#and i am still sick as hell. so cannot like...go to the pharmacy for one.

[rose-coloured-boy]

you would think they WANT this fucking virus to run rampant given how hard it is to get test kits these days. fucking hell.

[ceruleanskies]

I'm not hatin on you or anything, im all for it but why do you keep hating on white people? You are being quite offensive ngl

deep breaths, kai. deep breaths. i’m prepared to lose more followers for this. so let’s discuss this ask, shall we?

i could go on and on and on about the different microaggressions or racist stereotyping I have experienced as an Indian (common culprits are ‘where are you REALLY from?’, ‘you’re so pretty for an indian girl’ or, in terms of stereotypes, the ‘indians all run pharmacies and smell bad’ and ‘all indians have poor english’ [i speak gujarati at home fluently and am learning both spanish, hindi, mandarin and korean, excuse me if my english is not perfect] which probably require another post altogeher) but I’ll keep this focused on what you were probably referencing; my post about white mh activists not uplifting POCs. 

there is a distinct difference between being offensive to white people (not racist, offensive. you cannot be racist to white people as white people have never historically been marginalised, nor has your race ever limited any opportunities for you. the dictionary defines racism as: prejudice, discrimination, or antagonism by an individual, community, or institution against a person or people on the basis of their membership of a particular racial or ethnic group, typically one that is a minority or marginalised.) and pointing out the faults in a system built specifically for white people, by white people; a system that still refuses to give POCs the same privileges as white people. were you offended by me saying that white mental health activists should uplift and give platforms to POCs who suffer from mental illnesses instead of talking over them? 

Generations of systemic and institutionalised oppression and racism by a system built for white people by white people to benefit white people warrants some kind of frustration, doesn’t it? if you’re offended by someone pointing out the flaws of almost each and every system in society, (I’m quoting Hank Green here), ‘that’s probably because it’s messing with a power structure that benefits YOU’.

this got long, so read under the cut. 

time and time again POCs are systemically oppressed in every walk of life. be it in the justice system, the medical sector, hell, even in the job market... speaking of the job market, i bet you didn’t know that the University of Oxford conducted a study that sent out around 3,000 false job applications for all kids of jobs; their study found that if you’re BAME (black, asian or minority ethnic) you have to send out 60% more job applications than your white counterparts. if you would like to read the study, you can find it linked above. 

as @fruityutas​ said, black women are twice as likely to die in childbirth than their white counterparts in the US (in the uk, it’s a fivefold higher mortality). seeing as it’s current, let’s discuss covid-19, shall we? if you’re a POC in britain, you’re more likely to die from covid-19 than a white person. 

think i’m making this up? have a look at what Public Health England have to say about it.

“An analysis of survival among confirmed COVID-19 cases shows that, after accounting for the effect of sex, age, deprivation and region, people of Bangladeshi ethnicity had around twice the risk of death when compared to people of White British ethnicity. People of Chinese, Indian, Pakistani, Other Asian, Black Caribbean and Other Black ethnicity had between 10 and 50% higher risk of death when compared to White British...”

“...The relationship between ethnicity and health is complex and likely to be the result of a combination of factors. Firstly, people of BAME communities are likely to be at increased risk of acquiring the infection. This is because BAME people are more likely to live in urban areas, in overcrowded households, in deprived areas, and have jobs that expose them to higher risk. People of BAME groups are also more likely than people of White British ethnicity to be born abroad, which means they may face additional barriers in accessing services that are created by, for example, cultural and language differences.” (2020) Assets.publishing.service.gov.uk. Available at: https://assets.publishing.service.gov.uk/government/uploads/system/uploads/attachment_data/file/908434/Disparities_in_the_risk_and_outcomes_of_COVID_August_2020_update.pdf (Accessed: 18 January 2021).

or, alternatively, if you’re sick of hearing about covid, how about the fact that the NHS is slow to respond to health problems that disproportionately affect certain ethnic minority groups? POC patients that require treatment for hepatitis B, myocardial infarction (heart attacks), hypertension and diabetes have to wait longer despite having similar symptoms to white patients. 

sick of the science? how about we talk about the fact that doctors from BAME backgrounds are less likely to be promoted to consultant posts in the NHS than white doctors? BAME doctors are also more likely to experience bullying and harassment as well as face more complaints and disciplinary actions. 

Now, let’s discuss what i’m guessing prompted this accusatory ask; the disparities in incidence of mental illness in BAME communities versus white communities. Compared to white people, black women are more likely to experience anxiety disorders or depression, south Asian women are at a higher risk of suicide and black individuals are more likely to be sectioned under the mental health act in the United Kingdom.

From ‘rethink mental illness’:

“…People from BAME backgrounds told us that some of the barriers they face when accessing mental health care are:

cultural barriers where mental health issues aren’t recognised or aren’t seen as important,

language barriers

professionals having a lack of knowledge about things that are important to a person of colour or their experiences,

white professionals not being able to fully understand what racism or discrimination is like,

lack of publicity of mental health support and services in some communities,

stereotyping. For example, some white people think that black people with mental health issues will get angry or aggressive, conscious and unconscious bias, and

stigma about mental illness in some communities stops some people of colour seeking help. They can feel ashamed.”

White people will never be able to understand what it is like to be a POC, just like how a cishet person will never know what it’s like to be LGBTQ+ . Comparing the experiences of a white person with that of a POC is like comparing apples and oranges (I group POCs together for the sake of argument; of course I, as an Indian experience privileges that a black person does not experience). 

In spite of the greater incidence of mental illnesses in BAME communities, white people have an easier time accessing mental health care than us POCs. coming back to the argument that white people will never be able to understand racism and cultural issues that can lead to mental illness, which, as i’ve said before, is looked down upon in POC communities coupled with the notable lack of BAME therapists and psychiatrists means POCs who have the luxury of accessing therapy will more often than not have to discuss their issues with someone who will never be able to relate to them. 

but i was offensive to white people because i said white mental health activists  talk over the already-suppressed voices of POC activists. okay.

[seamsterspell]

Of War and Theatrical Play

Summary:

In the height of European Theatre of World War II, Hange Zoë is stationed as a nurse in a field hospital. She sees first-hand the horror of the war and how it affects the soldiers. However, amidst of the chaos of the war, she gets the chance to meet a particular soldier, Levi Ackerman.

[LH World War II AU]

Chapter: 1 / 2

Rating: Mature

Link: AO3 / FFNET

A/N: Inspired by SNK S4 OST: Memory Lane! This is nothing but angst, baby (with a dash of fluff and romance, of course)

IMPORTANT: This is a story about the horror of a war, so expect some mild gore and tragedy. So please, be mindful of what might happen to this story! Thank you ❤

DISCLAIMER: Shingeki no Kyojin / Attack on Titan belongs to Hajime Isayama.

Chapter I: A Nurse and A Soldier

It has been five years since the start of the war in 1939. A year longer than the previous war who lasted for four years, from 1914-1918. Because of that, people begin to wonder whether the war will end at all, especially with so many people lost their life during the process to obtain this peace. The war itself is split into two main theatres, The European Theatre and The Pacific Theatre.

Theatre is oddly a fitting name for the war, where a bunch of actors are playing their part in the battlefield while the directors are staying behind the stage as the puppet master. The war is a play and the whole world is the audience, no one knows the ending or knows who wrote the script, not even God or the universe knows it. However, despite that, the show must go on.

After the struggles that the allies experienced throughout the earlier years of the war, by 1944 they are finally able to confine the Germany by pushing them from the east and the west. However, it comes with a price. The high mortality of the soldiers forced the medical practitioners to be near the frontlines of the war, serving in tents they called field hospital as healer and helper for the fallen body, mind, and soul of the soldiers.

A bespectacled nurse with knee length light blue dress is wearing her white apron—with a big red cross sign on the chest area—in a hurry. After that, she put her hair up in a bun and pinned a white cap on the top of her head, securing it with pins.

She glances at her reflection at the small mirror that she puts on top of a suitcase. She readjusts her glasses before finally leaving her small tent. Her steps fast and wide as she walks through the maze of dark green tents toward the biggest tent in the area, the hospital ward. A big red cross symbol can be seen right on the roof. She sees the influx of soldiers being carried in stretchers around the tent; some are still conscious, but some appears to be dying.

From what she knows, the troops are currently in the middle of the fight in the South of Ardennes, which started back in September. It is a battle where the American forces are trying to push the Germans out of Lorraine. However, due to the high numbers of fallen and injured soldiers, the American forces decide to retreat from the battle in October. They intend to let the soldiers rest and heal while the leaders revise the plan of the battle. They built a temporary station near the field hospital, located near the western front of the European war.

She immediately goes inside the tent, and she is welcomed by the stench of blood and sweat. She takes a deep breath as she walks toward the head nurse who is seen talking with a soldier who is crying.

“Hange Zoë is reporting for duty, Ma’am.” She greets the head nurse.

After a few exchanges between them, she is dismissed to do her duty. Hange looks around the tent to search for patient that she can treat. She spots two soldiers who have just arrived at the tent. The taller man with ash blond hair is leaning toward the shorter man with disheveled black hair.

“What’s the matter?” Hange approaches them as she inspects their bodies. The raven-haired soldier seems to be alright while the ash blond soldier is wincing in pain. She immediately leads them toward the empty bed, and she helps the blond-haired soldier to lay on the bed.

“He said that his whole body is in pain, and he also has a fever.” The other soldier tells her with a flat voice. However, she does catch a hint of worry on his expression. “He’s been like this since we retreated from the battlefield a few days ago.”

Hange hums as her brain begins to work, trying to understand his symptoms. “What’s his name?”

“Furlan Church.” The other soldier replies.

Hange looks over to Furlan Church and sees that he is sweating. “It’s okay, Mr. Church. I’m going to help you.” She tells him in a soft and clear voice.

The man nods and Hange takes it as a good sign, as he is still responding to the surrounding. Hange then grabs a slender case from a pocket in her apron, she opens it and gives a small glass stick to him. “Mr. Church I need you to put this thermometer under your tongue for a few minutes.”

Hange then unbuttons his tattered and dirty brown uniform and examines his torso. She finds a bunch of red rashes on the skin of his torso and arms. Hange bites her bottom lip, she has an inkling about his sickness. She returns to him and takes the thermometer from his mouth, the number in the thermometer indicates that he has a high fever.

Hange immediately grabs his hand and bends the joint gently, “Is it hurt?”

Mr. Church grunts in pain and nods at her. “I can’t move my joints without experiencing pain.”

“How about your chest? Do you experience chest pain?”

“A little bit.”

Hange nods before looking around her and notices that other nurses are busy treating other patients, so there is no one that she can ask for help. She glances at the other soldier and asks, “I’m sorry, but can you stay with him? I have to fetch something from the pharmacy.”

The soldier obliges and goes to his comrade’s side. Meanwhile, Hange walks toward the other tent, the smaller one, to asks for penicillin and morphine. After getting what she needs, she returns to Mr. Church. She notices that the raven-haired soldier is giving Mr. Church a glass of water.

“What is it?” The other soldier asks on behalf of his comrade, his gaze stares intensely at her. “What happens to him?”

Hange takes the liquid morphine into the needle, preparing to give Mr. Church a shot. “Rheumatic fever, I’m afraid. It’s quite common for soldier to get it. If we didn’t treat him soon, it can develop into more serious illness.”

The soldier pauses and looks at the weak body of his comrade. “Is he going to be okay?”

Hange cleans the area of his forearm and injects the solution through his vein. “I’m trying my best.” She says before putting away the needle.

Mr. Church seems to be calmer after the shot. Hange smiles and gives him the tablet that she takes from her other pocket. He swallows it with water in one big gulp.

“How are you feeling?” She asks him again.

“A lot better.” Mr. Church replies weakly, almost like a whisper. “Thank you.”

She let out a relieved sigh, “You’re welcome. As long as you are resting and drink your medicine, you should be fine. If you need anything, just call me.”

Mr. Church hums while the other soldier nods at her. Hange is about to leave them, but she notices something from the corner of her eyes. She approaches the other soldier and grabs his right hand.

“What—”

“You are wounded.” Hange exclaims when she sees a bandage wrapped around his palm.

He takes his hand away from her, voice latches with danger. “This is nothing.”

“Nothing for you, but not for me. Even a small wound can be dangerous if it wasn’t treated properly.” She puts her hands on the side of her waist. “I’m a nurse, you have to listen to me.”

He raises his brows at her. He looks curious as well a little bit surprised at her, and it oddly makes him appear more amiable than before. Hange cannot help but to loosen herself around him. She gently takes his hand again; her brown eyes stare deeply into his grey eyes. “Please, let me treat it.”

His eyes widen and he quickly glances away from her. “Fine,” he muttered.

Hange leads him to an empty bed next to Mr. Church—who already fall deep into his slumber. Hange gestures him to sit on the bed while she grabs a bandage and a bottle of antiseptic from her apron. She sits next to him and begins to unwrap his red and dirty bandage. She sees a gash on his palm, it is not alarming, but it still can lead into an infection.

As she cleans the cut, the soldier remains unmoved on his seat. He does not wince or hiss in pain. She takes the time to study him. He has youthful face that seem to be stuck in perpetual frown. His eyes are void with prominent dark bags underneath. Well, it is a well-known fact that most soldiers are sleep deprived. Hange also shares her fair share of sleepless night as her head is filled with worries and irrational fears.

Despite that, he is still a handsome man. He has a very strong jaw, and she imagines how well-built he is from all the training he endured. She wonders—

Hange scoffs as she brushes away her thought. She must remember that they are currently in war, where a lot of life is on the stakes. The life of the soldiers, of the volunteers, and of the innocent civilians.

“What the hell are you doing.”

Hange looks at him and tilts her head, “What am I doing?”

“You are grinning like an idiot.” He tells her. Even though his words are a little bit crude, she cannot detect any mockery in his tone.

Hange laughs as she realizes that she has just make a fool of herself. She shakes her head as she feels a subtle flush on her cheeks, “Nothing.”

He raises one of his eyebrows, “You are weird.”

She shrugs as she grabs the clean bandage, “I get that a lot, trust me.” Hange carefully wraps his palm. He does not give her any respond, but Hange knows that he is watching her.

After making sure that there are no other wounds on him, she puts the rest of the bandage and bottle to her apron while she collects the dirty bandage. “You should try to take care of yourself more.” She mutters without even looking at him.

“We are in a war. There are a lot of more important things to consider, there are a lot of comrades to protect.”

Hange turns to look at him, “Well, but you couldn’t save someone when you’re dead, right?”

He stares at her, folding his hands on his chest. “Maybe I can.”

“I agree to disagree.” She mutters as she checks on Mr. Church for the last time before looking back at him. “Please look after him. If you need anything, just call me or any of the nurses here.”

She walks away from their bed, there are other soldiers that she needs to take care of. However, that does not change the fact that she can not stop glancing into their direction, especially to the nameless soldier.

•──────✦──────•

It has been almost two weeks since the first time Hange met Mr. Church and the nameless soldier. She sees the nameless soldier a few times when he is visiting Mr. Church, who is slowly but surely recovering from his illness. Unfortunately, no matter how much she wants to try to have a conversation with him, she knows how important her duty is. Thus, every time they meet; he usually nods at her while she can only responds with a small smile.

When she first volunteered to the American Red Cross as a nurse, she knows that it will not be an easy job. Treating a wounded soldier is different than treating a patient in a hospital. There is a hidden more complex nature of their mental who is also injured alongside their physical body. Thus, she found herself not only treating external wound, but also their mind.

There is a young man, a soldier, who got shot in the arm. Hange remembers him due to the snake tattoo that he has on his forearm. One day, when Hange is trying to change his bandage, the young man suddenly become furious. He refuses to be touched by her, he even shouts at her and throws the bandage to her.

Other nurses are trying to calm him, but it comes to no avail. As if the young man is possessed, his eyes empty but burning. Hange comes forward, trying to soothe him, but he immediately raises his hand toward her. Hange is about to react, but the movement of his hand is already come into a halt by another hand.

“Is that how you show your gratitude toward the people who treats you?” Hange notices that the nameless soldier is holding the arm of the young man. There is a fury in his expression as he mutters to the young man, “Don’t do something that you will regret later.”

The young man stares at him before glancing toward the nurses who are surrounding his bed. He begins to sniffle as he brings his hands to his face. “I’m sorry...” He whispers before his voice slowly turns into a cry.

Hange glances toward the nameless soldier and smiles, “Thank you.”

He nods at her before leaving to return to Mr. Church who witnesses the whole event from his bed.

Later, Hange and another nurse, Nanaba, gently approach the young man. They learn that his name is Daniel. It turns out, he is the only son of a single mother who lives in Florida.

“I don’t want to come home.” He tells them as he let Hange to change his bandage. “I don’t know what to say when I meet her.”

“Is there a reason why?” Nanaba asks, sitting on a stool next to the bed.

“She didn’t want me to fight in the war while I see this as my duty. She’s always like that, telling me to do this, to do that. Can’t she just see that I want to choose my own path? I got mad at her, so we ended up fighting the day before I was deployed. I haven’t talk to her ever since… She must hate me.”

“I don’t think so.” Hange remarks. “The fact that she forbids you to go to the war really indicate how much she loves you. She doesn’t want to lose you, Daniel.”

“You think so?” There is a hopeful tone on his voice.

“Of course, there’s nothing that she wants other than to welcome you back.” Hange says as she wraps the new bandage on his arm. “I think you two misunderstood each other’s intention.”

“Really?”

Nanaba nods in agreement, “Yes. That’s why you have to stay healthy, Daniel. So, you can meet her again. Hopefully, you two can have heart to heart conversation.”

He smiles, “Right. I will do that.”

“In the meantime, why don’t you tell us about your mother? She seems to be an interesting lady.” Hange adds as she finishes bandaging his hand.

The young man’s face lightens up from the mention. He then spends the rest of the night talking to Hange and Nanaba about his mother.

•──────✦──────•

The American troops returns to the battle in the South of Ardennes after three weeks of retreating from the battle. Mr. Furlan is still too weak to join the battle, so he does not participate on the battle. During the time, Hange speaks to him a few of times. Through him, she learns that the name of the mysterious soldier. Levi Ackerman is his name.

“Please don’t take this the wrong way, Miss Nurse.” Mr. Furlan tells her when she comes to give his medicine. “But I just want to say that you are really pretty.”

Hange raises one of her brows and glances at him in confusion. She then let out a giggle. It is not uncommon for the nurses to receive compliment or even proposal during their service. Which is actually a sad thing, showing how lonely the soldiers are during the war.

“What do you want, Mr. Furlan?” Hange teases as she prepares to inject the needles.

“Nothing. I was just stating my observation.”

“Well, thank you, Mr. Furlan. From my observation, you are a handsome man yourself.”

He hisses in pain as Hange gives him a compliment as well as the needle injection. “Uh, I never thought you would return it back.”

“That’s just how I was raised.” Hange smiles before giving him a tablet and a glass of water.

He laughs before swallowing his medicine. “Hey, do you have a boyfriend, Miss?”

Hange grins and folds her hands, “You are quite a talker, Mr. Furlan.”

He puts the glass away and raises both of his hands in surrender. “I’m asking for a friend, not for me.”

She narrows her eyes and mutter in playful tone, “A friend?”

“Yeah, for a friend. I think he is interested in you. But he’s a shy, quite hopeless to be honest. That’s why, as his best friend, I want to help him.”

She pauses before letting out a chuckle, “If that is true, then tell your friend to ask me directly, Mr. Furlan.” Hange answers as she walks away from him. In her head, she tries to think about which friend he is talking about. A figure appears on her head, but she quickly dismisses it. In the end, she concludes that Mr. Furlan was only teasing her out of boredom.

•──────✦──────•

After two months of battle, the American forces are finally able to push Germany from the South of Ardennes. The battle finishes just a week before Christmas. However, the Germany immediately plans for a counteroffensive in the dense forest of the Ardennes itself. The American decides to retreat again to the field hospital, to revise their plan and to let the soldiers receive treatment. They plan to return to the battlefield the day after Christmas.

During Christmas, both sides are having ceasefire. The troops hold a party for the soldiers, the medical practitioners, and for the supporting staff of the war. For a day, they are allowed to forget about the state of the world that they are currently living in. They sing carols, they pray together, and they dance around the fireplace.

As much as Hange wants to join the party, she volunteers to stay in the medical tent with other soldiers who cannot join the party due to their sickness and injury. She is not alone though, she is with Nanaba. They think that they ought to give the older nurses and doctors a chance to unwind themselves from their duty.

“Do you want to listen to a story, Miss Nanaba, Miss Hange?” A man with brown hair inquires as Nanaba apply a new compress to his forehead. Meanwhile, Hange is a few beds away from them, currently taking the sheet off the empty bed to put it on the basket.

“Is it a story about your wife and your daughter, Mr. John?” Nanaba replies with a playful tease.

The man shows his left hand, a golden wedding band can be seen circling around his ring finger. “Yes, look at this, isn’t this beautiful? Every time I see this ring, I remember my beloved. She is the most beautiful, kindest, and intelligent person I’ve ever met.”

“Yes, Mr. John. It’s beautiful.” Nanaba replies, genuinely. Hange shares the same sentiment. If she ends up with someone who loves her the same way Mr. John gushes over his wife, Hange would become the happiest person ever.

“Ah, wait until you meet my daughter.” He grabs something from under his pillow, it is a photo. He shows the photo to Nanaba. “Look at her, isn’t she precious? The last time I met her, she could barely stand on her own… I wonder how big she has gotten? I bet she has grown into a cheerful and energetic child. I’m sure she’s currently running around the house, tiring her mother to no end.”

Hange puts the sheet to the basket before approaching him and Nanaba. “We know, Mr. John. You miss them, right?”

The man let out a sad smile as he stares at the photo, “Yes. It’s been four years since the last time I spent Christmas with them…”

Hange shares a look of understanding with Nanaba. The blonde nurse gives a pill to the man, “Let’s wish that we are finally able to celebrate the next Christmas in the warmness of our homes.”

The man nods, his eyes bright with hopes. After taking his pill, it does not take him long to finally sleep. Nanaba tucks him into the blanket before helping Hange to take off the dirty sheets, blankets, and pillowcases.

However, suddenly, two men come into the tent. Hange recognizes them, they are Mr. Furlan and Mr. Ackerman. Hange and Nanaba ask them about their visit to the tent. Mr. Furlan informs them that a soldier was injured in the party, he broke his ankle.

“Well, I guess someone is getting a little too excited for the party.” Nanaba remarks, her voice latches in worry but also amusement.

“I know.” Mr. Furlan chuckles. “There are a bunch of nurses and doctors at the party, so we come here to ask for first aid bag.”

“Oh, it’s on the pharmacy tent. Let me get—” Hange’s speech is cut short by Nanaba.

“No, Hans. You stay here. If there’s an emergency, you are the best we got.”

Hange furrows her brows, “Huh? Alright.”

“Good idea!” Mr. Furlan exclaims before gesturing toward the other soldier. “I will go to the pharmacy with her while you stay here, just in case Miss Nurse needs your help.”

Neither Hange or Mr. Ackerman are able to reply or object, because both Mr. Furlan and Nanaba vanish in a blink of an eye. Hange glances toward him and as usual, he has that frown on his face. Suddenly, he looks at her and it catches her off guard. He seems to be surprised too, but he hides it quickly. “What can I do to help?”

“Ah—Uhm, you can help me to change the bedsheets.” Hange explains, gesturing toward the empty beds inside the tent.

He nods and walks toward a bed on the corner while Hange choose the bed across him. She keeps looking at him, not so subtly because he realizes it.

“What?” He asks when they both go toward the basket at the same time, putting the old bedsheet inside.

Hange smiles sheepishly, “Ah, I just realize. I never catch your name.” She says, which is obviously a lie.

He shrugs, “Well, I never throw it to you.”

She chuckles, it is probably not something he says to amuse her. It is probably not even that funny, but she still laughs anyway. There is just something about him that attract her right from the start.

“But I can throw it if you want.” He says with a little hint of humor that is hidden underneath his blank stare.

“I don’t want you to throw it.” She replies with a grin. “I want you to lay it to me gently.”

He raises one of his eyebrows before giving her a subtle smirk, “Levi Ackerman. Just call me Levi.”

“Hange Zoë, pleasure to meet you.” She nods at him, “I let the soldiers call me anything, but they mostly call me Miss Nurse.”

“That’s a bit of mouthful.”

“Well, what do you want to call me, then?”

He smirks at her before returning to another bed, “Enough chatting, there’s a lot of stinky bedsheets that we need to change, four-eyes.”

Hange raises her eyebrows, intrigued by the nickname that he gives her. She laughs and answers, “Yes, yes, Mr. Soldier.”

After taking off all the bedsheets, they replace it with a brand new one. At first, she thinks that he helps her out of politeness, but it seems he really enjoys the task. He makes sure that the surface of the sheets and pillowcases are smooth, he even folds the blankets very neatly. Hange smiles the whole time as she observes him and the subtle joy that appear on his expression.

“How long since they’d been gone?” Levi asks as he sits on the chair while Hange sits across the table, his hand holding a cup with steaming liquid inside.

“Too long.” Hange answers before she sips a cup of warm instant tea that she made.

He hums, taking the cup to his mouth. “Maybe your friend gets caught up in the party.”

“Maybe.” She giggles, putting the cup on the table. Hange scans his face and snickers, “Speaking of, I heard that you are the best soldier that we got in here.”

He scoffs at her remark, “Nonsense.”

“They say you are so strong, it almost like you are invincible in battle.”

He clicks his tongue, narrowing his eyes at her. “I never thought you like to gossip.”

“Well, sometimes I do.” Hange replies as she looks at his posture. This is her first time seeing him without his uniform. He still wears his uniform pants and shoes, but this time he wears a white shirt that shows his muscles. She returns her gaze to his cup as she tries to keep herself from smiling.

“You know, I’ve never seen you before.” Levi suddenly asks her. Hange is pleasantly surprised by his question, he never thinks that he is interested to get to know her.

She giggles, “Of course,this is my first time being a nurse in field hospital. Before this, I acted as a nurse aide for a year in the big hospital. However, as the war stretch all the way into years, the demand of medic in the front lines are high as ever. That’s why I began my work here last October.”

“I see.” He acknowledges. “That explains why you look so young.”

Hange tilts her head in amusement, “You speak like you are an old man.”

“Maybe I am.”

“I don’t believe it. How old are you?”

Levi looks at her for a few seconds before glancing away. “Today I turn 26.”

Hange blinks as she stares at him. Suddenly, her eyes widen when she understands the implication. “OH MY GOD!”

“Hey, quiet!” Levi reprimands as he looks at the surrounding. Fortunately, the patients are still sleeping soundly on their bed.

“Oh my God.” Hange repeats with reduces volume, smiling joyfully at him. “Merry Christmas and Happy Birthday, Levi!”

“Thanks.” He murmurs before sipping his tea again.

They sit together in silence as they wait for their respective friends to return from whatever journey they are having. But then, as the night goes even more late, Hange feels herself to be in a talkative mood. Thus, she decides to break their silence by asking the question that she has been wanting to ask. “What do you think about the war?”

He does not immediately answer nor even spare her a glance. However, he looks like he is in a deep thought. Hange realizes that they are not that close for her to ask such question.

“You don’t have to answer it—”

“It’s a lot of things, you can ask one soldier to another, and they would probably give you different answers.”

“…Well, how about you, then?” She speaks her words slowly and softly.

He let out a sigh. “It feels like a nightmare that you can’t wake up from. It went on and on, constantly. In the end, you have no fucking idea which one is a reality, and which one is a dream.”

She notices the veins that appear on his temple, and she also notices how he grips his cup tighter. “I’m sorry. That must be hard and confusing for you.” Hange utters gently and carefully.

“Yeah, it’s very shitty.” He adds as he looks at her. “It changes people too, you know. Not only the soldiers.”

She nods weakly, “Yeah. This is a world war. I’m sure that by the end of this, the world will change too.”

“True… and I don’t think I want to change.” He remarks. “That’s why sometimes I wonder if it would be better for me to just run toward the bullets.”

Hange’s body freezes as she holds her breath, “What—”

“It’s a joke.” He immediately reiterates, his lips grinning as if he is emphasizing his words.

Hange narrows her eyes at him, not in every ounce believing his words. She bites her bottom lips before asking, “Don’t you have someone waiting for you back home?”

“No.”

Hange’s heart sinks when she heard that. Then, without even thinking about what she is about to say. With a clear voice she declares, “Well, you have it now.”

He stares at her with uncertainty, “Huh?”

She returns his intense stare with a softer and gentler one, “You heard me.”

There are a lot of emotions passing through his face. His eyes widen at her, while his mouth left slightly agape. He seems like he wants to reply, but no voice is heard.

“That’s why you have to promise me that you will survive.” She smiles at him. “Because I’ll be waiting here for you.”

It takes her a few more minutes to realizes what she was implying. A heat crawling onto her cheeks, she tries to open her mouth to save them from the impending awkwardness.

“Sorry we took so long.” A cheery deep voice comes into the tent, it is Nanaba’s voice. “Ah, Mr. Ackerman. Your friend said that if you need him, you can meet him at the party.”

Levi leaves his seat walks toward Nanaba. “I see, thank you for the information.”

“No, I should be the one who thank you for helping, right Hange?”

Hange immediately stands up from his seat, “Yes… thank you, sir.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

She hears the hoarseness of his voice, but she does not have the courage to take a look at his face. Even when he bids his farewell to them, she still chooses to keep her head low, purposely avoiding his face.

However, that does not mean she did not wonder about what expression that he made when she told him that.

—Chapter I End—

[sera-cb]

My vaccine experience has been terrible and stressful and it’s put me in a really weird spot where I 100% believe everyone should get this thing if they’re at all able, but also am terrified to try again myself. Which I have to do, it turns out! Because even with this capitalism’s efforts to do things cheaply and as automated as possible has just absolutely fucked me apparently.

Like first off, I have a day job five days a week and every other weekend I am scheduled to do art streams, one for backers and one for comms, which both are typically needed to make ends meet.  Work won’t pay me to miss time for side effects, and I’m finding it very difficult to do these big-ass seven hour streams two weekends in a row on top of my usual work weeks, so finding the right time to get the first dose was a nightmare, but also

that nightmare began with like an hour wait inside of a Walgreens to see if the last appointment would show up or not, because “walk-ins open” is sort of only half true I guess, but largely because if they just gave it to me they’d need to open a new set of the things and they’d all go bad for my sake and that sucks.  Fine, I get it, but the dude didn’t show so they scheduled me for the next day.

Then, as I was walking away, the dude shows up, and the guy flags me down and goes “hey let’s do it now after all.”  Rad, I thought. Progress.

Another hour waiting in Walgreens.

I finally get the shot. She hands me some papers. I need to wait around for 15 minutes to be observed, they said. Alright, fine. I read the papers while I wait; the side effects of the shot possibly killing you are basically 1:1 with what happens to me during a panic attack. I’ve developed this weird history with needles where I get panic attacks or something adjacent with some weird and mildly random delay after getting any kind of shot.  Now I’m thinking about that and the room is spinning. I call my wife hoping she’ll talk me down. I get about two sentences into that call before I wake up to my phone ringing on the floor.  Nobody on staff notices.

Three hours after getting there, I hobble out of Walgreens. I’m basically wiped out for three days - even without the shot, the weird lightheaded shit I get from these pass-out sessions does some vile stuff to the rest of my body that lingers for a day or two sometimes.

I was advised that since I got the shot day-of after all I’d need to reschedule my appointment, though, and this led to problems.  Walgreen’s vaccine setup only does appointments in pairs; if you missed the first, you won’t get the second, and there was to our knowledge no way to do just the second, especially via their robo phone tree. Kaz deals with Walgreens all the time for her meds, so she knows how to get through the phone tree - it’s by being so hostile that I feel bad for the robot, for the record - but when asking if we could schedule just a second shot either they hung up on us or the line went dead.

I said “screw it, I’ll just show up in a few weeks,” but then I just never did, because I didn’t have a hard deadline to my knowledge and I was quite stressed out from the whole experience, but it turns out that the day I finally worked up the will to get the second dose? Where I had people willing to be there for me in case things went south again?

Three days after the six week deadline before the whole thing is moot, which nobody told me about.

So now I’m back to square one, barely able to work my will up for one more shot but staring down two, wondering if this means I now have the option to go somewhere else or if that counts as mixing vaccines, which even I know to be bad, and feeling incredibly lost and frustrated with the whole thing.

And the brutal truth is that none of these places have accommodations for Kaz that would allow her to get the damn shot anyway! She can’t stand around a Walgreens for hours. She could barely walk back to where the pharmacy even is, and all like two chairs back there are made for skinny little asses so she’d have nowhere to sit while her spine declares war on her. (And this is all ignoring that she basically can’t go out during daylight without a bunch of excess precaution since her antidepressants have rendered her some sort of vampire in the skin department, by which I mean the amount of time it takes for her to get sunburnt is less than the time it takes to walk to the car from the house.)

So I’d still need to act like I haven’t had the shot, because even though it’d stop me from getting sick, I could still bring something home and transmit it to her. Nothing about my life would change. I cannot go back to “normal.” At this rate, ever.

So on the one hand I’m with everyone going “hell yeah get your shot”

but on the other I am effectively one of the people who hasn’t, with someone else who hasn’t and seemingly can’t (I do not understand why we can’t just set up an appointment with her doctor, who does have accommodations, for this??? Why does it need to be some retailer pharma??), and the whole thing is both deeply frustrating, confusing in implementation, and leaving me feeling like a hopeless statistic that’s here just to frustrate everyone else.

Like, I’m probably never going to have a group of people over again? Game nights are gone. Socializing is gone. Web calls never replaced it, we’re not that important to anyone. Holidays are well dead. My family has tried to talk us into attending church for several things, including Christmas and Mother’s Day, and just doesn’t understand how not plausible that is. Kaz is high risk; I have been assured that if she gets COVID, she almost certainly will die. I can’t play fast and loose with this shit like everyone around me wants to. I’m forced to come into work every day as it is and still dread coming up the stairs and being forced to be within five feet of another person, none of whom have ever masked during this thing. If I thought there was a safer job available to me that wouldn’t leave us homeless, I’d take it in a heartbeat.

Sorry for the long post. I just feel so defeated by this whole mess and I keep seeing post after post saying anyone who doesn’t get the shot is an idiot, basically, and while I realize we’re outliers I feel terrible all the same.

[hexusproductions]

Heavy-Handed

Summary: The first time Prince and Viper meet face-to-face and have an actual conversation

Author's Note: Disclaimer; Roadhog and Junkrat might be a little ooc because I had to make it seem like it Wasn't Them (I wrote this as part of my course work), Viper also isn't in charge but this is from Prince's POV and he thinks the other two are too moronic to lead.

There is a definitive smell of chemicals in the room that even permeates the cloth tied tight around his eyes. The remnants of something bitter stains his tongue, the last of the awful cloud he remembers ingesting before waking up here. The skin of his hands chafe when he tests the rope he can feel binding his wrists together behind the back of the chair.

A serpentine hiss emanates low from his left. Prince’s ears prick, entire body straightening as he goes rigid at the sound. Fruitlessly, his head tilts one way and then another, searching for any information about his surroundings, yet the hiss has long since ended and the only sound is the slight clinking of bottles. That too promptly stops, leaving a silence that has Prince’s nails digging into his palms. Thick-soled boots stride over, coming to a stop from around the area of Prince’s front.

“You’re awake!” There is undeniable glee in what’s definitely a man’s voice, tinged with a French accent, “Thought I would need to use the antidote for a minute there. My name is Viper.”

“What the hell is going on.”

“I could ask you the same,” From the sounds of it, Viper is standing about an arm’s length in front of him, “I have seen you once or twice before trying to play hero, but this time you were actually trying to stop my friends and I.” Prince’s wrists tug against the ropes again.

“I demand that you untie me,” His coat tugs back at his shoulders as he leans forward a degree, flat tone edged with anger, “I won’t let you hurt innocent people.” Knives strike his face, and Prince cries out as blood begins to trickle from the wounds. The knives - claws - tear the blindfold away, and Prince’s temporary blindness as his eyes adjust to the light is soon replaced by a recoil as he looks up and finally sees the man who calls himself Viper. Thick muscle fills out a sleeveless snakeskin jacket and a stretched out singlet, slitted green eyes smirk down at Prince with the same cocky malice as fangs poking out from behind his lips. Their sharpness matches that of the claws on his hands, still stained with Prince’s blood, and a reptilian tail twice as long as any man curls behind him, thrashing at the air.

“Aren’t we such a Boy Scout?” Viper hisses again, tauntingly. A writhing pink tongue licks over one of his fangs, and Prince’s lip curls. His disgust causes Viper’s wicked grin to widen.

“Are you going to eat me?” Prince’s question is spat out with venom. Viper leans down and brushes Prince’s cheek, easing downwards to then poke a claw under Prince’s chin and force his head to tilt upwards, meeting Viper’s gaze.

“Aww, chaton,” Viper dipped into a French pet name, “Are you afraid of a little bite?” Prince’s own bladed blue eyes burn a hole into Viper’s, white-streaked brunet curls clinging to his forehead from sweat. Then, Viper takes a step back.

“Maybe.” He answers, and chuckles to himself as he walks around Prince’s chair. With the blindfold off, Prince is able to crane his neck around and see that Viper has gone to rifle through the contents of a large steel shelf, one of the several that are lined up in what he decides must be the pharmacy storeroom. A ceiling fan swings overhead, and fluorescent lights illuminate the room in yellow-tinged white.

Prince’s gaze lingers on the shelves. Squinting, he concentrates, and the shelves all begin to rattle.

“Ah ah. I know about your power over metal.” Viper warns from where he still has his back turned, reading the labels of boxes, “Those shelves are bolted down. Besides, moving them would bring them down on top of both of us.” Prince remains still for a moment, but the rattling ceases and he untwists his head to look forward again, a scowl etching deep into his otherwise ceramic features. He glares at the door only a couple metres in front of him, more-so because it’s the only entity within sight.

“I can’t allow you to keep robbing pharmacies. People need their medication.”

Viper huffs out a laugh as he returns a box and its contents to the once again stable shelf.

“I am not ransacking these places! I am only searching for what I need for my new project.” Viper pauses for a moment, and Prince can feel Viper’s eyes fall on him, “You also cannot really stop me.”

“I won’t stop until I do.” Prince assures him. His breath hitches in his throat as the end of Viper’s tail wraps around his neck, smooth and leathery and suffocating.

“Then you may have to go home in a bodybag.” Viper growls. Prince tilts his head up again, this time of his own volition as it becomes difficult to suck in air. With another quick glance towards the door, Prince utters a low snarl.

“Have your crew abandoned you?” He questions. The question sounds clunky, even to himself, but Viper doesn’t seem to notice.

“No, they’re-” A loud crash emanates from beyond the door, and Viper sighs with restrained irritation, “They’re keeping watch.” Viper’s tail flexes against Prince’s throat, causing Prince to gasp as the snake walks back across the room - arms full - to a ratty bag sitting open against the wall. He’s depositing what he’s chosen into it but Prince is too focused on his chest heaving, a burn starting to ignite in his lungs as he struggles to breathe. Viper notices the display, watching for a moment with another sick smile, but then loosens his grip and pulls his tail back. Oxygen returns and Prince chokes on it, body folding over as best it can as he coughs and hacks.

“Why are you doing this?” Viper closes the bag and stands, sounding more curious than anything.

“Why are you?” Prince chokes out with citrus-like bitterness.

“I asked you first, lapin.” Viper gestures towards him and crosses his arms across his own broad chest, the corner of his mouth pulling upwards.

“...To help people.” Prince eventually spits out, with a look that would have cut any other person down, “To save them.” Viper lets out an amused little ‘ha’ but doesn’t reply further, uncrossing his arms and beginning to turn. Prince’s gaze flickers to the spot beside Viper and back just as quick.

“Are you going to answer the question or not?” Prince prods. He keeps himself stoic when Viper stills, a strand of his own long and well-kept hair falling over his shoulder as Viper directs his amusement back to its source.

“I won’t go into poetry or anything like that. I am doing this,” He tells Prince, and a glint passes in his eyes as his fangs flash again, “Because I am good at what I do.”

Prince’s entire body tenses.

The door swings open, enough force pulling on the handle and screws that it tears through the frame and hits Viper, sending him half-crumpled sideways. As Viper cries out the ceiling fan is torn down from its base, Prince leaning forward so that he isn’t hit by the metal blades as he manoeuvres them like a saw against the rope around his wrists. They fall to the floor in a torn heap and Prince pushes himself out of the chair. Viper rises to all fours, head whipping around to Prince with a feral snarl. Prince rolls his arm underhand and the fan is sent spinning at a dangerous speed in Viper’s direction, forcing the snake man to lunge out of the way and giving Prince enough time to untie his feet. A splay of the hand and the fan splits apart, the individual blades like darts that fly backwards to spin above Prince’s head for a precise moment before speeding forwards again. The sharp edges clip Viper’s limbs and he roars, falling again as Prince bolts for the open door. He emerges into a white and sterile blur and easily vaults over the pharmacy’s front desk, sprinting across thin carpet and head-on into a large mass that sends him onto his back. Roadhog, Viper’s muscle, barks out a laugh from his tattooed gut at the man he had just clotheslined. Prince shakes his head to regain his bearings, and he spots a shelf holding sets of skincare products and stuffed animals. This one is not bolted down.

Roadhog’s gilded fists reach down to grab Prince but the shelf barges between the two of them, horizontal like a plow as it pushes against Roadhog and forces him back. There’s a noticeable strain as Roadhog braces himself against the shelf, using his greater strength to try and push against it. Prince stands up, keeping his arm raised to keep driving Roadhog back and attempt to overpower him.

“Oi! Over here!”

Prince grits his teeth. Junkrat, the spindly spitfire of the team, and a weapons and explosives expert. His prosthetic arm waves to get Prince’s attention, the other holding a fittingly monstrous gun. The grin splitting his face in two promises that Junkrat intends to use it.

Roadhog shoves against the shelf, yanking back Prince’s attention. Junkrat is ordering him to release his friend. Prince keeps looking between the two, one fight he’s about to lose that’s leaving him vulnerable to another attack. Prince groans at the idea that appears in his mind, more-so from the consequences. Nonetheless, he drops to his knees and a wave pulses through the air. Anything and everything metal rockets away from him, pinned against the walls with an inhuman amount of force. Roadhog grunts as he’s similarly trapped against the wall by the shelf, squirming but unable to move. Junkrat has crumpled to the floor, the force of his prosthetic sending him backwards causing a head-first collision.

The magnetic field continues to resonate, consistent waves that never waver, while Prince remains on his knees. He can feel a migraine coming on but nonetheless feels around his pockets for his phone, dialling.

“Hello?”

“Miss Leonardo.” Prince forces down any sign of pain from his voice as he greets his director, “I have Junkrat, Roadhog, and Viper all restrained.” The cold distance in Scarlett’s voice when she answered - just stress, Prince assures himself, just stress from the mission - is replaced by the warmth and cheer Prince is used to hearing.

“Wonderful! Good job, Alyosha. I’ll send someone to take care of it right away!” As soon as Prince relays his address, she hangs up, forgetting to say goodbye. A sliver of pride cushions Prince’s chest, lasting until another wave tightens his throat with nausea.

“The police will be here soon.” He states, more to himself than anyone, fighting the urge to cradle his throbbing temples, “You three aren’t going anywhere.”

[manage-mischief]

The Negative

PART ONE

Read on AO3 here. 

Summary: Two-shot inspired by the song from “Waitress.” In which Tonks knows something’s wrong—she just doesn’t want to admit it to herself. Good thing Molly and Fleur are there to offer some support.

Author’s Note: This fic is inspired by the song from “Waitress,” the musical. If you haven’t heard it, definitely give it a listen. Some of the dialogue is included here. This work is focused on Tonks as a character, because she was really underdeveloped in the last book. Since we clearly saw Remus freak out when he found out about Teddy, this is me assuming that Tonks did, too. I tried to get the timeline right as best as possible. It’s a bit confusing in the Deathly Hallows, tbh. Anyways, here’s the story. Equal parts fluff and angst. I’m new to fanfic writing, so any kind feedback is appreciated! P.S. I refuse to write Fleur’s dialogue in that horrid French-style that JK used. I omitted her “h’s,” but that’s it.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Waitress. What I do own is…nothing. I own nothing.

“Come now, poppet. It’s better to know,” Molly cooed as she rubbed Tonks’ back in slow, soothing circles.

“It is probably nothing,” Fleur nodded encouragingly.

Tonks withdrew her head from between her knees to glare at the Frenchwoman. It sure as hell wasn’t nothing.

The last few months of her life had been absolutely perfect. After a long and arduous battle, Tonks had finally dragged Remus down the aisle. Well…it was a lot more romantic than she made it sound. The couple had wed in a small, intimate ceremony earlier that summer. They both knew there was no stopping the impending darkness of war that was fast approaching, but nonetheless, had decided to spend whatever time they had left together: a massive “up yours” to Voldie and his goons.

True, life since their union had been a bit hectic. When they weren’t working undercover for the Order, they spent all of their time together in their bedroom—the only room in their small London flat that got any proper use. Undoubtedly, that’s how Tonks had ended up in her current predicament. After being late, followed by several days of morning sickness, she was fairly certain she was pregnant.

“Here, we have the test, we’ll soon find out. It will all be fine.” The kindly ginger handed her a cookie and a cup of tea.

Merlin bless Molly Weasley. After concluding that her illness may be more than a common stomach bug, Tonks had visited The Burrow straight away. She wasn’t exactly sure why. She could have gone to her parents’ place, both of whom would have been thrilled about their daughter’s growing family. Somehow, though, the prospect of going to her mum and dad with such news had terrified her. It made the situation more real. And Tonks was not ready to accept that any of this was really happening. 

It wasn’t that she didn’t want kids. In all honesty, she had never really thought about it. She still felt like a kid herself. Plus, with the current violence sweeping their world, now was certainly not the time to be thinking about new life. She had never even discussed the prospect of a family with Remus. But, she was sure that even if he did want children—something she slightly doubted, given his anxieties about his condition—he would agree that now was nowhere near the proper time to start a family. Oh Merlin. She hadn’t yet considered how Remus would react. Her nausea returned. She groaned and brought her head back between her knees.

“Oh my, is she going to be alright?” Fleur questioned Molly as if Tonks wasn’t there. “She looks like she is going to faint! Poor thing!”

“Maybe I’d feel better if I broke your nose,” Tonks growled.

“It must be the ��ormones,” Fleur remarked, throwing a look of pity in Tonks’s direction. That did it. Tonks rose from her chair, fully intending to draw her wand and wipe that look off of the blonde’s pretty little face. Molly was quicker. She firmly placed herself in between the two younger witches.

“Alright now, let’s all calm down and let Tonks take her test.”

“Calm down? Calm down?!” Tonks was shaking. “How can I calm down! This is a bloody disaster! I’m… I’m not ready for any of this. Remus isn’t ready!” Her voice broke. She collapsed back into her chair. Merlin’s pants, she had never been so emotional before in her life! Perhaps Fleur had been right about the hormones.

Molly kneeled in front of the anxious witch and stroked her hair. “We don’t even know if there’s anything to panic about yet. Let’s not jump to conclusions.”

“So, you think there’s a chance I’m not pregnant?”

Molly pursed her lips. “Well there’s always a chance,” she replied, unconvincingly. “But you’ll feel better once you know for sure. Isn’t that right, Fleur? Don’t you think Tonks should take the test and find out?”

“Oh yes. It will be much better to know for sure. I ‘ope you drank enough of your tea. Apparently, this Muggle test requires you to pee on it! Quite odd!” Fleur cheerfully opened the little box containing the pregnancy test they had hastily picked up at the pharmacy in town. Tonks was hoping to avoid a trip to St. Mungo’s until she deemed it absolutely necessary. There were too many prying eyes at the hospital for her liking. Merlin forbid some loose-lipped colleague of hers spotted her in the Magical Maternity Ward…

She sat up properly. “Alright. What do I do with that thing?”

Molly walked across the small kitchen to Fleur’s side. “Read us the instructions, Fleur. What does the box say?”

“’N’insérez pas le bâton dans vôtre…’”

“English, Fleur!”

“’Do not insert the test stick into your vagina.’”

Molly rolled her eyes, exasperated. “Wow! Thank you, Fleur!”

“I am sorry. That is obvious…I am getting nervous!”

“You’re getting nervous?” Tonks wasn’t sure she had made the right decision by coming to Molly’s after all.

At least all of the antics allowed for a momentary distraction. She joined the Weasley women on the other side of the kitchen. “Fine. Gimme the damn stick!” She yanked it from Fleur’s hands and headed for the loo, slamming the door behind her.

Sitting down on the toilet, she stared at the small object in her hands. What would this mean for her marriage? Was a kid really something she was ready to handle? She was snapped out of the beginnings of what would have been the day’s fifty-seventh panic attack by the sound of scuffling outside the bathroom door.

“I cannot ‘ear peeing. ‘As she done it yet?”

“Shhhh, give her some privacy! She’s clearly terrified, poor thing. Why, I remember when I found out about Bill…”

Oh, for the love of…

“I can hear you, you know!” Tonks shouted. The whispering stopped. Footsteps quickly retreated from the door. After a few more moments of existential crisis, she finally took the test.

Tonks emerged from the loo and found her companions sitting inconspicuously at the table. Molly was staring blankly at a copy of Witch Weekly, while Fleur was holding the latest issue of The Daily Prophet, whistling. Both were failing miserably in their attempts to act casual. Fleur peeked her head out above the paper. “Oh, are you finished? I ‘ave been reading the news this whole time. I did not notice. Did you know Rita Skeeter is writing a book about Dumbledore?”

Tonks rolled her eyes. “Fascinating. So, how do I find out the results?” She shook the stick, which she had wrapped in toilet paper, as it was now covered in her pee. She wrinkled her nose. Did Muggles really live like this?

Fleur dug the paper instructions out of the empty cardboard box. “You will ‘ave to wait three minutes, and then lines will appear. One line means it is negative and two means it is positive.”

“Well, let’s focus on the negative, shall we?” Tonks sarcastically quipped, flopping down beside Molly at the table. She picked up The Daily Prophet that Fleur had been pretending to read and immediately regretted it. The headlines stood out in thick, black ink as she flipped through the pages.

Five Wizards Killed in Mystery Attack

The Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore: Rita Skeeter Reports

Dolores Umbridge Continues Crusade Against Half-Breeds, Muggle-Borns

She hastily crumpled up the newspaper and tossed it into the hearth. Molly and Fleur stared at her, surprised.

“Piece of rubbish, anyways,” Tonks whispered. In reality, she had been frightened. Too many horrible things were happening in the world, and the thought of bringing a child into being at such a time felt extremely irresponsible. “How long has it been?”

“Thirty-six seconds.”

“Dammit.”

“Thirty-eight seconds…”

“Okay!”

“Thirty-nine…”

“Let’s change the subject, shall we?” Molly came to the rescue, yet again. “Fleur how is construction on the cottage going?”

“Oh, it is quite wonderful! Bill ‘as been marvelous. ‘E ‘as built it so our room overlooks the sea. It is very beautiful. I cannot wait to move in for real. And I am sure you will be glad when we are out of your ‘air, Molly.”

“Oh, no, I will miss you both dearly,” Molly assured her daughter-in-law, though the hint of excitement in her words betrayed her. Though the two women had got on much better since Bill’s attack, their very different personalities often clashed. It was probably best for the both of them to get some distance.

Tonks’s leg was bouncing up and down at the table as she fruitlessly attempted to take her mind off of the time that seemed to be moving cursedly slow. “How long has it been, now?”

“One minute and twenty-three seconds.”

Tonks groaned impatiently. “How’d I ever get myself into this mess?”

“Well, did you not use protection? I thought you and Remus were very careful about that sort of thing,” Fleur innocently questioned. She immediately winced, and Tonks was quite sure that Molly had kicked the girl underneath the table.

The Auror felt her face flush. “Well, he got me drunk,” she replied, defensively. “I do stupid things when I drink…”

“Stupid things, like sleep with your ‘usband?” Fleur giggled. The girl was ballsy, Tonks had to give her credit. If she hadn’t been filled with crippling anxiety, she would have appreciated Fleur’s positivity and wit.

Molly suppressed a laugh. “Focus, Fleur. We’re trying to take Tonks’s mind off of her… predicament.” Molly chose her words carefully. “Remember. We’re focusing on the negative!” She smiled optimistically at the metamorphmagus.

“Well, the test could be negative. What if…maybe, ah, what is the expression…maybe Remus’s wand does not cast any spells…if you know what I mean. That would be lucky!”

The other two women choked. Tea spurted out of Tonks’s nose. Molly huffed. “Oh yes, miraculously lucky, to get away with an unprotected f—“

“Funny how one night can ruin your entire life,” Tonks lamented. How she was going to survive this last minute, she didn’t know. Fighting Death Eaters was less nerve-wracking.

“Just, calm down, goddammit!” Molly snapped, clearly getting anxious herself. There was only so much complaining the mother of seven could take. “Let’s all just pull ourselves together! Now,” she chided.  

The three women sat in silence, shocked by Molly’s outburst. Tonks had the unshakable feeling of having been scolded by her mother. She gazed at her hands shamefully, picking at her fingernails until Fleur spoke once more. “The test should be finished.”

Tonks’s heart flip-flopped in her chest. “I can’t look. One of you do it.”

Fleur eagerly reached for the test, but Molly held her back. Her face was stern. “You can, and you will, Tonks. It will all be alright.” Her eyes softened.

“It was only one night,” Fleur added. That did nothing to assuage Tonks’s fears. She could hear the seconds ticking by on the clock. Her stomach was in knots. But, she knew that they were right. She had to find out the truth. Whatever the result.

“One line. One line,” she chanted to herself. Fleur nodded encouragingly. Molly remained still, her face unreadable.

Tonks picked up the test, carefully unwrapping it, as if it were a Hippogriff that would attack if she approached it too quickly. “This is it.”

She turned the stick over in her hands, only vaguely disgusted by the fact that she had peed on it not five minutes earlier.

“Shit.”

[miraimisu]

GUESS WHO’S DONE WITH THE THIRD INSTALLMENT OF THIS BEHEMOTH

/spins chair dramatically: MOI

So like the thing is I AM done with the fic on theoretical terms because all the buddy building and world building and THE WHOLE HOUSE IS BUILT BUT IT NEEDS A CEILING AND FLOWERS and all that nice stuff so I WILL BE WORKING ON THAT. After the fic is done completely, I will have to beta it, fill in a few gaps and probably correct some parts that need some revamping to fit the tone of the story and all that jazz

yadda yadda yadda 

SO for [spoiler] reasons I cannot show a snippit for this arc as much as I would love to because it has SO MUCH OF THAT GOOD BUDDY STUFF /chef kiss, so instead what I’ll show is the VERY VERY VERY beginning of this fic-- this is the beginning of the VERY first chapter!

This will probably be due to corrections and stuff but this is how it looks, from back when I wrote it in July! Please enjoy! <3

                Chapter 1 | Ludwig Town

If there is one thing Gladion is good at, it should be sneaking around and not being noticed by unwarranted enemies. He has lived his whole life hiding from any offenses and leading a modest life in the small campsite of Ludwig Town, where everything is soil, golden wheat and modest merchants ambling about.

But sometimes, his patience is worn thin and not everything is merchants and wheat, but criminals and people clad in costumes that look stolen from a sunken pirate ship.

Two bodies collapse on the group simultaneously as Gladion cleans the blade of his silver sword with the hem of his dark shirt, the metal catching the dim sunlight of the sinking sun. “I told you I didn’t want to hurt you, but I really don’t enjoy being chased around for a pair of pennies, especially when this town is this poor. Have some decency and stop harassing me.”

The two bandits scramble away from the man, panic dripping from the way they tremble and look up at him with wide, round eyes. The two like fairly similar, wearing red and black and orange and a very suspicious cloth over their mouths, which muffles their words as they try to fight him verbally. “Dude, who the hell are you? We just wanted to talk! No need to try and beat us to a pulp, it was so unnecessary!”

“Right, and that’s why I assume you have been chasing kids in this town for their bread money; just to talk, am I right?” Sword sheathed, he puts his hands on his hips. “Also, nice of you to admit that you did get beaten. But I couldn’t care less about what you wanted to do.”

Gladion had been running from these two guys for around half an hour before he had gotten tired and handled things on his own way. Aggressivity is not in his DNA, nor is being so confrontational, but he really is pissed at these people. He has seen them around town harassing little kids for their pocket money and in his passiveness, Gladion had refused to do anything, no matter how guilty he felt after the fact.

But they had poked him in the wrong places when they asked for money. If anything, they should have been glad he chose to run away instead of taking out his sword. Daggers and swords don’t mix well, if their wounds and precisely cut bruises are any proof of that.

They had proven themselves to be pretty clumsy. Useless criminals without jobs wanting some money. What a waste of space.

In due time, the criminals pick themselves up and stand on their feet. Gladion’s hand is slanted on the handle of his trusty sword -- Silvally, he had named it -- in a silent warning, green eyes sparkling with threat. The bandits don’t look like they are about to ask for his money again, though.

“Dude, you definitely got the guts,” says one of them, moving their hands around as they speak in a manner Gladion can only classify as obnoxious. Walking migraines is what they are. “You could join us. Y’know, get on boats and pillage some losers. We go on sick adventures all over the Kandrus Dominion. Our boss is a really rich guy!”

Their misconception that wealth equals power really amuses him. Judging by the disarrayed state of their clothes and how their daggers are rusty at the edges, Gladion can confidently say that they don’t look rich or powerful. They look like some grunts taken out from some history book, those with mossy edges and dusty pages. 

“I don’t really care about how much you make out of other people’s misery, or how nice and rich your boss is. I'm going on a big journey tomorrow and I need my coins.” They hadn’t asked for his life story but Gladion hopes they will understand he really can’t be bothered today. “I was in a good mood until you two came by. You could have spared yourself the battle and left me alone.”

A trembling whimper comes from one of them. “Can someone like you even be in a good mood? What even is a good mood for you?”

“Clearly the opposite of what I’m feeling right now, so scram already or I’ll chop you into tiny bite pieces.” Hand curled around the leather handle of his sword, he takes out the blade just a little. “We can spar if you want. I’ll count down to ten.”

The bandits take a step back, hands shaking with eyes wide as saucers. “Dude, what’s wrong with you? Threatening people like us, belonging to the fearsome company of the Bla--”

“One, two…”

When they realize Gladion is being serious, they make the smart decision of running for their lives and leaving him in peace, which prompts him to keep his sword in and sigh, rolling his shoulders until a small crack rings through the soreness. It has been a long day, running errands all over the town to grab some extra coins and have his gear in check. He deserves some rest, to sleep the jitters and excitement for tomorrow off.

He realizes that he is pretty close to his house and parts in that direction, stretching his arms letting his legs loosen up after the long chase.

Ludwig Town is fairly small in comparison to other towns -- or, at least, the many maps he has read say that, because he has never been out of his small town ever since he was a kid. It’s all houses, farms, windmills and a lake to the right. Everything is close together and the people are amicable. It’s just right for his needs.

He has always lived here for as long as he could remember, yet he knows he used to have a family. He lives with his godfather, a scientist from a faraway city that had run away at the wake of war, but he used to have a mother and a sister, that much he knows. 

He isn’t sure where they could be, but as years had gone by, he had begun to find Ludwig Town too small, too familiar. The lack of a real family had fed his previously mild nostalgia until it became real longing to search for them, if they are alive. Someone has to know something. 

Nobody in this town knows anything, but someone for sure must know where they are; out there, somewhere.

Gladion enters his home. “Good evening.” Nobody answers, but he doesn’t mind the absence of his godfather; the latter is rarely in the house himself. He is usually busy looking after his clients in homes as a doctor or working with pharmacies for a quick coin. This evening is no exception.

The house is quaint, small and packed with everything he needs, A small sofa, a bookcase, potted plants everywhere he can see and a little kitchenette. His room is to the right and his godfather’s is to the left, a bathroom at the end of the hallway. The chimney is on, indicating the house had had company shortly before. 

Gladion walks to a narrow coffee table between bookshelves, where not only a potted plant stands, but also a small medallion with green, black and golden on the edges. He’s not sure what it is meant to signify, but his godfather had found it in his old clothes one day and told him to keep it.

It’s a very odd piece of jewelry. It has a golden chain attached to it, so shiny it must be worth several bags of coins, but he has always refused to let go of it. It has a little hole on the right side where a wire or maybe a little key could fit, but nothing he has tried ever opens it.

Under the medallion is a photograph he would be taking to his adventure. The image is washed in sepia and blurs of white, very likely caused by time and aging. The faces of the two women by his side are blurred and unrecognizable, along with their clothes and their hands. 

Gladion’s face is barely recognizable. The only thing that lets him know it’s him in the photograph is the trademark spring of his uneven fringe, which he keeps around to this day.

The tall woman’s hair is long and possibly blonde, and the little girl by his and her side has also long hair and flowers on her head. The image radiates certain raw energy he can’t quite explain.

The door clicks open as his godfather makes his way in, throwing shadows over the entire home. “Ah, Gladion. Glad to see you made it here safe and sound. I heard from Miss Delabrié that you were cornered by some criminals earlier.”

Gladion turns around. Faba, his godfather, still wears the same green and white lab coat and turtleneck under it. He knows the clothes are very expensive, so much so he does not look like a Ludwig citizen. The round glasses sit on his nose without a speck of dust to cloud them.

The other nods curtly. “I took care of them already. They have been causing a lot of trouble lately.”

Faba looks at him in earnest curiosity, head tilted slightly. Despite his known position as a man of science and utmost precision, he is mostly clueless about Gladion’s dedication to his sword mastery. “I assume you did not get hurt in that endeavor, did you?”

“I’m the best swordsman in this village. Of course I didn’t.” He is evidently confident in his abilities, and Faba is just as pleased by this claim. His nod radiates satisfaction and posedness, very much to be expected from a man just as proud of his own abilities. “I didn’t want them to take my coins. Tomorrow is the big day, after all.”

— 

and that’s all I can show without spoiling anything but just know that in this household we agree that Faba is an absolute [redacted] and we are gonna keep it that way

[growingabushbaby]

In the Beginning

For some reason every time I think about the fact that I’m pregnant I recall Bridget Jones in the pharmacy in Austria, trying to order a pregnancy test in her very limited German and resorting to just shouting “MIT BEBE”, and miming a very round tummy (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GTCKAy3buxo). To be honest, I find myself wanting to do the same, on a fairly regular basis, when there is the slightest chance that someone might fail to notice (there’s no need to mime the tummy, at month 7). This is not because I’m showing off, or because I want extra attention. It’s because I feel the need to explain why I am rather cross a lot of the time, or prone to tears, particularly when you steal my parking space or shove past me in the milk aisle. Or why I am pounding Snickers bars at an alarming rate in my car so as to finish them before I get home to Callum’s disapproving look. Or why I just threw up in my mouth a little from the indigestion that never goes away, and had to frantically swallow so as not to get regurgitated Snickers on you.

Don’t get me wrong – I am so, so excited that I am pregnant. I still can’t believe that we got this lucky. But fucking hell, it’s not easy.

Before I go on, a quick and respectful acknowledgement to the many, MANY women who have it a lot harder than I do. I fall onto a spectrum of pregnancy experiences that cannot even be imagined, it’s so broad. I have been unlucky in some ways, but mostly extremely fortunate in others. The main reason for writing this is so that I have an outlet other than my poor long-suffering husband, and also to give out a few (hopefully useful) heads ups which I wasn’t given before I embarked on this journey.  

The Beginning…

Given my history of ovarian cysts and endometriosis, I didn’t think we would get pregnant easily. In fact, I pretty much used that as the bulk of my persuasive arsenal when talking to Callum about trying for a baby. When he agreed, heavily under the influence of Christmas whisky, neither he nor I imagined that it would happen within 3 months. I don’t think he’s quite forgiven me for that…bottom line is, though, it proves that despite the ways in which your body may have ‘failed’ you previously, there really is no hard and fast rule which governs your ability to conceive. I have met so many women with cysts and varying degrees of endometriosis: many of them already think they won’t be able to conceive – or worse, they have been told by their doctors before they’ve even turned 20 that they’d better try ASAP because it’s so unlikely to happen. Yes, these are serious reproductive conditions that may complicate matters in a number of ways. But please don’t give up on your incredible body and its capabilities just yet.   

I found out I was pregnant while I was in England, away from Callum. I hadn’t been feeling quite right, and one night I got excruciating cramp in my right calf and after hobbling to the loo I promptly passed out onto the bathroom floor. I was only a couple of days late, but I took the test and it presented me with a very faint line that Mum and I peered at for quite a long time before agreeing to wait a few days and try again. Once that second test confirmed it, all I had to do was wait a bit longer to tell Callum. Then the strange reality of it all began.

In the very early stages, you’re faced with the enormity of what has happened, but you keep it pretty quiet, which is very strange. We told close family, and friends we see on a regular basis (mostly because they would immediately notice I wasn’t drinking). This was ok for a week or two, as it was still only just sinking in for us and it felt quite special to have this little bundle of cells as our wonderful secret. Then, quite suddenly, the little bundle of cells decided things were far too peaceful. To be completely honest, thanks to the body’s amazing ability to block out horrendous symptoms once they’ve passed, I can’t remember when I first started to feel sick. All I knew was, I felt sick…all the time. 

“Morning sickness”? I’m calling utter bullshit on that. All-day-and-sometimes-night-sickness is more appropriate, with the occasional moment of blissful reprieve to remind you what normal feels like. I was not vomiting, but I had a terrible upset stomach, which would come on without warning. For a while I really couldn’t leave my bed, and would croak at Callum for plain pasta or toast with marmite if I could stomach it. I had to keep crackers by the side of the bed to shove down my throat when I woke up at 2am overcome by nausea. Callum said it was like sleeping next to a squirrel. I had to leave a birthday party after only 20 minutes because my stomach suddenly turned and I knew I couldn’t face being responsible for turning their one bathroom into a warzone. I once walked into the meat section at the supermarket and had to flee immediately.

The nausea wasn’t actually the thing that hit me hardest. I was prepared for all of that, because everyone had warned me about it. Ok, I didn’t really understand how awful it would be, but it wasn’t a surprise. What got me was the exhaustion, both physical and emotional. On the one hand, I’d zone out mid-conversation, find myself slipping away while sitting at the table, and pass out for hours in the middle of the day. I didn’t have the energy to see anyone, and couldn’t even bring myself to sit around the fire listening to others talking and laughing around me.

On the other hand, I was becoming more and more freaked out by what was happening to my body. I looked in the mirror and didn’t recognise myself. I didn’t fit into any of my clothes, but had no discernible baby bump yet, so just felt fat and wobbly. Having been fairly flat chested my whole life, my boobs were now growing by the day and it was so excruciating that I had to sleep in a sports bra, and would wake up in agony whenever I rolled over. I didn’t know this body; I didn’t know this person. It completely terrified me. I would cry in the bath, not understanding what was happening and then feel immensely guilty for not being overjoyed by the miracle that was growing inside me. Witnessing me curled in the foetal position, crippled by nausea and blinding headaches, miserable for no apparent reason, Callum would keep saying “it’s all going to be worth it,” and I would reply bleakly, “is it?” in utter desperation. He worried about my diet – I was just eating pasta, bread and crackers with the occasional handful of sweets thrown in every now and then – but I couldn’t face eating anything remotely healthy, and I certainly didn’t feel like cooking.

I HATED being so exhausted and sad. I’d wanted this for so long, had imagined how it would be. It was so far from the blissful picture of glowing skin and radiant happiness that if I hadn’t been feeling so dreadful I would have laughed about my naivety. It took quite a few reminders from kind friends/husband/lady in the queue at Pick and Pay of the following point to shake me out of my self-loathing:

I WAS GROWING A HUMAN BEING.

Despite the fact that it’s all you can think about, it’s very easy to forget this point. I read somewhere that a pregnant woman uses up the same amount of energy just lying down as a fully grown, healthy man would during an intense gym workout. That put things into perspective a bit. I started to pay more attention to my symptoms – when I felt suddenly like I might pass out, I thought “ok, maybe I’m growing a bit of brain right now.” Or when I nearly threw up after a sip of orange juice, I thought “well maybe the baby just doubled in size.” Although I still felt like shit, I also started to feel a teeny tiny bit powerful. It was still terrifying when I caught sight of my ballooning body in the mirror, and it still hurt like hell whenever someone hugged me too tight. But my body was doing this insane new thing, and that was pretty fucking cool.

[keithtranzam]

To My Trans Fledglings

I’d like to impart a little wisdom to all the fledgling trans people out there. Yes, I’m still only 6 months on T and have a long way to go yet, BUT I’ve still been through a lot and have learned plenty more.

I see a lot of posts on FB, tumbler or wherever else asking on how to start hormones, what to do about therapists, how to get an appointment with a doctor, etc. And of course depending on where you live, what country, what state, what town, and depending on what insurance you have IF you have insurance, and depending on your home life, your support system, etc, there are a thousand different ways to go about transitioning, and you of course have to find the way that’s right for you. So what I’m about to write was simply my way and how I decided to do it. These are recommendations, and by no means is anyone obligated to follow them.

THERAPISTS

First and foremost, I HIGHLY recommend a gender therapist. Not just any old therapists. A normal therapist has no idea what the hell they’re talking about, and I’ve heard horror stories of very harmful things being said to trans people. No, you specifically need a gender therapist. One that had experience. One who’s helped other trans people transition.

Do your homework! Look online fist, google ‘gender therapists’ with your zip code. When you find some CALL them! Specifically ask them how long they’ve been practicing, if they have lots of experience helping people transition, explain your situation, ask if they feel they’d be a good fit for you!

But I promise once you find the right therapist (yes it takes time to find the right one!) you won’t regret it. You NEED someone professional to help you transition. I don’t care how stable you are, you will have hardships. You cannot predict how everyone around you will react, how people in your family will treat you, how your coworkers will treat you. A therapist will help you figure out how to come out at work, how to talk to difficult family members, how to maintain friendships, etc.

I would NOT have been able to transition as seamlessly as I have without my therapist. She was a miracle worker for me and helped me come up with a plan on how to come out to my wife’s family and how to speak to management at work. I only had to go once every 2 weeks and after that once a month. Now I don’t need to go at all.

DOCTORS

You may have heard of informed consent versus getting a therapy letter. I highly recommend the therapy letter. Mainly because I recommend having a therapist. My therapist was willing to give me my hormone letter on the very first day. I chose to wait because I wanted to sort out some fears with her first. But any good gender therapist will NOT be a gate keeper! They will give you your letter within the first three sessions if you really want it. If they don’t, they’re not a good therapist, find someone else.

With a therapy letter, a doctor simply accepts it. You do not need to answer any embarrassing or personal questions, no one gets up in your business. With informed consent you have pages and pages of questions to answer and they basically dissect you under a microscope to make sure you’re mentally sound enough to understand what you’re doing. I didn’t want to go through that, which is why I got a letter.

Now, for the doctor themselves. Another reason to get a gender therapist with experience, they can refer you to a doctor who also has experience helping people transition. And trust me, again you want a doctor with experience! They know what they’re doing, they’ve helped others do it, they don’t ask stupid or offensive questions. Also, and this is important:

YOU DO NOT NEED AN ENDOCRINOLOGIST!

I’ve seen so many people saying they’re going to a specialist! You don’t need one. I don’t even understand why so many people are being referred to them. Testosterone and estrogen are the normal hormones that we naturally have in our bodies! ANY general practitioner should know how to take blood and tell you if your hormone levels are ok. And they should be able to write a prescription for T or E. It’s as simple as that. If a doctor doesn’t know how to prescribe a medication and read blood work they shouldn’t be practicing medicine at all!

My doctor is a plain old general practitioner. BUT, he is special because he is well known to the trans community for helping trans people transition. He had that experience I’ve been talking about. THAT is what’s important. If you have a therapist, have them refer you to a doctor. If you do not have a therapist, find a doctor the same way I described finding a therapist above. Google ‘transgender doctors’ and see what comes up. Then CALL. Ask the receptionist about informed consent, ask if they require a therapist letter to start hormones. If she doesn’t know what you’re talking about, that is NOT the doctor’s office for you. You need to find a place that has enough knowledge to do things like ask for your preferred name.

The visit itself should be fast, simple and easy. My doctor did a quick physical, took some blood work, and wrote me a script for T that same day. I drove down the road to the pharmacy and picked it up, all within an hour. There’s no reason they should be making you wait for weeks or months. The ONLY reason would be if they’re waiting for your blood work results to come back first.

So that is my shpeal for the time being. I was just getting so sick and tired of seeing so many trans fledglings, who just don’t know any better yet, being told by all these professionals that they have to wait for whatever stupid reason they’ve come up with. It can be simple and easy and it SHOULD be simple and easy.

As always, I’m always open for questions if anyone is having issues. But if you’re in a metropolitan area like I am, you really shouldn’t have these kinds of issues. If you’re stuck in a rural area and there’s only one doctor clinic for miles and miles THAT I understand. But otherwise…no. Just no.

[monsteramongmen-tamer]

#35: “About the baby...it’s yours.” & #41: “I’m pregnant.”  -Roman Reigns.

Thanks anon for the request. 

Tagging: @kaitlynwwefan, @panic-angel3314, @shieldgirl95, @earl-01, @nickie-amore, @blondekel77, @reigns420, @littleprincess1621, @m-a-t-91, @luckygillblog, @finnbalorsbabygirl, @unabashedwwesmut, @blackwidow2721, @wrestlingimaginesposts, @wweburnitdown, @thirstiswet, @princesstoniii, @birthday-prinxess, @princess3733, @princesses-reign-daily, @lip-sync,  @laziestgirlintheworld, @lclb13, @tinyelfperson

Warnings: ANGST as hell.

A/N: If you’d like added to my tag list, just let me know. 

Work lately was amazing. You had an amazing job that you actually enjoyed going to everyday. You were a nurse. Being a nurse comes with a crazy schedule. You currently worked in the ER and you were always busy. But that was what you loved. You never got bored and there were always things to do. New things came in every day.

Keeping busy was what distracted you from your home life, or lack of. Your boyfriend was always on the road, so you were always home alone. That’s why you always agreed to take the extra shifts at work. But lately, shifts were getting more difficult. You were getting sick. But that was no problem. You just hung out in an empty room with a basket, did your throwing up, and stuck yourself with an IV.

It was funny, how your relationship with Roman started. You both ended up at the same bar one night after a rough break up. You found your boyfriend in bed with another woman. Roman’s wife just couldn’t handle him being on the road all the time. Especially with the kids. So, she left him. It was so hard on him. It started out you guys just sitting in a booth talking about your problems, then it was texting, but one night when Roman got home from work, he invited you over. You didn’t think anything of it, because you guys were friends.

When you went over there, he had wine and things just ended up happening. From there on out, you’ve just been a thing. You were happy, he was happy. Things were great. The sex was phenomenal. It was a strange relationship in most eyes, but it was what worked for you guys.

This week was going to be about 6 months you’ve been together and you and Roman had planned on hanging out together at his place. It had been 3 weeks since you last saw him.

While you were getting ready to head over there, you get a phone call from work. They need you to come in.

You sighed when you got off the phone and sent Roman a text.

   -Hey babe. Something came up, can’t make it tonite. So sorry. I will see u tomorrow.

So, you went in and worked the night shift. It felt like the longest night you’ve ever worked. There was a mentally ill patient that kept trying to grab you and was hitting you on your side. When you looked in the mirror when you got home, you could tell it was going to leave bruises.

You went home and passed the hell out.

When you woke up, there were tons of missed calls and text messages. Work called again. They needed you to come in again. They begged. You tried to tell them no, but they convinced you. Can’t just say no because your boyfriend is in town. Roman also texted you to make plans. You agreed to meet with him to have lunch.

You got ready, but wore your scrubs, and noticed you were starting to bruise. Great.

Roman got a table at your favorite place.

“Hey babe, work clothes?” He asked, looking at you confused.

“Yeah, I’m sorry. They need me again. I couldn’t tell them no.” You said with a pout.

“You realize tomorrow is my last day in town…” He said, looking down.

You grabbed his hands, “I know. And I’m all yours. I’ll even shut my phone off if I have to. But today, I have to go in. I’m so sorry.”

The two of you ate your lunch and Roman was kind of quiet. You figured he would be upset, and you would be too if it had been you. But you couldn’t blow off work to just stay at home and do who knows what.

Roman kissed you on the cheek before walking away. He was still upset.

Should you call in? No. You can’t that’s why you’re going to work in the first place.

So, you went to work and it was another rough shift in the ER. A bunch of druggies were brought in and one of them were violent. The man tried to strangle you. He did manage to get his hands around your neck, but thankfully authorities came to your rescue before anything got worse.

You were used to people beating up on you, but today just wore you out. You took a minute for yourself and sat in a bathroom stall. It wasn’t long before you got nauseous and were throwing up. When you came out of the stall, one of your co-workers was standing by the sinks.

“You’ve been gettin’ sick a lot lately. You pregnant?” She asked.

You laughed, “Pshht,  no I’m not pregnant. Probably just the flu going around.”

She nodded her head at you and gave you a judging stare and then left. You took a handful of water and splashed it on your face. That helped a bit. But you couldn’t help but to think...could you be pregnant? You haven’t gotten your period this month, and you should have gotten it last week, you’ve been getting sick. You haven’t had sex in about a month.

“Shit.” You said to yourself.

You then went straight to the pharmacy and bought 4 pregnancy tests. You had to be sure. You then went and bought a large pop and went to the lounge. Once the druggies left, things slowed down.

In the bathroom stall, you felt yourself begin to breath heavy. You peed on all 4 tests. Now you wait.

Your few minutes were up and you looked at the first test.

Positive.

The rest of them read the same thing. You couldn’t help but cry. You wanted to be a mother, but you always thought you’d be married. And right now was a bad time.

You pulled out your phone and texted Roman to see if you could go over to his place after work. He said yes and that he needed to talk to you.

You got off your shift and headed over there. You kept the pregnancy tests and put them in your bag.

Roman was sitting on his couch playing a video game.

“Hey.” You said, sitting on the other side of the couch.

“Hi..” He said.

“How was the rest of your day?” You asked him.

“Fine. Stayed here did nothing, went to the gym, came back and did nothing again.” He said in a very monotone voice.

“Look, Roman I know you're mad, but-”

“Are you cheating on me?” He asks, cutting you off.

You looked at him with wide eyes, taken back, “Excuse me?”

“Are you cheating on me while I’m on the road. Be honest.” He asked, now sitting up looking at you right in the face.

“I cannot believe you are asking me this. What makes you think I’m cheating on you?” You asked.

“Oh I don’t know. You decide to suddenly “work” all the days I’m home, you ignore my calls and texts throughout the day, and I can see a bruise on your neck. Is that a hickey?! I knew it!” He said.

“Roman, are you drunk?” You asked.

“Don’t change the subject. I’ve had a few drinks, yes, but we are talking about you here.” He said.

You shook your head in disbelief. Did he really think that low of you?

Just when you thought you should leave, you decided to get into it. You stood up and shut his video game and TV off. Then you took off your scrub top, revealing all of your bruises.

“Look, you think I’m sleeping with someone else? Do you not know what I have been though? See this bruise right here, on my stomach? One of my mentally ill patients did this because he couldn’t control his arm movements. Kept hitting me repeatedly until I managed to give him his meds. These, on my arms? A worried husband grabbed me too tight because he was worried about his wife who got into a car accident. And this lovely one on my neck? We had a group of druggies come in and one tried to attack me. I am lucky security came in and got him off of me before I was strangled to death. But yeah. I am just sleeping with someone else. I am so glad you’re so concerned about you, Roman.” You said, putting your scrub shirt back on. He just looked down at his beer bottle, not saying a damn word.

You went to the couch and grabbed your bag, “By the way, I’m pregnant.”

Roman looked at you like he saw a ghost.

Right before you walked out the door you turned around and looked at him, “Oh, and in case you’re wondering about the baby...it’s yours. Jerk.”

Then you slammed the door.

Walking down to the car, you were a bawling mess. You luckily made it to your car without anyone noticing you. You waited for the tears to dry up before driving home. Just as you were pulling away, you saw Roman running outside.

As soon as you got home, you went straight to bed. You weren’t working tomorrow, so you were just going to sleep. Roman left today as well, but he was the last person you wanted to see.

You woke up to the sun shining in your face and a loud knocking at your door.

As soon as you got to your feet, you had to run to the bathroom. Morning sickness really was no joke.

You flushed the toilet and there was still knocking at the door. It was only 7:30am.

Opening the door, you saw it was Roman. You immediately went to close it, but he was too strong, he opened it and came in.

“Y/N, I really need to talk to you.” he said.

You turned around and snapped at him, “About what Roman? You said enough last night.”

He ran his hands over his face, “I know and that’s not like me. I am so sorry. I shouldn’t have thought that. I was talking to the guys and-”

“You talked to the guys about this?! So they think I’m some whore too?!” You began to yell.

“Y/N, please calm down. I didn’t know any better. I thought you were avoiding me.” He said.

“I was at my damn job.” You said.

“I know that now. I’m sorry.” He said.

“Sorry can’t take back what you said. And frankly, I can’t even look at you right now.” You said, looking towards the hallway.

“I understand. I deserve that.” He said.

“Damn right you do.” You said almost under your breath. “You should just go.”

It took a minute, but eventually Roman did leave and didn’t say a word.

Right now, you needed some space. If he wanted to be apart of this child’s life, you weren’t going to keep that from him. But right now, you need to start planning on bring another human into this world. It isn’t just about you anymore.

The next move is up to him.

[dean-imagine-reblogs]

What’s an Omega?

Character: Dean x Reader  Author: Dean-imagine-reblogs Word Count: 7000-ish (it’s very long but it’s complete!)  Meanings: Y/N=First Name L/N=Last Name H/C=Hair Colour B/S = Body Shape Y/H = Your Height O/H/C = Other Hair Colour Y/A=Your Age  “”=speaking  ‘’=thinking

A/N: I hope you enjoy it, there is some s*x/smut in it. This story changes between your and dean’s POV. 

If you want to know more about the A/B/O genre then follow the link (Seems that spn is the start of this fanlore haha kind of funny to find out about it  ) https://fanlore.org/wiki/Alpha/Beta/Omega

  Enjoy and leave a comment!     Masterlist   ------------   *Y/N POV* You had been taking the pill since before you came here. Luckily you had just picked up two new packets of the pill from the pharmacy before you arrived here, in the SPN world. So you've been here for…maybe six months? You're still trying to find a way to get you home, but specifically to the right dimension.   In the meantime Dean and Sam had finally excepted where you were from and that you "knew" them but they didn't know you. It is a weird environment to be in! But they were getting more and more used to you… but so were you. They weren't the same as in the show. It w­as the small things like… Sam actually liked junk food and Dean didn't really love pie. You know the little things.   Anyway you were busy with research while the guys were getting ready for a new case on.   Before they left Dean came up to you with a cellphone. "If anything happens, call us immediately. If we don't pick up then leave a message. If you need someone immediately then call Garth, he'll help you." Dean said with his serious face. You just smiled. "Don't worry I'm staying here at the bunker, doing some research. Just be careful, okay?" He turned around and walked towards the exit. "Dean?" "Yeah, yeah. We've been doing this our whole lives you know." He said turning around to face you, you pulled a face and said. "Stop being a smartass and just tell me you'll watch out." He raised his eyebrow a bit. "Yeah, yeah." He said as he turned back to the door. You caught a glimmer of a faint smile as he closed it behind him. You just chuckled and went back to the library to continue your research.

  It had been 3 days since they left and you were going crazy with all this research with only dead-ends. It was discouraging but back to your pill ‘problem’.   You've continued to take them since you got here but two days before the guys left you ran out. So you thought ‘oh well’ and decided just to let the blood-bath hit you while the guys were gone.   On the second day you started to get really bad cramps. Which wasn't weird but you've never had them this bad before. On the third day it seemed like you were getting a fever and to your surprise, there was no blood-bath, just the horrible cramps and slick. Which again, you found weird.   By the fourth day you were in pure agony. The cramps were getting unbearable and your fever was rising. You decided to stay in your bed for the day with enough painkillers to make you pass out. Unfortunately, of course, you were nearly out of painkillers.   At the end of the fourth day you decided to call Dean, finding it to annoying to type a message.   “Hello?” you heard Dean’s rough voice. Why did you find him sound so sexy at the moment? “Dean? It's Y/N.” “Wow, have you been drinking? You sound a bit…rough?” Dean asked but you didn't respond. It was as if when Dean spoke the cramps got worse.   “Y/N, are you okay?” Dean asked. "Yeah I'm okay but I think I'm getting the flu, could you pick up some pain killers on your way back?" You though you could hear a sigh of relief? "Sure, we'll be there in two days. Think you can last until then?" “Asif I've got a choice.” You said with a soft chuckle. How you could laugh in a situation like this was beyond you. “We'll be there as soon as we ca-” you cut him off “Don't, like I said before be careful and I'll see you soon.” You could hear him chuckle. “Yeah, yeah.” and you hung up.   You put on your oversized sleeping shirt and got into bed after taking like 7 painkillers. Which is not the advised dose but you are feeling like you are dying and just want the lights to go out for a couple of hours.   When you woke up the pain was even worse, if that was even possible. The cramps were coming in heavy waves, you were feeling abnormally hot and your vision was blurry.   After a while you realized that were fading in and out of consciousness and that you were moaning. You don't know how long you've been lying there but every so often you could hear a sound, your cellphone. Every time you tried to move towards it, you either moaned out in those horrible cramps or blacked out again. It didn't take long either for you to feel something wet on your face, only to realize you were crying.   After what you think were another couple of hours, you could hear some rushed noises and your door slamming open. You felt like you were hit by a wall, a relieving wall, that made you moan again. One figure just stood there and then another figure showed up. You didn't hear what they were saying and you didn't care since you were preoccupied by a massive wave of cramps anyway.     *Dean's POV* We’re on the road, heading back towards the bunker. We had finished the job earlier than expected, plus I wanted to get back to Y/N. She hasn't text me back, which for some reason caused the alpha inside me started to get protective.   It had been a quiet ride back. We were nearly home when Sam turned the music off. “What do you think you are doing?”   “What’s the deal between you and Y/N?” He said, ignoring me. “What are you talking about? There is nothing ‘between’ me and her.” Sam started to laugh. “You’re joking, right?” “No.” “Dude, you are totally falling for her.” “Am not.” “Uhm, yes you are.” “Shut up.” ‘Just drop it Sammy, I don’t want to talk about it.’   It was dead silent in the car and even now I could hear his silent bitchin. He won’t let this go, I looked at him and he was staring back at me in his bitchin, judging manner. I looked at the road again and speeded up. I wanted to get out of this car as soon as possible. “You know what, you keep out of my love life and I’ll keep out of yours.” “Love life huh?” He said in a smug way. I love my brother but right now I want to kill him for his bitchin, I swear. “I don’t need to explain anything to you.”   ---   I called her several times on the ride here but she hadn’t answered. This didn’t feel right, there was something wrong. I jumped out of the car and ran inside to check on her.   I ran into the library and kitchen but she wasn’t there. “Y/N?” She didn’t respond either. “Where is she?” I mumbled to myself. “I don’t know but… do you smell that?” Sam asked. He was right there was a smell, very faint, a sweet scent.   I ran towards the stairs, going to the bedrooms. The smell was getting stronger, I opened her bedroom door and there she was. In bed, crying and in heat. Her scent was so strong, so intoxicating… it can’t be.   “Omg, Y/N?” I faintly heard Sam say.   She started to moan. I could feel my chest rise and hurt. I was ready to march towards her when I realized Sam had his hand on my chest and was holding me back. Making me growl in responds, Sam needed to back off.   "Stop" Sam said, I didn’t take my eyes off her. "She asked for pain killers." Sam said. “So?” I said in an annoyed grunt, jaw clenched, fixated on Y/N. "She doesn't know."   He was right but I just couldn't think straight. Her scent was so strong, it was obviously her first heat! “Dean, go.” he pulled me at my arm, closing the door. "Now.” It was only then that I really saw Sam, he was also having a hard time too. He was right, we had to go. 

---   “Dean, what are we going to do?” I looked at Sam but I didn’t have an answer either, not really. "I don’t know man but we can't leave her there, you saw her." I said rubbing into my eyes.   “Well, what are we supposed to do then?! Nearly everybody we know are alpha’s except for Charlie but she's somewhere chasing flying monkeys, Jody is unreachable and we can't go in there. I am not going in there and especially you cannot go in there!” I felt attacked by Sam, saying I couldn't see Y/N but he was right. “This is not good.” I said as I pinch the bridge of my nose. It was silent for a moment.   “We can leave her? I'm sure she'll pull through.” I can’t believe what I’m hearing. “No, no way.” I looked at Sammy. “What are we supposed to do then, Dean?” He raised his voice and hands in question.   I thought for a moment. “Well I know one thing for damn sure and that’s that I’m not just leaving her like that to 'sick it out'! C’mon Sammy, like you said, she thinks this is the flu for god’s sake. She doesn't know what’s happening and this could last another week!”   “Whatever Dean but besides that… I just can’t believe she's an omega. How did we miss that?” Sam finished quietly. Sammy was right. To be honest, I was just as surprised as him, omegas are rare. Usually an alpha would end up with a feminine Beta just because of the lack of omega’s.   I could see Sam thinking again. “What?” He looked a bit doubtful but said it anyway. “Well… this isn’t going away anytime soon and since her heat started already, suppressants won’t work anymore so… you should knot her.”   “What?!” I did NOT hear that right.   “Knot her.” I now just snorted at that. “Yeah right.” And looked away. “Why not Dean?” I looked back at him. “Why not? Are you friggin kidding me?!” I can’t believe he was seriously asking me that. “You like her, don't you? I've seen the way you've looked at her for the last 4 months.” I can’t believe this.   “Dude I'm not gonna knot some girl who doesn't even know that's she's a friggin omega. Hell, I bet ya she doesn't even know what it is or means” “But-” He was just not gonna let this go! “No! I'm not gonna knot her because… the way she is now I might end up mating her, without her consent.”   Sam fell silent at that. He was a good brother but he just didn’t understand it. Alpha senses are very different when it came to omega’s, at least compared to beta’s like Sam.   “So the answer is no and that's final.” Sam got this look, I could feel the alpha in me rise. “And neither are you!” Sam raised his hand in defense. “Dude I'm not going down there until her heat is over. I’ll be honest even as a beta, I won't be able to handle an omegas first heat. I barely got away from there to begin with.”   I let my hand slide over my face again, this was so not good.   I then got sick of waiting around. I went to the bags and took the painkillers. I made my way towards the door that leads to all our bedrooms.   “What are you doing?!” I could hear the fear in Sam’s voice. “I’m going down there and don't you dare to follow me. Keep your phone with you, I might call you with a list of stuff that you might have to get.” As I closed the door I could hear Sammy say. “Doesn’t love her, huh?”   I quickly dashed downstairs and into my room. I went through the drawers and found my suppressants shots. Lucky me, I had been in rut just a week ago so the suppressant should have a better effect on me now that I’m ‘normal’. I took two shots just to be sure and sat there in my room for a couple of minutes to let’s effect work.   ‘She didn’t look well, I need to get close to her.’ I looked at my watch, it’s been 20 minutes since I saw her. “I'm not going to leave her.” I tell myself as I exit my room.   As I walk down the hallway I can smell her scent, it smells like heaven. ‘And it could be mine’ I stopped himself. I should have waited longer for the suppressant to have worked. ‘What am I even doing? Why won’t I just leave her?’ Unfortunately the answer to that was quite simple. Sammy was right.   In the beginning I didn't like Y/N, she knew too much but as time passed she turned out to be really awesome and sweet. I actually started to appreciate her more and recently I caught myself thinking about stuff and wondering what Y/N’s opinion would be.   To be honest, that scared the crap out of me.   But on another subject, I don’t understand why this is happening now. Why hadn't I smelled it on her before? I didn’t even know she was an omega and I was the alpha in this home. How did I not notice?   I collected my thoughts again and continued my way to Y/N's bedroom. I took a deep breath and opened the door. Her scent hit me again like a giant brick wall.   She was lying on the bed, cramped up and moaning which must be because of my alpha scent. I looked at her face, her eyes screwed shut and crying.   She was crying.   I could feel my chest raising and my shoulders broadening in a defensive manner. I had to calm myself down again. After a minute I set a first step into the room, I took another step and another and another. I looked at Y/N, she looked flushed and out of breath. She opened her eyes, looking at me with her hazed E/C eyes.   “Dean?” she asked in a pleading manner and it took everything in me not to respond to the alpha within. “Dean, I don't know how I got sick.” Tears rolling down her cheek and her hands grasping onto her stomach. “I’m sorry.” She begged for help.   She did not beg for me or an alpha and in a very far corner in my mind that pissed off the alpha in me because this meant that she was not begging for me to breed her. But as I heard her crying, I could feel something break inside me. She genuinely didn't know what this was and instead of a typical heat breading scent, she let out a scared and confused one which made it an easier for me to suppress the instinctive alpha inside me.   “Dean?” I went over to her and cautiously sat on the bed next to her. She then really started to moan, her body going into shocks because of the cramps.   What happened next, I didn't want to but I had to. I started to get nervous, I hadn’t done that in a long time, I used my alpha voice to make her listen. “Y/N, stop shaking.” Her body stopped shaking. “Sit up.” and she did, slowly but still. “Look at me.” and she looked at me and I looked straight into her eyes. She looked in pain and confused.   “Dean?” she moaned. I swallowed at that, forcing myself not to imagine hearing her say my name like that as I would knot her. I desperately pushed that thought away. “Yes?” “Do you know what's going on with me?” Her eyes begging me, nearly hypnotizing, I couldn’t lie. “Yes.” “Can you help me, Dean?” I swallowed even harder at that one and couldn’t suppress a growl. Y/N moaned at that. This was not going well, I have to take care of her and quick before I have to run out of this room again. “I’m going to help you get through this and when you're better I'll let you decide.” She nodded her head in agreement.   I put my hand on her forehead, she was having a serious fever, even for an omega in heat. I grabbed her shoulders to guide her to the shower but she blacked out. “Y/N? Y/N?!” I lightly tapped her cheeks, trying to wake her up but it didn’t work. “Damnit!” I was starting to get panicked, this was not good. I pulled the sheet off of her being hit with another wave of her scent. She wasn't wearing any pants, only her panties, which were soaked through with her slick.   I clenched my jaw and took her bridal-style into the bathrooms and put her into the bath and let the water run. Hopefully this would lower her body temperature.   I took my cellphone and called Sammy, he picked up very quickly. “How are you doing?” “Awesome.” I answered sarcastically. “That bad, huh?” He said and he has no idea. Let’s just say that I’m glad I had the 2 suppressants. “I need you to get some stuff.” I said as I cupped some water with my hand and rinsed it over Y/N’s face. “Sure”   I was glad Sam didn’t make a fuss about the list. The only annoying question he asked was how I knew what exact stuff I needed. I didn’t even respond to that. “Just hurry up Sam.” I barked at him, right my patience was running thin. This was about the wellbeing of my ome- I mean Y/N.   I took the hose and let the water run over her body. After, I think, 45min her fever finally started to drop a bit.   After a while Sam quickly brought the supplies and after the shower I dried Y/N off. She was still warm but that was normal. I carried her to the bed but every time I wanted to leave She’d moan out in pain again. So I decided to give her some medicine and lie next to her in bed. It didn’t take long for her to crawl against me.   I’ve been on edge ever since I got in this room, not knowing how I would react to an omega and having her lie on my chest soothed her but it also soothed me. As she took hold of my shirt, with her head lying on my chest, occasionally moaning, her breath becoming more regular as I stroked her hair and she fell asleep.   I felt proude for having soothed her, it’s something I hadn’t felt in a long time. For now I let her sleep, I intended on going and having some sleep myself but it felt wrong so I stayed and watched over her for now.   --   This continued for a couple of days. Sam brought supplies and Y/N was in and out of consciousness. Every time I wanted to leave I just couldn’t, my instinct wouldn’t let me, I felt to protective of her. So during these days, the only times I left was when I absolutely had to for hygiene, food or drinks.   I felt Y/N stir under my touch. I then felt her body language change into surprise, shock. She suddenly shot up, I held her arms so she wouldn’t fall of the bed. “Dean? What’s happening?” She asked me confused.   There’s no getting around this anymore. She seems to be clear now and I don’t know how else to explain this. Here it goes, let’s see how she’s going to react.     *Y/N POV*   Dean had given me the explanation and I was trying to sum up the main things.   "So basically my only choice is to lock myself up and go through that pain or to find myself a mate? Because if I don’t find a mate then that means that any random alpha can boss me around." I stated questionably. “Basically, yes.” Dean answered. “And the person has to be an alpha.” I asked skeptical, shaking my head, trying to wrap my head around this weird world.   Dean answered very serious. “You can go for a beta but if you’re unlucky and run into a very dominant alpha, the ruling of the beta won’t stand a chance. An alpha scent quiet surely will keep you safe and will make sure that the other alpha’s don’t bother you because it’ll be clear that you’re already taken.” Dean explained calmly. I didn’t respond, I didn’t know how to. This was just so much bullshit but real information at once.   It was silent for a long time. This is so frustrating, what kind of world creates this crap! It’s like going back to the stone ages with primates and shit but even worse than I ever could imagine… aargh!   “Great. So I've got to mate somebody… and once that is done that person will be my partner… FOREVER and secondly I have to make sure that that person isn’t a total asshole who will intent to use me as some kind of slave because if so I’m simply not able to disobey that person?! And next to that every month and a half or so, instead of bleeding I’m just going to go crazy with pain, cramps, heat and become delusional.” I ranted nearly hysterical towards Dean. I couldn’t figure out his expression as he nodded yes. I then stared at my hands.   I can’t believe this. This is NOT happening to me! I’m not going to be some good little damsel in destress and let all those alpha’s walk over me, I can’t live like that! I then really looked at my hands and saw that they were shaking. I only then noticed that my cheeks were wet and I was having trouble breathing.   I felt a hand on my shoulder and slowly looked up. Dean was so close, I could feel his breath brushing my cheeks and my breath halted at that. Dean then spoke normal but for some reason it seemed so soothing to me, like I was in some kind of trance. “Don’t worry about it. For now you've just had your first heat. That will give you about a month and a half before you have the next. So for now take some rest.” He said as he stroked his thumb across my cheek, whipping the tears away.   Again, why did it feel so soothing when Dean spoke? But besides that, if he was right then I’d have to find a solution within a month. ONE MONTH. Dean let go of my cheek. I groaned at the loss of touch and at the thought of having to go through this all over again.   You’d think a month is long, trust me, it’ll be around the corner before I even freaking know it. My thoughts were then interrupted by Dean. “Besides maybe we'll find a way to get you home and you won’t have to.” He said. ‘God I hope not.’ Before I knew it I’d thought that. I should want to go home. I looked at Dean, looking him straight into his green eyes, feeling a bit sad. “I guess.” Dean gave a small smile and put his hand on my head and ruffled my hair.   He stood up and walked towards the door. “Dean?” He turned around. “hmm” “Thank you, ya know… for being here.” He didn’t say anything he just gave me a soft smile and nod and left the room.     *1,5 months later* Sam left on a hunt with Garth and Dean just came back from a hunt with Jody.   “You’re in heat again.” He stated, dropping his bag on the table. “Why hello there Dean, nice to see you too. How was your day?” I said overfriendly and sarcastic. He just snorted at that, which in return made me sigh. “Is it that obvious?” I asked softly.   “Well your scent is getting pretty strong.” He said, taking his guns out of his bag and putting them on the table. I put my book aside. “This is ridiculous, I didn’t have any cramps or feel heated until you walked in.” I moaned annoyed.   It was very faint but I could hear Dean mumble. “There will be more where that came from.” It seriously pissed me off. “This isn't funny Dean!” He gave an annoyed sigh himself. “Oh believe me, I’m not laughing and if you can’t handle it then lock yourself up like the other omega’s!” His annoyance being very clear and it made me feel attacked.   Against my feelings, which said that I shouldn’t speak against him, I carefully mumbled. “I don’t want to.” My mumble with a hint of shame. I could feel the tension in the air and hear Dean get really agitated as he made a heavy annoyed sigh. When he spoke, it made me flinch. “Well then you should have found yourself an alpha. I warned you this was going to happen.” Tears started to form in my eyes as he said that and I looked at the door that went downstairs.   I had to swallow at the thought of it, I couldn’t help it. I didn't want this. I didn't want to be locked up and be in pain for a week maybe even two. Dean had given me some magazines that explained this stuff and I bought myself some toys but I read online that even that wasn’t really satisfying and could be ineffective… even though the dildo’s were huge at the tip.   So conclusion was that even with the toys, I would still be out of it and in pain for like a week. Dean was right, I still didn’t have an alpha. I hadn’t even really tried. I didn’t want to be mated for life to some guy that I’d met and know for barely 3 weeks. This was only my second heat! I guess I just had to suck it up and get my toys…   “You’re right. I’ll go down in a minute.” I said, not looking away from the door as I felt tears falling down my cheeks again.     *Dean's POV* I looked at Y/N as she said that and saw the tears falling down her cheek. I’m such an idiot. This is just her second heat. It’s just, her scent drives me crazy. Right now I lose my temper so easily around her but seeing her cry, I just can’t take it to see her like that. Before I even realized what I said, I had already spoken it out loud.   “I'm an alpha” I said, looking at her and getting my hopes up… what the HELL am I saying?!   It took her a little while before she even looked at me and when she did I saw her giving me a sad smile. “Why doesn't that surprise me?” She answered.   It stayed silent for a little while. Y/N continued to stare at the door, I looked at my bag and took out a few things and laid them onto the table. The silence was killing me, so I started to babble on. “We could… you know.” I’m not even sure if she’d heard me. When I look up I see her looking back at me but instead of laughing or cringing like I expected her to, she gave me this sad smile.   “I don't want to ask that from you.” I felt my alpha pride being offended. “Why not?” Even I could hear the offence in my voice. I could see her flinch at my tone of voice. She hesitantly answered. “Uhm I don’t know about you but I thought we were talking about ‘mating’ not ‘knotting’.” I looked at her confused. “Yeah, I know what we were talking about.” I said seriously.   She slightly turned her head in disbelieve, still looking at me. “Mating.” She said again articulating it very clearly. “Yeah, I get that.” I said. “Do you?” I couldn’t help myself and started to laugh. “Yes, I understand the meaning of mating Y/N.” I raised one eyebrow, she looked unsure and scared at my proposal. I don’t get it. “I’d thought you’d jump at an opportunity like this.” I said carefully, not daring to make a sudden move.   It stayed silent for a while. I could actually see the gears turning in her head. I didn’t dare disturb her. I was surprised at myself for suggesting it but now that the cat was out of the box, I didn’t care anymore. And deep down I finally realized I actually loved her. I had actually know since the first time I smelled her scent. Sweetheart, please don’t break my heart.   “We’re friends right?” She said, taking me by surprise. “At least I thinks so… right?” She continued carefully. I nearly cut her off, I responded so fast. “We are.” I couldn’t help but look her in the eyes. She didn’t look away and it had turned into a quite intense stare. After a while I broke the ice “So what’s the problem?”   She sighed. “Because in my eyes you are amazing and you deserve better than some ‘friend’ from another dimension who wants to ‘solve this problem’ in order for her to behave ‘normal’.” She started to fiddle with her hands, staring at them. “You should be with an omega that you actually want to be with.”   Her word were kind and yet hurtful at the same time. She was looking towards the floor. I walked towards her and with every step I moved closer I could feel her become tenser, her scent becoming stronger, her breath heavier. As for me, I didn’t notice anything else in the room, it was only her. It annoyed me that she didn’t look at me. I gently held her chin and guided it so that she couldn’t avoid my gaze any longer.   It also became clear to me that Y/N didn’t recognize the effect my scent had on her but seeing her react to my touch, sound etc. it was obvious, she was my mate and I was hers. Just because of her lack of experience she didn’t notice. I’d have to make it clear to her in another way.   “First of all.” I took a step closer. “I decide whether or not you're good enough for me and if I didn't like you then I wouldn't have said I was an alpha or suggested this in the first place.” She seemed speechless at the moment, her cheeks flushed, I couldn’t help but tease her a little bit. “And besides we’ll only be stuck to each other for a little while, literally.” I said while smirking.   “Literally?” She asked almost shocked. I can’t believe this and started to get annoyed again. “Didn’t you look any of this up?” I asked annoyed and she flinched but to my own arousal and surprise she bite back. “I’ve been a bit busy!” She said pointing at the stacks of books and paperwork scattered over the two tables. Which were mainly researches for me and Sam’s cases and also some lore about getting her home. ‘Hn, feisty omega.’ I looked from her to the table, back and forth and noticed certain books about dimensions and time travel.   ‘Home, her home.’ I felt my gut falling, she’s been searching for a way home so even if I’ve found my mate there is still a chance she’ll leave me. That would be just my luck. Even the thought of it already hurt worse than hell. Having found not just an omega but my true mate and from another dimension none other the less and then this might happen.   I looked at her and she seemed to still wait for an answer. “Yeah I guess.” I answered carefully. Y/N stayed quiet for a bit until I heard her whisper something. “What?” I asked. She looked up at me with her bright E/C eyes. “Does that mean you like me? Even just a little bit.” She asked shyly. I couldn’t help but let out an aroused grunt. “Yes.”   There was another long silence, her scent became stronger, as I held my breath. She then carefully spoke again. “Are you sure? I don’t want this to get weird between us.” Her scent was getting stronger and stronger by the second. I briefly closed my eyes, focused and then looked straight into her eyes without a doubt in my mind. “Yes, I’m sure.” Not realizing I was using my alpha voice to reassure her. I could see and feel the tension leave her and she smiled at me as I gave her a small smile back.   I took a step back before I would completely lose control. “You go ahead downstairs. I’ll have a quick shower, by then you should have reached your peak, it will be more effective then.” I explained. She nodded and started to walk towards the door when I thought of something. “You have been taking the anti-conception shots, right?” I asked concerned. She turned around and was blown away by the confident, cheeky smile and tone she responded with. “Yes, why? Afraid you’ll get me pregnant?” She giggled in a nearly sadistic and daring way. I don’t even think I’d have to wait too long to reach my peak. The way she is right now, I could take her on the spot. ‘MY omega.’   ----   *Y/N POV*   I followed dean’s instructions, thinking about him, his scent still hung around me. I only got warmer and warmer, the cramps came again in stronger waves. It’s as if the further away dean was the worse I got. I went into my room, laid down on the bed and waited for dean as I held my stomach in pain.   It was odd, before, Dean’s words had soothed me and I couldn’t wind my mind around the fact that Dean would be my mate. I’m going to have sex with Dean Winchester and not ‘normal’ sex either. I started to get nervous, feeling like some kind of virgin, because I didn’t know what to expect really. I’d never done it as an omega. I was never so out of it, horney, warm and desperate like I was now.   I had closed my eyes and couldn’t keep my breathing under control, the cramps felt unbearable. I heard someone moaning only to realize that it was me. It then became dark, I didn’t notice anything until I felt a hand on my arm, the hand feeling intense warm on my skin.   “Dean?” I moaned and was met with lips touching mine. I tried to slowly opened my eyes but they felt so heavy, I could only open them half way. I saw dean, flushed as well with a wild look in his eyes. There was this smell around him, it must have been his scent. It was so strong, it felt like a soothing, numbing fog. He let out a heavy like animal grunt. I stopped overthinking it.   I let my hand go over his chest, he didn’t have a shirt on. It was so hot and electrifying. My other hand went to the back of his neck as his hands went to my lower back, pulling us closer together, feeling him rubbing against me.   Dean’s lips hungrily and rough went from my mouth to my jawline and going over my neck. Biting at it but not breaking skin. He pulled back and I let out a frustrated moan and let out a grunt in response. “My omega.” He said as he took off all his clothes. “Dean” I moaned as his scent became stronger and he helped me take off my clothes.   We were now completely naked, with me pinned down under him. He grabbed my wrists and pinned them down over my head, he kissed and nibbled my neck as he said with his rough voice. “I’m your alpha” As he said the word ‘alpha’ he slightly bit my skin, making me gasp out. Feeling myself become slick, trying to rub my thighs to stop the throbbing but dean stopped me.   Dean bit my skin again and I moaned out. “Dean” He bit again but harder. I let out a gasp and moaned again. “Alpha…” He licked this time and then bite again. “my alpha” I moaned. He bit harder, nearly drawing blood and let out another animal like moan. His manhood throbbing against my lower body, twitching. I let out an even louder moan. Indicating that I wanted more, I needed more and I needed it now. “Alpha!”   You quickly felt yourself being filled. You let out moans as dean whispered in your ear. “My omega” “Good omega” “Mine” “Breed” “I’m going to knot you” “Mine” “My omega” over and over again.   As he whispered his pace got faster until he was really pounding into you. With every thrust you let out a moan of pleasure and want. He let go of your wrists and immediately your hands went to the back of his shoulders, clawing into them. Receiving a heavy grunt from Dean.   You had no idea how long Dean had been pounding into you or how long you had been clawing at his back, moaning for him. He seemed to get close, he suddenly pulled out of you. Before you could complain he had turned you around, face down, lifted up your backside and filled you up again. Going at a merciless pounding speed. Making you literally cry out of bliss as Dean kept going and kissed your back.   You felt him getting bigger inside you, feeling him throb, knowing he was close you started calling for him. “Alpha, fill me. Make me whole.” Dean started having difficulty moving inside you. “Omega. Knotting you. Fill you up. My Omega.” Dean pushed inside you as far as he could, feeling yourself being filled to the max by his knot and Dean letting out a big grunt as he filled you up with his semen. You went over the edge as he bit your neck but not like the previous times, he bit deep, drawing blood.   Your entire body shook, overloaded with sensations. It felt like forever that you were being filled up by him and with his teeth still sinking into your shoulder. Your suddenly felt weak, heavy, like a rage doll. You felt Dean letting go of your shoulder and nuzzling your neck, whispering all kinds of things. He was still inside you when he carefully turned you two to the side and held you tight in his arms. He kissed and licked your bite mark as you fell asleep satisfied.   Half hour later you woke up and you were still connected to Dean. He quickly explained and made some smartass comments.   “You are pretty awesome, for an alien.” Dean said snorting the last bit. I playfully slapped him and offendedly answered. “Says the guy biting my neck like a vampire and having his dick stuck inside me while pumping me full with… his semen.” Just saying it out loud made my cheeks heat up while moaning it out and having it throb down below. Dean automatically responded by growling and biting my neck once more, again drawing blood. Making me yelp in surprise, feeling him tense and fill me up once more.   We stayed like that for a while until dean let go of my neck. I let myself go limp in his embrace but I still wondered. “Dean?” He kissed my neck as he responded “hmmm”.   “I've been wondering, is it always like this here?” He stopped kissing me “What do you mean?” I could feel my cheeks heat up with embarrassment. “I-I mean is the sex always so intense and… good.” He stayed silent for a minute and then answered. “No.” I tensed, did I just embarrass myself, am I the onl- “That only happens with mates, my omega” he growled, nibbling and kissing your neck. “You were amazing.” You felt such relief and aroused hearing that.   “I’ve been wondering” Dean asked and you hummed in acknowledgment. “How does it go at your place then? Don’t you people knot or something?” You started to giggle a bit, thinking about the situation you are in and answered. “No, dicks don't usually swell up until they get themselves stuck inside someone.” You could just feel him rolling his eyes and you continued. “And no, there are no alpha’s, betas or omegas.” It then became quiet and you looked over your shoulder at Dean. He looked in thought before asking. “But how do you know if you've found your mate?” You smirked and gave him a light peck on the lips. “We don't, we need to work hard for our relationships and hope that the person you love is truly your other half. Only time will tell.” You saw Dean thinking as he nodded in understanding.   It only then occurred to you what he had actually said and asked. You to turn around to look at him as best as you could without hurting each other since you were still stuck together. “Wait a second! Do alpha’s or omega’s know who their true partner or mate is?” Your surprise clearly noticeable in your voice.   “Well it’s different for everybody but you can usually smell it from there scent.” You looked at him surprised as his answer dawned on you. Your eyes grew wide and you started to mumble without real words coming out. Dean sighed. “I smelled it. The first time you went into heat.” You were still surprised as Dean knowingly smirked and gloated over you. “Me?” You asked the obvious. He nodded at first and then shook his head. “You didn’t notice a thing did you.” He said and slightly raised his eyebrow as if he wanted to say ‘you idiot’.   “I-I-I didn’t know. I-I just always thought you smelled good.” He grabbed your chin and kissed you passionately. When we were both out of breath, we looked at each other. “My alpha” You moaned “My omega.”   “Stay with me.” Dean asked you, his voice sounding like a plea. Without a doubt in your mind. You didn’t want to leave. You wanted to stay here with Dean. “I’m not going anywhere.” You stroke his scruffy cheek, him leaning into your hand.   “But do you even like me?” You teased him. “Obviously” he mumbled into your hand while rolling his eyes. ”Obviously? As if you’re captain-obvious about stuff like this.” You laughed. He pulls you closer and whispered in your ear. “Let me put it this way. Even if you had my mating scent, I wouldn’t have agreed to mating you if I didn’t love you. Unlike some people in this relationship, I know the extent and meaning of mating.” He ended trying to tease you. But you were just smiling from ear to ear which made Dean confused.   You gave him a peck on the mouth and said teasingly. “You said you love me.” He was surprised himself and had a ‘busted’ look on his face. He pulls you closer, holding you tight while teasing you down below, making you moan as roughly groaned into your ear. “Shut up and let me love you.”

[canaryatlaw]

OKAY. so my entire day post is going to be put under a cut because the entire thing is WAY TMI, but there’s way too much shit that happened that I need to process and I already gave the sanitized language version of it on twitter but I can’t fully process it without getting into details. you have been warned- WAY TMI. 

okay, so. backstory, I woke up on Tuesday with stomach pain and ended up spending most of the day on the toilet. By the time I finished (like 7 hours later- yeah it was BAD) I noticed there was something weird going on down there, but I wasn’t really paying attention. Wednesday morning I was having a lot of pain and it occurred to me that maybe because of Tuesday I had a hemorrhoid (it only gets worse from here, so if that makes you squirm you should bail out now), but like, idk because I’ve never had one before and idk what they look like, so I googled it and shit and did their home remedy stuff, sitting on a ice pack helped, I did a “sitz bath” (which is basically sitting in four inches lukewarm water for 15 minutes), aloe vera, and really nothing helped. Woke up this morning and it was still bad. I showered because the warm water did help a bit, but I was getting suspicious at this point that something else was going on here, so I asked my mom to look at it and she was like WOW OKAY WE’RE GOING TO THE DOCTOR. And here lies the problem of trying to diagnose and treat your injuries off google, because I wouldn’t have known that other than my suspicions that hey there’s this giant bulge in my ass crack and it probably shouldn’t be there. my primary care couldn’t fit me in today but they recommended we go to the walk in clinic, so we do that and the doctor takes one look at that and is like “yeah this looks like a rectal prolapse and a hemorrhoid and you need to go to the ER right away” OH JOY. so if you’re not up on your scientific vocabulary, a rectal prolapse is basically when part of your digestive tract comes outside of your body and usually requires surgery to fix. wonder-fucking-ful. Thankfully we’re close to the local hospital that’s like, the number one trauma center on LI (it’s like two miles from my house so that’s always been convenient) so we go there and the urgent care people gave us a letter to give the triage people, but we still ended up waiting in the hallway for like an hour and a half, during which I was in pure misery, but the male nurse who drew my blood was sweet though and slightly flirty but in a nice and not a creepy way so there’s that at least. he left the needle in my arm because it sounded like I’d be needing it at some point. So eventually we get called, and taken into a section called the clinical decisions unit, where I guess is where they figure out if you need surgery or not. So I get in there and someone comes to look and is like OH YEAH LEMME GO GET THE DOCTOR because everyone seemed to agree this was high key bad, so they got doctors, and more doctors, they even took pictures and sent them to the head guy of the department, but the consensus was oh yeah, this needs surgery to fix. and at this point I’m just like fine, just get it done. they did give me some pain medication around 3 or so, which ended up by 5 mg of morphine, which took pretty much all my pain away and I only felt slightly woozy lol but that perked me up significantly and I was actually like talking and stuff instead of lying there looking like death. there was a bit of a wait for the OR so we had to chill for a while, then eventually I get brought in there and the surgeon comes and like, I had been thinking all day about watching The Resident and just how ridiculously easy it is for them to just straight up kill patients in routine surgeries and they have the one chief of surgery who’s got a hand tremor and is just like slicing organs open, and then in comes this guy who’s like the #1 in the department and has gray hair and I’m just like FUCK MY LIFE I hope I survive this lol (I know the show isn’t very realistic when it comes to that subject). So we’re getting ready, their general idea is that they’re just gonna cut the damn thing off because it looked infected and shit, so they go to check and the doctor is like “oh, uh, it’s gone” and I was like......”really? are you sure????” cuz apparently it slipped back in because that’s a thing that can happen, but they were like well we should still probably go ahead with the surgery because the hemorrhoid is still there and could pop back out, so we go for it, they decided to not do general anesthesia but do sedation, whatever the difference between those two is, so I was out anyway and I woke up after and they were like “yeah so turns out it wasn’t a hemorrhoid and he didn’t have to do any cutting or stitching” and I was like “....so then what did he do?” haha and I’m still not 100% sure about that one really, but they were more than happy to send me home which I was very thankful for because I did not want to spend part of my spring break in the hospital. so they got me out of there pretty quickly with a giant bandage on my butt that I’m not sure is serving any purpose at all really, but they told me to leave it on there until I shit again so I guess that’s what I’ll do. We got home, my mom went to pick up the percocet they called into the pharmacy for me but they were closed, a little while after my dad and my brother got home, my dad was speaking at this big thing tonight that he’s trying to launch at churches across the island about understanding the opioid epidemic and how to prevent it, and he said not quite as many people showed up as he would’ve liked but it was still good so that was good to hear. As far as how all this craziness started, I’ve in the past had episodes of like scathing stomach pain that make me feel like I have to go to the bathroom, but I usually end up cowering in pain on the toilet with nothing coming, until eventually something will give and it’ll all just pour out as liquid (again, I told you this is TMI) and like, it used to happen a lot more frequently when I wasn’t eating much and my regularity was thrown way off schedule (like once a week) but I don’t do that anymore and I take a fiber supplement every day because I’m on a high dose iron supplement thanks to me being super anemic, so it’s usually not an issue, it happened the night of my sister’s sweet 16 at the end of October but I think it’s only happened maybe once in the four months between then and now? And I did bring it up at my last gastroenterologist appointment but he didn't seem to think much of it and said it was probably just another muscle spasm (because he had just said my chest pain issues were probably caused by a muscle spasm). The doctor from the hospital tonight apparently recommended I get a colonoscopy done at some point to make sure everything is alright and in place, but idk if I’m gonna do that because I have a pretty good idea of just how this happened, plus I have a lot of like, traumatic memories about that stuff from when I was little and they thought I had Crohn’s disease (when it was actually just nightly cramps for an entire year before my period showed up) and being subjected to a bunch of really invasive stuff that I was not at all comfortable with so that’s not exactly gonna be on the top of my to do list. Other than that they said not to strain when going to the bathroom and eat a lot of fibre, so I’m gonna try harder to eat actual fiber and not just the shit in caplets, and try to make that work out better. and yeah, that is about it, after all that I chatted with friends for a bit then started getting ready for bed with this absurdly large bandage on my butt 😂 We’re supposed to go out to dinner to this super schmancy place (because my parents have a gift card to it) tomorrow to celebrate my brother and I’s birthdays (his was today but because of all the crazy we’re gonna celebrate this weekend) so hopefully that will work out. And oh yeah, since I turn 26 in 11 days, if this happened 11 days from now I would’ve totally FUCKED because I would’ve had no health insurance thanks to getting kicked off my parents plan at 26!!! Lovely *sigh*. And as much as it does suck to get sick on vacation, I am at least glad I was with my family and not in Chicago where I had nobody except like, Jess (and no offense to her in the slightest, because I’m sure she would’ve been great, but with this kind of thing a mom is just better suited for it), and that sounds kinda miserable. Okay, that’s the end for real now, I took my pills a while ago and now my eyes really want to shut and I’m going to listen to them. If you made it all the way through, thank you for suffering through all that TMI to find out how I’m actually doing, though I kinda doubt many of you will actually reach this far, lol, but I cannot blame you for that. Goodnight my dear friends. I hope your Thursday was a hell of a lot better than mine.

[finsterhund]

Absolute fucking hell

Tonight was fucked.

I assumed the "Christmas killed my dog" mental breakdown would happen later, but we went out today and it fucking happened today.

Went to a craft store to look around. The christmas stuff was overpowering. It immediately made me super fucking depressed. It was filled with smells and there were like three different sources of holiday music playing at the same time throughout the store and I just really wanted to leave. It was a cacophony of misery and it was inescapable through the whole store.

After begging and pleading every single day I finally get taken back to the thrift store and the lifesize golden retriever is GONE.

I rush in there and he's fucking gone.

I got another different dog and while he's cute it's not the same man. Fuck. On eBay that lifesize golden retriever is almost 200 dollars and costs more than 50 dollars to ship. I wouldn't have gotten him if not for the thrift store and likely I'm as upset because of this stupid fucking holiday.

This is a valuable lesson.

ALWAYS get the stuffed dog.

Never leave the stuffed dog.

Fuck making yourself appear more responsible in front of people who make fun of you for buying stuffed dogs.

Those people are fucking morons. Get the damn stuffed dog.

I am way more upset about this than I probably should be but you know what? It's a culminated build up of the damn problem. I can't do anything for myself. If I don't jump on something the one chance I get it's gone forever. That's too much stress for someone like me.

Then we go to the post office and I stay in the car with ex roommate because my body is starting to tire out and he starts talking about Christmas lights and a tree and shit and asking about presents and dinner and all that and then I just fucking snap. I get triggered so fucking bad I don't even know what set it off I'm just fucking sobbing and shaking and clinging to that uncleaned stuffed dog so badly it's like I'm going to squeeze his head off and I don't know what is happening. It's dark and I'm scared and Zippy is dead and I just want to run away.

It was so fucked and I didn't know what was going on. I'm just having an all out breakdown in the car.

Now it feels like I'm going to vomit and my intestine is in knots. I cannot escape this. It just fucking is everywhere. My phone call with my psychiatrist earlier today did not help. They told me the dog night still be there and to wait for things to get better. My whole fucking life is waiting for things to get better. I'll die waiting.

Then when we get home it turns out my friend has been in withdrawal of his meds for over a week because the same issue that made it impossible to get my meds on time due to covid is happening to him and he didn't say anything and we didn't know and now he's sick and there's nothing I can do.

I wish he would have told us I wish I would have known. I would have found a way to try and help. The stupid fucking pharmacy I am so fucking mad.

I have no way to help and I'm so fucking sick and dizzy and there's nothing to do.

He doesn't want to go to the emergency because of covid but it's really bad to be off those meds.

He's blaming himself because he tried to tough it out but that's not his fault that's the fault of the neglectful upbringing he had making him think that he just has to suffer everything and what do you know that's my deal too and it upsets me because he doesn't deserve that.

I don't know what's going on. I can't tell what's going on. People are offering me food and I should be hungry but I can't eat.

My hearing is too good and my eyes hurt. I don't know if that's normal. My teeth hurt too.

I just want to shut down and have everything be normal. I want to sleep for two months and have this stupid virus and this stupid election and this stupid holiday and this stupid depression to be all over.

Fuck man. I can't lie down, I can't watch videos, I can't eat, I feel if I try to drink anything I will throw up.

I want to help my friend but there's nothing I can do because it's the stupid pharmacy again.

My spine is a rock. It's a fucking calcified lump of swollen and pain and I am shaking.

And I actually feel cold.

I wish I could give the stuffed dog a bath but my muscles are saying to go fuck myself and don't want me doing anything.

I'm afraid that if I go back to my room alone I'm going to just cry my eyes out for hours and get worse.

In case things get worse I am separating tonight's dose of my medicine and keeping everything else out of my bedroom.

I don't know if there's anything anybody here can help me feel better, but you guys are so good to me thank you.

[my-sea-of-stars]

I think, in my vast opinion, that I can’t even put into words how It feels to almost lose the person who you care most deeply about. The feeling of looking away from someone and when you look back, they’re gone. Nobody can understand the pain that sinks through you when you get the message that your girlfriend isn’t doing well. the feeling where your entire world just falls apart in front of you and the only thing you can do is watch it crumble every time your phone illuminates. The quote “unhappy that I am, I cannot heave my heart into my mouth” is the only thing that can come close to how I was feeling. It was the fact that I was literally standing in my own personal hell as I watched everything that I loved just fall apart whilst I couldn’t pick up the pieces. I felt useless. It was the fact that I spent my day watching as my phone buzzed beside me, as another message of bad news appeared on my screen. I didn’t feel like I was alive anymore and I’m pretty sure I didn’t want to be.

The thing about her that was so special was that she was my own butterfly effect. She was that simple single occurrence that no matter how small a thing she said or did, it changed the course of the universe forever..and by that, I mean my universe. It was the agitation of waiting to see if the person you loved was going to exist after that day. the most tragic thing that I have ever felt.

I’m usually a mess when it comes to my emotions but for once, I couldn’t feel anything. My brain had tried to save me from my own malicious thoughts as it began to shut down in hopes of me not believing what was happening before my own very eyes. The girl I loved the most was willing to leave me and I think that my own mind was trying to save me from that fact. I was in denial even when her best friend was pleading with me. I didn’t want to hear it and I most certainly didn’t think I could even cope with the news.

I ended up going to school the next day, even as the bad news kept coming. I decided that I’d get off school early. I wasn’t bothered with anything that I actually had to do that day because the only thing I wanted to do was see my girlfriend. that was all. I felt like I couldn’t breathe as I made my way home to grab my wallet before I headed to my Luas stop. I paced up and down on the moving tram as I tried to make sense of everything, sense of anything at all. The Luas couldn’t get there fast enough and I physically, along with mentally, just wanted to die.

Climbing off the Luas almost broke my heart as I felt like all the colour in the world around me was beginning to fade. I moved along the grey pavement as I arrived at the bookstore that I had spent most of my time in before I spotted the familiar face of my girlfriends best friend.

He looked almost devastated in a way that words can’t possibly explain. The sunken-in tired looking emotion that only someone can give you when their entire world is crumbling down, that’s the look I got. I didn’t know what I was going to hear and I was unsure if I even wanted to hear his words hit me. The fact that he spoke in a low voice but clearly was hiding something, bothered me. I didn’t want to meet up with him because I wanted to see the one girl that I loved and I had no time for some boy to tell me about the situation.

The words he used indicated that she was still alive so that eased my relief even though I felt like It wasn’t even real. I felt like everything wasn’t real anymore and I couldn’t believe that life was going to royally fuck me by taking the one person who I care inside and out about away from me made me want to vanish. We stood at the back shelf as he confirmed how he was looking for a book for my girlfriend, I was agitated beyond repair. I watched as the colourful book covers stuck out but I felt like I wasn’t even real for that moment, I was pretty sure I didn’t want to be alive in that moment.

I could smell that familiar smell that my girlfriend constantly smelt like, the musky scent that always got me. I assumed that her friend just smelt like her before I finally felt an arm wrap around me as I listened to the brief words that escaped her lips with the humorous tone in her voice. She was truly lucky that her best friend was there because I wanted to yell at her and make sure she knew how I felt but I prevented myself from doing that as I felt the hard touch of silence hit me. I couldn’t get any words out past my lips, I couldn’t voice my thoughts and I just allowed the silence to drown me.

I chatted with her friend as I was trying to keep myself under control as she tried to touch me and I refused to allow her. I could see that her guilt was beginning to hit her like a wave, pulling her under within every second. We made our way to a little tram on the squares of the city I loved as we all sat down in hopes of speaking. Before we sat down, her best friend pleaded with me not to break up with her because he knew how much I mean to her even if I couldn’t see it sometimes. I was frustrated because sometimes I wasn't’ sure if the world around me was real, I was unsure if a lot of things were real but I knew that she was real.

She was the one thing that allowed me to feel real and to feel safe so when it hit me, I couldn’t tell if any of this was real. I listened to the empty pleads even though I had made her best friend promise to take care of her because that thing about her was that she was worth caring for. She was worth a lot of things and especially worth someone being there for her at all times. I was worried sick that I was like a vase that sits on top of a wobbly table, always close to falling. I felt like every time the table wobbled I had a chance of falling and the amount of times I’ve fallen and struggled to put myself back together and one day, I was certain that I wouldn’t be able to put myself back together.

She was worth more than anything and I wish I could be worth it for her, I wish I was worth something. Sitting at the table made me feel like I was suffocating and when I heard her raise her voice at me and I shuttered a little bit inside. She went for a walk and I couldn’t believe she would of just walked off and left. We decided to follow once she got too far and we did before we lost her in the sea of people who stormed Dublin every single day. I messaged her telling her that I was ready to speak which I was because I couldn’t cope with the idea of my girlfriend being pissed at herself.

She knew I was gullible and I couldn’t help myself, I couldn’t. When I seen her once again and finally could bring myself to talk. I just felt myself falling apart as I leaned against her as I told her how I felt and I was hoping that she’d feel some sort of guilt for what she had done. We decided to go back to Chapters because it was the one place where we both always seemed to be lured to. We looked for a book that she was looking for, for such a long time. We both were frustrated but then we decided that I’d end up just writing it for her because she sure as hell deserved a book that she was looking for. We decided to get coffee together so we could sit down for a while and just ease up over everything we have been dealing with.

She sat on the opposite sides of the table as I sipped my coffee whilst my eyes kept on her. Her eyes were this luscious green that made me feel like I was safe and sound. Her eyes made me feel like everything around me could fall apart but she’d keep me safe if things went wrong. The gentle rain filled Dublin as it was soaked in the blanket of cold rain that made us refuse to sit on the benches. We made our way towards a enormous oak tree as we stood underneath it. We laughed and chuckled as she shoved me against the fence as I brushed my lips against hers in nothing but relaxation and ease.

We made our way to the pharmacy as I sang quietly to the song on the radio before we walked to the laneway of Dublin. We chuckled as we shoved each other against the wall with her lips meeting as we allowed the people to stare and gaze at us. We made our way into Argos as we went to pick up something. I loved how her eyebrows frowned as she searched for what she needed. We couldn’t help but enjoy ourselves until a young girl who was only a child began to check her out, multiple times. We both couldn’t believe it was happening but at the same time, we couldn’t help but laugh.

We decided to make our way to her bus stop but we couldn’t help but need one another in more ways than one. We snuggled up against one another as I couldn’t believe that I had the girl of my absolute dreams in front of me and I didn’t want to let her go, ever. I didn’t want her to go anywhere besides being in my arms, safe. Her fingertips tracing between my legs as I couldn’t help but feel at peace with her as I kissed her forehead lightly before I decided to wait outside the train station with her.

I didn’t want her to stray from me and when I seen her dad's car pull up, I knew she’d be safe even if she wasn’t with me. The thing I hated the most about leaving her is that I always began to feel the cold and I finally began to notice all the little things in Dublin that I usually ignored when I was with her. She was the most interesting thing in Dublin and I had to admit that I had began to hate Dublin when she wasn’t in it. She bloomed and glow every time she was here and I felt like Dublin was silenced when she left.

[sportafreddie]

Consultation hours: Chap. 1

Relationships: Joseph Christiansen/Dadsona Additional Tags: Dadsona was a soldier, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Mentioned Amputation, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Depression, Religious Content, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Identity Porn, Panic Attacks, Prosthesis, Past Character Death, Canonical Character Death Summary: “Sam (Dadsona) goes to the church's anonymous consultation hours because he is at the end of his rope. Joseph Christiansen tries to help him. In the process, he might end up helping himself too... .”

“So I, um, I’ve never done anything like this before. Still don’t see the fucking point—ah, sorry, you’re not supposed to curse in churches, right? I’m… I’m not religious, so if this service is only something actual members can use, let me know and I’ll fuc—go. This probably isn’t how you’re supposed to start. What was it? Forgive me father, for I have sinned, or something?”

A deep chuckle catches me off-guard and I curse. “I’m sorry,” the deep voice says. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

I take a few deep breaths and fiddle with the zipper of my jacket. Once I stop feeling like the walls of the box are closing in on me, I focus on the faint outline of the other person, barely visible through the wall that separates us two.

The man clears his throat. “Even though we are using the confessional box, it’s not a confession and I’m not a priest. The effort is appreciated, though.”

Something about his voice slowly makes me relax, probably how calm he sounds. I lean back in my seat, folding my hands in my lap.

“To answer your questions in the right order,” the man continues. “You’re not supposed to swear in churches, you’re right about that, but you seem nervous, so it’s understandable. And no, you do not have to be religious or a member of this church to come talk to me. I want to help everyone, Christian or not. Your religious affiliation doesn’t really matter. What matters is that you came here to talk about something and I will try my best to help you with whatever that is.” The man paused. “I totally forgot to introduce myself. My name is Joseph and I am a youth minister. Are you comfortable with giving me your name?”

I don’t reply, but he doesn’t seem to take my silence as rude.

“Rest assured that anything you say will stay between us. I may not be a priest, but I take the oath of secrecy very seriously. Now, I said before this isn’t a confession, but the rules still apply. Even if you admit to a crime, I will not tell a soul, I promise. If it would make you feel more comfortable, you can give me a wrong name or a nickname? The whole purpose of this—” He gestures to the wall between us. “—is to grant you as much anonymity as possible. It can be hard to talk to strangers, but maybe less so when they don’t know who you are. I’d simply like to have something to call you.”

I look down at my hands and think about it. Finally, after a few moments of silence, I nod. “You can call me Houdini.”

Joseph laughs lightly. “Are you a wizard?”

“Something like that.”

My tone makes Joseph stop laughing. “I didn’t mean any offense.”

“None taken.”

I can see him relax a little, but the man still sits upright, like he has a stick tied to his back or shoved up his arse. I wonder what he looks like; before hearing him speak, I thought the priest-or-whatever would be an old man, but he sounds like he could be anywhere between thirty and fifty.

“What brought you here today, Houdini?”

I can’t help myself and snort. Not because it is a stupid question, but because I find it funny how a seemingly innocent question could be so loaded. I look back down at my hands and clutch a fist, just to feel my muscles tense under my skin.

“I don’t know, honestly,” I say after a while. Joseph doesn’t press me to continue or asks me why I am here, then, just lets me sort my thoughts and bring them into an order that somewhat resembles coherence. “Someone suggested I go see a professional, pay some prig with two doctorates and a cosy little office to listen to my problems and blame everything on my daddy issues, but there’s no way in hell— Can I say that?”

“Go ahead. I won’t judge you for what you say.”

I nod and run a hand through my hair. It’s getting too long again. I know I should go to a barber, but the mere thought makes me feel sick. Belatedly, I realise I’ve gripped my hair hard enough to hurt. I lower my hand and try not to think of Joseph watching my every move.

“I… um… I don’t like talking about… stuff. I don’t see the fucking point. You sit there, pour out your heart, and that’s supposed to make you feel better?”

“Yes.”

“You’re being paid to say that. Your opinion doesn’t count.”

Joseph makes a noise that sounds like when someone tries not to laugh and ends up snorting, but stifles that sound by covering their mouth and nose. I risk a glance to the side and see him lower his hand again. “Actually, I’m not being paid for this.” That makes me frown. “I’m doing this in my free time.”

“Don’t you have anything better to do? No wife and kids to go home to?”

His chair creaks as he shifts. “Ah. Yes. But…” I can tell he is uncomfortable, even though he tries his best to hide it. Maybe, had I seen his face, I would have fallen for it, but all I have is his voice and it sounds off, strained.

Well-done, asshole.

I open my mouth to apologise or continue where I left off while ignoring my comment, but he speaks up before I can get a word out. “Whenever we bottle up our feelings and refuse to let them happen to us, we make things worse. At one point, we cannot continue burying them somewhere at the back of our mind because there is no space left and they all come out at once, a metaphorical dam that breaks. By talking about what we are feeling, we allow our emotions to come and go again. It is like a wave.”

He actually makes a wave motion with his hand as he says this. I can’t tell whether I should find it adorable or disturbing and choose to settle for the neutral interesting.

“So, yes, pouring your heart out indeed does help. That’s what you came for, isn’t it? To talk to someone. So, somewhere inside you, you must believe it might help you with whatever you are going through.”

What Joseph just said makes sense, but that only makes me want to find a counterargument even more.

‘We never get angry just because. Anger always is a follow-up reaction, never the first. You argue because you don’t want to deal with what you really feel. You butt heads with people because you want to distract them from what’s going on in your head. You don’t know how to deal with the situation, so you default to anger. But behind that anger there lies something else…’ I jerk and shake my head to push that memory back into the dark corner it came from.

“Why did you come here, Houdini?”

That's the one-billion-dollar question, isn’t it?

I sigh in frustration and clutch a fist, feeling my blunt nails dig into my skin. The not-quite-pain helps me focus. I take a deep breath and tuck loose strands of hair behind my ear. “I came here,” I begin, “because it’s the last thing I can think of. I tried self-help books, even bought some guide by an apparently very famous guy, but the tips were complete bullshit. I scrolled through online forums but reading about how other people managed to get their lives under control again just made me feel shittier, because if they did it, why can’t I? I drank the most disgusting tea I had ever tasted in my life because it was advertised as the best herbal sleeping aid on the market and I’m not allowed to mix the good stuff with my medication, not even the over-the-counter shit you can buy from every in-store pharmacy in the whole country. So, this is, basically, the last idea I have because I’d rather cut off another limb than go to a psychologist.”

I only realise what I just said when Joseph carefully repeats “Cut off another limb?”

I tense up again and my breath audibly hitches. I don’t see Joseph turn to look at me as much as I feel his gaze tear through the wall separating us and even though I don’t know this man, I can tell he is itching to get up and comfort me physically, but he doesn’t. He shifts on his chair. “Repeat after me: 4, 9, 2, 10, 5, 18. Can you do that, Houdini? 4, 9, 2, 10, 5, 18.”

I literally cannot breathe and Joseph wants me to count? Clawing at my throat to get air through the knot there that makes me choke, I stutter out the first three numbers, then pause and work my brain trying to remember the rest of them. By the time I say 18, my breathing has stabilised again and my vision has cleared. I blink away the last remnants of the panic attack and rub my throat. “What the-“

“The brain cannot focus on panicking and counting numbers out of order at the same time,” Joseph explains quietly. “At least, that’s what I’ve heard. All I know for certain is that most of the time it works. Are you feeling any better? I can get you something to drink if you want.” I shake my head. “I’m not going to make you tell me something you don’t want. But what you said… Are you purposely hurting yourself, Houdini?”

He sounds so concerned about a random stranger’s well-being, so worried about a man he doesn’t know, just being in his proximity makes me feel like an even shittier person. I shake my head again. “I’m not… hurting myself. Not on purpose. I didn’t…” I make a cutting motion with my hand, since actually saying it is more than I can handle at the moment. “The… the doctors… you know. Surgery.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, Houdini.” And he actually sounds sincere about it. How can a person be this compassionate?! “As I said, you don’t have to tell me about it, unless it is important as to why you came here. Can you tell me what it is you are dealing with? There are thousands of guides out there and only half of them, if not less, are actually written by professionals. You don’t have to feel bad about not having found a method that works for you yet. Everyone is different and so are their problems and needs.”

“Are you sure you’re not a psychologist?”

Joseph laughs. “No, I swear. I’m not a—How did you put it? –prig with two doctorates and a cosy little office.” I can’t help but smile lightly at that. “Before you ask, I also didn’t take psychology in college. I have a Bachelor in Pastoral Ministry from the South Florida Bible College and Seminary.”

“Florida,” I repeat. “What brought you to Maple Bay of all places?”

“A fresh start, so to say. I was offered a job with the church. My wife and I fell in love with the neighbourhood and ocean view and so we settled down.” I can that was a very abridged version of the truth, but don’t pry. “Where are you from, originally?”

In any other situation, I might have taken offense at his words. But he cannot see me, doesn’t know the colour of my skin nor my name, so no, it can’t be that. “New York area.”

“Why did you come here?”

I shrug. “I got a scholarship to the college here. After I graduated, I… um… travelled, for a while. My husband and I actually met during college, he was from around here, and we just… stayed.”

Joseph is silent for a while before he speaks again. “Your husband…?”

The thought hits me so hard I almost physically flinch. “Fuck. You’re not homophobic, are you? I don’t want to presume, just because you’re religious, but if you are I’m—“

“Woah, woah, Houdini, I’m not homophobic!” My mouth clicks shut. Joseph turns to ‘look’ at me and shakes his head. “There is nothing wrong with being gay, bisexual, pansexual or any other sexual or romantic orientation. The man loves all of his children. Except snitches.”

I pause, uncertain whether the last part was serious or not. Only when Joseph chuckles I realise he was joking and I feel myself crack a smile again. He seems pretty chill for a religious guy. “Okay.” I clear my throat to bridge the time it takes my brain to come up with something better to say. “Cool.”

Not better. Possibly worse. Cool is uncool already, do keep up.

 “What I meant with that question…” His voice softens. “Is your husband…” He makes some kind of gesture. It takes me a few moments to realise what he means.

“Dead? Yeah, he died a few years ago. But it’s okay.”

It’s not.

“Still, I’m sorry for your loss.”

Can he stop sounding so sincere? Just hearing him be so compassionate and caring makes me feel bad just by being in his proximity. Couldn’t the church have hired a counsellor that didn’t make their customers shitty in comparison? It’s not like I didn’t already know I was fucked up, I didn’t need the perfect to show me that.

Neither of us speaks for what feels like hours, but realistically the silence only lasts for a few seconds before Joseph breaks it. “Since you said it’s okay, I assume you’re not here because of him. Do you want to tell me?”

I pinch the bridge of my nose and sigh deeply. I came here on a whim; I didn’t prepare some kind of speech or even stop to gather my thoughts and try to shape them into actual words before I drove to the church and walked in. I’m completely unprepared and I hate every second of it.

“There are days when I wake up and hate the fact I did.” Even I’m surprised by those words. “Sometimes I don’t have the energy to get up, not for food, not for the loo, not for my kid. Other days, the tiniest noise sets me off, and I feel like I’m right in the middle of a warzone. There are days I swear I can still feel my leg, even though I know it’s not there yet, they cut it off, they had to, but I still look down and pull up my trousers and see there is nothing there and that upsets me. I constantly feel like a ticking time bomb, like any second, I’m going to explode. I spent the time between panic attacks waiting for the next one to happen. Sometimes, I can’t sleep for days. Sometimes I get so irrationally angry I yell at anyone who tries to talk to me, even my own fucking child, and sometimes I stare into the mirror and hate myself so much I just…”

I ran my hand through my hair, gripping it tightly. The pain helps me focus. “I know you’re not supposed to bottle things up. They told us that message a thousand times. We’ve got professionals on site to help you, you can tell them anything, yet anyone who actually took advantage of that was seen as weak and they talked about you behind your back, made bets on how long you’d last. But I have to stay strong, for my daughter. She doesn’t know half of what I just told you. I don’t want to make life even more difficult for her. She’s strong, she dealt with losing her father far better than I have, let’s be honest, but she shouldn’t have to carry that burden. So I…” I take a shuddered breath. “I do my best to bury everything underneath layers upon layers of silly jokes and awkwardness. Before… I used to be like that, a long time ago, so I just have to remember how things had been back then and I can pass as a semi-functional quirky human being. No one knows. Well, now you do.”

Joseph exhales loudly. There is a certain tenseness to his voice as he finally speaks that makes me wonder. “That sounds terrible. I’m sorry you have to go through something like that, Houdini. You said you haven’t been to a doctor or psychologist at all?” I nod. “I would urge you to go see a professional, Houdini, because what you just described sounds very serious. Now, you mentioned ‘they’ and ‘us’. What is it that you do, or did, for a living?”

“I’m a translator. Before that I was a, well, I was in the military, after college. Part of the Reserve Officer Training Corps. They paid for my education, I served time after I graduated.”

“Were you…” Joseph trails off and I can practically hear the cogs and wheels turn in his head. “Were you ever actually deployed?”

“Yeah.”

“And did you lose— “

“Yeah.”

Next to me, behind the semi-transparent wall that lets me see the faint outlines of his body, Joseph rubs the back of his head. “Gosh, Houdini, you really deal with a lot of fudge-crab you had to endure.”

I snort. “Fudge-crab?”

“You have four children, you learn to get creative. I made it a habit not to swear even when they aren’t around, so I don’t accidentally do it when they are.”

For a moment I wonder whether I misheard him. “Four? You have four children? Who in their right mind gets more than twooooo… I mean—“

Joseph laughs. “Don’t worry about it, Houdini. I’m not offended. Four children are really quite a handful but I wouldn’t want to have any of them gone.”

“So did you have quadruplets or…?”

I see Joseph shake his head. “We have twins, but the other two were born alone. My eldest, Chris, is eleven. Christie and Christian, our twins, turn eight later this year and last but not least, there is Crish, he just turned two.”

I really try not to comment on the choice of names, but my brain short-circuits and my mouth moves before my brain can catch up. “You named your children after variations of Christ?”

“Crish’s name was my wife’s idea. To this day I’m still not quite convinced she wasn’t joking but I liked the sound of it. What is the name of your child?”

“Telling you would defeat the purpose of anonymity.”

Joseph titled his head in acknowledgment. “True. How about we call her Christiann?”

That startles a laugh out of me. I can’t help but giggle, imagining my daughter’s reaction once I get home and tell her what her new name is. “Why not Chrissie?”

“I have a long list of Christ-related names at home, Houdini. Anything from Christa to Chrys. If I were you, I wouldn’t challenge me to a silly name contest.”

“Oh god.” I snort with laughter. “Please, spare me, I surrender. I’m waving the metaphorical white flag.”

Joseph laughs with me. I can’t remember the last time I genuinely laughed like that, to the point of my chest starting to hurt. I want to say something to continue the easy barter between us, but the vibration of my phone against my thigh and the music I selected for incoming messages playing ruin the moment. I look down and fish it out, frowning at the screen. “Shit. I have to go. Um, thank you for listening to me vomit up words, Joseph, I… yeah, I appreciate it.”

“You know you can always come here whenever you need someone to talk to. My hours are posted at the blackboard outside of the building, right next to the door. I hope you’ll feel a bit better. What you did today is an important step towards getting better. You admitted to yourself you have a problem and you sought out help.”

I look down at my hands, then at the door. Should I just go? Or should I wait until he has left? What if we both exit at the same time and he ends up seeing me?

Either I thought out loud, again, or Joseph could anticipate my question. “I will stay in here until you have left. I promise, I won’t peek, I won’t jump out and go back on my word. I hope to see, well, hear you again, Houdini.”

Awkwardly, I nod, then I push open the door. I wait for the sound of Joseph standing up and pushing open his, but the youth minister is silent and doesn’t seem to move, so I walk out of the box and down the aisle towards the door.

I don’t slow down until I reach my car.

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

The ringing of the doorbell pulled me out of my thoughts. Groggily I lift my head and contemplate whether I should go answer it or not, but I could hear Amanda’s footsteps and, knowing she’s got it, buried my face in the pillow again.

It was a male voice, that much I was able to tell through the closed door, but I couldn’t hear what the person was saying. I caught the word ‘cookies’ and frowned, but didn’t think any more of it until the door to my room burst open and Amanda was standing there, a plate with cookies in one hand, a flyer in the other.

“Who was that?” I asked her, trying to muster enough energy to sit up.

Amanda shoved a cookie into her mouth and grinned. “One of our neighbours. He brought us cookies. They’re okay, if a bit too sweet.”

“What did he want?”

“He just wanted to say hello and introduce himself. He actually asked if the parents are home, I told him parent, singular, and he got all flustered. But I said you weren’t home. Didn’t think you wanted to deal with anyone right now.”

She sat down on my bed and I pulled her close, wrapping my arm around her shoulders. “Thank you, panda,” I said quietly.

She offered me a cookie and I gratefully accepted it. It was the first solid thing I had consumed in the last two days.

“And what is that?” I pointed at the flyer.

“Oh, that.” Amanda handed it over. “Apparently the neighbours here like to barbeque. We’re invited. All the families in the cul-de-sac will show up, he said, a perfect opportunity for getting to know everyone.”

She looked at me expectantly, the worry clear and visible in her eyes. I kissed her temple and smiled when she wrinkled her nose in mock-disgust.

“We’ll see, dear. Now give me more cookies.”

I put the flyer aside on my bedside table.

Hours later, when I returned to my bedroom, I found myself looking at the paper again.

I didn’t go to the barbeque.

[weljbf38-blog]

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