#being nearly thrown into a panic attack at work was like. the biggest reason why I haven’t said anything bout it

[squuote]

pondering if I should return to twitter yet or not but maybe I’ll stay off one more day..

[lebenspurpur]

hi! i’m not sure if you’ve already done this or if it’d make you uncomfortable, but could i please possibly request the slashers with their s/o on their period? like how they’d act about it or what they’d do for their s/o? annnnnd maybe some nsfw if you’re okay with it? thank you so much, make sure you’re not overworking yourself and you’re taking care! ❤️

Thank you! You take care as well, get some water, a snack, grab a blanket and enjoy :)

Slashers with their s/o on their period:

Warnings: undetailed NSFW, blood duh, not proofread oof (my god I never do, do I?)

Michael Myers

SFW

Michael doesn't give a shit. This is your problem, not his.

If you're really in pain during that time of the month, he'll get more aware.

He surprisingly doesn't want you to feel pain, doesn't matter because of what.

Now he wants to stop the pain but he doesn't know how. You have to initiate any kind of physical contact.

After you show him how he might heat up a hot water bottle every now and then and worldlessly place it on your stomach.

If he's feeling soft, he'll place his big, warm hands on your belly when he hugs from behind.

He really tries to make you feel better though if you don't feel any pain, he doesn't see any reason to.

NSFW

Michael adores period sex. It adds to his natural desire for blood. In a way, it gets him hornier than normal sex.

He's probably the most unafraid slasher too. Michael loves your blood, no matter where it comes from.

Michael's pretty dangerous when it comes to sex though, so if you're in pain tell him, because he won't stop while you're at it.

He loves to go down on you. That might be disgusting to some, but to him, the taste of your blood mixed with your juices is the best thing on earth. And imagine him glancing up to you, eyes heavily lidded and chin covered in the red substance.

Vincent Sinclair

SFW

Vincent is the absolute sweetest when it comes to your special time of the month.

He knows exactly when it is since he wrote it in his calendar and on the day you start, he'll have pads or tampons ready for you.

Vincent gets Lester to go buy you snacks and he forces Bo to stop being annoying. At the end that's useless anyway, because the second Bo hears the words period, he's gone.

Vince knows how much your hormones can fuck up your emotions so he's always there to provide comfort. If you snap at him, he might feel a bit thrown off but he'll forgive you.

Need a hug? Just tell him. Vincent will be even more tender than he usually is, so careful as not to hurt you.

NSFW

Vincent isn't disgusted by period blood but he's concerned.

That being said he's skeptical about period sex because he doesn't want to cause even more pain than you're already in.

However, he doesn't say no to fingering or going down on you.

He's fine with only giving and not receiving pleasure for the time of your period. Though he'll be relieved when you offer to repay him.

If you insist on real sex, he'll do it for you but he's so much more tender and sweet and careful. Your pleasure is the only thing important to him, especially on your period.

Bo Sinclair

SFW

I am sorry but Bo flees the second he hears period.

When he thinks about it, the only things he remembers are mood swings, no sex, and blood.

Yeah, he's not the most considerate.

It takes a while to make him stay and help you through this time. Maybe after a few years of an ongoing relationship, he'll be willing to try.

The only thing he will do if you ask him to is a message.

NSFW

Bo is absolutely against sex during your period. He finds it absolutely disgusting.

However, Bo is horny and he has a high sex drive.

At the end of it, he might fuck you. After all, the blood usually eases up during the end and the other symptoms do so as well.

Sex while you're actively bleeding though? Never.

Lester Sinclair

SFW

Lester doesn't know a whole lot about periods. His mom died before she could teach him and, unlike his brother Vincent, he doesn't know anything about the human anatomy.

However, that doesn't mean he won't try to help you.

He gets advice from Bo, which he proceeds to ignore because Bo just tells him to leave. Vincent however gives him a clear explanation of how your body works and so he figures out how to help you.

Lester will make sure you're warm, with wrapped blankets around you and hot water bottles on your tummy.

Snacks will always be available and Lester will even feed you if you ask him.

Cuddles are a must. He'll gladly wrap his arms around you, Jonesy lying next to you, cuddled up next to your bodies.

NSFW

At first, he doesn't even understand that things could be different during your period.

Then it hits him that the pain might make it uncomfortable for you.

Lester is totally down to have sex as long as you're fine with it.

If not, he'll be happy to pleasure himself for the time of your period.

Baby Firefly

SFW

Baby knows how shit periods can be. She'll be so understanding and considerate, trying to be the best girlfriend she can be.

Whatever it is you wish, Baby will get it for you.

As a reward, she demands the same though.

If she's on her period, she wants you to show the same consideration she showed you.

If Otis is annoying you, she'll also gladly get him to shut up.

NSFW

Baby doesn't have a problem with period sex, after all, she has quite the experience with blood.

However, she knows how difficult it can be to be horny and in pain during your period.

She'll gladly not receive any pleasure and only go down on you if it makes you feel good.

Otis Driftwood

SFW

He doesn't know shit about periods.

Whenever Baby had her time of the month, he kind of just.. didn't care.

I can see him get high and then have a breakdown because he doesn't know why you're bleeding or how to stop it.

Even if you explain it to him, he won't get it.

He'll give you gifts because he's unsure of what else to do.

NSFW

He... has way too much experience with kinky things to be disgusted by period sex.

As I said, if he's high, the blood could trigger a panic attack.

He won't do oral though, that's not his thing.

Otis doesn't care if you feel pain, he's a sadist. Unless it's really bad, he doesn't even acknowledge it.

Billy Loomis

SFW

He doesn't know a lot about it, but he tries his best.

If you need help in any way, he'll be there for you.

Billy will whine if you make him buy pads. He'll do so anyway because he's a simp.

His advice comes from his male friends, so he'll do the classics, buy chocolates and flowers, and provide many cuddles.

If you snap at him, he'll sulk for a bit.

NSFW

He immediately thought period meant no sex. You'll have to initiate it if you're interested.

He'll push you away at first, confusedly asking about your period.

Billy isn't the biggest fan of period sex. He just doesn't quite like the idea.

His sex drive is too high to say no, so he'll fuck you anyway but he prefers it when you're not bleeding.

Stu Macher

SFW

He will be pretty clingy, trying to be the sweet boyfriend™.

He might forget about your pain over how much of a great boyfriend he is.

Stu will come back to reality when you snap at him and then he suddenly understands that periods aren't cute and wholesome at all.

He learns from that experience.

He's kind of scared now, you just don't know if it's because you're in pain or because you could snap at him again.

Stu is still supportive, he's just way more distant during that time than he used to.

NSFW

Stu also didn't even think about sex during your period.

The first time he gets horny during your period it suddenly hits him. He can't just go and ask you, can he?

It'll take him a while to openly talk about the subject.

He isn't really disgusted by your blood, he just never considered it?!

Stu prefers normal sex over period sex, that way he has less to think about.

Brahms Heelshire

SFW

His mom never told him anything about periods.

He didn't even know they exist.

The first time he sees you bleed he nearly faints from worry.

Brahms needs a lot of explaining to fully understand why your body acts the way it does.

After that, he'll be very timid but supportive with his help.

Cuddles are a daily activity anyway but now he'll be more careful, tenderly caressing your tummy as he snuggles against your skin.

He might even do a few of the chores.

Pro tip: If you act like you're actually dying from how painful it is, he'll be way more compliant.

NSFW

Sex is one of the first things he worries about, how could it not be.

He's kind of shy about the whole topic so the subject will only come up when he's super horny.

Brahms won't fuck you during this time, he'd probably forget about the blood and then panic when he spots it on his dick.

Oral is a must since Brahms' sex drive is extremely high.

In the beginning, he's against giving oral, but he's too aroused to care anymore after a while.

Thomas Hewitt

SFW

Being the queen she is, Luda already taught him a whole lot about female anatomy and periods.

The second he notices your bleeding, he's fully committed to showing all his support.

Thomas is there for you, doesn't matter what you need.

He's tough Y/N, neither your high emotionality nor blood can hurt him.

Tommy is so tender and caring, even more than he usually is.

He is the best slasher out there to care for you during your period.

NSFW

It takes him a lot of convincing to get him to have sex with you during your period.

He's not disgusted, after all, he's been through worse. He just doesn't want you to be in pain.

You need to get him really, really riled up to get him to give in to his urges instead of ignoring them.

His sexual urges feel like a burden to him, especially during your period.

He needs a lot of time and love to understand that it's just natural and nothing to be ashamed of.

Josef

SFW

Uh oh.

Feminist Josef™ shows up.

All women are queens and for the time being, he's going to treat you like one.

Home-cooked meals, warm hugs and he'll even wash your hair!

Josef is also really interested in the anatomy of your body and why and how this whole process happens.

I can see him staring at a tampon with a child-like curiosity in his eyes.

"It just... gets bigger when it's inside?! Wow..."

NSFW

He isn't concerned about sex, his sex drive is pretty low.

If you really want it, he's going to give in but he'll be extra careful.

Josef isn't disgusted by blood, he's mature enough to see it as a normal fluid your body produces.

It kind of boosts his ego, that you want him even during this time of the month.

Amanda Young

SFW

Naw, Y/N, she understands immediately.

She's a pretty busy woman but whenever she has time, her support and help are yours.

Sometimes she'll drop little gifts at your door while you're sleeping, having just come home from work.

If she has time, she'll be unnaturally clingy, cuddling up to you way more than usual.

Her temper does clash with your emotionality sometimes but she'll calm down quickly and apologize.

NSFW

She's fine with no sexual contact for the time of your period.

Amanda is not disgusted by period blood, she just knows how uncomfortable your period can get.

Some soft sex is always in if you want it as well.

She won't do very rough or kinky stuff during this time, you deserve to feel loved, supported, and comfortable.

[animeyanderelover]

May I please have prompt 127 with Grell? Hope that's ok?! Thank you for always answering my requests!

That prompt honestly just suits her so well, I can’t😂.

Tw: Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, unhealthy relationship, clinginess, obsessiveness, kidnapping, blood

Prompt 127: “I would bleed out if you tell me you like the color red.”

"Why exactly do I have to clean always the mess up you make during such missions? How did this even happen?!" Your voice sounded more shrill than usual, slight panic visible in your voice whilst trying to patch up the wound on Grell's shoulder, besmirching yourself with her blood in the process. You were no professional in this, having not the knowledge or experience how to properly sew a wound and you knew that Grell had a higher endurance, meaning she wouldn't die on blood loss. But you had wanted to help nevertheless, having panicked slightly when she had limped through the door, blood smearing her clothes and leaving a path behind you would have to clean later on if you didn't want the whole house to reek of blood.

"It was nothing too much to worry about darling. I just got in a little fight with someone and I let my guard down for a second." You raised your eyebrow slightly. "And with whom exactly did you get into a fight? A human can't have caused this damage on a grim reaper. So that must mean that you fought against another supernatural creature. Question now is which one. Do you want to tell me the reason why as well?"

A grim look crossed Grell's face for a moment, looking upset when recalling the incident that had caused her all the blood loss. "Well?", you asked, giving her a prompting look to encourage her before going back to observing her wound, trying to figure out how you were supposed to patch the wound after having somewhat cleaned it up. "You know, I can deduce this a bit judging from this wound. Were you attacked from a grim reaper's death scythe or something like this?"

"He started it!", Grell quickly defended herself, jerking a bit up in the process and making you nearly hit her in the wrong spot. "Hey! Sit still or else I'll end up sewing the wrong place. I already have troubles finding out how to even patch this!", you snapped, leading her to quickly sitting back in her earlier position.

"Did you get in troubles with William?", you continued questioning her, doing in your head a small simultation on how you would do any moment now finally mend that bleeding deep cut of hers. "No, I didn't! I said that he was the one who started it. He got punished instead of me and was raken his death scythe." You gave her a surprised look, blinking shocked. "...Wait, so this time you really were innocent?!"

"Of course I was! Why do you sound so surprised?", Grell complained, pouting slightly hurt. "Well...How do I say this?", you started, searching for the right words to explain it to her without ending up insulting her. "You're a bit more...quick-tempered and spirited?, you suggested, feeling like those words would come over as more positive.

"So I could have died back then on blood loss and you would have thought it was my fault for even doing so, am I right?", Grell started, sounding suddenly all too dramatic. "I am just being misunderstood in here. I really didn't do this time anything wrong. All I did was trying to talk with him before he suddenly started throwing his death scythe after me. It seems like he had a bad day and wanted me to shut up when all I did was trying to have a polite conversation with him. My feelings were hurt and at the very least you could be a bit more friendly because I might die here."

"Oh, come one! You won't die on this. The worst that might happen is you feeling dizzy and somewhat hazy due to all the blood that you have already lost! But that's all! Don't be such a drama queen! I'll fix you up! I'll try at least...Do you think that you can tolerate the pain?" It was kind of an unnecessary question, she had told you stories where she had been thrown through walls and hadn't looked affected so this was a ridiculous question which you noticed by the 'why are you even asking' look in her eyes. "Forget it. That was a stupid question. Still, sit still or else I'll end up piercing that thing by accident somewhere where we don't want to have it."

Your hands were slightly shaking, you were after all pretty nervous since you had never done it before. But it was either you finally closing the cut or accepting having her bleeding for a whole lot longer until her body would heal itself which you didn't want to wait for because it would only dirty the house even more than already. She would definitely help you later on scrubbing all the blood from the floor.

"You look sexy whilst being so concentrated.", you heard her chirping, her body moving a bit in the process which made you barely prevent yourself from ramming the needle with the threat in your own hand. "Grell?", you asked after calming down from the small shock. "Yes?", she replied. "Shut up whilst I'm flicking you together. I have to concentrate and your job is to sit still. No moving, no speaking, preferably no breathing. Just be like a stone. Do nothing."

"You want me to stop breathing? So mean.", she whined out, but after seeing the look with the silent message 'just do it', she let out a small huff before sucking in one last gasp of her and then completely stopping to move. "See? You can do it ans it isn't like you will die instantly. Let me just hurry up a bit."

You hadn't even gloves on, making all of this a bit gross since your hands were already stained with Grell's blood and the smell and close sight of it wasn't very great to look at either, but you had never been someone who was shaken up easily and life with the grim reaper had definitely hardened you up a lot.

For the biggest part you managed to not show your nervousness, though the slight trembling of your hands and your bloody and sweaty palms might have given it away that you had no idea what you were doing, the only knowledge you did possess was having read books about how to do it and having watched someone doing it once before, though it hadn't been on a human. But it was better than walking in on this completely blindly and whilst it ended up being a bit inexpertly, you still felt proud because for a starter it was still pretty good, but that was of course only your opinion.

You let out a small sigh, wanting to wipe your forehead before stopping abruptly, remembering just what exactly you had sticking on your whole body. You would have to take a thoroughly shower afterwards.

"Can I breathe again?", you suddenly heard Grell asking with a pressed voice, reminding you that she had hold her breath for the last four minutes, probably even longer. Respect, you didn't know if you could do that in such a situation. "Oh yes. Feel free to do what you want."

She gasped loudly, grabbing your shoulders in the process and just breathing a few times deeply in and out before straightening up and bending her head in an attempt to take a look at the freshly stitched wound. "Does it look daft?", she asked you.

"What the...? Grell, it isn't supposed to look like a work of art, not when I did it. It's just to stop the bleeding.", you quickly scolded her, tidying up all the tools and the many soaked towels and tissues you had used to clean all the blood from her wound. "And I'm sure you wouldn't want that to happen, right? Bleeding out in this house. But it seems like in the end everything went fine, the blood loss doesn't seem to have had an affect on you.", you added, feeling actually a bit relieved that she hadn't experienced any sort of dizzyness or shock from all of this.

You glaned with a heavy sigh down on yourself, examining just how terrible you really looked, blood smeared all over your face, your arms, clothes and even the tip of your hairs hadn't been spared. Someone would need to spend the next few hours in the bathroom to scrub and clean themselves thoroughly and severly up, you didn't plan on reeking like a wandering bloob bag.

"I look pretty bad.", you mumbled out, shaking your hands a bit in hopes of getting some of the still liquid blood off, though you knew you should hurry before it would start to dry. "I think you look gorgeous, covered in all my blood like this. Red suits you."

You stiffened up when hearing her saying this, although you weren't surprised hearing something like this coming from her. "Do you have to say this after I just patched you up? It makes it sound like you would have actually wanted to continuously lose blood just so I could be covered in your blood. And you wouldn't do that...right?" Why had you to ask this? She would surely not be that risky with her love for you, would she?

Grell put her fingertips on her chest, with the other gesturing at you. (y/n), I would bleed out if you tell me you like the color red."

...You shouldn't have asked this. For a few seconds you were quiet, thinking about how to give an answer to that question before just humming, deciding to leave this without any comment that could lead to her saying more stuff like this. You were for a short moment thinking if she had perhaps after all gotten a bit confused after losing that much of her blood, but with her it was hard to tell. You were sure she would be fine either way, making up your mind to just finally take a bath with a lot of soap.

"Are you taking a bath now?", Grell queried when seeing you walking towards the bathroom. "Obviously.", you replied, slowly gesturing at your currently eerie-looking figure, dry and still fresh blood mixing everywhere on your body. You were sure if you would walk like this at night through the forest and would cross paths with someone, they would run away crying and screaming. You looked like you had just murdered someone.

"Great! Can I come with you?"

"...Let me think. No."

"Why not? I could help you with cleaning you up from all the blood."

"I surely won't let you see me naked Grell! And you need to go easy on yourself now, especially with that freshly sewed shoulder of yours!"

"...I can use my other arm to scrub you up."

"Grell! No means no!"

"Fine then. I just wanted to help you. You could sometimes be a bit more polite with me."

"I politely decline.", you told her before finally disappearing, locking out of caution the door. You didn't know how effective a 'no' would be with her. You knew her overzealousness too well.

[the-bau-quinjet]

Every Little Thing.

Part 3!! You can find all the info about why this is such a mess in Part 1 and read Part 2 here! This is the last part sort of. I’m planning on an epilogue of sorts though!

Summary: Reader is a famous singer with a murderous stalker. Spencer has to go undercover to protect her.

warnings: mentions of murder, anxious reader, stalker

Word Count: 8681

The next time you open your eyes, the first thing you see is the shadow of an unknown person looming over you. Your instincts are screaming danger and without thinking about it, you start fighting your way out of their hands. They are trying to restrain you, so you fight back harder. You can’t stop hearing the lamp crashing on your head. It’s reminding you over and over of the danger you are in. Your self-defense training kicks in when the person wraps an arm across our chest. Afterwards, you think it should have occurred to you that the person wasn’t really fighting back so much as trying to calm you down, but you’ll blame your poor observational skills on adrenaline. It just all happened so fast.

You form your hands into “large claws” as the instructor called them in class, and swiftly shove them between your body and the arm of the attacker. Gripping the arm, you throw your weight diagonally forward, curling your body in toward your left knee. You end in a one legged kneel, having thrown the person over your shoulder. The thud they made upon hitting the floor was highly satisfying, until you looked down and recognized the face.

 Derek Morgan was staring at you from his new found position on the floor, you kneeling over him with a slightly crazed look in your eye. You would start apologizing, but you are so stunned you don’t move until Morgan gets up and guides you back to the couch.

 Apparently the team had been trying to reach you or Reid for a while. Neither of you answered, for reasons that were obvious now, so the team rushed over to check on you. Nobody mentions how you just threw Derek over your body as if he were a ragdoll. It doesn’t seem like the time to be joking around.

 You tell them everything you can remember, starting with everything you told Spencer about the man you recognized and ending with the sound of the lamp cracking over your head. You’re surprised you didn’t cry through the whole story. Maybe you’re out of tears, physically unable to produce any more because your tear ducts dried up. If Spencer were here he’d tell you some fact about how your tear ducts never really dry out, your body just becomes dehydrated and water is diverted to more essential tasks.

 At the thought of Spencer, a few tears do spring to your eyes. “Why would he take him? I was right here! He could’ve just taken me and been done with it. Oh, god. I was right there and I couldn’t stop him. No, no, no no no nonono.” You can feel all the signs of panic setting in, but you don’t have the power to stop them on your own. The team is trying to help you. They are, but you don’t hear them. You’re too worried about what is currently happening to Spencer.

 It feels like time has slowed down. It’s like you’re swimming through syrup, desperately trying to stay above the surface, but the liquid is heavy and it’s sticky and it’s pulling you down. You hear what people are saying to you, but the words don’t make sense in your brain. They might as well be talking to a toddler, because all you can do is babble incoherently and point at the pieces of lamp on the ground.  

 You are relieving the same two scenes over and over. The look on his face when you made eye contact in the park. Then the sound of the lamp hitting your skull in the dark. The look on his face. The sound of the lamp. The look. The sound. His face. The lamp. It’s repeating in a never ending cycle. Your brain is moving so fast, you’re combining the two experiences. Logically, you know it was way too dark to see him holding the lamp, but you can see it clear as day in your head.

 He’s walking across the room. He stops to pick up the lamp. He’s got both hands wrapped around it, as if he needed all the force he could possible create. HI lifts it above his head, and crash- wait. He’s holding the lamp like a mic stand. He’s holding the lamp like a mic stand!

 “The lamp!” Your exclamation is so loud, Hotch looks as if he could’ve been surprised.

 “He hit you with the lamp. We know.” Morgan’s voice is soothing, but your brain is moving through everything too fast to listen. You must look certifiably insane.

 “No, the way he held the lamp.” Your brain is moving too fast for the words coming out of your mouth to catch up.

 “You said it was too dark to see anything. How do you know how he held the lamp?” JJ looks confused more than anything at your behavior.

 “I don’t. I mean, I do. I don’t know.” You’re being pulled back to the couch again. It’s as if the syrup has you in a bubble. You’re moving at a different frequency than the rest of them. You’re in a daze, not speaking as clearly as you are thinking.

 “Y/N.” Hotch says your name with such a commanding presence, you’re focus is returned to the team. They’re staring at you with various expressions. Rossi looks so concerned you can’t help but think of the song you started for him. He really is the parental type. The rest of the team wear expressions that perfectly balance confusion, concern, and worry. Except for Hotch. He looks as stoic as ever, but there is a glint in his eye that seems to indicate he’s worried. “What about the lamp?”

 “You’re right. I didn’t see the lamp in his hands. It was too dark.” This clears the confusion, but the concern and worry haven’t left their faces. “I can picture it though. And in my head, he was holding the lamp like I would hold a mic stand if I was trying to adjust the height.” You mime the grip in front of you. “That’s a weird fucking way to hold a lamp. So, why would I picture that?” They give you sympathetic looks, but nobody has an answer for you. 

You’ve risen from the couch to pace back and forth across the room. The team starts speculating where the unsub would’ve taken Spencer, but you’re not listening. You are so sure there’s a reason you picture the lamp like that. You aren’t paying attention to them, and they aren’t paying attention to you. At least, that’s what you thought. You’re practically muttering to yourself when you figure it out. “I’ve seen him adjust a mic stand.” Hotch must have ears like an elephant because his head instantly swivels in your direction. You make the briefest of eye contact, a small smile forming on your face as you dart back toward the team.

 “You’ve seen him before yesterday?” Hotch asks, cutting off the conversation currently going on between the agents. The group turns toward you, just realizing you’re no longer walking in circles talking to yourself.

 “Yes. Yes, I’ve seen him adjust a mic stand. That must be why I pictured it like that in my head. The lamp I mean.” Hotch gives you a gentle nudge, encouraging you to reach a conclusion. “He works on the crew. His first show was the Louisville show.” Morgan already has Garcia on the phone, narrowing down the names for newer hires only.

 “That’s still 42 names.” You can hear her nerves through the phone, and you’ve only met her once.

 “Right, we hire a lot of new people for the US leg of the tour. It’s usually the biggest part.” You try to remember anything else about this man, wishing you had Spencer’s memory.

 “Y/N, what else can you remember about him?” JJ’s words are gentle, but the look in her eyes is anything but. It is her best friend that’s missing.

 “I don’t know. He’s never talked to me. I tried to introduce myself once and he just awkwardly ran away. The other crew guys he was working with, though they said something though.” You start tapping the side of your head, trying to recall the memory from nearly a month ago. “They said he’s been like that since he started. A little shy, I mean. They thought he was star struck.” You know they said something else, but it feels like you’re trying to catch individual grains of sand. You can just barely see them before they land in the water, fading away. “His name! One of them said his name. Jake or John or something with a J.”

 “Three names.” The hope was evident in the way Garcia said the two simple words.

 “What are they? I know they said his last name too, it’s just harder to remember because I didn’t talk to him personally.”

 “Jacob Hawthorne-“

 “No, it’s not him. He works in lighting, great guy. Cute kids.”

“Jordan Crawford”

 “No, he’s a set designer. I talk to him all the time about switching things up between shows.”

 “Last one, Joshua Gr-“

 “Graves! Josh Graves That’s the name. That’s him!”

 “Y/N, stay here. Agent Anderson will make sure you’re safe.” You can still hear his commanding voice as he leaves the room with the rest of the team. “Garcia, look for addresses where he-” The door swings shut, cutting you off from the rest of the information.

 You gave Agent Anderson a small wave, asking if he wanted coffee or tea. You were still trying to be a good host, even if the room was a crime scene.

 Crime scene. Suddenly, the idea of staying in this room any longer made you feel physically ill. You threw on a pair of sweatpants and a baseball hat, grabbing your keys as you headed for the door. Before Agent Anderson, or Grant as he introduced himself, could speak a word of protest, you had the door open.

 “I can’t be in that room anymore. We can go wherever you want, I just can’t stay there.” He nodded in understanding, but still looked nervous at the idea of ignoring Hotch’s order to stay put.

 The elevator doors opened to a mostly deserted lobby. You instantly walk over to the small café tucked into the corner. The barista recognizes you immediately, reaching for a bag as if you had already ordered.

 “Ms. L/N, a man ordered this for you earlier. He said to give it to you as soon possible, but I didn’t want to wake you up since it’s still so early.” She has a sweet smile on her face, one you try to return but fail miserably.

 “Thank you.” You’re far too stressed to worry about who ordered you a pastry before 5:45 in the morning on a day you were definitely not planning on being up this early. Agent Anderson, though? He was suspicious.

 As you sat down in the arm chairs just outside of the shop, he politely asked for the bag.

 “Why?” You said it with genuine confusion, but apparently he wasn’t actually asking. He had the bag open and the contents dumped onto the table in a matter of seconds. A blueberry muffin, you’re favorite, and a napkin topple onto the surface of the table in front of you.

 “Are FBI agents trained to waste perfectly good muffins?” It’s hard to hide the slight mirth in your voice as you stare at the muffin that rolled of the table and onto the floor. Grant must not have heard you, or maybe he just chose to ignore you. He was still looking at the napkin. He took a picture on his phone before finally returning his attention to you. Of course, now your attention was trained on the napkin. It was your turn to move quickly, sliding it over to you and holding it out to prevent him from taking it back. The message on it was written in sloppy, rushed handwriting, but it was still legible.

 “You belong with me. Not him.”

“His story is bound to have dust on every page when I’m done with him.”

“The slope was treacherous, the path reckless.”

“Do you think there’s enough blank space for him?”

 You aren’t proud of the first thought that popped into your head. It was true, but you still would’ve liked to think your first thought would somehow tell you where Spencer was. Or at least be about Spencer, but no.

 So rude of him to use my own lyrics for this. 

 You moved passed it quickly though, ignoring the fear you felt at seeing an unreleased lyric in front of you. There must be some sort of clue in the note. Why would he leave it for me if he doesn’t want me to find him? Grant managed to snatch the napkin out of your hand, but you had already read it. The damage was done.

 “Y/N. You cannot leave this hotel. The team will find him. They know what they’re doing.” His words were a warning. One you intended to ignore.

 “Fine. I’m going to get another muffin.” You tried to sound normal, but that’s probably what gave you away. Nobody would sound normal in this scenario. It didn’t matter if he figured out your plan though. You had a distraction for him. You waved at the barista as you walked into the shop.

 “Hi, can I get another muffin? Accidentally dropped mine, whoops!” You smiled at her in a conspiratorial kind of way before leaning closer. “By the way, my friend over there” you nodded toward the agent who hadn’t taken his eyes off you as you walked away, “he thinks you’re cute. You should go talk to him!” Before you knew it, she was out from behind the counter, waving to her colleague to get you a muffin. She stood right in front of Grant, twirling her hair, but more importantly blocking his view of you.

 You didn’t wait for the muffin. You slipped out the side door that lead straight to the main street, repeating the clues in your head. Dust. Treacherous. Blank Space.

 Somewhere dirty, dangerous, and empty?

 Ideas are flying through your head, but they don’t make any sense. The clues aren’t specific enough to tell you everything. It has to be somewhere you’ve been. Realization hits you as if a piano just fell out of the sky.

 The arena. There was a staircase and some back rooms that were closed for construction. Dust, check. Unsafe conditions, check. Empty rooms, check. That has to be it.

 You hail a cab, texting Hotch once you are on route to your destination. You know he’s going to tell you to stay put, but you want to make sure he knows where to go.

 “The arena. They were doing construction.” You put your phone on airplane mode before returning it to your bag.

 You expect to arrive at the arena to see it surrounded by black SUVs and police cars, but everything is eerily quiet. You must have beaten them there somehow. You pay your driver before walking up to the main doors. It seems like the best plan of action is to get inside and then find the construction zone. Weirdly enough, the front door is unlocked.

 The sound of your shoes hitting the floor echoes in your mind as you wander through the building. It should be a fairly straightforward path, but you’re all turned around. Everything feels different. It’s no longer the nervous butterflies you get right before you perform. The syrup is coming back, only this time it’s pulling you in every direction except for the one you want to go in. You’re fighting your own sense of self preservation. Your brain is screaming at you to leave. You aren’t trained for this. You’re barely trained for anything that doesn’t involve music. But there is a part of you that still feels like this is all your fault. Maybe if you had just talked to him that day things would be different. You could’ve prevented all of this. Maybe…

 The sound of Spencer’s voice pulls you forward. He sounds like he’s in pain, but the words are powerful.

 “She’s not going to come. Even if she does get the note, there is no way the FBI would let her anywhere near the building.”

More guilt overwhelms you. It’s as if, all at once, the extreme stupidity of your actions hits you. You are putting Spencer’s life at risk. Hell, you are endangering the lives of any agent who has to walk into this building to protect you. You don’t know what will happen to Grant. You left him behind when all he was trying to do was protect you. You made it so he couldn’t do his job properly.

 Your body leans into the nearest wall with a soft thud. You barely heard it, but it was apparently loud enough for Joshua.

 “Someone’s hear.” His voice sounds playful, as if he’s really enjoying this. “Let’s hope for your sake it’s her.” You’re frozen in place as the footsteps grow closer and closer. You can’t hide. You can’t run. You can’t do anything except wait for him to walk around the corner and see you standing there.

 Seeing him again isn’t like you thought it would be. You thought you’d be angered. Mostly, you’re just tired. Multiple panic attacks in one day could do that to a person. You also probably had a concussion that was influencing how you processed the emotional side of everything going on.

 Seeing Spencer was different than expected as well. There was no huge wave of relief at discovering he was relatively unhurt. You felt relief, but it was like a tiny puddle surrounded by an ocean of guilt and sadness. There was mostly guilt, and no matter what anyone said before it felt different now. He was only in this position because of you. If he had not have been the one to go undercover, he wouldn’t have been targeted. And, it was your brilliant idea that landed him undercover in the first place.

 He looked so panicked at the sight of you. A flurry of emotions ran across his face before settling back into a carefully controlled blank stare.

 You wanted to run to him, but you couldn’t move. Yes, Josh was holding your arm in a grip sure to leave bruises, but your legs also felt like jelly. You kept thinking over and over that you shouldn’t have come. That you are only making everything worse. That everyone else’s jobs are so much harder now that you’ve put yourself here. Spencer must see it written on your face because the first thing he says after you enter the room is “It’s not your fault.”

 Hearing it from him, you’re almost inclined to believe it. All you can do is nod, tears springing to your eyes.

 Josh isn’t pleased with you sharing any sort of a moment with Spencer. He somehow tightens his hold on your arm, drawing a slight yelp from you. You try to remember what Hotch told you that first night. It feels like it happened months ago, but maybe you can talk your way out of this by remembering something useful. Or at least talk Spencer’s way out of it. You’ve been listening to him talk about profiling for the past week, time to put your skills to the test.

 “I’m here now. You can let him go.” You don’t know who is more shocked at your words. Yourself, Josh, or Spencer. You’ve never seen Spencer speechless, but apparently you trying to talk down a psychopath who is obsessed with you and rapidly devolving is enough to manage the feat.

 Josh pulls a gun from the waistband of his pants. He throws you into the wall before angrily pacing through the room.

 “Josh, look at me.” It takes everything in you to pretend like this is a script. As if you are playing a role in a movie. “You have me. We can be together, but you have to let Spencer go.” He’s staring right into your eyes, trying to read your thoughts.

 “You’re lying. He has to die, or he’ll always come between us.” He slowly raises the gun, not quite pointing it at any one, but enough to cause your heart rate to soar.

 “Josh, think about it. I’ve known you for so much longer than I’ve known him.” You nearly choke on the next words that come out of your mouth. “He’s not important to me. Not like you.”

 “STOP LYING TO ME. I KNOW WHAT I SAW.” Oh no. No no no. He’s frantically waving the gun around the room as you inch closer to Spencer. You notice movement near the door you came in, but you don’t have time to investigate. When Josh aims his gun at Spencer, you don’t think before you act- a recurring theme with you today. With all the grace of a newborn deer learning to walk for the first time, you jump in front of Spencer right as the gun goes off.

 You’re not sure if it’s an echo but you would’ve sworn you heard two resounding bangs instead of just one.

 Spencer catches you as you fall to the ground, bleeding from the bullet wound in your abdomen.

 “Spence,” you take a shuttering breath, trying to gain the strength to talk to him.

 “Shh, Y/N. It’s okay. You’re going to be okay.” He turns to yell at someone out of your view. “I need a medic! Now!” He sounds just as panicked as he looked earlier.

 “I’m sorry.” You squeeze his hand when he tries to interrupt you again. “I’m sorry, for coming, but not for sav-saving you. The world- it needs you to pr-pro-protect people. Th-thank you. For every,” you couch a bit as you try to get the words out. “For everything.” You know he is remembering your heartfelt speech to him and Morgan from a few days ago, or at least you hope he is. The last thing you say before your vision fades to black feels so random in comparison. “Don’t blame Grant.”

 --

“Spence,” your breathing is choppy and rough, contrasting the smooth skin beneath his fingertips as he assesses your wound.

 “Shh. Y/N. It’s okay. You’re going to be okay.” His thoughts are running wild with everything he wants to say to you, but he can’t get anything meaningful to come out. Instead he’s yelling for a medic, frantically looking at all the faces of his closest friends. “I need a medic! Now!” He can hear the panic in his voice, but no amount of training or profiling knowledge can get him to control his emotions.

 “I’m sorry.” He tries to interrupt you. To tell you it’s not your fault. That you did everything right. That Josh’s profile said he wouldn’t back down without a fight. Anything, but you squeeze his hand and he can’t breathe, let alone speak. “For coming, but not for sav-saving you. The world- it needs you to pr-pro-protect people. Th-thank you. For every,�� he leans in closer, wishing he could do anything to stop your pain. “For everything.” He can’t help but replay your previous conversation with Morgan. Tears are falling down his face, but he can’t bring himself to care.

 “Don’t blame Grant.” It takes him the entire ride to the hospital to understand why you mentioned Anderson. Even with your brain shutting down from a lack of blood flow, you were still trying to make sure nobody was blamed for your actions.

 He barely listens to the EMTs and the hospital staff as he watches them wheel you back through the all too familiar ‘Authorized Personnel Only” doors.

 Spencer doesn’t bother to hide his emotions when the rest of the team arrive. He doesn’t have the energy in him to muster enough energy to hide how he’s feeling from the group of profilers. They all come to the same realization simultaneously. Spencer is a wreck. There’s no other way to describe it. He spent hours in the waiting room before anyone could even convince him to wash your blood off his hands.

He just keeps thinking about how he didn’t get to say goodbye. Hell, he didn’t really say anything. You were bleeding out in front of him, having just jumped in front of a bullet to save him, and still you had more strength than he did in the moment.

 Another few hours later and he still hasn’t said a word. JJ’s tried. Derek’s tried. Hotch, Penelope, and Emily tried. Nobody can get through to him. He’s either pacing back and forth or staring at a wall. Of course, his mind is racing, the words just don’t come out of his mouth.

 He thinks about how much he hates hospitals. He goes over how germ-ridden every surface is, how much money is spent on healthcare in America, how many people are pronounced dead in hospitals- and then he cuts his own train of thought off.

 He thinks about the statistics of gunshot wounds next. He’s hyper focused on how clean shots with an exit wound are less lethal, but yours didn’t have and exit wound so that meant you were less likely to survive- and again he cuts himself off.

 He’s begging his brain for happier thoughts. Anything that won’t lead him down the rabbit hole of statistics and how likely you are to die. He clings to the first memory that pops into his head. The night he first saw you.

 Hotch, Emily, and Spencer arrived at the arena while the show was still going, if the fireworks were any clue. Normally, one flash of a badge would get the team through any checkpoint, but security at this place was no joke. They called to confirm the identities of the agents before escorting them to the head of security.

 That’s when Spencer saw you for the first time. Hotch was arguing with the head of security, a woman named Carrie. Emily was interjecting, trying to convey how important it was that the three agents speak to you immediately without giving away any details about the case. Spencer, if not for his eidetic memory, would have no idea what had been said. His attention was drawn elsewhere when you ran off the stage.

 He knew it was the last song of the night because of what Carrie was saying. It was clear to them she was stalling the team, so you could finish the show everyone was there to see.

 You had a bright smile on your face, but it seemed off to Spencer. There was a slight sadness in your eyes, and he wanted nothing more than to ask you why. The feeling perplexed him. He’s never been a social butterfly, but your presence was captivating.

 He watched your smile transform into genuine happiness when you slid your arms into a new jacket for the final performance, and he wanted to ask about that to. He wanted to learn everything he could about you.

 He would’ve thought his heart had skipped a beat when you made eye contact, but he knew logically he would’ve required medical attention had that actually happened. The moment was brief. Your expression, although still happy, transformed into slightly quizzical when you glanced at the three agents. He watched as you thought about who they could be before discarding all thoughts from your mind to focus on the grand finale. He kept watching as you ran back on stage, the smile only growing in size and authenticity when you looked out at the crowd.

 He replays that memory in his mind, all the while ignoring the concerned glances and attempts at conversation from his friends. He desperately clings to the way he felt during that 30 second interaction.

 He doesn’t understand the feelings that started in that moment. It’s like as soon as he saw you, something in him shifted. He can’t explain it. He’s not blind. He saw the smirks and subtle glances the other profilers were giving when they saw him interact with you. He was just as surprised by his willingness to comfort you, both emotionally and physically. He’s never been one for touching people he doesn’t know. There’s too many germs. But with you, everything is different... With you, he wants it all. Every little thing. 

 Spencer has never believed in love at first sight. He’s always been too practical, has always thought too logically. But, after the tenth time reliving that moment, he still has no other explanation for the desire he felt. The desire he still feels to learn everything there is to know about you.

 All week, he’s chalked it up to his inquisitive mind. He’s always loved learning, so that must have been what was happening here. He’s never spent any considerable amount of time with a musician before, so it’s only natural that he would want to learn from the experience.

 That’s a much easier explanation to accept than love. People can’t fall in love in a week. Even if it was a week spent nonstop with each other. But something in the back of his mind was screaming at Spencer to tell himself the truth.

 And so he did. And it only confused him more. He’s a man of science. Proving theories with facts, not emotion. Of course, he’s always wanted to be in love, but life has shown him again and again that it wasn’t probable for him. That’s why he nearly fell out of the chair he was in when the realization dawned on him.

 “I haven’t had enough time.” It’s barely a whisper, but all his friends are right there hanging on his every word. They wear cautious expressions, as if he could be easily spooked back into silence.

 “Enough time for what, kid?” Morgan’s voice is uncharacteristically soft. Even in his most calming moments, Derek always puts power behind his words. It’s why he’s so good at helping people, but this is different. He can tell Spencer is hurting, and he doesn’t want to spook him back into complete silence.

 “I’ve barely scratched the surface. I have so much left to learn.” Although he’s still whispering, Spencer’s voice is growing more frantic as he looks between the concerned and confused faces staring back at him. His brain is moving too fast to really explain the thought process going on inside. He can’t put into words how it wasn’t love at first sight, but rather the desire to love you. He saw you and just knew he could love you. That desire to learn everything about you somehow turned into love in the span of a week. Before he can fall even deeper into the rabbit hole he’s found himself in, Spencer is jolted out of his head by the feeling of Rossi’s hands gripping his shoulders.

 “I know, kid. You’ll have more time.” Rossi’s words are so confident, Spencer has no choice but to accept them as fact. His heart slows back down to a normal pace. His breathing becomes more regular. His legs stop bouncing. His hands stop fidgeting. And he accepts the comforting words from his family.

 --

 You’re running. You don’t know where you are. You don’t know how you got here. But you know you’re running.

You feel at ease. You don’t know why. You know it to be true though. You feel safe. Peaceful.

 You try to look around. Try to figure out why you’re running. Are you running toward something? Away from something? For fun? It feels fun.

 You hear voices. It sounds like laughter. Slowly, you put the pieces together.

 You’re in your backyard. Playing with your children. Yours and Spencer’s children. There’s three of them. All girls. The youngest is 4. The other two 6. Twins. You have twins with Spencer. You bask in the joy of it all.

 You’re running because you’re playing tag. With your daughters and Spencer. He’s got the all teamed up against you. It feels unfair, but you wouldn’t change it for the world.

 There’s a song playing in your head. One you’ve never heard before. It’s beautiful though. So happy. You’ll have to write it down. Find out if you’ve written it in the moment or if you are simply remembering it from long ago.

 You still can’t remember how you got here. All you remember is dark. And cold.

 Dark and cold. Dark. Cold. A gunshot.

 The memory is foggy, but it’s there. The scene in front of you changes. The song is still playing. Its positivity doesn’t match the scene.

 It’s like you’re watching a movie. Spencer is holding you. You squeeze your eyes shut. You want to go back.

 Back to your kids.

 Back to being happy with Spencer.

 Back to running. Playing. Being in love.

 Then you hear beeping. It’s quiet at first. Drowned out by the song in your head.

 Then the song is getting quieter. The beeping getting louder.

 Then the song is gone. You can only hear the beeping.

 You remember everything when you open your eyes. It comes back to you like a wave crashing over your head, dragging you back into the ocean.

 Instead of focusing on the trauma, you focus on the song.

 It only takes 30 seconds for you to find your phone on the table next to your bed, open it to the voice memos app, and start recording.

 You sing as much of the song as you can remember. It’s not hard since the feelings behind it are so strong. The first verse comes from the forth night you spent with Spencer. You couldn’t sleep so you convinced him to get coffee with you. It didn’t take much convincing for the coffee part since he’s pretty much addicted to the stuff. It took some convincing for him to agree to where you wanted to go though. You wanted to go back to his favorite coffee shop, but he said you could just get some in the hotel. You managed to convince him to go though. He insisted on driving since he now knew you didn’t like it much. The gesture did not go unnoticed. You knew he didn’t like driving either.

 The chorus, second verse, bridge, and breakdown are jumbled, but they’re all there. It’s harder to get it right because it’s not coming from memories of you time with Spencer. It’s coming from what you hope to do with him. After a few tries, you’ve got the whole thing in order.

 You lay back in your bed, the song replaying in your mind as you fall back asleep.

 --

5 hours and 42 minutes. It’s been 5 hours and 42 minutes since you were wheeled into surgery. Every member of the team has gone up to ask about your condition at least once.

 The nurse they’ve been bombarding with questions walks into the room and immediately all eyes are on her.

 She escorts the team out of the waiting area into a private room before she says anything. “Since Ms. L/N is a high profile patient, we have a certain protocol to follow. All I can tell you right now is that she’s out of surgery, and she’s stable. Her security team is on the way and will need to approve any and all visitors. Once approved, her doctor can give you more information.” And then she leaves before any questions can be thrown at her.

 Everyone breathes a collective sigh of relief when they hear that you’re stable. That relief is replaced by frustration when they realize they have to wait to see you. Especially for Spencer. If he could walk more than two steps in this tiny room, he’d be pacing it. Once he starts rambling, not a single team member dare to interrupt him.

 It must have been 25 minutes of fidgeting, mumbling, and checking their watches before Carrie walked into the room, interrupting Spencer’s rant.

 “I don’t see why our badges aren’t enough proof that we can- Carrie. Finally, can we go see her now?” Based on the look in Spencer’s eyes, anything other than an affirmative answer would not end well.

“Spencer, of course. I just had to confirm your identity in person. It’s standard procedure when she’s in the hospital. For safety reasons. The doctor should be coming in any minute and she can take us to her room.” As if on cue, the doctor walked in.

 “Hello everyone, sorry to keep you waiting. Ms. L/N’s surgery went very well. The bullet was removed and all the internal bleeding was stopped before it got too bad. As you know, we’ve got her in a private room. She can have visitors, but limit it to one or two people at a time. Do you have any questions?”

 Spencer knows somewhere in his mind that he should ask the doctor everything about your condition, but he can barely keep it together enough to shake his head no. He doesn’t trust himself with words right now.

 “Alright, follow me to her room.” A parade of agents, along with Carrie, follow the doctor down twisting hallways to the private wing. “Now, remember one or two at a time. Last I checked, she was still asleep.” Spencer’s gaze drifts from the doctor to look at you through the window. At first glance, he would’ve sworn your eyes were open, but when he looked back again they were closed.

 “Once I go in there, I’m not coming back out until she’s awake.” He turned to the rest of the group.

 “Spence, it’s okay. You go in. Let us know when she’s awake.” JJ gave him a reassuring hug before her and the rest of the team wandered back to the waiting room.

 Spencer and Carrie walked in slowly, as if any sudden movement could hurt you. For the first time in his life, Spencer’s mind was completely empty.

 There were no statistics. No miscellaneous facts. Nothing.

 He looked at you, asleep in a hospital bed after you saved his life, and he allowed himself to just feel.

 It took a strange amount of concentration for him to only feel. His brain wants to butt in with statistics about the surgery or to count your breathing so he will notice any change in the pattern. But, he blocks it out. For you.

 He sits down in the chair beside your bed, grabs your hand in his, lays his head on the side of your bed, and feels everything.

 He feels all the love he’s been denying for the past week. He feels all the relief of knowing you are okay. He feels all the pain of watching you slip away from him. He feels everything he’s ever blocked out with numbers and statistics. And it’s exhausting. To feel so much at once.

 Without thinking about it, he feels his eyes grow heavier with each added emotion.

 Love.

Relief.

Pain.

Sadness.

Greif.

Anger.

Fear.

Gratitude.

Happiness.

 Just the prospect of being happy is heavy enough that Spencer falls asleep.

 The first thing he notices is that he’s running. He’s chasing someone. But not like he normally has to. No. There’s no unsub. Nobody is in danger. He’s playing a game. With children. His children. His and Y/N’s children. He has three daughters. The twins are older, around 6. The youngest is 4. They are helping him chase their mom. His wife. He’s built quite a future for himself in his head. He listens to the sounds of laughter, memorizing each individual’s laugh.

 He feels something squeeze his hand and he’s awake. Groggy, but awake. He wants to go back to the dream. To remember what pure happiness feels like.

 Then he remembers where he is. And why he’s there. The grogginess is gone. He’s alert in an instant. He’s looking at you, but you aren’t focused. You’re mumbling under your breath, looking for something in the sheets with your one free hand.

 “My phone. Where’s my phone? Was it real? Did I dream it?” You seem so flustered, and he can’t fathom why your phone could be so important, but he finds it for you nonetheless.

 “Thank you!” He watches as you rapidly open your phone, intently staring at the screen as if it might disappear.

 “What are you-” Before he can finish the thought, a voice- no, your voice is playing from your phone.

 “It was real…” You are clearly in a daze, but the happiness in your voice is contagious. Suddenly Spencer is smiling, pulling you closer to him as the lyrics to your song play in the background. He peppers soft kisses over any piece of skin he can reach. Your giggles fill him with even more love. Even more happiness.

 When the two of you finally separate, he asks the first question he can think of. “When did you write this?”

 You think back to your dream. The love. The joy. The pure happiness. You feel Spencer brushing the tears off your cheeks before you even realized you were crying. “It came to me in a dream. I… I guess I woke up earlier and I wanted to remember it. The dream. The song. It was all so beautiful. So happy. You were there. And then when I woke up I just recorded everything I could remember.”

 Spencer is looking at you with such adoration that you almost feel shy. You want more than anything for that dream to be a reality. Not right away obviously, but in the future for sure.

 “It’s beautiful.” His words are soft and low.

 “It’s about you.” If you weren’t in a hospital bed, you might be inclined to think you were still in a dream. “About us.”

“I love it. I love you.” Spencer whispers the words into your skin. Almost like it was involuntary, it slipped out like a breath.

 “I love you too.” He kisses you again, before the sound of the door opening breaks you two apart.

Carrie rushes in when she sees you’re awake, not realizing the moment that had just occurred.

 “Oh, Y/N. I’m so glad you’re okay!” She squeezes you lightly in a one armed hug, the other hand carrying a tray of coffees and a paper bag. “I brought coffee for Spencer and a scone for you!”

 “Well, I hope you poured a mountain of sugar into it. He likes it sweet.” You turn to smile at the man only to find him already looking at you.

 “Only as sweet as you.” You laugh at the cheesiness of the moment, but you blush anyway, squeezing his hand. “Thank you, Carrie, for the coffee. I should go let the team know you’re awake.” He kisses your forehead before he walks out of the room.

 “Oh honey, you have a lot to fill me in on.” Carrie is looking at you with the biggest smirk you’ve ever seen. She has been your head of security for 4 years, and the two of you have become close friends through all the crazy experiences. Although, nothing as crazy as this.

 “What do you mean? I told you I thought he was cute…” You really have no hope of hiding this from her, but you can mess with her a little bit.

 “Yeah, but kissing you on the forehead? Calling you sweet in the corniest of ways? What’s going on? Tell me!!” You could leave her hanging, but you are really feeling the need to gush.

 “I wrote him a song. In my dream. I think it conveys everything pretty clearly.” You play the song for her, again remembering how you felt in the dream. When it’s over you’re nearly in tears again.

 “It’s stunning. Just so beautiful. I’m glad you’ve found someone who makes you so happy.” You can tell she’s nervous about something, and you’ve got a pretty good idea of what.

 “Carrie, don’t worry about me. I really think he’s the one. I’ve never felt this strongly, especially so fast. And I know what you’re thinking, fast might not be good, but we’ve spent so much time together. I mean, think about it. How long does the average date last? 2, 3 hours? At that rate, we’ve already been on roughly 37 dates! And that’s if you don’t count the hours we spent sleeping, which we also did together!”

 Carrie snorts at that. “Yeah, sleeping.”

 “No, I mean actually sleeping.” You try to stress the point. “He kissed me once, but the rest of the time was spent getting to know each other, writing songs, him working on the case, and sleeping. Eyes closed, pajamas on, sleeping.”

 Her eyes soften, the smile on her face widening before she responds. “Okay. I won’t worry… too much.” You’re just about to tell her about the dream when the door opens again.

Penelope comes storming into the room with flowers and a teddy bear, whisper shouting about how happy she is that you’re okay. Just before you turn to give her your full attention, you can see Derek and Spencer talking in the hall.

 --

 “Come on Pretty Boy, what’s going on there?” Derek’s wearing his usual smirk for whenever Spencer’s love life is concerned.

 “What do you mean?” Try as he might, Hell would have to freeze over for Derek to stop this line of questioning.

 “I mean, I see how you look at her. Hell, we all watched you fall apart in the waiting room. What’s the deal? C’mon man, fill me in!” Spencer doesn’t know how to describe it. He doesn’t know how to convert the emotions he’s recently accepted into words, so he tries something else.

 “She wrote me a song.” Spencer’s words are wistful. He’s transported himself back into dreamland. Back to the kids and the games. Back to happiness.

 “Kid, it’s more than that. She wrote all of us songs.” Derek’s words cause the dream to sleep away yet again. .

 “No, well yes. Although technically we wrote that song about me together. I mean, she wrote me an entire song. In a dream.” This time, Derek replies too quickly for him to slip back into the dream.

 “Reid. You’re not making sense. You dreamt that she wrote you a song?” Derek’s words are comforting, like he’s trying to figure out the best way to help Spencer convey his emotions without pushing him too far.

 “No. She said after her surgery, she had a dream. About me. About… us. The song was playing in the background.” Derek nods, finally understanding his friend.

 “Okay, so what was the song about?” Again, his words are soft.

 “Us. The time we’ve spent together and the time she wants us to spend together in the future.” It’s taken Derek this long into the conversation to realize why Spencer seems so out of it. He’s happy. He’s not faking it. He’s not hiding behind statistics. He’s just happy. Plain and simple.

 “And that’s what you want to?” He can’t help but smile, really truly smile, at the pure look of adoration that Spencer wears when he looks through the window at you.

 “More than anything.” Derek pulls him into a hug. Normally, hugs like this are typically reserved for when they just saved each other or after a particularly bad case. This case, although involving Spencer’s kidnapping and a trip to the hospital, had a rather positive outcome.

 “Good. You deserve it man.”

 --

  A few days later and you are itching to leave the hospital. You’ve been working to reschedule your tour dates so you can fully recover before performing again, but even with that it’s incredibly boring to be stuck in the hospital for so long.

 “Good news. You can leave the hospital tomorrow!” Spencer walks in, followed by the rest of the BAU team. They’ve been taking turns visiting you, something you suspect Spencer asked them to do, but you don’t really mind. You’ve actually become good friends with most of them.

 “Yay!” Before too much celebration can occur, you’re passing out USBs to each team member. “I’m glad you’re all hear. I managed to record some preliminary versions of your songs! Listen to them whenever you’d like, or don’t that’s cool too. Either way, I’ll make sure to get you the properly recorded versions when I get a chance to go into the studio. I included some thoughts about other inspirationsas well, so don’t feel bad if there is a lyric that doesn’t really match you.” The majority of the team give you thanks and endless praise before Hotch clears his throat.

 “Our songs? Did I miss something?” You chuckle at that. The man clearly doesn’t miss anything ever.

 “Nobody told you? The first day I met you all, Pen asked me to write a song inspired by her. Trust me, it wasn’t hard. She’s a fountain of inspiration. Then when I was waiting for Spence to get back so we could go to the hotel, I came up with one or two for everyone!” You can’t tell if Hotch is more or less concerned now than when he was out of the loop.

 “So I have a song? What is it?” The rest of the team can’t hide their smirks. It’s clear they never get to see their boss act this nervous.

 “Well, it’s on the CD!” He groans at the idea of waiting when everyone else already knows. “But, since everyone else got a sneak peak, I’ll give you one too. Wasn’t it beautiful running wild till you fell asleep? Before the monster’s caught up to you… It’s okay, just wait and see. Your string of lights is still bright to me. Oh, who you are is not where you’ve been. You’re still an innocent.” You give everyone a minute to think about the lyrics before the silence is too much for you to take.

 “I’m sorry if that’s weird! It’s just, the first time I saw you, and there was this look in your eyes. In all of your eyes, but yours the most.” You are looking straight at Hotch. “Like you’ve been through some really terrible things, and maybe you had to do some things that can be hard to deal with. But, that doesn’t make you a bad person or anything, ya know? That’s where the inspiration came from…” You can’t tell if your rambling helped or not. The profilers are so hard to read. Pen is subtly crying near the side of your bed, so you pull her in for a hug. Before you know it, the rest of the team is joining in.

 “It’s not weird at all. You are pretty good at reading people, ever consider becoming a profiler?” Hotch is clearly trying to lighten the mood, but his expression conveys how much he appreciates the song.

 “I think this will be my first and last case. Clearly I’m not that great at talking down the bad guy.” You shudder to think of putting yourself in that position again.

 “From what I heard, you did a pretty decent job. The ending was exactly what we expected unfortunately. Plus, you can definitely hold your own. I heard you flipped Morgan over your shoulder like a ragdoll.” Rossi’s comment earns laughs from the entire group.

 “Please, I just caught him off guard. Although, I don’t think I’ll ever forget the look on his face afterwards.” Again, the groups laughs. “I just wanted to thank you all. For protecting me, but also for visiting me so much. You really know how to see the positive side of things.”

 “Anyone willing to jump in front of a bullet for Spencer is definitely a friend of ours.” JJ chimes in.

You can’t help but truly smile at the team. It seems you’ve found yourself another family, and you couldn’t be more grateful.

tag list:

@mac99martin , @wecouldbreakthedistance , @spencerhotchner , @girloncorneliastreet , @itsametaphorbriansblog , @moonshinerbynight , @meowiemari , @justanotherfangirl  , @im-so-wonderstruck , @eevee0722 , @raining13lemonade​ @dilaudidwinchester​ , @silverdagger69 , @thatsonezesty13 , @ladyravenclaw , @uwucorpse , @dark-night-sky-99 , @thechloethings , @http-cherries , @emilouu

[sunshineandbnha]

Thanks For the Save - Kirishima x reader

Word count: 2,129

Warnings: nearly dying

A/n: I have not finished the Sports Festival arc yet, I just saw something on one episode, had the idea and thought "Hmm, it's his birthday soon!" I may go back and edit this later after watching more. I wish I could have written something that was about his birthday, but this is what I got for ya'll. Also it's also been a month since I got a tumblr account and started this blog. So it's my blog's 1 month anniversary along with Kirishima’s birthday.

~

"Sports festival?" You turned around to the girl who had mentioned it.

"The Sports Festival. Where the entire school showcases their abilities in games for everyone to see. One of the biggest events. It's also a great opportunity to be noticed by agencies," she added with a twinkle in her eye.

"I know what it is, who doesn't? But already?"

"Yep!" She bounced on her toes, causing her short brown hair to sway. Definitely one of the most peppy girls in the class.

Your breathing quickened at the news. This was it. This was your chance. You couldn’t afford to mess up. Of course. Your grades would suffer from training. But you never even wanted to end up in the business course in the first place.

"What do you mean?" You had fought the urge to stand up when you heard it.

The person in front of you stayed as calm as ever behind his wooden desk. "You failed the entrance exam. But, we believe you're better suited for the business course."

"The b-business course?" Your eyebrows knitted together in frustration. Your heart had a temper tantrum, only restrained by your ribcage.

"Your parents recommended it and are already beginning to fill out the paperwork. What do you say? We would be happy to have you."

Your hands clenched on your knees. Of course your parents wanted you to join the business course. They thought you weren't cut out for being a hero. That didn't stop you from taking the entrance exam, but clearly that didn't work.

Your mind raced. What were you going to do? What could you do? You didn't want this and it would be torture to go to the same building as the hero cou- wait! The Sports Festival! If you were in the school you could participate in the Sports Festival and get another shot! They would see they were wrong and that you did have talent. Plus you would have extra time to train, in secret of course.

The day had come. There were crowds of people spilling into the U.A. grounds, a strange sight as a student. The place almost seemed completely transformed, now feeling like a festival ground rather than a school. You were happy that in the past the security check weren't as strict.

"You know what? Sign me up."

There was another reason it felt different. When you were there as a spectator, it all felt lighthearted, a break, and your heart raced in anticipation for the games. It was racing now too, but in a mix of adrenaline and anxiety. You weren't sure if you liked it. What was once a fun place suddenly felt nerve racking.

What if you couldn’t do it? What if you blew your chance? What if you never became a hero?

You took a deep breath. You had to do this. You shook your arms in attempt to loosen them and relax.

It was time. The obstacle course had been chosen and everyone stood at the gate. Waiting for all three lights on the red gate to turn off.

Three

You took another deep breath.

Two

What if you couldn’t do this? What if you weren't cut out for being a hero?

One

No, you were! After all that training and hard work. You had to. You had this.

"Start!"

Instant chaos insued. Everyone pushed and shoved to make it through the gate. One person's elbow jabbed you in the face, causing you to temporarily forget about everything aside from the pain. You held your nose and snarl.

Why was it so narrow? You'd think-

That’s when it hit you. They were already getting the weaker students out of the way. You began to use your abilities and leaped over someone when a sudden burst of cold struck your skin. It caused you to flinch, and thus make a mistake that almost cost you your momentum. You focused all your attention on getting out, and only learned someone had frozen the ground from the blinding reflection on the road ahead and resounding complaints.

It was a constant struggle to even continue moving, feeling like you were giving your all to even keep up, but you managed to keep moving forward.

When it finally seemed to be letting up, the ground began rumbling. The vibrations tickled your feet. You began to slow down, looking around frantically to figure out what was causing it. For a second you were afraid that the ground was going to open up. You looked ahead and saw what it really was. It might actually be worse.

It was the faux villains, the robots from the examine that had haunted your dreams and invaded your thoughts. Your heart rate quickened. Your lungs took in more air. No. No. No. Not again. You couldn’t fail again. You weren't going to fail again.

The other students also froze at the giant robots towering over you. Rolling closer. Well, everyone except the half and half kid. He was already past the first layer of smaller bots and facing the ones the size of buildings. He waved his hand out. Instantly, ice climbed up the robot at a tremendous rate. Glittering ice spears covered it. A rush of white mist covered the whole area.

A thought suddenly struck you. The robot was frozen. And there was a mist, meaning maybe the smaller ones wouldn't be able to detect you. You could easily just run through. Before the chance left or the mist cleared, you began running.

The cold air enveloped you and nipped at your skin. It stung your lungs as you kept breathing it in. You didn't know if you ever ran that fast before. Through the mist, you spotted something solid coming towards you. Then a red light above it. You slid and dodged the robots arm just in time. Now to run right past or through the frozen robot.

You heard some kids yelling behind you.

"I wouldn't do it if I were you," you subconsciously heard. It was the boy who had frozen it. He was a lot farther ahead of you now.

Now you were paying attention.

"I froze them when they were unbalanced," he finished calling out.

Your heart dropped into your stomach. A look up confirmed the robot beginning to tip over in your direction. It was too late to turn back and you froze.

The very same robots present during your failure were tumbling on top of you to end your life. It felt like a nightmare you would've had. You hoped it was a nightmare otherwise your life might be cut short.

If you were in a movie, everyone would have screamed at you to run and called you stupid. You were screaming at yourself and calling yourself stupid. But your legs stayed motionless. It was happening to fast and slow at the same time. The green metal quickly approached you, but you still couldn-

"LOOK OUT!"

Suddenly you were tossed aside.

Something touched you, you flew through the air, then you tumbled onto the ground.

A crash resounded and you instinctively curled up on yourself and covered your head. You held your breath when a cloud of dirt washed over you. Once your heart slowed down a fraction and you could think again, it suddenly occurred to you that someone had thrown you and saved you. It nearly gave you a heart attack, between the panic of suddenly being in the air and the shock of falling coursing through you. But otherwise, you would be dead.

Wait.

Your eyes widened. "Oh no." That person was with you, where the you would have gotten crushed. They would be under the robot.

You got up and stumbled to the wreckage. Were they alive? Could you dig them out? Was it too late? This was all your fault, if you hadn't been in the way...

However, before you could even think of a way you could use your quirk to get him or her out, there was a crashing sound. You looked up to the source, just in time to see someone break out the top.

"Like I'd die!" A boy with spiky red hair yelled as be broke free. It may have been your imagination, but his skin appeared rock-like.

You breathed a sigh of relief when you saw him. You suddenly remembered a flash of red in your vision just before you were thrown, and his voice matched the warning you received just before.

He looked at the path ahead angrily. His mouth was moving, but you couldn’t hear what he was saying. You strained to hear what he was saying and managed to catch the end.

"She could have been killed if I weren't there!"

At that moment he looked to you. You suddenly felt put on the spot and tensed up. What should you do? Wave? Smile? Would that be weird? Your heart speed up as you panicked. His gaze softened when he looked at you. What was he thinking? Oh, you should probably thank him. Should you do that now? Would it be a good time or would that be weird?

Before you could decided. There was another crashing sound and a metal person popped out. This distracted him again and they both started running on top of the wreckage.

Oh, that's right! The race! You needed to get going. You couldn’t afford to lose! You couldn’t let almost dying be for nothing.

You seemingly scrambled to start running and felt like an out of control rock rolling down a hill.

You bit your lip as you looked in his direction. You would have to thank him later.

You spotted him later. You were walking around and your eyes scanned the people around you, but one caught your eye. You did a doubletake. Red spiky hair. It was him.

"Hey!" You called out before even thinking about it.

He turned to look at you and you suddenly felt put on the spot again. You stopped a few feet in front of him. ... What were you going to say again? Argh! Oh, right!

"I- uh, thank you," you blurted out before you could mess up. "Thank you for saving me, y'know, when the robot kinda fell." Curse your awkwardness of speaking to strangers your age!

His inquisitive expression changed to one of joy with a large toothy grin, showcasing his sharp teeth. "No problem. It was the manly thing to do. I'm really happy you're alright."

"Yeah, me too. Thank you." You already said that. "So, um..." Say something! What were you doing? "You're in the hero course?"

"Yup!"

"Awesome. That must be cool."

"It sure is. What course are you in?"

"Business course."

"Oh! Lots of smart business stuff I wouldn't understand?"

"Probably not. Though some of it is just logic. Though... I didn't want... to be there," you slowly admitted.

"Really?" He tilted his head. "Then why are you taking it?"

"Oh, my parents wanted me to do it. Thought I'd be more successful as that than a hero." You said it like it was all a joke. Like everything was fine. Maybe it was the fact that no one else asked about it, but you dropped the act and stared down. "I only agreed because I knew if I was technically in U.A., then I could participate in the Sports Festival. I could get another chance to be noticed and put into the hero course. I trained really hard for it too."

His gaze softened as he stared at you, absorbing every word.

"I... really thought the Sports Festival would be my second chance," you continued.

He stayed silent for a second. Then he put his hand on your shoulder. It caught your attention and you looked up at him. "Maybe you could train with me sometime," he suggested.

"Really!?" You took a step back. "You'd be okay with that? I don't wanna bother you." You brought your arm close to your chest. Why would someone in 1A want to be around someone like you?

"It wouldn't be a problem at all. I love to meet new people, especially if they have the same passions as me." He used his thumb to point to himself with the other hand on his hip. "So are you in?"

A smile grew, illuminating your face. Your whole body seemed to lighten from an invisible load. "Yes! I would love that! Thank you."

"No problem. By the way, I'm Kirishima. Kirishima Eijirou," he introduced himself as you walked off together.

You did the same and soon began falling into a conversation that felt so natural. The exchange was easy, seamless, and you laughed. The first real laugh you had in a long time.

[chickensarentcheap]

Best Part of Me -Chapter 56

Warnings: profanity

Tagging: @innerpaperexpertcloud​, @c-a-v-a-l-r-y​, @alievans007​

An hour before the initial team meeting, Tyler gathers privately with Anil; a chance to discuss the ‘rules and guidelines’ they’d drafted up when agreeing to run the mission together. While normally not one to hand over even partial control of a situation, it had been an easy decision to make. Anil a seasoned businessman with years in special forces; extensive working knowledge of weapons and hand to hand combat, unlimited resources and trustworthy informants with their ears to the ground. He never would have been able to pull off all the organizing and delegating on his own; his military days and his time as a merc seeing him as the one who followed plans and orders and got his hands dirty. Even with his years in the game, it’s still a lot to learn; going from simply part of the team to running the entire show. When it comes to the job, the only way to truly learn is to be thrown into the deep end.   Whether it’s running things behind the scenes or being dropped into the middle of an already volatile and unpredictable situation. You’re never fully ready; no real way of preparing yourself when no two missions are ever the same.

While the feeling of emptiness remains, it isn’t nearly as profound as it had been the night before; the ache in his chest still there, but not as painful. It’s a classic case of homesickness. Something he’d experienced every time he left for a job, but not to such an enormous extent. It isn’t just about missing what he left behind; from his wife and his kids to the view off the back deck and the sound and smell of the ocean. It isn’t just a longing to kiss her and hold his baby girl and hear his kids’ laughter and voices and see their smiles. With every other job he’d been able to handle whatever was thrown at him; to just roll with the punches -literally, at times- and think quick on his feet and improvise if need be. But this is different; far more complex and dangerous. With the bounty on his head, it was hostile territory before he even stepped foot on it. And it isn’t just his life hanging in the balance. His entire world...his entire existence...is being threatened. The stakes have never been higher, and even one simple mistake, at his hand or someone else’s, could destroy everything.

Both hearing her voice and Koen’s tough love -along with a hearty meal- had done wonders to ease some of the emotional suffering; sleeping surprisingly well, waking only to take some pain meds and then immediately drifting off again. Waking had been another story; disoriented at first, hand blindly reaching for that warm, soft body that’s normally beside him, only for his fingers to encounter cold, vacant sheets.  It had taken his brain several minutes to get over its confusion. Not even  remembering he was even in Mumbai; initially questioning if she’d gone ahead without him when it came to the kids’ morning routines, then wondering why the hell it was so quiet. That’s when the fear and the panic kicked in; the feeling of absolute dread that something horrible had happened to his entire family.  And if it hadn't been for the cautious hand Koen had put on his shoulder and his voice -surprisingly and uncharacteristically soft and soothing- saying “Easy, mate. Easy”, he’s pretty certain he would have had a full out panic attack.

Three hours later and his nerves have finally calmed.  The reality of the situation finally settling in; his focus and determination to get the job started taking precedence over all other feelings. The homesickness lingering  yet not threatening to devour him; able to concentrate on the conversation at hand and the very detailed and concise report on the screen of the laptop open in front of him. He’s had  little to say; silence enabling him to take in the information and plan around it. Organizing things in his mind; already designating the harder tasks to those he knows can handle them. With Rata in town now -having arrived from Cairns only two hours early- it makes four (including himself) with extensive military backgrounds; him and Nathan with time already served as mercs. Ovi, as eager as he is, is their weak link. He has no actual experience and this isn’t the ideal job for someone to be learning on. If the stakes weren’t so high, Tyler wouldn’t mind the kid tagging along and shadowing him. But he simply doesn’t have the time to babysit; his focus needing to be on getting shit done and keeping himself alive.

“You’ve said very little,” Anil comments, and moves to fill both their now empty coffee cups from a carafe in the middle of the table. They’ve sought privacy in the hotel’s private conference room that had been promised to the team upon arrival; sitting down before the briefing to ensure they’re on the same page.

“I’m not much of a talker.”

“A man of action and very few words.”

Tyler nods in agreement.

“You miss home.” It's a statement, not a question.

“That obvious, huh?”

Anil gives a small, sympathetic smile. “More than a little. But to be honest, it would concern me if you didn’t miss home. You take great pride in being a family man.”

“Only thing I’ve done with my life that I AM proud of,” Tyler admits.

“Not your military service or the people you’ve helped as a mercenary? They don’t fit in your vision of things to be proud of?”

“Not really. I wouldn’t say killing people for money is something to be proud of. Or boast about but my kids are. For the most, I know I’m doing right by them; that I’m not screwing them up too much at least. I’m giving them a good life and a pretty stable home and they’re growing up seeing me love and respect their mother. When I’m old and gray and they’re good people and they’re treating others right and loving with everything they have, THAT’S something I can go to my grave being proud of.”

Anil nods slowly, considering Tyler’s words.

“I was something I never thought I’d have again,” he says. “A wife. Kids.”

“You were married before? Had children?”

“You can’t tell me you didn’t see THAT in my file. I read it; I know it’s all in there.”

“To be quite honest, all I was concerned with was your track record as a mercenary. Your success rate.”

“My kill sheet, you mean.”

“That was one of your major selling points, I must admit.”

“My first marriage didn’t end well. There were a lot of things to blame, but my own issues and bad decisions played the biggest role. And I didn’t think I’d get that chance again; that I’d fucked up so bad I didn’t deserve to have it.  And then I met Esme and things happened pretty quick between us and now…” he shrugs. “...now it’s almost seven years and five kids later.”

“You felt you weren’t worthy of a normal life?”

“I guess. I guess I felt my mistakes were too big to be forgiven and that I didn’t deserve to be happy. Then I got into the job and I figured no one would want to get with some guy that kills people for a living. And then came the drinking and the meds.”

“You were in a bad place,” Anil concludes.

“Yeah, it was pretty bad. It GOT pretty bad. I started taking the most dangerous I could, hoping someone would put me out of misery because I was too much of a coward to do it myself.”

“You were meant to live Or a bullet WOULD have found you. Whether someone put it in you, or you did it yourself.”

“Someone DID do it for me. A fucking teenager. A street thug. Shot me from behind and left me with this…” he rubs the tips of his index and middle fingers over the scar on the side of his neck. “...I came so close. So fucking close. And the worst part of it? I came that close to right when I decided I didn’t want to die anymore. Because someone had come along and made me feel alive again after years of feeling like a goddamn zombie. She gave me a reason to stick around and keep going. This hope that her and I would make something out of nothing. And maybe that sounds crazy seeing as we only knew each other for a really short time, but it’s the way it went. I came close to losing everything but it really became anything.”

“She saved you,” Anil says “On that bridge.”

“She saved me in every way a person CAN be saved.  And sometimes she still does. It hasn’t been easy; being with me. We've had a lot of hard, shitty times. But she’s been the one constant; the one thing I know I can count on. The one person that always has my back no matter what. She hangs in there. I don’t know why half the time, but I’m glad she does.”

“You should be grateful,” Anil gestures at him with his coffee cup. “For what you have. Especially for someone in your line of work.”

“Believe me, I am. No one else could do it. It takes a strong fucking person, and she’s the strongest I know. And there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for her. Or my kids.”

“Which is why you’re here.”

“I don’t care how many lives I have to take. Or how I have to take them. No one fucks with my family.  I don’t care how much money or power they have. Because I’ll stop at nothing to keep my family safe. Even if that means I have to give up my life to do it. As long they survive. That’s all that matters to me.”

“They will be safe,” Anil assures him.  “At my home. I’ll have only my best men working. Around the clock.  Nothing will happen to them under my roof, that I can promise. The best people on top of the best security system money can buy. No one is getting close to them.”

“And I want to believe you, mate. And I want to have all the faith in the world with your people and your money. But I want to put someone there, too.  Someone I know I can trust. We haven’t always seen eye to eye, but I know they’d get the job done if it came down to it.”

“What is your man’s name? I'll do my own background check. I’ll…”

“Nik. Nik Khan. I know that you know who she is.  That you have a ‘working relationship’, whatever the hell that means. She’s the one I want. I worked for her for years and I know how good she is. I know the things she’s capable of. That’s who I want.”

“And you’re certain that she’ll do this for you? Put all the differences aside to do you this one favor?”

“She was the one that offered all the help in the first place. I never went to her. I think it’s safe to say she’ll do it.”

“And Ovi? What do we do with him? It would be dangerous for him...and us...if we allowed him out onto the streets. He’s had no formal training, no real experience with weapons…”

“Use him as a translator. Bring him along when we need to get information out of someone. And he can drop his last name. That’ll make people cooperate.”

“It’s risky,” Anil sighs. “Playing that kind of game.”

“Mate, this whole fucking thing is risky. We don’t even know where most of these guys on the list are. He drops the old man’s name and people will come to him.”

“Lure them? Ambush them?”

“You got a better idea? Because I sure as hell don’t. We’re going into this shit blind. More than the half the addresses on that list you gave don’t even exist. So either you made a mistake, someone gave you bad information, or you’re fucking with me. And you better hope it’s not the last one.”

“It’s the information I was given. From my people. Truly you don’t think I would go into business with you, offer my own home to your wife and children, give you access to all my resources, if I was planning on double crossing you.”

“Six months ago, I had a guy jump through some pretty big hoops to get to me. So yeah, I think you just might.”

“I am in this for my brother,” Anil insists. “To avenge him. His life was torn apart by Mahajan and Amir Asif. Neysa lost her husband;  Aarav lost his father.And for what? A battle between drug lords who deserved nothing more than being put down in the street like rabid dogs. I’m a man of action, myself. I don’t play games. If I wanted you dead, it would have happened already.”

A smirk tugs at the corner of Tyler’s mouth. “Kind of bold of you to assume you’d be able to get it done and not wind up in a body bag yourself.”

“And that...that confidence...that edge…that’s exactly why I wanted to go into business with you. You and I are a lot alike, you know. Our backgrounds, our experiences, our trust and faith in our skills and our abilities. Alone, we’re dangerous. Together, even more so. Your family is safe; nothing will happen to them. I will make sure of that. And I’ll do whatever I have to make sure you return to them. We’re going to have many years of working together, and I very much look forward to it. We’ll be very successful. As long YOU don’t cross ME.”

“I don’t intimidate easily, mate.  I’m not in this to fuck you over. I’m in this to protect my family. That’s all that matters to me. I’ll do what I need to go, you just make sure you get shit done. Mahajan can’t still be breathing when all of this is over.”

“Oh believe me,” Anil says. “He won’t be.”

****

While the others gather in the conference room prior to the team meeting, Tyler retreats to the front lobby. Finding a small alcove that exists of nothing more than a simple wooden bench; tucked away from the foot traffic and the noise. And he’s slightly annoyed when one of Anil’s men move closer  in an effort to keep both an eye on him, and ward off any potential threats. There’s no way anyone could close without Tyler seeing them coming, and all the protection he needs sits in the holster on his right hip.  

He uses his personal cell to call home; both grinning and having to to hold it away from his ear when Millie answers with a shriek that even the ‘bodyguard’ can hear from ten feet away.

“Daddy! Mommy said you’d call before bed and you did! I knew you would! I knew that the bad guys wouldn’t stop you from calling us.”

“Nothing can stop me from talking to you guys.”  The mere sound of her voice and the thought of that unruly hair, those huge blue eyes and that bright smile with its missing teeth, returns the tears to his eyes and the tightness to his chest.  This is wrong. All so fucking wrong.  Having to be apart from them in the first place.  And that’s what makes the rage and the need for revenge begin to simmer yet again. That fact that someone ever put him...them...into this situation.

“I miss you,” Millie says. “I miss you doing my hair before school. Mommy’s good, but she’s not as good as you at it. And I miss how you tuck me in. Like a Millie burrito. The monsters can’t get me when I’m a Millie burrito. Do we get to see you soon?”

“I don’t know,” he admits. “It depends.”

“On what?”

“How busy things get. There’s a lot going on and I can’t see you guys until some of it is taken care of. But Auntie Nik will be there; when you arrive. I asked her to go and stay with you guys. Is that okay?”

“I guess. It’s not her fault that you have to leave. Not this time, anyway. But when will you get to see us? Soon?”

“I hope so. Are you okay?”

“I’m a bit sad,” she admits. “Because you’re not here. And ‘cause I don’t get to see you for a bit. And mommy’s sad too. She won’t admit it, but I know she is. Her eyes don’t look the same when you’re gone. When you’re here, her eyes are really sparkly and she smiles a lot. But now her eyes aren’t sparkly and she isn’t smiling much. And that hurts my heart; to see mommy sad. Why is she like that? We’re going on a trip. That should make her a little bit happy, right?”

He clears his throat noisily, then runs a hand over his face. Placing it against his forehead, eyes closed, elbow perched upon his knee. “She’s probably just tired. You guys are being good, I hope. You’re not giving her a hard time, are you? Eating all your dinner? Cleaning your rooms?”

“We’ve been good. We haven’t been fighting or arguing. I haven’t punched anyone in the face. Yet.”

“How about you not punch them in the face EVER.”

“Can I KICK them in the face?”

“No kicking, no punching, no head butts. No nothing. You can’t go through life beating people up because they make you mad.”

“But isn't’ that what you do?” Millie inquires. “People make you mad and you get to beat them up. That’s your job.”

“There’s a little more to it than that.”

“Sometimes you get to kill them?”

Tyler sighs. “Sometimes.”

“But they deserve it because they try to kill you first. So you have to kill them. That makes it okay ‘cause you don’t want to die. And you don’t want mommy or any of us to die either.”

He frowns. “What…?”

“I heard you, daddy. I heard you talking to mommy. I was pretending to be asleep, but I heard you guys talking. About why we’re really leaving. Because the bad guys said they were going to hurt us. So you wanted us to be closer so you could protect us if you had to.”

He has to bite down on his bottom lip to keep a string of expletives from tumbling from his mouth. This is NOT what he wanted. It’s the last goddamn thing he wanted.

“Daddy, it’s okay,” Millie says. “I’m not scared. The bad guys don’t scare me anymore because I know you can beat them up and you won’t let them anywhere near us. You always protect us. Always. You’re not gonna stop now.”

“I’ll never stop protecting you. Not even when you’re married and have kids of your own.”

She giggles. “I don’t think my husband would like my dad around all the time.”

“He doesn’t have a choice. And he won’t protect you like I do. No one can do that. Do me a favor, yeah? Don’t tell your brothers what you know. Keep it to yourself, okay? And don’t tell your mother either; she’s worried enough. She doesn’t need to be worried about that too. Hear me?”

“I hear you. I’ll keep my mouth shut, I promise. If the bad guys DO find us, will you come and see us then?”

“Of course I will. In a heartbeat.”

“But they won’t, right? Find us?”

“You’ll be safe,” Tyler assures her, then looks up as Nik hovers two feet away, hands shoved in the pockets of her well tailored slacks; concern in her eyes and furrowing her brow. And he gives her a small, almost weary smile before adding, “Auntie Nik will make sure you’re safe. You can trust her. I trust her. With you and your brothers and your sister. And your mom. No one else I trust to watch over your guys. I gotta go. I got some things I have to take care of. I love you.”

“I love you too, daddy. I miss you.”

“I miss you too. Tell your mom I’ll call her a bit later. Give her a huge hug and a kiss from me.’”

“I will. Are you still wearing your bracelet?”

“I am,” he confirms. “I’m never going to take it off. And you’re right; I DO think of you when I look at it.”

“I’m going to make a matching one for me. So that when I look at mine, I’ll think of you and smile. Because I really miss you. I miss you reading me bedtime stories and taking me surfing and fishing and all that fun stuff. It hurts my heart and my tummy when you’re not here. I don’t like it when you’re gone and I can’t hug you.”

“I don’t like being gone either.” His voice wavers with emotion. “It hurts my heart too. I’ll see you soon, though. I promise.”

“Not soon enough though.”

“No. Definitely not soon enough.”

“I love you, daddy. We’ll talk soon, yeah?”

“Very soon,” he assures her. “I love you, Amelia. Remember that, okay?”

“I will,” she promises, and then disconnects the call.

***

He presses end on his cell, then sits staring at the blank screen for several minutes. Thankful that Nik doesn’t speak or make a move to approach him. Simply giving him the space he needs to cope with all the emotions surging through him; loneliness, heartache. Rage that Mahajan has even threatened his family and put him in such a position. Guilt because he’d even gotten his kids dragged into such a huge, shitty mess. Had he just pushed her away seven years ago...if he just hadn’t been so fucking selfish...none of this would be happening.

“You okay?” Nik finally asks, when he shoves the phone into the side pocket on his cargo pants and then lays his palms against his forehead; thumb rubbing at one temple, index finger working on the other.

“Do I look okay? Do I honestly look okay?”

“I’m sorry; that was a stupid question to ask. Mind if I sit?”

“I don’t give a shit. There’s not much I give a shit about anymore.”

“I know this is hard,” she says, as she sinks onto the bench beside him.   “I know what this is doing to you; being away from them.”

“No. I don’t think you do. And if this is where you lecture me about getting my shit together and how I need to put my personal life aside and not get emotionally involved or some other bullshit you’re going to spew, save it. I know what I have to do. And when it’s time to do it, I’ll do it. Just right now…”

“All I was going to say is that I understand. I get how hard it is for you; leaving home. And how difficult it is this time around, considering the circumstances.”

“You’re not going to tell me that is all my fault? That I’m a selfish bastard for ever getting married and having kids? For bringing this shitty fucking life in the first place?”

“Nope. I’m not. Because you’re already busy saying all of that about yourself. I will tell you it’s bullshit. That you deserve a normal life. That out of all the people who tried this while still doing the job, you’re the one who deserved it the most. That you’re pretty much the envy of everyone who's tried to have that kind of life but have failed miserably. No one hates you the way you hate yourself, Tyler. And I’ve been telling you that for years.”

“So is that why you’re out here?” He asks. “You think I need to be talked down off some ledge? I’m fine, Nik. I miss home. I miss my wife and my kids and I’m fucking pissed that all of this is even happening. But once this gets going, once I get back into it and that first name is crossed off that list? All that is going to matter is crossing off the rest.”

“It won’t be that easy. You know that. Because Mahajan will know it’s you. IF he doesn’t already know you’re here. Only takes one rat to sink a ship.”

Tyler scowls. “You think we have a rat? That we have something to worry about?”

“I think there’s people around you that you shouldn’t trust. That you’re relying on a little too much. That you should step back and rely on yourself, not them. I’ve known you a long time, Tyler. I know how you work. And you work best on your own. Don’t put too much into other people. That’s all I’m saying.”

“What do you know?”

“Nothing for certain yet.  Just things I’m looking into. You’ll be the first one I come to if I get the answers I want. And I’m sorry; for the way things ended between us.”

“Nik...not now...there was never an us…”

“I don’t in that way. I mean work wise. Friendship wise. You left for a reason; a very good reason. And I should have accepted that.”

“You also should have accepted that I was married and just left me the fuck alone. Instead of trying to screw up my life. Over and over again.”

“I’ve apologized for that. A million times. And  if I could take it all back, I would.  I was hurt. That you chose her over me.”

“I didn’t want you in that way,” Tyler argues. “There was no choice to make. It was never between you and her. It was just her. That’s it. And I’ve told you this how many times? Even if Esme hadn’t come along, there still wouldn’t have been an us. But she DID come along. And she’s my wife and the mother of my kid and if you’ve got some ulterior motive behind being here or you’re gonna start your shit again…”

“No ulterior motive. I want to put everything behind us. Leave the past where it should be. Can we do that? Or least TRY to do that? I know it won’t be an overnight fix.  It’s going to take a while to get over   everything. But isn’t it worth a try?”

Tyler nods. “I guess. But I’m serious, Nik. I’m not letting you screw up my marriage. Because I love her. More than I ever thought I could love someone. And I’m not leaving her, or my kids, for you or anyone else.”

“I know. And I hear you. Loud and clear. And speaking of kids, Addie is gorgeous. Esme let me hold her at the party. All that dark hair and those huge dark eyes? She’s definitely the odd duck out of the five. A very beautiful odd duck, mind you. And so tiny!”

“Yeah, she’s a wee one. So much like her mom. Looks just like her. And Esme deserved that; having at least one just like her.”

“I hear you even have a pet name for her.”

He grins. “You did, did you. Who told you that?”

“Don’t be shy about it. Or embarrassed. I think it’s cute; daddy’s little peanut. A guy like you turning into a big softie when it comes to his kids. Especially with his little girls. There’s something very compelling about you as a girl dad. It’s so easy to picture you boys; not so much with daughters. This big, tough guy with all his tattoos and his edginess and his ability to kick ass at the drop of a hat, getting all weak over his little girls.”

“I’m not weak.”

“I don’t mean like THAT, and you know it. I mean it in a good way. There was always that compassion and that humanity lingering inside of you, and it just took Millie and Addie to get it out of you. Not that the boys didn’t help. I’m just saying that you, with girls? There’s something pretty special about that.”

Tyler grins. “I thought you were going to say it’s karma considering some of the not so wise choices I’d made when it came to where I stuck my dick,”

“Your taste in women often had me both bewildered AND concerned. But there’s no karma involved.   You were given those girls because you’re damn good at taking care of them. Of ALL of them.  Never thought I’d see you braiding hair and playing Barbies and having tea parties.”

“Fuck, don’t say it so loud, I have a reputation to uphold.”

“Trust me, nothing takes away from the fact that you do the job as well as you do. And it’s good to see you back at it. A bit of a surprise, mind you. And I really do wish you’d have given me a heads up. About the business thing.”

“I should have,” Tyler admits. “I realize that now. But it was never about fucking you over. Or about revenge. It was about needing something to do. I wanted back in the job without being right in it. And starting a business made all the sense in the world. I wouldn’t have to leave home as much. It’s not fair that Esme’s been practically raising those kids on her own. This way, I can do the job, take care of my family, and provide them. That’s all it was ever about. And I’m sorry. That I didn’t reach out to you and let you know. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

She smiles, then leans her shoulder into his. “That means a lot. Especially coming from you. I know it’s not easy for you to say the ‘s word’.”

He chuckles. “No. It’s not.”

“And I’m sorry too, For reacting the way I did.”

“Nerves were already pretty raw after New Zealand,” Tyler reasons. “I guess we both could have handled things different. And thank you; for offering to help. Coming here yourself, bringing your people, your resources. I appreciate it.”

“You’d do the same thing for me if I needed the help.”

“Yeah,” he agrees. “I would. In a heartbeat.”

“I spoke to Anil. He told me what you want. Me at the house.”

“I understand if you don’t want to do it. I know you probably came here wanting to get your hands dirty. So if you don’t want to do it…”

“I DO want to do it. And thank you. For trusting me with that. With THEM. I know that’s not easy for you; trusting people with your family.”

“If there’s anyone I DO trust with them, it’s you. Because I know what you’re like when you’re on a job. How focused and committed you are. I know you won’t let anything happen to them. I also know it’s probably going to be really weird with Kyle there.”

“I’m going into this with no emotional ties. I’m going into this like I would any other job. I’m all in. Nothing will happen to Esme or the kids. Not on my watch.”

“Thanks, I mean, I’d rather be there myself, but…”

“You need to do what you have planned. That’s where your focus needs to be. Trust yourself, Tyler. Your skills, your instincts. Trust yourself first and foremost. Promise me that.”

“Nik, what…?”

“Promise me. The things I’m looking into...the people I’m looking...I’ll tell you all about them when...and if...I get answers. For right now, trust yourself out there. Only yourself. Got it?”

He nods.

“Keep your friends close and your enemies closer,” she says, then stands up and smooths down the back of her slacks. “You do that, you’ll live through this.”

****

“The plan is to have most of you working in pairs,” Yaz says, as he stands at the head of the conference table, casting images from his laptop to the hotel provided smart board. “We’ve partnered Koen and Rata together given their extensive military service alongside each other, and Anil and Nathan together until things move to the prison at a later date. Then, Anil will work with Ovi to gain access to Mahajan. The prison, as rundown and overcrowded as it is, has extremely tight security and an army of heavily armed guards. It won’t be just as easy as going in there, carrying out the job, and getting out. More time and effort will be needed for that, and we may end up needing more people. We’ve got Nik going to head  security at Anil’s private residence, and Tyler working on his own. For now.”

“Why on his own?” Koen speaks up. “Why isn’t he with anyone?”

‘Because he has the experience the rest of you don’t have,” Yaz explains. “And he works better by himself. This isn’t about large scale take downs, so if any of you were thinking that kind of thing would happen and this would all be over with quick? I’ve got some bad news for you. We are going after two or three at a time. And given what Tyler was able to do in Dhaka when he took down an entire apartment on his own…”

“That was even years ago,” Koen interjects. “A lot’s changed in seven years.”

“I work better alone,” Tyler speaks up. “You heard what Yaz said. I don’t need to be babysitting. I’ve got shit to do and I don't need to be worrying about whoever’s tagging along.”

“It’s not safe for anyone to be working alone, never mind you,” Koen argues.  “Aren’t you the one with the bounty on his head? Wouldn’t it make sense if you’re the one with a sidekick watching YOUR ass?”

“I don’t need anyone watching my ass. I’m not a rookie. Worry about yourself, for fuck sakes.”

“Tyler has been doing this for years,” Nik says. “His record speaks for itself. He knows what he’s doing and if he needs help, he’ll ask for it.”

“Like hell he will,” Koen grumbles. “This reeks of you,” he addresses Tyler. “Always thinking you can handle shit on your own.”

“When it comes to the job, I can. So why don’t you just sit there, shut up, and let Yaz continue. Anil and I are running this and this is what we came up with. Deal with it.”

“How come I don’t get to go with anyone?” Ovi inquires.  “What am I supposed to do? Just sit around and wait until I’m needed?”

“That’s exactly what you’re supposed to do,” Tyler replies. “You’re here to translate. And when we need you to translate, we’ll let you know.”

“I didn’t come all this way just to translate. That’s not what we talked about. I should be going with you.”

“Because that worked out so well the last time?” Tyler asks. “Last time we were in a job together, mate, I ended with me getting shot in the throat. I don’t want a repeat of that.”

“I was a kid then! I was fourteen. I’m almost twenty one. And I’m a merc now so…”

“Whoa...whoa…” Yaz holds up his hands. “...you are not a merc. You’re not even close to being a merc. That and that…” he nods at Nik, then Nathan, “...those are mercs. That…” he gestures towards Tyler. “...that’s a merc. You’re a baby merc.”

“He’s not even out of the womb yet,” Nathan chuckles. “Fetus merc.”

“Fuck you,” Ovi snarls. “Tyler’s been training me. On weapons, hand to hand combat…”

“And you’re nowhere ready to be out there,” Tyler says. “You think a few hours of training and you’re done? Do you know how long it takes to get used to doing this? To be confident doing it? You just don’t walk about knowing the ropes. You got a  long way to go.”

“I know how to shoot a gun.”

Rata scoffs. “Even I know it’s not as easy as just knowing how to shoot a gun. Do you have any experience? Any military background? Time at a shooting range? Anything that suggests you can properly deal with the weapons we’re handling?”

“I shot Gaspar,” Ovi points out.

Rata frowns, then turns to Koen. “Who the fuck is Gaspar?”

Koen shrugs.

“That was a handgun,” Tyler reminds Ovi. “And it won’t do shit for you when you’ve got an automatic rifle being fired at you. You’ll be dead before you even get one shot off. You’re not going out there. You’re going to stay here and help where you’re needed.”

“I’m needed out there!” Ovi argues. “You shouldn’t be out there alone!”

“Now the kid and I are agreeing on something.” Koen says. “You shouldn’t be out there alone.”

“You shit the fuck up,” Tyler orders. “I’m YOUR boss, remember? This is what’s going to happen. Either you fucking deal with it or leave. I don’t have time for your shit. Or…” he glares at Ovi “...your shit. Do I need to remind you whose family these people are going after? I don’t need anyone’s fuck ups destrying my entire life. So if either of you have an issues with how things are going to go, there’s the fucking door.”

Nik pushes her chair closer to the table and lays her hand on his shoulder, effectively calming him.  “The plan that Anil and Tyler have come up with is sound,” she says. “It makes the most logical sense. He does work better on his and that’s the way he prefers it. Until either of you have the experience he does and it's either of your entire lives on the line, keep your opinions to yourself. No one needs to hear them.”

“As I was saying,” Yaz continues. “These are the teams you’ll be working with. At least to start out. Things are subject to change as they go on and become increasingly difficult.  Once Mahajan realizes Tyler is in Mumbai and behind the killings of his men, things will heat up and then the game plan will have to change. Now you’ll all be fitted with radios and earwigs. State of the art. Wireless. So if you have to go into a place where your mark is, they won’t make you the second you walk through the door. Communicating with each other is to be done only through the SAT phones you were given yesterday. They can’t be bright by any outside source; I’ve made sure of it.  From here on out, the marks will only be referred to by number. One to twenty five; no names. Just faces and locations. The list will be split between teams and you’ll go from there.

So far, only we’ve only been able to verify the locations of one to four. One and two will be handled tomorrow,” he  brings two black and white photographs up on the smart screen. “There are our first two marks. One and two. Tyler will be in charge of taking them out and I think it’s only fair he gets the first shot. Every morning at nine am, one and two exit their respective residences on the twelfth floor of the Grand Hyatt. Tyler will enter the elevator on the fourteen floor. I’ll have my own eyes inside the elevator, but I will  take out the hotel’s security cameras in the elevator and on floors eight to fourteen.  The only problem is that I can only have them down for three minutes before the hotel backups kick in. So Tyler has those three minutes to enter the elevator, wait for one and two to board, carry out the job, and then get off somewhere before the eighth floor. He’ll exit the hotel down the south stairwell, which doesn’t have security cameras.. Once he’s on the stairs, he’s safe to move at his own speed. But between the time he gets on the elevator and gets off it, he has three minutes. That’s it.”

“Three minutes is not a lot of time,” Koen remarks.

“About two minutes more than I need,” Tyler says. “Why are you sorry about what I’m doing?”

“Well someone has to worry about you. You obviously don’t give a shit about yourself.  And neither do any of these people enabling you and your bullshit. Makes no sense that you’re the one working alone.”

“Wish I was working alone.”  Nathan speaks up. “No offence, Anil.  But I’ve been working alone since Nik hired me and all of a sudden I have to team up with someone? Gonna be a hard adjustment.”

“I am more than capable of being out there by myself,” Tyler informs Koen. “It’s how I’ve always done it.”

“Didn’t work so well for you in Bangladesh, did it.”

Tyler scowls. “We are NOT bringing Dhaka into this. Up until Mahajan fucked me and Saju killed almost my entire team and tried to kill me to get Ovi off me, everything was fine. Everything went fucking great. And had I not been played, Dhaka wouldn’t have ended the way it did.”

“But it DID end that way,” Koen argues. “And it almost ended permanently for you. And Esme. If you’d had someone with you…”

“I didn’t need someone with me. Were you there?”

“I’m just saying…”

“Were you there? Were you in the apartment when I took out all those hostels? Were you in the forest? Or on the streets? Were you on the bridge? Were you?”

“No. I wasn’t. But…”

“Well I was. I was there. And I did what I had to do. With the resources I had.  So don’t fucking sit there and act like you know how things went. You have no goddamn idea. So get off my ass and worry about what you need to do. This isn’t up for debate. This is the way it’s going to be. Don’t like it, leave.”

“You’re not invincible you know,” Koen informs him. “You think you are. You may think ‘cause you survived that bullet that you can survive anything.   But I’m here to tell you that you’re wrong. That your way of thinking is fucked and you need to stop just thinking about yourself and think about your wife and your kids.”

“I’m done,” Tyler pushes his chair away from the table and stands. “I’m not sitting here and listening to your shit. You weren’t there seven years ago. You weren’t the one who took a bullet to your neck.  Don’t sit there like you’re a fucking expert on Dhaka. And don’t you EVER preach to me about how I treat my wife and my kids. Everything I do is for them. Every fucking decision I make is about them and what’s best for them.”

“It’s alright.” Nik attempts to diffuse the situation, wrapping her fingers around Tyler’s wrist and tugging on his arm. “Just sit down and let Yaz finish. There’s no reason to…”

“I don’t need to be there. I know what I’m doing. The rest of you need to figure your shit out. And if any of you don’t like what Anil and I are doing, just leave. I don’t need your shit. I’ve got enough crap on my plate as it is.  The last thing I need is to sit here and listen to people bitch and moan.”

“Let’s just get through this,” Nik suggests. “Let’s just sit down and let Yaz finish and…”

“Let him go,” Koen says. “It’s what he does. He runs. When he doesn’t get his way or he doesn’t like what he’s hearing. He’s good at that. Running.”

“What the fuck did you just say?”

“Alright...alright…” Yaz steps in front of Tyler before he can advance in Koen. “...everyone’s on edge and everyone’s getting a little heated. Take it easy. Let’s walk.”  He drapes his arm across Tyler’s shoulders, leading him out into the hall and letting the door click shut behind them.

“I don’t need to be in there,” Tyler fumes.

“I agree. You know what’s up. You know what you’re doing. Why don’t you go and get something to eat. Or go work out. Go beat the shit out of the heavy bag for an hour or two. Just get your head on straight, that’s all I ask. We need you focused. Head in the game. Got it?”

“I know what the fuck I’m doing, Yaz. I’ve done this before.”

“I know. So go and calm down and do whatever you gotta do to get a handle on this. Because you’re not going to be any good to anyone if you don’t get your shit together.. And your wife and your kids are depending on you to get this done and to get it done right. That’s all that matters. THEY’RE all that matters. Right?”

Tyler sighs heavily, then nods in agreement.

“Go cool down,” Yaz says. “Call home. You and I can sit down and talk about this later. Go on…” he jerks a thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the elevator. “...before I drag you away myself.”

Tyler smirks. “I’d like to see you try.”

“It’s us smaller guys you gotta watch out for. We’re sketchy. Cagey. Haven’t you learned anything from being married to Esme for so long? The little ones are the most dangerous. Now go. Call home. Talk to your wife. Tell your kids a bedtime.  They gotta be missing you. And I know you’re missing them.”

“I’m a fucking weak bastard, aren’t I.”

“Because you love your family? There’s nothing weak about that. It’s being a goddamn human being, Tyler.  Or somewhere along the line did you forget that that’s what you are? You’re not a fucking robot. You FEEL things. If you didn’t, THEN  I’d be worried. You’re not the guy you were back in Dhaka. You’re not even the guy you were six months ago in New Zealand. So go and be human. Call home. Tell your wife you miss her and you love her. Say the same thing to your kids. Because you’re going to damn well regret NOT saying those things if this all goes to shit. And you don’t want that on your conscience.. If something happens them…to any of them...and there’s shit left unsaid, that  will fuck with your head. You’ll never survive that.”

A grin plays on his lips. “When did you get all wise and all knowing? Knock one girl up and suddenly you’ve got all the answers to life’s biggest questions?”

“Believe it or not, most of this I learned from watching you. How you are when you’re away from all of this.  The way you are with Esme and the kids. You’re totally different with them. You’ve found this separation between job you and husband and dad you and that’s fucking admirable. And you can bitch all you want about it makes you soft or that it makes you look weak or pathetic or whatever horseshit you tell yourself, but nothing can be further from the truth.  And if a guy like you can find that..that balance...that kind of peace...it gives the rest of us hope that we can too. And fuck anyone who thinks differently.”

“You’re good for my ego, Yaz.”

“Your ego needs to hear this shit sometimes. Because whether you want to believe it or not, you’re the horrible person you think you are. You think you don’t deserve the life you have. And I get it. WHY you think that. But you’ve got six people at home that love you and need you and want you around. And you do deserve that. So go and get your shit together. Clear your head. Talk to your family. Say the things you need to say. It’ll do you some good.”

Tyler nods in agreement.

“You don’t want regrets, man. If shit does go wrong and something happens to you, don’t go out of this world with things left unsaid. Because that’ll be on Esme’s mind for the rest of her life. And that’s not fair to her.”

“This whole life isn’t fair to her.”

“But she chose it. When she stuck around for you. That’s what you keep forgetting. It was her choice to be with you. And nothing you could have done or said, would have changed her mind. You got a great life, Tyler.  You gotta hang onto it. No matter what .”

“That’s why I’m here. So I don’t lose that life. So I don’t lose her. Or any of my kids.”

“Take that into tomorrow. That rage you’re feeling. That need for revenge. You take that into tomorrow and the day after and the day after that? You’re walking away from here. You’re going home. You don’t get your head sorted out, you’ll be going home in a body bag. And that’s not what your family needs. Get your shit together. Go do whatever you have to do to get your head in the game, alright?” Yaz claps him on the shoulder. “Wanna go grab something to eat later? You can give me some daddy advice.”

“Yeah,” Tyler gives a small smile. “I can do that.”

“Although I don’t know if I should take advice from you; you were stupid enough to do it FIVE times.”

“Might be six. Never know.”

“You really are a crazy bastard,” Yaz chuckles, and then playfully shoves him in the direction of the elevator.

[popolitiko]

Nancy Pelosi Doesn’t Care What You Think of Her.

And She Isn’t Going Anywhere

Molly Ball  Sept. 6, 2018

Loathed by the right, under fire from the left. Nancy Pelosi says she isn't going anywhere

Nancy Pelosi stopped caring about what people think of her a long time ago, so she has no qualms about eating ice cream for breakfast with a stranger. Dark chocolate, two scoops, waffle cone. It’s a freezing January morning in Baltimore’s Little Italy, where Pelosi grew up in the 1950s. “You know what’s good about ice cream in this weather?” she says. “It doesn’t melt down your arm while you’re eating it.”

We are sitting in an Italian café on Albemarle Street, alone save for the staff and Pelosi’s security detail, to whom she has offered coffee. The Trump era has many Democrats in a panic, but Pelosi inhabits a more cheerful reality. She is convinced that America has hit bottom, has seen the error of its ways and is ready to put her back in charge.

The 78-year-old former House Speaker knows what her critics say about her: that she’s too old, too “toxic,” too polarizing; that after three decades in Congress and 15 years leading her party’s caucus, she has had her turn and needs to get out of the way. But there’s a reason she sticks around. Had Hillary Clinton won the 2016 election, she says, “we’d have a woman at the head of the table.” When that didn’t happen, Pelosi realized that without her, there might not be a woman in the room at all.

Pelosi is one of the most consequential political figures of her generation. It was her creativity, stamina and willpower that drove the defining Democratic accomplishments of the past decade, from universal access to health coverage to saving the U.S. economy from collapse, from reforming Wall Street to allowing gay people to serve openly in the military. Her Republican successors’ ineptitude has thrown her skills into sharp relief. It’s not a stretch to say Pelosi is one of very few legislators in Washington who actually know what they’re doing.

But few people talk about her in those terms. Instead, Pelosi is regarded as a political liability. Republicans see her as their biggest asset, and hope to motivate their voters in the midterm elections by putting her image in television ads. Meanwhile, despite the hundreds of millions of dollars she has raised for her party, nearly 60 Democratic House candidates have returned the favor by calling for new leadership. Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez’s June 26 primary upset of one of Pelosi’s lieutenants, Representative Joe Crowley of New York, highlighted the restlessness of the party’s grassroots, and Pelosi’s erstwhile allies in the Congressional Black Caucus have pushed Representative James Clyburn to challenge her. Even the New York Times editorialized that she should go.

None of this fazes Pelosi. “If I weren’t effective, I wouldn’t be a target,” she says, working on her ice cream as leftover Christmas songs play in the background. The only part that bothers her, she says, is when women who are thinking of running for office tell her they couldn’t withstand the abuse. “I say, ‘Forget what they’re doing to me, because you won’t be that much of a target. But you will be a target, because this is about power. And if you look like you’re making headway they will come after you. And it won’t be a pretty sight.'”

The attacks on Pelosi are particularly ironic in this political moment. Since Donald Trump’s election, American women have poured into the streets, signed up to run for office in record numbers and surged to the polls. Many of them look a lot like Pelosi once did. They are brainy, liberal and comfortably situated moms who have looked at the political system with the exasperation of a person who has seen her husband get the laundry wrong and realized that she’s going to have to do it herself. If Democrats regain congressional power in November, as most experts expect, it will be by riding a tidal wave of female rage. But rather than tout their female leader–the first woman Speaker in history, and the odds-on favorite to reclaim the title–many Democratic politicians, both male and female, are running in the opposite direction. In this season of female political empowerment, Pelosi’s power still rankles.

It seems to enrage people that Pelosi feels entitled to things: money, power, respect. Of course it does–a woman is always held responsible for her reputation. Clinton, in her years running for President, was asked over and over again some version of the question, Why do you think people don’t like you? (Despite not being on any ballot, Clinton, too, figures prominently in the Republicans’ fall campaign strategy.) A powerful woman is always defined less by what she has done than by how she makes people feel.

Pelosi isn’t humble. Many women, she thinks, are afraid to show pride and need to see an example of confidence. Besides, making sure you get your due isn’t something you can delegate. One former Pelosi aide told me everything she does is rooted in this combination of obligation and entitlement: the sense that someone ought to do something, and she is the only one who can do it. Pelosi seems to feel no need to apologize for her status in the way women are expected to and men rarely are. Perhaps the assertion of ego by a woman is the most radical act there is: the refusal to submit or be subordinate.

It is not in Pelosi’s nature to cower or grovel. She will be who she is–liberal, privileged, unpopular–and let the chips fall where they may. To some Democrats, Pelosi’s is an attitude of unconscionable selfishness: she’s willing to damage her party to hold on to the position she believes she deserves. The story of Nancy Pelosi is, inevitably, the story of what people think of her. The way she is recognized and remembered, the way she is held to account. And so Pelosi doesn’t have the luxury of not caring about what people think of her: it’s the question on which her future, and the future of American politics, depends.

http://time.com/magazine/us/5388333/september-17th-2018-vol-192-no-11-u-s/

[twbfics]

Like A Hurricane

Summary: Bucky goes out to a bar and bumps into a familiar face from his days with Hydra.

Pairings: Bucky x Reader (from Bucky’s perspective)

Challenge: Hurricane by Luke Combs, by @yellowtheremarvelfan

Word Count: 5,580

Warnings: Smut, oral (of both kinds), unprotected sex

“We were meant to see this in the theatre,” Steve told Sam as he slipped the Forbidden Territory DVD into the player. Bucky smirked to himself from the kitchen as he poured the popcorn into a bowl. It was something from his past he’d only recently remembered – so of course Steve went out of his way to get hold of a copy of the original movie. The apartment he shared with Steve was small, so Bucky didn’t need his amplified hearing to hear Steve’s retelling of the story. “Except Buck ran into a couple of gals going to see The Gay Divorcee.”

“So you went and saw the Gay Divorcee instead,” Sam said, filling in the gaps.

Bucky returned with the popcorn in hand and sat down on the couch cushions they’d thrown on the floor. “Not quite,” he laughed.

“No, because we only had money for two tickets and Bucky over here offered to buy the girls’ tickets for them.”

“Hold on a minute. You’re telling me you paid for some chicks to see a movie by themselves? Smooth move.” Sam shook his head, hand diving into the popcorn bowl as Forbidden Territory started to play.

“I told them we were gonna get popcorn and meet them in there. Me and Steve used to break into the movies all the time when we were kids. Just slide in through the fire exit, no one noticed.”

“Except they’d gotten wise to it by then. We bust the door open to find a security guard standing right in front of us.”

“He chased us half a mile. Only stopped ‘cause Steve had an asthma attack and the guy felt bad.”

Sam drowned out Steve arguing with Bucky about the ‘real’ reason they stopped getting chased, because he felt his phone buzz in his pocket. He paused, popcorn halfway to his mouth. “It’s Natasha,” he interrupted. Suddenly Steve and Bucky were on high alert, movie forgotten. “It’s Clint’s last night before he goes back to the farm. She wants to go out for drinks.”

“All of us?” Bucky asked, his mouth dry.

“Yeah, you too Tin Man.”

Sam showed them the text: Can you drag the dinosaurs out of extinction for one night?

There was a tense moment as Steve and Bucky stared at each other. Forbidden Territory bumbled on forgotten in the background. “Clint’s the one with the bow right?”

“Yeah, he was on our side.”

Fuck. That meant Bucky owed him. He peered over at Sam’s phone, scrambling for an excuse. “Could’ve been a mistake. Maybe she meant dinosaur. Singular.”

“Nat?” Sam laughed. “You think she’s ever made a typing error in her life? Seriously.”

Bucky knew it wasn’t a mistake. Sam was right, Natasha Romanoff didn’t make mistakes. He knew how meticulous she was because he remembered training her back when he was the Winter Soldier.

He’d trained her alongside you. Or more accurately, he’d watched you getting your ass kicked.

As the Winter Soldier he’d stalked the floor, his back always to the cage as he watched you from every angle. You weren’t a trained assassin like Natasha and you hadn’t been pumped full of serum like the Winter Soldiers. Hydra said you had a special gene they’d activated that allowed you to transmit electricity at will to anything you touched.

He only spared a few words for Natasha: No skin contact. Your boots are insulated, use them. But his advice to you went from plentiful, to nothing but a cold disappointment. You couldn’t control your abilities, which made you weak. You were barely more than a civilian.

Natasha kicked you square in the chest and you collapsed, coughing for air.

“Hvatit,” he ordered, (enough), and Natasha backed off, leaning against the bars as she caught her breath. The Winter Soldier stood over you.

“She shocked me a little,” Natasha said, in English for your benefit.

“You didn’t flinch,” he shot back, never taking his eyes off you.

“I’m trained not to.”

“Get up,” he spat, firmly kicking your thigh. You got to your feet, bruised and exhausted, waiting for reprisal as he stared at you with those dead eyes. But he didn’t use words.

He swung for you with his fist but you managed to dodge the blow, more out of luck than skill. But as you readied yourself for the next swing he’d already changed tactics, grabbing your calf and pulling, which sent you falling hard to the stone floor. The force knocked the wind out of you and before you could get your bearings he was on top of you, his metal hand around your throat. You thrashed against him but he was immovable, and stronger than you could ever hope to compete with. It was futile but you grabbed his arm with both hands anyway, trying desperately to pull his hand away. He shifted his stance slightly, his knee digging into your hip and sending a sharp pain shooting through your body. If he wasn’t cutting off your air you would’ve screamed, but thankfully you did something much more useful. You managed to use your power – and with both of your hands on his vibranium arm you gave him a shock so powerful that he screamed and let go of you immediately.

It changed something in him. His eyes weren’t dead anymore, they were wide and confused. Scared. You could almost see him trying to work out what was happening. Where he was, why he was attacking a woman and whose eyes he could feel on him from the edge of the cage. It was the only human thing you’d witnessed since Hydra had brought you here and you reached out and touched his hand. He swallowed and climbed to his feet, backing away from you.

“Go again,” he croaked to Natasha – and if she’d noticed the change in him, she ignored it.

 You’d escaped Hydra two years before Bucky had and found sanctuary in a school full of mutants. Full of people like you. Hydra soon replaced you with a pair of twins, which turned out to be the last tenuous link Bucky had to you.

“Is the kid going?” Bucky asked. Steve knew where his mind had gone.

“Wanda? I don’t know. Her and Clint are pretty close, there’s a good chance she’ll be there.”

“Do you think—”

“Dude, you’re going,” Sam interrupted, already texting Natasha back. “It’s about time you get out of this goddamn apartment. Besides, I need to see these ‘women skills’ in action.”

The bar was fairly quiet, but then again it was Thursday night. It was the perfect reintroduction Bucky needed. The woman behind the bar was as polite to him as she was to the rest of the patrons who flirted with her and it gave him a chance to practise some of his rusty lines.

“Better watch this one,” Sam grinned at the barmaid as he grabbed some of the drinks. “He’s the kind of guy who’ll buy you movie tickets and never show up.”

Bucky laughed and shook his head, thanking the woman as he turned to take the last of the drinks back to their table, but a flash of blue stopped him in his tracks. Beer sloshed onto his boots from the sudden stop and he kicked it dry absentmindedly. A mutant was at his table, laughing with his friends. He hadn’t felt quite as secure since Wanda started hanging out with the mutant crowd – your crowd. He pulled himself together, giving the newcomers a forced smile as he set the drinks down. Steve gave him a knowing look. He knew all about you. You were one of the first people he tracked down on the hunt for Bucky – the only other Hydra escapee this decade. He could tell you knew Bucky from the look on your face and he pressed you about it until Professor Xavier ‘kindly’ asked him to leave. Thankfully, you weren’t with them tonight.

“There’s a lot of mutants, Buck. She doesn’t even live at the school anymore, don’t worry,” Steve smiled, slapping Bucky on the back. Bucky let out a deep sigh and forced another smile. Steve was right though. Just because you were one of them, didn’t mean you knew every mutant.

“You are Bucky?” asked the blue thing with a tail. Bucky’s stomach twisted up as the mutant nodded at his arm. “Y/N told me about your arm. How did you—”

Bucky didn’t hear the rest. He’d stopped listening. Because you walked through the fucking door. He jumped up from his seat and escaped back to the safety of the bar. Steve was beside him in seconds.

“Relax, she’s trying really hard Buck. She’s not a threat.”

“You’ve been in contact with her?” he asked, his voice strained. He didn’t dare look in your direction. Right now, he could at least pretend he hadn’t noticed you.

“We stayed in touch. I know about the kiss.”

The kiss. Either Steve didn’t know everything or he was being polite. During your time at Hydra, you and Bucky had developed a symbiotic relationship. He’d forget about your connection every time he was wiped but you found a reliable way around that. Natasha would kick your ass and eventually the Winter Soldier would become so frustrated with you that he’d attack you himself. Every time he nearly killed you, you learned more about controlling your power. But more importantly, every time you shocked him he got a little piece of his old self back. After every shock, he could remember you. What the two of you were secretly doing for each other. The last time you ever saw him, he had you trapped against the bars, holding you above the ground by your neck. Your legs flailed and the panic helped you produce your biggest shock of all. The problem with that was, you weren’t just touching his arm. Your back was against metal bars and the surge of electricity tripped the security system, forcing the cage doors open.

The lights turned off, replaced with the flashing red emergency lighting a second later. Sirens blared and a voice over the speaker demanded everyone return to their quarters. Natasha obeyed the command, but Bucky didn’t and neither did you.

It was the first time the two of you had been alone and somehow, you both knew it would be the only time. A second of nervousness passed where the two of you just stared at each other, before his hands were on your face and his lips were crashing against yours. Both of you knew there was no chance of escaping. There was just this frantic moment and you both intended to make the most of it. You fumbled with his belt, moaning under your breath as he pressed his tongue into your mouth. Just as he pushed his hand down your trousers, there was a voice from behind him.

“Sergeant Barnes.”

Both of you froze, your hand on his belt buckle and his hidden beneath your waistline. He broke the kiss and let out a shaky sigh, forehead pressed against yours and his eyes shut tight. Wishing he could stretch out just a few extra seconds. But he could hear the sound of footsteps running down the hall so he pulled back, sparing you one last look before he walked away.

“Wipe him and keep them separated. It’s time to move Y/N on to Phase Two.”

That was the last time he ever saw you. Until tonight.

 “I can’t do this Steve.”

Steve stared at him for a second. Bucky kept glancing in your direction but he wasn’t making any move to leave. “Two whiskeys on the rocks,” Steve ordered to the bartender who had been patiently minding her own business. Funnily enough, she’d been standing near the whiskey bottle. She probably recognised the look on Bucky’s face.

Bucky looked at you over Steve’s shoulder. You were talking to the blue mutant, and Bucky saw him mouth his name. Bucky. You looked at the table and then turned, clearly searching for him. Bucky took a fast step back, so Steve was blocking your view of him. Not the best hiding place if you already knew he and Steve were friends, but at least Steve was tall enough to hide behind now. The bartender set the glasses down on the counter and Steve gave her a sweet smile as he handed her a few bucks and told her to keep the change.

“There isn’t any change,” she laughed after counting it.

“I know,” Steve answered, still smiling. When the fuck did Steve get so smooth?

Bucky shook his head and pushed his glass away. “I’m heading back.”

“Clint’s not here yet. Drink. It’ll help you find your nerve.”

“I can’t get drunk. Neither can you,” Bucky reminded him.

“Doesn’t mean you can’t try,” Steve answered, leaning back against the bar and leaving Bucky out in the open. He quickly hunched over the glass, letting his hair fall in front of his face. “I haven’t seen you this worked up over a dame since Edith sent you that Valentine in eighth grade.”

“This isn’t about Y/N.”

Steve leaned in, like he was sharing private intel. “Thing is? It’s all about her.”

“Hi Steve,” came a voice that made Bucky’s shoulders tense. There was a pause and your voice became tighter as you added, “…Bucky.”

He swallowed. There was nowhere left to hide so he just nodded, keeping his head down. “Y/N.”

“You look good,” Steve smiled politely. “Doesn’t she, Buck?”

Bucky could’ve happily knocked him on his ass in that moment. Unfortunately, he settled for closing his fist around his glass, which cracked and shattered under the force and made him look like an idiot. The bartender jumped and Steve made apologies, offering to pay for the glass and cleaning it up. Bucky was ignoring him, partly because he was pissed off with the whole situation but mostly because without the glass as a distraction, he was forced to finally face you.

Steve was right. You looked good. Fuck. His memories of you hadn’t done you justice, because you looked so much healthier now you were free. His vanity made him wonder if he looked healthier to you too, or if he just looked as tired as he felt.

Your eyes moved from the broken glass, to him. “Do you want to sit down?” you asked and he found himself nodding and following you to a table just out of view of the others.

“So… you joined a school,” he said, wishing he still had the distraction of a drink to look at. Staring at the table didn’t quite cut it.

“Yeah. I’m not really a student though, I’ve just been getting help with the professor. He can control minds so he’s been undoing a lot of the damage that... well, we’ve been working through some stuff. We’ve been doing training sessions too.”

“Training,” he nodded. “What kind of training?”

You didn’t know him well enough to recognise the edge in his voice. This was the last place he wanted to be and you were the last person he wanted to be here with. But he was stuck here now and he was bitter. So he’d walk you right into a trap – the only way this conversation had ever been going to go.

“You know, how to control my power. How to use it.”

“Right. So you went from one organization that wants your power straight to another. Smart. You think it’s different because he calls it a school?”

He could hear himself being a dick but he couldn’t stop. You were caught off guard and looked hurt but there was this anger building up inside him that all seemed to be directed at you.

“We’re a family.”

“Is that what he tells you? Family don’t make you fight.”

“He’s not making me do anything!”

“You said his power is controlling minds, right? So how do you know?”

He could see the emotions flashing through your eyes. Disgust. Fury. Could he feel the hairs on the back of his hand stick up with the static in the air or was that just his imagination? He ignored the warning signs, pushing it further. “You can’t answer, can you?”

“I have to go,” you shot back, giving a tight smile that barely contained the explosion building inside you.

And you did. You left him sitting there on his own with a thousand things rushing through his head that he needed to get out. So he jumped up and stormed after you.

“It’s not my fault you left Hydra to join a cult!” he yelled, knowing no one inside would be able to hear him to hold him accountable. You walked faster, which did nothing to stop him gaining on you, yelling over your shoulder, “IT’S NOT A CULT!”

He grabbed you to stop you getting further away but whether it was mistake or habitual instinct, he’d grabbed you with his metal arm. You spun around, gravel crunching beneath your feet as you grabbed his wrist and shocked him. He yelped and let go immediately, stumbling away from you. For a moment he felt lost and confused. Vulnerable. Like a little boy who hadn’t followed orders. But when he glanced up at you, he didn’t see someone looking at him like he was a defective machine, barely worth the time it took to fix. He saw someone who looked ashamed of their own power.

“Are you okay?” you whispered, taking a step towards him. Your brows were all knitted up with concern. He recognised you. His anchor.

And you looked so beautiful.

He wanted to kiss you but this wasn’t some stolen moment in the Red Room. There were no alarms or guards turning this into a ‘now or never’ scenario. There was just the two of you in a quiet parking lot, with the night splayed out before you.

He sighed, as the first few drops of rain started to fall. “How’re you getting home?”

“I’ll call a cab.”

“Let me…” he started, then rephrased it. “Will you let me drive you home?”

You turned your phone over in your hands a couple of times and nodded.

“I’ll grab the keys from Steve. Don’t…”

“I won’t go anywhere,” you grinned, and he gave a half-embarrassed, half-relieved laugh as he took a few steps backwards and then finally headed back into the bar.

The atmosphere inside seemed so much flatter now that he wasn’t worried about you walking in. Maybe it hadn’t been dread as much as it’d been hope. He still didn’t trust himself to make sense of his own feelings, as much as Steve tried to help.

The table was full now. Clint had turned up – probably through the front doors like a respectable person and not the fire exit Bucky had chased you through.

“Hey man,” Clint nodded, patting Bucky on the back. “Heard these two knuckleheads dragged you out with them. Wondered where you were.”

“Hey, watch who you’re calling a knucklehead,” Sam grinned, beer in hand.

“Yeah, about that… Steve, I need to borrow your keys.”

Clint smiled sympathetically and said something about small steps, trying not to make a big deal out of it. Steve looked disappointed though, turning his glass around with his fingertips. “You can’t stay for one more drink?”

“It’s not like that,” Bucky sighed. “I’m taking Y/N home.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Sam interrupted. “You mean to tell me you hooked up with a girl and I didn’t even see it?”

Bucky couldn’t help grinning. Sam’s enthusiasm for everything was infectious, but the way he acted like everything was normal was what Bucky needed the most. Sam was the only one who didn’t look at him like he could fall apart at any minute.

Steve was hesitating. “You sure that’s a good idea?”

Sam tutted and jumped right back in with, “Cap, give him the goddamn keys.”

After another second of hesitation, he finally gave in and tossed Bucky the car keys. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

“Yeah, no fondue on the first date,” Sam smirked behind his glass.

Bucky said his goodbyes and headed back out to the parking lot, hearing Steve hiss “I wish I’d never told you about that,” to Sam over his shoulder.

His stomach dropped when he stepped outside and realised you weren’t there anymore. Maybe you’d just been humouring him. He couldn’t blame you – he’d done nothing but make your life hell in the Red Room and the first thing he did when he saw you again was yell at you. He leant back against the wall, keys clinking in his hand. The rain had picked up now, providing a static of white noise he couldn’t hear past. He hated that sound.

He briefly considered heading back inside but he’d had enough pitying looks for one night. He’d drive back to his apartment and make up some story in the morning. With any luck, Steve wouldn’t check in on him before he went to sleep.

“Bucky!” His head whipped to the left. You were there, on the far side of the parking lot, standing under a tree. “You gonna unlock the door or do I have to get soaked?”

The relief hit him instantly and a smile spread over his face. He braved the worst of the rain, rushing to the car and unlocking the door. Once he climbed inside and pulled the catch on the passenger’s side, you ran over and hopped in beside him.

“A beetle? Really?” you laughed. He’d never heard you laugh before.

“Yeah, Steve likes it,” he grinned, turning the key in the ignition. It took a couple of attempts before the engine started. You gave him the directions to your place and he drummed his fingers against the wheel nervously. Suddenly all he could think about was whether you’d invite him in or if this really was just a ride home. He’d done a good job of making all school-related talk off the table and since that was pretty much all you’d done since leaving Hydra, the car swelled with silence. It might’ve been comfortable on your end but Bucky was riding on his nerves so he scrambled for something to say.

“What’s the deal with the blue guy?”

“Kurt? He can teleport.”

“Right…” Bucky glanced in the rear-view mirror to make sure Kurt wasn’t hiding in the back seat. “But why’s he blue?”

You fell silent for a moment while you thought about it. “I don’t know. Seemed kind of rude to ask.”

“He recognised me you know. By my arm.”

This time the silence wasn’t a thoughtful one. Eventually he glanced over at you, trying to make sense of your expression. You were watching the rain through the window so it was difficult to tell. Maybe he was just trying to stroke his own ego but you looked… shy?

You cleared your throat before you finally answered. “We started talking when I was working on my training. I’d planned on doing it alone but he was insistent so uh… we said we’d do it together. Park up in that gap, my building’s just over there.”

He parked like you’d asked, frowning to himself. “Do what together?”

You rubbed the back of your neck, still hesitant to answer. Without the hum of the engine, the silence prickled between you. Only the heavy sheet of rain provided a distraction and it wasn’t a very good one. Eventually you mumbled, “Bust you out.”

“Wait, what?”

“You want a drink?” you asked, not bothering to wait for a reply as you quickly escaped from the car and ran up the steps to your apartment block, leaving Bucky in the car. He quickly followed your lead, locking the car before he jogged up beside you.

“What do you mean, ‘bust me out’?”

You managed to delay the inevitable all the way up to your apartment door, when Bucky finally took hold of your arm to stop you reaching for your keys.

“I was training,” you sighed. “So I could get stronger. Kurt was going to help me infiltrate Hydra so I could get you out. The professor knew about it. But just when I was starting to feel like I might be ready, Steve found me. Said you were on the run.”

“So… you were gonna come back for me?”

“Course I was. You think I was just gonna leave you in there and forget about you? You would’ve done the same for me.”

You were so certain about him in ways he couldn’t be. You’d seen something in him in the brief moments of clarity you’d afforded him back then and it felt too good to be true. But at least now he knew it wasn’t just in his head. You felt the connection as well.

He loosened the hand around your arm, running it up to your shoulder and then to your neck. His thumb traced your jawline, but before he could figure out whether kissing you would be crossing a line, you grabbed his shirt and pulled him into you.

He’d forgotten how good it felt to kiss a woman. Your lips were so soft that his own mouth sunk against them like pillows. He pressed you up against the door, trying to gain your full attention as you scrambled for your keys in your purse. It worked for a few seconds but as the kiss became more intense, both of you needing to catch your breath, it became obvious you really wanted to get inside and blindly routing around for the keys with one hand wasn’t cutting it.

“I can’t find my fucking—”

You didn’t need to finish the sentence, because Bucky slammed his hand hard against the door, right beside your head, and broke the lock. Then his lips were back on yours, one hand around your waist as he walked you backwards into your apartment.

“You better fucking fix that before you leave,” you laughed, as he kicked the door semi-shut behind him.

“I will, I swear.”

You didn’t turn the lights on but he wasn’t complaining, he didn’t want to be separated from you for a second. He was happy to let you lead him to your bedroom in the dark.

His hands found the edge of your shirt and dipped beneath it, and you raised your arms so he could pull it over your head. Thunder rolled outside as you unclasped your bra and dropped it to the floor. Bucky didn’t even take the time to look but he definitely took the time to feel. His mouth was back on yours as he cupped your breasts, feeling the weight of them and squeezing. They were nice – real nice – but he wanted something else.

“Can I taste you?” he whispered, hands moving from your breasts to your thighs. “I really wanna taste you.”

He took the breathy moan you gave as a yes. Lightening flashed and illuminated you for a brief second, sitting on the edge of the bed and pulling your jeans off. He’d forgotten how uncomfortable it was to have his cock straining against his trousers – not that he was complaining.

He got to his knees and pulled his own rain-streaked shirt over his head, tossing it aside with your bra. “You got anything? Protection?” he asked. You shook your head. “Shit… alright.”

“Can you pull out?”

“Uh… yeah. I can do that. Lie back.”

You did as he asked, lying with your legs draped over the end of the bed. Without your eyes on him, he could take the time to properly admire you as he unbuckled his belt and kicked his trousers off along with his boots.

Rain battered against the window as he put a hand on each of your knees and spread your legs wide. He didn’t waste time with foreplay, with slowly kissing or licking up to what he wanted. Instead, the first thing you felt was his stubble right at the top of your thigh and his hot breath against your clit. He took a slow, deep breath and groaned, edging closer, lips against your soft, plush skin. Your toes were already curling by the time he spread your folds open with his thumb and gave one, firm swipe with his tongue from your opening all the way up to your clit.

“God you taste good, Y/N.”

Then he went to work. Ten minutes felt like an hour with the torment he gave you, his tongue dipping inside you, sucking and pulling your clit into his mouth, keeping you trapped there and swollen with the suction as he lapped at you. Every time you got close, he pulled back just enough to drag it out longer. He started to use his fingers, leaving you without his tongue in favour of watching you stretch to accommodate him. He slowly thrust into you, getting a little deeper each time. Once he was in up to his knuckle, he pulled out and stretched you wider with a second finger, starting the whole process again.

He had to wrap an arm around your hips to hold you down, not that he wasn’t having immense fun watching you squirming around, pulling at the sheets and cursing him to let you finish. It wasn’t until your angry cries of “Bucky just stop fucking stopping!!” mellowed out into soft pleas and ragged breaths that he pulled his fingers out of you, wrapping them around his cock and stroking himself, smearing your wetness along his length as he gave you what you wanted.

He pressed his face into you, furiously lapping at your clit and using his free hand to pull you against him and keep you trapped there. He was moaning into you, rock hard now as you got louder and louder. Finally, when your thighs closed around his head and trembled, and your orgasm made you curl in on yourself, he forced your legs apart and pushed his cock inside you to feel you coming for himself.

Your eyes flew wide and you both groaned in unison as he fucked you through it, pulling another orgasm from you before the first had even finished. You wrapped your arms around his neck and he had the good manners to wipe the taste of you from his face before you kissed him. Most of it anyway. It didn’t seem to bother you as you pushed your tongue inside him and he happily kissed you back. It would’ve been a lie to say that he hadn’t imagined what would’ve happened that day in the Red Room if you hadn’t been interrupted, when he was on his own at night and couldn’t sleep. You were the only sweet memory in the horror of that place.

But being tangled up in you like this, your fingers digging into his hips and your legs twisted around his to help pull him deeper, was better than anything his sex-starved mind had conjured up. But it was hearing you call him ‘Bucky’ while you asked for it harder that almost pushed him over the edge.

“Oh shit I’m—”

He quickly pulled out of you, his hand taking over where you couldn’t while he cupped himself with the other, ready to protect you from being splashed. Or so he thought. What he hadn’t counted on was you quickly sliding down the bed, pushing his hand away and taking him into your mouth.

“What are you… oh fuck…” He pressed his lips together tight as you took over, your tongue flicking against his head. He gently tucked his fingers into your wet hair, struggling between not wanting to tear his eyes away, and not wanting to come right then.

“I can’t hold it…”

He pulled back a little to give you room to escape but your mouth followed him, bobbing faster against his cock as you worked him with your hand. That was all the permission he needed. He kept his eyes fixed on you for as long as he could, watching you take him in that beautiful mouth. He only had seconds before you pushed him over the edge and he had to bunch the sheets in his fists to keep him from groaning loud enough to disturb your neighbours. He felt your mouth tightening as you swallowed around him, looking up at him with those wide, sex-glazed eyes. It was the sexiest thing he’d ever seen.

When you’d finished you took his hand, leading him further onto the bed and lying against the pillows. He collapsed beside you, looking like he’d just discovered the meaning of life. It took him a moment to realise you were gazing at him and trying not to laugh.

“Sorry… that was uh…” he mumbled, trying to catch the words inside his head. “It was… yeah. Wow.”

You leaned over at pecked him on the lips, grinning at him. “You want some cocoa? I want some cocoa.”

“Yeah,” he said. “Yeah cocoa sounds good.”

His eyes followed you as you kissed him again and got up to walk to the kitchen naked. He heard you calling from the next room, “And you need to fix my lock!”

He grinned widely, rolling onto his front and burying his head into your pillow to hide his goofy smile. He hadn’t felt this happy in a long time.

[badatpseudonyms]

Country Music and Tequila

Some nights you just make poor choices. Most nights I make poor choices, when tequila is involved. Whether you want it or not l, the inevitable will find a way to catch up with you, especially when aided by alcohol. This is a story about a night where, by the grace of satan himself, I found myself headed to a friends house with a flannel and boots in my passengers seat. I sat in traffic with knots in my stomach thinking of all the times our plans had fallen through. Maybe that was for the best. But tonight was a perfect storm and everything came together, against our better judgement. A and I always had a habit of harmless flirting, but harmless flirting is all fun and games until it isn’t. Over the year and some change that we’d known each other we had experienced a wide range of emotions toward one another. I’d liked him and from what I can gather, his primary feelings toward me were lust and a little bit of guilt. In recent weeks we had been more verbally expressive of our flirtatious feelings but action was not an option so for the most part he avoided me and I pretended I didn’t notice or care. On this particular evening when I arrived at his house, I realized I had never been inside, and there were many reasons for this:

1) Due to the nature of how we met, I was just more or less a dirty little secret he had rather than a friend.

2) I’m assuming, because of reason one, I’d never met any of his family.

3) He lacked the ability to make a clean break from an ex girlfriend who hated me.

She was younger and very possessive and to her, any female friend was a threat. Considering the history of our friendship, that was fair in my case. But she didn’t know that. She would rather he be miserable and alone than have any contact with the women in his life and sometimes it felt like I was public enemy number one. The humor in it was that she had no idea who I was. We had even met face to face at my place of work and she failed to identify me as A’s forbidden friend. Regardless of her cluelessness, meeting her still gave me overwhelming anxiety. Lord know what she would have said or done if she’d known who I was.

For all the reasons listed above and maybe some more, the idea of entering A’s house had my stomach flipping. It felt like a step in the wrong direction. Maybe I was ok with not being so close to his life. It was too late now, as the next thing I knew I was moving toward the door and opening it into a room with a hand full of people and some country music playing. He had instructed me to just come in when I arrived and that was something I simply wasn’t comfortable with in any situation, so I was relieved when one of the first things I saw was his smiling face. As out of my element as I was, it made me feel better knowing that he was happy to see me. He hugged me hello and looked me up and down. It was then I remembered I had not changed since leaving work so I was still dressed head to toe in black and white stripes and chunky boots. He lent me his bathroom to change into something more appropriate for the bar we were planning on heading to and as I put on my new outfit I felt just a little more comfortable. My biggest worry at the moment was making friends with the group of people I’d never met in the kitchen. When I was finished I was offered shots and graciously declined, as I didn’t want my first impression on these people to be one of me spitting up a vodka shot onto the kitchen counter. It was surreal being in the house because the only time I’d seen it before now had been in Snapchat’s over the year we’d known each other.

Once everyone had had their fill of pregame shots we piled into some cars and were off to the bar. I felt a little better once we were on the way but the bar we were headed to was somewhere I’d never been. Country music and mechanical bull riding aren’t generally in my wheelhouse of likes or enjoyable activities.

We arrived and went inside. Once we were seated a bucket of beers was placed before us on the table, enter B. B is A’s brother and as previously specified, a family member I’d never met. I was introduced as a friend that A met through his time around the local ice rink and that was that. B took a friendly liking to me after that and made sure I was never without a drink in my hand, which I am eternally grateful for. After the first round a group of B’s friends showed up, a group nobody else knew. They joined in on the drinks but didn’t do much talking with anyone but B. A handful of them would look some of the girls up and down but I didn’t worry too much. A and I eventually split from the group, we watched some bull riding and did some bull riding ourselves. We ate snacks. We ran into people he knew. And eventually we ended up taking a shot or two. After more margaritas than I can remember and a shot B slipped another drink in my hand, at which point A made the executive decision that I was cut off. I didn’t object. For the next little while I danced with some girls I’d never met and he talked to an acquaintance from school. At some point it came to our attention that the rest of our group wasn’t even at the bar anymore so he called an Uber and we rode back to his place where there was a decent sized party starting.

It was simultaneously as we walked through the front door that A received something along the lines of his 20th call of the night from his ex. It came to my attention that she had been calling all night. He didn’t seem too shaken so I didn’t let myself dwell on it.

The inside of the house was filled with twice the number of people we had started the night with and things were getting fun. Drinking, cocaine, and a hot tub were all contributing to the ultimate party atmosphere that seemed to encapsulate all of us. The initial group we went to the bar with, the guys who showed up later, and a handful of people that were new to me stood in the living room and kitchen, spilling out the back door. One of the late arrivals at the bar was staring me down from across the room but as drunk as I was, I simply didn’t care. I partook in the party favors as much as I felt comfortable and before I knew it, it was well after 1 AM. I stood still in the middle of the living room to try to recall all the steps that had brought me to that point and find the time I had seemingly lost. At that moment I became very aware that someone was in my personal space bubble. I zoned back into reality to realize it was the guy who had been staring at me when we first arrived back at the house. Without missing a beat he very directly and abruptly said “Yo. You’re gorgeous. Can I eat you out?” What the hell? Is this real life? I very uncomfortably gave him a faint “No” as a reply. “Why not? You’re hot. You should let me.” My body tensed up harder and faster than it ever had before. I needed him to get the FUCK away from me but I was too afraid of confrontation to make that known to anyone outside of my head.

After what felt like an eternity of him making unbroken eye contact with me, I felt a hand around my waist. I nearly jumped out of my skin. I turned, and to my relief, it was A. My knight in worn out flannel. Hand on my hip and a no messing around look on his face, a very clear message was sent. “This your girl?” the strange pushy man asked. A did nothing but give a firm nod and my pursuer backed off. He continued to look at me like a piece of meat as he backed away slowly but eventually left me alone. I had never been more thankful for A in my life. I don’t think I ever got a chance to express my gratitude verbally before shit hit the fan.

Without warning, A dashed out the front door. “What the fuck? Where is he going in such a hurry, it’s 2 AM?” I thought to myself. B quickly cleared up my confusion. Since he wasn’t answering her calls, A’s ex took it upon herself to crash the party and was right outside. B gave me his sweatshirt and slipped me into the back yard where I ducked down. I found myself shaking from a combination of the October cold, being splashed with hot tub water by wanna be frat boys, and the onset of a panic attack. At some point, B must have realized I was more nervous than the situation called for and wanted answers. He asked me what was going on and if I was ok. I explained to him why A’s ex had every reason to hate me and why I feared her and why A feared her knowing I was there.

B usually isn’t the one to turn to for emotional comfort but in that moment he knew exactly what to do. Their home had been added to a few years prior and due to this there was a whole section of the house that hid behind a padlocked door in the last room of the hallway. Behind it was two bedrooms, a bathroom, and an entire man cave. It was like walking through a secret passageway. I curled up in one of the beds and this is where I rode out the majority of my panic attack. Through the all too thin walls I could hear some screaming and sounds of an altercation, but I had no way of knowing if this was the party or A and his ex having a verbal joust.

Time moved slowly and all too quickly at the same time. 2 gave way to 3, and shortly after 3 I could hear someone opening the padlocked door. I feared that she knew I was here. As footsteps approached the door to the room I was in, my stomach sank and I felt sick. I believe now that I may have just been too Intoxicated for my own good and those fears were irrational, but I was scared none the less. My fears immediately dissipated when I saw A walk through the door, frazzled but alone. He was covered head to toe in something sticky and faintly red. She had thrown his own concoction of rockstar energy drink and vodka on him in her fit of rage.

He seemed just as relieved to be in that room as I did because after that all we did was talk until we were both calm enough to go to bed. I asked if he wanted to stay in the room with me because his own bed was covered in sugary drink and alcohol. He took me up on my offer. He made himself comfortable, slipping off his pants and shirt. It was his own house, who as I to tell him he couldn’t sleep comfortably. I laid next to him in my leggings and his brothers sweatshirt. At some point he turned on his side and put his hand around my waist. I hadn’t noticed earlier but I definitely noticed then the sexual charge behind his touch. He whispered something in my ear. He been thinking about something I said recently. Something flirty and insignificant but something that was enough to make both of us feel an urge to act. I was so charged with emotions and alcohol and sexual energy that I turned my self completely around and kissed him. I was feeling a need to be closer to him, one that a kiss wasn’t satisfying. I think at that point we both knew there was no stopping and we stripped off the remainder of the clothes we had on and had sex there in what I had been calling my fortress. All the tension in my body from the rest of the night vanished and I felt safe. I felt taken care of. I felt like I was impervious to consequences.

The rest of that sequence is a blue but it doesn’t matter. What matters is that at very least, the night had our version of a happy ending. Even aside from sexual chemistry, A was important to me so the whole experience only brought us closer together in my opinion. I knew I could always count on him when I really truly needed it.

[ruined-rp]

Hello Addie and welcome to New Orleans, the city of The Damned. Thank you so much for applying, you have been successful for the role of Hayley Labonair. Welcome to the family, but for now it’s time to get down to business…

Head on over to the New Member Checklist, careful not to go down any dark alleys, it’s not safe here.

OUT OF CHARACTER:

Name: Addie

Pronouns: Anything of the feminine variety (she/her, etc)

Age: 21

Timezone/Country: EST

Triggers: N/A

Activity Level: 8 – I’m around nearly every day for at least one round of replies. However, I do have things like work and school that might mean I cannot be on every single day. However, I do normally have a pretty quick turn around and am always lurking on discord for plotting.

How Did You Hear About Us: I heard through a friend! The plot and intricate weaving of the shows are what made me decide to throw my hat into the ring. I have a special place in my heart for these three shows, and I’ve never quite seen them woven together in such a manner. I think it offers an opportunity to find grounds in canon but also gives the opportunity for interpretation and divergence, which I love.

Anything Else?: Excited to see how this roleplay unfolds!

DESIRED CHARACTER:

Desired Character: Hayley Labonair, queen of the wolves and my heart.

Why This Character?: In response to this specific rp, I want to play Hayley because I think her character has a lot of room to grow. In the actual show(s), she had connections that helped her grow and realize who she was. Here, she’s been thrown quite literally to the wolves, and she’s got no earthly clue what she’s doing. She has no one looking out for her, aside from Derek. I want to go through all the character building that needs to be done to make her into an alpha that’s worthy of leading the pack on her own accord. I want to expand her ability to let others in as her tumultuous life has left her rather incapable of developing and committing to relationships of any type. Hayley needs to learn that people aren’t always the enemy, and that no matter how it’s been in the past, she’s not invincible and immune to failure. I think it’ll be rewarding to help with the transition from a loner into an alpha that isn’t in power because of her namesake, but because she’s capable and able to lead the pack to a better tomorrow. In general, Hayley has always been my favorite muse to write. If you will, she’s likeable to a first language for me. I learned to play her through multiple scenarios until doing so was as natural as speaking. I feel that I have a grasp on who she is and her mannerisms because I’ve spent so long working at it. I’ve always loved her as a character, and I don’t doubt that I’ll ever stop having a soft spot in my heart for her.

Any FC Changes? No, Phoebe is an utter goddess.

Ships/Anti-ships: I’ve played out Hayley with a variety of significant others (Jackson, Elijah, Klaus, Tyler, and Derek to be exact.) Though, aside from an attraction to males, I have no firm headcanons when it comes to ships. I find that I ship based on chemistry that occurs in the writing rather than theory originating from the shows or elsewhere. I need to write against the other character and examine how my muse reacts to them before committing to a ship fully.

Headcanons: 1. Hayley’s not done digging for information on her parents. While she’s procured more information than she ever has, the wolf wants more. Hayley wants to know who they were, how they met, and just the little intricacies of their lives. Maybe it’s for her own closure or maybe just curiosity, but Hayley’s created so many scenarios of who they were and what paths had brought them to each other in her head. She wants to know everything she can because it’s the closest she’ll ever get to having them in her life. Hayley keeps this desire to herself. She knows that it isn’t outlandish to think that someone would understand why she needs this closure, but Hayley never has been good at extending her trust to anyone other than herself. 2. Hayley’s fairly handy with construction and carpentry. It’s an odd talent she truly has no use for, but she’s always been good at repairs and woodwork. When she’s stressed or angered, there’s a good chance she’ll end up doing some DIY remodeling on her cabin. Her cabin was also the first place she really utilized her abilities. The cabin already existed, but when Hayley came to the Bayou, it was uninhabitable. Weeks of work went into the refurbishing, but Hayley has successfully created a quaint and likeable home for herself. Overall, it could be said that Hayley reverts to this habit of carpentry because she needs control. Her life has been unpredictable and left her with a complex. Carpentry is solely in her hands. Every move is her choice, every mistake is her own, and most importantly, every outcome is of her choosing. 3. Hayley is claustrophobic. Hayley can’t quite place where this fear arose from. Her realization of it came after her first turn as a wolf. In preparing for her second moon, Hayley found an abandoned cellar and tried to lock herself inside to prevent anyone else from getting hurt. However, the dark, cramped space triggered more than just her curse that night. Hayley had a panic attack and did a fair amount of damage to her hands trying to get out of the cellar she’d put herself in. Ever since, she’s been extremely wary of any place that is either cramped or doesn’t have a clear exit. This fear likely arises partly from her wolf side. Freedom and the ability to roam are in her blood, and reasonably, that ability being taken away from her would cause agitation. On the other hand, it could be attributed to Hayley’s commitment to survival. She’s spent so long fending for herself that being trapped or unable to save herself sets off a fair amount of alarm bells in her head.

Please Provide At Least One: I’m submitting this on my mock blog! The blog contains what I would like to call a character study. I’ve created a playlist and an aesthetic for Hayley here. I’ve also included a few reblogs that I feel summarize my take on who she is as a character and expand on her traits and personality. All of the things mentioned above can be viewed on the blog itself or can be found in the about link! - Moodboard/Aesthetic - Playlist - Mock Blog

CHARACTER QUESTIONNAIRE:

How Does Your Character Feel About The Peace Treaty?: Hayley accepts the peace treaty, but her own predispositions make her extremely wary of it. To her, it’s the kind of thing that sounds great in theory but turns to shit when put into practice. Hayley knows that peace is a fickle beast, and as soon as someone feels threatened, it’ll go right out the window. So, while she works to uphold the treaty as a member for the faction, you can bet your ass she has a contingency plan lined up. Hayley doesn’t want to fight, but she’ll be damned if she or her pack suffer because she was too confident in a piece of parchment.

Slice of Life:Hayley spends most of her time in the Bayou. She has a decent sized cabin to call her own, but the girl prefers to be outdoors, even if it is just on the porch. Hayley’s not the type to sleep in, and as a result, she’s normally up early in the day. Hayley goes for a morning run and comes home an hour or so later to shower. After that, she’ll grab breakfast and eat it out on the porch and watch as the rest of the world comes to life. Later, she’ll walk around their community and chat with a few other wolves and see what’s going on for the day. If there’s nothing that needs her attention, Hayley will venture into the Quarter to see what she can see. Whether it’s hanging out at Rousseau’s or down where the witch community congregates, the wolf likes observing. It’s not quite surveillance, but it helps to stay in the know—especially because news doesn’t exactly spread to the Bayou at god-speed. When she’s satisfied with that, she may seek out Derek and ask him to help her train. It also her hope that if she’s with him when dinner time circles around, he’ll cook a portion up for her as well. Seeing as her ability to cook stretches to about boiling water, if she doesn’t have dinner with Derek, she’ll likely pick up something to eat. Her night after her meal typically winds down with a couple of beers and a fire. Hayley doesn’t mind if this time is spent alone or with others, but it gives her a chance to unwind and settle her thoughts before she heads off to sleep.

What is Your Character’s Greatest Fear? How Does This Affect Your Character?: Hayley’s biggest fear is commitment. This isn’t specific to any singular area of her life. The wolf has issues sticking to any one home, friendship, or relationship. This fear stems from her childhood. Being bounced around a system that could care less about her shaped her into a person who learned to anticipate and expect change. Hayley is incapable of trusting that anything good with last forever and will often self-destruct whatever it is before it gets the chance to hurt her. In her mind, settling down is pointless because it will either be taken away from her or scar her even more.

SAMPLE: Removed for Privacy

[eremika0000]

(Ferriswheelshipping) Awakened Emotions Chapter 5

Hello guys, I'm back with another chapter! I'm very thankful for all the feedback and reviews so far, it means a lot! It motives me to write more, I hope you guys give me some more feedback! Without further ado, enjoy!

N had only made it halfway down the dark alley before the man has loudly slammed the door behind him. He heard the door lock click. The man began to laugh sadistically, his laughter very clear even through the closed door. White's shriek rings throughout his ears again.

"White, no!" N gasps, falling to his knees. How was he going to get in there?

N panics, fretfully running his fingers hurriedly through his hair in stress as he tried to decide what to do.

He wouldn't open the door if I knock… I'm not strong enough to take down that sort of door, it looks made of steel. What do I do? N begins hyperventilating, hating not being able to do anything to help White. She was so close, yet so far. White screams again, in more agony this time. "Get your hands off-" Her sentence is cut off with the sound of her moan of pain and he heard a crunch and then a rip.

White, NO!

An idea comes to N on how to save her, and he tosses out his Zoroark from his Pokeball. "Zoroark, use Focus Blast on the door!" N's voice is trembling, he is so worried about White. About a minute has already passed since she has been thrown in the room, and he didn't want her to be hurt.

Zoroark growls, releasing a huge pulse from its mouth, which travels towards the door and it instantly snaps into a million pieces, all falling in crumbles to the floor. N runs in as fast as possible. He gasps in astonishment as the scene unfolds before his eyes. The man had White pinned below him on his king sized bed, and the man had already torn off her shirt, and the remnants of the black vest and white tank top were the tatters on the carpet. She was wearing only her boots, jean shorts, and a pink lacy bra.

At N's sudden entrance, both her and the man abruptly look over to see who has entered. "N!" White chokes out, relived beyond means. The man growls in rage, frustrated to be interrupted. He swiftly rises from the bed, towering over N. Zoroark hisses behind N, ready to attack and protect his master. N had other plans. He briskly shoves the man away, and he grunts in surprise as he hits his back against the wall. White has fled the bed and went to hide behind N, still in her state of only shorts and a bra. As the man begins to get back up, N quickly tosses out his Vanilluxe. "Valliluxe, use frost breath on him!" Vanilluxe complies, a thick white haze speedily hazing towards the man. The man tries to dodge, but the freezing wind has frozen him solid.

"White, we should flee from him for now! He's frozen, but he will be able to move in about 20 minutes!" N returns his Pokemon to their balls, thanking them under his breath for their help.

White is still in shock from all the crazy events, but she manages a little grunt of acknowledgment. With tears still streaming from her eyes, she grabs the biggest shred of her white tank top off the floor and tries to cover her chest, but to no avail. She drops the shred of the shirt as N suddenly takes her hand, rapidly leading her out of the apartment and back into the alley. He continues to lead her down the alley, till the apartment wasn't in sight anymore. When they had reached the end of the alley, N spins around and grabs her shoulders. "White, White, are you okay? Are you hurt anywhere? Do you-"

White suddenly throws her arms around N. He gasps in surprise, never being hugged like this before, except previously at the castle. He blushes when he feels her breasts against his chest, and his mind marveled at how plump and squishy they seemed. Her sniffles bring him back into reality as he realizes she is still crying. Guilt consumes him as she begins to sob, and he wishes he had gotten into the apartment quicker to save her.

"I- I was so scared." Her tears soak into his white shirt, and she continues so cry. N stands there awkwardly enveloped in her desperate hug, not sure how to make her feel better.

I remember when she hugged me after the battle at the castle… She stroked my head… It felt good, and it made me feel better… Maybe I should do that? Would it make her feel better?

He brings his arm up and begins to stroke her head comfortingly, marveling at how soft and fluffy her hair was. White squeezes him tighter, nearly knocking the breath out of him. "Thank you for saving me, N." She backs away a little bit, feeling shy now that she had emotionally broken down in front of him, and she was wearing nothing but shorts and a bra.

She sniffles and tries as best as she can to cover her chest with her arms, but it wasn't working. N had forgotten her state of undress, and his eyes slowly trail down to her chest. He blushes deeply, and politely avoids his eyes, knowing that he shouldn't stare at her in her undergarments. "White, are you okay?"

"I'm fine..." She says in a hoarse voice, sniffling again. "But I need a shirt..." She is blushing too, not believing what has just unfolded. She was grateful N had rescued her, but she never imagined herself being in a shirtless situation with him.

N clears his throat, promptly turning away from her and begins to unbutton his white button up that he wears over his black turtleneck sweater. White shuffles her feet while waiting for him to unbutton it, feeling awkward but still very jittery. N manages to swing his arm around to hand the shirt to White without turning his body, just so he wouldn't have to see her in her state of undress and make her nervous. Though in the back of his mind, he secretly wanted to a bit. "Thank you." White whispers as she slips it on, blushing again as the scent of N envelopes her. His scent was like evergreen trees. The shirt was still very warm from him, and she begins to button it. The shirt was way too large, since N was around a foot taller than White. The white shirt's sleeves covered over her hands, and the shirt was a bit like a short dress. Unless you really stared, it looked like White wasn't wearing pants at all since the shirt covered slightly over her short shorts.

"I'm done dressing." White murmurs. N turns around, still feeling nervous at the situation. His lips curl up in a little smile as he sees White in his shirt. A little chuckle escapes, and White puts her hands on her hips. "What's so funny, N?" She moves closer to N, having to crane her neck to look up at him. He doesn't say anything, continuing to chuckle to himself. "Yeah, I know it's too big, you're just so damn tall!" She fumes at how short she was, and probably was always going to be.

She looks so cute…

It really was too big on her, but he thought she looked quite endearing in it. Something about her wearing his shirt excited him for some reason, and he didn't quite understand why.

More pressing matters make their way into N's mind. "White, we should probably get out of here before that man wakes up… We should at least make our way to the other end of town."

White nods, and her mind begins to travel across various subjects as well.

I can't believe this all happened… But why was N there? How did he know I was in trouble? Was he… Following me?

Once they had walked much farther away from the apartment and were beginning to reach the nicer part of town, White speaks up. "N… I'm grateful and all that you saved me, but how did you know where I was?"

N's face reddens, he knew this part would be coming eventually. "Um..."

He really didn't know what to say. N didn't want to creep her out, he knew she didn't like people following her. Moments pass, and White was growing impatient. "N?"

"I found out after leaving the castle that Team Plasma is rebuilding… They said they wanted revenge on you, so I went to your home town to look for you and warn you and make sure you were safe. Your friend told me you went on vacation to Sandgem Town in Sinnoh, but I was still worried. Team Plasma is capable of many things, and I wanted to make sure you were safe… But I didn't want to ruin your vacation, since you probably didn't want to see me or hear about Team Plasma, since they probably couldn't reach you in Sinnoh anyways..." N is rambling now, his face growing hotter as he continues to disclose all his secrets. "I… I thought I'd watch over you while on vacation, just to make sure Team Plasma wasn't going to harm you. I thought I could keep you safe from afar without bothering you with my presence or news of Team Plasma… I didn't want to ruin your vacation, and I planned on telling you everything once you returned… I'm sorry..." N covers his face with his hands, mortified. He knew exactly how White felt about people following her, she had made it clear in Chargestone cave. She thought it was creepy.

She is probably disgusted by me…

White blushes, letting out a little laugh. "I'm happy you looked out for me, but you could have just told me! I'm not too worried about Team Plasma anyways, they have weak grunts, and they're probably weak right now." She looks over to N, seeing he is still looking a bit down. She awkwardly ruffles his hair, hoping to cheer him up. "I mean, you could have told me and then joined me on my vacation if you wanted! It's been lonely and I would have enjoyed your company!" N looks up from his hands, his cheeks flushed.

She would have liked to have me around?

She continues to ruffle his hair, and N closes his eyes, marveling at how good it felt, lowering his head a bit more so she would do it more. White smiles to herself, thinking he reacted just like the Pokemon Purrloin when it was petted. "So, N, would you like to travel with me?" White says out of the blue.

He looks up in surprise. Travel with her? She wants me to go with her?

A big happy smile grows upon his face. "Yes, I would like to travel with you, if you don't mind."

She grins again, ruffling his hair one more time. His hair really was so soft and fluffy, she loved touching it. She suddenly drops to her knees, beginning to dig through her bag for something. N was a bit disappointed she was going to keep touching his hair, he thought it had felt really good.

"Ah, here it is!" White exclaims, pulling out the Zorua doll she had bought earlier in the day. "I got this for you, N! Well, you probably saw it earlier anyways if you were following… But here you go! It made me think of you, since you have a Zoroark!" She hands over the cute doll to N. He opens his hands hesitantly, never receiving a present before. He takes hold of it, liking how soft the fur on the Zorua doll was. He hugs it tightly, his eyes beaming in happiness. "Thank you, White!"

White grins. He really is adorable. "You're welcome."

After a few minutes of staring and marveling at his present, he carefully tucks it away into his bag for now. When he looked up, he realized the sun was setting. Surprisingly, it was growing pretty cold out despite it being only early evening.

White had noticed the cold too, the cold breezes brushing against her exposed legs. She shivers, holding her arms against her chest. "N, we should get to a hotel for the night, it's already getting freezing outside!" N nods in wonder, since he has never been to a hotel before. She leads him down the streets of the city, keeping her eyes peeled for any hotel signs. She only sees one. It was a rather small building with a big red hotel sign. She hopes they have a room with more than one bed for them. "Over there." She murmurs, and N follows. They head inside the hotel building. The inside of the building was stark white, with marble floors and white wallpaper. They head to the counter, and an overly eager worker greets them. "Hello you two, are you guys looking for a hotel room?"

White nods.

"Lucky for you, we still have one room left! You got lucky, it's the last room! It's a couple themed room, so it's perfect for you two lovebirds!" The worker seems to swoon over them, and White feels awkward.

They only have a love hotel room left? Great… This can't get any weirder between N and I. He saves me and I'm in just my bra and shorts, and I have to wear his shirt! Now we have to stay in a love hotel together!

"Um, that's fine." White hands over some cash, and N is staring at the exchange with a confused expression.

Couple themed room?

The worker hands over their keys and room number, and White leads them up the stairs to where their room was supposed to be.

She takes a deep breath, and opens the door.

Inside, it was worse than she imagined. The room was themed with bright pink wallpaper, pink fluffy carpet, and all the furniture she could see was a hot pink color as well. At the end of the hotel room she was able to see the bed. The bed was tiny, and barely enough for two people. She scanned the room, looking for another bed, but she couldn't find any.

Oh my god.

White's face is tomato red, coming to the realization that she and N would probably have to sleep in the same bed.

She notices a little package on the wooden end table by the entrance of the apartment. She hesitantly takes it, curious as to what it was. It was a small item, about the size of her hand and was packaged in plastic. A little sticker on the front of the package reads, 'Free gift for couples of the love room!' White rips open the bag as N peers curiously over her shoulder to see what the present was.

A little pink vibrator rests in her palm.

Oh. My. God.

"White, what's that?" N reaches to grab the vibrator in wonder, but White quickly stashes it away in her bag before he can touch it and start with more awkward inquiries.

"Don't worry about it..." White takes another step into the love themed hotel room, knowing the night was only going to get crazier than before.

Hehe… Cliffhanger… Please review! It means a lot to me and motivates me to write more. Anyways I hope you enjoyed and please stay tuned for the next chapter! Have a nice day~~~

[thoughtfulsharingforyou]

Infertility + IVF

http://bit.ly/2oScE6k

Writing these sentences almost still feels like a dream. Well, I should rephrase, it actually feels like a nightmare. If you or someone close to you has battled with infertility, I wish I could reach out and hug them through the screen. It’s something I would not wish on my worst enemy. The process is like a big rollercoaster filled with ups and downs, and when you are down, not only are you down but IVF punches you in the face. It’s a war on your body and your mind. I am trying to be calm when I write this because my mom reads my blog and she would be upset if I dropped the F-Bomb in every sentence. But let me tell you… I am holding it in.  

I debated a lot about whether I wanted to share my experience with you all. It’s been such a personal and individual journey filled with endless heart break. It was when I first read Caitlin’s posts on the subject and started opening up to the people around me that I found that infertility is much more common than you might think. A big part of my process has been being open with those around me because there is no way I would have been able to endure this process staying silent. The more I talked to people and the more I talked about IVF, the more people I was able to connect with and learn from. I usually don’t get this personal, but the more I thought about it, if I am able to help 1 person with the things I learned from this experience, it will all be worth it. I want those women(and men) going through these struggles to know that you are not alone. It has been harder than I can ever put into words. I am going to try to dig in as deep as I can so if you don’t want to hear about my uterus, it’s probably a good time to stop reading. For those that have any more specific questions, please feel free to reach out. By email, by DM, however you feel comfortable. I am happy to help in any way I can. Please know I do not consider myself a great writer but I hope to share my thoughts and feelings with you as eloquently as I can. While I am sharing my experience, please also be aware that everyone’s experience with infertility is completely different. I am not stating any of these things as fact, only letting you know what happened to me, how I experienced it, and what I learned.

How we got to fertility treatments Rewind to May 28th 2015 when Blake and I got married. It was the biggest and most important thing we had been through together to date and handsdown the best day of my life. After the wedding, we both knew we were ready to grow our family. We visited my gynecologist and got the run down. Get off birth control, genetic blood testing, prenatal vitamins, and time to get pregnant. Sounded simple right? After stopping birth control and letting my body normalize from the years and years on the pill, month by month would go by without good news. I know everyone tells you, “be patient, it will happen” but as the time started to pass, I started to worry. We then made a trip to our Gyno and started to talk about next steps. Before trying any fertility medications, we tried a natural IUI (Intrauterine insemination) where they basically place sperm inside my uterus to facilitate fertilization. Apologies for any and all science speak from here on out… I figure if you are still reading this you want to hear the in and outs so I will try to leave little out. It came and went… negative. At that point, our doctor decided it was time for us to go see a fertility specialist.

Moving onto a fertility doctor I found my doctor through the recommendation of friends in the area. When it comes to the importance of finding the right doctor for you, you have to like this place, and like it alot. You will potentially be spending a lot of time here so it’s important you like the people working there, and especially feel confident and trust your doctor. I had no idea I would have this kind of intimate relationship with a doctor’s office because I never thought I would have to consider IVF (In Vitro Fertilization). We had a consult with our doctor and came up with a plan to move forward with. We would try some hormone therapy medications (i.e. clomid, or femara) and try an IUI again to increase our chances of getting pregnant. Now, what I didn’t do when we met with our doctor was talk about our insurance and what our options were. This was my BIGGEST mistake. If you have recently started down this road or have just started fertility treatments and you have not fully digested whether or not you have insurance coverage and discussed with your doctor, STOP EVERYTHING YOU ARE DOING RIGHT NOW. While Blake and I had done INSANE research on our insurance coverage, we did not discuss with the doctor or staff fully. I think we kind of got lost in the shuffle in a busy week. While you want to point the finger, it’s really on you to know your coverage and make the most of it. We didn’t realize that our gynecologist wasted one of our coverage treatments on her office services. We wasted away coverage on a small procedure when we could have saved the coverage for IVF treatment. While I never thought I would have needed to save any of my benefits for IVF, I wish that the office would have counseled me better on our best strategy based on what we had to work with. Some people are not even lucky enough to have any coverage but if you have some, no matter how small it is, it’s so important to make sure you are utilizing it smartly. Some offices have shared risk plans where you can pay for a certain amount for treatment and if you are unsuccessful you sometimes get refunded a certain portion of costs. When you are spending thousands of dollars on treatment and medications, it’s important to get all of this information, as overwhelming as if might be, upfront. Trust me, get that info so you can have it in your back pocket.

The dreaded HSG test First things first, when you see a fertility specialist, they require an HSG test. This is the first of many uncomfortable things to come. Basically, they inject dye into your uterus while you are sitting on an x-ray table, legs in stirrups mind you, and they shoot the dye in to see whether it flows through your uterus and fallopian tubes. They take x-rays of this process to confirm or deny any structural problems you may have that could be an obstacle in getting pregnant. This was the first time that I went to trusty old GOOGLE and asked, “What is an HSG test?” what I read… was terrifying. This was my first lesson. The internet is a scary place and to take it with a grain of salt. I read horror upon horror story of the pain of this procedure. The whole reason it’s painful is that when the dye is injected it causes your uterus to cramp. I am not someone that takes a lot of medication, but I popped a valium or I would have likely had a panic attack in the waiting room. It helped me to relax and while the experience was not comfortable, it was not nearly as bad as I had read. We got the results of our test and found that everything was 100 clear so there were no issues. So we were sent back to our doctor for treatment.

4 Failed IUI’s The whole process is beyond overwhelming. I am lucky that Blake was able to come to so many doctors appointments with me because you have super limited time in each appointment to ask the important questions you have because everything just moves so quickly. I feel like when you are dealing with any health issue, you really have to be an advocate for yourself because it’s easy to lose track of your questions and get sidetracked when you are in a busy office. I started to keep a document where I would jot down questions for my doctor and track my progress. I am someone who is soothed by information. I want to know everything about what is happening in my body as scientifically as possible. I have had other friends that would rather be blissfully unaware. Everyone has their own way of coping so find what keeps you focused and centered and do it. I tried clomid for 1 cycle and that medication thinned my uterine lining so we switched to Femara. Femara is used off label in a similar way as Clomid to stimulate ovulation. You start by taking pills to stimulate egg growth and around the time of ovulation, you take a trigger injection to “trigger” ovulation. Then the next day you go in for your IUI procedure which is usually compared to the discomfort of a pap smear. I tended to get insanely bad cramps during this procedure so my doctor recommended 1 low dose valium to relax the muscles in my uterus and this was a life saver. After my second IUI at the fertility doctor, she wanted to take a closer look inside my uterus to make sure she didn’t see anything that would be hurting my odds of getting pregnant. I had a hysteroscopy, which is where they put a tiny camera inside your uterus to take a look around. Everything was clear which was great but I still did not have any answers on why I could not get pregnant. For our last 2 IUI cycles, I did injectable medications instead of oral meds. These “stim meds” are used to stimulate egg growth and egg quantity. So you do this carefully to get more than 1 egg growing to increase your chances. This was my first introduction to injections. I will talk more on that later (I HATE NEEDLES). After 4 failed attempts, thousands of dollars, you don’t even realize how much time just flies by. Our insurance coverage was flying out the window along with prescription medication coverage was filling up fast. Not to mention, our spirits were down. Way down. While friends were getting pregnant left and right at an almost comical rate, I was still not pregnant. We knew we would have to think about next steps.

IVF, I can’t believe we got here Before I started on this journey, you would hear the term “IVF” thrown around so easily and casually. While it’s true that many women go through the process, it’s not casual… NOT AT ALL. I think the fact that it’s so commonplace now takes away from the fact that it is an incredibly difficult, taxing, emotional, physical process that can have the most amazing rewards or the most deeply painful results. It took me a minute to wrap my head around the fact that I was indeed in this position. When you want something bad enough, it’s incredible the kind of strength you can find to pull you through. While I was down I was not out. I was ready. I was insanely nervous, read 3 books and was back to my dear friend google on all the forums reading everyone’s experiences from the good and bad to the ugly. I had also started acupuncture to prepare for my IVF cycle. Which was a whole other can of worms that I am happy to elaborate on at another time. I was as prepared as I could be. After all this waiting, I was finally ready to move forward.

It started again with a big talk with the doctor and making a treatment plan. Blake and I were SO excited after so much failure to finally be taking a more aggressive approach to getting pregnant. While I was excited.. I was completely terrified at the same time. As a 33 year old woman, I was in a good position for treatment. Blake is 31 and had everything tested and was perfectly healthy. We were lucky. The odds were with us. Some people are not that lucky including a lot of my personal friends and family. But, we were ready to start… the most expensive experiment of our lives. In the quickest way of explaining the process, you “stim” or stimulate follicle growth with injections and turn your ovaries into what I have come to call “an egg factory.” The goal being to create as many mature follicles for Egg Retrieval surgery as possible. You will then take a trigger injection to trigger ovulation and then the follicles will be harvested through surgery and fertilized with sperm. Then you sit and wait to see if they develop into embryos. Not so simple, but for those unfamiliar with the process, there you have it. From there on out, it’s an INSANE whirlwind. The doctor orders your medicine and there on your doorstep you get the scariest package of your life. A box filled with needles and medications. The box (well boxes) that came were filled with vials of meds, the scariest long needles you have ever seen, bottles of pills and other things. Overwhelming is an understatement. We piled our medications into a huge cooler and brought it to the doctors office. Nothing to see here, just a box of terror… no big deal. The nurses at the doctor’s office showed us how to mix and administer all the medications. Blake and I decided it was best for him to take full control of the medications so I could just swoop in, get my meds, and run back to the couch so I didn’t need to prolong the experience. The best piece of advice someone gave me was to put on my favorite show and have a sweet treat waiting to get me through shots. Make the experience as positive as possible. My shows of choice: The Office + Friends. Some people ice their injection sites so it causes less pain but I didn’t find that to help me and adding another step was not for me. You use these stim meds for anywhere up to 10-14 days depending on when you typically ovulate. (For most women this is day 14) As each day goes by, I became more fatigued, and more uncomfortable. I remember it being explained that it was the equivalent of having a bunch of grapes hanging in each ovary. Doesn’t sound very fun does it? What I didn’t mention previously is the side effects from all the medications even going as far back to the clomid. Again, please remember these are my personal experiences and everyone reacts different to the medications. I just want to be as transparent about my experience as possible. Even when it’s less than inspiring. The medicines made me INSANELY bloated. This was a constant. No matter what I was taking whether it be stim meds or hormones, I would be incredibly bloated. Weight gain came from also doing treatments for a year. Again, just what someone needs while going through this experience. More on that later. It’s all kind of part of it. I think the emotional part of the process is one of the biggest side effects of it all. I can’t begin to explain the kind of emotional place I was in. Crying at literally everything. So many hormones coursing through my body. It was a lot to endure without even taking into account the physical stuff. Poor Blake… and anyone that had to be around me at that time. It’s honestly all a mind game. I remember 2 days in right before my injections I was crying because I literally could not believe we had to do two injections in a row. I was just unraveling. Thankfully Blake is so calm and was able to put my mind back into perspective. Each injection was for a greater purpose. Getting us to our goal. While I am very much a realist, I fought hard to get and stay in a positive mindset. Toward the end it all became part of our routine. A day or two before surgery, I had to take naps during the day because I literally could not stay awake. I was wearing gym pants everyday because none of my pants would fit my insanely bloated stomach. I could barely reach down to tie my shoes. I was exhausted, but I was ready to get these eggs out!

Egg Retrieval Day I have only had 2 surgeries in my life so I was VERY nervous about the surgery. I know everyone thinks it’s so routine but I felt like I was going to have an anxiety attack the night before. I just NEEDED everything to go well. It had to. The biggest thing the day before was prepping what I would need during my recovery. Now, it all might be a little TMI but, we have gone past playing coi here. Stool softener was a must to prepare for those not so fun post surgery side effects, lots of electrolyte drinks (gatorade + pedialyte), BRAT diet foods, and one of the most important things, my heating pad. I ordered this one because it reminded me of being in acupuncture. I was as ready as I could ever be.

Surgery day went smoothly and easily. Before I knew it I was in the recovery room still woozy from anesthesia demanding how many eggs were retrieved. I probably asked the nurse like 5 times. We got 12 eggs. I had 20 brewing in my ovaries so the doctor said she felt this to be a little low but still good. So we did it. I was sent home to recover.

Post Egg Retrieval Recovery When you go through the IVF process, you read packets of information about the process etc in great detail. When I say packet it might as well be a small book. TONS of info that you need to read, digest and sign off on that you have understood everything. Again, more overwhelming experiences. On some of the last pages you find the complications due to surgery. I should have paid more attention to those. After surgery I was confronted with a lot of discomfort. Basically the follicles are removed from their shells and the shells remain in your ovaries and fill with fluid post surgery. This means, insane bloating and discomfort. I still have photos on my phone where I literally look 5 months pregnant because I was so bloated from fluid. I will save you the visual. I was basically laying flat for most of my recovery with alternating heating pads. The heating pads really soothed the ache and I highly recommend having multiple on hand. A few nights into recovery, I woke up in the middle of the night at 3am. I started to feel more discomfort and immediately felt sick and started to sweat bullets. I ran to the bathroom and before I could even get there I had sharp excruciating pain. The worst I have ever felt in my life. Blake had been sleeping and he finally woke up when I was laying on my back on the bathroom floor screaming from the pain rolling back and forth. I had no idea what was happening or what was wrong. Blake asked if we should go to the ER but I literally was in so much pain I could not move. What seemed like an eternity passed and somehow it lessened and I was able to make it back in the bed. I was now terrified to go back to sleep. The next day, we made an emergency appointment at our Doctors office. My doctor explained that we likely had a Ovarian Torsion. What happens is when your ovaries twist, it cuts the blood supply and creates the immense pain. What is really scary about Ovarian Torsion is that it is a very serious complication and if the ovaries do not untwist on their own, you need emergency surgery to untwist them and in most cases, you have a high chance of damage to your ovaries. The percentage of this happening is small, but, of course… it happened to me. I still have nightmares about it and after it happened I swore I would never do IVF again. Time passed and after a week at home resting, I finally left the house. Some women bounce back after just 1 or 2 days of recovery but this was not the case for me. I don’t know who those women are, but teach me your ways.

Embryo Results In the meantime when we were dealing with the after surgery complications, our embryos were developing and by day 6 the embryologists know which have developed to the farthest stage successfully and which ones have not made it. I remember I was home alone on the couch while Blake ran to the store to grab more food for dinner. Our doctor called and said she had some bad news: We only had 1 embryo that made it. Was this really happening? One embryo. I was hysterical. I desperately called Blake who didn’t have reception in the supermarket. I then called my sister who could not even understand me through the hysterics on the phone. I remember her voice that day… it was so filled with sadness. I can’t explain the feeling of having your future just flash before your eyes like that. It was clear from this, and from what the doctor told me, that the reason we were having problems getting pregnant was because of my egg quality. So insult to injury, my eggs are bad, and now we only had 1 chance from this whole process to get pregnant. We were devastated.

Blake and I had already decided we wanted to do genetic testing to ensure a safe and healthy baby so cells from our 1 embryo were sent off to get tested. We waited and we hoped that our one chance would be a good one. Weeks later, we got the call from our doctors office and our embryo was healthy. The best piece of news we had received in a long time. We were ready to start the process of our Embryo Transfer.

Prepping for Embryo Transfer The actual prep for the transfer is a lot less intense than the retrieval but it’s equally challenging with all the hormones. I spent a few weeks loading up on estrogen and taking other injections to find out right before my transfer that my lining was too thin. GREAT. If you don’t get your lining to a certain thickness, your embryo won’t be able to implant. Having a thick uterus lining is key and it was terrible news to hear everything we had done did not prepare my uterus to where it needed to be for implantation. Yet another obstacle in our journey. I remember the day our doctor told us we would have to start all over with our transfer medications. Right after I had scheduled an acupuncture appointment. This was not smart timing on my part but I tried to suck it up and head to my appointment. I got on the table and tried my best to relax. I had needles all over my face, arms, legs and my acupuncturist went to put my final needles in my feet and I felt a sting. Now, keep in mind, when your muscles are tense, sometimes the needles might sting a bit but they can adjust them no problem. It was not the day for a painful needle. I started balling uncontrollably and I couldn’t move because my whole face and body was covered in needles. My doctor started to clean my tears with cotton balls. It was a disaster. I was so overwhelmed and totally defeated having to start the whole embryo transfer process again. But, here we were. Round two. IVF can be one struggle after another and you just have to keep on pushing forward as best and as hard as you can. I was so close to the finish line. I had to pull it together and get back down to business.

For the second transfer attempt, we decided to use the same medications I used to stimulate my eggs to help my body increase it’s hormone levels more naturally. So we did what they call a “light stim cycle” while being careful not to encourage too many follicles to grow but enough where it would grow my uterine lining and raise the natural levels of hormones in my body. All of the estrogen I was still taking was giving me massive migraines but after some time they would pass. All the same side effects came with these meds including the bloating and emotional messiness. I was finally getting closer to my transfer and got cleared to start my progesterone injections. This is major! It means you are locked into a date and time and there is no turning back. Another injection hurdle: the progesterone injection. This was one of the scariest things to come in the mail. Since they are an intramuscular injection, they are long. 1.5 inches to be exact…. I know. Can you feel the trembling……….. I texted and called all my IVF friends to get their suggestions on how to get through it. The injections go into your butt so Blake did these as well. The first time, I was psyching myself out bouncing back and forth in the living room. Blake goes, “JUST DO IT!” I had to face my fear… it was going to happen. I stood up for these injections and squeezed a pillow and in the end, it wasn’t that bad. I mean, it’s not great, but I think I had built everything up so badly in my head. After the injection I immediately massaged it and sat on a heating pad. This helped ALOT. Apparently when you are doing these for a while, the progesterone can form little lumps from not distributing so it can make things more painful. It’s no picnic and I had a sore ass. But what are you gonna do. It was game time. We were getting closer to our transfer day.

Night Before Embryo Transfer I feel like the whole process made me nervous but this night I was the most excited. Everything was becoming very real. I could potentially be pregnant tomorrow. Well, not specifically but soon. Since my doctor wanted me on couch potato status for 3 days post-transfer, I wanted to get everything prepared the night before. I went shopping for my favorite snacks, picked up some books and magazines, cleaned the house, and laid out my favorite pajamas to be ready to come home and relax.

Embryo Transfer Day! This day was so surreal. I had scheduled my acupuncturist to come give me treatment before and after the transfer so I would be at my most relaxed state. We had a nice private room where the procedure was taking place and I got my treatment and Blake played some soothing music on his phone. (We actually played SirusXM Spa Radio. It makes me feel like I am getting a massage at a Spa. You have to check it out!) After my treatment was done, my doctor came in to give us the run down on what was going to happen. Before I knew it, our embryologist rolled in this crazy machine that was housing our embryo. It was WILD. His microscope projected onto the tv and we were able to see the embryo on the screen. Science is such a beautiful thing and it’s still a miracle to me that people are able to be helped in this way to have children. The embryo goes into a catheter and is then implanted via guided ultrasound into the uterus. We watched it all on the tv. I was so euphoric from my acupuncture, and so at peace, I felt so incredible good about the whole day. And just like that, we were done. I layed down for another 20 minutes and I was sent home to rest.

The Two Week Wait The first part of IVF is hard but when you get to this point, the Two Week Wait or “TWW” was the longest two weeks of my life. Like the whole process, it’s all about waiting and waiting some more. So it only makes sense the last part of the step is WAITING AGAIN. I know. Those who have been there, you know. The first couple days we spent having Blake wait on me hand and foot. I did start to get antsy on day 2. But I binge watched my favorite shows, read my books and stayed off my computer as much as possible. I was drinking and eating as many warm things as possible. It’s said to help with implantation and to keep your uterus warm and happy. Once I was off bedrest, we decided to take a couple day trip down to San Diego. Blake had to work and it was a nice time for me to just get away and take a break. During the TWW, you are also still taking progesterone shots so that was part of our process along with the other hormones I was on. I was desperately trying to distract myself so stop looking back at my calendar to see how many days were left until my blood work. Our friends, our family, and everyone around us were so excited to hear the happy news. Our fingers were crossed. It’s funny writing this now because I am forgetting some of the small details and medication we did during this step. I think it’s fair to say that sometimes, you kind of just block out some of your experiences because of how hard you struggled through them. While some of my memories are vivid, I feel like some moments I completely blocked out. I am digressing, but this wait was just as torturous as I had read in every fertility book and on every forum. But, if I had a bit of advice, keep as busy as possible. I know my busiest days and moments helped me to stop from obsessing over everything.

Blood Day The day of your pregnancy blood work, I headed in early in the morning for my blood draw. I remember telling the nurse how nervous I was. I was… freaking out. We give them our cell phone number and they would call us as soon as possible most likely in the early afternoon. I spent the whole day glued to my phone afraid to even hop in the shower in fear I would miss it. Now I know I said this earlier, but I am a realist and always try to be open to the realistic possibility that things could go good or bad. We are really talking like 50/50 chances here of whether we got pregnant. While you think about those outcomes, all our friends and family were throwing as much love and positive energy at us as they could. It almost started to annoy me because I knew that it was not a 100% done deal. I guess that is the realistic side of me talking but, I had to face the fact that there were two outcomes possible and I needed to at least be aware of that going into this.

My phone ended up ringing and I feel like it was happening in slow motion. I picked up and while I put the phone on speaker Blake came running into the room from the office. “Hi Kimberly, I have some very sad news…” I fell into my hands and I became hysterical handing the phone off to Blake who had to finish the phone call with our doctor. I was crying so hard I couldn’t see or speak. Lola came over and started to lick the tears off of my face while Blake finished talking to the doctor. Our IVF had failed and it was over. That has to have been the darkest moment of my life. The words seemed to linger and it was like someone closing the doors on our hope to have a family. Devastated doesn’t begin to cover what we were both feeling. I was inconsolable. If you had looked into my eyes, I likely had a blank stare on my face for the next few hours. We sat together on the couch and through the end of my hysterics, I said, “We have to try again.” The hours and days following were hard. Everyone that knew we had our transfer was waiting for the news. Everyone knew we would have answers, and were waiting for news from us. Not only having to process what had happened between the two of us but we would have to be vocal and let our families and friends know what we had just found out. Living that devastation over and over again. I decided that I could not be faced with anyone directly asking me about it or I would have broken down. So I started to send texts out to everyone in the loop to let them know what happened, that I didn’t want to talk about it, but that I would reach out if I needed anything. Everyone was so respectful and gave us the space and time we needed to heal. I wouldn’t say you ever fully heal from those experiences but, we grow and we become stronger. Writing and rereading these results have tears welled up in my eyes. But I have learned that through this process, I have found this hidden strength and resilience. IVF can also be terribly hard on relationships and I am so happy to have Blake in my life who has been the most supportive person through my wild and crazy moments, and through some of these really messed up times of struggle. We are stronger together.

Moving on to our 2nd IVF Cycle After our failed IVF, Blake and I decided that my body and our minds, and our calendars needed a break from the rigorous doctors appointments, injection schedules, acupuncture appointments, and constant stress on my body. We took some time off to just be together and to live. It’s been about 2 months since our bad news and I have to say I feel like my soul has had a refresh. Since Blake and I decided to do another IVF cycle, we wanted to fully let go and give my body a break before we started again.

I have spent a lot of time thinking about what i could have done better to get better results. I was thinking back about my realistic approach to the process and always balancing the fact that this was never a 100% solution to my fertility problem. While everyone deals with these struggles in their own way, I realized that maybe I didn’t let go 100%. Maybe I wasn’t as positive as I could have been. Could it be my fault that I had such bad results? Is this on me for not doing my best?? I consider myself a very positive person. If you ask my friends, they will back that up. But this process was much harder on me than I ever could have imagined.

Having the opportunity to go through IVF again, I feel a shift inside. Because this WILL HAPPEN for us. I know deep down that Blake and I will be be able to grow our family one way or another. And something has shifted inside me. We can never give up. We are strong. Much stronger than we can ever imagine. The strength you pull from to get you through these hard times is truly a miracle. After my time off to clear my head, I am feeling so focused, and feeling so much love. I am going to hit the ground running with a positive spirit and I know that we are going to make it through again. I actually started to read this book and found it’s words to be so helpful preparing for my next cycle. The powerful message of turning fear into faith(whatever that means to you) is something I am working on. Love over Fear. It has been a good read so far and I am only 3 chapters in!

I am an open book and while it’s very hard for me to put myself out there like this, I hope that my experience can help others open up about their struggles with infertility. Know that you are not alone. We are all here going through this together. I have found it so helpful to speak up and not feel so alone in it all. I have several friends going through IVF right now and I feel like we all hold each other up when we most need it. Whatever you are dealing with, no matter how big or small, NEVER GIVE UP.

While we gear up for another IVF cycle soon, I hope to share bits and pieces with you. Maybe that is just on instagram stories, maybe it’s some more blog content. I don’t really know what it will be. I am just going to go with the flow, and live the best life I know how to. I sincerely thank you for taking the time to read this post. It has taken me weeks. I am nervous to press publish, but I feel like writing about it has been a cathartic experience to me. I know it’s all over the place, and I know at some points it probably doesn’t make any sense. But it’s me and now it’s here. To all of you out there fighting the fight, I am with you.

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