#But that’s more work than I have time and energy for right now

[alarajrogers]

If you want to make your whole identity about the shortage of serotonin in your neurological system, well, that's an interesting choice. But if not... depression is a malfunction that blocks your brain from doing what it is supposed to do, what your identity and self would otherwise dictate that it do. Medication doesn't change you, who you are, unless you identify as a person who can't do any of the things you want to do because you can't really want them, you don't have the energy to do them, or they don't make you happy the way they should.

Here is a vastly oversimplified description of one of our current theories of how depression works. There's some evidence that maybe this isn't quite how it goes, but we've been operating on this paradigm since the 90's and it's helped millions of people, so lets go with it for now.

There are three neurotransmitters that most antidepressants work on. You've got many others, but these are the ones they make most depression medication to affect, so we';ll talk about them. Vastly oversimplified: dopamine regulates desire and motivation, norepinephrine regulates energy flow, and serotonin regulates happiness, satisfaction, contentment... probably involved in other moods as well, but for this model, we're talking about happiness. (Not pleasure. That's dopamine and endorphins and oxytocin and I think maybe vasopressin. Just happiness.)

Let's say you're a normal person, no mood disorders, no dysregulation disorders, you don't have ADHD, you don't have fatigue, everything works great. You're not hungry and you're not tired, and you see something you want, or that you want to do. So here's what happens.

First, neurons recognize that that's something you want, based on the gestalt of all your memories and experiences and genetics -- who you are. This is a kind of wanting, but it's more like a precursor to the want most of us feel most of the time that we want things. It's more of a "hey, wouldn't it be nice if" feeling than a full desire. That comes next, though honestly, this is all happening too fast for you to perceive the stages.

Your neurons that recognize you want something release dopamine. Dopamine is the substrate of want. It is willpower and motivation. It's also cravings when levels get too high.

Now you feel the want. It's not a "hey, it would be cool if..." It's "I want that." It sounds like fun. Or it sounds like it would make you happy. You feel this desire. Maybe you see a basketball hoop and you really wanna shoot hoops. Maybe it's a video game icon and you really wanna play that game. Maybe it's triggered by a fleeting memory of riding a roller coaster and you really want to go to an amusement park. Maybe it's something that will objectively make your life better, like, you really want a clean kitchen. You don't want to clean the kitchen but you want the end result very badly.

Next, or maybe at the same time, your brain releases norepinephrine. Norepi controls energy flow -- where the energy resources of your body are going -- and in this case, it's directing energy to your brain and muscles so that you have the energy to do the thing. Remember, in this model, you're well-fed and well-rested and not sick, so there's no good reason for you not to have this energy.

So you have the energy, you do the thing... and you get the reward. Serotonin makes you feel happy and content. You did the thing, it felt good. Maybe a little dopamine to make you want to do it again, but right now, you are satisfied.

Now, I want you to imagine a comedy sketch where a guy is really hungry at a formal dinner where he's waiting for the food. And the servers lay a plate in front of him, and it's great, he's about to eat, it looks good, he's starving... and then the bussers take his plate away and throw it out before he has a chance to eat it.

Funny, in a comedy sketch. Absolutely devastating, if it happens in your brain.

Because there's a mechanism in your brain called reuptake, and it removes neurotransmitters you're done using. And if you didn't make enough of those neurotransmitters in the first place, or if reuptake is malfunctioning and triggering too early, then the busser is coming by and taking away your serotonin or your dopamine before you were done with it, and now you don't have any.

So you see the thing you want. But no dopamine releases to make you feel the want, so you are unmotivated to do it. Or, you have motivation, but you don't have enough norepi to have the energy to do it. Or, you had motivation and energy so you did it... but it didn't make you happy. There's no serotonin. Nothing will make you happy.

Reuptake inhibitors -- most of them working on serotonin, so they are SSRIs, selective serotonin reuptake inhibitors, but my medication in particular is a DNRI, a dopamine and norepinephrine reuptake inhibitor, and there are other combos as well -- prevent the busser from taking your meal before you're done eating it. They ensure that there is sufficient available neurotransmitter for whatever emotion your brain is trying to trigger.

Let me repeat: your brain, full of your experiences and your genes and your memories, is trying to trigger an emotion based on all those things. The gestalt of you, the identity that you are, should be feeling an emotion. That emotion is caused by a neurotransmitter that the you of you is trying to summon. And if it's not there... you will not feel the emotion that your brain has decided you feel. This is interference with the operation of you. This is the process of you being cut off before it can run to natural completion. This is your emotion, based on who you are, being squashed because the chemicals that make you feel the emotion aren't there.

An SSRI cannot make you happy, but it can make it possible for you to be happy if your brain thinks you should be happy. A DNRI cannot make you want something, but it can make it possible for you to feel motivation and energy to do the thing you wanted to do. These medications do not change who you are. They cannot. They don't give you artifical serotonin or dopamine. To the best of my knowledge, this isn't biologically possible yet without sticking electrodes in your brain. That's science fiction. What they do is make sure that the available pool of neurotransmitters your brain draws from to make you feel the emotions that your brain thinks you should feel contain enough neurotransmitters to actually do the job.

The idea that antidepressants change who you are in any way whatsoever is absolute bullshit and needs to die in a fire. Antidepressants work to prevent a brain malfunction that causes interference with the emotions you should be feeling, based on who you are.

They can indeed have side effects. Paxil is known to cause sexual problems, and in teenagers has sometimes triggered the strength and motivation to carry out a suicide plan before it has improved mood enough to remove the desire to die. Prozac made me "anti-depressed"; it made me flat, no strong emotions at all. But there are many, many such medications. My depression manifested more as fatigue and lack of motivation, with the unhappiness coming from the feeling that I can't make myself do anything I want to do, so they gave me a DNRI and I've been on it for 22 years. The first week I took it, it made me a little high, full of energy and driven and needing less sleep, like a stimulant, but that wore off pretty fast and left me closer to normal than I'd been in the four years previous. Other people I know have had good luck with Zoloft or Cymbalta. They all operate in slightly different ways and affect different brain systems variably. Odds are, if you are depressed, one of them will work for you. And it won't change who you are. It will make it possible for you to be more like who you are than you can be with unmedicated depression.

(They are not perfect. I fight with the black dog a lot. They also don't block depressive, negative feelings when the trigger is real and very strong. I was just out of work for six months and over that time period spent most of my time playing video games and surfing Tumblr as my anxiety about my lack of money grew and my lack of energy or motivation deepened. I struggled to look for work as it got worse, which made me even more anxious because I knew, logically, if I didn't find work things would get even worse, but it started to feel so pointless and I felt helpless. So I didn't write, I didn't clean my house, I did look for work but maybe I could have looked harder, I didn't train my skills as much as I wanted... and now I have a job and my energy and motivation are back. If your situation warrants feelings of depression, no prescription can save you. Antidepressant medication is about allowing you to feel what you should be feeling. If what you should be feeling, rationally, is anxiety and unhappiness, they aren't gonna change that.)

90s movies: Psychopharmacology is as good as a lobotomy. If you take pills to treat your mental illness it will literally murder your imaginary friends and you will become a boring, lotus-eating conformist drone.

Me after taking my meds: drives the scenic route home to see if there are any geese on the pond and does a little dance in line at the grocery store and comes home to throw everything​ in my fridge into a stew pot because I can finally taste food again while singing songs at my birds in which I replace all the instances of "she" with "Cheese" and doing a Dolly Parton impression on the phone to my sister

[marvelwitchergilmore]

Something More

Summary: Bucky Barnes x fe!Reader -> Since you met Bucky, he's always looked at you with...something more. And you never knew why. One day, you finally find out what he means by it.

Disclaimer: mentions of cheating and swearing, revenge on cheating ex. Bucky deals with said cheating ex. Descriptions of naked/slightly naked Bucky though nothing too explicit. Fluff, found family vibes, Sam and Bucky bickering. Use of nicknames (specifically 'doll'). Not Proof Read.

“What are you still doing here?”

Bucky had just passed your lab. As far as he was aware, you should have left work hours ago. You should have been getting ready, listening to whatever playlist you’d compiled with Wanda, picking your outfit with that perfect smile on your face as you looked in your mirror to fix your lipstick. 

So why were you still here?

You looked up, looking for him and where his voice had travelled from. Your gaze found him standing back in the doorway. The lights behind him were dimer than they usually would be. After the clocks turned six in the evening, they did that to save on energy – even then, they’d only come on if they sensed someone. Before he’d walked down the corridor, the only lights on had been inside your lab with you. 

“Oh, hey.” You turned back to your work. “Just wanted to get some things finished before tomorrow. Hoping Tony might give me half a day.”

Bucky felt himself chuckle as he walked inside. “You do the work of three people. If you asked him, he’d tell you to take a week off.”

You chuckled because you knew it to be true. But you also didn’t like taking too much time away from work. You actually liked your job and the people you worked with. Some more than most. 

“But that still doesn’t answer my question. Shouldn’t you be on your date right about now?”

Bucky looked at his watch. 9:20pm. 

“Oh, uh,” You tried your best to avoid his gaze as you looked away from him. “Yeah…yeah, probably.”

Bucky studied you. And you could feel him doing so. The way he stood there, clipboard loose in his hand and by his side, his eyes fixed on your body, noticing how your shoulders tensed, how you tried your best to hide away from him despite you both being the only two in the room. 

“What happened?”

“Nothing. Everything’s fine.”

Bucky shook his head and pulled up one of your rolling stools until he was sitting down and facing you. “What happened?”

“It doesn’t matter-”

“Yes, it does.”

You forced a smile, still not looking at him but rather at whatever contraption you’d pulled apart only to rebuild again. 

“No, it-”

“It does because you never hide anything from me.”

“Mostly because I can’t,” you muttered to yourself but by the soft chuckle from Bucky, he’d heard you. 

“What is it? What’s going on? Why are you still here?”

It took you a moment but eventually you put down the motherboard and finally looked at him. “If I tell you, it doesn’t leave this room. I don’t need the questions and I don’t need a plethora of super-humans marching or flying down to defend my honour.”

He didn’t like where the conversation was heading but Bucky reluctantly agreed. 

“I’m not on the date, but Matthew is.” 

Matthew was your boyfriend of three years. Bucky had met him a handful of times and he seemed nice enough, but there was always something Bucky didn’t like about him. How he talked, how he walked, how he seemingly didn’t realise how lucky he was to have you. 

“What are you-”

With your hands folded in your lap, you continued to explain. “The date that I told Wanda about, the one that was meant to be for tonight?” 

Bucky nodded. 

“Well, what I thought was meant to be a surprise for me was actually…a surprise for my best friend. Ex-best friend,” you corrected yourself. “Matthew didn’t think I would find out, but when I asked him if I should take any days off work soon, he said no. I thought it was just a fluke, but it wasn’t.”

“Y/n-”

“Matthew broke up with me a week later.”

“What?”

You saw the subtle changes in Bucky’s demeanour as you told him. How his gaze and eyes grew darker, how his shoulders became stiff and alert, how his fists clenched on the table. 

You took a breath. “Matthew broke up with me three weeks ago, but I’m okay.”

“Okay? Okay? I’ll kill him.”

You shot out of your seat and rushed ahead of him, stopping him in his tracks. 

“Bucky Bucky, Bucky, stop. Stop, okay. Look, I’m fine. And I promise, I am okay. Guess finding out that your boyfriend has been sleeping with your supposed best friend for six months kinda softens the aftermath of the break-up.”

“Six months?!”

“Just…sit down? Please?”

It took a little longer than a minute, but eventually he sat back down and you picked up the clipboard that had been dropped to the floor and handed it back to him. 

“How can you be okay?”

You smiled, even if it was still a little sad. “Because I’ve dealt with it.”

“How?”

“Poured glitter into their new washing machine, as well as onto all of their clothes,” you admitted. “Stole the plate out of the microwave, took the hand pumps out of the soap, threw out the car wax from his cleaning kit. You know, just small things that will cause them a nuisance for a lifetime.”

Bucky felt himself laugh. “Remind me never to piss you off.”

“Don’t have to,” you smiled. “You know better.”

“Yeah, I do. I’m sorry, Y/n.”

You just shrugged, trying to ignore the sting in your heart. “It’s okay.” 

Bucky’s eyes followed you around the table until you sat back down in your seat. “No, it’s not. I’m sorry he didn’t know how good he had it.”

You looked up at him. “Thanks, Buck.”

“I mean it, Y/n. I know you loved him. He didn’t deserve you.”

You felt his words wash over you and settle into your bones. You’d been dealing with the break up on your own. You knew you didn’t have to, but it was easier. Simpler. But hearing him tell you that…it was worth its weight in gold. 

You tried your best to place that familiar look in his eyes as he looked at you. It wasn’t pity, or sadness. Well, maybe a little. But there was something else there. Something…more. You’d noticed it before but even then you couldn’t have given it a name. It was just…

Something More. 

Like he knew something you didn’t. Like he was trying to tell you something he didn’t have the courage to say out loud. 

“Want me to take you home?”

You shook your head, “No, it’s okay. I can-”

But then he gave you that smile that always made your stomach do a little flip. The way his lips curved in the corner on his mouth, a slightly sassy but genuine look in his eyes. 

“Come on, I’ll take you home.”

With a grateful smile, you smiled and stood up. On the way out, Bucky helped you remove your lab coat before helping put on your actual one. From there, he waited for you to lock up before you finally reached his car and hopped into the passenger seat. 

You’d placed your new address into the car’s GPS and explained to Bucky why you had a new one. 

“Even if she hadn’t moved in, I wouldn’t have wanted to stay there on my own. Knowing everything they’d done together?” You shook your head. “I would have moved, anyway.”

Bucky seemed to adjust himself in his seat, one hand on the wheel as the other rested in between himself and you. 

“Maybe it’s a good thing you didn’t tell the rest of us.”

You chuckled, already knowing what he was thinking. You knew you’d have to tell them eventually. And you would. Preferably in a place where they couldn’t all suddenly disappear on you or wouldn’t see the masked pain behind your expression which would only lead to more questions. 

You’d become friends with the team not long after you’d joined Shield. Tony had studied your work, produced in Shield labs and instantly had given you an offer to work with him on a permanent basis. Before you could finish spending the day thinking about it, you had orders from Hill telling you, you were to become the new resident Lab Tech at the Compound. 

You’d worked along-side Tony and the rest of his science team, fixed equipment for the team and eventually found a friendship with them all individually. 

Wanda had been the first one; she’d been looking for someone to talk to since Clint was out for the day for Training new recruits. The next had been Tony and Natasha and very soon after had been Clint, Bruce and finally Steve.

Steve had been away on back-to-back missions which resulted in him being one of the last. Within a week of him returning, you’d met everyone else since Tony had decided to throw a party. 

You had asked why, but Pepper had just told you that to Tony it was “just because” but she’d worked on a mission plan. Charity Gala. She’s planned the whole thing with Peter’s Aunt. 

It was at that gala that Bucky had first met your boyfriend. At the time, you’d both only been dating eight months. 

“Did you buy a renovation?”

You dug into your bag for your keys but nodded. “Yeah. It’s kinda been a nice distraction.”

“Do you know what you’re doing?”

You looked at him, a little offended. “I’m an engineer.”

“I know.” Bucky was still taking in the property. “I’ve met you. Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”

Bucky had seen you build some of the most complicated tech in the world. A handful of times, even Shuri had been shocked and impressed. But he’d also seen you try and build a bookshelf from Ikea on your own. 

“I’ll be fine.”

“I’ve got some weekends free.” Bucky told you. “I’ll help you.”

“You don’t have to-”

“I want to.” 

You were taken slightly aback as you saw the smile on his face. But you smiled back anyway. He’d always had that effect on you. 

“Okay.”

The following six weekends were filled with stripping old paint, pulling out and replacing rotten floors and beams, plastering walls and securing the foundations. The building had been with the bank for almost thirty years. Nobody had ever wanted to buy it. 

You’d guessed it had been built in the forties, or thereabouts. A covered porch had been added on to equal the starting point of the front steps, the shutters on the front windows had either been missing or hanging on by a rotten nail so they were soon replaced. There were three matching windows set at equal distance from each other upstairs. One in the middle and one on either side of it – all facing the front of the home. The garden was overgrown to the point where wildflowers had over run themselves and probably created a new breed. 

The back was much in the same way; a covered porch, windows, shutters, and a larger back garden perfect for an allotment and space for kids or dogs to run around. 

Eventually, those six weeks turned into six months. 

You did what you could within the week and Bucky helped with the rest at the weekends. When Sam found out Bucky was helping, he pitched in, too. Though, he was more helpful when placed away from Bucky and at the other side of the house. That had been something you’d learned quickly. They worked well together but the amount of hours they spent arguing about how to paint…

It was safe to say you’d taped out their own spaces in the house and they were not allowed to cross the tape unless they needed a bathroom break or a snack. 

Wanda had been more than helpful on the days where they’d both decided to sneak past the tape and judge each other's work. 

“Hey, hey, hey, would you- Wanda, put me down.”

“Stay in your tape.”

After the first three months, you were finally able to go out and buy new furniture and return the rented ones. 

“Left a bit, left a bit.”

“We need to go right.”

“No, we need to go left.”

Wanda leaned over to you. “How long have they been like this?”

“Two hours. I have tried.”

You sighed and crossed your arms, watching as Sam and Bucky tried to take your new sofa inside. 

“Right, right. Now go up.”

“Up?”

“Yes, up?”

“What are you gonna do? Make it fly?”

Sam just started at Bucky. 

“Oh, for the love of-”

As you threw your arms into the air, Wanda laughed and started walking towards them. Eventually they dropped the furniture and she moved it herself. It fit through your door simply – just as you had expected before the double comedy act decided to take charge. 

Finally, after six long months of stripping, plastering, painting, repainting, rearranging, building, and everything in between, you were finally done. 

You and Bucky lay on the floor together, staring at the ceiling, your beers sweating with condensation onto the placemats. 

“Thank you for helping me.”

“Don’t mention it.”

“As much as I love my new kitchen, I think I’m just gonna order in. What do you want?”

“Where are you getting it from?”

After twenty minutes, you and Bucky had decided on a place and ordered two pizzas with a side of fries. “Half an hour. Right.” You stood from the floor. “I’m going for a shower. You can hop in after me.”

Bucky was glad your back was turned from him since he could feel the heat spread across him. 

“Why?”

“Because you stink.”

You heard him laugh. Since day one, you’d never held back from telling him what you thought. It was one of the things he loved about you. 

Upstairs, you turned the shower and stepped inside only to watch the dust and paint flakes fall down with the water and into the drain. Twenty minutes later, your hair was washed for the third time that week – white paint from your skirting boards following the suds of the shampoo. 

And then Bucky walked up the stairs. 

As he reached the top of the staircase and turned his head down the hall, he called out your name. 

“Shower’s free! Just getting dressed!”

“Hey, uh, I-I left you something downstairs. Feel free to open it!”

“Really? Okay.”

Bucky smiled before walking into your bathroom and closing the door but leaving it cracked open slightly. The steam was still leaving the room and he couldn’t open the window just yet. 

However, what he didn’t notice as he carefully got undressed was you walking down the hall. Fresh in your pajamas which consisted of an old t-shirt and shorts, you towel dried your hair except in the defogging mirror in your bathroom, you caught a glimpse of Bucky. 

Naked Bucky. 

His back was turned to the mirror, his muscles lightly flexing as he moved to draw back the shower curtain and step into the shower. You tried to ignore the way your heart fluttered in your chest or how your legs unconsciously clamped together as you looked at him. 

But as the curtain was drawn back, hiding him from sight, you took in a small breath before hurrying down the hallway, down the stairs and into the living room. 

You were thankful Bucky was in the shower at that moment in fear of him seeing and knowing what the embarrassed and heated look on your face meant. 

The image you’d just witnessed, it was safe to say, was burning into your mind. 

It was the knock on your front door which startled you out from your daydream about Bucky and the way he-

“Hey, two pep- Matthew.” 

What should have been the pizza guy with your pizzas was your ex. 

“What the fuck?”

“Please, please just hear me out,” he begged. “I am so sorry for what I did. I shouldn’t have slept with your best friend but I thought that was what I wanted. But-”

“Goodbye.”

“Wait! Please!”

His hand landed on the door. “Please. I-I thought that was what I wanted but these months apart have made me realise something.”

“Look, I don’t know how you found me but please leave.”

“I’m still in love with you, Y/n. I always was. And I’m ready for more, if that’s what you want.”

Down the hall, you heard your name being called. But Matthew didn’t. 

“I should never have cheated on you, but I promise I never will again. It was good, right? You loved me? I loved you.”

“Please leave.”

“I will spend everyday making it up to you because I realised, I am worthy of you. Please, just give us a chance. I promise-”

In the space of about three seconds, you saw Matthew’s face change from begging to terrified and shocked at the same time before the door you were holding onto tightly opened wider from behind you. 

Then you found yourself met with a freshly showered, completely naked save for the towel wrapped around his waist, Bucky. You felt the heat spread across your entire body as you tried your best to not make it obvious how you were trying to remember the moment for a lifetime. 

The definition of his muscles, the way his arm flexed as it remained on his hip, the metal arm behind you, holding the door securely. The way the beads of water dripped down his neck and tracked down his body and into the top of the towel. The way his eyes burned with a kind of darkness you’d only ever seen in him when he was ready to attack, but somehow still remained soft when they fell on you. 

“Holy-”

“What are you doing here?” 

“I-I-I came to get Y/n back.”

“Oh, really?”

You felt yourself smile up at Bucky, for more than just the reason he was making your ex crap his pants. 

“Y-Yes. I’m worthy of her.”

“You’re not worthy of shit.”

Matthew tried his best to ignore Bucky as he turned back to you. “Please. Y/n. I’m ready. Just come home with me.”

“I have a home. A new home. Very, very far away from you.”

“How did you even find this place?” Bucky asked. 

Matthew had to look at him and eventually spat out that your ex-best friend had seen your car turn down the avenue a few weeks back when she was heading to work. So, he looked out for it and hoped for the best. 

It was in a sudden motion Bucky’s right arm reached out and held Matthew up by the scruff of his collar. “You’re gonna forget you ever learned this address and leave Y/n alone. Do I have to repeat myself, or are we clear?”

A clearing cough came from somewhere behind Matthew. 

The pizza guy. 

“H-hi? S-Sorry about the wait. They’re working on the road at the top of the street so-so I-I had to double back.Two pepperoni?”

You nodded and the guy told you the price that had been exchanged over the phone. 

“Thanks.”

“I hope you resolve…whatever this is. Bye.”

Hopping back on his pizza scooter, he headed towards his next address. 

Matthew finally looked back at Bucky who’s stare hadn’t left him since he picked him up. 

“I don’t like repeating myself, Matthew.”

“But she still loves me.”

“No, she doesn’t.” 

That much had been made clear to Bucky over the last six months. He watched you put whatever anger and sadness you’d bottled up and put away into how you’d pulled out rotting beams and how you stabbed and yanked dead weeds from the ground with all your might. 

He also saw it in your quiet moments after that. How you built yourself a home without any reminiscence of Matthew or your ex-best friend, how you found freedom and love in what was around you and how you let yourself date again. The dates didn’t last too long but they always ended mutually – not one sided. 

“She does.”

You practically rolled your head with your eyes. “I really don’t.”

Bucky just smirked. 

“B-but what about our life together?”

“The one you torched when you fucked my friend? Yeah,” you heard yourself laugh. “That will never exist.”

As you went to walk away, leaving Bucky to deal with Matthew, he called out. 

“You can’t seriously be fucking him?”

Turning on your heel, you looked at both of them. Bucky seemingly didn’t react. Until a sliver of unrecognisable courage came pouring forward. 

“And what if I am?”

Bucky reacted to that. Not that Matthew noticed. 

“Not that it’s any business of yours,” you added. 

“But-”

“Goodbye, Matthew.”

As you walked into the kitchen and laid out the pizzas, it was a few minutes before you heard a cry from Matthew, followed by a crash of plywood from the skip that was ready to be collected the next day. 

Finally, the door closed and Bucky walked back into the kitchen, towel still around his waist. 

Walking out from your laundry room, you took the last mental image of a practically naked Bucky, standing in your home, looking sun-kissed and all kinds of handsome. 

“You left some clothes here the last time you stayed over.” Standing in front of him, you handed him his clothes. 

“Thanks.”

Taking them from you, Bucky smirked as he caught your gaze scanning his entire body. 

“How are you feeling?”

Your gaze flicked back to his, acting as if you hadn’t just been checking him out, but the heat on your face gave you away. 

“Good.” You smiled. “Actually, really good. Kinda shocked me when it was him and not the pizza guy- thank you, by the way. For dealing with him. I’m sure there’s some speech I should give you about threats of violence but it was nice to see him scared after everything he did.”

“Clearly he didn’t get a new washing machine.” Bucky held up his hand, small flecks of glitter on the palm. You laughed. 

“You can’t escape it.”

Bucky chuckled, too. “Guess you can’t.”

It was in the silence that followed, your hand holding onto his from when you moved it to see the glitter, that you saw that look in his eyes again. That something more look. He’d looked at you like that since the beginning. 

For a while you thought that was just how he looked at people. But you saw the way he looked at Steve and Sam and Natasha and Wanda. You saw the way he looked at strangers on the street as they walked past him, you saw the way he looked at kids when they walked up to him and asked for his autograph, you saw the way he looked at reporters when they asked about the 40s or asked a question he didn’t like. 

You saw the way he looked at everyone else. 

And then there was the way he looked at you. 

Something more.

You felt yourself step forward a little as he dropped his hand and held onto yours. It was a subtle difference. The way he looked at you, the way he held you, the way he spoke to you. 

It was his turn to step closer. 

Carefully placing his clothes down on the kitchen island beside you both, his other hand reached out for you, brushing the hair from your eyes. 

And for a rare moment, you shocked him. Usually, he knew everything with you. It was rare you had to actually tell him something. He spent that long looking at you, it was almost as if his gaze could stare directly into your soul and know what you needed. 

But this. 

This he didn’t see coming. 

No matter how long he’d hoped for it. 

You kissed him. 

And for a moment he was still, feeling your lips against his. Then it was like he was brought back to life. Feeling your hand in his, he squeezed your hand and you squeezed back. Finally, he kissed you back. His hands came to hold your face as he stepped into you, his kiss matching yours. 

In a few turns, your back was against the counter of your kitchen island, your hands sending goosebumps throughout him as they trailed down his chest, sides and held him closer by his neck and back. 

It wasn’t long before he lifted you onto the counter and your legs spread open for him to step closer. Slowly, the kisses peppered away until you were both left gasping for breath, feeling his forehead against yours. 

“Shit.” Bucky eventually breathed, a small laugh escaping him. And you giggled, holding him closer. 

“You better get dressed before you give my new neighbours an exclusive.”

Bucky looked behind him, realising you were both in a semi-clear view of the blind-less windows. They were getting delivered and installed on Monday. For now, you just had curtains and the panels on the windows. 

Then he looked down. The towel was slowly coming loose from his hips. Then he swore for a different reason. 

“You might have to give me a minute.”

It took you a second to realise what he was talking and blushing about. Then you tried to hide your laugh. “Either you put on some shorts or you give my neighbours an original welcome to the neighbourhood.”

Bucky gave you a look before looking around. Finally, grabbing his clothes, he surprised you with a quick kiss to your lips which made you smile and distracted you enough to let him go. Behind your kitchen island, he slipped on his shorts before removing the towel. 

“Thought I might get a show.”

Bucky gave you another look. “I’d rather save that for when it’s just you and me, doll.”

You hummed, your arms coming back to his shoulders. “Fair enough.”

A shorter silence came over you both as Bucky looked at you again. 

“What? What is it?”

You just kept looking. 

“You’re looking at me like I’ve got two heads.”

“You always look at me like that.”

“Like you’ve got two heads?”

You shook your head. “No. Like I’m…something more. I’ve noticed it for a while but I don’t know…why do you look at me like that?”

Bucky just smiled, already knowing what you were talking about. “Because you are something more, doll. You’re more than something more to me.”

You searched his face for what felt like hours, trying to decipher his cryptic message until it finally clicked with you. His message hadn’t been cryptic at all. It had been staring at you, quite literally, for years. 

Bucky watched as the expressions changed on your face; trying to find his meaning, wondering if you’d found the right one, convincing yourself it wasn’t possible, coming back to your original conclusion, accepting it though not fully, hoping it was true, not wanting to embarrass yourself if you were wrong, being certain you were right, and then not, until finally you’d found the courage to ask him if you were. 

And he just smiled. Freely, and without hesitation, he answered. 

“I’m in love with you, Y/n. That’s why you’re more than something more to me.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“You already had someone.” Bucky said, a little defeat in his voice. 

“Had being the key word.” 

He smiled and looked back at you. “I didn’t want to rush things. We…we both needed time.”

Unconsciously, your body moved closer to his touch as his hand traced down your arm before he held onto your hand. Fingers danced around each other before he finally pulled your hand close to his lips and kissed your knuckles, then your palm, and finally your inner wrist. 

Finally, your head touched his. Eyes closed, breaths taking in and let out in sync. 

“I am in love with you, Y/n. I have been for a long time and I don’t wanna rush this.”

You leaned up and looked at him. “Then we won’t. Like you said, we both needed time. And, Bucky?”

He looked at you, again. 

“You’re more than something more to me, too.”

Then he smiled, that genuine if slightly sassy grin. “I know, doll.”

[dfstolenart]

Oh baby | Criminal Minds

.・゜✭・. Spencer Reid x F!Reader .・゜✭・.

Summary: you and Spencer unexpectedly become parents despite not being together officially

A/N: This is probs my fav fic I’ve written, so far. Hope you guys love it<3 lmk your thots:D also not proof-read I just wanted to get something posted.

BYR(b4 u Reid): Kind of a situationship?, nervous and scared Reid | kissing lol <- [warnings]

You woke up feeling absolutely miserable, maybe even worse than a hangover. A wave of nausea hit you hard, sending you rushing to your bathroom.

Dropping to your knees in front of your toilet, you barely had a second to catch your breath before you started throwing up, your stomach twisting with each heave “gross” you muttered

Flushing the toilet, and brushing your teeth you run to your alarm reading the time 7:30 am

Thirty minutes before you had to be at your desk

You throw on something work-appropriate but comfortable, not having energy to put much effort into your appearance after the rough start to your morning

As you walk towards the door, your eyes flicker to your calendar. Something makes you pause, and you decide to check it

A sinking feeling settles into your stomach when you see it’s around the time you’re supposed to start your cycle, but you quickly brush it off not wanting to stress yourself out even more

Cycles change all the time you convinced yourself it was just happening to you

As soon as the elevator doors opened, you hurried out, making a beeline for your desk.

“Just in time.” Spencer noted as you arrived

“I was worried I was going to be late.”

“You had exactly one minute to spare.” He held up a cup of coffee “I picked it up on the way.”

You took the cup but eyed him skeptically before grabbing his wrist and pulling him towards a quieter corner, his brows furrowed in confusion

“It’s a nice gesture, really,” you said as you lifted up the cup “But this looks a little suspicious.”

“Getting you coffee is suspicious?” He questioned

You sighed “I just don’t want the team in our business. They’re already catching on, and I’d rather keep this between us.”

He considered that for a moment before nodding “If it helps, I’ll buy Derek coffee tomorrow to throw them off.” He suggested

You couldn’t help but smile “you’re annoying.”

Spencer chuckled, then, to your surprise, laced his fingers with yours “you know.” He said matter of factly “If anything looks suspicious, it’s you pulling me somewhere private for a conversation.”

You nodded agreeing with him “You’re right.” and with that you let go of his hand “I’ll talk to you later.” you say as you walk away from the tall gorgeous man

You’d be lying if you said you didn't miss the way your fingers felt together or the sounds that leave his mouth when he laughs

It was like music to your ears

You know you shouldn't feel that way since what you guys have isn’t official, and you didn’t want to get hurt.

A few days have passed and it was like each day was worser than the last, now it was headaches, fatigue, nausea all creeping in at the worst moments

But you're convinced its just a bug, between the stress of the last case you and your team did and the lack of sleep it makes sense that your body is shutting down

Except, your girl friends at the BAU don't believe that one bit

“Geez, you look pale.” JJ says as she leans against your desk, arms crossed “And she’s been running to the bathroom a lot.” Emily joins in

You wave them off “I'm just coming down with something”

“Yeah that's what you said yesterday, and the day before.” Penelope recalls “What is this an intervention?” you question

“Nope, just your friends worried about you.” JJ says as she shared a knowing look with Emily and Pen

“It’s nothing.” you assured them

“Hey, I brought you some tea.” Spencer says as he joins the group, setting a cup down in front of you. His eyes scan your face with concern “you look sick.”

Your stomach twists at his comment “Do I really look that bad?” you ask feeling a bit insecure

Spencer's eyes widen slightly, he stumbles on his words “No-no, not bad. I just meant… you seem unwell. That's all.”

Emily smirks, shaking her head “Way to go, Dr. Reid.” she grabs her files and walks off

JJ gives you a sympathetic look as she stands “And that's our cue to leave. Come on, Penelope.” Garcia leans in as she follows JJ “Feel better sunshine.” she says before disappearing down the hall

Spencer shifts on his feet “I’m sorry. I shouldn't of had said it like that.”

You sigh, feeling guilty for your reaction “It’s okay. I’m just feeling extra sensitive today. I know you didn’t mean anything by it.”

He studies you for a moment, then lowers his voice “Have you thought about seeing a doctor? You've been sick for awhile now.”

You shake your head quickly “It’s not that serious.” but Spencer doesn't look convinced “Well…If you need anything, I'm right here.

You offer him a smile “Thanks, Spence.”

As he walks away, you stare at the tea he left behind. The more you think about it, the more unease settles in your chest. What if this isn’t just a stomach bug? What if it’s something worse.

And worse than that, what if you’re right?

As soon as lunch rolled around, you grabbed JJ, Emily, and Penelope by the arms “Come with me. Now.”

“Where are we going?” Garcia asked, eyeing you curiously “A store.” You hesitated, lowering your voice “I need a test.”

All three of them stopped in their tracks, wide eyed “Like a test test?” JJ asked, eyebrows raised, you nodded the fear in your eyes answering for you

“Okay.” Emily said already walking “Let’s go.”

“Wouldn’t you want to do this with…you know, whoever might’ve done this?”

“Uh, no. He’s busy.” You said quickly, leading them toward the exit, but just as you reached the door, Morgan and Spencer appeared

“Hey, where are you guys headed?” Morgan asked “Yeah, I thought we were all getting lunch at Caesars.” Spencer added, Rossi standing beside him

JJ reacted fast “We’re getting medicine for y/n” Spencer frowned “Oh I can come. I know which one will work best.”

“No, no, no, we got it.” Garcia said quickly waving him off Spencer narrowed his eyes, clearly sensing something was off, but eventually nodded “Alright. See you later.”

The four of you bolted out the door.

Inside the store, you stood frozen in front of all the pregnancy test selections, overwhelmed.

“Why are there so many?” You groaned, scanning the shelves “These are easy to read.” JJ said, grabbing a Clear Blue and handing it to you

You grimaced “Do I have to put it on the register?”

Emily snorted “You literally profile murderers for a living, but you’re scared to purchase a pregnancy test?”

“No wonder you might be pregnant” Garcia teased “Were you too scared to buy condoms too?”

You shot them a glare “Hilarious.”

JJ rolled her eyes and grabbed the test from your hand “I’ll put it down.” you sighed in relief “Thank you.”

At the register, you all smiled stiffly at the cashier as he rang it up. He barely acknowledged you guys, but that didn't stop you from feeling widely judged.

Back at the BAU, the four of you rushed to the restroom.

“Pee on the stick, wait five minutes, and we’ll either celebrate or cry.” JJ instructed “Your call.”

You exhaled, feeling like you were preparing for battle “Alright.” Stepping into the stall, you did what you had to do, then set the rest down on the counter, turning it away from you

“Timer is set.” Garcia announced, your heart pounded, you knew what the results was going to be, and that terrified you more than anything

The four of you sat in silence on the restroom floor, gross, but none of you cared right now. The weight of the situation hung heavy in the air

“Time’s up.” Garcia finally said glancing at you with concern, you swallowed hard “I can't look.”

“Want us to?” Emily offered you nodded “Please”

JJ picked it up first. The three of them leaned in, their expressions unreadable. Then, without a word JJ handed it to you

Your hands trembled as you looked down

Pregnant

Your heart dropped, and a lump formed in your throat, but you refused to break. Not here, not now. Instead, you slowly nodded, forcing out a breath “okay”

“So…is this good or bad?” Garcia asked, studying your face, you opened your mouth, then closed it “I don't know.” you admit

“Are you going to tell him?” JJ asked gently, you nodded “eventually.”

Emily places a reassuring hand on your shoulder giving it a gentle squeeze “We’ll give you time to process, when you're ready, we’re here.”

Each of them gives you a small, comforting smile before slipping out of the restroom, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

You leaned back against the wall, staring at the ceiling

“Why? Why? Why?” you whispered to yourself

This wasn't just about you.

This was about Spencer.

Your coworker.

A man you weren't even in a relationship with.

How the hell were you going to tell him?

You stepped out the restroom, exhausted and ready to be anywhere but here. Your body felt heavy, your mind even more so. All you wanted was to crawl into bed and shut the world out.

“Hey! We’re still on for tonight?”

The familiar voice made you stop in your tracks. Of course it was Spencer.

“Tonight?” You frowned, genuinely confused

He gave you a puzzled look “Movie night? At my place? Like it has been every Friday for the past six months?”

“Oh…right.” You let out an awkward laugh, and rubbed the back of your neck “Sorry, I’m just- are you sure you want me there? I don’t want to get you sick.” You say even though you knew what you had wasn’t contagious

“I’ll be fine.” He said with a small smile “I can disinfect everything.”

You hesitated before nodding “then, I’ll be there.” “Great.”

Silence settled between you two, he looked at you like he knew something was off, and part of you wanted to just say it right then and there.

“Well, I should get back to my files.” You said quickly making an excuse to leave.

Before you could slip away, he gently grabbed your hand “Are you sure you’re alright?” His voice was quieter now, more concerned.

“Yes, Spencer, I’m fine.” You forced a reassuring smile, but his eyes searched yours unconvinced

“Did I…do something?”

“What? No!” Your stomach knotted at the thought of him blaming himself “why would you think that?”

He hesitated “Just how you’ve been acting recently, I want to know if it’s because of me.”

You sighed, squeezing his hand before pulling away “It’s not you, I promise.”

He nodded but the uncertainty was still there “Okay.”

With that, you turned and walked back to your desk, diving into your files, forcing yourself to focus. For a couple hours, it worked. You got lost in the work, grateful for the temporary escape— until a voice whispered right into your ear

“So… who’s the father?”

You jumped, nearly knocking over your coffee “Jesus Garcia.” She grinned unapologetically “Sorry, did I scare the baby?”

You glared at her “No, you scared me.” She leaned in closer “Can I take a guess?”

You gave her a warning look “You don’t know him.”

Garcia scoffed “Sweetie, I know this guy. Anyone with a pair of eyes can tell just by the way you two interact. You guys are getting it on.”

Your face burned “Penelope.”

She wiggled her eyebrows “So, it is who I think it is.” You sighed, lowering your voice “You have to keep this a secret. Please.”

She immediately sobered, nodding “Of course, but you are telling him, right?”

You swallowed hard, glancing over at Spencer who was talking to Hotch across the room “Yeah.”

“I’m happy for you guys, no matter what you choose to do.” Garcia said warmly you gave her a small grateful smile

“Thank you. I just- I don’t know what to do. I know my options, obviously, but I don’t think I can go through with that. But at the same time, I don’t want to do this if Spencer isn’t ready. I don’t want to hold him back.”

Garcia shook her head “Look, he loves you. It’s so obvious the little things he does for you, the way he talks about you when you aren’t around. He is going to be ready.”

You let out a deep sigh, looking down at your hands “we’re not even together.” The admission felt embarrassing, like it somehow made everything worse

“Honey, you know Spencer. It takes him awhile, but he’ll come around to making it official. He’s just scared.” You exhaled leaning back into your chair

“Yeah…maybe.”

“not maybe— definitely” she corrected “Just give him time.”

The work day ended, and you had finally returned home, you threw yourself on your bed still in your work clothes but too lazy to change

You laid there deep in your thoughts until you drifted off to sleep

You weren’t sure how long you had been out but there was knocking at your door that woke you

You looked through the hole and seen it was Spencer, he looked worried “Spencer?” You question as you open the door allowing him to enter

“I was calling, you never answered. I got worried.” He tells you as he looks at you scanning to make sure you were alright “I fell asleep, I’m so sorry.” You apologize “no it’s okay. I’m just happy you’re safe.”

“Today was exhausting.” You admitted. He gave you a look of understanding “Can I do anything to help?”

Your cheeks warmed at the sincerity in his voice. He was always quick to offer whatever he could “No, it’s alright.”

“Are you sure? I give great massages.” He teased, a small smirk playing on his lips, you let out a small laugh “I’m sure, Spencer. How about we just watch a movie?”

He nodded, clearly liking the idea “what are you in the mood for?”

You thought for a moment. After everything today, you just wanted something comforting, something that reminded you of simpler times

“The Fox and the Hound.”

Spencer’s face lit up with a soft smile “That’s a good one.”

“Can you set it up while I change?” You asked “of course.” Spencer replied without hesitation

You stepped into your room, closing the door behind you. As you emptied your pockets your fingers brushed against the pregnancy test. You sighed, staring at it for a moment before tucking it away in your nightstand drawer

Once you had changed into something more comfortable, you walked back out, expecting to see Spencer in the living room but he wasn’t there. You glanced around and spotted him in the kitchen.

“I decided we needed popcorn.” He casually said as he poured some into a bowl “That’s a good idea.” You smiled

Settling on the couch, you grabbed the remote as Spencer joined you, sitting down beside you with the bowl in hand.

You pressed play and it didn’t take long for you to immersive yourself in the familiar comfort of the movie

The movie held your full attention, so much so that you barely noticed every time your hand brushed against Spencer's in the popcorn bowl.

It had always been your favorite movie as a kid, but now watching it while being pregnant, it felt different.

Then came the scene, the scene that always broke your heart as a child and even now as an adult

The little old lady drives off in her car, away from the Fox leaving him in the woods to be free. It felt like it hit you harder then ever before, and suddenly you couldn’t hold back the tears

Spencer turned his head, noticing the way your shoulders shook “Are you crying?” He asked softly “no.” You lied even as you wiped at your cheeks

You let out a small, embarrassed laugh, trying to play it off. Spencer shook his head, shifting to face you. Without a word, he reached out, gently brushing away a stray tear “Hey, it’s alright. It’s a sad scene.” he agreed

Your eyes met his “I think I could use that massage now.” a small smile played on his lips “I think you could too.”

You turned around, away from his gaze, and pulled your hair to the side giving him full access to your back. His hands found your shoulders, pressing in firmly. The tension in your muscles melted under his touch.

“You’re tense.” He murmured. You sighed, eyes fluttering shut “that feels good.”

“So, what’s been on your mind?” He asked your eyes snapped open “What do you mean?”

“You’ve been really stressed lately, today especially. You told me it’s not me, so… what is it?”

You hesitated, knowing this was the moment. You couldn’t keep avoiding it.

“Spencer.” You said, your voice barely above a whisper, his hands stilled “yeah?”

You turned to face him, fresh tears slipping down your cheeks. His stomach dropped, he didn’t know what you were about to say.

“Hold on.” You murmured, quickly getting up. You rushed to your room, grabbing the test from your nightstand. When you returned, Spencer was watching you carefully, his brows furrowed in concern

You sat down, heart pounding “I have something to show you.” You say as you hold out the test to him, Spencer took it hesitantly, his eyes scanning the results

His lips parted slightly “oh.”

That single word terrified you

You weren’t sure what he was thinking.

Spencer on the other hand, his mind was racing so fast he couldn’t form a single coherent thought. His fingers tightened around the plastic stick.

“Say something.” You say as you watch him intently, his head snapped up, eyes wide, searching yours as if trying to piece together a puzzle with missing pieces “You’re…pregnant.” He said

You nodded “yeah.”

Spencer swallowed hard, looking back down at the test, then back to you “it’s mines..right?” He questioned hopeful that you wouldn’t have been with anyone else “of course it’s yours.” You said quickly, feeling a strange mix of emotions, offense, anxiety, fear.

“Right. No, I-i didn’t mean it like that, I just-” he exhaled sharply, shaking his head as he tried to process “This is…a lot.”

“Yeah, I know.”

Spencer went quiet again, his mind clearly catching up to reality.

And then, finally, he looked at you “How are you feeling?” He softly asked “I don’t know. Scared, overwhelmed.” You admitted

Spencer nodded and reached for your hand, taking it in his, it felt warm and grounding.

Spencer hesitated for a moment before taking his hand away and reaching into his pocket, pulling out a small, folded piece of paper. He held it up between you.

“I’ve been carrying this around for a while.” He admitted “It’s a list… of all the reasons I think we’re perfect for each other.”

Your breath caught “Spence-”

“I’m not finished.” He said quickly, his eyes pleading with you to let him get it all out “I’ve been planning to tell you for so long. Too long. I should’ve said something the moment I realized it was you.”

You just stared at him, heart pounding, and he cleared his throat “I even calculated the probability of a successful relationship based on compatibility factors and shared interests.” He let out a small, nervous laugh

That made you smile. Without thinking, you reached for his hand, giving it a soft squeeze

“I want to be with you.” He said, his voice quieter now, more vulnerable “But don’t say yes because of the baby. Say yes because you want me the way I want you.”

His eyes searched yours “say something?” He whispered, you swallowed hard, then nodded towards the paper “Can I read it?”

Relief washed over his face as he handed it to you without hesitation “You just carry it around?”

He nodded, a small, shy smile tugging at his lips “It reminds me of you. So even when you’re not with me, it still feels like you are.”

Your chest ached, and you smiled at him with tears in your eyes “I want to be with you.” You say

Spencer had never felt anything like this before, it was overwhelming in the best way, pure happiness, the kind he never thought he’d get to have.

Despite the fear of the unknown, he knew one thing for certain, he was happy it was you he was going to experience this with.

He pulled you into him, the embrace feeling both familiar and new. This time, there was no more unspoken words, no more uncertainty. Just the two of you, together, exactly as you were meant to be

“So…do the girls know?” He asked, remembering how strangely they all had been acting at lunch, you nodded “They were with me when I found out.”

Spencer exhaled, his eyes softening “I wish I had been there.”

“I know.” You murmured guilt tugging at your chest “I’m so sorry.”

He shook his head “I just, I don’t want to miss anything. Not with you, not with this baby. Every doctors visit, every sick day, every moment, I want to be there.”

His sincerity made your heart ache in the best way “I want you to be there too.”

His fingers gently tilted your chin before he leaned in, pressing his lips to yours. It was soft, and lingering.

When his tongue traced along your bottom lip, asking for more, you gave in without hesitation.

After he pulled away, he smiled, his eyes full of wonder “I can’t wait to see you grow.” You brushed a hand over his cheek, returning his smile “I can’t wait to see you become the best dad.”

Should I make this into a mini series ? Where the next part can be them telling the team? 🤭

[aealzx]

_______________________

Update Post

Prologue | AO3

Previous

_______________________

“DANNY!”

The moment Danny arrived with Jason at the meeting site Jazz and Danielle were immediately wrapping him in a hug. Which was only somewhat unexpected. But after a moment of being surprised Danny found himself holding his sisters tightly, lowering his head between both of theirs’.

“I’m okay. Just… had to blow off some steam,” he assured quietly, taking in their scent and reminding himself that they were still there. He did feel a lot better than yesterday. But there was also an uncertainty if his reprieve would be short lived. And as he lifted his gaze to his friends, and caught sight of their uncertain expressions, he let his mask fade so they could see the half smile he gave them.

That tiny smile was enough to motivate Sam to speak. “...Danny, I-”

 “They have a really good burger joint here,” Danny interrupted. “We should go some time.” He knew what she wanted to say, but he didn’t think he could handle hearing it just then. He didn’t want apologies. Couldn’t handle sympathies. Let him just focus on what he wanted to do at the moment.

It was a simple pair of sentences, but it held just enough behind it that Sam and Tucker’s shoulders both drooped in some relief. Their friend was okay for now, and wasn’t upset with them. And even still wanted to hang out with them. It was more than they could ask for, but they would accept it all the same.

“Sure dude,” Tucker accepted.

“Only if they have vegetarian,” Sam half agreed. Her usual response.

None of them were okay. But they were hanging in there.

“You didn’t puke from it?” Danielle half joked, trying to make the mood lighter now that there was some faint semblance of normalcy among the group.

“No. I’m fine,” Danny half snickered, reaching up to squish his hands against her round cheeks. “Let’s just get you taken care of so we don’t end up having a repeat of this past mess. And then I can take you to go get a burger too. Okay?”

He already seemed to have a plan. Already falling into his forced role leading the people from Amity. Bruce’s frown under his cowl grew, but he didn’t comment. There were more of them there than necessary for the proposed task. They all knew from Jason’s texts that something wasn’t quite right. But they didn’t have enough information to motivate any of them to do more than watch. So watch they did as Raven stepped forward.

“...I’m sorry for your loss,” Raven began politely, also uncertain how to address the mixture of emotions she was picking up. “I had no idea-”

“Let’s save talking about that for later, yeah?” Danny requested, interrupting the girl before she could stir too much of the hurt back up from where he had it buried. He knew it wasn’t healthy, but he told himself it was just temporary.

“...Sure,” Raven relented, figuring she didn’t need to delay any longer in getting to the task she’d been asked to do. “I’ll start with showing you how I accessed the Liminal Realm while walking you through the process. Just watch and listen for now, and we can discuss any questions you have after. Okay? Also, don’t be surprised if it doesn’t work.”

Danny nodded easily, eager to watch how this had been done. They had already warned him there was a chance the ritual would fail this time. But there was also a chance that it would be more stable with him there. Raven had mentioned that he appeared to have a stronger connection with the Realm then even Danielle did, and at this point he was hoping it was true. He needed a good thing in his life right then.

As Raven started her demonstration the rest of the group moved back to give them some space. It was a little smaller scale than before, with the ritual area being isolated to just Raven and Danny. Each motion she made she explained the reason for. As well as any non visual elements that Danny wouldn’t be able to pick up on. Focus of intent, recital of inscriptions in her mind, directing certain energies in which manner, and which energies specifically.

Honestly Danny hadn’t been expecting to understand any of it. He was used to science, not magic, and even then science was a struggle. Or perhaps not, if Tim was still correct. But as the portal between realms was gradually pieced together Danny found he seemed to understand more at a subconscious level than he’d thought he would. He knew that energy. He knew this feeling. He knew this pattern. He knew these demands. This was his realm. And without his home realm to vie for half possession of him it was even more prominent now as a small rift opened in the space in front of Raven, barely visible from where Danny was standing mostly behind her.

This. Was. His. Realm.

And it owed him.

He was right.

“That’s enough Raven, I’ll take it from here,” Danny spoke up suddenly, an unexpected confidence lacing his tone as he reached out to grab Raven’s shoulder and pull her back. She sputtered slightly not only in confusion, but also because pulling her out of the central point caused the tiny connection she’d built to the Liminal Realm to flicker. At first Raven thought that the realm was irritated about the ritual being disrupted. But as Danny became the central focus for that tear to see, for whoever was beyond that tear to see only him, Raven noticed a distinct sense of uneasy anticipation. Everyone that was there could feel the air shift from the same  absent eeriness from before to feeling like they had millions of eyes actively staring through them. Eyes from people, from things they didn’t know had turned on them, watching as Danny took Raven’s place and gently shoved her away.

There was something watching all of them that seemed borderline angry, but Danny didn’t seem to care. He’d thought it would take longer than one afternoon for him to get the connection to the Infinite Realms that he needed. But this was enough. And both sides knew it.

And it was good it was angry, because Danny was too.

Reaching his fist back Danny ignored the others’ cries for him to hold on and smashed his hand through the tiny gateway, shattering it and the surrounding area of this realm in a crashing cascade of glass. The others felt their realm lurch around them, breaking away and tilting just enough to feel wrong and disorient their sense of balance as they were dumped into the connecting space between realms. There were short cries and curses from the crowd brought to the weightless realm that Jazz and the others from Amity immediately recognized, expressions going slack as they realized what happened.

Danny had brute forced his way into taking over the ritual, bending the intent to his own and ripping open a gateway whether it wanted him to or not. Because he knew it couldn’t tell him no. He may not be the Ghost King, but he was something else. He was their connection between realms. Their servant- their slave - their soldier, their hero, their icon. Kept obedient and easily manipulated through ignorance that no longer applied. He would not be kept out of his realm. And he’d even selected the specific place he’d wanted them to be brought to.

As soon as Danny’s hand had passed through the barrier between realms he’d opened his fingers just long enough to grab a fistful of fabric before he could even see who it belonged to. It was only when the barrier fully broke away, a moment of blinding white and residual glimpses of the other realm’s sky lingering in their sight, that the owner of the purple cloak was visible. And said owner seemed incredibly unconcerned with Danny holding him in a borderline chokehold.

“...There you are, Danny,” Clockwork chose as a greeting.

“Clockwork?!”

“Danny! What are you doing?!”

“Who?”

“Oh this is bad!”

Despite the commotion of those, admittedly accidentally, brought to Clockwork’s tower with him, Danny just narrowed his eyes at the ghost he’d grabbed. “Put. Them. Back,” he demanded, not bothering to elaborate since he knew Clockwork had already seen everything that had happened.

“I can’t do that,” Clockwork denied easily.

“Yes you can! Turn back time! Send me back alone! Just do something!” Danny protested, his irate front breaking slightly into desperation and causing him to have to force his grip to tighten.

“And why should I?” Clockwork asked, prodding.

“BECAUSE YOU OWE ME!” Danny burst, bringing his other hand to also grip the fabric at Clockwork’s throat and shaking him slightly. “All the damn errands I’ve run for you! Every mess I’ve helped you clean up! Every damn mistake you’ve forced me to correct- even when it wasn’t my fault! I took out Pariah for you! Vortex! Undergrowth! Myself! I helped you rewrite the future so you didn’t have to deal with me! You. OWE. Me!”

“You speak as though the tasks given to you aren’t outweighed by your own mishaps we’ve had to clean up,” Clockwork pointed out, knowing that Danny had personally caused his fair share of trouble with the Infinite Realms.

“YOU STARTED THIS IN DEBT TO ME!” Danny roared, eyes flaring bright with a flash of ice.

Despite the outburst, Clockwork seemed almost pleased with the accusation, a strange glint in his eye despite his smile from the beginning having never faltered. “...That’s a rather bold claim,” he pointed out, eyes shifting momentarily away to look at someone who wasn’t there. “Care to elaborate?”

Despite his anger, Danny still caught Clockwork’s motion, and understood what he was getting at. They were being watched. And while the watchers knew what Danny meant, apparently he had to say it. Had to show them he knew they had broken their own rules. That they had stolen his right to choose. He drew a breath to steady himself, but his voice still shook with borderline rage when he answered. “You told me before that I always have a choice. When I tried to change the past to save my friends. And again when I beat Pariah- you told me then that the Infinite Realms run on people being able to make their own choices. That it’s a law here, and that they couldn’t force me to take the crown if I didn’t want it.”

“Yes. I did. What’s your point?” Clockwork confirmed, prodding again.

“And you can confirm that those choices are honored. For example: my decision to not accept the title of Ghost King is still in place.”

“Correct,” Clockwork confirmed, then repeated his previous prompt. “What’s your point?”

“You broke that law when I became half ghost,” Danny finally exposed. He didn’t mean Clockwork specifically at this point, but he wasn’t sure exactly who were all involved in this matter, his gaze momentarily scanning the space around them. He’d only ever dealt with Clockwork, who always seemed stuck in the middle of whatever disastrous mishap was going on.

“I’m not sure I follow,” Clockwork prodded once more, a slight smirk betraying that he did know, but once again needed Danny to say it. 

The response wasn’t specific enough. And while it was frustrating to have to play this game Danny had learned by now that Clockwork was only playing this game to lead him into saying what he needed to say. “I became half ghost by opening the portal to the Ghost Zone - to here- that was in my parents basement. And I learned in that realm we ended up in that it was only possible because this realm requires payment. Payment that was taken on that day.”

“Yes. Your parents paid the price of succeeding in opening a permanent portal to the Infinite Realms in the form of losing their only son. Despite years of failure, they made the choice to continue to pursue the portal, even though there was a risk of catastrophic failure,” Clockwork confirmed, giving him a break by filling in one of the facts for him.

“They chose to continue their research, but I didn’t choose to DIE!” Danny snapped, unable to keep himself calmer. “They paid a price, but I also paid for a debt I didn’t owe. You took my choice away!”

“You walked into the gateway.” Clockwork pointed out.

“I fought Pariah!” Danny countered.

“You didn’t know defeating him would allow you to take the crown.”

“I didn’t know walking into a hunk of metal that hadn’t worked in ten years was going to kill me!” Danny shouted, shaking Clockwork again.

“People die from danger they’re unaware of everyday, Daniel.”

“But how many of them are from a direct action from the Infinite Realms?” Danny hissed, pulling Clockwork close. “I know now that someone else was there, on this side of the portal, to offer me a sacrifice to open the portal and keep it open. I know that someone chose me as a pawn, and didn’t give me a chance to accept or not. I know that someone here broke the law at my expense, and I know that The Observants are involved despite claiming they never act. And therefore I demand that my family, friends, and anyone else I care about be allowed to live long, healthy, fulfilling lives. Or else you’ll have to deal with something worse than Dan.”

There wasn’t a response this time. At least, not from Clockwork. The age shifting ghost simply allowed Danny to maintain a hold of him, letting his words ring into the aether and allowing those watching to consider their actions. Consider the consequences to the events they had allowed to happen. That they may or may not have manipulated into reality. And after a horrid stretch of stagnant time the very environment seemed to shift. The anger that permeated the Realm faltered, then faded. Sliding away into what could more accurately be described as frustrated, and somewhat shameful acceptance.

It made Clockwork laugh.

Which in turn made Danny falter slightly, his grip on Clockwork’s cloak loosening enough to allow the ghost to pull his hands away. “So, you figured it out,” Clockwork eventually chuckled, resting a hand on Danny’s shoulder. “You are correct. There are many in the Realm who owe you recompense for taking away your right to choose the life you have now. So let’s see if we can figure out how to meet your demands without using up your little pool of debt, or breaking the other realms, shall we?”

It was enough. That was finally enough for the relevant people to understand that Danny knew exactly what was going on. What had happened. There was a glimmer of proof that Danny’s idea from the night before on the couch might actually work. That he could force The Observants, and any other necessary party, to bring his realm back because they owed him more than he could probably cash in on. To break such a fundamental law of their realm put them in his debt, and they were only safe because he hadn’t known until now.

He hadn’t known until a certain ghost of time made sure he ended up in a realm where someone would be there to tell him.

Breathing out a shaky sigh, Danny let his head sag forward to thump against Clockwork’s chest, fingers loosely gripping his friend’s cloak. “...Thank you,” he breathed, ignoring the mild shake in his tone.

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

Hhhhhhhhh I got excited and ended up drawing this one real fast because I realized there was a lil trick I could try (that I'm really hoping worked) with the image @ v @ People on dark mode won't get to see the trick because dark mode spoils it, but people in light mode click the picture (or drag or open in a new tab) to see something extra.

Also I'm so excited for this part because I actually had the part with Clockwork typed out since around the part with Raven telling them what Danny was. There's a lot about Ghost King Danny, or new Ancient Danny, but what if Hero of the infinite realms was already something more than those?

And shout out to Rainbow_Sneks on AO3 for being the only person to comment guessing The Observants were involved 8'DDD Well done!

___________

Tag list: @galaxy-sharks-and-bottled-ships, @starscreamlover, @nerdynonnativenarnian, @dragongoblet, @megacharizardx99

@bellathecatastrophe, @cj-ghostemoji-destielpie, @asexual-insomniac, @wolfeyedwitch, @tkiesai, 

@fanaroff, @raven1508, @nebulainajar, @serasvictoria02, @oliocelottafanfics,

@honeysuckletook, @omniithe-deer, @wolf-under-the-stars, @gingernutcalo, @that-random-fangirl,

@op-sys-chaos, @kirasigncomics, @ehobep, @paranoid-ira, @nomaru666

[lara-cairncross]

my personal sonadow headcanons in no particular order bc im procrastinating on writing a research paper right now and its either do this or throw myself off the roof:

Shadow is a few inches shorter than Sonic, but ONLY if he takes his shoes off. cue many years' worth of shenanigans with Shadow doing everything in his power to avoid going barefoot in Sonic's presence because he knows if Sonic finds out he'll never hear the end of it (hes right)

T4T SONADOW

Sonic was able to get top surgery, but Shadow's body healed itself too quickly for it to work on him. flash forward to when he gets his Black Doom abilities and one of his first orders of business is to fuck around with them until he's able to give HIMSELF top surgery

Sonic hates coffee beans (too bitter) and Shadow hates chili dogs (too heavy/savory). they've broken up over this enough times for Rouge to lose count

Sonic is so good at flirting with everyone EXCEPT SHADOW. HE GETS TOO FLUSTERED. HE TRIES SO HARD AND IT NEVER WORKS BUT SHADOW IS TOO DOWN BAD TO CARE

Shadow grew up on a space station, with no biological reason to eat, and no access to fresh food or a kitchen. Sonic literally raised both himself AND TAILS. Shadow is NOT the cook between the two of them please everyone keeps saying otherwise and i dont understand it you cant convince me shadow knows how to boil a pot of water PLEASE SOMEBODY AGREE WITH ME

Sonic ages. Shadow doesn't. 50 years down the line somebody asks Sonic if Shadow is his son. Shadow immediately gets payback for 50 years of short jokes.

they are both so smart and so capable and so dangerous by themselves but if you put them in the same room in any context outside of a life-or-death situation they become the two dumbest motherfuckers you've ever had the displeasure of engaging in polite conversation with

shadow bottoms what who said that

okay this one might be silly but I feel like they would both be good at chess??? like Sonic is surprisingly well-read and more observant than people give him credit for, and Shadow probably had a lot of strategy training from GUN + played games with Maria on the ARK. idk i just feel like it would be a fun way for them to challenge each other outside of just racing/combat yknow

they both wear jewelry with each others' colors :] i usually make it earrings but i think Sonic having bracelets to mirror Shadow's rings would be really cute too

autistic Shadow and ADHD Sonic yes please yes yes yes

Sonic is the most verbally affectionate and Shadow is the most physically affectionate IM RIGHT YOU CANT ARGUE WITH ME ON THIS ONE IM PUTTING MY FOOT DOWN GOODBYE

they like to beat each other up a little toooooo much and its kinda toxic maybe but also theyre both having fun so like. maybe its just a love language 🫶🫶

Tails is so, SO disappointed with Sonic for his choice in men. like he actively considers holding an intervention when he finds out that Shadow and Sonic started dating

theyre both somewhere on the aromantic and asexual spectrums because uhhhhhh so am i and i can project if i want to

Sonic is a chronic yapper and Shadow is a listener BUT. HEAR ME OUT. IT STARTS TO SWAP AS THEY GET MORE COMFORTABLE WITH EACH OTHER. shadow comes out of his shell and feels more at ease talking, and sonic appreciates having someone who doesnt expect him to be at full energy/optimism 24/7 and lets him be silent when he needs to be

[itsrensfairygardenn]

dilf!art x tired!reader for everyone who needs it </3

2,2k words

you’ve been seeing each other for a while now, and your friends say that it’s stupid that the two of you still haven’t moved in together — after all, it’s not weird at all. he seems to like you so much, and you like him too, love him even, because he is the best thing you could ever have, you know that for sure. you live in the most inconvenient part of the town, renting a tiny flat, which is not even that close to your university, and even further away from art’s place — he lives out of town, completely alone in his enormous house, except for days when lily stays with him. he never presses you into staying with him, moving your stuff to his place, or even lingering there for longer than you’re comfortable with, but his eyes always speak for himself — he wants you to stay there with him. he wants his home to become yours too.

life for you is routine, because you’ve built it this way; and while it obeys your rules, working like a finely-tuned machine, you can handle it just fine — i mean, there was nothing impossible, right? the schedule is tough, but you’ve already got used to it, still managing to submit your assignments just in time and getting excellent results, even though your part-time job is taking much more of your time and energy than you thought it would — but it feels nice to be appreciated by your professors, to stay one of the best students, even though it feels like you’re on the verge of losing it because of your job. you don’t have much time for living your quiet and slow life anymore, and it was difficult for you, to the point of a permanent exhaustion, of aching pain all over your body even after a proper rest. but life is never easy, is that what people always say to you? you should adjust to this rhythm, because you think that that’s how adult life works.

and you can handle it just fine, till the moment when this algorithm just stops working.

this day, everything went completely wrong since the very beginning — you overslept, simply because you’d forgotten to set your alarm the night before, and the whole process of getting ready and running to the campus brought you immense anxiety; by the time you got to the classroom, you felt a thick lump of nausea in your throat. you were answering questions on autopilot, thoughtlessly writing down words that couldn’t even form adequate sentences, and you could swear that by the end of this class you were on the verge of crying or losing your consciousness, because you felt so stupid and helpless, not being able to try your hardest, to focus and get a grip. you hadn’t had enough time to have a proper breakfast, you had forgotten half of your notes at home… god, you couldn’t even find it in yourself to answer art’s messages — as always, he sent you ‘good morning’, wishing you a nice day, reminding you about your plans for the evening. why was it so hard for you to just answer?

then someone accidentally pushed you with their shoulder in the cafeteria, and you stained your skirt with sprinkles of coffee that fell from your hands right to the floor… you were sure that you heard someone laughing behind your back, while you were frantically pushing through the crowd to make it to the bathroom. first of all, you were frustrated, terribly embarrassed and mad; second of all, you missed art so badly, that you teared up in the bathroom stall, because you still hadn’t answered his messages, and you knew that he would worry about this silence. he always worries, you know it, but he always pretends that he doesn’t, because he doesn’t want to seem overprotective or overly sensitive; right now a concerned expression of his loving eyes is the last thing you want to witness.

now, when your classes are over, and art’s car is finally waiting for you in the parking lot, you want to cry again — because he’s looking at you through the window, giving you the sweetest smile, with his thumb absentmindedly rubbing the leather surface of the steering wheel, because this very hand is waiting for its chance to settle on your thigh, or caress your cheek. art has missed you so much, you know for sure; he’s so excited about having dinner with you tonight, because both of you’ve been so busy recently, that you didn’t have a chance to spend some quality time together. and here you are, without any makeup on, with these ugly coffee stains on your skirt, and the same anxiety and suppressed emotions bubbling underneath every inch of your skin, that were making you sweat through the day. what if you smell bad? what if you snap at art, just because you feel like falling apart in front of him?

“how was your day?” art asks in this soft, soothing tone of his. as you’ve expected, his hand settles on your knee, gently rubbing your skin; you’re afraid that he’ll say something about this damn skirt, but he doesn’t even look down at it.

art smells like his usual cologne — such a faint note of it, because he’s already washed it off in the shower after training his tennis players under the scorching heat of the sun on the tennis court; you want to bury yourself in his chest and inhale the familiar scent of his skin, to nestle your nose in his neck and make him giggle, the way he always does when you’re together — so boyish and sweet, despite the age. god, he doesn’t seem much older than you at all.

but you can’t even speak, biting your lower lip, with that gloomy crease between your eyebrows. art notices almost immediately, and out of the corner of your eye, you can see his smile fading. is he no longer happy with you? what if you’ll upset him with your attitude, ignoring him just because you feel terrible? he just asks you about your day, and the next moment tears starts falling from the corners of your eyes; you can feel it prickling in your nose, and suddenly the morning nausea is back again.

art’s heart sinks into his chest, stopping its steady rhythm and falling down to his stomach, slowly dying from the sight of your reddened nose and cheeks, the faint traces of tears on your beautiful face — god, he only wishes to never see you upset again, to make you the happiest person in the world. he’s noticed everything about your busy schedule, your exhaustion and those dark circles under your tired eyes — this life is slowly pushing you to the limit, and you don’t even want him to help you. because you think that it’s completely fine, that you can handle everything that you’ve weighed down on yourself.

you think that he’ll be upset with you? the truth is, art will never leave you alone with your pain, and much less judge you for it — if anything, art will make your pain his own, too. he’s ready to absorb it, erasing the line between your difficulties and his own, because as far as he’s ready to share his bed with you, he will always share your worries, your anxiety, your bad days and overwhelming feelings.

“bunny, come here,” he whispers into your hair, already pulling you into his arms, shielding your trembling figure from the world, from all these people passing by his car — he kisses your soft hair, your rosy cheeks and lowered eyelids, wiping your tears away with his warm lips. his thumb catches a hot salty drop right in the corner of your eye, brushing it away before it rolls down your reddened skin. “that’s okay, don’t worry… no, don’t apologize, sweetheart. we’ll figure it out, i promise”

he’s rubbing your back with his firm, calloused hand, grounding you, silently promising you safety and comfort you desperately need, the same quietness and slow pace of life you miss so badly. he whispers that he’ll take you home now, that the restaurant can wait, that you can order takeout later. at this moment, you know that his home is your home, and nothing else matters anymore.

once you get there, he runs you a hot bath and ends up kneeling on the tiled floor, running his fingers through your shampooed hair and massaging your scalp with his fingertips — you’ve already calmed down enough to speak to him and tell about your day, detailing every single thing that has happened to you. he mutters his little “you did nothing wrong, sweetheart”, “they’re just a bunch of stupid kids” and “you’re still my genius” in your ear, occasionally smiling at your choice of words; to be honest, you can make him smile without even trying, and when you joke? he’s giggling, of course he is.

afterwards, you put his old shirt from one of those tennis events and his boxers on. he leads you to the large couch in the middle of his light, spacious living room, and you both settle in the mess of pillows and a blanket that he’s brought from the bedroom; you rest your head on his chest, while he’s looking at his phone screen, quietly listing what you can order for dinner — as always, he’s the one who does it, because he knows how difficult it’s for you to decide what kind of food you would like to eat.

“you aren’t listening, are you?” he notices with a slight grin, and his voice requires this attractive hint of hoarseness. he traces wet hair on the top of your head with his lips, lazily drawing invisible patterns, finalising them with a firm kiss — more like an attempt to immerse himself into the scent of your (his) shampoo.

you’re half-listening, with your eyes blissfully closed, but you’re smiling at his question — it seems like food is the least important part of being next to him right now; you put your hands under his shirt, drawing small circles on his toned stomach with your fingertips, and you know that it was calming both of you down.

“i love you, art” you whisper against his chest, sending these words right to his heart — literally and metaphorically.

“i love you too, bunny” he adjusts his position to kiss your cheek — gently and lovingly; it always feels even more intimate than making love, because at these moments he touches your cheeks like priceless gemstones, or the finest silk.

“you know that i can do anything for you, right?” his tone changes, but it’s barely noticeable, because he’s still so soft with you, treading carefully to not scare you away from him. “i know how much you value your studies. just focus on it, and i’ll help you with the rest”

you shift in his arms, only to look up at him, resting your chin on his broad chest — you seem uncertain, as always. art’s already got used to it, because you’ve never liked talking about money — his money, particularly.

“i don’t know, art. it’s embarrassing,” you admit, lowering your voice to a whisper, and you feel his hand on the back of your neck, gently massaging your tight muscles — never able to keep his hands off you. “i don’t have enough money, and i can’t give anything in return. don’t mention love, because it won’t be enough”

“love is always enough, y/n,” he doesn’t give you a chance to belittle yourself, to underestimate the value of your love. you both know that you saved him, that you healed him with your very presence, your shy smiles and and the way your cheeks flushed when his lips first touched yours. “i want you to be here, to do things that you love, to not worry about money”

art knows that money can’t buy happiness, but ever since he met you, he wishes to have a chance to buy this precious piece of pure joy, to have it on the palm of his hand, to give it to you without a second thought — and when he’s ready for such things, does money really matter? do you really have to worry about it, when he only dreams about you putting your clothes in his wardrobe, leaving your makeup products on the sink in the bathroom after getting ready for your morning classes, marking the edge of his favorite mug with your lipstick?

you’re so quiet that it almost feels eerie, as if you’re not with him anymore — but then you finally break this foreign silence.

“we can try,” you whisper, and you both smile at the same time — his boyish grin, again. ”i'll call the landlady tomorrow”

trust me, just by looking at his face, it’s obvious that at this very moment he already starts thinking about rearranging his entire house to make it the perfect place for you — dressing table, secluded corner for your bookshelves, maybe even entire room just for you… well, give him some time to think about it, and he’ll make you the happiest person in the world.

thank you for supporting this idea! i hope that the result isn’t too disappointing :( just needed some emotional support from dilf art calling me a bunny, please don’t judge me for trying 🐇

[defututus]

Baggage Claim Reunion

modern!rockstar!eddie Munson x reader

masterlist

summary: Corroded Coffin is finally home after their first supporting tour in the UK and you get to pick them up.

word count: 5.3k

content warning: established relationship, fluff, more fluff, some language, references to sex and a dom/sub relationship that I'll explore at some point, overall you and Eddie are just happy to be reunited.

author's note: this came to me as I was waiting for @corroded-hellfire to pick me up from the airport when I visited her. I stewed on the idea for a little bit before deciding to write it and I'm really happy with how it turned out!

Also, I'm starting a general taglist if anyone is interested 👉👈

Indianapolis International Airport was buzzing with people in the evening. Most of the individuals walking by look like they’d rather be anywhere else right now as they slump over in the chairs waiting for their luggage or lean against the handles of their carry-on bag. It was amazing to see how some people dressed there. You saw people dressed from head to toe in new Disney merch, in their pajamas, suits, the whole nine yards. Indiana was finally blessed with a few warm days around this time of year so you drove to the airport in a sweatshirt and some pajama pants. The occasion was exciting but did not warrant dressing up since you’d be going to bed right after. You even tried to nap earlier in the day but the anticipation for today’s events kept you wide awake. Hell, you’re probably the only one at the arrivals gate full of energy as you anxiously bounce on your slippered feet waiting for the passengers of an 11-hour flight from Helsinki to return home. 

Corroded Coffin had finally made it and was invited to open up for another band on the European leg of their tour. Everyone was so ecstatic when they got the call from the band's agent and began preparing. Eddie quickly got the necessary time off from work approved (one of the perks of Wayne’s new promotion to shop manager), passports were renewed, visas expedited, and before you all could even process what was happening you waved goodbye as Corroded Coffin flew off to tour for the next month. It was hard for you to adjust to your apartment being so quiet. Eddie was always coming over to stay the night to the point that you’d joke he should just move in. Maybe you’d suggest that after dropping everyone off when they arrived home. The band would have weekly hang outs every Saturday night at your place and would sometimes culminate in a sleepover with you all sprawled out across the living room. Your head more often than not would end up on Eddie’s shoulder and his arm draped across your shoulder. It was weird to go so long without him humming a tune or tapping his fingers against something. It almost didn’t feel like home without him. 

Eddie would call you after every show and you’d spend as much time as possible catching up on each other's day before he had to go help with loading up the van and promise to call again the next day. There’s the usual back and forth about who should hang up first until one person gives in, or in some cases one of the band members takes the phone and hangs up for you guys. They don’t do it to be mean, but they all know that if they don’t do it then Eddie will make them late for load out almost every night. 

You miss Eddie’s warmth, his contagious laughter, the way he always had a corny joke or compliment when you were in a bad mood. Hell, you even missed when he was trying to be annoying. You missed every part of him and as proud as you were to see Corroded Coffin get the attention they deserved, you also wanted your best friend and boyfriend back. The distance made you realize how hard it was to function without him. Sure, he had done other tours before, but the time difference left you two with little time to chat and it made you feel lonely. Your other half was missing.

You get to the baggage claim earlier than expected, having looked up the map of the airport the night before to avoid getting lost. The universe must have sensed your desperation because there was barely any traffic during rush hour. Once you strode through the glass doors, you find the carousel everyone’s luggage would be dropped off and park yourself on a bench facing the gate. According to the boards plastered around the airport, Corroded Coffin’s grueling nonstop flight had landed and their luggage was being delivered to the baggage area, meaning your boys would be arriving soon. There’s a small food court near the baggage claim and still had plenty of time left before the guys come out, so you take the opportunity to get some food for yourself. It’s not much, settling for a quesadilla and bag of tortilla chips with queso. You’ll eat that and let the boys fight over the bag when you drive them all home.

Your phone nearly died earlier and you needed it to get home from the airport so you resort to the age-old activity of people watching to make time pass by easily. You watch exhausted families carrying their sleeping children, pilots and flight attendants heading to and from work, and count at least four adorable dogs that make you want to abandon your post waiting for the band so you can say hello to them. There was even a man who sat near you with what was possibly the funniest, most wrinkly English Bulldog you had ever seen. His name was Hank and you were so excited to tell Eddie about him when you two were finally reunited

You were so excited to see everyone – mainly Eddie – that your heart began to pound every time you saw a group of people approach the baggage claim, but found yourself immensely disappointed every time when you learned it was not Corroded Coffin. There was a surprising amount of tall white men with long brown hair. Were you being tortured? It sure felt like it.

Twenty torturous minutes later and you finally see a familiar group of people approaching the baggage area. Leading the pack is Jeff, who is chugging the last of his water and shoving it in his backpack. Grant and Gareth are passionately arguing about something with Gareth enthusiastically jumping as if the added height would help prove his point. Behind those two is a drained looking Eddie with a can of Monster in his hand and his guitar slung over his back. Eddie insisted he take the guitar as a carry-on because he didn’t trust anyone to handle it with care. The rest of the band’s equipment was being shipped back to the States and would arrive in a few weeks.

 He had changed his hair a bit before leaving for tour by getting an undercut and you never realized how much a change in hairstyle could affect his confidence levels. His self-esteem got a big boost once Corroded Coffin began to take off, but this new haircut really helped him.. The longer portion of his hair was tied back into a loose bun to show off the shaved back. You joked that he did it solely to show more of his neck to you since you had a habit of biting it. He had headphones on and wasn’t really paying attention to the argument going on in front of him, looking as exhausted as everyone else in the building, but with little more curiosity about this part of the building and the amenities that surrounded them. He wore a faded Corroded Coffin hoodie (he insisted on repping the band whenever possible) with the sleeves rolled up, exposing his tattoo sleeves and a pair of gray sweatpants, your personal favorite. Eddie was definitely dressing for comfort in this case, although you’d make the case that he looks good no matter what. He looked tired, the long flight most likely taking whatever energy he had left before the show, but somehow he looked as perfect as ever.

 Grant is the one to spot you first and waves in your direction. You throw your half-eaten meal down into the large to-go bag it came in and drop it on the floor to dart in their direction. Eddie doesn’t see you barreling over to them, instead taken by the large sculpture near the elevators. It’s not until he hears you yell, “Welcome back!” that he realizes his favorite person is finally here to take them all home that he tugs his headphones off his ears. The metalhead pushes through to the front of the group and meets you halfway to pick you up and twirl you around. He had never looked happier, all semblance of exhaustion wiped off his face the second he had you in his arms.

You’re both smiling at each other and start giggling when he spins you around. Your reunion is like something out of a movie. The world slows down around you as your attention lies solely on Eddie, his eyes, his smile, his everything. The rest of his band watches from afar to allow you both to have this moment. Eddie had a smile on their face that they didn’t see often - it was usually after a great show or whenever you two were apart and he finally saw you again. They collectively decided to keep their mouth shut about how much he’d complain about missing you. Always moaning about how he wished you were there with them, how he wished you saw what he did on stage (you have social media, you saw every second of every show), and how he missed talking to you. Eddie called you every day yet he acted like he hadn’t spoken to you in years. It was easy to just let him have his moment with you while they all waited to collect their luggage at the appropriate carousel as it began dropping out of the chute. 

Eddie’s spinning slows down until he’s just standing there with you in his arms.. He loosens his grip enough to place you down on the floor but immediately pulls you in for a tight hug. If there was one thing about Eddie that you liked to share with people, it was the fact that he gave the most amazing hugs. He would hold you so tightly you felt that he might actually break something if he were any stronger. Years of working odd jobs and later at the mechanic led to him building enough muscle so he finally filled out his shirts and could lift anything with ease. Hauling gear was easy for him, and he particularly took joy in throwing you around like a ragdoll, whether during sex or just to wrestle around and get you to laugh. Right now, it felt like he was trying to squeeze the air out of your lungs. All the love he had for you was fueling the hug’s strength. You reciprocated the embrace as much as you could, still feeling a bit giggly because your boy was finally home. Your face is buried in his neck to take in his scent. It was intoxicating. You had started using some of his shirts as pillow cases to tide you over while he was gone. Your bed usually smelled like him since he slept there most nights, but without him visiting the sheets began to lose their comforting smell. Thankfully, he already had a drawer for his stuff so you didn’t even have to ask him to give you anything. You even took one of his shirts the last time you visited his place so you could have something new.

Eddie presses a kiss to your forehead before resting his head on top of yours, almost whispering against your hair, “Oh honey, my sweet girl…,” he presses his nose to your hair to breathe you in and continues with a smile, “I missed you so much.”

His hands move from your waist to cup your cheeks after pulling away from you. There’s a moment where you two don’t say anything, just taking each other in for the first time in a month. Then, he pulls you closer to press a soft kiss to your lips. It’s not the passionate kiss you were craving all month, but you were happy to finally feel his soft lips against yours. You’re leaning into the kiss as the world disappears around you, at least until you hear someone clear their throat and you remember Eddie did not arrive here alone.

“Um, sorry, do we get a hello too?” You pull away from your boyfriend and look over to Jeff who was speaking and laugh at his request. Eddie’s gaze follows yours and he cocks a brow at his bandmate, looking absolutely pissed that his bassist dared to interrupt your moment with him, but also that Jeff wanted to take you away from him. Yes, you were good friends with the rest of the band, and yes he was sure you also missed them, but you were Eddie’s girlfriend. He wanted to hold onto you for as long as humanly possible. If he could, he’d sit in the driver’s seat and use his arms as your seatbelt when you drove home. Despite his protests, you fully let go of Eddie (to which he lets out a sad whine and follows you to the others) and give each member a greeting and a hug, asking how the flight was and making general small talk. Without any warning besides the quiet thud of his footsteps on the tile floor, Eddie moves to stand behind you and wrap his arms loosely around your waist and rest his head on your shoulder. One of your hands reaches up to scratch the back ofhis scalp and he lets out a content hum, happy to just stand here all night as long as you never stop touching him.

“So…” you begin, turning your attention to the group as a whole, “how was the trip? Did you guys get to sleep for a little bit?” You feel Eddie shift a little bit behind you, unaware of the look he’s giving his friends who just chuckle. 

Grant looks Eddie directly in the eyes and replies, “Oh, definitely. Eddie was especially quiet so it was pretty easy.” You cock an eyebrow at Grant, a little suspicious of the claim since the Eddie you know, the Eddie who sleeps in your bed most days, is a known sleep talker and never shuts the hell up when he’s awake. There was never a quiet moment with him. This was especially the case now, given how Eddie hasn’t spoken since he held you. Usually he’d be going on and on about every thought that went through his head during the plane flight or things that happened between your last phone call and now. 

“I’m sorry, but I wasn’t aware that Eddie had a mute button. Where is it? Does he have a new secret freckle that I don’t know about? ” You point a finger in your boyfriend’s face while questioning the others. Eddie, taking the opportunity to get another laugh out of you, leans in and tries to playfully nip at your finger but you just move your hand away when he does so. He’s still silent and you’re becoming more suspicious of him by the second.

Jeff walks over, having gone to the nearest trash can to dispose of his empty bottle. He adjusts the backpack on his shoulder before replying, “Well, someone lost their voice last night at the end of the show.” The other two boys laugh and Gareth pulls his phone out to seemingly provide evidence for Eddie’s actions as Jeff continues on, “He was invited on stage for the last song of the night with the headliner It was fucking sick. The gutturals? Disgusting. ” 

Gareth hands his phone over to you with a video from Tiktok pulled up. You kept TikTok open throughout the night to watch everything unfold live, but somehow missed this part of the night. Maybe this was when you were trying to sleep or went on a cleaning spree. 

Like Jeff said, it was the last song of the night and they called Eddie on stage. The metalhead is sweaty from his previous performance but looks like he could go on all night if he had the chance. He has a smile on his face that fills your heart with pride, his joy only growing when the audience begins to cheer even more than they were before once he came on stage.  Eddie is still in his stage outfit and makeup, some smoky red eyeshadow, wearing a half buttoned up button-down shirt, distressed jeans, and his favorite combat boots. The unbuttoned shirt revealed sections of his tattoos and his two necklaces - one with your first initial on it and the other was his new lucky guitar pick. His original has been hanging around your neck for around two years now. You were sure the comments were flooded with people fawning over his looks, they always are. 

The two walk up to center stage as the band plays the first notes. You can almost feel the energy of the room just by watching the video. Everyone in the audience begins cheering. Everyone knows the lyrics and they all scream along with the two men on stage. The first notes of the song begin to play and the two vocalists make it to center stage before they start singing. Eddie has one foot up on the stage risers as he belts out the lyrics.

All in with a losing hand

The sun sets on a wanted man

No spine, born without a backbone

Two-faced, too late for a tombstone

 His screams are most akin to a deep growl from the back of his throat. He tried his best over the years to improve his guttural screams without damaging his throat, but maybe last night he got so excited that he forgot to take all the precautionary steps he took to prevent any damage. 

Eddie nods at this and speaks up as much as he’s able to and says, “I got carried away and fucked up. I could feel the damage happening maybe halfway through the song but there was no way I was gonna stop.”

 Jeff nods, muttering under his breath, “And you’re the one always lecturing us about proper technique…” Eddie huffs and raises a ringed middle finger to his bassist who did the only reasonable thing and gave Eddie one back.

You take a little pity on Eddie because he’s clearly annoyed at himself for doing this and how he hurt himself. You turn to him to peck his lips while soothingly rubbing his shoulders. Your touch is already making him feel better. All he wants to do is go home and snuggle up to you in order to make up for lost time. From behind you, there’s some muffled comments being made by the boys, including a sarcastic ‘I can never get over how whipped he is for her…’ coming from Gareth. Eddie tears his eyes from you to Gareth and hoarsely remarks, “At least I have a girlfriend.” It’s barely audible to them, given the condition of his voice and the overall noise levels of the airport, but they’re able to decipher what he said by lip reading. The reactions are mixed. Grant fakes offense, Jeff scoffs, and Gareth flips him off. Then, the younger man gets an idea. 

“You know…”, Gareth says, readjusting the bag hanging off one shoulder with a sly smile on his face, something you notice right away when you turn to look at him, “I’ve actually been acting as his interpreter. I’m pretty good.”

Your boyfriend scoffs and croaks out to Gareth, “No the fuck you’re not.”

Instantly, Gareth replies, “What’s that? You’re indefinitely appointing me as the new frontman? Aww, thanks man! I really appreciate that you trust me with the band!” Eddie shakes his head and is about to walk past you and try to knock some sense into his drummer, mainly because he’s tired and just wants to go home, but you’re still holding onto his shoulder so he stays put. He’s pursing his lips and is clearly ticked off by Gareth, which seems to have been his goal. Most of the time, Eddie could put up with Gareth’s shenanigans, but you swore that every time they went on tour Eddie would come back needing a break from him. He needed a break from everyone, really. That’s what was so great about this job. You’re stuck in a tiny van with them with zero time by yourself and once you get home you can just avoid them until you can bear to look at their faces again. They didn’t schedule a Hellfire session next week for this exact reason. Eddie didn’t want to hear any of their voices or look at them for a while. Hell, he wanted to forget the guys even existed. His plan was to spend time with you, spend time in you, and spend time catching up on his sleep… with you

He’s sick of standing here, he’s sick of the clothes he’s wearing, he’s sick of being awake. Eddie grabs his suitcase from the small pile of luggage that made up their belongings and said to you, “I wanna go home.” He pulls the handle up and takes your hand to begin walking towards the exit. You couldn’t understand what he was saying seconds ago and found the perfect opportunity to poke fun at him.

“Oh yeah, I’d love to watch Titanic when we get home! We can do a fun romance movie marathon!.”

Eddie stops in his tracks and spins to look at you. Did you not hear him correctly? Is his voice that messed up? It’s only when you’ve got the same shit-eating grin on your face that Gareth is wearing that Eddie realizes you’re just messing with him. He gives you the same glare he previously gave the rest of the band and lets go of you before turning to leave the building. You let Eddie take a few steps by himself before shouting out, “You’re going in the wrong direction!”

Eddie groans and turns around again. You and the boys are laughing and all decide it’s finally time to get going. Your boyfriend strode in the other direction to the other exit, one hand on his luggage and the other grabbing your hand again as he passed. You’re laughing even more now and follow him to the elevator leading to the parking garage. Everyone else follows behind and you all make your way upstairs and to your car.

All the bags are packed into the back and the boys into the seats. Eddie immediately claimed the front passenger seat to avoid being sandwiched between the other three, but it gave him the opportunity to hold onto you more. Once everyone was buckled in and ready you began the hour long drive from Indianapolis to Hawkins. There was some chatter at the beginning, but as time went on the chatter morphed into a loud conversation about god knows what. You kept your focus on the road in order to get everyone home as fast as possible. Your patience was beginning to wear thin so you couldn’t imagine how Eddie was feeling. Their loud comments were almost enough to drown out the car radio and the other vehicles whizzing past you on the highway. 

The entire time, Eddie kept one hand on your thigh. Neither of you had the energy for sex right now, but you couldn’t deny that his touch wasn’t getting you a little hot and bothered. You were used to satiating each other's urges whenever you had the chance so you had a month's worth of desires and urges to let out with him. When the time came for him to leave for tour, he made you promise not to touch yourself because ‘you can’t play with something that belongs to him’. You could have easily gone against his wishes, it was all for fun, but it just made his homecoming all the more exciting. His hands were warm and the heat went right through your jeans. He would squeeze your leg sometimes when you stopped and sometimes rub the inside of your thigh with his thumb. 

You drop everyone off at their respective homes and heave a sigh of relief once it’s just you and Eddie in the car. You love those guys, you really do, but sometimes when they’re all together in the same room (or in this case, car) they all start acting like lunatics. Your only saving grace was the fact that they all wore seatbelts and Eddie, the usual instigator of their chaos, was quiet and drained of all his energy. 

As you begin the drive to your apartment, you lower the radio volume until it’s merely background noise.  Eddie takes his hand away from your thigh and crosses his arms as he makes himself more comfortable. He even pulls his hoodie up to keep warm

You lived two towns over so the drive would be twenty minutes until you both could finally go to sleep. Out of the corner of your eye you see Eddie moving to recline the passenger seat a little bit and shut his eyes. 

“Get some rest, baby. We’ll be home soon.”

There was never a discussion about where he’d be staying the night, you just assumed he would be sleeping here. It was a peaceful, quiet drive. A few minutes after he got comfortable you heard his even, heavy breathing and smiled at how quickly he fell asleep. He tired himself out after that last show. Eventually, you roll into your complex’s parking lot and slow to a stop in your designated area. Once the car is off, you take one of Eddie’s hands and give it a squeeze to wake him up. His eyes flutter open and you give him a warm smile. He blearily rubs his eyes and slowly ambles out of the car. You grab his luggage and he picks up his guitar case to sling over his shoulder.  Once he’s out and all his belongings are out of the car, you go over to him and hold your hand out which he happily takes. It’s a short walk from your car but takes a little longer than normal thanks to everything you two are lugging and how sluggish your boyfriend is moving. Thankfully, the temperature wasn’t dipping too low so neither of you were in a hurry. Eventually you get to the front door of your apartment. Neither of you speak on the walk over, but it’s a comfortable silence so neither of you try to fix that. 

The door finally opens after you fight the lock for what feels like an eternity. Eddie sighs when he steps inside. He sets his guitar case down on the sofa and you put his luggage down next to the front door. You kick off your slippers as he leans against the couch to bend over and pull his sneakers off. Once those are off, he begins stripping down in the living room without saying a word. Eddie pulls his hoodie over his head and is followed by the Metallica shirt he wore underneath. Then, he pulls off his sweatpants to reveal… nothing else.

“Ed, honey, did you really take an 11-hour flight without underwear?”

Eddie turns to you as he takes his hair down out of the ponytail he was wearing. He runs his fingers through his hair and scratches at his scalp to relieve the tension from having his hair up for that long. Your beautiful boyfriend stands in the middle of your living room, completely drained and fully nude in front of the open living room window. Eddie looks at you and tiredly answers, “I didn’t feel like wearing them” like it’s completely normal. He’s beyond the point of holding a regular conversation. The dim lighting doesn’t help to hide the bags under his eyes. This would be a conversation to be held in the morning.

You sigh and shake your head at him. He’s bending over to pick his clothes up and you get a full view of his ass, and you won’t complain. It’s a great view. So great that you go over and give it a little tap. You don’t have the energy to give it a full-on smack, something else to tackle tomorrow. Eddie turns and has a small smile on his face. He takes the shirt in his hand and throws it at your face. You hate to admit it smells amazing - it’s a little more sweaty than the shirts he usually gives you since he was stuck in a cramped plane for eleven hours, but that was what somehow made it smell better. He picks up his laundry (minus the shirt) and carries it into your room. Your eyes are scanning his body as he walks inside. The only light source in the room is your bedside lamp, so there’s even less light in there. He’s half hard despite the exhaustion over the past 24 hours and you make a mental note to yourself to wake him up with a blowjob, he always loves that. All his dirty clothing is tossed onto the designated laundry chair, now a mix of your dirty clothes and his, before he flops down onto the bed on his stomach. He’s sprawled out like a starfish and groans when he hits the bed, burying his face in your pillows. It gives you the opportunity to ogle him more, the skeleton wings on his back and the bite mark that you gave him that he permanently tattooed onto the side of his neck. It’s the closest thing you guys had to matching couple tattoos - he had a bite from you on his neck, and you had his on your inner thigh. He was perfect.

You take the time to remove your clothing and strip down like Eddie did earlier. He turns his head a bit to watch you. His eyes trace your curves as the clothing falls off and is placed on the growing mountain in the corner. Once you’re properly undressed, he turns his head back to your pillows so he could  take in your fragrance again. The mix of your shampoo, soap, and natural scent was better than any drug.

“God, I’m fucking exhausted…”

You tiptoe over to the side of the bed and sit down next to him, moving a lock of curly hair away from his face so you can look at him more. He has a sleepy smile on his face, and it’s obvious that he’s on the verge of falling asleep. You reply, “Mm, I bet. Did you have fun?” 

The metalhead nods his head and takes your hand in his to kiss the back of it. Eddie missed a lot of things. He missed the smell of your bedsheets, your warmth when he woke up to your body curled up next to his, the long nights spent in bed just laughing and talking until one of you fell asleep. With his lips pressed against your hand, he mutters, “Yes, but I’m happy to be home…”

He called your apartment home. There was already a mix of his belongings in here besides his clothing so it would make sense that it felt like home to him. The question keeps flying around in your head, but again, it’s a conversation for tomorrow. Your blankets were calling your name, especially with this angel of a man under them. You reach to your bedside table and turn the light off with a soft click, the streetlights outside barely illuminating the room now. Eddie holds the sheets open for you as you tiredly climb inside. The last of your energy leaves your body the moment your head hits the pillow. A pair of strong arms encircle you again and pull you close so your chests are pressed together. You nuzzle him and give him a little kiss before whispering, “Goodnight, Eddie. Get some sleep.”

You two are both out within ten minutes.

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taglist:

@ainelantv

[foxirori]

~

Sorry I know too much and like sharing. It's very possible that the older homes are not just full of mold due to poorly controlled moisture in basements (and ventilation), but super drafty because they didn't even know about air sealing - so you're right on the money about holes causing whistling. Creaking because they weren't built to brace against the wind they ended up having, since we build to minimum standards as capitalism has been our way of life for hundreds of years. Boilers DEFINTELY make a shit ton of noise through creaking (metal reacting) radiators around the pipes, and then the unit, especially older oil ones. Gas furnaces, however, found in newer homes, also make a shit ton of noise through the ducts. You may not know

That air sealing is a newly understood important technique that keeps the interior walls of our homes from being cold/hot from air traveling to/from the attic or basement. Pretty much stuffing foam (anything non porous that fills the cracks) in the wall top gaps where the top plate wood has two sides of drywall, or around the wooden sills & rim joists of the foundation of the basement. Wind pressure sends air through our homes if we don't do this, so a lot of cold spots were due to that shit.

As for carbon monoxide, new homes are more likely to have that problem because they are sealed tight to be more energy efficient. Although ventilation is now mandated and basements are more water tight, the problem of air quality has become more drastically at risk with minimal code about it in the modern days (imo). All that's required is a constant running bath fan and a CO detector on each floor. I've seen new ovens put off way more CO than older ovens (unless they haven't been cleaned).

By 1978 (usa at least, probably earlier in europe) insulation was mandated to fill the wall of a home (at least in MA, where I worked and had to know this). 2014 to 2018 has seen the implementation mandated air sealing in progressive states.

Sadly, however, The toxicity is more recent and ongoing than we like to talk about. The building codes have massively overhauled, but out of mandated safety concerns and fire codes more than anything, with a little energy efficiency because our monopoly conglomerate energy mega-corporations want to burn less fuel. Up until 1990 asbestos was coming out of the mine in USA selling vermiculite and there is still a class action lawsuit that anyone can send a sample in for testing to get a grant that could help remove this toxic rocky insulation from their home. Asbestos has been re-legalized by the trump administration in 2016 and it is unknown to me how embedded in materials it is/will be. Sure, VOC and lead is possible to avoid, but it's been a thin window of time we've known this.

Cellulose that is now a huge amount of the insulation we use (i've recommended its use), is coated in borax which is toxic to life and meant to repel rodents and pests as well as be fire retardant. -itchy

Fiberglass also makes me itch and its literally tiny (fibers of) glass coated in a resin made from oil, you know, petroleum, that shit from the ground that we need to stop using. Yet fiberglass is everywhere despite being very comparable in price to recycled cotton / cellulose (similar), and not much cheaper than wool / mineral wool (also not the same), all of which are better than fiberglass. I warn people about touching it and sending it airborn, how seriously you should be geared up beforehand and running a filter/washing your clothes several times after. I will never get rid of the itchy feeling after working with it for years.

~

I wouldn't buy a haunted house.

I don't believe in ghosts, but I do believe in mold and carbon monoxide.

[chdarling]

Frequently Asked Questions

Hi friends, I've decided to turn my ask box off for a while. This is not in response to any specific ask or any drama, I just can't keep up right now, and I continually feel guilty receiving asks I don't have the energy to answer. I've decided that guilt is not so great for my mental health right now, so I'm taking a wee break and figured I'd post some answers to some of the questions I receive the most.

Snippets and Spoilers can be found here.

***

When will TLE3 be released?

I don't have an exact date, but it probably won't be in 2025. I am giving myself the space and time to write TLE3 at my own pace and pleasure, and I plan to have a full draft finished before I start publishing on AO3. I promise when it's ready, you'll be the first to know.

***

Can I print TLE?

Please do not print TLE using any commercial printing service, as this is not legal (at least in the US, which is where I am). If you are printing and binding it yourself solely for personal use and in a manner that is 100% in compliance with copyright law – aka no one at any point in the process can make any money off of it – then I personally am fine with it (and very honored!). However, I cannot give approval for anything that infringes copyright law in any way. Thank you for understanding! I don't want to be sued!

***

Can I translate/create a podfic/create fanart for TLE?

I would be so unbelievably honored! I give a blanket approval for translations, podfics, and fanart, and I'm so, so touched that you would take the time to do this. I just ask that you ONLY post to AO3* and to please mark it as a related work so it's linked to the original. I may be slow to approve the AO3 email linking the fics, but I promise I will! Thank you!!

*except fanart, obviously. Do whatever you want with that. Although if you post it on tumblr, I would LOVE to see it. <3

***

Are you on any other social media sites?

No. I am ONLY on Tumblr, AO3, and the TLE discord. I don’t even use social media in my personal life, so don't try to find me! I'm not there!

***

Do you have fanfic recommendations?

I’m sorry, but I am not a good resource for this. I haven't actually read much fanfic as I spend most of my limited free time writing it. However, I always recommend checking out @jilyawards for a fantastic collection of the incredible talent in this fandom over the years.

***

Do you take requests for one shots/other fics?

No, sorry. I have my hands more than full with TLE.

***

Do you take suggestions for the plot of TLE?

No, sorry. I have the story pretty tightly plotted from beginning until the (very) end, and while I occasionally swerve down new creative alleys, I’m very committed to sticking to my original plan.

***

Is [super specific spoilery thing] going to happen in TLE?

You are of course welcome to ask, but I am almost certainly going to shout “SPOILERS!” and run away cackling.

***

You say this is a canon fic but [super specific thing that I don’t agree with] is included. What gives?

For the purposes of TLE, ‘canon’ means the original seven books. Everything else is dressing. I do include as canon a lot of the lore JKR provided in interviews while the books were being published (for example, James being a Chaser), however I tend to view all post-book authorial additions as mostly optional. I do use a fair amount of Pottermore in my story, but I do not keep up with new HP material, so it’s impossible to stay up to date with everything. For example, I tweaked the Animagus process somewhat to my liking as opposed to what is described in Pottermore. This is partly because I already had my version sketched out before that was published, and mostly because I did not like what was given on Pottermore.

I do not consider any of the films canon. If this alleged HBO show happens, I will not consider that canon. Video game? Not canon. I also simply do not know what the words ‘Cursed Child’ mean, as I am pretty sure this is from an alternate timeline in which I do not exist. Tra la la. :)

All of this to say: The seven books are the framework. However, I feel pretty strongly that within that framework there is room for many, many interpretations – particularly with regards to the Marauders era, about which we know so little. Just because my headcanon or characterization is different from yours (or vice versa!) doesn’t make it less canon. Similarly, just because something is not explicitly described in the seven books, doesn’t mean it is against canon for it to have happened in the background, unnoticed by Harry, or before the timeline of the seven books starts. See: Wolfstar.

***

Wait, there’s wolfstar in TLE?

Yes. There will be wolfstar in the series. I did tag it from day one, please stop sending me shocked and horrified messages! (lol) Because people have such strong feelings about this ship, I always feel the need to give my little disclaimer: There will be wolfstar. Personally, I love it and am excited to write it. However, if you are a fan of exclusively fluffy, happy wolfstar, you might be disappointed. If you are interested in exploring the fraught, occasionally toxic relationship between two angsty, repressed, and deeply traumatized young men during an escalating war…strap in, gird your loins, etc. We're gonna have some fun.

***

Why do you have two blogs?

Because I'm dumb. Because I didn’t know how tumblr worked when I started this whole nonsense and thought that a side blog sounded like a good idea…aaaaand then pretty much immediately regretted it. This was back before you could reply from a sideblog, so everything was a mess. I'm an archivist at heart, so I can't bring myself to delete @chdarling-tle but I almost exclusively use @chdarling these days. Feel free to only follow that one, unless you only want chapter updates and none of my silly reblogs, in which case @chdarling-tle is here for you. Otherwise it's pretty dead over there.

(ok, confession: this actually isn't a frequently asked question at all, but I shoved it in here anyway because the two blog thing annoys the shit out of me and I wanted to give some context for my disorganization. I meant well, once upon a time!!!)

***

Do you have a Patreon?

I’m amazed and flattered that I’ve been asked this enough to include it in an FAQ, but no, I do not. While I am so appreciative that people want to support this project, TLE is a work of fanfiction, created entirely out of and for love, and is in no way a commercial endeavor. I do not make a penny off of this project. I almost certainly lose pennies to this project. But that's okay! Because of the aforementioned love! And, once again, my deep and enduring desire to not be sued!

(One day I do hope to share some original writing, and if you feel so compelled, you may absolutely pay me for that, but I'm not quite there yet. 😉)

***

Ok but seriously when will TLE3 be released?

(sorry I couldn't resist)

***

Ok that's all I can think of right now. Thank you so much as always for your enthusiasm and support. My closed ask box is in no way a commentary on my appreciation for this community, I'm just very, very tired.

lots of love, CH

[theambitiouswoman]

Our relationships are mirrors, our attachment to others are our wounds ( & how to let go)

Our attachment to others comes from avoid they fill that we haven't learned to fill ourselves

If we seek validation, it’s because we aren’t fully validating ourselves

If we fear being alone, it’s because we aren’t comfortable with our own presence

If we cling to romantic love, it’s often because we aren’t giving ourselves enough self love

Healthy connections comes from a place of wholeness, not lack —not to complete each other, or for others to build what we are lacking for us, but to complement each other

Our unhealthy connections act as mirrors that reveal the wounds, insecurities and needs we have not met that we may not have fully acknowledged yet

A relationship that triggers abandonment fears may show us where we lack self trust or emotional security

A friendship that makes us feel unworthy may highlight our need for self validation rather than external approval

A connection that drains us might indicate where we struggle with boundaries and self respect

We assume that confidence is all encompassing, but it’s not. You can be confident in your career but insecure in relationships, or secure in friendships but struggle with self worth in romantic settings. Every trigger is a lesson, pointing us to the areas within ourselves that need healing

So how do you build self validation to not be codependent , know our value and not look for the approval of others? The more you validate yourself, the less you’ll rely on others to do it for you.

Start asking yourself: What am I seeking from this person that I’m not giving myself?

Separate your value from external factors. Your worth is not based on your looks, achievements, relationships, or how others treat you

Affirm yourself daily. Start your morning with affirmations like:

I am enough as I am

I do not need external validation to feel worthy

My voice and feelings matter

Acknowledge your strengths. Keep a journal of things you’re proud of, even small wins

Learn to enjoy your own company—take yourself out, do things you love, and embrace solitude

Develop hobbies, passions and interests that bring you fulfillment, ALONE

Listen to your own needs. Ask yourself: What do I need right now? and give it to yourself, whether it’s rest, creativity or emotional support

Notice when you’re craving validation. Pause and ask, Why do I need this person’s approval? What am I not giving myself?

Detach from praise and criticism. Your value does not increase with compliments or decrease with criticism

Make decisions based on your own desires, not what others will think. Practice asking yourself, What do I truly want?

Stop over-explaining or justifying yourself. You don’t need to prove why you feel a certain way or why you deserve something

Say no without guilt. Saying no is an act of self respect, not selfishness

Don’t make other people your emotional crutch. Learn to self soothe through journaling, meditation etc rather than relying on others to regulate your emotions.

Figure out where your need for validation comes from. Is it childhood wounds? Fear of abandonment? A past relationship that made you feel unworthy?

Practice inner child work. Imagine your younger self and give her the love, encouragement, and safety she needed but didn’t receive.

Choose people who value you without conditions. If you feel like you constantly have to prove yourself in a relationship, it’s time to reassess

Let go of toxic relationships that drain your energy or make you feel unworthy reinforce codependency

Learn to receive love without needing it. Enjoy healthy relationships but don’t depend on them for your sense of self

Make decisions with confidence. Don’t second guess yourself or look for reassurance

Follow your intuition. The more you listen to yourself, the stronger your self trust becomes

In short: When you learn to appreciate yourself and prove your worth to yourself, you stop seeking validation from others. Self appreciation means recognizing your own value without needing external praise

Proving your worth to yourself means setting personal goals, achieving them for your own satisfaction & knowing you are enough—regardless of how others perceive you

When you do this, relationships become a choice, not a need & you attract healthier, more fulfilling connections

[shiningmystic]

"Why Are Things just Not Working Out for Me?" PAC

Pile 1: Cottage front I Pile 2: Shell

Pile 3: Pocket watch I Pile 4: Stress

Hello Stars, I hope this finds the people who are struggling. This pick a card provides practical advice and attempts at validation for your pain. We all are struggling so be kind to your neighbor and to yourself. Close your eyes and pick a number or a picture from your minds eye. Do not be afraid to pick more then one picture if you connect to it. Not every message in every pile is for you so take what resonates and leave what does not.

If you appreciate the reading and it resonated, drop a follow and a like, reblog this post or, if you want to take it a step further, support me on ko-fi.

Ko-fi I Shmfeedback I Get to know me

Thank you for your consideration and kindness, I truly hope this general pick a card reading helps you.

Pile 1: page of swords (rx), king of swords (rx), the hanged man, four of wands (rx), two of coins (rx) page of wands

Key phrases: missed opportunities, stuck in a uncomfortable place, no more room to grow, too much to take on, I must be free, lack of responsibility

So to begin your reading I would like to say a lot of our beliefs are not our own fault. Why am I mentioning this? Because you my pile one believe in something that you may not think you do. There are many beliefs here so I cannot pinpoint what is personally holding you but it is there. We learn a lot from the people around us as we grow older, friends and family alike even insignificant peoples opinions can influence our view of ourselves and the world. You may believe there is no way out when it takes a whole lot of work to change that perspective just as much as it takes to change this problem. You are in an environment (or once were) that held no growth or comfort for you. You were always put to work or walking on egg shells to get things done in your home.

This environment puts the belief in you that there is no better place to go or to be so manifestations and attempts to change have felt hopeless but you must recognize your contribution to this belief. For many their is a specific belief that was instilled in you that holds you to be right. That if you are wrong the people who are right deserve the opportunities more than you do. These thoughts hold a charge that only stops you from moving forward. Not everyone is always right. Even experts can be false.

I’m here to say that it is not helpless and the first thing to do is to move out of an environment that may be oppressing you, even if it is your own thought patterns. Always challenge those judgments even if they feel like you have a correct analysis of a situation, they aren’t fully right. Sometimes a familiar environment gives way to us repeating past actions that may not align with us now but we are wired to repeat patterns, our brains do this to preserve energy. Stop assuming the worst, stop judging yourself because you deserve space to grow and learn. You deserve grace, you deserve a space to keep learning even if you know better; it’s hard to shake off what we have always done.

If you can change your environment in some way this will help you get out of the need to repeat state; maybe even making it a routine to go to a friends house or just out. Then from there you need to surround yourself with the new belief you want to implement. Do you want to build more independence? Slowly make choices that align with that, small ones first and take your time until your belief in yourself shifts. It’s hard to notice but that’s why we have people around us to help. If you have only yourself it may be hard to gauge but you are changing with every step you take. You are not stuck to the tree like the hanged man, you can free yourself from the confines if we actively challenge those set beliefs. Keep challenging the norm and you and your subconscious will start catching on to this change. Things will start working out more as you begin this process. You are not your mistakes or judgments, you are the human being who is witnessing the judgments and having the choice to internalize them or challenge them.

Pile 2: the world (rx), six of cups (rx), page of coins (rx), the high priestess (rx), seven of cups

Key phrases: my comforts aren’t helping, I see no way forward, there are too many options that I’m frozen in place, my intuition isn’t working, the world is against me

I see pile 2 that you are stuck in a repeating cycle. This seems to be about the past and holding onto something from the past that does not serve the you that you are becoming. There is an aspect of bad luck as well so if you feel like things are against you I see why, you're so valid. I also get the feeling that many of you know exactly why things aren’t working out but it’s just nice to hear someone agree with you.

This transition you are going through is a big one that expands over a long period of time. For many this is about healing and feeling in control of your life when it has been controlled by others. Now that you have claimed your power back it’s like you are now fighting yourself and the world; that's very scary. Sometimes we can’t be in control of everything even our own emotions. So what do we do from here? The advice I see is to not overthink why this is happening (if you can try to catch yourself overthinking then it will help but I understand how overthinking can be involuntary sometimes) and ask what you can do now instead of what could happen or what could go wrong. The why may be clear but to some it is vague.

For others I see that being to analytical, logical and critical will not help you at this time. There seems to be so many issues in the world and so much stressors no wonder why things are not working out, you're putting all that burden and pressure on yourself when one person cannot take that all on. These past habits are being released weather you liked them or not and it WILL overall benefit you to be able to accept it but its ok if you can't right now.

Trust yourself in making choices even if it feels to risky and if things continue to not work out the world won’t end or stop moving; the scales always go back into balance. The possibilities are endless for you and it’s ok to pick the one option you feel less hostile towards. Cycles do have an end and you are getting out of it, I promise you. You are learning at your pace so give yourself some grace like I had said in the last pile. (I didn't mean to rhyme but there you go haha).

Pile 3: queen of swords, 9 of wands (rx), knight of pentacles, page of pentacles, queen of pentacles

Key phrases: I may be in control but I’m tired of it, I just want to lay around and do nothing, everything is so slow I want to give up, I love what I do but how do I stay motivated?

So for you pile 3 I see that things aren’t working out for you because there is impatience and judgment of the process. I see for some, you think you should be in a better place by now with all your knowledge and specialties. For others of you, there is this burnt out feeling and you hate that you keep getting burnt out when all you desire is to be stable; to be in a place where you feel secure in yourself and your work or school. You feel off balance and there are peoples opinions and conditioning swirling around your head and not realizing that this is what is holding you down.

You are the one living your life and if you must take it slower then listen to your body not your brain who always thinks it knows what is best for you. Listen to your feelings. I’m not saying to ignore your logic and I am also not saying to ignore deadlines especially if you have to work on projects but you need to be more understanding with your limits and how your limits may be pushed a lot with you own expectations and demands.

I think some of you know this and are trying to find the balance but most here are ignoring the fact that every part of you has to have a say. Your body, mind and emotions are all in need of balancing to reach a place of peace so things may start feeling like they are going your way again. These expectations of yourself should be motivation, not something to hold above your head and to use against you.

Just know that with patience and understanding things will get better, take this advice and find a good balance of rest and work which may not be favorable right now but when it can be done make the shift. You deserve kindness at this time and slowness. Finish what needs to get done now but after take some time to relax and gather yourself. Heal then get back up, life will start going your way again.

Pile 4: 7 of swords, 2 of wands, queen of cups, knight of pentacles, 4 of wands (rx), the fool

Key phrases: I want to pave my own way, ambitious but anxious, taking things slow makes me feel like I’m going no where, no room to grow where I am now, I want to take risks but is that the right choice?

I think for you pile 4 you may be knowingly sabotaging your plans in fear of losing your freedom. Wow that’s some heavy stuff but I understand where you are coming from. Right now you may be able to do what you want but the things you truly desire to cultivate may have to take a lot of time and effort to really build up; that takes sacrifice. For some of you, you don’t want to lose your freedom doing whatever you desire in the moment which make a lot of sense.

You guys follow your happiness but sometimes our true desires and happiness are actually aligned with working and discipline. It is hard my loves, to let go of what you have to get to what you really want but that’s why things aren’t working out for you (this kinda reminds me of pile 2 but you guys are way more specific). You don’t want to let go because you think you will lose it when really it will always be there its just acknowledging you need to sacrifice some of your free time for the future, not all of it but some.

Sometimes we have to work on a dream for it to come true. Some of us who have been through trauma or neglectful childhoods can’t find the motivation for future plans because our brains are wired to focus on “what can I do right now to make myself feel better?” Then the latter “what should I be working on so my future is better?” It’s ok if you don’t have that issue, some of us are just wired differently. You my pile 4 are just more wired to please yourself right now then to please your future self but oh golly will your future self appreciate your efforts.

The advice I see is at least doing one thing in your day that will contribute to your goals but then you can also have the benefits of your comforts as well so you don’t feel like you are bored all day working on something that is for the future. Who knows maybe you will feel amazing doing this work and find joy in it. Your future self and current self deserve a plan, don’t let your dreams be forgotten because you can’t find the time. Take 1 hour out of your day and that’s it, to dedicate it to your dreams. You deserve happiness now and in the future love.

[lightsoutmatthews]

"I´m just so tired." - Joseph Woll

summary: student teaching is draining all the energy from you, luckily your boyfriend is there to support you every step of the way.

Pairing: Joseph Woll x female!reader

word count: 2.1k

warnings: none, mostly fluff maybe a little angst

authors notes:

this was inspired by my own student teacher placement a few months ago, luckily I had a much better experience than the reader

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

You leaned your head against the cool material of the front door as soon as you stepped foot into the apartment. The quiet that loomed over the place a strong contrast to the chaos and loud noise you had experienced at school the entire day.

You knew your boyfriend was still at the rink, getting some work done with the trainers after lunch with some of his teammates. At the moment you were thankful for it. Speaking being the last thing you wanted to do right now.

It was the second to last week of your placement as a student teacher in a middle school a few blocks from where you lived, and you were exhausted. You knew it would be a stressful time, especially, since this was the first time you would stand in front of a class after being in university for years but the responsibilities your mentor teacher put on you aside from basically running her class the last two weeks were piling up and becoming too much.

You were looking forward to spring break in a few weeks, you and Joseph having booked a quick getaway to a sunny island during the NHLs four nations break, you just had to get trough the next weeks. Keeping your head up, accepting everything that would be thrown at you from the school administration, university and your mentor teacher.

Thinking about how she asked you to plan an outdoor day for the seventh grade in the middle of winter a freezing city like Toronto made your head hurt. “Just to get the students active, you know.” She said, an almost evil grin on her face. “It will be a fun goodbye for them.” She added, smirking even more.

Where you would find an outdoor activity where the students wouldn’t complain about freezing 15 minutes in you didn’t know but you had to come up with something over the weekend.

Slowly you put your bag down next to the wardrobe in the hallway and took of your shoes and jacket before letting out a loud sigh. There were some chores you still had to do, things you put off for days because you were so busy planning lessons all day when you were not at school, but you simply could not motivate yourself to do it right now. Just the thought made you want to cry.

Instead, you slumped down on the couch, closing your eyes, trying to keep the tears from spilling. This wasn’t the first time you thought about quitting the whole thing, maybe teaching wasn’t the job you actually wanted to do for the rest of your life. But then you saw the smile on the students faces when you did a fun activity with them, or when you took the time to acknowledge their needs and helped them to understand what you talked about and there was nothing you would rather do in your life than see this for the rest of it.

The tears started to spill over the rims of your eyes when you thought about how you should not rest and rather start to look up activities for next week, but it was like you lost all ability to move. Your head pounded and shivers ran over your arms even though it was fairly warm in the apartment.

The quiet being too much and not enough at the same time. You were longing for the arms of your boyfriend who would rub your back and tell you everything would be alright. Unfortunately, you had no idea when he would be home.

Time passed like it was frozen, minutes felt like hours. The tears kept running down your cheeks, quiet sobs leaving your mouth every now and then.

You didn’t even register when the front door opened, multiple voices filling the living space. With closed eyes you took a deep breath. Dealing with Josephs teammates was the last thing you wanted to do right now, as much as you loved them, but you were ready to put on the face of the perfect hostess, just like always.

“Guys, I´m sorry but you need to leave.” The words barely reached your ears. Confused mumbles from the hallway before a familiar voice quietly said something you could not quite make out. Shortly after the apartment was quiet again, apart from the sounds of your boyfriend hanging up his jacket.

His footsteps heavy on the wooden floor of your apartment. His scent – a mix of his usual body wash and a hint of cinnamon – filling your nose before he was in your line of sight. The worry on his face was unmistakable.

You registered that he was speaking to you, but you ears felt they were filled with cotton balls. Tuning out most of his words.

His soft touch on your arm made you jump, which made him back off immediately. “Sweetheart.” He mumbles; his words finally being registered by your brain. When you didn’t reply he simply sat down on the couch and gave you space.

The both of you sat in silence for a bit, you still silently crying. You knew it was killing him to not pull you into his arms and try to calm you down. His twitching hands being an indication that he was close to breaking and reaching out to you, but he knew you better than to get into your space when you didn’t want it.

When you eventually reached your hand out and interlinked his with yours, he grabbed your arm and pulled you into his chest, wrapping his strong arms around you in a comforting cocoon. His right hand softly brushing over your back, the other one holding you close to his chest. “What happened at school today?” He whispered, his mouth close to your ear.

It took you a few deep breaths to calm yourself down before you managed to speak, your hands were trembling, and your breathing was short from the minutes of crying. “I´m just so tired, Joe.”  An even more worried frown mixed with a hint of understanding appeared on his face, while you buried your face in his shoulder, trying not to break out in tears again.

He grabbed your face with both hands and softly made you look at him. When he wiped your tears away and softly started rubbing your cheeks your heart melted at the tender action. “Oh, sweetheart.” He whispered. “Please tell me what happened, how can I make it better?” His fixer personality trait coming through again made you hiccup whimper.

“It´s all too much.” You mumbled. “My mentor teacher is the meanest woman I have ever come across, she has me running her class for the past two weeks while she relaxes in the teachers’ lounge during the lesson. Now she wants me to find an outdoor activity that lasts for multiple hours for next Thursday, in the middle of freaking winter in Canada.” You slammed your hand on the couch, one of the decorative pillows falling to the floor because of the force. “I´m supposed to learn from her, not be her stand in.” You spit before slumping down on the couch again.

“At the same time, I´m so behind on household chores, I haven’t folded laundry in four days, I haven’t taken the trash out or dusted. When I get home in the afternoon, I am too tired. I feel bad for leaving it all hanging, I don’t want to burden you with it during your busy schedule.” He leaned back and looked at you with wide eyes. His hands grabbing yours, to stop them from shaking in the same motion.

“Baby, what do you mean you don’t want to burden me with it?” The offended tone of his voice made your gut wrench. You didn’t want to answer him, but you did it anyways.

“You hockey schedule is so busy, especially now, with you having to play so many games with Anthony out. I don’t want to disrupt your recovery time with stupid tasks like taking the trash out or dusting the shelves.”

He started to rub his neck. You pulled back your hands and started to knead them as you looked anywhere but his direction.

“Sweetheart, look at me.” He grabbed your hands again which made you turn back towards him, giving him your full attention. “Tasks around the house are not stupid tasks. And I live here just as much as you do, so asking me to do stuff like cleaning or taking out the trash is not disrupting my recovery. It´s what I should do, it´s what I should do more even. I´m sorry it all fell back on you. Especially, since you´re having such a hard time.”

He pulled you back onto his lap and softly rubbed the back of your neck. “You´re my girlfriend, not my maid. You don’t have to cook and clean for me, especially not when you have more important things to do, and your studies are more important.”

His sweet words made your blush and wanting to cry at the same time. He was too good for this world, too sweet compared to the other relationships you had been in before. This was still so new to you.

He softly tipped your head up and placed a lingering kiss to your lips. “I love you, never forget it.” He whispered against them.

“I love you too.” You whispered back but let out a loud sigh at the same time. He raised his eyebrows, waiting for you to tell him what was on your mind. Your buried your head in your hands over his shoulder, heavy breaths leaving your mouth as you thought. His hands going back to rubbing softly over your shoulders.

The action was comforting. You wished you would be able to spend the rest of time being comforted by him. He made you feel at ease with everything. Like you were able to conquer the world with him by your side.

“I still need to find this outdoor activity. I haven’t taken my mind off this since leaving school.” Another loud sigh left your mouth.

You heard Joseph rustle. When you looked up from leaning on his shoulder, he had pulled out his phone and was frantically typing on it. For a moment you were taken aback. You had just told him you were struggling with finding an activity and he was texting?

When he looked up and saw your hurt face his changed into a smile with his signature giggle. “I´m listening, and I´m solving your problem. Not texting anyone unimportant, I promise.” He pulled you back against him and placed a kiss to your head before he went back to his phone.

“Does the activity have to be outdoor outdoor, like actually outside? Or is an outdoor sport enough?” You squinted your eyes, confusion written all over your face.

Still, you took a moment to think, your mentor teacher did not specify what kind of outdoor it had to be. “Just get the students active.” Was all your mentor teacher said. So, you guessed an outdoor sport inside would technically work. Even though you had no idea what his plan was.

“I mean, technically that should work. What are you thinking?” He didn’t answer, just smiled and went back typing.

After about five minutes he stopped and looked at you with a confident and happy expression. You raised your eyebrows, curious about what he was about to tell you.

“So, how would you feel about coming out to Ford Performance Center with your students.” Your eyes widened in surprise. “Wait actually?” You yelped. He chuckled and placed his phone on the living room table to give you his full attention again.

“Yes, sweetheart, actually.” He laughed. “I texted some people from the team, asking if we could make it happen, and they said it was no problem. The Marlies are on the road so you can technically be on their ice as long as you want. Their words, not mine.”

You swung your arms around his neck, plastering his face with kisses. “Thank you, thank you, thank you. I will write an email to the school immediately so they can get the permission slips set up and sent to the parents over the weekend.”

He wrapped his arms around you tightly and laughed, throwing his head back. “It´s nothing.” He waved it off, but this was everything to you. He not just listened to the problem and your worries, he actively went and solved it.

You scrambled off his lap to get to your desk to get everything ready, but he held you down before you could get up. “One more thing.” He said, a cheeky smile on his face.

“How would your students feel about shooting some pucks at an actual NHL goaltender, and skating with a couple of other Leafs?”

[mendessi]

things i say when you sleep | chapter eleven

multi chapter bodhi durran x fem!oc

word count: 7k

chapter summary: The Battle of Resson.

content warning: canon typical violence & injuries, liam ):, mentions of death

AO3 masterlist

nine | ten | eleven | twelve | thirteen

Magic beyond the wards feels different. 

It's more freeing, but the lack of control concerns me slightly. 

The terms we left Basgiath on feel strange, even though we went on orders. The account of War Games doesn't change the fact that Xaden pulling us caused more tension with Dain. 

This was the first long flight Gleigeal and I had done, and my back aches when I dismount. We're stopped at a lake not too far from Athebyne so the dragons can drink. The view isn't too bad, and I take a moment to admire it. The quadrant grew quite boring after staring at the same walls for too long, so the change in scenery was nice.

"You okay?" Liam asks from my side as he dismounts Deigh. 

"Call if you need me." I say to Gleigeal as he steps towards the lake. He chuffs in response, and I turn to Liam.

"Just sore," I vocalize my sigh as I stretch my back and shoulders. My back isn't the only sore thing, but I'd rather not mention that I can still feel Bodhi between my legs. "You?"

"I'm good," He nods his head, "Happy that you're here." 

Things are so different now than they were a year ago. Everyone was trying to force my hand into following Xaden blindly, but Liam was the only one who gave me a choice. He was the only one who approached me in a way that worked. I have him to thank when it comes down to it. 

I give him a small smile, and we watch as Andarna unclips from the harness attached to Tairn's. Xaden is a fucking genius. 

"I'm gonna go check on her," Liam says as he approaches her once she lands on the ground. 

The energy feels slightly weird, but I try to keep my shields down just a crack. I want to feel what's going on around me, and I don't want surprises. Especially not during War Games. 

I lean against a tree and watch the rest of the headquarters squad situate. Xaden approaches Violet and laces his fingers with hers, and I can't help the subtle smile that finds its way to my face. 

Xaden hand-picked this squad for a reason, and nobody here would judge the way he feels for Violet. At least not out loud. 

"Who would've thought? Xaden and Violet," Bodhi says, appearing at my side. I didn't even hear him approach; I'd been so lost in thought. 

"Who would have thought?" I verbally agree. I did think. I thought many months ago, actually. 

"How are you?" He asks, leaning against the other side of the tree. 

"I'm good. Nervous, but good." 

The common knowledge that when we return to Basgiath, there's a chance that other cadets won't doesn't sit right with me. I trust that the squad I've been placed in for this exercise will return home just fine, but I can't say the same for the others. Anything could happen, and as much as I'm not worried for those I'm currently with, the idea of anything happening to Rhi, Sawyer, or Ridoc frightens me. Especially Ridoc. Who would I share a bed with when I'm upset? 

"Everything is gonna be fine. Xaden is gonna have us leave for patrol at some point tomorrow, and you can see how the drops work," He says. 

"You don't think Violet will question why I get to go and she has to stay?" I ask. 

"Liam will stay with her to keep her distracted, and you can explain to him when you two have time alone," he tells me. "You should rest. Sit with me for a minute."

He sits down with his back to the tree and his feet apart. He pats the grass between his legs, and I shake my head with a laugh as I sit. I lean my back against his chest, and he wraps his arms around my shoulders. The position is quite comfortable, and I sigh in content as I watch the dragons drink from the lake. 

"You look good in flight leathers," He says, his thumb stroking my arm lightly.

"Shut up," I hit his thigh playfully and tilt my head to look at him. 

"I'm happy you're here, Ani," He says. "I would've been worried if I couldn't have my eyes on you for five days."

"I can handle myself," I say as he raises his hand to brush my cheek. 

"Hey," He says gently, "I know you can." 

I want to kiss him, but the inner monologue I had with myself during the long hours of flying stops me. I know I let him kiss me before we launched to leave Basgiath, but I don't want any more intimacy with him til we draw the lines around whatever this relationship is. I shouldn't even be allowing myself to sit like this with him. 

"I would've just missed you," I tell him. 

"We'll have some time when we get back before Conscription Day to do just about whatever we want," He says. 

"I want to talk first," I reply, and he nods.

"I know." His thumb brushes my bottom lip. "Me too."

Our time is limited under this tree, and the conversation we need to have is going to have to wait. Maybe tonight, after we establish headquarters and retrieve our next missive, we'll have time. 

"We have company," Gleigeal says, and Bodhi must receive the same news from Cuir because we're both to our feet within a heartbeat.

"Fuck. Violet doesn't know." Bodhi takes off running, and I follow behind him. I have practically sprint to keep up with his large strides.

"Gryphons?" I ask, pushing to keep up. 

"Yes, but I'm told they're allies." He replies. A breath of relief fills my lungs.

When we approach, I feel the power radiating off of Violet, and I do my best to dim it.

Gryphons stand in front of them, and my lips part at the sight. I'd only ever seen them in drawings, but I'm amazed at how magnificent they are in person. 

Violet is thrashing in Liam's arms, and Tairn's piercing roar makes my ears ring. Liam releases her, and I join her at her side. I can feel her betrayal seeping into my chest, and I consider raising my shields fully shut. It's a bitter feeling, and I don't like the way it hurts. I feel for her; I do. I know exactly how it feels to be kept in the dark. 

She looks to me, scanning me for any sort of surprise or the same sentiment of betrayal, and she shakes her head when she realizes I don't. 

"You knew?" She asks me, her voice slightly wavering. 

"To an extent, yes. But there is so much you don't understand." I reply. I recall the time that Bodhi had said the same words to me when I arrived in the quadrant. 

"You almost had me fooled," She scoffs and turns her attention back to the conversation happening between Xaden and the fliers. Her words sting, but I know that I would feel the same way. I don't hold her at fault for it. 

"Venin never come this far west," Is the next line of the conversation I catch.

All I'd been told was that we'd supply venin-killing weapons as a form of aid. I had put two and two together that it was to fliers, but seeing it happen in action was insanely surreal. My entire life, I'd been kept on the outside, and finally, not being the only person in the room who was clueless felt freeing. 

"Until now. They were unmistakably venin and had one of their-" One of the female fliers start. Xaden is quick to cut her off. 

"Don't say anything else. You know that none of us can know the details, or we put everything at risk. All it takes is one of us being interrogated." I focus on Xaden's feelings and am shocked when I sense a bit of fear. He turns back to look at me for only a moment, and I know I've been caught trying to read him.

"Details or not, it looks like the horde is heading north. Straight toward our trading post on the border across from your garrison at Athebyne. Are you armed?" The male flier asks.

I reach for Bodhi's hand just to have something to hold. This was never something I anticipated when I agreed to help with the drops next year.

"We're armed," Xaden confirms.

"Then our job here is done. You've been warned. Now we have to go defend our people. As it is, this side trip only gives us about an hour to reach them in time." The flier says. I look at the entire drift of fliers, trying to remember faces. Something tells me that this isn't the last time I'll be seeing them. 

My heart sinks. Ever since Bodhi told me that venin were real, it never really struck me as true. Of course, I believed him, but it was just so insanely baffling that the stories we'd been told as children were accurate accounts of history. Standing here in front of a drift of fliers, people that are supposed to be our enemy, who are about to head into battle against them, is hindering.

Bodhi laces our fingers together and squeezes my hand comfortingly, and I glance at his side profile. Still so beautiful.  

"I wonder what your King would be willing to pay in order to get back the daughter of his most illustrious general. I'm willing to bet your ransom would be enough to defend all of Draithus for a decade." The male says, tilting his head to look at Violet. 

Bodhi drops my hand, and we instantly move closer to her, and I'm prepared to fight if need be. Violet's power sizzles in my chest as Tairn snarls behind us. 

"Try. I dare you." Light flashes above us, and the corner of my mouth twitches upward. She has it handled. It's ridiculous how powerful she is. 

Xaden's shadow-wielding never fails to impress me every time I have the pleasure of witnessing it. Watching him defend Violet is extremely satisfying, and I don't hide my amusement at how the fliers back off after it. 

After the drift is gone, all of us turn to Violet. I feel bad for her, knowing exactly how she feels, but I don't know how to comfort her. There's nothing I could say that would make this situation better. I know that this is a conversation she has to have with Xaden. 

Her feelings are so overwhelming so I try to reach out and do what I can to ease them, but she's too damned strong and I haven't even begun to hone my signet. I'm not even sure if adjusting the intensity of someone else's emotions is something I can do, but I've been dying to test the theory. What better moment than now?

When she raises her voice at Liam, I let go of the strand of color that I know is her's. I'm either making it worse or not helping at all. 

I turn and reach for Bodhi, grateful when he wraps his arm around my shoulders. I don't like the conflict happening in front of me, especially when I've convinced myself I'm the reason it's escalating. 

"And you." Violet turns to me, and I grip Bodhi's jacket between my fingers. "You spent all this time pretending to hate them when you've been working with them all along." 

"That's not true." Anger bubbles beneath my skin. She's upset, and I can't blame her for anything she's saying. Xaden will clear the air, hopefully. If anyone can get through to her, it's him. 

"Everybody go back to the shore. Now." Xaden says, and we oblige. They need the space, and Xaden needs to get through to her. 

"She will come around. Just as you did," Gleigeal says, and I hope he's right. 

We sit in the sand, and Bodhi absentmindedly plays with my fingers as I watch the water lap against the shoreline. 

"When we get back to Basgiath, we'll go into further detail about drop shipments before Xaden leaves," Bodhi says, and I hum in response, not really paying attention to him. "What's wrong?" 

"I know how she feels," I say quietly, turning to face him. "I feel bad for her, that's all. And knowing that those fliers are about to go head to head with a 'horde' and we can't do anything about it is... horrifying. I want to help."

Bodhi takes in my words and processes them slowly.

And fucking War Games. There's still that, too.

"She'll come around," Bodhi says, and I shake my head. 

"She's not me, Bodhi," I tell him. "She has lived her entire life believing in one thing and was raised differently than we were. I forgave you quicker than I should've. Don't count on the same from her."

Violet isn't wired that way. She's like me in the sense that it takes a lot for her to trust, but this isn't something she'll move past as quickly as I did. It was easier for me because I grew up with Bodhi, Garrick, and Xaden. I have a relic. She doesn't. Gaining her trust again will take time. 

I unsheathe the alloy-hilted dagger that Xaden and Bodhi put into my possession not too long after I found out about the venin and draw in the sand with it. 

"It's not easy lying to those you care about," He says, "Especially something to this scale." 

"I know." I keep my gaze on the tip of the blade dragging through the sand. 

"Listen, Ani," He gently takes the blade from my hand and tilts my chin to look at him, "I don't know what's going to happen over the next couple of days, but if I don't say this now, I'll regret it."

"I can't." I shake my head, pulling away from him to stand up, "I can't do the goodbye stuff. I'm sorry." 

"Ani, please," He stands up too, reaching for my hand, "Let me just-"

"Mount up." Xaden's order grabs our attention, and I'm slightly thankful, though the look in Bodhi's eyes pains me. 

"We'll talk when we're back in Basgiath," I tell him. 

Ever since my family died, goodbyes have never been my forte. I didn't get to say a single word to any of my family members before I never saw them again, and this isn't something I can handle. Whatever Bodhi was going to tell me will have to wait. 

"I hope that you putting off that conversation won't come back to bite you," Gleigeal says as I mount. 

"I am not capable of having that conversation right now." I reply. 

When we arrive in Athebyne, the energy is extremely off. When I join Bodhi, he glances at me sideways, and I look around at the empty outpost. 

"There's no one here. Divide and search." He looks between Bodhi and me. "You don't take eyes off of her, you hear me?"

Bodhi nods curtly, and he, Garrick, Imogen, and I split away from him and Violet. The rest of our squad splits into small groups as well to search the seemingly abandoned outpost. 

"So are you two..." Garrick gestures between Bodhi and me.

"I knew it," Imogen snickers. 

My cheeks heat up, and I put distance between me and Bodhi. "Let's focus on the task at hand." 

"I'm just saying, if you are, you know that we support you." Garrick continues. He's trying to get a rise out of Bodhi, and the way his strand of emotions in the Riorson library burns brighter tells me it's working. 

"Shut up." Bodhi glares at Garrick, and he and Imogen break into laughter. 

We enter the southeast tower, and Garrick is quick to find a missive addressed to Xaden. So, to counter Xaden's assumption, this does have something to do with War Games. Thank Zihnal. 

We cross the rampart, and while Bodhi and Imogen engage in a minor argument about something I can't hear, Garrick falls in line with my step. 

"You spent a lot of time avoiding me this year, Ania." He tells me. 

"I spent a lot of time avoiding a lot of people this year, Garrick." I look up at him as we walk. 

"Yeah, but," he shrugs, "You started talking to Xaden and Bodhi again and never came back to me. We grew up together, too, you know." 

He's not wrong, and I do want to clear the air with him, but right now is not the time. Not when he's about to hand off our assignment to Xaden. 

"I promise I'm not deflecting because I genuinely do want to have this conversation, but can we please wait til we get back to Basgiath?" I ask. 

He smiles, "You were so quick to anger earlier this year. Look at you, having an actual conversation." 

"Shut up," I laugh lightly and nudge his arm with my shoulder. 

"I'm gonna hold you to it, little Alistair. We're having that conversation the second we land back in Basgiath." He says as we approach Xaden, Violet, and Liam. Garrick hands over the missive to Xaden and he pops the seal. 

"That's from Colonel Aetos," Violet says. 

"What's it say? What's our assignment?" Garrick asks. 

"Guys, I see something past the trading post. Oh shit." Liam says. 

The way the energy shifts is enough to make my head spin. I have got to get this empathy thing under control. 

"So I've been trying to tell you," Gleigeal says, and I mock him down our bond. 

"It says our mission is to survive if we can," Xaden says, and the way he pales makes my skin crawl. 

Bodhi immediately reaches for my hand, and I don't dare to pull it away. 

"Guys, this is bad!" Liam yells, and Imogen is at his side within a second. 

Every single person from our squad is appearing at Liam's alert, and Xaden looks to Violet. 

"This isn't your fault." He says to her before looking between the rest of us, "We've been sent here to die."

Xaden's emotions are the only ones I focus on while everyone else rushes to the battlements to see what Liam sees. He's... scared.  His gaze meets mine, and he shakes his head. Somehow, he can sense when I read him, but I don't even think he's upset at me for it. 

"I should've never brought you here," He says to me. "Fuck."

It takes everything in me to focus on what's happening. The conversations in front of me happen so quickly that I almost don't catch what's being said. I'm too busy trying to close the book where the emotions of those around me are starting to grow wildly. I cannot have a repeat of what happened on the field with Gleigeal. 

"The letter says this is a test of your command. You have the choice of abandoning the village of our enemy or abandoning command of your wing." The section leader says. 

"What the hell does that mean?" Bodhi snatches the letter from his hand. 

"They're testing our loyalty without saying it," Xaden says. "According to the missive, if we leave now, we’ll make it to the new location of headquarters for Fourth Wing at Eltuval in time to carry out our orders for War Games, but if we leave, the trading post of Resson and its occupants will be destroyed." 

Violet reeks of guilt, and I wish I knew why. There's no way she could know something like this would happen. 

"By what?" Imogen asks.

"Venin." Liam's words don't shock me, but they should. 

"I liked it better when we just delivered the weapons," Bodhi says under his breath. 

"We are joined by seven gryphons," Gleigeal says. 

I look to Bodhi, who likely just got the same message from Cuir. 

"How many people live in Resson?" He asks.

"More than three hundred," Imogen replies. 

"Then let's get down there."

The way he reacts, ready to defend innocent people, sets off an absurd feeling in my chest. The way he stares down his cousin who blocks him from running into the unknown is the reason I-

The thought doesn't finish forming because Xaden is on a justifiable tangent about the risks of marching into Resson. Once a gryphon flier approaches us and tells us to flee, my mind is made up. 

I want to stay, and I want to help. Innocent people will die if we don't leave. I don't care about the risks. What good are we with dragons if we don't at least try to help? 

This could've been prevented if the leadership in Navarre hadn't deemed it necessary to hide this knowledge from the public. They're all in the dark, just like I was. 

"I’m not going to order any of you to join me. I’m responsible for all of you. None of you crossed that parapet because you wanted to. None of you. You crossed it because I made a deal. I’m the one who forced you into the quadrant, so I won’t think less of anyone who wants to fly for Eltuval instead. Make your choice.” Xaden says.

"I know if Beckett were alive, he would be here by our side. And he absolutely would not walk away from this fight." I say, looking to Xaden. I could very well be on the death roll come tomorrow, but I know what the right thing to do is.

"I was worried you'd say that," Xaden says, but there's a tiny hint of a sad smile. 

"I chose well," Gleigeal tells me. 

Every single one of us agrees that we're fighting. Whether we make it home or not, at least we die doing what we as riders swore to do. 

Liam tells us what he can see from where we are, and I take a deep breath as I look at Bodhi. He's already looking at me. 

Xaden gives us directives one by one. I'm to assist Bodhi and Garrick in evacuating the town. We're approaching our dragons when Xaden's hand wraps around my wrist. 

"If you're telling me to stay out of this fight, I'm not going to listen to you," I tell him, pulling my wrist from his grip. 

"I was going to tell you that I am proud of the person you've become," He says. 

I remember after Threshing when he told me that Beckett would be proud of me. Xaden's pride in me means just as much, I realize. Beckett was a great brother in every aspect. But he wasn't my only brother. 

"I'll see you on the other side of this," I tell him. 

"Stay alive, Ania. Not just for Beckett, but for me too." Xaden doesn't give me the chance to reply. He turns on his heel and walks toward Violet. 

"It is a shame that I never got to meet him," Gleigeal says as I approach his foreleg. I smile softly, thinking of the time when Gleigeal "didn't think he would mind his presence". 

"Let's not dwell on what could have been," I reply. 

I'm about to mount when Bodhi appears at my side. I open my mouth to speak, but he grabs my waist, pulling me into a devastating kiss. 

My hands immediately find his face as he pulls me as close to him as humanly possible. It's passionate and deep and just what I need to prepare me for what we're walking into. 

When he pulls away, his gaze locks on mine. 

I look for the strand of emotions I know are his, but they don't sprout from the book in the Riorson House library. The spiral down from the mage lights hovered above, entangling themselves with the deep green tendrils of my own. He is more than a part of me at this point, and the feeling pounds in my chest. I know we share it as one. 

"Ani-" He starts, with his forehead resting against mine.

"I know," I whisper. "Tell me after."

He kisses me one more time and then walks away to mount Cuir. 

Everyone's attention is directed to the dragon that flies overhead, spiting blue fire. I immediately recognize it from the drawings in the books we read as kids. 

"Is that a wyvern?" I ask Gleigeal.

"Unfortunately," He replies. 

"Anyone want to change their minds?" Xaden asks and is met with silence. "No? Then, mount up."

Perfect. Is there any part of Fables of the Barren that is actually fictional? 

Bodhi and I share one more glance before the entire squad is mounted on their dragons, heading into battle.

"Be prepared to relaunch at a moment's notice," Gleigeal tells me when my feet hit the ground. 

The town center is a mess. People are running in a million different directions; children are screaming and crying. I don't give myself a moment to panic; I simply jump straight into action, guiding people in the direction safest to get out of Resson. 

A venin stands on top of the tower, blue flames spewing from his hands into the town below him. 

Tairn and Violet fly by, and the entire clock tower goes up in flames before collapsing in on itself. 

"Soleil found a mine entrance. Start directing civilians toward it," Gleigeal shouts down the bond, and I nod my head. I see Bodhi and Garrick further up and assume it must be that way, so I start sending them that way. 

The last couple of civilians from my end of town are now closer to Bodhi, so I take one last look around to ensure there are no stragglers. 

"Mount, now!" Gleigeal's roar sounds, and I don't question it; I just sprint. 

I execute the quickest mount I've ever done and look below as he launches with me halfway up his back. I nearly lose my footing but manage to catch myself on his spikes. The venin that stood on top of the clock tower emerges from the flames, and my breath is stolen from my lungs. Dragon fire is no use. The gryphon flier explaining that four of them is a death sentence makes so much sense now. 

Fuck, what did we get ourselves into?

Gleigeal lands next to Liam, and I dismount, landing directly next to him. 

"You okay?" He asks me, and I nod. 

"Dragon fire doesn't work," I tell him.

I flinch as lightning strikes a section of the city wall, silently begging Violet to get her aim under control. 

"I got the mine entrance open!" Soleil calls. 

Liam and I take no time in starting to usher the townspeople into it. I don't have eyes on Garrick and Bodhi anymore. Bodhi was told not to take his eyes off of me, so I can imagine the fear he's feeling.

"Can you relay to Cuir-"

"Already did," He replies. "Enemy approaching."

I turn around, my jaw dropping as I watch the venin channel from the ground.  The ground around it essentially dies, turning an ugly gray color. 

Soleil is already charging at it, and I move to run after her. My feet skid when I halt, and I almost lose my balance. Not even two steps into the dead zone, she collapses and so does her Brown Clubtail. I hear Violet's scream, but my eyes don't leave the venin. 

Its eyes lock on mine, and I know I'm next. The gray patch begins to expand outward. I won't make it back to Gleigeal at the speed it moves out, no matter how quickly I run. 

I hold my hands up, focusing on the lanterns that line the path. I pull open the curtains in the library and pull every light source I can see into my palms before forcing my energy into them. The flare that rips off my palms is so bright that I have the instinct to look away, but I don't because I know it does not affect me. It's the same way I can look at the sun and not be bothered by it.

The venin lifts its hands to its eyes and stumbles backward. I take the small opportunity to sprint, but I refuse to look back. 

"Faster!" Gleigeal's shout rattles my brain.

Again, I'm barely up his spine when he launches. The deadzone is only feet away from us, and I release a breath I didn't know I was holding. 

"That was far too close." Gleigeal's tone is angry. 

"Liam and Deigh, are they safe?" I ask. 

"They launched in time," He replies, and I nod as I retake my seat. 

Gleigeal and I engage in combat with a group of wyvern, and I've never struggled so hard to keep my seat in my life. The banks and rolls that Glegeal does has my ass lifting out of my seat each time, but it pays off because we manage to take out every single one. So long as we can keep them away from the town, then at least we've done some good. 

"Tairn and Deigh require assistance," Gleigeal tells me, and I look around for them. 

My stomach sinks when I see Violet struggling to hold Liam on top of Tairn. Deigh is fighting the disgusting beast for his and his rider's life.

"I cannot interfere without risking your life," He says as we fly under head. 

"I don't care. Do what you have to!" I shout. I couldn't care less what happens to me so long as my friends live.

My Red Swordtail obliges my request, and I pull the leftover light energy from my hands, ready to wield at a moment's notice. I hold tightly onto his spikes as he interjects himself into the battle where he can to help Deigh. It's still too risky without taking out both the wyvern and Deigh. 

"On the right!" I scream. A riderless wyvern appears, and Gleigeal is forced to let go of the wyvern holding onto Deigh. Luckily, Tairn was there within a second, snapping his teeth into its shoulder. 

Gleigeal turns quick enough to snap his teeth into the wyvern's wing, shaking his head so furiously its wing comes clean off. The wyvern can't level out and has no choice but to accept fate and fall to its death. 

The roar that Gleigeal releases is so loud that it makes my head split. He dives towards the ground and lands roughly, nearly making me fly off of him. I dismount at record speed and rush to where Violet is holding Liam in her lap.

"No," I whisper. "What happened?"

"Deigh is gone."

"Help me get him to Deigh." Violet cries, and I do my best to help lift him. 

"Gleigeal was on the wyvern. I don't understand how this happened." We're stumbling under Liam's dead weight. 

Xaden and Sgayel land a moment later, and Xadeb immediately takes his weight off of us. I follow him as he carries Liam toward Deigh. Liam's speech is weak as he's lying down with his dragon. 

Perfectly healthy Liam is seconds away from his last breath, and there's nothing that can be done. If I can just give him this one thing and lead him into a painless sleep, then I'll do it no matter what the cost is. 

Pain is an emotion just as much as it is a feeling, and Liam is full of it. If I can just... I don't listen to a word he and Xaden are saying, I simply reach my hands for his face. The pain that radiates from his skin at my touch makes me cry out. It isn't just his pain, it's Deigh's too. 

"What are you doing?" Xaden asks. 

"Release him, now," Gleigeal demands, but I ignore him. "Ania, let go!"

"I'm taking his pain," I whimper. I force my hands to stay steady against his cheeks as I absorb every last ounce of it.

Liam deserves to die pain-free. He shouldn't be dying at all. It fucking hurts. 

When I no longer feel anything, I let go and stumble back toward Violet to let Xaden have his moment with his foster brother. 

My knees hit the rocks, and even though she reaches out to make sure I'm okay, her eyes stay locked on Liam and Xaden. 

"What did you do?" She asks. 

I can't answer. I'm trying to control what's happening in the Riorson House library that I built into my head. 

Nothing makes sense. 

Liam is dead.

The first person with a relic that I trusted. The person who gave me so much of his time when I pushed back so hard. He made me care about him, made me let him in. Now, he was gone. 

"Please tell me Bodhi is okay," I beg Gleigeal. 

He's silent for a moment but then chuffs, "They are alive."

Grief barrels at me at breakneck speed, and a scream tears through my throat. It is mixed with Liam's pain and all of our sorrow at the loss of him. 

"You can't do this right now," Violet demands as she cups my cheeks. "You have to finish this battle. Get it under control."

Control it. Don't let it control you.

I take deep breaths that shake my entire chest. 

Focus on one thing.

The theory. To try and dim Violet's anger. It might've backfired earlier, but it worked on Liam. I could feel the pain slowly leave his body and enter mine until there was nothing left to take. 

"Now, Ania!" Violet screams, and I'm brought back to my senses. 

I sit up on my knees, ignoring the way that the ache lingers in my entire body. 

"Tairn needs us to keep the wyvern off of him and Sgayel," Gleigeal tells me. 

When I stand, the world tilts, but I shake my head and move as quickly as I can toward my dragon.

"Then we keep the wyvern off of him and Sgayel," I say out loud as I climb up his foreleg. 

We do just that. Or we try to. 

Everything happens so quickly. One minute, we're in the sky, and the next, Gleigeal screams at me to dismount. 

He barely had time to tell me it was because he wouldn't be able to control his landing with the way a wyvern was on our tail. My running dismount was not the best, and I land in a roll that leaves my entire body in a type of pain I've never felt before. 

When I stand, my left leg nearly gives out, the pain earth-shattering. I think my hip is fractured from the landing. 

"I'm coming back, get ready," Gleigeal says, and a few moments later, he growls. "There are too many on me, I will not lead them back to you."

"Something is wrong with my hip," I cry out. 

This might be where I die. 

The sky is orange from the blistering fire, and the sun is slowly setting. I get so much power from the sun. 

I look down the path, the light posts flickering, when I see the shadow of a venin appear. I unsheath the only alloy-hilted dagger I was given and hope for the best.

As he gets closer, I can tell he likes the fact that he gets to have me in hand-to-hand. It's like he can sense that I'm injured. If he wanted to, he could channel and drain the ground and kill me either way. Still, he approaches me with a devilish smile on his face that chills me to my bone. He'd rather kill me with his bare hands. 

"Thank you for choosing me." I push the thought outward, and I know it's his roar that I hear from the sky. 

"I will not tolerate that talk!" Gleigeal roars. 

"A rider without their dragon," The venin laughs wickedly. "I can't wait to get my hands on you."

"In your dreams," I snarl. 

Within the next heartbeat, he advances on me. One thing I was taught was that venin will adapt to your fighting style, so every couple of seconds, I switch. I fight like Xaden. Then Ridoc. Then Bodhi. Then Liam. Every person I have ever sparred against, every pattern I have ever written into my journal, I use it. 

When I get far enough, I throw a blinding light to catch him off guard. I haven't perfected this skill, but I push out light flares that heat my palms to an unnatural degree. Anything to keep his hands away from me. 

Each flare hits him in the chest, and I shift the particles to heat. He screams, and I know that it likely feels like someone just set a fire in his chest. 

The adrenaline has dulled the pain in my hip, but each step burns. 

While he's distracted by the light burning in his chest, I try to get a read on his emotions. There's nothing but rage and fury. He's just a gray, miserable being. There's nothing to work with. Nothing to manipulate. 

"You are approaching burnout." Gleigeal says. "I can't get to you in time."

"I have made peace with what will happen," I tell him.

The light dies out, and he's on the move towards me again. I'm fucking exhausted and my will to keep going is running thin. I'm not walking away from this alive. 

The venin throws two hits and kicks into my knee, but I don't have the speed nor mobility to stop myself from falling to the ground. I land on my back, my head hitting the ground with a crack.

Everything is happening in slow motion. 

"Back up is coming," Gleigeal assures me. His panic surges through me, but I barely have time to register when the venin stands above me. 

Gray figures are falling around us as lightning cracks across the sky. 

"Thank you for what you are about to give me." The venin says as he crouches down next to me. "I'm going to make this slow and painful." 

The way to kill venin is to strike them with pure power, with which none I have left. 

His hands reach for my wrists, and my eyes flare with panic. He slowly draws power from me, drop by drop, and I scream out, kicking my legs for purchase. 

Gods, this is how I die. 

War Games seems like such a distant memory, a figment of something that doesn't matter. 

Now, I'll be reunited with Mom, Dad, and Beckett. And Liam will be there too. 

"FIGHT." Gleigeal blows the channel, and power surges through me. Energy pulses through my fingertips, and I notice that they're glowing.

Light is not something I bend, it is something that I am. 

Everyone that I have ever lost and ever loved, I use them to push me to grip the venin's face. 

I force every ounce of burning light I have into his skull. It takes a moment, but he screams and fights to pull away. His temples burn bright under my fingers, and his skin his hot to the touch. He releases my wrists, and I force myself to sit up, holding him with a bone-crushing grip. 

I can see the power, my power, burning bright behind his eyes. It takes everything in me, but I can read his fear, and that only pushes me further. He knows I'm winning. 

The power behind his eyes flashes rapidly, and his eyes roll back before he falls limp. I rip my hands away from him and back away from his body.

Wyvern drop out of the sky around us, and I smile tiredly as I look up. A sigh of relief leaves my lungs, and the ground shakes when Gleigeal lands next to me. I almost let myself fall back, but he's there behind me. His entire body is flat as he catches me on his nose. 

"You fought well, Ania," Gleigeal says. 

"Is it over?" I ask. I can barely keep my eyes open. I feel so sleepy now.

"It appears so," He replies.

Several footsteps approach, and I flinch away when someone leans down in front of me. 

"It's just me, sunshine." Bodhi's face is in front of mine, and I blink quickly, trying to determine if he's actually here or if I'm dead. 

"Bodhi," I whisper. He lifts my hands into his, examining my wrists closely. "Is everyone okay?"

"Everyone is fine." He nods quickly. 

"I used too much, I think," I say, and he shakes his head.

"No, you did good," He tells me softly, brushing his thumb against my cheek. He sits against Gleigeal, and if I had the energy, I would be surprised that he allowed it. He pulls me in between his legs against his chest, and I wince. "I'm sorry, Ani. I'm sorry."

"Never be sorry." I use his words against him as I tilt my head upward, with a small smile. 

My arms feel like they have hundred-pound weights strapped to them when I lift my hand to trace his jaw. 

"Beautiful," I say, but the word forms in a whisper. 

I'm still convinced I'm dead and dreaming. 

Resson killed me and everyone I love, and this is me reuniting with Bodhi in the afterlife. 

"Sorrengail is down," I hear another voice to the side. I think it's Garrick. "We need to prepare Xaden for the worst. If we lose Ania too-"

"Garrick." Bodhi snaps before turning his attention back to me.

Oh.

This must be serious. I open the Riorson House library, and nothing streams in from the window. The normally deep green mage lights are gray, and the book that monitors the emotions I allow myself to feel is neatly closed. The library itself, on the other hand, looks like someone set off an explosion in it. The shelves are knocked over, and books scatter the floor. 

"Am I dying?" I ask Bodhi. 

"I don't know," He answers truthfully. A single tear rolls down his cheek. 

"Bodhi, I have to say-" 

"No," He whispers. "Please, don't. Tell me later." 

"Fuck," I hear Garrick mutter. 

"You may rest now, Ania," Gleigeal says. 

I allow myself to succumb to the darkness. 

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[femininenachos]

10 years of Clexa kisses (Yours for the (s)taking edition)

She wants nothing more than to put her hands on Clarke’s body. And the dark, heated look Clarke is giving her only fuels the very vivid ideas in Lexa’s head; about reversing their positions, grinding her hips against tensed muscle, bringing them both to a slow, sensual climax.

But she’s also all too aware that they don’t have the luxury of time right now.

To start something and have it curtailed would be a tragedy, particularly the thorough ravishment Lexa has in mind.

Also, bursting into flames during the act is guaranteed to kill the mood.

So it’s with regret that she says, “Could we possibly take a rain check?”

Clarke’s face cycles through a few emotions, frustration and disappointment being foremost, and Lexa tries not to preen.

“I want to. Believe me, I do,” she says. “It’s just, you have work and sunlight is sort of my Achilles' heel…”

Clarke casts a glance towards the alarm clock on the nightstand. Her eyes go wide and round.

“Oh, shit.” She scrambles up and off the bed to pull the blinds down and the curtains shut tight. Whirls back around, fraught and full of panicked energy. “What are you going to do? I mean, will you have enough time to—”

“There’s a safe house nearby. If I leave shortly, I can make it.”

Her relief is palpable.

Lexa swings her legs around. Stands and massages the crick out of her neck. She notices her coat still in a heap on the floor and picks it up.

“I’ll dispose of this. Do you have a spare trash bag?”

“Yeah, in the kitchen.”

She follows Clarke through the apartment into a galley kitchen. It’s so cramped and narrow that Lexa almost walks into Clarke when she stops to search through a drawer. They’re standing far too close when Clarke turns around, a roll of black plastic in hand. She tears off one bag and gives it to Lexa.

“Thank you.”

“No problem.”

An uneasy silence hangs in the air between them while they look at each other, neither sure what to say.

Clarke breaks the tension with a hollow chuckle. “You know, I figured you were the type to sneak off before sunrise. Admittedly, for totally different reasons.”

“I wish I could stay, Clarke.”

A nod. Clarke worries her lip as she scans Lexa’s face. What she’s searching for, Lexa can only hazard a guess but she keeps her expression open and sincere.

“I like the way you say my name.”

Apropos of nothing; not at all what Lexa expected to hear.

She’s even less prepared for what happens next: the confidence with which Clarke invades her space, crowding Lexa back against the stove until her rear bumps into the oven door handle.

Whatever qualms Clarke might be having are masked by the determined glint in her eyes as she closes in. Dropping the trash bags, she curls a hand around Lexa’s neck, the other going to Lexa’s hip.

And then Clarke is kissing her; soft, warm lips moving with gentle insistence.

Lexa is slow to react, mouth opening in blind reflex as Clarke leans up, angling in deeper. Lexa’s mind goes blank; fuzzy, white static ringing in her ears and drowning out the rapid thump of Clarke’s heartbeat as their lips cling together and a hot puff of breath hits her cheek.

It only lasts a moment, but Lexa feels a phantom flutter in her chest, a swoop in her stomach, a weakness in the knees. She tingles all over. It would be embarrassing if she wasn’t so inexplicably taken with this woman.

“You feel warm,” Clarke whispers, thumb stroking the side of Lexa’s neck and making her melt.

“The gift of your blood.” Lexa draws back an inch to look at Clarke, becoming solemn and serious. Voice going soft. “Clarke, what you did was—”

She’s cut off by Clarke kissing her again. With the kind of slow, soft hunger that has Lexa contemplating whether they could just barricade Clarke’s bedroom against the light. Potential death seems like an acceptable risk if it means she gets to continue doing this.

“I can think of a couple of ways you could thank me,” Clarke says, breathier. Her hand drops to Lexa’s sternum to push her away, retreating a half step. “But later.”

“Tonight?”

An eyebrow flexes. “My haemoglobin is that good, huh?”

“That’s not all I want to taste.”

Read on AO3

[gardenwalrus]

The Beatles speaking about themselves in DISC (12 October 1963) [Paul & John section here]

[GEORGE] Our dress style has changed…  It was when I was relaxing in a Boeing jet on the way back from America last week that I realised that in many ways I was still the same George Harrison I was before The Beatles were so well known. But I also realise that in some ways my life HAS changed - mostly for the better I’m glad to say.  The most obvious change is financial. That’s very nice, but I don’t think it's the most important thing. It’s nice to be able to buy a new car and new clothes when you want them, but I was happy when I couldn’t afford these things.  One big way The Beatles generally have changed is in their style of dress. Eighteen months ago, for instance, we dressed far more casually than we do now. 

I think my social life has changed considerably as well. Now we meet far more people than we ever met before.  I mean, like, when we appear at a one-night stand we’re often invited back after the show to a nearby club. People seem to go out of their way to try and make sure we have a little fun after our work.  A question I’ve been asked quite a few times over the past 12 months is: “What do you think is the right age to get married?”  I honestly think there’s no such thing as ‘the right age.’ I think that you should get married when you decide that this is the time when you should get married. This is a decision which you can only make yourself. There’s no correct age.  In my personal tastes, I’m a bit undecided about clothes, too. I haven’t got any definite preferences. But if something I see pleases me I’ll buy it and wear it whether it’s in the French style, or Italian, or English.  One thing I really do get enthusiastic about is music. As I’ve said before in DISC, I like the coloured American groups like The Shirelles and The Miracles. But I’m fond of a lot of other music - Segovia on classical guitar, for example. 

+

[RINGO] I’m the silent type…  I’m the one the boys call the silent type. Well, I haven’t got all that much to say for myself, and I prefer to listen to other people speaking. My real name is Richard Starkey, but the Ringo bit has been with me for so long, I don’t think of myself as a ‘Richard’ anymore. Of all the Beatles, I live nearest to the city centre - about 10 minutes walk and six bus stops away. It’s not a rich part of town, but my mum has all her friends there and doesn’t want to move out.  Some of my family are just outside London. They sometimes come and visit us, and once a year my dad makes a trek down south.  I want to do things for my family, but they keep telling me to save my money. Eventually I think I’ll open a chain of hairdressing shops in and around Liverpool. I’d like my main shop to be in the centre of the city, and be THE place.  I have enough hairdressing friends to keep the shops well staffed, but feel with a haircut like mine it would be best for me to stay away from them!  I have my hair cut about once every three months! I’m joking of course. I have it trimmed when the mood takes me and have no special barber.  You don’t hear very much about me in the group, because I don’t sing. I had my big and only singing moment on ‘Boys’ for our LP, and really made the most of it.  And, surprisingly enough, although I’m a drummer I don’t have a favourite musician. Well, not a real one. I like to see good showmanship in any artist, and I hope to get a chance of seeing Brook Benton while he’s in England. It’s a stroke of luck he’ll be doing the Palladium show at the same time as us, but I’ll probably be so nervous, I won’t have time to appreciate his act.  I don’t eat very much. If I did, I’d probably have much more energy. As a kid, I was very fond of chips and jam-butty (that’s a jam sandwich), and to this day, I still like it. Even if I enjoyed it, I don’t think I’d ever get used to eating caviar or drinking champagne.  One of my ambitions in life is to learn how to play the piano. I’d willingly take lessons if only I had the time. But my main ambition is to be happy all the time.  Yet I don’t relax very much. I like to be active. Even if I have a chance to go on holiday, instead of sitting in the sun all day I’m off exploring the local neighbourhood. I think I do this because if I didn’t I’d be nothing more than just plain lazy! I very rarely go near a Chinese or Italian restaurant. Don’t like either food, and if anything has onions in it then I’m completely done for.  I’m mad for rings. I wear four, and would wear them on all my fingers if I didn’t think they’d get in the way. Often I get wrist ache from drumming too much, but the only other ailment I suffer from is occasional colds. I’m not as bad as John though. He keeps on losing his voice. Never doing a performance, but usually just after a recording session. 

[miniaturefirefan]

Admitting Defeat - But Not Giving Up

Guys... I've hit an all-time low.

If you've been keeping up with what's happening in the US right now, or if you're even passingly familiar with the general thrust of US politics, you'll know what I'm talking about. But here, let me explain.

Our Glorious Leader, Orange Cheeto Man, Mango Mussolini, Tangerine Dictator - I'll say it outright, Donald J. Trump, the Fascist - and his people are moving so fast and being so violent and breaking things so thoroughly that I can't keep up. And that's the point. They have planned and designed their actions to have this effect: to be so overwhelming and so frightening that we can't fight back because the human brain simply can't take in that much information in the face of anxiety and fear and uncertainty.

And it worked. They beat me. This morning, I woke up and cried like a fucking baby because I was afraid that my spouse might end up in a Trumpist concentration camp. I'm disabled. I can't work, and the government doesn't seem all that interested in giving me the money I need to continue living under a capitalist system. This administration is on the brink of stripping me of everything that makes my life livable and then removing my means to stay alive, not because I've done anything wrong, but because I exist.

My fear is paralyzing me. My anxiety is preventing me from functioning. Daily tasks like doing the dishes and folding the laundry are becoming unmanageable because staying on top of the news drains me so thoroughly that I don't have the energy for anything else.

But I want you to know that if you're in the same boat as me, that's okay. The fact that we can't make the frankly super-human effort to process all their shit and do all the things we want to do to keep them at bay is more of a reflection on them than it is on us. It is a blatant flag being waved from the top of a mountain of shit, screaming "we are the bad guys - we are the invaders that can only accomplish what we want by manipulation and force and cheap tricks."

They want to ruin lives. They want people destroyed. They want people dead. No amount of hair gel or silk ties or pretty words can make us forget that.

Do Not Forget That.

I can't do what I set out to do - which was to at least provide others with the tools to act, if I couldn't act on my own. To facilitate community activism. To DO SOMETHING. I have been forced to delete my news apps, unsubscribe from my newsletters, stop listening to the radio. I can't handle it, if I want to keep living in the present moment.

But that doesn't mean I'm giving up.

I'm weak, and I know my limitations. I will need someone else who has the energy and the intelligence and the resources to tell me what I can do to help. I will need to wait for directions from someone who knows better than me.

But when that call comes, I will answer.

I promise right now that I will answer, whether it's showing up at a protest, or withholding my money from the businesses that support this regime, or picking up a weapon to join the revolution. When the time comes, I will answer the call.

And I hope that you'll join me.

Yours in hope, Echo