#also. i will forever be proud. that i did some Medical things. better than the medically trained interns

[your-fave-is-bi]

Lab job is so funny to think back on. Loved the work for the most part, HATED THE MANAGEMENT AND WORK PRESSURE OH Y GOD. But god i loved my little tasks. And it remains amusing to this day that i like. Somehow became the most knowledgeable person when handling the like Registering Samples Coming In part. Me, some fucko 20-smth year old with blue hair and pronouns

[nicksbestie]

hi there, i recently discovered your page and i really love your work.

i was hoping maybe i could request something ?

lately i have been struggling a lot with my mental health and it’s been really difficult for my day to day life.

i was thinking anashton comfort ? something just like he knows how hard it can be and he says some encouraging words. bc that’s all i need rn.

as someone who also writes, sometimes i just need to read instead of writing it all.

if this is too vague i understand ! you totally don’t have to write this.

much love !

Antidepressant

word count : 663

warnings : mentions of heavy depression, mental health, medication

it's sad but I hope it's good!

<3

Ashton absolutely radiated comfort and positivity, and it was one of your favorite things about him.

Each and every part of him felt like a warm hug, especially when you were actually wrapped in his arms. You were always eternally grateful that you had such a person, especially that he understood how you were feeling sometimes. 

You didn’t like that he had been where you were, as the feelings of depression and anxiety, and other struggles with your mental health were painful, and you couldn’t imagine putting any of that onto him. But it was so appreciated by you that he could understand exactly what you were feeling, and knew exactly how to comfort you. He couldn’t fix it, but he was incredibly good at making it feel a little bit better. He was like an antidepressant in human form.

You were so grateful for him on days like these. And unfortunately, it was one of those days. Sometimes, like now, it was one of those weeks, those months, those slumps that feel like they’re going to last forever and there’s no light at the end of the tunnel. But Ashton was a light, like a soft ray of sunshine, the kind that seeps through your swaying curtains to gently wake you up in the morning. 

You had woken up, having an awful day the day before, and you could just feel that things weren’t changing today. You felt awful, and all you did was roll over in bed, curling up to Ashton’s chest, and attempting to fall back asleep. He began to stir, smiling as he pressed a gentle kiss to your head, an arm stretching out around your waist and pulling you impossibly closer. It was like he could feel the sadness seeping out of you, the overwhelming exhaustion, because he hugged you so tight, his chin resting on your head before he spoke. 

“Not any better today?”

The exhaustion was so great that you couldn’t even formulate a verbal response. You just shook your head, not really moving much more than you absolutely have to. He let out a soft hum of affirmation, slowly pulling the blankets off and slipping out of bed. You frowned at his disappearance, but still didn’t feel like getting up, so you laid in silence, a slight smile crossing your face when he promised to be right back. And he kept that promise, coming back with a slightly clenched fist and a water bottle, sitting down next to you and gently coaxing you to sit up. 

“Here, my love. I know you don’t take your medication as often as you should, take it today. It might do you some good.” 

You didn’t want to, at all. But because he was gently encouraging you, you did. The small white pill went down easily, but you still felt that Ashton was a bigger antidepressant than the medicine you had just swallowed. He laid back down next to you, moving to the other side of the bed before wrapping his arms around you. 

“It’s okay to feel like this, you know. I know it’s hard, and I know it absolutely sucks. But it’s okay. You don’t have to feel like you’re a burden, or anything like that. I understand, and I’m always going to be here for you. I’m so proud of you, and that’s never going to change. You’re allowed to have bad days, life is so difficult and it’s a lot to handle. We can just have a rest day today. I love you.” 

You felt too choked up to muster a reply, too overwhelmed with feelings of love and the warm bubbly feeling of being cared about and understood, just squeezing his hand three times to signify that you loved him as well. And if you spent the rest of the day in bed, curled up with him, eating and drinking when he softly helped, then nobody except the two of you had to know.

[blinkaftermidnight]

2, 17, 29, and 36

2. Anything that you’d like to write but feel like you’re unable to?

You know, I really never thought I'd be able to write anything Star Wars, but I've proven myself wrong with that. I took a stab at a Leatin Grey's Anatomy, but it's so easy to get bogged down in the medical side that I didn't get very far with it.

Still, Star Wars fics feel very difficult for me even though I'd like to write them. It's just an intimidating fandom, and I read a lot of published Star Wars works and know I can't write like that.

I do have a fic from The Wilds that I finished forever ago and have the perfect title for, but something about it feels so wrong that I can't convince myself to put it out there. Maybe I'll take another stab at editing it sometime and throw it out with a disclaimer lol. I guess that doesn't technically count because I DID write it, I just don't think I accomplished what I was trying to do.

17. Past or present tense? Why?

Present. Every since I read The Hunger Games way back when, I've written in present tense. There might be some fics of mine out there in past tense (maybe old ones? I honestly don't know), but writing I prefer present. It sounds better, to me. Reading I don't really care or tend to notice.

29. What’s the hardest thing about writing?

Making myself do it lmaoo. Honestly, a lot of times it's FEELING like I've told the story I wanted to tell and turned it into something decent. Also descriptions take more mental energy and usually get shoved into the editing process because if the words are flowing, I like to let it go and fix it later.

Also editing is hard but sometimes I kind of enjoy it more than I enjoy writing it the first time lmao.

Also just...finishing something. So endings. And titles.

36. How do you come up with fic titles? What’s the one you’re most proud of?

Speaking of titles - song lyrics for the stuff I wrote for The Wilds and Star Wars. My FTWD fics and older stuff were mostly one word titles or something quick I just made up. Probably some song lyrics there, too. Titles are hard. They usually come last for me. I'll be ready to post and end up like oh shit I need a title.

Honestly my titles feel so cringey to me so I don't know if I'm proud of any of the song lyrics I snatched in particular. I do have a soft spot for we're falling apart still we hold together, but that might only be because I actually like that fic and I like its potential to be something even better.

Feel free to send more!

[feralgremlinchild]

Tw death, medical, child custody

(also I can’t remember how to do a read more so heads up it’s a long post)

I’ve been gone a while, I kept meaning to return but everything in life just kept getting worse. Taking care of my mother became more of a challenge, and the past 6 months she was in hospitals and skilled nursing homes. We had some good times together, I took her to see the eras tour in theater because she absolutely loved Taylor swift.

My mother died a week and a half ago, thankfully she was aware of what was happening and she was ready for it. She had unfortunately already been legally dead and revived and intubated before she had a chance to sign a dnr. She hated being intubated, but I tried to help as best I could to make communication possible for her the seven days she was intubated. I made her a talking board.

I tried my best to treat her with dignity and make sure she had the little comforts the past few months. I drew signs for her hospital wall, I brought her her favorite stuffed animal, I clipped and filed her nails, I brought my (retired) service dog to see her because she adored him and he always made her feel better. Helped order her food. Found solutions to little problems like an elastic band for her watch instead of a buckle. Assistive devices and technology. It never felt like a chore, it wasn’t a decision I had to make, I just did things.

She had finally decided a couple months ago that she was not going to take more of her dilaudid than prescribed. And she was actually sticking to that. I had been waiting for that my entire life and I was so so proud of her. She was trying very hard. She wanted to see my niece again, she wanted to be around a while longer. Up until the beginning of March, the doctors told us they weren’t sure how much time she had left, but it could be months or even a year, it depended on her recovery. Her body’s ability to recover. In the end though it was just too tired, she’d been sick her entire life and she couldn’t recover from this last infection.

My niece’s dad allowed her to visit the hospital a couple days before my mother passed. I didn’t get to see the kid because I wasn’t at the hospital, I had already gone home. The kid had been given a phone for her birthday a few days earlier, and has been allowed to contact us so far. I haven’t seen her in person since December, but I’ll see her on Friday at the service. We’ve been texting though, mostly about games we both play and inside jokes.

I had to buy a black dress because my old one ripped. I have lost a lot of weight recently anyways, it probably wouldn’t have fit. It turns out stress and grieving can take the pounds off you even when an eating disorder couldn’t. It’s not exactly happy weight loss. I haven’t been celebrating it. But the weight did need to come off, so maybe at least my joints will be a little happier.

Now I have to find a job at some point in the next couple of months. The insurance money won’t last forever, and I had always planned on getting a job after my mother passed. She had been my full time job for years. I’m going to get a job, help my dad sell the house, and then move out of Texas. If all goes well I will be in New England this time next year. It’s a big move but I need to get as far away as possible, I’ve been dreaming of this for years and years and it’s finally time to start making steps towards it.

Also both of my big dogs have large tumors and I have no money for removal or treatment.

Also also my cousin’s wedding is in less than two weeks and it’s a 5 hour drive minimum and I did get a dress and it’s good but I do not feel like celebrating anything right now. The guy is nice tho, very kind and has what the church people call a heart of service. They’re cute together. And my cousin is great and I love her and I grew up with her almost like a sister, even going to the same schools. But I’m just not in a happy wedding mood. I’m going anyway of course.

[caryatidalone]

hello world

My groundbreaking opening statement here is that my life has not turned out exactly like I once expected. I’m not even particularly surprised. I honestly, actually, fully expected that it wouldn’t go as expected. I even wrote my grad school entrance essay on it. They offered the vaguest prompt in the world, asking about my plans and goals for the degree, and I pointed out that the only predictable thing is that we make plans, and the universe changes them for us.

My whole adolescence, everyone predicted that I’d be an artist. It made my dad so nervous. He actually suggested medical school once. But everybody else thought I’d probably be a dancer. It seemed most likely, given that I came out unable to sit still and never stopped. Author was the next most popular guess, as clearly, I have not stopped scribbling yet, and I’m still chipping away at the lifelong project of bricking myself up inside a fortress made of books. Both of those potentialities still live in my brain and my bones, and I still think of myself as an artist. But it is a fact that there are more days where I don’t work at those things than days that I do. Most days I’m good with that. I found my way to a boring, normal desk job I feel mostly good about (as much as I can manage in our beloved, late-stage-capitalism hellscape). It’s work that suits the way my brain is built. And I’m really proud of the fact that I’ve gotten myself to the point that my hierarchy of needs is doing pretty okay. I’m also capable of recognizing the privilege in that statement. But naturally having the majority of my needs met means I’ve started to look around me for some sort of task to distract my undiagnosed ADHD brain.

What can I say? I love a project. And if it’s one that lets me sit indoors and drink a lot of tea while I work on it, all the better. So I’ve drifted back to writing. Having found a way to make a living that actually stimulates my brain a bit has managed to make my brain want to work more. It’s nice, to have an appetite for creating again. Although in my case, thinking about writing means overthinking about what to write about.

So in coming back around to writing, I did some examination of what it is I love the most, what I could be passionate enough about to meditate on it forever. Not that that is necessary for writing. It’s just that my brain demands a hyperfixation. I want my project to have focus, because I’m that kind of nerd.

I read this book once that I loved. It was strange and romantic and the main characters foibles were so familiar to me. It’s not important what book it was. I have this thing about my criteria for what media I love. I don’t necessarily need a thing to be good. I don’t care if it’s critically acclaimed or not, cringe or not. Whatever. I just know my sensibilities, and if there are enough of the things that make my weird little heart beat faster, then I don’t care much about anything else. Honestly, a ton of my favorite movies and stuff like that, I rarely ever recommend to other people because I get that they’re not that great, even if I get tingles. But the book stuck with me, and one part in particular. This artist talks about his career and how he came to focus on the main theme of his subject matter. Somebody told him at just the right formative age that every artist had to have a thing they’re obsessed with. An image, or an aesthetic, or a movement, whatever it was that would fuel them forever. What’s that quote about find the thing you love and let it kill you? It’s like that. I don’t even know if I actually believe it’s true that an artist needs that. I think an artist could easily be fulfilled and successful by constantly seeking out new things. Granted, then I start to wonder if that particular artist is just obsessed with the new, and soon my brain starts to ouroboros itself. So I don’t think too hard about the possible universal truth, and just consider my own instead.

If there’s any one thing that I could really be obsessed with, it’s love. The whole goddamn concept of love. And everything to do with it. Like I truly cannot overstate how much and to what depth do I consider the idea of falling in love and being in love and all the trappings that go with it all. Not just the emotion. Way beyond that, I’m also studying the kissing scenes in movies way too closely. I’m choreographing dances in my head to the most romantic songs, whether that means the lush production number of my dreams, or idle fantasies about an intensely intimate but simple slow dance in the living room. I’m mentally cataloging meaningful gestures between fictional characters. I’m making lists of the ideal characteristics that my perfect love would possess, and being very, very specific, a la the romcom queen, Sandra Bullock in Practical Magic. I get it Sandy. I, too, would welcome a hot man with one green eye and one blue. Although that’s not a dealbreaker for me. It just sounds lovely.

So my ADHD brain demands a hyperfixation, my nerd brain demands a thesis, and the millennial need to put content in the world has brought me here. I’m too introverted and lazy to produce a podcast, but I’ll overanalyze the one thing that will forever hold my attention until the cows come home. A blog for my soft, squishy little heart to wring itself out into. Because I’m fucking lonely, and maybe if I can put a little love out into the world, even in the form of overly academic, anonymous ramblings, I think that would be nice. And I don’t plan to hold back. Other than my name. You can call me caryatid.

[bumbleklee]

how genshin characters would react to you have suicidal thoughts or self-harm thoughts

masterlist | 1k prompt masterlist | discord server

★ request for @ranbalsa <3 sorry this is so delayed, pls forgive me

★ content warning: this could be extremely triggering for some! there will be mentions of suicidal and self-harm thoughts as well as mentions of self-harm scars (national suicide prevention hotline: 800-273-8255)

★ characters included: beidou, fischl, lisa, jean, ningguang, kaeya, venti, albedo, zhongli, childe and diluc - these can be interpreted as platonic or romantic

beidou

if i had to choose one word to describe beidou, it would be caring

between the way people talk so highly about her in their voice lines to the little kids that like to play pirates and are always talking about how she gives them candy, it’s clear beidou is a very kindhearted person

so if you were having bad thoughts about hurting yourself, beidou would stop what she was doing and get you on her ship in no time

she figured that being out in the middle of the sea gave you no chance to actually hurt yourself + the waves and serenity were sure to calm you

she would spend the entire trip by your side, whispering how important you were to her and everyone back home and how foolish it would be if you took your own life

she would also get down to the root of the issue and try to give you as much advice as possible

beidou would finally sail back home once she decided you were stable again

fischl

i think fischl probably deals with some of these issues herself since her whole personality is based off a story book

but speaking of that, if you go to fischl in a state of panic i think she would sit you down on her bedroom floor and read you a book

her calming voice mixed with the distraction of a fairytale would help your breathing even out and you would ultimately forget about those thoughts you were having

if the story didnt help, then she would just talk to you about anything and everything

she might even invite bennett and razor over and four of you could make a little powow in her living room to make you feel better about yourself

lisa

even hearing you mention hurting yourself would send lisa into a “motherly mode” 

she may not seem like it, but she cared deeply for everyone in mondstadt and never wanted anyone to hurt like that - especially you

like fischl, lisa would probably try distracting you with a book

she would take you into the library and pick out some novels or stories that would take your mind off your previous thoughts

she would sit with you and when you were ready, talk to you about why you were feeling the way you were and what she could do to help

she’s a smart women and if there’s one thing she understands more than anything, its you

jean

she panics

not on purpose, of course. but if jean walks in you harming yourself or hears you say something worrying, she would panic

she was never good in situations like this, afraid she would say the wrong thing and upset you more

but at the end of the day, jean was jean and she always smacked some sense into herself to properly help you through this bump in the road

jean would get down to the root of your issue and work her way out from there

to help you feel better, jean would order a pizza and let you indulge in it with her and after that, she would listen to you vent about what was making you upset

jean is also good at passing off tasks she knew she wouldn’t be able to handle which means if jean thought she seriously couldn’t help you, she would get someone who could

your wellbeing is more important than her pride

ningguang

she wouldn’t understand at first

it would be a lie to say ningguang didn’t live in a fantasy bubble sometimes

she cared about you, yes, but never experienced your pain before and had trouble grasping it right away

but once she did, she was very attentive 

if you wanted medical help, ningguang would hire the best doctors in teyvat to help you through this

if you didn’t, then ningguang would do her very best to console you

she would try to distract you with lavish gifts and expensive dinners and while it was nice being spoiled by her, it didn’t make your problems go away

the last thing ningguang wanted was for you to hurt yourself so like jean, if she needed to bring in a professional to help, she would

kaeya

he would find out about your bad habit by walking in on you self harming

he was freaking out on the inside but stayed calm on the outside, coaxing you away from the blade and helping you clean up your wounds

you would be a nervous wreck for a while and kaeya would hold you in his arms

like jean, he would try and get to the root of the issue and find out why you were feelings these things

he loved you more than anything and he wouldn’t know what he would do if you succeeded in taking your own life one day

on that day onwards, kaeya was determined to make you happy again

he puts your needs before his and does everything in his power to make sure you’re always okay

and if you relapse, kaeya never gets mad. he understands this is a hard cycle to break but he’s determined to help you through it

venti

he might be more upset than you

venti treated you like the archon in the relationship and when you revealed to him you were having suicidal thoughts, his world came crashing down

he blamed himself for a while and drank a lot more at diluc’s tavern but after a stern warning from diluc, venti realized this was doing nothing for either of you

he spent his days with you, walking you around mondstadt and showing you beautiful flowers and cool bugs

his goal was to show you the beauty of the world and convince you that taking your own life would prevent you from experiencing more 

if you self harmed, venti would kiss your scars and make you bracelets made out of cecilia flowers to cover the marks

albedo

he would accidentally be insensitive, at least at first. your relationship was new to him and he was still trying to figure out all of his emotions so when you made a comment about suicide, he took it densely

he didn’t understand why someone would want to kill themselves and told you that exactly

it was only after sucrose snapped at him and explained how you were feeling that albedo screwed his head on right

after apologizing, he would try his best to help you

he would create new potions that might help with your depression or other mental disorders and document your moods and feelings to help him understand what you were going through

it was difficult and sucrose added in a lot of support as well

zhongli

he noticed your self harm scars the minute you two got close but being the respectful man he is, he never pointed them out

he let you come to him and explain them yourself

if you pick up self harming later in your relationship, zhongli is quick to notice and take action

as aggravating as it was, zhongli hid all sharp objects in your apartment and took charge if you needed any of them for something

he made you promise to go to him if you were having thoughts of hurting yourself again

zhongli would make you tea infused with herbs to help worries and bring you relaxation and (in small amounts) happiness

he would take walks with you around liyue if you were having urges and let you cry into his chest in frustration 

this was childe’s idea but if you needed to do something badly, zhongli would take you into an abandoned part of liyue and create fragile, thin rocks for you to smash onto the ground and satisfy that need

childe

having five siblings, he knew how to handle suicidal thoughts

his older sister went through a similar phase like you were now and childe would help you based on how he helped her

childe liked to wrap you in blankets so tightly you couldn’t move, the pressure calming you down and usually causing you to fall asleep

he gives you so, so, so many compliments during this time. he’s so proud of you and so in love with your strength

he wants you to stay with him forever so he’s determined to get these thoughts out of your head 

if you attempt, childe will not leave your side

he’ll stay with you throughout your infirmary visit and even when you’re discharged back home

he’s scared of loosing you

like ningguang, he’ll shower you in gifts to make you feel special 

diluc

like jean, he panics

he thinks it’s his fault somehow and you have to heartbreakingly explain that its not, that your brain is just wired differently 

diluc tries to keep you by his side at all times for a while

he takes you to work with him so you can sit at the bar or he’ll have you walk around with him through the grape vines in the evening

you wake up more often than not to his strong arms around you and as annoying at it is, it’s comforting to know someone loves you this much

he’s afraid of loosing you like he lost his father

diluc was good at shutting down rumors as well. if you had scars, people would talk and diluc would give them one nasty glare and they would shut up

at the end of the day, he just wanted you to be okay

[graceful-starker]

I Need a Divorce Pt. 4

Summary: Tony knows he needs to change; but can he?

Warnings: mentions of suicide attempt, brutal divorce, mean characters, unhealthy relationships, unhealthy coping mechanisms, POV switches. Also: this is absolutely inaccurate medical and legal stuff. Please look past it 😂

Notes: so it’s literally been over a year since I updated this my b 🥺 but when my old blog was deleted, this is one of the fics I had a pretty long draft for, and now it’s gone forever. But anyway, I can’t stay bitter forever—here’s the next part!

~

Peter doesn’t look up when the door opens. Nurses come in all the time to check on him and his vitals, on how his heeling is going.

It’s been a little over a month since his attempt, and he’s mostly better. Physically, anyway. And mentally; he’s been moved to a better room. There’s still no sharp objects or any strings, and there’s a camera in his room, and the nurses come in once an hour…but he isn’t chained to the bed anymore. He can move around and use the bathroom when he wants, and he’s allowed books without supervision.

That’s what he was doing when the door opened. He was reading, trying his hardest to ignore the real world and immerse himself in this fictional one.

“Peter?”

Peter freezes at the name, not even daring to breathe. This is it, he’s officially lost his mind. He’s officially crazy. He’s hearing things, imagining things. He’s lost it.

Peter slowly turns his head, knowing his soul will be crushed when his ex-husband isn’t there. But then-

Peter feels his breath hitch, and suddenly he’s nauseous. Because Tony really is there, standing in the doorway and looking at Peter with a shocked expression. “Tony?”

The older man seems to come back to himself, clearing his throat and straightening up. “I um…I paid the nurses to let me in.”

Peter tightens his grip on his book in fear. “Here to finish the job? Because I’m sorry, but it won’t be my fault if you go to jail after.” His voice only breaks a little, and he’s proud of himself for that.

Tony winces at his words, looking down at his shoes. “No, of course not. I’m here to take you home.”

Peter scoffs at that, hands shaking and in turn making the book shake. “Funny. What do you want? Did you come to gloat that I can’t even kill myself right? Just another thing you asked me to do I failed at, right?”

Tony’s shoulders slump, and Peter doesn’t know if it’s guilt or if he’s holding himself back. “I’m serious. I’m taking you home.”

“You can’t,” Peter says, finally closing his book. “What would your girlfriend say, first of all? I bet she-“

“She wasn’t real,” Tony interrupts. “I paid her to hold my hand to make you jealous, there is no girl.”

Peter blinks, taking that in for a moment. “Wow. You’re even more cruel than I thought before.”

Tony looks up, anger in his eyes now. “I’m trying here, okay?! Cut me some slack, you’re so ungrateful!”

Peter winces, shrinking back into his chair. “I don’t owe you a god damn thing,” Peter spits, trying to get his courage back. “You ruined me.”

Tony works his jaw, the fire still in his eyes. But he sighs, rubbing a hand over his face before looking at Peter again. “Please, baby, I’m really trying here. Morgan misses you, you’re making her sad.”

Peter’s eyes widen at the shock of the sheer audacity Tony’s showing. “And who’s fault is that?” He hisses. “You’re the one with full custody, you control who sees her.”

Tony narrows his eyes ever so slightly, before forcing his face into something sort of resembling pleading. “I’m going to change,” he promises. He looks over his shoulder at the sound of clicking heels speeding towards them. “I’m working on myself, baby. I promised Morgan. I’m going to change.”

Peter knows he shouldn’t believe Tony. He knows it. But- “You are?”

Tony nods, ignoring the whispered arguing outside. “I swear, baby. No more working so hard and so long. No more being mean, no more putting myself first. I miss you; I need you, Peter. You’re my everything; you and Morgan. You’re everything. I was just…” he sighs, looking down and Peter thinks he sees a tear fall. “I was just so scared of losing you, that I pushed you away. I tried to make it so you couldn’t leave me, instead of making you want to stay. And I—I’m so sorry, Peter. I was…I was wr…wrong. I was wrong. I’m sorry. Can’t you forgive me, Angel?” He looks back up, eyes red and wet. “Please?”

The door suddenly slams open, and a murderous looking Natasha storms in. “You have some fucking nerve, Stark.”

Tony turns his back on Peter, and the younger man feels like he can finally breathe again. All those pretty words… “they weren’t supposed to let you past.”

Nat scoffs. “As if they could stop me. You have no right to be here.”

“He’s still my husband, for now.”

“Oh, so that’s what this is about!” Natasha laughs, eyes still fire. “I’m about to take away everything you’ve ever had, and now you’re out of options? You’re trying to bully Peter back into submission? Pathetic.”

Peter winces. Oh, yes. Of course. That’s why Tony’s back. Stupid boy, getting hope.

“No!” Tony says back, huffing in annoyance. “I’m being honest. I want Peter back, and I went about it all wrong.”

“You did. And now you’re going to lose everything because of it. You don’t deserve Peter. You deserve nothing.”

Tony’s fists clench, and Peter is suddenly nervous for Natasha. “What would I have to do to prove that I really do just want Peter back? This entire thing was to get him back, I just—I just did it wrong!”

“You’re a god damn narcissist, Tony,” Natasha spits, eyes red. “You only think about yourself, and what you want. What’s good for Tony, not what’s good for Tony and Peter. You are a monster, incapable of putting others first or doing anything that doesn’t lead to a direct reward to you!” She crosses her arms, breath coming quicker in her anger.

“Oh, I’m a narcissist?” He asks coolly, and Peter can practically see the eye narrowing that follows a verbal berating. Tony is, if nothing, consistent. “You’re the one that’s so desperate to make a career for yourself that you checked your client into a looney bin so you can take everything from me, against his wishes!”

Natasha laughs at that, smirk sharp. “You think I need this case? Honey, I made a career for myself long before Peter needed me. I’m not even doing this for the money, I’m doing it pro-bono. Don’t look so shocked, you think he could afford me if I was charging? You kicked him out and left him with nothing. He was living in a god damn studio and surviving off of canned soup; you know, the ones that say “10 cans for $10”? Not to mention you had Potts fire him, so he didn’t have a job anymore. He had nothing but college debt to his name, and you even asked for more from him in the divorce.”

Tony doesn’t say anything, but his shoulders are heaving, likely with the power of his breathing.

“Only a monster would do that, Tony. You deserve nothing. Especially not a second chance. Oh, sorry, more like millionth chance.”

Tony storms past her, knocking shoulders and stomping his way out of the building.

And the spell breaks.

Peter really thought that Tony was willing to change. That he would do his best to be what Peter needed, because he loves Peter.

But no, someone willing to change wouldn’t have left just like that. If he’s being honest with himself, someone wanting to change wouldn’t pay out the nurses to get access to someone they aren’t allowed to see. He should have known better.

“Are you okay, Pete?” Natasha asks, fixing her hair and brushing off her suit.

Peter nods, shakily grabbing his book again. “Yeah. I’m just…I really wanted to go with him. I thought…” Peter chokes on tears. “I thought he meant it, Nat. I thought he would change for me. That he thought I was worth it. That was dumb…”

Natasha hugs Peter, kissing the top of his head. “Not stupid, baby. Hopeful.”

~

“That god damn bitch!”

Bruce looks up, fighting the urge to roll his eyes. He puts his tumbler down as Tony walks in, and crosses his arms over his desk. “Excuse me?”

“Romanoff!” He screams, slamming the door shut and then kicking it in anger. Bruce raises a brow, unimpressed. “She’s a fucking bitch.”

“Watch it,” Bruce warns, looking back down at his paper work. “What were you doing talking to her in the first place?”

“I went to visit Peter at the hospital he’s staying in-“

Bruce’s head snaps up, and he crinkles the papers he’s holding. “You did not,” he whispers, horrified.

“What?!” Tony asks, defensive. He sits aggressively in the chair in front of Bruce’s desk.

Bruce groans and puts his head in his hands. “You’re a fucking idiot. What is the one fucking thing I told you not to do?!”

Tony is silent until Bruce looks up. At least he has the decency to look smaller. “You told me never to talk to Peter again, after the call Morgan made to him. But this was different, you told me to change-“

“You can’t change!” Bruce yells, standing up so he’s towering over his client. “I’ve been your friend for twenty fucking years, and you don’t change. You don’t change!” He slams a fist on the desk in frustration.

“I-I could if I wanted to! If I had the right reason, Bruce, and I have the right-“

“She was leaving you,” Bruce interrupts. He watches as Tony’s jaw snaps shut. “When she got in the crash. She was taking Morgan and running, because she was scared that you would treat Morgan as badly as you treated her.”

“You’re lying,” Tony whispers, holding onto the armrests tightly. “You’re lying, she wasn’t-“

Bruce sits back down, pulling open a drawer. He’s satisfied that it makes Tony stop. He only needs to search for a moment, before he finds it. “‘Dear Bruce, I regret to inform you that I am leaving Tony and taking Morgan with me. I know you would never-‘ don’t say a god damn word Tony, listen to this. ‘I know you would never represent me over Tony, so I won’t ask you to. The only thing I ask is that you stall Tony until I can find a lawyer myself. I’m going back to California, I won’t tell you where in case he asks, so you won’t have to lie. Hopefully he won’t notice we are gone until it’s too late.’” He tosses the letter at Tony aggressively, watching it hit him in the face before settling in his lap.

Tony stares at it, refusing to touch it though. “No. No, she was going to the store. She told me she was going to the store, and then-“

“Of course she did, she didn’t want you looking for her.” He stands again, going over to a bookshelf and browsing just so he won’t have to look at Tony. “You’ve always been this way. Always been a narcissist, always-“

“That!” Tony yells, standing up and pushing the chair behind him with a scrape. The noise irritates Bruce. “That word. She called me that, Natasha.”

“Because you are one,” Bruce scoffs, and then he freezes. “You are one…” his voice tilts as the realization dawns on him. He turns on his heel, eyes wide. “You are one!”

“Okay, I get it, stop-“

“No, you are one.” Bruce laughs, running a hand through his hair. “It’s not just an insult Tony, it’s a personality disorder. You can get diagnosed and treated for it.”

Tony shakes his head, hands up in a confused gesture. “What are you-“

“Tony, don’t you see?” He goes back to his desk, opening another drawer and fingering through the files. “If you can get treated, you can change. It’ll take years, countless therapy sessions, and more work from you than I’ve seen you put into anything in the twenty years I’ve known you—but if I can prove that you—a hah!” He pulls out a file and throws it on the desk, opening it quickly. “I had a client that successfully postponed a divorce because he could prove he had undiagnosed bipolar disorder, which when treated, stopped the symptoms that made his wife want to leave him. She didn’t want the divorce anymore after he was treated, so-“

“Bruce, this is different…” Tony sits back down. “I’m an asshole, but I’m not-“

“I think you are.” Bruce says, looking through the file until he finds the phone number. “I’m calling a psychologist, she can diagnose you. If we can get this diagnosis, we can force the judge to postpone the court date, which means he’ll still legally be your husband. That means you can let Peter adopt Morgan, which is the biggest thing he wants. If you do that, he’s sure to at least try and wait it out, see if you can get any better.” He punches the number into his phone, and holds the phone to his ear.

Tony shakes his head. “I’m not a god damn narcissist! And I don’t want Peter to-“

“Hey Betty, this is Bruce Banner. The very one! Yep, I have another client that needs to see Dr. Pennington. I would like for her to screen for narcissistic personality disorder, but I’ll also take any diagnosis she sees fit. Yup. Wow, really? She’s be willing to do that? Aw, shucks Betty, you’re gonna make me blush. Perfect. I’ll tell him. Yes, the upmost discretion. Perfect. See you then. Bye.” He hangs up, looking at Tony with a smile. “She was on vacation, but she’d be willing to cut it short to spend a few days with you.”

“Days?!” He hisses, standing up again. “No, this is a waste of-“

“Do you want Peter back, or not?” Bruce asks.

Tony stutters, clenching his hands into fists. “What will the press say if I’m diagnosed with personality disorders? I’ll be ruined!”

Bruce rolls his eyes. “Really? That’s what you care about right now? Your image? Tony, you could get everything you ever wanted. Peter back, Morgan happy, no divorce and no losses. The only thing you’ll have to do is actually try to be a good person for once.” He snatches up the letter Tony’s late wife left Bruce, putting it with the other letters she sent him. He isn’t ready to see those.

Tony huffs again, and then throws his hands in the air. “Fine. Whatever. And burn that letter, don’t keep it! What’s wrong with you, what if someone had found it?”

“Found a letter I keep locked in a drawer that’s in an office I’m either in or is locked in a building that you have to have a key card and you have to get past my receptionist to get into? To find a letter nobody knows exists?” He quirks a brow. “The amount of confidential information in this building is enough to put the pentagon to shame, Tony. Anyone found in here without my explicit permission would be in jail for a minimum of 6 months, not to mention black listed from the journal industry for life. No one will get it.”

Tony stands, working his jaw. “Just send a car to my house when it’s time, I’ll pay him.”

Bruce sits, locking the drawers and turning his computer on. “Of course.”

~

Natasha sighs heavily, putting the rest of Peter’s file away and locking the drawer. It’s been a long day; she’s finally finished putting together enough evidence that Tony was abusive in their marriage to entitle Peter to most of Tony’s things, and put Morgan’s custody up for question.

She groans in annoyance as her phone rings, and picks it up without looking who’s calling. “Romanov.”

“Tasha,” the man starts, and Nat freezes. “Is this a good time?”

“Is it legal related?” She asks carefully.

“Yes. It’s about the Stark case.”

“Then no, it isn’t.” She’s pulling the phone away from her face when she hears Bruce yelling. “What, what do you want?”

“I wanted to let you know, before the judge does, that the court case is postponed.”

Natasha feels ice crawling up her back. “What?”

“Last week, I had Tony see a psychiatrist, along with a few other doctors. You remember the Wilson case I had a few years ago?”

Natasha purses her lips, but doesn’t say anything.

“Well, I did basically the same thing. Signed him up to get diagnosed. I can’t disclose what he has without the judge’s permission, but she’ll tell you Monday anyway. The point is, the case is postponed and so if you want Mr. Stark to lose legal rights to Mr. Parker, I would file for a temporary separation order.”

Natasha doesn’t say anything for a long time. Long enough that she hears Bruce shift to check she hasn’t hung up. Finally, after several minutes, she says “I have this case in the bag, Banner. There’s no disorder you can diagnose Mr. Stark with that will change that.”

Bruce hums, and it’s his turn to be quiet for a moment. Then, “Meet at your place, or mine?”

Natasha clicks her briefcase shut, turning off her computer and making sure everything is locked. “Mine, I need my tools.”

She can practically hear Bruce wince as he thinks of the night he has ahead of himself. “Need me to bring anything?”

Nat walks out of her office, locking it before waving at her receptionist goodnight. She waits to answer until she’s out of the building, and the busy noise of New York will drown her words out to anyone but him. “Coffee. You’re in for a long night, Banner, I have a lot of frustration to take out on you.”

Bruce hums, and she hears a car door shut in the background. “Promise?”

~

Peter looks up, and then does a double take. “Mr. Banner? What are you-“

Bruce looks over his shoulder, closing the door softly with a click. He limps over to the window, standing in front of Peter but at a distance. “I came because I wanted to talk to you. As a friend, not as a lawyer.”

Peter gestures for Bruce to have a seat, but he puts a hand up in a ‘no thanks’ gesture. He thinks it’s a bit odd, but doesn’t comment. “I didn’t know we were still friends.”

Bruce looks a bit sad at that, but nods slowly. “It’s difficult, with me being a lawyer in your case. There’s not a lot we can talk about that won’t get me in trouble. Which reminds me—do you mind if I record, so I can prove I didn’t talk about the case?”

Peter nods, and watches Bruce take out his phone to record. He blinks. “If you didn’t want to talk about the case, then why are you…here?”

Bruce sighs sadly, putting his phone on the window sill. “I really was your friend, Peter. Before…all of this. I’ve been Tony’s friend a lot longer, but I like you.”

Peter has a hard time trusting that. “Okay…I…I thought we were friends as well. I thought, when you stopped talking to me, that meant it was one sided…”

Bruce looks guilty. “I know. That’s why I…I wanted to come today. I wanted to let you know that I still think we’re friends, or at least I would like to be. Look, I even brought a peace offering.” He holds out the box he had been carrying, and Peter takes it.

Peter opens it carefully, and then gasps. “This is my-“

“Shhh,” Bruce looks over his shoulder at the door again. “You aren’t supposed to have it, technically. But I thought as long as I supervise…”

Peter stands, putting the box in the chair and hugging Bruce tightly. “Thank you, Bruce. Thank you so much. You have no idea—no idea how much this means to me.”

Bruce smiles, hugging Peter back before pulling away and pointing at it. “Well, I have a couple hours until I need to go. Go ahead and get as much as you can done, and then I’ll come back tomorrow.”

Peter beams, sitting down and pulling out his laptop. It had been kept at Tony’s place, since it was bought in his name. But his books were at his apartment, so he must have made two stops at least. “I was only a few months from finishing my thesis. I bet I could set up a board soon, and defend it, and I’ll have my doctorate by the time the divorce is over!”

Bruce beams at Peter, but there’s something in his eye Peter doesn’t like. “I’m glad you’re thinking like that, Pete. We can get you out of here in no time with plans for the future like that.”

Peter blushes a bit, but starts to work on his thesis some more.

As if Natasha would clear me as in my right mind before the case was finished…

[perriewinklenerdie]

Job interview (Ethan Ramsey x MC)

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x Claire Herondale

Word count: 1,5 k

Summary: Landry Olsen goes to speak to the Head of the Diagnostic Team in hopes of working in Ethan Ramsey's team.

Warnings: None

A/N: Just Landry being Landry. And my two idiots being in love - this time with actual words being said. Also, Ethan being protective and proud - you know, like a husband.

Landry Olsen walked the halls of Bloom Edenbrook with his head held high. After two years of being gone, he felt a familiar feeling of pride at the sight of rooms and staff, no matter how many changes have taken place.

The news of a job opening in the Diagnostic Team flooded the medical community, reaching the doctors of Solomon Kenmore. In particular, Landry Olsen. It was like his dream came true once more, like he got a second chance at this.

Since his residency ended, he knew for sure that Claire’s residency was over too. For an opening in the team to happen now? It couldn’t have been a coincidence – she must have packed her bags and left, leaving a space for him to fill. Leaving him a chance to finally work by Ethan Ramsey’s side and prove to him that he was a better doctor between him and his former friend.

That’s what brought him to Edenbrook. He didn’t think to check, so blinded with his pride that he strutted to the nurse’s station, asked where the new DT office was and, as soon as he got the confirmation that the head of the team was in, walked towards the place that would grant him a new start for his career.

He straightened his shirt, shaking in anticipation to see his medical hero, sitting behind the desk, waiting for him to give him his resume – waiting for Landry to join the team, like he should have done two years ago.

A screeching sound of an alarm blared in his ears when he stepped through the door and casted his gaze onto the figure sitting behind the desk. They were hunched over a chart, drumming the pencil against the smooth surface under their palm. Their coat was draped over the back of the chair they were sitting on, completely in their element – like they owned the place.

At the sound of the steps, they spoke up. “Ethan, babe, you’re early, you said you’d be here in ten minutes- “ Claire lifted her gaze from the lines of patient information and moved it towards the person standing two meters from her. “Oh.”

They stared at each other in silence, neither sure what to do. Landry’s brain didn’t register the term of endearment she used in regards to Ethan Ramsey, too shocked by seeing her in the room to notice the additional information.

“I didn’t expect to see you here.” He managed to spit out, shaking himself off mentally. She raised an eyebrow.

“Who did you expect to see? You knew I was in the team, Landry.”

“I heard about an opening in the team, and since our residencies are over, I figured that… you’d leave.” He explained, shrugging as though his line of thought was the sanest thing in the world. Claire nodded slowly, sending him a strange look.

“I see. And, well, as you can see, that’s not the case. As a matter of fact-“

“That’s the last time I let you choose our lunch option, Claire. The traffic could not have been worse.” Ethan’s voice interrupted her as he walked into the room. At the sight of a faintly familiar face, he stopped in his tracks. Only for a moment, though, because he resumed his stride pretty much immediately, joining Claire behind her desk, their food in hand. He put the boxes down, then kissed her forehead warmly.

“That’s bullshit and you know it. Besides, why couldn’t you just order? They would have delivered it, no problem.” She grinned, leaning back in her seat.

“No problem, huh? I’ll remind you of how much it’s not a problem the next time you want those cookies that they do not deliver.” He nodded towards the smaller bag on the side. She gasped, touching her chest theatrically.

“Oh my god, I love you.”

“As I love you.” Ethan replied without missing a beat, his eyes softening as he smiled at his girlfriend.

At that moment, Landry Olsen cleared his throat. The couple looked at him at once, as though they only now remembered that they had company – neither embarrassed by the situation, though.

“Right.” Claire cleared her throat, turning in her seat to face him again. “As I was saying, I didn’t leave.”

“If you didn’t leave, then who did?” Landry asked, confused beyond measure. The next words wrecked his world and he felt ground slipping from under his perfect little vision of his future.

“I did.” Ethan spoke up, leaning against the desk. He nudged Claire’s arm with his knee, winking at her, both smiling.

“So… who’s the team leader now?” He stuttered, not for the first time in the past ten minutes, unable to understand what was happening.

“I am.” Claire raised her chin confidently, her posture straightening. “So, if you still want to discuss the opening in the team with its leader, that would be me.”

Olsen looked between the couple, the reality of their relationship suddenly catching up to him. The kiss, the love confession, their closeness – all like a slap to the face, all confirming what he already knew years ago.

“I… you two- but I- “

“I don’t think he’s a good fit, if I’m being honest.” Ethan shared his opinion, turning towards her. “You’re the boss here, so the decision is yours, but he doesn’t look like he’d be able to get much done. Well.” He gave the younger doctor a dirty look, well aware of what he’s done in the past. “Maybe except for sabotaging his coworkers.”

Landry paled. He wanted to run but his body froze, and he couldn’t move a finger. Memories of the conversation he had with Claire when she realized what he’s been doing came back to him immediately. He still stood by his point – a resident leading a team? In what universe would that be happening? He opened his mouth to say something, but no sound came out.

Ethan smirked at the sight, shaking his head at the younger man. He turned towards Claire and dropped his voice to a mutter. “I’ll wait for you in my office.” With a kiss to her cheek, he gathered their food and moved towards the door.

“You gave her the team because you’re sleeping with her?” Landry finally spit out, his voice pitchy and cracked. Ethan stopped immediately, turning around to reveal the stone-cold look on his face.

“I invite you to say it again and make an even bigger idiot out of yourself.” If looks could kill, Landry Olsen would be a pile of ash from how fiery Ethan Ramsey’s gaze was. “Go on, say that again.” When no other words were said, he scoffed. “That’s what I thought. You have nothing going for yourself, so you resort to bringing others down to hide your own incompetence. Truly touching. Now do us both a favor and go back to the place you came from so I can enjoy my lunch break with my girlfriend in peace.”

He glanced at Claire, his expression melting into a tender smile. “Come to my office once you’re done here.” She nodded, a barely visible gesture. He turned around, leaving the room without sparing Landry another look.

She stared at her former friend for a long minute, waiting for him to say something. When he didn’t, she sighed, deciding to take the high road. “Would you like some water?”

Landry shook his head, taking a step back. He apologized after what felt like forever, then bid her goodbye and began to leave the office. He ran into Tobias and Harper, dropping his gaze to the ground when he passed them by to avoid embarrassing himself any further. The last thing he heard before he got too far away was Tobias’s taunting voice.

“Aw, man, Ramsey said it would get good. We always miss the fun, Harps.” He nudged Harper with his elbow, both of them laughing. Claire joined in, standing up and reaching for her sweater.

“We come here to spend out lunch break with the boss and the boss is leaving?” Harper teased her playfully, knowing damn well where Claire was going. The blonde shrugged innocently.

“Sorry, guys, my boyfriend just destroyed the guy that sabotaged me two years ago. He earned some kisses at the very least.” She walked backwards, grinning. “Not to mention that he has my food. See you in a bit!”

Harper giggled at their dynamic, her shoulders shaking as Tobias reached for a piece of paper, formed the ball and then threw it at Claire. “Lock the door when you get there!”

Notes

Claire: “Would you like some water?”

Perrie: “For your newly obtained burns?”

I’ve wanted to write some Landry-being-roasted fic again for a while now, and this just jumped at me today. A splitsecond decision was made and here we are.

Long story short, I have absolutely no time to write, but I write anyway. I’m probably gonna die because of this, so it’s been fun guys <3

Jk, but not really. I’m probably going to be gone for a while because of my finals. I’ll be back as soon as possible, and in the meantime, I’m going to be here, reading and praising our Queens for giving us the content we need after OH ended.

Thank you so much for being here with me for the entirety of the OH journey, having you here means more than I can express.

See you on the other side of the war. Literally.

Love you guys so much, thank you for reading <3

Tagging separately

[ezzydean]

“ you were always my maybe, ya know? ‘maybe they’d finally ask me out.’ ‘maybe when i wasn’t the one looking, they were noticing me too.’ i know it’s silly, but. you were always in the back of my mind. ” - Stiles & Jackson

“Okay,” Jackson says as he strolls into Peter’s apartment.  “This has gone on long enough.”  Stiles freezes with a peanut butter cookie halfway into his mouth and then hastily shoves it, and two more, into his mouth.  “What the hell, Stilinski?”

He has to wait for Stiles to finish chewing the wad of cookies in his mouth so he can respond without spraying the crumbs across Peter’s kitchen island and he takes the time to assess the conflicting mass of scents he’s getting from Stiles.  There’s a smidge of guilt, one that’s kind of always there ever since the Nogitsune happened so the wolves all just tend to let that one go.  It’s almost a baseline anymore, along with being tired and trying to get his ADHD under control with medication, and as strange as it sounds there’s a comfort in knowing it’s there.  Over the base guilt is the sharp spike of guilt that came along with the surprise in his scent when Jackson opened the door, most likely the same guilt that for whatever reason made Stiles jam three cookies into his mouth at once.  There’s the general scent of male and teenager and pack that soothes Jackson’s nerves even as the scent of teenager and hormones and arousal makes his skin itch.

Overall he just smells like Stiles.  Like he’s always smelled ever since Jackson managed to tame the lizard part of his shifting enough to realize that not everyone was an enemy.

“What’s up, Jackson?”  Stiles wipes his mouth on his sleeve and Jackson doesn’t even try to stop himself from rolling his eyes.

“Classy.”

“Shut up.”  Stiles shifts back and forth a few times and Jackson’s nose twitches as Stiles’ scent turns nervous.  A sour kind of nervous.  Like waiting for test results or hearing that an officer got hurt on duty and he hasn’t heard from his dad that day.  “What did you want?  Or need?  Or whatever?”

Before Stiles can start rambling about whatever comes to mind — most likely the history of cookies or a specific recipe that Stiles found for the cookies he’s eating after he had originally been looking for information on rugarus or something — Jackson leans against the island opposite from Stiles and lets out a breath.

“This has gone on long enough.”

Stiles laughs nervously.  “What has?  Me eating cookies alone in Peter’s apartment?”

“You avoiding me.  You hiding away in Peter’s apartment.  You pretending that we haven’t spent literal hours talking to each other on the phone when we can’t sleep.  You sending me to voicemail instead of answering.” Stiles’ eyes are growing wider with each sentence out of his mouth and this wasn’t quite the way he had planned on this going but now that he’s started talking Jackson can’t seem to make himself stop.  “You suddenly acting like you’re not the closest thing to a best friend I have anymore.”  He takes a deep breath.   “And me acting like it’s not killing me to lose you.”

Stiles just stares at him, so still that if it wasn’t for the fact Jackson can hear his heart beating wildly in his chest he would think Stiles had been turned to stone or something.  He has no idea what to do now.  Whatever he had planned on saying, whatever he had planned on doing once he opened the door, it’s all lost now.  Buried under the pile of words he’d just dropped to the ground at Stiles’ feet.

“I don’t know when it happened for sure.  I never imagined the day that you lured me into the back of your jeep under the pretense we were all going out for Thai food so you could actually break in here that I would be here some day.  That I would feel better when I could see you.  That your scent would bring me more comfort than my favorite food.  That knowing you — and Boyd and Erica and Peter but you especially — were okay would be the most important thing on my mind in a fight.  But it happened.  It happened and you’re the cause of it and the fact you’re also the one pulling all of that out of my hands is… I can’t even describe it.  But it sucks so much.”

Stiles licks his lips and takes a few breaths, eyes darting around like there might be something in the apartment to use as a distraction.  But then his shoulders drop and he leans heavily against the island and meets Jackson’s gaze.

“I was in love with Lydia forever.  Everyone knows that.”  He has no idea where this is going but he nods because everyone did know that.  Stiles did not make it a secret at all.  “I teased and poked and flirted with Danny.  Even though I knew it would never go anywhere.  Even if I was attractive to gay men he made it clear I wasn’t attractive to him.  Which is fine.  I dated Malia for a bit.  Even managed to go out a couple times with Lydia.  You know all of this.”  He nods again.  “But through all of that you were there.  You’ve been an asshole.  A jerk.  A typical high school bully.  But you’ve also saved my ass more times than I can count.  You’ve talked me down from panic attacks and helped me rewrite my college essays when my computer crashed and I lost them all the day before they were due.  So no matter who else I might have looked at you were there.  And, well.”  Stiles takes a deep, deep breath and lets it out so slowly it feels like time stops.  “You were always my maybe, you know?  Like.  Maybe he’ll finally ask me out.  Maybe when I wasn’t busy looking at him, he was finally noticing me.  Just.  Yeah.  I know it’s silly but it was you.  You were always in the back of my mind.”

“So what’s with all of this?” he asks when he finally processes all of Stiles’ words.  “What’s with the wallowing and pouting and acting like talking to me physically pains you?”

“Because it does!  Knowing that I’m talking to my best friend and he’s never going to be anything but my best friend sucks so much because I love you!”

“Yeah, so?  I love you too, idiot!  Why do you think it’s pissing me off so much that you’ve stopped talking to me?”

Stiles stares at him, eyes wide, and Jackson takes a deep breath and can’t help but notice the sharp scent of nervousness.  Not the sickly sour smell that makes his wolf want to curl around Stiles and protect him but the sharp sweet one that makes him think of things like Stiles managing to sneak off with Peter’s keys and copy them in secret and Erica showing up with Stiles’ favorite brownies and the smile on his face when Sheriff Stilinski claps any of them on the shoulder and tells them he’s proud of them for something.

“You love me?”

Jackson shakes his head.  “Of course I love you,” he sighs.  “I wouldn’t put up with so much of your shit if I didn’t, Stilinski.”

“Yeah, well, you’re not exactly the poster child of normal, healthy emotions, Whittemore, so shut up and come over here and kiss me or something.”

“Sorry, man.  I don’t kiss my friends.”  Stiles narrows his eyes at Jackson.  “I’ll only kiss my girlfriend.  Or boyfriend.”

“Then get your ass over here, boyfriend, and kiss me.”

“You asking me on a date, Stilinski?”

“I’m asking you on all the dates, Whittemore.  From now ‘til forever and all that shit.”

Jackson slides around the island and pulls Stiles into his arms.  “I think I can handle that,” he whispers as Stiles’ eyes flutter shut.

“Good,” Stiles whispers back.

The Invaders (6 new messages)

Peter: [IMG] Peter: Can someone tell me why Stiles and Jackson are in my kitchen making out? Peter: Why does my apartment have to smell like teenage hormones all the time? Erica: !!!!!! GO STILES!!!! Erica: hey at least if it smells like teenage hormones it doesn’t smell like teenage angst Vernon: For Now.

[hnychn]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐎𝐃𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐅𝐀𝐓𝐄 [𝐋𝐄𝐕𝐈]

summary : levi wanted to believe the Fates were kind, but he should have known better

warnings : character death, heavy loss, a single mention of suicide, more greek myth allusions, fem! reader

word count : 3000+

a/n : omgomgomg tysm @yeehawslap for giving me permission to write this, i swear when i read their post i was immediately inspired to write this and i'm so sorry to your feelings :') also i swear i changed the title of this like, ten times

attack on titan masterlist || navigation

The Fates had dealt Levi a rough life. 

When the goddess Clotho had spun the thread of his life, she must have incorporated thorns into every string; even now Levi could feel the pricks of guilt that chipped away at his soul each time he opened the bottom drawer of his desk and faced the bloodied scout patches of the lives lost.. 

Lachesis had enforced his life; she had been the one to use his thread to create. Although, Levi must admit, the fates must have favored him a tiny bit if they had sent you to him. You, his lovely wife whom he met one late evening under the stars, a gash on his head and gauze in your hand ready for you to patch up. 

You had been there to take out every thorn in his thread Clotho had stuck in his life; every ounce of guilt, every second of regret had been a burden on his shoulders you relieved by simply being there. 

Perhaps the Fates weren't all that bad. 

They must have been even just an ounce of virtuous if they had allowed him to call you his forever. The fates had strung together a love story into his thread of life and allowed him to invite someone into the most intimate parts of him, allow him to find peace within someone; to create a life together. 

Levi could remember the day when you burst into his office, a smile so bright he was sure even the sun was envious of the warmth you radiated. No words were spoken as you pulled him into your arms and cried. 

It was only through hiccups and sobs did he hear your soft voice tell him he had created a life. And while your stomach was still as flat as it had been the night before and many nights before that, he pressed his hand against it nonetheless and promised to protect the life within you until his very last breath. 

Perhaps the Fates weren't all that bad. 

Isabel, as the two of you named your daughter, had become a nearly carbon copy of her father. not only did she share many features in common with him, she also inherited his strength. 

She was able to hold her head up on her own only a mere months after birth, and she often gave you a terrible fright when she climbed out of her crib at night with a strength a toddler shouldn't have. Though, it was of no real surprise to either of you; you were sure your womb must have taken a terrible beating with the strength of her kicks while she was still growing inside of you. 

And, with her strength and many similarities with her father, came her desire to join the scouts. 

It was the first time in her life Levi had denied her something. 

Admittedly, little Isabel had her cold, ruthless captain of a father wrapped around her stubby little finger since the moment you pushed her out of your womb. You could hear the way he promised to give her anything her little heart desired and often you found yourself being more strict with her. 

Though, this had been Levi's one fear. 

Levi has seen countless people fall beyond the walls. He's witnessed Farlan and Isabel (his daughter's namesake) tragically torn to pieces by those wandering monsters. He’s seen countless bodies piled up in wagons to return to the walls for burning. 

You’ve seen your fair share of horrors, too. You’ve seen the injuries people walk into your clinic with, the blood gushing through gaping wounds, their bones snapped in angles they shouldn't, the limbs you've had to amputate; and the sheer image of your daughter being one of them was enough for you to turn green with sickness. 

There were countless arguments between Levi and Isabel (you often found yourself the mediator of these fights and cursing the fates for making both father and daughter stubborn as mules). But ultimately, Levi had caved as he always did, and promised to train her harder than anyone else in the training corps.

True to his word, Isabel often returned home with bruises and collapsed next to you on the couch, her head falling into your lap with fatigue. You smiled as you ran your fingers through her hair as she tiredly recounted her training with her father and other members of the Training Corps. 

She had recounted many stories of the friends she’s made there; an arrogant boy named Jean who she loved to tease and roughhouse with, a boy with a buzzcut named Connie she liked to mess around with and prank occasionally, and a girl named Sasha. 

The dusty pink on her cheeks when she told you stories about her sprouted an inkling inside of you that made you think she was more than just a friend to your daughter. You only smiled as she went on. 

Though, late at night, when your husband had long ago fallen asleep and your daughter was tucked safely away in her room, did you find yourself praying to the Fates. You prayed no arm would come to your daughter and she would lead the happy life she deserved. You prayed the Fates were kind.  

Perhaps . . . the Fates weren't kind . . .  

Levi should have known the fates hadn't meant to give him a life as peaceful as his (or as peaceful as it could be with you and Isabel by his side). He should have known better than to think the Fates were righteous.  

Afterall, the goddess Atropos always came to collect what was due. Atropos was the third and final Fate, the goddess who cut the threads her sisters weaved and toyed with. She was the one who claimed souls. Atropos watched time and time again as Levi avoided her attempts to collect his thread and grew frustrated the more he slipped through her fingers like sand. So, Atropos did the next best thing. 

She stole a life close to him. 

Levi could feel his blood run cold when Jean walked in, his hands fisting the shirts of two children and his eyes wild with shock. His words were shaky and his eyes were covered in a daze of denial, as if his mind was trying to protect him from the inevitable heartbreak he would experience. 

Levi waited with a bated breath for Jean to crack a smile and admit this was all some sick joke he could punish him later for. That his whole thing was nothing but a nightmare and he was bak at home, cuddled in bed with you and your daughter was sleeping soundly in her room just down the hall. 

But he knew it wasn't a dream, not when you gasped as you did, when he could practically see your heart shattering in your eyes and the way you nearly pushed him to the floor as you ran to the back of the airship. Levi followed close. 

"ISABEL!" 

You had practically thrown Connie to the side to get to your daughter. Her eyes were hazy with the same veil of death you had seen time and time again with your patients and friends. Sasha stood still to the side, her eyes wide and her hands shaking, “should have been me, it should have been me.” She chanted the words like a spell that would somehow transfer the wound to her, a spell that would miraculously heal your daughter who lay on the cold hard floor of the airship, blood slowly seeping out of her. 

The logical medic in your brain delivered you the harsh truth as you assessed your daughter and her wounds. The unforgiving voice hissed in your ear about her inevitable death, the wound is too fatal, there’s no way she’ll make it back to the island. You hushed the voice as quick as it spoke, your heart denying the severity of the situation. 

"oh," Levi could only watch as you clutched onto Isabel, your hands working like clockwork as they put pressure on her wound despite the violent shake in them, "oh, my baby..." 

Levi took a hesitant step closer. It was haunting, watching his daughter who held so many of his qualities lay on the floor, bleeding to death. He had remembered the many times she pulled his hair as a child, giggling loudly as she pointed out the obvious, ‘I’m just like you, daddy!’ 

Oh, how he wished he could go back to those moments. When his daughter was nothing but a small child he cradled in his arms, tucking her safely under his chin as he gently rocked her side to side to lully her back into a deep sleep. He wished to go back to the nights he held your hair back as your stomach churned with nausea and your daughter was but a growing fetus, protected within the walls of your womb. 

"M . . . mommy . . .” Isabel breathed. 

You sobbed harder, "it's okay baby, i'm here, mommy's here." 

You ran your fingers through her hair, hushed her and soothing her as you once did many years ago when she was nothing but a small baby clutching onto the material of your dress. 

She had been so tiny then, so fragile and sweet and innocent. But she had long since grown out of her baby face and matured into a strong woman you were proud to have nurtured. But in this moment, it was as if she returned to the same fragile baby as she was years ago as she clutched onto the straps of your gear like a lifeline, her eyes dull but full of fear and hesitance.

"Mommy please, i'm- s' scared . . ." her voice was breathy and you could see the energy drain from her eyes the harder she tried to keep them open.

You wanted to be selfish, to tell her to keep her eyes open, to keep breathing and push through the pain. But you could see the pain flash in her eyes each time she took a breath, you could hear her breathy wince with every movement she made, and you knew you couldn’t be selfish. 

Levi could see your resolve slowly crumble, the way the shake in your hands grew more and more violent and he could practically see the screams bubble in your throat as you tried to swallow them down to comfort your daughter. Levi knew if he didn't step in now, there would be no salvaging the broken pieces of you after this. 

"It’s okay, princess." Levi crouched down on the other side of his daughter, his jaw clenching and unclenching as he tried to keep his composure. 

Her head slowly turned to him, "d-daddy . . . ?" 

Levi hummed, "Yeah, it's me princess. It’s okay, you did so well, you were so brave." 

"I was?" her words were breathy and rushed as she tried to cling on to the last threads of her life. You could feel her grip in your gear lose its strength and you nearly let the screams clawing at your throat escape. 

pleasepleasepleaseplease, you begged, not her please not my baby. 

"So brave." 

Levi had never felt so helpless watching his daughter's eyes lose their life, he could only sit there and reassure her that everything would be fine and she had done good as she took her last breaths. Images of the other Isabel laying dead on the floor flashed through his mind and Levi nearly vomited. 

"I love you" 

Levi nodded, "I know. I love you too, princess. Now rest." 

The winds howled loudly outside, but there was nothing loud enough to drown out the screams that had finally escaped from you as you gripped your daughter’s hand so tight your knuckles turned white. Levi held you close as tears of his own dripped down his face and an indescribable weight placed itself in his heart.  

The Fates were not kind. 

Life after that seemed to lose its shine. 

Your home was hauntinly quiet. Every inch of the home had memories of your daughter carved into the wooden frame. Her first words, her first steps, her first breath. You had given birth to your daughter in the living room, and where the walls once gave you comfort and warmed your heart with reminders of the first life you had brought into the world, it now made you sick with grief and added to the weight in your heart. She had taken her first steps in the hallways, clutching your fingers tight as you guided her down the hall to Levi who waited for her with a proud smile. Her first words had been in the kitchen, where you and Levi cooked dinner for your quaint little family and she called out to the two of you, begging for attention. And who was Levi to deny his princess? 

You and Levi struggled to find your places in the world after that. Late at night, the two of you often clung to each other for comfort. Though, you knew Isabel’s death was hitting Levi harder than you. You could see it in the way he tucked her Scout badge into the left breast pocket of his shirts, hoping to keep the memory of her close to his heart; the way he avoided every mirror like it was the plague. You could see it in the way he flinched whenever he caught sight of his reflection, his own steel grey eyes and matted black hair staring hauntingly back at him. 

Isabel had taken after her father the most, afterall. 

You also found Levi’s features a bit hard to look at after that. It was hard to look into his eyes and see your daughter staring right back at you with a pleading look to not leave. There had been late night conversations where Levi assured you he knew of his similarities to Isabel and promised to not be mad if you wanted to leave him, 'I find it hard to look at myself sometimes.'

But you only held him tighter and stuck closer to his side, washing away any thoughts he had of you leaving him. You married him because you loved him, and nothing could change that. Even if he looked so similar to your lost daughter. 

The Fates also decided to make your lives a bit harder, as if taking away your first born hadn’t been enough suffering to put you both through. Levi had been sent away with Zeke into hiding. Initially, you wanted to go with him, to stick by his side and cling to your life support, but the others hadn’t allowed it. 

Hango could only grip your wrist tight as you watched Levi climb into the carriage and ride away. 

You begged Hange not to leave you alone after that; because you knew if you were left alone for long enough, there would be nothing stopping you from joining your daughter in the afterlife. 

Hange stayed by your side. 

You wanted to vomit. 

You could feel the sickening churn in your stomach as you stared down at the very girl who had stolen the life from your daughter. The images of your daughter clutching on to you tightly and her scared voice begging you to comfort her rang loud in your ears. Your mouth had dried instantly, any one of the thousand of words rattling in your head stopped by the numbness in your mouth. There were so many things you wanted to say, so many words you wanted to exchange with the girl who had taken your child from you. 

You could see Nicolo’s mouth move and his adam's apple bob with every sound he made, but it was all muffled whitenoise as your eyes trained onto the little girl who stared up at you with a look of horror and fear. 

“ . . . kill her,” Nicolo’s voice buzzed in your ears. 

You hadn’t even realised you took the knife from his hands until you heard Hange speak up from behind you. She begged you to put the knife down, to think rationally. 

But how could you? How could your mind think of anything other than harming the girl who was the cause of all your pain? When the girl who murdered your daughter was right in front of you, sitting on her knees, vulnerable. Your heart screamed and thrashed against the veins that held it in place for you to stab her, to make her feel the same pain your baby had to go through. 

But then she looked up at you. Her eyes were wide with the same fear and pleading look your daughter had in her final moments. You dropped the knife, your shoulders shaking as your eyes lined with unshed tears. 

“Kill a child. . . you- you want me to kill a child. . .” Armin stared at you from the side as your shoulders sagged and a few tears escaped your eyes, and he couldn’t help but realize how tired you looked. As if the weight the world had placed on your shoulders was finally catching up to you and your body struggled to carry it any longer. 

“I can’t do that. She’s a child. Someone’s daughter.” You collapsed to the floor, your hands digging to the carpet underneath you, “I can’t kill a child, not while I know what it feels like to lose your own. I can’t put another mother through the same pain I’m in. I just- can’t.” 

Hange kneeled next to you and placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, her lips pressed into a thin line and sympathy swimming in her eyes for her friend who had lost her world. You looked back up to Gabi and she nearly flinched with how broken and tired your eyes looked, “I can only hope she’s found peace in the afterlife. . . 

“I can only hope the Goddesses of Fate are kind to her soul.”  

[borat123]

Analysis Pro NH Anti NS

Naruto Manga Part 2

Part 13 Finale

The reanimated Minato appears on the battlefield. He asks Naruto out of the blue, if the girl healing him is his girlfriend. Naruto’s reaction to this is actually very flat and careless. He hesitates and fumbles his words, then he falsesly agree and says ”if you’re splitting hairs, i guess”. The defintion of splitting hairs is and i quote: to make often peevish criticisms or objections about matters that are minor, unimportant, or irrelevant.

So clearly Naruto doesn’t even remotly see her in a romantic light. Not that he ever did, his ”crush” on her was only a side effect of the rivalry with Sasuke. He only noticed her because she actively tried her best to get noticed by Sasuke and made herself as pretty as possible. And Naruto being the goof that he is, saw the biggest Sasuke fangirls attempt at getting his attention and got jealous of Sasuke and tried to get her attention instead of Sasuke so that he could be better than Sasuke at something.

Anyway Sakura becomes furious and immediatly punches Naruto (in the middle of healing him by the way) and he comments on how she’s supposed to heal him and that he’s suffered more damage now because of her (honestly if anything they are more like two siblings quarrelling).

Then Minato out of the blue just like his stupid girlfriend comment compares Sakura to Kushina. But he actually looks embarrassed that she resembles her not so positive side. Kushina obviously has her loving, caring and ambitious side and he certaintly doesn’t compare her to that, but only her temper (that sooo many girls share in Naruto by the way it’s not exactly a unique trait). Minato looks embarrased and nervously laughs and then says somewhat sarcastically ” i leave my son in you’re capable hands”.

So he doesn’t actually supports them as a couple as some have claimed. Naruto later tells him that he hasn’t found a girlfriend and he accepts that and supports him.

Naruto thanks Sakura for healing him and then tells her to rest. He doesn’t actually see her as a capable kunoichi and he never really believed in her strength. Compare this to how he treats Sasuke or Hinata where he willingly invites them into battle with him and it becomes blatantly clear that Naruto doesn’t respect her. Besides Sakura even comments on how he only sees her as a damsel in distress and she’s not exactly wrong.

The first thing Naruto thinks about when he sees Sakura’s new super strength is how she’s gonna ”turn him into a stain” if he makes her angry. Her physical abuse on him has obviously had an lasting effect if that’s the first thing he comes up with. Compare this to Sasuke’s reaction where he smirks proudly instead.

We get another perspective of Naruto’s and Hinata’s hand holding where we see Naruto squeeze her hand harder and him smiling at her. We also have more foreshadowing of Naruto and Hinata’s future relationship. She notes she wants to stay beside Naruto forever, while remembering Naruto, she is able to not only complete the Eight Trigrams Sixty-Four Palms, but also combine it with Gentle Step Twin Lion Fists.

Naruto is later at the verge of death and Sakura uses her role as a medic Ninja to try and save him. She talks about how his unbeliveable dream is just around the corner and also does CPR on him (which a lot of people confuse with a kiss for some reason, i guess they’re either stupid or desperate for anything remotely close to NaruSaku). Besides it feels a lot more like Sakura is desperate to save her friend, who is much more like a brother to her than a romantic partner. Honestly the girl has been horny for Sasuke most of her life so why would that suddenly change just because she tries desperatly to save her friend who she only has nothing but platonic feelings towards.

When Naruto’s saved he doesn’t even thank her and just says ”lets go”. The depth honestly astounds me!

Later Sakura performs a very wise decision of rushing straight towards Madara with no plan or warning of her ingenious plan. This is very similar to when she decided to come back and stab Sasuke when he fought Kakashi. Typical case of narcissism, thinking she’s hot shit and can do everything herself even though Sasuke and Naruto (her much stronger teammates) saved her sorry ass. Naruto and Sasuke then help her and she doesn’t even thank Naruto for saving her and only despairs over Sasuke not caring. Naruto barely reacted at all to her getting stabbed. Compare this to when Hinata got stabbed when he went bat shit crazy and almost transformed into the Nine Tails.

Hinata is put under the Infinite Tsukuyomi and mentally calls out for Naruto...

And Naruto hears her mental call! In his protective nature he almost ran out of the Susanoo, leaving Team 7 behind. He is only just stopped by Sasuke. Let me really talk about this here, not only could he hear her mental call, but he also had no hesitation to rush out to save her even though he would leave Team 7, his ”family” behind. I mean hearing mental calls and seeing emotions through eyes, that’s some next level shit honestly!

This sort of validate the idea that Naruto and Hinata are connected. Both Naruto and Hinata constantly use words the other has said (for example Hinata says his Ninja way and Naruto makes a refrence to being ”selfish” earlier in the war. There are so many parallels between them that i cant list them all here). They also understand each others hardships, how they are both ”proud failures” who work hard to change themselves. They are kindred spirits. They both admire and respect each others will to never give up and that’s also ironically why they both start falling for each other. We know how in Naruto people are connected through blood, for example with the summoning jutsu. Naruto’s blood vow to Hinata was him sealing that connection between them.

Inside the Infinite Tsukuyomi, Hinata dreams of being with Naruto, while Neji and Hanabi watch. Which, incidentally, also discards claims that she cared nothing for Neji because apparently her greatest dreams was being with Naruto and Neji being alive.

Interesting how they show Hinata in this panel as it could be viewed as an in direct reference to Naruto’s and Hinata’s relationship and past.

We see Naruto and Hinata standing very close to each other at Neji’s funeral. It was implied that they actually got really close after the war. Hinata is also seen crying at Neji’s funeral so that debunks stupid claims of her not ”caring”. Honestly he was like a brother too her, of course she would care?! What’s wrong with people?

Besides i think that it’s very likely that the Last could have worked to be set shortly after the war. Both Naruto and Hinata have shown (atleast for me) that they both love each other and that they are ready for a relationship. But at the same time, Naruto, even though he’s matured a whole lot compared to the start of Part 2 is still oblivous to real romantic love, even though he has shown signs of it towards Hinata. That he thinks Hinata and Ramen are the same thing is actually somewhat believable since he confuses his love for her with his childhood comfort food that has brought him happiness. It’s actually a very Naruto thing in my opinion.

So it still makes sense to be set 2 years after, the characters need to mature and be older sure, but it defiantly could have worked earlier.

Anyway that will be all for these analyses. It was a lot of fun to write these and hopefully you learned something new by reading them. Hopefully this brought some new light towards NH and also some depth as to why NS was always a crack ship.

Naruto and Hinata’s relationship is something that had always interested me since the start. Actually NH moments in Part 1 are my prefered subject and i wouldn’t mind maybe doing analyses on them too. Thanks for reading!

Here are all the previous parts:

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12

[candyopala]

Stuck in his ways, Chapter 7

Chapter Summary:  Y/N and Obito have to get around the awkwardness of the events from that night, and what better to help with that then team seven in all its glory?

Words: 2.3k

AO3

Please like or reblog if you enjoy, check my rules for requests too! My dms are also open if you want to chat or anything else. 

After spending a whole day on the hospital, Obito heads home for some well-deserved sleep. It is only on the next day, on his way to the field, that he starts properly processing what happened that night with Y/N. Her bandaging him up with a weird look in her eyes, him crying in front of her… the warmth he felt when she held his hand. Why did he do that in front of her anyway? They barely know each other, she teases him to no end, but he can’t help to already feel close to her, even if he doesn’t want to admit it. 

The way she held him…. He hasn’t felt this way since long ago, he felt accepted in an intimate way, he felt genuine companionship with her. Obito feels bad when he remembers too the reason for that whole situation, he wanted to get rid of the girl; he wanted to make her go away without giving her a chance. 

I’ve been so blind, shutting her off like that…

Without knowing anything about his failures and only knowing that ugly side he shows to everyone, she still helped him through a tough time. He can’t help but feel his heart flutter with embarrassment, he didn’t even give her much of a chance. She might not be from Konoha, but there’s still good in her. He needs to take his mission with her more seriously.

He walks down the market streets, instinctively analyzing every single action that happens around him, seeing the faces of the people going up and down the roadway busy with their things. It’s not long before he spots four familiar figures walking down the street together: team seven. Naruto and Sakura discuss loudly about a matter Obito doesn’t bother try rearing, followed by Sasuke and Kakashi tagging along. Obito tries to say hi to Kakashi, only to be attacked by a running Naruto that throws himself onto him with all his force: 

“Big bro Obito!”

“Hey! Calm down now! It’s only seven a.m. for Kami’s sake!” He scolds while laughing aloud and hugging the thirteen-year-old back

“I’m learning something new, you have to come see it! Are you busy?”

“I’m going to the training grounds, I can’t Naruto, sorry”

“Come on! Train with us!”

“Hey Naruto, stop bothering Obito, all right? He’s busy” Kakashi tries to intervene in Obito’s sake

“Huh… actually…” 

Obito’s mind starts functioning, he does need to teach some new stuff to Sasuke and bringing Y/N along would be good for her training. He decides to join them, he actually feels deep down the need to introduce her to new people, to get her more settled into the village. 

“I guess I’ll come along. There’s someone I want you guys to meet”

“Oh, is it her?” Naruto says with a devilish sparkle in his eyes.

“Her? Are you dating?” Sakura jumps up, immediately invested into the conversation.

“Finally” Sasuke also joins to make it all worse.

“Guys, calm down…” Kakashi once again tries to save his friend from his hyperactive trio “He’s just training a new member of the village”

A collective “oh” is heard from the two in disappointment. Great, now even the kids are invested in his love life. Obito tells them a little bit more about her on the way to the field, and he notices that even Kakashi seems a little bit more enthusiastic than normal. 

When they reach the training grounds, he finds Y/N laying back on a tree, with a surprised look on her face when she sees the kids. Obito tries to introduce them, but they end up introducing themselves, with a hyperactive Naruto leading the presentations followed by his teammates and his teacher. 

“Nice to meet you guys! Are we training together today?”

“Yup” Obito tries to say in the middle of Naruto’s ramblings 

“How’s your arm?” She asks him back in the midst of it, a bit of what seems worry flashes her eyes, only to be quickly concealed with a look to the side.

“Oh, feeling like new. Some medical ninjutsu quickly solved it.” He states as he gets more embarrassed by the minute, once the memory of their shared companionship floods his mind. He needs to try to actually be nicer to her. 

Meanwhile, Sakura flies a sly meaning smile in Obito’s direction, to his utter desperation. Watching the whole scene develop, Kakashi once again intervenes, trying to get to the subject of training. 

“So, Y/N, dumbi- ahem, Obito told me you need some help with discovering your chakra nature. Coincidentally, that’s what I’m currently doing with the kids, so we could help you with that”

“That would be great, thanks guys! Out of curiosity, what horrible things did my mentor say about me?” 

“Only the most terrible embarrassing things I found on your file” Obito teases back in a flash, without doing much thinking, letting himself play around a little.

“Oh then I should tell you friend about your new nickna-“

“Let’s start training, shall we?” He interrupts her before she can say it, since letting Kakashi know about that would be the end of him.

Kakashi started trying to teach Y/N a couple of techniques, teaching her to concentrate her chakra and showing her the right hand signs. Obito also explained about the ideal state of mind each element requires, the type of energy each one of them consumes. 

Raiton was immediately out of question, and despite her special punch technique, doton seemed to drain too much of her energy, as well as suiton. She was able to produce a small amount of katon, only achieving smaller jutsu still due to the immense amount of chakra these require, so the fireball jutsu was out of question. 

Futton was their last attempt and the one they were more successful with. She could produce wind with her running speed, creating vacuum spots, using the element in a less concentrated way than the rasengan requires, since she is still inexperienced with chakra concentration at that level. 

Obito was actually pleased with today’s developments; he thinks that she can become even stronger by actually doing jutsu in battle. Naruto was also overjoyed to learn that his new village mate had the same main element as himself, showing her his still developing rasengan, proud of his own training and giving her some tips. 

Obito let the pair talking and went to oversee Kakashi and Sasuke, now training his chidori technique. His little cousin had also developed a lot, and was now opening up to be a wonderful kid thanks to Naruto and Sakura’s insistence on their friendship, and Itachi’s efforts to make him socialize more. 

He then also let them train and sat down together with Sakura, who was watching her colleagues train too, while she herself studied some medical ninjutsu books. The small girl looked at him with curiosity, noting the different expression on her sensei’s friend, who was usually much more uptight and serious. With that knowing look again, she simply stated: 

“Mr. Obito, your main element is katon, right?”

“Yes Sakura, why?”

“Ah nothing, I was just wondering… katon is compatible with futton, right?”

“Yes, both can be used together to create more powerful jutsu”

 “So… we could say that you and Y/N are compatible”

Obito’s eye goes wide with the way the girl says it. Both of them know she is not talking about just jutsu here. The implication of what she said makes him go as red as a pepper. 

“N-no Sakura, she is my colleague, we are just that.”

“I don’t know what you are talking about sir, excuse me.”

The girl gets up and runs into Naruto and Y/N’s direction, winking back at Obito on her way. 

 ~”~

 The team gathers up for lunch, Y/N sits beside Obito’s friend Kakashi, opposite to her mentor, who sat in front of her. She avoided his eye contact, still feeling a little inappropriate for her behavior that night. She fears that what happened was too intimate for her own comfort, that she should not try to get that close to him. She should be his teammate, nothing else. She must ignore that pull that she feels from him, that desperate need she feels to talk to him about why he was crying that night. 

She tries to strike up conversation with the ninja beside her, and he is very receptive, if not for his general lack of energy and relaxed demeanor. She sees a small little orange book protruding from his pocket, is that what she thinks it is? It is! The greatest book series of all time! 

“Hey, is that Icha Icha?”

“Yes it is! I just picked up the latest volume!” he immediately assumes a whole different behavior, now fully invested in the conversation.

“What chapter are you on? Did you reach chapter 37 yet?”

“No, and no spoilers, please! I dying to know what she will do when she finds out about that thing”

“Dude, trust me, it’s going to be awesome”

They both strike up conversation about it for a couple of minutes, Y/N talks excitedly about the romance’s structure and how she finds it poetic in a way. They both discuss the general plots, praising the author despite Naruto’s loud complaints about him being a total pervert. 

When she finally looks at Obito’s direction, she sees the jonin hunched forward, with an unimpressed look on his face, matching Sasuke’s that also seems to be bothered by the subject matter.

“Great, another one, they will talk about it forever” The young Uchiha comments.

“I don’t know what you guys see in this stupid book anyway” The oldest complements.

“He didn’t even give it a try; can you believe it, Y/N?” Kakashi teases in response.

“Sacrilegious! How could he say such things?” She retorts with fake shock.

“Shut up, you two perverts.” Obito says with a scorn forming on his lips, something he usually does that Y/N is starting to find extremely fun and… endearing? 

Y/N, Kakashi and the kids laugh at his little tantrum, and later even himself. He is acting different today, more open, with a more lighthearted attitude, a lot less uptight and grumpy. Y/N feels a little happy knowing that he is feeling better, but she quickly shuts off the realization. 

Concentrate on what’s important here. 

They quickly fall back into training, with Y/N sitting back due to her extreme exertion during the chakra nature tests. After he has finished with his portion of the training with Kakashi and Obito, Naruto joins her. They sit together observing Obito discussing the fireball jutsu with Sasuke, Y/N can’t help but notice the proud look on her teammate’s face when his little cousin does a perfect ball of fire, making her let out a small smile. He’s not so cynical after all.  

Naruto begins to talk about how he needs to be as strong as his father is, and Y/N learns that he is, in fact, son of the Hokage. He talks and explains a lot about the village and also talks about how his mom is always bothering him to make his bed in the morning. The kid is all over the place until he focuses on the subject of Obito. 

He begins to tell her about how he is like a big brother for him and how he taught him his most deadly jutsu, something about a sexy jutsu, and how he is cool even if he has no girlfriend. Y/N, being the innocent thing she is, prods him for more embarrassing details about her mentor. 

“One time he got stuck in the sexy woman form and Jiraya followed him around the village for a day! He had to hide from the pervert in the sewers! And once he choked with candy in the middle of a jonin reunion, Kakashi told me that”

Y/N cannot help but bust out in laughter at the image that forms in her mind, not being able to breathe while the kid continues to spill out embarrassing stories about the Uchiha. Naruto is suddenly stopped when Sakura lands a punch on top of his head, screaming in annoyance with her teammate’s attitude: 

“Stop ruining everything!”

What she meant with that remains a mystery to Y/N. The discussion has to be separated by a tired Kakashi, holding Sakura back with all his force. Y/N is caught off guard by Obito’s presence by her side. 

He helps her get up, giving his gloved hand in support. She accepts it, steading herself up. 

“So, that’s all for today, sewer boy?”

“He told you about that, huh?”

“Of course he did”

“Yup, that’s all for today. Let’s head home”

“Let’s? I didn’t know you had moved into my broom closet, Obito”

“You know I’m not letting you walk around exhausted like that, Y/N”

The change in his tone scares her. He sounds serious, almost protective, and he calling her name like that sends shivers down her spine, in a not so bad way. He also didn’t call her a dumbass, is that an improvement? 

She once again insists on walking by herself, but he insists on it so much that she eventually gives up and lets him accompany her. They discuss her new technique possibilities on most of the way, only for the subject to change as they reach her apartment. 

“So, what did you think about them?”

“They’re nice kids, all of them seem to look up to you, Naruto especially”

“He’s a good kid, they are all like family to me”

Y/N agrees with her head, thinking to herself about the word family. She once had one, but lost them very early on. Moreover, once she found another person she could call that, she lost them too. The memories flood her mind, making her face go serious and eyes to go foggy. 

“Take good care of them Obito, what you have here is… amazing”

“I will, I promised that long ago”

They reach her door, saying their goodbyes quickly. As Y/N closes her door, Obito calling her name again interrupts her.

“Oh! Y/N! I forgot; we have an important meeting with the Hokage tomorrow at ten in the morning. We will be heading out for our first mission, be ready”

[hacked-by-jake]

Can you please show love of jake and mc while mc is sick and jake take care of her

Private Nurse

A/n: Hey, thank you very much for your request. I loved the idea. I hope you like it as it has become now. I wish you a nice rest of the day/ evening or night. Have fun reading.❤️

Pairing: Jake x MC

Words: 1,9k

Summary: Jake does everything for you

A few days ago you woke up with a bad cold. A bad cough attack woke you up at 5 o'clock in the morning, unfortunately not only you but also the peacefully sleeping hacker. You were sweaty all over, the sheets were wet, your clothes and the blanket and your pillow. Your throat hurt terribly and your head felt like a bus rolled over it. Your ears were booming and your nose was blocked. Your throat was as dry as if you haven’t been drinking for days, and with each breath, your lungs have awkwardly rattled and scratched.

You’ve never seen Jake so worried. While a bad cough attack made breathing even more difficult, he sat next to you and calmly stroked your back and handed you the water bottle. The cool liquid in your dry throat felt like paradise itself. Carefully, Jake had pulled the wet strands of hair out of your face as you calmed down and his eyes widened in shock, God baby, it's feel like you’re cooking. Your forehead is burning up"

You feel so dirty, you even started crying at his sad look. He pulled you into his arms and just held you tight. After your little emotional breakdown, he got up to make you a tea and came back with a wet washcloth he put on your forehead. You moaned with relief as a few cold drops have rolled over your face and brought you a little improvement.

Unfortunately, you were so warm and you had sweated so much that he had to go again within a few minutes to switch back to cool water.

„I’ll fill you some water in the bathtub, okay? You should wash yourself and get out of your wet clothes, my love," he said, and you couldn't do more than nod your head.

Your whole body was so sticky that the thought of water was heavenly. You couldn’t have taken a shower, you felt too weak and exhausted.

He didn’t let you go by yourself, he came back and carried you to the bathroom. The cup of tea he had made was ready and a mountain of foam swam on the water. You could only imagine how good it smelled.

He helped you take off your clothes and put you in the bathtub, whose water was only lukewarm to cool you down a little. The water helped you relax your muscles and turn off your head. Even though you protested, Jake had asked if it was okay if he briefly went to change the bed linen. But you didn’t want him to bother if it was your fault, but he just ignored your weak attempts.

A short time later, he came back with your favorite book and sat on the edge of the bathtub.

He’d read you your favorite lines and lovingly pulled his hand through your hair. He helped you wash your hair and when you were done bathing, he helped you dry and put on. He carried you back to the bedroom with a new cup of steaming tea and a pack of tablets for fever.

Although he still looked terribly tired and had to yawn constantly, he stayed awake. He lay down in bed with you after he took his laptop and even took off his shirt so that you did not get too warm while cuddling. He had turned on your favorite movie and pulled you to himself. Your head lay on his chest and he caressed your hair calmly until you managed to fall asleep again.

The next time you woke up, which was already around noon and unfortunately you didn’t feel better. But luckily, you didn’t sweat as much because of the pills and the fever got better.

You could hear noises from the kitchen so you got up to see what the hacker was doing there. And when you saw the table full of things you like, you could have started crying again.

While you had been sleeping, he was on his way to get the right medication from the pharmacy and then went shopping to buy everything you like to eat.

He really thought of everything, different teas, crisps, chocolate, ice cream, gummy bears, juice, fruits like strawberries and cherries. Various soups with which you could probably survive the whole year and vegetables. But the sweetest were the different types of ice that he brought with him if your fever got worse and to calm your sore throat.

And at that moment, you had fallen in love with him again, how lovingly he smiled when he saw you. The way he came at you and locked you in his arms. Kissing you and not letting go while he explained to you what the different medications are.

He brought you back to bed and brought you soup shortly after and carried everything he had bought into the bedroom. With his charging cable for the laptop, he has laid back with you and you have watched movies all day, videos on YouTube, cuddled in silence or he had told you stories from his life. Stories of his escape, stories from the life of a hacker or he had just told what he was working on.

For the next few days, you have never felt so good in your soul, even though you were sick. Jake did everything for you, helped you with everything, and every second make sure you didn’t miss anything. Didn’t working, and only gave himself in to you.

You had felt really bad after three days because he was hanging by your side the whole time. You kept trying to explain to him that it would be okay if he wanted to work or have a little time to himself. That he didn’t have to stay by your side all the time.

But all he did was look at you in complete dumbfounded. As if you were crazy, he had looked at you and made you realize that nothing mattered except you. That he wouldn’t leave your side until you were better off.

The way he was disturbed by your words was one of the sweetest things you had ever seen. You knew the world could end and Jake would do anything to protect you and take care of you.

He made sure that you could go to the balcony for a few minutes to get some fresh air. He made sure that you didn’t get bored by alternating between movies, puzzles and board games or card games. He kept reading to you from a book, and you could swear that you were just getting better so quickly only because of Jake.

After four days and the still failed attempt to persuade him to go to work because you knew he would like to, you even told him he would annoy you, to get rid of him. If it had been up to you, of course, he could have just stayed with you forever, but you didn’t want him to sacrifice all his time just because you were sick.

When you accused him of annoying you, he just laughed and replied, "I don’t care if I annoy you. I won’t leave you alone until you’re well."

Then you started bugging him, reassuring him that he could leave and that nothing would happen to you while he was away. He’d be only a few rooms away.

Sighing, he finally got up and disappeared into his study. He’d locked the door behind him, and you’d turned on your movie again.

However, not five minutes later he came back with a broad grin. Amused you asked him what was going on, but all he did was lift you up and take the blanket with him. He took you to his study, and when you saw the big armchair from the living room, at the place where his desk chair should be, you laughed too.

He’d traded chair for armchairs and dropped on them with you. While you were just continuing to watch movies or videos, Jake had finally done the job he had been postponing all the days before.

Although you have really appreciated Jake’s sweet nature and his concern, you were happy when after a week you were almost really well again. And only thanks to the hacker who had done everything to make you feel good.

There hasn’t been a moment in the last seven days that he hasn’t been sweeter to you than sugar.

Every day you got new energy and every second you lay in his arms made you feel a bit better. The beaming and happiness in Jake’s eyes when you told him you were better, thanks to him, was beautiful. Seeing how proud he was that it helped you, what he did was reason enough to always get healthier. You knew he was the sweetest person in the world even before the last week, but if someone would have given you a dollar every time Jake told you he loved you or kissed you, on your forehead, cheek, lips. If someone had given you a dollar every time, you’d be the richest person in the world by now. You could rent a luxury yacht and spend your life sailing around the world.

Not only did Jake help you get better, he also made it clear to you again, at the same time that he was the only one who could make you happy, that he was and is the only one who deserves to be by your side. Even if he didn’t want you anymore, you’d probably be single all your life because there’d never be man like Jake. Who would treat you like Jake did, who would care for you like Jake cares for you, who would love you like Jake loves you. Every second with the hacker was the most valuable thing in the world for you, and the only thing that really makes sense. You knew before that Jake was and will be the only one for you, but now you knew it clearly. Jake is the most special and best person in the world.

When you woke up on the eighth day in the morning, you finally felt healthy again. Your throat didn’t hurt anymore, your nose wasn’t clogged, and you could breathe without coughing.

In a good mood you bent over to Jake and covered his face with a lot of small kisses until he finally woke up. But when you saw his glassy eyes and the deep shadows under his eyes, you immediately anxiously left to sit down, "Good morning" he murmured with a scratchy voice and immediately you felt bad.

You’ve been afraid to infect him all day, didn’t want him to feel as bad as you. Didn’t want him to suffer any more, because he had suffered with you the last few days. He also didn’t sleep much at night because you couldn’t sleep so well. Because you rolled around in bed or were constantly woken up by coughing fits, and now he was sick.

"I’m so sorry, Jake," you mumble with concern, brushing his cheek. In response, he turns his head away from you in a flash to sneeze.

And you decide to care for him even more than he did for you.

🌹🎭

Masterlist

[jess-rewatches-prodigalson]

Take Your Father to Work Day (S2, E4)

As many people have said: This is one of the STRONGEST Prodigal Son episodes to date. It was incredible. My time-stamped thoughts for this episode are below. 

I reference Malcolm’s mental health and sexual violence in this one. So if that’s going to be a trigger for you, don’t keep reading.

SPOILERS AHEAD:

0:16 - OMG. Destiny’s Child. Whoever is in charge of the soundtrack for this show needs a raise. Or an award. It’s SOO GOOD.

0:18 - How great is this montage of Martin’s prison life too? I mean the insane mundanity of it combined with “Survivor” and Michael Sheen’s incredible acting is some perfect mix between hilarious, captivating, and just brilliant. 

1:06 - I feel so bad for Mr.David. He has to deal with Martin’s theatrics every day. Poor guy looks done in this episode.

1:35 - CAN HECTOR BECOME A BIGGER CHARACTER?! PLEASE. He’s hilarious and I love him. “Bro. You got your ass jumped at Sunday School.”

2:09 - Wait. What? Jerry’s getting released?!? I mean, I understand that he’s no longer in need of psychiatric care......but he still killed someone. Shouldn’t he just be getting transferred to a different prison?

2:25 - Does Jerry have a death wish?!?! He’s talking about being released in a room full of jealous murderers. Everyone looks sooooo pissed at Jerry. 

2:54 - Martin is such a liar. However - Michael Sheen’s performance is astoundingly good. Like he shines brighter than usual in this episode. 

 3:17 - Poor Malcolm. “What’s going on?” Poor boy looks terrified. 

3:23 - I love everything about this scene. I love how freaked out Malcolm is. I love you extra Jessica is. BUT HANS. Holy shit. I want Hans in every episode. He’s crazy in a good way and such a beautiful comedic relief. 

3:30 - OMG.  “Skinny milennial” might be the best thing anyone has ever called Malcolm. Someone please tell JT and Dani - hell, even Gil. They would tease him forever and I want to see it. 

3:45 - 1) Malcolm is a terrible liar. 2) Jessica knows he’s lying. 3) This story about the wine is interesting. I wonder when and how Malcolm first told Jessica the story. Was it the same night? AND HOW DID ENDICOTT’S BODY END UP IN ESTONIA?!? I WANT MORE INFORMATION ABOUT THAT NIGHT. 

3:54 - “Ainsley and I came back from the hospital after Gil’s stabbing.”....we never saw Ainsley at the hospital. Was she there and left before Malcolm got there? Or is this a plot hole I need to ignore?

4:05 - The way that the flashbacks of Endicott’s murder is spliced into this scene with Malcolm’s cover story is so perfectly executed. It’s so captivating and so so well done.

4:14 - Malcolm’s eyes look quite manic during the retelling of this story. Poor guy is desperate to have everyone believe the story. Poor guy probably wants to convince himself that the story is true. 

4:16 - Wait. What? Ainsley has always been clumsy? .....interesting. I’ve seen no evidence of it but I’ll believe it for the sake of the plot. 

4:23 - “At least one of you has a soul.” Holy shit.  hahaha Hans is brutal. I love him so much. I also love how this line makes me, as a viewer, think “does that mean the writers want me to think that Ainsley doesn’t have a soul?” ...or more likely that she doesn’t feel emotion (which can be interpreted as a lack of a soul). That she’s a psychopath like Martin?

4:27 - OMG. Jessica loves Hans. He speaks to her dramatic rich woman soul. So entertaining. 

4:30 - Poor. Malcolm. This boy is always in some sort of emotional turmoil. For once I wish he was happy (but also I love the emotional whump so if that could continue that would be great). 

4:44 - “It’s so much more than that.” *chef’s kiss* comedic genius.  I would watch a whole episode of Mr.David making fun of Martin. But can we all just take a minute to appreciate that Martin doesn’t seem bothered at all that Mr.David is basically verbally telling him that he sucks? It’s almost like Martin thinks they’re friends?

4:50 - Martin is strangely chill talking to Mr.David in this scene. It’s a little off-putting. He almost seems normal. He’s not putting on his usual theatrics or ranting about doctor stuff. It makes you wonder how many different sides of Martin that Mr.David has witnessed. 

5:01 - “Oh no. Not Jerry.” LMAO. HOLY SHIT. Michael Sheen needs an Emmy. His delivery of that line might be the funniest thing this show has ever given us. hahahahaha

5:29 - Damn. This is not Gil’s month. First Jessica dumps him. Then he has to deal with Martin Whitly in the flesh. That plus the on-going drama of worrying about Malcolm’s mental health and the stress of reintegrating into work after a STAB WOUND.

5:31 - Gil’s face. hahahahaha he’s like, “Kill me. This can’t be happening. I hate everything. I wish the ground would open up and swallow me whole.”

5:37 - “Yeah. Why’d you do it?” GIL. OMG. I’m so proud of Gil for dissing Martin to his face. BUT ALSO I worry that that’s going to give Martin more of a reason to hate Gil. I’m genuinely scared that the writers have Martin escaping as the pre-finale episode and Martin trying to kill Gil as the finale. Maybe Gil shows up trying to save Malcolm, AInsley, and Jessica (whom Martin is trying to abduct or hurt or something) idk I just feel like it’s going to be a likely subplot somewhere. I don’t want an attempt on Gil’s life to become a season finale tradition. 

5:56 - Ew. “Gilly” That is a terrible nickname. I think I threw up a little. 

6:00 - Damn. I love this scene. I could watch Martin and Gil pretending to be civil to each other for years. So entertaining. 

6:29 - hahahahaha OMG. Gil’s reaction to Martin saying, “Thank you” PLUS Edrisa’s sudden excitement at realizing she’s 10 ft away from Malcolm’s Dad - a medical legend, is magical.

6:35 - Not gonna lie. When Edrisa said, “Ok. I’m gonna play it cool.” I had to pause my TV and walk away to calm down. I was experiencing a mixture of second hand embarrassment for Edrisa’s inevitable behaviour, excitement for what is to come, and fear that Martin would be a jerk to our precious Edrisa. 

6:44 - Edrisa and Martin interacting was everything I’d hoped. It was strange, funny, sweet, and disturbing at the same time. The sweet, eccentric girl who attends cuddle parties is getting buddy-buddy with a literal serial killer. Hilarious. Even better is Gil’s background reactions as he desperately tries to keep Edrisa away from the psychopath. hahaha <3 

7:12 - Gil is currently living in a nightmare. hahahahaha 

7:47 - I love this. I love how Malcolm and Ainsley interact. Malcolm is such a good big brother. IDK something about these two adult siblings chilling on a couch and warning each other about Mom’s current rampage reminds me of myself and my younger brother. <3 Warms my cold dead heart. <3 PLUS has anyone else noticed that (as long as Ainsley isn’t hounding Malcolm about a story or airing out his mental health diagnoses like the bs from Q&A) Malcolm is extremely calm around Ainsley. Like maybe the calmest we’ve ever seen him?

8:20 - “Oh Ainsley, that’s a horrible idea.” This is adorable. Malcolm is totally acting like Ainsley’s surrogate dad. He’s trying so hard to protect her. <3 

8:42 - There’s something about the way that Malcolm says, “Hey Gil” that makes my heart swell. Idk why. I just their father/son relationship. So much. And it makes me so happy to see Malcolm having semi-normal interactions with people in general. 

8:48 - This. Is. The. Funniest. Episode. Of. Prodigal. Son. To. Date. Holy shit. The comical dread on Malcolm’s face. Martin’s glee on the phone. Gil’s general “done with life” body language. Ainsley’s utter joy at her luck. MALCOLM DRAINING THE ALKA-SELTZER. Ainsley saying “chug chug”. So perfect. 

9:27 - Is it just me or has Jessica been showing way more concern for her children’s well-being this season? At first I thought it was because she was so happy with Gil....but that’s not a thing anymore (because Jessica is a MORON - seriously if this show gets cancelled before Gil and Jessica are living happily ever after I will riot) so now Idk. 

10:02 - EDRISA WHY DID YOU NOT TELL GIL AND MALCOLM THAT THE SURGEON WAS ON THE PHONE?!? For a hot second, poor Malcolm looks like he thinks he’s hallucinating. 

10:40 - Gil hanging up on Martin and then telling Edrisa that she needs to make new friends is everything. It’s vicious. Gil looks absolutely furious in this scene and I love it. 

11:07 - Yo. Edrisa’s got some baggage. hahaha Malcolm looks soooo uncomfortable with her outburst.

11:18 - I would pay good money to watch Martin and Gil have a pissing match in front of Malcolm every episode. It’s amazing. They’re constantly trying to one-up each other. The tension is palatable. And someone Malcolm is the only one acting like a mature, working adult. Malcolm. My mentally unstable, skinny millennial. 

11:34 - OH SHIT. Martin did not just bring Jessica into this. Oh SNAP. Does Martin know that Jessica dumped Gil?!? 

11:56 - “I’m going to need a little more than that.” Damn. Malcolm looks pissed here. Pretty sure he hates that Martin just brought up Gil/Jessica. Malcolm’s bio-dad and real dad are fighting and it’s very clear that Malcolm is on Gil’s side.

12:17 - The look that Gil and Malcolm share here is perfect. I love it so much. You can see how annoyed they both are, how much they hate that they need Martin on this case, how much neither of them want Martin’s help. <3 

12:23 - SOMEONE GIVE GIL A MEDAL. This man just grit his teeth, smiled, and let MARTIN WHITLY - the man who tried to KILL HIM work on his case. Why? Because Malcolm silently asked him to. Because Gil loves Malcolm and knows that it’s better for Martin to work with them officially than for Malcolm to work with Martin in secret. At least this way he can look out for Malcolm. 

12:42 - “It’s taken Dr. Marsh years...” soooo was Dr. Marsh the name of the Asian doctor leading group therapy last season? Is this just a new actor, same character scenario? OR am I supposed to forget that Asian doctor existed last season? 

13:04 - I can’t tell if Gil hates this whole “father-son in group therapy idea”. He looks kind of like he hates it (although he is looking at Martin in the shot). I’m inclined to think that Gil is worried. He doesn’t like how nice Martin is acting toward Malcolm. He doesn’t want Malcolm to get hurt again. BUT I also think there’s probably a part of Gil that thinks group therapy might be beneficial for Malcolm’s mental health? I mean it was only ever going to be terrible or amazing. Nothing in between. 

13:12 - “They hate you don’t they?” GIL BRINGING THE FIRE. hahahaha angry Gil is really funny.

13:43 - OH HELL YES. More Hector. <3

13:46 - hahaha YES. Hector this is Malcolm - the son. You know, the one you had to role-play? hahaha I feel like Hector is a really cool dude (aside from the murder). 

13:53 - Damn. Hector pays attention in group. He has a lot of info about Malcolm. I would’ve thought the other inmates would just tune Martin out when he starts his monologues. 

13:59 - “He’s got a thing with hands?” hahahaha OMG. How did I never connect the hand thing. DOES Malcolm have a thing with hands? ....I kind of want that to be cannon?

14:00 - “You’re crazier than me.”  Ouch. That must’ve hurt. Think about it - Malcolm is ridden with guilt about Endicott. He’s haunted by what he experienced as a kid and by what his father is. Malcolm believes he’s broken beyond repair. On some level Malcolm thinks he’s crazy. Now a literal killer just told him he’s crazy. That just affirms what Malcolm already believes about himself. :( PLUS right after Hector tells Malcolm that he’s crazy - the camera pans to Martin. MARTIN looks scared. Martin is losing control of the situation and he doesn’t like it. Martin knows on some level that he ruined Malcolm’s mental health. He almost looks a little guilty?

14:31 - FINALLY. We have a cannon occurrence of someone calling Malcolm “Mal” (or “Malc” if you’re going by HULU’s subtitles?). I hope the writers start having people call Malcolm by Mal/Malc more often. 

14:35 - I can’t ignore it anymore.  DID HECTOR HAVE THAT SCAR ON HIS FACE LAST SEASON?!? I DON’T REMEMBER IT. 

14:38 - YES YES. Malcolm looks angry. I LOVE IT. Scream at him Malcolm! Give him hell!

15:03 - Yikes. Malcolm sounds like he’s about to cry here. :( My heart breaks for him. .....I wonder if this is the first time Martin has ever heard how much pain he caused Malcolm straight from Malcolm? Martin looks hella uncomfortable here. 

15:25 - The inmates (literal murderers) empathizing with Malcolm is twisted, beautiful, and haunting. These guys understand how much it sucks to hang out with Martin. These guys can see the real pain in Malcolm’s expression. They know he isn’t lying. Part of me honestly wonders if one of them is going to try and hurt Martin for Malcolm. They looked pissed enough by the end of the conversation that I kind of believe they might. 

16:00 - Malcolm is not acting here. For once he’s not projecting his problems onto potential suspects. He’s just venting to suspects. No pretence. I love it. BUT 100% of me wants to know where Gil is during this session. Is Gil listening? Is the session being recorded for evidence? There’s no way Gil (or Dani) wouldn’t confront Malcolm about this. Even if they just asked him if he’s okay. 

16:10 - hahahaha look at Doctor Marsh. He’s like “ooookkkkkaaaayyyy. I’m a psychiatrist in a psychiatric facility for people who have committed violent crimes. BUT THIS IS THE NUTTIEST THING I’VE EVER SEEN.”

16:12 - Look at the way Martin narrows his eyes. He’s trying to figure out if Malcolm is acting. He’s finally realizing that Malcolm truly hates what Martin subjected him to as a child. I honestly think this interaction will cause Martin to shift his “become a murderer like me” agenda from Malcolm to Ainsley. He’s finally seen the depth of Malcolm’s hatred and pain and knows deep down that Malcolm will never turn into a serial killer. But there’s still hope for Ainsley. That’s not to say that Martin won’t stop gaslighting Malcolm - he totally will.

17:10 - Martin has been at Claremont for 20 YEARS. How is it that he didn’t know a gold card existed?!?

17:21 - I honestly thought Marsh was going to get shanked. For the gold card. No other reason. 

18:07 - It’s not supposed to be funny but Burt freaking out and punching Marsh is HYSTERICAL. hahahahaha

18:10 - That guard who pushed Malcolm out of the room and into a safe area? He’s in my good books. Every time I watch him push Malcolm to safety I want to give him a hug. Just for doing his job. What the hell is wrong with me?!?

18:18 - UGH. I hate that creepy, satisfied look that Martin gives Malcolm. It’s the same look he gave baby Malcolm in the pilot. It’s the “we’re the same” look and it clearly bothers Malcolm. :( 

18:26 - Oh look. 18 minutes into the episode and we finally have a Dani appearance!! annnnnnd no mention of JT. I mean, I get it. He’s on paternity leave. I’m happy for him. BUT TWO EPISODES WITHOUT A JT APPEARANCE IS TORTURE. At least give me a throw away line about how happy JT is or about the baby!?? Honestly - it’s my biggest gripe with this episode. 

18:56 - soooo either Dr. Marsh is a terrible psychiatrist OR you can’t “cure” murderers. 

19:08 - The NYPD knows that Martin cured Jerry?!? HOW? Did Mr. David get Martin to admit to shocking him? Did Mr. David tell the police?!? I don’t remember Martin telling Malcolm. I specifically remember Malcolm saying, “I don’t want to know”

20:02 - Damn. I want Ainsley to go dark so badly. I want to see how badly it would destroy Malcolm and Jessica. I am evil. 

20:52 - Malcolm’s burgundy jacket is gorgeous. That is all.

21:10 - Malcolm knows that Martin wants to escape. This is good. I love this. 

21:55 - THERE’S A WOMENS WARD?!? REVOLUTIONARY INFORMATION. I THOUGHT THEY HAD A SEPARATE HOSPITAL. 

22:00 - Oh wow. Finally - a perk to gender inequality. 

22:52 - This Brightwell scene is so cute. I love watching Malcolm be excited about solving the crime. I love watching Dani gently tease him about how weird he is. I love watching them subtly flirt. Is Malcolm ready for another relationship - hell no. Do I think Dani has forgiven him - not totally. If they got together now it would end badly. But I do want them to be endgame. 

23:11 - Andre is really suspicious throughout this whole scene. I’m convinced that if Dani and Malcolm weren’t too busy flirting Andre would’ve become a suspect really fast. 

23:15 - Why do people get released from psychiatric prisons?!? This is a genuine question. I would’ve thought that everyone in Claremont has committed some seriously heinous crimes and only a very small portion of them are actually sick. The rest of them just pleaded insanity and had good lawyers. But even if they are/were sick. I don’t think the types of mental illnesses that drive people to murder and/or rape is something that can be cured.  Sooo why are they getting released? I guess I just wonder because there’s this guy that’s been in my local news on and off for like 10+ years. He’s molested/raped many young women between the ages of about 16-25. He’s been arrested and released multiple times. He keeps getting released to different major cities in my province (usually a city with a big University) and reoffends within 6 months of being released. Most recently he was arrested last month after being released in October 2020. Clearly he’s going to keep reoffending - so why does he keep getting released? I guess I just don’t understand what the criteria are that allow an inmate who has committed that sort of crime to be released. Here’s a link to one of the more recent news stories if you’re interested: https://vancouverisland.ctvnews.ca/police-warn-of-high-risk-sex-offender-moving-to-victoria-1.5149264

23:23 - hahaha Andre is like, “Yo. This dude is freaky.”

24:15 - Look at how proud Malcolm is of his whole “lobster = murderer” profile. <3 So freaking precious. <3 and Dani looks so amused with him.  <3

24:37 - Sooooo Mr. David isn’t listening to this conversation? He left the room?

24:40 - Jessica going to Martin for parenting help is terrifying. This is a woman in crisis. 

25:20 - But Jessica was right to be paranoid in 97′. She wasn’t being cheated on romantically but her husband was murdering people. 

25:24 - Martin is so selling his kids out here. He knows it. He doesn’t care. He’s having too much fun torturing Jessica. He’s rejoicing at the fact that he gets to play the “I turned the kids to the dark side” card. 

26:40 - Poor Jessica. She looks suspicious and scared. Scared that she raised a killer even though she tried desperately to prevent that very behaviour. 

26:56 - Damn. Martin is having a really good day. First he gets to annoy Gil Arroyo in the flesh. Then Edrisa talks medical with him. Then he gets to work with Malcolm. THEN his ex-wife calls him and he gets to toy with her mind. THEN his daughter, who has literally murdered someone comes to visit him. He is a proud Dad right here and he’s having an amazing day. 

28:00 - Rhonda is terrifying. This girl has perfected the “I’m sweet and unthreatening” while lying and manipulating people. I swear she’s a teenage Queen B personality with a side of violence. 

28:30 - I love how protective Malcolm is of Ainsley. Look how positively livid he is that Marin is talking to her. Malcolm is terrified that Martin is going to purposefully and successfully turn Ainsley into a serial killer. Malcolm doesn’t want to lose his sister. He doesn’t want Jessica to lose her ‘stable’ child.

29:09 - This scares me. This is the kind of Ainsley behaviour from last season that made me believe she is the Whitly child most like Martin. Her ruthlessness and lack of a conscience when it comes to looking for a news story is extremely upsetting. 

30:11 - What the hell happened to Tevin? AND WATKINS?!? We got no closure on those guys. Are they dead? In prison? Is Tevin still in Claremont? Were they transferred to facilities outside of New York State?

30:28 - Malcolm yelling at Martin is perfect. *chef’s kiss* Finally this boy is being honest with his father and he isn’t holding back. 

30:40 - Michael Sheen is an incredible actor. This is an Emmy worthy scene. By Sheen AND Payne.

30:48 - I love how you can see Mr. David just chilling. Sitting outside the door and staring across the hall during this scene. It’s just....can’t he hear the screaming?!? Is he just like, “I can’t take anymore of this today. Not my circus and not my monkeys.”

30:55 - Soooooo this is Martin showing his true colours. There’s definitely a part of Martin that hates Malcolm. I honestly wonder if that part of Martin actively tries/tried to emotionally torture Malcolm now and throughout his childhood. 

31:00 - “And your mother. And you ruined HeR!!!”....does this mean Martin was trying to make Ainsley a serial killer? Maybe after the camping trip when he realized Malcolm was too “weak” to kill anyone? Is this Martin saying that Ainsley is ruined because she didn’t become a serial killer? Or that Ainsley is ruined because she killed Endicott?

31:05 - “But that’s not me.” hahaha OMG. Michael Sheen just flipped between two personalities like nobody’s business. Respect.

31:08 - Martin’s outburst hurt Malcolm. Badly. You can see it all over his face. Even now, when Malcolm is being strong and showing some backbone to Martin, Martin can wound Malcolm with a single phrase. :( 

31:41 - soooo where has Gil been for the past 10 minutes of this episode?

32:02 - Sooooo did Andre kill Jerry for Rhonda? Or did he just know about the murder and keep quiet for Rhonda? Or is his oblivious to the fact that Rhonda killed Jerry? I’m honestly confused here. 

32:20 - Holy shit. Rhonda is crazy. Andre is dead now. Right?

32:48 - Wait. Why did Andre have a gold card? Mr. David only has red. What kind of qualifications does a guard need to get a gold card vs blue, green, or red?!?!

32:55 - Claremont isn’t a punishment for Martin. Solitary is. Martin should live in solitary. He deserves to suffer for his crimes (and the ongoing torture of his son). 

33:05 - How messed up is it that Mr. David’s job is to protect a serial killer? I don’t think I’m brave enough to do something like that. I also don’t know if I could do that for moral reasons. 

33:14 - Damn. That elevator looks like it hasn’t been cleaned since it was installed. It’s sooo much nastier than the hallway outside of the elevator. 

33:50 - Sooo does this mean Martin is eventually going to try and murder someone down here?

33:54 - HE CALLED FOR BACKUP <3 <3 <3 OUR BOY IS GROWING UP AND I’M SO PROUD. <3 

35:40 - FINALLY SOME MALCOLM WHUMP. <3 THIS SEASON HAS BEEN LACKING IT. 

36:00 - This is really interesting to me. I honestly wonder if Martin has some sort of split personality disorder (personality #1: murderous, selfish, psychopath; personality #2: loving, concerned father and lawful doctor). You can see how desperately he wants to escape. But also how much he loves his son. I honestly thought he was going to leave Malcolm to die. 

36:06 - Ugh. Look at his whumped face. <3 <3 <3 ....one thing that I couldn’t stop thinking during all the tazing (which was amazing FYI, I’m not complaining) is this: in QxA (1x07) Mr. David says that he only has a single shot tazer. Why did Andre have a multi-shot tazer? Is this a gold card vs red card thing?

36:40 - WHY THE EFF DOES BACKUP NOT INCLUDE GIL?!?! I KNOW HE’S STILL IN THE BUILDING. 

37:03 - MARTIN, IF YOU TOUCH A HAIR ON DANI’S HEAD I WILL PERSONALLY HUNT YOU DOWN AND KILL YOU MYSELF. He honestly looks like he wants to murder her. 

37:50 - Martin’s speech is not going to help Malcolm’s mental state. At all. 

38:31 - No. No. No. Martin you do NOT get to talk to Dani on a first name basis. Look at how much Dani hates it. 

38:35 - I love how soft Malcolm looks as Martin lifts him up. Look at how Malcolm gently leans into the touch. It breaks my heart. After 20 years Malcolm is still comforted by physical contact with his father. :( 

38:37 - “Put your hands on me again Dr. Whitly, and I’ll blow your head off.” OH HELL YES. Dani is my hero. Iconic. Also - anyone else notice that Dani is chewing gum in this scene (I don’t think she’s chewed gum on camera since the pilot?) it makes her look like so much more of a badass in this scene. 

38:55 - Oh look. The rest of the backup finally showed up. Where were these assholes 5 minutes ago when DANI WAS ALONE? AND WHERE IS GIL?!?!

39:00 - Malcolm thanking Dani is so so precious. And the fact that he’s clearly struggling to breathe and stay conscious is giving me life. ALSO Dani saying, “YOU’re welcome.”?!? *chef’s kiss* :) :) <3

39:30 - So Malcolm definitely knows that Martin almost left him to die so that Martin could escape. 

39:33 - ......Ainsley is currently living with Jessica. Why is Ainsley not at the family dinner? We literally see her in the house in like 30 seconds. 

39:35 - Malcolm in a polo shirt. Malcolm in a polo shirt. Why is it so attractive?!? He looks like a baby cinnamon roll? <3 

39:51 - WHO THE EFF LET AINSLEY INTO THE MURDER BASEMENT?!? WHY AM I EXPECTED TO BELIEVE THAT JESSICA DIDN’T RE-SEAL IT AFTER WATKINS?!?!

40:15 - Jessica desperately tearing apart the living room is heartbreaking. :(

40:29 - Question: Did Jessica send her staff home before she tore apart the living room? Because I can just imagine two of them staring into the living room from the hall like, “She’s finally snapped. Should we call someone?”

41:00 - Jessica is the queen of drama. HOLY SHIT. This reveal was so extra and so perfect. 

41:13 - “I killed him.” “You’re lying.” I love this interaction between Jessica and Malcolm. Malcolm has spent his whole life trying to convince people that he’s not a murderer. To protect Ainsley, his baby sister, he will say the words “I killed him”. Even though that is literally killing a part of Malcolm. Jessica knows it. I love that Jessica can see that Malcolm is lying. She’s not trying to convince herself that he’s innocent. She literally just accused him of murder. She’s scared. Because Malcolm just admitted to killing someone - his biggest fear - and it was a lie. 

41:35 - Watching Bellamy Young’s facial expression as Jessica realizes that Ainsley killed Endicott is a thing of beauty. This woman needs an Emmy too. HELL, CAN WE GIVE THIS WHOLE EPISODE AN EMMY?!?! 

42:00 - Poor Jessica. The guilt she must feel. She’s always thought that Malcolm was the one at risk of being a murderer. He’s a boy (they’re statistically more prone to violence than girls), he was older than Ainsley, he remembers terrible things, Malcolm had continued exposure to Martin throughout his childhood (Ainsley didn’t - I think?). But the child she neglected, the child she thought was safe, the child she thought remained free of Martin’s evil killed someone. It’s a plot-twist that just ripped Jessica’s heart into a million pieces. 

42:30 - Yep. I promise you Malcolm has been psychoanalyzing Ainsley’s past behaviours since the moment she killed Endicott. He’s found traits common to serial killers and he’s terrified that she’ll become one if she remembers what it felt like to kill Endicott. He’s probably kicking himself for not noticing sooner. He’s probably questioning his ability as a profiler and as a big brother. AND the fact that MALCOLM has to protect Jessica AND Ainsley is heartbreaking. It’s way too big a burden. No wonder Malcolm’s mental health is on a downward spiral. 

42:33 - This is the moment Jessica begins grieving for Ainsley. The fear, disbelief, and horror on her face. It’s torture that I can only describe as someone telling a mother that her daughter is dead. Because Ainsley is dead. The person Jessica believed Ainsley was - that little girl is dead. Because Jess just found out the truth. 

42:55 - Jessica is now terrified of her own daughter. That is maybe the most upsetting thing this show has given us. 

43:00 - I saw an interesting theory about how Ainsley is regressing back to her childhood (crawling into bed with Mom, moving back in with Mom) and I must say - that would be a really interesting way for this story to go. Ainsley regressing to a child-like state as she is convicted of murder. As a result she ends up in the women’s ward of Claremont because she can plead insanity. 

This episode was amazing. Seriously, one of the best Prodigal Son episodes to date. Definitely the best of season 2 so far. If you’ve read this far - thanks for hanging out. 

[justmypartner]

Still Breathing: Chapter 1

Summary: AU | When a case goes sideways, Hailey wakes up in the hospital with a revelation that leaves her evaluating her life. While she recovers at Med, she meets Jay, an aloof, yet intriguing patient that catches her by surprise. The two get to know one another as they take on the task of rediscovering what it’s like to truly live, and eventually learn their lives intersect in more ways than one. 

Writer’s Note: Hi!!! I’ve had this idea for a while and it’s taken me quite a bit to finally get started, but I’m super excited about it. This probably won’t be a weekly fic, but I’ll try and post as frequently as possible. I don’t want to give too much away… but it explores something in the Halstead background that has been referenced, but never fully developed so I really tried to dive deep into what it is and how it would affect Jay. It’s been fun (and somewhat emotional) to work through & I really hope you enjoy!! 

Read on AO3 or below

“Order, Arms,” a voice called out, sending Hailey’s hand back down to her side.

She remained in place, frozen as she resumed attention, fighting hard to conceal the joy spilling out of her. It was her graduation day. She was just sworn in, and for the first time ever, deemed an Officer of the Chicago Police Department. She took in the room from under the low brim of her hat, her lips curling up at the corners as the Department Pipes and Drums began to play. She closed her eyes briefly, relishing in the moment, and when she opened, she was suddenly somewhere else entirely. She was no longer standing in the middle of the Grand Ballroom at Navy Pier. She still wore those same blues from before, slightly older and more worn than they once were, but her bright, green attitude she previously bore was gone. She was exhausted and nervous, sitting before her District Commander in a small and unfamiliar room in Ivory Tower.

“Hailey, I hope I don’t have to remind you that you are not to discuss the case with anyone, nothing you did, nothing you saw, not a single detail that pertains to the operation is to be exchanged until you are told otherwise by the AUSA’s office,” the Commander instructed her, carrying an even tone that made the reason for the meeting hard to discern.

“Yes ma’am,” Hailey affirmed with a simple nod.

“With that being said, I have news for you. There will be a more formal presentation of this news, but for now I get to be the first to tell you,” the Commander spoke, inhaling deeply before continuing. “Officer Hailey Upton, for your outstanding acts of heroism and performance during the aforementioned case, on behalf of the Superintendent of Police, the Bureau of Detectives, and the entirety of the Chicago Police Department, we commend your service with a merit promotion to the ranking of Detective.”

Her brows raised in surprise. After the long stretch undercover, she was just happy to finally be Hailey again, to be in her home, to be able to work with the safety and familiarity of her coworkers. She had spent those weeks hoping the case would lend her a promotion, but she never fully imagined that it would. She was equal parts ecstatic and stunned by the news, but she blinked, and she was transported once again. She was no longer sitting across from her District Commander but from Sergeant Voight in the low light of his office.

“Our only Detective just recently and unexpectedly took furlough. Burgess, Ruzek, Atwater, we’ve been trying to make do with just us, but we’re stretched thin. There’s a spot on our team and we could really use the help. It’s yours if you want it,” his gravelly voice posited.

Before she knew it, those moments that stood out so vividly in her mind became fuzzy images in what seemed like a poorly put together movie, and everything began to fade to black.

When she finally woke, it was to the sound of machines and the low babel of indistinct conversation. As her eyes blinked open, she took in the glimpse of four familiar faces and numerous wires and IVs hooked up to her body.

She hadn’t been in Intelligence long, only about two weeks before she wound up in that hospital room, but she knew from her first day that she had stumbled upon her forever people. She didn’t take the job with this expectation. In fact, she was expecting it to be as rocky as her first time working with the team. Yet, she came to learn that despite the reputation that preceded them, they were some of the most loyal and genuine people she had met in all of her time with the CPD. In only the short amount of time she had been with them, they had clung to her in a way nobody else ever had, developing what she knew to be a lifelong bond. The fact that their faces were the first she saw when she finally came to only affirmed that.

“There she is!” Kevin’s voice rang as they all rose, making their way closer to her bedside.

“Did we get them?” Her voice croaked, and they all nodded in confirmation, looking over to their sergeant to deliver the news.

Her memory of right before everything went dark was fuzzy. She wasn’t exactly sure what caused the injuries that left her aching all over, but everything else, the case, the targets, it was all still fresh in her mind. She didn’t want to talk about the case. She didn’t even want to think about it, but she needed to know if they got them. That everything that happened was worth it. She breathed out, allowing a sliver of tension that had been bottled up inside of her release with it. She watched them nod, and she waited for her boss to tell her what she needed to hear.

“We got ‘em, kid. They’re going down for everything, but most importantly for what they did to you,” he assured. She nodded, flinching at the surge of pain that came with the small movement.

“Okay, everybody. I need some time with the patient if you don’t mind,” the doctor announced as she entered the room. They all nodded, grabbing their things to leave.

“I’m happy you’re okay,” Kim told her, reaching out and briefly resting a hand over hers. Voight and Adam nodded in agreement before they all turned to walk out.

“Tough as they come, girl. Glad you’re still with us,” Kevin said, reaching out his arm and fist for her to bump. She smiled, bumping him back with her uninjured arm and thanking them all for being there.

Once they had left the room, the doctor quickly read over her chart before rolling a chair over to her.

“So, give me the rundown. How bad is it?” Hailey questioned anxiously.

“You were shot three times. Twice in the abdomen, once in the shoulder. That vest of yours caught the first two. However, they did leave some pretty significant bruising so we are going to need to monitor you closely, make sure you don’t develop any internal bleeding or rupture. The one in your shoulder was a through and through. We were able to go in and repair what it tore, but you lost a lot of blood. So, you should get comfortable. We’re going to need to keep you here for observation a few days. Looks like you’ll be out of work for the next week at the least, then out of the field for a few weeks after that,” She explained. Hailey just nodded simply in response, a look of defeat on her face.

“Detective, it could have been a lot worse had you not been wearing that vest. It also could have been a lot worse if that bullet in your shoulder struck just a half a centimeter lower. I know it doesn’t feel like it, but I’d say you’re pretty lucky,” she admitted, rising from her chair before dropping her chart at the end of the bed and making her way out of the room.

Lucky. It wasn’t the word she’d use to describe how she was feeling. On top of the pain, she was reeling from that vision she had just before her breathing stalled and everything shut off. She’d always heard people say their life flashed before their eyes in those kind of moments, but she never expected it to be such a deflating experience. Her life flashed before her eyes, but the only outstanding moments were her graduation from the academy, her promotion to detective, and her offer into Intelligence. She loved her job, and she was proud of those moments, but it felt disillusioning that in what felt like her final moments, the only good memories her brain could come up with tied back to her job. A job that too often reminded her of all of the bad in the world. A job that had landed her there in the first place.

She didn’t want to fully think about what happened. She wasn’t emotionally prepared for it. Still, she couldn’t stop thinking about the moment before she lost consciousness, when those memories flashed through her mind. It made her realize just how empty her life had been. Her injuries may not have necessarily been life threatening, but she felt as though she was getting a second chance. A second chance to get more out of life than a few job related accomplishments in her end-of-life film reel. A second chance to be intentional about making more memories.

- - - -

A few days had gone by, and she was still in the hospital. She was already feeling better, more than ready to go home, but her doctor extended her stay, wanting to monitor her and her labs. She spent a lot of time in her room, keeping her mind busy with a few books Kim had brought her, but getting distracted by whatever rerun was playing on the small tv screen in the corner of the room. She didn’t have any visitors, something that only added to the epiphany about her life that had her rattled from the moment she woke. Her Intelligence family was practically all she had. They stopped by when they could, but for the most part they were all busy at work, leaving her alone to herself and the occasional check in from various medical staff. Boredom was growing with each passing minute, and she thought about how hard it would be to survive a few weeks out of the field if she couldn’t even make it through a few days in the hospital.

Having enough of sitting in the hospital bed, she was able to convince a nurse to let her sneak out for a walk around the hospital. She felt like a mess. She was dressed head to toe in sweats, her right arm was in a sling, and the look was pulled together with a pair of socks and sandals. Not exactly the most flattering outfit, but she had reached the level of restlessness that left her unaffected by her appearance. She just needed to be out of that room.

She got another book in the gift shop and stopped by the cafeteria where she found some chocolate ice cream. She tucked the book into her sling as she walked about the halls, shoveling the snack into her mouth with each step. She finally climbed into the elevator, and pressed the button for her floor before settling into the back corner. Every bit seemed better than the last. She wasn’t sold on the hospital food. It reminded her of grade school cafeteria food, something she was never fond of, so she knew that ice cream would be the only good thing she had to eat all day. The elevator stopped at the next floor and a man stepped in, pressing a button before settling into the corner across from her. She briefly looked up at him with a friendly nod before looking back down into the cup in her hand for another bite. Suddenly, a movement across the car brought her attention back to him. He had pulled a needled syringe from his pocket and began pressing it into his forearm. Her posture straightened and she froze as she watched him repeatedly stab his arm with the needle.

“Trypanophobia… don’t worry, it’s a prop needle,” he broke through the silence, and she relaxed slightly as he continued to speak.

“You know? The ones they use in movies that don’t actually pierce the skin. My idiot brother said the best way to overcome my fear of needles is exposure therapy, starting with these fake ones. Yet, I’ve been in and out of this hospital for several weeks now, plenty exposed to these things, and I still can’t seem to get used to the poking and prodding,” the man said, flashing her a shy smile as he continued pushing the needle into his arm.

“Seems like pretty sound advice to me. Maybe your idiot brother isn’t such an idiot after all,” she responded back with amusement.

“Yeah, well he may be a doctor, but he’s also my older brother which, in my eyes, makes him an idiot by default,” he said matter-of-factly, immediately looking up at her with a curl in his lips.

“Ah, well I have 2 brothers myself, so I suppose I can somewhat appreciate that sentiment,” she smirked, looking over at him from the other side of the elevator.

She discretely eyed him as he busied his focus back on the syringe in his hand. He was tall, with broad shoulders, and a shirt that fit a little too tight, revealing toned muscles underneath with every movement. The beanie he wore fully covered his head but based on the freckles all across his face and the darkness of his eyebrows, she had to guess he was a redhead, maybe even a brunette. His face was clean shaven, which made it hard to tell just how old he was, but his eyes were what had her. They were an entrancing blend of green and blue, and they gave off a sort of friendly warmth that mellowed out his somewhat intimidating deportment.

“What landed you in here?” He asked, continuing to mindlessly press the object into his arm.

“I- injured on the job,” she put simply.

“Been there,” he said directly, his obscurity matching hers. Her brow furrowed briefly before silence filled the small space and she centered her focus back on the ice cream in her hand.

“Are you doing anything right now, you know, besides stuffing your face with diabetes?” He queried, cutting through the silence and nodding to the cup of ice cream in her hand. She scoffed sarcastically.

“Why do you ask?” She questioned dubiously, trying to keep a lightness in her voice. “Also, I’ll have you know this is the only decent thing to eat this hospital has to offer. I survived a few bullets, I’m sure a little sugar won’t kill me,” she replied. He chuckled as she scooped up a large bite and shoveled it into her mouth with pride.

“Fair enough. And I ask because I have some time to kill, so I just wanted to see if you cared to join me for a little golf on the roof,” he said.

“There isn’t golf on the roof,” she shook her head, amused by the way he proposed it so factually.

“Oh, but there is,” he returned. She squinted her eyes at him in disbelief, and he quickly pressed the elevator button for the roof. She didn’t believe him, but she was bored. Out of her mind. So, she reluctantly decided to follow him. When the elevator stopped at the rooftop, he led her out to an opening with a small patch of turf, two clubs, and a basket of golf balls.

“What the hell? You were serious?” she laughed.

“Yeah, I was serious. I never joke about golf,” He said frankly, grabbing a golf club and placing the ball on the tee.

“Is this even allowed?” She asked, placing her empty cup down as she watched him swing the club into the ball. Her eyes travelled it as it flew from the roof, and she brought her eyes back to him, a staggered look on her face.

“Probably not, but like I said, my idiot brother is a doctor, so if we get caught I’ll just blame it on him,” he smiled, flashing her a wink before hitting another ball off the tee. “Do you want to try?” He asked, offering her a club.

“Don’t think that’s even possible,” she returned, raising her slinged arm slightly to make her point.

“That’s no excuse,” he said, “Come here,” he instructed. She gave in, making her way over toward him.

Close up, his eyes were more green than blue, and they were so beautiful that she found herself getting lost in them for a second. She snapped back into focus when he offered her the club. She took it, and he helped her adjust her feet so that she was standing properly. He placed a ball on the tee, took a step back, and motioned for her to have at it.

She wound the shot up with her uninjured arm and struck the ball. She was still sore from her injuries, and the movement of the swing sent a surge of pain through her torso. She flinched, chipping the top of the ball in the follow through. They both erupted in laughter when the ball barely went but a few feet in front of them, and she dropped the club to the ground to clutch at her abdomen.

“Okay, so maybe you were right,” he laughed, his mood dropping the second he noticed she was in pain. “Hey, are you okay?” He inspected, reaching a supportive hand through the small distance between them.

“Yeah, just still a little sore,” she admitted, stepping back as she forced a smile to hide her pain. He just nodded and she stepped back to lean against the wall. He was silent, but she could sense he was thinking hard about something.

“So injured on the job, huh?” He finally asked. “You mentioned something about surviving a bullet, so what exactly is your job? Bank Robber? Spy? Assassin?” He bantered. She pursed her lips into a wry smile, shaking her head with a weak laugh.

“Mm. You pay attention. I’m a Cop. Detective more specifically. It was uh…” she hadn’t fully addressed how everything had went down yet. The case wasn’t one she wanted to particularly think about, and as the memories from moments before the shooting slowly came back, she immediately pushed them down. She still wasn’t prepared to talk about it. Especially not to some stranger she met in an elevator only 15 minutes before.

“Things took a turn quickly. I took two to the vest, one in the shoulder,” she finally got out, remaining vague through her wording.

His movements stilled, and he looked over at her, a concerned yet knowing look on his face.

“Through and through?” He asked her. She nodded bleakly.

“I’ve had a similar injury,” she noticed his jaw clench with his words. “I was a cop too,” he eventually admitted, a sullen look falling upon his face.

“Was?” She questioned.

“I mean, I guess I technically still am, but it doesn’t feel like it,” he adumbrated. She noticed he was being cryptic, but despite her own curiosity she could tell it wasn’t something he was prepared to talk about. It got quiet as she weighed whether or not to question him further. She settled against it, and in desperate need to change the subject, her attention fell back upon the golf setup. She nodded her head towards it to redirect the conversation.

“So why do you have this here?” She asked him. She watched as he sucked his teeth, pulling his tongue back with a pop before answering.

“I was diagnosed with Stage 2 Pancreatic Cancer several weeks ago. Started chemotherapy not long after that, and as I mentioned before, needles are not my favorite thing, so I come up here before each treatment… calm my nerves a bit,” he admitted. Her face fell. She put two and two together, figuring that was his reason behind not feeling like a cop anymore. She quickly realized her problems, her boredom, everything she’d complained about in the past few days really didn’t mean anything in the grand scheme of things. It also in a way reminded her of that second chance she seemed to have gotten. She was suddenly both inspired and confused about where she stood in the way she viewed her life.

“I’m sorry,” she said, almost in a whisper.

“Oh, none of that. No room for sorry or sadness up here. Only golf,” he quipped, forcing a smile and turning his attention back to the golf ball on the ground before whacking it from the roof.

Before she could respond, her phone buzzed in her pocket, bringing her attention away from him.

Where are you? Kev and I brought you some food, but your room is empty.

It was a text from Kim. After reading it, she looked up at the man. She had a strange desire to stay up there with him, to watch him hit golf balls from the roof and get to know more about him, but she knew her friends would send the entire hospital after her if she didn’t show a sign of life.

“I’m sorry, but I’ve got to go,” she said, slipping her phone back in her pocket and pushing herself from the wall.

“Hey, what’d I say about sorry?” He smirked, resting the club on the ground and leaning against it as he stepped towards her.

“How much longer are you stuck here?” he asked, tilting his head with his words.

“Honestly, I’m not really sure. Doctors haven’t been able to give me a clear answer.”

“Well, maybe I’ll see you around. It was nice to meet you um…” he let out an awkward chuckle. “I don’t know your name,” he said sheepishly.

“Hailey. I’m Hailey,” she smirked, extending her uninjured hand for him to shake. He grabbed it, shaking it back lightly and slowly. As he peered into her eyes, an abnormal feeling overcame her. It was almost a sense of familiarity, like he wasn’t a stranger she had just met, but someone she’d known her whole life. It was the look in his eyes and the comfort of his touch, and it was a feeling that took her by surprise. Nonetheless, the feeling was gone as quickly as it came, and they pulled apart as he parted his lips to speak.

“Nice to meet you, Hailey,” he said, his free hand finding way to his pocket. Her phone buzzed again, another text from Kim, and she knew she had to get back to her room before they sent the entirety of Chicago searching for her. She gave him one last smile before turning towards the elevators. As she settled in and pressed the button for her floor, she looked up to see him watching her every movement. She quickly looked down at her feet with this realization, remembering how she was dressed and suddenly regretting leaving her room like that. She was grateful when he finally turned, directing his attention back to the golf balls on the ground.

“Wait,” she said, throwing her free hand up to the elevator doors as they began to close. He twisted around, his eyes carrying a gentle, curious look.

“You didn’t tell me your name,” she called out.

He opened his mouth to speak, but he stopped himself, his eyes looking up and dropping quickly as if he’d forgotten his name and was waiting for it to fall from the sky.

“Just remember me as the stranger from the elevator,” he finally said slyly.

She frowned, but he just returned her look with taut smirk. When it was clear that was all he was going to offer, she backed up into the elevator, an annoyed and skeptical smile on her face as she allowed the doors to fall shut.

She acted on autopilot for the rest of the afternoon, distracted by the encounter with the stranger. She wasn’t an at first sight kind of person. Love, admiration, attraction, feelings, they weren’t things she typically felt from the jump. It took time and trust for her to develop those things that some could develop in a first encounter. Yet, with this guy, something was different. From the ride down to the elevator, to dinner in her room with her friends, to the moment her head touched the uncomfortable hospital pillow that night, the stranger and some unexplainable feeling about him lingered in her mind like a bad hangover. He was aloof and smug, but something about that combination left her wanting more. More about his story, about his quirks, about everything that made him seem so interesting.

It took her a while to find sleep, as it had every night prior that she had spent in that hospital, but that night it was for another reason. It wasn’t just the discomfort of the bed or the unfamiliarity of the room that left her restless. It was the image of the stranger’s well-pleased grin in her mind, his blue-green eyes sparkling at her, and her own curiosity keeping her up late into the night. Every part of her hoped that she would see him again. She couldn’t quite explain it, but the timing of it all made her think she was meant to meet him for some undiscovered reason. That gave her just enough hope that their encounter wasn’t just a one time thing. She had a strong feeling she was going to see him again.

[prfctparis]

In a Sweet Sunshower

AO3 Link

summary: He Who Brings Rain and The One Who Shines Bright are siblings. It’s fitting that there’s a sunshower during one of the campaigns when their legions team up.

a/n: a few things about Tatooine Slave Culture in this is borrowed from fialleril here on tumblr, so all rights go to them for that. except for the sunshower thing, i came up with it while driving and wrote this as fast as i could and actually kind of proud of the concept ngl. fun fact! zariza’s name mean ‘gold, brilliantly bright’ in hebrew so obviously it means something similar here in this star wars universe.

There’s an old phenomenon, here on Tatooine – from thousands and thousands of years ago back when this place wasn’t all dirt and sand – where the suns shone high in the sky, and voluminous clouds did little to darken the earth below, and rain fell from them, soaking the life on the ground.

It never lasted long, a few or so minutes at most, but it always happened during the hottest season of the year. It was said to be a beautiful sight to behold. The down pouring rain and the bright shining suns, together. Apparently it looked like liquid gold.

Everyone called it a sunshower. All of the Depur took it as a sign for there to be tricksters coming their way. Some of the Amavikka said that it was a sign of hope from one of the ancient prophets – Ekkreth, or Maru, or Tena, or Ebra – or even Ar-Amu to the slaves.

But most said that during it was when slaves became Free for good.

…We haven’t had rain in ages.

Zariza huffs and grimaces. Every single part of her is sweaty and sticky, and the humidity of this planet’s region might actually end up being the death of her. No, not the droids they fought earlier, or the damn Separatists, or even a stray blaster bolt. But the humidity. She knows that hate isn’t a good thing for a Jedi to feel, but she hates it, through and through. The air feels suffocating – the exact opposite of what it should be – and makes the heat of the sun feel hotter than it actually is. 

It’s horrible. She says as much to her Jedi Master.

“Yes, humidity does make what we’re doing harder. Unnecessarily so,” Mace agrees, sounding less annoyed and tired than his padawan but Zariza can hear the edge of the emotions in his voice. He isn’t fairing so well in this weather, either.

At least the battle is over. Now they just have to clean up everything.

The leaders of the planet had asked for clean up help once the fighting had ended and they had verbally agreed to officially join the Republic. Of course the 187th and 501st easily promised they would do so. Neither of the legions have somewhere important to be, except for maybe Coruscant or a High Council meeting, and so here they are. Sweating their asses off in the humid heat that somehow feels like a murder attempt.

“Take a break if you need it, Zariza – I don’t want you overworking yourself in this heat. It could be dangerous,” Mace says after a few more moments. Then to Commander Ponds, “Same goes for all of the one-eighty-seventh, Commander. Take as many breaks as you need.”

Zariza sees Ponds nod out of the corner of her eyes, followed by, “Yes sir, General. Lieutenant Spite and a medic squad are collecting bottles of water and setting up tents for shade. I’ve heard that the five-oh-first are doing the same as they work as well.”

“Good.”

Wiping her brow with the bare skin of her bicep, Zariza is glad that she had the foresight to leave her black cloak and outer tunic on the venator-ship. She now only wears the black boots, leggings, and the sleeveless white under tunic, which is now stained with dirt and a few specks of blood but she could hardly care. The troopers did earlier, though, especially at the beginning of the fight – lack of armor meant danger but Zariza wasn’t about to give herself a heatstroke. She at least still wore the braces for her forearms, and the chest plate that she has since taken off.

One of the troopers – Mayhem, she recognizes the armor – hands her a container of water hardly ten minutes later. She smiles gratefully at him and takes it, taking a few sips, and then hands it back. He caps the container, clips it on his belt, and they both get back to work cleaning broken droid parts and other various debris from the fight. Mayhem never strays too far from her. Zariza might have been annoyed by it if she didn’t know that he’s looking out for her.

On the other side of the large area that had been used a battle field against Seppie droids, are the 501st – her brother included. Like her, he has darker robes than the usual Jedi, and had also foregone the outer tunics because of the planet’s heat before battle started. Zariza won’t be surprised if he’s currently completely shirtless by now – a risk for a sunburn, no doubt, with skin much paler than her own, but that’s his problem. She also knows for a fact that Ahsoka is wearing the tube top outfit she wore constantly before Anakin corralled her into wearing something more covering, a few pieces of armor included, just a month ago.

Hell, even Master Mace Windu is shirtless right now, the weirdness of it be damned. Some troopers have started to disappear regularly, leaving in full gear, only to pop up again with the top half of their blacks and armor gone.

Yeah. Humidity karking sucks.

Needing a break, Zariza leans against a lone tree nearby. She can feel the Living Force flowing through it and focuses on that as she catches her breath. Mayhem spots her and brings her more water without question.

“Thanks,” she sighs, and takes another sip.

Mayhem nods, undoing a second bottle from his belt, right next to where his helmet it clipped. He’s shirtless just like many of his brothers, curly hair frizzy as hell. “You’re welcome, sir,” he says. Once he’s had a few sips of his own, he asks, “How much is left in there?”

She shakes it, and shrugs. “Half, maybe?”

He nods again. “I’ll go back to one of the tents and refill it for you soon.”

She smiles thankfully. “Don’t forget to get yourself some.”

Mayhem chuckles. “Of course not, sir.”

After taking another drink, she hands it back just like before. But she doesn’t move to get back to work just yet. Master Mace nudges her in their bond, asking if she’s okay, and she tiredly pokes back to confirm that she is, all the while eying what’s left of the field to clean up. They’re getting there, but it looks like it will take forever. At least Anakin, Ahsoka, and the 501st are tackling the other half; and they’re getting closer, slowly but surely.

Her eyes flit up to the sky, and she spots grey clouds nearby. But, ugh – they aren’t close enough for them to get rained on.

It causes a frown to tug on her lips. A pout, if she wants to be honest about it.

Mayhem chuckles for a second time, more amused than before. “Finally saw the clouds, huh, verd’ika?”

Another trooper nearby stops and looks as well. A wounded noise escape them. “It’s so close but so damn far,” they say, forlorn. What a Force-damned mood.

“This humidity will be the death of me,” Zariza mumbles.

“That’s not happening on our watch,” they say, firm yet exhausted, the sadness about the clouds suddenly gone.

“Damn straight,” Mayhem agrees.

She can only groan.

Once Zariza has rested for a good few minutes, she stands up straight again, but instead of getting to work, she unties the knot of the yellow bandana at the nape of her neck. The wild, dark waves of her hair are no doubt frizzy and wilder than ever; earlier she was positive that she felt the waves grow in size because of the friz and the humidity, and she honestly doesn’t want to know what she looks like because of it. Quickly, she works on putting her long hair into a nerftail and ties it with the bandana.

What feels like ages later, the planet’s sun is beginning to finally lower in the sky and the 187th has done most of their half of the battle field. Through the bond, Zariza can tell Anakin is close by yet she stays lying on the ground, taking yet another much needed break. The clouds are closer, too. Yet still no rain.

The sound of boots crunching the dry, summer grass as someone walks gets closer and louder, up until the person stops right at Zariza’s head, casting a shadow over her. She blinks and tilts her chin to get a better look at who it is despite already having a pretty good guess. Anakin stands over her, sweaty and shirtless, with red tinting his shoulders, chest, and nose. His dirty blond hair is matted with sweat and it sticks to his forehead and the nape of his neck, a few of the short curls frizzed up, and his face is contorted into a scowl.

“I cannot believe I’m saying this,” he says, “but I miss Tatooine’s dry heat.”

“Agreed,” she grunts.

Anakin huffs and steps to her side. He then sticks out his flesh hand, and Zariza forces herself to sit up so she can grab it. He pulls her to her feet and almost immediately lets go once he’s sure she’s balanced well. The humid heat has made the brother-sister who hug every time they see each other, want to not be touching another body in any way for the foreseeable future.

Anakin runs a hand through his hair, grimaces at the sweat, and wipes it on his pants. Disgusting. “Been drinking enough water?” he asks.

She sighs. “Yep. You?”

“Yep.”

“Ahsoka?”

“Yep.” A beat. “Master Windu?”

She almost says ‘yep’ again, but decides not to. “Yeah, him too. Don’t worry.” She smirks. It’s no secret that before Master Mace took her as his padawan, that Anakin couldn’t stand the man. The feeling might have been mutual, but honestly Zariza doesn’t know and doesn’t care to. For now.

Anakin just rolls his eyes and flips her off, walking off to help Captain Rex and a few more guys of Torrent Company.

Ahsoka comes up to her a second later. The younger teen doesn’t say anything, and neither does Zariza. Usually energetic and happy to get her to know her Master’s little sister better, the heat has zapped the togruta of most of her energy. So in silence, they work together on a particularly large piece of debris, and then immediately head to the nearest tent for some much needed shade. Breaks are becoming more frequent, and Zariza thinks that maybe she will have to stop helping if they don’t finish up cleaning soon.

Anakin is already in the tent, along with Master Mace, Captain Rex, and Commander Ponds by the time the girls get there, and the two padawans wave a short greeting to the men before beelining where other troopers are giving out fresh water.

It’s when one of the Boys In Blue (as the GAR has started calling the 501st) hands them both a fresh container when it happens.

The sound of rain pelting the top of the tent makes everyone freeze. It’s obviously still sunny, but that doesn’t stop Zariza or any of the others to turn to check for themselves. And it is – no clouds directly above them at all – yet the rain is falling down, gradually increasing to a steady downpour. She blinks a few times and inches closer to the edge of the tent, and hardly a second later Anakin is at her side, looking out as well, mouth parted in shock.

“A sunshower,” Anakin whispers.

Zariza numbly nods.

Her mind conjures up a faint memory of being told of a phenomenon from hundreds of thousands of years ago on Tatooine. Of sunshine and rain, together. Of liquid gold. Of tricksters visiting Depur. Of a sign of hope to slaves, or a celebration for the Freed.

It doesn’t look completely like liquid gold like Amu’s tales said, but it was close to it. It’s still beautiful. A stunning phenomenon that neither Anakin nor Zariza believed they would ever get to see. 

“They don’t last long,” she finds herself saying.

The Skywalkers turn their heads in unison to look at one another. Matching grins of excitement and mischief form, and without any prompting Zariza is taking off into the rain almost as fast as a blaster bolt, Anakin hot on her heels.

Zariza jumps into an already formed puddle. It’s right next to one of the 501st troopers, Jesse, and it splashes him. Zariza may or may not have used to Froce to make the splash bigger, but that doesn’t exactly matter. Just that there’s a sunshower, that her and her brother are both Free, and there’s a fucking sunshower and it’s amazing! 

Jesse lunges at her, wanting to retaliate for getting splashed at, but she slips away easily with loud laughter.

From him, anyway – Anakin catches her a second later with water from a puddle cupped in his hands. He promptly dumps it over her head with laughter of his own, then misses up her hair just for the heck of it.

“Wha– ugh, Anakin!”

“Tag, you’re it!” he shouts, as if they’re eight and twelve again in the Room of a Thousand Fountains instead of sixteen and twenty in the middle of a field post-battle.

Zariza gapes at him, but it quickly turns into grins and she chases after him without a second thought.

It doesn’t take long for Ahsoka to join, or even for the troopers. Within seconds, there’s a large game of tag, troopers splashing in puddles, and almost everyone running in the rain with the sun shining down on them, laughter ringing out into the open and so much Light seeping into the Force that Mace can’t help but shove his Commander into the rain as well.

…Yes, we haven’t had rain in thousands upon thousands of years.

But it is said that one day, when the twin suns shine hotly over Tatooine, that clouds will form once again yet they will not obscure the twins from sight, and a downpour of rain will wash over everyone.

All the slaves will be Free, and Depur will no longer have power over us.

We will have a sunshower once more.