#and she was like ! sorry it's the insurance who insists on it

[peachznscream]

genunely sometimes do not know how to cope with the world being so cold and bureacratic and people who withold care and essential rights to people over arbitrary rules and money and

[mysticalblue09]

Everything from Shelby’s vod

It took Shelby 10 months after the relationship to heal

Wilbur cared more about how it looked

It was subtle in the way Wilbur abused

It didn’t start out with Wilbur hurting Shelby out right

Wilbur wanted to make sure that Shelby was ok with the biting so that she couldn’t come back later and say he abused her

As time went on, Wilbur kept biting too hard more and more frequently

Wilbur decided that he didn’t want to keep “accidentally” hurting Shelby so they came up with a safe word

Wilbur made it seem normal and told his friends and made it seem like a bit to take Shelby’s arm and bite it in front of everyone until she has to shot in pain. And she just has to laugh it off

Shelby kept telling Wilbur after these bits happen that she didn’t like it and that he needed to stop biting so hard

Wilbur replied that this is who he is and he wasn’t going to change.

Wilbur would constantly contradict himself and then try and gaslight Shelby, that he didn’t say these things and how do you know that it’s not your memory being false

Eventually, Wilbur weaponized the safe word and used it insure that Shelby was hurt and on a constant basis

Wilbur wasn’t sorry anymore. He had stopped apologizing so long ago that Shelby doesn’t remember the last time he had apologized

Now, sometimes Wilbur would bite Shelby so hard, she would yell out the safe word because it hurt so bad.

Instead of letting go, Wilbur clamped down even harder or he would grind his teeth down.

He would sometimes smile after.

At one point Wilbur had pinned Shelby down and asked her to try her absolute hardest to get him off of her and she couldn’t do it

He said something to make the point that he was so much stronger than her. That she wouldn’t be able to fight back.

Wilbur said he didn’t have time and energy to do the stuff that Shelby was asking for and then would constantly make any sorta time and energy for anything but her

Shelby was constantly anxious, nauseous all the time, gagging daily, occasionally throwing up because of the bit in her stomach

Shelby would tell Wilbur that she felt unwanted and ignored and he would reassure her that he loved her and that he loved her more than she loved him

Wilbur would INSIST that he loved her more.

Wilbur was love bombing Shelby at the beginning of their relationship.

One month into their relationship, Wilbur was talking about them being soulmates, about forever, about how he wanted to be a dad

On the decline of the relationship, Wilbur doesn’t want kids at all and he has NEVER wanted kids

So Shelby brought up marriage and Wilbur said that he still wanted to marry her

Now, he instead says, “I’m not the commitment guy. You know that.”

Shelby did not know that.

By the end, before Wilbur went on tour, he was basically flaunting that he would never prioritize Shelby over anything

Wilbur was never gonna prioritize Shelby over anything that would give him more fame or money.

He said that himself, directly to Shelby.

Wilbur said he wanted to see how much fame and money he could get.

Wilbur admitted that he had grown to resent Shelby

This was the final push to get Shelby out of that relationship

After the relationship ended, Wilbur was “kind” enough to ship Shelby back her clothes

Only her clothes.

Wilbur trashed everything else.

He lived in filth.

Wilbur would spill things and never clean them up

Wilbur got an ant infestation once and was never gonna do anything about because he said bugs are normal in British houses

Wilbur wouldn’t clean his bathroom for months and months and months but would constantly complain about how bad it smelled

Shelby then told him that it was mold.

But Wilbur would insist that it wasn’t mold even though he hadn’t cleaned in months

When they met, Wilbur was washing his clothes without detergent and then hanging it on his filthy kitchen cabinets

Shelby found out after they broke up that Wilbur didn’t clean at all when she wasn’t there because he just waited for her to get there to do it

Shelby was paying for all the cleaning supplies like soap and paper towels

Shelby was paying for food more than half the time because Wilbur would push her to order for them even if she had paid for the previous meals

Shelby was also paying for every plane ticket and every cat-sitter and Wilbur never offered to help her pay

Shelby told Wilbur that she couldn’t afford doing this all the time so he offered to pay for the cat-sitter from now on

He did that once.

And then never again.

Shelby has said all this because Wilbur is dangerous.

He was willing to lie.

He was willing to do harm to the someone he claimed to love more than anyone he had ever loved.

Wilbur’s actions escalated slowly over time and Shelby wont be the last person that he hurts.

This all happened almost 2 years ago.

Please note that this is everything I’ve gather from watching the vod. If I missed something, just add it on in a reblog. If you still support this disgusting excuse of a human being after knowing that he did this, you are a bad person.

Always listen to the victim

[fan-goddess]

hello!could you write a reaction to the dragon's house × !fem!reader, when she was flying over the sea with the dragon and one of the enemies was on the ship and shot from a crossbow.

(she and her dragon are alive but slightly injured)

Aegon,Aemond,Jacaerys Velaryon-romantic love

Alicent,Daemon,Rhaenyra,Helaena,Laenor Valeryon-platonic love

sorry if there are any mistakes! I hope everything is clear💝I've actually been thinking about this for a long time💥

HOTD characters reactions of when reader is hurt

The summary: The characters each find out during your usual flight around kingslanding that you were shot down by some people belonging to a certain group that hate the Targaryen traditions and believe it to be an abomination.

A/N: They’re all personalised and hopefully different backstories, but have given reader the same dragon in all of them as making dragons are hard. The wound is also pretty much same, but the severity is altered in some places. In the platonic ones I made reader call them mother or father, since I made them a parent. Some of these are very different as I expanded on some more and developed others. You can tell which.

This ain’t fully proofread we die like Luke!

Taglist: @valeskafics, @humanpurposes, @watercolorskyy, @omgbrcat @blue-serendipity @arcielee @targaryenbarbie

Warning: Wounds, various gore mentions, incest, kissing, tried to make it gender neutral and lack of descriptions but there are some scattered about! (if I miss any let me know)

Aegon Targaryen:

When Aegon heard the news from his mother who’d rushed to inform him of your sudden injury, he all but sprinted to the infirmary where you were being treated by one of the leading maesters.

“My love, are you alright?!? I am so sorry my love I should have insisted to accompany you! When I find the man who did this to you I shall rip off his head and feed his insides to Sunfyre and Shrykos!” He declares, the words tumbling quickly with how much rage flooded his body at the sight of your wounded self. You could barely keep up with him if you were being honest.

“Aegon, my sweet husband, it is fine! ‘Tis merely a flesh wound!” You insist, yet wincing as soon as the reassurance falls from your lips.

“And yet here you are heavily bleeding, and in very much pain! You should take some milk of the poppy!” Aegon says, looking around to find the bottle, even when you try and insist you were fine. “If you were fine you’d be with me, in our bed, safe and unharmed! So don’t argue with me wife or my wrath will be misguided!”

You merely humour him by sipping slightly at the small contents of the cup the maester had passed to you. Yet still, you can’t deny that the liquid had its desired effects, as your previously aching wound now significantly dulls down to a mere small throb once in a while.

“Now wife. Tell me who hurt you.” Aegon demands, his eyebrows furrowed and his grip tightened on your body as he insured you would be unable to get away from him.

“Just some idiotic men thinking themselves higher than us my love. They shot at me and Shrykos from their ship when we least expected it with bloody crossbones of all things, and somehow barely managed to skim us. Yet they somehow did not expect the very large dragon to get angry that their rider and themself was just attacked with no prior warning. Shrykos certainly made sure to enact on our lovely families motto. By the time she was done with them, there was nothing left but fire and blood sinking to the bottom of the sea.”

Aegons face slowly turns more and more relaxed, and by the end of your tale he’s practically grinning for joy as he kisses you deep on the lips. “That’s my bloodthirsty wife!” He mumbles against your lips, forgetting all about his past aggressions to make you feel as safe and as loved as you could be in his arms. The maester that continues to awkwardly stand their waiting to finish wrapping your arm be damned.

Aemond Targaryen:

He finds out before anyone else, as he tends to wait for you after your dragon rides if he’s unable to go with you that day. So when you come back later than usual with blood dripping down your arm and half an arrow sticking out of you, he certainly is very angry, and very much willing to get on Vhagar and hunt down and kill those who dared harm his wife. Yet he knows he must stay calm for you.

He notices how you try and mumble your dragons name under your breath, so when he makes it past one of the dragon keepers he makes sure to let them know that Shrykos may be in need of some healing. He assumes by the way your mumbles quieten after he says the order that that was what you were trying to tell him. Yet when he actually looks at you Aemond quickly realises you’ve actually fainted from blood loss.

Aemond rushes you to the Maesters room where he insists only the best work on you, even though he couldn’t afford to be picky what with you bleeding out in his arms and all. Though after a few threats and lot of claims regarding his dragon, the maesters quickly manage to remove the arrow and stem the bleeding whilst you continued to lay unconscious on the healing bed. Aemond stayed by your side the entire time, holding your hand tightly in an act of reassurance. Even though you were still unconscious.

He stayed with you the entire time though. Still holding your hand even when he fell asleep. When you eventually woke, three days after you were injured, Aemond was sure to reassure you that you were safe. Even though by the tenth time you were very ready to smack him.

“Tell me ābrazȳrys who did this too you. Vhagar has been ready for the taste of flesh since I found you. I am sure Shrykos too is ready for the thrill of the chase of those who harmed both her and her rider. Tell me, so I can make sure we can tear them limb from limb.” His words drip malice, and yet there is distinct comfort within them. Aemond has never truly been able to show his affection towards you with displays of anything other than action. And in this moment, it just so happens that action involves heavy bloodshed and possible carnage.

“Those men who hale from the vale. The ones claiming our traditions to be an abomination. A sin in the eyes of the seven. They surprised me and Shrykos as we flew above the seas and got some good strikes. But don’t worry ñuha jorrāelagon. Me and Shrykos made sure to burn them to blood and ash before we needed to flee back to kingslanding.” You attempt to smile to reassure your husband, but if anything it appears to make it worse as you wince at the pain suddenly flaring through your whole right arm.

Aemond stays quiet as he makes sure to force you to drink some milk of the poppy.

“Ābrazȳrys. If you were to die, I would have gone to the brink of insanity. I would’ve gone to those peoples homes and burned them all to the ground for what they have done to my wife. To the future mother of my children. They have harmed you though. The have scarred you. And for that offence alone, I cannot allow them a single more moments of breath. I cannot allow them to live.” Aemond storms off leaving you laying there in half shock and half admiration. You knew he would be true to his word. Which is why when not even a day had passed since Aemond had left, you’d heard whispers of what Aemond had done, and you smiled and thanked the gods for a husband like yours.

Jacaerys Velaryon:

If there was one characteristic you could say your husband embodied to the fullest, it would be loyalty. As no matter how many other women, maids and nobility alike, threw themselves at the future heirs feet he always ran back to you.

Even when other men such as the Lannister’s attempted to charm you with their admittedly horrible, yet according to them successful attempts, Jace was always there with a watchful eye, making sure all knew who you belonged too.

He was protective too. A dragon while not in appearance but definitely in spirit. Jace would always find a way to make sure you were safest whether you wanted him to be involved or not. Even this noon when you wanted to get one last dragon ride before dinner, Jace still insisted there was no need. Yet your stubbornness knew no bounds it seems, as while his back was turned you made quick speed to where Shrykos usually slept and flew her into the great distance. A mere speck in the sky before Jace knew what had happened.

You had started the flight laughing with the biggest grin on your face, eager to see the sights from the sky. Yet of course things turned worse as men from one of the many religious groups of the seven kingdoms took notice of you and your dragon, and decided to shoot you with their admittedly massive weapons.

You dodged the best you could, and yet with a scream from both you and Shrykos, you realised you were both hit.

“DRACARYS SHRYKOS! DRACARYS!” You screamed, satisfied when you hear the hells and the screams of the men and the ships bellow. With your good arm, you steer Shrykos to the direction of dragonstone and order the instructions, before all appears to go dark.

When you wake, all seems strangely normal. That is of course, before you see the giant bandaged wound that is your arm. You can see a hint of red peeking from the bandages and are about to see if you could rewrap it, before Jacaerys comes through and with wide eyes realises you are awake and well as you can be.

“My love!” He shouts, running over and encasing you in his arms. Not hearing the low hiss you make when his hands clasp around your still admittedly sore arm. “Where have you been!? You’re hurt!” He yells, finally taking noticing your blood that steadily pools to the surface. “Let us get you to the maesters!”

As much as it hurt you to have Jace pull you like he did, you merely let it all happen so not to cause an event bigger fuss of you than what he already is making. Yet when you get to the maesters chambers and nearly find yourself fainting, that’s when you suddenly understand your husbands worry.

When you wake up though, it’s the feeling of Jaces familiar warmth that settles you as you gaze on his sleeping form. Yet as you wake, so does he it seems. As not even a few minutes after you’ve woken Jace is quick to rise with you. His eyes wide and worried as they roam you for anymore possible injuries you may possibly somehow have hidden.

“Are you alright my love?!” He asks, his eyes still roaming for even a moment of weakness from you. “There maesters took care of your arm and the arrow. And I heard word from the dragon keepers who tell me Shrykos is healing dutifully from his wounds!”

“Good.” You simply say, hissing slightly as you sit up and try to keep yourself grounded. “I’d kill then if she wasn’t.”

Jacaerys laughs at your threat, and his face looks almost serene as he just looks at you. His eyes going soft as his hands continue to hold yours. It’d be an almost affectionate moment had it not been for the sudden flare up of pain in your arm.

“Fuck!” You yell, hissing once again as you’re reminded of why you’re even in the maesters room in the first place. “It is alright husband I’m fine!” You insist seeing the worry now marking his face.

“I will worry when I want.” He simply says, kissing you on the top of your head before moving to sit next to you on the bed. His head resting on yours as he puts his arms around you. Your eyes shutting as a sudden hit of exhaustion hits you, yet you welcome it fully as Jaces arms feel just so welcoming and calming.

Alicent Hightower:

Alicent had always been like a mother to you. Caring for you when you were sick and making sure that you were always in your highest possible health. It was probably why she’d insisted since you were young to fully call her mother, even though you were not biologically related to her.

Whenever she heard about even the slightest of injuries though, she always worried relentlessly about the damage. Which is why when you appeared before her clutching a bleeding wound from your shoulder, you’re quite honestly surprised she hadn’t dropped from shock.

“Oh my darling what has happened?!” She’d gasped, frozen in shock as she stood there not knowing what really to do.

“Bastards on their boats took a few shots at me and Shrykos whilst we were on our morn flight. They got two good shots at us to hurt us but don’t worry. Before we got here Shrykos managed to give them what was coming for them…” You groan, holding your shoulder in your hand that has now from the lack of adrenaline, has begun aching dramatically.

“Oh never mind the men I care only about you!” She fusses, coming closer before stopping half way, staring between your shoulder and your pained face. Maybe Alicent will drop from shock after all.

“SOMEBODY GET THE MAESTERS!” You hear a voice yell, before all appears to go dark before your eyes. When you wake though, it is as if the light is blinding you. You blink a few times to ground yourself, and it’s with a sudden surprise you realise that you feel a familiar warmth on your hand. You turn your head slightly, stiff from the lack of movement you think, and realise Alicent is staring at you with great worry on her face.

“Are you feeling alright my darling? The maesters have cleaned and sewed up your wound, but according to them it shall take a while for it to fully heal. You must tell me dear girl, in detail, what happened out there. What did those people do to you?”

“After me and Shrykos took off, we flew to the stormlands. We were drifting round shipbreaker bay, when those men the council warned us over took notice. Crossbows the size of my arm began shooting at us mother, so I am grateful they managed to get me and Shrykos only once.” At the mention of your dragon, your face turns to worry. Yet before you say anything, your mother quickly moves to interrupt you.

“Your dragon is safe my love. The dragon keepers have been keeping me up to date on her healing, and she is steadily heading to full recovery. The arrow has been removed fully, and the wound has stopped bleeding.” She says, her face betraying her as she is unable to hide her distaste of your dragon.

“Thank you mother, I appreciate the consideration. I know you have no love for Shrykos, nor any of your children’s dragons.” You say, your honesty true as you smile in thanks and understanding.

“You’re welcome my heart…” Your mother smiles, her hand reaching out to hold yours. Which while you admittedly want to shy away from, yet you push through your discomfort to allow your mother this moment that you know your adoptive sister would not have allowed.

“I do not want you to fly unaccompanied anymore my heart,” Alicent begins, shushing your with a single movement when she sees you about to harshly protest. “I have discussed this with your brothers and sister, and they have all agreed. Aemond has already taken the duty on his ever eager shoulders, and has said he will ride with you tomorrow morn at your usual time. It may be in your best interest to thank him next time you see him.”

“Of course mother…” You sigh, already dreading Aemonds smug face and wanting to punch it. Yet you withhold yourself from groaning out loud only from your mother’s sake, who is still holding your hand with intended comfort, even though she is doing nothing but make your blood pump fast around your body. Still, you say nothing. Allowing her to believe she is comforting you with a motherly smile on her face.

Daemon Targaryen:

Daemon had always possessed an amusingly short temper. It was especially tested though whenever it regarded to you. Whenever you got yourself hurt as a child, whether than was to do with training or just an accident in the halls, he always demanded to know the man behind your pain. It’s why you weren’t at all surprised when he reacted that same way when you flew back to Dragonstone and stumbled towards him with an arrow stuck in your shoulder blade.

“Who has dared to harm you zaldritzos? Tell me so I can show them what the exact consequence is for messing with a dragon. I am sure caraxes is already fuelled with my anger alone and is ready to face those who dares spill such precious blood.” Daemon snarls, his face unable to hide its anger as he holds your body steady so it won’t suddenly collapse.

“Bastards from the bloody ships on the bloody sea. Got us good… got us good…” You slur, every word feeling forced from your very gut as your eyes grow heavier and heavier.

“Don’t you dare close those eyes zaldritzos! Don’t you fucking close them!” You hear him snarl once more. But still, you cannot resist the temptation of sleep as you disobey your father and close your eyes.

When you find yourself waking, it is Daemon is standing by you while you slept. His eyes hard and stern as they observe you.

“I suppose you’re mad?” You can’t help but say. Your face admittedly ashamed as you stare to the floor, unable to hold his stare.

“Of course I am mad!” He yelled, refusing to allow you to turn your head away as he forces you to make eye contact with him. “My daughter has gone out without telling me, and she has gotten herself hurt the same way soldiers are hurt in wars!”

“I am sorry father!” You say, tears brimming in your eyes as the disappointed and anger shines through his. “I cannot control where those bastard men sail-“

“But you can control where you fly!” Daemon yells back. His voice rough and frustrated as the inner dragon inside him comes out. “I have taught you better than this zaldritzos! I have been teaching you how to ride that dragon of yours since you were a mere child! So why was it you were no doubt flailing about the sky like an amateur, when I know you could have done better?!”

“I’M NOT LIKE YOU!” You shout, shoving your father away as he stares at you with an expressionless face. “I am not a great leader, or a great dragon rider! I am still learning father! My lessons have not yet stopped being taught! Those men on the ships who shot at us were the ones you had warned us about. The ones claiming our great traditions to be an abomination and deserving of punishment. Me and Shrykos did not know their affiliation as we flew above them. Only when the arrows began to fly for our heads did we realise… I got an arrow in the shoulder, which has now since been removed. Shrykos though listened perfectly and managed to get out of there without any particularly damaging wounds. Still, my anger shon through her, and we managed to light the whole of the fleet up in flames before we flew back home. Where of course, you found me…”

Daemon is silent throughout your rant, yet by the end, when you’re breathless with how quickly you spoke, his hand is placed on your non-injured arm in an unfamiliarly comforting manner.

“I know you are not like me zaldritzos. While I have made you in my image, I hardly expected it to be your only outcome. You have become strong. You have become a fearsome warrior able to bring honour to our family name and our ancestors. I suppose… I may have forgotten that I too have made mistakes. I am sorry zaldritzos…”

The tears that had brimmed earlier in your eyes now tear down your face now that you hear your fathers words. His pride. So you do the only thing you can think of at that moment to show your appreciation. You take your arms and place them around Daemons waist, pulling him into a hug where your head is against his chest. Thankfully his arms seem to automatically go around your own body, and you can’t help but find this act comforting and safe.

“Thank you…” You can’t help but murmur.

“I would never let anything hurt you…” He murmurs back. Words which to anyone else may sound meaningless, but to you, you know they hide your father’s true feeling of care.

Rhaenyra Targaryen:

Rhaenyra had always been a sort of mother to you. A light to guide you in the darkest of your days. Whenever you took ill or had an injury, it was always she who stood by your bed, holding your hand in her own. Even though both husbands and loyal guards warned her of her possibly falling ill herself. Not that she ever did somehow though.

It was like that now. That afternoon, you had decided on a whim to take Shrykos on a fight around the coasts bordering the land surrounding Dragonstone. Yet it seems you coincidentally forgot Daemons talk about the rising threat of a religious group following faithfully the followings of the seven, as you tried to fly past them calmly and peacefully. Shrieking in fear when you realise it was not a harmless fly that flew past your face just now, but a very deadly steel-tipped arrow.

You barely made it out of there alive. The only injuries you yourself sustaining being a few arrow nicks on your shoulders, and the worse of it being a shallow puncture from one of the few successful shots. Shrykos though took most of the hits. Her rage seething the more those pathetic men tried to harm both her and her rider. It was quite satisfying you must say, when you flew away with the fresh smell of burning corpses still behind you, lingering on your clothes.

Yet when you got back home and were standing in front of your mother, that satisfaction quickly changed to a strange sort of guilt when you see her horror struck face.

“What has happened my darling!” She tells, taking ahold of your arm to look at your injury while you yell at her to try and say you were fine, even though you wince as soon as she yanks you towards her.

“Bloody men on the coast of Gull Town decided to shoot at us from their fucking boats. They got only a few good shots before Shrykos managed to get to them. By the time we left, we ensured they became fire and ash. I doubt there are any men alive after that….” You say, barely able to stand as the sudden blood loss reaches you.

You’re barely able to think as your mother brings you to the castle hanging on her shoulder. Soon, maesters surround you whilst your mother fusses by your bed to the left of you. She insists and demands certain things, but by the end, your grateful to feel the pain in your arm significantly lessen not only due to the lack of wooden arrow, but also due to the large amount of milk of the poppy that was pretty much forced down your throat.

“Is it all better now my darling?” Your mother asks, putting your hand between her own to soothe you as if you were a small child who’d scuffed their leg falling on some loose gravel.

“It is fine mother!” You insist. Even smiling as you play the part of the healthy child, able to bounce back from any injuries. Yet somehow she can still manage to see through your facade.

“Are you sure?” She asks again. Her brow raised in questioning as she makes you feel like a young child again. Small, and helpless as you cry to mother.

“Yes I am fine!” You firmly say, taking your hand from hers and placing it on the cold clinical bed sheets. Already missing the familial warmth your mother’s hands had provided you with. “I do not need you pressing!”

“Okay my love. I believe you.” Rhaenyra smiles, acknowledging her child’s want for independence. Moving from the chair she previously had sat on so she can place a quick kiss to the top of your head and smile fondly at the way your nose scrunches. “I will leave you now my love. The maesters had said you’ll fully heal by the moons next turn, but you’re fit to leave the bed tomorrow morn. I’ll visit you then.”

As quick as Rhaenyra leaves, you find yourself already wanting her motherly touch to tell you it’s okay. Your legs tucking under your chin as you hold yourself under the covers, letting your eyes shut so hopefully you’re able to wake up tomorrow by your mother’s voice.

Helaena Targaryen:

Compared to all your other family members, it has always been Helaena you were closest too. A close bond forging between the two of you since girlhood that not once has ever been broken.

You were with her when she claimed Dreamfyre, just as she was there for you when you claimed Shrykos. You also made sure to try and be with her whenever she experienced one of her, moments.

Yet that morning, you were way too busy trying to get ready for your usual morn flight to be with her when she took what the queen would call, a funny turn.

‘Blood of the dragon lost twice over. Beware the boats from bellow filled with men of hate.’

She’d seen your injury and the fire coming from your dragons mouth, and being the anxious person she was, she waited at the dragon keeps entrance with her hands fiddling with each other.

When you fly in holding your arm to try and stem the blood, getting off with difficultly as you try and not fall, you almost scare yourself when you turn and suddenly find yourself face to face with Helaena, who holds a bandage ready to treat you with it.

“Give me your arm…” She softly asks, waiting for you to release your arm from your grip so she can slowly and carefully take the arrow from your arm, choosing to ignore your vocal cries of pain so she can make sure to get the arrow out. When she does, she chooses to just drop the bloody wooden chunk to the floor so she can quickly wrap your now gushing wound, which she cleans with a slightly damp clothe that can’t have been out of the water bowl for long.

“What happened?” She asked while she cleaned your red streaked arm.

“Do you remember those men Aemond warned us about? The ones who hate us for our heritage?” You ask, waiting to hear Helaena unique hum to show she’s truly listening. “Well when I was flying by Tarth, those men were in there boats and obviously spotted me before I spotted them. So they shot at me till they hit me.” You shrug, regretting it soon as you did as you hiss at the sudden flare up of pain.

“It’ll hurt badly. I didn’t manage to take any milk of the poppy from the maesters, so we’ll probably need to visit them soon.” Helaena simply says, giving you a smile before she takes your hand in her own. An act you cannot say in words how much it means to you, given how you know of her usual revulsion for physical touch.

So you stay silent. Allowing her to lead you to the maesters with a small smile on your face, that is wiped right off when you become face to face with them. They stare at your with judgement and soulless eyes as they remove you from Helaenas comforting warmth and instead force you to feel cold metal against your flesh. They ignore you as they unwrap the bandages. Only giving each other looks as they wordlessly judge the state of your body.

It almost makes you want to tear their heads from their bodies and feed them to Shrykos. Who no doubt is feeling your frustrations and anger down in the dragon pit.

Yet you hold your tongue for Helaenas sake, who is watching the maesters take supposed special care of you from the corner of the room. She gives you small smiles whenever you make eye contact, and it’s only with them you manage to pull through. The milk of the puppy though they force down your throat certainly makes you more cooperative though you must say.

“Thank you Hel, for looking after me.” You say, staring at her as soon as the maesters deemed you healed enough and left you. No doing to go get the queen to inform her of your sudden injury.

“It is no problem…” She softly smiles back, moving forward to stand next to you so she can hold your hand in her own. Her soft flesh relaxing you possibly even more than the drugs flowing through your system. “I will always be there for you…”

Laenor Valeryon:

Even though you always knew that Laenor could never truly be your father, he nonetheless always managed to act like one better than anyone. While your mother was busy attending to your brothers, it was Laenor who was always busy attending to you, making sure you were fussed in a way a princess should be fussed.

He always made sure to give you the bestest care a princess may need it. Like right now for instance.

“I NEED A MAESTER RIGHT FUCKING NOW!” You remember your father screaming while your vision slowly began to blur in a variety of difference places. “Where are you hurt ñuha nūmio? Where is the pain? What can I do?”

“Arrow in the fucking shoulder.” You groan, bile building in your throat as you resist the urge to vomit. “Only there father. Shrykos was hit too. Fuck it hurts so much…”

“Do not worry dear girl! The maester will come!” As he says this, guards come running with a maester in tow. The guards take ahold of you carefully as you nearly collapse under the sudden blood rush. The maester barking orders for what to do to you to cause the least amount of damage to your body as possible.

When you get to the healing room, you’re placed roughly onto a bed where now a whole group of maesters now flock to you like a group of crows over a fresh carcass. They all say a different method on how to treat you, yet it’s Laenor whose voice shines louder than them all.

“You will not cut up or harm my daughter!” He yells, his voice firm and harsh as he glares at them all. “You will take out that fucking arrow, and you will heal her. Or I swear, as the heir of the realms husband, I’ll make all of you fucking regret it!”

All is silent, and yet with a firm glare they all scatter to complete your father’s order. Soon, cloth is finding its way in your mouth to quench your screams as hands force the arrow once imbedded in your arm is forced onto a silver plate. Blood gushing down your arm in an admittedly disturbing manner.

By the end, there is an elder looking maester stitching up your blood coated arm, and an arrow head and some wood pieces. Laenor held your hand with every scream and every clench of your body. He made sure you felt as safe as you could in the presence of the same type of men who killed your aunt. He also made sure to quickly push them out as soon as they were done with there work. Nodding along in a dismissive manner as they insist they are still needed.

When they are eventually shushed away however, with the door shut quickly behind them, Laenor quickly finds himself by your side again. His hand laced firmly in yours as he takes a lone damp cloth so he can clean away the dried blood still decorating your wounded flesh.

“Does it hurt much? I can always call a maid to fetch you some milk of the poppy?” Laenor insisted, his touch delicate as he makes sure not to harm you in any way.

“It merely stings…” You shrug, wincing though soon as you do due to the sudden flare up in your shoulder. “I do not need any milk of the poppy father. I can manage my pain.”

“I can see that…” He grins, even chuckling when he sees your own smile. “Though, I must ask. What happened? You did not exactly give me much information before the maesters came for us.”

“Me and Shrykos began our normal journey to the direction of Runestone. But on the coast of Gull town, it appears those men mother had recently warned us about, the ones who deem our customs immoral and a disgrace to a seven, spotted us before we spotted them. They took no time before they were shooting at us with giant crossbows on their ship. They took us by surprise, and managed to get only a single time, but that was enough to enact Shrykos’ rage. I didn’t even say the command father! Shrykos enacted our joined rage and set fire to their ships and their bodies. If they weren’t dead by the time we left, I am almost sure they are all at least dead by now.”

He takes in your words carefully. Murmuring small words every so often while he holds your hand as a sigh of sympathy. When your done though, his face is smeared in deep anger. A hatred you have never seen your father show ever before in your lifetime.

“Well it’s a good think they are dead though,” He finally says, snapping from his thoughts with a huff. “Because if they were alive, Seasmoke would be gorging on a feast right now!”

“Thank you father…” You simply say, falling into his arms that welcome you immediately. You close your eyes and allow yourself to bask in his familiar comforting warmth.

[deliciousangelfestival]

Nothing Has Changed - 15

Summary: Returning home for peace, you're faced with your tormentor, Bucky Barnes, who is now involved in your family's business.

Character: Bucky Barnes

Warning: Angst, Tragedy.

Author Note: From the last poll, the series that you want to see updated is this one. I hope you enjoy this update.

Nothing Has Changed - Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist || support: Ko-fi

Thank you to anyone who gave a like, reblog, and left a comment. It motivated me to write more. 💖💖💖

“Just like your father. Dishonest to the core,” Lydia sneered, her eyes narrowing as she glared at Bucky.

He exhaled sharply, folding his arms. “How could he ever marry you? And how did I end up with a mother like you?”

Without warning, Lydia snatched up the magazine and flung it at him. Bucky moved effortlessly, dodging the flying object with ease. “You threw me in jail, and now you disrespect me? I can’t believe this is my life,” she spat, her voice seething with resentment.

Bucky sighed, but there was no sympathy in his eyes. He walked over to the coffee table and sat down on the edge, directly facing her. His movements were calm, controlled, but Lydia could sense something had shifted in her son—something dangerous.

He raised three fingers slowly, holding them in front of her. “Three times,” he said coldly, his voice steady and low. “If you push me past three, I’ll send you back to jail. And from what I hear, the food there does wonders for your diet.”

Lydia’s face twisted with rage, her jaw clenched so tight that her teeth ground together. She stood abruptly, practically trembling with fury, but she said nothing. Instead, she shot him a glare, turned on her heel, and stormed out of the room, her footsteps echoing loudly as she left.

Bucky watched her go, his jaw tense, his hands tightening into fists. The room was quiet again, but inside, his thoughts were turbulent. How did it come to this? How did everything get so twisted?

For years, he had been blind—blind to the lies, the manipulation, the way his mother had used him as a pawn in her schemes. He had fought to protect her, fought for a family that had never truly existed. Now, he saw her clearly, and the bitter truth burned like acid in his veins.

🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀

The situation in your house wasn’t much better. Despite Tom’s insistence that he was fine, you could still see the tension in his eyes, the way his hands fidgeted, unable to relax. His panic lingered beneath the surface, though he kept trying to mask it with forced smiles and shallow breaths.

Then your phone rang. The screen lit up with a name—Alan, Harlan’s oncologist. You took a steadying breath before answering.

"Hello, I’m sorry I just saw your text," Alan's voice crackled through.

“It’s alright, I know you’re busy,” you replied, trying to keep your voice calm even though your mind was racing.

“That’s true, I barely get enough sleep. I’m really sorry about your father,” Alan offered.

“Thank you,” you murmured. “Did you see the photo I sent?”

“I did. From the photo alone, I can’t tell exactly what’s in the pill. But one thing did catch my attention,” Alan said, his tone shifting slightly.

Your grip on the phone tightened. “The doctor’s name?”

“Yes,” Alan confirmed. “Tony Stark. I’m really surprised he’s practicing again, considering everything.”

Your heart began to pound, a sudden unease creeping in. “What did Tony do?”

Alan sighed on the other end. “He’s been involved in some serious controversies. He offered treatments to patients who didn’t need them—overcharging, committing insurance fraud, manipulating patients for financial gain.”

Tony Stark? You felt a chill run down your spine. You glanced toward your father’s bedroom, your thoughts spiraling. Could Tom have been misdiagnosed?

“Alan, what if my father’s been misdiagnosed?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

“If I were you, I’d get a second opinion immediately,” Alan advised, his tone firm. “Come to my clinic anytime. I’ll personally check on your father, and bring his medication with you.”

You exhaled in relief, trying to steady your shaking hands. “Thank you, Alan. I really appreciate it.”

He chuckled lightly. “It’s my pleasure. After all, you and Harlan helped grow my portfolio quite a bit.”

You forced a smile, though it didn’t reach your eyes. “Thanks again. Would tomorrow work?”

“Of course. Anytime,” Alan replied before you both wrapped up the call.

Quietly, you moved toward your father’s bedroom door. You eased it open just a crack, peeking inside. There was Tom, frail and fragile, a shadow of the man you once knew. Is this really cancer, or has he been subjected to unnecessary treatment? The question hung heavy in your mind, twisting your stomach.

The next morning, you stood by the car, loading a suitcase into the trunk. The air was tense, and Tom, leaning against the doorframe of the house, still looked uncertain. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, clearly hesitant.

“Daughter,” he started, his voice wavering. “Our doctor is good. He has so many certificates and awards…”

You gently led him toward the passenger seat, your hand firm but comforting on his shoulder. “Having certificates and awards doesn’t mean the diagnosis and treatment are 100% right, Dad. If that were all it took to be a doctor, everyone would be cured,” you said softly but firmly.

Tom sighed, unable to argue. He nodded and got into the car, his hands fumbling with the seatbelt. It dawned on him then that this was the first time he’d ever been in your car, the first road trip he’d ever taken with you.

After making sure everything was packed and ready, you moved toward the driver’s seat. Just as you reached for the door handle, a familiar sound caught your attention—the low hum of a car engine. You turned to see Bucky’s car pulling up to the driveway. He parked hastily and stepped out quickly, his face a mixture of curiosity and concern.

“Where are you going?” he asked, his gaze flickering between you and your father.

You didn’t meet his eyes, not wanting to reveal the real reason. “Just a road trip,” you said with a casual shrug. “I realized I never had that moment with my father.”

Bucky studied you for a moment, his expression unreadable. But then he nodded. “Alright. Safe trip, guys,” he said, his voice softening. “I’ll take care of the house while you’re gone.”

“Thank you,” you responded, offering him a small, appreciative smile before slipping into the driver’s seat.

As you drove away, you glanced in the rearview mirror. Bucky stood there, watching your car disappear down the road, his figure growing smaller in the distance. There was something in his eyes—something he wasn’t saying. You couldn’t quite place it, but it lingered in your thoughts as you drove farther from the house, from him.

🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀

You and Tom entered the clinic, immediately struck by how different it was from the small-town hospital you were used to. The walls were pristine, the furniture modern and sleek, and the air felt fresher, almost too clean. Tom's eyes darted around, taking it all in.

“This place looks expensive,” he muttered under his breath, clearly uneasy.

Without looking up from the magazine you were idly flipping through, you gave a small smile. “It is. This doctor has treated presidents, actresses, athletes. He’s the best we’ve got,” you said casually, letting that sink in.

Tom’s eyes widened a bit at the thought. He glanced at you, as if seeing you in a new light. You had really gotten far since leaving that small town—much further than he’d realized.

Moments later, a nurse walked into the waiting area with a clipboard in hand. "Tom L/N?" she called, scanning the room.

Tom stiffened, his grip tightening on the arm of his chair. He shot you a quick, uncertain glance, and you gave him a reassuring nod. Slowly, he stood, and the two of you followed the nurse down the hallway.

When you stepped into the examination room, a tall man with kind, tired eyes and graying hair stood to greet you both. His demeanor was professional but friendly.

“Tom, Y/N, good to meet you,” Alan said warmly, offering a handshake to both of you. “I’ve heard a bit about your situation.”

Tom shook his hand, though his movements were stiff. “Likewise,” Tom muttered, still unsure of the whole process.

Alan motioned for Tom to sit on the examination table. "Let's take a look," he said, adjusting his stethoscope and carefully examining Tom. His hands were gentle but thorough as he checked Tom's vitals. “You’re quite underweight,” Alan noted with a concerned frown, pulling back to look at Tom. “We need to work on building your strength up. It’s critical.”

Tom forced a weak smile, clearly uncomfortable with the attention. He shifted in his seat, his eyes darting away as he spoke. “Yeah, well… haven’t had much of an appetite lately.” He hadn’t expected this doctor to be concerned about his weight; Alan was different from Tony.

Alan paused, his eyes narrowing slightly as he took in Tom's condition. He placed a hand on Tom’s shoulder, his tone growing serious. “We’re going to do some tests—a scan, maybe a biopsy, to see what’s really going on. You’ll need to stay here for a while so we can monitor you.”

Tom looked uneasy, shifting on the examination table. He shrugged, then pointed toward you. “She’s in charge of all that. I trust her judgment.”

You smiled back at him, though your mind was racing. “Whatever you think is best, Doctor. We just want to get to the bottom of this.”

Alan nodded approvingly. “Good. I’ll have the nurse set everything up. In the meantime, we’ll make sure Tom gets the nutrition he needs.”

As the nurse came to escort Tom to the next room, you stayed behind with Alan. The atmosphere between you shifted immediately, the conversation taking on a more serious tone. You reached into your bag and handed Alan the collection of medication bottles your father had been taking.

Alan’s brows furrowed as he sifted through them, clearly surprised. "All of these?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah,” you replied, your voice low, a tightness in your chest. You’d had the same reaction the first time you saw the sheer number of pills.

Alan shook his head in disbelief, turning a bottle over in his hands. “This is way too much for anyone to be on,” he muttered. “I’ll send these to the lab for analysis. We need to know exactly what he’s been taking.”

You swallowed hard, nodding. "I don’t trust his diagnosis anymore, Doctor. What if… what if he’s been misdiagnosed?"

Alan looked at you seriously, setting the bottles down. “It’s possible. With the medications he’s been prescribed, there are a lot of red flags. Especially with what you mentioned about Dr. Stark.”

Your pulse quickened at the mention of that name. "If there's any chance my father’s been given something unnecessary… or worse, something harmful, I need to know."

“We’ll find out soon,” Alan reassured you, his voice steady. “But in the meantime, we’re going to focus on getting Tom back to a healthy place. He’s too frail right now, and we need to get him stabilized.”

You nodded, feeling a knot of anxiety loosening slightly. "So, what's the next step?"

"Tom will need to stay here for observation. We’ll run a few more tests and adjust his diet to get him stronger. You can visit him anytime, but don’t forget to take care of yourself too," Alan said, giving you a kind but pointed look.

🥀🥀🥀🥀

Later, after Tom was settled in and you knew he was in good hands, you found yourself wandering through the bustling city streets. The towering buildings and fast pace of city life made you feel small, but your mind kept drifting back to the clinic.

It's only been a few months, but already the city felt different. New cafés and restaurants had popped up, their signs gleaming with fresh paint. The pace of change was unsettling, and as you walked, memories of a quieter, more familiar place tugged at your thoughts.

Suddenly, you remembered the art gallery that had hired Steve. It wasn’t far from where you were, so you hailed a taxi, the ride feeling both quick and too slow as your mind wandered. Steve had always found solace in his art—maybe seeing his work would bring you some peace too.

When you arrived at the gallery, the soft hum of conversation and the faint smell of paint welcomed you. You moved through the exhibits, eyes catching on familiar brushstrokes. There it was—Steve’s painting. You paused, staring at the delicate lines, the vibrant colors. It felt like him, a piece of him still lingering on the canvas.

As you stood there, lost in thought, the gallery owner approached with a friendly smile. "Enjoying the collection?" they asked, their tone polite but cautious.

You nodded, still admiring Steve's work. "Yes, especially this one. Steve Rogers—he's incredible."

The gallery owner’s expression faltered, their eyes darkening with something you couldn’t quite place. "I’m sorry to be the one to tell you this… Steve was in an accident."

The world seemed to slow, your breath catching in your throat. “What?” you managed, voice barely above a whisper.

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[bunnyywritings]

your husband, nanami kento comforts you after a car accident

i was in a car accident today and i just needed comfort so here’s a little something i wrote

slight TW: minor car accident and self deprecation

It all happened so fast.

One minute, you were at a red light. The next, it was green but the car in front of you broke so suddenly and you weren’t quick enough to react.

The sound of crushing metal made your eyes widen, your foot moving to step on the breaks but it was too late, the damage had been done. There was a dull ache in the back of your neck and your chest as you followed the car to a safe spot to pull over and park.

The man who you had hit was too kind given the circumstances, he asked if you were alright and waved off your insistent apologies.

Quickly exchanging information and taking pictures of the damage, your hands shook violently as you sat in your car and watched him drive away.

Moving on auto-pilot, you did the only think you could think of. You picked up your phone and dialed Kento’s number.

You could feel the tears welling in your eyes as you listened to the dial tone ring, what would he say?

You’re bothering him at work. You’re under his insurance, this will definitely impact his rate. God…and the cost. You definitely didn’t have the money to fix your bumper and he would most likely offer to take in the payment. You couldn’t do that to him. This was all your fault.

Why did you have to be such an idiot? Such a disappointment? How could you be so careless to-

“-everything alright?”

A shaky “Huh?” left your lips which had made Kento sit up suddenly in his seat. Making Gojo and Yuji frown in confusion.

“Sweetheart, is everything alright?”

The care and concern in his voice was enough for the dam to open. Tears streamed down your face as you gripped the fabric of your pants with your free hand.

“K-Kento…” Your voice broken and wet had made him tense. “I got-I got into a car accident.”

A whirlwind of worry swirled in his chest. Where were you? Were you hurt? Were you safe?

“Where are you?” He quickly rose from his seat, grabbing his keys from his suit jacket and heading towards the door. “Okay, I’m on my way.” And with that, he hung up.

“What happened?” Yuji’s eyes shifted between Gojo and Nanami. You were one of his favorite teachers as Jujutsu High and the thought of something happening to you scared him.

“She was in a car accident.”

This concerned him greatly, distress clear in his eyes. “Is she okay?”

“I don’t know.” Nanami’s jaw was clenched as he made his way out of the room, rushing to his car.

“Don’t worry kid.” Gojo patted his head. “He’ll take care of it.”

You had sent your location to Nanami, all that was left was to wait.

You had long since shut off your car, staring i to the emptiness in front of you, trying as much as you could to control your cursed energy, not wanting to cause anymore harm.

When Kento pulled up to the scene, he was relieved to see no emergency vehicles around but that relief was gone immediately once he saw the detached bumper of your car.

As he approached, he noticed the dazed look on your face. You had dried tear stains down your cheeks, your mascara a little smudged around your eyes as you stared into nothing. He could also feel your struggle to keep your cursed energy at bay.

His concern sky rocketed when he pulled open the driver’s side door and you still hadn’t reacted. He knelt down so he was at eye level with you.

“Love? Are you alright?” He whispered, gently brushing some hair behind your ear. That seemed to snap you out of your trance. Your head snapped over to look at him, eyes finding his.

His heart shattering when your face crumpled in anguish and fresh tears spilled from your eyes. “I’m sorry…I’m sorry, m’so sorry Kento! M’sorry-!” You were in hysterics. Apologizing through hiccups.

He couldn’t have been more confused. Why were you apologizing?

Nonetheless, he helped you out of your car and guided you into his arms. Holding you so tightly and breathing a sigh of relief. Reminding himself that you were alive. That you were okay. That you were in one piece.

He held you as you sobbed, clinging to the back of his shirt as he cradled the back of your head and placed a kiss to the top of it.

Once your cries died down and you pulled away from him, he decided to ask you.

“Why’re you apologizing?” He wasn’t being accusatory or anything, his tone was soft and gentle.

“B-Because I interrupted you at work and-and your insurance is gonna go up and I have to get the bumper replaced and-“

“Hey, hey…” He cooed, hands cradling your jaw, thumb lovingly caressing your cheekbone and wiping your tears. “Are you injured?”

You frowned. “No.”

“Were they injured?” He was met with a shake of the head. “I don’t care about the insurance rate going up, I don’t care if I need to pay to have your car fixed. I wouldn’t even bat an eye if I had to buy you a new car entirely. All I care about is that you’re safe. That you’re not hurt. A car is an object. It’s replaceable. You are not.” He removed a hand from your face and reached down to grab your left hand, bringing it to his lips and kissing your engagement band and wedding ring with such reverence and care.

“I made a vow to take care of you. Whether that means taking care of you when you have the flu or paying for anything you need.”

This made even more tears flow down your cheeks. “I was so scared, Ken.” He frowned at your confession.

“I know pretty, but you’re okay. I’ve got you.” He continued to press kisses to your palm and wrist. “I left a few of my things at the school but if you wanted to go straight home, then I can just grab them tomorrow.”

“No, that’s okay.” You wiped your cheeks. “We can grab your things first.”

And so you did, his hand was in yours the entire drive there. Only letting go when you left the car.

When you both walked into his office, you were met with an enthusiastic shout of your name and a relieved Yuji pulling you into a hug. “I’m glad you’re okay.” His genuine admission brought a sad smile to your lips.

“You really had us worried there, Nanami looked like he was seconds away from a heart attack.” You frowned at Gojo’s admission, hating that you caused him to worry so much.

“Of course I was, she’s my wife you idiot.” He then turned to you with a smile. “Come on, let’s go home.” You gripped his hand and let him lead you back to his car.

He noticed the wince you hissed out as you pulled your seatbelt on. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah…I guess since the adrenaline is wearing off, I’m probably just sore.”

“Then let’s get you into a warm bath. Hmm?” He kissed the back of your hand.

You were gonna be okay.

He’d make sure of that.

[thebearer]

Annnnnnd how would Lip act in the situation of the devastation fic

i’ve had to think about this tbh. bc he kinda already had his own version with the unexpected pregnancy news of freddy.

but i started thinking in terms of lip’s reader leaving and taking the kids with her, and genuinely, i can’t think of a situation where that would happen and she would come back. like they’d be done.

now, with that being said, i could see lip and you getting into a fight- a huuuuugggeee fight. bigher than the one when you found out you were pregnant with amelia. this is based off of lip with best friend!reader who’s a elementary school teacher. she does pretty well, has a salary and insurance so wayyyy better than anything lip grew up with, but they’re not rich by any means. truly comfortable. lip’s working at the auto shop, still doing odd ball jobs but more full time, got promoted to a shift supervisor and got a raise. you both share a bank account together bc it makes it easier.

debby (bc it’s always debby and i’m a debby hater sorry) does something stupid. stupid enough to need bail money, stupid enough that she might get franny taken away or placed into custody elsewhere. debby calls lip, wailing and frantic for money, and lip, of course, rushes to give in.

comes to you all frantic and manic. “hey, uh, i-i need to move some money alright?”

“move some money? why?” you frown. “lip, are you- is everything alright?”

“debby got arrested.” lip mumbles. he’s known you for a while, a long while, he knows your disdain when it comes to debby and her carelessness. more so, his incessant need to always pull her out of the hole she dug herself in. “she needs money for bail.”

“woah, woah, hold on.” you stop him. “you’re- you’re not- lip, absolutely not.”

“what?” lip snaps. “absolutely not? what-“

“-lip.” you glare at him lightly. “no, we-we don’t have that kind of money right now. jude starts daycare next month, and the daycare fees are going to double-“

“-yeah because you insist on puttin’ them in that fancy ass one by your school.” lip scoffs. “couldn’t leave them with mrs. mcgee. too fuckin’ good for that.”

“yeah, i am too good to leave my babies with a lady who chain smokes and watches the price is right all day.” you glare. “i want my babies to go somewhere safe and- that’s not even the point right now. lip, no. you’re not doing it. we can’t afford it.”

“we can fucking afford it. don’t start this shit with me-“

“-lip, we might have the money for it, but that does not mean we can afford it. that’s our savings, our safety net-“

“-and this is my family. my sister.” lip gritted his teeth. “isn’t that what the safety nets for, huh? for shit like this? unexpected bad shit?”

“not for debby.” you snap, finality in your tone. “not for someone who continues to make bad decisions and not learn from them and then wants you to run and get her out of it every time. i’m sorry, lip. this time i’m not letting you do it.”

that escalates bc one, you told lip he couldn’t do something which just made him turn more stubborn, and two, he’s blinded with irrational rage.

“what about franny, huh? she’s your fuckin’ niece, you’re gonna just let her get put in the system-“

“-franny is more than welcome to stay here. i will gladly take her while debby’s figuring shit out, but you have kids you need to think of. two kid that are yours that you need to think of, lip!”

“don’t you fucking dare.” lip snarls. “don’t you use my kids against me.”

“i’m not using them against you! jesus, lip, you don’t get to just come in here and tell me what we’re doing with our money! that’s my money in there too, ok? i’m telling you right now, if you fuckin’ use my money on this, and not think about our kids, you might as well just not come home.”

lip is furious, leaves without another word, slamming the door hard behind him leaving you in the house with freddy and baby jude. you’re fuming, upset, hurt- he’s feeling the same. lip is furious, furious at you telling him what to do.

he ends up at ian’s house after coming dangerously close to going to the alibi. ian talks him down, tells him you’re right, which was not what lip wanted to hear.

“debby can wait. she’ll get out soon enough and she can figure it out.” ian rolls his eyes. “she shouldn’t have been such a fuckin’ moron.”

“what about franny then, huh? you’re gonna just let her go into the system? let cps get her until then?” lip spat furiously.

ian scoffs. “franny is with carl right now. he’s bringin’ her here tonight.”

lip burns with embarrassment, feeling petulant but still pissed. “hey, word of advice?” ian smirks. “quit bein’ a hard headed jack ass and go home and apologize to your wife before she comes to her senses and leaves your ass for good.”

and lip is still mad but it’s dwindling, a guilt replacing it instead. he just needed to calm down, to think straight. walking back to your house, he had the time to.

lip jammed his key in the door, the ridges not sliding the usual way, not clicking. so he tried again, turning the key with no luck- it didn’t budge. he pulled on the knob, twisting again and again but nothing. “stupid fuckin’ piece of shit door.” lip grumbles, knocking on the door.

he waits, huffing, knocking louder. when there was still no response, lip goes to pull out his phone, only then does he see the pink envelope with his name on it on the welcome mat.

lip opens it up to find a note:

“phillip,

since you insist on doing whatever you want without asking me or considering our family, i decided i would do the same. you can go stay with debby since you chose her over me and my kids.

ps. don’t bother with the lock, i had them changed xoxo”

he found his car keys under the envelope. lip was furious, absolutely fucking furious and sick and upset and just overwhelmed with every emotion possible. you hadn’t even given him his lighter, so he took a walk to the corner store to buy a pack of spirits and a lighter. he called you on his way back, not surprised when you didn’t pick up.

“hey, you know, i know you think you’re bein’ real fuckin’ funny but this shit isn’t funny, ok? i didn’t choose debby, i didn’t do shit, alright? so let me back in the house and let’s be adults about this.”

then another voicemail.

“alright, seriously? you’re not gonna let me in? you’re not gonna let me come say goodnight to freddy or jude? that’s fucked up. really fuckin’ fucked up.”

“you’re bitchin’ me out about not spending money, and-and you get that done? get the locks changed? how much did that cost huh? you can use money to be petty and childish but i don’t get a say in what i want to use it in?”

“ok this is ridiculous. let me in. talk to me. be a fuckin’ adult.”

“seriously? where the fuck am i supposed to sleep tonight? i know you’re fuckin’ seeing’ these- i can fuckin’ see you! just let me in!”

you don’t budge. don’t reply back, don’t answer the calls. he knows better than to bang on the door, wake jude or freddy up, and truthfully… he’s a little terrified at the moment. very scared that you’re truly done with him, that ian was right and you’d come to your senses.

so he slept in his car. in the driveway, thankful it was warm that night and he had a few spare shirts and things in the back. he waited until the next morning, when he knew you’d be up with the boys, to ring the doorbell.

his anger had vanished to fear and guilt, retreating back to you with his tail tucked between his legs, all sad eyes and gentle apologies that you deflected with anger still bubbling.

it definitely took him a while to make it up, a very long while before you actually gave him his new key. he had to make it up to you, work on his communication and his sharing especially with you.

[alexfromjersey]

LONG ROAD TO GRIEF & RECOVERY

Vada Cavell x G!P OC

word count:

warnings: none

a/n: quick little chapter. I kinda neglected this story for my other Jenna one…sorry 😬.

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GIF by lowkeyvada

“Sleeping Beauty has finally awakened from her slumber”

Deep breath in.

“I’m older than both of you so what I say goes”

Hold it.

“I wish you would just let your balls drop and talk to her. The longing gaze from across the room is so Twilight”

Hold it.

“Happy Birthday youngsters”

Hold it.

“DEVYN!”

Hold it.

“JORDAN!”

Hold it.

“You have to keep your eyes open. Don’t close them”

Exhale.

You let out the breath you were holding into the spirometer. The doctor took the device from you and logged in the numbers. It's been a week since the school shooting. You were shot in your lower abdomen and the bullet lodged into your hip bone. Thankfully, nothing major was nicked or hit, But the doctors had to leave the bullet in otherwise it would cause extensive bleeding.

“Okay Miss Vaughn, your lungs seem clear and strong. But if you start to have trouble breathing or cough/vomit blood, unbearable pain in your hip, go to the ER immediately” The Doctor insisted.

You nodded at his words. Your mother sat in the chair bouncing her leg up and down.

“What about the physical therapy for her leg? Is there a program or something?” Your mom asked.

“There is a physical therapy program we have but without insurance, it costs $250 per session. Based off Jordan’s injury, she will need sessions twice a week” The Doctor explained.

You look over at your mother who seems to be in deep thought. Your face falls when you realize where her thought process is going.

“Okay, thank you Doc” Your mother nodded. She grabs your crutch and helps you to stand. The two of you walk out the office together. You make it to the car and with a bit of a struggle, you manage to get in the front seat.

Your mom gets in the car and pulls out a cigarette. The two of you just sit in silence inside your heads.

“I know what you’re thinking. I know I promised I’ll never go back but…you need those sessions baby” Your mom mumbled.

“I don’t need them. I can do it myself. I can find tutorials on YouTube and do it like that. You don’t have to go back” You said.

“Jordan you’re not a Doctor. You don’t know if doing it yourself will help. These shifts at the diner barely pays the bills and I need you back at 100%” Your mom stated.

You stare out the window with a despondent expression.

“I’m doing this for you. You are my world and I love you forever” Your mom said and grabbed your face to look at her.

You look into her slighted dilated eyes to see nothing but genuine love in them.

“I love you too Mom” You spoke genuinely. Your mom gives you a kiss on the forehead before starting the car.

“Can I go by Quinton’s? I want to check up on him” You asked.

“Of course” Your mom answered.

For the next 15 minutes, you sat in the car with your head against the window looking at the passing scenery. The radio was softly playing in the background and the smell of cigarettes filled the car. You and Quinton hasn’t talk since he told you the news of Devyn passing. You were preoccupied with recovering but you also wanted to give him space to grieve.

It was going to hard moving on with life without Devyn. You felt about the idea. You didn’t want to move on. You wanted to be swallowed up with guilt. Guilt that you survived and he didn’t. Guilt that you could possibly be happy one day.

“Hey Jord, we’re here” Your mom shook you out of your thoughts. You looked up and saw the house you’ve been to numerous times. It felt weird, you started to get nervous. You kept rubbing your sweaty palms on your pants. Your mom took notice and she grabbed your hand.

“Hey, why don’t we go together” Your mom offered.

You swallow harshly and nod at her offer. She gave you an encouraging smile before getting out and coming to your side. She helped you exit the car and walk up the stairs. She knocked on the door for you.

A few moments later, the door opens to reveal Mrs. Hasland.

“I…I” You struggled to find words to say.

Suddenly, you are eloped into a huge. Mrs. Hasland hugged you tightly with tears pouring out her eyes. She kept muttering Thank You Lord into your shoulder over and over again. You wrap your arms around her tightly to return the hug.

Quinton appears from behind his mother. After his mother was finished hugging you, he pulled you into a tight hug too. The two of you pouring everything you needed to say in the hug.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A couple of days go by, you spent most of your time at Quinton’s house since your mother started having her company over. You didn’t want to see the men or hear the noises so you went over to Quinton’s, his parents not minding a bit.

You attended Devyn’s funeral which surprised you and everyone else because you absolutely despised funerals. If you could get out of going to one, you 100% did. But this was Devyn, one of your best friends. You couldn’t not go, you wanted to say goodbye to him one last time. You also didn’t want him to haunt you for not attending.

Another surprise was seeing Mia Reed and Vada at the service. You didn’t expect them to show up at all but you and Quinton appreciated it. The four of you all exchanged socials and phone numbers to keep in contact with one another and check up on each other.

Ding!

The sound of the text message sound brings you out of your thoughts. You grab your phone from the nightstand to see a text message from Vada.

Vada: hey (2:34 am)

Jordan: hey (2:35 am)

Vada: im surprised ur still up (2:35 am)

Jordan: could say the same thing for u (2:36 am)

Vada: i couldn’t sleep. the nightmares wont let me (2:36 am)

Jordan: same (2:37 am)

You watched as the text bubbles pop up and disappear. They pop up again with a new message.

Vada: this is probs a stupid question to ask but how r u? (2:39 am)

You sigh at the question. You could lie and say your okay or you could tell her the truth.

Jordan: fine as I can be. how bout u? (2:42 am)

Vada: good as anyone could be after something like that (2:43 am)

Jordan: understandable answer (2:43 am)

Vada: im sorry about devyn (2:45 am)

Jordan: thnx (2:48 am)

Vada: do u remember anything anything before u passed out (2:51 am)

Jordan: no. all I remember is falling out the stall and then blackness (2:52 am)

Jordan: truth be told I thought I died (2:52 am)

You don’t know why you lied to the girl. Maybe you think you are protecting from remembering anything from that…or protecting yourself.

Vada: we should hang out sometime (2:56 am)

Jordan: we should. when do u want to? (2:57 am)

Vada: maybe this weekend? (2:58 am)

Jordan: im down (2:59 am)

Vada: great 🙂 (3:01 am)

Jordan: 🙂 (3:01 am)

Vada: i should get some sleep. I’ll text u this weekend (3:02 am)

Jordan: looking forward to it (3:03 am)

Vada liked the message and you locked your phone. You placed your phone back on the charger on the nightstand.

“Looking forward to it, ugh” You cringed.

[xiii-e]

XIII▸ Well. I suppose I should introduce myself.

XIII▸ Hello, to all those I haven't met- which, will be most of you realistically. I'm Project XIII-E, otherwise refered to as Thirteen-E. Just Thirteen works too. After certain recent... events shall we say, a representative of the Union DoJ/HR insisted that I be given the oppertunity to meet with people outside of Harrison Purview while discussions regarding my status are underway, since things are dragging out somewhat.

XIII▸ So... this omninet account was created, with the assistance of Helios-8 [◂▸Hi folks o/ ] a fellow Project who understands all of this better than I do. He's volunteered to be my minder while I'm figuring all this out. For now, I suppose- more about me? What's important... I'm a trained field medic and basic mechanic, intended to opperate as a mobile assistance personnel wherever the fight is thickest. I can patch you, or your mech up from most things. I'm a Lancaster pilot; not the most common thing in the legion I know, but IPS-N knew what they were doing with the old lannies. I've made some alterations. M1 Leatherback is my pride and joy. I'm registered under the callsign Cicatrice, but my name is preferable. It's easier to say, and to spell.

XIII▸ Oh the uh- the Project thing. That might take a while to explain. I'll... I'll summarise it later. [ADDENDUM: summary_attached] That's all I can think of, from the top of my head. I'll do my best to aclimatise to any cultural differences outside of Harrison space during my time here. Please feel free to ask me questions, about myself or my stated expertise. It might be nice to make some more lasting connections, outside of deployment.

XIII▸ Signing off for now. I look forward to meeting you.

// loading echo.exe ... //... //... // now running echo.exe

◂▸ alrightyy, Turtie's got themself introduced, now it's my turn. howdy folks: My name is Helios-8, but I accept Lio if flashclone naming conventions turn your stomach. That's what me and Turtie are, by the way. Project-produced HA sanctioned flashclones. Being able to say that openly is why I run this nifty piece of software that keeps things below the line for any HA techs who might get on our case about legal distinctions, treaties, terms of service etc. Legally, we didn't say any of this shit.

◂▸I'm on a seperate datapad, I get my own that I can tinker with since I'm defined as an employed citizen in the tech sector, whereas Turtie's... well, it's complicated. Suffice to say they're not that. I'll explain in time. Important thing is, anything they want to say that might get them in trouble, they'll run through my interface and protective software. You want to see what either of us don't want HA seeing, we'll throw it into the void under the cloak of ECHO here. Something between insurance in case this all goes tits up, and a sort of controlled exposure therapy so Turtie can learn how to speak their mind.

◂▸I think it's important they get a break from the bullshit the Projects put us through, hence why I put myself forward to be their handler between deployments. My project line wasn't anything like Unlucky Thirteen, but- ehhh, that's a story better saved for the big expo. Sorry for being cryptic about shit. It'll come to light in its own time. This was meant to be an introduction but, I think you'll find out what you need to if you get talking to us.

Or don't; we'll be treating this thing like a diary anyways, and when ECHO's feeling up to big files I'll drop some of the more interesting pieces of history I have squirreled away too >:]c But, your eyes are enough. You saw us. You know we were here, and we were real, and that we were people too.

I'll try and keep things organised: ECHO should automatically tag anything she's cloaked with echo.exe if you're looking for our back and forth, and I'll file any large files, exposes etc that may or may not actually come from me under turtleshell.dox ; for incoming chatter, just check out You've Got Mail

◂▸anyway, cheers for reading. see you round the net -Helios-8

-----

// ooc: hiii this is @mossydice / @mossylocks depending on where you may know me- and this blog is a bit of an experiment!! I'm pretty shy overall so how much actual rping I manage to do is Very up in the air, but at the very least this'll serve as a fun in character blog for me to exposit about my scrungly Thirteen-E; I won't get to play them for probably another year or so yet, so this is a fun way to explore their character and some of the lore specific to them that I've come up with in the mean time!! ^-^ I look forward to doing more ic writing!! If you want to talk about anything, ask any clarifying questions etc please feel absolutely free to pop into my dms \o/

IMPORTANTLY: Thirteen-E's whole deal can get a bit gritty in places, so I'll be trying to include cw's where I think they might be revelent. However this whole blog is going to play heavy into dehumanisaiton and the comodification of human bodies if the flashclone premise didn't make that obvious, so if these are topics you'd rather not read about at length in your fiction, no hard feelings!! thanks for stopping by o7

[bibitybobityboobies]

Wandanat x GN! Reader

(This is the first thing I've wrote in like 7 years 😭)

Word Count : 2,756

You listened whilst Steve explained what you're to do on the mission you'd been assigned to with some other members of the team.

This was your first mission since you were rescued from Hydra. The focus of the mission was to storm a Hydra base and recover a hard drive with some information about a top secret project on it. Its a 5 person mission, one of those 5 people being the man who your supposed to be listening too. Steve Rogers, the amazing Captain America. After spending 70 years in the ice you'd think he'd be a little faster at talking then this. On your left was the Winter Soldier. Supposedly he was the Captains best friend. James, or Bucky as he'd insist you call him, was once one of hydras puppets as well. Now recovered and ready to take down Hydra he's one of the teams best Soldiers. Across the table from you sits one of the teams best assailants. Natasha Romanoff, The Black Widow. Now you don't know much about her other that she's a great fighter and you don't want to be against her. As scary as she already is, sitting next to her is her girlfriend, Wanda Maximoff. Agent Maximoff is the one who managed to catch you and finally bring you into the Avengers grasp. While you were trying to defend yourself from her girlfriend she'd snuck up on you and trapped you with her scarlet red powers. You live across the hall from their shared room and yet you never talk. You aren't mad at them or hostile but your not friendly either. You are just Agents for the same team. They've tried to be kind to you and welcome you to their team, but you don't understand why. You've already tried to hurt them once and your sure Natasha has a scar on her left bicep from your first encounter. Not to mention when Hydra came looking for their prized pupils and the team had to defend you. So many different members got hurt trying to protect you from going back there and you can't understand why they'd try so hard.

Steve finally wraps up his speech by the time you've remembered where you are and within minutes your on a quintet sitting next to the dynamic redheaded duo that is Agents Maximoff and Romanoff. Your in the middle of the three seats with Wanda on your left and, Natasha on your right.

"So," Wanda begins, "are you nervous? I remember my first mission after arriving at the compound." You don't understand why she's talking to you. It's not like you were friends. You were just the weapon of the team. Wanda frowns upon hearing your thought that are, unbeknownst to you, extremely loud. "No. I was raised to be the perfect Soldier I've no need to be nervous." Was all you said back. But that's not the truth. Despite being through much worse you couldn't help but feel a tinge of anxiety about the mission. What if it's an ambush? What if someone on the team gets hurt? Or worse what if someone dies? What if someone's captured? What i-

You were broken from your thoughts by a hand waving in front of your face. "Hellooo? Y/n?" Natasha's hand stopped waving after you responded with a quiet "Yes, sorry just trying to go through the plan again."

"Hmm." You look over at Wanda, "Are you-" before she can finish, you hear Steve's voice. "Alright! Buck, Nat, and I are going to walk ahead and clear the east wing while, you two," he says pointing at you and Wanda, "are going to go through the west wing. Remember were looking for a hard drive it should be on the Bases main Guard's belt. Any questions?" When no one asked anything he nodded and walked back to the cockpit yelling out, "We should arrive in about 30 minutes. Since we are in the air your free to unbuckle and do whatever."

You immediately unbuckle and go over to the weapons area to insure yours are all in check. And also to avoid talking to either of the beautiful redheads who seem to constantly plague your mind. After insuring all your blades are sharpened and all of your firearms are loaded you, place them in their rightfully spots. Three throwing blades strapped to your left thigh, and one on each calf. A regular blade strapped to the right side of your hip, a pistol holstered on your right thigh and another on your left hip. And your last weapon, a silenced assault rifle on your back. By the time your done the jet has landed and your on your way towards the base.

"Alright," Steve whispers to your left, "when we get in there you two take the west side of the base, and keep comms on at all times." You nod and follow Steve towards the entrance. With Steve and Natasha on both sides of the door with James and Wanda getting ready to rush in you deliver a swift kick to the door and then pull your gun up from your left hip to rush in after the others. Upon running in you don't hear or see anything. "Odd. Stay on high alert it could be an ambush." Captain says before leading James and Natasha down the East Hallway. You walk away and hear a quick "be safe, Moya lyubov," from Natasha, you wait at the entrance way of the west hallway for Wanda to catch up. "Stay safe Y/L/N, comms on." You hear Natasha say before she takes off. As you and Wanda walk down the West Wing and clear room after room with no Hydra Agents to be found you become increasingly worried at the no signs of life. You come to the last door of the west side and walk up with your assault rifle in hand. "Are you ready?" You ask the Sokovaion with her hands raised in a scarlet hue, she nods and uses her powers to open the metal doors. With the doors open and your gun ready to shoot you run in and quickly look around the room.

"There's nothing on the east wing, no people, no tech, no hardware, nothing." You hear James say. "There's no one on the east side either. We've got an empty place." Wanda replies. "Wait- I think I've found something. C'mere, in this corner there's a draft. And the wall moves a little bit." You say while pushing on the wall the far side of the room. Wanda comes over to you to help you push, "They're right there is a moving wall here." A secret room. Classic.

Captains the one to respond, "We're on our way over be careful." With a nod of agreement from Agent Maximoff you begin pushing. After a few feet in you can enter the room behind the false wall. In the room lies nothing but two briefcases and a table which they rest upon. Knowing immediately something is wrong you try to tell Wanda but the briefcases open before you get the chance one holding the hard drive and the other a bomb that reads 10 seconds left before it explodes.

10. You look at Wanda and she starts to run back towards the room ushering you to follow.

9. You turn back and run towards the cases.

8. Wanda turns around and yells "Y/N WHAT ARE YOU DOING? WE NEED TO LEAVE!" You reach the cases.

7. You grab the hard drive and turn back around telling her to run.

6. You run towards the first room that Wanda's already in.

5." THERES A BOMB GO TO BACK!" You yell through comms grabbing Wanda's arm and ushering her towards the hallway.

4. Still a long ways to go to the exit.

3. You grab Wanda's arm and throw her in the containment room with the hard drive. Knowing that the containment rooms the only one that is 100% bombproof. But the door only shuts from the outside.

2. You shut the door and throw your throwing blade towards the nearby 2 story window.

1. The window shatters and you hear the thundering boom of the bomb as you dive through.

As your thrown through the window you hear Wanda screaming your name through comms. As you hit the ground you know you've definitely broken some bones and when you start to lose unconsciousness you see Natasha running up to you while Steve and James run towards the entrance to get Wanda out of the containment room. "I hope she's not hurt." Is the only thing you manage to say to Natasha before passing out.

When you awake again your met with a pat just short of a slap to the side of your face, "C'mon Y/n/n wake up, please." You hear Wanda's voice ringing in your ears. Groaning you open your eyes just to immediately close them at the bright light in your eyes. "Oh thank Thor, THEY'RE AWAKE BRUCE!" Natasha yells. You then open your eyes again to find your in the med bay with Natasha and Wanda looking down at you. "Why'd you go and do that!? You could've died!" Wanda immediately asks the panic evident in her voice. Why was she so worried? You finished the mission and everyone got out safe? Bruce came up and the girls stepped back to give him space. After doing some doctory stuff he told you, "Your incredibly lucky, Y/L/N. You've got a concussion so no TV, or anything overestimating to the brain. The fall also broke your right ankle and 5 of your ribs. So no training, or working out, for at least 6 weeks, though I'd prefer if you waited for 3 months. And because I know your stubborn and think you don't need rest, I'm counting on you two," he looked up from you to look at Natasha, who looked like she was staring daggers into your soul, and Wanda who looked like she was about to freak out, "to make sure they do this, and that the won't go crazy on the nurse I'll send to their room everyday." Both girls seen the look of fear and panic cross past your face. Wanda hearing your thoughts asks if they can speak to you alone for a moment.

After Bruce agrees and walks out, an awkward silence falls through the room. You don't know why but you feel like you've done something wrong and refuse to look at either of the redheads who are currently just staring at you. Trying to break the silence you ask, "Did everyone make it out ok? Did we complete the mission?" That obviously wasn't the right answer because Natasha's answer was nothing short of angry. "No Y/n, everyone did NOT make it back okay. I don't know if you've noticed but you're in a CAST." You finally turned your head to look at them and seen Natasha about to continue until Wanda stepped in. "Nat, wait. Y/n, you did complete the mission but we would've been fine without the hard drive. We could've made it out just fine, so why'd you turn back?" As she finished Wanda walked up to your bedside and sat down. "I didn't want my first mission to fail. And I knew that the containment room would keep you safe. I made sure you and the target were safe and secure. I succeeded in my goal. Did I do good? I tried to. I'm sorry." Upon hearing you say this Natasha sighed and walked to the other side of the bed, surprising you by pulling you into a gentle hug that Wanda soon joined. "You did amazing y/n. Next time let's try to not almost kill ourselves though yeah?" She softly said, laying a kiss on your forehead. "We know you don't want a nurse. So, we're wondering, if you're okay with it, if you'd like for us to help you with stuff?" Wanda murmured not removing herself from the hug. "I'd.. yeah. I'd like that a lot more, Wanda if it doesn't bother you or Natasha." You hesitantly said waiting for them to laugh and ridicule you for being so stupid. "OK! Well I'll go get Bruce and then when he gets back we'll get you signed out and up to our room so you can sleep. And you can just call me Nat, y/n/n." She said removing herself from the hug to go get Bruce. As Natasha went to do that Wanda got up and got everything ready for when Bruce got back.

After signing some papers and Bruce explaining what medicine you needed to take, and at what time. He also explained what you can't and can do. As he explained more and more of the things you'd need help with the more you felt like a burden and felt bad for what Natas- Nat, and Wanda would have to do. "Actually, Dr. Banner- if I may interject?" At his nod you continued, "I think I can do most of that stuff. I don't want to bother Mrs. Romanoff and Mrs. Maximoff." At this they both looked at you with such a look you could feel yourself wanting to shrink in on yourself.

"You wouldn't be bothering us, we insist. Please just let us help you y/n." Wanda said with the most convincing eyes you couldn't help but to nod and sign the last paper. Wanda left to grab a wheelchair while Natasha helped you sit up and grabbed the stuff from Bruce.

When Wanda came back they helped you into the wheelchair and handed you a stuffed (whatever your favorite animal is) stuffie to hold on to. You smiled at Natasha and muttered a small "thank you." Before looking back down at your new friend. Whilst Natasha pushed you Wanda held all your special stuff from Bruce.

When you got back up to the hallways they took you into your room to grab you some pj's. "Y/n you can't sleep in the hospital robe, it'll just take a second I promise." Nat promised after you whined about how you could sleep in this and that you're tired. After you picked out some comfortable clothes Natasha helped you change while Wanda made the bed and got your medicine ready. Whilst helping you Natasha kept making terrible puns to help it not be so awkward and Wanda couldn't help but to smile at every giggle of yours she heard. After getting you into pajamas, brushing your teeth, and washing your face she brought you back into their bedroom where Wanda had changed into her own set of pajamas and done her nightly routine. Natasha kissed your cheek before walking over to grab her own pajamas to go change into. Wanda came over and helped you up into their bed. She helped you move to the middle of the bed and then climbing to the other side, making sure to be careful of your legs that's in a cast. She gave you a glass of water and handed you your medicine. Natasha came back from the bathroom and then grabbed and ice pack from the freezer to put on your ri bs. "Noooooo, that's cold." You whined, "Sorry dorogoy," Wanda said from behind you, "Doctors orders." Natasha added on with a small smile. Sitting next to you on the bed she gently placed it on your bandaged ribs over your shirt. Small talk and asking what you wanted to do tomorrow made the 5 minute timer seem like 1. After Wanda used her magic to put the ice pack away they laid you down and laid next to you on either side. "Goodnight, detka." Wanda said as she laid a kiss on your nose, watching it scrunch up adorably before leaning over to give her girlfriend a kiss.

Remember that y/n girlfriend. They're dating, they're just being friendly.

That night you fell asleep to thoughts of the two extremely attractive redheads surrounding you. Even with broken ribs, a broken ankle, and a headache caused by Thor himself, you found yourself smiling happier than ever. Because even after everything Hydra put you through, you found two new friends. And even if your heart stung at being friends you were perfectly happy with just having at least one person to find comfort in. And to have two makes it even better.

[themuseinthewoods]

Imagine Professor X and Logan taking you to a Christmas market

(sort of a part two of my imagine wrapping christmas presents with Professor X) reader speaks spanish because of plot. My spanish isn’t great so I am sorry if there are any mistakes.Gn!teen!reader with a platonic! Sort of grandfather relationship with Professor X and a sort of father relationship with Logan and a sort of sibling relationship because I’m a sucker for a fluffy found family. idk that logan gif just reminds me of my father figure

Jean had insisted that you bundle up, placing a blue scarf and hat on your head and helped you zip up the black puffer jacket before she would allow you to follow the Professor in his wheelchair.

“Professor? Where exactly are we going?” “There is a market I have wanted to attend for many years and I think you shall like it.” A popping noise sounded beside you and Kurt was leaning standing there holding your gloves. “zese are for you.” he pushed them into your outstretched hand, his thick accent seemed more prominent than normal. “And I vas told to check zthat you had vinter boots.”

You stomped your feet to showcase the black boots you had put on under Scotts super vision. “Thanks Kurt, I’ll see you later, okay?” You had promised to help Kurt with his disguise and then go to Catholic mass with him, even if you were hesitant, it meant a lot to the mutant for you to pose as a teenager, helping their relative through mass.

Logan, surprisingly, was waiting to pick you and the professor up, after you helped Prof. X into the passenger's seat, you climbed into the middle of the back seat. “Hola.” You shyly greet Logan, he was always kinda although he had a round about way of doing things and you had no idea why. Except perhaps that you were his best student in his history class. “How are you, professor?” Logan chuckles around his cigar as he pulls out of the gates of the school and off down the road. “Call my Logan, bub.”

You stayed silently, Professor X and Logan discussing things going on at the school until Logan pulled into the parking lot of a well lit fair like spot. There were lights reflecting on the snow vendors selling crafts, food and insurance littered the area. “Wow!” You exclaimed, leaping out the truck of excitement, your boots crunching in the white powder beneath your feet. Logan helped you dig the Professors wheelchair from the truck bed and you helped him into it.

The Professor allowed you to run around (as long as you stayed in their sight) and you were not only able to find some soothing tea for Jean. A book you could write in full of all the things you loved about your friend and you felt Kurt needed it. All that was left was to find gifts for Logan and Professor X. You were left wandering around speaking to vendors when you noticed a gift basket, full of assorted goodies with a book on minds. You came up to the vendor and noticed that one of them was struggling to understand English.

Excited, you hurried up to him, swallowing your anxiety. “¿Hola, cómo estás? ¿Cuánto cuesta este?” You gesture to the basket and he visibly lights up. “Cuesta quince dólares, precio especial para ti!” He spoke excitedly and you happily dug out the cash to pay him before taking your basket and waving as you walked away.

Hiding your basket behind your back you made your way up the familiar pair, Logan was looking at some specialty cigars and Prof. X was in the next tent over, speaking with a soap maker who you thought looked suspiciously like a mutant. “Hey kid.” Logan beckoned you over and you came to stand nervously by him in the cigar tent, smelling of rich tobacco and soft leather. “Hmm?” “The Professor mentioned you needed to find gifts.” “Que?” You spoke, trying to maintain innocences. Logan raised his eyebrows in confusion. “What?” You repeat the phrase in English this time. “Cuban cigars.” He winked at you and walked away towards the Professor. “Hola, ¿tu padre dijo que querías comprarle unos puros?” “Sí.” A little rattled by the woman calling Logan your father, you completed the transaction and she gave you a bag to hide your packages in.

Making your way back to the Professor and Logan, you realized that the vendor you had just spoken to, had a tail.

Translations for Spanish words:

Hola- Hello

¿Hola, cómo estás? ¿Cuánto cuesta este?- hello, how are you? How much does this cost?

Cuesta quince dólares, precio especial para ti!-it costs fifteen dollars, a special price for you!

Que?-what?

Hola, ¿tu padre dijo que querías comprarle unos puros?- hello your father said you wished to buy him some cigars?

Sí-yes

[she-karev]

Carina’s Baby Shower (Maya x Carina Sweet Imagine)

Age Rating: 12+

Chapters: One of Two

Fandom: Grey’s Anatomy/Station 19

Ship: Maya Bishop x Carina DeLuca

Canon Episode: After Season 20 Episode 10 and After Station 19 Series Finale

AN: Happy Pride guys! I wanted to do baby showers for Carina and Maya when they were both pregnant so watch out for another one shot tonight with Maya as the pregnant woman of honor. Like and reblog below and let me know what you think.

Summary: Carina has a surprise baby shower hosted by Maya at the hospital.

Words: 1953

November 4th, 2023

Carina walks out of an exam room blowing air out as the six-month pregnant belly in front of her feels heavier than she thought it would. She’s been an OB for over 10 years and now she’s finally on the other side of what her patients feel for nine months before she helps them deliver.

All the times she told the women it would be a beautiful journey probably felt like punching her in the face because Carina feels exhausted not to mention bloated and hormonal. Despite all of those feelings there are no words to describe how happy she is to finally be pregnant and have a family with the woman she loves.

Ever since they found out there were pregnant Maya made it her mission to make this the easiest pregnancy for Carina. Every morning, she makes Carina a cup of coffee and insists on only one cup a day. She also packs Carina a nutritious and full lunch for two people and Carina admits that Maya’s cooking skills have improved since they adopted Liam. While she works Maya sends Carina little heart and baby emoji’s that make her heart flutter. And before bed Maya tells the baby in Carina’s belly a story of her day on the job highlighting all the times, she saved the day to Carina’s amusement.

The young OB has to admit that being pampered isn’t as nauseating as she thought it would be. If anything, she wishes she got knocked up in the first place so she can get some of Maya’s special foot massages.

Carina smiles at that as she rubs her belly that is currently being occupied by her and Maya’s daughter. When they found out the sex at the 20-week ultrasound they were happy to hear the baby was healthy also that they would have a little girl of their own. The aunties love their little niece Lucy DeLuca so much and can’t wait to have a little girl to buy pink clothes for.

“Carina.” Her thought train stops in a halt as her sister-in-law, Amber DeLuca, approaches her in her light blue scrubs fit for surgical residents, “I need you on an urgent OB consult let’s move.”

Carina follows Amber who is powerwalking, “Can you slow down? My feet aren’t as quick as they used to be.”

“Sorry.” Amber slows down so she and Carina can walk side by side, “Yeah, I remember my time in the pregnancy seat. Except back then I was one of the only two residents in a rundown program and I was trying to make sure baby interns didn’t kill my patients. It felt like I was walking on a landmine on swollen ankles.”

Carina chuckles, “It feels that way for me too and then you have to deal with patients getting annoyed when you go to the restroom to pee.”

Amber groans, “I know I hate that and most of them are men who don’t have a woman at home, so they don’t get the sacrifices and changes our body makes to accommodate a temporary guest. And the paperwork. Curse the paperwork!”

Carina growls under her breath understanding, “I know! I have to change my will and fill out my maternity leave forms by the end of the month plus the life insurance. How did you get it done while you were an overworked resident?”

“Easy I got Kwan to do it for a chance to scrub in on my lap appy.” Carina gapes at Amber using an intern to fill out her papers, “What? They know intern work is mostly scut, I’m the chief resident and as a resident I have utilize my resources.”

“That is so evil!” Carina says with a smile, “Yet brilliant.”

Amber grins proudly, “If you want as a gift to your baby, I can get Kwan to fill out your papers for you like he did mine.”

Carina wants to say no but the offer is so tempting, “Fine but for my baby that’s it!”

“Of course.”

Carina sees they are still walking down the hall and gets curious on their destination, “Who’s the patient?”

“Oh, she’s a very pregnant lady with many complications.” Amber opens the door to the exam room.

“SURPRISE!”

Carina is taken back by the multiple people in the exam room that is filled with diapers, plushies, baby clothes and many other gifts that you get someone at a baby shower. Maya, Andrew, Warren, Andy, Bailey and Jo are in the center of the crowd smiling with the rest consisting of OB’s and nurses. Carina laughs at the attention and looks at Amber who shrugs with a grin.

“Oh my god! Bambina, I told you I didn’t want anything big at work.” Carina tells Maya with a smile.

Maya smiles, “Yeah but with your hormones I didn’t want to risk upsetting you if I did nothing.”

“And you made a promise with the most type-A woman on the planet so a party where you get stuff so you can be more prepared was a given.” Andy says knowing Maya too well.

Andrew hands a plastic cup to Carina, “Sparkling grape juice for the mom to be.”

“Thank you.” Carina sips the juice and sees the cupcakes on a platter Jo Karev is holding, “Aw you made me cupcakes?”

Jo smiles and holds out the cupcakes over her equally sized pregnant belly, “Yeah their from me and Alex. As a woman who is also pregnant, I know the thing you crave more than ever is red velvet cake. Unless you’re not in which case I can get you another cake your craving right now.”

Carina laughs, “No I love red velvet thank you.”

Andrew grabs a brown floral like cupcake and takes a bite, “Mmm these are pretty good, and you did a good job making it look like a flower.”

“Actually, their vaginas.” Jo explains, causing Andrew to stop midchew and Amber to widen her eyes and look at the pastry.

From the common eye it looks like white, brown and pink flowers on top of red velvet cupcakes. But from a doctor’s point of view, you can discern the flowers as vulvas with pink frosting as the tip.

Carina chuckles, “They are!”

Her brother swallows the cupcake he’s eating despite his discomfort, “Still good a little disturbing but good.”

He hands his half-eaten cupcake to Amber who eats it greedily, “Wow I didn’t think pregnancy made you a master chef Jo.”

Jo chuckles, “Me and Alex were up all night with our anatomy textbooks and baker’s hat.”

Amber chuckles before getting Andrew’s gift that is inside a white bag, “And your brother got you a teething set for ages 0-12 months.” Carina awes at the gift.

“Trust me you’ll thank me for getting you a set.” Andrew tells Carina, “Once they start to teeth that’s when the cuteness ends and reality hits.”

Maya chuckles, “Trust me we already know Liam was a very cranky little boy at three months. And we had to go through seven toys before we found the right one for that stage, so this saves a lot of trips back and forth from the store thanks.”

“And…” Andy goes to the restroom opens the door and wheels out a Mockingbird double stroller with a large teddy bear plush in one seat and a stuffed elephant in the other. The couple look at the gift like its candy, “The whole station pitched in, and we got you guys a new set of wheels for the babies.”

“Aww thank you, tell the others thank you from us.” Carina sniffles and chuckles, “I don’t know whether to laugh or cry.”

“I know the hormones make me so imbalanced too.” Jo tells Carina sharing her pain.

“And the interns decided to pitch in and get you a gift too.” Amber motions to Kwan, Millin, Adams, Yasuda and Griffith who grin and wave at Carina and Maya.

Maya raises an eyebrow at the intimidating chief resident, “Did they decide or were they forced by you?”

Amber turns to the inters with a glare causing them all to say, “Decided.”

Maya chuckles and whispers to Andrew, “Wow and people say I’m type-A.”

“Oh, you have no idea.” Andrew whispers back from seeing his wife at work and at home.

Amber smiles and hands a large pink diaper backpack to Maya, “It’s a new diaper bag in case the old one is worn out. There’s already bottles, formula and diapers inside the bag and a few small toys.”

Maya looks inside the bag to confirm with a smile, “Wow I am so glad you’re a scary resident baby surgeons have nightmares about.” The interns chuckled confirming Maya’s comment.

“And my personal gift to you guys…” Amber puts her hand on Benson Kwan’s shoulder facing Carina, “is Kwan.”

Maya looks up from the backpack with surprised wide eyes, “I’m sorry?”

Kwan chuckles uneasily and whispers to Amber, “I don’t like babies.”

“And babies don’t like you.” Amber retorts back and explains to the couple, “I’m giving you guys Kwan so he can fill out all of that annoying paperwork he filled out for me when I was pregnant and cranky.”

Kwan groans, “Can’t you get Adams to do it or Yasuda?”

“They don’t have your penmanship.” The interns snicker at Amber’s comment, “Do this for both of them and I’ll let you scrub in on my next three surgeries.”

At that the interns yell over each other insisting they do it instead to Amber’s annoyance who yells out, “Quiet!”

The interns quiet in fear again with Kwan smiling that he’s not at the receiving end for once.

Kwan asks for clarification, “Do I get to cut?”

“If you don’t annoy me and be your usual self I’ll think about it.”

Kwan turns to the couple of the hour with an eager grin, “I’m at your service Dr. DeLuca and Firefighter Bishop, or is it DeLuca-Bishop? Or is it Bishop-DeLuca?”

“DeLuca-Bishop.” The women confirm with a smile.

“Great just give me your information and I’ll get started on the paperwork.” Kwan tells them causing the women to look at a grinning Amber with gratitude.

“Okay he is by far the best gift.”

Carina nods in agreement with Maya, “Not by far no paperwork is a miracle!”

Jo groans and whispers to Andy who looks amused, “A personal scut monkey, why didn’t I think of that? I just got them flower vagina cupcakes.”

Andy chuckles, “Look on the bright side, maybe she can give him to you at your baby shower.”

Jo gasps, “Your right, god I love having a chief resident for a sister-in-law.”

“So do Maya and Carina.” Andy and Jo clink their glasses and sip the sparkling grape juice.

Ben and Bailey step up next and hand Carina a Medela breast pump bag, “Breast pump for the milk. It’s quick so you can do it in between shifts plus you can carry it everywhere you go. Also, it’s virtually painless that’s most important.”

Carina awes, “Aww thank you both so much really I love this thank you all so much.” Carina sniffles and few stray tears come out causing her to laugh, “And now I’m crying.” The others chuckle too, “Okay what games do we have? I need to stop crying so bring out the games!”

On cue Amber brings out the baby bingo for them to play. While they prep, Maya stands in front of Carina caressing her large belly with a loving grin.

“Ti amo.”

Carina smiles at Maya speaking Italian, “Anch'io ti amo.”

The women share a brief but tender kiss and get back to the baby shower their friends threw for them.

Maya’s Baby Shower Here

[whitefangz]

sorry i need to overshare on tumblr dot com. nothing serious but it might be long so im putting it under a readmore

i started seeing a therapist in june and just stopped and i am not intending this to come across as anti therapy in any way but im like LASKJF idk. i need to tell somebody else about this. I contacted her in like mid May i think and i specifically sought her out bc she said she does cognitive behavioral therapy and ive read thats a good option for people dealing w my issues and started seeing her in june and like. The first couple of times were fine i honestly didnt really like it but everyone and their dog is always like ohhh it always kinda sucks at first and also i simply hate talking about my feelings etc so i expected that. fine whatever. anyway red flag number one was that she didnt seem to understand how insurance works at all and said i could just pay her on venmo. and i was like. Um ok. but she said i wouldnt need to for a couple weeks so i just left it alone. red flag number two is that one time she brought her enormous dog and it lunged at me and tried to bite me in the face. LASJKFG which to be honest. I almost walked out at that point and i mean she was very apologetic + usual dog owner "he never does that im so sorry!!!!!!" and removed him from the office but like Who fucking brings their horse sized dog to a therapy appt without asking if the person is ok with it. And like she was accredited and shit its not like i was going to see someone in their basement. i would ignore these if i thought her sessions were like remotely helpful but all she would do was like. Ask me about what i did and then tell me not to do that. Like i pace around the house a lot when im anxious. and she would be like well try not to do that. ok! see you next week. Like. Do you think ive not thought of that one. she also kept insisting that my phobia has to be like rooted in some kind of trauma or that its actually Secretly about being afraid of embarrassment and i would be like. i dont think its either of those things. and then she'd be like Ok well i don't really know how to help you :/ Which honestly idk. i was put off by her saying that repeatedly as is but then last week she just decided she was going to make me try exposure therapy which i told her before i don't want to do / don't feel ready to do right now. i just want to focus on managing the anxiety first. and she just like told me to do it anyway LJKFD idk. i emailed her to tell her i didnt want to continue and she was like that's ok. you might want to try EMDR therapy. btw you still ahve to pay me on venmo. and im just sitting here like 1) No i dont think i will need to try that and 2) I paid her thru my insurance like a normal person LASKJF like i dont know. i feel like i dodged a bullet or something. i'll try again someday but at this point im just happy to stop paying $20 a week for a woman to tell me to meditate. perhaps this is an uninteresting wall of text but if you read this far picture me shaking your hand. just a life update from me

[walker-extended-universe]

Cry for Help, Chapter 4

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3

Relationship(s): Cordell Walker/Emily Walker

Tags: Canonical Character Death, Mystery, Hospitals, Angst, Hurt No Comfort

Summary: What happened to Emily

Written for @medwhumpmay prompt 30- From the Brink of Death

Taglist: @theladywyn, @ihavepointysticks, @klaatu51, @itsjessiegirl1, @neptunium134

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

Ten Years Ago

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Walker, but we've done everything we can. The bullets hit him in some vital places. His chance of survival is low. Even if he does make it, he'll likely never walk again, and that’s being optimistic. We won’t know the full extent of his condition until he wakes up, but we’re not sure that will happen either. The next 48 hours will be critical. We’ll do everything we can but it may be time to have some difficult conversations with your family about what’s next.”

Emily nodded. “Thank you, doctor,” she said calmly before turning and walking back to the waiting room.

This was always a possibility, she knew that. The kind of work Cordell did was dangerous on a good day and deadly on a bad day. That was why she’d insisted on getting life insurance policies and making sure they set up a will soon after the kids were born. They needed to be prepared if anything happened.

She thought doing all that would give her security in a moment like this. She thought knowing that no matter what happened in the field, their family would be taken care of, would help her grieve. She thought having a few less things to worry about would ease her mind.

But all she could think about was what the hell she was supposed to do once he flatlined.

Stella and August were still in elementary school, only just starting to form the most important memories of their lives. They thought their father was a hero and the most indestructible man alive. Just last week Cordell had promised August they could check out the local cub scouts group because August wanted to try camping. He and Stella had just started reading the next Hank the Cowdog book together. She’d been refusing to read the next chapter until her dad came home.

They were both so young, had so much life to live, so many milestones to experience…..

And Cordell wouldn’t be there for any of them.

She sat in the waiting room for over an hour just trying to wrap her head around this. She tried to tell herself that a miracle could happen, that her husband could wake up and at least be alive if not completely 100%. She could work around a disability and him finding a new job. Their kids could still have their father, he could still be there for their most important moments. It would all be fine, just fine.

She couldn’t even convince herself. How on earth was she supposed to tell Stella and August? Or his parents? Or their friends?

Her phone binged with a text, sharply knocking her out of her thoughts. Opening her phone,s he saw it was Abby, asking for an update. She responded that they would talk when she got home and quickly left the building. 

On the drive home, she rehearsed what she would say to her family. It’s not looking good, but the doctors will do everything they can. There’s a chance he could pull through. We have to believe in that.

She had to believe there was a chance. She had to. If she didn’t-

It was 2 in the morning and she sat alone at a 4-way stop, a plain crossroads about a mile from the Walker ranch. No one else was around and she couldn’t bear to tell anyone that Cordell was dying. Not yet.

Her forehead fell onto the steering wheel and she cried. She cried for her husband, dying for people who would never truly appreciate him. She cried for a marriage that should’ve lasted so much longer. She cried for the childhood Stella dn August wouldn’t have. She cried for a family that lost a son, a brother, a husband, a father far too soon.

She cried, because there was nothing else she could do. She cried because if she didn’t do it then, she would break down at the worst moment.

“There, there darling, it’s not so bad.” A kind voice broke through her tears and someone pushed a tissue at her face.

“Thank you,” she murmured, wiping her eyes and blowing her nose. She flipped down the sun visor to check the damage her tears had done on her makeup. No sense showing up looking like a wreck.

In the mirror, over her shoulder, she saw a man sitting in the backseat. She screamed and reached for the gun in her glove compartment.

“Now, now, no need for that.” A strong hand gripped her arm and she stilled. “Come now, you don’t want to shoot the man who’s going to help you.”

She glared at him through the rear-view mirror. “Help me with what, exactly? I’m married, just in case the ring didn’t tip you off, and my husband-”

“Is currently dying in a hospital 10 miles from here. Yes, he’s terrifying. I’m quaking in my boots.”

Emily swallowed hard. She was alone in a car with a man that clearly had disdain for her husband. Who knew what he planned to do? “Wh-What do you want?”

“I want to make you an offer.” He blinked and his eyes turned red. She gasped and- in a blink- he’d moved from the backseat to the passenger seat. “Look, we both know you’re stalling going home because you don’t want to tell the kiddos and his parents that he’s dying. And I know you don’t want him to die either. I don’t blame you; he’s a good man. And I can help you with that, for a price.”

Emily stared at him, pressing her back against her door. “I- What? How did-”

The man sighed. “I’ll spare you the theatrics and explain: I’m a demon and I’m offering you a deal. I fix your husband right as rain, and you sign your soul over to me.”

She shook her head. Sure, he was a demon. She could buy that. She was raised Catholic, after all. But a deal? No. No, Cordell wouldn’t want that. “So you save his life and I drop dead? I’ll pass.”

“Who said anything about you dropping dead? I mean, you will eventually. All humans do. But it wouldn’t be a fair deal if I just made you switch places in the hospital now would it? Hardly worth a soul. No, I have a better offer.” He smirked. “You get to keep your soul- and your life- for say… 10 years. 10 long, beautiful years with your husband. You get to watch him advance his career, raise your children with him, maybe get around to paying off that house. Sure, you won’t reach retirement age, but 10 years is a long time. There’s a lot a smart lady like you can do with that time.”

10 years. That was a long time. Stella and August would be in high school by then. Practically out of the house. Cordell had enough of a support network that he could manage without her for a bit. And at that age, he wouldn’t have to worry about them acting out if he wanted to get married again. Maybe-

No. What was she thinking? Selling her soul to a demon wasn’t the answer. Cordell would never forgive her if he found out. He wouldn’t want this for her- no one would. And how could she live with herself, knowing she doomed him to suffer losing her in the end?

Unless.

“10 years isn’t enough. I’d give you my soul for-”

“I’m not in the business of negotiating,” the demon said firmly. “10 years is a more than generous offer. Most people would get less, but I’m feeling sorry for you.” When Emily didn’t say anything, he sighed. “Listen, I know this is a tough choice, but the way I see it you don’t have much of one. Either your husband dies and everyone loses one of the best people they know, or you take the opportunity that’s been dropped in your lap and save him. It’s not perfect, I know, but nothing in this universe is. At least this way he has a chance of dying with dignity in old age instead of wrapped in a million tubes and pissing in a bag. Don’t you want that for him?”

God she did want that for him. She wanted that for him so badly. But was it really worth it? For just 10 years? Anything could happen in 10 years. Cordell could end up right back here and she’d have nothing left to bargain with.

Or maybe he’d be fine. Maybe he’d get his chance to be a father, watch their kids grow up, make so many more memories with his family.

Maybe they could get lucky.

“I…. I’ll take the deal.”

The demon smirked. “I knew you would, darling. Now, let’s make it official.”

Emily held her breath while he kissed her. She sat in the car staring at nothing for a few long minutes after he disappeared. Then, she rushed home.

It’s not looking good, but the doctors will do everything they can. There’s a chance he could pull through. We have to believe in that.

The next morning, she got an urgent call from the hospital. Cordell’s condition had rapidly improved overnight. “We must’ve read some of the scans wrong,” they reasoned. “He’ll still need some time to heal but he should be ready to come home in a few weeks.”

When Emily told her children the good news, she knew she’d made the right choice. Watching Cordell get better, she knew it was worth her soul.

Even 10 years later, when a hellhound was chasing her to her doom, she couldn’t find it in herself to regret it.

[thebindingofpillo]

Hey pillo what are you characters favourite car & brand

This implies I know anything about cars and car brands, which I unfortunately do not. Sorry :/

I guess all my characters are very pragmatic about cars? I honestly can’t see any of them really caring about what model they drive. Some of my characters (Bethany, Jacob, Lilith) don’t even know how to drive in the first place! I’m just gonna hijack this ask and talk about my characters’ relationship with cars.

Isaac: knows how to drive but doesn’t really care about cars. Just wants a reliable van to go from point A to point B and big enough to contain all his art supplies. Since he doesn’t drink he’s usually the designated driver whenever his friends invite him to a party.

Judas: Knows how to drive and is usually the designated driver. Has a beaten up Toyota or something. Second hand, keeps it well enough that it can work, and it’s not a dumpster, but not much else. His interests lie elsewhere

Magdalene: has a driver’s license but absolutely no interest in cars. I don’t really know if she has a car or not, but if she did she’d turn that thing into a mess in a matter of days. Not because she likes the mess, she jut forgets to throw out the trash and then it accumulates.

Azazel: knows how to drive and HATES it. Thinks all cars are death traps on wheels and if he could he’d just fly everywhere. He will drive if asked to, but will be stressed all the time and don’t ask him to merge into the highway because he’ll have a panic attack. Content with being a passenger princess.

Apollyon: knows how to drive, but doesn’t have a license. He’s absolutely neutral about driving, and since he doesn’t need to eat, sleep or take bathroom breaks he’s the best suited to drive long distances. Likes driving at night.

Cain: has a driver’s license, can also drive trucks and buses but doesn’t really do that anymore. Has a horrible habit of drinking and driving but hasn’t been in a serious accident yet. Has at least one DUI, and at the time of the story his license has probably been revoked but he still drives anyway lol. Owns a trailer.

Samson: can drive and has a license but his mother insists about driving him everywhere. She was even the one who taught him how to drive, which stressed him out *a lot* since she wasn’t the most patient teacher. He’ll eventually get over his fear of driving once he gets a job.

Eve: Has a license but prefers public transport (when available)

Eden: technically knows how to drive (because they’re a cherub, and cherubim are all-knowing) but doesn’t really need to, so they never bothered to try.

Lazarus: has a license but is also very prone to accidents and has already totalled two cars. Luckily he has insurance. He also knows how to start a car using only the cables, but never had the chance to show it off.

Jacob: doesn’t drive. Suffers from chronic pain in his hip and while he could technically learn how to drive, he’s afraid of his pain flaring up while he’s behind the wheel, so he’s super cautious about it. Esau usually drives him everywhere he needs so he doesn’t really need a car.

Bethany: doesn’t know how to drive, and doesn’t really have time to study to get a license. She’s usually swamped with university work and doesn’t want to add more stress to her situation.

Lilith: blind :( no car. Cain used to drive her where she needed but stopped once she found out he got a DUI. Now she uses public transport or Uber.

Esau: actually now that I think about it, Esau would know a pretty good deal about cars! He’s a mechanic and probably the only one who would know how to properly care for one. I’d like to imagine he has an old second-hand car he purchased with his money when he was 18, and he keeps in pristine condition. He’s currently saving to get his own place away from Jacob, but he wouldn’t mind splurging on a decent car once he got enough money. Since I don’t know much about cars, I’m just gonna say he wants a Toyota CHR because that’s what my partner likes.

[themultifandomgal]

Antonio- Meeting Him

I arrive at Mollys to meet my brothers Jay and Will, same dad different moms. I haven't long moved to Chicago to be with my brothers after my mom passed away recently.

Seeing my brothers sat a table, I approach now noticing a few other people

"Here she is. Severide, Dawson this is YN" Will says standing up and giving me a hug

"Hey" I greet him and Jay who also give me a hug. I look at the other two guys "hi it's nice to meet you"

"Like wise, Jay and Will have told us a lot about you. Kelly Severide" Kelly stands up and shakes my hand

"Antonio Dawson" Antonio also shakes my hand. I sit in between my brothers. Jay nudges a glass of coke towards me

"Thanks"

"Jay told us your a teacher. What year?" Antonio asks

"Kindergarten so age 5"

"30 5 year olds in one room, no thank you" Kelly shudders at the thought

"They're not that bad. It's the parents you have to watch" I chuckle "so do either of you have kids?"

"No" Kelly shakes his head

"I've got two. Boy and girl. Have you?"

"No. Never found the right guy I guess"

"I'll drink to that one" Jay mutters lifting up his drink to take a sip

"Hey my relationships haven't been that bad" I nudge Jay

"Errr yeah they have. There was Jake-the deadbeat, then Alfie- the drug dealer..."

"Woah ok I didn't know and as soon as I found out I broke it off. Anyway we weren't that serious" I shrug

"Don't forgot Dan. God he was the worst" Will says "you know, she rang me in anger because Dan stole her money. Had to ring Jay"

"Ahh so you were the stolen purse case Jay left us a week for"

"Guilty" I give Antonio a smile "fine ok my relationships have sucked, that's why I'm having a new start here and not dating for a long ass time"

"Yeah yeah, your like your brother there" Will nods towards Jay "you see a hot guy and you can't keep away. Like a moth to a flame"

"She just needs the right guy to tame her" Kelly says

"Don't even think about it" Jay points at his friend. I roll my eyes at my brother being over protective.

The hours tick by and before I know it, it's now Saturday morning and I have had far too much to drink

"I'm gonna have to call a taxi. Will Christopher be ok with me leaving my car here?" I ask standing up on wobbling legs

"He'll be fine about it. Would rather you get home safely" Kelly shrugs

"Well thank you for the drinks, but I'm super tired"

"Don't worry about it"

"Let me give you a lift home. I've not drank" Antonio offers

"No it's ok, don't worry..."

"I insist. I know your brothers would feel happier knowing that you got home safely by an officer than worry about you in a taxi on your own"

"Ok. Thank you" I give into Antonio.

Slipping into Antonio's car I rest my head on the window, tiredness starting to win the battle to try and stay awake

"Your seats are comfy" I mutter. I hear Antonio chuckle next to me "will your wife mind that your dropping me off?"

"No wife. Divorced"

"Oh. I'm sorry I didn't mean..."

"It's ok, well now it is. For a while I wasn't allowed to see my kids. Things have gotten better"

"I'm glad things are better. I've worked with some parents who don't get along and it puts a strain of the kids. Sometimes it just takes time for divorced parents to figure out how to work" I realise I've probably been talking out of place so I apologise to which Antonio tells me not to be silly. We arrive outside my tiny house, I turn to look at Antonio and smile "thank you for the lift"

"Don't worry about it. I'll get someone to drop your car off for you tomorrow"

"Jays on my insurance, ask him"

"Ok. Goodnight YN"

"Goodnight Antonio" I exit the car and walk to my front door, noticing that Antonio hasn't left yet. Once I find my house keys and open the door I turn around to give him a wave. I lock the door behind me and that's only when Antonio leaves I assume making sure I'm safe.

[studywgabi]

Dr. Cinnamon Roll, M. D., Ph.D., NCSP, LMHC

Well, I've seen it all: one-sided crushes, flings, situationships, horror stories, heartbreak, love, love triangles, and all the messy, hard-to-define ways of knowing someone in between. Rude to the waiter, rude to my friends, rude to my parents, rude to themselves, rude to me. Peter Pan, Madonna-whore, Oedipus, God, hero, inferiority, superiority, Napoleon, and savior complexes. The liars, the cheaters, the fuckboys, the gaslighters, the jerks, the assholes, the players, the closeted gay guys, the short kings, the golden retrievers, the bad boys, the mistakes, the phases, the ones who were jealous, insecure, clingy, possessive, and/or unavailable, the ones that got away, and the soulmates. Oh, and, just in case it wasn't clear, I was referring to ex-therapists, not boyfriends.

I guess I'm a little bit of a therapy hussy; I've burned through five therapists in as many years. Here's a tour of them, along with some honorable mentions:

Dr. #1: Took my therapy flower.

I wasn't too jazzed about seeing her at first. My parents were forcing me to go after my friends' parents had eavesdropped on a conversation between my friend and me and narced.

As cliché as it is, we just...drifted apart (deep sigh). We broke up after a year when I came back from spending 2 months away from home because her private practice wasn't covered by my insurance. It had been okay for a while but wasn't sustainable. I learned a lot from her, but I didn't really want to be in therapy at that age and I didn't feel like I could be honest with her about the way I really felt about myself without her feeling obligated to tell my parents what I said, which I really didn't want to have happen to me again.

She diagnosed me with dysthymia, generalized and social anxiety, O.C.D., and suspected I might have PCOS (she was right). You never forget your first.

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Dr. Chucklefuck: The school counselor for last names H-K, another unintended, unanticipated, unwelcome, and shit-on-a-cracker result of that 1 conversation with my friend. This fuck carrot, who had a doctorate, certification, and 15 years' experience in school psychology told me, "suicide is a permanent solution to a temporary problem," inspiring much emo poetry. If any cock lemurs who don't know anything about the permanence of your situation have said anything like this entirely untrue and insensitive statement to you, I am so, so sorry. Please don't believe them. You deserved so much better.

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Dr. Pushy: Insisted I have my camera on during our zoom meetings, after I repeatedly told her I was more comfortable with it off and felt it would be easier to talk honestly. She diagnosed with me body dysmorphic disorder. Plenty of fish in the sea.

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Dr. Heartbreak: Shattered me. She was my first love, my high school sweetheart, my prom date, my ride-or-die, my steady gal. We were together for all 4 years.

I was having a rough go of it: failing classes, missing so many days of school I might not have graduated, and barely able to leave my house. I was seeing her twice a week, but things just kept getting worse and worse for me. There was no structure to our meetings, no plan for treatment and no goals. I would bring up an issue and she would just tell me the first advice that popped into her head. I would tell her that I couldn't see the point of getting out of bed, and she would recommend putting on some good music first thing in the morning. She was kind and she wanted the best for me, but she couldn't tell me anything I couldn't have googled myself. I had wanted to see a different therapist for a while, but my parents didn't want me to have to start over and build up a relationship with someone new.

I knew something else was going on, something beyond my previous diagnoses of depression and anxiety. I had been meeting with a professional twice a week for 4 years, but it was watching tiktoks, 30-second videos filmed by random children on shaky, blurry iPhone cameras that made me suspect I had autism. I felt more understood in those videos, where such niche, specific experiences from life were described by a stranger so impossibly similarly I thought they must be talking about me and not themselves. Dr. Heartbreak gave me a months-long evaluation, during which time she forgot to bring the papers she needed to the office with her, forgot to send me the results for several weeks, made multiple errors on the final report, and I failed 2 more classes. I was then that I found out I had not only autism but ADHD and an eating disorder, too late.

After the evaluation, I started looking on my own for other therapists, and talking to my pediatrician about ADHD medication. Dr. Heartbreak told me next time she had a new patient, she would immediately start them with a comprehensive evaluation. "What about me?" I thought.

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Dr. Rebound: A one-night stand and my first experience getting back out there after the big heartbreak. Rodney Dangerfield must have been her fashion icon, because she wore a very loosely-tied bathrobe to our one and only zoom meeting, which was unfortuitously scheduled at the same time as her three cats' yodeling jam session. {From what I gathered, there's a feline Yoko Ono, and more drama then Fleetwood Mac had during Rumors. I give the band maybe another six months (in cat time) before the lead yodeler tragically O.D.'s at 27 like all the great artists before him.} You know what they say, the best way to get over someone is to get under the copay plan of someone else.

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Dr. Cinnamon Roll: Love and savior of my life. The suicide hotline set us up on a blind date. After 5 long years of searching, of "I'm not really looking for anything serious right now" or "I still hang out with my ex-girlfriend, that's cool, right?" or "I'm allergic to latex," just as I was ready to give up, all of a sudden, the smoke cleared, the crowd parted, and I saw her. Love at first sight! A bolt straight to the prefrontal cortex! And we lived happily ever after.

Everything she tells me is something I need to hear 10 years ago. She has this incredible way of verbalizing what I've been trying to tell her but just don't have the words for, of summing up my whole life in one sentence. I struggled to connect with every therapist I had before her because they were all so far removed from anything I had experienced as middle-aged, married with 2.5 children, white women. She's only 26, just 8 years older than me, and biracial like I am. You really do a feel a difference with the right therapist. You realize just how wrong the wrong ones were.

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Dr. Cup of Chamomile Tea: Basically the Dr. Garth Fisher of pediatrics. She's the most sought-after, highly-reviewed pediatrician in the state, but remembers the smallest details about every single one of her many patients. She has a lovely, soothing lullaby for a voice and makes Mother Teresa look like a total bitch. She diagnosed me with PCOS.

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Dr. Feelbad: A medication-management referral from Dr. Chamomile. Prescribed me unwellbutrin, then prozac efron, then lexacon, then zoloft (sorry, I don't have a pun for that one, ooh, wait, crossing the sertraline!). She's a trooper, putting up with my bad puns and my treatment-resistant depression.

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Dr. Meanie-Face (Dermatologist): What can I say about this doctor that is complimentary? Oh, the bathroom right outside her office is a good place to cry. She's got that going for her.

She spent my first appointment talking about how she was bullied in middle school because her parents could only afford to buy her 1 pair of bright-yellow, too-small pants. This story was related to my skin, but I don't remember how.

She prescribed a miracle: spironolactone. She said this medication would make me lose a significant amount of weight, take me up a cup size, permanently cure my acne and my hirsutism to the point where I wouldn't need to shave at all, and make the hair on my head grow noticeably thicker, faster and longer. After all, she took spironolactone herself and that's what happened for her! I couldn't believe this pill was even legal and that she was just giving it to me, just like that! Imagine, in a couple months' time, I would be free.

When I came back for my follow-up with none of those results, she completely changed her tune and said spironolactone might have a small effect on all or some or none of those features. When I told her I was still losing quite a bit of hair, she said I wasn't, and joked that even if I was, my dad (who is bald) and I could just go on Rogaine together. When I told her spironolactone hadn't helped my hirsutism at all and that I still had to spend four hours getting ready every morning, she said it absolutely should not take me that long, because she remove all her hair in 3 minutes. She sympathized, saying she "knows how hairy you guys are," ("you guys" referring to Latinx people) because she had so many Latina friends growing up.

When I came back for my third follow-up visit (I know) and told her I had only used the cream she prescribed once because it made my skin peel, she said that was a very common side effect, but explained how the peeling was actually a good thing, because every time my skin cracked and broke off of my face like an extremely painful cheese danish, my acne scars would come off with it. Said peeling would also reveal beautiful, youthful, Freddy Kreugeresque skin and prevent wrinkles. I was 14.

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Dr.s Chatty Cathy and Son (Dentists): I imagine the final (50% of your grade) in the toughest, most brutal weed-out class that causes at least half the students each semester to run out of the room in tears in dental school is a presentation on saying the most asinine things while you're wrist-deep in someone's mouth like, "you're going to {Name of College} next year, huh? That's where we send all the hippies," or "so, guess how old I am." (I didn't guess, but he told me anyway and said he thinks he still looks pretty good for 64, then sung The Beatles song to me and recited a story about Paul McCartney's childhood taken directly from his Wikipedia page.)

That's the elder Dr. Chatty Cathy. I always hope I get Dr. Son, he leaves me alone for the most part and just gossips with the tooth nurse (dental hygienist) about her brother's two-timing girlfriend and time in prison. Maybe they're under the impression the sunglasses they give me double as ear plugs, or maybe they just don't care what someone with a cavity thinks of them (fair).