#God fucking bless. Yes she trusts the doctor to get them out of there and she can't guarantee that she'll be able to bring the skeleton back

[aro-judai]

Once again I am definitely not thinking about River in Silence In The Library and how she rips out Miss Evangelista's neural relay and proceeds to pocket it while acting as if everything were completely fine and she wasn't holding back tears after watching the last remnants of this woman— towards whom she had a duty of protection or guidance at the very least— fade away. She has no use for the neural relay. That thing is completely useless, she didn't need to take it once it was disconnected, but she did.

[vikings-til-valhalla]

I'm not qualified to give spiritual advice by any means, but I do know from personal experience that none of these hardships are Odin's doing, or that of any of the gods. They are the product of a flawed world created by man. Trust in Odin. Listen to the ravens. He is working to find a solution for you, even though it may not always seem like it. One thing I've learned a lot about lately is that blessings tend to come in the disguise of curses. Don't lose faith. Continue to fight your battles and do so with honor. I think you will find that in the end, no matter how hard it is or how much pain it inflicts, you will come out on the other side stronger, wiser, and looking at a brighter future.

I hope this helps.

Hey, friend. I forget entirely what this was in regards to, but I just want to take the time and say thank you.

Sincerely.

I saw this today after 8 months apparently (I guess my ask box ate it), but I... I really needed to hear this.

I was taken off my arthritis meds because they're affecting my liver terribly, and for the brief month I was on them, I had my life back. I was LIVING! I could WALK!! It'd been 15 years since I walked. I always limped. I legit had to teach myself HOW to walk. I could write again, and do art, and so much more. And when I was taken off them I was DEVASTATED!!

It's been about 2-3 weeks, and yesterday my doctor called me and said she found an alternative that might work, and I'm going to be given it tomorrow most likely if the pharmacy fills it in time. But I'll be starting these new meds this week.

I can have a fucking life again when I genuinely thought I'd lost it.

And here I am now, seeing your message, after countless years of a long battle against my arthritis, and many MANY long, agonizing months of fighting to get meds.

I did not lose faith in Odin, or any gods. :) I've wavered, yes, I'd be lying if I said I never wavered, but I'm strong, and the gods have prepared me to fight if nothing else. So I've fought my doubt, I've remained loyal and faithful. And the gods know this, and stand with me still. I'm grateful.

So thank you, friend. :) Truly. I appreciate your words, because I really needed to hear them at a time like this. <3

May the gods be as strong with you.

[cloudy-leonhart]

AOT veterans with a Filipino S/O!!

[author note: did I write this as soon as I posted the first part?? yes. I like writing for this, it’s so fun lolol up next, Marleyan Warriors!!]

Summary: not much, just the AOT vets with their filipino S/O.

Gender Neutral Reader.

Recommended Song: Buwan - Juan Karlos.

Theme: Fluff, Modern AU.

TW: Swearing.

Characters: Hange, Levi, Miche, Erwin, Moblit, Nanaba.

Hange Zöe

Honestly they fully immersed themselves in your culture, as you know Hange LOVES learning about new things, discovering about your culture, they probably forced you to go the Philippines with them.

They started asking people for directions in english?? You had to step in translate for them, in which they responded to ask to teach them the language.

Yes they keep a small notebook of words they think are interesting. Yes even swear words are in there, not to mention they absolutely just butcher the way you say it.

One time when you both came back, Hange told Erwin that Bakla was a word for a good man, and they laughed their asses off watching Erwin tell people he was Bakla LMFAO.

They actually visited your province, they met your family and was surprised at the fact that they owned a whole farm, they tried to learn with your siblings on how to harvest rice, they nailed it btw.

they named your carabao, Sawney, and your chicken, Bean.

And respectfully so, your family started to call their animals by the name Hange gave them.

They started to cry about the fact that you guys had to go back, and like every time, your mom and dad encouraged y’all to bring filipino snacks back home, in which you did, because you knew that you’d probably miss it when you flew back home.

You guys have a tradition of going to the Philippines for your guys’ anniversary.

THEY SUPRISINGLY LISTENS TO FILIPINO MUSIC

They were the one to suggest Aegis to Levi but they prefer someone like Jireh Lim.

Favourite song is probably, Buko. They love the guitar in it.

Levi Ackerman

He first found out you were Filipino when he caught you packing a balikbayan box for your family back home, (for those who don’t know, balikbayan box is a box full of your country’s snacks to send back to the PH for your family to try.)

He had asked you what it was, and you answered that it was for your family back in the Philippines, in which he responded with helping you, and mainly scolding you about the way you packed it.

“Idiot, pack it like this, so you have more space to place stuff.”

When he first went to the Philippines, he first noticed the cleanliness of the hotels, he looked at you with a ‘is this why you’re so good at cleaning?’ look. 

God when I say your parents loved him, YOUR PARENTS ABSOLUTELY ADORED HIM. He would clean for your mom, and not only that, your mom approved of his cleaning technique, yes she told you to marry him that second.

And that you did, you had your first wedding with you family in the Philippines, and another in where you guys currently lived.

Bye, he absolutely looks AMAZING in a Barong. Your dad helped him slick his hair back.

Your mom and him, bonded of cleaning, sometimes when your mom needs help removing rust on her pans, she calls Levi.

like Hange he and you go to the Philippines for y’alls anniversary. 

Please save this man from the streets, I’m not saying it to be mean but this man almost gave his wallet to a bunch of kids who were hungry.

You gave money instead because you didn’t want your man to be broke lmfao.

He loves seeing you so happy while you’re in the Philippines, he just thinks it’s adorable when you speak your language.

Aegis listener, absolutely no discussion, mans listens to them while cleaning, he listens to “Sayang Na Sayang” religiously.

when Aegis plays in the house, you know it’s a cleaning day lmao.

Erwin Smith

Please, remember when I said Hange told him bakla was a word for a good man, yes, that’s how he found out you were Filipino, you literally was so dumbfounded, you waited for him in the living room, your friend’s laughing over the phone, man thought he did something wrong until..

“Erwin, can you tell me why you’ve been telling your friends you’re fucking gay??”

Yeah he’s got trust issues now. But he wasn’t that shocked to find out you were filipino, he just thinks it’s neat, he butchers pronouncing shit, he tries to learn filipino jokes??? It’s really bad, like you need to stop him from telling your family to save HIM from embarrassment.

He knows how to cook barbecue lmfao, he sits at your family’s barbecue spot and cooks for them, your dad appreciates the help so much lmao, also he loves drinking the gulaman whenever he’s there, your dad gives it to him for free because, he basically considers Erwin his son now. His awkward, barbecue-cooking, son.

You guys go on hiking in Mt. Butalao, yes you sneak peeks when he’s climbing because his muscles flex, and he sweats. You guys go on a double hiking date with Miche and his S/O all the time.

He was kind of fearful when you went to a province to get in touch with your grandparents, he watched you help their carabao back into their pens, he’s scared of carabaos, don’t blame him-

Surprisingly he’s as good as your dad in basketball, bye I just know the women of your community comes to watch him, he’s ripped, you’re jealous but you don’t say it lmao.

He’s got those jeep keychains lmfao, the fact that he kinda looked like a lost puppy when you’re traveling, like so many people, so little space-

please educate him, he’s confused on everything-

he probably listens to Eraserheads, Huwag Mo Nang Itanong. Yes his ultimate song. 

Miche Zacharias

probably the only veteran that knows what to do?? Beside Moblit?? He knows how to bless, he knows to call your parents nanay and tatay. He also loves going to where there’s a lot of Filipino street food because he loves the smell, he prefers the smell of bananaque over anything, hotcakes are a close second.

mf was scared when your mom suddenly said, “Oh yeah, I kept your childhood spider.”

YOU OWNED A MF SPIDER?? You were all like ‘omg i miss him’ he was a little scared bitch omg.

You had to explain that you would buy them from the local toy store and you and your friends would make them fight each other to the death.

HE THOUGHT IT WAS GONNA BE SMALL- IT’S A WHOLE MF TARANTULA BYE

you know those dyed chicks you get from winning a game, yeah, he was attached to one you guys won, but as always, they weren’t going to live long, I think he sulked for a whole 2 days. He named the chick Richard AHAHA.

ah yes, absolute unit in basketball, yes you and Erwin’s S/O would watch them play basketball together with your guys’ dads. Yes y’all gossiped about how hot they were in tagalog.

Just saying, Miche got some that night. 

He doesn’t fit in tricycles- neither does he fit in jeepneys lmfao- he kinda has to sit on the ground if you force him to fit, in which he has to awkwardly crawl to get out lmfao.

He literally looks godly while hiking, you guys don’t go to your parents’ house when you first arrive, you guys hike.

You guys go whenever y’all feel like it honestly.

“hey hey, reader, Mahal Kita.”

He listens to anything in filipino honestly, he likes chill filipino songs like Tell Me Where It Hurts by MYMP.

Moblit Berner

He’s a researcher, he makes sure he doesn’t disrespect the culture.

he knows to bless and all that jazz like Miche.

Wait but your family loved him as soon as you told them he was a doctor lmfao?? He’s in nursing.

He’s basically already apart of the family, all your little siblings call him kuya Moblit, he absolutely thinks it’s adorable.

when you guys are sending a balikbayan box, he places toys he bought for your little siblings in the box, with a note written and translated by you for them.

Moblit also knows about poverty in the Philippines, he’s apart of an organization where they give to those who can’t afford real food, even when he’s back home with you, he donates from abroad, everyone knows him as the generous kuya.

honestly I can see him as someone who’s also known by your community, people call him kuya Moblit or tito Moblit, it’s very wholesome when a kid asks him to carry them.

This man looks so nice and kind on the outside but when you guys are at your tita’s bday party and there’s a whole mf buffet, he’s a whole beast.

You know when your uncles have like, food stacked on their plate, and like a cup of buko pandan at the side?? yes, him. definitely.

He’s kinda like sasha in this au, he loves the food so much, he probably finished a filipino dish by himself (it’s the palabok)

he’s also a god at making ice candy?? like he’s so good at filling up the plastic with the liquid lmao.

you guys adopted a stray dog in the community and his name was Moblit, your family takes care of him while you guys are back home.

genuinely, it’s mostly wholesome with him, he doesn’t really do anything wrong besides butchering pronounciation.

Moblit probably watches boxing with your dad though, it’s just too accurate not to be true.

More of a movie watcher than a song listener, his favourite movie so far is Four Sisters and A Wedding.

he cries every filipino movie, them do it to you.

Seven Sundays, he cried for days straight.

Nanaba

Nanaba found a filipino flag from your collage years in a box, asked you about it, then encouraged you to visit the Philippines because she wanted to meet your family. 

Okay but your family thought she was a guy because of her hair?? 

your siblings can’t say Nanaba, so they call her Ate Nana.

She was kind of jealous of your bond with your family, she knows she shouldn’t be, but she couldn’t help it since her and her father’s relationship absolutely sucked.

And you know this, you had talked with her about it too, it was kinda like a, “are you okay?” and “it’s nothing.”

You had to drag her out to family events, eventually, she started to feel like she was apart of the family, she went swimming with the fam, did karaoke nights, she was basically in the family now.

She felt really happy that you decided to help her educate herself in your culture, and that your family openly accepted her into your family.

when you and her married, she wore a baro’t saya for the wedding reception and she looked absolutely gorgeous in them. She took your last name.

Your mom taught her to do the tinikling dance, and she mastered it easily, you of course danced with her.

she kinda had a guilty pleasure of going to McDonalds in the Philippines, SOLELY FOR THE ROOT BEER FLOAT, that stuff be bussin.

she forces you to go to McD’s whenever’s there’s a new flavour released.

Nanaba loves going on the jeepney, she likes the fact that you ring a bell when you have to get off and she does it every time you guys use a jeep for transportation.

Nanaba knows one word in filipino and that’s Mahal, she uses it so weirdly though, but she’s adorable so you let it pass.

“Reader..erm, I mahal?? you?..” 

she’s both a listener and a movie watcher, she listens to more modern filipino singers, like Patch Quiwa.

Favourite movie is when Vice Ganda’s in it, she just thinks all his movies are funny.

[puppypeter]

These are all dark fics, READ THE TAGS before reading the fics. It is your responsibility to check whether what you are about to read is something that you can stomach. While most of these fics are based around trauma, recovery etc many feature triggering scenes or flashbacks as well as darker themes. Please be safe and don’t read them if they can be triggering for you! Proceed with caution! Most of them are Hydra Trash, but still not just the ugly bits as I like there to be a plot. Hiding them below the cut:

between scylla and charybdis | 21590 words

Sam Wilson has been witness to a lot of things he wishes he could unsee. Civilian families shot dead in their cars because of miscommunications at checkpoints. Riley’s body spiralling to the ground in a smoke-plumed plummet. His own face in his bathroom mirror after waking up hung-over as hell at two in the afternoon, the day after the anniversary of Riley’s death, year after year after year.

And now, in an abandoned bunker on the outskirts of Boston, a seemingly unremarkable manila folder at the bottom of a filing cabinet.

Berceuse | 10730 words

There are strange, new things Bucky needs from Steve.

Dreamers Often Lie | 11040 words

As far as Bucky remembers, sex is something that is painful and terrifying if you wake up while it's happening. As the Asset, sleeping through sex was a rare treat. When Steve lets Bucky know he's interested in a sexual relationship, what Steve doesn't know is that they have fundamentally different ideas of what that entails.

despite the threatening sky and the shuddering earth (they remained) | 71532 words

“They really didn’t want the mask to come off.” Hill thumbed through the scans, and pulled out a film that she then handed over to Sam, face mostly expressionless but for the flat line of her pursed lips.

Sam accepted the film and held it up to the light, angling so both he and Steve could see it, squinting at the outline of the Winter Soldier’s skull, and the blips of unnatural white that showed up, God, in his brain, not to mention about half his teeth, plus the mask, with its thin protrusions—

“Those are pins,” Steve realized. He looked over at Hill. “The mask—it’s nailed to his face.”

Hill’s face was as unmoved as ever. “Like I said. They really didn’t want it coming off.”

Fire And Water For Your Love | 77084 words

When the Avengers investigate an abandoned HYDRA base on behalf of S.H.I.E.L.D., they unexpectedly encounter a dark-haired man with a torn metal arm, who leads them to an even more shocking discovery deeper inside the base. The Avengers must reconcile what they have found with the lies S.H.I.E.L.D. has been telling for decades.

Give An Inch | 5070 words

The Captain has a warm smile and clear, open eyes. The Soldier knows these are tricks. He's fallen for them before and he won't do it again.

Humans As Gods | 4818 words

"HYDRA's scientists had been delighted to find their serum-reversal procedure had worked. Their jubilation was dampened by the discovery that Steve's smaller self might no longer be Captain America-sized but was still 100% Steve Rogers, and Steve Rogers was now mad enough to spit nails. A minor oversight in the design of the containment area meant that smaller-Steve had simply wriggled out of the now ridiculously-oversized restraints like an angry ferret escaping a paper bag, and punched the nearest technician in the nuts.

Chaos ensued."

HYDRA scientists successfully de-serum Captain America, only to discover that they are utterly unprepared for Steve Rogers. Meanwhile, the Winter Soldier follows his instructions to the letter. This works out just great.

The Only One That Needs To Know | 6571 words

Bucky can't control his body. He can only control what secrets he keeps.

I Was Wearing My Blue Coat | 11503 words

Following exposure of his past as the Winter Soldier, anonymous postings of explicit video footage, 63 charges of murder and the wrath of the Internet, James Buchanan "Bucky" Barnes finally steps into the limelight and tells his story to Zenat Patel of the New York Times.

Compliance Will Be Rewarded | 4767 words

Someone told him once: "Compliance will be rewarded," and he remembers pressing his head against a man’s leg in open supplication. He remembers hands in his hair, and a gentle grip on the back of his neck. He remembers a man telling him "so good, so good for me aren't you?" And he remembers nodding his head in a desperate attempt to be exactly as good as he was supposed to be.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Bucky Barnes is physically free from Hydra, but the hold on his mind lingers still. All he wants is to go home, and he'll do anything he can to get there.

To Burn Your Kingdom Down | 12370 words

The Avengers go after a Hydra splinter cell with a nasty habit of brutalizing their prisoners. Steve has some ugly history with them, and when a rescue mission gone wrong leaves him and Sam in enemy hands, the situation gets uglier still.

Worth The Wound | 7709 words

The asset knows that maintenance is better than punishment. But with Steve, maintenance becomes more pleasant, soft and gentle and everything he could dream of. It was only natural that he decided to prolong that maintenance a little longer.

The Spaces In-Between | 6971 words | Part 1 of What We Tried So Hard To Hide Away

"Memories are like buckets of water: they weigh on the heart and the brain until the body fails. You're blessed to stay forgetful and young, Soldier."

Sometimes blessings feel like curses.

Illuminate The Scene | 7086 words | Part 2 of What We Tried So Hard To Hide Away

The doctors had wanted to keep the Soldier. Shock him and freeze him until he was fixed, or tear him to scrap if he couldn’t be repaired so that he wouldn’t be an entirely wasted investment. Steve is the only thing stopping them.

When the Soldier can't trust his own body, how can he trust anything?

All These Riots Of Broken Sound | 83790 words | Part 1 of Forever Is A Close And Honest Friend

When Steve and the team return to Avengers tower to find Bucky gone, they must venture into B.A.R.F. to figure out what triggered him to leave and hunt those who wronged him. Trapped in a simulation of Bucky's worst memories with rogue HYDRA agents waiting to strike, 100 years of secrets, lies, pain and love drive the team to their limit and push Steve towards a realisation that is a century in the making.

I Was Lost But Left A Trace | 3585 words | Part 2 of Forever Is A Close And Honest Friend

Disorientated, the Asset reached up to wipe at the moisture on its cheeks and was shocked to find it clear, instead of the crimson it has been expecting. It didn’t understand why this misidentification had caused uproarious laughter from the technicians.

“It is not blood,” the Asset told him, “but it is still a malfunction.”

This sobered the technician a little, and he nodded tightly.

“Yes. It is. But we will fix you.”

I’ll Always Be Blamed For The Sun Going Down | 9907 words | Part 3 of Forever Is A Close And Honest Friend

He knows he’s in the right place. He has heard the guys at the docks laugh and joke about the queers who come out after dark, looking to earn a little extra cash. He has seen the johns, when he’s been out late enough, skulking in the shadows like predators hunting for their next meal, looking for something in particular. Sometimes they look at him.

A small, rusty pen knife that his father had picked up in Europe during the Great War sits heavy in the breast pocket of his jacket. Just in case.

Book Of The Moon | 16019 words | Part 4 of Forever Is A Close And Honest Friend

In 1929, Bucky Barnes falls in love for the first time and resigns himself to never telling a soul, let alone Steve, the object of his affections. In 1943, half a world away from the man he can never have and fighting for his life and his sanity, something new begins to bloom.

Habeas Corpus | 18054 words

An unexpected incident in the field leaves Steve Rogers facing the infiltration of a Hydra base and retrieval of important intelligence, all while pretending to be the Winter Soldier. Unfortunately, there are important aspects of the Soldier's past that Bucky hasn't disclosed, and Steve has no idea what he's really walking into.

Bullies | 14979 words

Written for the MCU trash meme prompt:

I wanna see Steve being messed with by his secretly-HYDRA coworker buddies. I want them generally fucking with him, "accidentally" doing terrible things to him or getting Steve into awful situations, telling jokes that aren't really jokes, gaslighting, performing sexual-assault hazing under the guise that "that's what people do now," pressuring him into other sex shit, anything, just fuck Steve up.

Steve isn't failing to fully catch on because he's dumb or oblivious: it's just that he is Steve, so he wants to believe the best of everybody, and he doesn't want to believe that he could be working for/with bullies and that (as Natasha says) he essentially died for nothing.

Not Unwanted, Not Unloved | 50320 words

They'd resigned themselves to never becoming parents - until Bucky gets pregnant and drops off the grid without even a whisper to his mate about his condition. Steve will still raze the earth to find him, but that doesn't mean he likes what he finds.

The Tones That Tremble Down Your Spine | 13889 words

Tony tells him they’re planning a party for Steve’s birthday. He knows how parties are supposed to go.

Lacuna | 62875 words

The Winter Soldier doesn't remember Steve Rogers, but he needs Rogers' help.

OR: The one where Bucky doesn't remember Steve, but falls in love with him anyway.

Not A Perfect Soldier | 93354 words

In a world where HYDRA was wiped out in the '40s, Steve is found by the Army rather than SHIELD. General Thaddeus Ross wants a perfectly obedient super-soldier at his command, and to that end, he sets out to break Steve to his will. As Steve struggles to come to terms with all he has lost, his life in captivity is only made bearable by the presence of another prisoner-- another super-soldier known only as "Soldat". Then the Avengers strike a deal with Ross to "borrow" him for missions, and Steve is faced with a team who dislikes him, an organization he doesn't trust, and the question of what he's willing to do to escape Ross's clutches.

For Want Of Him | 103174 words

It's the twenty-first century, and Steve Rogers has never been more alone. Everything he knew, everyone he loved, is now gone, and a dark, bitter loneliness claws at him, raking bleeding gashes into his heart. And then there's Brock Rumlow. Rumlow is like salt in his wounds; vicious, and cruel. But his dark brown hair and teasing smirk reminds Steve of someone long dead, and his New York accent sounds like home...He's a soldier like him...he understands. And Steve makes the fatal mistake of trusting him.

The Same Measure | 4943 words

The Winter Soldier was never allowed to stop unless an injury was too grievous.

To Be Unmade | 5114 words | Part 1 of Alexander Pierce Should Have Died Slower

For the asset, things only ever get worse. The external scars fade quickly enough. The internal ones dig deeper and deeper.

But the internal scars are called love, and doesn't that make them worth the hurt?

Do Not Put In The Icebox | 7143 words | Part 2 of Alexander Pierce Should Have Died Slower

When the asset malfunctions on a mission, Rumlow and Rollins learn more than they ever wanted to know about Pierce's hobbies.

And then everyone has pancakes.

The Knowing Makes It Worse | 4130 words | Part 3 of Alexander Pierce Should Have Died Slower

No is a bad word and invites punishment.

Or, Alexander Pierce is a very bad man who delights in manipulating and degrading the asset.

Love Is For Children | 5303 words | Part 4 of Alexander Pierce Should Have Died Slower

Bucky understands how the game works. He can't understand why it makes Steve cry.

But Natasha and the other Avengers are there to help.

I Just Wanted To Be Sure Of You | 4461 words | Part 5 of Alexander Pierce Should Have Died Slower

Bucky has Bucky Bear; it's only fair for Natasha to have something of her own.

Visiting a toy store wasn't strictly necessary, but if Tony wants to throw money around, no one's going to complain.

“Till The End Of The Line | 6069 words | Part 6 of Alexander Pierce Should Have Died Slower

It's hard to take a friendship right back up when so much has changed over seventy years.

Particularly when HYDRA's conditioning resurfaces.

*if you feel that any of these fics shouldn’t be in this list please just send me a message! :) I have read them all but over the past 1+ years so some of them I might not remember all the details of :)

[myhalloweendreams]

I’m feeling bad about myself so I guess I’ll get in a pity time rant... sorry about that and please ignore this post

This is just me letting out some of my sorrows... I guess missing my therapy this week bc I was too focused on work didn’t help at all so I’ve to let it out

Well I’m feeling like shit bc I cant afford to live... Yay!! (life is hell too, but mostly bc of money and tiredness)

Get in the line, right?

So many people are going through this, I should stop mopping about it... I truly feel bad about being like that

like yeah u’re fucked, but if this is all u think about, will it solve anything? It ain’t, right? and I know that, i do, but still I’m always so terrified and concerned about everything and what the fuck i’m gonna do

I feel like a freaking burden and an incompetent adult... like this job doesnt pay me enough for surviving, but it isnt even a minimum age job and I really cant get anything better, I dont have enough qualifications or experience for getting anything else even in the same payment range

I work a lot, I don’t get paid enough and to help all that I have no day for receiving my payment ... it’s already the 11th day of the month and I didn’t get my payment yet, last month I receiveid my payment at the 27th of the month so I’m always stressed about if i’ll have money to pay my bills before their due date

I’m also always stressed that I’ll lose this job too... I’ve no way to surviving without it...Yay!!! How fun!!!

I eat awlfully bad and basically every single person in my life is concerned about it, but 1 i dont know how to cook and yes i know that i could look it up recipes in the internet and try until I get it right, but that get me to my second problem:

I dont have enough energy to try... I literally live all my days without energy

stress + an anxiety disorder + depression + bad eating habits + not being in the sun ever + no exercising + terrible sleeping quality = me feeling like shit and always tired as fuck every single day of my life

what gets me to not having energy even for the most simple tasks, including cooking, showering, brushing my teeth, etc.... I cant be trust even to eat, sometimes i dont even have enough energy to freaking eat

I’m always concerned about not having enough money to pay my bills + my meds + food + the least of my cat’s necessities + the house things i have to buy interchangeably with my roommates... and i dread having to ask for help of my family bc it feels like a certification of failure

I’m so out of it that I’ve medical exams requests pilling up, bc even tho my aunt decided pay a health insurance for me (god bless her soul), bc she was concerned about me, doing the exams mean that I’ve to pay for go there and comeback + whatever meds or wtv they ask for wtv they find wrong.... so i dont go + I’ve little to no energy to deal with it

I mean i have a pain in my jaw, that I’m pretty sure that i displaced, for more than 4 weeks and i didnt go to look it up bc i know i cant afford wtv they ask me to do  about it... I literally am in pay all day, every day at least an mild way, in a good day and eating and opening my mouth hurts like hell, but here i am just pretending nothing is happening, bc u know, poor people cant afford getting hurt

Dude, I was even like “I’ll go to a nutritionist to learn how to drink less milk so I can save money” but then i learned that i cant just get an appointment with one, i’ve to go to another doctor and this doctor has to give me an referral to go to them... I dont have enough energy for that... common help a bitch out

How much I’m trying to save up? 

I avoid to take meds so I dont finish them and have to buy more... headaches, flu, stomachache, diarrhea or wtv only gets to be treated with meds if it doesnt go away by itself

I count my meds so i can make my psychiatrist  appointment when it’s about to end so I dont have to buy different meds and waste the ones I already bought bc he changed them for others... are the actual ones working perfectly? probably not, but at least I wont lose money with that

(they change my meds a lot bc everything seems to stop making effects on me or at very least not making enough effects T-T )

My family wants me to buy hair supplements bc I’m getting more and more bald... i dont have money for that sweeties lol

like genetically i’m supposed to have not that much hair, but u add the stress, the anxiety and the depression to it and u get me losing more and more hair, to the point i have some bald spots and need to get my hair in some specifc ways so they dont show... Yay me³ !!

(for my family: please sweeties stop caring, i cant afford shit)

Ohh I forgot to metion, my job (home office) that doesnt pay me enough to survive normally now wants me to go to the office for meetings so lets add more travel fees to the already overpast budget

since i’ve all that going on my skin is terrible bc u know it doesnt really answers well to all that... so I’ve bad hair, bad skin, not enough money to surviving (what is leisure? I’ve no idea of what it’s to do anything for fun... i cant afford such a thing lol), enough stress, anxiety e depression to make be in the very edge + u know all the health stuff not being look up and no energy

i dont know whats peace of mind for so long now that I’m losing it, but at least I’m doing it with a smile in my face so at least my family doesnt feel burdened lol

so I guess i’m doing peachy and everything is okay lol

Well at very least I’ve my Agatha... she’s the bright side of my life

the little meow meow keeps me haging there, my baby girl is an angel and i love her with all my heart

*Me having a hard time at working*: look at my cat and go “well, I’ve to pay ur food sweetie potato... so let’s keep going”

*me not wanting to get out of bed*: remembers I’ve to feed my baby and attend to it and get up graciously as a freaking zoombie but i do

and so on

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

Well, well, well... now that I started to talk about Agatha, let it out and I cried a river I’m felling a little better

So since I’m using this as a adjunct therapy or somenthing I guess I feel like doing smt every therapist told me to do but I didnt do bc I felt like it would just make me feel worse, bc I cant have it... making a list of things I would want

I guess the first thing would be: be capable to pay all my things without problems. U know? not having to get worried about money 

the second would be: be able to upgrade the things I use in my daily life

the third: be able to give Agatha all the things I think she would like... treats, the best cat food, environmental enrichment and anything and everything she shows interested in

fourth would be: probably buy the things I like or want just bc I want to , without worrying about expending money... what totally includes buying things for all the people that I care about to my hearts content and giving them (or sending them) all the things that make me think of them and giving money to all the people that i cross asking for it or working in the crossroad

- maybe taking care of the health things that have to be taken care of (it should be somewhere in the list i guess) lol

- do things for fun

- learn things for pleasure

- buy things for and do diy things ( i love to create and to do new things)

- learn new languages... like a new one every time I finish the last one

- relearn Interior Design stuff and learn Graphic Design (i love do things in the computer)

- have a job that I like... I mean I really like (and I know that even like what u do u dont like it every day but still can u imagine working in something that makes u want to get up in the morning happily)

- retrieve my reading ability and read a lot (buy all the books that catch my eyes *---* )

- getting to know more awesome people

- learning physical things that I find cool (like i dont have any affinity with anything physical, I have no strenght either, I also have labyrinthitis what makes me give every time I try)

- buy my mom and my mom a house and give them enough money that they dont need to be worried about bills anymore (well this is probably higher in the list but since is a bigger thing I only thought about it now lol )

- taking care of my apparence I guess... I mean I would love to be able to dress in a way that i like and really be able to try things and find my own style but it would be cool to try to take care of own self too i guess... I’m not much but I guess with money and effort even I could get better, I mean my best can not be the best but still my best

- living in nice place that i’m not scared of being thrown out at any minute (renting a room in a strangers place is very worrisome) 

- OMG!! I just thought it: Go visit my international friends !!!! *----* (this one is hella important)

- do something praise worth

- have a little waterproof portable speaker so i can hear music while showering 

edit: somewhere in the begginig would be not being tired and not feeling miserable all the time, getting over my social phobia, stop having panic attacks, not driving myself insane with anxiety and intrusive thoughts, having my attention spam back, get over my body dysmorphia ... I went all for material things and forgot some pretty important stuff

This list didnt get not even close of the right order lol

it just went in the i just thought about it order lol

I guess I cant think of anything anymore... I’m already tired of dreaming of things I cant have lol 

but it was kind of fun think about nice things

[guessimwritingficsagain]

Not-a-Jedi (1/?)

Pairing : Din Djarin x reader

Summary : Since Grogu kept having nightmares about his father, you were sent to reunite them both. But nothing goes according to plan.

Warning : violence, sexy thoughts and yearnings.

Author's note : This was supposed to be a one shot but it's not.

When Master Luke had come to you with Grogu, you hadn’t thought much of it. The kid had been restless, he’d explained, visions of his father plaguing his mind every night.

‘I think he is meant to see him. His father might be in danger. Grogu won’t rest until he can help.’

You were no Jedi, but you could fly a ship, fire a blaster, kill, even, and Luke knew you and trusted you so he’d given you Grogu, and the name Nevarro to start with. Lured by the idea of leaving the little shop you worked at, after years of trying to settle down, live a quiet life, and knowing that grumpy boss of yours would take you back when your mission was over, you’d agreed to take Grogu to his father.

Now, though, with a blaster pointed at your head and a Mandalorian at the other end of it, you weren’t so sure. Screw Luke Skywalker and his sweet smiles.

‘Where did you get the kid ?’

You swallowed, your heartbeat picking up. As you were struggling for an answer, Grogu just cooed and his hands shot up towards the Mandalorian.

Luke hadn’t updated the very Mandalorian father about the whereabouts of his kid, you were slowly understanding. And now there was a blaster, pointed directly to your head - that deserved to be emphasized.

You tried to explain, hating how you were struggling, stumbling on your words like a new-born babe on an uneven sidewalk. When you were done, the Mandalorian stood so still you blessed whatever god you didn’t believe in because death was sure to be quick and painless. But it never came.

Instead, you felt Grogu’s weight being lifted from your arms as you heard the Mandalorian whisper :

‘Miss me, kid ?’

The baby cooed, while a lady you hadn’t noticed at first lowered her rifle, tapped the baby on the forehead.

‘Nice to meet you, Jedi. I’m Cara Dune.’

You shook her offered hand and corrected her :

‘Not a Jedi.’

You gave her your name, but she playfully smiled and answered :

‘Nice to meet you, Not-a-Jedi.’

The Mandalorian had turned away, already walking back into town. Cara motioned you to follow. You looked around as you walked. So much sand. You could feel it slipping in your boots, too. Not a fan of that, you decided. It was hot, and your weapon of choice was heavy against your back. Cara was talking to the Mandalorian, though you couldn’t make up her words. You’d rather trail behind, unsure of what to do next. Luke’s words hadn’t been specific. Stay with them or don’t, but if you don’t, know that a time will come when you need to get Grogu back here. When, though, I don’t know.

You liked Luke, really, but the cryptic wizard bullshit was getting old. You briefly wondered how you had been so fascinated by the whole thing in the first place.

Once you were sat at a table in the local cantina, a drink in front of you, Cara casually asked :

‘So, Not-a-Jedi, how come the Jedi trusted you with the kid ?’

She was leaned back on her chair, legs spears apart, but somehow you could tell she was ready to break you in half. And maybe, she could. You might have had five whole teenage, foolish years of something akin to street-fighting behind you, but she was huge and clearly military-trained. And there was a Mandalorian sitting next to her. You weren’t about to take that chance, not after many years of keeping to yourself, the hard muscles softening with a bit of fat here and there, not with the slight softening of your belly. The street-fighting had been about adrenaline. You’d been too young, too cocooned by parents scared of the world, and you’d wanted out. You’d liked the danger of it, back then, the very idea that one wrong move could leave you with a broken spine turning you on, but never scary enough to dwell on it. You’d felt invincible, back then. Fights had been foreplay to encounters in a dark street, quiet fucks to release a tension you shouldn’t have felt. You’d had a family, a roof. You were privileged, but it was boring. A spoiled brat. You still were, in a way. Spoiled brats don’t fight military-trained huge lady, and they surely don’t fight Mandalorians.

‘The Temple needs supplies. Luke gets them from me - from us. I work at a small shop in a town not far from the Temple.’

She nodded, while the Mandalorian kept quiet, visor trained on the kid who was happily downing his food like you hadn’t fed him since you’d departed.

‘Slow down, kid.’ You muttered without thinking and raised a hand to stop him. The stare of the Mandalorian stilled your movement, though, and you brought your hand back to your own cup.

‘You must be tired’, Cara continued. ‘Long journey ?’

Your hands gripped the cup harder at that, the words out of your mouth before you thought better of it.

‘Can’t tell you that.’

She leaned in.

‘Why not ?’

You swallowed, and met her stare.

‘The Temple’s location is secret. If I tell you how long we’ve been travelling for, that’s a piece of information. I can’t do that.’

‘Not even to the kid’s dad ?’ She quipped back, gesturing the unmoving warrior. There was a slight simmer of tension in the air. They don’t know you, they have every right to be suspicious, you reminded yourself. But you didn’t know them either.

‘He’s not the one asking. I don’t know who you are. This is the kind of information I could give to him, but not with you here.’

‘Yes, you can.’ A modulated voice interrupted. ‘I trust Cara with my life. She was there when the Jedi took the Child.’

It wasn’t so much the sentence itself that moved you, but the way Cara’s body slightly turned towards the kid and his father, the way her face grew grave.

‘A week or so.’ You quietly admitted, after a beat.

The Mandalorian hummed in answer and silence fell over you all. You were starting to feel uncomfortable when he spoke again, his voice harsh and cold as the Beskar he was wearing :

‘You’re gonna spend the day and the night here, but tomorrow morning, you’re both gone. It’s too dangerous.’

That, you hadn’t expected.

‘That’s- That’s not what Luke said-‘

‘If I’m in danger, then you both need to leave as soon as possible.’

———

The kid was screaming. You’d figured it would go down that way, with the Mandalorian intent on having you go back to the Temple. Then, a three-fingered hand landed on your cheek and everything went elsewhere.

The Mandalorian was on the floor of a ship you didn’t recognize, chest heaving up and down, and blood everywhere.

‘Stay with me’, you heard yourself say. ‘Come on, stay with me. I’m here, I’m gonna patch you uo. It’s going to be okay. Grogu- Grogu can do it too.’

When you came to, you were on the floor of your own ship, and Grogu was softly crying in the arms of the Mandalorian.

‘We can’t leave’ you choked, as Cara was helping you up. ‘We can’t leave.’

You took a few steps, and you threw up.

When you woke up, you were in a bed and a doctor was checking your vitals. She probed, and asked too many questions, but couldn’t find a single thing wrong with you. You weren’t about to tell her that a fifty-year-old kid had shown you a vision of yourself trying to save his father, so you let it be.

Instead, you used your best bed-ridden voice to convince the Mandalorian that you both should stay with him because you might just die if the kid pulled that kind of stunt again - and maybe you were right, because Grogu meant well but you felt like that time you’d had one week of sexy times with a nice Zeltron lady. You couldn’t walk properly, and your mind was elsewhere, though this time, the elsewhere was definitely not as nice as it had been back then.

Which is how you ended up on Mando’s ship, the Galactica, strapping up for a journey through memory lane. Apparently, since he was stuck with the two of you, Mando wanted to take the kid back to people who mattered to him.

Next stop : Tatooine.

And the welcome on that planet was something else. You liked Peli the moment you met her, with the way she gave shit to Mando just because she could. She took to you, too, and when, your nerves vibrating with excitement, you asked her where you could see a good fight, she pointed right where you needed to be and added, for good mesure :

‘Keeping the kid will cost you extra, but I can take care of him if you want.’

This was the Mandalorian’s money you were playing with, but you figured that if you bet some and won some, that wouldn’t be an issue. You agreed, and went on your merry way while Mando was out shopping for rations.

Except, when you got there, the thrill of it all got to you. Your skin itched to go up there, on the ring. To knock somebody out. You hadn’t felt that way in years. Maybe it was the thrill of the adventure. Maybe it was the Mandalorian, and his cold front. Maybe it was the Mandalorian, but for other reasons : you were supposed to save his life, you’d seen it. Maybe you could prevent this from ever happening if you went back in there.

No matter the reason, you did it. You watched the winner, raised your hand, and got up.

———

It had been easy. Easier than when you were younger. You’d been stuck on the Galactica for a while, and you’d needed release.

You won, fair and square, and went back to the ship, covered in blood but the weight of the ten thousand credits comforting at your side. You went to pay Peli but her answer surprised you :

‘Did you win ?’

‘Yes.’

‘So you ended that idiot ? The blond one ? I can never remember his name but he’s a pain. So smug.’

‘Yes, I did.’

Peli looked at you, and smiled.

‘Free of charge, then. I hope Mando is smart enough to keep you around.’

Mando himself said nothing about the bruises and the cuts on your body, but he let you heal yourself. You figured, then, he knew you could take care of yourself.

You spent a while with Peli, time passing like a blur, the days almost all the same. Mando didn’t seem in a hurry to see you leave anymore, indulging in the selfish feeling of joy to have the kid back. You kept going back to the cantina to fight. Kept winning, and the grin you wore every time you got back must have intrigued Mando because he came to see you fight, one night.

The moment you spotted him in the crowd both threw you off and cleared your mind to a point of concentration you’d never reached before. You didn’t stop to try and understand the feeling, not with the way you could hear every cheer, not with that visor looking right at you, not with that beast suddenly clawing at your belly with new ferocity. You didn’t stop and understand the feeling, because suddenly you were fighting him. Your faceless opponent became Mando in your mind, and as you threw punches with renewed ferocity, images - fantasies - spilled in your mind, of him taking you in a dark alley, both of you still sweaty and dirty from the fight. Even better was the fact that you knew you could never beat him. Would you yield, though ? Would you get on your knees and beg for mercy ? Or would your pride take over your lust and lead you to fight until he had you pinned down and unable to breathe ?

It was amazing, you’d reflect later, how one’s body could move on pure instinct, before for the rest of that fight, your mind was elsewhere but you were moving with a deadly precision, ready to strike, ready to hurt, ready to win. And win, you did.

He wasn’t in the cantina anymore when you came back in after collecting your winnings. The fire in your belly went out suddenly at that, an empty feeling replacing that burning sensation, your fingers no longer tingling but heavy with ache. Your opponent - you still hadn’t caught his name - offered you a drink you accepted, but drank too fast for it to lead to anything more. The urge to get out of there was only made stronger when the man in front of you asked, innocently enough :

‘You travellin’ with the Mandalorian ? You guys showed up here at the same time and he only ever shows up when you fight.’

So he’d come here before, was your first thought. The second, though, was much more unpleasant : the kid.

You were drawing too much attention to yourself. You left the cantina eager to get to the Battlestar, only to be stopped by an iron grip on your arm. Your reflexes kicked in and you landed a hard punch on - something very hard. The pain was so intense it travelled through your whole body and made you shiver, tears prickling at the corner of your eyes as your body curled onto itself.

‘It’s me.’ You heard, the modulated voice now familiar. And then, as an afterthought : ‘Sorry.’

‘A little warning, next time. That’d be nice.’ You all but wheezed, the pain in your hand burning you whole.

‘Sorry.’ The helmet repeated, even though the hand on you was not easing its grip.

You had some bruises on you, the morning after. A split lip, too, and an almost nasty wound on your left eyebrow. The biggest bruise of all, though, was the one on the hand that had struck the Mandalorian, a huge ugly shape, purple and green and blue. You couldn’t flex your left hand without tears coming to your eyes. You wondered how sick you were, because you couldn’t look at it without being turned on. It was a good thing that you were right-handed, too : you weren’t that incapacitated, and you could also keep touching yourself in a very capable way. Small blessings.

———

That grip thing, Mando squeezing your arm to lead you wherever, that iron grip to stabilize you, became a thing. And you were quickly getting that what he represented, that sense of danger about him, turned you on almost all the fucking time. The rest of the time, well, he was being a very good dad and that-

Fuck.

Let’s just say you had it bad.

You left for Mos Pelgo a week later, after Mando asked you why you didn’t go fighting anymore and you revealed your worries about being too much in the spotlight, and how afraid you were that it could affect the safety of the kid. After that conversation, he set course immediately for your next destination, leaving you just enough time to say goodbye to Peli.

‘Thanks for teaching that boy a lesson.’

You thought back on your first fight and answered, your grin predatory :

‘Oh, him ? He was too cocky, but not that good of a fighter, really.’

Peli laughed.

‘Not that boy. The other one. The one with a bucket on his head. Stubborn ass who won’t think for a second about what is good for him. You got him to relax, enjoy his time with the kid and remember people who care about them.’

You could tell it was a lot for her to admit that she cared about the Mandalorian himself so you just shrugged. You watched as she bid her goodbyes to the kid and his father, before she turned to you and added :

‘Hope I’ll see you again, Korra.’

‘Korra ?’ You asked.

It was her turn to shrug as she explained :

‘A silly story my parents used to tell me. In a galaxy far far away, there was a woman who could manipulate fire, earth, air, and water. But she was also very strong. Kicked everybody’s ass. You remind me of that story.’

It wasn’t until later, on the speeder, that Mando said : ‘Korra, I like that.’ With the wind blowing, you thought you’d imagined it. But then, he started calling you that.

Cobb was friendly, funny, a bit too cocky. A few years back, you would have gone for a man like him. The thought that you could, still, and that he might not be opposed to it was nice but not enticing enough for you to act on it. Still, the two of you fell into a rhythm of harmless banter, and flirting. What could have been fun became a game of pushing and pulling : the Marshal would make you laugh and Mando would just grab your arm, the feeling of his grip now familiar to you, something to ground you, even. You entertained the fantasy, for a moment, that he wanted you the way you wanted him.

And maybe, maybe, you were not wrong.

Here you were, a few days after landing, joking with the Marshal as you felt Mando’s hand grab your arm. Tight, like that time after the fight. That shouldn’t have made you restless but it dit, your knees bouncing with excitement at the idea to take on the Mandalorian himself. So when everybody started to go to bed, he grabbed your arm, again, and led you to the Battlestar. Once you were alone, the kid asleep, he dropped all the Beskar except for the helmet, and whispered, a challenge :

‘Come on, Korra, come at me.’

You did as you were asked, a nice obedient girl even though you were feral. He won, though. Of course he did. Your back was hurting against the floor as one of his hands kept you there, easily. He was looking at you, you felt, above you as one hand tied yours together, and the other on your ribs, right below your heart.

‘Din.’ He said.

Din, you understood, as your mind went back to that fight, that fantasy.

Din, you thought after he let you laying there, chest heaving, while he entered new coordinates.

------

If you want to be tagged just say the word.

[forbiddenfantasies1]

J/B Smut Swap Fic Recs

There have been so many amazing fics posted in the @jb-smut-swap, but I wanted to share the ones that have really stuck out for me. The amount of talent this fandom has continues to be ridiculous so this is long but in no way comprehensive.

Shocker...I got wordy so it's under the cut. I limited this one to 5 just because I couldn't shut up about them. At least one more will be coming (that's what she said).

with those who know secret things for SimoneBlack, rated E. The premise for Brienne as a sex worker and Jaime, a client who is seeking freedom and trust, could so easily be mishandled. This was anything but. It is somehow simultaneously wonderfully dirty and so, so tender. I lost my mind reading this, and it was worth every throw of my pillow. I'm still trying to understand how it had so much heat with so much heart.

Lines that will live in my head forever: There are several, but I'm gonna go with:

“Do you like to be touched, Jaime?”

“Yes,” he breathed.

Her finger stopped just above his navel, and when she pulled her hand away he swayed towards her. “But you aren't touched often,” she said, warm as a lazy afternoon. He listened for mockery, but there was none, just a fact, stated with quiet empathy.

“No.”

Blue placed her palm – studded with smoothed-down calluses and cooler than he expected – over his heart. “Do you want me to touch you tonight?”

The answer is yes, by the way

what is dark in me illumine for @bussdowntarthiana, rated E. Yall. This fic ruined me for an hour solid. My note on it says "made me want to throw myself through a plate glass window, and then eat the glass" and it's true. Jaime is a bar owner (and an ethical, exiled demon). Brienne is an ethics professor. Their attraction feels so layered, and the vibes of consent, and honor, and acceptance are woven through the smuttiest smut perfectly.

Lines that will live in my head forever: Again, there are so many, BUT this and the scene directly after it will live in my head FOREVER.

Her tongue darts out to wet her lips. Her pupils are spreading, darkness over the ocean. "I like hard and fast and filthy," she says evenly. "But do you want to know what happens to me when I hear you talk about how you've chosen to make your way in this world?"

He does. Desperately. "What?"

She opens her mouth, then seems to change her mind. "Maybe in this case, a demonstration would be the better pedagogical tool."

That prim word with all those consonants bouncing around in her mouth makes him want to sink his teeth into her. "Please feel free, Doctor Tarth."

(I can't talk about what her demonstration was because it makes me want to break things).

Hush for TwoKnightsOneCup, rated E. This is another that fell in the "Fuck this fic and this writer" category for me. It's a 5+1 structured fic where Jaime is a chopper pilot and Brienne is a researcher in Antarctica, and they're trying to fuck quietly all over the place without getting caught. Stupidly hot with amazing scenery porn, and some singular lines that will have you wanting to throw hands at the author for burrowing into your brain.

Lines that will live in my head forever: I almost picked the part with the belt, but honestly it's so fucking horny on main and I'm trying to have some decorum here. So I'll go with this instead.

“I’m taking these off,” Jaime tells her, his voice a low growl, and Brienne flushes but she lets him peel her thermal tights and underwear down while she sprawls on the bedroll before him, and it feels like flying in low out of the clouds over the frozen coastline for the first time, seeing the glacier rolling down to the water’s edge: the impossible extent of it, the startled sense of wonder. There are fading bruises on her shins and the vivid bright rash of a scrape on her knee, and he marvels at all the colors that make up the endless landscape of her. But then he nudges her knees apart and sees her cunt wet and open for him, smells her, and he realizes she’s not like that pallid, uninhabitable scenery at all: she’s pink and red and alive, almost steaming in the cool air. His mouth waters, and he shoves his arms under her thighs and descends.

But seriously...the part with the belt? Whew.

Lines that will live in my head forever: When they eventually came up for air, he looked at her with a look she’d seen on him in the courtyard every time he was going to go on the offence. Here, she knew not what it meant, yet it still sent a similar sort of anticipation down her spine.

Thrust Exercises for greenmtwoman, rated E. God this damn fic. First of all, it's basically canon divergence with a young Jaime and Brienne. Jaime has been Master at Arms at Evenfall ever since Selwyn lugged his ass home after the Rebellion like the world's mouthiest souvenir. There are three things to know about this fic: 1) Jaime and Brienne are genuinely friends in this. Their history and affection are just so apparent. 2) Jaime plans (beforehand!) to introduce Brienne to strip sparring (!!!) before the bedding. And 3) Jaime is so horny for his wife, y'all. He wants her so bad and there's a moment where he realizes she wants him too that made my heart migrate to my eyes.

“It means, I want you.” Before she could ask, he said, “I told you before, didn't I? Your face is very loud.”

She frowned; he lifted himself on his toes and kissed the knot between her brows.

“I quite like it,” he said, “your very loud face.”

They just like each other so much. I can't stand it.

Light my fire for me, and rated E. I've already recced this one in a separate post, but it's my list and I can do what I want. And what I want is to tell people to read this fic because I loved it so much. Brienne and Jaime are coworkers at a ski lodge, and are celebrating the end of a season. Jaime, bless his thotty soul, is wearing a union suit under his ski wear, and if that isn't code for "wants his dick admired" well then I don't know what is. When their roommates hook up, Jaime and Brienne are forced to share a cabin and if it has so many of my favorite tropes in it, I can barely stand it. I was so, so happy with my gift, and I just want everyone to read it and be happy too.

Lines that will live in my head forever: They stand in front of the fireplace and Jaime backs up half a step, watching her from beneath hooded eyelids as he undoes more buttons of his union suit. He takes his time, and she lets her eyes devour every sliver of skin he slowly exposes – muscled chest with dark blond hair scattered across it, defined abs highlighted by the orange glow of the fire, the V of muscle at the bottom of his stomach that leads her eyes down to the hard jut of his cock outlined by the cloth. He stops unbuttoning just there, sliding the top of the union suit down off his shoulders and letting the arms hang at his sides.

This is literally why I prompted the union suit. All I wanted was Jaime in a union suit with Brienne admiring the shape of his cock through the thin fabric. That's it. The one paragraph hit every dream I had for it, but all the other paragraphs are good too.

[fuckingthefictional]

All I want- (part one)

Michael Gray x reader

Written version of this gifset that I made, bonus points for anyone who can find the lyrics to a certain song that inspired this.

Next Chapter is found —> here

For @finallyforgotten who wanted more of this :)

Henry used to be Y/N’s knight in shining armour. He was always there, he was perfect and filled her up with all the love that she could possibly want or need.

He used to tell Y/N that she was a star in his eyes, he’d hold the door open for her and hold her hand in the dark.

He was just always there.

And Y/N felt as if she was never alone. Until one day she was.

When Henry suddenly left, it caused a brewing storm to swirl inside of the pit of the young woman’s stomach.

But when Y/N brought it up with her mother, the only claim was that “men like Henry were perfect on paper, but they lie to the face.”

It frustrated her- did Henry think she was the kind of girl who needed to be saved. Is that why he took such interest in her? Because she was an easy target?

All of these questions just created more stress and sadness to strike Y/N’s body. She didn’t know who to trust or believe anymore.

It didn’t matter what she conjured up in her mind- All that stood was that Henry had left and with him he took Y/N’s heart.

But he’d left something with her, something that he didn’t know about. And that was his child- the same child that grew within Y/N.

“Ticket ma’am?”

Y/N looked up from her book to see a portly looking train conductor stood in front of her.

“Yes, sorry.” She reached down to her pocket and pulled out the slip of paper, handing it to the gentleman.

He inspected it for a moment, before puncturing a hole into the side, “Are you sure you’re meant to be taking a single to London miss?”

Y/N’s heart leapt up into her throat, “Yes, my mother purchased the ticket for me, I’m to meet my cousin at the station.” She rambled on.

The train conductor passed the slip of paper back, “if you say so.” He mumbled before walking away.

It was only half true, Y/N mused, she was meeting her cousin at the station and her mother did purchase the ticket for her. But she was going to London indefinitely, to have her baby out of the prying eyes of her neighbours.

As her father said before she left, ‘she and her cousin could be the family disgraces together’.

Y/N watched as the world went past, flashes of green melted into a drab mix of greys.

Her new life was moments away, as the train pulled into King’s cross station.

Taking a deep breath, Y/N heaved down her luggage (careful to avoid her stomach region) and began to disembark off the steam engine.

She scanned around frantically, praying that she hadn’t been stood up by her cousin.

“Y/N!”

Whipping around at the sound of her name, she came face to face with her older cousin.

James, wasn’t much older than she was. He was a few years older than she (but he took great pride in bragging about it and holding it over her head).

In fact it had been a good few years since Y/N had even seen James, as he was banned from the family when he was 17.

After he was caught in bed with another male- it meant nothing to Y/N then and nothing to her now.

He was happy, if he found love in the arms of a man then who was she to judge? - she was 17, pregnant and unmarried.

“James!” The pair embraced, swaying as the did so.

“Come on,” the man exclaimed, “we can talk more when we get home.” And with that he picked up the luggage and guided her through the station.

~

“So how come you’ve suddenly decided to come and live with me hmm?”

Y/N paused, debating on what to say but ultimately deciding that there was no point in hiding it at this point.

“I’m pregnant.” She spoke, “and father is ready to disown me so, they sent me to you.”

“Jesus Y/N/N you’re 17,” he rubbed his face with his hands, “You’re practically a child yourself.”

Y/N felt her body shake, “you know if I had a bobbin for every time someone has said that to me, I’d be a fucking millionaire,” she laughed without humour, “I’m going to be a mother james, and every single time someone says what you said, I become more determined to be a good mum.”

“Y/N sit down for a second and stop ranting.” James pointed opposite to the chair she’d previously been occupying, “What I was going to say was that you’re young, so you’re going to need all the support you can get. Which is why I’m going to be here for you every step of the way.”

-

Months later, Y/N was nearing the last month of her pregnancy.

It wasn’t an overreaction to say that she was big. She felt like a bloated whale.

But the young mother found herself getting support from both James and Ada.

God, Y/N was so thankful for Ada. She was the most genuine, caring and hardworking woman that Y/N had ever met.

They’d become great friends ever since they had first met.

The older woman was understanding, but not disconcerting. Loving, but not in a smothering sort of way. Supportive and just damn genuine.

Ada became like the older sister she never had growing up, and the latter was but all happy to take on that role.

She was the one that Y/N could confide in- even about Henry.

“What about the father?”

Y/N looked down, tears already pooling in her eyes, “He’s a boy from my past.” She sniffled,”We fell in love but it didn’t last.”

Ada looked sympathetic, “What happened?”

Y/N found herself shrugging, “It was just like- the second I figured it out he pushed me away,” she steadied her voice, “And I won’t fight for love if he won’t meet me half way- I won’t do it Ada. And I say that I’m through with him, but here I am talking and crying over him.”

Y/N looked at her friend who seemed to be waiting for her to carry on, “All I want it a good guy,” she stated, “Are my expectations far to high? Is there something wrong with me for wanting that?”

Ada just leant forwards, placing her hands on top of Y/N’s shaking ones, “Look- I’ve been through all of these questions. There’s nothing wrong with you okay- I mean look at you Y/N,” she pointed at the other girl’s body, “You’re trying your best at the end of the day, you’re not alone, you have me, Karl, James and Your own child and that is enough for me. You should be proud.”

It was through Ada that Y/N met Thomas Shelby for the first time- which at the time she hadn’t known but would become her future employer.

What was there to say about Thomas Shelby. He was intimidating, he demanded the power of the room. And his eyes- God his eyes. They were piercing blue and just made you cold by looking at them.

The first time Y/N had met the man, she swore she could feel her child squirm inside her, almost as if they were turning away in comfort.

But Ada soon set the record straight, reassuring her brother that Y/N was trusted by her and that the younger girl was a close friend.

The second time that Tommy and Y/N ran into each other was quite literally so. Y/N had been going out for walks (something recommended by her doctor), she was due any day at that point.

She’d been walking in her own little world, fantasising about what her child would look like. Whether they would have Henry’s unruly curls or her eyes.

And then she walked into a wall. A rather tall, slim wall. That spoke with a Brummie accent...and wore a pocket watch.

It was by then that Y/N had realised that it wasn’t actually a brick wall she’d stumbled into. But in fact Thomas Shelby.

Immediately you had stuttered an apology, explaining why you had been so out of it.

He took one look at you. A quick up and down. Before he spoke, “When’re you due?”

The answer caught Y/N completely off guard, she had been expecting a threat for scuffing up his shoes.

“Um, actually I’m due any day now.” She stammered, rubbing her belly lovingly. It was strange really- just how quick she’d grown to love the life inside of her.

The Brummie hummed in understanding, “I remember when Ada was that far along with Karl- a right bloody firecracker she was.”

Y/N smiled slightly, it sure sounded like Ada.

“Listen- Ada would ‘ave my bollocks on a silver platter if I didn’t walk you back to the ‘ouse,” Tommy licked his lips, “So.” He gestured to the arm he was holding out.

“Thank you Mr Shelby.” Y/N said, holding on his arm as they walked the last few streets.

“Tommy- call me Tommy.”

-

Matthew James Johnson was born kicking and screaming on the 14th of February at exactly 2 o’clock in the morning.

He weighed in at 6 pounds and 4 ounces and was everything Y/N could’ve ever imagined or hoped for.

As predicted Matthew held a head full of soft, blonde curls (just like his father) and his eyes were her own Y/E/C. He was just the perfect little mix of her and Henry.

And even though it broke her heart at first, she eventually began to see it as a blessing. Her baby was someone who she would love forever, who she would never let down.

-

A months later Y/N strolled into the apartment angrily. She was turned out of a job, yet again. It felt like it was becoming an impossible feat.

She was simply just unemployable, which angered her hugely.

Y/N was a mother for Christ’s sake, she had a baby who depended on her. How on earth was she supposed to do that for someone if she couldn’t even get a steady stream of income coming through the door.

Matthew was around 8 months old now, he was a troublemaker- but still managed to capture his mother’s heart at every glance. He made Y/N’s life worth it, he really did.

Slamming the large door behind her, she shrugged off her coat and hung it up on the coat rack. There was another that had been added to the normal pile.

Ada’s family must’ve been visiting again. She quietly crept through the hallway, attempting to stay out of the eyes of the Shelby family.

It would’ve worked mind you- if Matthew hadn’t spotted you through the crack in the doorway.

“Ma-ma-ma.” He babbled happily from the floor.

Y/N walked in almost guiltily, scooping up her baby boy from the carpet and planting a soft kiss on his rosy red cheeks.

Ada stopped mid conversation and looked up at Y/N hopefully, “So?”

“Turned away.” The young mother answered frustratedly, “It getting tiring now Ada, I-“

“Ada love, are you going to introduce me to your friend?” The voice came from a stern looking woman.

“Pol,” Ada turned the woman, “This is Y/N- James’ cousin and a close friend of mine.” She turned to the girl who was still holding the wriggling baby, “And this is Matthew, Y/N’s baby boy and my godson.”

Polly was stared intently at the boy in Y/N’s arms. The stare itself was calculating and judgemental but Y/N felt...oddly safe around the woman.

“He’s a beautiful boy,” She spoke softly, “reminds me of my Michael when he was this size.”

Y/N just smiled awkwardly, she had no clue who Michael was, she cleared her throat, asking timidly “Would you like to hold him?”

The older woman opened her arms for the child, and when Matthew was safe in them he gurgled happily.

The door creaked open again, this time Tommy walked through the frame.

The pair had actually become quite good friends of the past months. There was nothing romantic, or remotely sexual about their relationship. It was just a friendship.

Tommy was an the older brother, he kept and eye out and looked out for the girl and her son.

“Y/N.” He nodded to the girl, “When did you get in?”

“Just now,” she replied, “Job interview ran over.”

“And?” He prompted, hand digging in his blazer pocket for a cigarette.

“No smoking around the children Tommy- you know the rules,” Y/N reminded him, “And it didn’t go well- they turned me away.”

Tommy appeared to be deep in thought, “My fiancé is due to have a baby in May.” He paused again, “If you’d accept- I’d be happy to hire you as the baby’s nanny.”

“But Matthew-“

“Can stay with you while you work, it’s only a matter of balancing your family life and work life.”

“Has your fiancé agreed with this arrangement?” Y/N folded her arms.

“She will, she trusts me- and I trust you.” Tommy looked deeply at you, “So?”

“Okay.” The young woman looked at Ada, “I’ll do it.”

[alicemarion]

OUTLAST :  THE  MURKOFF  ACCOUNT  (  PART 2  )   sentence starters !

this  prompt  was  made  using  dialogue  from  issues  #4 ,    #5  and  #6  of  outlast :  the  murkoff  account  by  red  barrels .    feel  free  to  edit  any  of  these  to  make  them  more  suitable !

“  _____  wasn’t  fucking  around  about  disappearing .  ”

“  our  chances  of  finding  a  lead  in  this  are  vanishingly  slim .  ”

“  what  you  got  there ?  ”

“  i  hate  it  when  they  have  families .  ”

“  since  when  did  _____  hurt  women  and  kids ?  ”

“  sorry ,    that  was  in  bad  taste .  ”

“  he’s  been  gone  for  a  while  now .  ”

“  i  saw  him  back  just  last  night .  ”

“  i  saw  him ,     standing  right  over  there .  ”

“  drove  my  dogs  batshit ,    which  is  weird .  ” 

“  they  always  used  to  like  him .  ”

“  _____  said  _____  was  here  last  night .  ”

“  it’d  take  us  days  to  find  him  under  all  this  shit  if  he  was .  ”

“  guess  we  better  get  started  then .  ”

“  it’s  garbage .  ”

“  is  ...    is  some  of  this  garbage  moving ?  ”

“  ants .    the  place  is  infested .  ”

“  what  do  you  mean ?  ”

“  emailed  him  ants .    not  the  strangest  thing  i’ve  seen .  ”

“  these  look  like  passwords .  ”

“  ouch !  ”

“  little  fucker  bit  me .  ”

“  black  ants  don’t  bite .  ”

“  motherfucker !    motherfuckfuckfuck -  ”

“  they’re  all  over  me !    jesus !  ”

“  not  there !    not  there !  ”

“  water !    water !  ”

“  goddammit !    make  room !    i’m  coming  in !  ”

“  fuck  this !  ”

“  it’s  not  working !  ”

“  we  need  fire !  ”

“  take  your  fucking  clothes  off !  ”

“  now  do  me !  ”

“  got  anything  i  could  wear ?  ”

“  nope .  ”

“  what  the  fuck  am  i  gonna  do ?  ”

“  hey ,    that’s  the  same  homeless  guy .  ”

“  that’s  not  possible .  ”

“  i’m  sure  it’s  him .    he’s  following  us .  ”

“  hey !    stop !  ”

“  where’d  you  go  ...   ?  ”

“  you  work  for  _____  ,    don’t  you ?  ”

“  ...    who  are  you ?  ”

“  i  believe  you’ve  heard  of  me .  ”

“  you’ve  been  following  us .  ”

“  what’s  your  name ?  ”

“  yes .    i’ve  been  watching  you .  ”

“  you’ve  got  something  most  running  dog  mercenaries  don’t .  ”

“  i’m  not  a  mercenary .  ”

“  you’ve  got  shame .   you  know  what  you’re  doing  is  wrong .  ”

“  it’s  a  job .  ”

“  but  you’re  somebody  who’d  chase  after  me  ,    despite  the  fact  that  you’re  injured  and  naked .    who  does  that ?  ”

“  ...    i  can’t  stand  not  knowing .  ”

“  tell  me  your  name .  ”

“  i’ve  read  your  files  ,    _____ .  ”

“  six  years  ago  you  leaked  company  files  and  vanished .  ”

“  been  off  the  map  ever  since  ,    encouraging  other  whistleblowers .  ”

“  you’re  trying  to  destroy  _____ .  ”

“  of  course  i  am .  ”

“  they’re  evil .    you  work  for  the  devil .  ”

“  you’re  protecting  _____ ?  ”

“  you’ll  never  find  him .  ”

“  i  couldn’t  tell  you  if  i  knew .  ”

“  willful  ignorance .    i  remember  that .    almost  let  me  sleep  some  nights .  ”

“  how  do  you  sleep ?  ”  

“  how  do  you  justify  working  for  people  you  know  are  evil ?   ”

“  _____  was  a  pebble  in  a  pond .  ”

“  that  is  where  the  real  sickness  spreads .  ”

“  those  are  coordinates .  ”

“  if  you  cannot  look  at  what’s  there  and  not  eat  yourself  hollow  with  shame  ,    you’re  not  human  anymore .  ”

“  i  need  your  help .  ”

“  i  need  somebody  still  inside  _____ .  ”

“  i’m  not  asking  ,    i’m  telling  you .   you’re  going  to  help  me .  ”

“  ...    i  have  to  do  my  job .  ”

“  what  are  you  ...    the  fuck ?!  ”

“  freeze !    i  said  freeze  ,    motherfucker !  ”

“  i’m  leaving .  ”

“  please  don’t  make  me  hurt  you .  ”

“  he’s  ...    a  monster .  ”

“  what  was  he  shoving  in  your  face ?  ”

“  fucked  if  i  know .  ”

“  let’s  get  you  some  clothes  before  i  get  too  turned  on .  ”

“  dental  records .   my  identification .   he  wasn’t  done  with  me .  ”

“  and  we  weren’t  done  with  him .  ”

“  this  make  any  kind  of  sense  to  you ?  ”

“  nothing  i  feel  good  about .  ”

“  but  at  least  it  closes  the  books  for  now .  ”

“  the  evidence  couldn’t  get  any  more  thoroughly  destroyed .  ”

“  there  is  one  more  thing .  ”

“  nothing  i  know  of .  ”

“  i  wouldn’t  put  too  much  faith  in  anything  i  heard  from  an  animated  pile  of  maggots .  ”

“  maybe  we  should  check  it  out .  ”

“  nah  ,    leave  it  alone .  ”

“  you  should  get  home  ,    spend  some  time  with  your  daughter  ...    make  sure  she  doesn’t  grow  up  to  be  somebody  like  me .  ”

“  he  ain’t  gonna  let  us  get  away .  ”

“  every  step  we  take  ,    the  less  power  he  got .  ”

“  we’ll  get  to  the  wicked  part  of  the  world  ,    and  god  hisself  ain’t  even  gonna  be  able  to  find  us .  ”

“  do  you  know  if  yeshua - ha  nostri  was  a  real  person ?   like  ,    in  the  bible ?  ”

“  never  heard  of  him .  ”

“  when’s  that  book  report  due ?  ”

“  you’re  getting  an  early  jump .  ”

“  figured  i’d  be  too  beat  to  work  on  wednesday .  ”

“  you  didn’t  touch  your  dinner .  ”

“  i  wasn’t  hungry .   it’s  not  like  i  need  the  extra  calories .  ”

“  _____  ,    honey  ,    that’s  crazy .  ”

“  you’re  a  string  bean .    a  beautiful  string  bean .  ”

“  shut  up  ,    _____  ,    god  ...    ”

“  there’s  somebody  messing  with  our  mailbox .  ”

“  your  daughter  is  connected .  ”

“  my  partner  and  i  had  agreed  not  to  investigate .  ”

“  turns  out  i  was  lying .  ”

“  i  hear  you  now .    where  are  you ?    it’s  noisy .  ”

“  sorry  to  interrupt  you  on  a  sunday  ...    ”

“  you’re  not  interrupting  anything .  ”

“  i  was  just  ...    folding  laundry  ,    listening  to  prairie  home  companion .  ”

“  i  don’t  think  i’m  gonna  make  it  into  the  office  tomorrow .  ”

“  i  need  to  spend  some  time  with  _____ .  ”

“  no  worries .    we  all  need  personal  time .  ”

“  fuck  me  ...    no  service !  ”

“  i  guess  the  heat  and  the  sun  got  to  me .  ”

“  heavenly  god .  ”

“  _____ ?    what’s  wrong ?  ”

“  are  they  out  of  hot  chocolate ?  ”

“  multiple  perforations  of  the  intestines  ...    spread  throughout  her  blood  ...    had  to  induce  a  coma  in  order  to  arrest  progress  ...    internal  bleeding  ...  ”  

“  surgery  is  no  longer  an  option .  ”    

“  _____  is  dead .    i’m  so  sorry .  ”

“  aiiee !  ”

“  i’m  so  sorry  honey  ,    i  didn’t  mean  ...  ”

“  we  don’t  want  no  trouble !  ”

“  i’m  just  gon’  take  your  pistol .  ”

“  hey  ,    hey  ,    take  it  easy .    jesus  fucking  christ  ...  ”

“  don’t  you  take  that  name  in  vain !  ”

“  safety’s  on .  ”

“  who’s  the  girl ?  ”

“  jesus  ,    how  pregnant  is  she ?  ”

“  god  have  mercy  on  your  soul .  ”

“  i’m  not  going  to  hurt  you .  ”

“  you  need  helllll  ...    ”

“  mmm - hmm .  ”

“  that’s  all  you  got ?    ‘ mmm - hmm ? ’  ”

“  i  heard  you .   it’s  the  least  crazy  thing  you’ve  told  me  so  far .  ”

“  fair  enough .  ”

“  you  are  in  such  deep  shit .  ”

“  i  know .  ”

“  you  lied  to  me  ,    you  went  off  the  reservation .  ”

“  what  the  fuck  are  you  doing  ,    _____ ?  ”

“  i  fucked  up .  ”

“  don’t  fuck  yourself  any  deeper .    i’m  on  my  way .  ”

“  spill .  ”

“  okay  ,    number  one  ,    you  work  for  _____  ,    not  _____ .  ”

“  number  two  ,    you  don’t  interfere  with  ongoing  experiments .  ”

“  we  only  enter  the  equation  when  the  science  is  done  and  the  side  effects  need  mopping  up .  ”

“  shit  ,    you  don’t  even  know  if  this  is  an  experiment .  ”

“  and  number  three  ,    fuck  you .  ”

“  you  don’t  work  without  me .    we’re  partners  ,    you  stupid  motherfucker .  ”

“  sorr  ...    ”

“  don’t  say  you’re  sorry .    i  hate  that .  ”

“  you  want  the  silver  lining  to  your  shit  show ?  ”

“  you  don’t  suppose  you  brought  me  a  suit ?  ”

“  i  even  brought  you  a  tie .    hope  yellow’s  alright .  ”

“  you  called  it  a  ‘ vision ’ .    not  a  hallucination .  ”

“  it  felt  real .  ”

“  first  rule  in  the  playbook  is  don’t  get  high  on  your  own  product .  ”

“  what  about  brain  injury ?  ”

“  the  scan  must  have  been  corrupted .  ”

“  is  there  more  to  your  testimony ?  ”

“  yes  ,    of  course  ,    excuse  me .    i  was  just  ...    ”

“  could  we  see  those  brain  scans ?  ”

“  they’re  already  off  to  the  lab  ,    but  we  have  copies .  ”

“  evidence  ,    all  of  it .    this  had  become  a  matter  of  containment .  ”

“  we’d  love  to  meet  the  patient .  ”

“  the  little  guy  in  here  has  been  kicking  up  a  storm .  ”

“  is  that  a  tattoo ?  ”

“  a  globe .    no  ,    wheels .    ‘ wheels  within  wheels ’ .    that’s  biblical  ,    from  the  book  of  ...    ezekiel .  ”

“  you  can’t  have  him !    you  can’t .    i’ll  die  before  i’ll  let  you  kill  him .  ”

“  i  seen  the  messenger  and  i  know  i  ain’t  burdened  with  the  enemy .  ”

“  my  blood  is  true  ,    i’ve  sipped  at  the  fountain  and  borne  the  pain  and  marks  of  salvation .   ”

“  you  ain’t  gonna  take  my  baby  ,    you  ain’t  ...    ain’t  ...    ”

“  get  a  doctor !  ”

“  doctor !  ”

“  we  lost  her .    we  need  to  leave  ,    now .  ”

“  she’s  dead  ,    gone .    there  was  nothing  we  could  do .  ”    

“  minimal  footprint .  ”

“  i  realized  too  late  i  was  operating  above  my  security  clearance .  ”

“  are  you  sure  she  was  dead ?  ”

“  yeah  ,    case  closed .  ”

“  it’s  sad .  ”

“  still  ,    i  gotta  get  home .    i  said  i’d  be  there .  ”

“  you’re  a  good  dad  ...    you  always  take  care  of  your  girl .  ”

“  _____ !    you  home ?!  ”

“  you  work  for  us  now .  ”

“  we  didn’t  find  dick .  ”

“  there  we  go  ,    my  child .    every  last  drop  of  salvation .    your  children  are  waiting  for  you  in  heaven .  ”

“  god  does  not  pour  half  measures .  ”

“  the  storm  is  abating .    all  these  undeserved  blessings .  ”

“  he’s  still  not  answering .  ”

“  send  people  to  his  house .  ”

“  they’ve  been  feeding  _____  information .  ”

“  that’s  no  good .  ”

“  i’d  put  my  money  on  _____ .  ”

“  if  we  find  him  ,    i’ll  put  electrodes  on  _____ .  ”

“  how  many  bodies  we  looking  at ?  ”

“  hundreds .    it’ll  take  us  days  to  get  them  all  sorted .  ”

“  lot  of  these  local  corpses  show  signs  of  cyanide  poisoning .  ”

“  god  damn  this  guy’s  heavy  ...    ”

“  that  doesn’t  look  like  cyanide .  ”

“  yeah  ,    a  lot  of  them  got  creative  about  dying .  ”

“  took  a  lot  of  what  killed  her  to  get  the  job  done .  ”

“  last  name  sounds  like  a  crustacean  you’re  not  supposed  to  eat .  ”

“  how  did  you  know ?  ”

“  he  was  supposed  to  be  making  sure  they  didn’t  find  this  place .  ”

“  we  got  one  breathing  here !  ”

“  ‘ and  i  only  am  escaped  alone  to  tell  thee . ’  ”

“  is  that  from  wrath  of  khan ?  ”

“  it’s  actually  book  of  job  ,    by  way  of  moby  ...    ”

“  i  know  what  it  is  ,    you  don’t  have  to  try  and  impress  me .  ”

“  well  ,    holy  shit .  ”

“  his  eyes  are  all  pupil .    completely  catatonic .  ”

“  we  need  to  dig  in  his  head .    don’t  be  gentle .  ”

“  they  rarely  are .  ”

“  there’s  blood  on  the  walls .    looks  like  something  was  written  and  smeared  away .  ”

“  what  do  you  want  to  do ?  ”

“  actually  ,    no .    do  me  a  favor  and  find  his  corpse  ,    because  if  he’s  still  alive  ,    he’s  fucking  dangerous .  ”

“  where’s  _____ ?  ”

“  you’re  asking  the  wrong  question .  ”

“  i’ll  still  help  you  find  the  answer  ,    but  you’ll  need  to  trust  me .  ”

“  dead  ,    twice .  ”

“  how  about  you  just  tell  me  whatever  it  is  you  want  to  tell  me .  ”

“  it’s  not  surprising  religion  would  be  such  an  effective  delivery  mechanism .  ”

“  gods  communicating  with  men  ,    gods  dividing  themselves  into  components  that  men  could  understand .    a  trinity .  ”

“  in  the  name  of  the  father  ...    and  of  the  son  ...    and  of  the  holy  spirit .    amen .  ”

[spacebeyonce]

it’s wednesday and I’m writing so y’all know what the fuck that means

a snippet of baby time - the part three in progress to my fitted together series.

happy wip wednesday, hey hey hey

Riku has noticed that Kairi’s been very quiet, these past few days.

It doesn’t seem bad – it’s a thoughtful silence, like Kairi has retreated into herself to mull over something.

He’s trying not to worry about it.

But.

Riku’s been worrying ever since Kairi came back from her doctor’s appointment two days ago and didn’t immediately tell them how it went. All he knows is that nothing was wrong, but she had something she needed to think about for a little while.

And he knows Kairi wouldn’t lie – not about this. But why wouldn’t she tell them right away?

He could see that Sora was concerned, too, even though he’s been trying to hide it – but they have to trust her. She’ll tell them when she’s ready.

Until then, Riku has been keeping a close eye on her.

Now more than ever, Kairi has been stealing their clothes, wearing shirts and jackets that she practically swims in, tying the hems of shirts into a swift knot as they go to the studio for practice. She’s still tired, but it hasn’t stopped her classes, as far as he knows; Riku checks in on her when he has time, and she constantly reassures him that it’s fine, she’s okay – and she is. She is.

But during the quieter moments –

Sometimes, he catches her. Staring out the window, or biting at her thumb, an absent, far away look in her eyes. Like she was thinking. What was she thinking about? Was it something to worry about? When would he get to know?

Riku gets the answer almost a week after Kairi’s doctor appointment.

It was late in the day when he finds her in the kitchen, mulling over something he can’t see on the counter. The gold light of sunset dripped into the room, syrupy, hitting Kairi’s hair and turning it fiery copper.

“Kairi?”

She turns to him smoothly, core settled, hips centered – a rest position. Did he startle her?

“Are you okay?” He steps into the kitchen, and she smiles, humming a little.

“I’m fine. I was just – thinking.”

“You’ve been thinking a lot, the past few days.” He prods, cautious. “Mind letting me into your head a little?”

“I…”

Her fingers spread over whatever she was looking at on the counter – photos? Was it something Sora had taken?

“I’ve been waiting to get these to tell you…” She picks up one of the photos and hands one to him. “I…guess my being so tired was a little odd…”

Riku’s hand shook somewhat as he reached out to gingerly grab the photo, and he braced himself, preparing for what he was about to see –

The photo slipped from his numb fingers to the floor.

“Kairi.” He gasps, taking a shaky step forward. “Kairi, are you -? Really?”

She bites at her lips, but not even that can hide her smile – eventually she just gives in and beams at him, practically glowing. “You’re going to laugh at me.” Kairi says, teasing even though her voice was shaking. “It took me three months to notice. Isn’t that ridiculous.”

Three months? Three -?

Riku staggered closer. He placed his hands on Kairi’s cheeks, looking into her eyes, and then his hands dragged down, down, down – over her shoulders, down her arms, over the slopes of her hips – as his knees finally gave out and he sank to the floor.

“Kairi,” he mumbled, wrapping his arms around her hips and pulling her close. “Kairi, Kairi…thank you, thank you…”

Gentle, he rubs his face back and forth over her stomach, where – there, right under his cheek. Their baby was there.

It was happening. It was really happening.

Wow.

Riku’s vision blurs over as his eyes rapidly fill with tears, and he sniffles, pressing a kiss to Kairi’s stomach. “Kairi,” he mumbles as her fingers slide into his hair, “Kairi, I’m so happy. I’m so – I’m so, so happy. Oh my god.”

“Oh, you softie.” Kairi says, despite her own voice being thick with tears. “I thought you were going to tease me because it took me so long to find out.”

“Maybe later.” Riku presses another kiss to her stomach. “I’m too happy to make fun right now.”

“Small blessings.” Kairi sniffles quietly, combing her fingers through his hair. “Wait until Sora finds out.”

Snorting, Riku hides his smile in Kairi’s shirt. “He’s going to bawl.”

“Should we tell him when he gets home?”

Riku is quiet for a second, considering it. Then, he raises his head, gently placing his chin on the barely-there swell of Kairi’s stomach. “No.” He finally says. “Let’s tell him in a big way – let’s surprise him. Do you know that email I told you about a couple weeks ago?”

Kairi’s brow furrows in thought before her eyes light up with recollection. “I do! You wanna tell him then?”

“Yes. Did the doctor give you anything else besides the pictures?”

When Kairi nods, Riku grins. “Let’s plan it out before he gets home.”

[the-hopeless-haze]

Someone Whose Feelings You Spare (Being Alive Chapter 8)

A/N: Two things! I suggest listening to “Any Man of Mine” by Shania Twain before you read this because it will make a lot more sense - yes it’s cheesy but go with it lol. Second - forgive me for any courtroom inaccuracies! I love Rita though and I gotta give her some love in this series (even if she’s lowkey a bitch to the reader haha)!

Word Count: 3.5k

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

AO3 Link

The defense had gotten word. And it was your fault. Maybe it’s just how it goes, a domino effect: one person finds out and then another person finds out and then another... It wasn’t all the defense attorneys in Manhattan at once, thank God, but it was the one and only Rita Calhoun, and you were set to testify tomorrow. You’re in his office like a bat out of hell the second you get her message, complete with a picture of the two of you closer than what was appropriate outside the courthouse, most likely taken at an inopportune moment from Rita’s cellphone when you kissed him despite his half-hearted protests. Rafael wonders how much ibuprofen he can take before his liver starts sending him death threats as he stares at it, takes a deep breath, and then looks up at you.

“Well. This isn’t great.”

“Not great? This is terrible, Rafael. And it’s my fault. Now what’s going to happen?”

“I don’t know,” he sighs, leaning back in his chair.

You narrow your eyes at him. “Why don’t you seem as concerned about this as I am?”

“I’m concerned. Believe me, I’m concerned. But this was bound to happen, (y/n). Both of us knew that.”

“But I mean... if it comes between our careers and our relationship...” you say, anxiety bleeding into your tone as you fiddle with your watch. “What are we going to do? There’s no outcome where it’s fair if it comes to that.”

See why it’s easier to be alone? This would’ve never happened if you just let him be. But he swallows that down with two pills and a swig of coffee and doesn’t verbalize it.

“It’s not going to come to that,” Rafael says, even though he doesn’t quite believe it himself. Your worries weren’t completely unfounded, especially since he had no idea how Rita was going to play it in court. It could very well come to that. But you didn’t need to hear it from his mouth.

“What are you going to do, then?” you ask; your hands on your hips.

“I believe it’s what ‘we’ are going to do, cariño, since we’re both in this mess, together. Right?”

You shoot him a withering look before you start pacing the room. “You’re unbelievable. Why are you not stressed about this? You’ll get strung out about a bad headline from some no-name journalist or a slight glitch in a case but this? You’re making jokes? Do you not care if we have to end it? Is that it?”

“No, (y/n). Sit down. Of course I care, but I’m not a miracle worker or a mind reader.”

“So then call Rita! See if you can work something out with her.”

“Can you trust me?”

“I don’t know. Can I?"

“Jesus. Have a little faith in me, will you, mujer?”

You roll your eyes but you finally stop pacing and sit across from him. “What’s your plan, then?”

“I’m not calling Rita. No, hear me out,” he says, glaring at your exasperated facial expression. “If I go running to her with my tail between my legs, then that just proves there’s something going on, and while that picture is incriminating... it’s not exactly proof.”

“So what? You want me to commit perjury? Have every case I ever testified in be thrown out because I’m not only in a relationship with the attorney who prosecuted them, but because I’m a liar to boot?”

“Can you calm down and just listen to me? Hmm? Do you think you can do that?” Rafael says, trying not to let his irritation show. You are pissing him off a little, though. Hysterics aren’t going to solve anything, and surely you know that.

“Fine. But you’re not saying anything I like so far.”

Rafael sighs and rubs his face with hands. “Maybe because you haven’t exactly let me speak, cariño. Now, I’ve seen this situation happen before, albeit not exactly like this. One of the other district attorneys in Brooklyn was married to a doctor who testified in a lot of her cases. Not exactly the most ethical arrangement in the world, either, but it slid. Some defense attorneys tried to bring it up and discredit him, but both of them had a good reputation and nothing much ever came from that.”

"This is a lot different, though, Rafael."

He shrugs. "In a way. It'd be worse if you were a higher rank, but you've only been on the squad for a year and you're not looking for promotions, right?"

"Even if I was, I wouldn't get one any time soon. But if this gets out, though, your political career—“

Rafael chuckles. "What political career? That's been a lost cause ever since I charged Alex. He made sure of that."

"I just feel so bad, though, honey. You're always telling me to stop in case someone sees—“

"Don't. We're going to figure this out, okay?" he says, looking at you intently. "Okay?"

"Okay," you say, exhaling maybe for the first time since you stepped into his office. "I really am sorry, though. God, I feel so stupid."

"Well, don't. You're not. Like I said, this was bound to happen. Maybe it's better if we just get it over with," Rafael shrugs, then reaches for your hand across his desk. "We'll figure it out.”

But wouldn't it be so much easier if you didn't?

——--

Carisi is outside the courthouse with you, a comforting arm around your shoulder. Rafael bites back a comment. You don’t need any grief today.

“Hey, Barba,” Carisi says. “You doing okay?”

“I’m not the one going up on the stand,” he says, feeling a sense of pride when you leave Carisi’s arms for his own, even if that's not the most appropriate place for you to be right now.

“This is insane,” Carisi says, shaking his head. “I can't believe Calhoun's going to bring this up. I mean, it's not like you give us any breaks because you're with her; if anything you're harder on us—“

"Shush," Rafael snaps, shooting him a dirty look. "We don't know if that's what she's aiming for, although I do suppose we have a good idea. She wants to confuse the jury, muddy the waters. You want to be a lawyer? Get used to playing dirty. You'll do it, too. Are you doing okay?” he asks, turning to you.

“Been better. We have backup plans for our backup plans, depending on the route she goes with. Just gotta get through it and not fuck up."

"Hey, that's the spirit," Carisi says, grinning as he squeezes your shoulder. The three of you walk up the steps and try to settle into your respective seats in the courtroom. But you never make it on the witness stand, because Rita calls to approach before you can be sworn in. Rafael is thankful for little blessings. Much better that this came up in the judge's chambers than in open court.

"Your Honor, I don't think that the next witness should be called given her personal relationship with the prosecutor of this case,” Rita says. "I have photos--"

"No need. She's not lying," Rafael interjects, glaring at her.

"You're welcome for the heads-up, by the way," she says, smirking at him. "But again, given the fact that Mr. Barba is dating the witness... how can he be expected to be impartial, especially since she is going to accuse my client of attempting to assault her while she was undercover?"

"Don't you think this should have come up earlier, Mr. Barba?" the judge asks, crossing her arms. "Now, I'll allow this because I know she worked on this case - but tread lightly. I don't want to have to call a mistrial."

"Won't be necessary, Your Honor," he replies, leaving the bench and heading back to his seat. You're sworn in, and he runs through the questions he'd already asked you a million times - where were you, how did you meet the defendant, what the defendant did to you, how you and the squad tied him to the rest of the victims. You do a phenomenal job, and Rita can only object once successfully.

But when Rita's allowed to cross... she doesn't hold back.

"So, Detective... would you like to elaborate on your relationship with the prosecutor of this case?"

"Objection? Relevance?" Rafael asks.

"I'll make my point clear."

"I'll allow it, but let's not make this a showcase, Ms. Calhoun?" the judge says, nodding to you.

"We're dating," you say, keeping your voice level.

"Right... and let's say something happened to you. Like any significant other, he'd be upset, correct? Was he there the night in question? Did he see this happen to you?"

"He wasn't at the club, no, but he did come into the precinct later on in the night."

"Right. So he saw you after the incident. Don't you think, maybe, tensions were high, you had just gone undercover... and the two of you read into this more than you should have?"

"Did the whole precinct? Because it was my sergeant who decided to bring him in for questioning before Mr. Barba even looked at this case," you say matter-of-factly.

"Let me rephrase. Did he talk to you or my client first?"

"He spoke with me first."

"So, before he even meets my client, he talks to you, and he has that in the back of his mind the entire time. Now, anyone would want to take the side of their significant other, and you thought that you were luring out a potential rapist. Of course, he's going to take your word for it: he loves you, doesn't he? So, from the beginning of the case, his emotions already ruled over his decisions."

"Objection. Speculation," Rafael states as he stands up. Fucking Rita, using the 'L' word before he'd even thought about telling you that.

"Why don't you tell us, then, Mr. Barba?" Rita says coolly.

"Enough, you two," the judge sighs heavily. "Continue, Ms. Calhoun, but get to the point."

"I think I'm all set. No further questions."

"I'm calling for a short recess after that lovely display," the judge declares, rolling her eyes. "Court will return in 30 minutes."

You're staring at Rafael as you step down from the stand, and you make your way over to him. "How do you think that went?"

"It went. We'll see," he murmurs, shrugging. "You did a great job, cariño.”

"So did she. I mean, there’s reasonable doubt—“

But you’re cut off from that thought because Rita’s walking over, a smirk playing on her lips. “This is cute, hm?”

“What do you want, Rita?” Rafael asks, sighing exasperatedly. “It didn’t work out so well for you. She still got to testify.”

“We’ll see how long that lasts. How long has it been for you two, though?"

“It’s been a while.”

“It’s not a good look. You work far too closely with SVU to be sleeping with one of their detectives. Surely you should know that?”

“I’m standing right here, Rita,” you mutter through gritted teeth.

“Well, the adults are talking.”

About a million emotions flash through your eyes, and Rafael just hopes to God you don’t start crying because that will only make it worse, and he knows Rita didn’t mean it to be bitchy. Her tone was light enough to be joking, and she probably meant it more along the lines of ‘the lawyers are speaking’, but he knows you wouldn’t take it that way. Thankfully, though, you manage to bite back your tears and nod.

“Well, then, I’ll let them talk,” you snap and brush past Rita out of the courtroom.

“(Y/n), don’t—“ Rafael starts but you don’t look back, and he sighs, glaring at Rita. “Was that necessary?”

“She’s emotional, hm?” Rita says as he starts to put his things into his briefcase. “Though I find most SVU detectives to be. At least she's pretty.”

Rafael snickers. “Thanks for your approval, but I didn't need it."

"Apparently you don't think you need anyone's approval. Don't you think this is an iffy situation at best? How long were you going to try and get away with it? Really, I think you should be thanking me for forcing it to come to light. McCoy must not be happy."

"Mm, yes. Thank you for harassing my girlfriend on the stand, Rita," he says with a grimace as he closes his briefcase. "I don't bring up your personal life in this courtroom and believe me, if I wanted to, I could find something. I expect you to show me the same courtesy from now on."

"Fine. We can play nice,” she says, following him out of the room. “But this is the last time her testimony is going to be admissible when I'm in this courtroom. I don’t trust either of you to be objective, and neither should any judge. You got lucky today.”

"I rarely ever call her for this reason, Rita.”

“Good. Glad we’re on the same page. Just know, if I ever find any evidence that you were anything less than impartial—“

“You’ll make sure the jury hears about it. I get it.”

“Good. What are you going to do when you get married? I mean, you can’t expect for both of you to keep your jobs.”

“Who the hell said anything about marriage?” Rafael asks, trying not to let his tone become too defensive.

“I don’t know. Isn’t that the logical progression of things? You two seem pretty close."

In open court, she’d want to do everything to make it seem like he had the tightest bond imaginable with you. But now, there was no reason to keep harping on this point, and it makes him wonder and worry about how deep that soft spot for you actually went. "I know you'd love to see me transfer out of this district, but it's not happening," he snickers. "I'll see you in 20."

"Oh, hey, Barba. Warning: she's pissed," Carisi informs him as he walks up to the two of you.

"I'm not pissed. Asshole," you protest, jabbing Carisi playfully in the side, to which he holds his stomach like you really injured him. "Although that was uncalled for on her part. And it would've been nice if you defended me..."

"You walked away before I even had a chance to - which I did after you left, by the way."

"Right. So what happens now?"

"Come with me,” he says, ushering you out of the hallway with an arm around your shoulder. He finds an alcove in the stairs, somewhere he’d hide and do his deliberation on closing statements right before it was showtime.

“Not a good look for you, being alone with me like this, you know?"

“Don’t you know I don’t care? They can say what they want to say, but there’s nothing anywhere that says I can’t date you."

“But they’re going to question every warrant you give—“

He silences you with a kiss, pitting an arm around your shoulder. “You’re a detective. Not a sergeant. Olivia’s the one who asks me for warrants.”

“They could still say—“

“Let them talk."

“Okay,” you say, leaning against his chest. “I'm sorry I accused you of not caring. I know you do. You're meeting with McCoy later, right?"

"Yeah. Hopefully, it goes well."

"Hopefully," you grin. You lean up, kissing the side of his jaw. He chuckles as your hair tickles the skin of his neck.

“You did a good job, bebita. I’m proud of you.” He squeezes your knee and you turn to kiss him. It’s a languid kiss, long and soft, filled with yearning. He almost forgets where he is, all he can feel is you, his hands threading in your hair. He wants to take you right here, but it’s not a primal urge, it’s a soft one, where he needs to be in you to feel you.

"You want to be the one that gets us into a mess this time?" you tease. "Regardless of what happens, it is probably best if we keep our distance from now on, at least in the courthouse."

"Not the easiest task, mujer," he whispers, running his thumb over your lower lip before kissing you again.

——

What in the hell kind of music were you listening to? Some woman was singing about how she didn't know her last name, and you were belting along, just off-key enough for it to be grating. But he doesn't say anything, because you were in such a good mood, chopping vegetables in his kitchen, and he'd hate to burst your bubble after that week the two of you had.

You reach up for him, kissing him gently on the mouth before he puts his briefcase down, and then you're back to your work at the cutting board, swiveling your hips a little to the music. The song switches over to another country song, and you're saying, "This is what a woman wants," slightly out-of-time with the recording. If it was anyone else, again, Rafael would be the first to point out how irritating that is... but it's you, and he'll spare you the smartass-remarks.

The song isn't what he'd prefer to listen to, either, but you're cooking his freaking dinner, so he's let you be the DJ more often. It's obviously meant for comedic effect - the singer's elaborating on all the things her man should do for her, and how it's okay if she doesn't reciprocate. And you're coming over to him, wiggling your eyebrows and squeezing his upper arms as she sings "better show me a teasin'-squeezin'-pleasin' kinda time".

All Rafael can do is chuckle and kiss you. It was rare that you got this enthused, not to say you were melancholy most of the time, but you were like him in that it took a lot to get you excited or cheerful. Maybe you had reason to, today, as McCoy cleared the two of you and said it was fine to continue your relationship, but Olivia had to keep tabs on you and Rafael would be watched with a closer eye.

Just another headache. Maybe it was worth it, though, to have you dancing in his kitchen at 9 pm while you make enchiladas and make his apartment feel like a home.

"And when I cook his dinner and burn it black, he better say, mm, I like it like that," you sing, cackling with laughter as he raises an eyebrow.

"You better not start burning my food now, (y/n). Your reputation precedes you. I know you can cook."

But maybe that's all anyone wants - and leave it to Rafael to try and analyze a song meant for comedic value - but everyone just wants someone to spare their feelings, someone they can come home to after a long day and who won't add to the weight of the burden the world put on them, at least not when the going's already tough. And couldn't he have that with you?

"Come on, Rafi, this is where you come in," you giggle. "Let me hear you say 'yeah'..."

And even though he feels beyond stupid, he plays along, attempting to harmonize with the male vocalists that come in despite not knowing the song. Then, you're dancing to the rest of it, "shimmy, shake, make the earth quake" - and yes, you're the sexiest woman he can remember ever being in the presence of - but you're also beautiful, happy, and so fucking alive.

His breath catches in his throat and he realizes what that is - it's been so fucking long since it's happened - but he knows now, he loves you. Should he tell you? This moment won't stay perfect forever, and it's fading as quickly as the song fades out, but what if he doesn't actually love you? Shouldn't he spare you that heartache, if he should ever wake up from this spell you had him under? God, this was why he always hesitated: how do you know, and how do you know if it will last? Besides, what if you didn't love him back?

But he'd never had anyone fight to be with him like you did, and you'd told him multiple times you'd look into transferring to a different SVU if it came to that. And, come to think of it, he'd never fought to be with someone, either. Granted, this was a unique situation not posed by his ex-lovers, but either Rafael or them proved they wouldn't be willing to go through a struggle to stay together by ending the relationship for whatever reason.

Still, Rafael can't get himself to say the words, simple as they are, and the moment slips through his fingers like maybe you will one day as the song bleeds into another one. He's tuning it out, though, kissing you and trying to stop his mind from running away with all his fears and doubts.

How long would you wait for him to be ready, though?

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

Taglist: @caked-crusader​ @thatesqcrush​ @law-nerd105​ @arabellathorne​ @blackeyedangel9805​

Wanna be added to my tags? Let me know!

[leverage-ot3]

notable moments from The Mile High Job

leverage 1.08

Nate: We need a key card.

Eliot: And I hate to say it, but you know who we could really use --

Nate: Don't even say his name. I don't want it spoken aloud

eliot begrudgingly admitting they could use hardison because although they may bicker all the time, he knows to appreciate him

- - - - - 

[Leverage Headquarters]

(Hardison is watching a microwave, which dings)

Hardison: Yeah, buddy!

(he tries to pick up the pizza pocket but it is too hot and he drops it)

Hardison: Damn it!

(he blows on it and picks it up to eat it, then takes a watering can and heads out of the kitchen)

why do we (and parker and eliot) love this fucking idiot so damn much ???

- - - - - 

(Hardison walks through the offices watering plants)

he’s such a nester + he’s probably watering parker’s plant too which is adorable

- - - - - 

Eliot: All right.

(open the door to the hall to find Parker waiting)

Parker: So, what are we waiting for?

Eliot: How does she do this?

Nate: I don't even ask anymore.

Hardison: Don't bother with the stairs. I got you a ride down.

(elevator dings and they enter)

we love to see parker defying all laws of physics and logic and the team being baffled by it e v e r y time

- - - - - 

(Nate, Parker and Eliot run into the lobby, headed for the door)

Nate: No, it’s right behind us, it’s right behind us!

(guards put their hands on their guns)

Parker: It’s furry, it’s big, it’s chasing us, get down now!

(they grab Sophie on the way out the door, leaving the guards confused)

Nate: Come on, we need to get to the airport, now!

that’s actually a really clever way to escape a situation ??? it was very effective to distract the guards ???

- - - - - 

Hardison: What I.D.s have you got on you?

[LAX Airport]

Nate: Let's see...

(team begins looking through their pockets)

Nate: We got, Peter Davison, Sylvester McCoy, and I have a Tom Baker. Yeah.

Sophie: Ooh, yeah, I have a Baker. Sarah Jane.

[Leverage Headquarters]

Hardison: Perfect. I now pronounce you man and wife. (typing on keyboard) Now go on and kiss that bride.

[LAX Airport]

(Sophie hands Nate a ring that he places on her finger)

hardison bases their ids on doctor who characters, what a fucking nerd

also, we gonna talk about how sophie carries a bunch of different wedding rings with her at all times or ???

- - - - - 

Sophie: How did you both know there'd be an extra uniform in the bag?

Nate: Everyone knows flight attendants are required to carry extra uniforms in case they get called to work unexpectedly.

Eliot: Or if something happens to the one that they're already wearing.

Sophie: How does "everyone" know that?

Nate: Worked airport security.

Eliot: Slept with a flight attendant

sophie being exhausted + eliot never mentioned the gender of the flight attendant so let my bi heart dream okay

- - - - - 

(security guard opens Nate’s luggage to find many BSDM items inside. Nate gives Sophie a look)

Sophie: What? We needed luggage. Lost and found.

Nate: You didn't check the bag first?

Sophie: We were in a bit of a hurry. (to guard) Yeah. Cuffs are his. Whip's mine. (slaps Nate’s butt) Second honeymoon.

Eliot (picking up his bag): Idiots.

me watching this scene: part horrified part secondhand embarrassed 

- - - - - 

Hardison (on computer): Let's see what we can learn about Nathan Ford today. Online poker? Online chess? Sudoku. Crossword. What... Damn. Somebody needs to get laid.

y i k e s

- - - - - 

[Coach]

(Parker on P.A. while another stewardess demonstrates)

Parker: Place the mask over your mouth and nose and breathe normally. In the event of a water landing, your seat cushion can be used as a flotation device. But let's face it, if this thing goes down in the water, more than likely the impact will kill you. 

(Eliot grabs the bridge of his nose while the other passengers get alarmed)

Parker: Please take a moment to locate the nearest emergency exits, because if this plane's on fire, you're gonna want to get out quick. Jet fuel burns at over 1,000 degrees. That's hot, folks.

Eliot: All right, Nate. We're here. Now what?

eliot looks exhausted like 300 different times during this episode

+ bless the other flight attendant that just carried on with the crazy white chick being crazy over the speaker 

- - - - - 

poor eliot with the guy sleeping on him, he’s so exhausted already lmao

- - - - - 

Steve: Nothing. It’s just... I could've sworn I saw a maintenance guy get in that elevator.

Hardison: A- A maintenance guy? Wow. Real nice. I bet you think we all look alike.

Steve: That's not what I meant.

Hardison: You know what -- If I have to go to one more of those damn sensitivity seminars, I know who I’m blaming.

Steve: No, no, no.

Hardison: I know who I’m blaming.

Steve: It's not what I meant.

Hardison: I blame you! You! (walks away)

hardison using societal tendencies of racism is iconic every (every) time

- - - - - 

(Eliot gets up and begins going through luggage in the overhead racks. One of the passengers watches him suspiciously)

Eliot (to passenger): Can I help you with something? Watch the movie.

what would you even do in this situation ???

- - - - - 

Marissa: I know. It's just -- It's like a placebo effect. It's not really working, but it makes you feel better anyway.

Parker: Yeah? So, when's that supposed to kick in? (she moves forward) Look. Flying isn't really all that scary when you think about it. I mean, there are a lot more likely ways to die than on a plane. Car crash, house fire, electrocution, drowning, autoerotic asphyxiation. I mean, the fact is, death haunts us every day. No matter where we are.

(Parker smiles and moves away)

Y I K E S

- - - - - 

Hardison: You kidding? Did you get the new expansion pack? Woman, I was up all night. Now, look, I mean “Burning Crusade" was great, but this new one is mind-blowing.

Nate: Hardison…

[First Class]

Nate: …you bailed on the job because you were up all night playing a game?

[Genogrow Break Room]

(Hardison turns aside and opens a cabinet door to hide his face)

Hardison: First off, "game" is hardly adequate, okay

hardison is DONE with them not taking his “games” seriously ,,, also LMFAO that’s why he was late 

- - - - - 

Hardison (opens door): The meeting's starting, sir. (closes door)

Haldeman: What meeting? (sighs and puts on his jacket)

that is such an effective tactic tho ???

- - - - - 

Parker: Hatbox full of Euros, pouch of uncut diamonds, and a stolen Stradivarius. Now, I’ve never lifted one of those.

Nate: Parker..

let! her! steal! it!

- - - - - 

Eliot: Ms. Devins, those payments were not made in error. They were bribes. He was trying to pay off the researchers so they would not testify.

Marissa: What are you talking about? What the hell is going on here?

(Parker sits down next to Marissa)

Parker: The guy in 1D wants to kill you. Ginger ale?

Eliot: Just – sh-she--

that poor lady is NOT having a good time

also eliot looks sO DONE WITH PARKER LMFAO

- - - - - 

Eliot: Erlick's a pro. He had a ceramic knife. If anything was going down, he'd sniff 'em out when he saw them coming.

Nate: How would they do it?

Eliot: Easiest way? Take 'em out in transit.

Sophie: You mean bring down the plane they're on?

(everyone looks at her pointedly)

Sophie: You mean bring down the plane we're on?

Nate: Yeah

that’s interesting meta to know but we hate to see it

- - - - - 

Nate: Okay, Parker, I -- Parker, I need you – (to Eliot) All right, we got to talk to Erlick now.

[Plane Bathroom]

(Dan is still unconscious on the toilet as Eliot and Nate come in)

Nate: Geez!

Eliot (patting Dan on the face): Hey!

(Dan does not stir, Eliot sighs)

Eliot: When I knock people out, they tend to stay knocked out.

Nate: Hey!

(Nate taps the guy on the face)

Nate: Luggage tags.

(they search Dan’s clothes and take his luggage tags. Eliot grabs the ceramic knife before they leave the bathroom)

eliot doesn’t fuck around lmao

also he did the flippy thing with the knife

- - - - - 

Hardison: Parker, the device you found -- is it anywhere near an orange box?

Parker: Yeah.

[Haldeman’s Office]

Hardison: Oh, god. They tapped into the black box.

[Cargo Hold]

Parker: No, no, it's not black. It's orange.

[Haldeman’s Office]

Hardison: Yeah, the black boxes, they're orange.

[Cargo Hold]

Hardison: Makes them easier to find in the debris.

Parker: Oh. Oh…

[Haldeman’s Office]

Hardison: They've hacked into the flight's computer, which means they have access to the system, which means they can spoof the black-Box data all at the same time.

[Cargo Hold]

Parker: Crash the plane without anyone knowing it was sabotaged.

[Haldeman’s Office]

Hardison: Exactly

that’s terrifying

- - - - - 

Nate: Listen to me!

[Haldeman’s Office]

Nate: You can do this! I trust you!

(Hardison looking very unsure of himself)

[Cockpit]

Nate: No matter how many times you goof off or screw up, you always come through in the clutch.

[Haldeman’s Office]

Nate: You're the only guy I can count on in a situation like this.

Hardison (cracks his neck): You know what? I-I-you... You're right. 

You're right. I got this.

[Cockpit]

Nate: Yes! Yes! Yes, you can!

Hardison: You're right. You're -- I'm the man.

[Cargo Hold]

Hardison: I'm the man. I got this. I'm gonna do this.

hardison is amazing and they need to appreciate him more

- - - - - 

[First Class]

(Nate and Eliot stumble into seats and belt up)

Nate: Sophie?

[Coach]

Sophie: Yes?

[First Class]

Nate: You okay?

[Coach]

Sophie: Yeah. You?

[First Class]

Nate: Ask me again in 10 minutes.

[Coach]

Sophie: You're gonna remember this one, aren't you?

[First Class]

Nate: Oh yeah.

everyone else on the comms: ,,, y’all have to flirt right this second ???

- - - - - 

[Haldeman’s Office]

(Hardison watching footage on the Internet of the plane landing)

Announcer (on monitor): …emergency landing on the seven mile bridge…

Hardison: Whoa! (gets up and dances) Baby! Unh! Age of the geek! Smooth! Too smooth! Lord, I was so scared, I wanted to cry, call my mama. Y'all cool? Y’all cool?

Nate: Yes, cool.

Hardison: Family. All right.

hardison is baby + HE CALLED THEM HIS FAMILY !!!

[starbuckie]

Some Quarantine Lovin’ Epilogue: Always Be Together

Marvel Highschool! AU

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Warnings: Obscene amounts of fluff, kissing, swearing, kinda a lot of angst

Description: Bucky Barnes is absolutely, no doubt about it, in love with Y/N L/N. He’s loved her since the day he laid eyes on her in the third grade. He loved her when he had his own girlfriend, and when he was barely friends with her for a whole summer. And of course, in his freshman year, they are now stuck together. In a house. During a worldwide quarantine. This should be fun.

Words: 2,943 words

A/N: Well, we’re at the end! Thank you so much to everyone who’s been following this series, as it’s my first fic, and is so special to me. Natasha’s story is also very personal, as I’m still trying to figure out how to tell my parents that I’m bisexual, and they’re kind of closed off to the LGBT+ community and can only hope for what I wrote for Natasha. As always, thank you to my badass beta @transparentfestivaltiger​ and I really hope you’ve enjoyed this journey with me, and that you all continue to stay safe and healthy. Love you <3

When the shelter in place order was lifted from New York, life went by so fast. Jobs slowly started to open up again, people picking up the pieces of their lives that had broken during quarantine. The cure still hadn’t been found yet, but hope still stayed strong within everyone’s heart. It had taken much longer for scientists and doctors to find the curative to the virus, but the day it was announced was one to remember. Happy cheers could be heard everywhere around Brooklyn, tears rushing down everyone’s faces, for those who had previously lost their loved ones to the virus and to new beginnings. The community all came together and they all knew they could be stronger coming out of the worldwide pandemic. 

The rest of high school went by fairly slowly, considering they had spent nearly a whole semester online. Everyone had trouble recovering from the effects of quarantine, but it got easier as they went along. Bucky and Becca both became part of the Rogers family easily, the endless stream of love and happiness radiating them all the time. Mrs. Rogers had been a motherly figure to him all his life, aspects of her reminding him of his own ma, and he was brothers with Steve, which was pretty great in his opinion. 

By the end of high school, Natasha had come out to her parents, which was something both of them tried their hardest to understand. The redhead was shocked when they told her that they should have known and that they were sorry if they had ever made her feel unloved or left out, a reaction she could have only dreamed of. Both of her parents were still trying to understand her and her needs to feel safe and comfortable, and though it wasn’t perfect, Natasha couldn’t be more grateful that her parents were trying. 

Throughout the rest of high school, the “Golden Boy Trio”, as the girls liked to call them, continued playing baseball together, all three of them getting scholarships in their junior year. Eventually, Sam was the only one who accepted his scholarship, as the two other boys had already planned what they wanted for their futures. 

The sweet couple, however, continued to grow together, both as people and a pair, falling deeper and deeper in love with each other every day. Yeah, that was something that was never-ending, no matter the circumstance. Y/N and Bucky went around the school known as the high school sweethearts, the two students who were irrevocably and completely infatuated with each other, and that was obviously fine with them.

By the time the end of their senior year rolled around, Steve was already dead set on joining the U.S. Army, something both of his parents were proud of, though terrified as hell for as well. Wanda and Sam were both headed for sunny California, her wanting to major in psychology and him on a full-ride baseball scholarship to UCLA. Natasha had been offered a chance to study under a fashion designer in France, so she ended up leaving just mere weeks after graduation, bringing lots of tears and promises to talk whenever she could. Bucky and Y/N though, they were staying in their home state of New York, both of them on scholarships to Columbia and NYU. After all, Bucky needed to look after Becca, who was five years old by then but already had an extreme attitude and a tendency to be very, very, clingy. Joseph and Sarah Rogers loved her even more for that.

Bucky and Y/N’s dorms weren’t far from each other, and they were happy that their relationship wasn’t long-distance. Study dates at coffee shops became frequent, and their love for each other only growing. Around their junior year of college, the couple was already having talks about getting married soon after their graduation. Both of them were planning on continuing for their masters at their respective schools, but after nearly six years of their relationship, they both knew that they wanted to be together for the rest of their lives. 

Kids had thoroughly been discussed though. After taking care of Becca since he was thirteen, he wasn’t rushing to have any of his own any time soon, and he made it clear that he wanted to wait until after college. After all, they hadn’t even graduated yet and still had five more years of their education left before Y/N went off to her internship. 

Oh, how quickly the tables had turned.

Y/N had managed to get pregnant at the very beginning of their final year as undergrads. She had freaked out, not knowing if Bucky would leave her, not knowing how the fuck it had happened, and what she would do with the baby. She had finally decided to keep it a secret for a few weeks, at least until she found out how to tell her boyfriend, but after she started to refuse drinks and get sick more often, Bucky grew suspicious. Now, James Barnes was a smart man. He had remembered when he was a teen and his mama was sick when she was pregnant with Becca, so naturally, he questioned his girlfriend. 

“Are you pregnant, Y/N?” Bucky asked her quietly. He didn’t seem mad, but his tone made it certain that he was dead serious. Taking a shaky breath and trying to hold back her tears for her own sake, she nodded her head and grasped his hands.

“Yes, James.” She sighed. “I’m pregnant. And,” Y/N took a deep breath, “I’m going to keep it.” Silence was all that surrounded the room. Normally, silence with the two of them was soft, it was comfortable, like a blanket of comfort and relaxation. But this was high-strung tension, uncertainty mixed with unsaid awkwardness. Bucky’s heavy sigh was all that was heard, and Y/N let go of his hands as he got up and left the room.

Y/N was in shock. Hand covering her mouth, her strangled sobs echoed back to her throughout the dorm. He’d surely tell her parents. Or would he want to even do anything with her? She was still in school, and she had to go to med school the next year. Her parents would never support this. God, what mess had she gotten herself into?

No more than fifteen minutes later, Bucky broke in through the front door, panting and nearly wheezing with the loss of air he had. However, he saw Y/N’s red, puffy eyes with her clearly wet cheeks and saw where he went wrong.

“I thought -hic- you left, Bucky.” He instantly wrapped his arms around his shaking girlfriend, his eyes filling with tears after realizing that he had hurt her. The one girl that meant the most to him in life, that he loved with his entire heart, and he’d been the one to make her cry.

“Doll, no, no, I promise you, I’m not going to leave you.” Bucky lowered the two of them to a laying down position on the couch, legs intertwined and chests pulled together. “I will never, ever leave you, and we’ll find our way through this together.”

Y/N rubbed at her eyes, relief filling her body at his words until she felt a sharp object poking into her hip. “Buck, what’s in your pocket?”

She noticed the sharp intake of breath he took. She noticed that he was fidgeting with the object in his pocket. She noticed that he was breathing rapidly. She noticed him getting on the floor, kneeling with an open box in his hand.

“Y/N, you’re my best friend. You have been for fourteen goddamn years, and you have seen me everywhere. My highs, my lows, when I was drunk off my ass puking in my bathroom and giving a speech at our high school graduation. You of all people know that I am a very organized person, but trust me, this is the one time you will see me unprepared. But, our lives have always been a little unconventional, haven’t they? We had our first kiss in the middle of a global pandemic because I was too scared to tell you that I liked you anytime in the six years before that. Our first time together was when we were eighteen at the Time Hotel in Times Square and we went in our pajamas to McDonald’s right after. And now we’re going to have a baby. I already know you’re going to be an amazing mother, and there’s no better time to do this than now.” Scooting closer to Y/N, he stared into her eyes, still red-rimmed from the crying, but a huge dopey smile plastered on her face. “I asked your parents for your hand last week and they said yes, so we have their blessing. Y/N L/N, the love of my life, will you please make me the happiest man in the world and marry me?”

Y/N nodded enthusiastically and threw herself into his arms. “Of course I’ll marry you, Bucky.” Bucky was crying at this point but he didn’t even try to wipe them away as he slipped the silver band onto her finger. She grasped his face in her cold hands and kissed him feverishly. “I love you, James.”

Smiling like a fool in love, which he was, he placed one last lingering kiss to her lips. “I love you too, Y/N.” Moving his hand down to her stomach, which hadn’t started showing, he rubbed it soothingly. “And I already love this little one too. How long have you known, baby?”

Y/N covered his hand with her own and let out a watery smile. “Three weeks. I didn’t know how to tell you, and I’m sorry I didn’t earlier.”

“No, no, no, baby, you have nothing to feel sorry for. I can understand why you felt scared, and I’m going to be honest, I am too. But we’ve gotten through so much together, what’s a little human compared to us?” Bucky grinned wider at hearing her sniffly giggle and he sat her on his lap on the wood floor of her NYU dorm.

“So who’s going to be the one to tell my mom and dad that you knocked me up and proposed to me?” His eyes widened and she laughed harder at the expression on his face. Sure, he didn’t want to face the wrath of her parents, but if it made Y/N happy, he’d do it with no hesitation at all.

The pregnancy was difficult during school. Especially because they went to different schools, Y/N struggled with being alone so much that she eventually moved back into her house with her parents. Bucky would always show up once a day when he knew that her courses were done, whether he could only stay a few minutes or the night, and talk to the baby. Though he'd previously said that he didn’t want kids until he was done with college, he’d been nothing but absolutely amazing and protective since finding out Y/N was pregnant. A bit too protective though. 

Three weeks before she was due, which was also right before their graduation, the couple started to get into more and more heated arguments. Bucky insisted that she needed to stay home and do absolutely nothing, but Y/N still had more finals she needed to take at school. Her stress from both hormones and classes got to her, and finally, she talked to her teachers, asking to just make the finals all in one day so she could go home earlier and not wait it out. It took some convincing, but they finally agreed and passed all her finals with flying colors, which made her cry with happiness.

Two days before graduation, little Winnie Sarah Barnes was born. After six hours of pain and screaming, Winnie came into the world happy as a clam. Y/N’s parents, Mr. and Mrs. Rogers, Becca, and Natasha all came to support the happy couple. Wanda, Sam, and Steve couldn’t join this momentous occasion with them, but all three sent letters and called many, many times to see the precious baby.

The next four years of college went by fast with Winnie in the family. Y/N and Bucky finally got married, something everybody was able to attend. Steve had come back from his first tour by then to be the best man and Natasha as the maid of honor. It was very small, simple but elegant, and the new Barnes couple could not be any happier with how one of the happiest nights of their life went. Y/N graduated NYU at twenty-six with a Doctor of Medicine and applied for an internship at NYU Langone Medical Center while Bucky got offered a job as the creative writing teacher at the high school they went to. “Full circle, huh, baby?” He’d jokingly said to her after he got the email. And a full circle it was indeed.

2033

“Buck, we need to bring him. He really, really doesn’t wanna stay with MJ tonight.” Y/N ran around their shared Brooklyn apartment frantically, her crying son in her arms. Bucky and Y/N’s family was in absolute chaos. Bucky had come back from the high school late, Y/N nearly forgot to pick up Winnie from after school care, and their four-month-old son, Steve, did not want to be taken care of by the babysitter, MJ. Of course, their family was normally in disarray, with Y/N’s shifts at the hospital and Bucky’s demanding students, but tonight was their ten-year high school reunion, and between the four in their family, it was a disaster.

“Mommy, I can hold Stevie, you can go get dressed,” Winnie said in a quiet, sweet voice. Placing a delicate kiss on her head, Y/N thanked her and scurried off to get ready. Bucky was pretty prepared, looking handsome as always in his button-down blue shirt and black slacks, short brown hair combed neatly. “You look nice, daddy.” His daughter said while sitting on the couch next to him. He was about to thank her as she started speaking again, “For once.” 

Crinkling his nose playfully and gasping in mock offense, he took Steve from her arms and tickled her sides, breaking her into peals of giggles. “Do I not look nice all the time, sweetheart? I can’t believe my own baby daughter doesn’t think I’m handsome.” Y/N heard the laughter from the hallway as she headed towards the living room. 

“Well, my beautiful, beautiful husband, I think you look very handsome, like you always do.” Y/N quipped from the entrance. Bucky and Winnie turned their heads towards her, and both of their eyes widened. Letting out a low whistle, her husband’s eyes roamed her body in the appealing red dress and black heels. 

“Damn, hot mama,” Bucky readjusted Steve in his left arm and slid the other one to cheekily squeeze Y/N’s ass, “you look gorgeous.” Even after fourteen years of their relationship, Y/N couldn’t take one compliment, and heated up under her husband’s lustful gaze. 

“Mommy! Mommy! I wanna look pretty too, can I wear your heels later?” Laughing, Y/N picked Winnie up and spun her around quickly before pulling her into a crushing hug. “Ugh, mama, you’re going to break my spine.” 

Both Bucky and Y/N shared confused glances at their daughter’s sudden sass. “Where did you learn to get an attitude like that, missy?” Bucky asked.

“Auntie Becca, she always sasses the boys at her school, she says. She always tells me to ‘screw them over and have some fun with my ladies’.” Y/N nearly wheezed with how hard she was laughing, knowing of fifteen-year-old Becca’s sass. Bucky on the other hand was absolutely appalled that his younger sister was teaching his children these things. 

“Of course your Auntie Becca sasses the boys, she can’t keep her damn mouth shut to save her own life.” Bucky grumbled, making Y/N peck his cheek and grab his hand. 

“I called my mom, she says she and my dad can take the kids tonight, thank God.” Swatting his butt, she scooped Winnie up in her arms and started to make her way to the door. “You two are going to stay with Grandma and Grandpa tonight, does that sound good?” The little girl in her arms nodded excitedly, ready to be spoiled by her grandparents. 

After Bucky and Y/N dropped their kids off at her parent’s house, they rode to their old high school in comfortable silence, just the radio playing Bucky’s old Spotify playlists. 

“We’re going back to the place where we started.” Bucky said all of a sudden. Y/N shifted  in her seat to look at his with a raised eyebrow. 

“We met in third grade, baby, do you not remember that?”

Sighing, he took her hand in his and rubbed small circles on the back of her palm. “Well, I mean where we started. Like in a relationship, when we were sent home for quarantine, when I kissed you in your ma’s kitchen, and I took you on a date to Prospect Park.” Looking into each other’s eyes, the couple smiled. “We’ve come a long way since then, haven’t we?”

Leaning over to kiss him, short and sweet, she replied, “Yeah, yeah we have.”

Riding the rest of the way in their blissful bubble of happiness, the couple reminisced about their freshman year of high school, all where their quarantine love had started. 

TAGLIST 

@transparentfestivaltiger @barnesjamcs @kitkatd7 @adorkably

[lokilickedme]

Well today was a shitshow.  Sit down and lemme tell you a little story about trusting your gut when someone seems too fakey-nice to be real.

Actually you know what? - it’s a long story so let me just give you a quick rundown.

(under the cut because my quick rundown ended up slightly longer than “quick” - this is a massive vent with trigger warnings for dog attack, injured children, animal bites, police, and hospitals.  Yeah, it’s been a goddamn HELL of a day)

Neighbors moved into the house next door maybe a year ago (it’s the house that inspired Hammer Of The Gods, just as an interesting side point) and the mom has always been one of those chirpy sunshiny waving-over-the-back-fence “call me anytime, I’ll bake cookies!” good neighbor types that make you feel a little bit unsettled, like, nobody can be that cheery and be for real, you know what I mean?  But we’ve never seen any dark side peeking out so we’ve always just accepted it at face value and waved back and gone about our business, happy in the belief that we got a real good neighbor this time.

So - neighbor lady has this rotten little shit of a dog that we have hated since day one.  We’re not dog haters, this is just a hellspawn beast that even Steve Irwin would want to euthanize.  It barks constantly (sometimes all night), and it gets out of their yard and comes into ours to either 1) take a shit in Little’s sandpit, or 2) snarl and chase Little while he screams and cries.  The kid is scared to go in his own back yard to play because he’s afraid of this shit dog even seeing him.

Neighbor knows this, has seen it happen, and always blows it off with a chirpy “Oh he just likes to roughhouse and play rough, you’ll be fine, he won’t hurt you!”

Yeah, no.  You don’t let your animal come into MY yard and terrorize MY children.  I have chased that beast off with rocks, the water hose, my own shoe more than once, and I stg if it hadn’t run off before I got back with the baseball bat there was one time when I likely would have killed the damn thing.  My child is terrified of it and it goes out of its way to come onto our property to snarl at him and chase him.  I’m not cool with that.  But we haven’t complained because we’re scared to death of making enemies of this neighbor.  Trust me, after the last people who lived in that house, we’re very anxious to stay friends with the ones in there now.  So we did the good neighbor thing and kept the peace by keeping our mouths shut.

Well.  Fast forward to tonight, after a year of putting up with that yappy vicious asshole.  Little is out in the front yard, playing right in front of the front door of our house.  He’s nowhere near their house or the fenceline to their yard, you can’t even see their front door from where he is.  Two steps and he would be inside our house, that’s where he’s at.  Absolutely ten THOUSAND percent nowhere near them or their house or their dog.  Neighbor opens her front door to leave and this shithead comes tearing out of their house on a straight beeline for Little.  It has to go all the way to the end of their front yard and around the end of the fence to even get into our yard, which means it had full intention of coming over here from the minute it got out of their house.  And it’s snarling and barking the whole way, which scares the everloving shit out of Little, because he’s been chased by this hellhound countless times and he knows what’s coming.  He immediately starts screaming and loses his damn mind to the point where he can’t think straight enough to turn around and run into the house, and he starts running in circles because, yeah, he’s a complete idiot when he’s scared, like most 8 year olds when being attacked by vicious animals.  And this stupid dog is right behind him, snarling and barking like a rabid goddamn demon, and Little is screaming that horrified deep-chest kind of scream that stops mothers’ hearts.

I hear it all the way at the far end of the house, over the loud music I have playing.  I’d already heard the dog but had assumed it was just barking through the fence like it always does.  But that scream - god, I hate that scream.  That scream is like a nightmare, you don’t want to hear it while you’re awake, ever.

So I run through the house and tear out onto the porch to see this dog straight up attacking my child.  My child is trying to run but the dog has hold of the back of the calf of his left leg, and Little is practically dragging the thing and screaming his lungs out, but it won’t let him go.  I slam the screen door open and scream BABY GET IN THE HOUSE!!!!! and bam, his brain kicks back in and he heads for me.  I grab him and he’s trembling so hard I thought he was having a seizure.

Now comes the kicker.  The neighbor lady is standing at the end of the fence, watching all this happen.  She yells for the dog to come to her, but that’s all she does.

Now for an even bigger kicker.  The teenage daughter is actually standing less than two feet away from Little and the dog when I get there, meaning she followed the dog into the yard but stood there and didn’t stop it when it started attacking him.  She was simply standing there.  I mean, I can sort of understand where she’s coming from on this, because she’s afraid of the damn dog herself.  But if I were watching my dog attack a small child, you better bet your ass and everything attached to it that I would be putting myself between that dog and that child - or at the very least kicking the dog or trying to grab it by the collar, anything to protect the child.  At least make a fucking effort.

Nope.  She stood there.  In my yard.  Watching her dog attempt to maul my child.  While the mother watched as well, from the safety of the end of the fenceline, while making one feeble attempt to yell for the dog to come.

Fuck them both.

So at this point I’ve grabbed Little and slammed the screen shut to keep the dog away, and the girl says “I’m so sorry!” and then just stands there looking at me like she’s expecting me to say it’s okay.  I’m inspecting my still-screaming child and I find that his leg is bleeding and has fucking HOLES IN IT.  I look through the screen at the teenager and say “IT BIT HIM!!!”

She just stands there.  She obviously doesn’t know what to do, she keeps looking over at her mother.  The mother never steps foot into the yard.  Not a damn step.

Again, fuck her.  I can forgive the teenager...but not the adult.

So my husband finally comes in from the back - up to this point he’s assumed the kids were just playing noisy and the neighbor’s dog was being a yappy little bitch from its own back yard like usual, but when I got Little into the house he finally realized those screams were serious and came running.  I told him the dog bit Little in our yard, and he runs outside but the dog and both women are gone.  He comes back in, confused about what’s happening, and I look him straight in the eye and say “That dog bit our kid, you do something.”

To his credit he snaps to action and runs out, heading straight over to the neighbors’ house to ask what the hell just happened.  She’s trying to get in her car and leave in a hurry, so he stops her and she starts laughing and saying how the dog loves to “roughhouse” and she wished Little wasn’t scared of him so they could play.  And husband, still not knowing what’s going on, has no choice but to let the woman get in her car and leave, but he asks her if the dog is current on its rabies shots and she says something to the effect of “I think so, we lost his tag” (husband was confused by the whole situation, bless him he’s no good at all in a crisis...that’s why he has me) and then she says she has to go and quickly gets the fuck out of Dodge.

When husband comes back in I tell him what I saw.  Little recovers his wits enough to start talking and tells us everything.  I clean the wound and hold him while we try to figure out what to do.  ER?  God, we were just in there a month ago when my eyeball exploded, we just got the bill for it a few days ago and have no idea how we’re going to pay it.  We’re not even sure they’ll see us again with that visit still on the books unless we pay them something on arrival.  But we’re going anyway, because this is our kid and we know we at the very least need to get this situation documented by someone official and make sure the bite doesn’t need care beyond what I can provide...but I need to know what to tell the ER crew when they ask if the dog has had its shots.  I start texting the neighbor, I send her pictures of the bite so she knows this is serious and she needs to work with me, I ask for information on the dog’s vaccine status, and she...straight up ignores me.  I text her again, making it clear that I need her to answer me ASAP because we’re likely going to the hospital and if I can’t tell them what they need to know, they’re going to be calling her.

A half hour goes by, and in the meantime I’m calling TeleHealth and googling shit as fast as I can, waiting for this woman to reply so we know what to do next, and when she finally responds she -

REFUSES TO GIVE ME ANY INFORMATION.

Yeah.

Two tries later - all I want is to know if the dog has had its shots, I even tell her she can just text me a picture of the dog’s collar tags or let me take a picture of its vaccine papers - and she comes back with “I don’t have any papers and his collar broke so the tags were lost.”

I realize at this point that there’s a reason why she won’t give me an answer and keeps evading.  I text her again and say “Ticia I need you to tell me right now HAS THAT DOG HAD ITS SHOTS”

She waits a while, then replies with “My friend does the vaccines for me.”  So I ask for the “friends” name and phone number so the hospital can call and get the information they need from them.  She makes me wait a long time again, after which she finally comes back with “Tell the doctor to call me and I’ll tell him what he needs to know.”

Okay, this is pure bullshit now.  One more try.  “IS THAT DOG VACCINATED OR NOT, YES OR NO?”

She finally replies one last time, with just a single name, “Hubbs”.

I google it - it’s a vet clinic, Hubbs is the doctor.  Wait, I thought she said her “friend” does it and there are no papers...?  So I call the vet clinic, but by this time it’s after hours and they’re closed and my only option is to leave a message and beg them to call me first thing in the morning.  Now I know why she waited so long in between replies...she was watching the clock.  I give husband a quick rundown of what’s been happening and he says “That’s it, I’m calling her.”

He calls her.  She doesn’t answer.

By this time I’m starting to cry and we’re both getting frantic.  I get the kiddo calmed down enough to leave the room and I call my mother - yeah, I know, I’m supposed to be on Active Shun status with her, but this is an emergency and she has experience in the legal field (I do too, but her know-how is far more recent than mine) and there’s no way in hell she would refuse to help her grandbaby.  She’s also the only level head I can think of at the moment.  So I suck it up and make the call.

In spite of everything, she comes through for me.  Lists off everything I need to be doing as far as documenting, getting him to the ER, filing a police report afterward if the neighbor decides to pull a vanishing act (the woman is out of town VERY frequently, sometimes we only see her once or twice a week so we know this is likely).  While I’m on the phone with her, my husband is on the phone with his friend, who is a veterinarian in another state.  Equine vet, but hey, they all have the same basic knowledge under their specialties.  Vet friend says get him to the ER tonight, as in right now, and starts a massive spiel on the danger of waiting since rabies is a possible factor in this equation.  Full panic is setting in now and I’m crying fullblown and vet friend is telling us to take him in NOW, we’re operating on a tight timeframe and rabies is something you don’t fuck around with and we do not want to cut it even remotely close.

So.  We grab our masks and get gone.  On the way to the ER I call the neighbor in one last ditch attempt to get something remotely useful information-wise from her.  She answers on what had to be the fifteenth ring, I was just about to hang up when there’s finally a terse “Hello.”  And while I’m breathlessly telling her we’re in the car on our way to the emergency room and I need to know if her damn dog has had its damn shots or my sweet little 8 year old boy is going to have to start a horrifically painful series of shots for something that likely isn’t even going to happen to him, she has the unmitigated BALLS to calmly and coldly say to me, “If I had that information I would have given it to you.  I can’t do anything until tomorrow.”

Again...say it with me.  FUCK. HER.  She doesn’t even ask if he’s okay.  Her attitude and tone make it clear that she’s considering this whole thing a waste of her time and she’s annoyed that I keep contacting her about it.

I hang up.  Not gonna let that bitch hear me cry.

We get to the ER, I run inside with Little, husband and Big have to stay in the car because Covid regulations.  We get temperature-checked at the door and then do the front desk check-in thing; it’s a quiet night and a small town thank god so we get taken to a room immediately, ER nurse asks what’s happened and I tell her.

She is PISSED.  Informs me that they’re going to be calling the police and that I won’t have to do anything, the Sheriff’s Department will handle it all.  She takes all Little’s stats, checks him over, then leaves to make the call.

Doctor comes in, super nice man, Dr Khan.  He’s not happy about the situation either, tells us they’ll get the police involved on our behalf, verifies that the bite will be okay with some careful tending and a ten day round of antibiotics.  He says since it’s highly unlikely a domestic pet is carrying rabies and this dog has a history of just being a bad tempered bitch, he’s not going to start Little on the horrific preventative treatment for the virus because it’ll likely be unnecessary - but that damn mutt IS going into quarantine and the CDC is being notified of the situation.

Husband texts me from the parking lot: COPS JUST PULLED UP.  About three minutes later Deputy Bishop walks in and he’s ready to rumble because he’s already mad about the call being for a dog attack, and when he sees the victim - all 48 lbs of tiny skinny little blue-eyed blonde haired angelfaced Little - he’s furious.  Takes all the information, asks a lot of questions, spends a lot of time with us, listens to Little, and then as he’s closing his notebook he tells me that he’s headed to neighbor’s house to inform her she’s in some shit now and she should have just cooperated with me from the start (yep I told him how she gave me the runaround).  But since she didn’t extend even the slightest bit of human decency, her dog is being put on the “problem animal” watch list and I’m to call him immediately if she gives me any trouble at all, ever, about any of this.

She not only has to quarantine the dog for ten days, she has to report to the CDC.  If she doesn’t comply, the dog will be taken by the authorities.  She’s also in trouble for not maintaining proper records on the dog’s vaccinations (which I think is because the dog ISN’T vaccinated - why would she have given me such a yank job about it if it was?  I straight up asked her FOUR TIMES “is the dog vaccinated” and she refused to give me a simple yes or no).

So it’s finally finished and we’re released from the hospital, and as we’re turning at the end of our street headed home we pass Deputy Bishop leaving neighbor’s house.  Neighbor is out in her front yard, dragging her trash cans to the corner in the dark as we go into our house.

She never looks at us, never asks how Little is doing.  Nothing.  Pretends we aren’t even there.  Her dog just fucking MAULED my kid, we’re literally just now home from the hospital because of it, we’re going to have an astronomical hospital bill, she could likely get SUED THE FUCK INTO OBLIVION AND BACK, she’s standing less than 20 feet away from us as we’re carrying the injured baby into the house...but she doesn’t even ask if the kid is okay.

This is where the learned lesson comes in.  Remember that fakey-sunshiny-chirpy-friendly “I’m a great neighbor, you’re so lucky to have me!” shit I mentioned at the beginning?  Yeah, we thought this lady was a super great person, we had nothing to make us think otherwise.  Now we do.  From the very first contact after the incident she attempted to make it our fault - said to me in one of the first texts that if we had a problem with her dog’s behavior we should have said so from the start (I had told her that the dog chased Little and snarled at him a lot, that this wasn’t the first time, and that she needed to make sure it was the last time).  She immediately got uppity with me and turned it into our mistake for not saying something every time the dog acted up.  Oh, okay, forgive us for trying to be good neighbors who don’t complain about everything.  That’s where we went wrong here!  Yeah it’s all our fault, sorry!  You’re completely within your rights to keep a dangerous animal that hates children next door to a family with children and not do anything to keep it under control.  Our bad, sorry to waste your time.

For the nth time...fuck her.  People show their true colors when they feel threatened, and I feel like she knew she likely has a lawsuit coming...and if she felt threatened by the possibility of a lawsuit, that means she knows she’s guilty and deserves one.

So anyway...Little is going to be fine, physically.  But he’s made it clear that he’s never going outside again.  (Say it with me, class...FUCK HER).  The shitty little dog has to be locked up for ten days, yay.  Personally I wish they’d taken it away, but at least there’s 10 days where Little can go out in his own damn yard without fearing for his life - if I can convince him it’s safe and talk him into it.  (Say it again...)

Tomorrow I talk to neighbor’s vet and get the truth, finally, about the damn thing’s shots (or lack thereof), and then I have to call our homeowner’s insurance and file a claim through them against neighbor’s insurance to try to get our hospital bill paid by her.  Which, you know, probably wouldn’t even have been necessary if the woman had cooperated with me from the start.  And then I get to start the long process of getting Little through his trauma and fear of ever going outside to play again.  And in 3-5 days I get the joy of going down to the police department to pick up a copy of the report.

And, of course, we get to deal with the cold shoulder from a suddenly not-such-a-nice-person uncaring next door neighbor who obviously thinks we’re assholes because the hospital called the police and reported her while our son was bleeding in the emergency room with holes in his leg the size of her precious pet’s teeth.

I won’t ever fall for that fakey-nice act again, from anyone.  My gut never truly believed she was as good as she pretended to be, and now I know my gut was right.  She’s a mother...yet she couldn’t even muster up that fake sunshine long enough to find out if a child was going to be alright.  A child whose injury and trauma were due to her negligence.  To me that makes the deception a thousand times worse.  She’s a goddamned mother and she flat doesn’t give a shit.  She didn’t even pretend to.

Words can’t even go where my feels are at the moment.  

[roseskiesandbutterflies]

Le Démon Déchu - Chapter 2: Réponses Et Plus De Questions

Summary: The summary is kind of long so please check a previous part or my masterlist if you want to read it.

Warning(s): threat, swearing

Word Count: 6.8k+

Inspiration: Do You Know What Eternity Is? by Elderly_Worm on AO3, Great Omens (The Big One) by falsepremise on AO3, Pray For Us, Icarus series by Atalan on AO3, Demonology and the Tri-Phasic Model of Trauma: An Integrative Approach by Nnm on AO3, wasteland, baby by john1513 on AO3, Not of Us by ShesAKillerQueen98 on AO3, How to Win a Lifetime Achievement Award for Services to Television (and how not to) by GaryOldman on AO3, Doctor Who (don’t ask) and, of course, Good Omens itself

A/N: Okay I took a bit of a hiatus from writing literally anything for about five months so sorry about that but I’m back now!! That’s the main thing. Also, I’ve left high school now which is very exciting! That does mean I’ll have so much more time to write and I’m definitely going to try and use this summer to establish some kind of routine for writing so that when I start college, I won’t get too overwhelmed with both my studies and with updating my fics. That’s the plan anyway so don’t hold me to that lmao. With any luck, now I’ve actually said that it’ll have to happen. (I wrote that part of this note back in May when it was the start of the summer. It is currently September and I’m just about to finally publish this chapter and I assure you, I am cringing at my own optimism.) Sorry this took so long to post. This chapter has been in the works since May (yes, I know I’m terrible) but I actually got a lot more writing done in that time that what you just see in this chapter. All will be revealed soon. I just promise that I have been productive. Once you’ve read this chapter, you have my blessing to translate the title of this fic. Hopefully it will make sense.

I just wanted to point out something about the playlist I linked in the previous chapter. I am well aware that there are some rather problematic people in it, namely Sia. I want you all to know that I don’t support her in any way (I don’t like her at all I think she’s a complete ableist twat). Her songs are only on there because of how well they fit with the story (a lot of this will become clearer as the story goes on).

I also wanted to point out that I know that if angels do exist, then their true forms probably wouldn’t look anything like humans. I’m well aware of that, I’m not an idiot, I don’t know if any of you remember when people started googling ‘angel true form’ and some people got scared lmao. The point is, we’ve all seen the pictures. But for the purpose of this story, and honestly just to make it easier for me to describe what the characters are doing, we’re going to have to pretend that they did look like humans. Can I claim creative license with this one? Maybe it got lost in translation because there is probably no way someone could describe how an angel truly looks in any human language? I don’t know, just roll with it.I know that this chapter had so much exposition and explanation in it but I can promise you two things. One, there is still much to be revealed. Two, I promise this isn’t just bad writing on my part. Just trust that I needed to put this all in this early on.

And how is everyone doing after the season 2 announcement? I mean, at the time of writing this specific part of my notes, it only got announced about an hour ago lmao. I’m very fucking excited, oh my god. It’s all I’ve been able to think about since I found out I can’t lie. Catch me trying to finish this before it comes out in case things occur which means I have to change things in this story. I can’t be arsed for that. Oh well. Hopefully it’ll read like those Sherlock fics that people wrote in between series 2 and series 3 if that doesn’t happen.

Taglist: @briarrose26​

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Hermit (upright) + Five of Wands (upright)

Conflict. Reflection. Resurfacing memories.

************

Let’s admit, without apology, what we do to each other.

We know who our enemies are. We know.

– Richard Siken (Detail of the Fire)

************

“Fuck.”

The angel and demon exchanged glances of what could only be described as thinly veiled panic, while the woman in front of them just looked annoyed at the most.

“They couldn’t wait five minutes, could they?” she muttered, pinching at the bridge of her nose in frustration before standing up again, “Look, just stay down here, I’m gonna go sort this out. With any luck they won’t have actually realised you’re here too.”

“Wait, how do you know they’re here for you?” Crowley asked, suddenly curious as to what business Eloise might have with Heaven.

“Just a gut feeling,” she said before making her way to the spiral staircase behind them, muttering to herself, “If they were here for you, I feel like they would have at least used the front door.”

The other two waited until she’d run upstairs before exchanging a quick glance, an unspoken word, and following her up.

Meanwhile, Eloise was hovering outside a room at the end of the corridor which she could only assume was the bedroom. She was strangely hesitant, not out of fear of them, simply out of fear of the unknown. She hadn’t spoken to anyone in that room for millennia, and something told her that this wasn’t going to be a friendly chat. She took a deep breath, even though she technically didn’t need it, letting a wave of faux confidence wash over her, and stepped inside. Don’t crumble now. You’ve come too far to crumble now.

“Ah, Mariel, long time no see,” Gabriel smiled coldly, brushing the dust off his white suit. Flanked by two other angels, he stood in the wreckage of the bedroom without even acknowledging the damage they must have caused when they crashed in. Beside him were Beelzebub and Hastur, who both looked as though they had been dragged kicking and screaming to come here. Beelzebub in particular kept shooting metaphorical daggers at Gabriel, who remained perfectly oblivious. The entire ceiling had caved in from the impact of their crash, the setting sun painting the doorway where Eloise stood in a pale gold and casting a dark shadow over the others.

She’d grimaced at the use of her old name; it was too unfamiliar, too ancient. Mariel was the name of a long-dead version of herself. Once upon a time, she’d embraced it, but that was once upon a time. Once upon a time long gone.

“Almost like I’ve been avoiding you on purpose,” she muttered, leaning against the doorway as she stared intrusively at each person in the room, observing, assessing. She silently revelled in the blatant discomfort in each of their faces.

“No need to be so rude,” Gabriel said, doing anything to avoid her eyes, his previous confident façade now shattered.

Eloise stared at him in disbelief, “What exactly were you expecting? A fucking welcome party? I haven’t seen any of you in over six thousand years and you just crash through the roof of my house, unannounced and uninvited, so yeah, forgive me for being a little irritated.” She couldn’t help but feel a little bit guilty. She’d barely been in Aziraphale’s bookshop for fifteen minutes and she was already pretending she owned it.

She watched smugly as he squirmed under her gaze, desperately looking to the others to say something in response. A moment or two passed before Beelzebub’s head suddenly snapped up in confusion, “Are you alone?”

Shit. She’d hoped that they wouldn’t have noticed the presence of the two who were definitely not downstairs like she’d asked. She swallowed, trying not to let any kind of emotion show on her face, trying not to give the game up that quickly, “Yeah, I live on my own.” She watched the whole group of them squint in concentration, trying to sense any other beings in the house. She sighed, changing the subject before they could comment on it any further, “Look, what do you want? I don’t have all day so if you could make it quick then that would be much appreciated.”

Gabriel looked back at her, his suave exterior unfortunately making a return, “Hey, we just wanted to check up on you, see how you’re doing-”

“That’s bullshit and you know it,” she snapped. She pushed herself off from the doorway, stalking towards the others, “You have had six thousand years to ‘check up on me’, don’t pretend you’ve only started to care now.”

She was met with only silence as Gabriel and Beelzebub glanced at each other awkwardly, looking very much like chastised children. Suddenly the latter groaned and cried, “You can’t just leave Hell!”

“Oh, here we go,” Eloise muttered, rolling her eyes, bored already.

“You can’t! You Fell from Heaven, so you go to Hell, there isn’t a third option!”

“Well, apparently there is,” she shrugged.

“No there isn’t!” they argued, face screwed up like a petulant child.

“Then what do you call this then?” she asked, unfolding her wings for the second time that day. She studied their reactions closely, scrutinising coal-black eyes piercing through their very souls. She was searching for any hint of shock, of recognition, of anything that could clue her in as to what was going on in their heads at that moment. All she could find, however, was pure, unadulterated confusion. Which was annoying when her wings were supposed to be an answer to their unasked questions.

Gabriel stumbled over his words, “Good Lord, how did you even-”

Eloise cut him off curtly, no longer having the patience to listen to his incoherent mumbles. She instead turned to Beelzebub who at least had the decency to look a little more composed, “That would be what you could sense then. I’ve got both Heaven and Hell in me, that’s a lot of energy to pick up on.” She stared right through them, daring them to say anything else.

“Must be,” they replied slowly, though they didn’t look at all convinced.

Gabriel held up a hand, his eyes darting about as he tried to comprehend what he was seeing, “No hold on, how did you even manage that?”

“I left Hell,” Eloise said simply, “Why should I have black wings? I’m not some demon who ran away from everything. I left. Permanently. I looked Hell in the eye and walked away. You know what? Fuck it, I looked Satan in the eyes and walked away.”

“You what?” he stuttered.

“Yeah, you heard me. You have a problem with me leaving Hell then go on! Take that up with the bloody devil,” she said, staring them down, daring them to retaliate. She smirked when she was met with pure, uncomfortable silence, “Except you won’t, will you? Because you don’t actually give two fucks about me. Just like I said, if you did then you would have chased me up a long time ago. Quite frankly, I think you must have been glad to have me out of your hair,” she sighed, half sad, half amused when they couldn’t even meet her eye. She paused for a moment, wondering how far she could push this, before asking, “You know what I think is really going on here? I think the pair of you are feeling a bit bruised after the absolute shitshow that was Armageddon last year, which, by the way, fucking hilarious. I think your egos are feeling a little sore after a literal child stopped you from ending the world, so you’re thinking ‘hmm, what would be an easy win so that we don’t feel like total shit? Oh yeah, what about that demon who ran away all that time ago? That should be easy to sort out.’. Well, love to disappoint, but you’re not getting me that easily, especially when not a single one of us actually wants me back, and Sandalphon, take one more step further I swear I will dropkick you back to Heaven,” she snapped, glaring at the angel who had been menacingly inching closer while she had been talking. He reluctantly stepped back alongside Gabriel, looking a little more than miffed that his plan hadn’t worked out. “You really want me back? Get your bosses to talk to me because I don’t actually see why it’s any of your business. No middle men. Just God, Satan and me. I’ll see what they have to say about all this. Questions?” she asked, tone snapping from one extreme to another, almost as if she had just been possessed.

Gabriel stared at her, mouth gaping like a fish, “You can’t just boss us around like that.”

“What? Like how you bossed us around all those years?” she replied without missing a beat, real rage, real danger seeping into her voice now, “I think we’re done here.”

“But-”

“I said, I think we’re done here,” she said, leaving no room for arguments. She gestured to the sorry excuse for a room around them, “Now, if you wouldn’t mind cleaning this up.”

“Why can’t you do it? You can miracle things too,” Gabriel said, desperate for any kind of leverage over Eloise.

“You’re right, I could, but I didn’t make this mess, and I personally believe that you should face the consequences of your actions, Gabriel,” she said pointedly, watching as he visibly gulped. In a matter of seconds, the room was restored to its original state and Eloise was left alone in the room, no indicators that she was ever with any other people remaining.

She sighed and all but collapsed into a chair that may or may not have existed a few moments ago, confident façade shattered completely. She breathed heavily in exhaustion, as if she’d just run a marathon; she supposed she had just run a mental one. Her emotions were bugging her to no end. It was strange. She wasn’t scared, per se. There was very little that Gabriel or Beelzebub could do to her that would frighten her anymore. She tried her best to compose herself, writing off the tsunami inside her mind as just plain old adrenaline, before calling out, “You can come in now. I know you guys are outside, it’s okay, you can come in.”

Crowley and Aziraphale walked into the room, one looking considerably more sheepish than the other. Aziraphale perched awkwardly on the freshly reconstructed bed, “We’re sorry–”

“No, you’re not.”

“No, we’re not.”

Eloise and Crowley exchanged a glance, amused looks on both of their faces while Aziraphale simply looked distressed. Eloise turned back to him and smiled sympathetically, “I told you, it’s fine. I would have done the same,” she admitted, looking away before collecting herself once again, “So, I’m guessing you have a lot of questions–”

“That’s the understatement of the century,” Crowley muttered as he took a seat beside Aziraphale, although it was a very loose definition of ‘taking a seat’.

Aziraphale glared at him while Eloise just sighed and reluctantly said, “I think it might be better if I just show you.”

Crowley cocked his head in confusion, “Show us what?”

She brought her chair closer to the edge of the bed and put out her hands, “Take my hands. Brace yourselves.”

Mariel was standing before a crowd of angels, dozens upon dozens of disgusted faces staring right at her. She couldn’t quite remember getting there. She had been in the pitch-dark holding cell and the next thing she knew, she was here. Blinding white light surrounded them, harshly illuminating her vulnerabilities before all of Heaven. She tried her best to keep her chin up even though she absolutely hated the fact that they could see the bruises from when she had been arrested that were now blooming on her face. She frowned as she noticed the lack of measures preventing her from escaping. All that was keeping her there was Gabriel’s presence at her side, cold violet eyes pointedly ignoring her. He really was an arrogant bastard for assuming that she wouldn’t even try to make a run for it. Just because he was right this one time, it didn’t mean that he shouldn’t have come prepared. Mariel sighed and looked up at the angels staring down at her. Michael was sat higher than everyone in the centre of the crowd, face void of all emotion as she said, “The Principality Mariel. You’re on trial today for betraying the will of the Almighty, rebelling against all that is good and light in the universe...”

Mariel blocked the rest of her pretentious speech out as she droned on about all the awful things she’d supposedly done to deserve this. It was all lies anyway. She knew the real reason she was here. There were a few things that stood out to her despite it all, things that nearly made her laugh. She’d known that they’d needed to conjure up some reasons for condemning her, but this was just ridiculous. Gabriel really had gone to extraordinary yet desperate lengths to slander her in her final moments in this Someone-forsaken place. She was surprised that the angels gathered to watch her downfall believed a word of this. She tried her best not to resent them, though. It wasn’t like they had anything better to believe in. Especially considering the amused smirk that had crept its way onto her face.

She returns to reality just in time to hear Michael ask, “What do you have to say to defend yourself?”

“I’ve done nothing I need to defend,” she said firmly, leaving no room for argument.

“Don’t make this worse for yourself than it already is,” Gabriel muttered dangerously from where he stood beside her.

Mariel turned to look at him in disbelief. “How the fuck could this get any worse, Gabriel?” she hissed, fury flaring up in her eyes.

He just looked back at her condescendingly, “Do you really need me to answer that?”

She pointedly refused to reply, turning back to face Michael, determined to ignore him.

The next part goes past in a blur for Mariel. Michael speaks again, though she doesn’t listen. Then suddenly there are shouts of anger, screams of rage, coming from the gathered crowd. They spit with venom as they hurl insults at her. She doesn’t hear a word. It’s as though her head is under water, completely submerged in the stone cold anger that seeps through her body, and suddenly Mariel is drowning in the realisation that this is really happening, oh God this is really happening.

Why? Why is this happening to me? You listening, God? Look me in the eye and tell me why this is happening.

She doesn’t get an answer, and though she wasn’t expecting one, it still hurts. Because she knows that she’ll never get an answer from Her again now.

Eventually she feels a tug on her arm from where Gabriel has been standing, dragging her away from the crowd and out her of current state of mind. She could feel her senses coming back to her as she stumbled backwards, but everything was crashing down on her too quickly, too harshly. She did her best to shove the rising panic as deep down insider her as she could. There was no way she would let anyone here see her in that state. She couldn’t let them think they’d won.

She didn’t even realise she had reached the edge of the ground she was standing on, the edge of Heaven itself, Gabriel no longer grabbing her arm. She nearly found herself peering over the edge, but stopped herself before she could lean too far. It may have helped her in the past but now was not the time to give in to her curiosity. And she didn’t trust Gabriel to not push her the moment he had the chance. She turned her head to glare fiercely at him, piercing holes in his very soul. She could slowly feel her anxiety being replaced by cool rage as she found herself saying, “Any institution that tries to silence anyone who opposes them is inherently corrupt.” She stared knowingly at his discomfort as he forced himself to face her. He knew what she meant by that. He knew.

He took a second to compose himself before practically scoffing in her face, “Don’t preach at me.”

Mariel cocked her head as she studied him. She watched as his eyes subconsciously flicked back to the crowd, to the other Archangels. He blatantly wanted nothing more than to re-join his fellow angels, the only beings who understood why he was doing what he was doing, or were at least supposed to understand anyway. Somehow she doubted they were all as cold-hearted and self-absorbed as the angel in front of her. She considered him for a moment before saying simply, “Your quest for power will kill you in the end.”

He furrowed his brows in somewhat amused confusion, “Is that a threat?”

“No. It’s the truth,” she blinked at him before leaning in and murmuring in his ear, “It will be your downfall.”

“The only one who’s going to Fall around here is you,” he said dangerously. Mariel leaned back and watched the lethal glimmer in his eye wither and die under the intensity of her gaze.

She just smiled. “We’ll see.” She let herself look at him for a moment longer before blinking away the tears and cautiously taking a small step backwards. She could feel where the ground ended beneath her feet and was sure not to step any further. She took one last look of the place she once called home, embracing how it felt for the last time though she knew she wouldn’t miss it.

She closed her eyes for a moment and fell back.

Mariel was Falling. That bit she knew, but much more than that? Everything was happening too fast for her to notice. And yet, it was as if she was existing in slow-motion. She worried for a moment that this was, in fact, her fate; doomed to remain in a perpetual state of limbo, of Falling, for all eternity. The only thing telling her otherwise was the view of Heaven above her, which she realised only too late was slowly shrinking into nothing. Mariel found herself reaching her own arms out, grasping for Heaven. They were opposite ends of a magnet being roughly pulled away from each other by an invisible force.

You hear that God? Why me? What did I ever do to deserve this? And don’t you dare tell me it’s all part of your plan because right now, the only thing I want is to be back where I should be and I can’t even have that.

She pulled herself out of her mind and back into reality; she’d have plenty of time in Hell to yell at a God who’d never listen, let alone answer. She only just started to register her surroundings, the fact that she was actually Falling, who knows how far and for how long, tumbling through the air at an unimaginable speed, plummeting towards a place that could be anything from seconds to hours away. The deafening wind that screamed in her ears, drowning out the screams which may have been coming from her mouth or her mind, who was she to say? Air whipped around her body, icier and more painful than any words that could ever be uttered by the angels above her. It wasn’t until she could no longer see any hint of Heaven on the horizon that she started to feel the tears finally fall, trickling down her face and floating slightly due to the force of the Fall.

Then suddenly it came. She felt it in the very tips of her wings first, a strange tingling sensation, as though hundreds and then thousands of pins were skirting the edges of her corporeal being. It spread over the rest of her wings, and then her body, at a faster pace than she could keep track of until her whole being felt as though it was burning. The pain grew, and it grew, and it grew, and she didn’t think she could physically take any more pain when she looked up in horror at her own freshly blackened wings. Her beautiful, holy wings which had once been the softest, purest white, were now stained with evil and ash. For the first time since she started Falling, however long ago that might have been, she let out a choked sob that racked through her whole body and through the ever-changing air around her. Nobody heard her cries. Nobody heard her screams as the searing pain in her chest grew stronger. She couldn’t even begin to work out whether it was physical or emotional but it was there and it burned a hole, a gaping wound, through her soul, leaving a scar fated to never heal and to forever haunt her-

Eloise was crying. She’d tried so hard to prevent the steady streams that were now running down her cheeks, but that was a memory that she’d never wanted to relive. She looked upwards for a moment, trying to regain control of her emotions and her breathing, before peeling her hands away from the two sat in front of her. She roughly wiped the tears from her face, and suddenly the only thing telling you she had been crying were the bloodshot eyes that Crowley tried to ignore as he said bluntly, “I’m still confused.”

“Crowley, give her a minute,” Aziraphale chastised him, furrowing his brows at the demon before he turned back to Eloise with kind eyes and a kinder heart, “Are you alright, my dear?”

She nodded without much hesitation, “I’m fine, it’s okay.” She certainly wasn’t fine, nor was it okay, but the last thing she wanted was to have to deal with her feelings in front of two people she was trying her best not to scare off. She looked back at Crowley, eyebrows raised in curiosity.

He looked at her in understanding, for if anyone knew her thought process in that moment, it was him. “Right, so you Fell and became a demon. Then what?”

“Well, you know what Hell’s like,” she started, looking pointedly at Crowley. She waited for him to nod before continuing, “Not my scene at all. I just point-blank refused to do anything they asked of me. Naturally they didn’t like that much. Eventually I was called in to see Satan about it. I remember thinking, ‘well, that’s that then. Terrible knowing you all.’, because I didn’t think I was going to survive that. Turns out he was just annoyed that I was being a bloody nuisance to everyone else, but he was too amused to really do anything about it, so he basically just told me to piss off. Leave Hell, don’t come back, and I won’t tell anyone where you’ve gone or that you’re even alive. Not exactly a deal I could refuse, so I left, came to Earth, been here ever since. I think everyone just assumed he’d killed me,” she shrugged as if she hadn’t just destroyed the whole idea of eternal damnation with just a few sentences. She smiled to herself as they gaped at her for a moment, though she doubted they realised they were doing it.

Crowley somehow managed to gather his senses quick enough to hold up a hand and say, “Wait, but when you were talking to Gabriel and Beelzebub and that lot, you said they had six thousand years to check up on you. Why would you say that if they thought you were dead?” He narrowed his eyes at her. He wasn’t altogether quite sure why he seemed to be so keen on finding any gaps in her story, but he needed to be able to trust that she was telling the truth. Or at least that’s what he told himself.

Aziraphale’s eyes lit up with understanding. “Yes, and they didn’t exactly seem surprised to see you alive.”

Eloise grinned. You two are gonna be fun, I can tell. “You’re both very observant, I have to give you credit for that.” She paused in thought for a second before starting carefully, “You see, the trouble with me is that I’m not really one for keeping a low profile. I’m too noisy, so to speak, and I don’t even realise it most of the time. This demon I hadn’t exactly been the nicest to back in Hell saw me in Babylon, gosh, it must have been eighteen thirty something BC? Anyways, he ratted me out to Beelzebub who must have told Gabriel all about it. I had about a decade of this bloody demon trying to discorporate me just to see if it would force me to go back to Hell, then one day he just stopped, and I never saw him again. Beelzebub probably told him to piss off.”

They were both quiet again for a little while. Eloise didn’t even think to say anything. It might be a rare occasion, but she did know when to keep her mouth shut when it mattered. She could see the cogs turning in their heads as if it was projected in the air above them. Eventually Crowley murmured, “I didn’t even know you could do that, you know, leave.”

She shook her head with a strange kind of sympathy that came from recognising an experience you had far too long ago, “Neither did I. It stills shocks me sometimes if I think about it too much.”

A few seconds passed before Crowley cleared his throat abruptly and said, “They called you Mariel. I thought you said your name was Eloise.”

She hesitated before answering. She knew exactly what he was doing, she’d been doing it for the whole of their conversation thus far, but just because she tended to bury her emotions, it didn’t mean that she liked it when others did it. She decided to ignore the hypocrisy of that thought, how ironic, she thought to herself, and instead explained, “It is. Mariel was my angel name. You know how it is,” she looked pointedly at Crowley again, hoping that Aziraphale would be able to put the pieces together. She didn’t actually know how much he knew about what it was like to Fall and become a demon.

“Oh, so is Eloise your demon name?” Aziraphale asked politely.

“No,” she said curtly, instantly feeling guilty when she saw the hurt that flashed over Aziraphale’s face. She grimaced and explained in a gentler tone, “I chose it for myself when I came to Earth. Hell tried to change my name after I Fell but I just refused.” She studied him for a second, watching his eyes dart about, before saying, “You want to ask something, I can tell. What is it?”

He looked a little startled at being caught out, momentarily glancing at Crowley for support, probably subconsciously, Eloise noted with a smile. “I, well, I couldn’t help but notice that you mentioned Armageddon. Back when you were speaking with, um, well, you know. H-how did you know about that?”

“I might have been there.” The words rushed out of her mouth in a much less casual manner than what she’d been aiming for, coming out in a sort of jumbled heap that took Crowley and Aziraphale a moment to decipher.

Crowley, the poor sod, could only think to lean forward and ask a simple, “You what?”

She jumped to defend herself, wanting to avoid the onslaught of questions if she could, “Not actually at the airbase, but I was in the area. I was living in Tadfield at the time.”

Aziraphale narrowed his eyes, although the hint of a smirk on his face told her it was more in amusement than suspicion, “How did you know it was at the airbase?”

Eloise couldn’t help but chuckle to herself because of course, they’d notice her choice of words, “I knew Adam and his mates. I ran an ice cream shop, would you believe it. He came and told me all about it the day after,” she smiled fondly before suddenly coming alive with excitement, “That’s actually how I found out about you two. That’s why I’m here. Because I thought I was the only one trying to stop the world ending, but apparently I wasn’t. I had to see for myself.”

A moment passed before Aziraphale asked quietly, “You were trying to stop it?”

Eloise, not noticing the newly subdued atmosphere, launched herself into a painfully over-enthusiastic explanation, “Yeah, it was quite clever really, if I do say so myself. I made sure Adam was swapped with the American baby in the hopes that he would have a human enough upbringing to perhaps change things. Seems to have worked,” she shrugged, before finally taking in the two shocked faces that were staring back at her. Her brows furrowed and her face fell as she asked, “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You switched the babies?” Crowley asked blankly, although it came out as more of a statement than a question.

Her face screwed up as she tried to work out how best to explain herself. “Well, I say switched, it was more of a ‘made sure the demon dropping the antichrist off went to the wrong delivery room’ kind of thing. Feel sorry for the poor sod who had to deal with that but needs must.”

Crowley blinked at her and said bluntly, “I was the poor sod who had to deal with that.”

Eloise looked at him for a moment as about five different jigsaw pieces finally clicked in her head, before she threw her head back in realisation, “Oh shit, so you were. I knew your name sounded familiar.”

“You bastard, we spent six years raising the wrong child because of you!” he exclaimed, wagging his finger at her and jumping off of the bed at one point before Aziraphale tugged him back down. Eloise didn’t know whether to laugh or run for her life, for the menace in his words was betrayed by the disbelieving laugh in his voice.

“I’m sorry, you did what now?” she asked, only just processing what he’d just said, and she couldn’t help the laugh that escaped her lips at his dramatic antics. She knew not to push it when Aziraphale just lifted a finger and pursed his lips with the look of someone who’d rather never bring up said event again.

“Oh bloody heaven, I can’t believe this,” Crowley shook his head, chuckling to himself. Although part of him resented it, he couldn’t help but look at Eloise differently now as they laughed like little kids together. Maybe it was the fact that she seemed so much more like them now, so much more human. Or maybe it was the fact that she had been trying to stop the apocalypse and all the implications that came with the fact. Suddenly he just wanted to know more about her, but he quickly silenced that thought. One thing at a time.

She raised her shoulders with a confused look on her face, giggling as she said, “Sorry? Well, I didn’t know, did I?”

They locked eyes for a moment before bursting into laughter again at the sheer absurdity of it all, leaving Aziraphale slightly bewildered and more than slightly exasperated at the pair. It took them a few moments to finally calm down but once they did, Crowley sobered his tone of voice as he asked, “Right, back to what happened before we came in. Anything we need to keep an eye out for?”

Though he didn’t say it, Eloise could see the unasked question in his eyes. Are we safe? She smiled softly, “Nah, you two’ll be fine. Basically I told them if they want to talk to me, then they need to get their bosses involved, and somehow I highly doubt God and Satan are gonna pop down for a friendly chat any time soon. Even then, you two should be fine. I don’t think any of that lot clocked on that you were here.”

Crowley nodded in understanding, and it didn’t escape Eloise’s attention how the remaining dregs of tension visibly dissipated from both of their bodies. Aziraphale and Crowley looked at each other for a moment, the relief palpable from the pair of them. Eloise averted her eyes, giving them the privacy that they didn’t necessarily need but probably did want. She allowed herself a moment to ponder their relationship. They were very in tune with each other, very in sync, that much was obvious. Are they in love? The question sounded ridiculous the moment she thought it. Of course they are, look at them. She’d seen that look time and time again over the millennia. Although when she thought about the way they looked at each other further, that lead to another question. Do they know? The hint of yearning in their eyes was subtle but it was there. No, absolutely not. They’re too comfortable with each other. They’re a unit, that much she could tell. A unit that might not want to be disturbed.

Oh dear.

She looked back up at them hesitantly, unsure of what to say for the first time that evening. Eventually she said, “I’d better go. I think I’ve outstayed my welcome.”

Crowley frowned. Hadn’t she said she’d been travelling for a while? “You got somewhere to stay?”

Eloise paused. She’d definitely not been expecting that response. “Not yet. There is a flat I was going to rent but the people haven’t moved out yet because of the lockdown and it seems rude to miracle them away. I’m sure I’ll think of something.”

“Stay here,” Crowley said almost instantly, then pulled a face of confusion at how quickly he replied, “I mean, only if you want to.”

Eloise blinked at that. Surely, they wouldn’t want her there? What reason could they possibly have to want her there? “Wait, are you sure? I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

Crowley just shrugged, “It’s not a problem. What are your options anyway? No hotels are open, and you can’t stay with anyone.”

“Only if you’re sure,” she murmured, still wary for a reason she couldn’t quite put her finger on. She glanced at Aziraphale for confirmation; it was his bookshop after all.

He nodded firmly, “Of course. I’ve been told the sofa is remarkably comfy,” he added with a twinkle in his eye, to which she grinned broadly.

A short while and a few miracles later, the sofa downstairs had become a makeshift bed that was significantly larger and softer than it had remembered it being. Eloise was currently settled on it; all it had taken was ten minutes for her to completely crash out. Aziraphale and Crowley had left her in peace with a chuckle, heading up to the bedroom they shared (that wasn’t out of choice, mind you. Simply because there was only one bedroom in the bookshop. No other reason.) One slightly confused item of furniture aside, all seemed to be well in the bookshop.

Upstairs in the bedroom, an angel and a demon were sitting in the same bed. Neither of them had thought to turn off the lights, so they were sat in thick silence in the bedroom. Aziraphale didn’t usually come up to bed, not as used to sleeping as Crowley was, instead opting to read the night away downstairs. However this seemed impolite considering their new guest, so he’d come up with Crowley. And while Crowley was mulling this over he finally stumbled upon why he felt so uneasy.

Aziraphale hadn’t brought a book up with him.

As bizarre a concern as that may seem, Crowley could always trust Aziraphale to bring a book up to bed with him on the rare occasion he came up at night. That was one of the things he lo- liked about him. Liked. He looked at Aziraphale curiously, noting the slight frown on his face as he stared into space. How deep in his head must he have been to forget a book? “You alright, angel?” he asked as softly as he could so as to not startle him.

He looked at Crowley with wide eyes that darted away almost instantly as he started to play with his hands in his lap, “Yes, my dear, I’m fine. I just realised something, is all.”

Crowley cocked his head in interest, “Oh really? What was it?”

He was silent for a little while before saying in a voice no louder than a whisper, “I think I was there when she Fell.”

Crowley felt his eyebrows raise in shock, looking away for a second to try and compose himself. “Right. Well, that’s a thing.”

“Quite.”

He furrowed his brows as he tried to make sense of what this meant now, “And was she telling the truth? Did all that actually happen?”

“Yes. I remember it perfectly well. Clear as day,” he managed to choke out with a forced smile before going back to his routine fidgeting.

Crowley laid a gentle hand on top of Aziraphale’s, stopping what he was doing and getting him to actually look him in the eye for longer than a second. “You sure you’re alright?”

“I am quite well. Don’t fret,” he said, and despite Crowley’s concern, he couldn’t pretend that the smile on Aziraphale’s face wasn’t genuine, however small it may have been.

He reluctantly let it go, changing the subject quickly, “You alright with her staying here? I know it just sort of happened.”

The smile on his face only grew, much to Crowley’s surprise, “It’s alright. After all, wasn’t it you who said we’re on our own side now? I think she’s the first person we’ve met who might understand what that means.”

Crowley tried not to think too much about the fact that Aziraphale had actually listened to him when he’d said that, let alone remembered it, instead opting for a casual, “Yeah, I suppose so. Right, I’m gonna get some sleep. I, um, yeah,” he stammered out awkwardly, cursing his brain for not thinking of literally any other decent response.

Aziraphale simply smiled fondly at him, “Indeed. Goodnight, my dear.”

*************

Hello my love,

At the time of writing this, I do not know what the future holds. For me it’s an uncertain, unstoppable force, and it’s not one I think I can fend off for much longer. I’ve tried, please believe that I’ve tried. I’ve tried for your sake to prevent the inevitable. But it’s coming. I can feel it. It won’t be long now, I don’t think.

If you’re reading this, it means I was right, and I have Fallen. I know you’re probably confused and scared and that there is a biting anger bubbling inside you. I wish I could tell you why this is happening. I wish I could tell you that this is all a huge misunderstanding that will be resolved soon.

I wish I could tell you I love you one more time.

But I can’t. There are many things I can’t do now, and it’ll do me no good to dwell on this any longer than I have to. To survive we must focus on what we can do, and that’s exactly what I’m asking you to do.

If I know myself as well as I think I do, there are many things I would have liked to have said to you upon our final farewell, but didn’t because I wanted to make sure you were alright. Don’t feel guilty about this, my love. Think of it as my last debt to you being repaid.

I have a plan. Well, it’s more of an idea, and it might not work. And it’s because of this that I shan’t tell you exactly what it is. It seems cruel to allow you to hope for something that might never come into fruition. But please put your faith in me, and in our love, for we will prevail. One way or another.

I hope that you didn’t wait to read this letter because you were scared of its contents, though I’m sure this isn’t the case. You were always brave. It was always something I loved about you. Your quiet, beautiful, roaring courage in the face of such turmoil and anguish. You always had the courage to be kind and to love with all your being, even when everything was against you. No one would have blamed you if you had turned cold and bitter, and yet you chose not to. I admire you for it every day. My idea, should it work, will require us both to be incredibly brave. But more on that another day. It’s that bravery and that strength that you will need to rely on now. That, and the thought of me. Though I may not physically be with you, but I hope that my love’s own soul is enough.

I won’t sign off this letter, because this is not where our story ends. There is much left to be written. And I need you to remember that each day we are parted. Until the next time, my love.

[skinks]

mr wentworth yes i help my son with his goofy voices yes i am a dilf tozier has the salt n pepper hair of god (oscar isaac) and the sexy librarian glasses to match

god I had never even considered that... the range of this...

Went starts going gray at 32 when Richie is 5 and it’s all the church women’s group can talk about... indirectly, of course. Oh, but he’s so young. Oh, he’ll be balding next. Oh I don’t know, doesn’t he look... distinguished? Mrs Nash from just down their street sees him doing rock-paper-scissors with his son Richard in the grocery store to determine whether or not Richard is allowed ice cream, and Dr Tozier is laughing because he’s winning, and he’s winning because Richard doesn’t know his father can see his little hidden hand reflected in the freezer cabinet, tucked behind his back. Richard’s laughing too, even though he’s losing, and bleats, “Again! Dad again,” eyes shining big as planets with coke-bottle rings.

“Don’t you know what best two out of three means? That was four draws ago.”

“No! No, I’ll win!” The boy shakes his head so hard his whole body rocks from side to side, then clings up at Dr Tozier’s middle with sticky hands. His very... trim middle. Helen’s own Rory, God love him, he enjoys a sudsy six-pack too much these days to keep a middle like that. “Two outta three! Three ice creams please Dad please please Dad please watch I can count to a hundred—”

“Well, we’re not playing hide-and-go-seek right now, Rich. And I beat you, didnt I?”

“Yeah!”

“Right. So why don’t you go get Dad six apples instead, alright? If you can do a hundred, six’ll be pie.” Dr Tozier claps his big hands gentle to the boy’s round cheeks, until they goldfish.

“Easy as,” they chant together. Helen props herself up with the handles of her own cart, the can of little hotdogs going slack in her hand.

“Six apples, then come right back. You got that, doc? You pick the color.”

Richard nods like he’s trying to detach his own head. Dr Tozier puts one hand just briefly on Richard’s dark mophead hair, like he’s giving the boy a blessing for his apple adventure. His hand is really quite broad, thinks Helen, popped out square at the thumb-joint. Matches that jawline of his, something whispers darkly in her stomach. Then the boy’s off, tearing down the aisle on a squeaking chariot of scuffed-gray sneakers and babbling what sounds like a Bugs Bunny impression, repeated on a loop. What’s up doc what’s up doc what’s up doc, fading around the corner to the fruit. Peculiar. Helen once saw the Tozier boy eat a worm at the park while pushing her youngest on the swings, after another solemn-eyed little boy with a faceful of freckles had carefully presented it to him in the sand box. Most peculiar.

Dr Tozier watches him go, then turns back to the freezer cabinet, and sticks two cartons of ice cream into his shopping cart—the very sugary kind. And the man is a dentist!

Helen puts her hand on her chest to calm the trilling schoolgirl rush of her heart, and then stops herself at the sight of her own wedding ring. Get a hold of yourself, Mrs Nash! For Pete’s sake! She trundles her cart over for some chit-chat. Afternoon, Doctor, she says, lovely weather. A perfect neighbourly opener. It is lovely; bright and warm and clear and golden, like honey outside. She’s quietly smug about her new blowout. Dr Tozier is wearing a crisp shirt with buttons like neat soldiers and short sleeves, exposing lean forearms. Yes, a lovely day. Helen swallows.

“Yes, good for the lawn,” replies Dr Tozier.

“We missed Margaret at book club this week,” Helen hedges.

“Oh, that’s right,” says Dr Tozier, and the fine lines at the corners of his eyes when he grins are even more distracting without the facemask he’s usually wearing, when Helen drops in for her check-ups. He pushes his spectacles up the strong slope of his nose. They’re wiry like him, steely gray to match his eyes. “She meant for me to tell you, or Diana. Maggie’s been in Skowhegan for the week at her mother’s. My mother-in-law is a woman of... nervous disposition, shall we say. Maggie didn’t think she’d cope with two Tozier men at once, now that Richie’s started losing his teeth.”

“Ohhh,” Helen coos. That must explain the ice cream. She puts her hand near to Dr Tozier’s arm, then away, then near, then away again for good. A neighbourly distance. Margaret is a lovely, lucky woman, even if she does wear flared pants. Hippie to yuppie pipeline’s alive ‘n’ flowin’, Rory always grunts whenever the Toziers come up in conversation. Helen imagines a picket fence between their bodies, and calms. “My Wendy was the same, I’m sure you remember.”

“Yes,” says Dr Tozier mildly. “You brought her in six times as I recall it, Mrs Nash.”

Mrs Nash. Honestly, like she’s his schoolteacher. It’s a little rude. Admittedly he does look quite, quite young with his faintly curling weekend-hair, if not for the new gray blazing a trail back from his temples like virgin snow. Helen is undeterred, even if something quivers inside at the thought of the word virgin in conversation with Dr Tozier. Music tinkles tinny through the ceiling speakers, and it puts Helen in mind of potted plants, or elevators. This is a lovely chat. “Well, you hate to see them suffer, don’t you? I’m sure Richard’s the same, lots of tears—”

“No, actually, Richie keeps on finding things to hit himself in the face with and knock out more teeth,” Dr Tozier interjects. He raises his eyebrows and speaks hushed, as if this is a secret for Helen’s ears alone. The thought makes her dizzy. “It’s my fault, I made the mistake of giving him a quarter for the first one. That’s why he’s not invited to Grandma’s. Lot of antiques.”

“Oh,” says Helen, taken aback. She has three girls; little boy behavior is as yet mystifying. “Well.”

“I’m joking, Helen,” Dr Tozier says cheerfully.

“Oh. I—I see. What a relief.”

He opens a freezer chest to examine a bag of frozen peas. “Maggie’s mom is deaf as white cat, she’d never notice.”

Helen tries to wipe her clammy hands on her dress without being obvious. Her face is hot, but she hopes her cardigan conceals the effect that the chill of the freezer aisle is having under her bra. She also hopes that it doesn’t.

He really does have such a slender, pleasant face, always with an air of casual, amused expectancy hanging around him. Haloing him, like that bright yellow light above the chair in his practice, blocked out when he leans over and slips his fingers inside. Helen supposes that’s what graduating medical school must do to a man, what marrying and fathering young and having one’s own practice by the end of such a turbulent decade as the nineteen-seventies must elicit. The ability to put people at ease, to—to say open wide and know the people of Derry trust him enough to comply. To open themselves. Helen’s breathing catches. Dr Tozier idly checks his sensible watch, still smiling the unhurried smile of a man who very rarely does his own grocery shopping anymore. Everyone knows you pick up the ice-cream last.

Helen gathers herself. This is the longest conversation she has entertained with Dr Tozier without children or the squeaking of latex gloves between them, and she’s gripped by the terribly silly need to be interesting. “Speaking of white cats, I couldn’t help noticing your hair, Wentworth—”

“DADDY!”

Dr Tozier blanches, whipping around to scan the end of the aisle. He is a long line of tense instinct tuned to thrum into action at one specific frequency, knuckles white on the cart handle. His cart bumps into Helen’s. It is thrilling.

“Fuck,” Dr Tozier mutters, and that’s thrilling too, he swore, oh, the boy’s probably fine Wentworth, don’t go, why don’t we just stay right here with the frozen goods and—

Then Richard comes barrelling back down the aisle like a colt on new legs covered in old Band-aids, with his arms full. The fluorescent strip-lights gleam white on Dr Tozier’s broad shoulders and he sags, like snow dropping from a branch, with relief.

“Hey, lunkhead,” he says, sounding shaky, but Richard is only five and would never know it. He’s babbling again. Seems to Helen like the boy’s as a hydrant overflowing on a hot day; entertaining and welcomed at first, until it becomes a nuisance when you begin to understand it won’t shut off, and have to call the firemen.

“Nyyeeeeeah,” Richard greets his father, tousled and bug-eyed with clear adoration, breathing hard from his Supermarket Sweep. Then he makes the carrot-noise. Looks like Bugs, Helen thinks of the boy’s new adult front teeth, the beaverish jut of them exacerbated by his missing canines on either side. Then she feels abruptly un-neighbourlike for being jealous of a child for his father’s attention, good grief.

Dr Tozier regards his son for a long moment. Then says, “What’s up, doc?” in a spot-on Mel Blanc whine. Richard giggles so hard his too-big glasses start slipping. “How many apples is that?”

“Gotta apples and I was gonna put ‘em in a bag but I forgot and Dad, Daddy look, s’a dinosaur on the box for my dinner when Mommy’s at Grandma’s—”

Dr Tozier sighs, putting one hand on his hip and dragging the other over his clean-shaven mouth, watching Richard drop his armfuls everywhere, scattering the linoleum. He has two apples, four boxes of brightly colored cereal, a handful of pencils topped with cartoon-character erasers, and a kiwi fruit. For a moment, Helen sees the shining enamel of Dr Tozier’s everything-will-work-out-with-another-cup-of-coffee amusement slip, wear away to worry underneath.

“Rich,” he says, interrupting Richard’s blabbermouth, firm and patient. Helen’s thighs burn suddenly under her skirts at the tone of his voice, and she looks down, rearranging her own groceries. She should leave them to get on. She could offer to help. Margaret’s out of town, poor things, they probably haven’t eaten a cooked meal all week!

“Richie,” Dr Tozier says again. “Listen and pay attention when Mom or me ask you to do something, remember? How many apples did I ask you to get?”

Richard has to crane his neck to meet his father’s eyes. Dr Tozier is one of the tallest fathers in the Derry Elementary catchment zone, Helen has checked. “Six!”

“And how many’ve you got, Elmer Fudd?”

“Um.” Richard’s pale little face creases in thought, then brightens. When he speaks again his voice is strange, accented. “Twooo.”

“Some apple hunter you are, huh.”

“Sorry, Daddy.”

“That’s fine.” Dr Tozier stoops to gather Richard’s detritus, and Helen knows she has something to contribute, watching the boy stick one of the pencils up his nose.

“You know, apples are very good for you,” she says. Richard turns to her, slack-jawed, as if seeing her for the first time. “You should listen to your Daddy, Richard, an apple a day keeps the doctor away.”

Richard stares for another few seconds. Then he bites down on his boogery pencil so that it threads through the gaps in his teeth, and hollers, “MY FRIEND BILL SAID THAT’S A PILE OF BULLSHIT.”

“No shouting indoors, Rich,” says Dr Tozier, still gathering. Helen rocks a step backwards, clinging to her cart like a life-preserver.

“Bill and my’s friend Eddie eats a thousand apples and sees the doctor all the time though Dad, and Miss Spiegel said if we eat apples we don’t have to see the doctors but Eddie eats them and—Bill said—”

“Pile of bullshit, yeah, I liked it. Bill’s an eloquent guy,” says Dr Tozier. This is the second time Helen has ever heard him curse in as many minutes. It comes out easy and amused as everything else does in his pleasant tenor. His legs and his jaw are so lean and angular that Helen can see the suggestion, the shadow of the shape of his perfect, swearing teeth through his cheek as he grins helplessly at his son, the fruit of his loins and someone else’s loins who isn’t Helen, and all of a sudden she feels a slick pulse of wet heat, up between her thighs.

She squeaks. Flutters her hand to her face without knowing why, perhaps to catch the noise before Dr Tozier notices, just another quivering Derry leaf tossed along by his breezy manner. He looks up anyway, with a frown.

“Everything alright, Helen?”

“Just—fine, yes,” she manages. Dr Tozier is still down on one knee, kindly face level with her skirts. She can see right down under his starched collar from this angle, a slivering glimpse of smooth, dark hair. No undershirt. Helen has lain naked against Rory’s nakedness before without feeling this alive, in every part of her body. She feels like a heart, beating.

“Oh, hang on.” Dr Tozier says, eyes widening, and turns Richard by the shoulders to face her. One pencil for each nostril, now. “Apologize to Mrs Nash for cussing, Richie.”

“Sorry!” Richard shouts, sounding less like he’s apologizing and more like he’s just deemed Helen it during a game of tag.

Helen is still floating in a dazed state of mild panic. Like a prey-mouse, bewitched into slack compliance by her own body’s snaking desires. “That’s alright, dear.”

F-word, Dr Tozier had said. Maybe cussing could be quite neighbourly when applied in the right context, thinks Helen.

“You mentioned my hair, earlier,” says Dr Tozier, straightening back up with a knowing sort of arch to his eyebrow as he smiles genially at Helen. He tilts his head down at Richard. “There’s the reason. Every last one, sprinkled onto my head at the tender age of thirty-two by the great salt-and-pepper shaker of fatherhood. Especially this week, with Maggie on sabbatical. Had to bring you to work with me, didn’t I, buckaroo?”

Richard bites and swings and tugs on his father’s long arm, a tearaway kitten with a much obliging scratching post. Dr Tozier hardly seems to notice. “Yeah! Daddy’s got fishes at work!”

Dr Tozier grimaces slightly at Helen, but also as if he’s seeing right through her to some past unnamable horror. “I liked those fish. Calmed down the nervy patients.” He sighs again.

Helen wonders briefly whether or not the residents of Dr Tozier’s waiting-room fish tank suffered the same fate as that worm in the park, and decides she’d rather not know.

“Well, you needn’t worry about it,” she says, gamely. She watches her hand reach towards Dr Tozier’s silver-black brindle, then snatches it back from his bland expression to brush the tips of her own feathered-out hair. “The gray, I mean.”

Dr Tozier blinks.

“It’s very—that is to say, you look, it makes you look, I mean, I think it’s—”

Dr Tozier’s left eyebrow joins his right, raised up high.

A tidy little jet of hysteria shoots up from Helen’s knotting stomach to spin like a top in her chest. She hears herself stutter out the word, “Dashing,” and immediately wishes to flee the store, leaving her cart abandoned like so much collateral damage.

But Dr Tozier only barks a laugh, a short, smooth hah like everything else he says. Entirely unperturbed. “Well, thank you.”

Too unperturbed. Helen is struck by a sudden bolt of terror, at the thought of the things Dr Tozier must surely hear every day, when people are lulled by the hypnotically intimate environment of a dentist’s chair and a touch of the laughing gas. Oh, this is terrible. Her face is on fire.

“But they—they make products for men now,” she says, and why, oh why can’t she stop talking? “Hair dyes, I mean, if it really does bother you? I’ve seen them in Keene’s.”

“I don’t think that’s necessary,” says Dr Tozier, looking down at Richard then with a soft edge, at his bouncing noise and scabbed knees and gently curling hair like a black spaniel’s. Like his father’s. “I find I’m rather grateful for it, truth be told.”

“Plus,” he continues, as if Helen wasn’t already melting harder than the Tozier’s ice-cream, as if Johnny Kitchener the shop-boy isn’t going to have to come along with a mop and bucket to clean up on aisle seven, “Maggie’d kill me if I got rid of it.”

Then Dr Tozier winks.

Oh Lord, oh Lord, Helen’s whole ribcage is so tight she can’t squeeze out a reply, because who could blame dear, pretty, annoyingly friendly, lucky, lucky, lucky Margaret for that when Dr Wentworth Tozier DMD is so—

So f—

So fffffff—

So fiddlesticksing handsome!

“Well, we’d best not keep you, Helen. This one is in dire need of a bath before his mother sees him, and hands me a divorce on the spot,” Dr Tozier says, when another few moments have passed and all Helen can do is try to desperately smooth the creases from her breathing. He’s humming mild interest at something Richard is saying, knelt back down to the linoleum to tie the boy’s loose-worm laces presumably before he gives himself any more skinned knees, and they’re leaving. Dr Tozier is leaving, and Helen hasn’t done anything but act like a ninny this entire time. She doesn’t want him to think her a ninny, a simpleton. She wants him to leave this bright, liminal church of bold colors and jazzy waiting-room music and return to his lemon-yellow two-storey house thinking my, what a lovely chat I had with Helen Nash.

She wants to linger, as he lingers. Like an amiable spirit hanging over the women’s group at church, waiting to be summoned at a moment’s eager notice. I bumped into Dr Tozier at Palmer’s on Saturday, she’ll say to the other jealous ladies, with triumph, and we had such a nice talk. He called me Helen.

“And when—when does Margaret get home?” she blurts. A very secret part of Helen wants Dr Tozier to leave this conversation with Helen and his wife both, entwined by association in his mind. She tries very hard not to think about the Toziers divorcing, because that is un-neighbourly, and feels least neighbourly of all when a dopey, dreamy look crosses Dr Tozier’s face like a brief sunbeam at her question.

“Ah. Tonight. Not too late, hopefully.” He jerks one of his knuckley thumbs at his shopping cart, licking the other to wipe something unidentifiable from Richard’s grubby face. “That’s why we’re here, stocking up for her miraculous return. Like a couple of noble emperor penguins in Antarctica, eh Rich?”

“Penguins like from Batman! Ka-pow.”

Helen takes a peek into their cart, curiosity getting the better of her now that permission is granted. Dr Tozier might not know it, but looking into another person’s cart is bad grocery etiquette, especially in a town like Derry, where gossip grows like a fungus in every sweaty and close little huddle of people. Not that Helen would know about that. Anyway, there isn’t much to gossip about besides the unfortunately liquefied ice-cream, the severe lack of crunchy vegetables characteristic of a young man in 1981 trying to provide for a tooth-shedding son, and—

A little cardboard box. Tossed unashamedly between the Wonderbread and a magazine about sports. Prophylactics. Rubbers.

36-pack. XL

Helen knows her jaw is hanging open and strains to close it, the back of her neck and her shoulders feeling hot and tight and shuddery. She kneads a fist into her skirts. Crosses her legs at the ankles as demurely as she knows how, because the very last thing she needs is for frank, sensible Dr Tozier to see right through her with that easy doctor-patient-confidentiality smile, and know she’s soaking through her underwear at the sight of his Saturday grocery run, and all it implies.

Dr Tozier is laughing, nudging Richard in the direction of the register, or perhaps the apples. “Ka-pow is right. I’ll make sure to use that on Mom, thanks. Say hello to Rory for us, Helen. Have a nice day,” he says from over his shoulder, startling her. Holds up one long hand in a wave with a grin, and is gone, shadowing the boy’s haphazard attempts to push the cart despite not being able to see where he’s going.

Helen stands amongst the humming freezers, trembling. “You too,” she rasps, but Dr Tozier has rounded the corner, and is evidently going to have a nice day and a much nicer night, regardless of whether Helen wishes it for him or not.

All the bright little branded characters are watching her from their shelves, a silent jury. Helen Nash opens a freezer cabinet with a weak arm, and stands there for a while, staring at a leg of ham and thinking cooling, neighbourly thoughts.