#and i was seriously considering on calling myself an ambulance

[stargayzerlily03]

♡♡♡

Shoutout to selfshippers with IBS! Your f/o would never think of your stomach problems as "embarassing" or "gross" and they would never tell you to hurry up or complain "really again?" when you're having an IBS attack. They would offer comforting words and water to drink for the dehydration after that and perhaps a cup of green tea to soothe your stomach and they would understand if you need to lay down for a while after an unusually bad episode. They would totally understand why you can't eat certain foods due to your stomach reacting badly and they would gladly let you pick the restaurant that has all your safe foods in the menu.

♡♡♡

[the-badger-mole]

AU Bot Plots: Across a Crowded Emergency Room

Katara's leg bounced up and down in agitation. She blew air out through her clenched teeth and glanced at the clock. As popular as Aang was, she couldn't figure out why she was still his emergency contact, seven months after they broke up, but when she got the call, she didn't have the heart to ignore it. A compassionate choice she was beginning to regret as the clock marked the end of her fourth hour sitting in the emergency room. A nurse walked out from the triage room and looked down at her clipboard. Katara leaned forward, anxious to hear Aang's name called.

"Sosoro," the nurse called. "Sosoro, Jun." Katara slumped back in her seat with a groan as a woman with her arm clumsily wrapped in a bloody bath towel sauntered forward.

"Sorry," Aang said, looking at her shamefacedly. Well, as much as he could look at her with his neck in a brace.

"Aren't they supposed to take head and neck injuries more seriously?" Katara grumbled.

"Well...I guess since I wasn't unconscious this time they don't consider it an emergency, emergency," Aang suggested with a shrug. "And the brace is more of a precaution, since I can move my neck."

"Then why am I here?" Katara asked. "Why did you have them call me?"

"I didn't want to ride in the ambulance," Aang explained sheepishly. "My insurance wouldn't cover it."

"Okay, fine," Katara huffed. "But you're here now. You don't need me anymore, right?" Aang looked stricken, and fixed her with the kicked puppy look that used to make it impossible for her to tell him no, even when she really wanted to.

"You'd leave me here all by myself?" he asked, sounding on the verge of tears. "You know I hate hospitals. And how will I get home? It's too late to call someone else!"

"I will pay for a cab," Katara promised. "It's late, and I'm tired and I have a test to study for."

"But I don't want to sit here alone," Aang insisted. "Please, Katara? I know we're not dating anymore, but you're still one of my closest friends. Please don't leave me." Katara was torn between aggravation and pity. For a moment, she thought the aggravation would win out, but then Aang always did have a gift for tugging just the right string.

"If they don't call you back in an hour, you're on your own," she muttered, crossing her arms. Aang beamed at her. This was her own fault, Katara reflected, as she rubbed her tired eyes. She was old enough to know better than to stay friends with her exes.

A commotion at the entrance of the hospital pulled Katara out of her doze. Two men, one younger, one older, stumbled in, clinging to each other. At first, Katara thought they were there for the younger guy. There was a large, angry looking burn on his face, but a moment later, Katara saw the older man's puffy face. His eyes were nearly swollen shut, and his lips were several times larger than they should've ben. The burn on the younger man's face was scarred over, and several years old, Katara guessed. At any rate, it didn't seem to be giving him any discomfort at the moment. He and the older man stumbled up towards the reception area, where already, the nurses were scrambling to help them.

"I'm fine, Nephew," the older man said through his swollen lips. "My throat hasn't closed."

"You're not fine," the young man, Nephew, snapped. "You look like you tried to beat someone with your face. I told you to stop trying to brew tea from random plants you found in the park."

"The white jade and the white dragon flowers look so similar!" the old man lamented. Nephew threw his arms out to his sides and let his head roll backwards, as if he was silently pleading with some higher being for patience. Then he helped his uncle into the wheelchair an orderly had brought for him. After hearing how gruff he'd been with the old man, Katara was surprised to see how gentle Nephew was with him.

Of course the old man was rushed back immediately. Katara wasn't annoyed at that. It was clearly an emergency, even if he insisted that his throat wasn't closing. Nephew started to follow the team back, but was barred by a nurse.

"You'll have to wait here," she said sternly.

"What? That's my uncle! Why can't I go back with him?" Nephew sounded angry. Looked it too, but the nurse was unmoved. He would have to sit in the waiting area until the doctor's exam was over. Nephew seemed to be ready to fight some more, but the nurse just turned and walked back into the triage area. Nephew accepted his defeat gracelessly and flopped down on a chair across from Katara and Aang. The door opened again, and Nephew looked up anxiously, as if expecting someone to let him back with his uncle after all. Instead the nurse looked down at her clipboard.

"Namkha," she called. "Namkha, Aang."

"That's me!" Aang announced, jumping to his feet. Katara noticed the spring in his step with annoyance. If she'd sat in this emergency room for nearly five hours for nothing to be wrong with him...

Katara sighed and settled back into her seat. There was no use dwelling on it now. She just had to get through this bizarre night, and then she can tell Aang she needed a break from their friendship. Someone else could take over saving him from his own shenanigans. And this time, she would stick to her guns, puppy eyes or no.

Across from her, Nephew gazed aimlessly around the waiting room. He was chewing gum, and popping it occasionally, which is what drew Katara's eye to him. He was handsome, she thought, detachedly. The scar didn't detract at all from his chiseled jawline, or his full lips, now busy blowing another bubble. He was wearing a dark colored jacket that hid his arms and chest, but the squareness of his shoulders suggested someone who knew his way around the gym. He didn't seem to be much older than Katara, either. Maybe a year or two, if that. The bubble he had been working on popped and he saw Katara staring. He raised a brow, but Katara was too tired to be embarrassed. She gestured vaguely towards his mouth.

"Did you bring enough to share?" she asked. Nephew sat for a moment, seeming to size Katara up. Finally, he reached into his jacket pocket and passed her a crumpled packet of gum. There was only one stick left inside of it. Katara was about to protest taking his last piece, but he just held his hand up.

"It's fine," he said. "Help yourself." Katara accepted it with a thanks.

"Was he alright?" Katara asked, hooking her thumb towards the triage doors. Nephew sighed and rolled his eyes, but he looked at the doors with more than a hint of worry.

"My uncle is obsessed with tea," he told Katara. "He likes to forage in the park because, according to him there are a lot of edible plants that make great tea."

"He picked the wrong one, this time?" Katara concluded. She shook her head sympathetically.

"I'll say," Nephew snorted. "He's just lucky I was working tonight."

"Working?" Katara asked.

"He owns a tea shop," Nephew said, with a half shrug. "I help out sometimes, and tonight I had the closing shift."

"That's nice." Katara wasn't sure what else to say, but that seemed to be the right thing. Nephew shrugged again.

"It's easy work, anyway," he said. "He let's me work around my school schedule." Katara nodded. That was interesting information. There were only two schools in the area, so they might go to the same one. Katara wondered if their paths had ever crossed before. But she thought she might have remembered meeting him.

"What's your boyfriend in for?" Nephew asked.

"He's not my boyfriend," Katara said firmly. "And he's in because he can't stop himself sometimes. There was nest of abandoned owlets in a tree on campus, and he climbed up to try to rescue them. Only, mama owl came back and knocked him out of the tree."

"Ouch!" Nephew winced. "Is he okay?"

"Fine enough that the doctor kept us waiting here for four and a half hours," Katara huffed.

"Yikes." Nephew shook his head. "You must be exhausted."

"Like you wouldn't believe," Katara groaned. "And I have a test tomorrow. All I want is some coffee." Nephew gestured towards the other end of the waiting room.

"There's a kiosk in the main lobby," he said. "They're probably still open." Katara groaned miserably.

"I was in a rush to get my friend here," she explained. "I left my wallet at home." Nephew shifted in his seat and cleared his throat. He seemed nervous.

"Well...I could go for some coffee myself," he said. "I've got my wallet on me. I could treat you." Katara hesitated. Nephew's shoulders had bunched up to at his ears and his dark hair fell into his eyes. It was cute, Katara thought, how self-conscious he was. He must have women throwing themselves at him, but buying one coffee at a kiosk had him blushing. Finally, Katara smiled and nodded.

"That sounds great," she said. "Thank you so much!"

"No problem," Nephew mumbled. He was smiling slightly, though.

"I'm Katara by the way." She grinned at him. "I figure you ought to know my name if you're buying me coffee." Nephew shot her a half-smile. Already, she found it endearing.

"Zuko," he introduced himself.

[lover-of-mine]

Anna! Hi! Hello!

I literally just joined tumblr today to be able to anon ask you. I think I should be the anxiety anon (aa is for sure in honor of Capt. Dad Bobby Nash and not in bad taste) because even typing this makes me feel way too seen. Does this count as human interaction? Guys, is it gay social anxiety if you only have inside thoughts because the idea of having outside thoughts makes you unwell? I'm not shaking--no, check--I am totally shaking rn, which is making it hard to type. But, I feel like I have reached critical mass on my Buddie thoughts and I will explode if I can't share them.

It is probably very rude to bust through the wall of your house like the Kool-Aid Man, so I want to say that I love your voice--your characterization and dialogue, particularly how you use humor in your fics is just *chef's kiss* for me. I have read them all but can't anon comment. I love your color theory and costume meta, too. Your takes are so measured and thoughtful and honestly just logical in a time where 9-1-1blr feels kinda sorta unmoored in reality. Fuck Twitter, your spy network tag is now my news feed because fandom reading comprehension and critical thinking scores have plummeted recently. Lou Who knows why?

Some things that are making me laugh/cry/cry-laugh rn:

The cockfighting ring call in Bobby Begins Again (2x16). Let's talk about closet space, bro: he-who-must-not-be-named canonically full-body flinched at literal cock coming at him. Somehow this is his gayest canon moment to me even though he has 2 canon full-on face assault man-on-man kisses.

The bridge call finale in Season 6, which I haven't watched in a minute, so I welcome fact-checking. I can't recall if it happens at the end of Love Is in the Air (6x17) as a cliff-hanger or if it is in Pay It Forward (6x18) proper, but right before the truck hits the bridge and triggers the collapse, Bobby is on the medical call on the bridge and he verbally instructs "K*nnard" to do something. The extra, presumably 1 of the old man retired firefighters they use to fill-out the 118 ranks, is wearing the "K*nnard" turnouts that nobody needed since 2x16's very accurate "Fairwell T*mmy. The 217's Loss is Our Gain" cake. So, how's that for invisible string debunker costume meta. As of 6x18: K*nnard was literally just an unused turnout coat on a hook in the costume dept. "Who cares?!?" is the 118 and 9-1-1's motto, fr. Like, nobody remembers gaf that he's a pilot, too, in an episode where Lucy flies off in the air ambulance, never to be seen again. Is "becoming a pilot" 9-1-1's way of telling your kid the dog "went to the farm" when you really had it put down while they were at school?

My change.org petition is for Buck and Eddie to have OS and RG's tattoos. I know makeup has been covering them up for years, but it has been bothering me so much since the ABC switch. It's like they're using the same tone of cover-up for RG and OS and it reads so yellow-orange that I consider it color theory outlier. Like, real talk, what do yellow-orange arms mean for the data, Anna? Tattoo-having people are known to get more tattoos. This is normal. RG and OS have so many more tattoos now than in Season 2 that Season 7 and 8 Buck and Eddie look like they have skin conditions that stop at their watch-straps and somehow in Season 8 RG is getting forehead-only orange foundation? Listen, I consider myself fandom-standard unhinged, not completely deranged, but like the full body Ken-doll spray tan on OS in Masks (8x05) has pushed me over the edge.

My Ted Talk is titled "Hey, ABC: Buddie = Fiscal Responsibility" because, wtf, just stop paying superfluous guest actors to be love interests and let the 2 mains shack up like God T*m M*near intended. (I lowkey think that smart cookie JLH is a girlboss genius who tied herself to KC, yeah yeah because of chemistry, Madney forever, of course, but also as job security when she said that Chimney was what she wanted for Maddie.) Seriously, let's reallocate the bullshit love interest slush fund money and bring the kid home. I hardcore head canon that Ravi saw Gerrard from the buffet line at the medal ceremony and just noped the fuck out of there indefinitely.

I'm just gonna leave this all here and back away because I've maxed out on all the human/social interaction accepted fandom love language of hyperbolic ranting that I can partake in before I turn into a full-blown thunderstorm chihuahua.

Can someone please Uber me a clown car home?

My love, hi. This was so fucking great to read ksoskaoakoakaoaa I'm literally on the floor laughing. Thank you for the compliments on the fics and metas. When someone says they like my characterization, I ascend to a better plane of existence. Honestly, the cock fight calls is really something else kspskapakoaa and they just didn't bother checking if they had written someone off before using the turnout because they needed more people there I guess.

The tattoos one had me howling tho, the cover-up of Ryan's hand tattoo this season has been AWFUL and the fact that they just wax Oliver all over to cover him in orange foundation drives me nuts, like please, just let them have the tattoos. (I was actually informed that they would need to license the tattoo from the artist for every use of it depending on the tattoos they decide to keep and that's probably why don't let them keep them, but if we are not letting them keep them, please color match better).

Honestly, they just need to get together already, please end this madness, it's been long enough, let Ryan be paid to make out with Oliver like he's been wanting all along kspskspakaokapa

Anyway, I'm obsessed with you, thank you for this one 🫶🫶

[beckitty]

I had an IUD put in to manage my endometriosis. I was told, like others, it would be a "little pinch" and to have some paracetamol before going to the appointment to cover "discomfort". I also had a hysteroscopy and biopsy done at the same time.

The hysteroscopy was fine, more uncomfortable than painful. The biopsy hurt, but I figured cutting part of my uterus away probably should, and brushed it of. The IUD insertion was a nightmare though. The doc went in with no anesthetic, and couldn't get my cervix open. Apparently I have scarring on it. So they decide to inject anasthetic into the cervix.

You know when you go to the dentist, and they have to inject anaesthesia into your gum, and it always hurts? Yeah, imagine that on an already hurting cervix.

After a few minute they decide I'm probably numb enough, and start trying again. It takes over half an hour and multiple attempts with an increasing amount of equipment for them to finally get the fucker in. All the time I'm breathing through the pain, reminding myself that it's not that bad, women have these done all the time. Then I get left to clean myself up and get dressed, and get to sit in a waiting room to recover until I'm ready to go.

It hurt, but I coped right? I was warned I might have some pain that could be managed with paracetamol and ibuprofen afterwards. Jokes on me, my pain got worse, and worse, and worse. Keep in mind I was on the 7th month of a period at that point, so if I had any bleeding or discharge from the surgery I couldn't tell.

I was told I could call the ward for help if I had a problem, so I did. They told me repeatedly that pain after this was normal, I was fine. I tried for 3 weeks to cope, until I collapsed, sobbing in pain in the middle of a nursing lecture.

The advantage of collapsing where I did was having access to nurses who specialised in women's health and pain management there, who were on the verge of calling me an ambulance, despite the fact that the medical school is very literally a 5 minute walk away from the women's hospital, and that's if you walk slow and don't take the shortcuts. I called the ward again, while one of my lecturers, a women's health specialist, stayed with me. The ward repeated that "some pain is normal", and my lecturer heard, and saw red. She got the name of the nurse on the ward, and ended the call. She helped me arrange an emergency appointment with my gp, since she doubted I would get the care I needed on that ward, and she later put in a complaint to the hospital and the NMC about the nurse in question.

I get to my gp, who gives me an extremely gentle pelvic exam. It still hurts like a motherfucker, but she tried. She told me she couldn't see my cervix properly as there was too much swelling in the area, and that might explain the fever I was running too. Yep, I had a massive infection, and if I hadn't had the gp take me seriously I would probably have missed it. I was in agony from a raging infection, but my pain was dismissed as normal and not worth worrying about.

The very worst thing about my story is I didn't need to say it. It's not new, it's not unusual, it's a common experience with a few personal details.

Also, this is from a Cochrane review of local anesthesia for uterine interventions from 2013:

We found that no technique provided reliable pain control in the 26 included studies. Some studies reported that women experienced severe pain (mean scores of 7 to 9 out of 10) during uterine intervention, irrespective of the analgesic technique used. ... We suggest that woman are likely to consider the rates and severity of pain during uterine interventions when performed awake to be unacceptable in the absence of neuraxial blockade

I hate how womens pain is dismissed as irrelevant or exaggerated, and how this is tied into sexual and gynacological care. And I'm so fucking glad I've found a doctor who actually listens and believes me, and is willing to give me a hysterectomy so I can opt out of this cycle of pain and bullshittery.

so one of the things that's so horrifying about birth control is that you have to, like, navigate this incredibly personal choice about your body and yet also face the epitome of misogyny. like, someone in the comments will say it wasn't that bad for me, and you'll be utterly silenced. like, everyone treats birth control like something that's super dirty. like, you have no fucking information or control over this thing because certain powerful people find it icky.

first it was the oral contraceptives. you went on those young, mostly for reasons unrelated to birth control - even your dermatologist suggested them to control your acne. the list of side effects was longer than your arm, and you just stared at it, horrified.

it made you so mentally ill, but you just heard that this was adulthood. that, yes, there are of course side effects, what did you expect. one day you looked up yasmin makes me depressed because surely this was far too intense, and you discovered that over 12,000 lawsuits had been successfully filed against the brand. it remains commonly prescribed on the open market. you switched brands a few times before oral contraceptives stopped being in any way effective. your doctor just, like, shrugged and said you could try a different brand again.

and the thing is that you're a feminist. you know from your own experience that birth control can be lifesaving, and that even when used for birth control - it is necessary healthcare. you have seen it save so many people from such bad situations, yourself included. it is critical that any person has access to birth control, and you would never suggest that we just get rid of all of it.

you were a little skeeved out by the implant (heard too many bad stories about it) and figured - okay, iud. it was some of the worst pain you've ever fucking experienced, and you did it with a small number of tylenol in your system (3), like you were getting your bikini line waxed instead of something practically sewn into your body.

and what's wild is that because sometimes it isn't a painful insertion process, it is vanishingly rare to find a doctor that will actually numb the area. while your doctor was talking to you about which brand to choose, you were thinking about the other ways you've been injured in your life. you thought about how you had a suspicious mole frozen off - something so small and easy - and how they'd numbed a huge area. you thought about when you broke your wrist and didn't actually notice, because you'd thought it was a sprain.

your understanding of pain is that how the human body responds to injury doesn't always relate to the actual pain tolerance of the person - it's more about how lucky that person is physically. maybe they broke it in a perfect way. maybe they happened to get hurt in a place without a lot of nerve endings. some people can handle a broken femur but crumble under a sore tooth. there's no true way to predict how "much" something actually hurts.

in no other situation would it be appropriate for doctors to ignore pain. just because someone can break their wrist and not feel it doesn't mean no one should receive pain meds for a broken wrist. it just means that particular person was lucky about it. it should not define treatment.

in the comments of videos about IUDs, literally thousands of people report agony. blinding, nauseating, soul-crushing agony. they say things like i had 2 kids and this was the worst thing i ever experienced or i literally have a tattoo on my ribs and it felt like a tickle. this thing almost killed me or would rather run into traffic than ever feel that again.

so it's either true that every single person who reports severe pain is exaggerating. or it's true that it's far more likely you will experience pain, rather than "just a pinch." and yet - there's nothing fucking been done about it. it kind of feels like a shrug is layered on top of everything - since technically it's elective, isn't it kind of your fault for agreeing to select it? stop being fearmongering. stop being defensive.

you fucking needed yours. you are almost weirdly protective of it. yours was so important for your physical and mental health. it helped you off hormonal birth control and even started helping some of your symptoms. it still fucking hurt for no fucking reason.

once while recovering from surgery, they offered you like 15 days of vicodin. you only took 2 of them. you've been offered oxy for tonsillitis. you turned down opioids while recovering from your wisdom tooth extraction. everything else has the option. you fucking drove yourself home after it, shocked and quietly weeping, feeling like something very bad had just happened. the nurse that held your hand during the experience looked down at you, tears in her eyes, and said - i know. this is cruelty in action.

and it's fucked up because the conversation is never just "hey, so the way we are doing this is fucking barbaric and doctors should be required to offer serious pain meds" - it's usually something around the lines of "well, it didn't kill you, did it?"

you just found out that removing that little bitch will hurt just as bad. a little pinch like how oral contraceptives have "some" serious symptoms. like your life and pain are expendable or not really important. like maybe we are all hysterical about it?

hysteria comes from the latin word for uterus, which is great!

you stand here at a crossroads. like - this thing is so important. did they really have to make it so fucking dangerous. and why is it that if you make a complaint, you're told - i didn't even want you to have this in the first place. we're told be careful what you wish for. we're told that it's our fault for wanting something so illict; we could simply choose not to need medication. that maybe if we don't like the scraps, we should get ready to starve.

we have been saying for so long - "i'm not asking you to remove the option, i'm asking you to reconsider the risk." this entire time we hear: well, this is what you wanted, isn't it?

[chateautae]

— important announcement [♡]

tw: personal letter from me, chronic heart condition, surgery, death, trauma, anxiety and vulnerability 

hi everyone, I’m pretty sure the warnings on this post clue you into what I’ll be saying under the cut, and it was hard for me to write this, it took me days but this is a crucial announcement i need to make about myself. 

i’ll be taking an official three week break starting today due to health concerns I’ll detail further below. this post will also mention the importance of university starting up again, and as I enter my third year and seriously consider future endeavours such as law school and moving to the big city, writing will have to be something I keep on the back burner. don’t worry, I won’t disappear entirely but my updating will slow down again, hopefully you can be patient with me and still stick around for what I have in store <3

thank you to whoever’s clicked on read more and is now reading this; seriously, if you make it through this post i’m extremely grateful for you, because these are things i’ve never spoken about to anyone and i’m glad you’re listening.

i’m not exactly sure where to begin; it’s not everyday i speak about my heart condition. i’m sure almost none of you reading this even knew i had one. i only share this with people very close to me in case of emergencies, and otherwise keep my mouth shut about it. to be frank, i never speak about it out of embarrassment, not since i was diagnosed at the age of 4 and collapsed at a party, unable to breathe. it’s almost sad that’s the earliest memory i can ever recall, that agonizing pain in my chest and the way my mom cradled me in her arms as a paramedic checked my vitals. not since I was told that my heart was special just like me, that i was born with an extra valve that pumps a little too much electricity to my heart, and causes it to beat very fast and erratically (my highest recorded bpm is 250). not since i was told i have a condition called supraventricular tachycardia, or svt. it’s not the most life-threatening arrhythmia, which I thank god everyday for, but it has still been something that’s plagued me for 16 years. i’ve taken medication and suffered all their wonderful side effects for those years, been in and out of hospitals ever since i was 4, had enough holter monitors strapped to me to make a fortune, had loads of cardiologists, surgeons, x-rays, i.v’s, ecg’s, ultrasounds, blood work; you name it. i’ve hated it all; ever since I had to constantly deal with the pounding in my chest whenever my heart went fast and i’d collapse in gym class, or would get whisked away in an ambulance in front of the entire school, or felt so embarrassed by my condition that i’d wait the entire 45 minutes with an active attack as my amazing dad drove all the way from his workplace to pick me up and take me to a hospital. 

this condition limited my ability to exert myself in any way. i couldn’t get too excited, too nervous or perform many physical activities like running. even when i did, it had to be modified or i would be extremely slow compared to everyone else, constantly managing my breathing to ensure i didn’t slip into an attack. thankfully it wasn’t often, but sometimes i even got made fun of for not being able to run like a normal kid, and i hated it. i hated being different and just not being able to do things like the others. i hated that i was born this way without any control over it, and it only became worse by the time i was old enough to experience anxiety, and my condition worsened. important information; anxiety + heart conditions = a very, very bad combination. that’s why i was incredibly thankful to be able to receive my very first surgery, a catheter ablation, where everything seemed like it was going to be okay. you can imagine my fear when a couple months later, i suddenly felt my heart rapidly beating again, and found out that the surgeons nearly k*lled me by knocking something else inside my heart, and nothing was really fixed. even when i was physically eligible for a second surgery in the same year, i had hope again, endured it all over again, only to find out the surgery failed... again. 

i don’t think i can accurately describe the depression i felt when i was told by a cardiologist that my svt was part of the very, very small margin that’s very difficult to cure. sometimes, some svt patients have their extra node too close to the natural wiring of their heart, and altering that extra node may potentially fry the entire natural wiring, resulting in the need for a pacemaker. i was given the decision to either stay on medication for the rest of my life or take the risk of getting a pacemaker; my parents were vehemently against the latter. and so, something i hated became a part of myself i had to accept. i had to accept the constant cardiologist appointments, the hospital routines, the life-draining medication, the horrible feeling of never being able to do anything to my full potential because i was physically limited by something out of my control. it was depressing, it was anxiety-inducing, and most of all it was just... tragic. i never wanted anybody to see me as someone who needed to be treated differently, taken care of, someone less capable, a burden, but as i grew older and my anxiety worsened, so did my condition. suddenly my stronger doses of medication were damaging my body, suddenly my panic attacks were turning into full-blown svt attacks, and i felt like i couldn’t breathe and wanted to faint, sometimes i did. suddenly i have to inform my workplaces where i perform very physical labour that i can’t do things like everybody else does, and so i have to receive modified work. suddenly even exerting myself the slightest bit was triggering the condition, and i was becoming miserable; it was fucking miserable.

but it’s what has led me to now, where finally, finally i’m being told that the surgery has a much higher success rate now. thankfully, i’ll be receiving my third surgery today, my very first time receiving a radio-frequency ablation, and I’m nervous. really fucking nervous. some of the changes made to the surgery make it a little scarier, and i’m scared, but I’ll finally be freed of something that’s imprisoned me for years. you may have read others’ stories about svt, know someone or a famous person with the condition and think it’s not really anything serious, but for me, it was serious. this may sound like fiction or exaggerated but it isn’t. this has been my lived experience. it’s been something that made me experience a myriad of awful things, so i’m glad to say that I can’t wait for my life to change, to finally just be... me, without any limitations.

i wanted to say all of this to explain how happy i am to finally receive the treatment i’ve always wanted, that hopefully, this surgery is successful and i’ll be rid of this condition. I hope that you’ll think of me or maybe even keep me in your prayers for a successful surgery. it’s not incredibly life-threatening, but after the failures of the first two and nearly facing death the first time, i really, really want it to work 🥺 don’t worry about me! it may be far-fetched for me to believe anyone would even worry about me but, i can’t say that without tarnishing the characters of all the lovely, caring people that know me on this blog; my mutuals, my friends, my amazing readers and supporters and followers.

as a result of all this, i will need time to recover from the surgery, so starting today i’ll be on a break for approximately three weeks. this will also be during the time i begin school again, and with a full schedule ahead and commuting to the city with my job, time will be scarce and my writing will slow down. i truly hope you can understand that and keep questions about updates to a minimum. I’m always so amazed to hear how excited you are about my works, but please try to limit asks about ‘when’ and instead just ask where I am with my works! what am i writing! how’s the writing process going! those questions are much less anxiety-inducing and i’ll happily answer them :) 

thank you again to anyone who read this post, I love you dearly and I hope this message finds you well <33

— love, sammy ♡

[enbydemirainbowbigfoot]

Three Dads and a Monkie (2)

“I’m worried about him.”

Tang looked up. Pigsy was pacing again.

“It’s only been an hour,” Tang told him. “He’ll finish the deliveries, then come back like he always does.”

“I know, I know, you’re right,” Pigsy answered, then rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t know, I’ve got this funny feeling that something’s wrong.”

“He’s an adult now, you know,” Tang pointed out. “We have to trust that he knows what he’s doing.”

“That’s just it, though,” snapped the pig, startling Tang. “What if he doesn’t? He’s only been training with Monkey King for- what, a month?- and already it’s starting to affect his health! He fights DBK’s hotheaded kid every other day and stays up to all hours of the night and still manages to come in every morning to make deliveries! I just-“

Pigsy sighed, and his shoulders drooped. “Tang, do you think I’m too hard on him?”

Tang considered this. It was true that Pigsy sometimes took “tough love” too seriously, and threatened to fire MK every time he was late, but Tang knew- and was certain MK knew- that it was only because Pigsy thought the world of him.

“Perhaps you are a little harsh,” Tang admitted, “but your rough exterior hides a heart of gold. He knows this, and he loves you, Pigsy.” He reached across the counter for the remote. “Perhaps some television will distract you from your worry.”

click

“-here beside Main Street, where a five-car pile-up has blocked the road. The collision seems to have been caused by a single driver. Mx. Long, you saw the action. What can you tell us?”

The blue-haired grocer looked concerned. “I was sweeping the front mat when the car started weaving from side to side,” they said. “The several vehicles behind them hit the brakes, which caused the pile-up. I stood back, readying myself to call either the police or an ambulance, when I was forced to jump aside or be crushed as the car hit the front of my shop!” They motioned to the right, and the camera panned over to show the vehicle crumpled into the front of the shop. “I don’t think whoever was inside was seriously hurt.”

“I’m sure the paramedics will put our minds at ease,” said the reporter. “Let’s ask them now.”

The camera cut to an ambulance and a annoyed-looking paramedic. “We won’t be able to let you see the driver at this time, I’m afraid.”

The reporter frowned. “Can you at least tell us their identity? At least let their family have some closure.”

“Turn it off, Tang,” the man heard Pigsy mutter, voice tense. Neither of them could take their eyes off the screen, though.

The paramedic sighed. “He’s not dead, but fine, if you’ll let me get back to the patient. His name-“

“No, no, no-“

“-is Qí Xiǎotiān.”

BANG!!

The door slammed open as Pigsy sprinted out of the restaurant, closely followed by Tang, who only slowed to flip the sign from “open” to “closed.” Even though it was rarely used, both of them knew MK’s full name. That was their kid who’d gotten hurt!

ONE

THREE

FULL

[gogglor]

Cap-Ironman RecWeek: What-If Wednesday

Time for another installment of @cap-ironman rec week! Today’s theme: AU’s.

I know AU’s in different settings are half the reason most people read fanfics, but they’re not really my thing on the whole. AU’s where different choices are made, or different events transpire? Absolutely. Coffee shops? Not my cup of... you know.

So, here’s my AU recommendations for mostly “turn left” scenarios. This time with an under-the-cut break so I don’t take over everyone’s timelines (sorry about that last post). Also with some summaries truncated for length.

Alone Like This

Author: GotTheSilver

Word Count: 7,452

Summary: Steve, post waking up, runs away from SHIELD, and Tony's the one who tracks him down.

Why You Should Read It:

First off, GotTheSilver’s been consistently and regularly putting out solid Stony since 2012 and not only are they not stopping, they’re only getting better. This writer doesn’t get nearly the fanfare I’d expect in Stony circles for someone who puts out this much good stuff, and here’s hoping this post can be a part of changing that.

While I am always a sucker for enemies-to-friends-to-lovers, there’s something to be said for stories where Steve and Tony hit it off right away. And watching these two very different people look at each other and see the same sense of being lost, then finding each other again is... excuse me, there’s something in my eye, ignore me.

Second Chance Lives

Author: raeldaza

Word Count: 43,872

Summary: Tony's gonna die of palladium poisoning anyway, why not join a pointless expedition to recover Captain America’s body? And after, well, why not dedicate his last few months to making sure an American hero settles into his new life? What else is he going to do, get drunk at parties?

Why You Should Read It:

This writer doesn’t write a lot for the MCU but when they do, dang.

“Tony is the one helping Steve acclimate to the new century before Avengers 2012″ is a whole genre of Stony fanfics that scratch an itch I didn’t even know I had before I started reading fanfiction, and this is one of the best ones out there. It’s got it all - Steve poorly coping with his PTSD, Tony poorly coping with his immanent mortality, some breathtakingly poor communication between the two most emotionally stunted men in the MCU, and a cat named Roomba. What’s not to love?

Should You Choose to Accept It

Author: elwenyere (look, you’re gonna be seeing a lot of them this week, sorry-not-sorry)

Word Count: 27,106

Summary: After a terrorist attack and a field operation gone wrong, the Avengers realize that Nick Fury's secrets are just the start of a much bigger mystery. Steve and Tony try to keep some things from each other as well, but that can't possibly affect the mission — right? Mission Fic + Getting Together (or Mission: Getting Together) that mashes up elements from Iron Man 3, CA: Winter Soldier, Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. season one, and Mission Impossible 3.

Why You Should Read It:

You can see my post yesterday for singing El’s praises, but what I really liked about this fic was how how damn creative it is. The CAWS/IM3/AOS mashup is everything I wished the actual MCU gave us and more, with well-developed characters and an exciting story to put them in. And because it’s El, you know the banter’s gonna be on point, the way the characters care for each other is gonna be emotionally constipated but touching, and the pacing’s gonna be exciting enough to draw you in and keep you there. Also, this fic doesn’t have nearly enough kudos so please go read it and fix that or I’m gonna have to try to hack AO3 and that’ll just be embarrassing for all parties involved.

What Happens In Vegas

Author: sabremc

Word Count: 161,951

Summary: “What the hell, Tony?” Rhodey demanded brusquely.  Tony winced and drew the phone away from his ear.  “You’ve got cops and Feds all over the hotel.  I’m watching you perp walk out of the police station on repeat on CNN.  They’re saying you tried to bribe Stern?  Fox News has you selling weapons on the black market, and God that picture they’re using is the one from Bali in ’09.   You look like shit.  They wheeled Stern out and put him in an ambulance, by the way.  Got some paparazzi swearing you decked the guy.  Now they’ve got ‘copters following it like he’s OJ.”

“Yeah, don’t worry, Sourpatch, I’ve got it covered.   Uh, though, I should probably tell you that, purely in the interests of national security and the greater good, I kind of had to fake marry that stripper-gram  you sent.  Thanks for that, by the way,” Tony added quickly.

Why You Should Read It:

If you’re deep enough into Stony to see posts like this on Tumblr, you probably know sabre’s what we in the business call a “big name author.” They’re prolific, they’re popular, and most importantly, they write words good (technical term). Seriously, sabre just keeps cranking out high quality stuff over and over again, raising the bar for the rest of us like a jerk (not really. I’m not bitter they write stuff so good I wish I’d thought of it first. Not at all.)

I never read stripper!Steve or stripper!Tony as a rule, but this came so widely recommended that I broke that rule and boy am I glad that I did. This is also the only fic on this list that’s a true-AU, with Steve being a non-powered vet from Afghanistan who left his army career to help Bucky and is stripping in Vegas to raise money for a prosthetic arm. He’s booked to do a private show for Tony, shenanigans ensue, and now they’re fake-married. This fic’s got some top-of-the-line banter and character development, but I particularly love it for its rich setting. Sabre paints a Vegas not just with strip clubs and blackjack tables, but KISS-themed minigolf, romantic dinners on the Eiffel tower, gaudy hotel lobbies, and making out on giant ferris wheels. It’s such a richly developed playground for the characters to play on, and through it, Steve manages to find a life for himself he’d given up on, and Tony finds multiple ways to show his kindness and depth of feeling for Steve. I know the word count’s long for this one but trust me, you’ve gotta read this fic.

Wait & Sea

Author: Lenalena

Word Count: 53,244

Summary: In which Tony and Steve get sent on an undercover mission aboard a cruise ship to make contact with Hydra. In this AU the military has kept the discovery and defrosting of Captain America a secret, so Steve and Tony have never met before. Yet they are to pose as newlyweds....

Why You Should Read It:

This one’s old and popular enough to be considered one of the “classic” Stony fics, and for good reason. Lenalena doesn’t write too often and not as much as they used to, but the fics they have up there are an absolute delight.

This is another fic that I skipped a bunch of times for being outside my comfort zone, but when I finally read it I saw why everyone’s so wild about it. In this story, Steve’s defrosted a bit earlier and not revealed as Captain America. He and Tony are sent undercover to sniff out Hydra shenanigans on a cruise and, because it’s fanfiction, they’ve got to pretend to be a married couple while onboard. There’s tons to love about this fic, but the things that bring me back to reading it over and over is first, Tony’s kindness and the way he’s attuned to Steve’s feelings, which... God, just inject “kind, observant Tony” straight into my veins, please and thank you. This is also another really rich setting for a story, and Lena knows how to fold the the hokeyness of the cruise into the seriousness of the mission and the depth of feelings Steve and Tony are finding for each other in a really beautiful, layered way. It’s funny, it’s heartfelt, it’s steamy, it’s gripping... why are you still reading this here? Go check it out for yourself!

Ashes to Ashes

Author: dirigibleplumbing

Word Count: 51,582

Summary: After regrouping following some surprise time travel, the world's heroes and sorcerers come up with a plan to protect the Mind and Time Stones by taking them into space in opposite directions. The result involves a lot more time loops than Steve would like, but at least they're getting a second chance to stop Thanos. (As well as a third, and a fourth...) And if Steve takes the opportunity to try to reconcile with Tony, too—well, they have the time, and Steve's going to make the most of it.

Why You Should Read It:

Dirigibleplumbing’s another name in Stony fanfics that does not get nearly as much fanfare as they deserve. They’re consistently a really creative voice in Stony fanfics and I always look forward to their stories showing me something new. Go read all their fics, I need more people to geek out with me over them.

I tend to limit myself on Steve-and-Tony-mend-things-after-Civil-War fics not because they’re not good, but because they’re so heavy, and also the Sokovia Accords have five hundred layers of crap in them that no good fic could possibly hash out well. This one, though? When you add in the Infinity War/End Game fixit? Poetry. Art. Music to my ears. DP wrote a really engaging, twisty story where it’s hard to predict what’s coming next, in spite of it literally being a pseudo-Groundhog day scenario. The characterizations are great, the story is engaging, and the feelings are big and sad and eventually happy. Go read it, you’ll love it.

I have tons of other recs for this category but this seems like a good place to stop for today. Tomorrow’s Alternative Media Thursday, and I’ve got some real gems I’ve been saving for that day (aaaaand possibly a self-rec or two ;)

[half-bakedboy]

it’s okay (not to be okay)

(read on ao3) 

Pairing: Evan “Buck” Buckley/Eddie Diaz Rated: General Summary: “Great idea. Eddie really shouldn’t be exerting himself right now.”

“Seriously, Buck?” Eddie asked, standing up with a huff.

Buck didn’t have time to be frustrated, because Bobby was instructing him to assist with other patients and he had a job to do.

(Two jobs, if he counted protecting Eddie from himself.)

___________________________

[From: Ana]

Eddie had a panic attack and was taken to the hospital. He’s okay, but he’s struggling, Buck. I can’t get through to him, but I think you can. 

[From: Ana]

He doesn’t want anyone to know. Chris had to tell the doctor he was shot. I don’t know what to do.

[From: Ana]

He just dropped me off at my house. Maybe someone should check on him later?

Buck stared down at the messages on his phone, panic thrumming through his body with each passing moment. He ran his fingers through his hair and held in the breath he had sharply inhaled to hold back his own alarm. It was a feeling he was used to, one that he grew to absorb and hold back because he couldn’t let it interfere with his life, his job. He needed a clear head and when he didn’t have one, the panic would become too much to handle, a cross he couldn’t and wouldn’t let himself bear.

Eddie didn’t panic. Eddie was the one who didn’t make rash decisions, who thought through everything before he acted, who kept everyone else calm in each crisis the team had. His level head made him an amazing soldier, a phenomenal firefighter, an ideal father, and… well, everything Buck had ever wanted to be. 

So to say he was worried about Ana’s texts was an understatement. 

He held his phone up to his ear and when the sound of Eddie’s voice rung through the speaker, he deflated. The familiar sound of Eddie’s always professional voicemail pissed him off more than anything so he wasn’t about to give up. He dialed the other number saved into his favorites and after a few rings, rustling sounded through. 

“Buck?” Christopher asked, voice muffled with sleep. Buck checked the time on his watch and sighed. 

“I’m sorry, buddy, you go to sleep. I was just trying to reach—”

“Dad’s not gonna answer.” 

Christopher said the words so matter-of-factly that Buck felt his heartbeat speed up. 

“You think so? Why is that?” 

“He told me and Ana not to tell anyone,” Christopher began. 

Buck could hear his pout and he wanted to ruffle his hair and tell him that everything was going to be okay, but he had to convince himself of it first. Christopher could see right through him and he wasn’t willing to have the kid lose sleep over his own nerves. 

“You don’t have to tell me anything,” Buck promised, “but can you let me know what your dad is doing right now?” 

“He’s in bed. He didn’t even take a shower and he loves showers,” Christopher exaggerated. Buck let out a huff of laughter. 

“You’re observant, you know that?” A few moments of silence passed and even through the phone, Buck could hear Christopher’s worry. “Hey, he’s okay, right?”

“I think so.” He didn’t sound sure. 

“Well, both Ana and I are looking after him and you know who else is?” Buck asked. 

“Who?” Christopher whispered. His breathing was starting to slow, his voice sounding even more muffled as he slowly lulled himself to sleep. 

“ You . He’s okay because he has you, just like he always has, got it?” 

“Got it,” Chris agreed quietly. “Love you, Buck,” he added. 

The line went dead before Buck could say it back, but he figured Chris knew what his response would be anyway. 

___________________________

Over the next day, Buck did what he did best. He watched. He noted Eddie’s behavior. He considered the inflections of his voice, the content of his words, the way he handled himself. To any outsider, it was like nothing ever happened. 

Buck wasn’t just anyone, especially to Eddie.

He pretended not to notice Eddie’s hesitation when he was tasked with helping Chim wire the air traffic controller. He pretended that Eddie’s hand didn’t feel too heavy on his shoulder when he stood up to quickly diagnose the other man with a potential panic attack. 

He pretended he didn’t see the way Eddie’s hands trembled a little more than they usually did after a call while they made their way to the fire truck and ambulances with the victims. He pretended not to see Eddie close his eyes for a few moments and take a deep breath, in and out, calculated like it wasn’t quite second nature anymore. 

It wasn’t until they entered the emergency department that he had ammo for confrontation. 

“Hey, what was with that doctor on the way in? Why is she asking if you’re alright?” Buck asked. He played nonchalance really well but he could be proud of himself for that later. 

“It was nothing.” Buck just stared and Eddie sighed. “I wasn’t feeling well the other day, so… she checked me out.” 

“She’s a cardiologist. At a hospital,” Buck supplied. He knew Eddie didn’t think he was that stupid—or at least, he hoped. “Are you saying you had a heart attack?” Buck asked, immediately concerned that maybe he didn’t let Ana and Christopher in on the full story. 

“No, I’m not saying I had a heart attack. I’m saying the opposite,” Eddie said smugly, “I’m saying I didn’t have a heart attack.” 

“But you did think you were having a heart attack,” Buck appended. He was leading Eddie to the point, feigning dumb for the good of the situation, but Eddie wouldn’t budge. 

“Can we just drop this?” 

Before Buck could argue, Hen walked over and asked, “Guys, want us to tag you out?” Eddie agreed, but Buck felt his annoyance rise within him. He couldn’t stop himself from his next words. 

“Great idea. Eddie really shouldn’t be exerting himself right now.” 

“Seriously, Buck?” Eddie asked, standing up with a huff. 

Buck didn’t have time to be frustrated, because Bobby was instructing him to assist with other patients and he had a job to do. 

(Two jobs, if he counted protecting Eddie from himself.) 

___________________________

The front door to Eddie's apartment slammed and Buck could see the tension jerk at Eddie’s shoulders. 

“Were you ever going to tell me?” Buck questioned. 

“There wasn’t anything to tell, Buck,” Eddie said stubbornly. Buck would have smacked him if he wasn’t so worried. 

“Nothing to tell, huh?” He held up his hand and counted off his fingers as he listed off, “You had a presumed heart attack and were sent by ambulance to the hospital. Turns out it was a panic attack and when asked if there were any stressors lately, you lied to the doctor about getting shot—”

“I didn’t lie, I—”

Eddie stopped himself when Buck’s glare narrowed even further. 

“Your son had to tell the doctor that you were shot,” Buck corrected. Eddie pressed his lips together, unwilling to argue. “You almost have another panic attack on a scene and tell approximately no one only have a full-blown meltdown on a helicopter that’s hanging on by a thread in the middle of a rescue. Am I missing anything?” Buck asked, though it was clear he wasn’t looking for an answer. 

“I’m fine—” Eddie began. 

Buck waltzed up to him and grabbed him by the shoulders, shaking him as hard as he could while still being aware of the bullet hole-shaped scar left behind from those few months ago. The scar that might have physically stayed on Eddie, but lingered in the back of Buck’s mind every single day. 

“You’re not fine, Eddie! You almost died and you’re sitting here like life goes on and nothing has changed.” 

“Nothing has. It was a panic attack, not another near-death experience.” 

“You say another like it’s a normal occurrence in people’s lives,” Buck exclaimed. “It’s not! It’s not normal for people to get shot and survive—not once, but twice. It’s not normal for people to just move on with their lives like they weren’t nearly ended. It’s not normal to carry on like nothing is wrong when something is fucking wrong, Eddie!” 

“Buck, you should take a step back—” 

Buck pushed himself away before Eddie’s hands could press against his shoulders, that thumbprint on his pulse that reminded both of them that they were still there. He leaned against the wall behind him, unable to hold himself up without assistance anymore, and sighed.

“You didn’t tell me,” Buck said, a whisper of admission into the air between them like a secret Buck wasn’t ready to tell. 

“I couldn’t,” Eddie muttered. 

“You couldn’t?” Buck scoffed. “You didn’t trust me? You didn’t want me to exhaust you with my worry? Give me one good reason why you couldn’t tell me!” 

“Because then it’s real, Buck, okay?!” Eddie yelled. He ran his hands through his hair before he pounded a fist against the wall beside him. It would hurt in the morning, that much was obvious by the sound that echoed through the empty room. 

“What?” Buck asked quietly. Eddie breathed deeply like he hadn’t taken in air in months. Buck wasn’t convinced he had. 

“If you don’t know, then I can forget it’s happening. I’m not reminded of that moment where the pain was so great that I couldn’t hold myself up and only trusted myself to reach out to you to pick me back up. I’m not haunted by the fact that I almost made my son an orphan for the third time in his life. If you don’t know, then I can pretend it never happened and move forward.”

“From what, Eddie? You can’t just move forward. You know that,” Buck prodded. 

“Yeah, well, I sure as hell can try .” 

They both paused, taking the moment of silence to breathe, to think, to figure out what was next. 

Eddie made the first move, walking over to where Buck had leaned back against the wall and matched his position. He pressed their shoulders together, his eyes glued to the way Buck’s chest moved up and down slowly, imitating the movement as if he wasn’t sure he would be able to do it himself. 

Buck yearned to reach out and hold him, but instead, he asked the questions that lingered on his mind. 

“When are going to let us—any of us—in? When are you going to let me help you ? When are you going to admit that you’re not okay?” 

Eddie didn’t—couldn’t—answer, but the shake in his shoulders was unmistakable.

As he slid down the wall, Buck followed his every move, wrapping an arm around his waist to ease the fall. When they landed, Eddie pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes and let out a gutwrenching sob that had tears bubbling behind Buck’s eyelids. He held them back as best he could because, at that moment, nothing else could matter but Eddie. 

Cries of pain, anguish, fear, every horrible emotion that had been welling up inside of both of them burst from Eddie’s mouth and he fell into Buck for the support he extended. He clawed at the collar of Buck’s shirt, his nails raking against the skin of Buck’s chest, but nothing was as painful as the way Eddie gasped at the breaths that didn’t seem to come as quickly as he needed them to. 

Buck held Eddie’s hand to his heart so he could feel the simple rise and fall of his chest and mimic it again. His other hand grasped at the shirt of Eddie’s back to keep his panic away, his own way of anchoring himself there so he could continue to be the solid weight Eddie needed to push through. 

Every part of them was entangled and Eddie had no choice but to press his face into Buck’s neck. Buck hoped his heartbeat stayed solid enough to remind Eddie they were both still alive, even if it felt like they weren’t. 

“I’ve got you, Eds, I’m here. I won’t let you go, never.” 

It was too much to say, too easy for Eddie to read into the double entendre of his words and Buck selfishly hoped he was too lost in his own mind to realize it. 

But the words or the touch or the steady calmness Buck forced himself into seemed to ease Eddie out of the attack of emotions that surged through him. Little by little, Eddie’s sobs turned to hiccups, his tears turned to trickles, and the white-knuckled grip he had on Buck loosened but didn’t fall. He breathed in time with Buck, his heartbeat slowing to its correct rhythm, and the tremors in his body settled to occasional chills. 

“Buck?” Eddie asked, as if he barely realized what was happening inside of him. 

“I’m here,” Buck reassured. 

Eddie shook his head and when he finally glanced up, all Buck could see was the redness around his eyes and the tear stains that looked too permanent on his skin. 

“I’m not okay,” Eddie admitted— finally —before pressing his face back into Buck’s neck with a whimper like the words were painful to acknowledge out loud.

“Yeah, Eddie, I know.” 

Buck couldn’t resist kissing the top of his head and letting his lips linger for just a second too long. 

“I need your help,” Eddie said, his voice graveled with emotion.

“You’ve got it,” he promised again.

“Yeah, Buck, I know,” Eddie teased because of course, even in his darkest moment, he had to get the last word in and it had to be something full of that sarcastic barrier he protected himself with. 

Buck let him, though, because he figured Eddie knew what his response would be anyway. 

[zoominlumen]

How’s One to Know?

I am impulse posting my fic because Julian and Lea were so nice and the rest of this fandom is so positive and supportive and fun and I love to be a part of it! Just know that I take my original fiction a bit more seriously and I don’t write smut often. Here we go! I just love mutual pining... Smut in chapter 3. Might continue! I have big plans for these two!

Chapter One

The office has been insufferable lately, the air thick with things unsaid, and now Dan’s mother is here for one of her biannual visits. So I am relieved to don my coveralls and face shield, fire up the torch and get under the machine where it feels like I am in my own, little world. But when I am down there, gritting my teeth, with the torch burning and the metal melting, my mind wanders.

Feet pass by me, three sets. I’m sure they are having a good old time up there, talking about things I wouldn’t understand, the specifications of the machine. Or maybe, just maybe, Elouise is as much of a bitch to Theresa as she ever was to me. I find a cool delight at the thought, although it’s a bad one. Theresa is still nothing but nice to me. If she feels the unfair hate I have for her, she doesn’t acknowledge it. I wonder, for a moment, if I am the only one feeling suffocated lately…

No.

Dan knows something is wrong between all of us, he just doesn’t know why. He’s not good at reading people. He doesn’t consider it his job to untangle knots, he just keeps his head down and keeps working, even through the distractions… Theresa is getting to be too much, lately. I really don’t blame her, how can I? Dan distracts me, sometimes, too. But I don’t let it get in the way, I can’t, it would only end up hurting me more. I guess I try to be like Dan, keep working, but I’m not good at it, he drives me insane.

A foot steps behind my head and I blink, refocusing on my task the very same instant that a blob of molten metal falls from where I am working and onto the sleeve of my coveralls, right on the back of my wrist. It doesn’t faze me, at first, but then I feel the heat of it. It shouldn’t be possible, but it bleeds through the fabric, the burn increases tenfold in one second and then I am screaming.

My gloved hands drop my torch and frantically trying to scrape the molten metal away, but it’s burned all the way through, I can’t get to it, and then I am being rolled out from under the machine and when the light of Dan’s office hits my eyes I remember myself. The pain is the worst thing I’ve ever felt but I have to shut the torch off, and reach for it, but Theresa is already turning the valve while Dan is at my side, eyes wide.

“What happened!? Where are you hurt?”

I have my arm pressed to my chest and my free hand comes up to cradle it. It doesn’t make sense, but I think if I squeeze hard enough, pull it close enough, the pain will stop. “My arm-!”

“-Let me see.”

“No, it’s bad.” My teeth are clenched, I can barely get the words out. My head is spinning and my vision blurs, I think I’m going to pass out but then Dan is pulling me forward to sit up, one arm snaking around my back and his other hand on my injured arm. His voice is surprisingly forceful.

“Let me see.”

I’m going limp anyway, my head lolls forward and drops to his shoulder. My arm is quivering as Dan turns it over and his face goes unreadable, his problem-solving mask.

“We have to get you to a hospital. Try to stand.”

He is pulling me up with Theresa helping on my other side. I realize that Elouise is standing not five feet away, watching the entire thing with completely unsympathetic eyes and pinched lips. When Dan puts my arm over his shoulders, and his hand touches my waist, my already wobbly knees threaten to collapse. He smells like cedar wood and old books and my heart is already going a mile a minute but now my stomach is doing flips, too.

His mother’s cold voice stops us all. “Can’t she get herself to a hospital, Daniel? Or call her an ambulance.”

“She’s going into shock,” Dan breathes, disbelieving. His mother’s wickeder moments always shock him. They never shock me. We start moving again. “I’m sorry but Theresa can tell you anything you want to know about our work. If I don’t see you before you go, have a safe trip home.”

We are out the door before she can try any other tactic.

I stumble on the steps and almost go down, but Dan keeps us up, somehow, grunting with the effort. Oxford students pass us by in the halls and a few ask ‘is she alright?’ or offer to call for help, but I shake my head at them and we fight our way down to the street.

My own reflection in the mirror of Dan’s car shocks me. All the color is gone from my face, I’m covered in a sheen of sweat. He puts the car in gear but then I reach out and touch his arm.

“Wait. Don’t take me to the hospital.”

“You need-.”

“-No. I can’t afford it, and-.”

“-I’ll pay!”

“-We can’t afford to have anybody asking questions, Dan! It’s obvious what caused this, and I’m not certified, and they’re already suspicious of you. Take me to campus clinic. They know you there, right?”

“Are you-.” He balks and his nerves show for a second. “Are you making a joke?”

I manage a weak grin. He knows me so well, he could tell just from the way that I was not looking at him straight, but out of the corner of my eye. “You do know somebody in the clinic, don’t you?”

“Yes, one of my students… It doesn’t feel right.”

“It’s my body, my decision, Dan. Put your seatbelt on.”

And that makes up his mind, he puts his seatbelt on and drives us across campus. The clinic is a smaller, brick building, white tile on the inside with a row of chairs in the waiting room populated by coeds who avoid your gaze, waiting to get tested for pregnancies and STDs.

We are lucky and Dan’s student is working. He’s a patchouli smelling and buff young man with a neat goatee, who spirits us back to what was once a records room. He illuminates the track lighting, which flickers, and unfolds a single chair which Dan then lowers me onto. I feel like I am floating through the whole thing, the pain in my arm a dull throbbing, now.

“I don’t know how I feel about this, Professor.”

“You’re a medical professional, Leon, I just need you to do me a favor and keep this between us, and I’ll make it worth your while.”

“There’s just- there’s so many things that could go wrong, and if they do, then I’m out of a job, a career, my school, my housing.”

“Hey,” I say, getting their attention. “Sack up and let’s do this, Leon.”

He blinks at me, then says, “Okay.”

He leaves us alone in the room for a moment. Dan puts a hand on my shoulder, giving me a squeeze. “You’re going to be okay.”

“I know. I don’t know how it happened, the metal shouldn’t have gotten through my suit-.”

Dan kneels and starts to roll up my sleeve, stopping when I hiss and saying, “Sorry.”

“It’s okay. Do it.”

His nimble fingers distract me from the pain as he pushes the cuff away from the burn, and it’s so hideous that I have to look away. There is no blood, just a lily-white ring of puckered skin leading down into a red cavern of bubbled flesh, sinewy muscle and the coldness of the metal only partially showing still. It’s deep, almost to the bone.

Dan’s face flashes pain, then he takes my other hand and squeezes it. “You need a hospital. There could be nerve damage. If Leon misses a single speck of metal or fiber, you could be looking at serious infection-.”

“-No,” I say. “We’re doing this here, and I’m going to be fine.”

Leon enters the room carrying cleanser, gloves, long tweezers and bandages. He freezes for a moment when he sees the wound, then blinks and gets right back to it. “Good. Hold her hand.” He pulls on the gloves, then kneels in front of me, right beside Dan. “Try not to scream, Miss…”

The tweezers dig in and my arm lurches of its own volition, a scream lives and dies in my throat as I squeeze my eyes shut, grit my teeth, force it all down. Dan has lurched to his feet and wraps both arms around me, cradling my head against his chest as I stifle a sob and the tweezers go in again.

After the metal is extracted, the wound cleaned and bandaged, Dan drives me home. I try to thank him as I climb out of the car, but then he is at my side again, putting a hand on my back and walking with me. The pills Leon gave me numb the throbbing, but I have gone from feeling weightless to feeling as though my legs are made of stone. Every step is a battle.

I live on the third floor of a big, old building, and have to stop at every landing, I’m so woozy. Somehow we make it to the door. I unlock it, and I think that’s the end of it, but Dan follows me in. There are people in the kitchen. I live with two couples, and my room is hardly big enough for my twin bed and a desk. I flop down on the mattress and I think I could fall right asleep.

Dan looks around incredulously. These are not the sort of accommodations he is used to. He steps out of the room, so I let my eyes close. But then he reappears with a glass of water and sits on the side of my bed.

“Drink this,” he prompts.

I obey, but I barely lift my head and some of it dribbles down my cheek. I don’t care. I just want to sleep.

“Can I get you something to eat?”

I shake my head. “Thank you. I’m sorry…”

“It’s okay.” He takes my hand again, and it’s different than it was in the clinic, he has no excuse. I feel warm and suddenly awake. “You scared me, though…”

“Me too.”

He looks out the small window. “Things have been different, lately… haven’t they?”

Looking up at him, I nod. He is beautiful. I have thought so since we were little, since I was seven and he was nine, although of course it was different back then. Now he has a beard, and now I imagine the way it would feel on my neck, on my thighs…

He takes a deep breath, exhales, he can’t seem to help a nervous chuckle that escapes. “Is it because… of…”

I tense, my pulse quickens. He knows. He’s ready to talk about it, it’s going to end in tears, I’m going to lose him. Nobody has ever wanted me before, not really, so how could Dan?

“Is it because of Theresa?”

“It’s not her fault… I don’t blame her. I don’t expect anything from you-.”

“-Right, I know. It’s not like I’d let someone go, just for their feelings, not when we’ve all worked so hard on this project… I don’t want anyone to get hurt.” It’s a relief to hear that my job is not in jeopardy. His finger moves in circles on my palm. He’s trying to let me down gently, and I love him for it.

“It’s okay, Dan,” I say, and my voice is small. “I just want you to be happy.” And Theresa has made her feelings clear, she is a pretty and smart and kind girl with so much to offer someone. I’m not like her; I’m hard.

He smiles, then finally looks at me. “I’ve got that wedding, next week, up in Edinburgh… will you go with me?”

I blink, shocked. “Go with you?”

He’s confused by my confusion, but he’s still smiling. “Y-yes? Please?”

Quickly, I see it for what it is, a consolation prize. He doesn’t want to lose me, either, and maybe he’s not ready to move ahead with Theresa. Or maybe he even values our friendship more than a potential relationship. I sit up and throw my arms around him. “Of course.”

Sitting on my bed, with Dan’s arms around me, I feel whole.

[set-phasers-to-whump]

forgotten

prompt: forgotten (alt no.5)

whumpee: kurt wallander

fandom: young wallander

hey hi hello this is not so good and i apologize but i had to finish and submit a paper today which was a Lot of writing so this fic really did not want to get written lmao. anyways it is set in my usual post-s1 world with rask as the boss and kurt back as a detective. maybe you’ll like it? idk. (also the setup is there’s been some big fight which Kurt has gotten caught up in)

“You’re hurt.”

It’s a statement, not a question, and he’s not really sure what Rask means. He isn’t hurt, and he’s pretty sure he’d know if he was. 

Except she reaches out a hand and touches his side and suddenly it does hurt, and he can’t quite stop himself from wincing, and Rask’s fingers come away bloody, and he finally looks down, and -

Shit. He’s hurt. 

The black fabric of his t-shirt hides the blood well, but there’s a tear in it, through which he can see his skin, stained crimson. There’s quite a lot of blood. He feels a bit dizzy, but resolutely does not make any move to sit down.

“What happened?”

“I…have no idea.”

Rask gives him an unimpressed eyebrow raise, which is probably fair considering the fact that he’s most likely said this same thing before, lying. He isn’t lying now, though. He’d been in the thick of the fight, surrounded by dozens of other people, and it’s all kind of a blur. He recalls faces swarming in his field of view, the shouting, being pushed and slammed into and falling to the ground multiple times. Nowhere in there does he recall getting seriously injured.

“Honestly. I didn’t even know I’d been hurt until just now.”

Rask shakes her head, a little disbelievingly, but lets it go. She lifts up his shirt, and he sucks in a breath as the fabric peels away from his side. 

“This…looks like a knife wound. It’s fairly shallow, but someone would have had to get at you pretty good. Does that help jog your memory?”

It should, probably, he thinks. He still doesn’t remember, though. He shakes his head, which makes him dizzy again. 

“You’re going to the hospital.”

“You said it was a shallow wound!” Kurt protests, but he can hear the exhaustion and resignation in his own voice already, and knows this is a battle he’s going to lose. Still, he feels that he has to fight it. “I’ll be alright, just let me -“

“No,” Rask interrupts. “You’re going, and that’s final.”

He’d expected that, and simply says, “alright.”

Rask forces him to take a seat (he scowls at her, but is secretly incredibly relieved to get off of his feet), and she calls for an ambulance to pick him up. Kurt balks at this - he’s not that hurt, he’s still conscious and lucid and he’s already embarrassed, at being hurt, at not even remembering how it happened, but Rask is firm. 

“I’d drive you myself, believe me. I’d like nothing more than to keep an eye on you and make sure you actually get the damn medical attention you need. Don’t know that I trust you to not run away the second you see an opportunity. But, as you may have noticed, we’re a bit swamped with the fight and I’ve already lost one of my detectives to a stab wound he doesn’t even remember getting. I can’t afford to take you myself, or have anyone else take you either. You’re just going to have to suck it up and ride in the damn ambulance.”

She’s got a point, Kurt has to admit. Still. He’s not happy about it. At least Rask is decent enough to let him walk out to meet the ambulance when it arrives (which hurts quite a lot and nearly makes him pass out, but is well worth it because there is no way in hell he’s leaving on anything other than his own two feet). 

The paramedics are a little overbearing on the way to the hospital, and Kurt knows it’s their job, but they’re also incredibly annoying - he keeps insisting he has no idea what happened and they keep asking him if he remembers this detail or that and he doesn’t remember any of it at all and he kind of wants to yell at them to please just stop but he’s too tired. 

Eventually they stop asking him questions, and soon afterwards they arrive at the hospital. The paramedics are firm about not letting Kurt walk in on his own, and again he wants to fight with them but is simply too tired. He lets them help him but does manage to find the energy to insist that they walk. It’s arms around shoulders and around waists and he can tell that the paramedics are a little bit exasperated with him but he needs this, even though with every step the world is getting blurrier and his head is spinning more and more and - 

He passes out as soon as they step through the hospital doors.

thanks for reading! dw kurt is fine i just didn’t know how to end it and am not feeling hospital vibes at the moment. anyways i know this was short and not so good but maybe you enjoyed it, regardless thanks for giving it a read <3

[thebookreader12345]

Unexpected

Pairing: Blake Gallo x reader

Summary: Y/N tells Blake some news he didn’t expect to hear, and the way he reacts makes her regret saying anything in the first place. But when Y/N is in an accident, he has to rethink his future

Requested: No

Warnings: mentions of pregnancy and severe injuries, slight reference to abortion/adoption

Word Count: 2,341 Words

The whole firehouse was standing outside, sign at the ready. Blake was doing a 13 mile run today, and he was going to pass the firehouse any second now. He was even running in full PPE gear to raise awareness for cancer in firemen. I was bundled in my coat, and a beanie was resting on my head.

“Here he comes! Hold up the banner!” Stella shouted. Her along with a few others held the up banner they had made with the words “Go! Gallo! Go!” written on it. That’s when Gallo arrived, and when he saw the banner, a smile graced his lips. I cheered louder than the rest of the firehouse because Blake also happened to be my boyfriend, and I was really proud of him for doing this.

“You’ve got this babe!” I cheer. Blake then began jogging over in my direction, and when he reached me, he pulled me in for a kiss. I cupped his cheeks with my hands, and I could feel the heat radiating from his skin. His whole face had a reddish tint to it, possibly because he was running 13 miles in full gear, but it made him look adorable. “I love you,” I tell Blake as he pulled away.

“Love you too,” Blake replied before going off to continue his run. As Blake ran off, I suddenly felt a bit dizzy. I grabbed onto Ritter, who was closest to me, and he caught me in his arms as I sort of collapsed.

“Y/N! You okay?” Sylvie asked as Ritter wrapped an arm around me to keep me steady.

“I-I’m fine. Just got a bit dizzy,” I answer.

“You, fainted, Y/N. That’s not normal. Come on. We’re going to take you to Med,” Emily spoke and took me from Ritter’s arms. Her and Sylvie got me into the ambulance, and then we started the drive to Med. Thankfully, they didn’t put the sirens on, because I didn’t want to cause a scene over nothing. At the hospital, I was put into a trauma room, and a few minutes later, Dr. Manning walked in.

“Hey, Y/N. I heard you kind of fainted earlier. Everything okay?” Natalie questioned.

“I just got dizzy for a moment. I’m sure it was nothing,” I respond.

“Okay, but I want to run a few tests just to be sure. We’ll get you out of here as soon as possible,” Natalie told me. After about 2 hours, Natalie came back, meaning my tests were done. “Okay, so your blood pressure was a very low earlier. Have you eaten anything today?”

“I had a granola bar earlier, but before I could eat breakfast, we got a call,” I explain.

“Well, you’re going to need to be more on top of your eating now that you’re eating for two,” Natalie informed me.

“I-I’m sorry. What did you just say?” I ask.

“One of the tests detected hCG in your blood. It means that you’re pregnant. 6 weeks,” Natalie clarified. “So, who’s the lucky guy? Would it happen to be Blake Gallo, the very man standing right outside?”

“He’s out there? Please tell me he can’t hear us from out there,” I plead.

“Uh, no. He can’t hear us. Is there something wrong, Y/N?” Natalie quizzed.

I didn’t answer her, and instead asked another question. “Is it okay for me to go?”

“Sure. But Y/N, I think that you’ll be a great mother, and if Blake loves you as much as I believe he does, then he’s going to ecstatic,” Natalie confessed.

“Yeah. Sure. Bye, Nat,” I say and leave the room, only to bump into Blake.

“Hey. I got a call from Ritter saying that Brett and Foster were taking you to Med, so as soon as I finished the marathon I came straight here,” Blake said. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I didn’t eat much today, so my blood pressure was low. That’s why I fainted. Nothing else is wrong,” I lie. “Can we get going?”

“Yeah. Of course. We can stop by the firehouse to get your stuff and then we can head to my place,” Blake answered.

“Actually, can you just drop me off at my apartment?” I question.

“Are you sure you’re feeling okay? You’re looking a bit pale,” Blake exclaimed.

“I’m fine. I just want to get some sleep,” I murmur. Blake nodded and led me out to his car, and after we grabbed my stuff from the firehouse, he dropped me off at my apartment. I wanted to get some sleep, but all I could think about was the life growing inside of me, and how I would eventually have to tell Blake and everyone else. I should probably do it sooner than later, considering I had a dangerous profession, but part of me didn’t want to say anything. Blake and I had only been together a few months, and I didn’t want to ruin our relationship. At my next shift, the day was pretty slow. We hadn’t had any calls, which was unusual seeing as we were the busiest house. All I wanted to do was be alone, so I went into the gear closet and sat on the floor. After sitting there for a few minutes, I suddenly began to cry. I couldn’t help myself. It felt like my life was falling apart by the second. That’s when the door to the closet opened, and in walked Blake Gallo, the person I didn’t want to see.

“Hey,” Blake mumbled and crouched down in front of me. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m so sorry,” I sob as more tears fell from my eyes.

“Sorry for what?” Blake asked and used his thumbs to wipe the tears from my face. “You haven’t done anything wrong?” This caused more tears to escape, and I could see worry painted all over Blake’s features. I didn’t want to have to do this now, but I knew deep down that I had to. Blake needed to know.

“Blake, I’m pregnant,” I state.

“W-what?” Blake questioned.

“When I was at Med the other day, Natalie ran a few tests to make sure that nothing was seriously wrong with me, and she discovered that I was pregnant. I should have told you sooner, but I couldn’t bring myself to,” I disclose. Blake sat down across from me, and I could tell he was thinking about something from the look on his face. He was probably trying to figure out when this had happened, but I already knew. Natalie said that I was 6 weeks pregnant, and around 6-7 weeks ago, things got heated between Blake and I after a night at Molly’s. We were both so drunk that we forgot to use protection. It soon got to the point where Blake’s silence scared me, so I spoke up. “Can you say something? Please.”

“What do you want me to say?” Blake asked.

“I don’t know. Anything would be nice,” I exclaim.

“Well, I don’t have much to say. Excuse me,” Blake murmured and stood up before exiting the closet. At that moment, my whole world came crashing down. Blake had just walked out without saying a word, which basically meant he didn’t want to deal with a child. And how the hell was I supposed to do this on my own? Of course, there was always adoption or..... I couldn’t bring myself to say it. I couldn’t even think about it. I sighed and wiped the tears from my eyes, and once I felt ready, I exited the closet. That afternoon, we got a call about a house fire. Upon arriving at the scene, Casey was already doling out orders.

“L/N, you and I are going to examine the second floor and check for victims,” Matt ordered. I nodded and put my helmet on my head. As I went to walk towards the house, Blake grabbed a hold of my arm to stop me. I shook him off and continued walking towards the house, placing my mask on before heading inside. Flames were raging around us, and even through my gear, I could feel the heat. Matt then walked up the stairs with me following behind him. Smoke was gathering on the ceiling of every room, and it was getting hard to see. As we got to the second floor, we discovered a woman crawling towards the doors. “Ma’am, you’ve got to get out of here,” Matt demanded.

“I can’t,” the woman protested. “My husband. I think he’s still inside.”

“I’ll find him,” I tell Matt. “You get her outside.”

“Are you sure?” Matt asked me.

I nodded. “I’ve got this.” Matt then helped the woman up, and they made their way back downstairs. I poked my head into the first door, and looked around. “Fire Department! Call out!” No one answered, and it didn’t look like anyone was in there, so I moved onto the room down the hall. Just then, Boden came over the radio.

“L/N, get out of there! The place is about to blow!” Boden exclaimed.

“Just a minute, Chief. There could be another victim in here,” I reply and enter the next room, which had fire raging everywhere. As I stepped inside, the ceiling above me hissed, and seconds later, wooden beams and other materials fell from above. I moved out of the way just in time, but the bad news was that the doorway was now covered, and there was no way out. I looked around as the fire spread, hoping to find something that could get me out of here, and that’s when I saw the paint cans everywhere. This room was being remodeled. Just my luck because paint was highly flammable. At that moment, the fire reached the paint cans, and I had to make a split second decision. I ran at the window and threw myself into the glass, causing it to easily shatter. I flew from the second story just as the explosion went off behind me, sending flames out of every window in the house. I was in the air for a few seconds, and then came the fall. I hit the ground hard on my side, sending waves of pain through my body. Seconds later, I was being surrounded by my fellow co-workers.

“Y/N!” Matt shouted and removed my mask from my face. “Brett! Foster! We need some help over here!” My vision started going in and out as the pain became stronger. My whole body felt heavy, and I felt paralyzed. There was nothing I could do but sit here and take it. The last thing I saw before losing consciousness was the face of Blake Gallo.

Blake’s POV

Y/N’s head fell limp as I reached her, and I was immediately filled with worry. Brett and Foster ran over to us with their supplies, and Matt and I helped them slide the backboard under Y/N before lifting her up onto the gurney. 

“I’m thinking possible broken hip, maybe some internal bleeding. We need to get her to Med now,” Sylvie spoke and placed a breathing mask over Y/N’s face.

“What about the baby?” I question.

“Baby? What baby?” Emily asked.

“Y/N’s pregnant,” I tell them. The ride to the hospital was chaos. Y/N wasn’t looking to good, and Sylvie eventually had to intubate her because she wasn’t breathing well enough. Sylvie said that was likely from a broken rib that may have punctured a lung. The whole ride, all I could think about was the baby. I had reacted badly when Y/N first told me, and I didn’t want her to think I didn’t care. When we got her the hospital, Will Halstead met us at the door.

“You have to save her, man. You have to save both of them,” I exclaim.

“Gallo, I will do everything I can to make sure her and the baby are safe,” Will confessed as he rolled her gurney into one of the empty trauma rooms.

Y/N’s POV

When I woke up, I felt a bit groggy. Like I had just woken up from a very deep sleep. I felt a bit of pain, but it was mostly muted down. I groaned and opened my eyes to see that I was in a hospital room. That’s when I remembered the fall, and I started freaking out a bit. Was the baby okay? Will then entered the room with his chart.

“I’m glad to see you awake. How are you feeling?” Will asked.

“I’m fine. How’s the baby?” I question.

“The baby is fine. It’s almost a miracle. That fall should have caused you more severe injuries,” Will explained. I let out a breath that I didn’t even know I was holding in. I was so grateful that the baby was okay. “Gallo is waiting outside. You want me to send him in?”

“Yeah,” I mutter. “I need to talk to him.” Will nodded and left the room, and seconds later, Blake walked in.

“Hey,” Blake murmured and took a seat in the chair next to my bed.

“Hey. Look, Blake, I know this is unexpected, and you don’t have to agree with me, but uh, I’m keeping the baby,” I inform him.

“That’s great, because I want to keep it too,” Blake responded. “Back at the firehouse, I had no right to leave you in the dark like that. We should have talked things through, and instead I left you alone. I know we’re young, but I love you, and I will love this baby more than anyone else in the world.”

I smiled. “That means a lot, Blake. I’m super scared, but I think we can survive this.”

“Me too. You get some rest, okay?” Blake told me and stood up.

“Actually, can you stay? I don’t want to be alone right now,” I say.

“Of course,” Blake stated and sat down. “And you know, while we’re alone, we could start discussing baby names.”

I laughed. “It’s a bit too early for that, but okay. So, what did you have in mind?”

____________________________

Tag List:

@prettypyschoinpink @securityfriendly-jay @scarletsoldierrr @lorenakaspersen @virtualreader @carnationworld @caitsymichelle13​ @anotherfan07​

[baticorngirl]

Title: “Dad, you’re embarrassing me!’

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Relationship(s): Talia Al Ghul/Bruce Wayne (Brutalia), Talia Al Ghul & Ra’s Al Ghul, Bruce Wayne & Ra’s Al Ghul, Dusan Al Ghul & Ra’s Al Ghul, Nyssa Raatko & Ra’s Al Ghul, Talia Al Ghul & Dusan Al Ghul,

Characters: Talia Al Ghul, Bruce Wayne, Ra’s Al Ghul, Nyssa Raatko, Dusan Al Ghul,

Summary: Bruce Wayne, an average (other than his parent's death) billionaire, was nervous. Very, very, nervous. It was a simple task, really, but meeting his girlfriend's family seemed rather intimidating at the moment. She has mentioned her father being strict or whatnot many times, and it had gotten many worries to arrive in his mind.

Unfortunately, Bruce had every right to be worried.

A/N: I don't own the characters, DC does.

This fic was originally made (or at least started) for @brutalia-week​ Day 4: Family. Since I wasn't able to finished it in time, I tried to make it a "day 8" kind of thing.... although I'm a teeny bit late for that, too, lol. It was originally just supposed to be a short humor fanfic, but... let's just say it got out of hand. Fair warning that some of the characters may be a teeny bit OOC (nothing too bad, though) because of humor or just plot-convenience.

For context, this takes place in an alternate universe where Bruce doesn't become Batman, but that's the only big difference. Anyway, enjoy!

Related Links: Read it on FF.Net (x), Read it on Ao3(x),

Day 1(x), Day 2(x), Day 3(x), Day 5(x), Day 6(x), Day 7(x),

______________________________________________________

Bruce was uncomfortable. His tie felt itchy, and hot, like a fever that somehow didn't spread to his forehead. In fact, his whole body felt hot, and the tiniest bit shaky. Bruce's stomach twisted up in a knot, making his face turn visibly red with discomfort. His breathing was a bit quicker and shorter than normal. He was nervous. Very, very, nervous. But considering the situation, he had every right to be.

Talia and him had been dating for quite a while now. Over 6 months, actually. They met up when they could, and every time they went on a date, they started enjoying each other's company more, and more, and more. Talia often had things she needed to do, though, and they would often come up out of what seemed to be nowhere. She'd always say she just had an assignment from work of some kind, but it often occurred to Bruce that she never mentioned what she did as a profession.

Perhaps, today would be the day he found out. Now that their relationship was feeling more serious, Talia had finally decided she would introduce her boyfriend to her parents, and the rest of her family. It had taken some convincing for her to do it, but her father had been adamant that meeting and evaluating any of her potential husbands was necessary.

"What if they're not worthy?" He had insisted, pacing back and forth in urgency. "What if they plan to spy on you, or hurt you, or are simply a failure? Besides, my Dear Daughter, what's the issue with him meeting us? Please, tell me you're not seriously acting embarrassed of your own family at this age." Ra's stopped to look at her, a disappointed look on his face.

"I-" Talia hadn't wanted to upset him, or even worse, make her view her as immature. She sighed, "Fine, but please…. try to stay calm with him. Be understanding if he's not quite up to your qualifications of worthy, and…. Just try not to kill him, okay? You can be very overwhelming, and although he's a very nice man, he's not used to murderers." She had tried to put it lightly, but truthfully, she wanted to yell the list of commands in his face. It was ridiculous -absolute ludicrous- that she had to tell him such simple things.

"Of course, Daughter. Whatever makes you most comfortable." Ra's smiled at her, and leaned in to kiss the top of her head affectionately. Yet again, she was reminded by why she had spared his feelings, but quickly forgot it as he spoke again. "But you can't truly expect me to hide my whole personality, can you? I'll try to make sure there's minimal stabbing at the family dinner that night, but you can only expect so much of me."

Talia had stared at him, with her eyes squinted with concern, but she pushed a smile on her face regardless. "J- Just do your best, Father. Thank you." The minute she had gotten out of the room, though, her smile immediately dropped. She let out a huge, tired, sigh. She loved her family, but sometimes she just wished they could hold their murderous instincts in for a moment.

Now, as her and Bruce inched towards the door, Talia felt that wish more than she ever had before. Even if Bruce was nervous, thinking of the times Talia had mentioned her Father being strict, controlling, and painfully traditional, he was nothing compared to Talia. She flinched every few moments. Her every instinct told her to lead Bruce away, to come up with an excuse, but it was too late now. She gulped. Maybe, if she had the best luck in the world, her father would only talk about his Endangered-Species-Saving Programs, and not his Murder-Most-Humans program.

But when Bruce looked down at her, he felt a sense of excitement. He surely hadn't heard the best things from Talia about her family, but if they have raised someone as wonderful as Talia, he was sure they couldn't be too bad. He knew they may not have the most similarities, but wasn't caring about Talia the most important similarity of all?

Despite his slight optimism, inside the Al Ghul house, not everyone was on their best behavior. Screams echoed through the dining room as everyone got settled down. Nyssa and Ra's, specifically, were the ones having the heated argument. Heated arguments were not uncommon for them, so much that no one had any clue why she was even invited to the family dinners. She didn't even consider herself part of that family, but Ra's was convinced that it was such a special moment, no one could miss it. His little girl has her first boyfriend! Inevitably, he lived to regret this decision.

"You're a dirty excuse for a father, Ra's! You left me to fend for myself when I needed you most!" Nyssa yelled, standing up from her chair. Her breath was heavy with rage. "You should be ashamed of yourself!" She quickly picked up her fork, throwing it as hard as she could in Ra's' face.

"No, you should be ashamed of yourself! You're the one that betrayed me, before I had done a thing to you!" Ra's screamed back, throwing the fork aside. Fortunately for Ra's, the fork hadn't done any damage. He quickly pulled himself out of his seat to balance the dominance in their positions. "Everything that happened was your own fault, so stop pushing the blame on to me just because I blatantly decided you weren't worth saving from torture!" Unaware of how bad that sounded, he picked up the fork again and threw it back at her.

They continued throwing things at each other, screaming endlessly. The danger of the things thrown escalated as they went. At first it was simply things like forks and spoons, things that wouldn't do too much damage. But it started getting worse, and worse…..

Outside, at least Bruce was getting some kind of a warning. Talia stopped him just before he opened the door, turning him to face her. She stared at him, a glint of dead seriousness in her eyes.

"Beloved, you are not ready to meet my family. You never will be. They're a lot to deal with." She warned. Talia's hands gripped his shoulders even harder than a villain does when threatening a hero. "Every single one of my family members is weird. Very, very weird. A bit absurd, even. Albeit a nice guy, you're also only a simple billionaire, so it's definitely going to get on your nerves. They even get on my nerves, they-"

Bruce gently tugged her arms off of her, "Talia, I can handle it. I'm not a judgemental guy, I swear. It's fine if they're a little weird." His face rested in a blank, -but more importantly, not a horrified or angry- expression. "Come on, let's go inside. They're probably waiting for us." He pointed towards the door, beginning to open it. Talia, still frazzled, immediately swung her arms over to stop him from opening it.

"Please, Beloved, you don't understand! It's not a difference in culture, tastes, or even opinions! I swear on my life… they're crazy." She stared into his eyes. Her pupils were huge, and her hands were shaky as she held him back. "I don't care if you don't believe me, but just… promise you won't blame me for them?" Talia looked down desperately. Her words slowed for a moment.

"Of course," Bruce nodded, but before she could even communicate her gratitude, he abruptly swung the door open. "I've told you a million times, though, I'm sure I won't even be blaming them! You're worr-" The second he took his eyes off of Talia, and on to the room in front of them, his mouth dropped. Every word he said about it being fine was regretted almost immediately. It was so very, very, not fine.

Bruce had looked just quick enough to see Nyssa cross a final line with the throwing… a full, sharp, assassin knife. It shot directly into, and right through, Ra's' guts. Blood dripped down his stomach area and onto his shirt and cape. Ra's looked down at the injury for a moment, before quickly realizing that Talia and her boyfriend had officially arrived.

"Look what you've done now, Nyssa!" Ra's scolded, pointing to Bruce angrily. "Our guest has arrived, and you've done this right in front of him! Look at him, so startled at your audacity to stab me that he can't seem to speak…. Congratulations, you've embarrassed the whole family!" Bruce couldn't seem to listen to Ra's, with his eyes stuck on his stomach. Blood kept spilling out of it, yet Ra's hardly seemed to mind.

"...Are you okay?" Bruce took a slow, hesitant step towards the dinner table. His eyes were as wide as he thought they could go. "Shouldn't someone call an ambulance? You're bleeding out!" With the pure shock of it all starting to fade, he whipped out his phone and started navigating to the dialer.

Now dripping even more blood on the ground, Ra's pranced over to the front door to greet Bruce. "No, no, no! Don't mind my other daughter's ill manors. She's never well-behaved anymore, I'm afraid. But you're the guest, you shouldn't worry about this. Just sit down and relax." He led Bruce over to his seat, nudging him to sit down onto it. Ra's turned his stomach away from the chair to be sure he didn't get any little drops of blood on it. As he made his way back to his own seat, he gestured towards his stab wound. "If you'll excuse me, I'm going to have to get changed and cleaned up. I'm afraid this stab wound has created quite a mess."

Still recovering from the shock of the stabbing, Bruce attempted to reason with him, "But don't you need to get medica-" Before he could even finish his sentence, though, Ra's was already out of the room and down the hallway. As hard as Ra's had tried to keep the floor from too much damage, there were still drips of blood every few feet. Bruce considered following them to make sure he was okay, but quickly realized that with all the servants here, at least one person would help.

Talia sat down next to him, surprisingly unstartled by her own father's stabbing, "Try not to worry too much about it, Beloved. This happens a lot -sometimes even ending in the opposite- and as you can see, it has never resulted in his -or even Nyssa's- death. Oh, and don't worry for your own life, the stabbing is very personal. I doubt Nyssa thinks you have enough of a connection with him to be worth hurting." She explained matter-of-factly. Her hand gently reached over to pat his hand, in an attempt to sooth him.

"Okay… I just, I don't want you to lose him. I don't want you to feel the same pain of losing your parents as I did…" His voice quivered at the thought of his own parent's tragic murder. Talia nodded, understanding his pain, but in no way attempting to agree with him.

"As I've said before, don't worry. I'm afraid my mother already died when I was a child, and her death frightened me, but him? No, no, no, he's quite the survivor. He's survived so many ridiculous situations, in fact, I believe he's practically immortal!" She exclaimed the strong statement, seeming a bit excited, but not quite cheerful. Seeing the statement as a casual joke, Bruce laughed nervously. Talia did not laugh with him, though. To his discomfort, she stared at him, just as dead-serious as she was with her original warning.

The sound of her father's pattering footsteps knocked them both out of their odd conversation. Ra's entered the room, his blood now nowhere in sight. Despite how formal the arrangement was supposed to be, he was shirtless. A new shirt, looking very similar to the one he was wearing when Bruce arrived, was tucked under his arm.

As Ra's started pulling the shirt on, Bruce noticed something. The place where the stab wound had been just a moment ago was perfectly visible, with no clothes covering it, and yet it just… wasn't there anymore. Certainly no blood, but not even any bandages, or any kind of scar! The only thing in the victim's gut area was skin. Pure, undamaged, skin. Talia's family was starting to seriously freak Bruce out.

Once Ra's had gotten his upper-half dressed, he promptly began making his more formal greeting to Bruce, "I'm afraid, with all that chaos, I never got the chance to introduce myself! I'm Ra's Al Ghul, Talia's father. You can call me Ra's…. At least as long as I haven't found you unworthy of casual nicknames." He narrowed his eyes, scaring away any joy in Bruce for the moment. "...And you are…? I'm afraid I don't think Talia's mentioned your name."

"I'm Bruce… um, Bruce Wayne." Bruce stuttered, trying to shake away the strong sense of uncomfort Ra's was starting to give him. Ra's smiled politely, and shook his hand.

"Welcome to our home, Bruce… Or Mr. Wayne, whatever you prefer to be called." He gestured to the grand mansion they were having dinner in. Having had enough of leaning over to be eye-to-eye with Bruce, he slumped back down onto his chair. His grand, collared, cape got thrown back in the process.

"..Bruce is fine," Bruce answered, still a bit nervous. Ra's nodded at him. Surrounded by a thick layer of eyeliner, his eyes seemed to stare into Bruce's soul. Bruce hated to judge someone for their clothing style, but the way Ra's dressed was certainly off for a meet-the-family type dinner. In fact, with the gold button on his cloak looking eerily like a demon's face, he was practically dressed like a supervillain.

Everyone began eating the food in peace. Nyssa did not try to stab anyone during that time, and neither did Ra's. It was pure silence at the dinner table, with everyone focusing purely on their plates instead of making conversation. Eventually, Ra's finally brought his head up from it and started speaking to Bruce.

"So… You want to marry my daughter?" Ra's asked, looking at Bruce sternly. His eyes carefully moved up and down, evaluating every single part of Bruce to see how worthy it was. He squinted at Bruce's jacket, his shoes, his expression… everything. As much as Bruce tried to seem calm and collected for Ra's, both the sudden assumption of marriage and the intense staring were only making him feel subconscious.

Fortunately, Talia immediately cleared it up, "We haven't even spoken about marriage yet, Father! Please, you're going to overwhelm him. Didn't I already tell you not to do this?" She pleaded. Talia gulped, just as she had been doing consecutively for this entire dinner. Watching her father act this way always felt a bit off, but having her boyfriend there just made it so much worse. She could easily feel what Bruce was feeling, -or at least what she thought he was- and she knew it was far from positive. Talia looked back down at her plate, hiding her face as it turned bright red. She didn't think she'd ever felt quite this embarrassed in her entire life.

"I apologize, but you do realize, Talia, that if you ever want your relationship to go anywhere you must marry him at some point. How long have you two been dating, again?" Ra's looked back at Bruce, waiting for him to finally speak for himself.

Bruce took a deep breath, "Somewhere around 6 months? Or possibly 7, it's hard to get it exact." Ra's raised an eyebrow at the number.

"You two… have not even been thinking about marriage yet? Let me tell you, every single one of my marriages has always started with a month -at most- of prior dating, and I have had at least one perfectly good marriage. You all remember Sora, may she rest in peace, and we had the happiest of marriages. Yet, we married out of convenience! We hardly knew each other! Sometimes, you young ones must just let-" Ra's rambled, only to be cut off by Talia sighing. The gush of air was so loud and obviously exasperated that it completely cut off his story. After a second or two of silence, he continued despite it, "As I was saying, sometimes you young ones need to understand that dating isn't going to secure a marriage. A good attitude will! Both Sora and I had a good attitude, and she managed to be the light of my life. But of course, that only lasted so-"

This time, Talia simply used her words to stop him, "-So long because she got strangled to death in front of your eyes. We all know, Father, and frankly I don't think Bruce needs to know your life story. Why can't we just talk about something a bit more.. Conventional? We already talk about murder and death so much, can't we just lighten up a bit?" She begged, biting her lip uncomfortably. Her eyes looked at Ra's softly, almost as if she was attempting to do puppy eyes.

"Fine, fine, I really should get to the point, anyhow. We must tell if he is worthy enough to even date you! Only the finest in the lands are worthy of you, my darling, and so far I doubt he's up to that standard." Ra's scoffed, and Bruce couldn't help but roll his eyes in return. Talia looked down again, rubbing her temples. She was just about ready to fall asleep on her father's nonsense. "Hmmm…." Not paying any attention to his daughter's misery, he stared into Bruce's eyes for what must have been the fifth time.

"He's…. Very….. Wealthy…." Talia stated. Each word was separated by a ton of sighs, groans, and deep breaths of frustration. Even as she spoke to her father, she kept her eyes locked down on her plate, in a painful stare. Ra's rested his chin on his hand as he considered her words. He looked side to side, while tilting his head every which way in correspondence.

"Well… I suppose a bit of extra money surely isn't hurting his worthiness." Ra's titled his head one last time, glancing up at Bruce from a different angle. Slowly, he adjusted his head back to normal. His arms were lightly touching down on the table, propping up his hands to wrap their fingers in between the other one. Ra's leaned forward, with his face now less than a foot in front of his hands. "But… you can already get as much of that as you'd ever possibly need from me. Worthiness, you see, is about much more than that. It's about the intelligence. The skill. The strength. The willpower…. The grace." His index fingers, now pointing up from the rest of his hands, tapped against each other. Each tap was methodical, rhythmic… like the ticking of a clock, clacking each second away.

Bruce felt a cold, thick, drop of sweat roll down his forehead, "I… I once took an IQ test. Mine is… higher than normal. Quite a bit higher, I believe." He picked up his napkin and quickly wiped the sweat off, attempting to push a smile onto his face. Or, just some sign of confidence, at the very least. Unfortunately, he was just a billionaire -and not a very emotionally-mature billionaire at that- so it wasn't exactly helping his case.

"Good. That's very good…." Ra's nodded approvingly. His index fingers tapped together again each time his head bopped up and down. Finally looking up from her plate, Talia started to smile, a glint of hope in her eyes. "But if you really have such an impressive intelligence quotient, you better start acting like it. Hit it where it really counts, not just some meaningless quiz. If you want to receive my daughter's hand in marriage, you will prove yourself worthy of such a thing in real life." His head's nodding quickly came to a stop.

Talia sighed again, but didn't even try to bother stopping it. Her mind was much more focused on the worse tests she reckoned would come after… the ones her beloved, as wonderful and skilled as he was, was still bound to fail. She glanced up at Bruce, noticing how wet his forehead looked. Her warnings had not done a thing, as even now, he was acting as if this was a big problem in comparison to the other thing her father most valued.

As she silently brooded, Ra's began to start his opportunity for Bruce to prove his intelligence, "Bring. It. In!" His voice boomed through the room as he looked at his assassins servants expectantly. To his dismay, they all simply stared at him, waiting for some more clarification. Their eyes blinked unknowingly. Ra's cringed at his servant's lack of understanding. "I said, bring. It. In!" Yet again, he got nothing brought in at all. A long, exasperated sigh, -almost as heavy as Talia's had been all night- escaped his mouth.

One of the servants, still unsure what to do but eager to help, went over and stood by his side. The servant bowed, but didn't dare ask for clarification. Not wanting to anger the master, the servant made sure to be patient and let Ra's have time to explain himself.

Ra's turned directly towards the closest servant, looking him in the eyes desperately, "You know, it. The thing. The one you should be bringing in right now. Whipping up out of nowhere." The servant nodded, but continued to wait for even more of an explanation. Ra's waved his hand in front of the person, unsure if they were even listening. "Come on! Get to it! Bring. IT. IN….. Ah, forget it! I was really hoping I wasn't going to have to ruin the suspense and the drama like this, but the chess board! The one I always pull out dramatically when attempting to test whether I should respect someone! The grand assessment!"

"Ohhhhh…." The servant slowly nodded. They spun on their heels, beginning to make their way off to get the chess board. Every breath Ra's took was long and agitated, gushing out like the wind as he watched the servant disappear into the next room.

He turned back towards Bruce, "I apologize for that mishap. It seems I really should just keep my chess board nearby in these kinds of situations, but I promise you, my assassins did say they'd have it handy." He scoffed at their incompetence. Bruce, on the other hand, was a bit more focused on another thing. He stared at Ra's, his eyebrows furrowing.

If this family wasn't already freaking him out, they certainly were now, "A… Assassi-?!"

But before he even got to finish expressing his frantic confusion, Ra's quickly interrupted him. These 'assassins' of his were back, now with the chessboard that he desired so badly. Ra's rapidly swiped the chessboard out of their hands and slapped it down in front of the two of them.

"Finally, we can begin!" He exclaimed, a tint of annoyance still in his voice. He turned back towards his assassins for a moment, gritting his teeth. "We'll talk about this whole 'ruining my drama' thing later. All of you." Ra's pointed at his own two eyes with two of his fingers, and then pointed the fingers back down on the League of Assassins members.

"And I think we need to talk about this whole assassi-!?" Still more focused on the other matter at hand, he persisted in attempting to get some kind of explanation. But yet again, Ra's was simply not listening.

"You may go first. It's only fair that the guest gets privileges. Besides, I think you'll need every advantage you can get when playing with someone who's been playing this game for centuries." Ra's pointed to Bruce's end of the board, waiting. Bruce's lips quivered as he stared at it. From the corner of his eye, he watched as Ra's folded his hands together calmly. "Go on,"

Bruce chuckled nervously, "You're exaggerating… right?" His finger slowly inched towards the board as he thought about his first move. It was a strategy game, and Bruce was good at such games, but the claims Ra's was stating were more than intimidating. He bit his tongue, thinking back to all the games he'd won against Alfred.

"Exaggerating? Oh, hardly." Ra's shrugged, "You see, young man, this game has been going on far beyond even an old man like me's lifetime. I've been playing it for a long time, and I haven't gotten bored. But I have, as a matter of fact, learned many, many, strategies. I'd find it incredible for this to even last more than 30 minutes before you lose." Bruce leaned towards the board in concentration, attempting to ignore the chills running down his spine.

After what felt like forever of them playing chess, Talia finally saw an ending as she looked at the chess board. All of Bruce's pieces were blocked, in some way or another. She sighed in relief. Not only was this game not going to last forever, but her boyfriend wasn't even going to lose.

"It seems we've ended with a stalemate…" Ra's grinned at the outcome. He pulled out a clipboard from under the table, scribbling down the points this gave Bruce. Quickly tucking the clipboard back under the table, a look of awe sparkled in his eyes. "This is… incredible. Quite entertaining, actually! I haven't had a good opponent like this in years! Decades, even… if not centuries!" Bruce smirked, a sense of confidence raining over him. Talia rolled her eyes. She had certainly stalemated with Ra's at least once.

"Good, but now, can we please focus back on the fact that you called these… people around us... assassins?!" Bruce shook off the pride as he finally remembered the eerie mention. Talia's face flopped back down to face her plate. Her breaths were thin and short as she held back the urge to stand up and run straight out of this embarrassment.

"I did, didn't I...? Is that a problem? Did I offend you with that term?" Her father's voice rose. Despite the innocent questions, he fought back the urge to roll his eyes or scoff yet again in annoyance. "Would you prefer them to be called ninjas, murderers, or simply 'the people around us'? …..You're the guest."

"Murdere-?!" Bruce leaned back, unsure how to even say such a terrifying word. His mouth dropped open as his eyes anxiously darted back and forth. "These people are really… actual….." Talia reached over to Bruce, squeezing his hand.

"Are you alright, Beloved?" Talia asked. Her hand was warm, or possibly even a bit fever-ish to the touch. As was her cheeks, so very red with nerves. Bruce stared at her face, observing the not only embarrassed, but almost shameful expression smeared across it. A thought suddenly occurred to him… a quite unnerving, but eerily plausible one.

Bruce sighed, "...yes," He muttered through gritted teeth. Talia's shoulders slouched down, feeling her tense muscles relax at the reassurance. Bruce turned back towards Ra's, pouting his lip in a disapproving frown. "But… I don't want to stay here any longer than I have to. Let's get on with it, Ra's." Talia's muscles tensed right back up.

"Very well then, young man," Ra's aggressively shoved the chess board to the side. He pushed himself up from his seat, pulling out a sword that he had apparently been hiding in his pockets. "The next test is all about your ability to fight. Not only do I expect you to protect my daughter if the need comes up, but you also must be capable of winning wars if you want to win my daughter's love."

Talia pulled herself up from her seat, as well, "He already has my love, though, Father! No offense, but your tests and evaluations are all for yourself, and yourself only. We've already dated for long enough that it's ridiculous to act as if we aren't already in a romantic relationship." She crossed her arms, starting to get seriously fed up with her father's absurd behavior.

"Yes, yes, of course. But if you want me to treat you as my son-in-law, much less, my equal, you need to complete this test. It's about the respect! You've already shown competence in a battle of wits, now you must show you are just as skilled in physical battles for me to respect you." Ra's pointed his sword towards Bruce, making a stabbing motion towards the air. Bruce flinched as the sharp blade reached towards his chest. "Go on, get your blade out. This may not be a duel to the death -since Talia did go out of her way to make me promise I wouldn't stab you- but it's still a battle that you need to be prepared for."

"My… blade?" Bruce raised one of his eyebrows in confusion. He shook his head and squinted his eyes at Ra's. "I was just trying to go to a formal dinner, to meet my girlfriend's family. Why. Would. I. Have. a. Sword. With. Me?!" After having to listen to Ra's constantly scoff throughout the dinner, he finally managed to gather the courage to scoff back.

"You must always be prepared, young man. Always. You are obviously immature. You know strategies, but you lack the true wisdom to use them properly. But, I suppose that is only to be expected with your young age, so…. I will still give you a chance." Ra's slid his sword back into his pocket. His lips rested in a strict frown, but began to curve up ever so slightly for a moment. "Besides, you already stale-mated me. I love a good stalemate! I can't believe I found someone who could achieve such an outcome! You're wonderful, Bruce. Just wonderful… Assassins, get him a sword!"

Bruce could only stare as a woman, dressed in all black attire, handed him her sword. He opened his mouth to reject it, but only a small, frantic, l uttering sound sputtered out. Everyone, including Talia, Nyssa, the assassins, and a man who's name hadn't been mentioned yet, stepped back, leaving Bruce and Ra's alone. Bruce slowly wrapped his hands around the handle of his weapon, still adjusting to the odd feeling of holding such a sharp object in his hand. By the time he realized what was happening around him, it was much too late to eat his last bite of food.

In fact, it was too late to even stretch before the battle. Ra's, who was seemingly having enough of Bruce's shock, was already lunging over. His sword slashed at Bruce's. With Bruce's fingers barely even holding on to it, Bruce's sword immediately got flung to the ground upon feeling any kind of impact.

Clang! The metal blade chimed as it hit the hard floor. The sound instantaneously knocked Ra's out of his intense battle-focus. His teeth were not gritted anymore, and his eyes widened from their stern glaring. He looked down at the stray weapon, then back up to Bruce. Now realizing what had happened, Bruce's face turned red. A tiny spray of sweat appeared on his forehead as he looked down with embarrassment.

"With all due respect, I have never had a weaker or less skillful opponent." Ra's blinked at the pathetic sight, shaking his head. He bent down to the ground and picked up the sword. The woman who it belonged to eagerly reached out to take it from him. Ra's turned back towards Bruce, who gulped as he saw the disappointment in his eyes. "I suppose I should've expected this kind of thing from such an average billionaire, although that chess game had sure gotten me hopeful. I mean god, was that a good game!" Ra's mumbled, holding back a smile.

Bruce sighed, "Let me guess, you want me to never date or even speak to your daughter again." He looked back at Talia, his shoulders slumping at the thought of leaving someone so lovely. But almost just as quickly, his shoulders pulled back up again. "Because if I may just say, this is completely unwarranted! You could've at least given me a warning about this nonsense…"

"You.. have a point." Ra's nodded, "Which is why I haven't completely ruled you out. That chess game still proves your utter excellency in nature, so perhaps it is rather cruel to blame you for this one time. But-"

Out of pure instinct, Bruce punched Ra's in the gut and kicked him to the floor. Ra's quickly jumped back up and dusted himself off, hardly bothered physically. But mentally, he was shocked. Talia ran to her father's side to make sure he was alright.

"Why would you do that, Beloved?" She yelled at Bruce. With Ra's obviously unarmed, she took a step towards her boyfriend. "You already weren't doing very well on his evaluations, so how do you think attacking him is going to help you?"

"I've proved I can defeat him." Bruce narrowed his eyes, still confident in his reckless behavior. Talia sighed, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. "He was doubting my ability to fight, but I've proved that I'm perfectly capable of throwing a punch or two. Since he's so obsessed with my fighting, it should help me be 'worthy' or whatnot." He crossed his arms.

Ra's rested his forehead against his hand, facepalming, "Yes, you got me on the ground for a bit, but at what cost? Ambushing may be a great strategy, and I already admitted you knew many strategies, but what kind of true warrior would use it on his own friend!?" He snapped. His large boots rattled as he stomped his foot on the ground. "A little agitation and frustration towards me does not take away the fact that you never declared us at war!" He began to stomp back to his seat at the dinner table.

"For goodness sakes, you're really going to lecture me about my morals when you've got a freaking assassin cult surrounding us!?" Bruce yelled back in return, "In my defense, when I see assassins, it really seems like anything I do would be in self-defense… Even if you weren't currently attacking me…" He argued. Every sense of nervousness had spiraled into anger.

"Exactly, we never attacked you except for a formal, well-mannered, spa-"

"Shut up! Can't you both just agree to disagree?!" Now shaking from frustration, Talia finally let her voice really rise and scream at them both. She tugged Bruce back to the table, and motioned for them both to sit down. "Apparently you're both a bit crazy, but two different kinds of crazy that apparently don't mix. I just- I just want this dinner to not be the worst experience of all of our lives…." As she settled back down into her own chair, her voice began to lower again.

Bruce and Ra's both begrudgingly nodded. Everyone's muscles began to relax, and their breaths were much slower and calmer. The ticks of an old clock clacked in the background as everyone went back to eating calmly. After a few minutes of peaceful silence, a soft conversation began again.

"I don't think you two ever introduced yourselves." Bruce pointed to another man and woman who were seated at the table with them. They had been simply watching and speculating as him and Ra's did their shenanigans. "You're Nyssa, right?" He pointed to the woman who had stabbed Ra's not long ago.

"Yes, and it's been quite amusing to watch him be kinder to you than he is to me." Nyssa sent him a cold glare across the table. He shuttered. "I'm Talia's older sister… or technically half sister, but you get the point."

Ra's quickly took up the introductions once she was finished, "Yes, yes, she's my other daughter. Much older than Talia, but nowhere near as wonderful." He smiled at Talia, who blushed uncomfortably. Being the favorite was better than being the least favorite, but it could certainly be embarrassing, too. Ra's turned towards Dusan, "He's… my son? I think. I'm sorry, it's been a long time since his birth, so I sometimes forget it even happened! His name is… hmm… I'm fairly sure it starts with a C…"

"It's Dusan, Father. It doesn't even start with a C…" The man corrected. He sighed at his father's forgetfulness. Ra's titled his head at Dusan, displeased at the answer. His expression was questionable, with an eyebrow raised, like he was about to question Dusan on his own name. Dusan sighed even deeper.

"I… supposed that's his name, then…" Ra's gave in, his tone still indicating his lack of certainty on the matter. He looked Dusan in the eyes, making direct eye contact, "But don't call me Father! You're hardly my son if I can't even remember my name." Dusan returned the eye contact with a look of sadness and disappointment.

"If it makes you feel any better, Dusan, I still consider you my big brother." Talia stated, smiling towards him shyly. Dusan shook off the eye contact with Ra's to send a bitter glare back to his younger sister.

"Oh really? Like I care, Favorite! One day, he's going to realize that I'm the better child and you're going to be forsaken considering how much trouble you've caused him!" Dusan scowled at Talia. She groaned, but stayed quiet in an attempt to avoid another embarrassing argument.

"Don't you dare speak to your superior that way!" Despite her silence, Ra's was far from quiet. He immediately looked back towards Bruce as he finished speaking. His speech was completely polite to Bruce now, as if the spontaneous attack had never even happened. "I apologize for his foul behavior, Bruce. It seems that sometimes immature children will act out if you forget to treat them kindly."

"Um… okay." Bruce squinted at Ra's, concerned but still confused. He was still certain that despite the uncalled-for attack, Ra's was still indefinitely the crazier one. But of course, in an effort to not upset Talia, Bruce kept this thought to himself. "I… suppose you must have another test for me, right?"

"Of course! Even though your manners aren't the very best, I will admit you did get me on the ground for a bit there, so… I still haven't counted you out. With a little teaching, you could be a very worthy man." Ra's complimented, "I'd just like to ask you a few questions, to get a grip of your personality just a bit better." He explained, pushing his food to the side.

"Go ahead," Bruce said. Despite his encouraging words, though, he was frowning in utter disinterest. He slowly pushed his food to the side to clear a path between them. Ra's pointed to Bruce before he asked the first question.

"How do you feel about the environment? More specifically, the planet. Innocent animals made endangered by man-made devices and pollution!" Ra's began. He eagerly stretched his hand over to grab a nearby globe, pulling it into his clutches. His thick, strong, fingers spun it nonchalantly.

Bruce thought about the question for a moment, "I feel bad for the animals. Since I have so much money, I've donated tons to helping them, and I feel the environment is a very important cause. I will admit I haven't done a ton of work with it myself, though…" He answered the question as truthfully as possible, figuring it probably wasn't too important.

"That's good… although I would appreciate a bit more enthusiasm for such an important cause." Ra's nodded, quickly moving on to the next question. "How about… murder? Assuming there's a good cause for it, of course."

Bruce froze, "Do I… do I have to answer truthfully?" He whispered into Talia's ear. She nodded, pointing towards her father. With a couple of her fingers pressed up to her neck, she made a cut-throat gesture. Bruce shuttered and shook at such a threatening signal, even if it was more of a simple warning. "I think it's horrible. One of the worst crimes imaginable. I would never commit it, even if it cost me my life. I don't think there's any excuse for taking another human being's life, no matter what that human being has done."

Ra's frowned at the blunt response, "But what if it saved other lives? The animals, which we've hurt so much with pollution's lives, perhaps?" He argued, continuing to spin his globe fidgetly. His eyes peered down at the bright blue paint, thinking of the dolphins, fish, seals, and whales that all inhabited that precious space. The space humans were constantly taking over, with their plastic, machinery, and oil spills. To Ra's, such horrid actions seemed surely worthy of the death penalty.

"I said no," Bruce shook his head stubbornly. "No one deserves to die, period. I'm not going to be persuaded on this." He glared at Ra's, starting to get more and more confident by the minute. Ra's glowered right back at him.

Talia sighed, "You know, Beloved… You didn't have to be this blunt about it." She leaned her head on chin on her hand wearily. Her eyes began to close softly, having no energy left after all the messes that had gone on. "I just didn't want you making up something too-good-to-be-true…."

Bruce rolled his eyes, "Well maybe I want to be blunt-"

"Well, I'd like to remind you that my father isn't exactly the person you want to upset!" She gestured back towards all the highly-trained assassins surrounding them. Every single one had belts with an arsenal of weapons tucked inside, and half of them had enough muscles to take down most people without the help of the weapons. "Only a fool would mess with such a man. After months of dating you, I hope I am not misled when I say you're not that much of an idiot."

Bruce gulped, immediately realizing his mistake, "I…. I'm sorry, Mr. Al Ghul." He looked back at Ra's nervously. He quickly tightened his tie and fixed his posture, hoping even that small of a change could make a difference. . . Whether that difference was a matter of life or death, or simply whether Talia and him were allowed to keep dating.

"You know... '' Ra's considered his options, peering at Bruce judgmentally. "That kind of rebelness does show courage, if you squint. I'll be fair and say it's bound to come in handy at some point in your life… so, I have decided that you two may keep dating. From what I've heard, you make my daughter happy, so I suppose I'd feel bad being too judgemental." He smiled at Talia. Getting up from his seat, he wandered around the table to kiss her forehead lovingly.

Despite the loving gesture, though, Talia was much more focused on the wonderful news this meant for her and Bruce. The minute her father was done giving her the kiss, she ran over to Bruce and hugged him. Bruce wrapped his hands around her as well, squeezing her against him.

"Thank you, Father," Talia turned back towards Ra's for a split second before leaning back into Bruce's hug. She rested her cheek against him affectionately. "You're alive. I can't believe you're still alive. Everyone's still alive…." She smiled, tilting her to the left to peck him on the cheek.

"Yes.. although I will admit it's a bit sad that we even questioned that.. Not that we didn't have the right to." Bruce glared at Nyssa and Ra's bitterly. Fortunately, they were both looking the opposite way. He really had to stop doing so much of this rebellious, impolite, glaring at those he was attempting to make fond of him. "But more importantly, we get to stay together! I knew I had made the right move by attacking your father." He smirked.

"Sure you did," Talia's smile twisted into a smirk along with his, "There's a reason he didn't kill you, though, Beloved. You were wonderful… and the stalemate? That's more than impressive. It took me my entire childhood of playing chess with him to start being able to get those! You're so intelligent, and brave, and… well, I'm just very glad I fell in love with someone as wonderful as you. Even if you did punch my Father." Her eyes softened for a moment, now taken over by a bittersweet gaze.

"...Thank you," Bruce smiled softly back to her, but it was quickly taken over by a more solemn, concerned, expression. "Can we talk outside for a moment, Talia? After all this, I think there's a lot we need to go over… privately." He nudged her out of the comfy hug.

Talia's smile immediately dropped, "Of… course," She stuttered, now remembering that Bruce had just learned tons of secrets in this one evening. Her head turned slightly back towards Ra's, "Please excuse us for a moment." Taking Bruce's hand, Talia led him outside to a nearby courtyard.

Once they got there, Bruce let out a long, painfully loud, groan. He flopped down onto one of the benches drowsily. Talia sat down with him, letting out a smaller groan herself. They sat there, with all masks and forced smiles dropped for an awkward minute or two. Their eyes were closed for the most of it, only flickering open every few seconds.

"I assume you want to break up with me, anyway." Talia finally spoke, her words slow and quiet above the peeps of nearby crickets. She stared straight down at the ground, neglecting to blink or let the aching tears stream out of her eyes. Bruce slowly looked up at her. Both their heads were still dropping forwards for the most part, but he peered at her from the corner of his eye. Another gap of silence stood between them before he finally opened his mouth to answer her question.

"...No, not necessarily." Bruce finally answered. He looked back down at his lap, avoiding any kind of eye contact. Her chin twitched upwards at the good news. But as he spoke again, Talia's chin lowered. "But… out of curiosity, if I did, would your father kill me?"

"Well… yes, probably." Her skirt gently flew up, caught in the airy breeze. She breathed in and out, as slow and soft as the wind. Bruce bit his lip, pouting ever so slightly. He swallowed in consideration. "But I would try my best to stop it from happening, Beloved. As much as it would ache me, I would never want you to die, of course. …..You could fake your own death." She suggested, finally lifting her chin enough to really look at him.

Bruce flinched, but kept his head down, "I'd… rather not do that." A muffled groan escaped his lips. Talia's lips quivered at the uncomfortable sound. Her head dropped again, spinning towards the opposite direction. As she turned away, Bruce continued thinking over his options. Everything felt wrong, but somehow right in an odd way. They sat in silence for another couple minutes as he fell deep into his thoughts.

"You promised," Talia suddenly blurted out. Tears had begun to well up in the corners of her eyes. She continued to look away from him, hiding the weak, desperate look on her face. "You promised you wouldn't blame me for them….. You promised." Her voice was careful as she attempted to keep her tone as calm as possible.

Bruce nodded, "You're right," He stated. For a second, but only for a second, did his voice crack into a much shakier tone. It pained him to look at her, to hear her faltering voice, and most of all, to know that she hadn't truly done a thing. At least, as far as he knew. "Your father's a criminal. The leader of a league dedicated to murder. So, with that knowledge in mind…. How many people have you murdered?"

Talia gulped, "You- You don't want to know." She shook her head shamefully. Bruce winced at the cold, gut-wrenching answer. "You and I both know you don't truly want to hear the answer to that question." She repeated. Talia pressed her eyes closed, letting tears seep out out and on to her trembling cheeks. Bruce was going to go. She was sure of it.

"Why…? Why would you-" Bruce stuttered. He finally fully lifted his head to face the apparent-murderer. Talia turned even farther away from him in response.

"Can't you see? My father is an ecoterrorist, Beloved. A mass-murderer. A genocidal maniac. I spent my entire childhood in his care… Of course I've killed for him!" Her voice rose a bit. Talia's eyes peered back at Bruce to see his reaction, but she didn't move a muscle in her neck to truly look at him. "I swear on my life, I didn't enjoy it. But I couldn't let him down. I still can't let him down. He's still my father, and… I can't betray my own family, can I?" She wrapped her arms around herself. A sad look sparkled in her eyes, almost mirroring the stars above them.

Bruce felt a tinge of anger run up his spine, "But…. you want to, don't you?" Talia's neck shook as her head flopped even closer to her lap. He moved his hand a bit closer to her, considering whether he should place it on her shoulder or not.

"Maybe I do," Talia whispered, her words barely audible. It was if she was simply mouthing them to herself. She squeezed her eyes shut as she spoke the tiny, quiet, little words. As she slowly opened them again, she gradually turned her head to finally face him. Their eyes met for a moment, "But maybe I don't. It's more complicated than that, Beloved ..." Her head still faced him, but her eyes broke out of the eye contact. They wandered in the opposite direction wistfully.

Bruce sucked in his lips, every muscle in his body cramping together. He resisted every urge in himself to touch her, hug her... or simply just reach a bit closer to hold hands. She was a murderer. He shouldn't have felt this way, he knew he shouldn't, but the urges were there. Bruce. Still. Loved. Her. It hurt to say the words inside his head, but not quite as much as it hurt to deny it. He kept his hand still, worried even a small vibration of movement could result in him fully wrapping his arms around Talia. But as he focused on stillness in his body, Bruce felt another hand reach over and squeeze his.

"All I know now, Beloved… is that I don't want to betray you." Talia looked straight at him now, adjusting her entire body to lean towards him. Bruce looked straight at her, as well. Her green eyes were glossy, with wet tears glistening in the moonlight. "We could still work out. My father actually seems to admire you, and I do, as well, but…. I'm not sure if you return such admiration…. After everything you've learned."

"You have a point," Bruce pushed himself off the bench. He began to tread forward, wandering around the courtyard. "I lose nothing from staying with you… except perhaps my lack of relations with murderers. It's not like I'm completely innocent myself. I may not have taken anyone's life, but I certainly started some fires against people who didn't completely deserve it. My poor math teacher…. Besides, I made a promise." He paced back and forth, gradually walking faster and faster|.

Talia sighed, "But that promise only included what my family did," She stood up with him. "They are my murders, not my-"

"Yes," He looked down for a moment, lost in thought yet again. His mouth rested in an aloof frown. Bruce's eyes narrowed. "But even then, it's more than clear you wouldn't be such a murderer if it weren't for where you were raised. Blaming you for such a thing could be considered breaking my promise either way." His hands spun up and down, gesturing as he explained his logic.

Talia's hand reached over to his, "Please… I'm not some kind of damsel in distress. I may have tears coming out of my eyes, and I may look pathetic right now, but…you still must make the choice that suits your heart. I don't want your pity." Her eyebrows arched, a stern focus taking over. Bruce's hands stopped twirling. A stillness crept over, with her hand just barely resting on his arm peacefully.

"-And I will not give you any, Talia," Bruce cleared his throat. Finally giving in to the undying urges, he wrapped his arms around her. Talia felt him pull her into a soft embrace. "Even through mistakes, and even, well... crimes, there is one thing standing. One thing other than pity- and that is love. It may make me crazy for doing so, or even a criminal, but I will give you mine."

"What does that even mean, though?" Talia asked, looking downwards. Her eyelids flapped up and down as she quickly blinked. "I… suppose it doesn't even matter, does it? Not now, anyhow… If you will give me your love, then I will give you mine." She quickly peeked back up, now with a wide smile across her face.

"I think we both know what that means, then… and what it doesn't." Bruce sighed, carefully taking a step back from Talia. Their loving embrace loosened. Talia's smile began to drop, but still not fully hit a frown. "I'm sorry. I… may have gotten lost in the fairytales there. Or maybe I was right. I'm not even sure anymore, Talia…"

Talia took deep breaths as she thought everything he was saying over, "You… you said thought we both knew what it meant… and what it didn't, of course. But perhaps…" Her hand, hesitant and unsure, began to slowly nudge him back towards her. Despite his overall reluctance, he easily let her lead him in the movement. "Perhaps for now… we can just focus on what it does mean, Beloved." She whispered the endearing nickname, a hopeful smile appearing on his face. Bruce couldn't help but smile back.

With their arms already wrapped tightly around each other, Talia slowly began to lean in for a kiss. Bruce closed his eyes, gently following her affectionate behavior. Both of their soft hugs towards the other one tightened even more as they leaned in close. The soft glow of the moon shimmered behind them as they finally kissed. Talia and Bruce held the other one happily. Happy. Even for just a moment, they were happy.

[myblueeyedbuggers]

My Boys

Chapter 13

Chapter 1  Chapter 2  Chapter 3  Chapter 4  Chapter 5  Chapter 6   Chapter 7  Chapter 8  Chapter 9  Chapter 10  Chapter 11  Chapter 12 Chapter 14

Pairings: Steve Rogers X Reader (Best Friend) Bucky Barnes X Reader

Word Count: 2063

Warnings:  Swearing, bit of violence if you looking very closely 

Summary: After being abandoned by her parents in Brooklyn in 1929, y/n makes a living for herself by working for the Црни лабуд gang until she meets two boys in a back alley and her life slowing begins to change.

Ey up my Loves, so we’re back and kicking ass! Quite literally in this Chapter, I’ve been going back over my previous chapters and I’m considering rewriting them to fit my new style. Let me know what you all think, do you prefer them as they are or would you want them to match my new style ? Anyways without further ado here's chapter 13, enjoy everyone! <3 

3rd person POV

Years have passed since that moment, time brought changes to the trio, what was once a childhood crush developed into a fierce love that neither of the pair wanted to acknowledge or admit in fear of loosing the other.

As you can imagine both Steve and Becca were ready to rip the heads off of their dumbass siblings.

6 years is a verrrry long time to put up with long looks of pining and repressed feelings, but unfortunately for the Brooklyn natives, y/n and bucky were about as stubborn as each other and refused to listen to the reasonable, sometimes frustrated, rants of their best friends. So much to the utter frustration of Steve and Becca, the two young lovebirds lived in a state of denial and attempted (the keyword being ATTEMPTED) to move on with their lives.

Naturally, someone as charming and handsome as James Barnes seemed to have a never-ending line of girls begging to be his, it had become a common occurrence for him to have a new girl on his arm each week, not that Steve or Y/n approved of his behaviour but hey Bucky can be a real big dumbass when he wants to be. Y/n did try to hide how much it bothered her, thankfully not only was Bucky a dumbass he was also completely unaware of her feelings and simply chalked it down to her being the unapproving sister, but to Steve it was a clear as day. He could see it in her face every time Bucky left to take the new girl dancing, or when she’d finish work early only to see Buck and his new girl on a romantic date in the Café opposite the dinner she worked at. The bright light behind her eyes always dimmed a little and she wouldn’t talk for hours, which for anyone that didn’t know her was enough to ring an ambulance and arrange a mental evaluation.

Now that’s not to say that Bucky was any better, the look of absolute utter rage that covered his face when another man called for Y/n was enough to make Steve and Becca completely loose it and simply laugh at his misery, neither of them felt bad because they’d been telling him for YEARS to man up and confess his feelings. Occasionally the pair did feel a slight twinge of guilt towards their brother, like the time the trio went to Y/n’s house to surprise her after work, only to see her kissing the cheek of a guy they’d never seen before, just like his other half Bucky did try to hide it, but the flash of pain that crossed his face was impossible to miss.

It’d gotten to the point where Steve wanted to lock em both in a closet til they finally admitted their feelings and put themselves out of their misery, though the fact that he had all the physical stats of a toothpick quickly nipped that idea in the bud.

Cut to today, for once it looked like it’d be a fairly normal day for everyone, boys were off doing god knows what, knowing those two it’d involve a punch up started by a small blonde idiot and finished by an even bigger idiot of a brunette. Though the same couldn’t be said about their girl, ever the more responsible one of them all Y/n had agreed to work overtime in the local dinner over on main street, meaning that she’d be the one closing the place down at 9pm.

Y/n didn’t even wanna think about what her two idiots would get up without proper adult supervision, though over the years she’d learned to expect that it would more than likely be something illegal.

Thankfully, it wasn’t something she had to worry about for the next couple of hours, though 9 times out of ten she’d be the one cleaning up the cuts and bruises only for them to come back the next day fresh wounds. As much as it did on occasion piss her off to no ends, Y/n wouldn’t want it any other way, they were and always will be her boys.

Y/N’s POV

Well, that was an absolute shit show of a day.

I mean you’d of thought that I was common knowledge not to put ya hands up a waitresses skirt, but nay some men didn’t seem to have got that memo, ever the public servant I made it my job to enlighten then with a hot cup of coffee to the crotch. How I’ve not received employee of the month is beyond me, what’s not to love ? I’m a fucking delight!

Thank god it’s home time, if I’da stayed in that place any longer something would of happened, knowing my crazy ass it’d of been something violent but in my defence….okay I don’t have a defence, but men can seriously suck ass when they wanna. All I wanna do is have a peaceful walk home, ignore the homeless guys that like to gawp at my ass and run a big old bubble bath whilst relaxing with a decent book.

Naturally, that didn’t happen.

Now, If ya spend as much time around a bunch of over aggressive monkeys that love jumping into fights as much as I do, you’ll probably get real good at recognising the sounds of a fight. And I’ve got a pretty good idea who the two dipshits are that started this pissing contest.

The sounds of shoes scuffling across the pavement were pretty much impossible to miss now, that along with the grunts and groans of a bunch of guys smacking the absolute shit outta each other tipped me off to what was happening around the corner. Everything in me screamed to carry on my merry way and let these morons sort out whatever beef they had in peace and believe me I was so close to ignoring it and walking past em, but it’s kinda hard to do that when ya hear ya best mate scream “come at me motherfuckers!”.

I couldn’t help the frustrated sigh that came outta my mouth but come on guys! This is the 5th one this week!

Very reluctantly I doubled back and went to help my idiotic boys out of whatever trouble they managed to get em selves into, and boy I’m glad that I did cause they were losing. Badly. It would seem that Steve’s request was met for them to “come at” him, cause one of em had him by the arms and was pummelling the life out of his small body, and Bucky wasn’t having any better luck either. Buck was in the same situation, but he had the pleasure of two guys restraining his arms whilst another two took turns in kicking him in the stomach, I mean I was already pissed off at what was happening to Steve but now,  I’m beyond pissed and IF I’d of taken the time to calm down for a few seconds I’da thought of a better plan than this.

“Man…I really liked these shoes”.

In my defence, I didn’t mean to throw them as hard as I did, I was hoping to distract them for a couple of seconds so I could get the jump on the guy beating the crap outta Steve, instead I hit him square in the back his head and knocked him the fuck out. Any other time I’da been wetting myself laughing, but instead it seemed like time slowed down as the assholes holding Steve up froze and made eye contact with me, even the guys on Bucky stopped to see what had happened, all four of em had a look of complete and utter disbelief when they finally saw me. Not that I really cared, all I wanted was for em to get the fuck off of my boys.

Nobody seemed to wanna say anything for the next couple of seconds, the assholes beating up Bucky and Steve were still trying to wrap their heads around what just happened, and my idiots were looking back and forth between the guy on the floor and me, not even taking the time to try escape their holds. How the hell they manage to survive all these years without me is beyond my understanding.

“Sup my dudes, my names Y/n and I’ll be kicking ya ass today”.

I think it’s safe to say that I snapped everyone out of their shocked states, cause the guys holding both Steve and Bucky dropped their asses to the ground and instead focus on me, which is pretty fair considering I did just knock their mate out with a 2-inch healed shoe.

“Do ya know what we do to girls that don’t know their place round here? Cause ya about to find out girly” why is it always the ugliest motherfuckers that try to act tough, I mean look at this guy! he’s got more stains on his shirt than he does teeth, and about as much hair as a furless cat, I’ve been more intimidated by a group of 12-year-old girls in the dinner than I have him!...teenagers are fucking scary don’t judge me.

Right back to this absolute shitshow of a ‘fight’.

Mr ‘I’m only 30 years old and I already need dentures’ swung his arm out towards me in a pathetic attempt at a punch, which massively backfired on him cause I threw that dumbass over my shoulder and ‘accidently’ knocked his last 4 teeth out.  That left me with the rest of the hounds, two of em were rushing at me the second I let go of their newly toothless friend, the one on my right missed me completely and fell over a fence, dumbass. The dude on my left though, well he didn’t miss I’ll put it that way, he fully rugby tackled me into the car behind me, knocking the wind outta me and leaving me dazed for a few seconds.

But just like the first guy, his ‘punches’ were about effective as a marshmallow. Pretty embarrassing for him really, I mean you hate to see it.

“Okay no, give me your hand I’m gonna teach you how to punch cause this is just embarrassing for you dude, first don’t put your thumb at the bottom cause ya gonna break it, second don’t just throw ya arm forward and hope it hurts, use your body weight cause ya got a lot of it and throw it into the punch.”

At that point I’d pushed him off me and the car, his form was absolutely terrible so I went ahead and corrected it for him, found out his name was Eric, which was pretty interesting, gave him a few practise shots and then let him hit me for real, and I must be a fucking amazing teacher cause that one hurt!

“Really Doll?”

Let me tell you, I’d never seen Bucky so unimpressed in my life, his face was completely deadpanned with only his eyebrows raised, Steve wasn’t too impressed either, his infamous mum glare was in full force as I sheepishly backed away from my new best friend.

“In my defence, you left me unsupervised, and Eric’s form was absolutely atrocious, wasn’t it Eric my lad ?”

“….She’s a pretty good teacher to be fair”.

“See? I’m a good teacher! Suck it Barnes!”

Bucky Knocked Eric the fuck out in response. I think you can all understand how heartbroken I was.

“What the hell Barnes?! If it weren’t for me you and Steve would be dead!” I’m pretty sure I looked as insane as I was acting, Steve was full on laughing his ass off behind Buck, I mean if I weren’t so annoyed by them both right now I’d be on the floor with him just dying of laughter. But nay, I had a bone to pick with the both of them, which I think they both realised considering they both went pale before turning around and bucking it to my house. What you need to remember is that these are fully gown men, running around a Brooklyn neighbourhood screaming bloody murder, with a much smaller y/h/c lass running right behind them brandishing a pair of heels, fully intending to murder them both.

How we’ve gone all these years without being arrested or locked in a mental asylum astounds me.

So hopefully you all enjoyed this, let me know what you all think, we’ve got about 2 more chapters left of my boys then we move onto Captain America the First Avenger!! 

lots of love

Rose xx

[kats-kradle]

after working on various Carlisle fics for a YEAR i managed to write this in two hours i am both annoyed and impressed with myself

Carlisle sighed as he turned off the car motor, staring blankly at the house. The girls were all out for the day, and Edward was with Bella. That left only Jasper and Emmett, who, if the whoops and shrieks and crashes from the backyard were any indication, were otherwise engaged. He ran a hand over his face shakily. For once, he was glad to be met with an empty house. A glance at the clock in the car showed that he had been sitting there for ten minutes already.

Ten minutes.

That’s how long she lived once she got the the hospital. The beeping of the machines as she flatlined rang in his ears tauntingly, as if saying look what you’ve done. Look how you’ve failed.

He got out of the car after a while. He let himself into the house quietly, as to not alert Jasper and Emmett, and hung his coat up on his hook by the door. He paused a moment as he surveyed the hooks lined up next to his, a faint smile finding its way to his face as the gleeful shrieks from outside reached his ears and a familiar warmth filled him at the thought of his family. It faded fast, however, as he remembered with a sharp pang the parents who wouldn’t be permitted to enjoy the luxury of hearing their children play together. He sighed again, an ache settling in his chest as he walked mechanically to the kitchen table and set his bag on it before he sank down into a chair, his legs unable to hold him any longer.  

She had been nine. There was a horrible accident—a patch of ice, a drunk driver—and she passed away ten minutes after the ambulance rushed her to the hospital, in the middle of the surgery. Her parents and brother were lucky enough to survive. Perhaps that was the wrong word; he knew were he in their place he would not consider himself “lucky” to have to carry on after losing a child. The screen door in the back slammed shut, letting in the sounds of teasing and laughing.

“Carlisle! You’re home early,” Jasper commented as he entered the kitchen, a laugh still lingering in his voice. The older vampire tried his best to school his features into something something less conflicted.

“Yes, I—I suppose I am,” he said quietly, looking down at his hands. Jasper stopped in his tracks, his face creasing in concern.

“You okay?” he asked. Carlisle made a halfhearted attempt to draw another emotion to mind to try and shield Jasper from him and opened his mouth to respond with some lie, but the words died in his mouth. Two arms wrapped around him from behind and gave him a squeeze.

“I’m fine,” he murmured after a moment. His hand went up to try and detach the arms, but faltered and came to rest on them instead. His mind drifted back to the little girl and her family. He left before they had regained consciousness—ran like a coward—and he absentmindedly wondered if they would hate him for not saving her.

He knew that he did.

There had been a brief, panicked moment where he considered turning her—but it wouldn’t be fair. It wasn’t fair to anyone who was turned, to take away their lives in exchange for a meaningless, eternal existence. His gaze wandered back to the hooks by the door. And he had sentenced them to that. Jasper gave him another squeeze, grounding him to the present.

“What’s going on?” he asked. He sounded almost scared, and Carlisle swallowed heavily past the lump that had formed in his throat, a wave of guilt washing over him.

“Nothing. I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“For what?”

Carlisle’s head drooped, the weight of his guilt shoving it down.

“For everything,” he murmured, “that you’re condemned to a life you didn’t choose. That I condemned others to the same life, knowing the hardships of it.”

The screen door slammed again.

“Jaz!” Emmett called out, “did you find the basketball?” He faltered when he caught sight of the two vampires at the table.

“Is everything okay?” he asked immediately. He was by their side in a flash. Jasper exchanged a glance with him and gave a small shake of his head; Emmett gave a small nod in return. It was ironic, that they had their own silent way of communicating when Edward was the one who was a telepath.

“You didn’t condemn them,” Jasper said firmly, turning back to Carlisle, “and I don’t feel condemned either, not anymore. Because of your kindness, I have a second chance at life, a chance to learn from mistakes, and... choose the right side.” Carlisle didn’t need telepathy to know that the other vampire was thinking back to his time in the Civil War. He gave his arm a gentle squeeze of reassurance.

“Yeah,” Emmett agreed as he swung a leg over the chair next to him and plopped down, “if it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t have anything—I’d literally be dead. I didn’t even have a family before, and now I have a beautiful wife, parents, and three siblings who are irritating as hell.”

“I’d better be your favorite,” Jasper growled, but there was no real threat behind his voice. Emmett let out a laugh.

“Don’t let Edward know, he’ll mope for weeks,” he said with a wink. The chuckle that escaped Carlisle caught in his throat and almost morphed into a sob. His hand instinctively tightened on Jasper’s arm and he ducked his head as he took a shuddering breath, trying to choke back the tears that sprang forth. Emmett and Jasper quieted instantly and Carlisle could tell that they were worried and oh, how he hated worrying them. Emmett reached across the table and took his hand. Carlisle gripped it like a lifeline.

“I’m sorry,” he choked out, “I’m fine, I just need a moment.” Jasper’s head dropped down to his shoulder and he leaned his own head against it, trying to reassure the younger vampire as much as comfort himself.

“Did something happen at the hospital?” Emmett asked, showing a rare display of seriousness. Carlisle nodded, not quite trusting himself to speak yet. Emmett nodded as well, not seeming to know what else to do.

“Did someone die?” he asked hesitantly. Carlisle nodded again.

“She was nine,” he whispered, “I—I couldn’t—” he broke off. Jasper hummed in an understanding way and Emmett stood and wrapped both of them in a hug. Carlisle squeezed his eyes against the burning tears that spilled out without his permission.

“I don’t deserve this,” he choked out, “I don’t deserve any of you.”

“Wow, I know we’re a handful, but I didn’t know you felt that way,” Emmett teased in a mock-offended voice, purposely flipping the self-deprecating sentence around. Carlisle let out a wet laugh. Emmett held them tighter. They stayed like that for a while before Carlisle managed to get his emotions under control again.

“I’m alright now,” he assured them after a bit.

“Really?” Jasper asked, a tone of disbelief in his voice, “because I know you like to lie about that.” A small smile worked its way to Carlisle’s face.

“I promise,” he said. They broke away slowly, almost regretfully. Carlisle sighed and stood from his seat, grabbing his bag off the table with the intention of heading to his office to drown himself in paperwork. When he turned he was instantly caught in another hug from Emmett, who hugged him in an almost aggressive way. When Emmett stepped away he was replaced by Jasper, who gave him a gentler hug.

“Thank you, boys,” Carlisle said with a genuine smile. The warm feeling had returned, despite the voice in his head telling him that he didn’t deserve any of it.

“Will you watch us play Mario Kart? Jasper cheats,” Emmett said casually, but worry persisted in his eyes.

“You’re the one that cheats!” Jasper accused. Carlisle hesitated a moment, glancing down at his bag. Emmett caught his gaze and shared another cryptic look with Jasper before launching into the mechanics of the game and the various ways that he suspected Jasper was cheating while Jasper tried to defend himself, and somewhere along the way Carlisle’s bag disappeared from his hand and appeared back on the table and he was ushered into the family room to judge the game. After the first round ended when he attempted to head back to the bag, somehow he ended up on the couch between them with a game controller in his hand.

Jasper got first, Emmett got second, Carlisle got eleventh; but the joy and peace that Carlisle felt while playing with his boys could never be ranked.

yes i know that ending is cheesy no im not going to do anything about it

[luverofralts]

Post Arkhelios

“Roman! Roman wake up! Roman!”

Malika held her eldest grandchild in her arms, gently trying to shake him into consciousness. He wasn’t responding.

“Mom? What’s going-”

Adam stopped mid sentence, frozen at the scene before him. He hadn’t known what to expect when he got a desperate call from his mother telling him to bring an ambulance to Factory Park, only that whatever it was, it was bad enough that his mother would actually call him.

“How did this happen? When did you find him? Is he breathing?”

Adam knelt on the ground and gently removed his nephew from his mother’s arms. He lay Roman down on the ground again, noting the significant amount of blood that was already soaking into the stone. Probing around the obvious injury to Roman’s chest, Adam tried to quickly assess the rest of the damage. There was too much blood to accurately tell, but it was his initial assessment that Roman had suffered at least one gun shot wound.

Malika wailed as he worked to find a pulse. It was unbearable to watch. She had seen crime scene photos from Abraham’s death, as Salem had “accidentally” taken the case file home from work and “forgotten” it on the table. This scene was eerily similar to that one. It very much looked like the person who shot Abraham was the same person who shot Roman.

On top of everything, the sky opened up and it started to hail.

“Get the umbrella from the ambulance and hold it over Roman,” Adam ordered. “The last thing I need is him taking more damage from ice.”

Malika did as commanded, and tried to summon her usual projection of grace and calmness. It was no use. Not when her son was doing frantic chest compressions on her grandson.

“Dial Thea’s number,” Adam ordered. “I need anyone we can spare down here.”

Malika called in the volunteer medics, and was relieved to hear sirens wailing in the distance mere moments after she hung up. She and Salem were going to have a long talk later about city council needing to hire more staff. If her grandson died because Wanda had wanted to spend less money in the budget, there were going to be consequences.

The sirens attracted interest as the medics arrived. Everyone was on edge already with the high death rate Arkhelios had developed, and everyone just had to know who had been next to die.

Malika shielded her eyes as bright camera lights flashed in the distance. Reporters were exiting vans and setting up cameras to capture the last moments of her grandson.

“Take over for me, Mom,” Adam commanded. “I need to grab some things from the ambulance and I can’t wait for help to get here.” He placed her thin, perfectly manicured hands on Roman’s chest and showed her how to push. Malika’s first reaction was to pull away, but Adam held her hands firmly against Roman. With a quick kiss on her head, he sprinted to the ambulance. “I think we got here just in time. We may be able to save him.”

Malika pushed as instructed, as Roman’s blood soaked through her coat sleeves. Roman’s blood was quite literally on her hands.

It had been a relatively quiet night at the Helios household. Lucy had been trying to learn a musical scale for school, while the boys all watched TV in the living room. Her piano practice came to a sudden end though when she heard Abe screaming.

Lucy ran as fast as she could through the halls. The TV was still on, flashing the words “breaking news” across the screen. Lucy watched in horror as the screen showed medics arriving to take over chest compressions from an inconsolable Malika.

“Is that Roman?” she managed to finally ask. “That can’t be Roman, it’s a mistake.”

The camera zoomed closer to Roman’s face as he was placed on a stretcher and then disappeared into an ambulance. His face was pale and bloody, and was far too limp for him to be alive. Nathan and Nickolas had gone silent watching the screen, looking like they were on the verge of tears. Lucy couldn’t even process what she’d seen. As much as she teased Roman, she hadn’t really thought that something this bad would happen to him. Him and Abe running away from Arkhelios was just a back up plan, one they’d never need. Now it looked like they’d been too late.

She looked at Abe, who was looking incredibly pale. He was clutching his stomach, his face tight with pain.

“I-I think I need a doctor,” he stammered. “I don’t feel so good.”

The boys ran to get their mothers, while Lucy stayed with Abe, holding his hand tightly.

The hospital in Arkhelios was very small and not very well funded. They had a small population, and prior to Abraham’s death, very few people were seriously ill or died. Elaine called for an ambulance, only to find that Arkhelios’ single ambulance was already occupied by Roman. She looked out her window and saw that the roads were completely empty, save for some people who parked regularly on the street. Everyone outside seemed to be congregating at the park crime scene, looking for answers.

“Fine. I’ll drive there myself.”

Elaine was about to hang up when she heard a familiar voice start issuing commands in the background. The ambulance was clearly available now as Malika was ordering around hospital staff like she owned the place.

“Adam! You go answer that call while I call your father. I’m sure he’s already heard about this and is worried sick.”

“I’m not leaving Roman. There is absolutely no way I’m going anywhere until he’s stable.”

Elaine was suddenly very glad that she hadn’t hung up so quickly. Roman might still pull through this.

“You are too close to this to help anyway. No one is letting you operate on your nephew. You go help that Helios boy, or Roman may never forgive you for it.”

Adam was still protesting in the background, but Elaine’s blood had suddenly seemed to stop pumping. Her entire body felt cold.

How did she know it was Abe who needed the ambulance? The office staff hadn’t once used Abe’s name. Maybe she overheard something when the hospital had radioed the ambulance for it’s status?

“Hey! Hey!” Elaine shouted into the phone, catching the attention of the hospital staff who like Elaine had been watching the chaos of the Bellamy family unfold. “Cancel that ambulance, we’re staying here. Send anyone unrelated to the Bellamys here instead. Completely unrelated to them or I’ll be suing you into bankruptcy.”

Ironman had some...history with pregnancy, and happened to have several medical subroutines installed in his operating system. He claimed that Abraham had installed them himself so Ironman could assist him with his work, but Elaine wanted no knowledge of whatever her father had been doing. The less she knew about her father’s experiments, the happier she was, considering that she was now living in the same house as where her father would have been doing those experiments. She settled the younger kids down with a movie while Lucy watched Ironman preform diagnostic scans of Abe and compute data.

“It’s just stress,” he finally diagnosed. “There’s nothing wrong with you or the baby. If you can stay calm and get some rest, I think you’ll be fine.”

True to Elaine’s demands, a medic soon arrived at the front door, and took over for Ironman. Thea Davis was the best the hospital could provide without too strong a connection to the Bellamys. She was strangely very close to Roman, but seeing as Abe trusted Roman, the hospital felt that they were within Elaine’s accepted parameters. When Thea confirmed Ironman’s diagnosis, the entire household began to relax. She gave Abe something to help him sleep (after Ironman had scanned it thoroughly) and Elaine helped him climb into bed.

She watched Abe fall asleep, standing on guard in case of another potential attack that night. What new scheme had they very narrowly dodged today?

Her mind was racing, but was also exhausted from the constant stress. How had Malika known that Abe was in distress? Why was it so important to her that Adam be the one to tend to Abe? Who was recreating Abraham’s death with Roman Bellamy and why?

Elaine sighed, confident that Abe was sound asleep and currently not in any danger. She had Ironman bring in one of the reclining chairs from downstairs, and set up her vigil by Abe’s side for the night. There was no way she was getting any sleep that night. The pictures on Abe’s desk stared at her, making her uncomfortable enough to want to place them face down. She always knew that Roman Bellamy was trouble, and she had been over the moon when he had been sent away. If only that had been the end of Abe’s romance with him. This whole situation was far gone from just disapproving families and teen pregnancy now, but Elaine had no measure for how crazy things had gotten. How much worse could it get? The Bellamys were desperate to get to her son, that much was clear.

There was one question sticking in her mind that Elaine couldn’t bring herself to answer. Had the Bellamys simply attempted to use Roman’s unrelated shooting to get close to Abe...or did they orchestrate the entire situation including the shooting to get Abe worked up and in the same hospital they would be in with Roman?

[traumasurvivorshelpingsurvivors]

tw abuse, child abuse, emotional abuse, death

I'm just realizing that my parents were worse than I thought since I used to think they were only physically and emotionally abusive but they also neglected me. That physical and emotional abuse was considered part of our culture so.

Mostly it was medical neglect, they won't take me to a doctor unless I'm bothering them too much. Or it was urgent, like when I got scratched by a cat and needed tetanus shots. I had a fever few weeks ago and my ear was swollen and my mom just waved it off.

We had medicine for the fever but she didn't give me any until I asked my grandmother if she had any and my grandmother started making a fuss. I asked her before that (she ignored me), made my sister ask her, and she said we don't have any.

I had an ear infection last year and she didn't even listen to me when I tried to tell her.

Going further back, when I was 7 I got back from playing with my cousins I got scolded, then my ear started hurting when I cried. My mom got angry and said I should just go back to my cousins if going back made my ear hurt. I was sobbing in pain for like, 10 minutes before she did something about it (I can't remember anymore)

How do i cope with this? I was trying to convince myself she didn't really want me dead and now I discover this.

(context on the last part: i was having mild delusions(?) I think I'm not really sure. It's about my mom killing me for some small reason. I don't know.)

Hi friend,

I'm so sorry your parents haven't been treating you well.

Physical and emotional abuse is not part of anyone's culture, please don't believe you deserve to be hurt simply by being born. It's a common thing for black and brown parents to claim, but they're wrong. Violence isn't necessary to parent, full stop.

I'm so sorry your parents didn't think you needed or deserved medical care. People need medical assistance for a wide variety of reasons, not just life and death situations. Your parents are wrong for not believing you when you needed their help the most.

Depending on where you live, you may be able to start handling your medical needs yourself and won't have to rely on your parents. It's definitely worth a Google search!! Even if you can't, if you get sick or injured seriously, you can call an ambulance. If it's slightly less serious, you can utilize your grandma or other trusted adults (schools are great for this!!)

I don't have any advice for the delusions, but if any of our followers do feel free to help anon!!

Hopefully this helps,

Mod Soul