love you, bye.” You say and you don’t even give him time to protest before you hang up. “Sorry about that.”

“No problem.” He must have guessed you wouldn’t be single, he feels jealousy invading him, and he fiddled with his empty cup. “Was that your boyfriend?”

“Gross, no.” There’s a wave of relief when you answer that, and he probably shouldn’t feel it, he’s leaving in a few days, it’s not like there’s the possibility of a relationship. “It was my brother, he can get all Mama Bear when he is worried.”

“Oh, is he your only brother?”

“No, I have three, Dean, Sam and Adam, I am the youngest, like by far, Dean is 19 years older, Sam is 15 years older and Adam beats me by 8 years.”

“That’s a big difference.”

“Yeah, Dean and Sam are my half-brothers, from dad’s first marriage, their mother died when they were very young and dad took it very hard and started to move them around the country, that’s how he met my mom, he went to Minnesota they had a one night stand and she got pregnant, but she didn’t tell him about Adam until he was like six, then he went back to Windom, they fell in love, dad moved them to Kansas, he married my mom and then they had me, hence the age gap.” You explain. “What about you? Any brothers or sisters?”

“No, I’m an only child, I grew up with Doctor Who and Star Trek as my companions.”

“Doctor Who?”

“Yeah, it’s, it’s good.”

“I know, I’m not gonna act like I didn’t mourn for a week when Ten left Rose on the beach.”

“You like it?”

“I may look like your stereotype cheerleader, but I’m a huge geek, Dean and his best friend Charlie made sure of that.”

The conversation flows as freely as water after that, for some reason you find it easy to talk to him, you tell him so many things you haven’t even told Jo, you talk about everything, favorite holidays; yours is Christmas, his is Halloween; tv shows, characters. You delite with his rambling and pay attention to every word he says, when you finally realize it, the sky has turned dark and you are the last people in the coffee shop.

“I think we should probably let them close.” 

“Yeah, we should.” You both take your bags and stand up. “Hey, when are you leaving town?”

“On friday.”

“Let me make you dinner, I make a killer lasagna.” You look at him expecting an answer but he can barely say anything, he just had an amazing evening with a gorgeous girl who is now inviting him to her house, he should probably pinch himself to make sure he is not dreaming. “Spencer?”

“Yeah, that sounds good.”

“It’s a date then.”

[princess-of-riviaa]

Inflicting Misery ch.3

Pairing: August Walker x Reader

Summary: A mission gone awry puts in the hospital on life support. In the meantime, August tries to process everything.

Author’s Note: This chapter will be in August’s POV and the following chapters will be back in reader’s POV.

Warning(s): none, just angst and floof :)

word count: 2094

“How have you been, August?” Dr. Tolsen asks me, like we’re old friends catching up over a cup of coffee.

“Why don’t you ask the bags under my eyes?” I bark. I haven’t slept in forty-eight hours. My brain is starting to play tricks on me, begging me to close my eyes for just an hour. But every time I blink, all I can see is Lorenzo shooting that damn bullet through Y/N’s chest and her dying in my arms.

No. She hasn’t died yet. What happened to her is much worse. She’s stuck inside the nation’s top medical facility and hooked up to a million machines that are breathing for her, keeping her heart beating, keeping her body working. She’s at the goddamn misery of those hideous machines. If they switch off, she’s gone.

“You went on a recent mission to Las Vegas,” Dr. Tolsen says. “Would you like to tell me about it?”

“No,” I growl.

But Dr. Tolsen has been my therapist for long enough that he knows the game I’m playing. He doesn’t bother getting frustrated. Instead, he addresses the heart of the matter. “Your partner, Agent Y/L/N, got hurt during the mission. How does that make you feel?”

How does that make me feel? Like I want to rip Lorenzo’s head off of his body. Like Y/N should have moved faster, should have gotten her gun out sooner, should have stopped looking at me with that light in her eyes like I meant something to her, and maybe she wouldn’t be in that goddamn hospital right now.

Helpless.

It makes me feel absolutely fucking helpless. Because I watched it all happen. Because I didn’t protect her. Because that bullet should have gone straight through me, a man who’s more monster than human, and yet it went through the best woman I’ve ever known instead. And now she can’t even breathe on her own.

I did that to her.

It’s my fault.

I may as well have been the one to shoot her.

“These are all reasonable emotions to be experiencing when someone you care about is dying,” Dr. Tolsen says, and that’s when I realize that I just said all of that out loud. I tend to dissociate during these therapy sessions. If I’m too far inside my head to even realize my mouth is moving and words are tumbling out, it somehow makes it all easier to say out loud. “It’s times like this when it’s crucial for you to remember that emotions in and of themselves aren’t good or bad. They’re just emotions. But it’s how you choose to react to them, the actions you take in response to those emotions that is good or bad.”

I know that. He’s said that at least a hundred times by now. He probably thinks that if he repeats it enough times, I’ll start turning into a better person. The thought is laughable. I’m beyond saving. Doesn’t he realize that?

“Have you visited her yet?” Dr. Tolsen asks.

No. I haven’t gone anywhere near her. It’s my fault she’s in there to begin with. Me being around her now, when she’s desperately in need of a miracle, will only make things worse.

“I think seeing her will provide you with some much needed closure,” he says.

Closure? She’s not fucking dead.

“Not yet, but--”

No! She’s not gonna die. She’ll recover. She’ll get better. But if I come to visit, that’ll ruin everything. I have to stay away and then she’ll come back to us.

“To us? Or to you?”

This isn’t about me.

“It’s been about you since day one,” Dr. Tolsen argues. “This woman cares about you, and deep down you know it. I think that’s why you’re feeling so guilty. You think you’ve corrupted her somehow. That getting shot was her consequence for daring to care about you.”

Everyone who gets close to me dies. That’s just how it works.

“You didn’t sign her death sentence, August,” he says. “And whether this woman lives or dies--none of that will matter if you can’t see that. You need to forgive yourself. You did not put her in harm’s way. She knew the job she signed up for. She knew what she was getting herself into. You did not do this to her. She’s not in the hospital right now because of you. August--look at me.”

My eyes jump to his.

“Hear me when I say this: You. Did. Nothing. Wrong.”

Yeah, right.

He repeats himself, again and again. “You did nothing wrong. You did nothing wrong. You did nothing wrong.”

He says it enough that the words fight through the barriers of my mind and suddenly my head is in my heads and I’m crying, I’m fucking crying like a baby and I can’t stop, not even to get air in my lungs and it’s hurts, oh god it fucking hurts.

...

She stood out in a crowd of beautiful women. Even from the first moment I saw her I couldn’t keep my eyes off of her. I wanted this woman.

I go to take a seat beside her at the bar. I give the bartender my order and turn to her. She keeps her head down, trying to be as unnoticeable as possible, but I can’t take my eyes off of her. I eye the glass in front of her.

“Vodka your drink?” I ask.

She looks at me for the first time. Her eyes are a deep brown and there’s a flicker of innocence in them. Her cheekbones are sharp and that mouth--

I want that small mouth wrapped around my cock. As if hearing my thoughts, my cock stirs to life in my pants. I’m grateful for the dim lights in the bar. She can’t see my body’s reaction to her.

“Usually nothing’s my drink,” she confesses, and her voice is like a smooth velvet. “But tomorrow’s my first day at my new job and I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep tonight without some help.”

I say nothing, letting her continue. I like the sound of her voice as much as she likes to talk, apparently.

“I’m sorry, I talk when I anxious,” she admits with a blush. “And when I’m drunk. And when I’m anxious and drunk.”

“You’re really that stressed about your job?” I wonder.

She gives me a sheepish smile and then pauses, looking a me with a defensive expression. “I’m sure you’re nice and everything, but I have too much going on right now to have a hookup, so you should probably try your moves on some other drunk woman.”

That makes me chuckle. “I don’t do hookups, either. I was just trying to have a conversation.”

Her face flushes. God, I love how easy it is to get a reaction out of this woman. “Oh, shit. I’m so sorry--that was rude. I didn’t--I just, um... I’ve had a little too much to drink and it’s turned me into a bit of a ballsy bitch.”

I offer her my arm. “Why don’t I help this ‘ballsy bitch’ find a cab? You’ll need sleep before tomorrow.”

She gives me a grateful look and takes my arm. Her hands are so small that they can’t even wrap around my entire arm. I wonder how big my cock would look in her hands--though now I’ll probably never get a chance to find out.

I wave over a cab for her outside and open the back door for her.

“You’re really sweet,” she says before she enters the cab. “I’m so sorry for talking your ear off and being rude. This isn’t really my best moment.”

“Let’s just hope you’re having a better moment tomorrow,” I say. “A good first impression with the boss is crucial.”

She giggles drunkenly. “Yeah, they are, um... what’s your name?”

I say the first name that comes to mind. “Henry.”

She blinks up at me and damn, those lashes are long. This woman is completely gorgeous and she’s so unaware of it. “I’m glad I met you, Henry.” And then she kisses me. Her mouth moves clumsily against mine, sloppy due to her drunkenness, and I let her kiss me for a second. I even kiss her back before pushing her away. “I’m sorry, I thought you wanted, um... I’m sorry.”

I tuck a strand of hair behind her ear and assure her, “Believe me, I wanted that. But I’m not about to take advantage of a woman who’s too drunk to remember me in the morning.”

She opens her mouth, but the cab driver honks his horn impatiently, and whatever she was about to say dies on her lips. She gives me one last smile before getting the cab. I close the door behind her and watch the car drive off.

Little did I know that my company’s new agent we’d hired a week ago was starting the next day. And it was her, my little drunken girl that I’d already thought about fucking the life out of. God, was I in deep shit.

...

I run through the halls of the hospital. My feet can’t carry me to her room fast enough. After what feels like a year I make it to Room 246. Half the team is already in there, crowding around Y/N’s bed. I pause in the doorway. She looks up at me. She’s actually awake.

“You’re awake,” I say, stating the obvious like an idiot.

She smiles, but I can see the strain on her face. She’s exhausted. “You can’t get rid of this ballsy bitch that easily, August.”

Hearing my name in her mouth... God, I should be sent to hell for the things I’m thinking. She just woke up from a fucking coma and all I can think about is fucking her.

“How are you feeling?” Savannah asks, our team’s weapons expert and medic. She runs a hand down Y/N’s arm and I know it’s meant to be comforting but dammit, I’m seconds away from cutting Savannah’s hand off. No one touches Y/N. No one but me.

“Tired,” Y/N confesses. “The doctor came in just before you all got here. He said they performed surgery on my lung. They got the bullet out but my body’s going to need a while to recover.”

“Of course,” Savannah said in a soothing voice. This girl was really getting on my nerves right now.

“Is there anything you need from us?” Lorenzo asks.

Wait.

Lorenzo?!

What the fucking hell is he doing here?

I look over to see him standing in the corner. How the hell had I not noticed him already? In two strides I’m in front of him, his shirt in my hand. I punch him hard in the jaw before I feel someone pull me back. Savannah.

“What the hell, Walker?” she shouts.

“He fucking shot her!” I exclaim. “He shouldn’t be here--he shouldn’t be anywhere near her!”

“August!” Y/N calls out. Her tone is pleading.

I force myself to breathe and take a step back. Lorenzo clutches his jaw. His eyes are watering. Savannah wraps an arm around him and drags him out of the room, leaving me alone with Y/N.

“It was an accident,” Y/N insists. “He wasn’t trying to hurt me.”

“Yet here we are,” I say bitterly. “If he know what’s good for him--”

“Please,” she sighs. “I don’t want to talk about him.”

I look into her brown eyes, as alluring as ever. “Want do you want to talk about?”

“I don’t want to talk,” she admits. “Can you just... can you lie next to me?”

I hesitate.

“Don’t make me pull the crippled card,” she jokes.

I take in a breath and move to her bed. She does her best to slide over to make room for me, but these stupid hospital beds are built for twelve-year-olds, so there’s hardly enough room for us to both fit. She moves into my arms and rests her head on my chest. Shit, she can probably hear how fast my heart is beating. Her hand rests on my stomach. The touch is completely innocent, but I fucking want her. I’ll take her right here and now if she’s willing. But I hear her breathing slow and even out and I know she’s fallen asleep. With her in my arms--with her awake and breathing and talking--my body finally relaxes. I close my eyes and let sleep take over.

[sope-and-shine]

You Drive Me Nuts

-> Pairings: Jeongguk x Reader -> Fluff // College!AU  -> Word Count: 2.1k -> Summary: With great powers comes great responsibility. And yes, an EpiPen is a responsibility, Jeon Jeongguk. -> Warnings: mild language // responsible use of an EpiPen for an irresponsible reason.

A/N: I have no clue what the process is through anaphylaxis once it gets to the doctors, so I tried my best. I hope you enjoy! 

*

*

You told him.

You’ve told him on more than one occasion.

You’ve reminded Jeongguk multiple times that it is in no way acceptable for him to eat a Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup when he’s allergic to peanuts! He’s 20yrs old, for Christ sake, you shouldn’t have to remind him what he can and cannot eat! Any sane person would think, ‘Oh no, that’ll make my throat close up and I could die’ and turn the candy offer down.

But no.

Not this idiot.

He’s apparently a psychopath!

You were just studying in the cafe waiting for the other boys to join you before you get your food. No harm in that at all. They were always late cutting across campus, so getting some homework out of the way or a quick study session never hurt. Normal day.

Not a problem.

As soon as they all began to make their appearances, you had put away your working materials so you’d be ready to get something to eat. As soon as they all arrived, it was left to Jeongguk to watch your belongings since he was the last to arrive at the table. Nothing new, it was usually between him, Taehyung, and Namjoon to watch the table. Not only that, but he was more than happy to take a seat at the table. You figured he was tired from running across the campus and just wanted to sit. Nothing to worry about.

You should have worried.

You all left him alone for a total of maybe 15 minutes. 15 minutes to get your food so you could enjoy the rest of your day, 15 minutes so he could sit and watch your belongings, 15 minutes for him to be a regular adult, and apparently 15 minutes for him to contemplate asking the table next to yours for the Reese’s and have it open and in one hand with his EpiPen in the other by the time you got back.

“Jeon Jeongguk! You put that Reese’s cup down and wash your hands right now! Are you crazy?!” Your outburst not only catches his attention, but those around you as well. Multiple eyes are on you including his, but his eyes are staring into yours in fear, contemplation, and partial regret. 

Jimin comes up next to you with his own lunch, stopping when he sees the predicament. He sighs, “He cannot be serious.” 

It’s almost as if you can see the gears turning in Jeongguk’s head, contemplating if he should make his next move or not. You can see the longing in his eyes, and a part of you already knows what he’s about to do before he does it. He pops the treat into his mouth in one bite, and the look of pure joy and elation tells you this exact situation could - and will - happen again. He shouldn’t look as pleased as he does slamming a needle into his thigh, but his smile is all you need to see.

“Jimin, call an ambulance!” You order, rushing to your friend - soon to be dead friend - and dropping your lunch on the table next to him. A million thoughts are running through your head as you take the seat next to him, watching the stupid bunny smile appear on his face. Your first immediate reaction is to choke him, but he’s about to do that himself. So, instead, you settle for hitting the back of his head. “Are you insane?! What possessed you to do that, you psychopath?!”

“My mom never let me eat them, so I-” He coughs, beginning to feel the effects of his allergy trying to battle the epinephrine. “-I wanted to try one…”

“She didn’t let you eat them because YOU ARE ALLERGIC!” You rage. You’re almost completely dumbfounded by this man’s absolute stupidity. How he made it to college, you could never understand after this. You grab his face in your hands and squish his cheeks together to look into his mouth at the back of his throat. “Any good, sensible mother-! No. Scratch that. Any good, sensible PERSON wouldn’t let you eat one!”

He fights a smile, his face still trapped between your hands, “Worth it.”

As the other boys get back from getting their food, they all begin to close in on what happened with the youngest member of the squad. Namjoon, ever the responsible adult he is, sighs when he catches sight of the used EpiPen and the crumpled Reese’s wrapper next to it. “Jeongguk, what the fuck?”

“What did you do?!” Jin cries, setting his food on the table to take the other side of your ‘patient’. His mother’s intuition kicks in as he takes over your role of nurse, “Are you stupid or something?”

Yoongi takes a seat at the table next to the discarded trays and starts eating, completely unbothered. Shoving a french fry in his mouth, he turns to the rest of the group that is still unsure as to what they should do in the situation. “Make a note, everyone. As soon as he gets out of the hospital, I’m killing him.”

While the others begin to have a seat or discuss the current dilemma, Jeongguk turns to you with seemingly tired eyes full of mischief, “(Y/n)...I can see the light.” His voice has a slight croak to it, and every breath has a slight wheeze.

“Good. Walk into it.” Is your answer petty? Absolutely. But you can't help but glare at him for the stunt he just pulled, especially when he’s trying to hit you with puppy dog eyes. “Don’t pout at me. You deserve this.”

It only takes about 10 more minutes for the ambulance to arrive on campus to pick up the idiot next to you. Which is good, because his breathing was only getting harder and more erratic as you waited with him even after having him lay down to clear his airways a little more. He tried to be cool the entire time they were adjusting him onto the gurney, cracking jokes and flashing the occasional hand sign at Tae’s phone while he took pictures for his Snapchat, but you could tell he was feeling the consequences of his actions when they administered oxygen to him.

*

*

*

After a short ride to the hospital, an hour and a half of sitting in the waiting room of the ER doing homework, and half an hour waiting for Jeongguk to wake up and finish getting scolded by the doctor’s and nurses for his stupid actions, you’re finally left alone with him again on a small couch by the window of his room. His hair isn’t as nicely kept as it was this morning, his street clothes were replaced with a hospital gown at some point during his visit and placed in the bag next to his bed, and his overall appearance just looks completely exhausted. Even so, he looks a lot better than he did at lunch.  

“You know, I thought that would go a lot better.” He admits with a chuckle, breaking the silence that was left in your room. A shy smile adorns his face as he plays with the piece of equipment on his finger.

You, however, are not amused, “How did you expect it to go any better, Guk? You are severely allergic to peanuts.”

He sighs, “I meant as far as the embarrassment.”

“Oh, you mean a 20 year old man getting scolded by 40 year old doctors and nurses for eating a peanut butter cup because you were never allowed to have them? Did you think you would just magically not be allergic?” You ask, genuinely interested to hear what his excuse was. In your opinion, there was no excuse. What he did was stupid and wreckless, and you have half a mind to beat the crap out of him for the stunt he pulled. Who did he think he was to scare you like that?

“It can happen…” He shrugs. It was more than obvious that he really didn’t think much of his actions, and that annoyed you more than anything.

“Jeongguk.”

He doesn’t move. He just continues staring at the equipment attached to him as if you weren’t in the room. His childish ignorance was hitting your last nerve at this point. You couldn’t stop yourself from standing up and crossing to his bed.

“Look at me.” You demand. You wait for him to raise his head, giving you a clear view of the frown on his face. You ignore how he looks at you in favor of grabbing onto his face. He had to know you were serious, and he wasn’t going to back out of this. “Don’t you ever do something that could literally kill you in minutes ever again. Do you understand me? I’m not playing with you. You scared the shit out of me!”

“I won’t, I promise.” You hear him loud and clear, you watch him nod and smile in affirmation, but you can’t help but feel helpless. You could’ve stopped him if you’d moved faster, then you could’ve beaten the sense into him before he ended up in the hospital. But here he was, almost 3 hours later with an IV and a drip running into him. The anger that’s been festering all day has finally settled within you, and you feel the tears welling up before you can pull yourself back together.

This of course sets Jeongguk into panic when he sees the glistening of your eyes staring into his own. “Hey! Why are you crying?! Our friendship handbook didn’t mention crying!” He couldn’t handle himself crying, let alone another human being crying at him. In an attempt to soothe you, he places his hands over yours as they rest on his cheeks, rubbing small circles into your skin.

You look away from him, hiding your face before the tears can really start to fall, “It’s in the fine print asshole.” 

“Well, why are you crying if I’m okay?” He asks. You refuse to look at him, not wanting to look at him after all the pain he’s caused you thus far, but he wasn’t about to let you cry without knowing what’s really wrong with you. He releases your hands from his and lets them fall while he moves into a different position, getting close enough to you so he can take your face in between his hands like you’d done to him - granted, yours was a lot more harsh than his. He turns your head so he can look at you, waiting until your eyes finally meet his before he smiles, “Hey, you can tell me what’s wrong.”

You can’t help but let the tears fall with the way he looks at you, “You just looked so beaten up and pale, and your breathing just kept getting worse as we waited, and-” You choke back a sob, “-I don’t want to lose you, okay?”

“You’re not going to lose me.” He coos, stroking your cheeks softly with his thumbs. He’d never intended to hurt you this way. He honestly didn’t think that far ahead. He had an idea, he executed a plan he thought would work, and he got to taste a peanut butter cup while living to see another day. It’s only now that he really thinks about what he’s done today. Neither you or the boys have ever seen him like that before, and to someone who’s never experienced it before, it can be really scary. He sees it now that you’re in front of him crying instead of yelling at him. “I swear on my life that I will never do it again.”

‘He wouldn’t do it again?’ You think. Sure he won’t. You scoff, “Easy for you to say. One wrong move and you die before I get my hands on you.” You move to pull his hands off of your face, but he takes your hands in his instead, pulling you to sit on the bed next to him. You’re too surprised to say anything, letting out a small squeak from the sudden movement instead. The two of you just sit and stare at one another before he finally lifts his right hand from yours to hold his pinky towards you, “I promise.”

Staring at the hand with an IV poking out and a heart monitor attached to his pointer finger, you know in the very back of your mind that this will probably happen again whether he intends to or not. But you don’t think you’ve seen him this serious before. At least for now, you can take his pinky in your own and accept his promise to make both of you feel better. 

“You drive me crazy, you know?” You ask, wiping at some of your remaining tears with your free hand.

“Don’t you mean I drive you nuts?” 

[navegandoaciegas]

the love you deserve III

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader (fem!reader)

Word Count: 2k

Summary: “He’s Bucky Barnes, Captain America’s best friend. He was the guy at the Triskelion, they say he’s the one who killed JFK.”

It can’t be real. Your Jaime visits and plays with lonely, sickly kids in hospitals because he remembers what it was like growing up with his asthmatic, diabetic friend Steve. Whoever this Bucky guy is, he’s not your Jaime, your Jaime could never harm a fly. Your Jaime is good, he’s compassionate. Surely your friend must be wrong.

Warnings: hurt!bucky, hurt!reader, angst, fluff, lying, cheating, drug use, alcohol consumption, language that Steve Rogers wouldn’t approve of.

A/N: AU where Civil War and Thanos never happen, Tony forgives Bucky and he retires. I’m not a native speaker, so forgive me for any mistakes :)

This is part 3, please like and reblog and let me know what you think of it :) feedback is always appreciated! 

Part 1 Part 2

Las Vegas, Nevada

You cheated on James, and that’s a fact. Would you have done it if you weren’t so intoxicated? Is it relevant?

You could take responsibility for your choice. You could admit to yourself and to him that it wasn’t a drug induced mistake, that it was the stupid decision you took in the spur of the moment because you were hurting badly and you wanted to punish him for the pain he put you through.

You could tell him that you got to the club with the intention of doing something stupid, that you put yourself in the condition to sleep with a random guy whose face you can’t recall and who fucked you even if you were gnawing for teeth uncontrollably, your mouth was likely foaming and your pupils were blown to hell.

Did the substances flowing in your veins give him consent, or did you? Are they to blame, or are you?

On another note, the one that comes out when rage surges in you, can you even cheat on a man who isn’t who he says he is? Is it cheating if he betrayed you first?

You’ve never been more conflicted in your life.

The anger you felt is still raging inside of you. You close your eyes and think of all the lies he fed you, of all the little ways he in which he deceived you.  

You don’t know what’s worse: letting the searing hot flames of anger destroy you or wallow in guilt and regret?

In approximately 4 hours you’ll be landing in New York where you know James is going to pick you up, most likely with a bunch of flowers and a box of chocolate.

You could never mention sleeping with a random man after finding out his true identity and continue your life in peaceful, ignorant bliss.

You could confess to cheating and blame it on his deception and your altered state.

You could omit the cheating incident and jump straight to the part where you yell at him for failing to mention who he really is.

You have 2233 miles to figure it out.

New York

You’re being exceptionally quiet today, and that’s a first. 

Bucky was expecting you to start rambling about how hangovers hit you harder than they used to before, how you’re getting old because nowadays you feel your head pounding and your stomach churning all day after a night out. He was willing to bet that the first thing you’d do as soon as you landed would be to complain about Vegas’ blazing heat and the outrageous price of bottled water in airports, like you always do when you come back from travelling.

Instead you’re silent, because you have a headache you said, and you’re being less affectionate than usual.

He furrows his brows when you skip on hugging him and go straight for the car, but he doesn’t let himself think too much about it. You’ve probably just drunk too much, which combined with Nevada’s scorching sun is a recipe for disaster, so he stays quiet and drives you to your apartment. His important announcement is going to have to wait.

His quaint, cramped apartment is tranquil except for the tapping of the rain on the window sills.

He was coming back from a session with his therapist when he got caught in the rain, and because he’d been riding on his Harley he’s now dripping wet and in desperate need to get cleaned up. 

He decides he’s going to take a bubble bath with those little balls of foamy soap you bought him; you’ve told him that these ‘bath bombs’ are very relaxing when you want a ‘self care’ night.

He heads to the bathroom and turns on the water as he takes off his wet sweater and jeans.

He normally avoids staring too much at his reflection, but today he does. 

He has a few scars scattered around his chest and stomach, but they don’t compare to the angry and permanently flared, marred flesh around his left arm. If he looks closely he can still see the marks where he scratched and pulled the the skin in an attempt to rid himself on the prosthetic.

His therapist is a nice man in his 50s who doesn’t ever make him feel judged. He’s been trying to get him to accept his metal arm as a part of himself instead of a disjointed appendage that has done more damage than it could ever do good.

He mentioned something about associating positive things to his arm, or something like that. It can be watering a plant, petting his cat, caressing your hair, holding your hand.

Anything to trick his brain into thinking his arm can do good too. 

Sometimes it works, other times the only thing he can see himself holding is Maria Stark’s throat as he chokes her to death.

He’s been trying hard, but he knows he won’t make his peace with the prosthetic if he doesn’t come clear to you.

He talked about you today. The doctor suggested it’s time for you to know who he is.

He agrees. Steve agrees. Sam has been threatening to call you for months. Natasha doesn’t need to vocalize her threats: one look with those green eyes and she manages to be scarier that the metal chair.

He’s going to tell you before Jade’s wedding, he’s resolved. Can’t risk anyone recognizing him and causing a scene if you don’t hear it from him first.

To be honest, he’s terrified. 

He’s been doing a lot of reflecting since you’ve been gone, and the more time goes by, the more he feels like a lying scumbag.

At first, he was scared he’d lose you because of the Asset. He was scared you’d have a mental breakdown if you knew what kind of monster he is, and you’d leave him. You’re so beautiful, good, smart, you deserve so much better than he could ever be.

In his selfishness he couldn't bear to never hold you again. 

But as time goes on he’s realizing that if he doesn’t speak up soon, he will be losing you because of his deception.

He knows now you would accept him regardless of his past, his crimes, his murders, his nightmares; you already accept all his little quirks, his constant need for reassurance and affection, his unusual ineptitude with technology, his elusiveness.

He knows that what’s left of his life he wants to spend it with you. He doesn’t need a wizard in a sentient cape to know that in all the universes out there, he loves you in every last one of them, that he’d fall off that train a thousand times over if it meant he could one day be with you.

You love him and he loves you, he’s never been more sure of anything.

Anything except how angry you’re going to be when you find out he’s lied to you all along. He can only hope you’ll find it in yourself to forgive him.

Your roommates aren’t home when you get there, and Bucky is glad about it. He needs to have you all to himself for the evening.

“Hey, I’m going to take a shower, you choose the movie, ‘kay?” you say, and you stand on your toes to peck his lips softly. He smiles like the lovesick fool he is and opens up your phone to try and order a pizza for you both.

After multiple attempts at calling the place and using the website with no success, he sets on asking you for help. You’re in the bathroom but the water is not running yet.

The door is ajar, and he almost knocks and comes in when he freezes. The smile he had on his stupid face falls and the pounding in his chest is probably loud enough that you can feel it too, even if you don’t have super soldier hearing. 

Through the crack of the door he can see you’re naked, with your back facing him and your hair pulled up. 

Normally he would blush and close his eyes or turn around to respect your modesty, but now there’s nothing he can do except stare at you with wobbling lips and watering eyes.

Your whole body is littered with love marks, trails of red, angry scratches and deep purple bruises on your lower back, hips and arms.

He wants to think it’s not what it looks like, although it's pretty obvious. He wishes he could unsee what’s in front of him, plain as day: the unmistakable proof that you did what he never thought you would do.

He backs away from the door silently and settles on the couch, calming himself down from the panic attack he feels coming. He’s crying silently, tugging his hair painfully. He doesn’t want you to see him cry. He doesn’t want to look like a pathetic mess in front of you.

His heart hurts so much it’s hard to breathe. 

The water is still running when he finally manages to gain control over himself.

His mind is swimming with questions and accusations. What did you do, exactly, and why did you do it. Why did you feel the need to be intimate with someone else. Is it because he won’t be intimate to you? He’s sure you’re better than that, this can’t be about not being able to resist your urges, can it? Or maybe it is, and it’s his fault for forcing a sexless relationship on you? 

You’re always so honest with him. Sam says it’s a good sign that you always give him your phone for whatever reason he needs it for and you never worry about it, he says it means you have nothing to hide from him. You’ve never shown any sign that your feelings towards him had changed, and he’s been trained to look for the smallest of changes in people. 

Who is he? Did he mean something to you, or was it just some meaningless sex? Were you sober? How much did you drink?

He can’t believe you would cheat on him.

He’s still beating himself up about it when he hears the bathroom door open, and you come out wearing one of his oversized hoodie and a pair of leggings. You smile at him, and he tries to smile back despite the pain when you join him on the couch and snuggle in his arms.

The world is collapsing on him and yet all he can do is hold you close and cradle you in his arms. He nuzzles your hair, inhaling the distinct smell of coconut and peaches to ground him himself.

He can’t lose you.

You had 2233 miles to figure it out.

You didn’t.

You smile when you see him on the couch. You snuggle in his arms and relax in the comforting scent of the detergent he uses, the one that reminds him of his Ma. 

You feel his steady heartbeat and instantly calm down. 

You can’t lose him.

If he thinks you don’t need to know, then he doesn’t either.

[smollestbean-2]

Review: His Thoughts on Therapy

This is not an edit, this is just a constructive criticism on the one-shot. 

So.... I read as far as the therapist stating that their mother had died and I couldn't get through it after that. I scrolled down and near the end I noticed a conversation the characters were having. After going through to see who started it, from there it had no indication who was speaking.

In the beginning Dean was not in character, I understand this is an AU but Dean wouldn’t groan at Sam not to pour out his beer. In all honesty he would most likely be the stern;

“Don’t touch what beer I have left.”  Dean points at his brother and gives him a stern look, as if challenging him to do so while he was gone.

That would have fit his character a lot better than what was given in that sentence. I understand he is annoyed but ‘Groaned’ just doesn’t fit it for me in that sentence or situation.

A question, is this supposed to be an AU if so then are they still hunting the supernatural? If not then why does it say in the first paragraph, “They had experienced a lot, and they both knew that. Sam could see Dean fading, so he laid down the law, and Dean was not cooperating.”

You could have led up to the therapist mentioning her mother’s passing (not gonna mention Dean wanting his therapist to be attractive because even if he’s going against his will why would the first thing Dean thinks about is the therapist being old and unattractive? He could have done that to any nurses or doctors at hospitals)

But; you could have led it up to the therapist walking into the waiting room, calling dean back and apologize for being late to it as so:

Dean walked into the office with his therapist, she sat down with a huff and placed her things on the floor near her feet.

“I apologize for being late, I just received some…..disappointing news.” she apologizes

Now Dean wasn’t one to be the, Touchy-feely type, but he could see the dejected look on her face when she said that. It had reminded him of when he had lost someone close to him.

“What- uhm” he cleared his throat, “What happened...if you don’t mind telling me.” He asked.

She looked up at him, her mouth gaping open in shock. She then seemed to have gathered her bearings and cleared her throat.

“My mother passed away last night.” she replies, her eyes looked misty as she said this and she swallowed as if there was a lump in her throat.

Dean knew that feeling all too well.

Now after the first initial interaction where the therapist informs him of her mother’s death, Dean is somewhat in character when she points out how he hides his feelings.

A therapist is not supposed to judge a client, especially if they want to earn a client’s trust to get them to open up more. So when you say she says ‘wow’ almost judgingly Dean would immediately lock up and she’s just back to square one on getting him to open up again unless this was your point and direction.

When you say that the therapist points him out as the ‘protector’ and ‘preserver’ of the family there is no lead to it other than Dean saving Sam from the fire. She would need to have other points than that in order for her to make that statement and prove that he is in fact the ‘protector’ and ‘preserver’ of the family.

He only went for a few sessions, a few would mean at least 3 or 4 sessions. Did in any of those sessions Dean speak about interactions with his father?

For me the only reason she would point out that Dean blames his father for their mother’s death is based upon any interactions afterwards Dean would have with his father for her to come to that conclusion. Plus the AU again, that goes back to episode one. So does the supernatural exist and they’re hunting them or not?

If so why would Dean see a therapist while out hunting with Sam, it wouldn’t make any sense unless it’s a Therapist that is also aware of the supernatural because if he were to go into any detail about the hunts he would just be thrown right back into the ward again.

Why would Dean cry in the car after leaving the Therapy session? Out of character again? If anything he would end up driving to get a drink. He would mostly cry in a place not in public where no one would see him.

He wouldn’t be at the building anymore after his crying session, he would have been gone with no traces left on his face from the crying session. Dean doesn’t want people to see what he considers his weaknesses. He doesn’t even let Sam see him cry half the time. If anything you could have had the reader see Dean as he’s storming out of the therapist building. Dean would not have stayed in his car for a whole hour at a place he didn’t even want to be in.

The therapist would have asked what it was like growing up after he admitted to losing his mother in the same session, not the next one unless they ran out of time or Dean stormed off.

Also if the therapist lost her mother, wouldn’t she be on leave to arrange for the funeral and attend the funeral?

Okay now we get to where it’s not AU...kinda, but you never stated where Dean worked at and you somewhat insinuated that he worked at the same shop his father did but didn’t clarify that. So how was he there during his father’s death if he didn’t work there? Dean would have not accepted the drawing task as quickly, yeah he used to draw but he’s still in denial about therapy right? He wouldn’t have warmed up to it so quick.

Now Dean is back in character when he sees the reader again, big brother Dean senses kick in so he’s really in character in that section.

Maybe make the time skip clear enough, to me the paragraphs aren’t broken up enough or it doesn’t lead in enough for you to know that time has actually passed.

If there is a therapist reader then is Dean going after the therapist or after the college reader? Even then having two readers would be very confusing wouldn’t it?

Now it leads up to a time skip after the interaction at the superstore with a college reader.

How did she hear that Dean was a mechanic? He never mentioned it to her in the story. Only slightly to his therapist, and even then if his therapist told her the therapist can’t do that because of patient confidentiality and she can lose her job!!!

Now there’s no leading up to the time skip when he finds her? Whose pov is this even in? Is it Deans or Readers? There is no indication towards it. It was Dean the whole time but now it all of a sudden switches to Reader’s Pov??

It would be good to show Dean’s progress through therapy and show him realizing how well it's helping him out. This fic feels very rushed to get to the point, sometimes it’s better to go slow and take your time with the plot. Because when you get to those points the Impact can have a harder blow on your readers.

Conflict drives the story my dude.

Okay so the therapist does know the reader; the therapist shouldn’t be talking about another patient to a different patient. That goes back into patient confidentiality. This includes those who are friends with the patients of the therapist. I know this because my friends shared a therapist for a time and they literally couldn’t mention each other because it would risk the therapist’s job and degree if he were to accidentally mention something to a patient that they didn’t know about from their friend.

Now where does it show why Dean doesn’t want to go to therapy again, why doesn’t he want to go? What changed? Earlier you stated that he had liked going so what changed that?

And then we finally bring up the comic book, wouldn’t she have mentioned it periodically during their sessions as a check in like “how's the comic book going? Have you gotten far in it yet?” those talks would have been interesting.

Then we get to the end where it trickles down into the guessing game of “who's talking”  I understand from the order who is supposed to be talking but in some cases it may confuse people.

All in all I just read the one part and after reading it I’m not sure I want to read the two other parts; mostly because of the continuous plot holes, the too quick pace, contradictions, and the story was just too bland in my taste.

If you’re going to have it in a therapy sense setting, make it realistic. Show progress over time especially if someone doesn’t even want to be there to begin with, you have to show that progress where they learn that it's helping them and that they are showing progress. Don’t include things where it could possibly get the therapist fired or unrealistic views of how therapy works. To younger readers they make impressions on things a lot more than older readers do so they will in the end think that therapists tell everyone that they are seeing them.

It states in the very beginning that it’s a: Dean x reader!platonic Sam x reader!platonic Dean x therapist!Dr. Sky

Nowhere did it say the therapist's name than here. It shows nothing of Dean having any romantic feelings with this therapist. So what’s the point of giving Dean a romantic relationship with this therapist in the first place?? It doesn’t make sense.

This isn’t an AU, it’s a UA which means Universe Altered. That’s where a universe is slightly altered to fit a story. Even then it’s not altered much.

[yourmandevine]

Some stuff that made me happy in 2020, in no particular order

God send you no greater loss. It’s something my grandmother said a lot — a bit of highly Irish Catholic wisdom intended to remind you, warmly but sharply, that whatever you’re currently suffering through isn’t all that bad compared to what lots of other people are dealing with. That it probably isn’t too much to complain about, in the grand scheme of things. That you should, instead, be grateful for what you’ve got, big and small and everything in between.

God sent a great many people a great many unfathomable losses this year, and as hard as it felt at times, our family wasn’t among them; we’re lucky, in the big picture. In the past, people have recommended I try writing those reasons down, to give myself a list of stuff to be thankful for, for the times it’s tough to summon up the gratitude. I figured the end of the year was as good a time as any to make that list, to highlight the stuff that helped me get through this year — the reasons big, small, and in between.

So: here goes.

Peanut butter and jelly

I haven’t counted how many peanut butter and jelly sandwiches I’ve eaten since March 11, which is good, because that would be an absurd thing to do, and a sure sign that I have succumbed to a very specific kind of madness. It’s also good, though, because I would undoubtedly be ashamed by the number; the figure would be titanic, like the unsinkable ship of same name, or the iceberg that sunk it.

Or, at least, I would be ashamed under normal circumstances. This fuckin’ year required whatever flotation device you could find, and you know what I found in the fridge and cupboard? A couple of slices of bread, some strawberry jam, and some goddamn Skippy.

Need a weird mid-morning “brunch” after not having breakfast because you went right from waking up to remote school with the 6-year-old? Crank up a PB&J with that third cup of coffee. Need to pack something in the diaper bag to feed everyone while you’re out at the playground for the afternoon? Stack ‘em up, son. Need a late snack after working the overnight shift filing weird bubble playoff columns? Three letters, one ampersand, one love.

I need to eat better in 2021. But I kind of needed to eat sort of like shit to get through 2020, and time and again, when your man needed it most, PB&J was there.

Sunday night Zoom sessions with college friends

I know that most of us started something like this back in March; I’m not sure how many have stuck with it. I hope the answer is “a lot,” because honestly, knowing that I’m going to end the week by seeing a few friends — some here in Brooklyn but mostly beyond our reach for safety’s sake, some who’ve moved away — has felt like a stabilizing agent on more than a few occasions. It’s important, and no small blessing, to have people in your life who really know you, weird messy ugly bits and all, and in front of whom you can let everything go.

That gallery view’s provided a place to vent, to seethe, to laugh, to cry, and to try to find some semblance of center before heading back into another week. I’m grateful for it, and for the people in those little boxes. Except for the time they reminded me that, when I was 18, I was pretty sure I was a Pacey, and they were all extremely confident I was a Dawson. They were right, but still: a bitter pill to swallow, then and now.

Olivia calling herself “Dr. Bloody”

She took out her little toy doctor kit and just turned into a cackling villain.

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Deeply disconcerting, yes, but also adorable.

All Fantasy Everything

What got me in the door was the conceit: three very funny stand-up comedians (Ian Karmel, David Gborie, Sean Jordan), often with a very funny guest but sometimes without, pick some topic or another and engage in a fantasy draft of their favorite aspects or representations of that topic. (It is, crucially, a serpentine draft. Now what is that? That’s a great question.) Some favorite examples: Mikes; Words That You Think Make You Sound Smart, vols. 1 and 2; Things You Yell After You Dunk on Someone; Fictional Athletes; Crimes We’d Like to Commit. Yeah. It’s that kind of podcast.

What kept me around was the friendship. Listen to an episode and it becomes really clear really quickly just how much the three hosts love each other, how much fun they have being around each other and making one another laugh. The warmth radiates, just pours out of the speakers; in a year where I sorely needed some good vibes, I appreciated my regular check-ins with the Good Vibes Gang to just ... unclench for an hour and a half or so. 

Drinking beer

OK, I’ll admit: This doesn’t sound great for me. It’s true, though. I really like beer. (We brewed one in our kitchen, which I realize is something of a “bearded guy in Brooklyn” cliche, but here we are. It was exciting to complete a project, and it tasted OK-ish.) At some points this year, it didn’t feel like there wasn’t much to look forward to, and sometimes drinking some High Lifes or Narragansett tall boys — with my wife in our living room, with friends on the computer, whatever — helped take the edge off a shitty day/week/month/year. I look forward to being able to do that outside with people again.

The Good Place

I am sure some very smart cultural critics and political thinkers and social revolutionaries have forwarded compelling arguments for why this show is Bad, Actually, because that seems to be more or less true about most things, whether because said thing is Actually Bad or because the economics of the attention economy on the internet functionally necessitate the composition and publication of pretty much every position on pretty much every issue, and especially ones that present a counterargument for why you shouldn’t like the thing you like, and might be kind of a piece of shit for liking it. But I liked this half-hour comedy about the way the universe might be put together, why we should try to take better care of each other, and how doing so might be a pretty great way to take better care of ourselves.

Andrew let me write about it a little bit for a big project we did before the series finale aired, which was really nice of him. I found myself thinking about this part a lot this year:

I also thought a lot about Peeps Chili, but that happens every year.

Taking pictures of my dog

Check out this flumpy goddamn champion:

“Lugar is a good boy” is the main takeaway here. They don’t all have to be complicated.

Schitt’s Creek

I know we’re not alone in this, but we inhaled this show this year. A half-hour comedy about people being laid low, learning how to deal with who they actually are, and finding some grace and community and opportunities for growth kind of hit the spot, I guess.

One of the most wholesale enjoyable ensemble comedy casts I can remember; Catherine O’Hara was already in Cooperstown, but what she made with Moira Rose only polishes her plaque. I’ll never be able to describe with any specificity the thing Chris Elliott does, but I know it has made me laugh since I was a child too young to understand the Letterman bits or see Cabin Boy in the theater, and it’s probably going to make me laugh until I am dead.

I love that people who, for years, never got to see themselves or people like them on screen got to see David Rose on screen and maybe recognize themselves a little bit. The idea that seeing the David/Patrick relationship might make them maybe feel a little more at home, a little safer and more whole, makes me happy. Sad, about the before, but happy, about the now and the what comes next.

Past that, I just love how what was ostensibly a family-and-friends production for a Canadian channel just got absolutely everything right—the tone, the look, the sound, the theme song, the cast, the jokes, my goodness, the jokes—and before long, the rest of the world just got it. Like catching a fastball square on the barrel. Something the show clearly knew a little bit about.

Finding new outdoor places it was safe to go

Necessity is the mother of invention, and the need to give the kids a place to be that wasn’t unnecessarily dangerous but also wasn’t inside our two-bedroom apartment led us to do more exploring than we had before. Shirley Chisholm State Park is great. Canarsie Pier was a fun place to spend a Sunday morning; so’s Canarsie Playground. If we got there early enough or made our peace with some rain, the beaches at Jacob Riis Park and Fort Tilden were pretty rad this summer. I lived in Staten Island from ages 8 through 18, and during breaks throughout college, and don’t think I ever hiked in High Rock Park — that’s dumb, because it was nice!

Even if all those little excursions did was kill a little time and reduce the overall stress level of the four humans stuck in our four walls, that’s not nothing. Some days this year, it was everything.

Cobra Kai

I know I’m late here; I didn’t rush to seek it out because I don’t consider myself a huge fan of The Karate Kid, or at least not a big enough fan to sign up for YouTube’s premium service. I checked it out when it came to Netflix, though, and I honestly can’t believe how much I enjoyed this show. Give me “dumb, but with heart” every day of the week.

I believe in Miguel Diaz; I believe in Johnny Lawrence; I believe I will be firing up Season 3 next month, and perhaps drinking some Coors Banquets in its honor. (I cannot, however, believe how the “get him a body bag” thing came back around, but that’s neither here nor there.)

Closing unread tabs

I’m a serial hoarder of links, and I am bad at finishing all of them. I’ve tried to get into Pocket and Instapaper, but I’ve never been able to turn that sort of workflow — open link, save to third-party service, go back to third-party service later to read, then delete from there — into something that felt instinctual, natural, or habitual. So: lots of tabs. Like, lots of tabs.

This was a dicier proposition than usual in 2020, because cutting my work week in half to be able to more effectively coparent two kids who didn’t have school or day care for most of the year meant less time to read things.

I tried to do my best to keep up with the important stuff for work, and to read at least some stuff about how other parents were dealing with their anxiety/anger/depression/frustration at having to be on 24/7 and work, and to stay abreast of (at least some of) what was happening in the world. Sometimes, though, I would wake up and realize I’d been holding onto blog posts about Really Interesting Rotation Decisions on the 11th-Seeded Team in the East or whatever for literally nine months, and I would go against my nature and just hit the eject button on a 25-deep window, and something amazing would happen: I wouldn’t get fired for being shitty at my job. I would move on with my day, and I would feel about 10 pounds lighter.

I still keep too much stuff open. (As we speak, I’ve got three different Chrome windows open on two different laptops. I choose not to count the total tabs.) But I do so knowing that, if it gets too heavy, I can experience the momentary joy of surrendering to the inevitability that I can’t catch everything. In that moment, I feel OK with my decay.

Reading writers I wasn’t familiar with before

Two in particular stand out in my mind: Nekias Duncan, now of BasketballNews.com, who does excellent film breakdowns and statistical analysis, and Katie Heindl, who writes basketball stuff of all types all over the place, and strings sentences together in a way that scratches an itch inside my brain. I’m grateful I got more chances to read them this year, I look forward to bigger and better things for both of them, and I’m hopeful that, if things calm down and our schedules go back to something approximating normalcy, I’ll have more bandwidth to hunt out more new voices in the year ahead.

The time I ambushed my wife as she was trying to break down and put away the girls’ space tent

Pretty good.

Siobhan learning to ride a bicycle (with training wheels, but still)

The moment passed pretty quickly; Not Exactly A Mechanic over here can’t get the training wheels to reliably work right without either loosening them too much or tightening them so much that she can’t pedal it. In that first moment, though, and for as long as it lasted, it was really great to see her get excited about doing something new, big kid shit, for the first time.

She was proud. I was proud of her. And then we went to a playground for a few hours. Pretty good day.

Tyler Tynes roasting me

Tyler did some incredible work this year — The Cam Chronicles is getting deserved praise as one of 2020′s best podcasts, and his reporting on the Movement for Black Lives was exemplary. It’s hard to top this, though:

You know what the messed up part is? I was excited to tell him what I was doing, just because I knew the reaction would be so violent. Like a body rejecting a transplant. So lucky to have such a dear, dear friend.

PUP

I’m late on everything, so I didn’t start listening to PUP until the spring of 2019, but I haven’t really stopped since. This year has been too sedentary too often; this band is too kinetic to allow me to stay there.

“Bloody Mary Kate and Ashley Kate” is never more than about 20 minutes away from returning to the front of my mind. I would fucking love for it to be safe enough to watch these guys live at some point, and I am absolutely going to take Steve up on his offer.

Someone sending me a shirt based on a joke I tweeted

First:

Then:

Then:

I’m not sure you should be rewarding my behavior, SnoCoPrintShop, but I appreciate it all the same.

Which reminds me:

Family dinner/family movie night

My wife works in Manhattan and commutes back on the train, and we've tried to prioritize getting the girls to bed early since they were little, so that doesn’t leave much of a window between when she gets home and they go in the tub for us all to connect; before everything shut down, we almost never really ate together. We’re still not great about it, but for a while now we’ve carved out Saturday as family dinner night, where we sit down to eat and talk about our “up” from the day — something that happened that made us feel good or happy, or something we’re looking forward to. (We used to talk about our “down,” too, but that kind of seemed like overkill. Why try to focus on more bad shit right now, you know?)

Then we settle in for a movie, with who gets to pick rotating each week. It’s mostly been Pixar, which has been great but also has its drawbacks; after she caught me crying during one of them (maybe the Bing-Bong scene in Inside Out? or Miguel singing to Grandma Coco?), Siobhan straight up told me, “You need to get yourself together, man.” We just watched My Neighbor Totoro, too, which they loved, so we’re probably going to try some more Miyazaki soon. It’s a really simple thing, but it’s one we rarely made time for before, and it’s been really nice to manufacture something positive that we can share and look forward to together.

Sometimes looking like a shiftless drifter

No shade to anyone who felt strongly about getting a lineup or whatever, but I haven’t really felt like going to the barbershop was worth the risk, and I continue to refuse to believe that my wife can actually pull off the fade she’s long wanted to give me. (It is also possible that she just means she’s intending to run my fade, and that I will before long wind up cold-cocked and slumped by my bride of nine years.) So I’ve just kind of been growing out my hair like it was when I was single, and sometimes been letting my beard get kind of out of control too, and, well, I sort of like looking a little bit like a Wildling, it turns out.

I have since trimmed things up a little. It didn’t go over well with my youngest. Oh, well. I’ll try to do better next time.

My wife and daughter singing the Pixies

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We don’t know all the words to too many lullabies, so we sing the ones we do know the words to. This will probably come back to bite us in the years ahead. For now, though: Pretty good.

Doughboys’ Tournament of Chompions: Munch Madness: Mac Attack

I can’t believe how invested I became in Nick Wiger and Mike Mitchell’s quest to determine the best menu item at McDonald’s in a 64-seed tournament that spawned hours and hours of delightfully funny audio featuring all-time home-run guests like Jon Gabrus and Nicole Byer, who gleefully feed into the often warm, sometimes antagonistic, always entertaining chemistry between the two hosts. I have also never found myself wanting to go to McDonald’s more in my entire life. I have hit the drive-thru a couple of times since, and the boys are right: The McDonald’s fountain Coke does just hit different.

Sound Only

I’ve lost track of whether or not a 38-year-old is considered a millennial, but I’m quite confident that I’m not exactly plugged into “the millennial lifestyle” as my teammates Justin Charity and Micah Peters discuss it on their podcast, which relaunched this summer. Doesn’t matter, though, because I love hearing Charity and Micah talk to each other even if I don’t know what they’re talking about.

Their conversation about Dave Chappelle was great. After listening to their Travis Scott episode, I felt like I kind of understood who he is and why he occupies the space he does in pop culture now. I had no idea how they were going to get me to give a shit about set photos from The Batman, but this they not only got me there, but wended their way toward blaming 50 Cent for needing to know who Groot is to have a conversation on the internet, which is something for which Abraham Lincoln did not die. The show is good, it's getting better, it’s fun to hear them talk their shit, and Charity’s regular bellowing of “I, TOO, AM AMERICA” has made me smile for four straight months. 

Siobhan’s letters and notes

She’s in first grade now, and she’s taken to communicating her feelings through the written word. A lot.

I won’t pretend that I loved all of these in the moment. I can only get so upset, though, when she’s already writing with such a clear voice. (And trying to use proper punctuation. (And drawing little cartoons to drive the point home.)

Palm Springs

I’m having a hard time remembering too many specifics about it right now, which probably means it’d be a good thing to rewatch over the holidays. But, as I’m sure many people noted many months before we got around to watching it, a comedy about living the same day over and over again, and about trying to figure out how to make your life mean something when everything seems meaningless, scratched a pretty particular, and particularly important, itch this year. It could’ve been twice as long, and I would’ve eaten up every second of Andy Samberg and Cristin Miloti together.

I’m pretty sure I cried, although this year, that doesn’t necessarily mean much.  Also, put Conner O’Malley in more things.

Joining our union’s bargaining committee

I won’t say too much about this, but I will say that becoming an active participant in the process of a labor union negotiating its first contract with management has been an extremely educational experience. It’s pushed me to have conversations, sometimes difficult ones, about our priorities as a staff and a company. It's helped me get closer with the other past and present members of the BC, and has led me to start developing relationships with members of our staff that I otherwise might not have had much of an opportunity to get to know.

The organizing work takes time, effort, and energy, but trying to do what I can to help take better care of my colleagues has been well worth all of that. Here’s hoping that in 2021 we can reach a deal that helps make our workplace even better, stronger, and more equitable for all of us.

Publishing a story about Stevie Nicks’ Fajita Roundup

I swear this is true: After I accepted my offer to work at The Ringer, but before I started, I told a friend that one thing I was excited about was that you had the chance to work on offbeat stuff here, in both the “kind of weird” and “not about the NBA” senses. That, I thought, might maybe open the door to me getting to write a story about a Saturday Night Live sketch I saw when I was a teenager about Stevie Nicks from Fleetwod Mac running a cheap Tex-Mex restaurant in Sedona, Arizona — a sketch that I wasn’t sure anyone else remembered, but that was stuck in my head forever.

That story ran on May 26.

A lot of people seemed to like it.

Accomplishing this goal was, as dumb as this might sound, a highlight of my year, and, honestly, a highlight of my career. I’d like to do some more stuff like this next year, time permitting; we’ll see. Whether or not I do, I got to do this. I’ll always have that.

[madsdefencesquad]

What's your favorite Madison ep? Unpopular opinion but I loooooved her since the beginning

It sucks that we don’t really have as many eps of her to go by (I mean an episode centred around her because all of her eps are pretty significant). So, instead of picking just one for you, anon (because I, like you, also ADORED her from the very start), I’ll name my top 3 in no particular order.

1. When she takes Kate wedding dress shopping.

Apart from the fact that this is where we really saw Madison as more than just the quirky comic relief character, I cannot even begin to understand the level of love I felt for Madison when she approached Kate and proposed to take her wedding dress shopping.

Mind you, Madison needed to have called the wedding boutique immediately after their ED session to book it exclusively for Kate. She would have had to pull some strings even if she knows/is friends with the person working there. I just cannot fathom the level that Madison will go through for a practical stranger (who, by the way, was teasing/made fun of her mere MOMENTS AGO) to help them forget about their worries and problems and pains even for just a few hours (doesn’t it remind you of someone? * cough Kevin cough *).

This episode showed just how outrageously kind and selfless and absolutely wonderful Madison is for someone who is so broken.

2. Madison with the family during the blind consultant visit.

I literally screamed, “OMG MADSSSS” the moment Kate opened the door and we saw her tiny frame by the door 😂 I didn’t expect her to pop up so early in the season and I was happily surprised.

What I loved about her in this episode was how much she absolutely loves Kate and baby Jack. When Kate asks her to keep it light and positive, she assures her that she will, but her sensitive heart couldn’t take the fact that her best friend’s miracle baby boy won’t be able to properly see for the rest of his life, and so she has a tiny breakdown and cries. But, it doesn’t deter her from laughing at Kate’s joke to alleviate the awkwardness that everyone felt in the room. She remains to be a rock for Kate. And I admire that so so much about her.

3. Madison crying at the OBGYN’s because she couldn’t believe that she’s actually carrying her own babies.

No words. Just lots of tears. Everything about this scene absolutely broke me. I never really thought that her having children will literally be a miracle because of her bulimia, but to see and hear it confirmed destroyed me. I cannot even imagine what Madison is going through. After that pregnancy test (I imagined she took a lot) and that first doctor’s appointment that confirmed her pregnancy, I imagined her going about her days absolutely dazed at the fact that she’s actually carrying her own children. Like, this was her THIRD appointment, and she’s still crying because she absolutely can’t believe it.

The transition from her feeling overwhelmed but eventually smiling at the thought that she’s actually pregnant...it’s surreal. It’s like her mind is still trying to conjure up tricks on her that all of this can’t be real, like she can’t actually be pregnant. But she is, and she’s carrying two of them. 

I was floored. Madison is such a perfectly lovely woman, so broken and alone, but so incredibly resilient with a heart so kind and selfless, and choosing to see the good in people despite of everything.

Bonus: When she tells Kevin that she won’t ask anything from him with the pregnancy

Reiterates point number 3. I’m surprised that Kevin didn’t go to her and give her a hug lol but her asking Kevin that she will not ask him of anything even though they’re his kids too AND the fact that she’s afraid that she has inconvenienced him by being pregnant because that means depriving him of his own love story that he deserves?! TOO MUCH. JUST TOO MUCH.

It sucks that we don’t really have as many eps of her to go by (I mean an episode centred around her because all of her eps are pretty significant). So, instead of picking just one for you, anon (because I, like you, also ADORED her from the very start), I’ll name my top 3 in no particular order.

1. When she takes Kate wedding dress shopping.

Apart from the fact that this is where we really saw Madison as more than just the quirky comic relief character, I cannot even begin to understand the level of love I felt for Madison when she approached Kate and proposed to take her wedding dress shopping.

Mind you, Madison needed to have called the wedding boutique immediately after their ED session to book it exclusively for Kate. She would have had to pull some strings even if she knows/is friends with the person working there. I just cannot fathom the level that Madison will go through for a practical stranger (who, by the way, was teasing/made fun of her mere MOMENTS AGO) to help them forget about their worries and problems and pains even for just a few hours (doesn’t it remind you of someone? * cough Kevin cough *).

This episode showed just how outrageously kind and selfless and absolutely wonderful Madison is for someone who is so broken.

2. Madison with the family during the blind consultant visit.

I literally screamed, “OMG MADSSSS” the moment Kate opened the door and we saw her tiny frame by the door 😂 I didn’t expect her to pop up so early in the season and I was happily surprised.

What I loved about her in this episode was how much she absolutely loves Kate and baby Jack. When Kate asks her to keep it light and positive, she assures her that she will, but her sensitive heart couldn’t take the fact that her best friend’s miracle baby boy won’t be able to properly see for the rest of his life, and so she has a tiny breakdown and cries. But, it doesn’t deter her from laughing at Kate’s joke to alleviate the awkwardness that everyone felt in the room. She remains to be a rock for Kate. And I admire that so so much about her.

3. Madison crying at the OBGYN’s because she couldn’t believe that she’s actually carrying her own babies.

No words. Just lots of tears. Everything about this scene absolutely broke me. I never really thought that her having children will literally be a miracle because of her bulimia, but to see and hear it confirmed destroyed me. I cannot even imagine what Madison is going through. After that pregnancy test (I imagined she took a lot) and that first doctor’s appointment that confirmed her pregnancy, I imagined her going about her days absolutely dazed at the fact that she’s actually carrying her own children. Like, this was her THIRD appointment, and she’s still crying because she absolutely can’t believe it.

The transition from her feeling overwhelmed but eventually smiling at the thought that she’s actually pregnant…it’s surreal. It’s like her mind is still trying to conjure up tricks on her that all of this can’t be real, like she can’t actually be pregnant. But she is, and she’s carrying two of them. 

I was floored. Madison is such a perfectly lovely woman, so broken and alone, but so incredibly resilient with a heart so kind and selfless, and choosing to see the good in people despite of everything.

Bonus: When she tells Kevin that she won’t ask anything from him with the pregnancy

Reiterates point number 3. I’m surprised that Kevin didn’t go to her and give her a hug lol but her asking Kevin that she will not ask him of anything even though they’re his kids too AND the fact that she’s afraid that she has inconvenienced him by being pregnant because that means depriving him of his own love story that he deserves?! TOO MUCH. JUST TOO MUCH.

[judgement-free-sideblog]

Dancing lessons

Barry Berkman x reader

Summary: Barry is finally cast in a feature, the problem? He said he could dance and now he can either disappoint Sally or found a way to learn some steps.

Warnings: Swearing, blood, violence, guns, cheating, drinking.

Part 1 ● Part 2 ● Part 3 ● Part 4 ● Part 5 ● Part 6 ● Part 7 ● Part 8 ● Epilogue

Part 6

The rumor of sheets moving and the muffled steps on the carpet didn't wake you up, the clock in your nightstand said 02:00 pm and you have been sleeping for about half an hour after your spontaneous marital responsibilities, and you were still tired for the sleepless night; it was the sudden loneliness in the bed that felt wrong enough to make you incorporate in the bed.

"I thought the main purpose of getting married was that the guy will no longer leave in a hurry barely putting on his clothes" you told him and he gave you an strange look that made you feel uncomfortable with your nudity and search for a robe to cover yourself.

"I'm sorry honey, there is already trouble with the merge of the new company" He said putting on his pants and searching for a clean shirt on the closet "I had to head for the office, but I'll be home by 9, and we can have dinner"

"I can cook if you want" you said approaching him and helping him with his tie "Your favorite maybe?" You gave him a sad smile knowing too well what by 9 meant.

"Oh no, you should rest, we can go out or order something" There it was, like always an empty promise to hide the fact that he would stay until 10 or 11 pm at the office, and avoiding trouble at home by not making you put on any effort.

"Sure, there is new place a couple blocks from here I want to try" You said now following the lie "Is an Italian place L'angolo delle delizie maybe you could make reservations" You followed him out of the room and gave him the suitcase he left on the ground.

"Sounds great" He said putting on his jacket, he smiled the way both of you knew it meant we are not doing that "Italian sounds great, specially since you eat a lot of Chinese last night" He add completely innocently, but it light all the alarms in your head and protectively grab your phone, even when he was not looking at it.

"I was just hungry" You lied and he gave you a kiss on the cheek before walking away, the steps down the stairs became distant and one final door closed downstairs and then silence.

And like a stupid little child you started to cry holding yourself, until your legs won't hold you anymore and you feel into the floor, tired and angry at yourself, still holding the phone, you opened to see a text from Barry, one hour after the one you sent.

Sorry, I was filming. Doctor said you can't drink, but I'll bring the money. Meet you at 5.

The fact that he was still concerned about your well being made you smile, and then you were angry for smiling so you throw the phone against the wall and screamed in pain.

It was wrong, you felt guilty without doing anything, and the reason was now completely clear, you wanted to, you wanted for him to make a move on you, since you were too much of a coward to do it yourself.

But he wouldn't, he had a beautiful girlfriend, you saw her face popping up in random tv shows and commercials now an then, and you knew the mere reason you have met was to make her happy. He loved his Sally, with a devotion that was longer lost from you and Alan.

You stand up and picked the phone, then you look at your wedding picture, Juntos para toda la vida Together for life, a nice thing Alan Spanish grandma said on your wedding day, and now it felt more like a sentence.

You repressed the urge to cry again and instead change your clothes for something you could dance with. At least exhausted and covered in sweat you could silence your conscience.

After three hours of miserably following the rythm and two close calls to hit the floor again you lie on the floor completely tired. But maybe a little more peaceful, then Macy's figure came inside and blocked the light before giving you a hand to stan up.

"The four year olds keep giving you a hard time?" She asked once you were on your feet.

"No, I actually cancel class today, I forgot to tell you" You said and pointed at your head "I suffered a minor accident last night"

"And why are you doing this then?" She pointed at your clothes and then the record player "The last time you did that was because you were stressed out about your grandma having her hysterectomy"

You let go a tired sigh and not quite sure why start telling her the whole story, about how things were bad with Alan, about the feelings you had for Barry about how you weren't sure if you were doing something wrong, and she sit there with you listen patiently, maybe because at some point you have done the same for her or maybe just to be a decent human being.

"Berkman huh?" She said finally and then smiled at you "I mean I get it, he can't dance to save his life but he is kinda cute. Remember that rich guy who always sent you flowers after class even when he saw Alan coming home every day? He was hot, you should have chosen him" She said and both of you laughed, somehow talking about it that naturally and without judgment does made you feel better.

"Yeah, I remember, but I was too busy with Alan being promoted and the business here growing I didn't have time to that kind of stuff" you said and she gave you a serious look.

"I don't think you have time now either, but that was 3 year ago and you were deeply in love with him, so no other men seem important, he was as forgetful and workaholic as he is now, you just didn't care, and now Barry Berkman is just a clumsy student who is being polite as midwesterners are" She said, and you appreciate her being direct, but it felt wrong to face the facts like that "And you act like he has shaken your marriage like an earthquake, but the truth is that he hasn't. You have to ask yourself, do you like him or do you simply don't love your husband anymore?"

"I love Alan" You said almost too quickly "But I know what you mean, and you are right maybe Barry is just and excuse to project the little stability my husband and I have, but what can I do?" You ask her and she pointed at the door.

"Thinking quickly because the devil is calling" She said since he was opening the door with a lost look on his eyes and holding another board game under his arm.

***

Y/N I have something to tell you Barry keep rehearsing how to bring up the sensitive information, and yet he was dying to avoid the conversation with her.

"Hey there!" Macy and give her the perfect excuse to not say anything, at least not at the moment.

It all started with Sally's invitation to eat after he finished filming for the day, he pretended Y/N text didn't exist to avoid thinking about her, but he finally give in and spend the rest of the session smiling like a child, thinking about how much he was waiting for 5:00 to meet her again, he even went to a toy store to bought a The office Clue special edition since she had said she love that show, obviously just as a get well present, he said to himself.

He drove to the restaurant, and inside there were already Sally and her friend Monique from the movie she was filming, and he asume her boyfriend, a handsome man in a suit and he looked vaguely familiar but he couldn't place from where.

"Babe you made it!" Sally said happy and gave him a quick kiss making room in the booth for him to sit. "We were about to order without you." She said and then pointed at her friend, "You remember Monique, and this is her boyfriend Alan, he is a commercial lawyer, and works for a big company" She said and the man extended his hand with a incredibly white smile.

And he could see briefly see a discolored line where a wedding band should be, and he remembered that same smile in a wedding picture he had been seeing with guilt that morning.

"Boyfriend? So you are not married?" He said without thinking and the man laughed nervously

"Barry!" Sally said and gave him a playfully look meaning shut up.

"Oh I'm sorry, but you have been talking so much about Monique and how great she is I assume she was already taken" He lied, but the woman felt delighted.

"Oh is too soon to talk about that, we have been dating for, how much sweety? A year? More or less?" She said and Barry smiled trying to pretend he was not hearing any of that.

"Yeah, like a year" He said politely "We should order, I'm starving"

"Oh yeah, honey, he was telling us how he just came back from Dallas, making a big merge with an oil company" Sally said completely unaware of how Barry's fists were clenched on his lap wanting to blow up the smile from that man's face.

The worst part was that he was charming and polite, and a total gentleman with the woman, making the idea of Y/N alone at home waiting for him the more infuriating, after the meal he and Monique left together so Barry had to drive Sally home.

"They were nice right?" She said once they were on the road "I mean she is amazing but they together are really nice people"

"Well..." He started not sure of what he should said "He is fine for her, I mean he was a bit pretentious"

"I mean yeah, but you know he is a very busy and important guy, anyway how was your day? When are you going to let me go with you to one of your classes?" She asked genuinely interested.

"Oh you don't really want to go, I'm still not ready, but it was a good day at the studio, we are almost done" He said and then unable to still silent he ask "Hey if you knew that someone is cheating someone close to you, would you tell them? Or would you prefer to never know?"

"OMG who is cheating?" She asked opening her eyes widely "Jermaine is cheating on Natalie? I knew they wouldn't last" She said putting both of her hands on her face "She is going to be crushed"

"What? No!! I mean I don't know, last time they were fine, is more like an hypothetical question" He said now concerned that maybe Jermaine was in fact cheating on Natalie.

"I don't know, I mean if this person doesn't tell me may be to protect me" She started, after a long pause "But if they are my friends and they didn't tell me I would feel betrayed for them letting me be a fool for so long while someone is making fun of me, on the other hand what if it's a just one time thing and we are having a happy relationship and this only ruined it? I would blame my friends, but how could we be happy if the guy is cheating?? No definitely I would rather know" She said and then gave him a concerned look at Barry "are you sure you are okay?"

"Yeah, totally fine, hey do you wanna go to the movies? I can skip class today" He said with a tight knot on his throat finding a way to avoid Y/N.

"Oh I will love to , but I have a lot of lines to read and prepare for tomorrow" She said and he simply drove her home to later return at the dance studio. Thinking about how will he deliver such terrible news to her friend and that they might not be friends at all after he did.

"Is that The Office special edition of clue?" She asked excited once he was close, getting him out of his thoughts

"Yeah, it is" Barry responded giving her the box "How is your head?"

"Better, I'm just concerned about the hair, are you ready to loose some money?" She smile at him, and he returned the smile, both ignoring Macy rolling her eyes.

"I wanna play too" She said "The more the merrier right? Let's go I wanna take your money"

Things work out better than he expected since Macy's presence was distracting enough so he forgot what he was supposed to tell her, but after a couple hours and a few beers she left, leaving the two of them in an awkward silence.

"How was your day?" She break the silence first picking up the games while he help her clean te table.

"It was fun, after I left I had to make a few errands" He lied "And I was late to shooting, so Andre scream at me, is weird since he is about 1 foot shorter than me, but the movie is going great"

"Maybe he feels threatened by a handsome actor who can dance, and what was the other thing? Speak fluent Italian?" She laughed and he had to stop his mind to fantasize about how this was the perfect domestic life he wanted with her.

"And French" he smirked "I should've put Russian, you could have taught me that two" He said and the smile she gave him completely trusting remind him that he had something else to say. But then a ring went off in the other room and she run to answer.

"No it's okay, yeah I get it, say hi to Tom and Claudia for me ok? We can celebrate tomorrow" She said on the phone and then she hung up violently.

"Everything okay?" He said approaching cautiously.

"Yeah, Alan is working late, and he is going to spend the night with a partner of his firm, apparently they have some issues that were not completely solved in Dallas" She said looking at the floor.

"So he is already in LA?" Barry asked and his curiosity took her by surprise.

"Yeah, he came back in the morning, but he had to leave in a rush in the afternoon" She said and then look at the clock "You know what? Let's go out, let's get drunk, I haven't left the house since last night and honestly I'm perfectly fine"

And before he could argue with her she was already in her room changing to a pair of jeans and a bright blouse, while he keep thinking about the right way to tell her, but apparently that would have to wait, since at the moment she was concerned in putting the most possible amount of alcohol in her system.

"You shouldn't do this" He tried to convince her one last time without success.

"Come on, there is a bar around the corner, I can come back home walking, you either come with me or I'll go alone, what do you say?" She had an special talent to make him say yes and he could only follow her.

"Fine, but just a couple drinks ok?" He said finally walking behind her.

"You wanna do shots?" She said after she have drink three glasses of wine while he was still on the first one.

"Not really" he said.

"Hey gorgeous, 4 shots of my friend Jose" She call the bartender who gave him a judging look at him before serving them. "Ok, let's do this" She said and he look down at the shot glass "No, no, you have to look at me or it doesn't count" she said taking his face on her hand, and that spontaneous touch and intimate look that she gave him was enough for him to loose his mind and drink the burning and delicious liquid without any hesitation.

Two became four and by the sixth round the bartender simply let the bottle and they were more than happy to finish it. He no longer care about what he knew about his moron rich husband, all he care was that she wanted to dance and now he finally feel like he knew how.

They walk together, back to the studio, not caring to walk straight, and with no respect for personal space since they were holding on each other shamelessly.

Once inside she put his rehearsing piece on the record player and before she finish taking of her shoes he took her by the waist, more personal and closer than ever, they move roughly at first but after a few minutes he was following the music perfectly l, with his eyes never leaving hers.

"Well that's the secret" she said once the song was about to end "We should get you drunk before your big scene" The son ended but he did let go of her nor she set his hand free.

"I think is more about the partner" He said pressing her more to his chest.

"Well sadly they want young and beautiful actresses, even they have terrible technique" she said quietly.

"You are young and beautiful" he lowered his face to be a few inches from her mouth.

"I'm also married Barry" She answered, without any will to walk away and move herself closer to him.

"I don't care"

.

Tag list:

@l0ve-0f-my-life

[anxiouslymalicious]

Beat You To It

Pairing: Ben Hardy x (fem) Reader

Summary: Periods are usually full of ups and downs, a bumpy ride, especially emotionally. This time, however, your emotions are all over the place as you just started taking the pill. But nothing could prepare you for the emotional roller coaster ride that ensues, especially as Ben comes home earlier from filming abroad.

Word Count: 2631 (oops?)

Warnings: none I think? Unless you count bad writing and talks about periods as one?

A/N: This is my first time writing something and actually publishing it. I hope you enjoy it!

It was a quiet Saturday night. You and Frankie were alone in the flat you and Ben moved into almost a year ago and although Frankie was a sweet pup, you still felt terribly lonely. The reason was simple.

Hormones. Birth control pills, to be exact.

The two of you had been talking about you going on birth control one quiet night when you were cuddled up on the sofa, a trashy tv show playing on the tv. You had been having troubles with your period for quite some time now and your doctor suggested using birth control to get it back on track. It wasn’t serious so you didn’t think about it too much. Ben then joked that he would be able to find out what sex without a condom feels like, but it might have been the light buzz of the wine you had opened during dinner. Neither of you mentioned it again, but the thought never left your mind. So, as soon as Ben told you when he would be leaving for filming, you made an appointment with your gyn and asked for a prescription of the pill, which you had promptly received.

Now, it was about 3 weeks later and you were on your first period while being on the pill and it was… Something.

Obviously, you and your doctor talked about the side effects of the pill and she told you about what to expect during the first three months, but you did not expect for the side effects to hit you nearly as hard as they did.

Besides light nausea shortly after taking the pill the first few days, you thought that the little hormone pills were treating you good. Until your first period arrived.

One advantage of taking birth control pills was that your cramps would be less intense and your periods in general would be easier on you. Or at least that’s what everyone told you. What they forgot to mention, though, was that the first period on the pill might not be that easy on you.

And so, you were drowning in self-pity.

Your period had started a day late, it was a Friday morning and you awoke with pain in your abdomen. Groaning, you turned around, trying to reach for Ben, but your hand only managed to find Frankie, curled up into a tiny ball of fur, laying on Ben’s side of the bed. A sigh escaped your lips as you remembered that he was still filming and only supposed to come back next week. No matter how often he left, your mind never ceased to forget that he wasn’t there when you woke up.

Tears welled up in your eyes. How badly you needed him at this moment to just hold you. Maybe make you breakfast in bed. And give you back rubs. And treat you like a queen. Just for today.

Nonetheless, you pushed through the day. Although your emotions were all over the place (you had yelled at three people, cried as you found out that you ran out of your favourite cereal, laughed your arse off at Frankie trying to catch her own tail and all of that even before leaving for work), the cramps were intense and your head felt as though a truck ran over it, you got through the whole work day. You couldn’t have been happier when you came home, greeted by Frankie’s happy barking and the warmth of your flat.

The rest of your day, you had spent on the couch in the living room, eating pizza, watching whatever was on tv whenever your pain killers didn’t knock you out and Ben even called sometime during the evening.

Ben always called you when he was gone. It was only on very rare occasions that he didn’t manage to call you and talk with you sometime during the day and even on those days, he recorded a voice message before passing out on his bed and making up for the missed call as soon as possible.

Your phone calls with Ben were almost therapeutic. Both of you managed to talk about anything that was bothering you. Whether it was your annoying colleagues, a scene that worried him, or just talking about the dreams you two had and trying to make up the funniest meanings. One time, you two managed to talk about how your dream about stargazing meant that you possessed the ability to live in space and were actually born as a product of a star dying, but you couldn’t go back because you needed the doctor to help you and so you needed to wait for him and his Tardis to appear.

This time, it was just him being overly excited about how well everything was going and how awesome everyone on set was. You really wanted to tell him how bad you felt, but that would also ruin the surprise of telling him that you guys wouldn’t need a condom the next time you two were in the heat of the moment.

And now, it was Saturday night. You had barely moved from your seat on the couch unless you really had to, like when you had to go on a walk with Frankie, go to the bathroom yourself or get open the door for the delivery person bringing yet another order of yours. Last night, you had seen a tv trailer for Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince and you couldn’t stop a few stray tears from falling as you stared into Dumbledore’s sickly pale face. You already knew back then that you would regret watching that movie. But you did it anyway.

You couldn’t stop the tears from falling, not even if you tried, as you watched the heart-breaking scenes take place.

As you were so busy wailing like a baby, wrapped up in your favourite blanket with an empty cup of tea on the coffee table and empty take out boxes and chocolate wrappers splayed out all over the coffee table, you did not notice Frankie jumping up with curiosity at something she heard.

You also didn’t hear the jingling of the keys in the lock of your flat.

Or the sound of a bag dropping in the living room.

Not even the sound of an incredibly deep laughter managed to pull you out of your trance.

You flinched as you felt a hand on your shoulder, the sudden touch scaring you, and a shrill scream escaped your lips. In a moment of fear, your body involuntarily tried to move to the other end of the couch, your abdomen cramping up at the unexpected movement. You whimpered softly at the pain, wrapping your arms around yourself in an effort to ease the pain at least a bit.

“Hey, princess, it’s me, calm down.”, Ben almost laughed at your reaction. Until he noticed your dishevelled appearance.

Your hair was all over the place, your eyes bloodshot from the little amount of sleep you caught the previous night and the many crying sessions you had over the past 48 hours. Your cheeks were puffy and flushed and tear streaks stained your skin. Chocolate was smeared in the corner of your lips.

You were wearing one of Ben’s old sweatshirts which he should have gotten rid off ages ago, but you always saved it from its doom in the trash by saying that it was far too comfortable to throw it away.

Pants had long been abandoned, or at least Ben assumed so as he saw one of your bare legs sticking out from under the blanket that he knew you only pulled out if you were in need of comfort.

“Y/N, what happened? Are you okay?”, Ben was now worried. He had never seen you like this before. He was now kneeling on the floor in front of the couch, grasping your hands. This only caused more tears to fall. You had officially ruined the surprise. Ben wasn’t supposed to be home yet. He was scheduled to come next week, when your period was over and you were feeling great.

But there he was, seated in front of you, his green eyes staring right into your own (y/e/c) orbs, trying to put together the pieces, but failing.

Frankie had now joined you, laying her head comfortingly in your lap, almost like she was trying to encourage you to tell him what was going on. And you tried.

But all you managed to get out was a weird brabbled speech.

“He-he- Dumbledore, he died and I cried, but you weren’t supposed to find out until Thursday, when you came back and you were not supposed to be here yet. But now he died and you’re here but you shouldn’t be. And Frankie was supposed to help and- and I didn’t want to watch it, but it just kind of happened because I cannot resist Harry Potter and you know that.”, you didn’t make sense. Not to Ben, not to yourself.

“Y/N, are you drunk, love?” Ben was now trying not to burst out laughing, gently placing his hands on your cheeks and wiping the fresh tears away from your cheeks.

“No, I’m not, I haven’t had a sip of alcohol in months! Oh wait, that’s a lie. I’m lying to you and myself. It was just last week. I’m not an alcoholic, though, I swear.”, you sobbed, defending yourself.

“Then what’s going on, love?” soft giggles emerged from Ben’s lips as he watched you. He really didn’t want to, but watching you was more than just hilarious.

You took a deep breath and closed your eyes for a moment. A new wave of tears welled up in your eyes as you looked at him.

“I started taking birth control pills, but didn’t tell you because I wanted to surprise you. And now I’m on my period and you’re home early and ruined the surprise. I had it all planned out! Wanted to cook for you, wear something sexy, seduce you and tell you that you wouldn’t need a condom, but now you’re here and caught me crying over a movie I have seen a few hundred times already.” You were watching Ben’s face closely, awaiting some kind of negative reaction.

“Oh, love, really? You put yourself through all this stress for me?”, Ben was amazed. You nodded silently, afraid that if you opened your mouth, you would only keep on sobbing.

Ben now moved onto the couch, pulling you into him and wrapping his arms tightly around you.

“I love you, Y/N. I really do. Thank you so much.”, whispered Ben as he ran his hand through your hair, trying to calm you. Nothing but love and adoration were in his voice, and the moment would have been perfect, if it wasn’t for Frankie suddenly barking. Neither of you had noticed that you were almost crushing the little dog in between your bodies as you hugged and were now feeling unbelievably sorry.

“Tell you what, love. I’ll clean up a bit while you move to the bedroom and then we’ll cuddle and I’ll rub your belly. How does that sound?”, asked Ben, softly kissing your temple as he wiped away the last stray tears on your cheeks.

“Sounds perfect. Marry me please?”, you asked, only half joking. Ben chuckled as he got up and placed a kiss onto your lips, then wiped at the corner to wipe away the chocolate that was still smeared there. A light giggle left your lips as you watched your beloved boyfriend disappear in the hallway, probably to grab a bin or something to get rid off the trash. You followed him shortly after, your blanket wrapped around you, walking on shaky legs into the bedroom and dropping your tired body on the bed.

Just as you were about to doze off, you heard the sound of Frankie’s paws hitting the floor before she tried to jump onto the bed. A soft smile grew on your lips as you moved to look at her, gently petting her.

“Thank you so much for sneaking into my flat a few years back, you little rascal. Without you I may have never met your hooman and we wouldn’t be right here right now. My life wouldn’t be the same without you two.”, you whispered lovingly to her.

“Our lives wouldn’t be the same without you either, Y/N.”, mumbled Ben from the doorway of the room. He had a glass of water in one hand, a heating pad in the other. He gave you a soft smile, that one special smile that only you got to see. It was so soft, barely noticeable at times, yet so full of love and adoration. You couldn’t help but fall in love with him a little more whenever he smiled that special smile.

He set the glass on the nightstand, then opened his fist to drop a pain killer next to it. “Just in case you need one. Don’t feel like getting up again.”, Ben explained in a mumble. You nodded.

He then changed into his pyjamas before he lay next to you, moving as close as possible. Grabbing the heating pad, he turned it on and gently placed it on your tummy as you lay with your head on his chest. His heartbeat was calming to you. You knew that he was alright and safe, right there next to you.

“Hey, love?” Ben’s voice was soft.

“Yes, love?”, you asked in reply, looking up at him. You hadn’t felt this content in a while, not since Ben left for filming, and you didn’t want for that moment to end. Ben was grinning at you now, like he knew something that you didn’t.

“I never answered your question.”

“What question?” You were confused.

“The one about marrying you.”

“Oh.” Your heart skipped a beat in fear. Was that too much? Could you blame it on the hormones?

Ben’s hand was in a fist, only using two fingers to lift your hand lightly as his other hand was running through your hair.

“Guess you kind of beat me to the question. But I beat you to the ring.”, he whispered, looking at you intently as his hand opened and laid the ring in your hand. You looked at him like you couldn’t believe what was happening. By all means, you couldn’t.

“Well, what do you say, love?”, you asked as yet another wave of tears welled up in your eyes.

“I say ‘let’s put a ring on it’.”, he grinned, carefully slipping the simple gold band onto your ring finger. Neither of you could stop yourself from smiling as you moved to press a lingering kiss to his lips, your fingers finding his cheek and gently tracing it.

“I love you with all my heart, Ben.”, you whispered as you parted from the kiss.

“I love you with all my soul, Y/N.”, he whispered back.

“Today was such an emotional roller coaster ride. Let’s go to sleep and celebrate tomorrow.”, you whispered, pressing another kiss to his cheek. With a sigh, you got up to go to the bathroom one last time before going to bed.

Needless to say, that your phone was blowing up with messages from Joe when you came back.

‘Y/N Y/L/N, how DARE you steal MY MAN?!’

‘Cardy B and I are very disappointed.’

‘And you didn’t even ask for our blessing!’

“Sorry, princess. I couldn’t help myself and just had to tell someone.”, Ben grinned at you like a four-year-old who had just stolen some sweets. You playfully rolled your eyes at him, moved to lie down on the bed and plugged in your phone before typing one single message to Joe.

‘Guess I beat you to it.’

 A/N2: This was based on my actual experience as I was put on the pill for troubles with my period, except I am as single as I could possibly be and was sending my friends some of the things you can read here as hilarious voice messages. They had the time of their lives, I think?