#because of knee issues despite the fact he was cleared by doctors to sign

[ratatatastic]

everyday i have to be subjected to toronto media especially in relation to sports is another day id like to go on a rampage with a machete

[perriewinklenerdie]

Taking my heart by storm (Ethan x MC)

Open Heart, Ethan Ramsey x MC

A/N: Hi guys! How are you guys doing today? It’s da weekend, bby. I’m back with another Friday fic. The idea for this one came to me when I was driving my cats to the vet and the storm was going on. We can all thank Mother Nature and her breakdown for that one entirely :D Also, the real MVP Naveen makes an appearance in this, because PB is hiding him and that’s some serious bs right there.

Summary: Ethan and Claire share a kiss in the rain in the greenhouse after storm cuts the lights out.

Enjoy! <3

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

Since noon, the clouds have been crowding the sky, prompting the storm that was coming. Ethan’s shift has just ended when the first sound of a thunder rolled through the walls of the hospital. It was a hectic day, a wave of flu bringing more people to the free clinic and slippery ice sending many people tumbling to the ground, sprains and broken limbs overpowering the cases doctors had to face.

Unsurprisingly, Ethan couldn’t wait to get home. Especially since he knew for a fact that tonight, he wouldn’t be alone. Claire has accepted his invitation earlier that day, smiling every time she saw him, vision of them going home together never too far away from her mind. That smile of hers was what he thought about fairly often, and for the past few weeks, he was admitting it both to himself and to Claire. And with each day that he opened up to her more, it became easier to let her in.

The last time he saw her was two hours ago, when they finished consulting for a patient of the team. Since then, they communicated through texts, much to her amusement, and he had no doubts that she would be teasing him about it, like she always did. And he always would tell her that she’s lucky he cared about her, or he wouldn’t let it slide this easily.

He grabbed his bag and closed the office behind him, taking his phone out to text her once again, asking where she was. Not a minute later, he knew where he was supposed to go, aiming his steps towards her. No nurse or doctor dared to stop him, one look at his tired form letting them know it’s best to steer clear.

The entrance to the garden was tucked away from the view, and not many people knew about its existence, not even people working there. For that reason, the hall leading up to it was empty, as was the garden itself. The bench in the middle of the room was occupied.

Claire was lying down, the tips of her hair brushing the ground. Both hands resting on her stomach, moving up and down with every breath she took. Her eyes were closed, face a picture of complete calmness, a stark contrast to the angry wind that shook the trees outside and smacked raindrops against the glass of the orangery.

Ethan placed his bag on the ground by the entrance, then leaned against the doorframe, watching her silently. It’s a very rare sight for him lately, to see her so blissfully relaxed and detached from the issues of the hospital. Of course, when they were alone, it was fairly easy for both of them to forget about their problems. At work, though, the fatigue and dread followed them like their own shadows, never too far behind.

With the next breath of his, she stirred slightly, her eyes fluttering open, feeling that she was being watched. She took a moment to let her eyes readjust to the brightness of the room, a small moan escaping her lips. Ethan reached for the switch, dimming the lights a bit to make it easier for her, giving her a clear sign that she wasn’t alone anymore. Her head turned towards him, the corners of her lips going up at the sight of him.

“Hi.” She muttered, her voice raspy and deep. Her body didn’t move, not even an inch, as he walked towards her slowly, keeping his eyes on her firmly.

“I thought you left, with how long ago I last saw you.” he mused, keeping a bit of distance between them, just in case someone was to walk in on them, however unlikely it was. Claire grinned, raising her hands above her head to stretch. Her words were strained when she spoke again.

“I have plans for the evening. Maybe even for the night if things work out.”

Despite them both being still in the hospital and having it hanging over their heads, Ethan couldn’t fight the smile nor the acceleration of his pulse at what she was alluding to. “I assure you that whoever invited you has similar things on his mind.”

Slowly, she sat up, her hair falling over her shoulders and framing her face and neck. With a slow and controlled move, she beckoned him closer, crooking her finger and looking at him with a sultry smile. It was dangerous, how fast he reacted accordingly to her wishes, without stopping for even a second to think about what they were doing. When he was close enough to hear her low whisper, she found his gaze with hers, her eyes darkening slightly.

“Similar things, huh? Are you sure?” she hooked her little finger with his thumb, then released it so she could slide her hand up his arm. Each time she touched him, a wave of heat ran to the very core of him. She traced the shapes on the skin on the inside of his elbow, all the while looking at him with the intensity that he’s seen countless of times before. “Why don’t you show me what you’re thinking about right now?”

He cupped the side of her face with his other hand, stroking her cheekbone softly, his mind giving up the fight with each move their fingers made. Getting down on his knees, he slid his palm down the side of her neck, squeezing her shoulder on his way, until, finally, he let it linger on her thigh. He opened his mouth to say something, but before any words could form, a harsh roar of a thunder interrupted him. Moments later, the lights flickered and then went out, drowning them in darkness.

“How long until the backup power modules begin working?” Claire muttered, as though the atmosphere dictated how loud they could be. Ethan listened to the hum of the rain before he answered.

“The power kicked back in immediately, so all the machinery is still working. As for the lights, though, it can be a few minutes.”

“How long?” she asked again, leaning towards him blindly, knowing only the general direction in which she should be heading. Lightning struck, bringing their sight back for a short moment, raindrops casting shadows on their faces, enhancing the lines of their features.

“Give or take, ten minutes. Why?”

“No reason.” She shrugged, pulling on his hand and bringing him flush against her, their lips brushing together. This close, she could almost see the hint of light, reflecting in his eyes, though she could have been imagining things. His hands found their place on her back, keeping them close together. He could argue that it was to keep them both safe, prevent possible injuries if one of them were to move and trip over something, but he knew damn well that his one and only purpose was to feel her warmth. To smell her perfume. To feel her arms wrap around him and keep him close.

With the next lightning, he focused on her lips. How the corners remained turned up, just as they were before the power went out. How the shape of them fit his too perfectly for their meeting to have been an accident. The pull towards her he felt was too strong for him to fight, and yet, for so long, he tried to resist it. Only to, in the end, dive into the storm that she was, slowly letting her consume him whole.

When the darkness came back, he pulled her into the kiss. It’s slow and light, unlike the quick kiss she gave him before she left his apartment that morning. Unlike the ravenous kisses they attacked each other with the night before, right after the door to his home closed behind them. There’s no heat, no desire other than that to keep the other close and not let go. There’s no doubt, either, just pure certainty, warmth and care, evident in the way his arms held her tightly and in the way her grip on his shoulders was secure.

Water continuously fell from the sky, drumming against the glass ceiling of the greenhouse, almost entirely masking the quiet sounds they were making. Claire wouldn’t have been able to notice how he hummed against her lips if it wasn’t for the gentle vibrations it was causing, teasing her nerve endings.

Ethan leaned away eventually, using a glimpse of light to look at her again. His heart hammered in his chest, his cheeks must have been flushed and he was sure that he looked positively infatuated. Staring at her in the dark, he could see with his memories how she glanced at him in moments like these; flickers of happiness in her eyes and a soft smile lighting up her face, brighter than any source of light ever could.

“That’s as close to the kiss in the rain as we’ll ever get.” Claire giggled quietly, moving her hand to stroke his cheek with the back of her fingers. He welcomed the sensation, leaning into her touch. She couldn’t possibly see his teasing smirk, but he had a feeling she knew it was there.

“Who knew such an idiotic idea could be so pleasant.” He wondered out loud, waiting for a reaction of hers. And he got just that. She scoffed, punching his arm playfully before falling into his embrace again with a sigh as the storm raged outside.

----------

Naveen slowly navigated the long halls of his hospital, flashlight in hand, searching for people caught by the darkness. So far, he managed to guide three lost patients that went on a walk and couldn’t find their way back when the power went out, and that prompted him to go on.

Knowing that not many of his colleagues were even aware of the existence of the garden, he decided to go there himself. How was it possible that people worked there for years but not know about all the locations in their workplace was beyond him, but he didn’t have time to wonder about it in that moment.

He called out loudly as he walked, listening in for any signs of voices, but there was no answer. No sound other than the angry howls of the storm outside. His flashlight shone rays of brightness onto the walls and the floor, and once he reached the greenhouse, it pierced through the glass and reflected in the leaves of many plants that grew there.

Upon entering the room, he called out again, moving the flashlight around slowly. “Hello? Is anyone here- oh.”

Naveen stopped abruptly, taking in the sight in front of him. He expected a lot of things, and a lot of people, but no matter how many times he blinked, the picture didn’t disappear. It was very much real.

Ethan sat up faster than he thought he could at the sound of his mentor’s voice. Some time has passed since the lights have gone out, and when kisses transitioned into a tight embrace, he pulled her onto the ground, both of them lying down so they could watch the sky as the clouds went by, lit up by lightning strikes from time to time. It almost felt like it could have been their first date, but neither of mentioned it.

When Naveen found them, Ethan’s hand was running up and down Claire’s arm, their bodies pressed close as the low hum of the rain almost lulled them both to sleep. Upon interruption, Ethan, and shortly after Claire, sat up, both immediately awake and aware of how busted they were.

They stared at each other for a long while, unsure what were the words that were supposed to be said. Eventually, Naveen broke out of the trance, nodding his head slowly in acknowledgement. In the darkness of the garden he couldn’t be sure, but he was pretty much certain that Ethan’s cheeks were taking on a bit of a darker color. It was Claire that confirmed it for him when she eventually cut the silence.

“Go easy on him with the teasing.”

Ethan’s head turned towards her in record time, his face spelling out mock betrayal, which made her laugh even more than she already was. She patted his shoulder with her extended hand, muttering ‘there, there’, a joke that he was clearly not amused by. Naveen watched them with a growing grin.

“You two are adorable.” His words caused the pair to look at him with surprise in their eyes. He walked towards them, extending his hand in Claire’s direction to help her up. She accepted it, standing up and pulling Ethan right along with her. “The lights are going to be gone for at least another hour, so you two should go home.”

Ethan’s annoyance was crystal clear in the way he spoke. “I can literally hear you smiling, Naveen, what’s got you so amused?”

“I’m just wondering, how did you wear him down, Claire? I’ve spent years trying to get him to go fishing with me and he wouldn’t budge.”

She laughed, squeezing Ethan’s arm before she walked towards the exit with Naveen by her side, telling him her strategy as though it was a well-kept secret. Ethan stayed in the garden for a moment longer, watching their silhouettes go with an easy smile before he followed them back towards the hospital.

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

Tag list (I): @paleweasels | @kittykatchoices | @valiantlychaoticbarbarian |   @radlovedreamer | @usuallyamazinglyaverage | @awhmilkywey |   @cordoniaqueensworld | @princess-geek​ | @faithhasnowords | @mightyfangirlofthefandoms​ | @drakewalkerfantasy​ | @timmagicktoad​  @laceandlula​ | @greywitchyshots​ | @llamasgrl​ |  @gingerjane15​ |    @marywrites-things​ | @ethanplaysfavorites​ | @mfackenthal​ | @betelgeusebee​ | @simsvetements​ | @owleyes374​ | @aworldoffandoms​ | @l822​ | @cream-ray​ | @silverlitskies​ | @justendlesssummerfeels​ | @togetherwearerapture​ | @desmaranj​ | @edgiestwinter​ | @friedherringclodthing​ | @waytooattuned​ | @choicesgremlin​ | @lapisreviewsstuff​ | @writerapprentice​ | @chasingrobbie​ | @x-kyne-x​ | @thisperfectmemory​ | @drakewalker04​ | @rookie-ramsey​ | @jlynn12273​ | @thepinknymph​ |  @dr-brianna-casey-valentine​ | @a-i-n-a-a-s-h | @justanotherrookie​ |  @mvalentine​ | @starrystarrytrouble​ | @akshara16​ |  @maurine07​

[timextoxhajima]

HOSTIS, Chapter IV: Vetiti Fructus In, The Forbidden Fruit

Previous Chapter (III: Aemulatio)

Member: Lee Hyunjae (tbz)

Genre (by chapter): angst, drama, comedy

Category: Short Novel/Long Series

“why am i always one step behind you?”

the black rim of the file glistens under the light hanging above the table on your left. translucent curtains were drawn behind and next the the oversized L-shaped couch you were laying on, legs stretched out and laptop sitting on a cushion on your lap. 

the white table was strewn about with freshly printed sheets of data and research you managed to collect in the last week. 

it was day seven of your ten days being mentored by doctor choi. the welcome-party was to be held at the end of the month, not the coming weekend. 

something about the team that was responsible for handling newcomers not being able to host it because everybody was busy... something along those lines.

you didn’t bother noting the reason for a delayed party when the more pressing issue was getting that research file out to doctor kim before lee hyunjae did, and with better content. 

throwing your head back against the pillows, your eyes naturally travel along the ceiling to the glass doors beyond the sofa, lining parallel to your position. the faint dots in the sky above takes you back to the first time you went stargazing with your father. 

you remember your mother didn’t go because she was too busy. 

the brain-juicing brightness off the laptop screen starts to yank on your attention, and you sigh at the sight of the word ‘oncology’. you already did the research online and whatever doctor kim had provided you, and it wasn’t too difficult a task to imagine that lucifer probably had the same type of content written down for that last section as well. 

the frustration empties itself from your chest in the form of a loud groan while your fingers travel to your forehead. 

the only thing left to do was this stupid oncology section, but how were you going to outdo lee hyunjae? sure, the rest of the research report would already be different; every pocket of free time you found in between your rounds with doctor choi, you were working on it. lee hyunjae was nowhere to be found either during those free periods, so what else would he be doing besides filling up the research report?

there was no more room for your own research and understanding of oncology to beat him. you were a neurologist after all, not an oncologist. 

why did doctor kim even include the oncology section when he knew it was going to be difficult for me to get the information?

“arghhhhhhh--” your vision flashes white for a split second at the sudden sitting up, and you place your laptop down off the cushion. the rug covering the living room floor brings comfort to your toes as you stood up and ran your fingers through your hair. 

the painful, but satisfying memory of what happened pre-med school starts to roll in your head like an old VHS tape. the look in lucifer’s eyes when you had him against the locker, the only thing stopping you from driving a test tube down his throat were the long arms of law. 

otherwise, it was sweet, almost diabetic, to watch him crumble and lose to you despite him being the fire starter. 

but then again, you lost the first boy you ever loved because of lee hyunjae. 

you couldn’t even convince yourself that you won.

the VHS tape in your head starts to burn and disintegrate into ashes while the nostalgic fire lights up in your chest, and the thought of losing to him four years ago made you want to get that oncology section done.

your inner ares picks up the file and flips to the last page where the word ‘oncology’ was printed in big, block letters at the top, followed by a bunch of details and information with hypothetical questions listed down. 

the left brow on your face twitches and the muscle movement felt so eerily detached from you, a surge of unstoppable desire erupting inside you like mount vesuvius in 79 AD. 

if you could possess a single power right now, it’ll be pyrokinesis. 

~

the light shining into your office was so bright and warm, it would’ve been a crime not to talk a walk outside. 

you would’ve, but not today. 

lucifer’s office door opens and closes and you notice him heading off in the direction of the washroom, and your peripheral vision captures the oncology page of the hospital website on the computer screen. 

after waiting it out for a safe period of time, you adjust the white coat to hide the color of your breast pocket (where the color differentiated which department you were in) and shoved the staff ID card down the back pocket of your jeans. you grab your file, phone in hand and the gears in your head start to churn out some smart excuse in case anybody were to question why you, a newcomer, looked like you were about to go for a meeting. 

you head for the lift, fingers dancing around while you searched for the floor that connected the east wing over to the north. 

you were already beginning to recite that excuse you built in your head in case doctor kim runs into you while you were walking through the north wing. 

but zeus must’ve decided that one half of his sons deserved some love today, for you run into zero staff who didn’t pay attention to the absence of your staff ID around your neck.

your eyes follow the signs to the west wing, and that was where you started to notice people you really haven’t seen before. 

the atmosphere changed once you got to the office level where all the oncology doctors would be, and most of the staff looked like they had been working without a wink of sleep. 

your vision and attention start to dart around the hallways and doors, trying to look for a name tag on a door that said ‘shin ga hyun’ or something along the lines of oncology research archi--

there we go.

the words ‘research facility’ printed in block letters on the door of the room looked like the word ‘victory’ in another language, and you could only thank zeus for being so kind to you today. 

the lab coat on you and the file case you were holding was enough to prove that you were a staff here, so even if shin ga hyun were to find out you were in her wing, there was nothing she could do about it besides get mad at you for “losing your way while searching for research content”.

the staff ID card slides out from your jeans so you could give yourself access to the dark room, and you notice the only view in was through the little window on the door itself. 

once the door was open, your first step was to get it closed, regardless of whether your eyes could adjust to the orientation of the room. 

relief floods through you, and you quickly wonder why you were so scared of something that wasn’t even illegal. 

a small snort runs through your nose at the thought that you were scared, because frankly, there wasn’t much that could scare you anymore. maybe sometimes, just sometimes, the only thing that could scare you was yourself.

the scent of old paper and files fill your nostrils with every drawer and cabinet you opened, and you start searching for documents with information to grant you access to the oncology database, but not one single sheet of paper satiates your thirst to win. 

your heart was already zipping back and forth in your chest, and the emptiness of the room only reminds you that anybody could come in anytime. your eyes look around the dimly lit room and you note the gap between the lockers behind the desk and the wall where you could run and hide in case someone came in--

“...yes, ga hyun, everything regarding the department’s database have been shifted to your office.”

the pupils on your eyeballs shrink in a second and something similar to a heart attack tears through your chest at the name. the footsteps halt right outside the door and you close the drawer with such calculated strength to prevent yourself from slamming it shut. your heels turn towards the corner and it takes you three incredibly large steps to get you there.

but everything happened so fast that you didn’t even register the fact that you got pulled into that little corner. 

you would’ve rammed your knee so high up this man’s groin if he wasn’t going to scream like a fucking baby if you did. 

“what the fuck are you doing here?!” he mouths angrily at you, ears red and cheeks flushed with fear when the door of the room clicks open. 

“are you sure everything related to the database has been cleared out this room?” shin ga hyun sounded like she’d slit your throat and show no signs of remorse.

“what do you think?!” this silent conversation was going to warrant you a reason to punch him in the face later.

“yes, doctor shin,” the second voice sounded so dead and unbothered, you imagine it had to be someone of a more senior position than shin ga hyun for her to talk to the department head like that. “there may be a few stray sheets here and there but if they weren’t filed properly in the first place, then it’s highly likely they weren’t too important.”

“don’t fucking touch me!” his arm brushes against your shoulder and if you could scream, it would’ve deafened him.

“if you hadn’t come in, we wouldn’t be stuck in this shitty little gap!” 

your eyes widen at his sudden stoppage of mouthing, and you could hear the little breaths coming out after every consonant. 

“will you shut the fuck up?!”

“so you mean to tell me that there is a slight possibility that an important sheet of paper regarding our database is sitting around somewhere inside this room?”

“how can i shut up when i’m stuck in this godforsaken space with you?! i don’t even want to fucking breathe the same air as you!”

oh my fucking god, will he fucking shut his trap-- we are going to get caught--

“oh, my god,” an exasperated sigh fills the room. “ga hyun, you really need to take a chill pill.”

“don’t tell me to ‘take a chill pill’--”

“if you didn’t walk in here like you owned the fucking place, i wouldn’t have touched you!”

your index finger flies up to your lips and you beg him to shut up with your eyes.

but this piece of dumbshit-doctor doesn’t fucking get it--

you had a victory to claim, and you were not going to let him take that away from you. 

the ares inside you wraps your fingers around his face and shoves your lips between his, but your eyes were still wide open, looking out at the glass on the cabinet on the other side of the room to see a taller female trying to drag a shorter female out of the office. 

“you need to take a chill pill. the entire hospital is scared of you, honey. don’t you want to amend that?”

the scanner beeps, and the door clicks open. 

“if nobody’s done anything wrong then there’s no reason for them to be scared of me.”

“fair, but you need to start wearing a smile on your face more often!” the door hisses shut, and the footsteps start to move away. “i’ll get someone to check the database stuff for you then...”

ares leaves your body and your soul gets sucked back into its rightful place, and you don’t think you’ve shoved anyone, or anything for that matter, faster than you shoved lucifer off your face.

wincing in disgust, the back of your hand wipes the corner of your lips as a frown hardens on your forehead, and lucifer was busy sticking out his tongue like he had just eaten something spicy.

“son of a bitch,” the hiss seethes through your teeth as you walk out from the gap, deliberately running your shoulder against his left arm. “don’t you ever assume that i would let the thinnest strand of hair on my body touch you.”

the wrath and rage drips off your tongue like saliva while you walked, turning your head and looking over your shoulder to glare at lee hyunjae. 

“and don’t you ever fucking kiss me again!”

your staff card was barely inches away from the scanner when the words start to eat at your ego. 

“for your fucking information, i did not want my lips to be on yours,” you take two big steps to him who was walking towards you in a fit. “someone just didn’t know how to keep his mouth shut.”

his breath was hitting your cheek rapidly, and you jab your tongue against the inside of your cheek, trying to claw your way through his self-proclaimed glare that he probably thinks scares you off. 

your suck your lips between your teeth and scrunch up your nose with effort, your right hand instinctively deciding that it was a good idea to shove him backwards before you left the room. 

throwing yourself into your own leather seat in your office and the beads of sweat on your forehead coming off onto a tissue, your eyes plaster themselves to the ceiling. 

mission failed.

not only that,

i had to kiss this motherfucking son of a bitch to shut his fucking ass up.

the tissue gets crumpled in your grasp at the thought of underestimating him, and you hurl the lightweight ball barely a metre away from you. 

doctor choi brings you on his final round for the day, and happiness was as simple as finding out that lucifer had been called to handle some boring admin work by the hospital administration because he screwed up somewhere in the system. 

the round was longer than expected, with one of doctor choi’s alzheimer’s patients talking to you about his childhood. doctor choi tries to steer you clear of the patient, worried that you were uncomfortable. but the stories he was telling you brought you back to a time when your parents were still pretty prominent in your life. doctor choi just leaves you with him until the nurses bring around his medicine as a distraction, providing you with a chance to leave before the patient keeps you for the night.

the evening sun paints the floor a tangerine shade, through the glass doors of the offices. and in your hand was the black file with such reluctance and bitterness that you wish you didn’t agree to this whole research department thing in the first place.

most of the research department officers and doctors had evening duties to tend to before they left, so it was pretty quiet and desolate once you reached doctor kim’s desk with the idea of submitting the research report. 

yet the sight of the blue file strikes up a flame of confusion and suspicion. laying down your black file, your fingerpads brush over the cover of the blue one, and ares returns to whisper seductive motivations in your ear. 

you run through the pages, not surprised that most of the data was different from yours, but nothing could’ve prepared you for the five-thousand-word-long report behind the oncology cover sheet. 

motherfucker.

he must’ve found one of those ‘stray sheets’ for the database while he was snooping in the room. 

red bursts of revenge and hatred start to rush through your veins, and you pull apart the rings of the file to remove the ridiculously long report. 

the papers were messily stuffed into your work case and you return the file back to its original position, in time for doctor kim to return to his cubicle.

“ah, i was waiting to see if you were going to submit it today!” he gleams at you, and his warm, elderly aura comforts you, peeling you away from the horrible deed you just carried out. 

“well, yeah... but i have to confess, i didn’t do much for the oncology report at the back.”

“i was already expecting that after i warned you about doctor shin! but nevermind that, i look forward to reading your report.”

“oh but, uh...” you rub the back of your neck. “have you looked through doctor lee’s? it looks pretty thick.”

doctor kim’s palm finds the two files and he shakes his head. “oh, nope. he just gave me this wide smile and told me to read his file like i was reading a book. his confidence is really something else.”

oh, thank god.

“i see,” the sugary taste of satisfaction rubs itself into your taste buds. “i hope we didn’t let you down, doctor kim. we really worked hard on it.”

the smile doesn’t leave his face, and he only gives you a small pat on the shoulder. “i will look forward to reading both reports.” he nods, and you take your cue to bow and bid goodbye. 

~

your living room was barely lit up with the only source of light being the one from the kitchen, and the gentle chirps of crickets outside were muffled through the sliding doors of your living room.

the wine in your glass was practically frolicking about with your little dance of triumph of the day. though part of the reason why you were drinking wine was to force yourself to forget that you kissed lucifer -- ew --, you were also drinking to celebrate. 

“well,” you pout at the little cactus that sat in the middle of the table in your living room. “he should thank me for removing it. doctor kim could figure out that he only got the information from snooping into the oncology department and he could get trouble for it.”

talking to yourself wasn’t a daily routine, but you just couldn’t resist the temptation of convincing yourself that you did nothing wrong. 

which in fact, you did not. 

but the competitiveness seeps through your bones and makes your stomach churn with regret and displeasure again, when the realisation sinks into your head. 

why am i always one step behind you?

with a contorted look of discontentment staring back at you in the reflection of the wine glass, you lift the rim to your lips and down the rest of it like they were shots. 

“i should’ve known he was going to do it,” the wine bottle calls out to you like a siren, and your fingers wrap around the cool, glass surface. “if i did it sooner, i might’ve gotten the fucking database information--”

knock knock

you berate zeus for sending a visitor at such a shitty time, throwing your head backwards and squeezing your eyes shut. 

knock knock knock knock knock knock

“ugh, mom! i told you not to visit me on a weekday!” the release of the wine bottle only fills your stomach with disappointment as you trudged towards the door. 

with enough frustration to fuel your grip around the handle, you yank the heavy door open.

“mom, what are you-- oh.” 

shit.

flares of aching poison start to pierce their way into your eyes upon the eye contact, and your knuckles whiten with the tightening grip on the handle of your door. 

“you’re gonna wish it was your mom, alright.”

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

Chapter V: Monitum

[drawbauchery]

An Enemy, An Enemy, A Frenemy of Mine?

(fic by cartoons-tothemoon)

“So, explain to me again why I’m still tied to a chair and your face isn’t planted clean into the floor?”

“Well, for one, I made scones.”

Skipper had to roll his eyes at that.

It seemed he’d been letting his guard slip as of late. After busting Savio’s NYC rings, he didn’t even hesitate to move them to New Jersey as soon as possible, and with Blowhole still out there and even Private’s old golfing buddy giving them trouble, it appeared that the more paranoid Skipper got, the less obvious clear threats came to him.

Hence, being completely oblivious to obvious things, like anthrax-filled letters, or poisoned scones, or Hans in the corner with a baseball bat, pretending to be a lamp, and somehow succeeding.

Well, at least one of those things got Skipper stuck at Hans’s mushy-gushy tea party of love and frenemyship, on the top of some skyscraper, in the middle of the night.

C’est la vie and all that.

Skipper still had no idea where he stood with the guy. Like, he hated him, clearly, but the kind of nemesis that could be foiled with a lunch date every now and again was not an enemy Skipper considered worth having. If every domestic terrorist could be foiled with hugs and kisses like that, Private would probably be leading the task force. However, Hans’s attacks were always rather personal, never directed at the public in any way. So, somehow, there was something more efficient and more enjoyable about taking care of him for the week he was in town than taking him up on any of his offers were.

Not that Skipper got to rescind that offer now.

“Face it, Skipper. If you didn’t really want to be here, you would have escaped by now.” Hans purred.

“You’re right. Thanks for reminding me.” Skipper said, leaning down to attempt to reach the one of the knives he kept in his boots.

“I just want to talk.”

“Yeah? Well, you got 4 minutes.”

“I think you have some things you want to talk about as well.”

“Buddy, that’s between me, myself, and I. You’re not my therapist, and I wouldn’t talk to you if you were.” Skipper’s speech was soon cut off, as he grabbed the knife from his boot with his teeth, sat up once more, turned his head, and dropped the knife into one of the hands that were tied behind his back. Hans looked rather unimpressed as he sipped his tea.

“You do know that I was going to let you go after this whole ordeal, right?”

“3 minutes.”

“I think you need someone to talk to outside of your task force.”

“I have Marlene. And Kitka.”

Skipper began to carve away at his ropes. Although it was a sharp blade, these were still the strong ropes that Hans would use back in the day. It would take him more time than he let on to carve completely through them, and Hans knew that.

“You need someone who lives the same life that you do, that does not live the same life you do.” Hans made the motion to pour Skipper a glass of tea, despite the fact that he couldn’t reach his cup. It was just something to do. Something to ease his nerves, and Skipper knew that.

“I’m not saying this has to be me.”

Skipper stopped his carving.

“I know you don’t confide in your task force, or in those outside of it. You have a lot of stress in your field of work, Skipper. It’s not good for you.”

“You’re not my doctor, it’s never been a problem before, and who are you to care about any aspect of my well-being at all?”

“You’re repressed, paranoid, sleep-deprived, in love with Private, and are clearly coping with some kind of guilt complex.” Hans stated, brushing some hair out of his eyes.

“You’re right. I don’t care about your well-being all that much. I wouldn’t even say at all. But, you’re my enemy, and that’s what I’m supposed to do. Not care.”

He let out this large sigh, which hid the fact that at the mere mention of emotions that Skipper began carving at his ropes once more.

“But I do. What is Denmark if not a sign of that? You may have bigger bads with bigger ray guns and larger influence, but I do still believe we have something far more special. And I want that to mean something.”

“All I’m saying is that you deserve someone in your corner for once. If I can read all these things from only a few visits in these past few years, imagine what someone far more malicious could do with these things.”

“God, you got all that from “reading” me? More like you went to couple’s counseling.” Skipper snarked, but Hans heard the Freudian slip that came from “couple’s” counseling, instead of any other. He chose to ignore it in that moment. “I don’t need anyone else in my corner. I’ve got enough people to dry my eyes when I scrape my knee, thank you very much. I’ll deal with it on my own when it becomes an issue. There’s no reason to now.”

“When it becomes an issue?” Hans practically screamed before he began chuckling to himself. “Skipper, honey. You haven’t gotten a good night’s sleep in two weeks, you tried to attack the mailman but opened a letter filled with anthrax, and if Private so much as smiles at you you go into crisis. You’re dealing with everything now, but you’re not doing anything about it.”

“Yeah, uh, how did you know any of those things?”

“Don’t worry about it. There’s a point to all of this.”

“Which is?”

“I want you to talk to me. Talk to somebody. Anybody, about any of this. Sure, it may be your problem now when Private sends you into a state of cardiac arrest, but as soon as anybody else figures that out, it’ll be everybody’s problem.”

Skipper felt his cheeks growing hot. “You seem to be fixating on something.”

“Maybe so.” Hans shrugged, before taking another sip of his tea and rising from the table. He walked away from where the tea party was held to look out the window at the NYC skyline, as the sun began to rise. “I suppose we’ll always have Denmark.”

Skipper wanted to snark more, but this whole meeting put him on edge. This wasn’t the sickly sweet tea party where Hans would talk of friendish things in order to woo him back to how things used to be, nor was it the torture basement Skipper had almost been suspecting before he knew it was Hans. This was almost genuinely friendly, almost earnest. Not only was this strange to have to hear from someone who Skipper considered an enemy, but from anybody at all.

Kowalski may place a firm hand on his shoulder, or Private would say something reassuring and adorable, and Rico would always be the more unstable of the two of them, making him look well-adjusted by comparison, but nobody really tried confronting these issues that Skipper had. Maybe because they knew he’d turn it back on them, and having to cope with their rejection-related dysphorias or low self-esteem or other instabilities that dwelled within them was just too much.

But, Skipper was their leader. It wasn’t really talked about, but it was undeniable. He shouldn’t be having these interventions, much less asking for them. He held himself to a certain standard. Possibly an unreachable one, sure, but, that’s what everyone said about Everest.

“You have a lot of enemies, Skipper. And the enemy of my enemy is a friend of mine. A lot of them are willing to pay top billing for information on your weaknesses. Things I’ve found out so easily, things I know just by looking at you.”

Hans turned to face Skipper. “But, if you confide in me, I’d be willing to give out some false leads to send them chasing after their own tails.”

“Sure, so I’m just supposed to tell you every insecurity and expect you to not use it against me? Who in the world expects that?”

“Therapists do.” Hans shrugged. “Under the Hippocratic Oath, nothing you tell me could be shared with another living soul without me risking losing my license, and frankly, I think I’ve taken to therapy. I have an office and everything. I quite enjoy it, personally.”

“Alright, but what do you get out of it?” Skipper asked, ever so certain he’s gotten him up a tree.

“I’ll get to see you more often.” Hans smiled. “I can’t guarantee that I wouldn’t use what I’ve learned from these conversations in my own plots, but I’ve found that it’s an art of give and take. You’ll have a knife to my throat, I’ll have a knife to yours.”

“You’re really trying hard to make therapy appeal to me, huh.” Skipper processed. This whole meeting felt so circular to him.

“Of course. I did mention I worried about your well-being.” Hans said, as he walked behind Skipper’s chair to unite his ropes, mere minutes before Skipper’s incessant sawing would have finally snapped his ropes free.

“And I thought you said that enemies didn’t care about each other’s well-beings.”

“An enemy, an enemy, a frenemy of mine.” Hans smiled, in a sad sort of way. Not that it made Skipper feel anything, really. He did feel hungry. He wondered if Rico was putting bacon on the stove by now.

“At least think about it. It’s not very fun for me to play these games when I’m so aware of how easily I could break you.”

Skipper scowled at that, in a resentful sort of way.

“And I’m sure to wouldn’t be fun for you either if I fell apart on you either. There’s a delicate balance to these things, these games we all play, but they need maintenance.”

Skipper was finally freed from his bindings, and took a moment to soothe his wrists, which had been rubbed raw from all the sawing he had been doing to get out of this conversation.

“We should do this again some time.” Hans stuck his hand out for a handshake, eagerly. Skipper eyed it wearily.

“I’m sure we will.”

(I’m going to be real here, this was more supposed to be Hans confronting Skipper on his feelings for Private, because I love writing pining and I love writing this dynamic and whatever, but it clearly got away from me??? My bad. Hope you guys enjoyed anyhow!)

[disastrousjest]

Confessions of 2020..

(tw: covid mention, mental health mention)

I wanted to post a little something that might put out some insight for my followers, friends, mutuals alike. With the recent battle I had with some personal blogs attacking me over some posts I made because of the images, regardless of the purpose of the post. I just wanted to let everyone aware of why that sent me over the edge and why I handled it the way I did. Please note: I will not be apologizing for what I said, I do feel as though those that tried to reach out to me did not realize the purpose of the post. And while I understand now I should just tag things like that differently, I will not be apologizing for stating the fact that this is a rp  blog and I do not appreciate personal blogs attacking me over something like that. That being said, I will not be bullied off tumblr or this account. Because I love JJBA and Joseph Joestar. So for future reference, if you don’t like my content, unfollow it. Don’t bother sending me nasty remarks because I do not have the time for those types of things.  But I wanted to open the doorway to some insight for you all who have been paying attention or who just might care to know why I came off so incredibly outraged by that little bit. Because to me it was just the topping of a whole bunch of bullshit as is 2020.  This whole shithole of a year began in March. I got promoted at work to salary. That’s 35k a year my friends and that’s a hell of an upgrade for someone who barely makes a living wage right now and came from a working poor family. I really thought my life was gonna turn around. For once my fiance and I wouldn’t have to struggle so hard and we could afford to do everything we talked about doing. Well guess what--2 weeks after the announcement of my promotion my work place shut down because of Covid-19. Nothing new, lots of people and places were shut down. So fine, it pushed back my transfer and such. That wasn’t a big deal.  Enter June 2020. We re-open and my manager calls me into his office to talk to him about said mentioned promotion. They are suspending it, means it could be pushed back until we could lift the restrictions. Understandably so, I would just have to keep my old position, an hourly one, until they were called back. Now the months pass, June becomes July and enter August.  I find out about a week before the company announces it at the start of August, the position I was promoted to has been eliminated indefinitely. There is a chance they could come back, but right now they have no idea when or if that’ll happen. Which means that whole part of my department no longer exists at my place of work. I mean it’s a good thing I had my hourly position to fall back into or I’d lost my job. But that salary raise? Gone. 

Rewind back to July. I get very very VERY sick. And have to test for covid-19 the first time. Only because I am so sick and have a roommate with asthma I have to quarantine myself for 14 days. So 14 days I am locked in my bedroom alone, sleeping alone after 3 years of being with someone in bed. My meals are being left at the door for me and the only room I am allowed to enter is the bathroom, but only after it has been sanitized. Only for my results to come back negative. And now... we enter September 2020. Two major things started in September. The first, our old, senior dog became very ill. Started losing weight, wasn’t eating, losing hair, etc. So we knew his time was coming soon enough. Mid-September, I wake up one morning while our dog is dying mind you, and I cannot move my body from the waist down. Every time I tried, I’m greeted with a shot of pain straight up my spine that feels something like a hot poker being stabbed right through my spinal cord. Very very painful. I end up bed-ridden for a day or two because I cannot move. So once the pain subsides, I go see a chiropractor. Shocking (not really) announcement that my sway back--to which I was diagnosed with 10 years prior from a bad car accident--has gotten worse. What does  that mean exactly? Well--my spine bends in like a S for those who don’t know, which means my lower back dips inward deeper inside my body and my tail bone curves out. Now along that dip there are 3 or 4 vertebrae that are especially messed up. The bones have become staggered out of place on top of one another, just from the muscles pulling the bones out of shape since my spine doesn’t flex the way it’s supposed to anymore. (And it hasn’t for years). The pain before this was tolerable, it would ache from time to time but never like this. Now I am crippled more or less.  Here’s what that means: my mobility became extremely limited. At first in the am when I woke up I couldn’t move from the waist down for the first hour or two after I woke up. Then when I was finally able to move, I had to use my forearms to literally drag my lower body upright (still painful). Once I was able to manage that, I had to gage how strong my legs were to support my weight. And at first walking wasn’t terrible, but as the treatments began--doctor appointments, spinal adjustments, and physical therapy--to correct my spinal issue, nerve damage became clear. So now on top of this horrible pain, I had to deal with weak legs. Because of nerve damage, my right leg especially became weak. On days my back would hurt especially bad, my right knee would collapse out from under me. Which meant falling to the ground and not being able to stand up or walk for sometime there after.  Now imagine dealing with not being able to support your own body, not being able to hardly walk and your dog dying at the same time. So while I”m trying not to focus on the fact that my mobility is limiting me on what I can and can’t do, my fiance is upset about this. Our dog (then weighed about 100 or more pounds) could no longer walk either. His back legs and hips were giving out as his health declined. I did not have the strength in my own legs to help carry him because his weight hurt me too much and would cause me to collapse. I had to watch my fiance struggle with this practically all by herself while I sat on the floor, only able to use my arms to help with what I could because my legs and back were too weak to do the work.  This carried on into October. Our dog passes away and that alone is hard for me. I still kind of wonder if I wasn’t so weak when he got sick if I could have helped prolong his life just a little longer. I couldn’t hardly look at him when he passed and I couldn’t look at anyone else. I was very angry that my legs and back had failed me. They had failed everyone. So yes, that weight still lingers over me. It was so bad that when it came time to take turns digging his grave, I struggled with the shovel. Because I couldn’t stand up or be bent over to move the dirt, I got on my hands and knees and I took that shovel in my hands and used my arms and shoulders to dig. I wasn’t going to continue to be useless because of my limited mobility. I felt I already let him down and everyone else by not being able to help take care of him while he was still alive and sick. This was the least I could do.  November comes. Things are calm now, for a while. Not bad. I finally get some braces to help with my back issues (which still continue). I keep on with my physical therapy, trying to heal and help my fiance through her mourning over the dog. My mobility slowly begins to improve, though the doctor informs me it will be a very slow process. Small steps he says. But he is still confident he can fix my spine without back surgery so I can walk again, like a regular person. The limit I am able to stand and walk increases with the help of my braces and I begin taking herbal supplements and drinking herbal teas to increase the rate of my recovery. It seems to be working better than over the counter medication. The rest of 2020 seems promising.  Here comes December. On the night my fiance and I decide to go out on a date to celebrate our 5 years together. I get a phone call from work. One of my co-workers tested positive for Covid-19 and I was exposed. I am now suspended from work without pay until my test results come back negative. A real mood killer for the night. It gets better, we get home and despite the dinner being pretty somber the rest of the night seems fine. We watch movies and spend time together, finish wrapping gifts for Christmas. Then we realize the cat is missing. He’s been missing all day and all night. Nobody has seen him.  Two days prior, I had taken my cat to the vet because he was sick. Again, weight loss, losing hair, etc. I was worried he may be sick. Well it’s cold outside and here it’s been snowing so it’s very cold. I set something of mine outside and a literbox for smell. And then a plate of food. ....that was almost 4 days ago. There’s been not a sign of him. I called the county shelter and they didn’t have him. My fiance suggests he was sick so... maybe he got out of the house and went somewhere to die. My gut tells me he’s not coming back. And my heart is breaking, again. Again. I am wondering if I did something wrong. If I would have kept a better eye on him, I knew he wasn’t  feeling right. I somehow feel like I let him down.  And  then I logged into tumblr and saw those comments. Those asks people were sending about the damn images I posted for the 12 days to Christmas. And they just kept coming. I deleted the other ones, I stopped replying to them and finally just deleted the post. The Christmas spirit had been sucked out of me. I feel as though the world has began to mock me for believing the year could get better back in November. I know one thing, the holiday won’t be as bright this year. Not for me. I hope everyone stays safe and has a good holiday. Maybe 2021 will be more promising, but I”m not banking on it. Not anymore. Thanks for reading.  I hope you all understand now why I have been so slow with my replies lately. As my mood goes up and down because I have been struggling with the weight of all this and depression, just trying to hang on from losing hope that for one I will be able to walk again normally and then just the loss of my animals... everything. I can’t write and I refuse to send bad quality responses and starters for you all. I hope this puts some insight  on why I was so horribly upset the other day.   So thank you to all my friends and everyone who has been so patient with me on all my blogs. Jotaro (dmgdstar) and Johnny (rotatingstar) and this one of course. I will be catching up to everything very soon. I’ve already made a good dent in them.  Your patience is always appreciated. 

[theosmatters]

Are Atheists Smarter than Christians?

Aren’t Atheists generally smarter than Christians? Doesn’t it seem like the smart minded academics and scientists are Atheists and people of faith are not as intelligent? Culture could give us the idea that those of better intelligence do not have any belief in God, while people of lesser minds have a “God deficiency” in their brains.

Let’s begin by adding some qualifiers to the idea of being more intelligent. If we define intelligent to mean educational attainment level then there are some atheists who are more intelligent than some Christians. As an example Richard Dawkins, a very popular outspoken atheists and public debater against Christians and especially Creationist, is no doubt more intelligent than myself if we compare college degrees. Richard Dawkins has a PhD in biology and is a professor at an esteemed university in England. He can speak more intelligently than the average Christian about many things concerning biology. 

However, this is not the end of the story. Popular culture and media seems to have portrayed a false story about Atheists. In Western societies it seems taken for granted that Atheists are the real intellects of society. They are too intelligent, too big minded,  for any sort of belief in religion. However upon closer examination we find that in the matters of most importance Atheists are actually not more intelligent than Christians. This even applies to someone of the academic pedigree as Richard Dawkins.

What do I mean by saying Richard Dawkins is more intelligent than the average in certain areas especially biology? I mean he has achieved a higher educational level than many. Yet this is the really important question to ask, “Does this mean he is more qualified to know if God actually exists and if the universe evolved or was divinely created?” Certainly not! The problem atheists have is not one of academic intelligence, it is a problem of sin. They have traded away the intelligence of God for the intelligence of this world.

The Bible is not silent about this issue. The book of Proverbs is essentially teaching a person about how to be wise. Solomon begins the opening section of this book by explaining to us the first step to being a wise person. “The fear of the Lord is the beginning of knowledge…”(Proverbs 1:7, NKJV). Solomon is clear that for a person to truly gain knowledge, they must first acknowledge their need and reverence for the one true God. If a person is to truly gain wisdom, they must first be in a right relationship with God. Wisdom’s first lesson is, “Do you fear the Lord?” Without this first crucial step, all wisdom and knowledge that follows will be tainted with sin and incomplete without God.

Solomon finishes the verse this way, “But fools despise wisdom and instruction.” (NKJV). So a wise person fears God. Fear here does not mean to be afraid of God. Fear rather means a reverence and respect for God because of who He is and His powerful authority over our lives. However a fool despises wisdom. What does this mean? Solomon means that a foolish person is the one who does not acknowledge God’s authority over their lives. Therefore they shut themselves off to truly gaining wisdom.

This means that Richard Dawkins is highly intelligent by the world’s standards. However he is also very ignorant and by the Bible’s definition, a fool. How can both be true? Because the intelligence of this world is temporary and ironically it is limited when compared to the wisdom of God. 

Someone may ask, “How can an atheist like Richard Dawkins be so educated yet still not believe in God? Does this mean we Christians are wrong and since he is more educated in Biology we should accept what he says about evolution being true?” The Bible also addresses this.

The problem that someone like Richard Dawkins has is not a lack of enough evidence for God’s existence. The problem is that he has been so darkened in his heart and mind by sin that he refuses to accept the evidences of God right in front of his face. The Bible teaches that sin is not just when we do actions that go against God’s will, but it is a condition every person has due to the curse of Adam (Genesis 3). We come into this world sinners needing salvation, not saints who lost our way. The Bible teaches that one of the effects of sin on a person before they come to faith in Jesus is it causes spiritual blindness. 

Passages such as: John 3:1-20; 2 Corinthians 4:3-4; and Ephesians 2:1-3, 4:17-19 teach us that people with Jesus are blinded spiritually, bound to a sinful nature, and the results are a distorted and insufficient ability to think rightly about the world and God. Practically speaking, this means that atheists can be intelligent by the world’s standards but they are actually fools. The Bible refers to a fool as someone who refuses to acknowledge God. I want to stress again the word refuses. Paul teaches in Romans 1:18-32 that the problem with sinful mankind is not that God has hidden Himself. Rather sinful man suppress the truth about God with his own sinfulness. 

Richard Dawkins does not believe in God because he does not want to believe in God. Atheists who claim they are the more intelligent are actually saying they do not want to believe in God. Because once they believe in God’s existence then they become accountable to a higher Being for how they live their lives. Sinful people by nature run from God.

The pop-cultural notion that Atheists are more intelligent than Christians is certainly not true. Society pushes this idea because they want to make Christians feel stupid for believing in a God we have never seen like you can a person. But the Bible says creation speaks very loudly that God is real and exists. Historical evidence shows us Jesus truly lived and rose again. Atheists who claim they are too intelligent for believing in God are trying to give the impression that they have out grown beliefs in the supernatural. They claim that they believe science and facts, thus giving the impression that if you are a person of faith, then you are not a person of science and logic. It’s ironic though that the facts of science can change. What was once thought to be scientific fact 200 years ago has been discarded, or altered countless times. However the Word of God stands unchanged and never proven wrong.

Atheists who claim they are higher minded are deep down trying cover up their own guilt and provide an excuse for themselves to not be held accountable before holy God. Any God fearing Christian is honestly more intelligent than them because they: believe in God, have faith in Jesus, and stand on God’s Word (the Bible) as the source for truth. These are honestly the most reasonable beliefs to have when you look at the evidence. The Bible declares God’s truth and has never been proven wrong despite anyone’s claims to the contrary. Challenge anyone when they make these claims and ask them to back them up with proof. They will also fall upon their own sword if you press them to be consistent with their own belief system that their is no God. Their own worldview cannot hold up to its own weight. 

What is truly ironic is that Atheists who claim to be more intelligent than Christians have to borrow from the Christian worldview to make their anti-Christian claims. They steal from Christian philosophies and Biblical teachings to support their own claim that God does not exist.

Atheists are not more intelligent despite their claims. Their refusal to believe in God is not a sign of their intelligence, but rather is a sign of their sinfulness. God has made Himself clearly evident in various ways, but Atheists refuse to acknowledge Him. The Bible tells us sin has darkened mans’ understanding to think right about God. The Bible also tells us the intelligence of this world cannot compare to the intelligence God gives to His followers.

Do not buy into the false pop-cultural myth that Atheists have higher minds and higher intelligence. This is a great hoax to convince Christians to abandon their faith. Their are many intelligent and highly educated Christian scientists, doctors, lawyers, academics, and more. Do not let degree acronyms fool you into thinking that person must know what they are talking about if they say they don’t believe in God. All this means is that they are highly educated fools who refuse to bow the knee to their Creator who grants them the privilege to breathe the air He created to sustain their God-denying lives.

[spacemilkies]

pairing: arthur morgan x modern!reader

summary:

the one where dreams aren’t what you make them,

in fact, they’re quite irrevocably the opposite.

everyone talks about changing the past for a brighter future,

but what are you willing to gamble to make a difference?

l | lll

In a very short amount of time, you’d managed to exhaust yourself mentally and physically. It was becoming abundantly clear that dreams were not as flexible as many made them out to be.

After strain and stress, you tried aimlessly to will away your whims and not the slightest feature gave to your demands.

Somehow you remained in your state of dress and even more unfortunately, you’d been unable to strip a single garment from your cowboy.

It was becoming easier to swallow how this might just be a nightmare after all.

Likely the only thing you were going to be able to.

Clothed and apparently more time sensitive than you were, the man whom you’d come to appreciate by the scruff of his beard, was adamant on uprooting you further then just the floor.

You’d resisted at first when he wanted to lead you out of the house. It had only been a fleeting amount of time, or as best as you were able to reason, but it was your only comfort thus far.

It certainly beat risking whatever elements out there.

Your ‘savior’, as you liked to put lightly was beginning to show signs of irritation, however, as he pulled insistently at your joined hands.

And in a childish show of defiance, you leaned back in objection.

Feisty and annoying were clearly painted on a thin dividing line.

“Look, girl, I don’t have the time. I’ve got other people to look after.”

Bordering on hypothermic, there was little argument to be had that would be convincing on your part. But to not cry out against the prospect of galavanting off with a stranger would breach some sort of violation against nativity. Your core temperature had risen enough degrees to at least factor in some common sense.

“Where are you taking me?”

Even in your disagreement, he’d managed to get you near the threshold before answering. The slow drag of movement was almost preferable to the effort it would have taken to walk there properly.

His voice cracked under the fight against the elements,“A place like this is something we need. So I got to get back to them, to bring ‘em here.”

The spiral of possibilities were too endless got you to grasp coherently as you stood shaking under the weight of them all. With no control and little information, leaving your one ‘safe’ space didn’t feel like the most plausible strategy. 

“Wait- were coming right back? Why don’t I just stay-”

Before you could register why he was bending at the knee, he had an arm around yours and had you thrown over his shoulder in the next second. Your head complained louder than your voice as the hazy feeling complied to the weight of a bounder against your skull.

“Oh, god, I think I’m going to throw up.”

That was a lie. It felt as if you hadn’t eaten in days.

It was impossible not to admire his strength as he carried you almost effortlessly, the broad of his shoulder acting like adult heating pack. “We are in need of shelter and I don’t think you would survive long enough for me to return. So yes, we’ll be back.”

Your body sung uselessly as he made the first sunken step into the snow. Everything after that was a series of crunches as the little cabin began to distance itself. As it turned out, it wasn’t solely just a cabin. The further you were away, the more buildings began to appear until a small town of sort rose.

It somehow managed to look aged without necessary years to degrade. The wooden structures looked sturdy but it lacked the reinforcement you knew to be standard in most homes. Even wooden resorts. Not that this place seemed to be popular with the public.

It all begged the recurring question:

“Where are we?”

With a grunt, you were deposited on the back of a horse. Your hands immediately reached for the saddle to balance yourself as you instinctively kicked your leg over to properly straddle the mount. You missed the odd look you received as he situated himself comfortably into the seat in front of you.

All sensibility lost in the storm, you huddled close and squeeze the bareness of your legs as close to the center of heat as you could. His jacket was larger, the length billowing over you like a blanket but in this weather you would need much more.

Your unnamed cowboy waited until the horse fell into an even gallop before answering.

“Somewhere around Ambarino, we think. This wasn’t your destination then?”

Ambarino? 

You weren’t even sure what it was let alone find a reason why you’d somehow ended up here. Given the landscape, you were certainly further up north. The peaks of mountains could easily name a few states but you weren’t nearly comfortable enough to confidently place the town. Coming from a warmer more reasonable southern location, there was really only one you could recall from your childhood.

“Is this in Colorado? I mean I was young, but I came here once. Maybe this hallucination is a deeper psychological analysis or something.” you rambled, fully aware of how unhinged you sounded.

The man made it well clear how aware of his lack of understanding was.

“Girl, somethin’ ain’t right with you. I hope your mind thaws out soon.”

There was too much of a mutual agreeance with his diagnostic to be affronted. The disconnect was glaringly obvious yet you couldn’t grasp the tangibleness of it in order to prove your sanity.

As far as anything you could make clear of, it was just the scenic route of a dream you’d be lucky to remember by daybreak.

Despite its frosty script, it had certain charms that would be worth remembering in.

You’d heard of mountain men before. Read about their solidarity and gruff disposition. Of course in those novels, a young maiden often appeared on their doorstep and the two would warm themselves by the fire clothed in another by their skin and furs.

It was unlikely that a similar plot would pan out for you.

With a visible huff, you snuggled closer into his back comfort outside of the chaos of your mind. The biting wind was beginning to burn beyond the limits of what you could imagine. If it wasn’t for the nonsensical backdrop you would have began to consider that it might just not be a dream.

The sun was setting low on the horizon, but nothing had changed.

Where you had expected to see houses, roads and any sign of life,

you only discovered a continuing theme of snow, trees, some rocks and more snow.

You wanted to question the location more but instead another curiosity won out.

“I didn’t catch your name.”

He’d tried to remain quiet the ride thus far. Though part of it was likely due to his hesitance to inspire more madness from your lips. This was a question he seemed more amicable to respond to.

“Arthur. Arthur Morgan.”

You gave your name response, lip quirking when he mimicked it back in his own twang. It was … soothing. Like the warm scratch in just the right place.

You fell comfortably into it, time working heavily against the strength of your eyes as they sliding close. The unchecked weight against his back seemed to alert Arthur as he cut a concerned glance over his shoulder,

“I’m no doctor but I don’t think you should be sleepin’, ma’am.”

Maybe you laughed, the rumble sounded familiar in your throat as you rubbed your face into the cut of his leather.

“ I thought you were tired of hearing me speak nonsense?”

“Better than you being dead.”

There was no doubting the truth in the statement but it as becoming increasingly difficult to get your body to agree. The environment offered nothing stimulating. The sun was long gone and without it, both warmth and the light to make discernible images was gone. All that was left was the darkness of an abyss as you trotted further into it.

Perhaps this was the end and you’d finally wake up on the other side of the tunnel.

Who knows, maybe you’d continue you adventure with the mysterious Arthur Morgan another night.

Yawning around the thought, you settled comfortably into the admission.

You’re started when you feel an insistent pat on your thigh. You realize blankly how you register more of the impact than the way it knocks against the chill of your thigh.

“Hey now, stay with me, girl.”

You correct him with your name quietly but he hears it, latching on to the thin threads of your quick-temperedness.

“Hey, girl. Tell me. If you ain’t a prostitute, what are you and why were you dressed like that?”

If it was his plan to force you hand in defending your honor, you’d risen irritably to the challenge as you fought away the dreads of sleep.

“God, you really must enjoy a nice beating.”

His laugh is scratchy against the storm,” I’ve survived enough of ‘em.”

“Yeah, well you’re in for a life of them if you keep referring to women as sex workers. I’m a student, Arthur and I was sleeping off a hell of an exam which explains my state of dress.”

You were convinced he’d developed a tone of voice just for you. “Sleepin’ on the floor in the middle of winter in an old mining town … by yourself?”

With all the elements lined up- well, not that it made much sense from the beginning.

“Look, whenever I wake  up from this dream I promise you, Arthur Morgan, that I will book a very expensive appointment with a psychiatrist to work out my obvious issues.”

You can’t see how gave, but it’s okay, because you’re certain. That you can heat the collision of his brows. He hums something along the lines of sleep. The words are so cohesive with your own desires that it could impersonate a lullaby.

A sleep deprived smile, weak in the edges, curls your lips,“How old are you anyway, Arthur?”

All bundled it has hard to guess and the beard still blurred the lines but he didn’t seem like much of a gap.

“Thirty five.”

You squeeze tighter, knocking off the chill on your nose against the back of his neck. His body rolls in complaint but you’re attached too close to be batted away so easily. 

“Huh… maybe daddy issues will be a starting point,” you mused audibly.

“What was that?”

“You don’t want to know.”

Arthur may have called out but it’s lost to the static of the storm. You aren’t sure if it was intentional or not but the horse’s gait had been slowed to a choppy gait, the irritating bump with every step keeping you perfectly unbalanced the peak of unconsciousness.

You think you hear him call out to you again but the voice feels distant. Arthur shifts in your arms, and this time you know it’s his voice but it’s directed away. All at once the white noise collided with the cream of wood and the displeasure of horses treading through the snow.

The build up of frost takes a few blinks to flake away before take in the small caravan lumbering towards you. Arthur slowed to a halt, allowing them to roll closer. The familiarity of conversation makes it easy to assume this was the group he’d been determined to get to. 

“And who is this?”

Even at such a close proximity, its difficult to make out features of the man referring to you. If Arthur senses your apprehension it’s muted against the urgency of the new parameters as he carefully pries open the ring of your arms.

He vaguely explains your predicament as he guides you off the horse and carries you to the nearest wagon. Before you’re able to comprehend the newly familiar loss of his warmth, you’re immediately surrounded by limber hand ands as women tuck various clothing and blankets around you.

The voices rang from different pitches and tones, but you’re too exhausted to try and piece them into something explainable. They throw more questions at you than you have the answers to give.

“Honey, what are you wearin’?”

Too far to reach yet close enough to provide the presence of comfort, you position Arthur hovering near. “Let’s worry about that later. Get her warm.”

The most distinguished touch is that of hands weathered like leather from age. It gives the familiar prickle of a grandparent with the odd firmness of an ox as they try to tear away the comfort of Arthur’s coat.

You find yourself fighting back, clinging to the material for reasons other than warmth.

“Best you give this jacket back to Mr. Morgan, dear.”

When another answers in your stead, you decide that Arthur’s voice is like cinnamon when compared to others. A distinct spicy aftertaste to discern it from the others, and just enough warmth to bite away the chill of discomfort.

“That’s alrigh’, Karen. Let her keep it, I got somethin’ else to do the job.”

Everyone seemed concerned about- everything outside of your sluggish desire for sleep. They were unsatisfied with your tight lip, but weren’t able to give them what they wanted anyway. 

You only wanted one thing and at this point you were convinced that it would be the one remedy to solve it all.

Tucking your face into the pillow of wool, you sought it out from the one provider who help where needed. 

“Hey, Arthur, can I sleep now?”

You’d lost him in the chaos awhile back, but suddenly he was everywhere.

The voice in your ear.

The hands at your hearth.

The weight on your shoulders.

“Yeah, girl. Just make sure you wake up when I call.”

Notes: I don’t know why I spend so much time pregame but I do and regret it every time. But it only took two chapters this time so we’ll roll into the familiar storyline with the next one. Thank you so much for all the positive feedback. This chapter is a bit more slow paced but I want to build everything one piece at a time.

[rain0205-blog]

Terminal State

Summary:  She tried leaving, submerging herself in work to escape the horrors she had seen. The horrors she kept seeing. She never wanted to go back to that life. But when the Empire takes her home, she’s forced to face her past. Can she move on? Can she cope? Or will she require a bit of help? still bad at summaries, still working on it. ever so slightly more than slight AU gadioxoc

Bad Dreams

...

Gladiolus was restless throughout the night. He tried not to toss around too much and wake the others but every time he closed his eyes he was back in front of the Regalia, facing Ravus Nox Fleuret and failing at protecting Noctis. Ravus had the Prince by the throat while the Shield was forced to sit and watch. Anger welled up within him as his amber eyes analyzed everything around them. Gladio pushed down on the blade, startling his enemy and causing him to release the grip he had on the Prince. As the Shield stood in front of his charge he was ready to face off and win this time, but his weapon would not come to his hands. Ravus only smiled at the confusion and took that chance to strike. The blow delivered to him was massive, knocking him back into the car and leaving a huge dent in the door. The pain he felt in his abdomen at the contact of the arm was almost unbearable, the wind completely gone from him. Gladiolus stood hunched over as he put an arm on the wound, taking sharp breaths in as he glared at his enemy, however, the High Commander only laughed, the voice taunting his dreams.

A weak shield protects naught.

The scene before him disintegrated. Gladio was left with only Ravus as images began to form in front of his eyes. Iris in Lestallum, in the custody of the Empire. Faceless refugees were knelt down with her as the night sky plagued dark black clouds above him. Ravus stood over her with that evil smile of his as he held the tip of his blade under her chin. Gladiolus could only stand and watch as his sister wailed in fear at what could befall her. Her eyes were on him, pleading that he do something to save her, however, he couldn't move and his weapon would not come to his hands. The High Commander kept his hand steady, that cold stare boring into him the entire time. Gladio growled, finally able to break whatever chain was holding him still. He wouldn't make it in time, Ravus was ready to deliver the final, fatal blow.

"Gladdy!" she cried in fear.

"Stop! I'm Iris Amicitia!"

Gladiolus stopped in his tracks, looking toward the source of the familiar voice. He was faced with Athenacia walking toward them with a fierce determination. Ravus dropped his blade and began his trek to meet her as the Shield watched, unable to call out or stop this from happening. The High Commander was swift in his movements, slicing her neck on the right side. Blood gushed out and her scream of anguish filled his ears. When he was finally able to move, Ravus and Iris had disappeared, leaving Athenacia in the hands of Caligo. The blood no longer rushed from her neck, just formed a scar that ran down her collarbone and stopped just below the shoulder. That monster held her by the hair, blood dripping slowly down her left cheek as her eye swelled up completely black and purple. She looked the exact way Cor had found her that night, tears falling from her only good eye and there was nothing he could do to stop it, nothing he could do to save her.

A weak shield protects naught.

Gladiolus let out a heavy sigh as he rolled onto his back and put an arm underneath his head. The deep and even breaths of the others - and a soft snore - filled his ears while he kept his focus on the top of the tent. Ignis wasn't up yet which meant that it was still nighttime, harder to tell while under the canopy of the thicket. The Shield closed his eyes again, only to be back in that same scene once more and frowned at his own failure. There had to be something more he could do, something that would prove he was worthy to be the King's Shield because right now he was hardly a man clawing his way toward his duty, failing at every turn. The cold hard fact remained: he just wasn't strong enough.

Internally sighing, he gave up on sleep entirely at this point and carefully got up to exit the tent without managing to wake the others. The fire was still burning, having been fed most of the night and he wore another frown on his face when he encountered Athenacia still up and out of her tent. The girl was laying on her back beside the fire, staring distantly into the sky. It was clear she hadn't slept all night, nor the night previous. From this vantage point he could see her purple eye and the scabbed over cut on her cheek. Athenacia would forever wear that as a scar, another memento from the Empire special just for her - not that it tarnished his thoughts on her appearance. No, it only reminded him more of his failures as a sworn Shield. Okay, so she wasn't Noctis but he liked to think that she was his woman and he failed to protect her as well. Those injuries were there because she was protecting his own sister and many others. Athenacia was doing a job that she was roped into, while he failed at the very thing he was born to do. His father would never have let anything like this happen.

A weak shield protects naught.

The large man growled lowly at the words running through his head. It was then the doctor noticed him, frowning slightly at his appearance before bringing herself to sit up and face him. Gladiolus only forced himself a smile as he regarded her. The flaming hair was down, reaching her elbows as it flared out behind her and looked soft as it rested against her. The purple eye looked better, however, both her eyes were puffy and bloodshot with sleep deprivation. Her pale complexion was still evident, reflecting in the flames that bounced off her cheeks. Gladio was neutral about the change in her hair, having it long and a different colour. Currently he still couldn't even figure out how it had grown so fast, but what did he really know about girl's hair anyway? Walking over there on his bare feet, he took a seat beside her while she hugged her knees to her chest, not saying a word with her eyes back on the fire once he was settled. His amber gaze was also directed at the dancing flames, his right leg up and his forearm resting on the knee. The fire hissed and popped as it burned, reflecting its warmth upon them while they sat in silence, but not for long.

"Can't sleep?" she inquired lightly.

"No," he answered, his face hard at his own thoughts.

"Bad dreams," she stated, nodding in understanding.

"It's not that," he began to lie to her.

She snorted, "Gladio, I've been having nightmares for nearly six years. I know all the signs, I'm sort of an expert."

Gladiolus sighed, knowing she was right. He recalled when he would spend nights at her house and she would shake awake. Sometimes it was subtle, other times it was violent and he pretended not to notice, waiting as long as he could for her to fall back into slumber. Some nights she never would. Before the invasion, he noticed that it would get a little better, now it was worse than before. Athenacia never talked about it, probably never wanted to burden him. That girl was very independent when they first met and that hadn't changed in the slightest - though she had a big heart to become a doctor and care for people who probably never deserved it. Now she could see he was suffering the same plague she was. Anyone else wouldn't have even bothered to guess or ask about it. Gladiolus was mesmerized by the light of the flames but very aware of her presence next to him. There was no trace of their joking around like usual, the mood not calling for it. Athenacia was far too exhausted for that anyway and he wouldn't bother her like that. There was a time and place, and he couldn't lie to her about why he wasn't asleep right now, she saw it before he even sat down.

"Yeah," he admitted finally, "Bad dream."

"Thought so," she said lightly.

The Shield looked over at her once she began to move. Athenacia used her hands to push herself toward him, putting her body on the inside of his legs and leaning her back against his bare chest. Her soft red hair felt like silk against his skin as the back of her head was looking up into the sky and her forehead was just underneath his chin at his neck. Gladio wrapped his left arm around her tiny waist, letting his head fall against hers while she brought her right hand up and entangled her fingers into his massive left hand. That small gesture made him feel comforted, taking away his pain and most of his uncertainty. The girl didn't have the answer he needed, however, he was still happy that she was here in his time of need. Athenacia soothed him in a way that no other ever had before, all with simple gestures.

"Wanna talk about it?" she asked lightly.

Her eyes were still distant as she looked up into the sky. Gladiolus kept his gaze on the fire, letting his thoughts come to the surface but he kept his mouth shut, not even knowing where to begin or how to explain it. Besides, no one was even supposed to know he was hurting at all. Somehow she had seen right through it despite his best efforts to hide it from anyone. What's more, she didn't bring it up at all in front of anyone else and allowed him to lean on her for support. She didn't even force him into it, was just there in a way he didn't know he needed. Athenacia knew how to handle his inability to communicate his problems, all without his knowing it. She was good.

"You gonna talk about yours?" he asked.

She smiled, "No. But I can tell you one thing."

"What's that?"

"Bad dreams are often a reflection of one's inability to cope with a trauma in the past. The best way to get rid of them is to find a way to resolve the subconscious issue - if it can be remedied."

Gladiolus took in all of her words, keeping a thoughtful frown on his face. Athenacia was right about that, which made him wonder what sort of thing she was trying desperately to repress that manifested into nightmares. He could only assume that they were the horrors of war, things that one person obviously couldn't handle. The Shield didn't judge her for it, in fact, he was impressed that she had fought as long as she did despite the toll it took upon her. This girl had strength in a way that he could never imagine himself mastering at all and he admired her for it. Athenacia pushed her own issues aside to help him, who knew what sort of thoughts he interrupted when he had happened upon her just now. Her words helped him more than she realized while he thought about them carefully, knowing that there was nothing but truth in them. If he wanted to rest easy he would have to prove himself as the Sworn Shield. Only one thing came to mind and he knew of only one person that could get him there. Gladio would still have to do it alone, something that could cause him to lose his own life, but he wouldn't plan on dying and he couldn't go running off anyway, not at the present moment. Sighing internally, he pushed those thoughts from his mind.

"Then we'll both just suffer," he replied, nodding once at her.

"I suppose so," she agreed.

Athenacia moved her head to get a better look at him and he brought his gaze to meet her own, seeing a sad smile.

"But for now we'll do it together," her voice was light.

The look she was giving him nearly took his breath away. That calm hazel stare bore into him, almost as if she could see through to his soul. They both had completely different problems sleeping but she was offering herself to him. She really was his, even after all the crap that happened in between the city falling. It was just them right now, nothing else existed around their universe. The fire crackling and the river flowing were distant as they gazed at each other. All the teasing, the hurt feelings, everything set aside to reflect how she felt about him in one simple stare. Athenacia was here for him regardless of his failures, accepted who he was and truly did see the man underneath the Shield. Gladiolus gently placed his right hand on her cheek, guiding her lips to his own and rubbed his thumb over her cheek gently before kissing her forehead, holding her close to him.

"Just you and me, baby," he murmured into her ear, his eyes back to the flames with his intent look, "Just you and me."

...

Gladiolus opened his eyes slowly, not noticing that he managed to doze off but it was dreamless this time at least. Drawing in a deep breath, he brought his hand to rub his eyes. The large man smiled as he looked down, bringing his hand back to rest along the waist of the woman in front of him. Athenacia was unresponsive, breathing evenly as she slept. They were still in front of the dwindling fire, the sky above them getting a little lighter. Ignis would be up any minute, that he was sure of. Gladio rested a moment, taking in the sight before him. It had been a long time since he woke up like this: Athenacia was sleeping soundly, using his arm as a pillow. The tumbling mass of flaming red hair was pushed against his chest, stuck between her back and his body. Her legs were curled underneath her, hair all over her face as her arms hugged his in order to hold it in place while she slept. The Shield could only smile down at her, feeling the gentle way her chest rose and fell against his forearm. Carefully he moved her hair out of her face, tucking it away behind her ear, flipped the industrial so that the dragonfly shone and placed a gentle kiss on the top of her head before rolling onto his back.

His right arm was numb from not moving, he desperately needed it back. Gladio didn't want to wake her, knowing how little sleep she actually claimed, however, there was no help for it, he needed blood to flow through it. Rolling back, he brought his other heavily tattooed arm to wrap around her once more and carefully rolled her so that she was on her back. When he was about halfway she stirred, taking a deep breath before complying with his wishes on her own. Athenacia stretched herself out, her head still on his arm and one of her hands came to rest on the other around her waist, placing the left by her face. Gladiolus waited until she settled back into her sleep before gently removing one arm from her grasp and then using it to guide her head slowly onto the ground, freeing his numb one. The girl didn't react and he took that to be a good sign, rising from the ground and took a quick look around. No one was up yet, but it wouldn't be long before the early risers began to stir. The Shield made his way toward the river, wincing once the cool water hit his bare feet. His dream that initially led him outside of the tent earlier that night was still bothering him, however, there was no time to worry about it, he had a job to do. Bending over, he collected water in his hands before running it over his face. It woke up him a lot faster than sitting around and he needed to focus.

Meanwhile, Athenacia shook herself awake, thankfully not in a violent way this time. Immediately she noticed that she was cold, like the blanket of warmth she had drawn around her was gone entirely. That was how she felt right now, cold and deserted. Turning her head, she noted there was no longer a mountain of warmth at her back, just the cold, hard ground and she was sure that was not how she remembered falling asleep. Frowning, she looked around for Gladiolus, who she was certain had fallen asleep before her after they had sat down by the fire. There was no sign of him so she sat up slowly, rubbing her eyes and getting a better idea of what was around her. Her attention was drawn to the river, hearing splashing over there and she stood up, walking toward the edge of the haven. Smiling, Athenacia cocked her head to the side, getting a better look at the large man. The massive bird that occupied his entire back was very well detailed. Her eyes ran over the feathers that started at the tail and worked her way up toward the wings. They fanned out across his arms, stopping just short of his wrists. She knew the head of the bird came over his left shoulder to reside on his chest, watching every movement. The curve in the wing engulfed his other shoulder. It wasn't like she had never seen it before but it was a long time since she had the chance to admire it, to admire him. Her smile grew, an idea forming in her mind.

Gladiolus let out a sigh as the last of the water washed over him, moving to stand tall but nearly lost his footing, grunting as something hard collided with his back. The Shield was on one knee with his hand in the running water, relaxing once he realized there was no immediate threat to him or the others. Small arms were wrapped around his neck firmly but did not cut off his oxygen supply. There were also bare legs that came around his abdomen, holding on for dear life it seemed. The right foot had a very familiar tattoo of a tribal sun. Once he had steadied himself, he smirked. Gladio could feel Athenacia's face buried into the nape of his neck, her grip tightening once he was up and standing again. He brought his hand up to her arms, attempting to break them apart, however, her hold was firm, locked in place. Quickly he realized the only way to tear it open would be to break the bone and he wasn't going to do that. Amber hues moved down to her ankles, noting the same sort of situation. The large man reached back over one shoulder, finding the scabbed skin of the cut that was on her shoulder blade but abandoned that quickly, not wanting to agitate the wound and slow down the healing process. Instead, he went for the other shoulder, prodding his fingers around until he found a spot just underneath her torso that made her flinch and squeal. His grin grew as he again poked at that same spot, only causing her to cry in protest against his neck. Finally, her left arm jerked to protect that tender spot and he used that moment to swiftly capture it with his right hand, stopping her from initiating her hold once more. Now the ankles. Luckily that would be simple since her toes were highly ticklish. Clearly she had forgotten about that. It was quick, just a simple graze against them with his hand and her legs were down violently.

The sudden movement left his stance compromised and the water had shifted whatever was holding him in place. Gladio slipped, falling sideways and quickly pulled the woman he was holding so that she was against his chest, his hand sheltering her head from any impact; because as soon as he fell with her, the current carried them both down away from the haven. The Shield tensed as he felt himself hit by rocks and other obstacles in the water, however, he couldn't risk reaching out to stop them or Athenacia would be left unprotected. The man had to jerk his body accordingly as he rode it out until the very end. When they did finally reach some solid ground he rolled onto his back, relaxing his grip upon her. The sounds of her laughter made him grin, both of them thoroughly soaked to the bone but the chill of the water didn't seem to affect them at the moment. Gladiolus watched as she came into view above him, bringing her right arm to rest on the other side of his chest on the ground. Still giggling, her arms shoot as wet tendrils dripped onto his neck and obscured her face. He reached up with his right arm and carefully tucked away the hair behind her ear, leaving his hand to linger there as she mimicked his movements on her other side - only her hand went back to holding herself up after wiping water from her unblemished eye.

"Geeze, Doc, you tryin' to kill me?" he kept the grin on his face.

That only caused another fit of giggles to erupt from her. Athenacia looked down shyly a moment, biting her lip slightly before returned her hazel gaze toward him. He kept the back of his fingers underneath the left side of her chin, his thumb grazing against the scabbed cut on her cheek.

"Hi," was all she managed.

Gladio raised a brow and she began to laugh harder. It was infectious, as he could only chuckle while she struggled to catch her breath in between laughs. Pulling her down, he kissed her softly. Her giggling subsided but the bright smile remained on her face, noting her bottom lip shivered slightly as he kissed her again.

"Cold?" he asked.

"A bit," she replied.

The Shield smirked again, quickly grabbing her and turning so that he was now above her. Athenacia squealed in delight, laughing again as he held himself close to her. He captured those lips once more, his left hand beside her head as his right worked its way underneath her arm and held her left shoulder. Her left arm came around his neck as she held herself against him to deepen their kiss.

"I'll warm you up," he said with a wolfish smile.

His breath caught in his throat when he again watched those small white teeth claim her bottom lip. Her right hand had worked its way slowly down to the small of his back from his shoulder. The look in her eye told him that she was very happy with the service he was prepared to offer her, releasing her bottom lip and he took it, lowering himself so he could press his body against hers. Athenacia took in a deep breath through her nose as she pulled him closer, his lips travelling underneath her left ear, which caused small moans to erupt from her mouth. Gladio moved the straps down on her shoulder as he went further down, his hand firmly running the length of her body, grabbing her left rear cheek before his elbow collided gently with her knee when she lifted her leg in an attempt to pull him closer with her thigh. He was drunk with the scent that was her, of lilac with a hint of vanilla. The sounds of her soft moans in his ear only fueled him further, her hands urging him to continue. The man was getting so much closer to the wet skin of her breast, just finally reaching the top of the soft bump. The way she ground her hips into him was a huge distraction, managing to graze the top of his most sensitive flesh. His left hand was caressing whatever part of her face he could reach while he was resting on his forearm. Her fingers on his left shoulder blade dug into him with his every movement. He was about to pull away the clothing that hid her left breast, ready to capture it.

"If you two are quite finished your childish horseplay I could use your assistance!"

The voice of a very irritated Ignis stopped them dead in their tracks. Athenacia froze like a deer in headlights, her eyes shooting open in horror. Gladiolus grunted angrily, unhappy at how habit forming this seemed to become. Lifting his head from her shoulder, he shielded her body to help keep her modesty as his amber gaze met the stern look of his friend. Ignis did not look happy whatsoever at the way he found them. While Gladiolus felt that this was none of his business, his brain started to remind him of where they were and why this was inappropriate. Still, he didn't have to be happy about it. Ignis turned to walk away then, allowing them to regain their composure. Gladio pulled up the strap he had removed and lifted himself into a sitting position. He couldn't help but smile at her crimson face as she tried to fix her own embarrassment, rising to his feet and offering her a hand to help her up. Athenacia took it but kept her gaze downward. That was the way she looked the entire time they walked back to camp with her small hand in his own.

[iotaarcane]

XnationalZ

BUSY BLOW TORCHING DABS

Door doesn’t open it glides on rails like the entrance impales tracks leave scabs

They pick at them like a flurry of energy inertly imperil and in peril while sterile the enemy isn’t at his post busy blow torching dabs

Laughing gas to a mass of brain cells that might as well been in cell or for sale to sell for the fact of not being usable like loud theater patrons at musical

Stomping footsteps upsets the stairwell, Hercule as security

picks you up and while airborne you get the farewell.

A good bye of sorts a great try physically the body with a little help contorts but spiritually its dormant in hibernation protected in a fort.  The outside winds set him to the maximum miles per hour bumping over the welts.   Swelling is mainstream never go underground.  A golf club waving at lightning

A day filled with bad decisions.   A perfect life a nocturnal health freak who is slowing dying because of the hours he choose to sleep.  North of the sauna lives out of water a piranha gills with chankla….  Flip flop the hip hop to this mantra….   They got Bin Laden but the tomatoes slices cut au gratin and their insides just by general principal all rotten every good deed all but forgotten.

They attempted because it looked great on camera to have caughten Sadam but the madam of the ministry secretly had  many a body double dangling feet from noose corpse of course wasn’t who they thought they had bad DNA tests fail when not given. You’ll just straight believe without any thought or thinking in a closed space trying to identify who is stinking. This planet in that galaxy is sinking below where it once orbited and your whole existence is defined of what you afforded how toxins are absorbed y’all point the finger iota morbid.

As blood dripping on everything like a loop of hemoglobin training goblins to run tasks on apps.  Hairless ape with only a little fur missing - hand and the wrist  slice is still fresh magenta pink placenta veiny underwent chef prep,  impractical to prevent a story to end like this begin as it went, we muster the emotion to climb street curb like step, tentacle suction cup girlfriend tales like cotton swab on bunny ear manifesto.  One piece bikini transacting - posts no bill.  Open register the creditor turned into a collector, an editorial of breadwinner meanwhile back in the western hemisphere sky is too clear - cuts retina sundries colander fluid filter an array of enemies attacked the command post.  The mid morning foray angrily adjusted.  You could totally notice the moment the ward went kaleidoscope twist 33 degree.  As the crow fly viewpoint saw the west wing extend and to what seems like an elbow bend but they aint drinking consuming much of nothing except orders from the chief who dictates the whereabouts and you gotta be down cannot have doubts they don’t come in shouts - illest hand signals in the game it’s an artistic beauty to see the tic for tac counterattack he who gets the most vagina must be the Mack.  Diesel easel drawer no undies they were left in dresser drawer and if it don’t work out oh no the lawyer is not pro bono yet the retainer fixed the teeth apprehended the beef no more issues.

Him whose piss poor planning continues will be facing the sultry seductress Miss Hughes 4 feet 6 shoes opposite of the elephant of Hindus infamous for the pop ins on miscues So real was breakfast cereal mammal sauce from cashews.   Nipple hula hoop sports car aficionado drop top in the coupe where they kept the chickens.   Jumpy trampoline mouth fortune reader foreseen vulgar obscene potty lips unclean that contingency of the attorney of where wonder land on a poca dot which marks the spot.  Accuracy solar hot, lift off broke apart space shuttle heat pads over hot not matter if they were chosen or not.  Nudity not as bad as could be frontal, wide opening little exit funnel so many come backs you can’t shoot down every rebuttal.  We double as secret agents where birds are fowl and flagrant evil as the vortex in control of this spaceship.  I got it plannded see use that ladder granted to climb into the zoo – carefully pinpoint were from the top we landed snag a handful thus huck right between their eyes candid close to the nose as possible rancid so they go crazy - ape shit

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++NOTHING and LIKE it

You’ll get nothing and like it. No matter how much you despite it.

Like you wanted that new whip but you were too good for the bus so you bike it. 

Like it ever mattered – your best bud did the same inebriated on the way home dump truck made him splattered we identified the body basically because only thing left the t-shirt he wore that night tattered.   I want a hamburger – with a vegan patty in the current state of Armageddon it doesn’t look good brethren Xnational that’s why I rock the same hairdo as a Tibetan.  No a cheese burger yall overreacting on this meat is murder so is a relentless ethic of work especially when exhausted and it hurt. We’ve been threatened by a heavy weapon.  I was reading about Reagan and outline seems Pagan that’s as good for you as dippin Copenhagen spittin telling the surgeon do not beckon the question I love when my gummies are redden.  Cancer of the embouchure is more than a Horoscope sign I concur.   I want a hot dog.  Smothered in mustard covered in meat trimmings ground up chemicals as the fixings.  Bought my rhymes with a great bargain from Groupon.  Even added a discount photoshopped counterfeit coupon. Creating to the beat the loops on.  I don’t know is a Bentley a Rolls Royce because in the back seat the window lowered and I was offered grey poupon do you happen to have another choice.  Already had condiments on my weenie.  Get off my computer don’t you dare peep my documents.  My sentiments exactly the conference in regards to arguments approximates Many inter-nationalities at least 3 continents. Ancestor occupants with these words I’m a biochemist marketing guerrillas in the midst of this mist.  We the tapestry of ornaments via the internets correspondents it’s like I’m studied on my own no paperwork to show my doctorate of rocking it.  I want a milkshake mixed extra thick so it actually improves my life.  Massacre in the streets.  Soul gets fasten to the beats.  Emotion in a drum pattern.  Puts the spirit at ease changes lives makes memories.  We reminisce lacking candor look back in retrospect kinesis situational intensity convince myths as the centripetal force drifts making you cause conflicts with the dame you caressed whose early departure has you dismissed flailing arms is a fit temper tantrum get nothing and like it anthem in this for the marathon and beyond whereupon such a large portion of our population is related to Genghis Khan.  What was going on?  Mating a savage motivation bondage of ancestral astral projections.  In a succession of going with aggression. Talking too much now I’m a witness to this confession.  I didn’t want to know that nor should you want to share it - in your heart bear with it. I need to check up on what era that was. I want potato chips crisper than a whisper in a dark room embracing solitude twiddling a whisker brisker than podcast radio transistor, he was very bad only did one movie but he was a fister, turned that lifestyle around and became a wonderful listener, except after he kissed her, she fiddled his zipper, polished half handle of liquor, hand cuffs cutoff circulation like a prisoner, as she moved towards his waistline she announced OK noodle, his phone screen lit up he couldn’t get up - his unit wouldn’t get up, Here is the kicker, she addressed yours is so much pinker, than red shade of a swisher, Oh yes it is sir right when she was about to go to town cell phone screen with the rear camera face down accessed a video Oh yes Mister Fisher.  Vid featuring a debutante with oily wrist smash grab a sphincter.   Homegirl peeped it out the corner of her eye.  Jeez Louise Guy, you think she liked it, those are screams of terror why did you video tape and mic it?  Payback is real He said no no stop she said you will get nothing and like it.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Bloop Didn't Match Bleep

Flat line monitor they filed with the manufacturer to get truth because bloop didn’t match bleep

Was she dead or deep asleep it takes a large leap of courage to surpass milestones when laid out flat on  back thick as a board bright as feather totally do laps passing my stone counting per mile our style lashes out flashes of the bang - boom go sky.  They hope when it’s over something changes dramatically like a star fall macho man bar brawl telekinetic script to anyone one whom you bonded importance of existence is something you cannot deny.  

Fly by the seat of pants, advance like cash flow, difficult to rap slow, I wanna run it like you need it get roller pinned and kneaded, Hebrew jui-jitsu submission look at what his knee did.  Star of David on his playlist we turning off tech on Satur no matter bribery or how you flatter your condolences belated along with ski masks raided should of seen them coming the porch was shaded driveway isolated doctrine confirmed over something we traded urine peptide beaker foggy but perplex this –  His best amigo did too much acid like amino so when he was at cathouse heard a whore moan he could only cognate behavior to influence mood balanced hormone as the counterpoint feline payment never transacted fee to wait in line.   What skill or excellences are you pursuing how can you portray without any cueing.  Hit your marks.  Spit in pitch black fire mouth out sparks.  

It’s your energy that relay tend to take opposition and sway.  Assists their dishin’ drug addicts spinning to get spun on a mission in addition to addiction they act like they don’t lie this is no audition you’re grown why you want permission to ruin your life You see in LA a Bruin cub a forty niner in Long Beach data gets scrubbed unit information placed out of reach.   Look what the cat drug in, breeze blew in you could have been somebody a shoo in.  Migrated to Peru in a mobile pyramid amongst doubters, its like the shouters are first with inside out lower lip pouters claim to be ballers all they are is browsers knickerbockers shirtless with trousers waving a give me a freebie voucher so I roll with moon howlers now does this overwhelm like towers stimulates give us powers of the third kind and our encounters.  

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Gun Laws

-  No fun wit dem laws especially when encountering rough edges grainy surface with gun laws

-  The cause is mass hysteria because amendments put both sides into a predicament

-  Wing of the Eagle into action Xnational Activist after a sour apple up spring the people Active Fist raised above the forehead concurrently nobody wants more dead.

-  Not even the gunman but what about that run in my states Capitol Sacramento

-  Odd… Cell phone is not a weapon 20 trigger pulls the Police can act like a beast, On tempo protest Florida mad man rampaged blood everywhere escorted in handcuffs away facial expression wonder struck departed campus quad

-  Dem our rights in dat bill but that bill was proclaimed before our land fell ill Overdose of fluoride oxygen intoxicants horrible supplements processed food and diabetes from too much sugar in condiments

-  Now to fix your country don’t be chicken like poultry spend love to arrange a redeeming elixir

- This is precise calculation when you are overcrowded too many people in population the hypertension trying to keep up with what you commercially demonstrating sort of like an exchange of demon trading evil for evil soul grasp tool sickle--- Concise to arbitration overcrowded too many people in population the hypertension trying to keep up with what you commercially demonstrating sort of like is regal viper fang retention seek help contemplating like gleaming shovel off moonshine fickle.  

-  Everything even your status is the status materialism is the apparatus zero the sum on the abacus but yet the ability to function not be bullied or tempted to destroy yourself or others can be uncontrollable

-  Mental health doesn’t have a look so why they judge based on the cover texture ink print of book

-  No civilian needs an automatic machine gun.  Home protection can be accomplished with 20 gauge is plenty.  

- There are more guns in the US than people.  So agree with March for our lives.  I disagree with anything I’m not feeling and if we all could be a Democracy and meet in the middle we all should be fine with the compromise.

- First person liver body organ problem corking, ostrich keeping dome piece dipped into land chunks hoping not to get things out of proportion

-  News was sidetracked Porn Star had protection less sex with President along with a dry cleaner hanger abortion clinic minute men attacking those who look immigrated

- It’s a circle of blood you been initiated.  We do not exist in a dystopia but these large organizations can paint whatever portrait they want to fit into an agenda

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++You Can Be Anything

You are where you at in fact you could go where you want to be and you can be anything

So easy to feel like nothing complain and become doubtful with a mouthful of evil they walk in a horrible path of negativity and self-destruction same time place continuum hurting others while they just trying to get through the same as you do.  What is this reasoning?  Who created the outline?  Why if I don’t play ball can’t I get a pass down on the baseline? Appeasing you either got to be a mover and shaker or to the sideline your thrown and labeled a space waster.  Money identifies so much.  Status class how your friends and family eat continuous and fast.  Totally empty posthumous till those on top of the power structure find those beneath humorous.  Better teeth greater smile success is subjective.  I took the elective to be me why don’t you be you. Underneath all the bogus ideas and understandings  I breathe near the 14th of the month only to inhale and not exhale for another 30.  If you do business justified you can really be wealthy if you lied play dirty. Landing around the 5th I derail in a matter of moments look sick and pale living again for less than allowed.  Now the natural lines in my face is  scowled. I want to be an xnational not into whats in or rational I’ve never admired reality TV or what is force fed to me. The world is very fluid with whats not allowed how you make your bread and weather you get a box or become dust when dead.  They never said it would be like this but they never stated it wouldn’t or couldn’t I’m tired of the chosen getting a vote I never balloted giving me basically 2 options on major decisions unanimously untalented more than perfected for the future while living slithering past the masses until something so major happens to a loved one a ugly ungloved one frozen in the headline archived content someplace indefinite it is about time.  Dig through scorched Earth.   Charred ground far fewer giblets in the stew to see self in mirror the spoon is wooden and sipping left a splinter too difficult to survive this nuclear winter.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++To Get Bye

Chatted with an annoying carcass inverted in Caracas on an apparatus and we agreed about this

You’re all I need to get buy

-  The voice don’t know but like a bass line I record in mono Remember before I kissed a girl I got mononucleosis and this in general gave me a neurosis if I haven’t kissed how the heck did I get mono

-  Punctuality arriving pronto seconds click nimble with the fingertips pulling a combo characterized in metabolic state ketosis

-  Fasting near or around roses favorite floral Lotus.  To get by stay fly no aeronautics my aerobics consists of verbal trampoline pounce the guardrail carine upon the jet strip Don’t Trip.

-  Landing gear engaged to get by clearance from the air traffic controller, just this style is me high roller tip toeing soldier avoiding ebola maintain employment meeting or exceeding quota.

-  To get buy you need straight cash homie loads and loaves of bread cheddar or whatever Hamilton greenbacks, paper guap of franklin will do

-  To get by Your Blessing will be thee necessity sky beautiful.   Open heart to keep it plain and simple more than the crease unfolding the ripple

-  To get by clean water fresh air healthy food the ability to create mobility infinitely friends family meditation agility stretching.

-  Concept of these scriptures stacks all the to the back of literature willingness be the finesse all this and that’s success

-  To get by why try easier to complain make it artificial cause others through the tidal waves stress and strain

- Sitting on your knees sneaker heels tap the back of your button ups Long Barrel at temple.  Imagine the thoughts before you’re executed.   That process of it’s over.  Can you fanaggle?   Use communication for survival last chance come at them sideways like a tooth that snaggle

-  This snag will either end your current existence begin into a newish dimension an entrance how did these doors swing open? Never let them see you moping. Laugh in the face danger many elements to this for coping.

-   Change is a guarantee and you can’t get much of anything so constant.  Who can adapt the fastest?   Chip up as soon as society is cashless.  Global position the system while mapless.  I’m going to flow more rap less.

-  Concubine colorful sword edge dull, The Ktown market I copped it at in the China shop bull.     Tea party porcelain porcupine alarm module.

-  iota needs some soda caramel color cola so the bubbles can fix my upset tummy stay scummy my friend is a sin and not funny Lowest on totem pole that explains the mischievous grin

-  Never find work attitude be the jerk stay going bizerk at the store with the clerk make it impossible for them to accomplish the mish undertone a smirk relentless and abscessed until they fail find out it all evolved from silly little games your repercussions wrong answer given to test

-   Well rounded knew how art felt, Chemicals were spilt and the fumes of the 2nd story would melt.  Heartfelt never dealt a hand like that patience is all precious up til you are the doctors patients and he truly evil terrorize a boll weevil wore wild long tail lab coat crazy colors of crayon except no cotton all rayon and he would lay on the guilt deprive of medication till the truly ugly wanted to be killed subconsciously the whispers You’re all I need to get by…..

[glasgowgirl92-blog]

Lullaby

So, we needed fluff and this was bouncing around in my head before @queseraone and @halsteadpd started talking about stuff and well this is what we’ve got. Chapter 3 of the Linstead Playlist and this is my secret little song that I’ve been keeping in my backpocket for times like this. This, ladies and gents, is called Lullaby by a band called The Dixie Chicks, and it makes my heart melt when I hear it. This chapter is ever so slightly AU and as always, songs suggestions, prompts and reviews make me a super happy human.

Happy Weekend!

They didn't have you where I come from Never knew the best was yet to come Life began when I saw your face And I hear your laugh like a serenade

Erin wasn’t quite sure how she’d managed to get here. Well. She knew how she’d gotten here and if she didn’t then she really would be in trouble. She just didn’t know how she’d managed to find her way to this moment; after all the wrong turns and turning on her heels and running back down the way she’d came. It was almost surreal to find herself in a space she never thought she would be, living a life she didn’t deserve but had always wanted.

The apartment had indeed gained that 65 inch plasma, the install guy had been an artiste. It was her one concession to Jay in the room, the damn TV and Erin had to admit, The Real Housewives did look better on that screen. It was her one guilty pleasure that only Jay knew about and even he’d laughed himself into a heap on the floor when he came home from an overtime shift to find her watching it. She’d scowled at him as he had doubled over and then fallen to his knees, eventually rolling onto his back with an arm thrown over his eyes, face red with laughter and wet from the tears. Erin had sworn him to secrecy on pain of death and when he’d calmed down he’d shrugged and simply reiterated what he’d said when she mentioned the pillow thing – Do your thing babe.

The memory brought a smile to her face as she sighed, turning to nuzzle his shoulder as he rested on the sofa, the lamp the only thing illuminating the space.

“I still don’t even understand why you’re here.” Erin stated softly, turning to look up at his tired face.

“You’re up, I’m up.” Jay had replied, voice husky, not even meeting her gaze.

“Jay, there’s no need for you to be up right now.” Erin had whispered back, kissing his shoulder when a small spark of hurt flickered in his eyes before she added “It’s a feed. We don’t have any bottles left, so there’s really nothing you can do. It has to be me.”

“I can burp her.” Jay told her softly, eyes still locked on the bundle quietly feeding in Erin’s arms. He had the same stupid look on his face every time he looked at his daughter. “Besides, we both know Millie prefers me to rock her to sleep, don’t we Mills?” he asked, reaching out to stroke her cheek causing Erin to huff.

“That’s because she’s some kind of thrill seeker and you’re essentially a ride at Universal.”

“So?” Jay asked, pressing a kiss to Erin’s cheek as she settled back against him, her back to his chest, leaving him room to rest his arm on the back of the sofa, this thumb rubbing his daughter’s head.

Erin laughed, watching as their daughter’s eyes began to drift closed at the soft touch of Jay’s thumb on her forehead, knowing the feeling well. It had become close to the only way she could fall asleep while she was pregnant, having Jay stroke her head like that as she curled into him, pillows be damned.

“If she falls asleep, you’re sitting up with her.” Erin told him on a yawn. It wasn’t even a threat, it wasn’t something Jay wouldn’t willingly do. In fact, any time after sleep time? He’d already signed up for all of it and carried it out, multiple times since Camille Marie Halstead, the tiniest little human being they’d ever met, came into their lives screaming at the top of her tiny lungs, making more noise than anything that size ever should, at 4am on the fourth of goddamned July. Jay had joked about calling her freedom, or Justice or Liberty or America or a plethora of ridiculous patriotic names that he could think of when the doctor had told them the due date.

As Erin’s gaze wandered between them both, she couldn’t deny the absolute bond they had between them. Tiny human and huge badass dude. A match made in heaven. Jay pressed a kiss against Erin’s temple and muttered something about threatening him with a goodtime, but his words were muffled with a yawn and into her hair, but she knew it was a smartass remark.

Millie began to wriggle in Erin’s arms, turning her head away from Erin’s chest, signalling she’d had enough now and she was full. Maybe. The kid had her dad’s appetite and she was apparently never full.

“My turn,” Jay spoke and Erin could hear the grin in his stupid smug voice, but she couldn’t deny the way her heart melted when he moved from behind her to his knees on the carpet, a towel already over his bare shoulder, and took the precious little bundle of sheer joy into his arms, resting her against his shoulder as he fluidly got to his feet and began to walk with her, rubbing her back as he made his way into the kitchen and Erin heard the kettle flick on.

She began to fix her shirt, going in search of the pump while Jay went about his own routine of making her a cup of herbal tea as he told Millie stories about all the great things she would do when she grew up. Tonight, Millie was going to be the President of the United States and she was going to make it illegal for messy woman not to have an organisational system for the bathroom.

Within three quarters of an hour, Erin was halfway to falling asleep as she perched herself on the edge of the bed, waiting for Jay to come back in. Millie had been sick all the way down his back, missing half the towel and getting his sweats despite how low they had sat on his hips. Which had meant his routine had been thrown off by a good ten minutes; given that he usually sterilized bottles and made sure that the place was locked again before coming to bed. Erin watched the steady rise and fall of Millie’s chest, the way her little eyes flicked back and forth beneath the lids, the tiny parting of her tiny lips and the cute little waffling noise she made every so often. The first time she’d made that noise, both Jay and Erin had put in a panicked call to Will and Natalie, and then taken her for a check-up the next day just to be sure she was alright, neither sleeping until she had gotten the all clear.

Erin felt the bed dip behind her but didn’t turn around, transfixed on the baby in the crib at her side of the bed. Jay’s legs soon bracketed her own, strong arms encircling her waist, pulling her against him as he pressed a kiss against her temple again. Her breathing soon matched his, a steady rise and fall, soothing, comforting and she laced her fingers with his, content to sit here and absorb his quiet strength at 4am knowing that he’d come back to bed more as a courtesy to get her to sleep and not actually get much meaningful sleep of his own.

“It’s paperwork day,” Jay told her, his thumb stroking over her hand with the same tenderness he had their daughter’s head. “So, I should be able to get home early. Maybe we could go out for food. You know, as a family.” The suggestion was made softly and Erin knew if she had been looking at him, his gaze wouldn’t have met hers.  In the four months since Millie had made her appearance, Erin could count on one hand the amount of times they’d actually managed to eat a meal together, much less leave the house and eat out. It had been a huge adjustment for them, becoming parents and Erin taking time off work to be a mom and she knew Jay struggled to balance being the cop that the Intelligence Unit needed him to be and the partner and father that he had to be for Erin and Millie. The Unit had banded together, helped them out when they could, but it had still been a culture shock.

It wasn’t just timing issues either, it was the fact that the only time either one of them could sleep is if the other was there to look after the baby, and Erin always felt guilty that Jay would be the one to get up most nights, given the fact he was the one who was working all day. She sensed the apprehension coming off him in waves, a small smirk on her lips when he tucked his forehead against her neck because if he brought his hands near his hairline she’d know he was up to something.

“I’d like that.” She found herself saying, more surprised to find that it was true. The thought of going out to some small diner as a family really did make her grin and she turned to look at him; that sentimental part of her falling desperately in love with him all over again at the prospect of putting on makeup and something that wasn’t his shirts to head out for food.

“I love you,” Erin told him as she turned in his arms, causing the smile she never knew she needed to see to light up his face in the moonlit room.

“That’s only because I’m feeding you.” He deadpanned, his tone completely contradicted by the grin. She swatted at him and turned into his arms fully, allowing him to flip her gently onto her back, her hands clamping over both of their mouths as Millie made a noise akin to a whimper, but her breathing evened out as they stared at each other in silence, sighing against Erin’s palms when it was clear that the baby was going to continue to sleep.

Jay rolled onto his side of the bed, pulling Erin into his arms with him, and pressing a kiss atop of her head. “I do love you, you know that, right?” he enquired as he arranged the blankets around his partner, taking her hand and bringing it to his lips to press a kiss to her knuckles.

“Of course I do,” Erin told him, propping herself up so she could rest her chin on his chest, his skin cool to the touch in the Chicago fall. “I’ve never doubted that. Not once.”

The silence that fell was weighted as she watched every scenario pass through Jay’s features. Not once; not since she found out he was married, not since he left and moved in with Will, not since she left for New York, not since it took a case to take him to New York with SVU for them to work together again, not since she left him in his hotel room only to call him four months later with the bombshell that they were going to be parents but it was okay because she could do it on her own. The only decision that had been to make was would the baby be born in Chicago or New York and where they were going to live.

She’d never doubted he loved her from the second that he’d broken down in front of her, laying bare his demons and his fears over the impending birth of the child and if he’d turn out like his dad had. She’d never doubted that he’d loved her through every single bump in the road.

“When did you know?” he asked eventually, tilting his head to look at her, so many other questions swirling around in his mind, but that was the only one he could get out.

“When did I know you loved me?” Erin asked, and then gave a shrug at Jay’s affirmative nod. “Since you never gave up on my sorry ass when I took my sabbatical. You never once gave me any reason to doubt you; it was baby steps, and it didn’t matter that it took months, you waited. No-one has ever done that for me before; so I figured I was either that good in bed, or it was more than that.”

“I am absolutely not complaining about your bedroom skill set.” Jay chuckled, lifting his hand to comb through her hair. “But I think I loved you before all that.” He said, his voice unsure, as though he was saying the words for the first time and only realizing they were true. “I think I loved you when you broke it off with me for the unit.” He stated, a frown on his face. “It’s how I’ve always known you actually felt something for me. You back away from it. Usually.”

It was Erin who chuckled, “You knew I loved you because I ended the relationship?” she asked, leaning into his touch, knowing if she rested her head back down on his chest that she’d be out in seconds.

“Yeah; you’ve always been terrified of hurting the people you love, so you put in the distance. That’s when I realized that I was one of those people. You kept running, but you’d always come through for me when I needed you to be there.” Jay shrugged and gave her a small smile. “You’ve never once shown me that you’d never be there when I needed you, we just had to figure it out. We took the longest damn road, but we got here.”

“Yeah, we did.” Erin nodded, turning her head to the crib to look at their tiny little human. “you know, growing up? Having a kid was something that happened by accident. It wasn’t something that was planned or romanticised.” Erin laughed again when Jay raised an eyebrow at her, almost a yes, because Millie was planned look. “You know what I mean. Kids were a result of too much of something and not enough common sense. No-one had kids out of love.”

There was a pause, long enough for Jay to move his pillow to support his head better, allowing him to run a hand up and down Erin’s arm as well as through her hair. She adored his touch. It always calmed her, she always sought his warmth whenever she was afraid or hurting, or angry because he knew how to soothe her, which is maybe why she was able to talk right there and then, about the way she was raised.

“I used to hear the old ladies in the store or the kids in my class when I moved in with Voight and Camille talk about having a kid as this romanticized thing; half you and half the person you love. How creating this tiny human was this miracle and special and born out of love that two people had for each other and I never really thought about it until I found out I was pregnant.” Erin’s voice was raspier than usual, thick with emotion. Her eyes shining with tears and almost instantly Jay was holding her to him, kissing her hair and whispering reassurances against the thick strands.  

This wasn’t something that Erin Lindsey had ever thought she’d have. Not only did she have her own little miracle in Millie, she also had the love of a good man. A man she never felt like she deserved. The kind of man who treated you nice because he wanted to, not because he felt like he had to or he wanted something in return. She had the love of a man, and loved a man, who had stepped on up when he told him about the baby, who had offered to relocate to New York to help her. A man who willingly took overtime, working a stupid amount of hours, only to come home and clean up the apartment, cooking food for her so she wouldn’t have to and making sure she was comfortable.

The last thing Erin Lindsey thought about before she fell asleep, lulled into her dreams by the steady rise and fall of his chest, the steady beat of his heart; was how proud she was to wear his mother’s ring, to be here with him and Millie and how much she was looking forward to the rest of her life for the first time in a long time.

 How long do you wanna be loved, is forever enough? ‘Cause I’m never ever giving you up.