#I finished the game 2 days ago and I haven been able stop thinking about it for even a second

[saelik]

The p5r brain rot is so strong that I couldn’t even enjoy RWBY’s episode, usually seeing Penny and Pyrrha would have made me sob but I only began to cry when I realized Torchwick is voiced by Billy Kametz and I had to stop every time the curious cat talked, this game has ruined my life

[xpiester333x]

And finally, to complete my yearly game posts, here's what I plan on playing in the year 2024:

1. Assemble With Care - a short little game I should be able to knock out in a few hours but I picked it up in a bundle and I have wanted to play it so I will try to knock it out this year.

2. I'm more than half way done with Baldur's Gate 3 but I likely will be playing it through January. I hope to finish it at least once before P3R.

3. Bloodborne - help.

4. Borderlands 2 - since I had such a blast playing Borderlands with my boyfriend this year, I'm looking forward to giving this game a second chance and hopefully enjoying it much more.

5. Borderlands 3 - a little less hopeful for this one, since I haven't heard much good about it, but might as well knock out the main franchise.

6. Boyfriend Dungeon - I just got this for Christmas and I'm excited for the concept of romancing my weapons :)

7. I'm also more than halfway through Catherine, so I also intend to finish that in the coming month.

8. Cat Museum - something cute and short I picked up on mega sale and want to make an effort to play this year.

9. The Coffin of Andy and Leyley - I actually have no idea what this game is about or if I'll like it but it was a gift so dammit I'll play it.

10. Dragon's Dogma 2 - Dragon's Dogma is easily in my top 10 games of all time, and I am SO hype for this game. The only downside is it's coming in March, and the first quarter of 2024 is pretty PACKED with games for me.

11. Etrian Odyssey - because I never finished it when I owned it on DS but I'm in my Atlus Games era rn so

12. Far: Lone Sails - I was drawn to this game for the art and it seems like a quick little experience of a game.

13. Final Fantasy 16 DLC - blanketing over the currently available DLC and the up and coming DLC.

14. Hades - a carry over from 2023's list but THIS WILL BE THE YEAR (maybe)

15. Haven - I don't think (?) this game is very long but it looks very heartwarming so I'm here for it this year.

16. Little Nightmares 2 - another fairly short game that I have no reason not to play, especially when I'm obsessed with the first one.

17. Little Nightmares 3 - I don't know what the release date is yet but like Borderlands let's try to close out a franchise!

18. Metaphor: ReFantazio - it doesn't even have a release date and I'm already excited about it.

21. Nier Automata - another carry over from 2023, but I have a good feeling about it this year.

19. NEO: The World Ends With You - I hear only good things about this game but I will be walking into it 98% blind.

20. Nightingale - Idk how much I'll actually play this game but my friend and I have been watching its development for years and we are READY

22. Nier Replicant - I watched a friend play some of this and it looked fun, and since I saw it was free on PS plus... why not.

23. Octopath Traveler - this is to feed my JRPG addiction but break up some of my Atlus obsession

24. Opus: Echo of Starsong - This was a gift like 2 years ago and I really want to play it through this year.

25. Persona 3 Reload - I ALREADY TOOK VACATION FOR IT IM SO READY 38 MORE DAYS

26. Persona 4 Arena - Because I think it's the only readily available Persona game I haven't played yet.

27. Sea of Stars - I'm more than half through this too, I stopped playing it to play Tactica so I'll be finishing this soon as well.

28. Shin Megami Tensei 3: Nocturne - I put a fair amount of time into it this year, and I adore this game. I'm finishing it next year.

29. Shin Megami Tensei 5 - for real this year, I promise (🤞)

31. Undertale - why have I not played this? Why did it sit on my list last year untouched? Why did I install it and never play it? The world may never know.

30. Soul Hackers 2 - because again, I'm in my Atlus Games era and I bought it this year so time to play it.

32. Untitled Goose Game - for casual hijinks

I'm even more ambitious this year than last year and thats without knowing even half of whats to be released in 2024 sooo wish me luck.

[alwaysachorusgirl]

Of Wolves and Witches

Pairing: Werewolf!Bishop Losa x Witch!Reader

Word Count: 3088

For: covers the monster square for @adarafaelbarba 's moodboard fall bingo

TW: violence and accidental death via a nightmare/flashback sequence, brief mentions of mental, emotion, and physical abuse, PTSD, and covering up a crime scene

Author's Notes: The Mayans Werewolf AU that no one asked for, but i wrote it anyway. It starts out dark, but ends with fluff, I promise. This is my first time writing for Bishop, so please go easy on me... a big thank you to @itsjustmyfantasyroom for letting me run this idea by her and reassuring me that it wasn't crazy, and for encouraging me to write it.

Tags: @madamsnape921; @prurientpuddlejumper; @thatesqcrush; @welcometothemxdhouse; @raulesparza4eva; @teamsladsandgents; @rosequcrtz

He stormed into your living room, rage storming in his eyes. His aura was a swirling void of red and black. He shouldn’t have been able to break the locks on your front door, he shouldn’t have been able to walk right through your magical wards, but here he was. You straightened your posture and stood your ground, determined to not let him see how terrified you were.

“How did you get in here?”

“Really?” He pulled a glowing amulet from out of his shirt. “Not that hard when you have a little help. Benefits of having hunters for friends.”

Your eyes went wide as you realized what you were looking at. It was an enchanted amulet, one strong enough to get through your warding. You could only hope that it wasn’t strong enough to dampen your powers.

“Yeah, that’s right,” he smirked. “I know what you are. Makes me a wonder what else you haven’t been telling me.”

“Alex, get out! I don’t want to hurt you, but I will if I have to.”

“You little bitch!” he spat back. “You think you can just break up me? You think you can just walk away?

“I can and I did. We’re done, Alex, it’s over. You don’t get to hurt me anymore. It’s not my fault that your fragile, insecure male ego can’t take a fucking hint.”

“Bitch, I’ll fucking hurt you whenever I fucking want to! And I don’t see your little biker friends here to protect you.…”

Then he charged, and suddenly you were on the ground with his hands around your throat.

“Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live!”

You could feel the murderous intent radiating off him, and put your hands on his chest, trying to push him off you, but then you felt the release of kinetic energy through your palms, and Alex was flying across the room. He hit the wall, and you prayed to whatever goddess was listening that the sickening crack you heard was just the drywall breaking behind him. But then his eyes rolled back in his head, and his head lolled to one side, at what could only be described as an “unhealthy looking” angle. His lower body twitched a few times before going limp. He hung there for a moment, suspended in the air, pinned to the wall by your invisible force. Still shaking in terror, you finally lowered your hands, and Alex’s lifeless body fell to the ground with a thud.

*********************

“No!” you cried out, sitting bolt upright on your couch. You were covered in a cold sweat and your whole body was shaking. Your lungs gasped for air and your eyes darted around the room, searching for Alex, but he wasn’t there. You weren’t even in your old house anymore. You held your hand in your hands and took deep breaths. You were in your apartment, in Santo Padre, Alex was dead, and you were safe. The Saturday afternoon sun streamed in through the window, and the TV was still on, a marathon of Guy’s Grocery Games playing at a low volume.

“I must have fallen asleep,” you said softly to yourself, “it was only a nightmare.”

You grabbed your phone off the coffee table and checked the time. It was only 3:30, plenty of time to shower and freshen up before Bishop would pick you up at 6. You stood, and after checking your locks and wards, made your way to the bathroom.

***********************

Despite your best efforts to push them down, the memories of what happened next came flooding back as you stood under the warm shower spray. You had been in shock, understandably so, but you were now exposed as a witch, and had to protect yourself. The logical side of your brain kicked in and you got to work. After verifying that Alex was dead, you had used your telekinetic abilities to rip the amulet off his neck. A quick examination verified that it had only been enchanted enough to allow Alex to breach your magical wards without getting zapped, but not enough to block your own powers. The enchantment was also crude and amateurish, probably done in haste by someone with limited knowledge of witchcraft. He had mentioned having hunters for friends, and you cursed yourself for not sensing that sooner. He hadn’t been one himself. You would have read that in his aura the moment you met him, but you also hadn’t sensed his dark side. The mentally and emotionally abusive and manipulative side, the one that turned violent during an argument when you had tried to call him out on his bullshit and break up with him the first time. You had ended up in the hospital, and when you confronted him the second time, you had friends with you to back you up. And after destroying the amulet, those were the friends you called on for help with your predicament.

The Blood Moon Motorcycle Club was a found family werewolf pack, led by Jack Reynard, a fearsome and intimidating Alpha. But Jack was fiercely protective of his friends and allies and didn’t hesitate to show up with four of his most trusted lieutenants when you called and tearfully explained your situation. They got to work cleaning up the scene and going through Alex’s phone and wallet. They found a business card for an elite and dangerous organization of hunters, and the contact’s name and number on the card matched up with one of the contacts in Alex’s phone. Jack told you to start packing your bags and to make sure that you included any magical artifacts that you had. You would spend the night at their clubhouse under round-the-clock security, and in the morning, they would get you out of town. Anything that couldn’t be packed that night would be shipped to you once you were settled elsewhere. They would dispose of the body; it wasn’t the first time they’d had to do so.

Jack had called Bishop Losa, president of the Mayans Motorcycle Club in Santo Padre, California. Jack and Bishop had served together in the Marines in their younger days, and the Mayans and the Blood Moons were allies as a result of that friendship. The Mayans were another found family werewolf pack and protected Santo Padre alongside the Galindo Pack. The town was a safe haven for all supernatural beings and the humans who lived there were none the wiser.

And now you had been here for six months. You worked in a bookshop owned by another a witch, Matilda, and lived in the apartment above it. In addition to the books, you also sold your homemade herbal teas and did Tarot card readings in the shop. 2-3 times a week you would bake cookies and muffins and sell those in the shop. Your teas were so popular that you now did tea making demonstrations on Saturday mornings. You were thriving but were still plagued by nightmares and PTSD and attended therapy once a week to help you work through your struggles.

And then there was Bishop. At first, the Mayan president and Alpha had been your friend and protector. You had been too traumatized to even think about pursuing a relationship, and so you both denied the unquestionable and inexplicable attraction. The more you got to know each other, the more you were drawn to each other. Two months ago, he finally made a move while the two of you had been outside getting some air at a party at the Mayans clubhouse, asking if he could kiss you. You’d been a couple ever since.

*********************

You had just finished lacing up your boots when you heard the sound of a familiar motorcycle pull up to your building. You ran to the window and looked down to the street. You saw Bishop getting off his bike and removing his helmet. You exited your apartment and ran down the stairs, meeting him at the entrance at the side of the building. You threw your arms around his neck and kissed his lips. His arms encircled your waist and pulled you close.

“Hola Querida, you look beautiful.”

“Thanks, you’re not too bad, yourself, handsome.”

That got a chuckle from the Alpha. He removed one of his arms from around your back, revealing the bouquet of roses in his hand. “These are for you.”

“Bish, they’re gorgeous, thank you. You shouldn’t have.”

“And pass up the opportunity to surprise you? Not a chance.”

“Come on up. I’ll put these in water, grab a few things, then I’ll be ready to go.”

Bishop nodded and held onto your hand as he followed you up the stairs.

************************

You held onto Bishop as the two of you went speeding down the back roads, away from Santo Padre. You loved dates like this: just you and Bishop on the bike, heading somewhere unknown, away from all the stress and bullshit of the day-to-day. His torso felt warm, sturdy, and safe. You could feel the vibrations from bike rattling through your body as you watched the scenery fly by. You’d been on the road for at least half an hour now.

“Almost there, Querida,” Bishop called back. “You’re gonna love this spot, I promise.”

After a few more minutes he pulled off the road and the motorcycle slowed to a stop. Bishop turned off the engine and stored the keys in his pocket. You both got off and removed your helmets. You looked around at the small, wooded area and smiled, breathing in the fresh air.

“This is nice, babe.”

“Oh, this isn’t the spot, “he told you, unlatching the soft fleece blanket and cooler from the back of his bike. He handed you the blanket. He took the cooler in one hand and grabbed your free hand with his other, interlacing his fingers with yours. “It’s this way.”

You walked for a few minutes down a short path before finally arriving at a grassy clearing. The view was breathtaking. You could see everything from your elevated perched; Santo Padre, the valley, green leafy trees swaying in the breeze, fields of wildflowers. A sense of calm settled over you that you hadn’t felt in months. You didn’t jump when Bishop came up behind you and slid his arms around your mid-section, instead relaxing into his touch and leaning against his sturdy frame. Bishop softly kissed your shoulder.

“You okay, baby?”

“Yeah,” you sighed, “this is perfect, this place in perfect. The energy here is so peaceful, and so alive. I love it.”

“I’m glad. I was thinking we could eat dinner, watch the sunset? And wait until the stars come out…You can show me all the constellations?”

You turned and slid your arms around his neck, resting your forehead against his.

“You would have thought that you were such a romantic?”

“Just don’t tell anyone, okay? Gotta maintain my tough guy image, you know?”

“Mmm…your secret is safe with me.” You pecked his lips once, twice, three times, each kiss lasting a bit longer than the rest. When you finally pulled your head away you noticed that the blanket was laid out on the ground with cooler sitting on top.

“Come on,” said Bishop, directing you over to it. You both sat down, and Bishop opened the cooler and started setting out its contents: sandwiches from the local deli, fresh strawberries from the farmer’s market, giant cupcakes from the gourmet bakery, a bottle of beer for each of you, and bottled water. He popped the caps off the beer bottles and handed you one. “Cheers.”

The two of you sat and ate, completely at ease with each other, and the conversation flowed easily. Bishop told you about the day’s antics down at the scrapyard, and you told him about the business plan you and Matilda were working on to expand the bookshop into the empty café next door.

“The theory is, that having a space to sell food and drinks will drum up more business. I can sell my tea and baked goods and do my demonstrations there. We would obviously need to hire some extra people to help, but I think we can make it work. We can’t tear down the wall between the buildings and expand without the proper permits.”

“I’m sure the town will approve whatever permits you need. They’re not going to say to ‘no’ to something that will bring more business into Santo Padre.”

“Wow, you weren’t kidding about the sunsets,” you said, gazing at the red, orange, and purple hues of the evening sky. “How did you find this place?”

Bishop laid down on the blanket and you stretched out next him, placing your head on his chest.

“Me and the guys had just come back from a run,” he began, “Things didn’t go so well, and I was pissed, needed to blow off some steam so I just rode around for a while. Next thing I knew, I was here. I shifted, ran around for a while until my head was clear. I come back whenever I need to get away from everything.”

You tilted your head up to meet his gaze. “Thank you for bringing me here. I needed this.”

Bishop caressed your cheek with his fingers. “You’re welcome, Querida. I’ll bring you up here whenever you want.”

“Bish, can I ask you a personal question?”

“Of course, Querida, you can ask me anything,” he replied with a chuckle.

“Can I see you in your wolf form sometime? There’s no pressure, only if you want to…”

Bishop mulled the question over in his head. You had caught him off guard with the query. None of the women he’d ever been with had asked to see his wolf form, not even his ex-wife. These days, he only shifted when it was absolutely necessary. There were advantages to being an older and more experienced wolf. He could shift at will and didn’t have to worry about losing control. But what if you didn’t like what you saw? What if he scared you away? He’d never forgive himself if that happened. Your soft, sweet voice interrupted his thoughts.

“Bish, I’m sorry, forget I said anything- “

“No, it’s okay,” he kissed your forehead, “I just wasn’t expecting that question. I’ll do it if you want me to, but just be prepared, okay? I promise I won’t hurt you, but it might not be what you’re expecting.”

“I trust you completely, and I promise, I won’t be scared.” You looked at his aura and saw the hesitancy there. He was scared. “You’re not going to lose me.”

He cupped your face with his hand and his lips found purchase with yours. He had a way of kissing you that made your mind go blank and get lost in the moment, and you loved every minute of it. You kissed him back with equal fervor, hoping that somehow you were able to convey the trust and faith you had in him. The smile on his face when you broke away seemed to indicate that you’d been successful.

Bishop rose and walked a few feet away.

“What are you doing?” you asked, confused by his actions.

“Shifting is a lot easier without clothes on,” he replied with a wink, beginning to undress.

“I’ll close my eyes and give you some privacy then,” you giggled, shutting your eyes, but occasionally cracking one open to steal glimpses of his increasingly naked form; and damn if you didn’t like what you saw!

Bishop finished disrobing and crouched down on the soft grass. He breathed deeply and cleared his mind, focusing his intention. He felt his muscle start to ripple and his joints and bones shift. It didn’t hurt at his age; it was just slightly uncomfortable. All his senses sharpened. Body hair became fur, his hands and feet morphed into oversize paws with razor sharp claws. Even his teeth changed shaped, becoming longer and more pointed. A few moments later, he stretched and shook out his fur. He looked over towards you, still sitting there with your eyes closed, and cautiously padded toward you.

************************

You could hear the footfalls of his paws, and then felt his large wet nose nudging your arm. You opened your eyes and saw a massive wolf standing before you. His fur was brown and black, with specks of gray in various places. His legs were strong, and his paws appeared large enough to take out a person with one blow. But his eyes, his eyes were gentle, and you would know them anywhere.

“Oh, Bishop, you’re beautiful!”

He sat and cocked his head to one side, appearing confused.

“Yes, you heard me correctly. May I?” You held out your arms to him. Bishop bowed his head and leaned forward, allowing you to embrace him and bury your face in his fur. “Your fur is so soft!”

He put his head on your shoulder and let out a contented groan when your fingers began to massage the spot right between his ears. You giggled at that. “I take it you like that, huh?” Bishop lifted his head and licked your face in response, making you laugh even harder. You massaged his head for a little while longer before resting your forehead against his. “Thank you for letting me see you like this. I love you, Bishop.”

There was suddenly a very naked, human man in your arms. Bishop’s hands cupped your face, his eyes scanning it for any indication that he might have misheard you.

“Bish- “

“Say that again, Querida.”

“I said, I love you, Obispo Losa.”

Bishop pulled you into his lap and pressed his lips to yours, kissing you with more intensity and tenderness than he ever had before. Any doubts that you may have had about him not feeling the same quickly melted away. It went on for what felt like forever before the two of you had to pull away and come up for air.

“I love you, too, mi reina.”

You held onto one another like that for while before Bishop got dressed and rejoined you on the blanket. You spent the rest of the evening wrapped in each other’s arms and gazing at the night sky. And when a shooting star passed overhead, you made a wish that you could stay this way forever. No more looking over your shoulder, no more nightmares; just you and Bishop, ready to take on whatever the future might hold.

[zoequeenz]

Compulsion (Part 1)

A/N: SO, a little bit of this chapter and all of the pilot is a bit different from how I have written some of the newer chapters. It is a bit funky but I like to say I have changed it and now have a better writing style. I would also like to mention there is a flashback at the beginning that is why the first part is a little odd. Enjoy :)

MASTERLIST

PREVIOUS CHAPTER 

(TRIGGER WARNING: mentions sexual assault)

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Previously on Criminal Minds…

‘Anyone recognize these faces?’

‘Victims of the footpath killer”

“That’s what Virginia newspapers are calling him.”

“We refer to him at the “unknown subject” or “Unsub.”

“I told Virginia P.D., they’re looking for a white male in his 20’s, who owns an american-made truck, works a menial job.”

“I told ‘em when you find him, don’t be surprised to hear him speak with a severe stutter.”

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(Jason Gideon’s POV) (Still in flashback)

I had just finished paying for my gas and I knew I had caught him.

“Have a n-i-nice day.” stuttered the Footpath Killer.

I then walk out, only to be followed.

“The gun.”

“T-ta-take out the gun.” he demands in a non-threatening voice. But I do.

“Th-throw it.” he says.

“Any particular direction?” I ask. He then hits the back of my knee sending me to the floor. He takes me inside then slams me up against a wall.

“Who-who are y-”

“Who are you?”

Who are you?” he asks over and over.

“FBI.” I admit.

“T-t-t”

“Take out your w- your w-wallet.” he demands and I do.

“Wh-what- what do you kn-.”

“What do you know?” he asked.

“About you?” I question.

“Or about the people you’ve murdered?”

“I know a lot about you. I know how you do it. I know you can’t stop. And I know something that no one’s ever been able to tell you… I know why you stutter.”

(Back in the Office)

“Weren’t you a little bit worried he might just shoot you?” a trainee asks.

“I was a lot worried.” I tell her.

“But how did you find him?” another asks.

“I was just stopping for gas.” I say.

“I walked into that store, and saw pieces of a profile that I’d given to Virginia P.D. almost a year ago. Truck in disrepair, a devilish young man, severe stutter.” I say.

“James Reese once said, “there are certain clues at a crime scene which, by their very nature, do not lend themselves to being collected or examined.” I tell them.

“How does one collect love, rage, hatred, fear?” I asks.

“These are things that we’re trained to look for.” I state.

“So anyone else would have just seen a guy who stutters, but you saw the footpath killer.” the third trainee says.

‘Right. But sometimes these guys are still found by just dumb luck.” I say.

“Berkowitz was caught because of a parking ticket.”

“Except the cop wasn’t staring down a shotgun like you were.” Elle says.

“This is true. This is also good time to stop.” I tell them.

“Thank you sir.” a trainee says.

“Thank you.” I say.

“Okay, I’m curious. Why did he stutter?” Elle asks.

“You’re on your way to becoming part of the behavior analysis team now, Elle. You tell me.” I tell her.

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Persephone Chase’s POV

“Spencer this is boring, chess is not a fun game.” I tell him as I watch from the desk across from the genius boy.

“Percy, it passes time quicker and builds my logic skill.” he replies.

“Like you need to build on that.” I say sassily.

“Check. Checkmate 3 moves.” Gideon says moving a piece off the board. I laugh.

“What…” Spencer says confused.

“You know you’ll beat him when you start learning.” Derek says making me laugh harder, which also leads Spencer to make this weird face.

“Learning what?” he asks.

“To think outside the box.” Derek tells him.

He looks at me and all I can do is give him a sympathetic look.

“Hey, you can still beat everyone else on the team.” I say.

“Yeah, except Gideon.” Spencer sighs in defeat.

“Question for you.” Elle says walking in.

“Shoot.” Derek says.

“The footpath killer, why did he stutter?” she asks.

“Come on Elle, we’ve all asked him, and he won’t say.” Derek tells the brunette.

“Yeah, even our favorite genius doesn’t know.” I say mocking Spencer.

“He wants us to figure it out.” I continue.

“Okay. I’m up for a challenge.” she speaks confidently.

“Good, because these go to you.” JJ says putting down a plethora of files.

“Special Agent Jennifer Jareau, JJ if you like.” JJ says introducing herself.

“Elle…”

“Greenaway-highest number of solved cases in Seattle 3 years running, specialty in sex offender cases.” JJ says.

“Not bad.” Elle comments in a surprised tone.

“Well, I’m the unit liaison. My specialty is untangling bureaucratic knots. You’ll probably be talking to me a lot. My door’s always open, mostly because I’m never in my office, so just call me on my cell, okay? We’ll talk.” JJ explained.

“Did you watch?” she asks Hotch how hastily replied “Yeah.”

“Think everybody should see it.”

“BAU team, can you meet me in the conference room, please? I need to show you something.” Hotch more like tells instead of asks.

We all walk to the conference room, of course like always I sit next to my best friend.

“This is from the Phoenix office, Bradshaw College in Tempe, 6 fires in 7 months.” Hotch tells us.

“Who recorded it?” Gideon asks.

“A student with a digital camcorder.He was watching a fire in the building across from their dorm. The other person you’ll see is his roommate, 20 year old Matthew Rowland.” JJ says.

(VIDEO)= Underlined

“This is crazy. Hey, Matt, get over here. You gotta see this. The buildings on fire.” one of the students said.

“Bro, you getting this?” Matt asked in amazement.

“Is that the kid?” Gideon asks. “Yeah, that’s him.” Hotch answers.

“Relax man. There’s always fires during rush week.” the unnamed student says.

“Yeah, but that’s pretty big.” another student says.

“Dude, over here. Check this out. What is it?” Matt asks.

“I don’t know, but it’s coming underneath the door.” the camera kid says.

“Is someone in the hallway?” Matthew asks.

“Hey, someone’s trying to get in.” Matthew continues.

“Hey, man, you should get away from there.” the cameraman says.

“Oh, my god! It smells like gas.” Matthew said,

“Oh, god! God! Oh, my god! Oh, my god!” both boys said as Matthew went up in flames.

“Put me out! Oh, my god! Oh, god! Help.” exclaimed Matthew.

“Einstein once said:”Imagination is more important than knowledge.Knowledge is limited. Imagination encircles the world.”

“There are two common stressors for a serial arsonist.” Spencer says as he plays chess.

“Loss of job, loss of love.” I say engrossed in his game.

“When was the first fire set?” Derek asks.

“March, Uh, the next one was May, and the third one wasn’t ‘till September, then 2 weeks there were 3 in one night.” Hotch answers.

“He’s speeding up. Fire’s are closer together.” Gideon says.

“Hey, Reid, you got a statistic on arsonists?” Derek asks.

“Derek what do you think.” I say mocking him earning an eye roll from Derek.

“What do you got Reid?” Derek asks annoyed.

“82%, are white males between 17 and 27. Female arsonists are far less likely, their motive typically being revenge.” Spencer informs us, and I can’t help but fall for my partner even more. I guess scrawny genius nerds are my type.

“Sounds like our boy’s a student.” Derek concludes.

“Don’t be so sure.” Gideon says out of the blue.

He continues “You rely too much on precedent, you never allow for the unexpected...if he went from setting one fire to three in two weeks time…”

“Rapid escalation.” Hotch said for him.

“He’s gone from the power to damage a building to something far more satisfying...the power over life and death.” Gideon says.

Derek sits down to a pamphlet about about the school whilst Gideon and Hotch continue on.

“Who we talking to first?” Gideon asks.

“Dean of students, Helen Turner.” Hotch answers.

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We have landed and made it to the college. Everyone gets out but I hesitate, I hated college. I didn’t hate the learning no. I hated the people. Mostly my boyfriend and his stupid frat brothers. I of course being the dumb freshman fell in love with the most popular guy there. Wrong choice!! He ended up drugging me at a party, he and his friends ended up taking advantage of me whilst I was vulnerable. Even worse was that was my first time too. I was mortified when I found out but like most people I was too scared to bring him to court and never did, I ended up switching colleges. I have yet to tell anyone besides Derek who I know shares a similar past. That is why I am scared to get out of this car. It's like a safe haven at the moment.

“Hey, where is Chase?” Hotch asks.

“Still in the car.” Reid says.

“Well tell her to get out we have a case.” Hotch says annoyed.

“I’ll get her.” Morgan says.

“But I-” Reid begins.

“Trust me pretty boy, I need to handle this one.” Derek says walking to my car door.

“Hey little one, you need to come out.” he tries coaxing me out.

“Derek please, I can’t...you know what happened.” I plead.

“Hun I know but you’ve got to put on that facade and help with the case it’s your job.”

“Besides, no one is gonna hurt you anymore. You’ve got Reid and I to protect you.” He tells me.

“Fine.” I say and take a deep breath.

We walk over to the team.

“Sorry, I got side tracked.” I announce.

“Tell me later Chase.” Hotch says and I nod.

“No badges. I don’t want to satisfy the unsub’s need for attention by letting him know he got the FBI here. Try not to look official.” Gideon says while we walk into the school.

We stop at the steps and he turns then looks at us then says…

“Try to look less official.”

I giggle. Derek, Elle, and Hotch are in formal clothing and here is Spencer and I in what I would call casual clothing. He brings Ellen out and we being to speak with her while walking.

“Obviously, I’d rather be meeting you under different circumstances.” she says.

“This is fire inspector Zhang.”  she adds on leaning her head towards an asian man.

“This morning the chemistry department reported several bottles of highly flammable chemicals missing.” he informed us.

“I’m prepared to evacuate this campus.” she tells us adding on a “Thank you.” to Gideon and Hotch for opening the doors.

“That brings with it its own problems.” Hotch says.

“You might evacuate the arsonist as well.” Gideon adds.

“Then the case goes unsolved.” I say.

“The campus is reopened, but the fires start up again.” Elle finishes for me.

“Hotch, Gideon hold on a second.” Derek says.

“You said the chemicals went missing today.” he asked the fire inspector.

“Uh huh.” Zhang answered.

“It says here that one of the previous fires was set with diesel fuel that disappeared from the grounds keeping facility.” Derek stated.

“How long after it disappeared was the fire set?”

“One day.” Helen answered.

“If he’s holding to a pattern…”Gideon says walking away with Hotch.

“Who’s to says the next fire won’t be today?” Hotch finishes.

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We then get to the crime scene. It actually wasn’t that bad. Of course there are clear signs that a fire was here but it wasn’t burnt beyond recognition.

“Door was locked.” Hotch says.

“Matthew Rowland and his roommate watched as the door knob turned against the lock.” Spencer adds.

“But the unsub couldn’t get in.” I say.

“So he pours the accelerant into the room from the hallway.” Spencer adds.

“Which means he couldn’t see the fire.” Hotch says with a confused expression.

“ But he could hear Matthew Rowland screaming.” Spencer adds.

“Yeah, but not for long.” I say.

“He would have left quickly.” Hotch says.

“Yeah, to avoid being spotted.” Spencer states.

“It doesn’t make sense.” I say.

“Pyromania as a mental disorder may just be a simple myth, but we know from precedent that serial arsonists derive pleasure from pathological firesetting.” Spencer informs us.

It makes my knees grow weak for a second. This boy is gonna kill me before I am even close to death. I still have no idea why I like when he says random facts.

“Sex and power.” Hotch adds.

“But a serial arsonists wouldn’t just set a fire and walk away.” I state.

“He needs to experience it.” Hotch tells us.

“So why would he set a fire he couldn’t watch?” Spencer asks.

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“He turned the water off just before the fire.”  Zhang says while opening a box with a phone, a flashlight, and another item inside.

“The last three were set with these. Two devices, simultaneous ignition.”

“There was no device used on Matthew Rowland.” Gideon says.

“Unsub set that one manually?”

“He wanted to be there to enjoy the kid’s death.” Derek says.

“Not necessarily.” Hotch argues.

“Well, if the target was Matthew Rowland, then why set the other two fires?” Elle asks.

“The motives for arson are relatively simple.” Spencer says.

“There’s vandalism, crime concealment, political statement, profit…”

“And revenge.” Hotch says finishing Spencer’s sentence.

“We interviewed Matthew Rowland’s roommate. No reason for revenge.” Zhang tells us.

“What about vandalism?” Ellen asks.

“No. The fires are too sophisticated, and if he’s trying to make a political statement, he’s not being too clear about it.” Elle says.

“There’s an underlying strategy in this case.” I add.

“Matthew, firefighters, injured victims.” Gideon begins.

“To the unsub, they’re not people. They’re…”

“They’re objects.”  Hotch finishes.

“More like, uh…” Gideon beings only to be cut off by Spencer.

“Chess pieces.”

“Exactly.” Gideon says throwing a burnt MP3 player back on the table.  

NEXT CHAPTER 

[championofsanghelios]

Gay Writer over here (*waves*)

So I’ve been writing from basically the moment I was able to pick up a pencil and write straight on a piece of lined paper. In my Primary School (I live in the UK/ It’s the one before what everyone else called “High School”) we were given what were called “diaries”, little jotters that we could write down our day-to-day activities into and get marks from our teacher. I used to always get into trouble because instead of writing what we had been up to on that particular day, or when we came back on Mondays and were supposed to be writing about our weekends, I was writing all the fanciful ideas that came into my 5-6 year old noggin. Back in the day I was a huge fan of Halo (the game franchise) and I often found myself writing about things I had either done in the games, or coming up with my own little scenarios and scenes. Naturally they wouldn’t have been very good but I had fun doing them...and after a while, one of the teachers (I honestly can’t remember which one, though I’ve tried) got me my own separate jotter to write in. Ultimately it proved to me a major distraction for me, and eventually there had to be a set time and place during my school hours where I could write in it and others when I couldn’t. That used to vex little me so much...there were even days when I’d sneak it home, only to come in the next day and receive the stink-eye from my teacher. As I grew older and finished Primary School, moving onto Secondary School (or High School) my mind had developed to the point where I knew almost exactly what I wanted to write, though my execution and grasp of the English language wasn’t as...acute...as they appear to be now. I used to write things in Script/Screenplay format. Something that looks sort of like this (Using a modern day example.) --- Link: (-signing-) I’ve always hated those Bokoblins. They make good bacon though. Sidon: -gasp- You eat Bokoblins!? Link looks at him, his eyes widening a fraction. Link: (-signing-) Yeah...-shrug-...what about it? --- I used this style of writing for years, and I mean years. It was a really easy and simple way for me to convey the scene/situation quickly and get it out of my head before it either faded/changed too much or I forgot it completely. However as I started to really take this hobby seriously and it became something fundamentally important to not only for passing time, but for what I later came to know as my own expressive/coping mechanism, I realized that quickly that I wanted to develop it...and get better. About 2 years ago (yes it took that long for me to get there) I dropped the Script/Screenplay Format as a default and started using the more appropriate and ultimately better looking and sounding Prose format. --- (I’ve always hated those Bokoblins...) Link signs, his face contorted in disgust for a moment at the brief thought of the buggers. He then seems to smirk, even smile, and shrugs. (...they make good bacon though.) “You eat Bokoblins!?” Prince Sidon’s head snaps towards him, his eyes thrown wide and his mouth parted slightly in a gasp. (Yeah...) Link signs back. (What about it?) --- As you can see it’s allot better than the previous version. Prose allows for extensive description and much more dialogue between the characters, as well as detailed descriptions of their actions, moods, feelings and thoughts. Something that was probably possible with the previous format, but I never could unlock it. Oh Yeah! The name of this post is “Gay Writer over here” !!!! Whoops! (May have gone on a tangent there...sorry about that  :3) So as I reached my adolescence, or puberty if we’re using small words, I was not only become aware of how big and bad the world could and would be, but I was becoming aware of who I was and my place in it...namely my labels in the modern society we still call “21st Century Britain”. Around about my third year in High School, I came to the realization that I may be what people called “Gay”, something that I’m more than happy to share with anybody who asks, or in this case, spread it around the internet because who honestly cares, but something at the time I was more than ashamed and confused about. We’ve all had those terms and expressions in High School that were often associated with something that wasn’t cool, or part of the normal conventions of High School social life...and one of the words for that was “Gay” or “Homo”. Knowing that I actually was both of those really did have an effect on me in some way. I suppressed my sexuality and kept to myself, when people would ask about girlfriends and the like, I’d laugh it off and say “When I’m ready.” or “I don’t have any interest in that right now”. Just occasionally someone would call me out for being “Gay.” or a “Shirt-Lifter.” which in Scotland means someone of the Homosexual persuasion. (Yeah...I don’t know either...I’ve never been in the habit of lifting my shirt to anyone...) It took a long time for me to get over the feelings of insecurity and shame that came with it. I felt like I was an outcast, I wasn’t right and I didn’t belong to the same groups of people as everyone else did. Oh! I should probably preface this by saying that I’m not only Gay, but I’m autistic. I have what Doctors called up until recently “Asperger's Syndrome.” something that I’ve known about for years. One of the ways that I got through my mental torment/struggle over this (and it really was for me, being autistic I fixated on it...it was my every waking moment, and it was in my dreams) was to write about it in my stories. I started to write stories with gay male characters, and writing scenes were they were marginalized and cast out by others just for being who they were. This did help...it gave me a place to put out all my thoughts and feelings on the topic without the need to talk to people about it, or cause a big fuss. Internalized Homophobia became a favorite thing of mine...mainly because for a time I lived it. However as my High School years wound on, and we reached out Senior Years, with age came maturity, and with maturity came acceptance. Those people who used to poke fun at me for being “Gay” and the like were now openly welcoming it, some of them even coming out to us themselves. It’s at that point that things really started to change for me. My perceptions of myself and my sexuality shifted and I learned that it wasn’t a problem. I couldn’t help how I was born...and I certainly shouldn’t be ashamed of myself because I haven to love men instead of women. Around this time I started writing pretty much how I writer now. I’d take characters from the games that I loved and would make them have relationships with others... Watch Dogs  -- Aiden Pearce/Defalt Mass Effect -- Male Shepard/Steve Cortez Halo -- The Arbiter/Fal ‘Zolak (an OC of mine) I didn’t truly admit to my sexuality until shortly after I left High School and entered my College years. However I think by the end of it people knew who I was, based on what they’d observed of me over the years...or the stories they’d read. I remember one of my friends at one point asking me “Are you gay?” and instead of blanking it or laughing it off I just said “Maybe, I don’t know.” ... a partial admission of sorts. Writing has always been a huge part of my life, it’s helped me through some of the hardest times, and entertained me during the best. It’s allowed me to express myself to the world without fear of reprisal or condemnation. It’s saved me from the realms of depression and self-destructive thoughts. It’s quite simply the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I don’t think I will ever truly stop. I don’t write to make money, or to be famous or to make a name for myself...I write because I love it, and honestly nothing will ever change that... On the note of my sexuality... June for me, is not only about being proud of who you are, but about accepting everyone, no matter their gender, their sexuality, their race, their background and origins. It’s about showing love for your fellow human beings and being proud to be a part of the world during the 21st Century. Sure there are some bad eggs, there always will be...for various reasons. But they are the minority...and hopefully one day, they’ll all join the majority, and we can all live together without the labels and prejudices of yester-years to stand in our way. ... Rambling over...-wipes sweat from forehead-...thanks for reading through that. I know it was sort of out of the blue and all over the shop. But this is what’s been on my mind today, and I thought about writing it down. Be Safe, Be Well... I love you all (^.^)/

[solei28]

Coffee, Pie, You-Chapter 4

Your eyes went wide as Tony Stark came up to the counter. Holy shit! It’s Ironman and Captain America and Falcon!! What were the Avengers doing at your little kiosk?

Tony gave you that signature smile. “Hello, dear. It would seem you're the reason the Manchurian Candidate here has put on a few pounds.”

“I have not!” James protested standing up.

Tony didn’t even look behind him. He just waved his hand dismissively. “ Anyway, do you have a menu I can browse?”

You nodded your head, mouth slightly open and handed him a menu from behind the counter. You were at a complete loss for words. What does one say to Ironman, anyway?

Tony was enjoying the look on your face. “Is everything alright, dear? You haven’t said a word since we got here.”

You closed your eyes and shook your head. “I-I’m fine. I just- I mean, your Ironman, I mean Tony Stark, uh, Mr. Stark,” you stammered.

“Yes, I am. And, you can call me Tony,” he said sticking his hand out.

“Y/N,” you squeaked shaking his hand.

Tony’s smile grew wider. “I’m sure you know who these 2 are.” He gestured at Steve and Sam.

You nodded. Steve came over to you first and shook your hand. “Pleasure to meet you,” he said with a boyish smile.

“It’s an honor, Captain,” you managed in a normal tone.

Steve laughed. “Please, just call me Steve.”

Sam shook your hand next. “Can I just say how excited I am to finally try one of these treats?”

You tilted your head confused. “Why?”

“Because Bucky refuses to share,” Sam said glaring at the man.

This made you laugh. “Is that so? Hogging all the treats for yourself, eh, Buchanan?”

Steve gave his friend a smug look. “Buchanan has been selfish.”

James went red and he hid behind his long locks. He mumbled under his breath and sat back down. “Hurry up and order something so you all can leave.” He began shoveling food into his mouth.

“Um, is that the only seat, Y/N?” Tony asked.

“Yeah. Sorry, I don’t have anymore,” you said frowning.

“It’s fine. We’ll bring our own next time.” Tony was making sure to press all of James’s buttons.

James looked up at him, eyes intense, his mouth a thin line. “There won’t be a next time, Stark,” his warning was low.

“You are very selfish, Buchanan,” Tony emphasized his name with an evil smirk. Looking back at you, he said, “Can I have a bacon, egg and cheese, dear?”

“Coming right up!” you beamed at him.

James was annoyed at the fact that they were there, but seeing the way you lit up was well worth it. Cooking made you happy and happy looked so damned good on you.

Steve came over to stand by James and looked at what was left in his plate. “Whatcha got there, Buck?” he asked with genuine interest.

James told him what it was. “It’s really good. Never had an omelet like this before.”

Sam had taken the menu from Tony and was looking it over. “Hey, I don’t see that on here.”

“It’s part of the secret menu,” you teased over your shoulder. “Only, frequent customers get access to it.”

Steve was wearing that smug look again. “Looks like we gotta come here more often.” He chuckled at James’s face. “Stop being selfish, Buchanan.”

“Stop calling me that, punk,” James mumbled. He got up and walked over to the counter with his empty plate and cup. “Hey, doll. Can I get a refill?”

You turned smiling at him. “Of course. Just give me a sec.” You took the cup and plate from him. You turned back and finished up Tony’s sandwich. “Order’s up.”

Tony sauntered over to the counter. “I’ll have a cup of coffee, too. Cream, 3 sugars.”

“Sure. Small, medium, or large?” You ask as you made James’s coffee.

“Medium should suffice.” Tony looked at Sam and Steve. “Are you 2 gonna order, or what?”

Sam made his way to the counter first. “Yeah. Can I have the Curious Breakfast? That sounds interesting.”

“Sure thing.” You were handing James and Tony their coffees when you looked at Steve. “What would you like, Cap?”

“I wanna try what Bucky had, but it’s my first time here, so,” Steve gave you puppy dog eyes.

You threw your head back and laughed. They may be Avengers, but they definitely acted like children from this display. “I’ll let it slide since you’re an Avenger.”

Steve smiled widely. “Thank you, Y/N!”

Tony took a sip of his coffee. “Wow, this is great. Best coffee I have ever had,” he said astonished.

James nodded his head in agreement. “Wait till you try the food.” He winced at the thought. Now, they’ll be here all the time and that upset him. This had become a safe haven for him. He just wanted to spend some time with you after the Siberia mission. It had left him feeling uneasy and his nightmares had gotten worse since they got back 2 days ago.

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As they got off the Quinjet, James tried not to think about how unsettling being back here was. He scanned the area for any possible immediate threats. Nothing seemed out of place for the most part.

“Stark, can you hack the door?” Steve asked.

“Just you try and stop me,” Tony said approaching the electronic lock. After a moment, the door opened. “Piece a cake. You, does your secret lover make cake to, Barnes?”

James rolled his eyes. “Focus on the task at hand.”

“I am while also focusing on cake. It’s called multitasking,” Tony said sarcastically.

“Guys, I picked up 4 heat signatures heading the door,” Sam said over the comms. He was in the air, scanning for outside threats with Redwing.

“Any outside?” Steve asked.

“None so far,” Sam answered.

James lifted his gun and aimed as he followed Steve through the door. He could hear the footsteps getting closer. He took a deep breath when they were only steps away.

“It has to be ready by tonight. I don’t care what it takes, just get it done!” a man’s voice echoed through the corridor.

American? James thought as 2 people came into view. Just as the 2 men noticed Steve and James, Tony shot them with tranq darts. They went down like a sack of potatoes. Tony shot out 2 more darts and hit the 2 men that were behind them.

“Sam, keep an eye on the door. We’re heading down,” Steve said over the comms.

“Gotcha Cap. Watch yourselves,” Sam said.

James continued to follow Steve to the elevator. He quickly scanned the unconscious men on the ground as the walk passed them. One was American, but the other 3 were German. What was the American doing here?

Tony had FRIDAY run a scan on the men to see what she could find. The A.I. informed him it will take a little while and she’ll update him soon. They got into the elevator and made there way down.

“Tony, picking up and heat signatures?” Steve whispered as the elevator slowed down.

“Yeah, a dozen spread out in the chamber ahead,” Tony confirmed. “Only 4 have visible automatic rifles. 2 at the entrance and 2 where Zemo locked himself in.”

Steve nodded and looked at James. His face was stern, but his eyes gave away his concern. “Ready, pal?”

“Ready,” James said, his voice even. He put his gun up and walked out of the elevator on Steve’s left.

They made quick work of the 2 guards at the entrance to the chamber. Tony tranqed the other 2 quickly before they could raise the alarm. The rest of the people there were scientists.

From the looks of it, they were working on a new serum. The scientists were terrified and surrendered themselves immediately once they saw who they were. One lady’s eyes were wide with terror when she saw James.

“Please, don’t kill me, Soldat. I was forced to work on the serum. They have my family,” she pleaded with him.

James’s mouth twisted into a snarl when she called him that. “Don’t call me that.” His face softens a bit when he saw the tears in her eyes. “I’m not here to kill you. Tell us everything about what’s going on here.” He hated when people looked at him like he was still the Winter Soldier.

She told him about the advancements that were made to the serum. Now, a person who survived the procedure would heal at a much faster rate than before. Their body didn’t need to intake as many calories as James and Steve’s did anymore. It could survive off of a third of what a normal body intake would need. They were much stronger, faster and agile than Steve and James also. It was much easier to brainwash them. The serum destroyed their brains, erasing all memories before regenerating ready to be filled by HYDRA’s lies.

“Have they used it on anyone, yet?” James demanded.

The woman nodded her head slowly. “Yes. On a woman a few months ago. She lived through the procedure and they moved to her another facility.”

“Which facility? Where?” James was sickened that HYDRA had claimed another victim.

“I don’t know. We aren’t privy to that information. We are just here to continuously produce the serum and enhance it. We aren’t even the ones who administer the serum. There’s a special team of doctors that do that.”

“Damn it,” James breathed.

Steve pulled him to the side. “Tony should be able to hack the system and find out more. I called Fury. SHIELD can handle this until a lead comes up.” He sighed heavily. “So, they found a way to make their victims more obedient on their quest to make the perfect weapon. We’re going to end their game once and for all.”

“We have to. There’s no telling what this woman will be capable of when they’re through with her,” James said. He shook his head and looked to the side, eyes falling onto the chair. His chair. The pain and torture he went through made him clench his fits and tighten his jaw. “HYDRA will be destroyed for everything they’ve done.”

“You sure about that, Soldat?” The woman’s voice was much deeper than before. When they looked at her, she a sinister smile on her lips. In an instance, it clicked. “You’re the woman.”

She smiled wickedly at them. “I’m the woman.”

James lifted his gun and shot at her, but she was too fast. She dodged out of the way and slammed into Steve. He flew back into the wall a few feet behind him. She turned and ran back at James, grabbing the barrel of the gun and bending it upwards.

He quickly let go of the gun and swung at her. She blocked it and punched him in the ribs, breaking 2 of them on impact. He spit up blood as he dropped to one knee. Her leg was coming around towards his face. He blocked her kick and swung her around into a table.

Tony shot 2 tranq darts at her, but again she was too fast. She jumped out of the way seconds before they hit their mark. “Damn, she’s fast.”

She ran at Steve, throwing punches he was having difficulty blocking and avoiding. James ran at her to help his friend. Even with 2 super soldiers attacking her, she was holding her own. They hardly landed any hits and each time she connected, slowed them down significantly.

James saw an opening as she was throwing a haymaker at Steve. He quickly wrapped his metal arm around her throat while stopping her fist from connecting with Steve’s face. She elbowed him in the ribs she broke earlier, only making him to tighten the choke hold he had her in. She grabbed his arm and started pulling it away. Steve grabbed her arm and she kicked him in the stomach. It hurt like hell but he didn’t let go.

“Tranq her, now!” Steve shouted.

Tony shot out 2 tranquilizer darts that hit her in the chest. It wasn’t enough, however. She was still struggling, kicking wildly trying to get the 2 men off of her.

“What is this woman made out of?” Tony asked bewildered before letting off 2 more shots. Her movements slowed, but she was still trying to fight them off. “Should I hit her with another dart?”

“Do it,” James said through gritted teeth. “She’ll survive.”

Tony sent one more at her, but just as it was going to hit her, she turned abruptly using James as a shield. The dart hit him in the neck. “Shit! I’m sorry!”

“Just shoot her again!” James said whirling her back around.

Tony did as he said, this time hitting his mark. She finally stopped flailing and her arms fell to her sides. James felt her breathing slow down before releasing her. Her body fell down to the floor and she let out a moan. She wasn’t completely out, but she couldn’t fight anymore.

James took the dart out of his neck. He felt a bit sluggish nothing more. He looked at the woman on the ground. Her eyes were glassy and she was mumbling incoherently. “We need to tie her up before the serum purges the tranquilizer out of her system.”

Steve started looking around. He knew there had to be some type of restraints lying around somewhere. HYDRA would be prepared for resistance from their subjects.

“How are you feeling there, Barnes?” Tony asked eyeing the woman on the ground.

“I’ll be fine,” he assured him. He looked over to where his now useless gun laid on the floor a few feet away. “I really liked that gun.”

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“Alright, fellas. Order’s up!” You handed Sam his plate while Steve made his way over to get his. “So, how do you take your coffee?” Sam told you for both of them and you quickly put it together. “Enjoy,” you said handing them their cups.

James had stood at the counter and let Steve sit down to eat. You both stood, watching eagerly at their reactions after taking the first bite.

Sam’s eyes went wide as saucers. “Y/N, this is amazing! No wonder you’re always here, Bucky.”

Steve’s eyebrows almost touched his hairline and he moaned loudly. “This is delicious! What else is on the secret menu?”

You laughed. “I’ll print one out for tomorrow night.”

James shot you a look. He really didn’t want to encourage these fools to come back. Especially, so soon.

Tony took a bite from his sandwich and his eyes rolled into the back of his head. “I didn’t think a simple sandwich could taste so damn good. Y/N, I’m getting you a restaurant.”

Your jaw dropped. “Wh-what?”

“I’m getting you a restaurant,” he repeated nonchalantly. “If you can make food this good out of a kiosk, I can only imagine what you can do in a real kitchen.”

You opened and closed your mouth like a fish trying to process what Tony Stark was offering.

James looked at you and smiled. “You alright there, doll?”

“I’m just.” You shook your head. “Thank you, Mr. Stark-um, Tony, but I have to respectfully decline. I chose this spot and this kiosk for a reason. It’s how I give back to those who help others. The customers I get are doctors, nurses, EMTs, officers and the like. I can’t just leave.”

James felt his chest swell. You turned down an amazing opportunity so you could continue giving back. If wasn’t falling you before, he definitely was now.

Tony beamed at that response. “I respect that, Y/N. If you ever change your mind, though, just tell Frostbite and I’ll make it happen.”

“Thank you, Tony,” you said with sincerity.

“No problem, dear.” He looked at the array of baked goods under the counter. “So, what do you recommend?”

You smiled and began picking out some treats for them. They lingered around for about 20 more minutes before Tony paid for everything and they left. James was relieved they were finally going so he could spend time alone with you.

“So, the Avengers are made up of 5-year-olds?” you teased.

“What?” he asked you confused.

You giggled. “The way the lot of you interact with each other screams 5-year-olds. Just as an observation I made.”

James shook his head. When he thought about it, you were right. They did act like children. “Maybe. But, they started it.” Your laugh made his heart speed up. He loved that sound.

You looked down the street and saw some scrubs heading your way. “Ah, the hungry approach.”

James looked to where they were coming from. He was a little upset he was being interrupted again, but this was your job. He sighed and looked back at you.

You were busy making him a fresh cup of coffee. You knew he would be going now, too. You always sent him off with coffee and a treat. It was your way of thanking him and trying to express how much you enjoyed his company. You were hoping he would get the hint that you liked him. You couldn’t seem to work up the nerve to tell him. If only you knew that he felt the same way.

James walks into the apartment. Steve sitting at the kitchen table enjoying the cheesecake he got from Y/N. James: How's the cheesecake? Steve: Amazing, of course. James, smiling like an idiot: Just like her. Steve laughing: She really is something. I'm happy for ya, Buck. James: Thanks. I just wish I knew how to tell her I like her. Steve choking on cheesecake: Wait! You spend all that time together and you haven't to her you like her. What the hell is wrong with you!? James, flipping him off: Shut up, punk, eat your cake and mind ya damn business. Steve, exasperated: But, how have you not told her yet!!? James going into his room and slamming the door: Shut up, punk.

So, there might be another part to Siberia but I'm not entirely sure as of yet. Would really love to know what you think about it so far. I didn't plan this story at all. I'm just letting it flow. I hope you guys enjoy it.

[notgoingtohappen]

Revenge, Interrupted (Part 20)

1  2  3  4  5  6  7  8  9  10  11  12  13  14  15  16  17  18  19

Stefan woke up to find Caroline’s back to him and his arm around her waist. Again.

As always, her hair smelled like the flowers at the estate. The scent filled him with a strange feeling of peace. Like the world had come to a standstill and it didn’t even matter as long as he had her in his arms. 

He found himself not wanting to let go of her. The naturalness of it all almost lulled him back to sleep, but there was something buzzing in the back of his mind that he struggled to put his finger on.

Vaguely, he registered the smell of paint as his eyes focused on a lock of Caroline’s hair that was bright pink against her maroon tank top. It disoriented him enough that his mind cleared and he quickly pulled away, fully awake.

They hadn’t gone to sleep together last night, he realised.

And he was shirtless.

How had they ended up like this? Did she sleepwalk or something, or was he having some sort of memory lapse? And since when did he wake up this early?

Feeling unusually annoyed at himself, he got out of bed, tearing his gaze away from how peaceful and beautiful she looked asleep, and headed to the kitchen to make himself some coffee.

This was killing him. How could he focus on keeping his feelings for her platonic when he woke up literally cuddling with her most mornings? How could he let his real feelings get mixed up in a fake relationship? How sad was that?

“Ugh, my alarm didn’t go off…” Caroline’s voice drifted from his room a few minutes later as she stumbled out, bleary-eyed, the pink streak in her hair falling in her face.

“Hey…” he started hesitantly, unsure of what to say.

Her smile froze on her face and her eyes widened as she looked him up and down. “Hey,” she said, her cheeks flushing a bit. Stefan realised he was still not wearing a shirt and couldn’t help but smile at the endearing way she looked away quickly.

“Oh my god, you must be wondering what I’m doing in your room,” she said suddenly, looking back at him. “Late last night I couldn’t sleep so I decided to paint my room with the paint Elena got for me, the prettiest pink shade by the way, and then I got tired but the paint fumes made it impossible to sleep there, so I came to ask if I could sleep with you but you were already asleep, and I don’t sleep on couches on principle, so when–”

“It’s totally fine.” Stefan said reassuringly, interrupting her ramble.

She exhaled, tension dissolving from her face, and smiled back at him. They stared into each other’s eyes from across the counter for a few moments. Stefan was completely lost in the brilliant blue-green when a loud sound from Damon’s room broke his trance.

“Let me sleep, Damon!” Elena’s voice growled.

Caroline bit her lip, her forehead creasing again. “Right. I could’ve just slept in Elena’s room. Why didn’t I think of that?”

“Hey, no one thinks at like one A.M,” Stefan said. 

It wasn’t like he was complaining.

“Yeah…” She still looked embarrassed, so Stefan jerked his mug towards her, trying to change the topic.

“Coffee?”

Instead of going to the machine, Caroline grabbed his mug and took a sip, still lost in thought.

God, it was so natural. It felt so real, it gave Stefan a funny feeling in his chest, like someone was squeezing it, and he looked down at the counter, trying to clear his head of the stupid romanticism Damon always teased him for.

“So, the party’s tonight.” Caroline prompted, trying to fill the silence.

He sat down next to her. “Excited?”

She nodded, her eyes brightening.

He really wasn’t, but it was worth it to see the light in her eyes, especially after what she’d been through. He still had to figure out his game plan. He shouldn’t drink like he’d decided a few mornings ago, but he was going to a rave. A few shots couldn’t hurt, after all…

“I bet Damon really wanted to go, huh?” Caroline said with a laugh that didn’t feel all that genuine.

Great. Now she was asking about his brother, who she barely even spoke to. Things felt different. Their usual easy and friendly and close dynamic was gone. They both felt too exposed, and the silence was growing awkward, and Stefan wasn’t sure who was at blame.

Taking a deep breath, he decided to just say it. “Things are weird, aren’t they? I mean we’ve been a pretend couple for days now, and this morning… things are weird...”

“No, not weird, Stefan…” she started, shaking her head, face screwed up in a smile that was both confused and dismissive.

Oh. So it was just him. Why had he felt the need to vocalise it for the first time? Now she might be able to tell that he maybe felt something more for her.

“We’re friends.” He said quickly, and it was more of a question than a statement.

“Yeah, of course!” She looked at him, bewildered. “In fact, you’re practically the best friend I’ve made here.” She was looking into his eyes again, hers shining with honesty, like she needed him to believe that.

He smiled softly at her and then turned to get some more coffee, not quite sure what to say next.

And yet, when Damon walked into the room, he felt a twinge of annoyance.

“Morning, lovebirds,” Damon said, unusually subdued.

“Why do you sound so down?” Caroline asked.

“Elena’s hospital hours are crazy. Says she’s gonna mostly sleep on her day off.” He muttered.

“Well she has to wake up in time for the rave!” Caroline exclaimed.

Damon seemed to cheer up a bit when reminded of the party and poured cereal for everyone, announcing that this was him cooking breakfast.

“Okay, I’m off. If Elena isn’t up by like six, call me and Bonnie.” Caroline said after finishing hers, pushing herself off her stool. She stopped in front of Stefan and he looked up her from the stool his tall frame was crouched on.

“See you later” she said gently, her arms twining around his neck.

His arms circled her waist in response as he pulled her to him and rested his forehead against hers, watching as her eyes fell shut. “I love you” he whispered back.

He hadn’t even realised he’d said it until her eyes snapped open. The confusion on her face morphed into something more conflicted in a matter of seconds. She gulped and smiled back at him, but her eyes looked…pained?

“I love you too.” she replied softly.

The squeezing feeling in his chest was back. It wasn’t real, but he wanted to live in it forever. Live in the world where they both meant it completely. A world where it wasn’t pre-discussed, said for the benefit of their friends, the product of a pretend relationship.

She pressed her lips to his cheek, her hands still in the back of his hair when she pulled away. “Bye”

She was out the door before he knew it.

Stefan fixed his eyes on his cereal and pushed it around with the spoon, trying to process and rationalise what had just happened. A minute later he looked up to see Damon looking thoroughly amused.

He raised his eyebrows in way of demanding an explanation.

Damon started shaking with laughter. “Oh Steffy, you two really are interesting.”

“Why?” He half snapped, trying not to look worried about what Damon meant by that.

“It’s so funny, your first ‘I love you’ and you blurted it out over cereal!”

“What makes you think it was the first?” Stefan asked, his tone defiant. It wasn’t even Damon; it was himself he was mad at.

“She looked like a deer caught in headlights.”

“I’ll have you know she texted me ’ily’ before.”

Damon’s lips quirked up again. “Over the phone then? My bad. Someone’s relationship is moving fast.”

Though she had been with the girls that time, he remembered. And it had been ’thx ily’ because he’d offered to cook dinner whenever she wanted.

He shook his head, almost laughing out loud at himself. So what? It’s not like it had been any more real this time around. For Bonnie and Elena’s benefit or Damon’s, what difference did it make?

“Good god brother, stop brooding!” Damon interrupted his flow of thought. “I’m going to shower. See ya.”

Stefan glanced at his untouched bowl and decided to go for a run.

~*~

He’d only been running for around ten minutes when he got a call from an unknown number.

“What up, Stefan?” Came Lexi’s voice through his headphones.

“Lexi? What number are you calling from?”

“My girlfriend’s. Mine was dead. Oh by the way, I have a new girlfriend!”

Stefan smiled, slowing down. “Awesome! Tell me about it. Also, aw, you have my number memorised?”

“Of course, dummy, we’ve been best friends since elementary school?”

“Still touching.”

After a few more rounds of the park and Lexi telling him everything there was to know about her and Cami O'Connell, the conversation finally turned to his ‘girlfriend.’

“So how are things with Caroline?”

“Okay. Nothing major happened since the makeout session that night. She’s back in town now, we’re going to a rave tonight to celebrate her mom being okay…”

“Stefan Salvatore, what aren’t you telling me?”

Stefan sighed. “I said 'I love you’ to her this morning.” He confessed miserably.

“You did what? Wait, you love her?”

“What? No! I don’t know! We’d discussed doing it to convince the others more, but instead of saying it in front of everyone, I accidentally said it over breakfast. In front of Damon.”

“Well, at least she thinks it was plan-related.”

“Yeah but…it can get a lot. Kissing and cuddling and stuff. All the time. And I don’t know what she’s thinking. She’s a really good actress.”

“Oh babe, I hate seeing you so conflicted. Cheer up. It’ll be over before you know it and then you can sort your feelings out in the peaceful haven of friendship.”

“We are friends.”

“You know what I mean. One hundred percent just friends, in front of everyone or whatever.”

“You’re right.” Stefan stopped running, panting for air.

“Back to this rave, have fun, okay. But aren’t you worried about a repeat of what happened the last time you both drank too much?”

“I… plan to avoid that at all costs.”

“But?” Lexi prompted.

“But it was amazing.”

“Pull yourself together! I’m honestly not even worried about you doing anything on purpose because we all know how righteous you are, but this is causing you way too much turmoil.”

“It’s fine. Maybe it’s just boredom and will go away once work starts…”

Lexi wasn’t convinced. “If only you two had decided on some friends with benefits scenario instead of this lame ass fake relationship–”

“Bye Lex” Stefan cut in.

“Fine, I think I heard Cami wake up anyway. Good luck.”

“Thanks.”

He would really need it.

21

[ctrl-shift-esc]

Home Surgery

House renovations not only feel like a bomb went off in your home but a bomb went off in your head too. It’s like the Hunger Games in a relationship. Good luck, may the strongest couple win… 

Hello fam,

long time no talk (unless you’ve been following along on the ol’insta stories).
Even then, I haven’t been keeping up as often as I used to (Sorry bout it?). So let me bring you up to date on everything and all that is Veronica & her shenanigans…

We moved into our home last April which is now, 7 months ago! We’re still knee deep in renovations. Surprised? I’m not! Who am I kidding…yes I am… I mean I was hoping we would’ve been done by now (epic wishful thinking on my part). Things have moved slowly since April.

It’s to be expected I suppose, I hadn’t really spent any consecutive time at home before June. Once I got back, I was exhausted and didn’t feel like taking on any huge projects. I’d worked full time on set for over 10 months followed by months on end of travelling. I was craving some stand-still time. I wanted to enjoy my summer and not be a slave to home renovations. In lieu of my laziness we chipped away at projects only on weekends. At first, my boyfriend was the one trying to kick me in the ass to buckle down and get the work done. Fast forward 4 months later – here I am, getting impatient so I’m doing the kicking of the ass…

Going into this, I kept saying that I’d be fine gutting a place to its bones – that I’d done this kind of thing before and the mess didn’t scare me. Which is fact, but what I’d ignored was my need to have a home – a sanctuary – a safe haven. I didn’t realize a gutted house meant a gutted sanctuary. Going into this, I also kept saying ; I need a place to call home. So I’m not sure what I was expecting… maybe I expected things to magically get done on their own, or somehow still have a livable space in the midst of dust and chaos?! How could I’ve missed this? I am not sure…

Everything happened so fast, we’d been casually house hunting for a few months when we discovered what would be our future home. We didn’t think too much of it until the idea of owning it slowly crept in. In fact, at first the house gave me a weird vibe. Something didn’t flow but I was determined to find out what… We agreed to go for a second viewing, at this point we were already talking about our demolition plans. Next thing you know; we put in an offer, we negotiated and closed — It’s ours!

We knew right away we wanted to update the two upstairs bathrooms (they haven’t been touched since the 70′s). Painting was a non-negotiable. We also played with the idea of blowing out the entrance wall to open the space up. Also, the mudroom slash laundry room could use a face-lift. The master bedroom lacked closet space and bathroom space. Needless to say, we had to get creative with the designs to maximize every inch of this place and I’d be lying if I said we had it all figured out. You get the point; the list of projects is never ending.

We tackled the main living areas first. While I was away my boyfriend started by removing the popcorn ceiling in the main living room. This was our first setback. It took weeks to properly remove it all, then, weeks to properly sand & paint. Soon after we decided to demolish the entrance wall (best decision ever). Later we painted the whole main floor… Never underestimate how much painting can do to a space – also, never underestimate how long painting with a roller can take…

Now that we were knee deep in our reno’s, we decided to make our lives even harder by redoing the floors in all main living spaces; main living room, kitchen and TV room. 

The current floor is acacia hardwood flooring. A color that is now outdated, with plank sizes that are also outdated. The lower TV room is covered in a light beige carpet but also has a backyard access. Oh & the hardwood? Scratched to shit. There isn’t one ounce of flooring that isn’t damaged. So here were my thoughts; Why have carpet in a room where you’d be accessing the outside from? If our floors are already damaged & outdated how would that affect us in the long run, for resale value? So first, I tried to match the TV room floor to the acacia wood… Once we started digging to find a matching floor we quickly realized we were most likely never going to be able to match it. Like a salesman once told me “you’re chasing a leprechaun”. Cool cool cool cool…So cool. It would never be a perfect match, in other words — it would be noticeably different. Uh, No. I’m not okay with that. There’s nothing more frustrating and disorienting than walking into a home that lacks cohesiveness. We toyed with the idea of sanding and restaining, until we found out it would cost more than replacing the whole floor.

Thanks to my Design firm, I’ve got access to flooring I otherwise wouldn’t have found on my own. I was suggested an alternative type of flooring that is in theory a Vinyl plank, but in reality, is its own type called SPC flooring (stone plastic composite). It looks and feels like wood. It has no expansion or contraction since its made of stone & plastic. It’s waterproof and highly scratch resistant. This sounds like the perfect floor for a home that would resell to a young family with tons of kids and dogs that may ruin a beautiful hardwood. Want proof? come over and look at ours.

The tricky thing about this flooring is that the planks are quite thin. It offers little to no flexibility, so your subfloor needs to be leveled near perfect to prevent any cracking… In a high-rise or newer house this is easier to accomplish. In a 70′s home where the foundation can and most probably is uneven, not so much. Our challenge was to find the right installer who knew this floor, who’s worked with it before and who understands the leveling specs. We interviewed 3 or 4 installers, one of which was convinced he could not only match our existing floor (ya! right!) but could also sand and restain it a different color. Which fyi, I’d been repeatedly told would be close to impossible to do with acacia…?!… A risk I wasn’t necessarily willing to take. Especially if it’d cost more than installing a brand new – scratch resistant – waterproof flooring! The other installers came in really confident about having worked with the floor before until I started asking questions… Slowly they started hesitating & pulled back from wanting to level our floor. I lost interest in hiring them 1- I couldn’t understand the words that were coming out of their mouths and 2- if there was any chance that they were talking themselves up only to make a quick buck, when in reality they know jack squat about this floor & risk damaging it – That’s gonna be a hard no from me… At this point I was losing interest in the whole ordeal. Let’s keep our damaged floors and move on! Losing hope over here! Just let me buy a couch already!

Let’s back up for a second… All the while this is happening, keep in mind, our house is not furnished. Decorations (the ones we have) are put away. Walls are bare, clothes aren’t put away. It’s a total dissaray. Well maybe dissaray isn’t the right word, but it’s a tiny shit show & it’s getting old.

We couldn’t do anything else until the floor situation was dealt with. Finishing the second coat of paint is now on hold, since installing the floors might damage the walls, we might have to repaint everything anyway. You wouldn’t catch me repainting 1200 sq ft with rollers A THIRD TIME! No way Jose.

Since everything else was on hold. I wanted to start the master bedroom project right away instead of waiting until spring like we’d originally planned. Let’s at least get one room over with, my gosh! So we decided to take the closet project head on and not look back. Our plan was to finish it the weekend we started. Wrong! say hello to our second setback. We are now 3 weeks later and we’re still working on the bedroom. Don’t get me wrong, we got 75% done on that weekend, but we encountered technical difficulties that have lingered since then, including the purge of my closet and organizing it all… this is a project in itself. One that may or may not take just as long as painting a whole house by hand…

The room is essentially done, I’m hoping we can officially wipe our hands clean from the renovations of this bedroom by this weekend and get started on the decorations! 

They say you find what you’re looking for when you stop looking — once we stopped looking for floor installers, we finally got a hold of the supplier who’d recommended someone they’d worked with before. Hallelujah! He was easy to communicate with & he agreed to come over that weekend to give us an estimate. I tried not to get my hopes up, for all I knew we may have invited an overrated installer into our house just to tease ourselves…

Once we met, it was clear we all got along great. He’s clearly worked with the floor before and I knew this because he answered questions I didn’t even get a chance to ask. He knew the specs and explained the process without being dodgy. That’s our guy, I don’t care how much he costs hire the guy! We all know my boyfriend put a stop to that real quick — we stick to the budget, he said. So here I was, crossing my fingers to death. He sent us his estimate the next day and it was within our budget!

YUUSSSSS!!! We finally found our guy, This is so exciting! We have a bit of prep work to do before they come to install, but for the first time in months it feels like the work we’re doing is going somewhere! Floors will be installed by the first week of December!

The best news of all; phase 1 is almost complete! That’s right, we decided to do our renovations in phases. Because we need a break y’all! We will hibernate through winter and get back to it in spring…We will focus on the fun stuff over the winter, like beautifying our home. The rest of the renovations like the mudroom and bathrooms can thankfully be quarantined so we don’t have to look or live in a hot mess for months on end! Home stretch folks! One more month and we can relax for a while.

We have a few fun trips planned over the holidays. We booked a mini getaway in a cabin on Galiano Island, at Bodega Cove, at the end of December (board games for days!). Saying we’re excited is an understatement. We will be hosting a House warming holiday cocktail party right before new years, then, we will head to Victoria to ring in the new year in style! We’ve got a good few months ahead & I’m damn well looking forward to it!

We shed blood, sweat & tears over the last 7 months. I’m not lying when I say it’s been a process, (now that I can see the light at the end of the tunnel) I can finally start to appreciate the journey! 

I’ll keep you posted on all the progress, dontcha worry!

Notes to remember from a fellow renovator to you:

* If you’re doing major renovations or are thinking of renovating - try to do it before you move in. Renovations are stressful enough as it is, there’s no need to add stress by living in the mess. So if you can avoid it, I recommend it.

* Renovating can and most probably will stress you out – healthy lifestyle habits like eating properly, exercising and proper sleep patterns will do wonders. Don’t give up on yourself.

* Try to remember that it’s temporary and keep in mind things will get worse before they get better (yes you read that right... It’s something I somehow didn’t realize). It’s only part of the process. Keep your eye on the prize! If you’re having trouble visualizing it with the walls gutted, create a vision board and put it up in a space where you can see it clearly and daily.

* If things get too intense, walk away from it and go do something that will reward you emotionally. Self-Care is knowing when to walk away. 

* When taking on a renovation project as a couple, it’s an added pressure to the relationship. Relationships are already a lot of work as it is; worrying about work - day to day responsibilities - and having to take care of your family life (if you have kids). Adding renovations to the mix can make you feel overwhelmed. Your schedules will be overflowing with To Do lists – but remember that romance also needs to be a priority. Date nights & relationship time needs to be allocated. Set aside some time to focus on watering the relationship. You’ll need it. Don’t let the To Do lists come between you two. The lists will always be there, time together is precious.

* most of all – try and have fun! (taking my own advice on this one!)

Until then Ctrl+Shift+ ESCAPE but Stay tuned for a closet reveal :)

[mitchbeck]

CANTLON: (SAT) SOUND TIGERS CLIP WOLF PACK IN OT

BY: Gerry Cantlon, Howlings BRIDGEPORT, CT -  Sporting one of the stronger home records in the AHL, the Bridgeport Sound Tigers got a goal from Otto Koivula with 6.9 seconds left in overtime to lift them to a 4-3 victory over the Hartford Wolf Pack. Koivula had two glorious chances on the same type of play, a rush off the right wing. The Pack, however, saw netminder, Brandon Halverson, stop the first one, but he lost control of the puck on the second shot, but the third time was the charm for the Sound Tigers as Koivula took a pass from Chris Bourque, the ex-Pack, and came from the left wing side to score the game winner. The Pack deserved a better fate after having played a fairly solid road game in a building that has seemed to have a hex on them and other teams in the AHL. “This place is tough for a lot of teams in the AHL, but I thought for large chunks of time, we controlled play. We got off to a good start, but we just had those lapses and mismanagement of pucks that hurt us. That being said, I think the guys worked very hard and just didn’t get the reward for their efforts,” said Pack head coach, Keith McCambridge. The Wolf Pack erased the sting of a late Josh Ho-Sang second-period goal by scoring early and taking a one-goal lead. Steven Fogarty fed Ryan Lingren who took a shot from the left point which produced a strange rebound. The puck came right into the right wing circle where Tim Gettinger was there and able to pop his second goal in as many games into the net at the 17 seconds mark. For Gettinger, it was his 11th goal of the year. The Sound Tigers returned the favor and evened the game at three. In his first game on conditioning loan from the parent New York Islanders, Thomas Hickey received a tight pass along the blue line. He was being pressured and seemingly had little room to operate, but saw his 55-foot shot somehow get past a plethora of bodies and past Halverson at 3:20. “We have to do a better job defending that play,” said McCambridge. The Wolf Pack made quick use of open ice to take an early 2-1 lead in the second period. While playing four-on-four, Fogarty got the team off to a good start by winning the faceoff. Fogarty advanced the puck to defenseman, Sean Day, who in turn flipped it over to Lindgren. He launched a shot from the right point that Fogarty redirected while screening Christopher Gibson.  The Sound Tigers netminder was also screened by a Bridgeport defenseman. For Fogarty, it was his 13th goal of the season and came just thirty seconds into the four-on-four. “I knew I had some room there," Fogarty said. "It was a good shot by Lindgren and I was able to get my stick on it.” The two teams combined for 25 shots in the period. The Pack got off to a good start getting three early on and two of those came off the stick of rookie, Lias Andersson. Bridgeport’s Travis St. Denis, the former QU Bobcat, was denied. John Gilmour followed as he calmly came along the upper right wing half wall and snared a loose puck. Gilmour sent it to Peter Holland, who in turn put a sharp angle shot on net. At 7:26, Halverson stopped Koivula and Steve Bernier attempts and then another by St. Denis. The Sound Tigers tied the game up late in the second period. Off a strong rush, Andersson had an open chance on the left wing side but missed the net completely. Sebastian Aho picked up the loose puck for the Sound Tigers and fed Andrew Ladd, who was playing in his first game since being assigned on a conditioning loan by the Islanders. Ladd sent a perfect lead pass for Ho-Sang who busted through the middle of the ice. Andersson was cruising back thru center ice and made a weak stick-check and watched as Ho-Sang barrel thru it and a Wolf Pack defenseman and straight on in on a breakaway. He cut from the left wing to the right wing side before beating Halverson on the forehand. The goal was Ho-Sang's third goal of the year. "You can’t let a player get through the neutral zone like that. A strong defense was needed there." McCambridge stated. After just five shots on goal between the two teams and many more missed shots, the Pack cashed in on their first power play in 40 seconds. Regular linemates Matt Beleskey fed Holland deep on the left wing. He quickly found Vinni Lettieri on the right point and zoomed in down the middle and buried Holland’s pass for his 16th of the season at 6:34. “That was a good solid play. We executed it quickly and Vinni has a good finishing touch,“ remarked McCambridge. The Sound Tigers evened the game as the Wolf Pack got caught in a bad line change on a neutral zone turnover. They never got set up in their own zone and the Sound Tigers defensive tandem of Parker Wotherspoon and Yanick Rathjeb did some point-to-point passing once in the Pack's zone. At 17:20, Rathjeb launched a shot from the right point that Ladd redirected from 15 feet out past Halverson, who was making his fourth straight start. SCRATCHES: Chris Bigras (right ankle, out at least a month) Ville Meskanen (lower body, day-to-day) Rob O’Gara (lower body) Ty Ronning (lower body injury from playing in Maine) Derek Pratt (healthy) Shawn St. Amant (healthy) Brandon Crawley (healthy) LINES: Fogarty-Gettinger-Gropp Holland-Beleskey-Butler Melanson-Lettieri-Leedahl Fontaine-Andersson-O’Donnell Gilmour-Lindgren Tolkinen-Hajak Day-Finn NOTES: The roster revolving door keeps up for the Wolf Pack. UCONN grad defenseman Derek Pratt was signed from Maine (ECHL) and wore jersey number two, Drew Melanson was recalled from the Mariners for his second tour of duty and switched to number 13. The latest roster addition comes in the form of another defenseman, Matt Finn from Florida. He also played four games for the Grand Rapids Griffins in an early action out of training camp tallying just a goal. Finn played for the Sound Tigers twice. He played in the first 33 games back 2015-16 and then two games the following season. He is donning jersey number 20. This year he has played 26 games with the Florida Everblades with nine goals, 18 points in 26 games. He arrived at 6 pm last night and just in time for the UCONN-BU game at the XL Center. He becomes the 37th player to play for the Wolf Pack and Sound Tigers. GM Chris Drury was not in attendance but was just up the road at the Yale-Colgate game at Ingalls Rink doing some scouting for future Wolf Pack players. Ex-Wolf Pack/CT Whale goalie, Cam Talbot, was traded straight up for Flyers goalie Anthony Stolarz by the Edmonton Oilers. The signing on the day before he was fired by former Oilers GM Peter Chiarelli, of former Sound Tiger goalie Mikko Koskinen to a three-year extension forced a move since the Oilers would have been over the cap limit. Stolarz played against the Wolf Pack in a rehab start two weeks ago at the XL Center. Sam Gagner, the son of ex-New Haven Nighthawk, Dave Gagner, who was just in here a week ago with Toronto, was traded by Vancouver who then loaned him to the Marlies to Edmonton for former Ranger Ryan Spooner. Former UCONN Husky, Jesse Schwartz, was loaned from Roanoke Valley (SPHL) to Brampton (ECHL). UCONN dropped a back-end of home with BU getting shutout 2-0. Maine beat Merrimack 4-2 and have gone back to being up eight on UCONN for the eighth and final playoff spot. PERSONAL NOTE: Its been a tough two weeks with the sudden loss of my middle brother, Kieran, who passed away at the way too young of an age of 56 yesterday. We also lost one of the better minor pro hockey fans in New Haven Nighthawks super-fan, Butch Gesner. A fixture at the New Haven Coliseum, Gesner loved the Nighthawks. He migrated when the Beast of New Haven folded and became the newborn Bridgeport Sound Tigers in 2001. In the mid-1990s, when New Haven had no AHL team after the Senators left for PEI, he befriended Springfield Falcons GM, Bruce Landon, and went to many a Falcons games. Gesner recently sent me a very touching note about how my personal Facebook page posting of my game stories on the Wolf Pack and UCONN helped keep him in the hockey loop. Many knew Gesner, who was paralyzed from the neck down after a severe home accident, that he still maintained his joyful attitude. When cancer came calling, he met that challenge like a fierce forechecker. RIP you have earned it my friend. Our warmest and sincerest condolences to the Gesner family. (EDITOR'S NOTE: Howlings wouldn't be Howlings without the remarkable contributions of Gerry Cantlon. He has become family to us and we offer him our deepest and most heartfelt condolences to Gerry and his entire family. May Kieran rest in peace...) Read the full article

[insatiable-writings]

The Book I Need to Write A Long Fucking Time Ago (pt.1)

This is my final goodbye to you.

Because all my life, I’ve written down what I’ve felt.

Ever since I realised my head only had so much space for thoughts and I had to get them out, I’ve written them down.

And now I want to be happy, and I want to remember everything about you, but I can’t have both. And I can’t have you.

This is my final goodbye to you.

Our story, my memories.

Chapter One:

This is Ebony.

I was in year 4. I hated school, everything about it. I didn’t get along with the guys, I hated sports. I got along with the girls but that is gay, so I couldn’t really do either. I liked to read, but books were limited being a Christian and all. And we were only allowed one book a day.

This is the year I started taking the bus, which was a big deal for me because it was my parents telling me I was old enough to be trusted.

I would read on the bus, listening to the radio. But I sat alone.

A year earlier I was sitting in the counsellors chair, telling them my feelings.

“Every time they say something to me, it’s like my face turns to stone. My lips turn down, I can’t help but to cry, and then they’re mean to me for crying.”

“I want you to try this.”

She disappeared and handed me a printed out photo of the ocean. Fish, coral, all kinds of animals floating underneath a giant pirate ship. All uncoloured.

“Every day you get home from school, every moment you are in school and you feel like you can’t cope with what they’re saying, I want you to take this out and colour in an animal. Fill in a blank space. On the really bad days, fill in two. Then, if the photo finishes, grab another. And 2 things will happen. Eventually, you’ll come to realise it’s been a week since you last drew, then a month, and then a year. You’ll forget all about it. And, two, on the bad days, you’ll create something beautiful out of the pain.”

Mum encouraged me that I should at least try it. Dad didn’t say anything, because he wasn’t there. He never really was around for the emotional stuff, I think he didn’t really know how to cope or deal with it. And, I was more emotional than the other kids.

Here’s the deal. Do not teach someone to create beauty out of the pain, because eventually they’ll start to tell themselves that until something beautiful is created, it has to be held on. And they only ever feel talented when they draw, or eventually write, and then when they’re happy and unable to write because they don’t know how to write out happy thoughts, then they crave sadness.

So every day, I found myself sitting alone on the bus. I would be colouring photos, drawing pictures, watching out the window, but I was alone.

Then I met Jeremy, Aaron and Imogen.

Aaron was the first. Mitchell was busy throwing rocks at me while I was reading in the ‘Ark’, a giant wooden box that had a seat on both sides, with a walk way in the middle. Originally I was in the sand creating cities, an underground world like Tatooine or wherever it was that Luke Skywalker grew up, but Mitchell had destroyed that too. He was a bigger kid, kept down 2 years because he wasn’t the smartest. Meth addicted mother, father who just didn’t love him, but Chairo always had this thing about ensuring every year level had students, 70% who came from Christian families and 30% who came from, well from somewhere else. And boy was that Mitchell.

So I was in the Ark dodging stones as I tried to read, when Aaron came in with the teacher who sent Mitchell away.

Aaron was in my year level. Skinny kid, brown hair, 5 younger siblings who I often saw sitting on the bus. He introduced himself as Aaron and told me he wanted to help fix Dan-opia the stupid name I gave to my sand-castle city.

Aaron and I clicked instantly. I don’t know why, it was probably a majority to do with the fact that I didn’t have anyone else, but I was always grateful to the guy that rescued me from Mitchell.

And then he introduced Jeremy, the kid who lived next door to the school. A World War fanatic who’s first words to me were regarding the ongoing science experiment (he was a fucking nerd), that involved a Big Mac he hadn’t touched for 2 months (and I saw it at the 11 month point, it was genuinely interesting).

Jeremy went to the same church as I did, and we eventually would dress up so the pastor wouldn’t recognise us, meaning the other bought a friend to church which was rewarded with chocolate, something we never were allowed from our parents.

Jeremy and I would go on to collect Horrible History books and he would be the one to tell me that Doctor Who both existed on the television but not in the real world to save us from our troubles. From the day care centre I could never open up about or from his pilot dad that would disappear for months and come back, only to leave him with a bruise to remember him while he left again.

Jeremy was the one who’s house I would go to most nights when I was allowed, before basketball where we would sit and watch Doctor Who and cook recipes from the Horrible History books, or played mercy, a game we invented which involved linking hands and trying to hurt the other person more without breaking the grip. The first to yell mercy.

Jeremy introduced me to Imogen, the girl on my bus and my first girl who was a friend (the importance of the words ‘who was a’ was very important at this age).

Imogen was the smallest girl to this day I have ever met, and had 11 siblings either side of her. She was first on the bus and last to get off every day and sat with Aaron, and eventually myself.

And just like that, over the space of a week, I went from having no friends to having 3. Our group of four would sit in my ark every day at lunch and recess. One would play guard as the others took off their hat (a task that would be punishable with a week library ban and extra homework, we later found out). Every other day we played stop, running around the playground as one us threw the ball at the other. Imogen would go on to break her front tooth on the monkey bars as her after school aerobics allowed her to use them as a safe haven from the tennis ball we were throwing at each other.

Within a month we had our routine figured out.

Monday til Wednesday I would go to the after school day care, which is a horrible chapter in itself.

Thursday Jeremy and I would jump the school fence near the danger hill, a hill at the school that they told us snakes lived in but looking back they really told us not to go near it because we could probably hide around the corner and do drugs, had we known what drugs were. We would go to his house and watch that weeks episode of Doctor Who, and then play lego or read more Horrible Histories.

Friday was for basketball training and youth group, which led to Saturday, game day. Dad would always drive me because it was the first thing he was proud of me for. And then Sunday we went to church which meant Sunday night was for listening to the radio while mum and dad fought. It was never super aggressive, or abusive like you hear some stories from some families. But every night they would yell about whatever their shit was at the time.

And then we would repeat it, day in day out.

School was always shit, I hated the other kids and I especially hated Mitchell. But I had my colour page so I wasn’t allowed to be sad anymore.

I had two sisters, Lorin and Nicole.

Lorin was born after me, and loved sports but hated learning.

Nicole was born after her, hated sports but loved movies.

Some weekends Nicole would make us put on a play for mum and dad with all our toys which always led into a fight about who had to clean up.

Lorin was the reason I lost my two front teeth as she double bounced me on a trampoline.

Nicole was the reason that all of us kids got presents on each others birthdays, since she couldn’t go without getting something.

Lorin would eventually be the reason we got kicked out of the church and my parents would focus on her mental health than mine, which was only fixed when she got out into the real world and discovered drugs.

Nicole would go on to develop extreme anxiety disorder, and not be able to do a lot in the real world.

But for the time being, at this point in the story, they were each others best friends. Being a girl Nicole was put in my spot on the bunk bed sharing a room with Lorin and I was upgraded to the new bedroom, which used to be mums study. This only grew their bond, which made me feel even more alone.

Before Nicole, Lorin and I would stay up to all our in the morning, talking, laughing, and being supportive of each other.

After Nicole, Lorin had someone who understood her more, and I was quickly replaced. Especially since being in a new room meant I could no longer jump out of bed and talk to her at night anymore.

Mum and Dad were the only 2 other members in the family (Aside Candy, Lorin’s cat, which would come to be called Candy Tangerine Sparkles Scanlan over the years of Lorin’s indecisiveness). Mum and Dad tried too hard to be the perfect Christian family which resulted in a lot of thoughts being oppressed and issues never being resolved. They started one of the bible study groups of each of our year levels so they could secretly get a deeper insight into our lives, and were always trying to present us as the perfect children in the perfect family, which resulted in all their kids not feeling like they were ever going to be good enough (still trying now Mum, maybe this book will help).

So that was my life at this point in time.

And It is probably worth noting at this moment that there is no point to this book, other than to get it out of my head. I don’t think you’ll learn a lesson, I don’t think it will even be published, all I know is that I have a story, that not many people ask for before they judge how I behave, and I want to get it out of my head. Because right now, it’s floating around screaming at me every day, and I am hoping to fix this.

It was a Monday, middle of the school year. Mitchell had destroyed the comic book Jeremy got me from some market (a shitty WW2 magazine, Comando Comics or something, I hated them but Jeremy loved them), so I was colouring in my chair, finishing off the next photo in my collection of depressing days.

I looked up as the classroom door shut. She was tall, long Ebony hair, and skinny. All her clothes were new, her bag shining in the lights. Her hair was pulled back with a blue head band, and she walked in behind her mum, with jellies tied around her wrist. She looked around the room and then met eyes, as I tried to think of who this girl was. I had never met her before, or seen her on the playground. But there was something different about her. Which sounds like a cliche, but that is what made her who she was. She was my living love story, and this is that story.

“Just take a seat anywhere, I’ll be with you in a minute.” The teacher leant in and whispered in her ear as she picked up her bag.

She walked down the aisles of chairs as everyone mumbled words about her. She had dark brown eyes with a red mark in her left eye. She moved slowly and cautiously like she was desperately trying to memorise all of the faces in the crowd. She came and sat in the chair next to me, and started to grab out her bright blue and red stripped pencil case.

“Daniel,” The teacher was standing over me as I was staring at the girl beside me. I was transfixed on her. When you’re in year 4 you never really notice things about people other than whether they were a boy or a girl. My mind told me she’s a girl but she’s nothing like Imogen. Imogen felt like one of the boys, but this girl felt different.

When she smiled her eyes closed, and the dark brown would shine through as she opened them again. Her smile would crinkle on the right side of her face, and her lips were bright red. Her hair was so dark it was like light just disappeared into it. Her skin was pale right, wth brown freckles down her arms. Her nails were long and blue, as she taped them on the table nervously. She sat with her legs crossed, leaning on her left arm, as she stared at the teacher, staring at me. I have never seen someone light up the room like she did, and I couldn’t break my vision from her. I wanted to remember everything about what I was seeing, I truely have never seen someone so captivating before, and I was transfixed.

“Daniel,” the teacher said again, trying to break my sight, “I told her to sit here because her brothers and her go on the same bus as you, so I thought you might be able to show her around the school and help her with the bus. This is Ebony.”

Ebony.

My god how that name will haunt me for the rest of my life.

[geneshaven]

Running

I just can’t seem to break away from this damn show. It is a five+ year investment. It has gotten under my skin. It is in my blood. Maybe I shouldn’t even try anymore. Writing Arrow/Olicity fiction brings me small comforts in uncomfortable times. So be it.

I wrote this story in flight from Alaska down to San Diego. I was looking for something to do to pass the time. Reading wasn’t working. Playing games wasn’t either. Instead, I came up with the following story.

 “Oliver…stop. I need to stop.”

Oliver stopped and turned back to look at Felicity. They had been running in the tunnels beneath Star City for over an hour, managing to stay ahead of the ACU---just barely. Oliver could their boots stomping behind him, echoing off the tunnel walls like ghosts. They were no more than 15 minutes behind Oliver and Felicity, and they could smell blood.

Earlier this morning, Susan had gone on air and reported to the world Oliver’s connection to the Bravta, and then she dropped the real bombshell and ousted Oliver as the Green Arrow. She had detailed information on him, (mostly provided to her by Prometheus) leaving no doubt as to the authenticity of her claim. The woman was in a fever pitch as she made her report, and as Oliver and Felicity watched the newscast from the Bunker, they both could see and hear anger in Susan’s voice.

Then just after Susan finished her reveal, and before the cameras turned off, a sniper’s bullet hit her between the eyes. Blood and bone fragments splattered the podium she stood at and sent shock waves throughout the city. Everybody immediately assumed that Oliver was the shooter, given the information Susan had just related. The SCPD and ACU were dispatched to seek out and apprehend the now defrocked Mayor Oliver Queen.  Oliver suspected that with the ongoing manhunt for Green Arrow over Detective Malone’s murder, that this public execution of Susan Williams would motivate the police to ignore the apprehend directive and put Oliver in their cross hairs. Oliver and Felicity were shocked at this turn of events and Oliver felt a certainty come over him that Prometheus would further add to all this by revealing the location of the Bunker, probably through an anonymous tip.

Oliver was right in his instinct and he told Felicity that the Bunker was now compromised. They needed to get out of there.

So they started running.

**

Oliver looked at Felicity as they stopped the mad pace he had set for them. She was bent over, panting and teetering from exhaustion. His heart broke as he watched her struggle to catch her breath. When they left the Bunker on the Ducati, Felicity’s arms tightly clutching around Oliver’s waist, his plan was to try and make it to the chamber he had found 2 years earlier, an off-shoot of the old subway system that used to run beneath the city. It was a small compartment furnished by the builders, a place they used for breaks and rest during the grueling work. It was not on any map or city plans and Oliver knew that if he could make it there ahead of the ACU’S pursuit, he and Felicity would have a temporary safe haven.

Oliver continued to look at Felicity and he fought against the urge to go to her, to enfold her in his embrace.  But now was not the time for tenderness and intimacy. It was time for survival.

“Felicity,” he spoke to her. “We can’t stop yet. They are right behind us and catching up. We have to keep going. The chamber is only 10 minutes away. We will be safe there until I can figure out what we’re going to do.”

Felicity straightened up and looked back at Oliver. There was dirt and grime streaked on her face and clothes. Her ponytail had come undone and her blond hair lay limp and plastered to the sides of her face, dampened by the condensation in the tunnels. Oliver also saw fear and defeat filling her eyes.

“Oliver…” Felicity started to say, and then she collapsed down to the rough stone floor of the tunnel.

Oliver immediately went to her, lifting her into his arms. Felicity’s breathing was shallow and Oliver softly brushed her damp hair away from her face. He secured his hold on her, then turned back around and started running again, hoping he would reach the secret chamber before the ACU caught up and open fired.

**

Oliver and Felicity made it to the chamber 12 minutes later. Oliver found the marker he placed there last year, an arrowhead he wedged into the wall just below the entrance. Unless the ACU stopped for a closer look, the chamber was well camouflaged and not easily found. About 3 feet above the marker was a small crawl way. Oliver was able to hoist the sleeping body of Felicity into the space then squeeze in next to her.

Once inside the chamber, Oliver gently laid Felicity onto a small cot and covered her with some blankets he stored there. There was also some supplies, food and water, enough to last them for at least a week. Felicity instinctively curled into a fetus position and fell into a deeper sleep. Oliver was relieved that her breathing had evened out as he began to feel his own exhaustion move through his body. He might be a superhero, but he was still mortal. He pulled up a small camping chair and sat down next to Felicity. He felt a familiar comfort being next to her. He was now in complete protective mode.

After about 10 minutes, Oliver surrendered to his mortality and fell asleep.

**

Felicity came awake, and as she opened her eyes, she saw Oliver sleeping in a chair next to her. She had never felt as tired as she did now. It settled into her bones like lead bars. This whole day was so surreal. In the Bunker, before Susan changed everything for them, Oliver and Felicity had been finally reaching out to one another. A few days ago, Felicity felt a shift in how she was handling everything that came between them. After the debacle that was Helix and the danger they represented, Felicity reminded herself that the only time in the past 5 years she felt truly safe was with Oliver and the crusade she joined him in. After John told Oliver about her participation in Helix, Oliver was able to track her down. Felicity had lost count over the years of how many times Oliver had come to her rescue, whether she wanted him to or not. In the case of Helix, she had lost control of the situation and Oliver was a welcome sight when he burst into their lair.

As these memories took hold of her, Oliver woke and sat up, reaching his hand out to her. “Hey, “ he asked her. “Are you okay?”

Felicity stared back at him. “Yeah,” she replied. “I think so. Thanks to you, Oliver. I would have been caught without you.”

Oliver shook his head. “Felicity, no. You have always been so resourceful and brave. You told me that you fell in love with me because I always found a way. I fell in love with you for the same reason.”

A small smile lifted the corners of her mouth. “Actually, I said you finding a way was one of the reasons I fell in love with you.”

Oliver sighed and sat back in his chair. “Does that mean that…uh…that you still…”

“Love you?” Felicity responded. “Well, I guess that was what we were going to discuss before we started running.”

“Felicity…I could not have ever imagined having this conversation with you sitting in an abandoned chamber under the city, not in a hundred years.”

“Well, it seems that we are stuck here with a lot of time.” Felicity felt a surge of apprehension course through her tired body. “Oliver, things really got out of control between us over the past year.”

Oliver nodded at her. “Yeah, and I’m sorry I ruined everything.”

“Oliver, don’t. We both made mistakes. Yeah, you really screwed up keeping William from me, but I did too by slamming the door in your face and not at least giving you a chance…uh, I mean another chance to explain it all to me.” Felicity paused and felt the anger she carried with her over all this. But now that they were finally bringing it all out in the open, she released it. “Oliver,” she went on. “I’m sorry too. Do you remember what we confirmed to each other after we saved Ray? We said that neither one of us ever had a normal, healthy relationship.”

Oliver smiled at the memory she called up. “Yeah,” he added. “And then you told me that we were going to be fine. “

Felicity lost herself in the memory. “I said we found ourselves in each other.” She shook her head. “It was all such a fantasy. Dialog right out of a romance novel.”

Oliver shook his head, all levity gone. “Felicity, you were right.” He looked into her eyes, unwavering and sure. “I felt, and I still do, the best part of me is you. When we broke up, that part of me felt empty and without direction. Felicity, without you next to me, in my life, I am lost. Yes, I continue to fight for and protect the city, but there is no redemption unless you are with me, fighting and protecting…and loving.”

Felicity reached her hand out and Oliver put his into it. “Oliver, I’m sorry I pushed you away. But in the spirit of that, I think it was what both of us needed. I think we’re both better and stronger for it.”

Oliver squeezed her hand and smiled for her. “Felicity…I love you for a thousand reasons, and for only just one. I’m done running.”

“Me too. So, what now?”

Well,” he said to her. “I can think of two things. First, do you think there is enough room on that cot for both of us?”

A loving smile filled her heart. “Well, if not, there’s always the floor. What’s the second thing?”

Oliver climbed out of his chair and stretched out next to Felicity. “The second thing is---now we fight back.”

“Great, what do you have in mind?”

“Felicity, I’m glad you asked me that. I wanted to get your input on a plan.”

@hope-for-olicity @almondblossomme @ruwithmeguys @andjustforthismoment @cruzrogue @tdgal1@louiseblue1 @marytagus @dmichellewrites @emmaamelia95 @eilowyn1 @felicity-said--yes @herskirtsarentthatshort @ibelievenu @jamyjan @jbuffyangel @redpensandgreenarrows @supersillyanddorky06 @smkkbert @vaelisamaza @wildirish23

[commonthought1]

On "Getting Help" and Medical School

Hey, Zuko here. So, quick introduction or none of the rest of this is going to make sense. My name doesn't really matter; however, what does is that I'm currently a third year medical student. Yes, the kind that's going to be a doctor soon and that, by all intents and purposes, has the world in front of him. A young black man with a hell of a story and, by the judgments of many, should have it all together. But, the fact of the matter is, I don't. And...I don't really talk about it often. Not necessarily out of fear or anything like that, but simply because med school has a way of telling you that you don't have time for anything else except for med school and depression has a way of telling you that no one cares anyway. See, I did not know that I struggled with depression until I got into medical school. Yeah, I'd have my days when I felt down but, then again, didn't everybody? I started medical school with this insane fire in my belly--wanting to prove that I was the best. I wanted to do everything right and live up to these lofty standards I wanted for myself. So I'd go to bed at 10 and wake up 4. Spend every waking hour either studying, eating a quick meal, or showering. But primarily? Studying. Studying. Studying. And I finished that first trimester top of my class but work down into nothingness. It's a hell of a thing to be able to self-diagnose. For example, according to DSM-V, unipolar major depression is defined by the presence of 5 or more of the following symptoms that exist for at least 2 weeks, with one of these symptoms having to be either depressed mood or anhedonia (loss of interest/pleasure): • depressed mood most of the day, nearly every day • anhedonia in relation to all activities, nearly every day • inability to sleep or sleeping too much • significant weight gain/loss (5% change) • psychomotor retardation/agitation (slowing down or speeding up of thoughts and body movement) • fatigue • inability to concentrate • thoughts of worthlessness or excessive/inappropriate guilt • recurrent thoughts of death/suicidal ideation Studying sometimes felt like a movie, my life playing out across the pages. Depressed mood? ✔️ Fatigue? ✔️ Thoughts of worthlessness? ✔️ Recurrent thoughts of death? ✔️ Sleeping too much as a way of escape? ✔️ Anhedonia? ✔️✔️✔️✔️✔️✔️ That last one bothered me the most. For me, it feels like having a cold. You know, where you eat food and NOTHING has taste. There's no pleasure in eating your favorite things because you can't really taste it. With my depression, the anhedonia is the most crippling symptom. I am a person who feels intensely, who enjoys things very intensely. But I know what it is to force yourself to do the things you know you l or the most, things you pour your heart into, and finding absolutely no joy or pleasure in them. Feeling like you are dragging yourself to even try to do them. Spoken word? Didn't want to touch a pen. The gym? I'd rather sleep. Stargazing? Nope, don't even want to try. Church? I'd rather sleep. Cooking? Bleh. Reading? I'm good off that. Listening to music? Nah. Turned down opportunities to play basketball and video games seemed to do nothing for me either. Searching the earth for something to bring joy and...nothing. My depression traps. It is a jealous, abusive lover and cuts me off from everything else that I could possibly find happiness in. And I've been struggling with her for years. I've almost quit medical school many times. There have been weeks where I stopped going to class. Meetings with faculty telling them that I'm ready to leave. Days on my rotations where I'd wish that I wouldn't ever wake up. The anhedonia has been real. And I've been pressing on. Hell, I've even counseled both patients and friends on mental health, things to do to handle it, given out the resources, and watched them have victories over the battles that they face. But as for me? Well. I'm a third year medical student. I wake up at 4:30 am to get to work for 5:15 am. I work from 5:15 am until 6 pm, with breaks being a beautiful concept but a rare reality. I get home with tons to study, board exams to prepare for, dinner to make, and some semblance of sleep to get. In essence, it feels like I don't have time to get the help I so often counsel others to. I feel trapped but shrug it off every day because, obviously, I've been handling this for years and, obviously, there is no time. But, truth is, I haven't been handling it. It's been handling me. And I've broken quite a few times before. Most recently a few weeks ago after a falling out with my father (complicated history there). It was at that point that I decided to reach out, this time out of fear that I wouldn't recover this time. So, this isn't some victory story. Not one of your informercial testimonials of some miracle life improvement. This is a bit more catharsis. A bit more of me just getting all of this out there. I still haven sat down with a counselor because I still feel like I don't have time. I still struggle with the symptoms. I still type this thinking that absolutely no one is going to care about it. I'm still recovering from that falling out with my father. I still bear the scars of a battle that it's felt like I've been losing for years. But I have gotten some resources. And though I'm skeptical that they can solve the time problem, I'll use them. Because it would be hypocritical of me not to. Because I believe in seeking help for mental health. Because I don't want to live like this for the rest of my life. I want to be happy. That's my life goal. I just want to be happy. So yeah, I'm a third year medical student. He kind thats going to be a doctor soon. The kind that believes he should have it all together. But I don't. And there's a peace that comes with finally saying that. Maybe that first step is victory enough.

[jentrevellan]

SUMMARY: Cullen’s POV to the events of Dragon Age: Inquisition. Cullen x Lyla Lavellan (Mage)! One-sided Solas romance! Some in-game scenes expanded! Plus lots more to come! Reblogs, likes and replies are loved. ^^ **Updated every 2 weeks!**

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-> Read on Ao3 -> Read on FF -> Artwork by @anafigreen​

CHAPTER ELEVEN: Hawke's Influence

The report in my hand is all that occupies my mind as I walk through Skyhold to the war room. The disappearance of the Grey Wardens is now becoming common knowledge and my concern prickles. Whilst the Blight is ten years gone, the sign of the dragon or archdemon flying above Haven has set everyone wondering where the Wardens are. I can’t help but mirror Leliana’s concern. I’m so engrossed that I bump straight into Lyla as she leaves Solas’ rooms.

“Oh!” she gasps.

“Inquisitor! I, ah, I’m sorry, are you alright?” I stammer, my face feeling warm. I try to ignore all around us - the Inquisitor’s court grows larger by the day with a mix of Fereldan and Orlesian nobles. No doubt they will love to gossip about this.

She nods. “Yes, yes, sorry I wasn’t watching where I was going…” She tugs her hair behind her ear. I notice that it’s starting to grow out.

“Neither was I… ah…” I’m struggling for words, and I rub the back of my neck out of habit. Then we both laugh, and the awkwardness is relieved, albeit momentarily, as a loud snicker behind us makes me glance over my shoulder.

Leaning against the large open fire, that’s quickly become Varric’s spot, is the dwarf himself with a tall, dark-haired woman. Instantly I slip back into my Commander mask as Mariam Hawke crosses her arms and tilts her head at Lyla and I.

“I’ll see you in the war room, Cullen,” Lyla says, looking stiffly at Hawke before turning away. I watch her leave until Hawke interrupts my thoughts.

“Well, isn’t this a blast from the past,” she says, a lazy grin on her face.

“I’ll leave you two to catch up,” Varric says tartly, sauntering out of the hall.

Resisting the urge to turn and follow Lyla, I incline my head politely. “Greetings, Hawke.”

Her smile is mischievous, her icy blue eyes sparkling. “It’s Commander now, isn’t it? You have… changed,” she says finally. “I did not expect to see you here, and fitting in… hmm, so well.”

I ignore her bait. “I did not expect to see you here,” I counter. “The Seeker has been looking for your for months. Why appear now?”

“I’ve tried to stay away from all this trouble,” she admits, her face turning serious. It’s a look I’m not entirely accustomed to. The Hawke I remember was always looking on the brighter side, always making light of situations. Instantly I let my guard drop and watch as she mulls over her words before answering me. “I can’t leave something unfinished, and Corypheus is my business. I simply can’t leave it, despite Fenris’ objections.”

“Is he here?” I ask conversationally. This is probably the most serious - well normal - conversation I’ve ever had with the Champion of Kirkwall.

She hesitates. “No… I had to do this alone. I can’t drag him into this mess again.”

We lapse into silence. It’s strange to see Hawke, here, present in my new life I’m establishing. I’m desperately trying to forget Kirkwall, of Meredith and everything I did wrong or too late. And now Hawke is here, and I wonder if she’s spoken to Lyla about it… about my role in it all…

“The Inquisitor seems well suited to her role. Although she’s certainly not what I was expecting,” Hawke says, looking over my shoulder. I turn to see Lyla by the dais, nodding politely to some nobles and exchanging a few words.

“What were you expecting?” I ask, still watching her.

“Not an elf, for one,” she chuckles, and the old Hawke is back. Blunt, sarcastic Hawke. “And nor did I expect to see so many people falling to her feet - including you.”

I glare at Hawke. I’m not sure whether I’m relieved she’s back to her usual self, rather than the serious woman from moments ago.

“She is already a remarkable leader…” I say lamely.

Hawke steps towards me and pats my arm. “Take it from me, Commander.” She is serious again. “When the world is ending, the last thing you want to do is wait. I only wish I had acted on impulse with Fenris earlier.” And with that she walks away, leaving me to wonder at her words. Had Varric told Hawke about that letter he snatched from me in Haven?

I shake my head and follow in Lyla’s footsteps towards the war room. It’s easier for Hawke to say - hindsight is a wonderful thing.

With even more recruits and refugees arriving at Skyhold, all of my time is spent organising and overseeing the repairs along with guard duty and scouting. I set up my makeshift desk right in the courtyard opposite the gates so I can be the centre of all activity coming in and out of the keep. At night, once late meetings have finished, I do try and sleep in one of the tents, but when I just my eyes I have the nightmares of the Circle, of a Harrowing where Lyla is the one I have to kill when it goes wrong.

I hardly see her in the first week of our arrival at Skyhold. She is busy helping with the renovations too, and in fact, the only time we speak is at the war table. I try to talk to her, but she always dashes off, and I cannot get a word in. Her mind is busy - well she is busy - now that she’s the Inquisitor and not just the Herald.

It is inevitable, I suppose, that now she’s needed by so many people, that it really is purely business between us. I am overseeing a report at my makeshift desk, when I look up and see her in a heated debate with Cassandra, Vivienne and Solas a few feet away. They are far enough from me that I cannot hear their discussion, but I am curious when I see all of these people - as stubborn as one another - clearly disagree on something. They turn to look at the little camp of wounded refugees where the strange young man Cole is wandering through, looking at the injured.

Lyla walks towards him, ignoring the others and I watch from the corner of my eye as she speaks quietly to Cole, her face full of concern. Vivienne strides away whilst Solas lingers to watch. I do not realise that I’m being so obvious in my staring until Cassandra blocks my field of vision to stand in front of me.

“Commander?” she enquires, an eyebrow raised.

I look busily down at the ignored report in my hand and try to digest. Out of the corner of my eye I see Lyla crouch down next to the boy and gently pat his back. Cassandra looks over her shoulder to see what I’m looking at.

“I thought that perhaps Cole was a mage, but Solas disagrees,” she explains, misinterpreting my gaze. “But he insists Cole is a spirit… or a demon.”

I shrug, trying not to let the word ‘demon’ send a shiver down my spine. “What does the Inquisitor think?”

“She thinks that he should stay; spirit or demon or whatever the boy is.” Cassandra crosses her arms. “I don’t know what to think, to be honest.”

We fall into a companionable silence as we watch Lyla speak with Cole at great length. Eventually, Solas turns away and walks to his solar. His eyes meet mine and there’s something there that’s bothering me. He stalks away, glancing back once to look at Lyla. It’s unsettling to think that perhaps he also has some feelings towards Lyla…?

“Cassandra,” I say quietly.

“Hmm?” she says distractedly.

“I… I must ask - is there something going on between Solas and… and the Inquisitor?” There, I’ve said it. Now to dread the answer.

I almost think she’s going to laugh in my face. Something stops her when she sees me looking at her again. “And why must you ask that, Commander?” she is frowning at me. Damn it.

“Just curious. Heard some of the recruits talk about them,” I lie smoothly. Her eyes narrow - I know she’s no sucker to bullshit. “You have travelled with them both…?”

Cassandra glances back at Lyla before lowering her voice. I lean closer to hear. “I don’t know, to be honest, Cullen. I think it’s obvious the apostate pines for her - but whether it’s her he’s after or just his fascination with the mark on her hand… I do not know. And… I am not one to gossip, and I never thought you would be too!”

I gape at her. “Not gossip, Seeker. Just curiosity.”

“Oh really? Do you take a fancy for the Inquisitor too? There seems to be a fan club…”

“Cassandra,” I say firmly, trying to deny everything. The last thing I need is for this clever woman to figure it out so she can blab it to her newest friend.

I think that if her eyebrows rise anymore, they’re going to disappear into her hair. “Oh,” she says, smiling broadly at me.

Maker’s breath… “Forget I said anything.”

“You do like her!” she whispers excitedly. I check myself - is this really Cassandra? Getting a small thrill out of gossip? “Dorian was right!”

“Dorian!” I exclaim. An abundance of questions explode in my mind, but the Seeker grins and walks away with a knowing look as Lyla makes her way over. Wait… did Cassandra just wink? I know I must look ridiculous standing there, feeling like I’ve been thrown into a pool of ice.

“Is everything alright?” Lyla asks innocently. Shit, she’s standing here next to me…I look down at the desk.

“Yes, Inquisitor.” I scan the desk for paperwork. “We set up as best we could in Haven,” I say hurriedly, rubbing the back of my neck. “But could never prepare for an archdemon or - whatever that was. With some warning we might’ve…” I trail off as our eyes meet.

“We were all shaken by what happened,” she says quietly.

I turn back to my desk. “If Corypheus strikes again we might be able to withdraw… and I wouldn’t want to.” I think of how I had retreated with the others at Haven, and left her behind. I pray to the Maker every day that she came back. But never again will I retreat and leave her. I try to give her a report, which is probably what she came over to talk to me about. “We must be ready: work on Skyhold is underway - guard rotations established. We should have everything on course within the week. We will not run from here, Inquisitor.”

“How many were lost? At Haven.”

I glance at the roll of parchment I’m preparing for Lelianna. “Most of our people made it to Skyhold. It could’ve been worse. Morale was low, but it’s improved greatly since you accepted the role of Inquisitor,” I smile.

“Everyone has so much faith in my leadership,” she admits. “I hope I’m ready.”

I straighten and turn to her, feeling humble at her confiding in me. “You won’t have to carry the Inquisition alone… although it must feel like that. We needed a leader and you have proven yourself.”

“Thank you, Cullen”. I’m smiling at her - she’s said my name, again, and I still can’t get used to it. “Our escape from Haven,” she looks down and spreads her hands. “It was close. I’m relieved that you - that so many made it out,” she corrects herself.

I still at her words. Is that a small beacon of hope I feel, igniting inside of me? “As am I,” I say, looking upon her face honestly. I notice a small dimple on her chin, a faint scar on her forehead and the hint of freckles. I do not realise we are standing so close for me to make out these endearing details. I cannot believe I left her in Haven and that she returned. It haunts my dreams as much as the Harrowing, as much as the Circle and Kirkwall. Another horror to try and bury - another regret.

We fall into a strange silence as we remember the attack on Haven, and she turns to leave. I think of Hawke’s words from the other morning and I act impulsively - I reach out and take her arm. She turns to look up at me, her expression softening. “You stayed behind,” I say quietly. “You could have-“ I can’t bear to say it. “I will not allow the events at Haven to happen again. You have my word.” And she does, I cannot let this happen again - not be so unprepared and run the risk of losing her.

Her face softens and I feel my heart swell. Does she… does she feel this too? This electric field between us, this wave of excitement? I drop my arm to my side, and step back. I tell myself this cannot happen. She turns and walks away, and I wonder if she’s telling herself the same thing.  

Lyla returns from a short scouting trip to search the nearby mountains the following day. I have not spoken to her since I almost confessed my confused feelings to her. But as she dismounts, there is a piece of her charming self back in place - with her hair windswept and her cheeks and nose pink from the cold mountain air. She smiles at me as she hands the reigns of her horse over to Master Dennit, and walks over, tucking her hair behind her ears.

“Hello Cullen,” she says softly.

Cassandra walks past us and gives a long, knowing look to Lyla. My eyes widen as the elf in front of me blushes and chews her lip. A soft chuckle from the Seeker as she climbs the main steps makes me want to demand an explanation, but it takes everything to stop myself. Lyla has, after all, come to speak to me personally and I will not turn down this opportunity.

“Can I ask you something?”

I look down at her. “Of course.”

She takes a deep breath. “Did you… leave anyone behind in Kirkwall?”

I frown. “No. I fear I made few friends there. My family’s in Ferelden,” I explain.

“So… no-one special caught your, ah, interest?” She

“Not in Kirkwall…” I say before I can stop myself. I meet her gaze and she’s tugging her hair behind her ears again. Well, it’s the truth. Andraste preserve me, what I would give to know her thoughts…

Lady Vivienne strolls past us. “Glad you have you back, my dear,” she says to Lyla. “I must talk to you about something... when you have a moment.”

“Of course, Lady Vivienne,” Lyla nods.

“No rush, darling. I can see you’re occupied at the moment.” She turns to me. “Good afternoon, Commander. Excellent work on the renovations,” she says before walking away.

“Lady Vivienne’s views on Templars are… surprisingly traditional,” I admit to Lyla, when the tall mage is out of earshot. “I’d got used to mages disliking me on principle.”

“Hmm, I’ve never disliked you on principle,” Lyla says, a lovely, mischievous glint in her eye.

“Ah, um… thank you.” I stammer. She was so shy, so unsure moments before, and now her confidence returns and throws me completely. And yet, it’s something so simple and reassuring to hear that even when we were arguing at each other about the mages way back in Haven, they even then, she did not dislike me. She does not hate me. I allow myself a smile as she catches up with Lady Vivienne.