#because he saw me take my own wheelchair out of my car. a wheelchair that is marketed as an ultra light one that users can pick up alone

[elvenmoans]

People act like people faking disabilities are such a common issue and require violence and threat of violence to fix.

But I am an ambulatory wheelchair user like 70% of wheelchair users. I have never met one of us who didn't fake not being able to move their legs to avoid actual literal violence

I once had my leg twitch on the train which happens in most spinal cord injuries even complete ones. And this guy screamed at me for several minutes threatening to kill me, and he only didn't beat me up because the entire fucking train cart had to stop him

Disability faking is such a strong paranoia on our society that ironically they create it by making disabled people fake more "acceptable" disabilities when alone in public for their physical safety

[whumpbug]

Hello Bug!! So I wrote a little fanfic about your boys Simon and Archie. I'm the one who sent you the prompt about Archie having a minor injury and showing up at Simon's apartment and ending up taking care of him, but I thought what you wrote was too perfect to add onto so I did something kind of different. I wrote something taking place during the two days Archie was in the hospital after his #1 Worst Injury. I also took the creative liberty of making it December 24th because why not

I don't know if either of your guys are actually Christian or celebrate Christmas but I still wanted to write a Christmas special because. wholesomeness

okay okay here it is I REALLY HOPE YOU LIKE IT

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

It was almost midnight. The only sounds were Archie’s labored rasps of breath and the heart monitor beeping steadily. The lights were dim, and the window had frosted over from the snow. Simon held his warm hand in both of his.

He reminded himself that he wasn’t to blame. He had to keep doing that, whenever his thoughts turned against him. He couldn’t have known what would happen, and there was no way he could’ve gotten there faster while still driving safely.

Still. It hurt. The image of Archie’s chest drenched in blood was something he’d never forget. He couldn’t have saved him on his own, so he had to take him here. Break his promise. And he hated that.

It couldn’t have been a worse time, either. He wanted to spend Christmas with Archie, but not like this.

Three soft knocks at the door. Probably a nurse, sent to check in on things. Simon forced himself to take a deep breath to keep his voice steady and called, “come in.”

His eyes widened when he saw a nurse, yes — but also four patients. All children. A dark-skinned teenage girl in a wheelchair held a large red box in her lap, wrapped with a green bow. A little redheaded kid — no more than five — had a handful of lollipops in the palm that wasn’t set in a sling. A boy on crutches with a dimpled smile and long braids was holding a book. A small girl with hazel eyes hugging a teddy bear was wearing a mask, probably due to a contagious respiratory illness. The nurse carried a pan of cookies.

For a beat, none of them said a word. Then the teen girl pushed herself forward and cleared her throat. “Hi. Is… is that really Vigil?”

Simon was stunned. He nodded.

“He saved me a-about a year ago. My name’s Natalie, but, um… back then, I was still going by Nathan. Did, did he mention me?” She asked quietly, curling a strand of her hair on her finger.

It took a minute, but Simon did recall — last summer. “He mentioned a Nathan,” he said. “Car crash. Right?”

She looked timidly off to the side. “Uh, yeah. We talked a little after. And he made sure all of us got home safe, so… so I thought it’d be nice to…” She trailed off, shaking her head. “I mean, it wasn’t just my idea. Everyone helped.”

The nurse smiled down at the girl — Natalie — then looked back up to Simon. “We wanted to bring Christmas to Vigil. I hope you don’t mind the intrusion.”

Before Simon could respond, the redhead with the lollipops piped up, “these are for both of you!”

She ran to Simon with little thumping footsteps and offered them to him. “When he wakes up, I want you to tell him they’re from Emily and that he’ll be all better real soon!”

Simon didn’t smile, but his eyes shone. He reluctantly moved one of his hands away from Archie’s to take the lollipops and place them down on the nightstand. “Thank you, Emily,” he said.

“I’m not Emily, silly! That’s my grandma. He saved her one time from bad guys. She says to give him her ‘best wishes.’ My name’s Quinn.”

“Thank both of you, then,” Simon corrected. Eyeing her arm in a cast, he added, “you’ll be better soon too, Quinn.”

That got her to smile. The boy was next in line, limping up next to Quinn. He held out a quivering hand holding a worn cover of a novel. Simon took it and peered at the title. The Journey to Planet 56, by Emilia Robinson. Science fiction, space adventure. Alright, now Simon was smiling — this kid really had Archie pegged.

“Do you think he’ll like it?” The kid prodded, eyes wide and hopeful.

“Trust me, he’ll love it.”

“Say it’s from Cuauhtemoc,” he instructed. “Um, that’s me. Temo for short. That’s my very very favorite book. And I want him to have it, because he got my brother out of an icy lake. Tell him get well soon.”

“I will,” assured Simon. He set down the book next to the lollipops.

The little girl with the mask on was next. She held out the teddy, which Simon noticed was a somewhat realistic model of a fuzzy black bear. Simon took it gently. “Thanks,” he told her quietly, moving to place it gently on top of Archie, but she frantically shook her head and started signing something. He paused, puzzled. “What…”

“That’s American Sign Language,” the nurse explained. “I can’t see what she’s saying from behind, but earlier she told me she wanted the teddy bear to be for you. Her name’s Esperanza.”

Simon blinked. Slowly, he pulled the teddy bear back and looked at it. It felt soft and warm in his hands. “For me?”

The nurse handed the cookie tray to Natalie for a minute to tap the kid with the mask on the shoulder. He signed something to her — probably translating what Simon said — and she nodded to him.

She signed something else, and the nurse interpreted, “you deserve something nice too. For saving our Vigil, you are a real hero.”

Simon was speechless. A hero. Since he’d failed to save Archie on his own, that was the last thing he dared think of himself as. The thought made his eyes sting and blur with the threat of tears. He took a deep breath to keep himself from crying, because he refused to — at least until all the kids were done visiting. He looked up at the nurse. “You know ASL?”

“My mother is Deaf, so it’s actually my first language,” he affirmed. “You want to say something?”

“Tell her… thank you.”

“Tell her yourself. It’s like this,” he said, pressing his fingers to his chin and then holding it outwards with a flat palm. Simon looked back to Esperanza and mimicked the motion as best as he could. Her mouth was concealed by the mask, but joy bloomed in her eyes. It reminded Simon a little of Archie — the way his smile lit up his whole face.

Natalie handed the cookie tray back to the nurse and wheeled closer to Simon. The other kids moved out of the way. She picked up the box in her lap and showed it off to Simon. “Do you… want to do the honors?” She asked quietly.

Simon considered it, but eventually shook his head. “Vigil should. It’s his gift, after all.”

“Okay,” she said. “I hope he likes it. We all pitched in to get it for him…”

“I’m sure he will,” Simon assured. He took the box from her and set it down gently on the floor. It was surprisingly heavy. He wondered what it was.

“And last but not least,” the nurse said, holding up the cookies. “These are for everyone!”

A chorus of cheers broke out among the children.

It was past midnight by this point, certainly. Christmas. And now, it kind of felt like it.

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

So uhh what do you think? I usually write in present-tense but past-tense seemed right for this story

Also you get complete creative freedom about the ending. Do you think Archie woke up for cookies or did he get some a few hours after everyone left? If he woke up while everyone was still there, what did he say to them? What did they say to him?

And if he woke up after everyone except Simon was already gone (probably to their rooms because it is way past all of those kids' bedtimes), what did Simon tell Archie about the visit he missed and all the gifts he got?

Thank you so much for the go-ahead on fanfics Bug!! This was so much fun

also yes I made up the title and author of the book. I would've used a real one but sadly I am not in possession of any sci-fi adventure books

anon. anon i need you to listen to me. [grabs u by the shoulders]

when i say i cried real tears while reading this, i am not exaggerating at ALL.

THIS IS THE SWEETEST, WARMEST MOST WHOLESOME FIC I HAVE EVER READ AND I GENUINELY TEARED UP. im sorry it took me so long to reply i reread it like 10 times already. i LOVE it. SO. MUCH. everything, EVERYTHING about this fic was perfect but i'm going to talk about some of the highlights under the cut and then answer what i think the ending would be

HERE WE GO!

✮⋆˙

okay right away i just want to say anon??? your writing style is SO so so good???? like i was captivated the ENTIRE time

simon blaming himself is so painfully in character. like no simon you are not a bad person because you couldn't literally teleport to archie's location take a deep breath

ALSO THIS BEING A CHRISTMAS FIC MADE MY HEART SO SO SO HAPPY UGH

the thought you put into all the other patients??? the care?? god i don't know how you managed but i'm now attached to all of these kids they're so precious

NATALIE IS SO SWEET and i love the headcanon (well now its canon) of archie telling simon about all of the people he saves and simon remembering them

quinn is SO silly. also is this a reference to the little old lady he had saved in the hypothermia fic??

same with temo is his brother the kid that i made nearly drown in that fic? (sorry temo's brother)

EITHER WAY I LOVE IT AND ALSO TEMO GETTING ARCHIE A SCI-FI BOOK???? MY HEART. MY HEART IS EXPLODING. ANON YOUR ATTENTION TO DETAIL

GOD and little esperanza remembering simon. i want you to know that after those kids left simon sobbed. the wholesomeness was too much for him.

also anon i am so curious. WHAT is the box. this is my personal pandora's box im so so curious

GOD i just love everything about this. you made every single character in this so so so loveable and real and human and it just made me so so so happy. i hope you know my day, year, LIFE, has been MADE. thank you so so SO much

what do i think happens next?

okay anon i honestly think i might even write a little drabble for what happens next because i'm OBSESSED with this scenario, but i'm not going to put it here so the post doesn't get too long. but keep an eye out for that because this scenario is SO perfect.

essentially, i don't think archie would wake up while the kids were there. i think he'd probably stay mostly asleep, what with how drugged up he is.. BUT when he wakes up the next morning and simon tells him about what happened and where all these gifts came from, i think archie would start bawling.

like i think archie would be so touched and happy that it would just come out in a burst of tears and simon would probably join him because 1) he is equally as touched and 2) that man is sleep-deprived and emotional because of it.

the two would have a little tiny christmas morning celebration, they'd watch TV together, archie would read his book, but i think simon would probably fall asleep on accident later in the evening.

which gives archie the perfect oppurtunity to sneak out of his bed and go around thanking each of the kids. (simon would have stopped him if he was awake because. yknow. archie is still recovering from a bullet wound. but. archie is just sneaky like that.)

WELL ANYWAYS, thats what would happen in my mind. archie would find some way to thank them. he'd be too grateful not to.

✮⋆˙

okay real talk. anon thank you so so so much. since i was little, i dreamed of the day people would actually Care about little ocs and characters i made and it means SO much to me that you and other people like them. thank you SO SO SO much for writing this and as always, if you ever write more for them, know that i will be EQUALLY as thrilled. this is definitely a highlight of my YEAR. thank you thank you thank you!!!

[lady-wallace]

Whumptober Day 25: Surgery

In a shocking twist, I chose fluff for today's @whumptober prompt. This is another of my BucciaratixOC fics, from the actual Hearts of Gold series this time :)

Prompt: Surgery, stitches, being monitored, 'it's for your own good' Fandom: JoJo's Bizarre Adventure Part 5 (Hearts of Gold verse) Character: Bucciarati

~~~~~~~

Read on Ao3

~~~~~~~

Bed Rest

(Hearts of Gold Verse) After Bruno has to undergo an unexpected surgery, Maria is determined to keep him resting if she has to physically tie him to the bed herself.

~~~~~~~

“Here are some care instructions for his stitches and medicine dosages. If you have any concerns feel free to call.”

“Thank you,” Maria said as she accepted the small bag of papers and pills from the nurse before heading toward the room Bruno was staying in.

Her husband looked very wan and wrung out lying in the bed. He still smiled when he saw Maria though.

“Ready to go home?” she asked him as she smiled back.

“Very,” Bruno replied tiredly, already attempting to sit up before his face creased and he brought a hand to his stomach.

“Stop that,” Maria said firmly as she hurried over and pressed him back gently. “Leone’s coming with a wheelchair in just a minute.”

“I can walk perfectly fine once I get up,” Bruno tried to insist, but Maria shot him a look.

“If you fall they’re going to keep you in here another night.”

He huffed a sigh but settled back.

It had all started with a persistent stomach bug and fever that Bruno had chosen to ignore and claimed he ‘was fine’ to go out on a mission. Maria could still hear Fugo’s terrified voice over the phone when he had called to tell them that Bruno had collapsed on the mission with severe stomach pain. With Giorno currently in Milan with Mista and Narancia it had been an obvious trip to the hospital.

Maria got there just in time to see Leone and Fugo arguing with Bruno.

“You cannot use Sticky Fingers to take your own fucking appendix out!” Leone snapped.

“Then I’ll wait for Giorno,” came the strained reply.

“You can’t wait that long, they said it’s a miracle your appendix hasn’t already burst!” Fugo added.

Maria was going to put a stop to that line of thinking right now. Fugo and Leone both looked up in relief as she came in and strode over to the bed.

“Bruno, you’re having the surgery,” she said firmly.

Bruno shut up and turned pale and quiet. Maria didn’t miss the uneasiness on his face that had nothing to do with the pain he was currently in. She leaned over the bed and took his face between her hands.

“My love, it will be alright.”

“I can’t believe this happened,” he muttered.

“It can happen to anyone,” Fugo said. “Just be glad it’s not more serious.”

Bruno looked away and Maria stroked his jaw, feeling the tenseness from the pain in how tight he was clenching it. “I promise I’ll be there when you wake up.”

Bruno relaxed slightly and tilted his head up searchingly. Maria kissed him deeply before straightening up. “You’ll be all right, Bruno.”

She had been there when he woke up as promised, and stayed at the hospital with him while they kept him for observation for a couple days after the surgery. She knew how much Bruno hated hospitals and because of that, was well aware that he hadn’t gotten much proper rest there, so she was just as eager to bring him home as he was to get there.

She just hoped that she would be able to convince him to stay in bed once they returned to the mansion.

Leone came into the room, pushing a wheelchair in front of him. “Hey, you ready to go?” he asked.

Bruno nodded tiredly and thankfully allowed Maria and Leone to help him up and into the wheelchair. Even that movement seemed to exhaust him and he settled back as they made their way out of the hospital to the car Leone had pulled around.

They helped him into the passenger seat and Bruno leaned his head back, closing his eyes.

“You’ll have to catch me up on business once we get back,” he murmured as Leone started the car. “I know I’ve missed a lot.”

“Not gonna happen,” Leone said firmly. “Your job for the next few days is resting. Fugo and I have things covered, and Risotto and his team are helping out with some of the local stuff.”

“You can at least keep me up to date—”

“No, because as soon as we start telling you anything you’ll want to take over for yourself.” Leone gave him a look. “Think of this as an opportunity to relax, Bruno. You get so few of those.”

“Exactly,” Maria added.

“I can’t really relax when I’m doped on pain meds and risk ripping my stitches out every time I move,” Bruno muttered.

“We can catch up on movies we’ve wanted to watch,” Maria offered. “Are you really that upset with the thought of spending a few days cooped up with your wife?” she teased.

Bruno smiled wryly. “That’s the only nice part about this.”

They got back to the mansion and Maria and Leone helped Bruno out of the car.

“Careful,” Leone cautioned. “We can go as slow as you need.”

Bruno grunted in annoyance, moving actually quite slowly. It was a long trek into the house and upstairs to their room and Maria felt bad for how exhausted Bruno looked when he finally got there and settled on the bed, a hand pressed to his stomach as sweat beaded on his brow.

“Try to sleep for now,” Maria coaxed, moving the blankets and pulling them over him. “I’ll wake you when it’s time for your next dose of medicine.”

Bruno nodded tiredly, eyes already shut as he seemed to drift off in exhaustion.

Maria kissed his brow softly before she pulled Leone from the room and headed downstairs to where Fugo and Trish were waiting.

“Not one peep about business to Bruno until he’s recovered, okay?” she said firmly.

Fugo and Trish both nodded.

“Agreed,” the blond replied. “Abbacchio and I will handle everything until Giorno gets back.”

“And I can help keep an eye on him if you need to run out, Maria,” Trish promised.

“Thank you,” Maria said gratefully. “We will see him to full recovery together.”

But it was easier said than done, because Bruno was, if nothing else, incredibly stubborn. And he was also not good at bed rest.

Maria was slightly surprised to find that he slept most of the afternoon. She woke him in the evening to eat a little and take his medicine but he fell asleep quickly afterward to her relief.

Maria joined him soon enough. She hadn’t gotten much sleep the last few days either while watching over him in the hospital. She curled up next to her husband and fell into an actually restful sleep, knowing they were both back home.

It lasted until early morning when she was woken by Bruno’s soft sounds of discomfort as he shifted in bed.

“Are you alright?” she asked sleepily, reaching out for his arm.

“I’m just uncomfortable,” he replied tiredly.

Maria pushed herself onto an elbow to look at the clock, seeing it was several hours past his next dose of pain medicine.

“Your pills should help. Let me go get you a glass of water.”

She got up and headed to the bathroom returning with a glass and helping to prop Bruno up against the pillows before handing him the water. She took out his pills and pressed them into his other hand so he could take them dutifully.

“This will probably be the last dose of these I’ll take,” he told her. “They make me too tired.”

“That’s the point,” Maria said. “You’re supposed to be resting.”

“I can’t rest forever. Besides, regular pain killers will do perfectly fine for me. I’ve had worse.”

Maria stared at him balefully, but Bruno ignored her, leaning back against the pillows. She sighed and tucked him back in. “Anything particular you want for breakfast?”

“I’m not hungry enough to have a preference. Nothing too heavy,” he said.

Maria nodded and pulled on her robe as she made her way down to the kitchen.

Leone had already made a pot of coffee, and she gratefully poured a cup as she assembled a breakfast for Bruno. By the time she got back up to the room, she found Bruno on his phone, brow furrowed.

“When you see Fugo, could you please tell him to come up and see me?” he said. “He’s not answering my texts.”

“He won’t talk to you about business,” Maria said firmly as she set the tray on the side table.

Bruno looked up at her indignantly. “Maria—”

“Bruno, no,” she cut in, moving her hands to her hips. “You are on bedrest only for the next few days. No work, not even from bed.”

“That’s unrealistic. Fugo would agree.”

“Would he?” Maria raised an eyebrow. “Feel free to ask him yourself then. I’m sure he’ll be up later to check in on you.”

Bruno sighed and started eating.

“When you’re done, I’ll change your bandages. Would you like me to help you bathe first?”

Bruno closed his eyes with a grateful nod. “That would be nice. I despise the smell of hospital.”

Maria agreed and went to set up the bathroom while he finished eating. They’d preemptively put a chair in the shower to make it easier for Bruno, and though he couldn’t get his stitches wet, Maria could position the chair so she could wash Bruno’s hair more easily.

When he’d finished eating, Maria reappeared with a smile. “Time for your sponge bath, Signore Bucciarati.”

She helped him slowly into the bathroom and got him undressed before sitting him in the chair. Bruno closed his eyes and seemed to relax as she washed him gently with a warm soapy cloth, careful around the tender area on his lower belly. When she had finished, she leaned him back slightly and washed his hair. Bruno gave a pleased groan as she massaged his scalp with her fingers.

“That feels very nice,” he murmured.

Maria bent to kiss his damp forehead. “You should be pampered during your recovery. That’s the best part, you know.”

Bruno smiled slightly. “You do spoil me, amore.”

Maria gave a coy smile as she rinsed the rest of the soap out of his hair and turned the water off. “Let’s get you dried off.”

She patted him dry gently and blow-dried his hair so he wouldn’t have to sleep on it wet. When she was done, she carefully cleaned his incision before taping fresh gauze over the stitches.

After helping Bruno into a clean pair of pajamas, she put him back in bed.

Bruno grumbled, seeming exhausted after just that.

Maria made sure he was comfortable before she went to see to a few things around the house, checking in on Fugo and Leone in the office.

“How is Bucciarati this morning?” Fugo asked her.

“He’s still tired. Which is good honestly,” she replied wryly.

“Yes, I’ve been dodging his texts since he got up,” Fugo snorted. “He’s going to be even more of a menace once he stops taking the good pain pills.”

“If he had his way that would be sooner rather than later,” Maria said. “But he’s not getting his way this time.”

Fugo smiled. “You don’t know how happy it makes me that he finally has someone around who will make him see reason.”

“I am trying my best.”

Maria really was trying her best. That day went by okay. Bruno mostly slept and they watched a couple movies in between but she could tell he was getting restless already, trying to ask prying questions when Fugo and Leone came to check in on him.

It didn’t get really bad until the next day though when Maria left for a little while to see to some chores and came back to see her husband sitting at his desk with his laptop.

“What are you doing out of bed?” she demanded.

“Maria, I can’t stay in bed forever. I’m just checking emails.”

She strode over and closed the laptop, facing him firmly. “No business until you’re recovered!” she snapped.

He furrowed his brow. “It’s not going to help anyone if they have to catch me up on everything I missed. I’m simply trying to stay informed.”

Maria continued to glower at him until he rolled his eyes tiredly and made to stand up.

“Very well.”

He winced as he pushed his chair back and Maria quickly ducked in to help him to his feet, keeping hold of him as he shuffled back over to the bed. “See, you can still barely get around. Please stay in bed unless you have to use the bathroom.”

Bruno huffed, slumping back against his pillows. “This wouldn’t have happened if you had let me use Sticky Fingers.”

“You would feel better if you were held together with zippers instead of stitches right now?” She raised a brow suspiciously.

He remained silent, knowing his argument was invalid.

Maria leaned in and kissed him. “It won’t be much longer, I promise. Just remember that you will be going back to the hospital if you rip any of your stitches out.”

“Reading emails will not rip my stitches,” Bruno grumbled.

Maria placed another kiss on his furrowed brow and it instantly smoothed out. “Later, my love.”

She snatched the laptop on her way out, blowing him a kiss as Bruno made a disgruntled sound.

She thought she had assuaged him for a while but when she came back to check on him after running errands, she caught him making his way slowly down the hall, one hand pressed to the wall to steady himself.

“What are you doing out here?” she demanded, hurrying over to him.

“Caught me again, did you?” he grumbled.

“Bruno,” Maria sighed. “Why do you insist on being so stubborn?”

“Because I don’t have time to be laid up. There’s business to attend.”

“Which Leone and Panna are handling. You know if anything catastrophic happens they’ll let you know, but other than that, why are you so against taking this opportunity to relax a little?”

Bruno looked away. He shifted and winced. “At least let me rest downstairs for a while, I feel so cooped up.”

He tried to leave the wall and head toward the stairs. He wobbled and shifted quickly to correct his balance, letting out a sharp gasp, hand pressed to his side.

Maria ducked in quickly to grab his arm. “The stairs are way too much for you right now,” she said firmly, letting him lean on her as she steered him back to their room. “Just a few more days, Bruno, please.”

He grunted but had little choice other than to go where she led him.

“Is there anything I can do to make you more comfortable?”

“I want out of this room.”

“We already determined that wasn’t a good idea.”

“I could have made it.”

“So you wouldn’t have tripped on the stairs and ripped all your stitches out?”

“I don’t think I’m that infirm.”

He frowned up at her in indignation. Maria climbed up to kneel on the bed facing him, taking his face between her hands. “You’re not going to stay put if I leave you again, are you?”

“I make no promises.”

“I see,” she replied matter-of-factly. “Perhaps I should tie you to the bed then?”

“That’s unnecessary.”

“Is it?” She gently slid her hands down his arms and caught his wrists, pressing them back against the pillows teasingly as she hovered over him. “I think you’ve already proven drastic measures need to be taken.”

He opened his mouth to retort, but Maria leaned in and kissed him. Bruno’s lips quickly melted to hers, allowing her to deepen the kiss.

He was a little breathless when she finally pulled away.

“You think you can distract me like this?” Bruno asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Is it working?”

He sighed, shifting slightly with a small wince. “This is…abysmal. It hurts every time I move, and the stitches itch.” His fingers twitched as if wanting to scratch.

Maria hummed in sympathy before leaning in again. “Then let me make it a little less abysmal?”

She kissed him again, working her way down his neck, before she released his wrists and shifted down toward his waist. She gently pushed his shirt up and Bruno let out a soft sound as she pressed her lips to the spot above his bandages.

“Is this helping at all?” she asked, peppering soft kisses against his tanned abs.

“Mmm, a little. I think I’m going to need more of this particular treatment though.”

Maria beamed as she saw a genuine smile on his face again and sat back up to kiss his lips. “Well, Signore Bucciarati, I have the perfect prescription for you then.”

[wheelin-after-midnight]

35.

What is in the back seat of your car right now?

I can't drive. I don't have a car.

What was the last thing you threw up?

Bile, and whatever liquid and pain medicine was in my stomach last time I had a migraine.

Menthol or regular cigarettes?

I don't smoke. I did occasionally in the past. Nothing heavy. Not enough to have preference on types of cigarettes.

What is your favorite episode of Friends?

I'm not a regular watcher of Friends. Still haven't seen it from start to finish. Babe has tried to get me to actually get into it because she likes it. I've seen episodes here and there, but this made me think of a period a few years ago where my mum and I weren't really talking much at all. My brother and sister in law used to pick me up and take me with them to do groceries, and their van was too high for me to transfer into on my own, so I needed help. When I was getting back out this one night when we got back to my place, I slid down while holding onto my brother a little, but it was dark outside so I couldn't see exactly where he'd put my wheelchair down. I was kinda trying to reach my arm out to touch it, and all the sudden he's just like, "PIVOT, PIVOT!" It gave me a bit of a jump scare because I wasn't expecting it and I'm just looking at him like, "what the hell?!" He was like, "really? You've never seen that episode of Friends where they're moving the couch?!" I probably had the dumbest fucking look on my face, but I was just like... Whut? 🤣🤣 Naturally I looked it up afterwards and it made that whole incident even funnier. Still makes me laugh on occasion when I remember, lmao.

Does anyone have any blackmail on you?

I mean, babe has very explicit photo and video footage of me and a lot of texts that were meant for her eyes only, but I trust her and I'm not at all worried about it. Even at our worst times I don't believe she would've done me like that. She's said as much too.

If you could marry any celebrity today who would it be?

I have celebrity crushes from, like, a physical standpoint and I may relate to some of them in certain ways and deeply respect/appreciate their work, but I wouldn't marry anyone I didn't know and connect with on a deep emotional level first. I don't know any celebrity in that way.

Have you been to a strip club?

No.

Is there anything pink within 10 feet of you?

Yeah. I have charging cables that are made of rope like materials that are pink.

Are you wearing socks right now?

Nope.

What was the last thing you had to drink?

Pepsi.

What are you wearing right now?

My gap sweater and changed to different leggings after I took a shower. These ones have zebra print on them.

Last food you ate?

Pasta.

Have you bought any clothing items in the last week?

I haven't bought clothing items in years.

When is the last time you ran?

I'm disabled. Can't walk or run.

What’s the last sporting event you watched?

Idk. I don't voluntarily watch sports.

Last person’s house you were in?

My brother's.

Last movie you saw?

Last one I watched at home was probably It Ends With Us. I hated it. Last in the theatre was Wicked. I loved that.

Who is the last person you sent a message to on Facebook?

Babe.

Ever go to camp?

I went to a disabled camp as a kid.

Were you an honor roll student in school?

For a while, yeah. Not straight through.

Do you like sushi?

Omg, I loooooove sushi.

Do you have a tan?

No.

How old do you want to be when you have kids?

I can't have kids. :(

Have you ever drank your soda from a straw?

Many times.

What is your age?

32.

Are you someone’s best friend?

Yes. 🥰

Where is your dad right now?

Probably working. He's been doing night shifts.

What was the last thing you said?

Out loud? "whoops." when I dropped the Roku remote.

What color is your watch?

I don't have a watch.

What do you think of when you think of Australia?

Sydney Opera House.

Ever ridden on a roller coaster?

Just ones at local fairs, but yeah.

Favorite gemstone?

My birthstone. I also love Amethyst.

Do you go in at a fast food place or just hit the drive thru?

Usually we do the drive thru.

Do you have a roommate?

No.

Do you have any bad habits?

Swearing

Overthinking/catastrophizing

Being unkind to myself/negative self talk

What is your favorite number?

Four.

Do you know anyone named Lori?

I used to.

What color is your mom’s hair?

Grey.

Do you have a dog?

No. We had family dogs but I opted for a cat for my own pet as I'm not really in a position to be able to have a dog here.

What happened to you in 1993?

Not much that I have memory of, since I was born in 1992.

Does your first memory involve your dad?

Not my very first one, probably, but I do have very early memories of him and mum fighting when he was drunk. He dropped me down some stairs at my step cousin's birthday party as a toddler because of drinking too much. I remember that because I got hurt and it led to him and mum fighting terribly.

Do you remember singing any songs as kids?

Oh, of course!

When was the last time you went swimming?

It's been too long. :( I keep asking dad to take me but he's just so busy because of work.

Has your luggage ever gotten lost?

No. Thankfully didn't experience this when I flew.

Biggest annoyance in your life right this minute?

Having to move :(

Have you ever thought it would be cool to smash a guitar?

No. I had this done to my guitar when I was younger before I could seriously learn how to play. I would never do this to an instrument. That's terrible. Especially someone else's.

Do you like watching a bonfire?

Yasss! 😍 Love a good bonfire.

Are you allergic to anything?

One specific medication. Sometimes my eyes get itchy and watery and I get stuffy when Nippy's hair gets on me in large amounts, but it's nothing I won't handle in order to have her. It's not serious and she's more than worth it.

What is one thing you miss about your past?

There really isn't much. I'm surprised I made it through a lot of it and would rather not relive it very often if I don't have to.

Do you ever get flu shots?

I have, but I don't get them regularly.

Favorite shoes that you wear all the time?

I have literally one pair that still fit when symptoms of chronic venous insufficiency are particularly bad. I don't wear them in the house 'cause I can't put them on on my own.

What is one thing you’ve learned about life recently?

Oh yanno, life just be fucking lifin' whether you like it or not. 🫠

Are you jealous of anyone?

I'm envious of able bodied people, their freedom. People who can have babies.

Is anyone jealous of you?

I don't see why. They've no reason to be. Like, at all.

[casspurrjoybell-33]

Unlikely Places - Chapter 8 - Part 1

*Warning Adult Content*

Chapter: 8 - Nosy Curiosity

Not much had been said since Nurse Rosie interrupted our conversation.

I still wasn't quite sure why Pierce was putting most of the blame for my health on my friends but since it seemed to be such a sore subject to him, I didn't bring it back up.

I just wanted to go home.

A few hours later, once the IV solution bag had been emptied and a few more tests run, I finally got my wish.

Checking out took a little longer than checking in but I was pretty sure the process was still speedier than average.

Nurse Rosie insisted on pushing me out to the car in a wheelchair.

It was something I could have done without but one look at Pierce and I had decided not to argue.

As we approached, I saw Cicero's large head sticking outside the car window and the sight of his happy face was just what I needed.

I was able to give him a loving nuzzle before I slipped into the backseat.

Pierce climbed in across from me and in seconds we were in motion.

I sat stiffly, staring out the window at the blurs of color on the other side. I was tired and famished.

I was also very much aware of the man who sat next to me.

"How long have you been taking medication for anxiety?" Pierce murmured from his side of the car.

My head swiveled toward him.

He wasn't looking at me but out the window.

He sounded calm, maybe even bored.

Was this his way of making small talk?

A bit personal I thought but mentally shrugged.

It was Pierce after all, boundary crossing was probably one of his hobbies.

"Awhile," I answered.

He didn't turn to look at me but I saw his mouth compress.

He obviously hadn't liked my answer.

"How long is awhile?" he persisted.

I sighed out loud.

He was a like a bulldozer.

"Since before high school," I gave in and answered.

It wasn't as if I was trying to hide it and it was nothing to be ashamed of.

Some people had difficulty coping with certain things in life and needed a little help.

I just happened to be one of those people.

Story over.

I watched him nod with his face still turned away from me.

Even though I could only see half of his expression, I could easily tell he still wasn't happy.

That kind of made me mad.

"Taking anxiety medication doesn't make me weak," I said into the continuing silence.

Pierce swiftly turned to look at me as I spoke with a look of surprise.

"I didn't say it did," he replied.

"Well your expression seemed to be implying it," I retorted, turning away from him to stare out my own window.

"Jackson, seriously," he said.

"I don't think it makes you weak."

I grimaced.

I didn't know why but I didn't believe him.

It was probably because he seemed so strong and dominant and very much in charge.

He hadn't hesitated provoking me last night despite my being surrounded by a third of a football team.

I'm sure I looked and acted like a puny weakling in comparison to someone like him.

As I stared out the window, I began to explain to him what had been explained to me and my parents so many years ago when the topic of me starting a prescription medication came up.

"Anxiety doesn't mean I am mentally unstable. It doesn't mean I am not intelligent and it doesn't mean I can't live a normal life. It just means sometimes I get a little more stressed, for lack of a better word, than others. The medication helps to alleviate that stress."

I turned to look at Pierce then, who was quietly watching me.

"If you were sick and had diabetes that required insulin, would you take it?" I asked.

He nodded his head.

"If the doctor said that was my only alternative to stay healthy then, of course."

"Well, think of anxiety medication the same way. It's something I need so I experience less excessive worry and therefore fewer panic attacks like I did today. Though I don't have panic attacks often I really only suffer from anxiety,but when I am overly stressed or overly tired, a panic attack can work its way into my day if I'm not careful," I explained.

"Why are you smiling?" I asked defensively.

I noticed he had started smiling halfway through my explanation.

It hurt to think he was laughing at me.

"Do I overwhelm you?" he asked, side eyeing me with a devilish grin.

I flushed.

From that long explanation; that was what he had taken from it?

"Were y-you even listening to me?" I grumbled, hating the stutter that seemed to have returned.

He chuckled.

"I was and that's what I heard and by the way," he added his tone becoming more serious as he turned to look at me.

"I really don't think you're weak for taking the medicine. I didn't before your explanation and I certainly don't after it."

I looked back out the window after studying his sincere face for a few moments.

"Okay," I mumbled.

I wasn't used to him being soft or sincere.

He was usually mocking me or teasing me or being angry at me.

The gentleness threw me into a state of flux that I didn't know how to react to.

I prayed we would reach my house sooner rather than later.

Thankfully sooner arrived in no time.

The bodyguard, Marcus, also known as Cicero's new best friend pulled into my driveway five minutes later and turned off the engine.

I turned to Pierce to thank him for all he had done but was surprised to find he was already opening his car door and stepping out into the late afternoon sun.

What time was it?

My stomach growled.

I was starving.

The IV had helped with my blood sugar but I needed real food soon, very soon.

Cicero did, too.

I was about to open my car door when Marcus did it for me and red faced, I stepped out apologizing for having taken so long.

Pierce was standing nearby with Cicero on his leash.

He was frowning at me.

"I bet you're hungry," he said with what sounded like concern.

"We should have stopped for something on the way home."

"It's o-okay," I assured him, putting my hand over my stomach as it screamed at me again to nourish it.

I didn't think Pierce had heard but Marcus's knowing chuckle and glance down at my belly clued him in.

I quickly withdrew my hand and walked with determined steps towards Pierce to grab Cicero's leash.

If I acted like I was fine then he would think I was fine and he would leave.

At least that is what I hoped.

I should have known Pierce had other plans.

[jes7cka]

my dad told me on the way home from work he almost hit an elderly man in the middle of the road. he was sitting still in his wheelchair smoking his cigarette, unbothered—irritated that my dad even stopped.

last month i chased my grandmother down who ran off trying to cash in a fraudulent check.

since 2019 she’s been in a relationship with a man from philadelphia. she shows her love in gift cards. i told her that’s not how love works.

i get in my car and drive to every bank she could be in.

two years ago my mom ran around my neighborhood calling out my name when i ran off with an older man.

i was rather annoyed at the time but i couldn’t understand her, like when my grandmother didn’t understand why i followed her to the bank or when my parents took her laptop away.

she sneaks to the library and tells me she’s better off dead—that she doesn’t deserve nice things because she’s old.

my heart breaks.

it feels karmic in a way. we don’t listen to reason because we were both stubbornly in love.

the other day i was driving and saw the carcass of what was once a raccoon on the road. an image of a dear friend flashed through my mind. i freaked out and swerved, dodging its body.

it gave a bad feeling in my stomach, like the feeling i had last night when the same friend asked me to hang out after work for the second time this week.

something in the air was different but i dismissed it. i ignored the little voice asking me why i did so.

i ignore the voice telling me i deserve better—a better job with consistent hours, a friend that can solely be my friend, a partner who i can ramble about art and abstract concepts with.

love is an all-powerful, often confusing force that binds us in ways we don’t always understand. it compels us to drive to every bank in the city, to take away laptops, to stop traffic for a moment of concern.

it also blinds us to our own needs and desires, leaving us stuck in situations that don’t serve us.

i hope i can listen to these whispers of truth and care for others while honoring my own needs.

[smoke-and-waves]

I wanted to add something to this. I’m an american who went from living in a very typical american city and driving long commutes to living in whats called the bike capital of Germany. (I no longer live there so it’s not like I’m doxxing myself)

And guys. The DIFFERENCE

Everyone had bikes. Most people had multiple bikes. There was a thriving bike black market. The city would periodically fish out masses of bikes that had gotten dumped in rivers. Some people had bikes that they could fold in half. All food deliveries happened on bike. Children were towed behind bikes in covered baby chariots like little roman emperors. There were electric bikes. There was free bike events to help immigrants get a bike and repair the bikes they already had. It was bike nirvana

I did not ride a bike.

I also didn’t own a car. And I still got around better than I did in America. Why?

Reliable public transport.

I could take a bus at any point in the city and get to the other side. And this is the other part of “walkable cities” that doesn’t get talked about as much (mostly because I think taking the bus vs riding a bike has Class Connotations in the US but that’s not the point of this post)

And I saw more disabled people in Germany in three months than I did in the US in my entire life. Because here’s the thing: busses are designed to accommodate wheelchairs here. They have hydraulic wheels so they can lower to the curb. There’s a massive door in the middle that people with bikes, strollers, and wheelchairs can all fit in. There’s a place with no seats so there’s enough space for up to three people with wheelchairs to sit—and I’ve seen that many. There’s a ramp you can pull open so that people can wheel themselves on and off, and someone almost always jumps up to get the ramp open before the person in the wheelchair has to ask.

It also allows the elderly a lot more mobility. I’ve seen so many grandmas and grandpas tottering onto the bus with their walkers and sitting down and having a chat with the person next to them. I’ve helped a blind lady find her right bus and get on

And that’s not even mentioning the non bus stuff! There were bikes specifically designed to offer lower back support

There were electric bikes so that people who had issues with stamina and speed could still get around comfortably. That’s not even mentioning the scooters

Europe isn’t perfect with how it accommodates disability (most bathrooms in restaurants are at the end of an insane labyrinth of narrow halls and twisting stairs) but one thing that I really love about it is how you can see so many different types of people. A walkable city doesn’t mean getting rid of roads, it just means that you don’t have to drive

But okay. One last story and I’m done

One time, I was walking home. I was coming up to a bridge, and the sun was setting, and I heard a buzzing noise of a motor behind me. I looked back, and blazing up the bike path was an old man in an electric wheelchair. He must have modified this thing because he was flying up the path. Cyclists were jumping out of the way, he was dinging his bell to get the ones in front of him out of the way, and then he blew past me, just like that. He must have been like 60, and he was in a wheelchair, and he was the fastest person on the street

How to tell someone's feelings about urbanism in 1 easy step

Ask them their opinion on Dutch Cycling infrastructure

[forever-rogue]

i looove the concept of nurse!steve like imagine you get into a minor accident and he’s the nurse that takes cares of you in the ER, and you’re both immediately smitten. It would be the cutest meet cute 🥺😭

AN | Eeeek! The idea of nurse Steeb makes me so 🥺🥺

Warnings | Mild Language

Pairing | Nurse!Steve x Fem!Reader

Word Count | 3.2k

Masterlist | Nurse Steve, Steve, Main

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“This is absolutely ridiculous,” a huff and a puff escaped your lips as your friend Chelsea pushed a wheelchair towards you. A fervent shake of your head accompanied your glare but did nothing to detract from the bemused little smile on her face, “no. Nope.”

“Alright,” she sighed softly; one of your best and worst qualities was your steadfast and stubborn nature, “walk into the ER by yourself then. But I’m not going to help you at all.”

“I will,” narrowed eyes accompanied a small sound of determination as you tried to step out of the car and into the brightly lit building. As soon as you put even the slightest bit of weight onto your hurt ankle, a hiss of pain slipped out, “fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“Hmm,” Chelsea stood there, tapping her fingers on her chin as though she was mulling over the situation at hand, “does it hurt a little? ‘Cause it kinda looks like it hurts a lot.”

“Fuck off,” she knew you didn’t mean it, that your words held no malice but the pain was starting to set in, “I just need a moment, ‘s all.”

“Babe,” she held out a hand for you to grasp, she could help pull you out of the car, “your ankle is broken. There’s no way it’s not, and you’re only going to make it worse if you try to hobble your stubborn ass in there.”

“It’s not broken,” you pouted at her, trying to keep the tears from pearling up and running down your cheeks, “it’s not.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“That is one hell of a broken ankle,” the doctor held the x-rays up to the light before shaking her head. You felt pathetic as you sat there in a thin paper gown, face tearstained, with your bruised, swollen, broken joint, “you must have done a number on it. How did this happen again?”

“I-I don’t remember,” you stammered, nervously scratching the back of your neck, “accident.”

“You don’t remember,” she repeated as you lamely nodded, “I’m not going to sugarcoat it, but that ankle is badly broken and depending on it heals, might need surgery. I’m concerned if you don’t remember how it happened…either you blacked out, have some sort of concussion, or…someone did this and you’re covering up. I really hope it’s none of those, but I can offer you support if it was-”

“I fell,” you cut her off, dismissing any idea that someone was responsible for your clumsy ass, “I was…walking out of my office building and walking down the stairs outside, wasn’t paying attention and slipped on something and fell, and somehow managed to land on my ankle. It’s no one’s fault besides my own.”

You heard a snicker from the corner of the room and your gaze shifted up from the floor and behind the doctor. At first you hadn't noticed him come in, but when you saw him, your heart rate picked up and you were even more embarrassed than before.

“Harrington,” the doctor turned around to gently chide the nurse before turning back to you. There was a little smile tugging up the corner of her mouth and you just knew it was at your expense.

“What’s gonna happen?” you asked softly, although you already had a pretty damn good idea. You were such an idiot.

“We’re going to set the joint and then put on a cast. We’ll leave it on for…hmm, let’s say 8 weeks for now and then we’ll see how it’s healed and go from there,” she made a few notes on your chart as you groaned, not even bothering to hide your annoyance, “but we’ll set you up with painkillers because that is going to hurt even more once the adrenaline and shock has worn off. No driving, and you’ll need to use crutches or a wheelchair. The rest Steve can go over with you and if you have any questions, let him know.”

“Thank you,” you weren’t feeling thankful at all.

“Just take it easy,” she insisted before turning towards the door, “the gentler you are, the sooner it’ll get better.”

“Fuck me,” the fact that the most handsome man you had ever seen was standing directly in front of you didn’t stop you from sounding like a petulant child. You were tired, frustrated, hungry, and in pain. And you’d just been told that your life was basically going to take a drastic turn for at least the next two months, “I’m such an idiot.”

“It could have been worse,” he offered softly, not even phased by your little outburst. He saw all kinds of things, people dealing with many different things, with very different dispositions. You were about as mild as they came, all things considered. You paused your little pity party for a moment to look up and caught his eyes. Those were some pretty eyes; big and honeyed brown and you immediately decided you could spend a lifetime looking into them, “coulda broken both ankles, ya know? Or had some weird embarrassing thing happen and suddenly everyone knows your dirty laundry.”

“Like a weird sex thing?” your eyes grew wide as you realized what you had just blurted out. A light flush of pink welled up in his cheeks before he nodded, laughing softly.

“Yeah,” he agreed, “like a weird sex thing. In any case, a broken ankle isn’t the worst. It sucks, don’t get me wrong, but it could be worse. I’ll make sure to set it really well and get you all situated. Then, I want you to come back in about two weeks so I can take a look to make sure everything is okay. I’ll even let you pick the cast color. Sound good?”

“No,” you sighed dramatically, which only caused him to chuckle, “I mean yes, and I know I don’t have a choice, but I’m really kicking myself for being so careless.”

“I don’t think you’re kicking much of anything right now, sweetheart,” he had a cheeky little grin on his face, and despite your current state of despair you couldn’t help but match his smile, “so - what color? Blue, red, pink, purple, yellow, white, green, orange?”

“Pink?” you looked so undeniably pathetic but even more cute, with your voice so small and soft. Steve couldn’t help the fluttering in his stomach; it was strange - he dealt with so many different patients, but none had him feel like this, “please?”

“Coming right up,” he promised softly, “it might hurt a little so I apologize in advance. The meds they already gave you should help but I’ll be gentle.”

“Thank you,” there was something about him that suggested he naturally had a nurturing and patient side. You felt like you could trust him, despite having known him for all of half an hour. Before he could start, you couldn’t help but flinch slightly, “Steve? I-I’m sorry, but I’m scared. I’ve never had anything like this happen.”

“It’ll be okay,” his promise was soft and he gave your shoulder a gentle squeeze. He tucked a few stray locks of hair behind your eyes before keeping his gaze on you, “I’ll take care of you, sweetheart. I’ll try and make it better, okay?”

“O-okay,” you felt more tears welling up in your eyes, a combination of stress, pain, and general anxiety, “I trust you, Steve. Thank you.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The first two weeks passed by painfully slowly. It was like time had been slowed down just to torture you. Getting used to the cast had gone better than expected by was still a challenge, especially when you couldn’t drive yourself; luckily Indianapolis had a decent public transport system and your friends were more than kind to assist. The pain had dulled, but there was still plenty of that too. Overall…not a great experience and you would not have recommended it to anyone. 

The main thing that kept you going, and you’d never admit this out loud to anyone, was the fact that you’d be getting to see Steve again. Yup, that’s right. Your nurse had been the star of many of your dreams lately, and there was something about him you couldn’t shake. You wanted to see him again. You just wished it was under different circumstances. Like you know…a date…but you were pretty sure there was something wrong with wanting to date your nurse or some professional responsibility violation, but you pushed that to the back of your head. It wasn’t like anything was going to happen. Nope. He was just going to examine your leg and get you in your merry little way.

“Hi sweetheart,” was his voice that gentle and sweet the last time you’d been there? Because damn. It was going to make you melt. You looked up from your chair and gave him a meek smile, “how’re you feeling?”

“As good as one can in a cast?” you shrugged sheepishly, “it still hurts sometimes, unfortunately. But overall, good?”

“No more accidents? No twists, sprains, exasperation, or excessive use?”

“No sir,” it might have been a bit of a lie. Steve clocked it immediately and raised an eyebrow as he waited for your real answer, “fine. The first week or so I tried to do more than I could. I’m sure it didn’t help anything.”

“Oh, silly girl,” he shook his head as he scribbled something down in his notes, “I thought I told you to take it easy? You don’t want to end up having surgery, do you?”

“No,” you frowned deeply; that idea alone terrified you. The way he was making you feel without even trying was also terrifying, “I don’t. I’ll be better, I promise. I just…I hate asking people for help or relying on anyone else. And I live alone, well, it’s and Mr. Beans - that’s my cat - but otherwise it’s just me. And I don’t want to make people come over to do things for me or to help. I’d rather just do it alone.”

“First of all,” he set his clipboard down and leaned cooly against the counter, looking ridiculously effortless and handsome in his dark navy scrubs, “I understand wanting to be independent and not asking people for help. Really, I do. But, sweetheart, you’re going to have to ask. People aren’t going to mind - they know you’d do the same thing for them. And second of all - Mr. Beans? I love it. Lemme guess, black cat?”

“Black and fluffy. He’s the best…but I’m sure even he’s sick of me,” you grinned as your face warmed at his curiosity, “and I’ll try and ask for help, even if I don’t want to. It’s just so…ugh. It’s not like I can just have you come and help! At least you’d know what to do and tell me what I can and can’t do.”

“You’ll be okay,” he promised with a soft smile. That dumb, damned smile made you want to punch something with how sweet it was, “and if you really needed someone, you could call me, just so you know.”

“I…umm,” your mouth ran as dry as the Sahara as you stared down at the big cast on your leg. Was he flirting? He wasn’t flirting. He couldn’t be flirting. Right? Right!? When you allowed yourself to look up he was still watching you with a delicate expression. Somehow you had the feeling that professional lines being blurred weren’t on either of your minds, “okay.”

“Good,” he turned around and you slightly panicked at how easy it all was. How easy it was to fall for the pretty boy that just happened to be your nurse, “now, let me take a look at that ankle and I’ll just have the doctor come in and take a peek. I want to take that cast off and make sure everything’s set okay since someone doesn’t like to play by the rules.” 

“Sorry,” he was eye level with you as the two of you grinned at one another, a secret shared with no one else, “Steve?”

“Hmm?”

“Can I have purple this time?”

“You can have whatever you’d like, sweetheart.”

You liked the sound of that.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The next couple of weeks went slightly smoother than the first two had…it probably had something to do with the fact that you’d actually listened to Steve’s advice and took it easy. It had hurt to ask for help; not your pride or anything, but you abhorred the idea that you made anyone go out of there for you or to help you. But deep down, even you couldn’t deny that it was a little nice to have help at your beck and call. You’d thought about calling the hospital up and asking for him, but you’d fought the urge…much to your chagrin.

It was nearing six weeks after the incident when you found yourself back in that sterile white room, sitting on the exam table, wishing you were anywhere else. Today you’d be able to find out whether your ankle was cooperating and resolving itself or if you were doomed. The other part of your nerves were due to getting to see your handsome nurse again…or so you hoped.

When the door opened after a few gentle knocks, you waited with baited breath. Steve walked inside like it was no big deal, looking better than ever and wearing glasses that looked both smart and handsome on him. It really wasn’t fair. 

“Nice to see you again, sweetheart,” surely it had to be illegal to be this handsome, smart, and kind. You choked out a small response, feeling a fool more than anything else, “how’ve you been? Actually taking it easy this time?”

“Yes,” this time it was a promise, “I’ve been good and taking advantage of using the help of my friends and family.”

“Good,” he flipped your chart and read through a few things, making some small sound as he did, “so, we’ll just get into that cast and take a look and go from there. The doctor will confirm if you’re good to go or not. I’m thinking everything’s looking good and it’ll be a few more weeks in the cast and then freedom.”

“I hope so too,” except for the part where it meant you wouldn’t see him again. That part sucked.

"Don't worry," he gave your knee a gentle little pat almost as if he could read your mind, "everything will be okay, sweetheart."

And it was. Your ankle was healing exceptionally well, you wouldn't need surgery, and only 2 more weeks in a cast. And it was blue this time. Blue because your pathetic, weak little heart was going to miss Steve. 

Realistically you knew that you could have asked Steve out. You know, on a real date instead of him looking at your hairy leg and funky ankle. But it still seemed so…wrong. And you weren't even really sure if he liked you, or you were just misinterpreting the signs and he was that friendly with everyone. That was a real possibility; he had a nurturing and soothing nature.

But instead of doing anything, you'd left and told him you'd be back in two weeks to get your cast off.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

And you did. Two weeks later you were back in the exam room that was becoming a little bit too familiar. Your heart was beating erratically in anticipation, coming to a full blown pounding when he came into the room.

"My favorite patient," fucking hell. He was a charmer if you'd ever met one, "well for about another hour or so. After that, we're just two people that happened to meet each other at the hospital."

He was being oddly specific. 

"My leg is looking forward to freedom," you grinned, "and I am looking forward to independence. Can't wait to be able to drive myself again and, you know, be able to shower and all that jazz."

"Let's get this plaster prison off then," he was grinning at your dramatic little rant, "and have the doctor clear you and get you outta here."

And….the time went by much too quickly. Did he really have to be so damn efficient? After a quick chat with the doctor and a plan for physical therapy, you were ready to go. Sadly. 

Once you were left in the room by yourself, you slipped on your second shoe - it was an odd feeling after not having worn one on that foot for almost 2 months. When you set it on the ground and tentatively put a little weight on it, you almost hissed in pain. It was such an odd sensation, not one of pain necessarily, just odd. Maybe physical therapy wouldn’t be such a bad idea after all. But you were definitely going to take the crutches with you. 

Before you could manage to hobble your way out of the door, you were taken aback by another knock. You hesitantly called for whoever it was to open the door and come in. To your surprise and wild delight, there stood Nurse Steve. 

“Hey,” his plush, berry pink lips pulled into a nervous little smile as he closed the door and leaned against the door, “so umm, this probably goes against everything I’ve been told and what’s considered professional. But you’re technically not my patient anymore, so I don’t feel as bad doing this.”

“Steve?”

“I was wondering if you wanted to get dinner sometime,” a huff of nervous laughter escaped his lips as he searched your face for any sort of reaction. When you remained silent, alarm bells in his head started to ring and ring loudly, “ugh…yeah, I did just ask you on a date. If that wasn’t clear and being completely unprofessional and I hope I’m not…coming off too strong. Or have read the signs wrong, ‘cause I thought you might feel the same way.”

“Steve-”

“Fuck,” he ran a hand through his pretty hair and groaned at himself, “I’m totally taking advantage of you. I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted to report me or-”

“Steve,” you put a hand on his cheek in order to stop his babbling, “don’t worry - I don’t think you’re being weird at all. Or creepy…maybe unprofessional but I’m definitely overlooking that because if the roles were reversed I’d be unprofessional too. I…I’d love to go out with you.”

“Yeah?” his big eyes looked hopeful as you nodded. 

“Yeah,” you nodded, “in fact, that I was…a lot upset that my ankle’s better and no more cast, because that meant I wouldn’t have a reason to see you again. Guess you’ve got some great timing.”

“Okay, phew,” he laughed nervously, “I’m glad…yeah. I just want you to know that I’ve never done this before. Asking out a patient and all. But then again, I’ve never felt like this about another patient. But that’s umm, great.”

“You’re funny,” you mused as his cheeks turned rosy, “I like you, nurse. I’ve got two requests though…”

“Name them.”

“One - can you help me out to the lobby? My friend’s waiting for me and my whole leg feels so weird still,” you asked sheepishly and nodded happily, “and two - how about Friday for dinner?”

“One - absolutely,” he grinned, “and two - absolutely. And another thing, I might add, I can’t wait to kiss you.”

“Hmm,” you mused softly as he handed you the crutches, “I look forward to that too, Steve. Friday.”

“Friday.”

[missluckycharms]

can you do a imagine where y/n plays volleyball and she gets hurt and h take care of her?

A/N: hiii! I hope you like this! I also had to look up some details about volleyball as it’s not really that commonly played here in Ireland, if I say something wrong pls ignore it I tried my best. The vaccine is kicking my ass rn, I got my second dose so if this sucks and there’s mistakes pls ignore that also 😭 Enjoy !!

This is college!Harry and Y/N I hope you don’t mind !!

Warnings: talks of smut, strong language and Harry being a sarcastic loveable asshole.

Today was not Y/N day.

First of all, she woke up late, giving her only twenty minutes to get ready and make her way to college, which is usually a thirty minute drive without traffic. She was like a lightening bolt running through her apartment, falling over Harry’s shoes that were just abandoned around her room and trying to find any clean clothes as Harry came over last night and as usual, he distracted her from doing what she needed to do, which was her laundry.

He was asleep while she did all this, her small huffs and puffs picking up his shoes and throwing them into the corner didn’t even cause the lazy log in the bed to move once, his body tucked up under the covers as his face smushed against her purple sheets as he let out small snores, she looked at him and silently wished that was her. She was lucky she packed her gym bag last night before he arrived over, all of her clothes, her ankle braces, her knee pads and her favourite trainers she wears for games all packed into her bag and all she needed to do was pick it up and throw it into the trunk of her car along with her book bag.

She kissed Harry’s forehead and again, he did not even move, he may of given out a slight hum for a grumbled word but Y/N didn’t have time to contemplate what he said, she was rushing out the door wearing clothes that were probably Harry’s as the joggers were nearly falling off her as she ran. She didn’t care though, she needed to be in her first lecture or her grades would go down. She made it to campus with only thirty seconds to spare, she doesn’t know how she wasn’t pulled over for driving faster than the speed limit when she saw the campus come into view. Her body ran through the halls, dodging anyone in her way as she dragged herself to the lecture hall where her professor was probably already starting lesson, his usual morning introduction as everyone set up their laptops or notepads for the hour lecture ahead.

She got a disapproving look from her professor when she slide into a row, flopping down onto the seat and apologising as she rummaged through her bag looking for her laptop. Her professor was already going over what they would be covering today when she realised she doesn’t have her laptop. Then she remembered where it is, it’s in her apartment in the bathroom.

Harry insisted they had a bath last night to relax her after she took some exams in college that day, the pair were soaked under the bubble filled hot water with her laptop propped up on the sink playing a show on Netflix as they relaxed and spoke about their day. She grabbed her notebook and pen and immediately began to scribble down the notes she would have to transfer onto her laptop tonight, if Harry doesn’t distract her again. She knows he might not, he has classes of his own today, his starting later than hers and his classes only being on four days a week instead of five like Y/N, yesterday was his day off, hence why he was being a needy little shit and clinging to Y/N like his lifeline until they fell asleep.

The day dragged out for Y/N, her usual one hour classes feeling like four hours, her notes taking for ages to write up as she tried to keep up with what was being displayed on the board, her lunchtime consisting of her bumming off her friend for a few dollars to get something to eat as she left her purse at home, her friend didn’t mind but she felt awful for asking. When the day finally ended she was relieved, all she wanted to do was get into the gymnasium and play some volleyball with her team to get all the anger she felt today, she was not having a good day and the only things that can help her with that is Harry or volleyball, and because she had training today over their at home game being played next week, she was relieved she could get some stress reliving in before going back to her place where she knows Harry will be — he hates his own apartment as he shares, Y/N only having a one bedroom one that she snagged and Harry being left with a flat thats shared between four people, there’s no privacy there, none.

“You’ve been tense all day, is everything okay?” Abbie, Y/N best friend asks as they begin their warm ups, the two sat on the floor side by side as the stretch their legs and arms getting warmed up for practice.

“Today wasn’t my day, woke up late, forgot my laptop and purse and now I have to go home and type up nearly fifty pages of notes onto my laptop — Who’s idea was it for me to study Biochemistry?” She laughs out, stretching her arms behind her head as Abbie follows suit, the pair watching as the coach shows them what to do, the pair sat at the back to avoid being yelled at for talking.

“I think that was your idea, I certainly didn’t force you to do that. If it helps, environmental studies isn’t easier, I swear I’m constantly writing up lab reports and giving presentations each week” Abbie rolls her eyes, the pair now doing lunges as they continue to chat.

“Shit! I have a presentation next week, I totally forgot” Y/N groans, squeezing her eyes in frustration as she hasn’t even started yet, her mind immediately going to how she has to type up the whole presentation while probably having Harry hang out of her. Harry is studying sports science, in hopes to one day set up his own personal training business. They usually have study sessions together as Harry has just as much work as Y/N, but Harry isn’t as much as a perfectionist as Y/N, he’ll slap together a presentation and call it a night while she has to make it look pretty and aesthetically pleasing.

After a fifteen minute warm up, the girls are already playing a mini match for practice, six players per team, Y/N being up nearest to the net with three other girls. She’s been named as one of the teams best scorers, her jumps are high and her force hitting the ball is something that scares opposing teams when they play competitions. She’s been on the college team for nearly two years now, her whole college course is five years long — she’s aiming for a bachelors degree in Biochemistry, she’s so happy she has something else to do while in here, she knows she would of went crazy if she didn’t have something to calm her down.

They play three games, Y/N’s team wining the first game and the teams tying on the last game due to the positions being switched and she was put to the back to give other players the chance to spike the ball up. She’s back up front on the third game, her body now rested from the small water break they were given in between the games, her body full of adrenaline and ready to play. The game is playing out as usual, Y/N jumping and spiking the ball up and over the net with the help of her team mates, the other team just as good as them as they all battle it out on the court. In the last two minutes is when it all goes downhill, Y/N jumps up to spike the ball, when she lands, she wobbles and falls over, her ankle rolling as she cries out in pain on the court, the coach blowing the whistle to stop the game as everyone rushes around her.

She tries to stand up, she falls back down again, Abbie and another girl holding her up as she shuts her eyes in pain. The coach takes off her ankle brace and sock with her permission, she’s now sitting on the bench as her ankle is iced and checked over by the coach, Abbie helping Y/N by refilling her water bottle when needed, her ankle now propped up on a chair with ice on it as the rest of the team begins their warm downs.

“It’s definitely sprained” Abbie says looking under the ice at her ankle, Y/N wincing when Abbie presses down lightly, jumping when she lets out a small cry.

“Yep, definitely sprained” she says putting the ice back on and sitting down next to her friend as they both laugh a little, the pain easing off with the ice as Abbie distracts her with stories and jokes.

“Y/N, do you have anyone to take you home?” The coach asks, allowing the rest to leave as Abbie stays seated with Y/N.

“I’ll call my boyfriend, thank you for your help” she says as the coach pats her on the back, telling her she can take all the time she needs off while also still being allowed to attend the games to support. She’s devastated about it, but at least she can support her team from the sidelines.

“What happened?” Harry asks running out of his car, the door slamming as Abbie wheels Y/N out in wheelchair given to them by the coach from the injury room.

“Fucked my ankle, doesn’t surprise me honestly, today wasn’t a good day” she sighs s Harry laughs a little, helping her out of the wheelchair and guiding her towards his car that’s parked only three steps away.

“You’re okay now, let’s get you home and rested, yeah?” He says laying her down on the back seat, picking her leg up and resting it on the seat as she winches in pain a little as she adjusts herself on the seat.

“Thanks for all your help, I’ll have Niall come and pick her car up later” Harry says to Abbie, closing the back door and smiling at the girl who’s waving in at her best friend who’s mortified in the back of the car, laughing masking the pain she’s feeling.

“If you both need anything give me a call” she says as Harry nods waving her off as he sits into the car, turning around to look at his girlfriend who’s looking back at him holding in her laugh.

“Only you” he shakes his head laughing as Y/N lets out a loud cackle, knowing he’s right, only her would end up fucking up her ankle even with a brace on it, it’s defiantly a Y/N thing to do.

The car ride home is filled with laughing and a few sing songs as Harry tries to distract her from the pain. He helps her into her apartment by carrying her bridal style up the flight of stairs and placing her down onto the sofa, propping her leg up on the coffee table, raising her ankle up on a pillow as he races to the freezer to find something to put on the injury.

“Okay, all you’ve got is frozen peas” he says placing the green packet down onto her ankle, the picture of peas hilarious as it rests on her skin, the swelling gone down since the gymnasium which is good, as Harry says.

“I’ll run to the store to get you some bandages soon, right now, you need some tea, the sugar will help with the shock you got” he says immediately snapping into Mum mode with her, Y/N smiling at Harry in the kitchen behind her, her head turning and resting on the back of the sofa as she watches him saunter around her kitchen.

“Do you have any homework you need completing? I got all mine done in library period we had today, I’m free to do yours if you have any” he says fiddling with the kettle and switching it on, placing a tea bag into her favourite purple polka dot mug.

“I have to transfer handwritten notes onto my laptop, I can do that” she says as Harry turns around, waiting for the kettle to boil as he looks at her.

“Nope, I’m doing that for you, you need rest! I’m here to help you, I’ll be your nurse” he says turning back around to pour the boiling water into the mug.

“I’m fine Harry, it’s just a small sprain” she fights back, Harry shaking his head as he walks in with her mug filled with warm tea, passing it to her as he sits next to her wrapping his arm around the back of the sofa.

“I’m not leaving you here alone, if you fall what will you do? Get up and walk?” He says sarcastically as she rolls her eyes laughing, resting her head back on his arm as they begin watching the TV before them.

“Also, I expect the same in return if I ever get hurt” he jokes as she slaps his arm playfully, laughing loudly as Harry wiggles his eyebrows at her.

“You’re on top for the next few weeks Styles” she says sipping on her tea as Harry laughs, reaching over to kiss her check.

“I’m always on top, darling” he whispers to her as she pulls back looking at him with a raised eyebrow.

“Babe, please can you be on top? I had a leg cramp this morning and it might come back” she says lowly, imitating Harry and his deep British accent as he looks at her rolling his eyes.

“I don’t sound like that” he says taking her mug from her and sipping a little from her tea as she takes it back off him with a loud groan at what he just did — he always does it to annoy her, or he’ll dip some biscuits into her tea when she’s not looking.

“Oh yeah, must be what my other boyfriend sounds like” she says riling him up, his head turning to her as she looks at the TV screen laughing behind the rim of her mug.

“You’re lucky you’re injured m’love, if you weren’t you would be over my shoulder and thrown down onto your bed and I’d show you who’s your boyfriend, or daddy as you like” he says wiggling his eyebrows as she groans into her tea.

“It was one time! I said it by accident!” She shouts, turning bright red as Harry laughs loudly, kissing her cheek as she pouts looking down at her mug.

“You know I liked it, it’s okay baby” he says resting her head on his shoulder as she cuddles into him, her empty mug on her lap as she pulls the blanket down from the back of the sofa, placing her empty mug on the floor and throwing the blanket over them both.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you” she says feeling sleepy, her day catching up on her as Harry helps her nurse her injury, his hands fixing the frozen peas on her ankle if they move a little.

“You’d probably break your neck or something” Harry says as she groans looking up at him, his dimples popping out as he laughs at his own joke.

“I’m being nice!” She says as he bends down to peck her lips, their smiles against one another lips as they pull away looking at one another.

“I know m’baby, I don’t know what you’d do without me either!” He says sighing in contentment as she rolls her eyes squishing her face into his chest.

“Harry!”

[helloalycia]

my patient’s neighbour [six] // wanda maximoff

summary: after spending some more time with Wanda against your will, you begin to realise how she feels for you.

warning/s: none.

author's note: hope you like angst! because you got it 👀 also there’s only one more part left after this so be prepared!

part one | part two | part three | part four | part five | part seven | masterlist | wattpad

"You look like you're on a warpath."

I stopped speed walking around the place when Natasha appeared out of nowhere, stepping in front of me. She seemed entertained, before she realised I was probably actually on a warpath.

"Hey, what happened?" she asked, amusement replaced with concern in seconds.

"Wanda happened," was all I said, before walking around her and storming up to the Sokovian in question.

When she spotted me, she opened her mouth to say something, but I didn't give her chance to as I grabbed her wrist and began to drag her away.

"Sorry, if you'll excuse me," Wanda got out to the guests she was chatting with, before I yanked her away. She began to complain as I did, asking, "What are you doing? I was in the middle of a conversation!"

I ignored her and proceeded to drag her away, certain that steam would be coming from my ears if this was a cartoon. Finding a private place to talk, I let go of her hand and spun around with a glare.

"Your thoughts are very loud right now," she said playfully, clearly not reading the situation.

"Then you know that I'm imagining several different ways to murder you," I got out between gritted teeth.

She scrunched her nose. "They all end in you going to prison."

Something about that obnoxious smile she wore and the way her hazel eyes watched me with anticipation was making me angrier by the second.

"How can you do that?!" I asked with exasperation.

She quirked a brow. "And what is 'that' exactly?"

I locked my jaw. "You ruined my date! You kept getting into my head all day, you were rude to Elise, and you're just– you're oozing with jealousy when you're the one who broke up with me!"

She scrunched her nose for the second time, and whereas I would have once found that endearing, I know found it greatly frustrating.

"Oozing? Really? Who says that?"

I closed my hands into fists, trying not to get baited by her purposeful obliviousness. But she was already under my skin, and ever since she broke up with me, the anger had been bubbling away, ready to come out.

"You're such a bitch, Wanda!" I shouted at her without hesitation. "You don't care that you just ruined my chance at moving on! Six months has passed since you broke up with me – you don't get to be jealous! I had to learn to be without you because you gave up on us and that's on you! So, you don't get to be here and make me feel bad for having a chance at a date because you can't make up your mind about us. It's not fair!"

My shoulders relaxed as I got my thoughts out, the anger still present but not as heavy on my back. She was infuriating as I watched her. Barely fazed by my words, a small smile played on her lips. She did nothing to acknowledge my mini speech, instead waiting for me to say something else.

"Seriously?!" I squeaked, my voice rising with annoyance. "Nothing?!"

As if pulled from a daydream, she straightened up and seemed confused. "Huh?"

I groaned loudly, eyebrows raised with disbelief. "For God's sake, Wanda!" Running out of patience, I shook my head and glared harshly. "I want you to stay away from me. You don't get to be in my life like this. And just in case you don't understand what I'm saying, here's something you will. Otvali (fuck off)!"

Not bothering to wait for a response, I stomped past her and didn't look back. As I was walking away, a tear slipped from my eye and I whipped it away without question. She didn't get to do this to me, not again. It wasn't fair.

— 

Despite practically yelling in Wanda's face to stay away from me, she didn't take the hint. Instead, I proceeded to see her two more times in places I least expected it. To be fair, I don't think she did it on purpose. But she could have easily walked the other way and pretended not to see me. Instead, she thought it would be best to piss me off further.

The first time was when I was at a park with a new patient I was caring for. He was wheelchair-bound, so I pushed him around as we spoke to pass the time. We eventually stopped at a newspaper stand since he wanted to buy a few magazines, and that's when I conveniently got bumped into by the Sokovian witch.

"Y/N, hey!" she exclaimed when I turned to see who was there. She had a wide smile on her face, eyes shining bright under the sun. Admittedly, it took my breath away for a second, as I didn't expect it in the slightest. But then I remembered who it was and tried to ignore the way my heart rate sped up.

"Hello," I mumbled, before looking back to the newspaper stand with hopes she'd go away.

"And who is this beautiful young woman, Y/N?" my patient, Dayton, asked as he noticed her beside me.

I pursed my lips, trying to figure out the best response without earning more questions from Dayton, but Wanda decided to answer instead.

"We were girlfriends," she told Dayton with a grin, eyes glancing to me.

"Key word being were," I added quickly, shooting her a look, before looking to Dayton. "It's not a big deal."

"It may not be to you, but it's good to see you, moya lyubov' (my love)," she said softly, grin fading into a genuine smile.

"Don't call me that," I snapped, hating the way her words had such an effect on me. Her stupid accent and her stupid smile and her stupid pretty eyes. Hated it all.

"Ooh, what does that mean?" Dayton asked, looking up between us.

"Nothing, Dayton," I told him calmly, before nodding to the stand. "Just buy your magazines whilst I talk to Wanda."

He shrugged and did as I said, leaving me a moment to stand back and look to Wanda disapprovingly.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, lowering my voice so I wouldn't make a scene. Nothing was accidental with her.

"Just enjoying a walk through the park," she answered with a shrug.

I rolled my eyes. "Well, enjoy your walk."

As I made an attempt to leave, she stepped in front of me suddenly.

"Wait, can we talk?" she asked, losing any sense of mischief.

"No," I deadpanned. "Now, can I leave?"

She frowned, eyes pleading. "Please?"

"I said no."

She sighed, glancing around with irritation. Her eyes settled on the flower stand beside the newspaper stand and I didn't have chance to question what she was thinking before her eyes began to glow red. Raising her hand conspicuously, red wisps of energy appeared and she levitated a single flower from one of the many bouquets, hovering it before me.

"For you," she said, and I ripped it out of the air, frantically looking around in case anyone saw.

"Very clever," I said sarcastically, before looking at the flower and shaking my head. "Stealing isn't cool, by the way."

I dropped the flower on the ground and walked away, my foot stepping on it as I did. She needed to get a damn hint.

—

The second time Wanda reappeared in my life was when Anna invited me to Sasha's home for a visit. I'd been once before, a few weeks after she'd moved in with her granddaughter's family, but not since then. This time, she'd invited me over again to catch up and I assumed it would just be me and her family; Oh, how wrong I was.

Sasha and her family were pretty wealthy, their house sitting on the outskirts of New York and on its own private land. She was a lawyer, hence the wealth, and her home was absolutely stunning with its high ceilings, floor to ceiling windows and three floor structure. Even as I parked out front for the second time in my life, I was blown away.

As I got out of my car and locked it, I noticed another car parking out front – a taxi, dropping someone off. Curious, I waited to see who it was. My eyes narrowed when I noticed a familiar face exiting the taxi and paying the driver. When the taxi drove off, Wanda saw me and began to smile with amusement, joining me at the front door.

"The stalking is getting creepy you know," I told her when she stood by my side.

I knocked on the door using the giant knocker and waited patiently for someone to answer.

"I'd love to take the credit for this," Wanda answered, and I could see her smug smile in my peripheral, "but I was invited by Anna."

I swallowed hard, resisting the urge to roll my eyes, both at Wanda's presence and Anna's secrecy. "Of course she did..."

The door opened to reveal none other than Anna Pivec herself, balancing on her cane and grinning at the sight of Wanda and I.

"Devushki (girls), you made it!" she exclaimed with delight, before stepping to the side. "Please, come on in!"

We both entered her home and watched as she closed the door before giving us both a big hug without warning.

"Oh, okay," I mumbled, but wrapped an arm around her gently. "It's good to see you, too, Anna."

Anna laughed wholeheartedly before pulling away. "I'm sorry. I just missed you both is all. It's so good to have you here, together again. Just like old times."

I forced a small smile, knowing what she meant but also feeling a pang in my heart because it wasn't completely like old times, not really. Naturally, my eyes fell to Wanda who was already looking my way, a similar expression on her face. I wondered if she was thinking the same.

"C'mon, I'll bring you to the kitchen where everybody else is," Anna said, already leading the way. "They're excited to have you over again."

"You didn't mention Wanda would be here, too," I noted as she led us through the main hall.

"Oh, didn't I?" she replied, feigning confusion. "I must have forgotten."

"Hmm." I pursed my lips, ignoring the obnoxious smile that returned to Wanda's lips as we followed Anna.

She led us to the kitchen where Sasha and her husband were preparing some food for the supposed barbecue we'd be having. I'd met her husband the last time I visited, so it was easy to get reacquainted with them both as we met them again.

After a brief catch up, Wanda and I offered to help with the food, but Sasha insisted we take a break and hang out with the twins – her kids – whilst they cooked it up outside. So, I soon found myself heading to the living room with Wanda as Anna went to fetch the twins from their bedrooms upstairs.

I wasn't exactly keen on being left alone with Wanda, so I decided not to say anything and simply keep to myself as we waited for Anna's return. Killing time, I wandered around the living room and looked at the family photos hung on the wall. It was the same as last time, except now there were a few new additions, clearly from Anna, which made me smile without thinking.

They were of Wanda, Anna and I, back when I used to care for her and we'd hang out at her apartment. Some were in the apartment itself whilst others were from places we'd visited together on different occasions. I recognised a handful of them from when Wanda and I were just friends and a few more from when we were a couple. It was clear in the photos which were which, as Wanda was holding my waist and grinning from ear to ear, myself doing the same. For a split second, I almost forgot she'd broken my heart.

"Wow, we looked really cute together, didn't we?" her stupid Sokovian accent sounded by my ear, and I lost my smile when I felt Wanda's presence stood a little too close to me.

She was looking over my shoulder at the photos on the wall and I tried not to get frustrated, but she made it impossible.

"Yeah, we were," I agreed, noticing the surprise on her face at my words, but then I continued, "until you dumped me because you were too scared to stay in a relationship."

Her smile faded at my words and I left her standing there, instead going to the couch to wait there. I wasn't sure why Anna had kept those photographs of us, but I wished she hadn't. 

After what felt like forever, Anna finally returned with her two great-grandkids in tow. Alex and Marina, both seven-years-old, grinned adorably at Wanda and I, betraying their missing teeth.

"Well, look who it is," Wanda said with a bright smile, bending over and putting her hands on her knees. "My favourite set of twins."

Despite how annoying she was, I couldn't help but smile at the way she treated kids. She was always so good with them generally, way better than I was.

"G.G. said we could play Mario Kart," Marina said behind a nervous smile, looking between us. "Can we?"

G.G. was what they called Anna – short for 'great-grandmother'. I found it cute that they accepted her into the family so easily, like no time had been missed.

"I think we can," I said with a warm smile. "But I can't promise we'll take it easy on you."

Alex fist-pumped with excitement before running to the TV to set up his Nintendo Switch. Marina, the calmer of the two, motioned for Wanda and I to take a seat on the couch with her. Anna joined us, taking her place on the recliner, and watched with amusement.

Wanda and I had never actually visited them together, so it was refreshing to see how excited they got around her. Clearly she'd made an impression last time.

"For you," Alex said politely, holding out a controller to me.

"Why thank you," I said, accepting it. "So polite."

He seemed embarrassed as he did the same with Wanda, who hadn't stopped smiling since they came in. After handing his sister a controller, he joined us on the couch, forcing everyone to move up a little and making Wanda press closer to me at the end of the seat. I gave her a knowing look to which she smiled innocently, making me roll my eyes.

"You not gonna have a go, Anna?" Wanda teased Anna as Alex began to set up the game.

"The moving cars makes my head spin," the older Sokovian woman admitted. "You guys enjoy though."

Soon enough, the first game commenced and I was surprised at how competitive I was being, adamant on at least beating Wanda if not the twins. They, of course, spent all their time playing this, so Marina won Wanda and I easily. Wanda came in fourth, I came in third and Alex came in second.

"You just got lucky," Wanda said with a shrug, glancing at me.

"If you say so," I played along, a ghost of a smile on my lips.

"I'm being Toad this time!" Marina exclaimed as Alex set up the next round.

"I'll be Princess Peach," Wanda decided nonchalantly.

"She won't help you win," I said without thinking.

"We'll see, milashka (cutie)," she responded with a playful smile.

I nudged her in the arm, signalling for her to not call me that, but she only smiled wider as she looked back to the screen.

We had a few more rounds, Wanda winning none of them and Marina winning all of them, when Alex began to complain.

"It's not fair, you have to be cheating!" he said to his sister.

"I'm just better," Marina stated casually, making me laugh.

Alex rolled his eyes before looking to Wanda. "Did you used to play this with Pietro? Did he cheat, too?"

I raised my eyebrows with surprise at the mention of Wanda's dead twin brother. I didn't think she'd tell the twins of him, but then I realised that it was only fitting to mention her twin brother to a set of twins that probably reminded her of herself.

Wanda smiled gently. "We didn't have these games as kids, Alex. But when Piet and I played other things, yes, he did cheat." 

Alex sighed, glancing at his sister with distaste before looking to me. "Did you used to play this when you were younger, Y/N?"

"Kind of... I mean, I don't have any brothers or sisters, so I used to play at my cousin's house whenever I visited," I explained. "And it wasn't a Switch. We had something called a Super Nintendo."

"Woah, you're old," Alex muttered with disbelief.

"Alex!" Anna scolded, making me laugh.

"It's okay, he's technically right," I said with a shrug.

"Milaya (sweetie), if you're old, then I'm ancient," Anna said disapprovingly.

"Right, sorry," I said, trying to stifle my smile.

We played another round and as Wanda and I were closing in on the finish line, my joystick began to veer left despite me aiming it to the right. I looked down in time to see red wisps of energy pushing it the other way.

"Yes! I won you," Wanda sang with pride, looking to me as her eyes faded from red to its hazel colour.

"You cheated," I said, eyebrows raised. "I just saw you."

"I don't know what you're talking about," she played dumb.

"Wanda," I said, giving her a knowing look. "You sure it was Pietro who used to cheat when you were kids?"

She grinned. "Very sure."

I studied her closely, entertained smile tugging at my lips. "I'm just gonna pretend I let you beat me since you won't admit it."

She shrugged, nudging me in the side gently. "Suit yourself."

"You're supposed to let your wife win anyway," Alex said naively, and I almost choked on my own spit when he did.

"What?" I spluttered out, losing my smile.

Wanda was doing her absolute best not to laugh as her eyes glanced towards me, noticing my shocked expression.  

"Your wife – Wanda?" Alex said like it was obvious. "Our dad says he lets our mum win stuff all the time. It's what you do when you're married."

"I– we–" I paused, clearing my throat and suddenly feeling very warm. "We're not married, Alex."

Alex furrowed his brows with confusion. "But G.G. said that you weren't together."

"But that doesn't mean we're married," I said slowly, hoping my face wasn't as red as it felt.

"Medovyy (honey), they're not together anymore, you're right," Anna started to correct him, though she looked like she was seconds away from laughing herself, "but I never said they were married."

Alex didn't seem to understand still. He pointed to Wanda's hands. "But she's wearing a ring."

Everyone looked down to Wanda's hands which were adorned by several rings on many of her fingers, though none were on her ring finger, so I didn't get what Alex was thinking.

"I always wear rings," Wanda told him with amusement.

"But–"

"That's her right hand, idiot," Marina said to her brother with a scoff.

"No, it's her left," he said knowingly, before raising his left hand in the air and pointing to her right hand opposite him.

Marina rolled her eyes, already fed up with her twin's antics. She stood beside him and motioned to his hands as she explained, "That's your left. It's her right. Like a reflection. It's not a wedding ring."

It took a few seconds for Alex to understand, but when he did, he began to get flustered.

"Oh," was all he said, before returning to his seat. "My bad."

Anna laughed at her great-grandson's embarrassment as I began to flush with a similar embarrassment in my seat. Meanwhile, Wanda was biting her lip to contain her own laughter, eyes teasing me as they glanced at me with amusement.

Today was definitely not going to plan.

—

After gaming with the kids for a little while longer, we were all eventually called into the garden to have lunch together. Sasha and her husband had barbecued a variety of chicken, meat and vegetables for us to eat which was delicious. It gave us the chance to hear everything Anna had been up to with her family and for her to catch up with what's going on in Wanda and I's lives.

Anna seemed a lot happier, the happiest I'd ever seen her, when she was with family. I was glad that she was fitting in and that it brought her closer to her late-husband and daughter. This was all she'd ever wanted and she'd finally gotten it. Despite tricking Wanda and I into coming, I was kind of glad to be there because even if I wouldn't admit it at the time, it was just like old times.

After having dessert and conversing for longer than we realised over some tea and coffee, Wanda and I decided it was best we leave.

"Remember to come by anytime," Anna said to us both by the front door. "You don't even have to call!"

I smiled, nodding. "Thank you, Anna. It was great to see you again. I had a lot of fun today."

"Me, too," Wanda agreed. "It's really good to see you so happy."

Anna sighed contently. "Spasibo (thank you). Both of you." Pausing with thought, her eyes flickered between us both. "I do hope that you resolve things soon. For both of your benefit."

Chewing on my lip, I chose not to say anything. Wanda seemed to feel the same, opting to stay quiet, making Anna breath out halfheartedly.

"Right, well... are you both okay getting home?" she asked, changing the subject.

After reassuring her that we were, we gave her a giant hug before bidding her a goodbye. Once the door closed, I awkwardly glanced at Wanda before heading to my car.

"Hey, is it stupid if I ask for a ride?" Wanda's voice said from behind me.

I looked over my shoulder and saw her following after me, half walking and half running to fall into step with me. I refrained from rolling my eyes as I continued walking to my car.

"Didn't you get a taxi?" was all I said.

"Yeah, but my place is on the way to yours," she answered like it was nothing, finally catching up to me and grinning by my side when we reached my car. "And you're free, so..."

I narrowed my eyes impatiently.

"I won't do or say anything to piss you off," she added, putting out her pinky. "Promise."

As frustrating as she was, I wasn't a bitch, and we'd actually kind of gotten along today. With a dramatic sigh, I stepped to the side and motioned for her to get in the car. She wiggled her pinky, but when realising I wouldn't interlink mine, she lowered it.

A genuine smile fell on her lips as she nodded. "Thank you."

I simply returned the nod before getting into the driver's seat as she did with the passenger's seat. I put Wanda's address in the sat nav before setting off, trying not to overthink the silence that filled the car. Obviously, that was impossible, so I gripped the steering wheel tighter and glanced at Wanda.

"You can put the radio on if you want," I said uncomfortably, shifting around in my seat.

She tensed her jaw, looking (oddly enough) as uncomfortable as I felt, which was strange since she was content annoying me earlier. With a nod, she turned the radio on and some random pop music played quietly in the background, easing my nerves but not making anything more tolerable. It took about ten minutes for me to adjust to the silence when I finally got comfortable, focusing on driving and getting to Wanda's flat quickly.

Without warning, Wanda began to speak in Russian, but it was way too fast and incomprehensible so I had no idea what she was saying.

"Wanda, slow down, what are you talking about?" I asked, trying to cut her off, but she continued to ramble right over me, making me roll my eyes. "Wanda, I don't understand you!"

When I looked to her between driving, she seemed extremely passionate and stern about whatever she was saying. I wished I understood because whatever it was seemed to be eating away at her. I tried to ask her to slow down, speak English, do something to help me out, but she was stuck in tunnel vision, speaking quickly and with sadness.

After what felt like forever but was probably only a minute, she stopped talking and took a deep breath. I furrowed my eyebrows judgementally, eyeing her with confusion.

"The hell was that?!" I asked with surprise.

She didn't reply, making me curse under my breath. At the next red traffic light, I looked to her properly, noticing the distracted stare she directed my way.

"Wanda, what was that?" I repeated, raising an eyebrow.

She pressed her lips together, hazel eyes swirling with a mixture of emotions that I couldn't make out. I thought she'd answer me, but she still stayed silent.

"Seriously, Wanda, what?"

The traffic light began to go orange and I sighed with annoyance, figuring she'd lost her marbles. But then she finally spoke, my attention half on her and half on the road.

"Ya skuchayu po tebe (I miss you)," she said softly, without mischief or annoyance or anger or anything. Just sincerity.

She looked away after that, eyes drifting to her shoes, probably thinking I didn't understand. But I did and I knew it shouldn't have affected me as much as it did, but I felt my heart ache in my chest as I put my foot on the gas to make the green light.

When I finally reached her apartment building, I waited for her to say something, but she looked as lost in her thoughts than I did whilst driving.

"Wanda," I called quietly, getting her attention.

She blinked, realising we were at her place. Clearing her throat, she barely looked my way as she mumbled, "Thanks for the ride."

As she opened the car door and got out, beginning to walk to her building, I rolled down the passenger's window and called her name. She stopped, looking over to me with a raised brow.

My mouth felt dry as I said, "I know what 'I miss you' is in Russian." Her eyes widened, embarrassed that she'd been caught, and I continued, "You don't get to miss me."

It was harsh, but it was the truth. And I didn't wait to hear her come up with a response as I rolled my window up and set off again. She couldn't act like that when it was her fault we broke up. It wasn't fair on either of us.

[ofrunsfromtrauma]

A nightmare; it’s what the last few days were. I was attacked in my own home; the memories heavily on my mind. Which is why a part of me was lucky that I was stuck in a hospital bed the last few nights. Because honestly I couldn’t stomach the thought of being in that house. Alone unless Sam decided to stick around. The attack brought her back into my life; but for how long? Once the murders disappeared would she disappear to? She was my lifeline, she was my family. Our mother; wasn’t keen on the idea that Sam was here; and once she heard word that the attacks were linked to the woodsboro murders years ago when Sam’s father was the masked murder I knew my mother would ban me from seeing my sister. But I saw the remorse, the fear in Sam; she ran to protect me. To protect herself from admitting who her dad was. Except as upset as I had been. I wasn’t mad at her; I was scared that the murders were take our last breath; like it had done to Dewey. A old sheriff that wanted to help; I only survived the attack in the hospital because Dewey had stood in front of us to let us escape. 

I felt the guilt, why did I have 9 lives and this sheriff had to sacrifice himself? The fear the nightmare didn’t stop at the hospital. It followed us; a trap over to the the house when the first killing spree occurred, the house where Billy and Stu took innocent lives, where the nightmare was formed. I had this dread in the pit of my stomach; I felt like I was losing the lack to breathe and that’s why we were there. Why I almost died for the tenth time in days. Why Sam was forced to stab Richie someone who apparently used her; the guy who had been at my side with Sam for days; He was a killer; the killer but that’s not the ghostface that stung. It was finding out my best friend; the girl I would cry on her shoulder; who knew everything about me her betrayal. Amber was the killer too; it stung and I did all my strength to keep it together when I held that gun; the trigger aimed for her head except when push came to shove I couldn’t. 

Killing Amber meant everything was a lie; our friendship. She’s who picked up the pieces when Sam left; she’d the one that soothed down my hair when I had cried on her lap. We had so many memories and I knew it was foolish she was a murder; I shouldn’t of shown her mercy, I knew it was mercy because when Samantha’s stabs didn’t do the trick; I shot Richie in cold blood to save my sister. Byt the nights end; Amber and Richie were dead; in the helping hand of Gale and Sidney who looked like naturals now. I was barely holding it together; with my wobbly body on crunches, I felt the comfort of Sam and Mindy as they helped me outside. That’s where we found Chad on a gurney he had been stabbed maliciously too many times; and he still wore that cocky grin on his face. It was kinda annoying; Mindy had parted from us; to be there for her brother hoping into his ambulance. Sitting at the edge of one of the cars; I felt Sam’s arm nudge my own. “ No more scary movies” Nodding in agreement; The paramedic had placed a oxygen mask over my face; to help me breathe. 

The next few days felt like a blur to me. Between the nurses that kept coming in and out of my room to check on my opened wounds; on my stats to ensure I was recovering. Sam had barely left my side; I think she felt guilty but so did I. I let Amber in; and in the end she’d been using me. I was scared to leave; but when Sam had left the room to go get an update from Mindy; the nurse had let me into a wheelchair; today I’d be getting released, no blood clots; no injury that couldn’t be treated at home. She helped me into the chair. Placing hands on the handles as I relaxed, I wanted to go see Chad; he wouldn’t judge how I felt; and I guess I wanted to see the superhero himself. Glancing at the nurse I asked sweetly. “ Can you bring me to Chad’s room?” She had that look that said I don’t know; but I wore those puppy eyes that said please I almost died again. I think she assumed I was seeing Chad intimately because she wore that smitten expression as she nodded and we moved out of my room. The halls were busy passing loads of people. Until we inched to his doorway, hands moved to the wheels to help roll myself inside. He had his eyes closed; but with the rapid raising and falling of his chest I could tell Chad was awake. 

“ How’s our own superhero doing..” Amusement in my voice as I edged myself closer to his bed. 

@ofrunsfromtrauma

[The return of Ghost Face... What the hell?! How many Ghost Face posers was this now? Eight? Ten? Fuck this Ghost Face shit. Honestly, I had lost count, at this point in time, but regardless, I was beyond tired of this bullshit. It was old and overdone. Been there, done that. Time to move the fuck on. I thought in building anger as I laid on the ground outside of Amber's house; feeling a coldness moving through my body as the blood continued to drain from my wounds. For my part, I wasn't a pussy, nor was I quitter, so I did try to move from the ground to get myself some help. Hell, for that matter, to help my sister and friends, who I assumed were still inside dealing with this psychotic fucker terrorizing all of us. Considering the asshole had stabbed me in the leg to start their attack on me, apparently hitting an artery in my leg as they did, considering the blood was pooling out of me like a fucking fountain, as we speak, I couldn't walk. Not to mention I had also been repeatedly stabbed in my side, my stomach, my arm, and God only knows where else too. My point was, the loss of blood was making it near impossible for me to move from this ground. For a hot second, I wondered if I was going to die right here, but I quickly pushed that pussy mindset to the back of my mind; refusing to give in so easily. Hell no! The fuck if I was going to die here in the grass like some wounded animal] Fuck that... [I muttered out in weak determination as I used every bit of strength I could muster up to crawl across the ground toward some ounce of civilization. Fortunately, I managed to find my phone on the ground where I had tossed it just before the first... Or maybe the second... Eh, third stabbing... Regardless, I found my phone, which was the point. I fussed with the keys enough to dial 911. The call was short, but it was enough to alert the 911 operator of the murders here at...] What the fuck is the address? [I muttered out weakly. More so to myself before managing to weakly blurt out] I don't fucking know. Turner Lane... Big house. Stop when you see the party turned blood bath. [I got out before the loss of blood got the better of me, and I dropped my phone onto the ground, before passing out. Apparently it was enough... Or maybe it wasn't and somebody else called about the live action scene from some Nightmare On Elm Street type movie, or whatever. Either way, sirens alerted me that help was on the way. I just hoped I could hang on long enough for someone to find me in this damn grass. I thought as I found my eyes closing once more...

I didn't know how much time was passing before I felt the sensation of throbbing pain moving through my body again as the EMTs packed my knife wounds, then moved me from the ground, onto a gurney, and ultimately into the back of an ambo. As I did, I caught a brief glimpse of my sister, Tara, and Sam grouped at the back of another ambulance. Relieved to know they were alive. As far as anyone else who lived or died, or for that matter, who the fucktard was playing the overly done Ghost Face part this time around, I'd just have to wait until I was conscious again to have someone fill me in on the parts and pieces I missed while I laid in the ground bleeding like some chump. I silently told myself as my eyes closed once more; lulled off to sleep as the ambo doors closed, a siren rang out around me, and I knew I was on route to the hospital]

[stargazer-sims]

Journal Entry #46 (part one)

previously - Journal Entry #45

Yuri

Victor came home on Thursday afternoon.

In a plot twist that I should've seen coming, I was left to cope with Victor's hospital discharge alone. My father, who'd insisted on staying with me since the previous Friday night, suddenly declared on Thursday morning at breakfast that he was going back to his house.

For all his talk about how important I am to him and how he felt uncomfortable with me being by myself, I saw that I was once again lower than everybody else on his list of priorities. Even Koichi, his personal assistant and Yuki's de facto babysitter, apparently rates higher than me. It was a call from Koichi that sent him scurrying back down to the valley. I don't know what it was about, but whatever it was, it obviously rated higher than me and Victor. It was probably some business emergency, because clearly the threat of losing money is always more urgent than consistently supporting his son.

As angry as I was about him leaving at the precise moment I needed him most, that wasn't my only emotion. There was some measure of relief mixed in with my anger, as contradictory as that sounds. Our week together had been tense. It was as if we'd been performing some sort of complex dance on a floor made of glass. One misstep by either of us, and the whole fragile foundation would shatter and damage us both.

I don't know if I could've handled more of that and the stress of caring for Victor too. Besides, Victor would never have tolerated Papa's presence, and perhaps he knew that as well. Maybe his abrupt exit was for the best, notwithstanding how confusing and hurtful it felt to me.

I hate that my relationship with my father is so fraught. I wish we could be more like my friends and their parents. Takahiro can go to his father and mother about anything without worrying about being criticized or judged. Seiji is so close with his parents that all three of them cried when he moved out to a house less than a kilometer away, and Mr. Hinamori kept saying how proud he was of Seiji's newfound independence. My father, in contrast, tried to stop me from moving out by telling me I was too weak and frail to live alone, but then didn't even help me put my suitcases in my car on the day I left. Recently, he barely batted an eyelash when I told him I'm considering immigrating to Canada.

Honestly, I don't know what to think. Most of what Papa does for me, when he does anything at all, seems to be performative, like he's doing it because he's my father and certain things are expected. But then, there are times when I almost believe his concern is real, like last Friday night when he came back to the hospital to check on Victor and me and offered to drive me home. I'll probably never discover the truth, though. I've already resigned myself to that.

But, I was telling you about Victor, wasn't I?

Unfortunately, I'd been living under the false expectation that once Victor was home again, everything would somehow be okay. I thought maybe, once he was in a familiar place, he'd be less depressed and scared, and he'd start to feel more confident about trying to do a few small things for himself. At the very least, I'd hoped that he would be able to walk from the sitting room to the bathroom by himself, even if he did need my help while he was in there.

Needless to tell you, every assumption I made was wrong.

I had absolutely no clue how dependent Victor would be, and how difficult and exhausting it would be to have him home. Don't get me wrong; I'm glad he's out of the hospital, but I was utterly unprepared for it. It's only Saturday, and our current reality is already starting to take a toll on me. Fortunately, Dr. Grace and Dr. Julian are here to help us now, but that's a whole story on its own, and I'll come back to it later.

As Dr. Sato had foreshadowed earlier in the week, she sent Victor home in a wheelchair. After a round of neurological, orthopaedic and motor function tests that took up a good chunk of the day on Wednesday, all the doctors and technicians agreed that there was no physical reason why he shouldn't be able to walk. It was the psychologist that assessed him on Thursday morning who officially reported what I, and probably everybody else, had known since Sunday. The problem is in his head, but in a part of his brain that the doctors couldn't see with their various scans. The issue is a purely conceptual one. In short, Victor can't walk because he's convinced himself that he can't.

I'll admit, I hadn't been thrilled about the wheelchair when Dr. Sato first mentioned it. For his part, Victor hadn't seemed to care one way or the other, and barely reacted when I rolled him out of the hospital in it.

We must've been a sight, making our way across the hospital parking lot with Victor slumped in his wheelchair and huddled in a blanket like a disaster survivor, and me struggling with the unfamiliar task of pushing him. He'd outright refused to wear his competition jacket, and I hadn't brought another coat for him since I incorrectly guessed he'd wear the one he already had with him. It was a bitterly cold day and I couldn't take him outside without something to protect him from the elements, so I'd had to go out to the car and collect the big red fleece blanket we usually keep in the back seat to wrap him in. The end result was that it looked like I was kidnapping a homeless person. It was something Victor and I might normally have laughed about, but at that moment, nobody was in the mood for laughing.

Despite my initial misgivings about the wheelchair, I'm grateful for it now. I'd never be able to get Victor from one room to another without it.

We were limited to the downstairs portion of the house for the remainder of Thursday and all of yesterday. The wheelchair was of no use on the stairs, and I realized fairly quickly that I lacked both the skill and the physical strength to help Victor up to his bedroom, so he spent Thursday night on one of the sofas in the sitting room. I occupied the other one. I would've liked to be in my bed, but I decided I'd better stay close to Victor, in case he needed anything in the night.

As it turned out, my instincts were good. He needed quite a lot during the night, and neither one of us got much sleep because of it.

One of the side effects of the pain medication Dr. Sato prescribed for him is abdominal discomfort and nausea, and that was the main reason our rest was interrupted. He had almost nothing in his stomach due to his continued refusal to eat, but that didn't prevent him from repeatedly heaving into the bin I'd brought down from the upstairs bathroom as if there actually was something his body needed to expel. I'm sure you can imagine how much pain that caused him, especially with his cracked rib, and it led to bouts of heart-wrenching tears which I felt inadequate to soothe, although I tried my best.

The thing with many painkillers is that they don't eliminate the most severe pain. They dull it enough to make you reasonably comfortable and more or less functional, presuming you don't do anything to exacerbate it in the meantime. Something like throwing up multiple times when you have a rib fracture, for example.

The cruel irony of the situation, I knew, was that Victor wouldn't have been so sick if only he would eat. I had that same pain medication once, and my stomach had been so upset that I thought the meds were making the symptoms of my illness worse instead of better, until Victor read the instruction sheet that came with them and pointed out to me that they were supposed to be taken with food. After much comforting and coaxing, he got me to eat a bowl of yogurt and fruit half an hour or so before my next dose, and the difference it made was remarkable.

I was sure Victor must've been starving, but no amount of pleading seemed sufficient to persuade him to eat, Normally, he loves food and eats enough to make my belly sore just watching him, but the most I could get him to consume on Thursday was half of a cut-up apple and a few spoonfuls of sweet rice.

He didn't want me to feed him and he said he couldn't manage it by himself, and at that point we didn't have any other options. I was desperately afraid he'd become dehydrated, which would've opened up a whole new set of problems, but luckily he's able and willing to hold his water bottle between both hands, so at least he can drink on his own.

Around two in the morning, he finally fell asleep, only to wake up again about an hour later, literally screaming. I have to tell you, I've never heard a sound like that come out of a human in real life before. It was like something you might expect in a horror movie. I think I'd been on the threshold of drifting off, but all traces of sleep instantly vanished when I heard Victor making that noise.

I nearly tumbled onto the floor in my haste to get to him. He'd turned over in his sleep so he was facing the back of the sofa, and he was thrashing against it with his left hand and arm with enough force that I was certain he'd get injured even more seriously than he already was.

I didn't know what to do. I didn't want to touch him, in case he accidentally struck me with his flailing arm, but I didn't not want to touch him either. I needed to find out what was wrong, and help him if I could, or get help if I couldn't.

"Victor!" I exclaimed, too frightened and breathless to get out much of anything else.

"Get it off me!" His voice sounded even more strained and terrified than mine. "I can't move!"

I said his name again, perhaps a little louder and more urgently. Swallowing my fear, I caught him by the shoulder and used all my strength to pull him toward me. I succeeded in rolling him over, and he flopped onto his back with an inarticulate sound of distress. His eyes were wild, and he was gasping so hard that I was worried he might stop breathing.

"Victor, what's wrong?" I cried, too overwhelmed to be calm. "What can I do?"

He didn't answer straight away, which in hindsight is unsurprising. It took him several seconds to get his breathing under control enough to speak.

When he finally recovered his voice, he said shakily. "I... I lost control on a turn."

"I know," I said. "Were you dreaming about that?"

"Y-yeah." He gulped air. "Did I wake you?"

"No," I assured him, not exactly glad he'd been having a nightmare, but infinitely grateful it wasn't something more serious. "I was still awake. It's all right."

"It felt real, like it was happening again."

"You're safe now," I said, as I knelt beside the sofa. "Are you okay? Is there anything you need?"

"Just stay here."

"I'm not going anywhere."

"Okay," he said. He lay there for several seconds with his eyes closed, breathing slowly and deliberately. When he finally opened his eyes and turned his head toward me, his expression looked calmer but his eyes were no less haunted. "I flipped over. I don't know how many times. Then I knew I was gonna crash into the gate and there was nothing I could do. I didn't mean to put my arms out, but I panicked."

"It must've happened fast," I said. "You wouldn't have had much time to react."

"Everything went black," he whispered. "I thought I was yelling, but I couldn't hear myself."

"Takeshi said you were yelling in the first few seconds after it happened," I confirmed. "He said you lost consciousness almost immediately after that, though."

"When I woke up, I realized I was tied down and I was in the ambulance with Takeshi and some woman, and I couldn't move," he said. "I know they had to, 'cause they didn’t want me to fall off, but I didn't like it.”

“Off the rescue board, you mean?”

“I didn't remember any of this stuff before, but now I do," he said. "I wanted to tell Takeshi I didn't like it. I couldn't move, and I thought I was paralyzed, and I kept trying to tell Takeshi I couldn't see, but... but I couldn't make any words come out, and..." He raised a hand in what I guessed was an attempt to cover his face, and let out a little sob when his cast came in contact with his skin. "I hate this. I wish I still didn't remember."

"I'm sorry," I said, because I was at a complete loss as to how else I should respond.

"I just want to go to sleep and not dream about anything," he said. "I want to go to sleep and... that's it. Not dream, and maybe not even wake up ever again, 'cause this is a nightmare too."

"Please don't say that,” I said.

“Why? It’s how I feel. It is a nightmare. I don’t want to live like this.”

"You're not going to have casts on your arms forever."

"I'm not talking about my arms," he said.

"I don't know what I'd do without you. What would I do if you went to sleep and never woke up?"

"You wouldn't have to deal with me any more.”

I bit my lip, mostly in an effort to distract myself from the ache in the center of my chest. Hearing him talk like that was painful, not just because a future without him would be devastating to me, but because I couldn’t bear the thought of him believing his life was suddenly worth nothing and that I’d be better off without him.

“I don’t want you to go to sleep and never wake up,” I told him.

His reply was, “I don’t want you to suffer because of me.”

I reached out to touch his fingers, but he whimpered and jerked his arm away from mine. I wasn’t sure if I’d hurt him, or if he simply couldn’t handle the physical contact.

Lowering my hand to my lap, I sighed. "How can I make you understand? None of this is easy or fun for me, but I promised I'd be with you for better or worse, and I don't intend to break that promise. Maybe that means I’m going to suffer a bit, but I’m not about to walk away just because things aren’t the way they used to be.”

“Maybe you should.”

“I won’t,” I said.

"I don't want you to take care of me.”

"I know you don't," I acknowledged. "But, you haven't got much choice until your mother and stepfather get here, have you?"

It was his turn to sigh. "I guess not."

"What I need to understand is why you don't want me to help you," I said. "What can your mother do for you that I can't?"

I don't know what I expected, but his next words weren't it. He began to cry, and told me, "I've already complicated your life enough because I’m stupid. I don't want to make it worse."

"You’re not stupid.”

"All of this… It's my fault."

"I've told you a dozen times already, it's not your fault,” I said. “If anybody should take the blame, it's me. If I'd been there—”

"It would've been the same thing," he said. "If you were there, you would've been thinking about your job the whole time, so it wouldn't have mattered. It's my own fault because I was angry and upset, and I knew it was making me too unfocused to compete, but I did it anyway."

"You wouldn't have been so upset if it weren't for me."

"Maybe not, but if I wasn't so dumb and immature, maybe I would’ve just gotten over it instead of sulking about it. Or maybe I would've backed out of the competition. But I stayed in it because I wanted to prove I could do it, with or without you there. I know it makes no sense, but I wanted you to be proud of me if I won, and at the same time I wanted you to be sorry you missed it."

"I am sorry I wasn't there," I said. "And I'm always proud of you, regardless of whether you win snowboarding competitions or not."

"None of it matters now, anyway," he said.

"Of course it does. I still love you and I'm still proud of you."

"For what? I'm never going to compete again. I can't travel or go to university or do any of the other stuff I was gonna do, and I can't look after you the way you need me to. My whole future... my whole life is just... gone."

"Not your whole life," I said. "You still have me."

"But, why?" he asked. "I'm no use to you like this."

"Do you think you have to be useful for me to love you? Do you think I'm only with you for what I can get out of it? If that's what you think, then maybe you are stupid after all.”

I regretted that last sentence the second it eft my mouth. Tiredness and frustration had erased all my filters, and without pause for consideration, I'd given voice to exactly what had been in my mind.

I don't actually think Victor is stupid, but I can't deny that I was starting to wonder what was going through his head. It was as if he was still questioning my love and devotion, and if anything he'd said or done over the past week hurt me, that certainly did.

The effect of what I'd said was to make Victor cry even harder than he already had been doing. "I'm sorry," he said, his words barely audible through his tears. "I... I don't think that. It's just... I promised I'd always protect you, and... and now I'm failing at it."

"Yes, you are right now," I agreed, "but not in the way you think you are."

"What?" He sniffled loudly, and he looked as if he was about to swipe his hand across his face, but only stopped himself at the last moment. With a grunt of frustration, he observed. "I have to wipe my damn nose, and I can't."

"Let me help you with that," I said.

He made an unhappy noise, but didn't protest any more strenuously. "Okay."

It took some effort to sit him up, but once he was upright, I fetched the box of tissues from the table and used a few to dry his eyes and wipe his face. Holding a few more under his nostrils, I gently encouraged him to blow his nose, just like I'd seen my mother do with Yuki when she was a toddler. I was a mildly shocked when he actually did it, and even more so that I didn’t flinch at the warm dampness that leaked over the edge of the tissue and onto my fingers.

I could hardly believe I was doing such a thing and wasn't even put off by it. Under normal circumstances, I'd find anything to do with bodily functions disgusting, but miraculously, I was managing intimate tasks like face wiping, nose blowing and bathroom assistance with only minimal squeamishness. I've astounded myself by discovering this hidden ability, honestly.

Once Victor was sufficiently tidied up and I’d thoroughly washed my hands at the kitchen sink, I came back to the sitting room and climbed onto the sofa with him. He didn't exactly crawl onto my lap, but I helped him arrange his limbs so that his legs formed a bridge across mine and his arms were tucked against my chest. He was curled up enough that he was able to rest his head on my shoulder. I reached up to pet his hair.

"Comfortable?" I asked, although in that position, I couldn’t imagine he was.

"As I can be," he said. "What'd you mean before?"

"You said you're failing at protecting me," I said.

"Yeah."

"And you think that means...?"

"You know. Taking care of you. Making sure you're happy and safe, and that you have everything you need. Making sure you don't get hurt."

"And you have to be strong and tough to do all that, right?" I said. "Not show any signs of weakness?"

"Yeah," he said.

"What if I told you that trying to prove how strong you are is actually hurting me more than helping me?"

He sounded perplexed. "How?"

"Remember when we were staying at the hotel in Kyoto? I told you then that I wanted to take care of you the way you take care of me," I said. "I didn't necessarily mean like this, although this is part of it too. The main goal was to stop making everything about me, and consider your needs more, All your needs, not just physical things. And you said you liked the sound of that, remember?"

"It sounded good, but I didn't think you meant it," he admitted. "Not that you were lying to me or something, but like, how can you not make it all about you when you just... need so much?"

"Relationships aren't supposed to be one-sided, Victor. I think we should both understand that by now, don't you? Just because it looks like I need a lot, that doesn't mean you don't need anything or that I’m incapable of giving you what you need.”

"It didn't bother me that much," he said. "I didn't really mind if it was all about you."

"But, it can't be all about me. That's the point I'm trying to make. It's not fair, and it's not practical, particularly right now."

"I guess."

"You might have thought I didn't mean it, but I did," I said. "I do, and you know, the fact that you don't seem to trust me to take care of you really hurts."

"I trust you," he insisted, although his tone seemed to lack conviction.

"Do you?" I countered. "Because that's not what it looks like from where I'm sitting. Did you ever consider that I need to feel like an equal partner in this relationship? I love how much energy you put into looking after me, but what I don't love is being shut down when I try to give even a tiny bit of nurturing back to you. If you're failing me in any way, it's that."

He was silent for a while, but then he said quietly, "I'm sorry."

"Let me take care of you," I said.

"But, you can't—" he began

"I want to, and I certainly can. Let me have the chance to prove it."

There was another, longer stretch of silence, and then a pitiful, "It's hard."

He didn't elaborate, but I understood. It's hard not being the strong one. It's hard to switch roles in a relationship. It's hard to give up control.

"I know, love," I said. "I know it's hard for you, but I think we'd both feel better if you tried."

[juminsmysticmc]

Hii☺️So, we have RFA+Minor trio being single fathers after Mc's death, what about reversing it?So that Mc is a single mother after they died(

I waited really long to finally make a request and I am very excited right now, especially since it's you.I really love your writings and I read all of them for like a dozen of times and I can't get enough of them😍Thank you so much for your work and stay healthy 🙏🏻

Mc being a single mom after the RFA + Minor Trio died    ( Trigger Warnings! ) 

Trigger Warnings, mention of death, parental death

RFA + Minor Trio as single fathers after Mc’s death (Parental death/ Trigger Warnings)

Did I mention that I like drama? Enjoy! 

Jumin

You pressed your lips together as tears went down your cheek. The baby you just gave birth to was sleeping in Jaehee‘s arms as you sobbed into Zen‘s embrace.

,,It‘s as if he planned everything,“ you sobbed, making your red haired friend shake with his head.

,,When he found out you were pregnant, he made me do all this. He didn’t plan to die a month after the birth of your baby, really, he just feared that if something happened to him, his father would have acted the way he did,“ Seven explained.

The reason why you were currently staying over at Jaehee‘s place was that Jumin died a week ago. One day you let him go out of the front door, still smiling as he kissed your newborn, and not even half an hour later, you found yourself in the hospital.

Someone shot him.

And as if it wasn’t enough, your father in law tried to take away your baby, saying that he had to give his grandchild a better life.

But Jumin, even in heaven, saved you once again, saving a lot of money and having an external saving method thanks to Seven.

He even left behind a letter to his father filled with lies, explaining that the baby wasn’t his child.

Of course everything was a lie, but this lie made it possible for you to see your baby grow up.

,,I can’t even go to my husband’s-” your words died in tears.

,,He will always look over you, Mc, and we’ll help you. It will all be better soon…“ Zen patted your back. He too was mourning for his friend.

Zen

,,Mommy, do I really look like daddy?“ your youngest girl asked you as she brushed her long white hair.

You gulped as you looked over to your oldest daughter.

Her eyes were again filled with tears.

Zen died two years ago, leaving you behind with three wonderful children.

You had to give up your job as manager and instead began to work part time in a restaurant at night and other little jobs while the girls were at school.

,,Daddy… I don‘t even remember him,“ your middle child hissed as she entered the room.

,,I don’t even know him, that’s worse!“ your youngest began to sob.

She indeed looked like Zen. He would have been proud to see her beauty.

Well, he was proud of every daughter he had. He loved them with all his heart.

,,Trust me, I would rather not remember him than live with memories,“ your oldest daughter Mina hissed as she put down her lipstick and rushed out.

You sighed as you looked at your little family.

You were all sleeping in one single room. No one had their own space and instead they all argued with each other whenever they had the chance.

,,You’re always so negative, MINA!“ your middle child Hana hissed, followed by the youngest, Sera.

,,I HATE YOU GUYS! HE DIED BECAUSE OF YOU!“ she screamed, making your heart stop.

Mina glared at her and fell on her feet as she began to scream a loud, high pitched scream.

,,SERA RYU!“ you screamed.

The house died down as only sniffles were heard.

,,Your father died when the three of you caught a virus. He was trying to go to the shop for some medicine, but that doesn’t mean that one of you is at fault, understand?“ you hissed.

You sat down and began to cry yourself as you called them over into your arms, ready to embrace your crying children.

,,No one is at fault. Please, please don’t fight, girls, your father would be devastated to see that,“ you begged.

,,Sera, you do look like dad,“ Mina sobbed and smiled, making your youngest smile brightly.

Yoosung

Your son finally fell asleep after a long crying session.

Nothing hurt you more than consoling your son who was in deep pain because he got bullied at school for not having a father.

Yoosung died six months ago, making you move into a tinier apartment which led to your son attending another school.

However, you regretted every single decision.

You pulled your phone out as you tried to dry your salty tears.

You entered a new chatroom as you asked for help.

,,What happened? Shall I come over?“ Jumin responded, being the first one online.

,,I can come quicker, I‘m omw,“ Zen shortly afterwards responded.

,,No no, I just…

Can you please bring Jinyoung to school tomorrow? He got bullied… I think if other children see him with you guys, they will respect him more,“ you wrote.

Of course Seven jumped in and wrote six lines about how happy he would be to play ⅓ of a father, making you actually choke on your tears.

,,Thank you,“ you typed and decided to bring your son to bed.

Indeed the three boys kept their promise, making him laugh like never before.

Jaehee

,,And that‘s how we met,“ you laughed as you told your son about the meeting between you and Jaehee.

He nodded as he looked at the picture over the table.

It portrayed you, him, and Jaehee on his first day of school.

Jaehee died a year ago from an illness.

It all went so quickly. One day she got diagnosed and a few months later the two of you prepared the funeral for her.

As if it was yesterday, you remembered picking up your son and driving him to the hospital to give Jaehee the chance to see him one last time.

And indeed, it was their last goodbyes.

Jaehee would never see him finishing school, university, or begin a job, fall in love, or try to cheer him up while being lovesick.

She would never see him get married or have his first child.

It hurt your heart to know that you were the only one left for him.

On the other side, Jaehee was happy that at least he had you. ,,How did your favorite TikTok go?“ she groaned.

,,Take him to the moon for me,“ she whispered.

,,Mom was a strong woman,“ you told your son as a tear left your eye.

,,You too, Mommy, you too.“

Saeyoung 

You sighed as you turned off your alarm to get off the bed.

It was still dark outside, but you had to wake up with the last strength you had. You pulled yourself together and walked back to the kitchen where you prepared some breakfast for your child.

Like every morning, reality hit you as you silently sobbed while putting some rice into the bento box.

Your hands trembled as you looked up, just to gasp for air and keep going.

It was hard ever since Saeyoung died. Things weren’t going well for you.

You thanked God daily for the remaining person you had, that you had friends and family who supported you.

But you also begged God to make this bad life end. Even though it was selfish, you just wanted to see your family again.

Even if Jaehee often tried to make you understand how lucky you were, even at the times where Jumin promised to help you with the medical expenses, even at those times when Yoosung came over to cook dinner, and even at those times when Zen promised to go with your and your child to the park, you just wanted this to end.

You inhaled again and dried your tears as you made yourself a cup of coffee.

,,Good morning, baby,’’ you whispered as you turned on the lights of your son’s room.

,,Mo….m,’’ the boy groaned, probably in pain as you helped him get up to sit on his wheelchair.

,,Wet…’’ he gasped as you noticed that he wet his bed again.

,,It’s okay, baby, don’t worry,’’ you smiled, pushing the chair through the door, passing at the picture of Saeyoung, Saeran, and your two perfectly healthy children.

That day, Saeyoung didn’t just die in a car accident from speeding, he also took his brother and one of your children with him, leaving you with your second son disabled by the accident.

,,It’s okay,’’ you whispered.

Saeran

You looked up to the ceiling as you felt a warm, little hand on your chest.

Turning your head, you could see how relaxed the face of your daughter was as she slept safely and soundly, not worrying about anything or anyone.

You smiled as you saw how much she resembled Saeran, her father.

Your hand moved to stroke her head as you remembered the day you told him that you were pregnant, how he cared for you and his daughter in the pregnancy, how hard labor was, and how emotional it was when he once again decided to save his brother after seeing his own daughter.

,,He would be happy to see her,’’ he said after she was newly born and he was finally allowed to hold her in his embrace.

As if it was yesterday, you remembered how he taught her to walk, how he stood behind her while going to the park and how much he loved to feed her.

This all disappeared one day.

In the morning, he told you that he might have found Saeyoung and in the evening he came home, beaten up with a shotgun wound, collapsing in front of your porch.

It was your worst nightmare and you were honestly happy that this all happened at night, knowing that back then, your three year old daughter wouldn’t have seen anything.

Ever since then, life became harder.

You moved, fearing the Prime Minister or the agency Saeyoung was in would track you down and kill your daughter. The RFA kept helping you guys, but questions like, ,,Where is Dada’’ weren’t always easy to respond to.

,,Mommy,’’ she mumbled and opened her eyes, smiling brightly at you and rubbing her eyes to wake up.

,,Mhhh?’’ you asked her.

,,Daddy visited my dreams…’’ she giggled and fell asleep again, making you wander back to old memories too.

Jihyun

,,Mom, I don’t understand my homework,’’ Lucy said, whispering as she entered the room as quietly as possible.

You looked back to her and nodded as you looked back to the little bed your son was in before you walked away, your hand on Lucy’s hair as you smiled at her.

,,What topic?’’ you asked her.

You noticed that she was hesitating so it was probably art since it was related to her father.

,,Art?’’ you asked her to make it easier for her. She had a pretty hard time ever since Jihyun died, well, you too. You all had a pretty hard time.

Jumin wasn’t the same person anymore, or so Jaehee said. Yoosung seemed to regret a few things, and Saeran and Saeyoung were grieving, just like Zen.

Everyone was in pain after the painful death of that one special person.

,,Our teacher told us to draw a painful happy moment but… how am I supposed to make something happy if it’s supposed to be painful?’’ she asked you.

You nodded. ,,Well, describe something painful. What is painful?’’ you asked her.

,,Getting hurt is painful, falling is painful, getting hit is painful…’’

,,How about losing someone?’’ you asked her, making her think about it for a few seconds before she asked you if it wasn’t something sad instead of painful. 

You nodded. ,,When I told you that daddy wouldn’t come home anymore back then when you were younger, do you remember how you felt?’’ you asked her.

,,Did your heart hurt? Did you feel scared and suffocated? Wasn’t it painful?’’ you asked her and even though you could see that she was tearing up, you knew that this was something the two of you had to talk about.

Indeed, Lucy closed up about her feelings ever since then, but this was also a good opportunity.

,,Now, think of a happy moment with your father. Isn’t it something painful but a happy moment as well?’’ you asked her and got up, knowing that she knew what to do.

A week later, you were invited to see your daughter receive a prize for the most beautiful portrait of Jihyun as an angel looking down at the world, a painful and happy moment for everyone who knew him.

Vanderwood

,,Mommy,’’ your son asked you, pulling at your shirt as you stood in front of the stove.

,,Mhhh?’’ you asked him without looking as you were cooking.

,,Why did Daddy leave us?’’ he asked you out of the blue, making you stop everything and look at him.

,,The fish is burning,’’ he suddenly said as he saw the flames, making you shriek and quickly take care of everything.

After everything was taken care of, you took him in your arms and showed him a few pictures of his father.

For now, you never showed him his father. You never dared to speak about Vanderwood, fearing that your son wouldn’t understand your words, but by now you learned that he was much stronger than you ever thought.

,,This is your father, Vanderwood. He didn’t leave because he wanted to, he was kind of forced to,’’ you told him, gulping down the bad feeling you had as your heart began to beat quickly.

,,And why is he gone?’’ he asked you, softly touching the picture of a cool looking brown haired man.

This was on the day you two went to eat after you craved a salad and ice cream.

,,He had an important job to do,’’ you explained. Of course you didn’t tell him that the agency tracked him down and killed him brutally while he tried to keep you, his heavily pregnant, hidden.

,,And what is he doing now?’’ he kept asking you as you remembered the day, as if it was yesterday, when he pushed you into the closet, begging you to close your ears and never come out until called you.

However, that call never came. Instead, Saeyoung pulled you out moments later. You didn’t remember how much time passed.

You just knew that he asked you to keep your eyes closed as he led the way out of the room.

,,He is now protecting you, me, uncle Saeyoung, uncle Saeran, uncle Jumin, uncle Zen, uncle Yoosung and aunt Jaehee,’’ you answered with a smile.

How much he would have loved to meet his son, you were sure.

He was your happiness after all, the last memento of Vanderwood.

MASTERLIST 1

MASTERLIST 2

MASTERLIST 3

26.07.2021// 00:13 MEST

[beauvibaby]

there won’t be anyone else — t.seguin

a/n: obviously my timeline isn’t going to be accurate, and I know he went back to Canada for a large portion of his recovery but this is what worked… should I do a part 2???

Part two here!

summary: tyler asks his best friend to stay with him and his daughter during his recovery

word count: 5.2k

tagging people who interacted with my post: @i-am-a-lost-girl16 @mandypants95 @fallinallincurls @sidscrosbyy @myhockeyworld87 @lilyhood22 @joeyisourranger @je-ne-regrette-rien @youngbeezer @slimdebrusk

“Y/N?” Tyler spoke nervously, you tore your eyes off of the six month old in your arms, she gurgled in complaint as she grabbed at your face, “what’s up?” You asked him, shushing his daughter as she kept pinching your face. He smiled at the sight of you two, “I have to have a couple of surgeries, big surgeries, and I’m going to need a lot of help with Willow.” He explained, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck, “do you think you could come stay with us for a while?” He finally asked, you nodded instantly, you’d known Tyler ever since he came to Dallas. Long before he ended up as a single father to little Willow. “Of course, Ty.” You assured him, “anything you guys need.” You added, giving him a soft smile as Willow reached for her daddy. “Hi baby girl.” He grinned, smothering her in kisses, “glad you finally wanted to come back to me.” He teased her, holding her above his head as she giggled, the sight alone melted your heart as she grabbed at his beard the second it was in reach. “When is the surgery?” You asked him, you were fortunate enough to run an online shop, so really, as long as you could bring your supplies to his house, which you knew he’d have no problem with, you’d be set.

“Next week,” he paused, glancing over at you, “in New York.” He rushed his words together. “New York?” You gasped, eyes going a little wide. “You don’t have to come!” He stated, “my mom is going to meet me there, and then she’ll fly with me back here.” He explained, “I’ll be gone for a little over a week, then I can rehab here.” He added, realizing he didn’t explain anything very well. “Are you sure you don’t want us there?” You asked, motioning to Willow who was happily laying on his chest, gurgling away, probably close to taking a nap since she just ate. “I do, I really do, but it’s not worth the hassle, she’ll be happier here.” Tyler sighed, resting his chin on top of her head. “I’ll send you a bunch of pictures and videos of her, promise.” You laughed softly, thinking of how crazy this recovery is going to be for him. “You’re going to do great.” You assured him, seeing the wheels turning in his head, “I’m sure of it, and I’ll do anything I can to help.” You murmured, running a hand through your hair as all he could do was muster up a smile.

***

Day 1.

Tyler’s mom FaceTimed you that night, once he was coherent enough to remember seeing his daughter. “Hi, Mrs. Seguin.” You spoke softly, Willow looking around with wide eyes on your lap, you flipped the camera to show her, “Tyler.” His mom mumbled, handing the phone over, he looked exhausted but the way his eyes lit up when he saw Willow, she’d just had a bath so she was only in a diaper, showing off her chunky little legs. “Hey, Willow, hi baby.” He spoke, she focused in on the phone, rapidly swatting at it as she recognized his face. You giggled, moving her around to be sitting more on your chest, her face next to yours. “Say hi.” You cooed to her, waving her hand for her, she bounced excitedly as he smiled at her.

Day 2.

He was a little grumpy that day, but tried not to show it as he got to see Willow via FaceTime again, you knew he was already tired of being unable to move.

Day 3.

You were talking to him encouragely as he walked for the first time in three days, Willow sleeping in her room, Tyler’s mom held the phone out in front of her. You knew it had to be hard for her as well, to see her son like this, all because he was playing the sport he loved. You took some time to talk to her as the nurses helped Tyler get back in bed.

He didn’t feel up to talking again that day so you were sure to send him photos and videos of Willow, she was finally sitting up on her own without falling over.

The next week went on like that until he was finally coming home, luckily it was right during Willow’s long afternoon nap, so you could help him get settled and get everything in order before his mother had to leave to catch a flight tonight.

***

“Hey, Tyler.” You smiled, opening the car door, greeting him brightly, he tried to mimic your eyes excitement, but you could tell it didn’t quite meet his eyes. “Hey.” He mumbled, letting out a soft groan as you helped him get out and onto his feet, he gave his mom a hard time about using the wheelchair, you could see the pain floating in her eyes, just overly worried that he would fall. “I’ve got him, Jackie.” You assured, walking directly beside him as he hobbled with his crutches, she nodded, grabbing the bags out of the car as you helped him get inside the house.

“Thank you.” He sighed, leaning into the couch cushion as you put a pillow under his leg. You just gave him a reassuring smile, his mom dropping the stuff by the entryway, “be easy on her, I know it’s hard for you, but imagine if you saw Willow like this.” You added in a whisper, understanding came across his face as he nodded, motioning for her to sit beside him, you let them have their moment as you grabbed his bags and brought them to the room he’d been staying in, on the first floor for now, until stairs weren’t a questionable decision.

You put the clothes in the laundry, and moved some stuff down to the guest room, humming softly as you did this stuff without question, just doing it to be helpful, not thinking of how much the small gesture would really mean to him.

After a while, you peeked in on Willow and she was still sleeping soundly with her arms above her head, you smiled, carefully shutting the door to the nursery and heading down the stairs with the monitor, Jackie had to get going if she was going to make it to the airport in time. So you both said your goodbyes, and you could tell it was hard for Tyler to let her leave like that, but what was he to do, she has a life to get on with as well.

“How has she been while I was gone?” Tyler asked, looking at Willow on the monitor, his heart clenching in his chest, wanting nothing more than to hold his baby girl again. “She was good, Ty.” You giggled, easing his nerves, he nodded, “thank you, so much, I know we just started the recovery process but you’ve already helped so much.” He explained, adjusting himself on the cushions, “you don’t have to keep thanking me, I’m happy to help, I love spending time with her, and you.” He smiled at your words, giving you the side eye as you turned away in embarrassment. You two had always been flirty, but once he came to you and said that was going to be a dad, he changed, he stopped going out, he spent his time at home, and it only made it easier for you to imagine a life with him. “We like spending time with you too.” He whispered, resting his hand on your knee right before Willow started to cry. You could tell he briefly forgot he couldn’t go get her as he went to sit up but then stopped himself. “Don’t worry, I’ll get her.” You hopped up, excited to see her when she finally got to see him for the first time in over a week, you took the stairs two at a time as you heard her crying get more intense.

As you picked her up, you completely forgot that Tyler had the monitor, and could hear and see you tending to her. “Oh my goodness.” You cooed, scooping her up, “your daddy is so excited to see you.” You grinned, kissing her chubby cheeks, making a brief face of disgust as you got a whiff of her diaper, “let’s get you cleaned up first.” You whispered, grabbing her a new outfit, this one having dealt with a small blowout. You quickly changed her and put her in her little jean shorts and a pink shirt, if it wasn’t for you, you were certain Tyler wouldn’t have anything girly for her to wear. He was watching the whole time as you took care of her like she was your own, his heart swelling in his chest, he’d always had a thing for you, but as he saw you with his baby, it only made him fall harder. And he became determined to make you his by the time he was back to playing.

He turned the monitor off and shimmied himself to be sitting up more properly as you came down the stairs, “who is that, Willow?” You gasped, pointing towards Tyler, she began to bounce in your arms. “It’s daddy.” You grinned at her, walking over to him and allowing him to take her. He breathed out in relief, “I missed you so much, baby girl.” He groaned, hugging her tightly, she pushed on him so she could lean back and look at him, she looked at him with a completely serious face before trying to bite his nose. He broke into a fit of laughter as he moved her away from his face, “that’s not nice princess.” He joked, tickling her sides, she giggled swinging her little legs as he lifted her up. “I swear she grew in a week.” He mumbled, sitting her on his good side, she sat on the couch, chewing on her hands and getting drool everywhere. “And she sits now.” He groaned, dramatically resting his head in the couch, she mimicked him and fell into the cushion. “Crazy girl.” You commented, taking the chance while she was distracted to tie up the top part of her hair, she definitely had his hair and all it did was fall in her eyes. Tyler smirked at you, you rolled your eyes at him, “now she looks like a real little princess.” You quipped to him, he faked a gasp, dramatically hoisting her into his chest. “How dare Y/N say that about my princess.”

It was a lot of extra work, and mess, but you brought her jar of food and bib to the couch so Tyler could feed her, knowing it was one of his favorite times with her as she was so smiley. “Have you ever tried this?” Tyler asked curiously as you sat beside him with her in your lap, she happily ate the spoonful of puréed apples, peas and beets. “Baby food?” You asked with a laugh, he nodded, pushing some more into her gummy smile, she gnawed on the spoon as he tried to take it away. “No, I haven’t.” You answered as you contained your laughter, “I tried it once, I figured it couldn’t be so bad, and it was even worse than bad.” He explained, carefully prying the spoon from her hands, she pouted at him, about to cry until he gave her the last bite and let her chew on the soft rubber spoon. “I’m sure it was.” You snickered, lightly wiping around her mouth, “when’s that first tooth gonna come in? Hmm.” He spoke to her, rubbing her little tummy as she burped, he smiled at her, the love he had for her was something only a father and daughter could share, and it was beautiful as you could see the concern on his face as she began to whimper. You let him take her as you went to get rid of the jar and spoon, coming back with her bottle.

“I just changed her, so she should be good for a while after this, is it alright if I go get some work done?” You asked him, he easily nodded as he laid her back on his chest, holding the bottle up to her lips as she eagerly started sucking on it. “Yeah, of course.” He spoke, not hearing you had already started walking away once he nodded, he smiled as you were tying your hair up sloppily while you walked, something you’d always done when you were getting focused on a project.

He turned on the golf channel, sinking into the couch with Willow as she fell asleep once her bottle was empty, he laid her down in the cushion beside him, boxing her in with a rolled up blanket and leaving his hand resting on her as he himself fell asleep.

***

Tyler had been home for a couple of weeks, physical therapy had been stepping up a lot, which meant he was incredibly sore by the time he got home, and incredibly stubborn. He figured, if he could do it just fine with a doctor walking beside him, there was no reason he couldn’t walk ten feet into the bathroom. Well, he quickly found out he was wrong as he stumbled from a pain in his hip and ended up on his knees, cursing as he couldn’t push himself up. You heard him fall, then the sounds of him cursing to himself and you shot up. “Tyler!” You called, rushing towards his room, he felt his cheeks flush with embarrassment as you rounded the corner. “Hey, hey, are you ok?” You gasped kneeling beside him. He shook his head, slumping against the wall in defeat, “what’s wrong?” You asked, looking over him, trying to make sure he didn’t pull any stitches, or injure himself again. “I just can’t get up.” He muttered, slamming his fist on the wall. “I’m a fucking professional athlete and I can’t stand up on my own!” He snapped, he thought you’d move away at the tone of his voice, but you didn’t, you only moved closer, wrapping your arms around him in a hug. “I know, Ty. It’s going to be ok.” You whispered, his breathing was ragged as he finally gave in and hugged you back. He calmed down as you just stayed there, letting him hug you as tight as he needed, you pushed his curly mop of hair back once he completely calmed down. “You ready to get back up again?” You whispered, he nodded watching you stand up and give him your hands. “Just push with your good leg, alright.” You gently reminded him, stepping a little sideways to give your feet some traction. “One, two, three.” You pulled on his hands as he slid up, his back against the wall steadying him, he planted both feet on the ground, you quickly grabbed his crutches.

“I’ll just wait until you’re back in bed.” You mumbled, taking a seat on the edge of the bed, he nodded, hobbling to the bathroom right outside the room. Your adrenaline high quickly crashed as you waited for him, and you found yourself laying flat on the bed as you waited.

Tyler came back into the room, stopping in the doorway as he saw you stretched out on half of the bed. A smile came over his face as you shifted in your sleep, burying half your face in the pillow, inhaling softly as you felt at peace. He didn’t wake you, he couldn’t bring himself too, so he carefully got into the opposite side of the bed, the thumping in his chest so loud he was certain you could feel it as you subconsciously rolled towards him, resting your hand on his chest as he threw the blanket over you.

Eventually, morning came, and when you woke up in the empty bed, the events of last night came rushing back and you leaped out of bed, not only was Willow crying from her room, but you didn’t see Tyler anywhere, you instantly became worried he’d fallen again and you’d slept right through it. “Y/N?” Tyler called as you went rushing past the kitchen looking for him. “Tyler!” You gasped in relief, placing a hand over your chest as you saw him pouring a cup of coffee. “I thought you fell again, oh my god, where did you sleep? Oh, the baby, let me get the baby!” You rambled heading for the stairs, he chuckled as he listened to you stomp up them, Willow’s crying soon stopping as you picked her up.

He was feeling a little better today, so he managed to get Willow’s morning bottle ready, and some toast for himself, settling himself at the table as you came down the steps. Your hair was tangled in itself, you didn’t have makeup on, and you were in oversized sweats and a tank top, but you’d never looked better to him as you giggled with his daughter on your hip.

You called his name as you walked into the kitchen, spotting him at the table, he didn’t answer, but his eyes were pointed in your direction, “Tyler?” You called again, snapping your fingers. He blinked, “what? Sorry.” Tyler muttered sheepishly, “did you want eggs?” You asked him, eyeing him suspiciously as you maneuvered Willow in your arms to give her her bottle. She happily started drinking it as you propped it up on your cheek, pulling the eggs out of the fridge. “Give her to me.” Tyler chuckled, making grabby hands for her as you struggled to balance everything, you happily gave her over, glancing back as he cooed down to her, whispering a good morning as he kissed her messy head of his hair, they looked so like in that moment, Tyler with his hair sticking all over the place, and Willow with hers pushed to the side from you, with a clip barely holding it back.

“I’m not sure if you’re up to it, or if you want to, but I was going to go to the pumpkin patch later today, if you and Willow want to come?” You offered, “I know you hate having to use that wheelchair but it would be so fun to see her next to all those giant pumpkins.” You raddled on, giving Tyler the chance to admire you, “yeah, that sounds fun.” He answered, smiling when you turned to face him excitedly, “I’m sure you have some cute outfit for her planned out too.” He rolled his eyes jokingly, and you nodded eagerly, of course you did, how could you not, it is her first fall season after all.

“Here ya go.” You mumbled, sliding a plate in front of him, he furrowed his eyebrows, “I never answered about the eggs.” He didn’t argue though, as he picked up his fork and took a bite. “I know, but you’re doing a lot today, you need them.” You giggled, offering a small piece to Willow, now nearly eight months old. She happily mushed it with her couple of teeth, smiling brightly at Tyler, he nodded reassuring her that she was doing good.

Finally you were loading up into the car to go out for a while, Willow dressed in the cutest outfit she had, something you’d bought before she was even born. The belle sleeve onesie just barely still fit her chunky frame, and the red overall skirt over top just made her look even more adorable, and of course, a matching red bow in her hair. Tyler jokingly didn’t approve of how short her skirt was as he took her from you once you arrived, she sat perched on his lap as you pushed the wheelchair down the isles, thankful for the wood boards they had put down as paths in the dirt, Willow was making noises at everything she saw, reaching out to touch the pumpkins every once in a while. “Let me get a picture of you two.” You stopped his chair next to a huge pile of pumpkins, and he stood Willow up on his lap as she grinned at you, it was by far one of your favorite photos of them so far.

An older couple was walking by and smiled at you, “would you like me to take a photo for you?” She asked, and before you could even process her words, Tyler was answering with a yes please. You felt the blood rush to your face as you approached him, he handed Willow to you, and you were about to stand beside him but he gently pulled you to sit on his good leg, you didn’t have time to react, you only smiled for the camera just like he was. “Oh, how beautiful.” The older woman cheered, handing the phone back over to you. “Thanks.” You mumbled, Willow hiding her face in your neck, suddenly shy. You clicked on the picture, and you felt like your chest would explode, you looked like a family, but you weren’t. “Y/N?” Tyler called, you quickly shoved your phone in your pocket, “are you ready to go?” He asked, taking the baby back from you, confusion laced in his tone as he saw the look on your face. “Yeah, Uh, yeah let’s go.” You mumbled, pushing the chair towards the exit, he held in a sigh, trying to figure out what had caused your sudden mood change.

***

“It’s Christmas!” You heard Tyler cheer as he got Willow out of her crib, the nine month old clapping her hands out of his excitement. Tyler was on the upside now, his second surgery complete, and now rehabbing both, he was able to walk without his crutches, he had to go slow on the stairs, but the doctor encouraged him to keep working on them. In a few weeks he’s going to be skating for the first time in months, and you were terrified, meanwhile he was ecstatic, ready to feel like his normal self again. You smiled, keeping your eyes shut as your door opened, “it’s Christmas!” Tyler shouted, putting Willow on the bed and letting her crawl up to your head, mushing on your cheeks, you gasped lifting her up quickly, sending her into a fit of giggles in her reindeer pajamas. “Christmas? Your first one!” You spoke to her, Tyler smiled, sitting beside you. “Merry Christmas.” He whispered, handing you an envelope, he laughed as you put Willow down and quickly pushed yourself to be sitting against the headboard beside him. She made her little baby babble as she played with the bunched up blanket. “You didn’t have to get me anything.” You spoke softly, opening the envelope, revealing a gorgeous Christmas card. “Oh shush, just read it.” You could hear the nerves in his tone, you shot him a smile before letting your eyes run over the extensive writing he’d done.

“Y/N, you have been a godsend in mine and Willow’s life, there isn’t anyone else I would’ve trusted to leave her with during all of this, there isn’t anyone else I’d want to be helping me off the floor at three am. What I’m trying to get at is,

There isn’t anyone else. I don’t think there will be anyone else.

So, if you’d kindly accept my gift, dinner, without Willow, a date, that’s what I’d like to call it.

Love, Tyler.”

“What’s the matter, Seguin? Too afraid to ask me in person?” You quipped, he opened and closed his mouth searching for the right words to say, “is that a yes?” He finally asked, a hopeful look dancing in his eyes. “Of course it’s a yes. I’ve only been waiting months for you to ask.” You giggled, catching him off guard by pecking his lips, it isn’t like you two hadn’t shared kisses before, but it was normally in a drunken state. “Uh-huh.” He hummed pulling you back in for a proper kiss, Willow shrieked, startling you both. She was looking at you angrily, before snuggling up to her dad, as if saying you weren’t allowed near him. “Good job, princess, gotta protect daddy from mean ol’ Y/N.” He murmured to her, earning a glare from you, but as he broke into laughter, you couldn’t even keep up your charades. “Come on, it’s Christmas, she’s got presents to open.” You mumbled, kissing her chubby cheek, “presents!” He cheered, holding her up highly, she giggled as he lunged her back down.

The date had gone as good as you could’ve hoped,

not exactly how he’d planned, but still a great night, the sitter had cancelled, and the restaurant he wanted to take you too didn’t offer a pick up option, so you ended up eating pizza on the living room floor, watching Disney movies, per your request, and talking about everything and anything. And of course, there were lots of stolen kisses.

***

“It’s alright to be a little scared you know.” You reminded your now boyfriend, he was about to go on the ice for the first time in months, and the anxiety just hit him, what if’s repeating themselves in his head. Willow was fast asleep in the stroller, tired from her own activities this morning. “But–“ “No but, you’ve got this babe, you’ve been warming up to this for months, hell, you probably skate better than you walk.” You cut him off, giving him a short pep talk, you squealed in delight when he pulled you in for a quick kiss. You pulled away with a smile, “now, go show that ice whose boss.” You giggled, pecking him once more before patting his shoulder, you weren’t allowed to watch him rinkside, no distractions allowed, so you took Willow for a short walk, all the while she slept. You kept yourself busy, getting caught up with things on your phone as you waited for Tyler to call and say he was done.

Finally as you went back to get him, Willow was awake but grumpy, and hungry, so you kind of just rushed in with her on your hip. Also remembering you had some stuff to do for work today that was time sensitive, “how’d it go?” You asked as you bounced her in an attempt to get her to calm down. Tyler slung his bag over his shoulder, “it was great, rusty, but it felt good.” He explained shortly, sending your urgency, “I’ll put her in the car.” He offered, taking her from you, and instantly she calmed down, only making you feel worse. You knew it was common for her to go through phases, hell, she’d done this with Tyler where she wanted nothing to do with him for almost a whole month, you didn’t realize how bad it would hurt. He shot you an apologetic smile, “hey, just take a deep breath. You’re gonna get everything done on time.” He assured you.

***

New Years had come and gone, and Willow’s first birthday was quickly approaching, as were her first steps. Tyler was sad that they were going to be happening so soon, but at the same time he was beyond excited for her to be running around in no time.

She quickly grew out of the phase of only wanting Tyler, which both of you were grateful for, as he could see it eating away at you.

“Come on, come to dada.” You heard Tyler, you peeked your head around the wall, seeing him sitting on the floor arms reach away from Willow, she looked at him quizzically, reaching her arms out, she wobbled but didn’t fall. “Come on baby.” He encouraged her, she took one step, two, three, and he just kept sliding back until she couldn’t go any further. “Oh my god!” You and Tyler shouted at the same time, “shit,” he jumped now knowing you were behind him. “Hi.��� You laughed, sitting beside him, “I think you officially have a walker on your hands.” You told him, pressing a kiss to his cheek. He furrowed his brows for a moment, he looked as if he was going to say something, but then decided against it. “Yeah I do.” He chuckled in agreement, setting her back on her feet and grinning as she did it again, and again, and again until she was too tired to do anymore and just plopped herself on your lap.

“Hi baby.” You mumbled, kissing her forehead, she sighed, nuzzling into your neck, instantly falling asleep. “She loves you.” Tyler mumbled, tucking your loose hair behind your hair, you bit your lip as you looked over at him. “I love you.” He breathed out, relief hitting him when you broke into a huge smile, “I love you, Ty.” You mumbled, he kissed you as good as he could with Willow curled up on your lap. “Let’s go put her to bed, yeah.” He laughed, taking her from you and disappearing to her room in record speed.

***

Tyler had his first morning skate today, finally getting back into a routine with the team, he was anxious as it was on a Saturday, thankfully no game today, but it was Willow’s birthday party. Of course, all planned by you, Tyler clueless on what to do for a one year old, all he knew is it had to be puppy themed, because those were her absolute favorite things.

“Woah.” Tyler stopped in his tracks, seeing the decorations you’d spread out around the house, his dogs happily laying with party hats on their heads. “Baby, this is awesome.” He chuckled as you came around the corner to greet him, “I know it is.” You laughed, welcoming the hug he offered you. “Thanks for doing all this for her.” He mumbled against your head, “of course.”

***

“Dada, dada, dada!” Willow shrieked running towards him, “Willow?” He gasped, his first game back resulting in a loss, but he scored and you couldn’t lie, it made you emotional. And he was all the clueless to you two being here, “surprise!” You grinned as he scooped her up, “you came?” He mumbled in shock, kissing his daughter before pulling you in with his other arm, “of course we came.” You whispered against his lips, smiling as he finally kissed you, “you did so amazing, babe, I’m so proud of you.” You cupped his jaw with one hand, “thank you.” Is all he could get out before Willow started to speak. She reached for you, “mama.” Your breathing hitched, and Tyler’s smile had grown. You looked to him, afraid to over step, “yes baby, that’s mama.” He assured her, “Tyler.” You cautioned, taking her as she kept reaching for you.

“Y/N, she’s just as much yours as she is mine, you’ve been here since she came home, you’ve taken care of her like a mother, and I don’t plan on letting you go anytime soon. So yes. You’re her mom.” His words brought tears to your eyes, he smiled softly wiping away the tears, kissing your forehead as Willow watched curiously, she kissed your cheek with a smile, having learned early on to be affectionate to people she liked. “Thank you baby,” you cooed to her, resting your head on top of hers. “Mama?” She hummed, smiling against you. “Yeah.” You agreed. “I love you.” Tyler sighed, snapping a picture of his girls, he said the words right before he snapped the picture, getting the most genuine smile from you. “I love you.”

taglist: @boqvistsbabe @tortito @2manytabsopen @heybarzy @barzysreputation @yzas-stuff @iwantahockeyhimbo @calgarycanuck

[acrosstobear]

Callum Ilott talks racing accidents, tragedy and mental health

Callum Ilott pauses, takes a deep breath and prepares to answer.

It seems a pretty straightforward question to deliver a response to: are racing drivers affected after a crash or seeing a team-mate or rival have an accident? But it’s a deeply personal topic for the 22-year-old.

The Formula 1 rising star saw the aftermath of a tragic collision at Spa during his F2 days which claimed the life of his close friend Anthoine Hubert and seriously injured team-mate Juan Manuel Correa.

Ilott’s retort after taking some time to consider his thoughts shows the long-lasting effects of the heartbreaking incident. But it also begins to help reveal the psychology of racing drivers and how they deal with the inevitable dangers that come with driving at speeds of 200mph or more.

Callum Ilott opens up about the death of Anthoine Hubert

“To satisfy my own mental state I spent that whole evening and the next day analysing what happened,” the Ferrari Academy Driver said of the 2019 crash.

“In my mind I almost completely understood why it happened and it felt easier to accept it. I go through it and piece it together. I’d lost a good friend and my team-mate was fighting for his life. It was an ongoing process to deal with it.

“You can’t change what happened but he’d (Anthoine) changed me – not because of the accident – but because of how he was, how he influenced people and I took quite a few lessons from him. I took it upon myself to make changes, inspired by him.

“Everyone says ‘you’re doing it (racing) for him’, but I’d rather take the lessons that he gave me as it’s a greater impact than doing it for him. It can happen to anyone and you have to take every chance and moment you get in life, that was one of the lessons I took. It helped change my values and understanding of some things.”

Karting isn’t the safest but neither is rugby, says F1 talent

Like almost all professional drivers, the Cambridge-born talent started out in karting where he “enjoyed the speed” rather than feared it. His biggest concern was making mistakes.

Even though he saw people roll their karts and break their collarbones, his safety was more of a concern to his mum than himself as he continued to calculate and process the risk – a method that remains to this day.

Ilott said: “A lot of possibilities have to come together and at least nine times out of 10 you can get away with a crash and maybe one time you don’t.

“Karting wasn’t the safest thing but then you could say neither was rugby at school, all it takes is someone to do a high tackle or you fall funny and you could be in hospital or a wheelchair for the rest of your life. Anything can happen but I don’t look at things in a negative way.

“When it’s someone close to you that has an accident there’s obviously emotion attached to it. But it’s all facts and statistics for me. At the end of the day you’re in this sport and you’re in this position. If the stats were a bit higher then I think I would be concerned but at the moment you just hope it doesn’t happen to you. A lot of improvements continue to be made in terms of safety too.”

Alfa Romeo reserve relives dramatic Formula 1 test crash

So what happens when it’s you who is involved in an accident? When you have a massive smash that leaves you seriously injured or feeling incredibly lucky to be alive?

Ilott, a reserve for Alfa Romeo, had his biggest crash while testing for the team two years ago. He’d just set his best lap of the day at Barcelona on his F1 test debut when the rear snapped in a fast right-hander and sent him careering into the barriers at around 130mph.

“You have to crack back on,” admitted the 2020 F2 runner-up.

“Whilst you’ve got time you can feel sorry for yourself and punish yourself. It can be a greater lesson than moving on. For one week I don’t think anyone could really talk to me. Physically I was almost completely fine, I had a bit of pain in my back, but it was all mental. To me it was more related to my career.

“It was a big moment to have and then to have that end result, in crashing, so I was more worried about my career. In one or two weeks I was back in Formula 2, it was a distraction to get going again. You can get out of the spiral and get on with what you’re doing. You learn your lesson and take the best side of it.”

Being a passenger unsettles the Ferrari Academy starlet

The Adrian Flux-sponsored driver says it takes him within three corners to know the limit, within 5%, of the vehicle he is operating.

And he is sure that’s what sets professionals aside from anyone who steps behind the wheel of a car.

“Depending on the car and conditions, I will drive to how I feel safe,” concluded Ilott, set to make his IndyCar debut in America next weekend.

“On an Autobahn in Germany in the wet, I won’t go above 150kmh (93mph), at risk of aquaplaning. In dry, I can push to 300kmh (186mph) easily and as long as there’s no traffic I won’t worry. I’m aware of limits. I’m very happy to take a car to 300 and wouldn’t bat an eye, I’d quite enjoy it. If I was in the passenger seat, and someone took it to 300, I’d be very nervous.

“I’ve been on track days with friends and I’m helping them out a bit and straight away they go out and I’m like: ‘Woah, woah, woah, woah, you don’t realise how close you are to the limit already. You can’t push that much more and control the car’. A lot of people can drive but it’s always the last little bit and understanding what to do when it’s not perfect conditions.

“It’s very natural with us because we train. A marathon runner knows what pace they can run at all the time and what will last them until the end of the race. It’s the same as a cyclist – if they start to push over the limit they know when they’ll drop off at the end.

“I wouldn’t say we’re wired differently, racing drivers just know the limits of what we’re in and what we can do a lot more than other people. We’re very aware of the limits of each car we get in. It’s all calculated and you can feel and understand where that is and it automatically enters your brain. My body will say ‘that’s your limit’ and you just know depending on the conditions.”

What is professional racing driver Callum Ilott afraid of?

So does anything scare a man who flies around a track knowing one slight mistake could see him hurtling towards a tyre wall, giant slab of concrete or a huge metal barrier at high speed?

“I don’t like the unknown,” added Ilott who is dreaming of an F1 seat in 2022.

“When I was younger, I don’t mind it so much now, but when you’re snorkelling and you get to the edge of the reef and there’s the drop off – you’re staring down and you think ‘what the hell is down there, how far does it go?’

“It’s not the dark, but what’s inside it? Your mind becomes the enemy. Whatever you think is down there, is down there. That’s something I’ve gradually got used to because I’ve learned why. I don’t like spiders either, but I’m not scared of them.”

[sluttbuttsstuff]

Silver Chariot Agency: An Introduction

This is the first chapter/prologue to my jjba sugar daddy au.  To clarify, it’s modern day, with reader x various Jojo characters, all of which are of age, and “sugar daddies”.  I’m hoping to have several options/outcomes for various characters, kind of like a chose you own adventure story, or a dating visual novel.  As a note, this story may contain some dark themes and content, including drug use, yandere, sex scenes, and other things I haven’t currently planned out.

TLDR: this is the story about Y/N, who starts working at Polnareff’s sugar daddy agency and meets lots of hot jojo guys

ENJOY!!!

“Mr. Polnareff is ready to see you now!”  The cheerful secretary (Suzy, you think)  calls out, breaking you from your stupor and ushering you behind large, intimidating doors.   You grew up with dreams bigger than this, having a good career, doing something important with your life, but life had other plans.  You’ve been unemployed for nearly a year, and despite all the classes you’ve taken, interviews you’ve aced, and concessions to pay and pride just to be considered, you still had no job, and your unemployment had finally run out.  Long story short, you were desperate.  That’s when you first heard about the Agency.

You had noticed an email from the Silver Chariot Agency buried between job applications and rejection letters, and confusing it for a job offer, had opened it to read.  According to the email, you had been “scouted” as someone with the qualifications to apply for what appeared to be a Sugar Daddy, or Escort, service.    The email was polite, open and honest, but you couldn’t help but be a bit skeptical, if not mildly offended. There’s nothing wrong with sex work, mind you, but it wasn’t something you had any interest in if you could avoid it. You weren’t interested in selling yourself, and even if you weren’t wealthy, you weren’t ready to auction off your time to creepy old perverts just yet.  Not to mention, how safe were these agencies?  Still, the email had an open doors policy for any questions, as well as a phone number and email to direct all your questions.  You were going to delete the email, but somehow you couldn’t bring yourself to.  You saved it in your folder, and forgot about it for a few months.

Cut to today:  you couldn’t cover your rent, your auto bill, and your credit cards were maxed out.  After sending an email, and talking on the phone to a cheerful woman, she convinced you to visit their offices and talk to their C.E.O,  who was visiting your nearest location on business.  Surprised by their openness, and relieved not to have a door slammed in your face for once, you made an appointment and were now following Suzy through an impressive office space.  Silver Chariot had its own expensive looking building, with high ceilings, metal tones and spotlessly clean wall to wall windows and mirrors.  The place reeked of elegance, intimidatingly so, and you regretted your outfit choice for this interview.  

Suzy finally escorted you into a conference room, with an expansive metal table and tufted leather chairs that probably cost more than your car.  Then, at the end of the conference table, you saw a silver haired gentleman, who Suzy introduced as, “Mr. Polnareff, this is y/n, call me if you need anything!”  and with that, she left and closed the door.  You noticed  Mr.Polnareff didn’t stand up to greet you and shake your hand-not out of rudeness, but because he was in a wheelchair.  On top of that, he had an unusual looking eye patch, and despite clearly being too young to be considered elderly, had prematurely grey hair slicked back in an unusual pompadour.

He shook your hand firmly, and smiled at you as he greeted you, “It’s so lovely to meet you, y/n, I've been looking forward to seeing you in person.  Tell me, what brings you here today?”  He asked, sitting forward and listening intently.  You fiddled with your hands, trying to politely, but vaguely, explain your situation, without sounding too much like a sob story.  Polnareff listened without interrupting, merely nodding, as you explained what you’ve been through.

  “That sounds like a difficult situation- it is difficult in this day and age for young people to support themselves, even more so when they have no one to help them when needed.  I, myself, had to support not only myself, but my younger sister, Cherie, when I was your age.  It was difficult, to say the least, and I didn’t always handle it gracefully to be honest with you.  When my sister saw how much we were struggling, she decided to try helping herself and me by turning to sex work.”

You were shocked by his openness, telling so much of his personal story to a total stranger interviewing at his agency.  He continued,

“Back in my day, the streets of France were not a safe place to sex workers, least of all vulnerable women unable to defend themselves.  It was one of those nights, while my sister was working, that she was tragically attacked and killed.  She had no way of protecting herself, as I wasn’t with her, and the police were just as dangerous.  She died alone because no one was willing to help save her, myself included.  He paused, rubbing his temples as he remembered.

You tried to stop him, “Um, you don’t have to-”  you began, but he held up a hand and assured you,

 “I am fine, it is a painful, but old wound, and important you hear.  It was the most devastating event of my life, but it shaped me into the man I am today.  You see, because of what happened to my sister, I was determined to provide a safe place to any and all women and sex workers, no questions asked, to protect them from things that could happen to them.  Sex work is not something to be criminalized or judged; it is the oldest profession and a valuable work. So, The Silver Chariot Agency provides a safe way to support those in the industry.  That being said, working as an escort, or as it's sometimes called, ‘sugar baby’-”

 he punctuates the term with bunny ear fingers, “-Can be dangerous work.  There is always a risk of assault, and rape, however hard we may try to combat it, but our agency has extremely strict policies and protection plans to protect our workers in either case. I promise , should you decide to work here, that I will do everything in my power to keep you safe.”  Polnareff grabs your hand, looking into your eyes, intensely.  

You know you’ve just met him, but you’re inclined to believe Polnareff.  He’s either an excellent liar, or simply cares deeply about his company and employees.  

“There are, of course, other things to consider before you decide to take this job.  It is  a job, and many of our clients aren’t looking for romance, but some are hoping to find love and a potential romantic partner via our agency.  Some are looking for purely sexual relationships, and some want nothing to do with sex.  Some of our clients are involved with...less than legal hobbies and activities, and we strongly caution you not to get involved, as our legal department and contracts can only protect you so far.  If you decide to engage, do so with caution. 

“ Lastly, you ultimately get to decide who you want to pick as your clients, so choose wisely.  I have Suzy-”  He gestures to the woman, presumably waiting down the hall to escort you when ready, “Write up summaries and information on every applicant who have expressed an interest in our agency.  Make sure to carefully review them, and choose the client you think will have the best relationship.”  He finishes, giving you a lot to think of.  He can see the gears turn in your mind, and gives you time.  “Please, don’t feel like you have to respond today. Or, if you try this out and don’t like it, you can leave the agency or specific clients, with no fear of repercussions.”  He Pulls away from the table, and turns towards the door, before pausing.

He seems to change his mind, shaking his head as Suzy gets the door for him.

“I look forward to seeing you again, regardless of your decision, mon amie.  I’ll let Suzy handle the rest for today, thank you.  If you decide to accept, just call Suzy and ask her to see some client applications to pick out who you’d like to work with. Au revoir.”  And with that, Mr. Polnareff disappears with surprising speed.  Any other questions and details are handled by Suzy, who cheerfully tells you about the position, average salaries, tax information, and your typical FAQ.  You listen mutely, occasionally nodding along,  but you’re still thinking about everything Polnareff told you.  You could not only support yourself with this  job, but make a killing, while still being safe and having a say in the relationships.  This could work. This could work…

Less than 24 hours later, Suzy gets another phone call at the office.  “Silver Chariot Agency, this is Suzy, how may I assist you today?”  She asks cheerily.  A familiar voice whispers on the other end, “Do you think I could see some of those client Applications, please?”