#Favorite Blanket That Got Burnt [cries harder]

[keeps-ache]

anyway i wish i had the superpower to dematerialize both old spring mattresses and itchy clothes just by thinking it

[xd3str0yax]

no plot, just tantrum eddie. absolutely relatable

Eddie hated when people broke their promises. Steve had promised him that if he pulled his english grade up, he would treat him to a feast of chicken nuggets and french fries. It was hard but he did it! He got a C+! He was so excited, chicken nuggets were his favorite food in the world.

Eddie was practically vibrating with excitement, he was laying on the floor in front of the TV, coloring. He was wearing a pair of Steve’s basketball shorts along with a ride the lightning T shirt, a D20 pacifier clipped to it, and his favorite stuffed animal tucked under his arm.

Steve was so proud of him, he lined one tray with chicken nuggets and the other with crinkle cut fries. They’d been in the oven about 15 minutes, there were only about five minutes left. He figured he had enough time to step out for a quick cigaret.

“Steve?” The man perked up as Max ran up to him from across the street. “Hey, kiddo! How ya’ doin’?” He happily chirped as he put out his cigaret. “I need your help with something.” She stated bluntly as she began pulling him by the wrist to her trailer. He helped her get what she needed off the top shelf and then got distracted. He got caught up in conversation with her and tidied up a bit.

Eddie was giggling at the TV when he smelled something. “Stevie?” He called out. The little boy got up and looked for his caregiver, he poked his head out of the trailer and looked around. “Stevie!” He was starting to panic, the oven started smoking and Steve was nowhere to be found!

Steve heard Eddie calling his name and dropped a cup back into the sink when he realized the time. “Crap! Max, I’ll see to you later, ok?” He ran to Eddie’s and turned the oven off before pulling the smoldering tray out with an oven mitt. He put the tray outside and opened all the windows to let the smoke out. “I’m so sorry, Eds!” Steve said as he hugged the boy and made sure he was ok.

Steve was most sorry about what he was going to say next. “Ed’s… My sweet baby bat… I’m sorry but we can’t have chicken nuggets tonight.” Eddie’s eyes immediately started filling with tears. “But I got my english grade up…” He whimpered as he tightened his grip around the stuffed animal in his arms. “I know, baby but they’re all burnt! How about we order pizza?” He tried to reason with the boy but Eddie had already stepped back.

“No! You promised!” Eddie stomped his foot and tears rolled down his cheeks. “I know, honey…” Steve tried to hug the boy but was weakly pushed away. “No! No! No!” He yelled. Steve opened his mouth but was cut off. “You promised! You butthead!”

He threw his stuffed animal at Steve but started crying harder as soon as the comfort item was out of his arms. Steve picked up the stuffed animal and dusted it off. Somehow in the 30 seconds his back was turnt, Eddie ended up on the floor.

Steve didn’t like being strict, he hated even saying ‘no’ to Eddie but he knew he had to. “Edward Munson!” He knelt in front of Eddie and held him by the shoulders, firm, but gentle enough to not hurt. “Eddie, if you dont calm down, we’re not getting pizza.” Eddie’s cries had quieted a bit as soon as Steve touched him but he was still whimpering & gasping for air.

“Good boy” Steve wiped some of his tears away and tucked his hair behind his ear. “Now, how about I order the pizza and then we can watch a movie and cuddle, does that sound okay?” Eddie tearfully nodded. Steve led him through some breathing exercises to calm his body and then wrapped him in a blanket.

Steve ordered the food and they snuggled on the couch. Some channel was playing the movie Basket Case, Steve thought it looked a bit inappropriate but Eddie insisted. “I’m sorry tonight didn’t go as planned, little bat.” Eddie smiled at the pet name and rubbed his face against his caregiver’s chest. “Can we have chicken nuggets another night?” He asked as he played with Steve’s fingers. “Of course, baby.”

[aconstantstateofbladerunner]

The Glitch

I get the Broken Reality au is a haha funny joke but there’s been some legit great art for it and since Butterfly is over and I haven’t gotten into the groove of my other projects yet, I decided to try some flash fiction of my interpretations. Note that this is very small and informal; I used whatever idea came into my head over the course of an hour or so instead of the weeks of planning that go into my usual fics. This was an experiment for fun. But if people enjoy the concept, I may be tempted to expand on it.

Credit to @lollitree @moonpaw @gentrychild​ @owlf45​ and @cyber-phobia​ (I’m sorry if I missed someone I lost track of how many people were involved in this mess).

Content working for reference to infant death.

Please enjoy!

The city shut down for a typhoon warning.  Thunder rumbled in the distance.  Dark clouds blocked the sun so much that by mid-morning it still looked like it never bothered coming up.  And yet the humidity made it too hot for coffee.  Inko didn’t know how to feel.  Work would have been a good distraction.  But she didn’t want any coworkers or clients to see if today got to be too much.  And it was already shaping up to be.  She caught herself making two plates of food for breakfast.  

Inko sat alone in the kitchen.  She couldn’t bring herself to finish her own plate.  Sickness set in fast.  The food had been cold for a long time before she summoned the strength to get up and throw it away.  Then she stood over the open trash can a while, debating whether to try and hold it together, or just throw up and get it over with.  She eventually managed to keep her stomach steady enough to go back to her bedroom.  There was another trashcan in there anyway.

A sound stopped her.  From her office.  The distinct sound of something heavy falling onto the carpet.  Right as she walked past the door.

Please not this again…

She opened the door with her eyes closed.  Her mind conjured a familiar image.  A bedroom full of books and hero posters.  Bright colors and personal touches.  A child’s room.  Inko opened her eyes to her drab home office.  Some of the older case file binders slipped off the pile again.  She really needed to sort those into storage. Not today though.  She didn’t bother to pick it up.

Inko walked faster than normal the rest of the way to her room.  She doesn’t want to face the temptation to search for old toys she remembers storing in the empty closet.  Or search the walls for scuff marks from action figures tossed into them she could always see even after the walls were painted. She hid her planner on a tall shelf and put the ladder away to make it that much harder to go through it over and over looking for doctors’ appointments and school events she knew were coming up.  Finally reaching her bed brought no comfort.

Of course she knew today’s date by heart.  She hadn’t put it on a calendar in the fourteen years since she used to look at it every day.  Inko stuck her head under her pillows, as if they could block out the silent noise of her memories.  Memories of before, the time even when she was by herself, she was never alone.

Fifteen years now, today.  With a shuddering gasp, the tears finally came.  Thunder crashed outside.  It’s not fair!  Why is it still this hard after this long?  Phantom kicks in her belly joined the growing ice there.

The hardest part was she still felt like that sometimes.  Like she wasn’t really alone.  Inko didn’t believe in ghosts, but the lost of what could have been was more than haunting enough.  She felt it watching her.  Judging her. Waiting just long enough for her to settle down into a peaceful, content existence before it reared up to plague her heart all over again.  Cliché hauntings like spooky faces in the mirror or blood coming out of the drains would have been preferable.  Those would be generic enough not to remind her directly.

Rain started outside.  Her phone lit up with a notification she ignored in time with a thunderclap.  The storm was getting closer.

Maybe I should call Hisashi, the thought crossed her mind.  Maybe he’s going through this too.  She bit her lip bloody.  Her frustrated memories weren’t in question like the others.  Probably not though.  I don’t want to talk to him anyway.

Hisashi had been stuck in the denial stage of grief, which often came off as him acting like he didn’t take hers seriously.  Not a year, not even half a year looking back, after they came home from the hospital, he wanted to try again.  

“We can’t let mourning hold us up forever,” he said.  “And it’s not like we lost a once in a lifetime opportunity!  We’ve got at least another twenty years to keep trying!”

But we did lose him! she had wanted to scream.  Still did, years later.  Why didn’t he understand?  He was your loss too!  Inko wanted for the next roll of thunder, then shouted.  

“I don’t just want any baby!  I want Izuku!”

The lights went out.  The temperature rose five degrees instantly when the ceiling fan stopped going.  The rain stopped.

Power outage.  Inko sat up with a sniffle.  Turns out the notification was a warning about roving blackouts.  Of course.  Oh well. I wasn’t really in the mood to cook tonight any-

Thunder boomed even louder than before, making her jump.  Then another.  Lightning flashed outside at the same time.  It was right on top of her.

What?  I thought the typhoon wasn’t supposed to make landfall until later toni-

Another crash.  It vibrated through her bones.  Then another. The lightning lit up her whole room. Except for a shadow on the wall. Inko jolted to look, holding her breath, and found only her own shadow in the next flash.

“I’m such an idiot…”  She went for her phone again.  For peace of mind, she decided to use her data to check if an evacuation order went out. Or any updates at all really, since the weather came so much faster than the news said.  “Nothing,” she sighed annoyed.  “I hate being alone for weather like this…”

A new notification pinged.

[Mom]

Inko blinked rapidly.  The message remained.  All of her insides turned inside out in an instant, and she started crying again. Was this someone’s idea of a sick joke? No one ever got a chance to call her that.  She touched the note to open it, but nothing happened.  No app or source was displayed.  Nor did it go away after a few seconds like normal.  

“Wha- What’s going on?” she wept.  In a mix of sorrow and rage, she wound up to chunk the device across the room.  But she froze.

Outside her window, floating against the pitch-black sky, were two small orbs.  Perfectly circular and glowing.  Watching her. She didn’t dare move.  

Another ping.  She looked without moving.

[I’m sorry]

“…  What?”

For a moment, all the sounds in the world dropped out.  They all came back at ounce.

Lights flickered.  Both the ones inside and the lightning going outside.  Multiple strikes laid on top of one another.  No relief.  Thunder pounded over and over like a drum solo.  It shook the whole building.  Inko ran into the closet away from the window.  She slammed her hands over her eyes but it didn’t help.  Her terrified cried were whispers to the screams of the storm.

A child’s scream.  She heard it. Each flash of light came with a cry. The distinct sound of a little boy calling out in pain blended with unyielding nature.  It came from every direction.  Every hair on Inko’s arms stood up in fear.  She felt the charge in the air.  But she had to go out.  Her baby was crying for help.

She burst from the closet into the living room.  All the lights and appliances turned themselves on and off.  The TV showed only static between its flashes. Something drew her too it.  The storm was deafening.  It pounded through her head like a heartbeat.  The beats got faster.  The static flashes started to look like a face.  Her usual caution was abandoned as she fell to her knees and touched the screen.  The snow cleared for a single instant.  Just long enough to look like the blank eyes from the window.  She felt the heartbeat there too.

Then it stopped.  All of it. The noise and lights all went quiet and dark.  The TV went completely cold in an instant.  Inko, stunned, palmed over it looking for something.  Anything.  The pulse. Warmth.  A burnt fuse or faulty wire.  But nothing.  The rain started again.

She pulled her hands back to her lap.  Her heart was still racing and tears kept flowing down under her chin. She looked around.  Everything in the living room and kitchen looked the same. No sign of the earthquake-like convolutions the whole appartement experienced only minutes ago.  Inko combed the entire space for evidence.  An object knocked off the shelf.  A picture frame fallen from the wall.  The notifications.  Toys in the closet or scuffs in the wall.  Still not a sign.  She even stepped outside her door to check the sky.  Only light rain and shattered thunder, just like the news said the day before.

There was only one thing out of place.  Back in her bedroom, the bottom drawer of her nightstand hung open.  Inko had to steal herself before approaching it. There were only two things in there: a little green blanket, and a picture of the ultrasound.  The most recent one from her last appointment. The doctor said he was doing fine.

“Izuku…” she whispered to it in her hand.

She remembered the squealing little bundling being put in her arms for the first time.  The first time he smiled at her.  Teaching him to walk, then immediately launching into play.  Him coming home with bruises and scrapes after the kids at school were mean to him, and crying in her arms.  Then, him coming home with his first real friends in a long time. She made them all dinner. Katsudon.  That was Izuku’s favorite.

Only she didn’t remember.  The same way she didn’t really remember the toys and scuffs.  Those were fantasies.  Daydreams of what could have been.  She just thought about them so often they felt like memories. Especially today.  It was his birthday after all.  They’d fade back into vague dreams by tomorrow.  They always did.  

And she would be left with reality.  The silence.  The cold, still little hand between her fingers.  Soft cheeks without blush.  Eyes that never opened.  Clutching him too tight to her chest, knowing the second she let go he would be gone for real and it would all be over.  

But it was never over.  Inko went through this same torturous song and dance every year for fifteen now.  All the guilt and dread would subside slowly over the next one, until it all came back at once.  Just like this.

At least it’s done for now, she tried to reassure herself, climbing back into bed. It still wasn’t even noon yet.  Plenty of time for another breakdown.  Hopefully the next one won’t be, feel, as loud.  She sighed heavily into her sheets.  This sort of thing can’t be normal.  I should really try therapy again.

Against her better judgement, she kept the blanket out, and clutched it to her chest.  Static electricity pricked her fingers.  With her other hand, she reached across the bed, and tried to imagine someone else there. Not Hisashi, never him anymore.  Izuku.  He was fifteen and happy, but the storm was making him nervous so he came to lay beside her.  She remembered it like it was now.  If she closed her eyes, she could feel his warm, soft skin, with a healthy, if a little anxious heartbeat just underneath.  The mattress warped as he sighed.

“We’ll be okay.  It’s just a little rough weather,” she promised.

“Okay, Mom,” Izuku answered quietly.  “…  I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for.”  I’ll start trying to get myself together tomorrow.  For now, let me have this.

Izuku didn’t respond for a while.  “I love you.”

“I love you too, baby.  Happy birthday.”

[lieutenant-simp]

Stuck With Pity (2)

F!Reader x Wanda Maximoff

Warnings: definitely some PG-13 stuff. Cussing? Angst too but if has a happy ending this time.

Summary : After the whole fiasco in the elevator do you hash it out with Wanda or wallow in self pity. Only your friends can make you go and figure your shit out.

Not my Gif

A/N: I changed R from GN! to F! cause I wanted to. This was requested by one person, and you my friend will get what you ask for. Thank you for showing so much love to the first part too. ilysm. This was not proofread so take it as you will. Please leave me requests!!

Words: 2,202

Read the first part here !

Sitting in the elevator the tears now falling freely from her eyes Wanda can’t even muster the strength to push the button to her floor. The look in your eyes when you looked at her broke her heart, and it’s all her fault. She knew that you valued privacy, everyone did, so why did she go in your head. She just sobs silently trying to think of how to fix this.

“F-FRIDAY, t-t-take me to m-my room” She can barely get the words out before she cries harder. The only thing going through her mind is you, the emotion on your face twisting her heart more and more when she looks at you. You’re friends, you tended to make you nervous, and now she understood why. She ruins everything with you, she went against your privacy, her reasons didn’t matter, she never got permission.

The doors open slowly and she barely makes it to her bed before collapsing again. Her mind, usually in order, to keep her powers under control, but right now she can’t think of anything but you and how she messed up. All her fears were coming true, you hated her.

-

Taking the stairs two at a time, desperately trying not to fall from your distorted vision. Reaching the stairs to your floor you feel as if you cannot even get the door open fast enough. Closing your it behind you fall to the floor. You curl up pulling your legs to your chest and resting your head on them. The tears running down, subsequently wetting your knees as you cry.

Wanda hates you now, that was your worst fear. Not only did she hate you but the utter pity she felt for you. It’s why you never opened up to any of the Avengers. You’re not helpless, you’ve saved their asses multiple times in countless missions, you are far from helpless. But when Wanda looked at you, you knew she thought you were, a lost puppy, and that’s why you never opened up to any of them. Especially her, you loved her and now she thinks you need saving.

The crying subsiding you stand slowly then walk to your bedroom, stumbling slightly before falling into bed, cuddling yourself up in your blankets, and turning on the tv. If you were gonna wallow, you might as well be comfy and warm. You laugh quietly when you pick the show you watch with Wanda, a sitcom from the 50s, the tears already threatening to spill from your eyes again. You breathe slowly trying to focus on the show. You just spent half an hour crying you are not doing that again.

You don’t even register the door opening until Steve says something.

“Hey Y/N/N” You gasp and reach for your gun by your bedside table before noticing who it was. “Just me, sorry sorry. I tried knocking but you didn’t answer and I was worried and-“ you cut him off with you shaking your head. “Well, we-I was wondering what was wrong? You seemed to like my breakfasts and I- Are you crying?”

You turn your head away from him, you didn’t want him to pity you too. Now everyone was going to think you were helpless. You didn’t want to be seen as a kicked puppy.

Steve seems to understand what happened, as he was really the only one who knew your crush on Wanda. “I saw the elevator got stuck, and you were in there with Wanda, is that it?” You cry more and Steve comes over to sit on the chair next to your bed. “I’m sorry, I- should I get Nat or something to come in I don’t know what to do I -“ You cut him off

“She hates me now” You look up at Steve who is surprised by your talking again. “She-she looked in my head and she saw that I liked her, and I know she doesn’t like me back. She looked like I was just some sick animal that needed her pity” Your voice edged with anger with every word spoken. “she hates me” okay back to sad and now you’re crying.

“Well” You look at Steve, who is confused about how to help you, “I can guarantee that none of us pity you because quite frankly you don’t need us. But if it makes you feel better, I cried yesterday” You look at him puzzled. “Well Bucky was out yesterday and he got me flowers and I cried when he gave them to me, they were the ones I told him were my favorite when we trained together before we were frozen. He remembered and I cried” You just look at him more confused now. “you said you didn’t want pity, well I gave you something that made me cry so we’re even. No pity from you when I said it so now you know there isn’t pity from me”

"You didn't see her, she looked like she hated me. She saw it and I don't want to be seen as weak, especially from her" You hear Steve sigh slightly.

"Look Y/N, if she pitied you, she would've done it a long time ago, you would've noticed sooner. She has never given you any indication that she thought about you that way. You've been her shoulder to cry on before as well, you never pitied her. This shouldn't change anything." You nod at his words trying to understand them. You feel your head trying to twist them and prove him wrong, but you know he's right. Deep down you know he is, but you would never dare tell him that, it will go straight to his ego.

You laugh softly “For an old guy who isn’t good with the ladies, you know just what to say don’t you”

He claps for back gently. “What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t” He removes his hand from your back, “I have to train now, but if you need anything from me, call me”

You laugh quietly, “Of course old man”

-

Wanda sits on her bed, the tears spilling from her eyes occasionally. She sits and watches a show, your show, the 50s sitcom you watch together. She wishes she could go back to when you first started watching it.

“Wandaaaa, you pick this time” You put the remote down and cross your arms.

“No Y/N, you pick I’m making the popcorn” Wanda stands in the kitchen grabbing drinks and indeed making popcorn.

“You put it in the microwave how hard can it be” you pout at her.

“Need I remind you of last weekend when you BURNT IT?!” You gasp slightly. Your face flushing.

“You promised to not bring it up again! As an apology, I accept you picking what we watch” You grin at her in triumph.

“Fine.” That was all she said before grabbing the popcorn and sitting down next to you. Not before grabbing your feet that sat at her end of the couch and putting them on top of her when she sat. Your mouth hangs slightly open, your feet are on her lap. Quickly gaining your composure, she hands you your bag of popcorn before eating a bite of her own. You smile at her softly.

“Thank you Ms. Maximoff” you nod your head slightly in appreciation. Before laughing at the groan Wanda gives you. She puts on a sitcom you haven’t seen before. It looks old. You hear Wanda gasp at you.

“It’s not that old, besides it’s good, you’ll like it” You grin sheepishly at her.

“Did you just read my mind ?” you ask laughing. “Ms. Maximoff how scandalous” She laughs at you.

“You think loud it is not my fault“ You grin at her a blush spreading across your face. You really did love her. And she loved you, you guys just didn’t know it yet.

Wanda sits on her bed, the show, your show, still playing, it's been an hour. Occasionally she’ll cry but it has mostly subsided, her thought however never strayed far from you, your face. Too lost in thought to hear her door being knocked on before a certain redhead slips in. Wanda only notices her company when she feels the bed dip down slightly.

"Hey, Nat" Wand gives her, her best grin. Her voice however hoarse and dry and it hurt to speak. "Wanda, we have been friends for a while now, I don't need to read minds to know that you're upset" She reaches out slightly to grab the other girl's shoulder. Wanda sighs softly, the tears already threatening to spill again.

“I- She hates me, Nat. She hates me. I-I read her mind and she hates me. I was trying to help her and then she looked at me and she was so upset with me and I know I shouldn’t have read her mind but I couldn’t help it. I don’t know what to do. All I seem to do is mess everything I love up. It’s only a matter of time before you leave too” Her words laced with anger at the last sentence. She looks up at Nat with tears in her eyes.

“Oh Wands. She doesn’t feel that what. You’ve read her mind countless times and she never reacted like this. You need to talk to her and- wait did you say that you loved her? Like in a friend way or-?” Wanda just buries her head in her hands.

“No, I love her. I just want to kiss her and tell her how much she means to me and I am always there for her and that she can always rely on me. She means everything to me” She groans “But I fucked it all up like I always do”

“Wanda, it’s okay. She very clearly feels the same way you just need to tal-“ Wanda glared at her

“You didn’t see her eyes, the way she looked at me, she hates me”

“Wanda, she doesn't hate you. she's in her room crying. Your her friend go help her. If you don't want her to actually hate you, go to her.” Wanda seems to nod as if she’s finally understanding. she stands abruptly.

She walks to the kitchen quickly grabbing the popcorn. Her anxiety rises every second that passes and she passes into the hall to the elevator. She waits patiently for it to reach your floor. She walks quickly to your bedroom door before she overthinks it too much and goes back to her room.

Her hand hovers over the door when it opens in front of her. Steve? He's coming out of your room, you guys were close I guess it makes sense but the little pit of jealousy is still there. Steve grabs Wanda arm gently before whispering in her ear

“Please don’t hurt her” Wanda can only nod before going in. She closes the door behind her. She looks at you and your eyes are red and swollen. You turn away from her.

“Why are you here?” It comes out as barely a whisper. If she wasn’t so focused on you she wouldn’t have heard it.

“I’m sorry, for going into your head. I just wanted to know what was wrong. I’m sorry for invading your privacy” You shake your head gently.

“No Wanda, that’s not why I’m upset” She looks at you, confusion written on her face. “I love you, and you don’t feel the same way. You looked at me, and you saw how much I cared for you and you felt bad. You- You pitied me and we’ve talked about how I feel about that before. You know I don’t want that, not from you. Wanda, you mean everything to me. I don’t want you to look at me as if I’m helpless though. I just, I care about what you think, I care about you. I know I’m rambling but I cannot go another day without telling you how I fe-“ You freeze, you feel soft lips on yours, Wanda's. You kiss back and wrap your arms around her waist. She kisses you gently.

“I love you too Y/N, I could never pity you, you’re so capable, and every day I’m jealous of how much you can do on your own” You smile at her.

“You mean that?” She shakes her head and you pull her in for another kiss. This one hungrier, rougher. You pull her on top of you, her legs move to straddle your hips. The food she brought was long forgotten. Her hands move to your hair pulling you closer. You pull back for air, the widest grin spreads across your face.

“You’re absolutely perfect” Wanda leans her head against yours. Before she kisses you back, pouring all her emotions into it. Your hands still resting at her sides. She stands slowly. “Stay please” She smiles at you.

“Of course Y/N/N, I wasn't planning on it” You smile and lean back onto your bed outstretching your hands. She laughs. She puts the popcorn she brought next to you as she climbs into your arms. Her head resting on your chest. “I love you too.”

[toastedkiwi]

Wrong Cards

Summary: on a fateful day, Chris meets you.

Pairing: Chris Evans x Teen!Reader

Warning: angsty, death, gun violence, blood, shitty childhood.

You haven’t had the easiest life. In all your 14 years on this earth, it’s been hell. You’ve been on the streets. You’ve been moved around all over the country and put into homes only to be shooed away. It became very apparent that nobody wanted you or cared. Not even teachers. You’ve dealt with abuse, bullying, pretty much any nasty thing that a kid shouldn’t have to deal with. A kid should be loved and wanted and taken care of but it seemed like you ended up with the short straw way too many times. Until you met Chris.

It was dark all around except for the parking lot light. You and Issac had gotten into a scuffle by these gangsters— wannabe gangsters. Punches were thrown along with threats. Then a gun went off. He was this 12 year old you met— he lost his home and his abusive parents. You were looking out for him. You had gotten in front of him and took the hits and beatings. But Issac took the bullet.

Chris heard your crying and calling out for help. He ran. He pulled out his phone and came around a truck to see the scene. Your hands are covered in blood as you’re doing chest compressions on your dying friend. He can tell that you’re way too young and Issac is way too young to be shot. You’re just kids.

“Help! Please!” You begged.

Chris dials 9-1-1 and presses call. He pulls off his scarf and gets on his knees. He puts his scarf over the wound that oozes blood. He holds it down with one hand while the other holds his phone and he already feels the warm blood soak through the fabric.

“911, what’s your emergency?” The operator asked.

“A- A kid’s been shot,” Chris said as calmly as he could for you. “He’s losing a lot of blood. You gotta hurry.”

“Where are you, sir? And is the shooter still around?”

Chris gives the street and said, “I don’t know. Probably.”

He’s told to stay on the line so he puts the phone on speaker and puts it on the ground. Chris can see that you’re struggling.

“Switch with me, kid,” Chris said.

You looked up at him with a quiver of the lip. You nod and it’s a quick switch. He’s doing chest compressions and you’re applying pressure to the wound.

“What happened?” Chris asked.

“I- I can’t tell y-you,” you said.

You both hear the sirens of the cop cars and the ambulance. He looks at you to see your own face has been beaten. Your bottom lip is slit and bleeding. You have a cut over your right eye brow and it’s also bleeding. Your cheek is starting to bruise already.

“What happened?” Chris asked.

You kept your mouth shut. The ambulance rolls into the parking lot following a cop car. The paramedics rushed over. The cops immediately asked where the shooter is and you pointed the way to them. They head off and the paramedics take over. Chris has to pull you away from Issac. More cops show up.

“No pulse,” one of the paramedics said. “Shocking to 200. —Clear.”

You clenched your jaw tightly as you watched them try to bring your friend back alive. A cop is trying to talk to you. You haven’t slept in days. You haven’t had a proper meal in months. You don’t even know what day it is. And you’re numb.

“He’s gone,” are the words that you hear.

You screamed and cried. Chris stops you. He can’t believe the situation he’s in at the moment. He doesn’t know you at all. He doesn’t know the kid that’s dead on the wet asphalt of the parking lot. He just wraps his arms around you. You fight against him but you’re weak. You’re not that strong and Chris is an adult who religiously works out.

“Stop, stop,” Chris said. “He’s gone.”

You cried harder and managed to put all your strength into clutching onto Chris. He’s keeping you on your feet. If he wasn’t holding you, you’d be running till you have to stop and then you might be dead somewhere else.

~~~~~next day

“Y/n, you’ve got a visitor,” Andrew, a nurse, said coming into the room.

Chris Evans followed behind with a giant gift bag. You recognize him from last night. The one person who came when you called for help.

“Hey,” Chris said coming into the room. “I got you something.”

You’re left alone with the actor. He places the bag in your lap. You’re very confused. You’ve never have been given anything in these 14 plus years on this earth. It’s a first.

“Why?” You asked.

He sits down on the edge of the bed and faces you.

“Just open it,” he said.

You squinted at him. He grabs the pink tissue paper and tosses it behind himself.

“There,” Chris said. “Now, you pull out what I got for you.”

You pull out this LEGO set and Chris pulls away the now empty bag. You look at the front. It’s the Super Hero Airport Battle with Captain America, the Winter Soldier, Scarlet Witch, Iron Man, War Machine, and Antman.

“Why are they fighting?” You asked. “Superheroes don’t fight each other.”

“You haven’t seen the movie?” He asked.

You shook your head no and said, “I’ve only seen Iron Man 3.”

“Really?” He asked surprised. “Just Iron Man 3?”

“Yeah. That was when I had parents that wanted me,” you said and you looked back at the box of legos.

“What happened?” Chris asked. “If you don’t mind me asking.”

“They’re dead like Issac,” you said. “They died in a fire. The house burnt down.”

“That sucks,” Chris said looking at you.

“I know,” you said. “Now, you didn’t answer my question. Why are they fighting?”

“There’s this document called the Sokovia Accords. All these countries wanted all the superheroes to sign them,” Chris started telling you. “And make the superheroes liable for their mistakes. The governments of the countries wanted to tell the heroes where they can go help and where they can’t even if people need help.”

“That’s stupid,” you said.

“Right. It’s pretty stupid. So, Iron Man, War Machine, and a few other Avengers signed the accords but Captain America was like, ‘fuck that.’ And so the Avengers were split,” Chris said. “They had one team— Team Cap, obviously the best team and they had another one- Team Iron Man.”

“Who wins?” You asked.

“Nobody. They’re divided,” he said simply.

“All because of the government?” You asked.

“Pretty much,” Chris said.

“Thats fucked up,” you said.

“Language,” he said.

“That’s messed up!” You corrected sarcastically.

“Much better,” Chris said with a shit eating grin on his face. “Why don’t we get started on building the set?”

He pulls over the table. You sit yourself up crisscross even though there’s pain in your ribs and abdomen but you haven’t asked for any painkillers. Chris gets onto the bed more invading your space.

“Take off your shoes, you wild animal. Haven’t you learned anything?” You sassed.

He immediately takes off his shoes giving you this exaggerated annoyed look. He gets onto the bed and sits across from you crisscross. You try to pick off the tape. He lets you struggle trying to get open the box.

“What’s your favorite superhero?” Chris asked but he has a feeling that it’s Iron Man.

“Whoever can get the stupid ass box open,” you said putting the box on the table in between the two of you.

Chris chuckles and takes the box. He rips it open and tears the back wide open.

“There we go,” he said putting it on the table.

“That was obnoxious,” you said looking at him.

He just smiled cheekily. You just shook your head.

“Alright, lets get building,” Chris said rubbing his hands together.

“You sure you didn’t bring this so you could build it yourself?” You asked.

“Excuse me?! I’m helping you build it,” he said and mocked offense.

“Sure,” you said sarcastically and taking out the instruction book.

Chris rolled his eyes. He knows for a fact that he’ll come back tomorrow to visit you.

“What’s your favorite movie?” Chris asked.

“Iron Man 3,” you said opening bag one on the table.

“I know Iron Man,” he announced.

“Are you trying to impress me? Like I don’t get it. I don’t even understand why you’re here and why you’re in the bed across from me or why you’re trying to get to know me by asking questions,” you said. “Don’t you have something better to do instead of spending time with a stupid ass foster kid that nobody wants?”

“First of all, you aren’t stupid. You’re smarter than you think you are. Secondly, I want to spend time with you. I want to get to know you,” Chris said.

“No, you don’t. You just feel bad for me,” you said.

“Honestly, yeah, I do feel bad—,” he said.

“Get out,” you said without hesitation.

“Let me finish,” Chris said.

“No! Get out!” You yelled pushing the legos off the table. “I don’t need you! I don’t need your fucking pity!”

“Y/n,” Chris said.

“GET OUT!” You screamed.

He sighs and slides off the bed. He grabs his shoes and quickly puts them on.

“GET OUT!” You yelled.

Chris finally leaves. Your jaw clenched tightly and tears streamed down your cheeks.

“Dude, you literally kicked out Captain America,” Andrew said shaking his head.

“Leave me alone!” You yelled.

~~~~~next day

Chris walks into the room with a fuzzy blanket, his iPad Pro, and a bag of snacks. The LEGO set is built and off to the side on the table. You’re so far in the bed on the edge that you might fall off. You’ve also been crying. Chris puts the things he brought on a chair except the giant fuzzy blanket. He covers you with the blanket. You looked at him with your eyes red and puffy.

“I told you to get out,” you said.

“That was yesterday,” Chris said grabbing the snacks and his iPad. “Today is a new day.”

He kicks off his shoes and puts the snacks in your lap. He gets into the bed. You try pushing him off. But he’s a 38 year old man. He plants himself right next to you laying on top of the blankets.

“I do feel bad. No kid should’ve seen another kid die or be shot, Y/n,” Chris said opening up his iPad. “I don’t know what else you’ve gone through but I know that it sucked for you and it’s unfair. You should be dealing with high school drama instead but you got dealt the wrong cards, kid. It’s not fair at all.”

He looks at you to find that you have this frustrated look on your face as tears streamed down your cheeks. He puts his arm around you and pulls you into his side. You bury your face into his side and shut your eyes closed tightly. You choked out a sob. His other arm wraps around you and he holds you tightly as you cry.

“You’re gonna be alright,” he said softly. “You’ll make it through all of this.”

You continued to cry and Chris did his best to soothe and console you. He honestly doesn’t know what he’s doing. He just knows he’s gotta protect you.

“Let’s watch a movie,” Chris said as you calmed down a bit.

“W-What movie?” You asked quietly.

“I was thinking Iron Man 1,” Chris said opening his iPad back up.

“You- you have it?” You asked with your eyes lighting up.

“Yup,” he said nodding.

He opened up the collection of movies he houses on the iPad. He scrolls through until he finds it. He taps on it and plays the movie. He looks to see that you’re already entranced. It brings a smile to his face and he turns his focus back on the screen.

The two of you crashed as the credits of Iron Man 2 rolled on the screen.

“Would it be alright if I adopted you?” Chris asked when you two woke up from your impromptu nap.

“Don’t be saying shit like that if you don’t mean it,” you said immediately sitting up and looking at the actor.

“I mean it, Y/n. You don’t have to be dealing with terrible foster parents or being homeless cause it’s better than the other places you’ve been. I got room in my house,” Chris said sitting up. “I got air conditioning.”

“You’re- you’re lying. You don’t want me,” you cried.

He wrapped his arms around you and held you close. You tried your hardest to fight against his hold but he doesn’t budge.

“When have I lied to you?” Chris asked as you cried into his shoulder. “Have I lied to you since we met?”

You shook your head no and he rubbed your back.

“Then I’m not lying now. I’d like to adopt you if you let me,” Chris said.

“O-Okay,” you sniffled.

Chris smiled and pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

~~~~few weeks later

You were first greeted by a very happy Dodger. He jumped on you which freaked you out and you tensed up looking at the dog warily.

“Dodger,” Chris said grabbing Dodger by his collar.

He gently pulls Dodger away and you went back outside. He looks over his shoulder to see you descend down the porch steps. He puts down your backpack that has all you have in it and he takes Dodger outside with him.

“Dodger is very excitable. He loves people,” Chris said sitting down beside you but giving enough space in between. “Sit, Dodger.”

Dodger sits down planting his ass on Chris’ foot. Chris chuckles and pets his furry friend. He makes sure that Dodger doesn’t do anything to you.

“You okay?” Chris asked looking at you.

You shrugged your shoulders and looked away. You sniffled and tried your hardest not to cry. Chris watches as you hold yourself with your arms wrapped around yourself.

“I- I don’t w-want to get attached to him or- or you,” you whimpered with your voice trembling.

Chris slides closer and wrapped his arms around you.

“It’s okay to get attached, Y/n,” Chris said.

“B-But everyone dies!” You exclaimed looking at him with tears streaming down your cheeks. “My parents died. My sister died. My adoptive parents died. Issac is dead! He died right in front of me. Everyone I get attached to dies, Chris. You’re just gonna be one of them.”

“Yeah, I know. I’m not immortal and neither is Dodger and neither are you. Death is inevitable and you’ve dealt with it a lot. The world hasn’t been kind to you,” he said running his fingers through your hair. “You’ve lost so many people and I’m not going anywhere anytime soon.”

“Y-you don’t know that,” you said.

“You’re right. I don’t but it would be a dick move on the world’s part,” Chris said.

You let out a small laugh as he pulled you into his side more. Your arms wrapped around his torso.

“C’mon, let’s go inside,” he said.

You nodded but you don’t move. He chuckles. He stays put for a little longer and holds you.

[hermankopusortizorsumshite]

“Why did Hondo want everyone in today?” She asks as she walks in right behind Luca. He sits in the last available chair, leaving her searching for a seat. Swiping Luca’s elbows from his knees, she perches on his knees. They kept their work life very professional; so professional in fact, that no one knew they’d been dating for a year.

“I’m not sure.” Street shrugs. Luca’s long arms rest on her shoulders very relaxed.

“You two should date. Wouldn’t they be cute?” Cortez points as she walks in with Hondo, smiling at Ann with a knowing smile.

“Look more like friends to me.” Street shrugs, tapping Ann’s shoulder with a chuckle.

“Alright, sorry for ruining your days off. We’ve got a problem downtown. There’s a foster agency being held up. A dad looking for his son. The son’s been placed in a good home, dad’s abusive. They guy has shot two of the workers and is holding twelve other kids hostage. These are kids. You guys know, we gotta save ‘em. Gear up, Black Betty in ten minutes.” The team disappeared, congregating five minutes later dressed and ready to go. As they roll towards the agency, her heart thundered. The team loved children, and for children to be in danger whose worlds have already been turned upside down isn’t right.

“Luca, Ann take the left side, wait for my signal. Chris, Street take the right. Keep each other safe. Tan and Deacon are going through the back to escort the kids out.” Hondo directs his team as they break off. She and Luca head to the left side door. She enters first on Hondo’s go and sees a little girl, holding a finger to her lips. “I’ll be back baby.” She assures and continues on, signaling one person in that room, a kid. Once everyone’s in position, Hondo starts talking to the guy. They needed the man distracted so she could get to the two kids in the closet right behind him. At the closet door, she ushers the first little girl out and Luca gets her safely out. The second one starts to cry loudly and catches the man’s attention.

“Honey listen to me. This vest is gonna protect you okay? You put this on and hold it tight. You see that guy at the door? He’s gonna get you out safely. Okay? Hold onto your super vest and run.” She assures, giving her Kevlar to the little girl. With a confident smile, the little girl takes off towards Luca, who could no longer see Ann.

“Did that nice lady give you this?” He asks, eyes falling on the Kevlar. His heart stopped. His sweet girlfriend was in there alone, no Kevlar. “Hondo, Ann gave the little girl her Kevlar.” He stammers, a cold sweat on his forehead. He was so scared. A few shots echoed, and Tan comes out with a kid draped over his shoulder and shouting about a bus. Luca stalked back and forth, hands shaking at his sides, chewing on the inside of his cheek.

Ann took her chance to jump on the guy, knocking him and his gun to the ground. She felt a sting of a gunshot, but she didn’t think another second about it. The adrenaline kept her moving as she strutted out the front of the building with the man. Luca heaves a huge sigh, sprinting to her, handing off the man and gripping her in a hug.

“Holy christ. You gave up your Kevlar? Why?” He digs, giving her a concerned look.

“She was too scared. Anyway, let’s go home. I need some Netflix.” She chuckles, holding her side as she got into Black Betty. She nodded off on the ride back, suddenly exhausted. No one found it exceptionally strange because she often fell asleep on the ride. Luca was the last one out, offering to grab her.

“Hey, hey you ready babes?” He hushes, shaking her shoulder.

“Yeah.” She whispers, standing and making her way into the car.

Once they were home, she went out onto the balcony with a glass of whiskey and started to inspect her injury. It still burnt pretty badly, like a hundred bees were stinging her, and she was so tired.

“Shit.” She murmurs, grabbing at her side when she saw the hole in her stomach.

“Babe?” She was dizzy, her heart hammering in her chest as she grabbed the railing to steady herself. Blood was never her strong suit. She had totally forgotten she’d given her vest up. She never once thought that she’d been shot. With a dizzying stumble for the chair, she trips over the table leg and the low railing on the north side had her falling over the ledge and landing flat on her back on the ground below. Staring up at the sky, she felt her heart slowly quit beating.

“Babe?” Luca thought he’d seen her on the balcony. Actually he was sure he’d seen her on the balcony. She’d been acting super strange since her arrest today. She appeared to be in a lot of pain, but she didn’t say anything. He looked across their little balcony, it’s emptiness was odd. A shriek lets out from the ground. Luca looks over the edge to find Ann sprawled like a rag doll tossed aside. His feet carried him to her, his heart ramming against his chest as he dropped to his knees. Hauling her into his lap he calls for an ambulance. People began coming from their houses.

“It’s okay babe. It’s okay. I love you. Hold on, baby. Help is coming.” He sobs, rocking her. His heart imploded, he couldn’t breathe. His whole world was lying still in his arms. He sobbed and cried until the ambulance showed up.

“Luca, Luca, let go. Let go.” Hondo whispers, pulling Luca away from her as the ambulance loaded her up and took her away. The wailing sirens slowly faded, but Luca’s heart was still jamming.

He couldn’t breathe.

Ann.

His sweet, loving girlfriend.

His favorite person.

The love of his life.

His angel.

Hondo watched as the zombie that Luca became wandered into the house for the keys to his bike.

“Luca! Let me drive you.” Hondo leads him to his car and they head for the hospital.

One hour.

Two hours.

Three hours.

“Family of Ann?” Luca jumped to his feet and ran to the doctor, his eyes bloodshot and puffy. “She’s suffered a few dislocated vertibrae and shoulder, a fractured ulna, and she suffered a concussion. She will be fine, given how badly she’s fought already.

“Can I see her?” Luca drives, nose twitching back and forth as he sniffs to keep from crying more. With a hesitant look, the doctor nods.

“She’s currently in a coma. Medically induced to give her body a chance to heal. It should only be about a week or two before she can wake up an get moving. We also found a gunshot wound we treated from earlier. Do you know how that happened?” Luca’s eyes drifted down the hall as they got to her room.

“Yeah, she’s SWAT. She tackled a guy in a house full of kids and got shot. She gave a little girl her Kevlar so she’d feel safe enough to leave the house.

“Wow, she sounds like a real hero.”

“Yeah.” He hushes, letting the doctor lead the way.

“Mister Luca, don’t be concerned at the amount of cords and wires. It’s all protocol.” The doctor informs as they head into the room. Luca’s eyes land on her and he stumbles, falling to the floor.

“Oh christ baby. I’m so sorry.” He sobs.

He went home and sat on the couch, cuddling her pillow against his body.

Luca found it harder to breathe as he walked into SWAT. He only thought about her.

“Luca? Go home.” Cortez calls from the doorway.

“No, I wanna—“

“You’re not sound. Please go home.” Luca hangs his head and nods.

Once at home alone, he filters through his memories like a movie. When the memory of her lying on the ground hits him, he folds against the pressure and collapses on the couch. A blanket they often shared during movie night falls into his lap and he hugs it, bawling so hard his breaths come out in gasps.

“I’m so sorry.” He cries, trying to stand only to hit the floor.

Two months passed like years, Luca found it hard to even get up ten minutes before work.

“Luca!” Chris shouts as she sprints into the squad room, grabbing the blonde’s arm and dragging him out of SWAT. Shoving him in the car, Street floors it towards the hospital.

“What’s going on?” Luca shouts. No one responds as Street hits the siren and lights as they fly into the hospital parking lot. “You guys, please tell me what’s going on?” He begs, his voice wavering.

“Come on!” Chris shouts as Deacon and Hondo fly up next to them. The team disembarks and starts towards the hospital. Luca sprints with the team, still confused. They run through the hospital, shouting ‘gimme two gimme two’ as they get to her room. Luca was so confused and scared. Everyone was so serious.

“Luca! Open that door!” Hondo calls, waving to her door. Luca flicks open the door, everyone filing in. Luca’s last. “Right side clear!” Hondo calls.

“Left side clear!” Street shouts.

“Target sighted!” Deacon calls, grinning at her with everyone else.

“Luca! Take down the target!” Chris shouts, and Luca slips through the crowd to find her sitting up in bed. Grinning and reaching for him.

“Holy shit.” He whispers, hands reaching for her and tears filling his eyes, throat thick with tears.

“Hi Dom.” She whispers as he hugs tightly to her.

“Baby. Holy shit.” He whimpers, gripping handfuls of her gown in his hands and hugging tightly.

“You guys are so silly.” She giggles, giving each team member a hug.

“You almost look ready to come back.” Hondo chuckles.

“Oh no. No she’s not getting anywhere near SWAT for a while.” Luca barks, holding her against him. He hadn’t quit crying the whole time. Tears still streaked his face as he held her. “I love you so much, Ann. You can’t ever do some crazy shit like that again. Do you understand?” He warns against her hair, his nose pressed right above her ear.

“I love you too, babes.” She giggles.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@annluca hey boo!! Hope this is okay!! I’m so sorry it took so long! I’ve been trying to find the right way to write this, and I wrote a few different scenarios but this one came out the best. Hope you like it!! Thank you for the request!!

[thattimdrakeguy]

To Forget a Familiar Name (A story, but not a book.)

Please don’t forget, books have their end. We’re only stories to be told briefly, by some in single breaths.

Life’s simple pleasures can only last for so long. The feeling of a cool breeze against your thumb. The even colder months. A sensation, one that made you smile so wide, of a cold and soothing stream running through your toes and sometimes up to your thighs. The simple acknowledgement of a warm, comfortable home with a dog and blanket awaiting you, as your parents yelled cheese. This dog seemed to be a pug. Ironically she seemed quite catty, but she was dearly loved. 

Human-kind depends on these things. That’s something to remember. They make our soul feel weightless and happy, no longer as disgusted or dismayed, as we might’ve been a previous day, but able to feel something glad. That’s what we should always feel. Make another day feel important and grand. 

Life has itself made. Miniature miracles that make it a journey to take around the corner. Never disremember, the footpath that we travel is powerful and our own, no matter if it lags, but even that path shall eventually sag and reach its end as others go on and prosper happy and glad. That we can’t forget. Could take a wrong turn, that’s always a risk, but that decision so long ago isn’t going to return, while we must continue and keep going forward and on. We can’t always sit and wait. We might miss our date. Wouldn’t want to stop so early and alleviate. Pain could end sooner. But continue on, friend, and make the world your oyster.

Inside, in your home, by the fire, as your meal was being prepared in your stove, near your pet for now, with a good book to read, having your favorite drink, your favorite show on, it’s your favorite time to dwell as well. Wasn’t it just so precious, and undeniably swell? This was a comfy domicile and it was yours. Celebrate that and cheer. These are all things we hope to have, but they are simply not for all so equally. Some aren’t as blessed, some never had the feelings or your simple comfort. But don’t you worry, the sand that is our life would be colder without your inner glow. Another passenger to crash because another has no car wouldn’t solve a thing. Take comfort in the fact that inside your home, as you're on the phone, that these are here to stay.

There’s no need to worry about the day where that won’t be the case. It’s here and now, this isn’t future town. It’s the present day, you can feel the sun on your face, no more moles, just a fine glass, and a hand that you can hold. The palm that has texture you can recognize as a friend, or perhaps even more. You might switch it out, go to dine, but it’s that sensational fever, an inner beam, that makes you never feel low. That was the real treat. Did you need anything more?

An empty house, a crooked beam, a chilling wind, no slippers, no shoes, no sandals, look down and it’s only cold feet. When did you get here? Was it quickly? Did you make this decision? You might want to retreat. Until you realize you can’t no more.

The snow is friendly as long as you're warmed up. Make new friends with the space around you. You could use a carrot as a treat, or you could use it as a nose. Along with some rocks that your future kids will soon trot over as the eyes to give this friend some magical life all of it his own. You know it’s not real. It’s only imagination. But wouldn’t it be grand to make it awake? To give it this treat without human stakes? What a dream, what a laugh, it’s a gaffe, but you put that wish to sleep. Not everything was meant to last.

Welcome to spring, your kids are now here. Their cheery smiles, their infectious laughter, they make messes, but you love them like treasure. The eyes you can see on their face, why they’re like yours. You gave them a blessing, you gave them a life, and these ones won’t double as a potential frozen treat. This you can hug, without melting at your feet.

That game you wanted, and wished for, and listed. It’s past its release. No more time to play it. You have to sleep and be rested for bed much like your children. The temperature feels colder, but yet it’s the same. Another day ends, and another starts. Repeats many times, but now it’s like a thump. You feel a lump. Gravity seems to get harsher, and granted seems harder to hold. There’s your son, he’s got something of some sort, yell at him to tell him to wait.

More grass, but this isn’t comfy. This grass is sad, and not so alive. The trees have no leaves. This wind isn’t friendly. It seems like it’s raining, it’s water, but not like the streams. What was warmth like anymore? The sun was out yesterday, and it wasn’t warm then. For some reason the lights even seemed dimmed.

You remember your life for a second, your mother, and boy she was a hugger. Picking you, swinging you around, giving you all the love you could ever wish and desire. Then was your father who loved you as a child, and that sensation even when he left the nation, never felt flat, and certainly not when he came back. Where were they now? They were no longer around. Could they not make it? This didn’t seem fair. Bring me back home, this instant you hear.

Where am I? This isn’t my bed. Who is this in my dreams? I don’t know anyone named Kyle. My face looked like a disgrace. My hair was now gray. My skin looked in the midst of decay. Crying all around me. I didn’t get it. What was so sad? I only woke up a little lost. Which is where they should be going just about now. They were strangers they were. So many light blue outfits behind them. Several long white jackets. This didn’t feel fantastic.

Gravity must be mad, it’s going extra hard. Fuck, never mind this. I want my home again. It’s been too long since I’ve been home again. They cry for me to come back, but fuck them I say. I don’t need this. Certainly not now, and not then. When was then? Oh who gave a fuck. The time is now, and that’s all that mattered. This wasn’t future town.

Where were my friends? What were their names? I do remember that they were around this place. Right beside me. Might as well been right there. But they were the ones that were lost. Where was the familiarity? What was this fate? I remember going on dates, and being fed grapes. This wind is too harsh, I could fall down, but screw these people, this isn’t my town.

Walking’s much harder, and breathing felt like a fight. I just want to see my dog’s face again, my dad, my mate’s, my mother too. Was I so lost that I’m forever gone? I think something looking like my street is only over yonder. Only so many more feet. What grabbed me? I’ve landed harshly and I feel defeat. Must I crawl? How humiliating and all, but I have to get to warmth, I miss it desperately, and how.

Who would even miss me? I hear yelling, but for who? Was that my name? I’m fighting this destiny. All seems blue, even my flesh that was now covered in moles, but I’ve had that before, and I’ll beat it again. The windows into other houses, they look quite right but who were these fellows? No more Frankie, and Bobby, but they still seem almost familiar. Those were the same eyes, but not faces or taste. They were having fine dining, I wish I could join, but my bed and my dog, they were for me. Could I just stop feeling oh so tired, fucking please. My feet felt stabbed, my arms were wasted. Time was eating at me, like I was finally toasted and smoked, about to be served at Thanksgiving.

The doorstep. I finally made it. It smells just right, and this carpet was nice. Whoever picked it out must’ve been a heckuva guy. All these photos around, so many people. Ha. Who ever could they be? There was a TV with a DVD or Blu Ray of my favorite show. Finally here and rested. Now where was my dog and my favorite blanket? That’s what life is. Not feeling sophisticated and cooked like bacon. So hot outside? Or maybe it was cold. Heard something about getting burnt by freeze, maybe that’s what it is. Couldn’t be much after all.

I’m here now in my familiar town. Something amiss, but I didn’t feel like having a fit. This was my chair and that was my favorite drink on the counter. Why does this box of ashes have the name of my favorite mate? The one on four legs and had the funny face. This couldn’t be right. Who’s home was this? I didn’t remember walking in here. This can’t be right. Why is this room so bright?

It’s all I could see. I’m scared. I’m cold. My blood is running so thin. I wanted a hug, just be picked up and flung. To eat picnics while the birds hummed. This couldn’t be right. Those pictures, who were they? What did I look like? My answer already gone as I laid. My memory was defeated, while I lied in my kitchen, or was it the bedroom? Could’ve been the bathroom it all felt so similar. My skin felt rough and sagging. Had I finally gotten old? When did this happen? Somebody, please. I feel like my life is only a disease, and I won’t have it. I lived in a mystery town now. Oh, god, how?

Crying. Not again, only this time it was me. I haven’t cried in years, or maybe just weeks. This was pathetic, I had to get up. What was going on? What was this? My body felt lifted above. But not by hands, nor human help. Everything felt faded. Goodbye. Wait to who? Was that to myself? Please, this can’t be it. I felt so young, had I already been spent? This was it? All those years gone, and done, and this is all that happened, with only seconds remaining? Stranger’s for neighbors, and my known family already retired to the same place where I’ll be retreating?

All this and not even a dog, or a last kiss. My final meal was through a tube. This was so vile. Make it come back, I’m desperate, and pleading. All I feel is nothing but cold and beaten. A soft voice tells me something “Oh god, oh no.” tell me about it. One last touch on my hand. I wish I could speak. I would beg and grovel to my feet. I had to know. Who was this final stranger? The last hand I’ll ever hold onto, and the final voice before my end. 

All too soon, and too dang slow is how it felt. This was my finale, I’ll never be seen again. Should I want it to drag out, or take me out to a quick end? Was this all worth it? Even those simple comforts?

Years, and days and weeks, all the seasons. The smiles from the faces of people already deleted. All in memory, and now mine was gone. That moment forever turned to dust. Experiences, unique, all to our own, never to be talked about, not even in this home. Where was I to go? Would it be kind? Angel kisses and meeting the divine? My life with my dog, and my short-lived kitten, bring them back, please. I need it. I’m bleeding.

No more time for pleading, and time took no breaks. I could smell the breath of a demonic snake. It seemed like smoke, oddly burnt. Could that be my stove? Did I really start baking? The screams I heard, telling those to run. Was this the after-life or my own abode? This is all I caused. My body now rusted and almost roasted. Buried to rubble. My legacy in spades. Was this happening the whole time? I couldn’t believe it. It couldn’t have. I’ve gone nuts.

Me and my friends, those old-timey woes. The yarns we told, and bars we traveled to and fro. To feel so small and treated like a kitten in a mother’s arms, or on a father’s chest.

Those all felt so temporary, but this was it. All that to never be known ever again. At least by this body and mind. An artifact left to time. I sighed. I felt like the last of my kind. Pieces of existence decimated and depleted. It all held within me, but now I’m apart and seething. Burning away, and choking on soot.

I could imagine the sight, and those strangers having a fight. To save me or not? Could it be done? I suppose that was my family. What have I done?

Thinking to myself in this long drawn out moment, would one choose to exist, even after the run? I’d had to assume heck no, but who would know? Maybe the challenges we faced, looking down on our dead, living as a fecked up human race that destroyed all around us. We caused so much damage. But it was a part of us. Maybe some more unfortunate would give it a go. I feel bad, cause what a poor fucker if this was much better. Everything was empty like it didn’t matter.

Would those be legends too, for as long as time exists? Our only existence. Or would we too, as humans, begin to truly cease to exist.

Those memories that we become, and represent all that we exist once our bodies are torn, and our souls stop blinking, and we’re let out like a leaking liquid, as we become no more. How long could they travel? One day we’ll all be gone, and in the timeline we’re not even a blimp or a bump on the road. There was a much bigger picture and we exist as a skin cell laid across the page to become one with it, but nothing on our own.

All these inventions, and shows. Those festival lights that we glowed. All such happy times, and no longer remembered? I think I know what hell is, and it gave me my last shiver. How I had that in heat, that answer would never be delivered.

Crashing down around me, all that I knew. I’d be turned to dust with my best fluffy pal. It’d be poetic if not so horrific. That box, if only it could be kept. That’s what I want. For my friend to never be forgotten even if I remained unforgiven. These seconds left, and no breath for me to shout in my despair. All the latest bad memories that had transpired, that’s all that’s left of me. All my accomplishments couldn’t be recovered, they were going with me because of all this trouble.

What could be my last thought? Or what should be my last thought? Would I know my last thoughts? What were my last words? Man, I could barely remember. “Fuck you?” Huh, guess that was believable, and most likely true. If not right, I was to never know. I suppose I deserve that for causing these flames. Was I ever even married? Were they happy when they left? Or are they standing there depressed and angry as they watch this blaze. They’re probably a mess. One that I caused but could no longer fix. That chapter is gone and finally written.

This was so retched, so bastardized and dull. What was this rubbish? My last cough, oh now I feel it. I could see them now, that really shouldn’t be. I felt like I was 15 feet in the air. Guess this really was my defeat.

All I am is memories in their head, like all those that were traveling with me, lonely and minute. Their travels are now done and I’m bringing them with me. Yet I’m not all too elated.

I can see all that was no longer to be, as I go to see what’s going to last as my forever and maybe haven. I hope it’s as precious as they were to me. No laughing or crying, or desperate action. They were all that remained of me, yet I made their life feel like a prison.

Turned out that I had my last thought. It was that I was sorry, a whole lot.

[blurry-fics]

Chapter Seventeen

Prove Me Wrong | Series Masterlist

Warnings: Angst, profanity

Word Count: 2000

Author’s Note: Just a heads up, this chapter goes back in time a little bit! I know the chapters have been pretty linear up to this point, but I wanted to show how both the reader and Tyler reacted to what happened, so I rewinded a little bit. Anyway, I hope you enjoy the chapter! :)

Your throat hurt. Bad. Worse than it ever had before, you were pretty sure. Except for maybe that time you had strep and were out of school for a week.

That had been pretty bad, too.

The tears had finally stopped coming, but you knew it wouldn't be long before they were back again. Thankfully none of your family was home, so you could cry as loud as you needed to without anyone asking what was wrong. You preferred it that way, at least for now.

It was hard to believe that he was actually leaving.

Not wanting to sit with your thoughts any longer, you headed downstairs to get yourself something to drink. There was some juice in the kitchen leftover from when Carter had decided to surprise you with breakfast the other morning, so you poured out a cup and took a seat at the dining room table. It hurt a little to swallow, but it still tasted good.

You heard Carter before you saw him. He was whistling as he shut the front door behind him and kicked his shoes off next to the door. For a moment you thought he might not have seen you sitting at the kitchen table, but his eyes met yours when he was about halfway up the stairs.

“Didn’t expect you to be down here,” he said as he backtracked and joined you in the kitchen. “Is Tyler still here?”

“No. He decided to leave early.”

Your voice didn’t sound right, so you took a long sip of your juice. Maybe Carter would think it was because of that. Somehow.

“That’s a first,” he smiled as he sat down. “Wait - have you been crying?”

“No,” you lied, but his simple question caused you to break down again. You buried your face in your hands and tried to hold back the sobs.

“Woah, hey, Y/N,” Carter said.

His chair scraped against the wood floors as he stood up again. He was at your side in seconds, lightly rubbing your back.

“Let’s go upstairs.”

You nodded and let Carter guide you up the stairs towards his room. He helped you get comfortable and wrapped you up in blankets. It was silly, but he used to do it when you were kids and your parents weren’t home to properly comfort you. Something about the childish gesture always made you feel a little better, even now. Once you were settled in, Carter sat down in his desk chair.

“What’s going on?” he asked.

“It’s Tyler,” you muttered. “He’s leaving.”

“Leaving? What do you mean?”

“His label is having him tour. He’s leaving next week and won’t be back for three months. I don’t know what I’m going to do without him, Car.”

A fresh wave of tears started to fall down your cheeks. Carter reached out and gently tried to brush them away with his thumb, but they were only replaced by new tears in a matter of moments.

“Alright, come here,” Carter said.

He took a seat next to you on the bed and held his arms out. You buried your face into his shoulder and held onto him tightly, no longer caring how hard you cried. Carter just rubbed a hand along your back and held you.

“It’s ok, Y/N,” he whispered.

“It’s not.”

You hated the way that your voice sounded. It didn’t even sound like it was coming from your mouth.

“He’s not going to be gone forever.”

“That’s what it feels like.”

Carter held you at arm’s length. You were too embarrassed to meet his eyes, so you stared at the belt he was wearing. It had belonged to your dad at some point. You could tell by how worn the leather was.

“Will you look at me?” You shook your head. “Please?”

You took a deep breath and tilted your head slightly so that you could look at Carter.

“What?”

“This isn’t going to be the end of the world. The relationship that you and Tyler have is special and neither one of you is going to let it end just because he’s not in Ohio for a few months. Just think, he’ll be getting back right as you get done with school for the summer.”

“I guess that isn’t too bad.”

“And you’re still going to have me, alright? Sure, I’m not Tyler, but at least you don’t have to deal with this alone.”

You nodded. Carter was making some good points.

“It just sucks, you know? To not have him here.”

“I know. Come here.”

Carter pulled you into another hug. You held onto him, just taking a moment to appreciate that he was looking out for you. It was hard to imagine where you would be without him and Tyler.

“Alright, I need to talk about something happy now,” you said, wiping away the last few remaining tears. “I want to hear all about this coffee date with Marenna.”

Carter immediately started grinning like an idiot, which was always a good sign.

“Ooh, what happened?” You poked him in the side a couple times.

“Well, we were just catching up,” he explained. “She was talking about grad school and I told her about working and stuff.”

“Did you pay for her coffee?”

“I did.”

“Was it a caramel latte with half the normal amount of espresso?”

Carter’s eyebrows furrowed, “Yes. How did you know?”

“She used to take me out to coffee before school when I was a sophomore! I remember her always ordering the exact same thing, but I tried it once and it was disgusting.”

“Oh yeah,” he smiled. “I remember that now.”

“Ok, sorry for the interruption! What happened next?”

“I decided to be bold and ask her if she was seeing anyone…”

“Carter!” you gasped. “You decided to be bold?”

“Yes, now shut up and let me finish.”

“Sorry!”

“She said no, she isn’t,” Carter paused. “And that slowly led into a conversation about where we left off. I told her that I missed her and she said that she missed me too.”

“Carter!” You got so excited that you reached out and smacked his arm, although it was a bit harder than you had intended it to be. “Oh, sorry.”

“Ouch, Y/N,” he laughed, rubbing at his arm. “Anyway, we just talked some more and then I walked her out to the car and…”

“And?” you said, hardly able to contain your excitement.

“I kissed her.”

“Carter!” you stood up on his bed and began to dance around. “Carter! Carter! Carter!”

“Y/N! Stop, you’re going to mess up my bed!”

“Sorry,” you fell back onto his bed, “This is just so exciting!”

“I know,” he grinned. “I’m really happy.”

“So are you two together now?”

“Not officially, but I’m taking her out on a proper date later this week. You know, just to test the waters before we dive back in.”

You sighed, “I want to get taken on a proper date.”

“Your time will come.” Carter reached out and placed a hand on your shoulder.

You shoved it away, “Yeah, yeah. Just like my time was supposed to come in high school, too.”

He rolled his eyes at you, “I bet there’s a guy out there who’s head over heels in love with you.”

“Not likely.”

“How would you know?”

“I just know, Car.”

Besides, even if there was, he would never live up to Tyler.

*     *     *

“Fuck,” Carter muttered as he pulled burnt chicken nuggets out of the oven.

“Carter! Our nuggets!” you sighed.

“I don’t know how I managed to mess up this bad.”

“Now what are we going to have for dinner?”

“Burnt chicken nuggets,” he grinned, holding the pan up.

“No.”

He groaned and tossed the burnt nuggets into the trash can. Carter had offered to make you a nice dinner since you were still dealing with the news from Tyler, but his subpar cooking skills were putting a bit of a damper on things.

“Are you sure you don’t want any help?” you asked. “I could make us some noodles real quick.”

“No, I’ve got this. I’m capable of making dinner for my little sister.”

“You have yet to prove that to me.”

Carter turned and shot you a look before returning to rummaging through the cupboards for a second option. With each passing minute that he was unable to make you something good for dinner, you were growing hungrier and more impatient.

“What are you working on?” Carter asked.

You looked down at the paper that was sitting in front of you. It was covered in random words and sentences.

“A list.”

“Of what?”

“Ideas.”

Carter sighed, “For?”

“Tyler and I want to make our last day together really special, so I’m trying to come up with ideas for stuff we can do to make it as much like a movie as possible.”

“What do you have so far?”

“Just random stuff: eating an entire gallon of ice cream, going on a picnic, playing Mario Kart. Just like our regular days together, really.”

“Then how do you plan to make it like a movie?”

“Um, well, I hadn’t really gotten that far.”

That made Carter laugh, “Glad to see it’s going well, then.”

“That’s why I’m brainstorming ideas!”

You sighed and tapped your pencil against the counter. On the other side of the kitchen, Carter was cutting up some fruit for you. He had decided to make them into funny shapes, just to help you cheer up a little more.

“Hey, Car?” you asked.

“What?”

“What did you and Marenna do on your first date?”

He looked up at you with a raised eyebrow, “Are you actually brainstorming date ideas and using it being your last day together as a coverup?”

“I wish.”

“Then why are you asking what we did on our first date?”

“Because you’re good at coming up with ideas.”

Carter smiled, “I try. And, um, let me think.”

You doodled flowers around the edge of your paper while you waited for Carter to think of his answer. His first date with Marenna had been close to six years ago, but you still remembered how excited he was as he got ready. You, being the curious fourteen year old you were at the time, had been asking him rapidfire questions while he tied his shoes. He had been nice enough to answer all of them for you.

“I remember!��� he said as he slid your plate of fruit over to you. Most of it was flower-shaped, although he had managed to make a few attempts at dinosaurs. It made you giggle. “Ready to hear it?”

“Yes,” you said as you grabbed a strawberry flower.

“So, I picked her up and took her to this food place that we both really like. It actually ended up becoming one of our favorite date spots.” He allowed himself a small smile. “And then I took her out to this overlook and we ate our food and got to know one another. I even managed to hold her hand.”

It was like Carter was sixteen again, smiling like an idiot about his first date with a girl. You were happy that they were back together again; he hadn’t been this happy since before the breakup. At least one of you got to be happy.

“Did you kiss her?”

“Maybe,” Carter answered, drawing out the end.

“Aw, Carter had his first kiss” you teased.

“And definitely not my last.”

“Too far!” you squealed.

You munched on a piece of banana while you wrote down a few more ideas. Tyler had managed to set aside an entire half of a day to spend with you amidst all his last-minute tour preparations. The thought of a “last day together” before he left for so long still made you sad, but you were determined to make the most of what you had.

After all, maybe some time away from Tyler wouldn’t be such a bad thing.

*     *     *     *     *

Taglist

@faceofcontvsions @ohprettyweeper @spookyjiimfanfiction @addictoftwentyone @svintsandghosts @gaiatheroyalrabbit @iamnotawasteofspace @patdsinner33 @merandlune @addictwithaheavydirtycheetah @schrodingersjustine @ccfffee @frappeitea @gayy-pilotss @coolcxt @donttellaweirdweakling @a-stumpsexuals-world @5secondsofmoxley @breadbinishigh @summer-wasteland @topownsmyheart @wearebxnditos @littlerachelbee

[curiosity-killed]

a hard night

@synergetic-prose​ ahhh okay i LOVE this prompt and also am sorry that this got....somewhat sidetracked and only sort of followed said prompt orz

Pairing: Shiro/Allura/Ulaz Word count: 2045 Warnings: Major character death (fake), PTSD, nightmares

They all have their own ways of handling their scars. In the middle of the night, Shiro will slip out on silent feet to train against the gladiator until his legs quiver from exhaustion and his arms can no longer lift his bayard. Allura will hole up in the command center, monitoring the surveillance both within and without of Atlas — making sure no one attacks and no one disappears. There are nights where Shiro can’t stand the softness, the openness, of a bed and tucks himself into a corner of the room where he can keep an eye on both them and the door. A chair is his only concession to comfort those nights. Nightmares wake them all. But tonight — tonight is a good night. It’s been a long day, filled from the first moment to the last. Ulaz’s shoulders ache with the strain of having been well-used, and the soft pads of his fingertips sport the tender rawness that comes before callouses have had a chance to form. The bricks they used and the tall beams were still rough, and he probably should have worn gloves. Still, it’s his favorite kind of fatigue: one born of rebuilding instead of fighting, hope instead of fear. The industrial showers of Atlas had washed away the dirt and dust of reconstructing from his fur, and Allura had insisted on braiding back his crest till only the very tip was loose to tickle the back of his neck.

Now, curled around Shiro with his ankles tangled in Allura’s, Ulaz has only enough energy to seep into the honey-warm contentment that has settled deep in his chest. Already, Allura’s chest rises and falls with easy long breaths, and Shiro gives him a sleepy smile from where his face is smushed into the pillow, half-hidden. Lifting a hand, Ulaz combs gently through his bangs, brushing them sideways out of Shiro’s eyes. His smile broadens and he closes his eyes, nestling deeper into the mattress and pillow. Taking a deep breath and letting it out easy, Ulaz does likewise and lets sleep slip blanket-like over him. The grass is soft, flattening beneath his boots rather than crunching and breaking off. The fire hasn’t reached here — yet. Already the air has turned thick and grey, smoke a living thing that coils against his suit, forms feeble hands around his neck. If he peers hard enough, he can make out the shapes of the buildings, half-ruined, crumbling in silhouette through the smog. He can’t be that far away. He has to make it. Urging his limbs to move faster, he finds them heavy, sluggish. Silence rings in his ears, the echoes of an explosion he wasn’t there to witness. There’s a kind of pressure deep in his skull that buzzes in the curves of his inner ears, and the edges of his vision are blurry, smudged like fingerprints on a visor. He trips on the long arms of the smoke still rising from the ashes of these strangers’ homes. Kolivan is first. His eyes are still open, dulled and paled against the stark scarlet dried over his throat and jaw. White bone gleams through the ruin of his cheek. Ulaz’s stomach lurches but he stumbles on. There’s no saving his leader, but the cause has always been greater than one soldier, greater than any of them put together. It must go on. He must go on. More bodies follow soon after, some he knows, some he only saw in passing. Some wear masks but others are bared and their faces look so young, too young, barely older than kits. He cannot stop to grieve for them. The time for helping the dead is long past. All he can do now is search for the living. He doesn’t find them. One by one, the broken bodies of the paladins appear through the rubble. Garish red streaks across the white of their armor. Hand prints pattern Hunk’s cuirass and finish at his cheek, too small to belong to his own hand. Beside him, Pidge is crumpled with her face hidden in the rocks. Lance is a little further off, facing away. Ulaz can’t bring himself to walk to the other side, to see the aftermath of the helmet fractured and dripping red just beside the paladin’s lean body. He doesn’t find Keith at all, only the red bayard and the shards of a luxite blade. His hand flexes, curls tight on empty air instead of his own saber’s handle. Rare and terrible is the force that can shatter a Blade. Swallowing, he forces himself to go on. The urgency of before has drained away, replaced with a heavy despair. Desperation is the only thing that keeps his steps from halting completely. He hasn’t seen Shiro or Allura yet. They could still — they might not be — he could — He finds them together — and alive. Shiro’s grey eyes burn violet, quintessence a toxic blood crackling through him with the acrid taste of Haggar’s touch. His left hand wraps around the black bayard’s handle, curled over Allura’s fist. The tip of the blade juts scarlet and wrong from his back, a perfect line to Allura’s arm. His right hand is pressed to her belly, knuckles kissing her skin where the blade of his prosthesis has burnt through armor and undersuit. The scent of burning flesh clogs the air, chokes Ulaz where the smoke hadn’t succeeded. Rigor alone seems to hold them in place, bodies using the last of their fight to make sure that this gruesome sacrifice is complete. When Allura turns to him, it is with jerky motions, mechanical. Her blue eyes burn. “You,” she hisses. Blood trickles dark down her lip, sluggish. “You were supposed to stop this. This is your fault.” He knows enough about Altean anatomy now to know where her injuries must fall, know the source of the thick black-burgundy blood staining her teeth. His mind, inconsiderate beast, turns to that with a kind of detachment, cataloguing the damage done to her as if he were still performing research in Haggar’s torture chambers. A punctured lung, internal bleeding, potential rupture of digestive organs — by rote, it notes them down as if in black-and-white text on a report. “Why didn’t you do anything,” Allura snarls, voice rising in a hoarse call. “Why didn’t you save us?” His feet are planted to the spot, staked into the grass as if they’ve grown roots. Even if he could move, he doesn’t know what he’d do. To touch her would be an insult, a disgrace. She’s right. Her words deserve more than his faltering comfort, his insufficient justification. He should have fought harder, should’ve done more, sacrificed himself before accepting the death of a thousand others. “You failed us,” Allura cries. Beneath his feet, the planet shudders and groans, giving way at last. When he falls among the rubble, the darkness is almost a relief from the hatred in Allura’s eyes. He wakes to the soft hush of Atlas’ air cycle kicking on. Their room smells of soft things, clean fabric, a hint of juniberries, but the smell of death clings to his fur and mind. Swallowing, he unfolds his fists to lay flat over his belly and forces himself to breathe. Long, slow inhales and matching exhales expand his chest, press the warm fur up against his palms. His heart beats a frenetic rhythm in his neck, ragged with remembered fear and adrenaline. He remembers that planet, that mission, that failure. He’d been so much younger then — in heart more than years — and still heady with the arrogance of the newly initiated. Back then, he’d still believed that their sacrifices meant that no one else had to sacrifice, that their deaths meant that no others had to die. And then Kijala Four had happened. His fingers tighten, claws scraping through his fur, and he forces them to relax once more. He taught himself this practice back when he was working under Haggar. Any discrepancies, any odd behaviors, would jeopardize the mission, and so he could not afford to get up and walk the ship’s cold corridors or commandeer a training room until his body was too exhausted for dreams. Any comfort he sought, he found alone and in stillness. The witch’s eyes were ever-present and rarely inhibited by wall or closed door. Like a small creature, he holed up in the darkness and stilled his trembling limbs to keep away from the hunter’s gaze. The mattress dips and there’s a rustle to his left. “‘Laz?” Allura mumbles, his name a mush of sound. “Apologies,” he murmurs, “I did not mean to wake you.” “Didn’t,” Allura says before a yawn splits her words, squeaking on the end. She lifts a hand to sweep back the great tide of white hair tumbling over her forehead. “Atlas thought you were in distress.” Despite himself, Ulaz’s lips twist in displeasure. He should be used to it by now: Allura and Atlas are nearly a single whole, divisible only with effort and never completely, and though Shiro’s connection to Atlas is dwarfed next to his with the Black Lion, his time nestled in Allura’s soul left them bound. By extension, occasionally, Ulaz benefits from a strange sort of benevolence from the ship that offers him rooms at a preferred temperature or pathways opening up to speed his trips around the many levels. Still, he cannot quite accustom himself to the invasiveness of the ship’s sentience and omniscience. “It is nothing,” Ulaz says, stiff. Propping her cheek up on one fist, Allura eyes him in silence for a moment. There’s a keenness, a knowing, to her gaze that tiredness doesn’t abate. “Was it a nightmare?” she asks. He hums, reluctant to give much answer. It was a nightmare in the most basic sense, a terrible dream wrought of his own fears — but it was not only fantasy, was grounded in true failings, in sense memories that linger in his hands and ribcage. He doesn’t want to burden her with the phantasms his mind concocts or the terrible truths from which they’re born. “Would touch make it worse?” Allura asks. That gives him pause, and he hitches up his shoulders in an uncertain shrug. “Not worse,” he offers. It’s enough for Allura to give a firm nod and turn around to swing her legs off the edge of the bed. The motion seems to rouse Shiro, who lifts his head to squint blearily first at her and then at Ulaz. “What’s wrong?” he asks, voice thick with sleep. “Nothing,” Ulaz answers. “Just a bad dream.” Shiro’s forehead scrunches up in a frown. It doesn’t ease as Allura steps around the foot of the bed to clamber up on the other side. Ulaz has to shift inwards to make room, and in doing so, realizes that something’s changed about their relative proportions. He twists around to look at Allura and finds her his same height, tall enough to curve around him from back to toes and reach over him to Shiro. “How is that?” Allura asks. Her voice comes out in a warm breath against his shoulder, and he can feel the steady thump of her heart against his back. Swallowing, he gives a little nod. “Good,” he says. She hums and nestles a little closer, tucking her feet between his ankles and her face into the curve of his neck. On his other side, Shiro watches the proceedings with a solemn, confused frown before it eases into a gentle smile. Smallest of their trio, he folds himself into Ulaz’s chest so that his head fits under his chin and his left arm curls around his side. If they stay like this, that arm’s bound to go numb, but Shiro shows no sign of discomfort, and Ulaz makes no move to dissuade him. The weight of their bodies on either side seems to form a kind of gravity, a grounding force that tethers him here and now. He sinks into it, lets his lungs follow the steady rise and fall of their chests, lets his heart settle into a matching rhythm. The nightmares will return someday, will crawl back on broken, bloodied feet. For now, though, his princess and paladin will keep him safe.

[haikyu-boys-am-i-right]

How the guys help yn while she is on her period

Characters: Oikawa, Bokuto, hinata, atsumu, kenma, nishinoya -aged up haikyu

Warnings: TW periods, symptoms of periods, mild swearing

Requested: no

Summary: drabbles of the guys helping yn on her period.

Word count: 2288

Reblogs, likes, and comments are appreciated but please don’t repost my works.

Disclaimer: I do not own haikyuu or any of the characters.

———————————————————————

Oikawa

“Yn chan good morning”, Oikawa says as he opens the door and he comes into the bedroom with a wide smile on his face. “How are you feeling this morning”, he asks as brings a tray of breakfast food over to the bed. Yn sniffles as she sits up and Oikawa freezes as he tears dripping down her cheeks. “Yn what’s wrong”, he asks worriedly as he places the food on the bedside table and he goes to cup her cheeks and he kisses her forehead. “Tooru puppies in shelters must be so lonely”, she says as she sniffles. “What was that”, he whispers, confused at her response. “Puppies and kittens in animal shelters don't have homes”, she says as she cries harder.

“Hey it’s okay”, Oikawa says as he goes to hug her. “What are you crying about puppies and kittens in shelters anyway”, he asks as he kisses her forehead. “I don’t know the idea just made me sad I really don’t know why I’m crying tooru”, she sobs.

Suddenly something dawns on him. “Yn-chan” he asks as he brushes her hair out of her eyes. “Yes tooru” she asks as she looks up at him. Tooru’s cheeks heat up in embarrassment because he knows if he is wrong then he will have an even more upset yn on his hands. “Um I don’t mean to be rude my darling but when is your um next um time of the month”? Yn blushes and her eyes widen as the realization dawns on her. “Oh yeah” she mutters. “I’m sorry that I am such a pain during this time” says snuggling into his side. “No you’re not a pain to me at all my dear”, Oikawa says as he goes to get the breakfast he made and he sits down beside her in bed. “How about we just stay in today and watch your favorite movies, Does that sound good yn-chan” he asks. Yn sniffles as she nods and leans over to kiss his cheek. “Yeah that sounds amazing tooru”, she says. “Good” he says with a grin. “But we aren’t watching titanic” he says. Yn’s face falls. “But tooru you know that’s my favorite movie”, she says. Oikawa sighs and shakes his head as he is firm in his request. “I know that it’s your favorite movie, but you’ll only cry harder if you watch it and you know that I just don’t want you to be sad”. “Fine”, yn says with a sigh. Then she smiles again. “So are we going to watch some Disney movies then” she asks. Oikawa grins. “You read my mind”.

Bokuto

Yn groaned as she got out of bed. “Hey, hey, hey yn good morning” Bokuto says cheerfully from where he is sitting on the couch playing video games. “Morning kou” she mumbles slowly as she sits beside him quietly and she lays her head on his shoulder. Bokuto frowns as he pauses his game and he places a hand on yn’s forehead. She sighs relaxing at the warmth of his hand but she is confused as to why he is doing this. “Why are you putting your hand on my forehead kou”?, she asks sleepily. Bokuto sighs. “I’m checking to see if you have a fever as you don’t seem to be feeling well babe” he says his voice laced with worry. “I’m on my period that’s all and I just want to cuddle with you”, she says as snuggles into his side. “Oh” he says quietly.

Suddenly yn’s eyes snap open as she feels herself being lifted up into the air. “Koutarou what are you doing put me down” she says. “Well first of all I’m not putting you down because I want to help to make you feel more comfortable” he says sitting back down on the couch with yn in his lap. “And second of all I want to cuddle with you too”.

His arms wrap around her pulling her close to him and he kisses the back of her head. “You feeling better now” he asks, nuzzling her neck. “yeah I am”, yn says happily as she closes her eyes while Bokuto continues to play with her hair. “Get some rest and I’ll be here when you wake up”, Bokuto whispers. “I love you kou” she mumbles almost asleep as she hugs him in her sleep. Bokuto chuckles and grins as he kisses the top of her head once more. “Yeah I love you too yn”.

Hinata

“Yn are you okay I heard you groaning is something wrong” Hinata asks sounding panicked as he runs into the living room to find yn lying on the couch holding her stomach. “No I’m not really feeling well shoyo”, she says as she sits back up still holding her stomach. “I’m on my time of the month”, she says. “Oh” Hinata says as his cheeks heat up in embarrassment and he stands there staring at her awkwardly.

“Is there anything I could do to help you feel better”? He asks nervously. “Can we order a pizza and cuddle, that would be nice”, she says. Hinata grins and nods enthusiastically. “Of course we can so tell me what toppings you want on the pizza and I’ll order it right away”! Yn smiles. “You’re the best boyfriend shoyo”. Hinata is grinning so widely now that he is beaming after that compliment. “Well you better get ready for lots of cuddles and movies because I’m not leaving your side till you are okay”, Hinata says as he kisses her cheek. Yn hugs Hinata before he goes to the order the pizza and all she can think of was how is she so lucky to get such a caring boyfriend.

Atsumu

Yn felt like she was on the verge of tears and she felt like she could cry at any given moment. She always hated this time of the month because it always made her so much more emotional than usual. “Stupid period”, she grumbled as she heads to the kitchen to find something to eat for breakfast.

“Good morning” Atsumu says from where he is making packages on the griddle. “How is my princess this morning”? Yn grumbles as she sits down at the table, lays her head on her arms, and she groans exasperated. Atsumu frowns as he looks back at her. “Geez what has gotten you all grumpy this morning, I mean did you wake up on the wrong side of the bed or something”? Yn shrugs and groans again as sharp cramps race through her stomach. Atsumu sighs a d shakes his head. “Whatever, don’t tell me if you don’t want to geez it’s like you don’t love me anymore or something”, Atsumu says and it’s clear to him that he is joking but he freezes when he hears a quiet sob from behind him.

Atsumu whips around so fast that the pancake he was trying to flip falls into the floor. “Yn” he asks softly. Is that how you feel she sobs. “Did I do something to make you feel like I don’t love you anymore, Tsumu I’m sorry that I don’t feel good, I’m on my period I'm sorry for being a bad wife at the moment”.

Atsumu’s eyes widen as he finally realizes exactly why Yn has been so moody lately and now he feels like he is the worst husband in the world. “Shit”, he mutters, sounding panicked as he runs over to her side forgetting about the pancakes which are probably burned at this point. He runs over to yn and he cups her cheek and it breaks his heart to see her cry. “Hey no princess”, he says softly as he kisses her forehead. “I didn’t mean that at all, I promise I was only kidding of course I know that you love me”. “Do you still live me Tsumu she whispers, looking up at him and sniffling as she tries to dry her eyes.

Atsumu’s eyes soften. “Of course I love you and I always will princess”, Atsumu says as he leans down to kiss her. He walks over to turn off the stove leaving the burnt pancakes where they are. He walks back over to her and she squeaks as he sweeps her up into his arms. “Let’s go back to bed and cuddle okay”, he says softly. “My princess needs her rest and how about I order us a pizza and we can watch a movie, I know how much you love junk food during this time of the month” he says winking down at her. “What about the pancakes”, yn asks. “Well” Atsumu says and winks at her once more. “I think they can wait to be cleaned up, my princess needs my attention right now after all”.

Kenma

Yn walks into her and Kenma’s bedroom with a blanket wrapped tightly around her to find that Kenma is playing some multiplayer games online with Kuroo and Bokuto. “Kenma” yn whispers as she walks over to him and gently shakes his his shoulder. “Hmmm what is it peach”, he asks (his nickname for her because of the princess in Mario) “I don’t feel good” she whispers biting her lip as a wave of cramps hits her stomach. Kenma frowns as he tries to look at her and then back at the screen. “What’s wrong you can talk to me ya know” he says trying to play his video game and talk to her at the same time. Yn blushes. “That’s just it I can’t really say with others on the call”. Kenma sighs and presses a few buttons. “My Mic is on mute and my camera is turned off now, tell me what’s wrong so I can help”. “I’m on my period and I just feel like cuddling with you”, yn whispers blushing bright red.

Kenma nods and opens his arms so that she can sit in his lap backwards so her legs are dangling off the back of the chair. Yn sighs as she nuzzles close to Kenma as she rests her head in the crook of his neck. “I'm not too heavy on your lap am I ken”, yn asks. She feels Kenma shake his head and his hair tickles her face. “Not at all and hopefully me talking to the others won’t stop you from resting”. “I’ll be fine, I just wanted to cuddle,'' she says. “Okay I’m turning my mic back on but I won’t turn the camera on okay” Kenma says. “Okay” she mumbles sleepily. “Hey Kenma where did you go”, Kuroo asks over the headset. “Yeah you weren’t responding so we thought you died or something” Bokuto says. “Yn isn’t feeling well so she’s cuddled up to me in my lap got a problem with that”?, Kenma asks. “No not at all” Kuroo says as she chuckles. “So what’s wrong with her anyway”, Bokuto asks. “It’s none of your business but don’t talk too loud and wake her up or I won’t team up with either of you anymore on these missions” Kenma says. “It’s a deal” Kuroo says. “Yeah we need you on our team don’t abandon us” Bokuto wails. Kenma smiles and kisses her forehead as yn snores softly in her sleep and he is careful not to jostle her and wake her up from her peaceful sleep.

Nishinoya

Yn groans as she looks all throughout the bathroom cabinets to find that she has run out of pads just as she started her time of the month. “What do I do” she mutters. Suddenly she thinks of her boyfriend Nishinoya who is currently at the grocery store. “Maybe he can get me some while he’s out” she whispers as she pulls her phone out of her pocket.

Yn calls him on his cellphone and he answers almost immediately. “Hey babe what’s up did you forget to add something to the shopping list before I left the house”, he asks. “Hey Yu can you pick me up some more pads while you’re at the store”? Silence follows her question. “Yu are you still there”, she asks. “Yeah I am here” nishinoya says, finally answering her. “sure of course I can um pick you up that stuff I guess so what kind do you need”? “Okay so I need the kind with wings” she says. “Uh okay whatever wings are,'' he mutters. “I’ll be back home soon” he says. “Thank you so much I love you”, she says. “Love you too babe”, nishinoya says as they hang up.

About an hour later yn is starting to wonder where nishinoya is seeing as their house isn’t too far from the store. “He should have been back by now”, she mutters. Suddenly she hears a knock on the front door. “I'm coming” she says heading to the front door. She opens the door and her eyes widen as she finds Nishinoya standing there on the porch with multiple bags of many different brands of pads. “Yu what’s all this”, yn asks softly pointing to the bags. Nishinoya looks like he could cry. “I didn’t know what kind you wanted babe”, he says looking panicked. “There were ones with wings but there were also thin and thick brands, some were scented and there were some unscented ones too and I since I didn’t know what kind you like I panicked and bought them all I’m sorry” he says as he blushes bright red. “Aww yu”, yn says as she hugs him. “It’s okay, You’re more thoughtful than other guys you know” she says. “I am”, he asks, perking up a bit. “Yes you are”, she says as she kisses his cheek.

[queeradora]

Untitled - Parts 1-5/11

It was dark outside and Alphonse felt tired. He actually felt tired. It was all so new to him, hunger, pain, warmth, cold, pins and needles. He loved every bit of it. He curled into bed under the soft warm blankets and lay there stroking the fabric of the blanket, the sheet, and the bed frame. Letting his fingers feel every nuance to the materials.

He heard the door open and looked towards the source of the noise. Ed stood in the doorway and slowly walked in before curling under the blankets next to Al. Ed squeezed his brother's hands and Al squeezed back.

Alphonse felt something wet on his shirt and noticed that his brother was silently crying. Ed adjusted his head onto Al's chest and with the hand that wasn't squeezing his brother's hand he tapped the rhythm of Al's heart onto the bed. Al started to cry with him.

Al eventually dosed off, feeling happy, warm, and safe in Ed's arms. But Ed stayed up for hours. Tapping away, and letting his mind wander. It never strayed far from how happy he was that Al got his body back though. He smiled and fell asleep to his new favorite sound.

--------

Al ate and ate and ate until he could no longer eat any more. Everything tasted so good to him. He wanted more. He wanted to feel it on his tongue and taste the flavor, he wanted it to settle in his stomach and make him full. But soon, he realized that with too much eating came throwing it all back up. He leaned over the toilet, tears streaming down his face as everything that he quickly devoured left him. Ed was rubbing his back and comforting him.

He soon after stopped and when he did he brushed his teeth and rinsed his mouth out. Ed hugged him tight and Al hugged tighter. Neither letting go until Winry knocked on the door asking if they were ok.

"We will be"

The next time Al ate until he couldn't fit anymore he managed to not throw it up but he felt extremely sick. He new that he couldn't keep doing this and resolved to try harder, no matter how much he wanted the next bite.

It took him a long time but eventually Alphonse found the limits of his own body. He slowly tried all the food that he had so desperately wanted and learns to eat just enough to be pleasantly full. He loves eating, he especially loves Gracia's cooking and she's more than happy to make him whatever he wishes for.

--------

Al sat outside letting the cold seep into his bones. Feeling each drop on his skin. Noticing the feel of the wet clothing he wears. Letting the wind stab him and relishing in it.

"Al! Alphonse!" A voice yells.

Alphonse doesn't reply.

"Brother!" Footsteps get louder with the accompanying call. A hand falls on his shoulder and he looks up.

"Al, you're going to catch a cold."

"I don't mind, brother. It feels so nice out here." Al replies.

Ed sighed and extended his hand, Al reluctantly taking it. The two walked back indoors where Winry quickly gasps and rushes to grab towels.

After the two dry him off, Al sneezes. Ed immediately starts fretting asking if he's ok. Al brushes him off with a smile and they all pile on the couch and fall asleep.

The next morning, Al awakes with a groan. His head hurts and his throat felt raw. His nose was stuffy and he couldn't breathe out of one nostril. Ed awoke soon after and greeted Al.

Al sniffled and Ed immediately put his hand out to check his brother's temperature.

"Al, you're burning up. You caught a cold."

Ed spends the next week making chicken soup and micromanaging every detail of Al's surroundings. It's slightly annoying. But Al knows it's cause Ed cares.

--------

Al gets strange looks as he enters the shop. He's curious as to why, but continues to browse through things. When he returns home his brother greets him, but gets a sad look as he walks through the door.

"Are you ok, Ed?" He asked.

"Yeah, it's just that... you ducked."

Al quickly pulled his brother into a hug.

--------

No, no, no, no! Al started freaking out. He couldn't feel his body. He quickly turned and reached for the closest object. It was a vase. He broke off a shard and rolled up his sleeve, quickly slashing next to fading marks. Tears started to fall. He could feel the pain. This was his Human body. He sniffled before slashing again. A tear fell into the cut mark and he gasped. Al relished in the pain this brought. It made him feel alive.

The next day Al wore a long shirt. Winry was in the kitchen scrambling an egg. He offered to take over and Winry gladly obliged and went to the garage, telling Al to let her know when breakfast was ready. . He "accidentally" set the palm of his hand on the hot metal while cooking, burning the skin. He cried out in pain and Ed rushed in.

"Al, are you ok?" He asked.

"I just accidentally burnt myself, nothing to worry about." He replied.

"Let me help." Ed reached out for Al's arm to guide it to the sink but Al flinched back.

"Al?"

"I got it brother don't worry." Al smiled, trying to will his brother's upset face away.

Ed looked into his eyes, confusion and determination melting in the iris. He quickly reached out and grabbed his brother's arm Al crying out in pain and surprise.

He looked away in shame and Ed quickly pushed his sleeve up.

"Al? What the hell is this?!"

Al could hear the pain and anger in his brother's voice.

"Why couldn't you just come to me?! Why would you do this?!" His voice rang out loud. "Look at me! Please... look at me."

Al hesitantly met his brother's eyes.

"Why?"

Al gulped and then said, "Pain makes me feel the most real."

Ed broke down and pulled his brother close. Hugging him as tight as he could letting Alphonse cry into his chest. They stood like that for a long time.

--------

Ahhhh sorry that this is so long. Anyways these were based of off @wendyhamlet 's ideas. A lot of writing this came from personal experience (especially the first and last ones. I have a stomach issue in which I can't eat a lot so I know throwing up quiet well.) anyways, I hope that these aren't too bad ahhhh

[podcastmecaptain]

the stim bin

part of advanced PLACEMENT: an ars PARADOXICA high school au about a gang of queer teen nerds, by @estherroberts​ , @podcastmecaptain , and @lizzieraindrops

all three of the aformentioned dorks are equally responsible for the hijinks found in this post. today as well all three aforementioned dorks are neurodivergent folks writing about neurodivergent folks.

click here for the au masterpost | track #ars placement for updates!

ALSO: things aren’t always showing up in the tags, so your most reliable bet is the aforementioned masterpost.

attention: all contents incredibly neurodivergent

everyone shares those fidget cubes

collectively they have like five

in so many colors

esther also designs a giant version that’s like. the size of a KEYBOARD and with lots more options and Bigger

jack builds it

they call it the stimboard deluxe

anthony has nintendo

sally brings him all her childhood games and watches him hyperfocus

sally and anthony were the first autistic friend each other had and they love sharing weird stuff from their childhoods that nobody else liked

they have a lot of overlap of interests and they spent so long without anyone like them who really got them

and they both feel so safe and loved not only with each other but with the whole gang because everyone’s neurodiv af even if they’re not sure in exactly what way

anthony brings notes everywhere

scribble scribble

Doing The Right Thing, Doing Science For Good is sort of his ruling philosophy

a lot of times it’s really easy to lead him down the wrong path if he thinks it’s Science For Good

he has some problems with gullibility

the pressure stimming is too real

PRESSURE! STIM! HUGS!

Big Coats or Lab Coats

fiddling with his glasses

he’s bad at artistic/creative things and just doesn’t get it. he can follow a pattern tho,

polish patterns work for him, especially with tape. he likes taking care of his nails because he’s v tactile, he likes the smooth feeling of the polish and likes tapping his nails

he either gets really anxious or angry about Bad things

breakdowns, breaking things, and weirdly quick recoveries

he could hug people for hours

he usually does if he’s had a panic attack, but other than that acts like he’s fine

canon says sally eats weird and has a disturbing appetite so like,

sally separating EVERY SINGLE FOOD by group and flavor and texture and then like putting one piece of one in her mouth at a time and keeps TALKING CAUSE SHE’S A DORK

other options:

SHREDS EVERYTHING AND EATS IT WITH A STRAW

eats only EXACTLY one quarter of anything at a time and forgets the rest

uses her hands for THINGS SHE SHOULD NOT

burnt things

she love the Cronch

puts things together that should not even touch

jack cries the day he sees her dip pickles in whipped cream and shove a fistful of blue cheese blissfully into her mouth immediately after that

sally’s special interests:

electronics, gadgets, tinkering, SCIENCE, beginning quantum physics, computers

stims by tinkering and uses voice recordings for vocal stims, plays with her hair and bites her nails, spinning, dancing, tapping tools

hands on everything

the dancing is so bad and uses her full body (it’s actually so cute)

is a bad driver bc she either hyperfocuses on the road or she starts TALKING and gets lost in anything BUT driving

sally wears her lab coat everywhere

she plays with the seams, runs the fabric between her fingers, tugs on the corners of it to create pressure on her shoulders

sometimes she spins in a circle just to let the fabric flap behind her like a cape

tags on clothing are EVIL

she takes them out with a seam ripper till there’s no traces

sallys clothes are always a little large and odd bc if they’re not comfy she Dies

no really she’ll end up in a ball somewhere crying because of sensory grossness

she has serious sensory processing issues

sometimes it’s really a Drag but she loves fiddling with things so much and it feels so good and she wouldn’t give it up for the world

she has a watch that sometimes she’ll make clicking noises along with the tick tick tick tick

lots more under the readmore!

sally is the queen of weighted blankets

she always has one readily accessible in case she needs to wrap up in it

the gang Knows this and they’re always asking her to borrow one

like one time esther texts sally like “help me im having sensory issues and i need hugs”

and sally turns up with not one but TWO heavy blankets

(she may have fallen over once or twice trying to carry both of them)

(just these two lil scurrying feet on skinny legs goin patpatpatpat supporting this huge bundle of extra-weighted bedding floating down the hall)

she wraps esther in them and then squeezes her, too

for good measure, sally gets up on her tippie toes and rests her chin on esther’s head

esther, muffled: “i am a burrito now”

sally: “a precious tiny gay burrito”

or, estherrito

bridget puts her in her phone contacts as ‘ettie burrito’

and sally in turn puts her in hers as ‘questherdilla’

also oh my god when will she Stop doing fingerguns with accompanying tongue clicks

sally talks to herself

she has a little wee tape recorder named Diane because Diane

its covered in stickers

she likes to record what she’s doing to organize herself and calm down

and she’ll replay them to process things

sometimes her friends will leave happy messages on there for her

or helen will sing her a little ditty

helen is the world’s best audio stim

her voice is just really soothing

she’ll sing absently and everyone just operates more smoothly for that minute

she likes singing for herself too

humming and tapping her instrument is a soothing habit

helen is very audio/vocal

she likes to play the same song over and over again

bridget has some issues with self image

she also has obsessive tendencies, sometimes related to organization and labeling things

but also related to literature and only being able to talk about whatever she’s into

sometimes it’s easier to quote things from her favorite books instead of replying in her own words

she doesn’t like things that are uneven or unbalanced

objects OR concepts that are unfair or unequal

(except her hair. her hair is badass and she’s okay with that kind of disunity)

esther’s adhd and her big stims are

high heel clicks on the floor when she walks

fancy & feminine clothes that make her feel secure

the ritual of putting on her makeup

pencils (tapping or twirling)

HER RINGS, she has three and she spins spins spins

she likes to rub the shaved side of bridget’s head

and run her fingers through the hair on the other side

she ALWAYS has her father’s old deck of cards with her, she’s shuffled them so many times they’re completely worn down, and no one is allowed to touch them but her

they’re very soft, she has a new pack as well for crisper sound/feeling and everyday use

sometimes she uses card games as lens to make sense of the world

she has a rough time with communication and a rough time with empathy but she’s trying to work on both of those

both come easier with people she’s close to and bridget is helping her some too

it’s easy for her to hyperfocus in class and doing homework, so it took them a while to diagnose her

out of all of them, esther is the best at reminding people to be organized and do self-care (tho she doesn’t always take care of herself)

she spends a lot of her time in her own head, she really values alone time, and she needs to recharge after she spends time around people

even people she loves

jack’s also adhd, had been diagnosed for a while and has almost all of the opposite symptoms as esther (which is another one of the reasons it took them so long to figure out esther)

jack always works better after he moves, if he runs a little or bounces a ball around or is shaking his legs, rocking on his heels

he makes lots of rolling rrr sounds and blows his lips when he’s frustrated

the pencil chewing ended in splinters and the pen chewing ended in ink all over so now he has a little necklace with a chewable shark

the sharks name is Fredrico

his binder is actually kinda helpful because it’s pressure

he screws and unscrews things a lot

actually taking apart and putting back together all machinery is a Big Thing

june is dyslexic

she has cute tinted glasses to help her with studying

sometimes helen reads stuff out loud for her, she doesn’t mind but june hates to ask

for her birthday quentin bought her a five sided highlighter to color code different things

she has some emotional processing issues

it’s easier to feel angry than anything else

& her methods of dealing with anger aren’t super healthy either

quentin is the only one who actually can manage himself

Quentin is a Hydrated Boy

(he has great skin)

quentin always comes across as super chill but that’s actually because he has hella anxiety and works really hard to manage it

penny is autistic and if june and helen are the dad and mom friends and esther is the gay cousin

then sally and anthony are the autistic aunt and uncle who adopt penny as their niece

they can spot one of their own from a mile off and just decided We Gonna Take Her Under Our Big Fluffy Damn Wings

penny is the Flappiest Autistic

big happy arm flaps, upset little hand flaps, her fast excited flaps are literally the best and most joyous thing

she’s always been kinda embarrassed and insecure about it but jack is so supportive

he’s only a moderate flapper but he often flaps with her when she does it

and he calls her his butterfly

this melts her heart and makes her feel happy and not weird and when this happens she is prone to flapping even harder

she calls him her moth

they’re precious fluttery darlings

sometimes when they both get going, sally joins in too and they all spin around the room fluttering in a big flappy tornado

it’s Good 

[pjoracle]

Burnt Popcorn

The world needs more pieces about friendships, so here’s some Reyna and Nico

Reyna wrung her clammy hands outside of Nico’s apartment in New Rome, why was she so nervous? Nico had a right to know! A right to know, Reyna thought trying to use that to steel her nerves. With a shaky breath she knocked on the door. For a moment Reyna though about turning away, about just running right then and there, her body was halfway turned away ready to bolt when the door swung open.

Nico stood there, a child of Hades, somehow radiating light. His smile could power New Rome a million times over as he beamed out at her.

“Trying to run away from movie night? Afraid I’m going to force another Italian movie on you?” He teased, stepping into the hallway. “I’m making popcorn.”

“Yeah that’s it; one more played out scene of a couple driving away on a Vespa might do me in. I just want a nice Disney movie with a badass female character that fights in a war and totally kicks every guy’s ass.” Reyna answered easily with a smile to rival his.

“You’re just talking about Mulan, the movie you know I don’t own.”

“A fact that should shame you enough to buy the DVD.” She teased as she stepped under his outreached arm, looping her own around him as they stepped inside the apartment. She looked around the cozy abode and took it all in, comfortable here as her own home. “Hey you said you were making popcorn right?”

“That would be correct…”

“Because it smells more like your burning popcorn.” Reyna answered with a nod at the kitchen, happy for a distraction from her anxiety. Nico’s head snapped back so hard Reyna was afraid he’d get whip lash.

“THE POPCORN!” Nico screamed as he ran to the kitchen, followed by a series of bangs. Reyna chuckled and made her way to the wall of movies they’ve collectively amassed over a few years of movie nights. She was skimming through the third shelf when Nico came in shame faced with a pot in his hand. “Okay, I’m not sure how it happened, but this is not the color of popcorn.”

He tilted the pot to show the completely charred remains of what should have been the popcorn. Reyna’s eyes went wide as she looked from the pot to his hair and back a few times. After a moment with Nico standing with the pot, looking like a confused child and Reyna kneeling on the floor quietly talking it all in she burst out laughing.

“How did you mess up popcorn? You just put it on the stove and wait for the pops!” Reyna cried, in sheer disbelief that the same person whoop shadow traveled across half the planet with her, a very angry satyr, and a huge statue of Athena in tow couldn’t make a pot of popcorn. “Oh my gods, were you trying to add another layer to the pot because that’s a strong burn.”

Nico started to giggle with her making Reyna only laugh harder. “I can’t even make popcorn, Italians weep worldwide at my uselessness in the kitchen.”

“Savior of the world, child of one of the Big Three and you can’t make a pot of popcorn.” She shook her head as she unwound herself from the ground and took the pot from him. Nico followed her into the kitchen as she set herself up at the sink. They were silent as Reyna let the water flow over her hands, testing the temperature, waiting for it to get hot before putting in the soap. “Let this soak for a bit, and then we’ll try and scrape off that disaster.”

“And forget all about it?” Nico asked hopefully while Reyna turned away to scrounge through his fridge.

“Not a chance, Will has to learn of your incompetence in the kitchen or else he might break up with you after you accidently set fire to your hands and burn the house down.” She snorted.

“Hey, our love is stronger than any batch of popcorn I burn.” He shot back with a short tap on the side of the pot. He looked back to Reyna at the uncharacteristic lack of any response and saw how tense she was. “Reyna, are you ok? Do you need to talk about something?”

“How do you know that you love someone?” She asked, her voice was small and tentative. Nico stared at her still turned away form as though he could see through to her face and read every emotion laid out on it.

“You just…it’s like a feeling. Not like you like someone, but that you feel safe with them.” His face scrunched up as he thought of how to put it. “It’s trusting someone entirely with yourself, even if you know you’re not ready to reveal every part of you because you know that if you put your everything into their hands they would never break it, not intentionally at least. Then when what you get them slips a bit, they get nervous holding up so much, a little too weak from holding it too long, you’re there to put your hands under theirs and lift them up. You make them stronger and in your hands is their secrets and life and it may get heavy or start to slip, but then their hands are there to hold yours up. But that’s not even really love early, not entirely. It’s trusting someone and it’s letting them support you and it’s supporting them, but it’s also knowing when to pull your hands back and letting them pull away too if they need it. Love is an ebb and flow, but it’s also solid.”

“That’s a lot of nothing.” Reyna concluded. Her voice was hollow, a bit weaker.

“I don’t think it is.” Nico said softly, gently turning Reyna to face him, not so shocked at the tears streaking down her cheeks. “What’s this about?”

He led her to the couch, holding her hand, rubbing small circles in the back of her hand.

“I just, I think I’m in love.” Reyna began. Nico gave her a small of encouragement, she took a shaky breath “it’s with a friend…a close one.”

Reyna dropped his hands and turned away, Nico’s heart stuttered with horrible thoughts. What if she likes me? I’m too gay, I’m also dating Will. Oh gods, I would never cheat also it’s Reyna. She’s like a sister to me…better. I can’t lose her.

“Well first I should probably tell you. Um.  I’m well,” Reyna stood up and passed the carpet before turning to him and practically screamed, “GOD’S DAMMIT, I’M GAY!”

Surprised at her outburst Nico sat and took it, for an agonizing second nothing happened. Reyna stood in her spot stupidly unsure of what to do until Nico leaped at her, pulling her into a tight hug.

“I’m so proud of you for telling me, you’re brave for this. I’m glad you feel comfortable enough around me and I hope this brings you some type of peace.” Nico mumbled into her hair. Reyna still stood there, but after a moment wrapped her arms around him tightly. Tears silently fell onto his faded Camp Half Blood t-shirt as this huge burden was lifted off her shoulders after pressing down for far too long. “Gods how long have you been holding it in, I’m so sorry you had to think that you were alone.”

Reyna nodded into the crook of his neck and held on tight. After a minute in their embrace, Nico pulled back with a wicked smile on his face, “what were those questions about love about then?”

“I, um, well I” Reyna pulled back and fidgeted with her hands, “like Rachel?” She met Nico’s eyes and they shined with admiration and love and something almost mischievous.

“You know, she is bi and single.” He led on, finally making progress sin his joint mission with Will, Percy, and Annabeth to get these two together. Their pre-relationship sexual tension and extreme denial of any feeling was only topped by Percy and Annabeth themselves. “Maybe you should just go for it.”

Reyna nodded, but her eyes made it clear she was still processing everything, so Nico helped in the way he knew she needed.

“Stay here.” He instructed before shadow traveling out. She tossed up her hands in exasperation, but accepted this fate and settled onto the couch. Not more than 2 minutes later he came back with a copy of Mulan 1 and 2 tucked under his arm as well as two large hot chocolates from her favorite café in one hand and a couple packs of microwave popcorn in the other.

Reyna didn’t say anything as Nico immediately got to setting up the movie, she didn’t say anything the rest of the night as they watched her favorite movies and sipped on hot chocolate. Slowly she drifted to sleep, the adrenaline from coming out fading away and she crashed hard. Nico glanced over at the end of the movie to find her asleep. He rose from his seat to drape a blanket over her curled up legs. He kneeled beside her and put his hand to her forehead and whispered to her.

“It will be hard sometimes, but most of the time the world will be more vibrant because you’re not hiding anymore. Even through all the hard times, remember that there are people who love you and will always be there to protect you. I love you, Reyna.” He kissed her forehead and came up with eyes shining. This was the relationship with Bianca he never got, but that’s ok because maybe he could still have the person who loves him like she did in Reyna.  

He rose from his spot next to her and quickly headed to his bedroom where he IM’d Percy and Annabeth, who were thankfully not in a compromising position, excitedly spilling what he learned that night. They were both relieved that Reyna told him, it was so obvious to anyone close to her that for the past few months there was something off with her. After discussing this for a bit they moved onto to planning how exactly to get Reyna and Rachel to get over themselves and see that they were head over heels for the other. All in all, it was one of the best movie nights he’s ever had.

[enlit12ww]

Archetype: The Ruler

Genre: Magic Realism

Social Issue: Personal Conflict/Alienation

I had nothing against moving to a different state, finding a new home, playing with new friends or having a new dad. No, scratch the last one. Technically, I never had a dad.

Mom said my father died months before I was born, and when I asked why she said that he got caught in a forest fire.

“It was a heated day in Arizona[1]”, my mom recalled.

Anyway, I liked Seth[2]. He was bald, and when mom and him were together they were like two peas in a pod. After marrying mom, he gave me the catalogue of our future home. He promised that he will give me the biggest room in the house and that we will have so much fun as one happy family.I remember the first time we drove northeast to Tulsa, Oklahoma[3]. It was July of 1986[4], and one of the hottest Oklahoman summers just began. The house was a massive two-storey red brick home — the kind you see in almost all American sitcoms. It had a porch, an even bigger balcony, and it was surrounded by two acres of all shades of green.

My favorite part of our new home was the tall cedar tree[5] right beside my window. It was a lovely tree. And a very tall one too! So tall that it was even taller than our home.

Every day, I would climb up the tree from my window and watch the sun set behind the burnt sienna mountains.

Dad said we would have so much fun in our new house, but just a few months after we got here, he and mom started to fight. Their fighting began when dad started going home late and now that dad lost his job, mom was even more furious.

“Just sign the papers for heaven’s sake, Lyssa![6]”, I heard dad shout one night[7].

Mom didn’t say anything, and I couldn’t believe what dad did to her. He grabbed her by the neck and started choking her. When I saw that I ran straight to my room and cried and cried and cried.

There, there, Dolores[8].

“Who said that?”

I did.

“Who did? And how do you know my name?”

Look by the window.

“I don’t see anything.”

Look harder, little one.

“The cedar tree.”

Yes, little one. You can call me Ed[9], Ed the Cedar Tree.

“You’re funny! How can you speak?”

Only in your head, little one.

“Why only me?”

Because you’re as beautiful as the flowers I bloom.

“That doesn’t make sense.”

Come here, little one. Sleep inside me. I will take care of you.

The fighting never stopped. It got worse day by day, but I learned to live with it. Dad barely went home. After work, my mom would watch Only The Brave[10] over three bottles of wine. She usually yells at the TV screaming that the film was fake, and that the only good thing about the movie was Josh Brolin topless. I couldn’t understand her, but when mom finally started giggling with her eyes closed, that’s when I place a blanket over her.

I hated the red brick house.

Dolores, open your eyes.

“WOW! It’s so beautiful!”

Now stand in the middle of the branch you are sitting on.

“Here?”Yes. Be careful, little one. Now grab a handful of berries by the twig to your right.

“Okay. What do I do?”

Stretch your arm with the berries and wait.

After a few seconds, a magnificent bird rested on the bottom of my palm and started pecking on the small berries. Its wings were a rich red color and its chest, striking red.

“It’s so pretty! Ed, what kind of bird is this?”

A red cardinal[11]. They only visit me during the summer. Magnificent, right?

Yes! Can I keep it?

No, you can’t, little one. Cardinals are very close to its family. You know, they usually travel in huge flocks, but I guess this one might have lost its way.

I suddenly heard something crash. I immediately ran towards the house and as I approached the front yard, I saw my mother lying on the gravel. Her head glistened in the middle of the pool of blood surrounding her stiff body. She had dark circles beneath her eyes. Her pupils staring straight towards the sky. I slowly walked to her trying to decipher what happened. She must have jumped off from the balcony.I went inside the house to call 911. By the telephone, I saw a stack of papers with a note that read, “Sign these or I will take her”. It looked like my dad’s handwriting.

I called 911. I told them my mom is surrounded by blood and my dad is missing. They asked where I lived. I told them I did not know exactly. They told me to describe my surroundings. I told them about the cedar tree taller than the house. They told me to wait. And so I did.

I sat right by where the blood did not touch the gravel. As I waited, I noticed my mom clutching a piece of paper.

I took the crumpled paper. It was a news article and it read:

17 June 1977

ALLEGED MAN WHO STARTED THE RADIO WILDFIRE FOUND DEAD WHILE PREGNANT WIFE RESCUED AFTER TWENTY-EIGHT HOURS

Eduardo Garcia[12], 29, was found dead after fifty firefighters and ten fire engines worked day and night to contain the Radio Wildfire in Flagstaff, Arizona. Lyssa, 26, was rescued from the fire covered with scars, bruises and burns. The pregnant woman was immediately brought to Flagstaff Medical Center, however, there are still no reports as to the child she bears.Lyssa confirmed that her husband intentionally started the fire by pouring gasoline unto her hair. She said that her husband wanted to punish her for not wanting to keep their child.

“I was never in love with him. Why would I carry a child with a man whom I was forced to marry?”

1  Arizona: Arizona is a southwestern U.S. state best known for the Grand Canyon and its devastating wildfires.

2  Seth: In Egyptian mythology, ‘Seth’ is the god of chaos, violence and disorder.

3  Tulsa, Oklahoma: Tulsa, Oklahoma is known for its abundance of red cedar trees. Also, Oklahoma has been among the top states in the US that have the highest divorce rates.

4  July of 1986: During the summer of 1986, Oklahoma experienced one of their hottest summers with the average temperature greater than or equal to 105 degrees Farenheit.

5  Cedar tree: An evergreen tree, ranging from 30 to 60 feet tall, abundant in Tulsa, Oklahoma. Also, the cedar tree is one of the top choices for home construction. In addition, the cedar tree is regarded as the tree of life. It symbolizes positive energy good health, growth and strength.

6  Lyssa: In Greek mythology, ‘Lyssa’ is the daughter of Nyx and personifies mad range and frenzy.

7  Divorce: During that time, the American government recently passed the No-Fault Divorce Law wherein the dissolution of a marriage would not require a showing of wrongdoing by either party. Thus, proving grounds for divorce such as adultery, violence or irreconcilable differences were reduced to being supplementary.

8  Dolores: In Spanish, the name ‘Dolores’ means sorrow from Maria de los Dolores or Mary of the Sorrows

9  Ed: The name ‘Eduardo’ is a Mexican counterpart of ‘Edward’ which is an Old English name meaning prosperous guardian.

10  Only The Brave: Only The Brave is a 2017 American biographical drama film dedicated to the Granite Mountain Hotshots, an elite crew of firefighters from Prescott, Arizona.

11  Red cardinal: A bird that is commonly associated with cedar trees. Red cardinals are believed to be representatives of a loved one who has passed.