#chicken man adorers UNITE

[chickenmanbeloved]

Attack I made to @cucuumiia on Artfight :]]

I had an absolutely fun time drawing their farmer, Claire. Please go check out their revenge they posted. It's wonderful and I love it so much 😭💞

[mariacallous]

Several years ago, I invited my new boyfriend to Yom Kippur at my aunt’s house. He didn’t need convincing – I think he adored my family early on – but to entice him further I made sure he knew what was on offer.

Bagels. Cream cheese. Lox.

Let’s just say he showed up on time. I knew my aunt would be thrilled when he devoured the pickled herring. (He earned similar accolades when he asked for seconds of gefilte fish at Passover.)

Jewish food, he says, is just a hop, skip and a jump from the Scandinavian food he grew up with. “It’s like the foods of my people. Foods of your people, foods of our people.”

Apart from being poetic, it was a very Jewish thing for him to say.

Now my husband, Brad is definitively non-Jewish by all religious standards. His father was raised in a big Irish Catholic family and his mother, raised in the Midwest, is of Scandinavian descent. He was the first non-Jewish person I’d met with his own proclivity for pickled fish and smoked salmon.

Among the items he always kept in his pantry — before he met me and still today — are tinned fish and Triscuits, often eaten as a meal. He and I have been on a year-long journey of finding the best “real rye bread” within driving distance in the greater Metrowest area of Boston. (Haven’t found it yet.)

To say that he embraces all things Jewish is obvious. That he loves me is only part of the reason; another is the food. 

My grandmother always had enough food to feed an army, no matter whether it was Shabbat, Passover or Tuesday. I watched as Brad became accustomed to the foods we loved and the leftovers we take pride in sharing: the containers left on the table after Yom Kippur for extra brisket, the paper bags for challah and rugelach.

But he’s taught us about food, too. Our family text chain is called “Smashburgers Unite” because of my family’s newfound favorite meal, brought to us by my husband. A better cook than I (a generous understatement), he loves cooking projects. 

At that point, my biggest cooking project I’d taken on was making latkes for Hanukkah.

It had been my job for years. I’d shove the potatoes in the Cuisinart, wring them out as best I could, and do my best guesswork with how much egg, matzah meal, onion and salt should go in. Then I’d stand at the stove and fry them, the kitchen filling with that wonderful greasy-spoon smell, as the rest of my family arrived. I laid them out as they were done, always in an inadvertent ombre from light to dark as the oil, and my patience, decreased. 

So for Brad’s first Hanukkah with us, I told him — who once made a BBQ for 40 people with no help from anyone — that I (and, by proxy, he) was in charge of latkes.

“Cool,” he said. His indifference both alarmed and relieved me. 

“It’s more work than you think,” I said.

I should have known he’d have better tricks  for peeling massive amounts of Russet potatoes and draining their water (cheesecloth! The man I’m dating owns cheesecloth?!), adding cornstarch to help the eggs adhere better to the mix, and adding enough salt so they actually tasted good. He added seasonings like zaatar, onion powder and garlic powder. He showed me how to wait until all the oil – way more than I was used to adding for frying – was shimmering, and to be patient while each side cooked.

I think he wanted to add a shallot.

“It’s not traditional,” I said.

“So?” he said.

He had a point.

The latkes that year were a hit. My family made sure he knew that it was now his task for life. They were joking, but they were also serious.

I knew he was about to take this latke-making to the next level. On the way home, he thought up different flavor combinations, like adding dill and black pepper, and what if we fried them in schmaltz – we’d have to roast a chicken first; store-bought schmaltz wouldn’t cut it – and what if we added cayenne, and what if we used different root vegetables, like turnips and rutabagas, and what if made a sweet potato version?

I was exhausted just thinking about it. The latkes take a great deal of effort, and I don’t have the same love of cooking that Brad does. Where he sees opportunity, I see how long it will take to clean up. 

Maybe we buy shredded potatoes, to make it easier? I suggested. 

But no: Everything from scratch, no shortcuts. Our first year in our new home together, we made them in our kitchen. He shredded the potatoes, I wrung them out. He set up three bowls with different seasonings and spices. I spooned them into balls, and we’d take turns at the stove, frying, flipping, frying again. We ate several between us right away – impossible not to. Yes, it was an hours-long process. But the pride I felt at bringing them home, measured by the silence while people ate and ate, was unmatched.  

I learned that the effort, the planning, the execution: it’s  a way of showing love. The energy we put into the latkes as a team made me feel closer, somehow, to the holiday and to my Jewish roots.

That first meal of jointly-made latkes also included my mom’s brisket. Over dinner, the conversation turned to other traditional Jewish foods like corned beef and pastrami. Brad pointed out that they were both brisket, just made different – something we hadn’t really ever thought about. 

He mentioned he could make a pastrami. 

Our eyes widened. 

“It’s just a matter of brining it…then smoking it…” 

So we’re in charge of both now: latkes and pastrami. 

[wen-kexing-apologist]

Last Twilight, Ep. 1 Thoughts

Full disclosure, I am very neutral about JimmySea as a pairing, and literally the only reason I am watching Last Twilight is to see how Aof Handles Disability: Round 2. While I certainly had quibbles with some stuff in Moonlight Chicken, I was generally impressed by the way Aof navigated that storyline both on and off-screen. And seeing characters with disabilities in BL has been extremely rare. 

So, I just want to share my thoughts on the first episode of Last Twilight because there was not enough going on in it for me to personally write an actual analysis. I also want to make it clear that I am not blind, and do not know how accurate an experience any of what is going on may be to blind people. 

BUT! I will say that I was desperately in love with the way they opened the entire show. And I don’t mean like the intro, I mean the “this is a fictional series///raikon dopini” announcement at the beginning because they blurred it at the beginning (and let it become clear over time). Aof and co are getting a lot of mileage with their use of Day’s level of vision, but I personally think it is important to periodically remind the audience of what Day’s working with:

OH ALSO, CONTENT WARNING FOR STROBE EFFECTS FROM TIME 0:18-0:34 IN PART ONE. 

That said, there were a few aspects of Day’s disability storyline that I found interesting. 

I loved watching everybody interview for the caretaker position, it was really fun to see the comedy and ridiculousness of some of the common sentiments (shout out to Mr. “I’m not helping him, he’s helping me”, worst anyone has ever done it, buddy: 12/10) being played for the absurdities they are.

I loved some of the set dressing, even if it feels a little obvious. The painting in Day’s house with like four or five heads being split by one giant eye in the center is a fucking brilliant choice. (and this is not related to the disability aspect, but the little bandaid Rung put on her car absolutely killed me, what an adorably tragic detail). 

3. I already said it, but I loved the way that Aof and co cuts between their normal sharpness and Day’s level of vision. Especially because Aof is using Sea, who I feel like most of the fan base knows, and has seen very much be Not Blind. I think stories that center around disability should actually be spending time showing the audience the difficulties that can stem from disability. It was extremely helpful, to me at least, to know what and how Day sees, you get a much better sense of danger when he walks in to the street, when you know how he is trying to navigate. I loved how impossible it was to differentiate the shuttlecock from the ground during the badminton game. And, I think they got the balance right, and didn’t over use that tactic in the first episode, but I will be interested to see if they continue to use it throughout the show

4. The semi-infantilization of Day by his family. This feels so similar to some aspects of Heart’s family dynamics and so different in others. Both families are very protective of their disabled child in the sense that they (in my mind) overestimate their child’s limitations. But, where Heart’s family was more detached from him: leaving him alone in the house so often, not learning sign language, etc. Day’s mother won’t even let Day stand up and walk like…30 feet in a straight line. Day’s brother, Night, yells at Day for getting out of the car and going up to the Society for the Blind so he can search for music to listen to. It is really fascinating actually, having just wrapped up Unit 2: Race, Class, and Disability from @bengiyo’s queer cinema syllabus, to compare the way Day, a grown adult man, is being treated by his family, compared to say, Leo from The Way He Looks. There are definitely intersections of concern and tighter leashes around these characters than I think either Day or Leo would like. But, because Leo has been blind his entire life, there are aspects of his blindness that are normalized and integrated in his family that are not present in Day’s because…they are new to the whole blindness thing.  __

Something I am iffy about as this progresses is the conversation around eye transplants for Day.  Of course, everyone has the right to choose how to handle their disability, but in a story that from my own interpretation feels like it is partially about accepting new realities, I am waiting to see how that particular story element shapes up. I also think there is/was an opportunity to play with sound in thai show, and I do not know if they are going to do that. But, GMMTV and sound design have never really gone hand in hand.  __

One thing I very much did not like about Day’s disability storyline: 

THE FUCKING CENTER FOR THE BLIND DOES NOT HAVE BRAILLE

ANYWHERE!

I don’t know where they shot this, if it was at an actual center or if it was a set/made to be a center for the blind but…

There is no braille on the elevator 

There is no braille on the books

There is no way to easily know what CDs are on that table. 

And like, I have no clue as of yet if braille is something that Day has learned (and I did look it up there is both Thai and Lao braille). It’s been a year since he started losing his vision, so he would have had time to learn. But this center does not revolve around Day, so either way, WHY THE FUCK IS THERE NO BRAILLE? I have to assume this is a place they just dressed as a center for the blind, and that there were limited changes they could make to the space or something to justify the fact that this society for the blind is not accessible for the blind. 

Also, everybody in the center was staring at Day trying to find the CD that he dropped, and like…y’all are staff at a center for the blind, why are you acting so surprised? 

Curious to see how this show continues. 

[beelmons]

love comes in moments.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader Rating: Mature, 13+. Tags: Angst, no happy ending, Reid!POV, slow burn if you squint Word count: 6,772 Summary: Dr. Spencer Reid writes a memoir about the 15 years he spent by your side, and everything you went through since the moment you joined the BAU. A/N: I wanted to feel utter pain, so I wrote it. Hopefully you will suffer with me. Also, this hasn't been proof read, so things might change a bit during the week as I re-read it. This fic ended up having an aftermath with an slightly happier ending, you can read it here Heavily inspired by these two songs: 1 , 2 Tag list: @hey-dw @cassiemartzz

“Entry 1: The humble beginnings. 

I still remember the day you first came through the doors of the unit. Shoulders down, your stare facing the floor, walking slightly behind Gideon. You were nervous, at the least, but if your body spoke as loudly as I was guessing, terrified would have been a more accurate word. 

I couldn’t shake your hand, the germophobia wasn’t always nice to me, but you didn’t care. You understood. You faked a high-five, and just like that we had our own little inside joke. I had made a new friend within thirty seconds of meeting her; that was a first, but silly me, twenty-something and naïve, I couldn’t notice right away that a woman like you was meant to be many “firsts”, and even greater “onlys.”

“She’ll be your partner, be nice.” those were Hotch’s words. 

Not until much later would I have come to realize the weight of that warning. Trained eyes could reach everything I wasn’t able to. I wonder if you noticed the utter adoration that man had for you, as a subordinate, as a friend, as a companion. Aaron always had that eagle-like eye to spot people who needed him just as much as he needed them. Emily and Derek were a clear example, but that’s besides the point. 

Now, believe me when I say I’m sorry I didn’t notice how beautiful you were the second I laid my eyes on you. Perhaps, that would have saved us a lot of pain, or rather given us a lot more happiness. I was, to my ill luck, blinded by my adoration for someone else. I wouldn’t label it a mistake, it’s fair to say it was just an unfortunate event at the time, that would later come in doubles, and then in triples, like a series of them. 

Do you remember that book? ‘A series of unfortunate events’ by Lemony Snicket. It was the first thing you gave me as a birthday present, that and the ridiculous hat that haunts me to this day. Engraved in my mind I have the expression you made when I told you it was a children’s book. 

“No way! I’m giving a children’s book to a genius?!” the anguish in your voice was palpable, you were truly ashamed. 

“Well, this is not the illustrated version, so it’s technically not a children’s book. I love it, thank you.” I tried to reassure you, but I wasn’t very good at that.

Maybe, you just wanted your partner to like you, to show me you were trying, or to prove that you could know me as much as the others in such little time, but regardless of the reason you felt like you’d failed. I could see it, and I regret not letting you know just how precious that possession would turn out to be. 

Months later, we would also come to know that you couldn’t stand for that long without moving, otherwise your legs would feel swollen for days. Six hours you spent with me at the shooting range, even after Hotch had given up. They had to kick us out, and out of hunger we found that indian restaurant that’s open 24/7. I refuse to believe I still failed that certification, you were one of the best teachers I’ve ever had, but I’ll always be thankful for every missed shot, since that night I found the wonder that butter chicken was. My first time having indian food. 

Interestingly enough, we didn’t go back to that place on our own, jobs, people, life always getting in the way. Now I understand, then, it was no wonder the chicken never tasted the same.  

Entry 2: Trial, one of many. 

I still wonder how you always managed to show up, regardless of the way I constantly seemed to juggle with my own life. The first time I died, courtesy of Tobias Hankle’s dad, I wondered if my mom was going to be okay. Funny, huh? Even in death I found it hard to put my life first. I know that always pissed you off, and I never knew better, and I’m sorry to tell you I’ve kept the bad habit, I’m afraid. 

Peaceful doesn’t quite describe the way it felt, my last breath I mean. Relieved, I guess, would fit better. I had told you before, hadn’t I? The hospital she was in, the books she liked best, the letters I wrote everyday. It was a hopeful relief, I craved that you would have come to care for me enough to look after my mother if I were to be gone. 

Luckily, you didn’t get the chance to prove it, but many years later I would understand that, back then and there, you would have moved heaven and earth for me; and I should have known by the way your arms found me amidst the dark of that cemetery. I should have known by the way you stayed in my messy apartment throughout the night, by the way you held my arm when I woke up shaking in terror, and by the way you repeated that same routine every evening for almost a week. 

Should have known after you dropped everything to meet me at Gideon’s cabin as I cried over his gun and badge, as I mourned someone that I hadn’t lost, as I yet again felt insufficient to remain, to make him stay. I’m still not sure why I called you. Perhaps you would share the burden of losing a mentor, or maybe you would notice that I was breaking down, that I was too weak to fix myself, and even weaker to ask for help. No one reached out for me because I never screamed, no one knew how bad I needed it. And yet, with a simple whisper miles away, you came. You showed up. 

I should have known right when you were sitting by the toilet bowl, your hair tie loosely holding my hair together so it wouldn’t get dirty. Did I think I looked good with that? Why did I ever leave it that long? Stop, I can’t also be rambling while I write, not that you ever minded the infinite data of nothingness, did you? Circling back, I still feel the coldness of your fingers, pale with concern, as they curled around my trembling wrist while I threw up my guts and soul in that white container. 

“You should go.” I would whisper in between gargles and spits. 

“And leave you like this?” you weren’t even looking at me. I guess the image of my body bent over a basin, sickly and frail, was enough to be engraved in your mind with one glance. 

“I’m just one of the 21 million americans that struggle with at least one addiction. I’m nothing special.” I grumbled with disdain “And you don’t have a magic wand you can wave and make it go away. You’re nothing special.” 

You sighed at my words, by then you knew how stubborn I could be, am I correct? It didn’t take a profiler to figure out something like that. “Only 10% seek help, though. Those odds make you special enough, don’t you think?” If you said anything else, I cannot remember. I could only focus on the fast speed of my beating heart, that I mistook for undesired side-effects of the drugs. 

Withdrawal can be hell, but I had already had a taste of that, so I figured I could handle a bit more of it. You, on the other hand, were not ready for the burden that was I. I could see the facade you put on whenever I said something so hurtful anyone else would have gone out running, the subtle swallowing of the knots in your throat, the deep, shaky breaths, the way your eyelids clung to the tears that threatened to come out. Yes, I should have known right then and there, after you met the worst of me, and yet stayed. 

Entry 3: Did I care to share? 

To be fair, you were a bit to blame for my obliviousness. A pure heart is a mystery for men who don’t know kindness, and life hadn’t been particularly tender to me. I had begun to question if, maybe, the lifeline that had become your gentle hand meant something else. But more often than not, I had learned that love follows after life, and if it had been gentle enough to give you to me, who was I, a mere mortal, to want more, to show greed. 

You were there for Elle and her revolting, for Morgan and his search for his truth, for Garcia and her desire to cling to life after her very own kindness had almost taken it from her, and for Hotch and his falling into the darkest of despairs. You would tell me how you had to cancel plans to make him company, how you woke up extra early to make sure he’d have breakfast, how you’d pretend to be walking by his new bachelor apartment as an excuse to check up on him, and spend extra hours just so you could get him to talk in his office.I watched you worry and give your best to put a smile on a saddened face. Just like you had done for me, and the many people that we both loved. It hurt, it selfishly hurt. Your love was so vast it could fill a dam and still pour, yet my thirst could barely be quenched. 

My skin still burns with the memory of your tears falling on my hand when I told you my cravings had started again. I saw the glint of failure in your eyes, like I had years ago with the children's book. It made me question if eidetic memory could translate to the sense of touch, to this day it is vivid, like they cover me again whenever I feel the urge, whenever I need to escape. 

Once again, you showed up. You showed up at my apartment to pick me up, like a toddler waiting to be taken to the doctors, only that the person that would fix me was not a medic, it was a sponsor. I don’t think I’d have been brave enough to show up by myself, to get help on my own, if I hadn’t been so scared to hurt you again, probably bad enough to finally push you away. 

It was okay, even if you were to be shared, if your heart had space for everyone else, I was happy to know I could belong as well, to be included. I was okay sharing you, as long as I got a piece. 

Entry 4: The dreaded distance. 

I never understood politics, or the system. Ironic, though, since human behavior is nothing but a mixture of different structures interacting together, creating a being that then I would dedicate my entire life to studying. But it was always so confusing, why would they rip you away from me? Didn’t they see how good you were? Perhaps that was the issue.

I still remember the way you clung to my chest when we were saying goodbye. Did the DEA really need you? Did it really have to be you? It wouldn’t be the only time the bureau would plot against me, against the hope I grasped on to continue doing my job, but it certainly was the hardest one, and mind you, the first one. The pain of having a friend ripped from my arms, a handful of things could only compare. 

Hotch would later come to confess that my hatred for the superiors was unfunded. You were not taken, you were a tribute. When Strauss came in arms, you had to surrender to protect me. They made Aaron choose between me and you, one had to leave, it wasn’t up for discussion, and you volunteered. Because you knew, I could barely make it anywhere else. 

“It’s been a while since I was hugged like this.” you said when we were strong enough to finally pull apart, when the clock was streaking 6, and there was no professional excuse to keep you in the building for longer. 

“Like what?” I had to ask. You deserved to be engulfed in arms every waking second. You deserved to be carried by the holiest of angels. Why wouldn’t I hug you like we were in a Shakespearean tragedy? 

“Like somebody was afraid of losing me.” you answered. 

Oh, my love, was I terrified.

Maybe I am dramatic. You weren’t dead, you weren’t gone, just in a different building, in the same city. I knew where you lived, where you bought your coffee, and your favorite place to dine in. Yet, you felt so far away, so out of reach I could barely handle it. I missed you, so dearly, so madly. 

Weekly escapades to the geekiest of places, a lousy street diner I was too scared to eat at, and that I would just because of you, the faking of high-fives whenever I got an idea, my favorite inside joke, the laughter in the bullpen at my unintentioned comments, the looking over my shoulder to see if you were still there, the joy in my chest whenever you entered the room, the love I didn’t know was love. All gone, away from me. 

Your midnight calls were balm to an open wound. Calming at the stake of some pain. And I knew, one of the very few things I knew, that you weren’t doing good in that place, that your pain was greater than you would express, but your body wouldn’t lie to me, it could never lie to me, the sighs between sentences, the strain in your voice, the tiredness in your breath. But I wasn’t like you, I couldn’t just show up, I didn’t know how. I didn’t know I helped. I didn’t know I was to you what you were to me. A beacon of light, of hope.  

I wondered what was hurting you. Was I not nice enough for you to tell me what, or who, was causing that to you? “Be nice” Hotch had said. Was he nicer? You always went to him for things like these, the matters of the heart. I had to hear from Garcia, months later, about that mysterious fellow agent that was making you cry, and I realized in that moment that I had never known rage. The pure, raw need to tear someone limb by limb. How dare he toy with a soul as giving as yours? Like using the crown jewel as a skipping stone. 

Fortunately, I was not the only one that wanted to protect you. Not the only one that cared enough. A visit from Morgan, a call from Hotch, and the rat was gone, for good, and you were back in the unit, for better. 

Entry 5: When I knew without knowing. 

You’d changed, I could see, and I’d heard heartbreak does that to a person. Yet your smile always seemed to shine bright. It shone for our boss, swallowed in deep grief, it shone for JJ as she was, to no one’s surprise, cruelly taken from us, it shone for Prentiss and her struggles, the ones that were there even when she wouldn’t confess to them. 

Do you remember the flame of my tears on your shoulder when I heard she was dead? I could barely stay home. The walls seemed to crush me if I was alone. I hopped from your house, to JJ’s, to the office, to yours yet again. Your arms were my solace, my God given solace. Whenever I turned, you were there. 

I don’t know what was harder to deal with: her death or her return to life. How did you manage to not take a side? You felt the same pain I did. You cried the same tears I shed. I wondered if you were always stronger than me. Stupid question, the answer was yes. 

“I’m just saying, Spencer.” you twirled around in my kitchen as you spoke, impatient since I was taking a long time to get ready, and there was an appointment to get to.

“Well, okay, then stop saying!” I was shoving a couple of books and other belongings, I can’t even remember what, as I subtly yelled at you. 

Time and again, the stupid book would slip out whenever I tried to close my bag. It was frustrating, infuriating. Kind as you were, you kneeled with me, your hand brushed mine, and a mere graze was enough to slow me down. I looked at you. Did you see pain? I know you did. You always did. My body couldn’t lie to you. 

“I feel it too.” you began to talk “The guilt. The wishing that she was still gone so you wouldn’t have to go through the excruciating pain of betrayal.” bullseye, as per usual. I started to cry; you always made me comfortable enough to break down without care. “If you truly don’t wish to make up with them, the girls, I’ll be on your side. You have the right to feel hurt. If you tell me, right now, hand to heart, that you want to skip Rossi’s dinner and go catch that ridiculous black and white movie, I’ll get up and walk beside you, like I’ve done countless times, and I will also be there, when you are filled with regret, and the words can’t leave your mouth to ask for their forgiveness for your attitude.”

Dragged by your hand, we showed up, and I felt it, the memory of a feeling long not emoted, the warmth of family. You were right, you were always right. I walked you to your place that night, stumbling a little from the wine, laughing about something Garcia and Morgan had said. We stood by your doorway, and you stopped. You looked at me, so deeply, so filled with pride. How could I be so stupid? I should have kissed you at that moment. I should have hugged you in a way you hadn’t before, in a way that told you that in this and many other lives, I needed you with me. I needed you to be mine. 

Entry 6: The start of my demise. 

I still wonder how you did it. How did you stand beside me with a straight face while you broke on the inside? Watching me slowly fall for someone else to a point of no return, a point of devotion you had long earned. 

You knew about Maeve before anyone else. I didn’t have to tell you, my smile gave me away, since you knew it better than anyone, you were the one that put it back there more than once. You supported my every move, my every whim, my every idea to please her, to make her love me. And she loved me, and I loved her, there’s no point in hiding it. 

How did you do it? Seriously, how did you advise me to court her and hear me rant about her  like she was the latest scientific breakthrough? How did you wear a straight face as mine lit up at the thought of her name? How did you pour your heart out to help me find her? All while wearing that damned smile, the cursed reason for my existence. How did you not fall in shambles as you watched me love her? I would have, without question.

So, I beg of you to tell me. How could you possibly love me while I loved someone else? 

It’s like a riddle whose answer is before me, but I can’t see it, I can’t find it. To this day it amazes me, the way that you remained outside my door throughout the night. Did you think I didn’t know you were there? The way you took care of my food and services. Did you know I couldn’t bring myself to even check my bank account? The way you saw through me when I came back to work. You knew I wasn’t okay, regardless of my attempts to prove so. 

You remained for months by my side, showing up at my door when the night got too cold, holding my head on your lap as I sobbed, as I, once again, mourned. You stood there with me trying to fix something someone else had broken, something you didn’t even know if you could glue back together. 

“If I believed in religion, at least I could cling to the hope of meeting her again.” I muttered, and you laughed a bit. 

“Perhaps in another universe, if you’re lucky enough.” smart of you to talk to me in terms I could understand.

“It doesn’t feel like it will ever end, you know? The grief.” I confessed to you as your fingers threaded on my locks, body too tired to hold up straight from crying, so my head laid on your thigh. 

“It will.” you reassured “Maybe not soon, but it will.” 

“Maybe.” I could only agree “but I can’t count on you to soothe my pain forever.” I only looked up because your fingers stopped moving, but I’m glad I did, I’m glad I caught your eyes, filled with endless determination, as you spoke. 

“Says who?” did you mean it? Forever? 

Entry 7: All that’s well… 

After JJ’s abduction, something drastically changed. Not just the two of us, but the entire team. Our secrets were no longer innocent and blameless, they were dangerous, harmful. They could tear us apart if not properly shared. They could push us away if we didn’t say them outright. 

My love for you was my deepest rooted secret, pushed so far into the drawer I had forgotten about it myself, too scared to pull it out, afraid I’d just have to push it back in without giving it a chance to show off. 

No more secrets. That’s the pact we all agreed on. I kept thinking about that as you walked with me. You knew it had hit me hard to see JJ so weak and hurt, reduced to bruises and agony; you also knew I would find a way to blame myself if I were to be left alone in that room, so you decided to make me some company. We dined in silence, utter absence of sound that did not, at any moment, feel odd. You walked with me, not next to me, with me. And you waited by the door for my invitation to enter. I could just stare at you, so beautifully patient, so wonderfully loving. So easy to love. 

“No more secrets.” I told you, my eyes unable to leave your face. 

“Yes, Spence. No more secrets.” you answered with that blissful smile of yours. You caught up rather quick that I was hiding something. I could never fool you, not you. “Is there something else you need to tell me?” you questioned me, and I could see the look in your eyes trying to subtly profile me. 

I couldn’t bring myself to answer. Over 7,000 languages are spoken in this world, and there were still not enough words to describe what I felt for you. I didn’t talk. My lips just found their way to yours, so naturally, so right. 

“This is a mistake.” you muttered. You were still unsure, you would tell me later, that life could be so kind to you, to have me love you. How silly of you, darling, to even dare to think I could not. 

Our bodies didn’t lie, they couldn’t lie to each other. Your tongue gave you away, it spoke of truce but tasted of war. Your hands explored all of my body, they felt my every vein, and tasted the pulse of a heart that beat for you. Your mouth spilled honey-like sounds as I greedily took every part of you for my pleasure. As I embedded your scent in my brain, to the record of things I loved about you. I had never made love. Sex, once or twice, but never love. I remember watching you sleep, your warm cheek on my bare chest; your hands, even unconsciously, clinging to my torso as if I were to slip away like a dream. But you felt so real, oh honey, you were so real. You were so mine. And I couldn’t remember the last time I was held so close I could touch love. 

I can still hear Hotch’s sermon. No more secrets, that’s what we pacted, and you were big on promises, but to be fair, so was I. An hour, I recall, we were shoved inside that office. Hands together, faces down, like children caught in the act. 

“Fraternization is dangerous,” it was his third time saying that “and if this were to come out, I would have to transfer one of you.” we didn’t care, and he could tell. He sighed, in defeat. “Just tell me one thing.” he changed directions “Are you happy?” 

He was asking you, yet pretended the question was for both. You didn’t entertain him with an answer. He already knew. He knew in the way you reached for my hand, in the way I held back a smile. He nodded. Did he approve? I don’t think we’ll ever know, but he protected us, he always protected us. 

That day, we drank and danced all together, as if our love was a reason for celebration. Apparently, it wasn’t a secret to anyone but us. Long ago they figured we’d end up together, even got some complaints for having been later rather than sooner. 

Life was good and kind with you by my side, filled with laughter, adventure, and pleasure. The darkest nights still glimmered with your presence, like a blindfold being lifted to reveal the cold truth; all it took for life to be kind was me loving you, and you loving me. 

Entry 8: Alone we stand 

When did I stop making sense? Curiously enough, that’s the one moment I can’t pinpoint. I broke a promise, and the downfall caught up. 

“Were you even going to tell me?!” you paced around my apartment in rage. 

“Come on, you know I was” I had gotten defensive, regardless of my wrongdoing. 

“When, exactly? After you had fixed it? ‘Cause you have to fix everything alone?” you snarked at me. 

“I don’t want to sound rude, but it’s a private matter.” worst phrasing I could have chosen, to be honest. 

“I’m your girlfriend, Spence. I think I have proven for quite a while now that I’m here for the bad and the worst. Instead, I have to find out your mother has Alzheimer’s through a hitman. You told a hitman before you told me!” I see now, that your anger was not unfounded. 

“She had a gun to my crotch! What did you want me to do!?” I tried to argue. 

“Oh, okay, so that’s what it takes to get you to open up?” 

No, you didn’t hold a gun to my crotch. You did way worse, you forgave me, and we moved on. But it was never the same, oh no, I could feel it, we both could feel it. How conversations seemed to require more energy, how the touches were more scripted than impulsive, how after a few hours you realized that you hadn’t thought about me in a little while. 

I tried to fix it. It’s what I always do. Perhaps if I could get us both in the same place, it would happen again, the spark that we had lost. I asked you to move in with me, and you agreed. We were happy again, not simply because of the fact, but because it was a great reminder for both of us, that the future was together, it had always been together. 

But alas, life isn’t kind enough. We had agreed to find a new place, somewhere we could turn ‘ours’ without getting rid of the ‘mine’. It was taking time, of course, since we wanted it to be perfect. And little did we know that time was the only thing in this world we didn’t have. 

The news of Hotch’s departure hurt us all in a way we never truly recovered from, but for you, for the never-ending-loving you, it left a wound I couldn’t close. I saw the always dreaded glint of loneliness in your eye, the same one I carried when Gideon left. I saw the breaking of a soul that had lost a mentor, a protector, you lost the ground you walked onto and never learned how to fly. 

We didn’t make it. I don’t think it was your fault, or mine, for that matter, life just happened so fast, so merciless. I loved you, that never stopped, and you loved me, I know that much. All I could do was hold on to the hope that I had made the right decision, the decision to push you away, to save you from the torture that our life would be. I would do anything for my mother, even if that meant standing back on my own, without you. 

I’m sorry, my love, that it took me so long to understand. That the strength you were lending me was not for me to judge, but to carry, to use as a tool to build what we dreamed of . I didn’t learn about it until JJ visited one day, when I was mourning the love that we had, that she told me what happened the day she showed up at your apartment, knees on the ground, to beg you to continue loving me. 

“It wasn’t my decision, Jennifer.” you said, barely allowing yourself to glance at her. 

“He’s just doing this because he thinks he’s protecting you, you know that.” she tried to argue on my behalf. 

“JJ, you are his best friend, if you’re asking me to convince him to change his mind, you know it would be easier to get Garcia to play soccer.” you were right, by the way. JJ was about to give up. 

“He needs you.” she kept trying. 

“No, he doesn’t.” you answered “He needs someone to be there for him, at his constant back and call, to dedicate their very being to his happiness, to pour out the entirety of themselves onto him, and I can’t be that person. I can’t.” 

“But why not!?” to her, it also didn’t make much sense. You always were, what was different this time? 

“Because I’m not whole.” you finally admitted. 

She had to hear you cry for hours at how lost you felt. I didn’t understand I’d become a part of you, and by taking me away, I was ripping a portion of who you were. With Hotch gone, there was no way you could fix yourself, not fast enough, at least. I’m sorry, sweetheart, I didn’t know. 

You stayed for the man that more than once had your back. You stayed to catch Mr. Scratch. I was no longer the hope you held on to, I was no longer the one you chased after, Aaron was your last hope, your last piece to make sense of whatever you felt like was happening around you. The person who would return to you the will to love something that wasn’t me. 

But he wasn’t there, and you were lost. 

Entry 9: Together we fall apart. 

I can’t blame you for leaving, you had no reason to stay, the job had long ago stopped making sense, it was the people that you loved what made you stick around, and now we were gone, in more than one sense. And believe when I say I missed you, with every pore of my heart, even if I couldn’t bring myself to reach out to at least know how you were doing. 

I did wonder, though, if having you around would have made a difference. If you could have seen something all of us missed, if you had protected me better, if you could had helped me when I didn’t know how to help myself. 

Cat Adams would ruin me in more than one way, sure, but regarding us, I’m sure now I’m the only one to blame. A series of unfortunate events by Spencer Reid.

“We told her you were in prison.” Emily said as she sat across the booth, with a crystal screen separating the both of us. There was no need to say your name. They all knew you were all I ever thought about. “She’s asking to be put on the list.” 

“Emily!” I yelled out of reflex .

“I’m sorry, Spence, but she’s really worried, and maybe she could help.” 

“My answer is no.” I watched her sigh as I said those words. 

“Can I at least tell her you’re thinking about it?” she still tried to convince me, for your sake. “And, will you think about it?” I nodded. 

I promise I thought it through, hard and well. It’s not that I didn’t want to see you, I didn’t want you to see me. I knew, I knew you would try to fix it, and I couldn’t do that to you, not again. Regardless, you still tried. You made sure my mother was safe and well, you made her company, it wasn’t your fault, I don’t hold it against you, they outsmarted us all. And I’m sorry, again, that after I was freed I still couldn’t bring myself to face you. 

Many things happened in the following years. I wish I could have seen you one more time just to tell you all about it. A coffee by my apartment window, a nap on that comfy living room couch, a laugh by the bullpen. The things I’d have done to have one more moment with you. 

The second time I died, it was way less scary. Guess I had some practice. If I told you who I saw, you wouldn’t have believed me, but it was the message that counted. I wasn’t ready to go, and I wasn’t ready to leave you. If I were to stay, I was going to fight to at least see you one more time, to hear your laugh once again.

My mom did tell me that I should be careful what I wish for, and when I woke up in that hospital room, after a horrible stroke nonetheless, I understood why. 

“Please don’t be mad at me.” Penelope remained for a second by my bed after my mom had left to get some water. 

My eyebrows furrowed the slightest, I couldn’t move that much. “What did you do?” 

“I didn’t know if you were going to make it, and I didn’t think much before I hit the call.” she continued to explain. 

Again, I could only tilt my head in confusion, something about having brain failure had made me the tiniest bit slower. The fog cleared very quickly, though, once I saw you walk through the door. You were as beautiful as the day I met you, only now I could see, and I would never cease to see. You walked to the bed and your hand reached out for mine, like it was supposed to be. 

“Hey, you.” you said softly. 

“Hey,” I muttered. If I had been able to breathe better, believe me I would have yelled out like an excited 5 year old “what are you doing here?” 

“I recently realized I’ve grown into the habit of showing up after you almost died.” you joked, and it was like time hadn’t passed at all “which, if you ask me, it’s a weird habit to have.” it was my turn to laugh, you always caused that in me. 

Penelope had stepped out, she knew we needed the space, as for our souls could only be bare if it was just the two of us. You came closer, and our eyes met, and time actually stopped, and everything was okay. 

“I will always love you.” I’m sorry I said it like that, I know it’s not what you expected. 

“Spencer…” you began to talk. 

“No, just,” I cut you off “I know I can get it right this time.” the way that you looked at me I will never forget, a look you had never given me, that you respected me too much to give me, the look of pity. 

“I’m not a second chances program” you started “I couldn’t just wait around until you were ready to notice that I was still there, that you allowed me back in.” 

Your tears threatened to fall. I could see them, that’s not what I wanted, that’s never what I wanted. I reached for your face, and you leaned against my hand. Old habits die hard, don’t they? I should know, since I had fallen into the habit of wanting you, of loving you. This and every other life. I couldn’t hold them any longer, the sobs, the tears, the pain, the pain only you could heal, only you could let me show. I love you because of your strength, since it allowed me to be weak without remorse. 

You did the same for me, your gentle fingers caressing my cheek, pushing away the salty droplets. “It’s okay, Spencer, it’s okay.” you whispered “we have to let us go.” 

“And if we’re lucky enough?” I asked. 

“If we’re lucky enough,” your face smiled, but the strain in your voice showed me the misery in your words, along with their genuinity “in another universe, you would have been with Maeve and I would have never loved you. And we could finally be happy.” 

You couldn’t have been more wrong to think, even for a second, that my destiny was any other than you. I didn’t have the words to prove it, I could form a sentence to save my life, save the love of my life. I tried to kiss you. I wish you had done it, you would have understood. 

“My boyfriend is waiting outside.” you muttered before my lips could meet home, and like that, you were gone. 

Entry 10: I think I’ll be alright. 

I never saw you again, but it’s okay. Years to come I would question every decision I had made, did they lead me to you, or just pushed you away? There was no way of telling. Regrets are a broken sword, dull enough to be harmless, and sharp enough to hurt. Would you have done something differently? I doubt so. 

I’m thankful, nonetheless, to have been given the opportunity to concur. To have been loved by you. I did wish for a different ending, but who am I to be selfish? I had it all, even if I lost it. Until years later I would hear about your marriage; you eloped, as we always thought we would do, planning a wedding was too much of a hassle. Did you end up having kids? If you did, lucky them, if something they were to never lack, it would be love. I hope he is treating you well, that you are happy, like you always deserved. 

Me? I finally had to learn. The grief finally went away, you see, someone once told me that love comes in moments, and later in life I found myself clinging to that thought. If love comes in moments, my darling, after everything we've been through, yours will last me a million years. 

Even if I got just a fraction of it.” 

The silence was covered by the rustling of book pages as the woman finished speaking. Yet her crowd of one didn’t seem to show much reaction, which was a source of concern. 

"Spencer, would you like me to read it again?" Penelope asked as she swayed back and forth on the rocking chair the staff had given to her. 

"Sorry?" he asked, seemingly lost in thought.

"Ma'am." a gentle nurse interrupted them "visitation time is over, Dr. Reid has to rest."

"Of course." the once blonde woman, whose hair now shone silver, said as she handed the diary back to his owner "Here, take this."

"Is this mine?" a still confused Spencer continued to question.

"Yes, it's your favorite book." she reiterated.

"Really?" his fingers fidgeted with the cover "What is it about?"

Penelope couldn't help the way her eyes filled with water, like they did every week whenever she had to leave the friend she'd visit in that mental facility without fail.

"The greatest love story ever told."

[asimpledreamwanderer]

random (humanized) ttte headcanons!

the scottish twins absolutely love marmalades of any sort. they make it their goal to have some sort of marmalade at least once a day and love to try new marmalades (and douglas has racked up quite the skill in making dundee marmalade too!)

as patriotic as duck is about "the great western way," and to an extent, london and england, as much as he loves typical british cuisines, he absolutely despises chicken tikka masala being seen as a national dish of the united kingdom, but not for the reason many would think he does. he despises it seeing it as more of a disgrace to actual south asian foods, having seen the world prior and exploring many different regions and their cuisines, and actually believes that the dishes are best kept the way they are intended, and often recommends individuals other south asian dishes to try when this fact comes up.

james tousles and plays with edward's hair to help him go to sleep. earlier on in their relationship, edward used to experience frequent nightmares and sleeping troubles, something that would worry james to no end- especially since edward is very good at hiding any turmoil he experiences, and edward usually takes on a leading outwardly supportive role in their relationship. james began to big spoon when the two would get ready to sleep and play with edward's hair while having conversations about their day with edward until edward falls asleep, then holding him warmly throughout the night. one of his favorite things is waking up in the morning to edward sleeping soundly in his arms as the sun traces over them entangled in the covers.

percy actually becomes somewhat of a common man in local railway politics- not assisting directly in strikes, but negotiating for specific conditions and requests of workers to be met- and following edward, probably eventually becomes one of the fat controller's right hand men when it comes to overlooking operations and making sure everyone stays on task. he's also very good with children, having enough of a childlike spirit to have fun with them while also being responsible and stern enough to establish boundaries with them. percy is more of a quiet observer sort, slowly developing from being more or less of a c*nt to seeming more curious and childlike- though the childishness is not intentional, he simply wishes to know more and collect that information.

(tw: misogyny mentioned)

mavis definitely didn't have the best experiences prior to working on the sodor quarry and on the north western railway. she was oftentimes the only female driver, if not the only female diesel engine driver on her old railway, and was subject to crude language, misogynistic threats, and was forced to double down in favor of her male colleagues quite often. it's why when she came onto the north western and the sodor quarry she became irritable, and even more irritable when toby was trying to kindly direct her on where to put the trucks. for the first time, a male colleague was simply directing her- not berating her, not making crude misogynistic remarks to her, not threatening her alongside her engine- simply directing her and ensuring she does her tasks right. and that set off years of trauma from all of the misconduct and misogyny she experienced on her former railway to seep out, leading to her feeling as if she was "taking control" over her life by doing what she wished- but obviously, resulted in poor decision making. i'd imagine since then especially with emily and toby's places on the north western she has gotten a therapist and reached out to friends for emotional support- she's in a much better place now :)

thomas LOVES anything cheesy. and with bacon. he's also really really willing to try new foods and LOVES spicy food. unfortunately his cheekiness has also led to him sneaking a few REALLY HOT peppers into gordon's sandwiches which.. well... let's say it didn't end up well for poor thomas.

millie actually adores listening to stephen's stories of the older days, when he was referred to as "the rocket," and of how different life was back then- she's a little bit of a railway historian herself, and her engine's cab has many railway posters from the older days plastered inside it as a tribute to railway history

[bluebudgie]

My six endgame units and their crests :')

1-Aramis' unit (formerly "Let's go lesbians", now "the siblings squad and Leah") featuring from left to right: Leah, Gilbert, the man himself, Hilda and Primm. (Shoutout to Virginia who was here until the final battle)

2- Sanatio's unit (aka "the angel squad") with Ochlys, squad leader Sanatio, Gloucester, Sharon and Sanatio's boyfriend Nigel (shoutout to Miriam who was part of it before Nigel joined)

3- Auch's unit (aka "the RGB squad") which was an absolute powerhouse of destruction featuring Dinah, Fodoquia, Rosalinde, chicken mage Auch (I have no idea how to pronounce that name in english) and Eltolinde.

4-Lhinalago's unit (aka "the archer squad") which is secretly Rolf's unit because Rolf carried the early game, featuring Ithilion, Liza, the op man Rolf, Lhin and the most adorable girl in the game Yunifi.

5-Aubin's unit (aka "Aubin's unit"), the force of "I won't keep this early game unit in the long run- oh nevermind they rock". Featuring "I'm putting FE armoured units to shame" Hodrick, Bertrand, Aubin, best girl Chloe and Guts Berserk Magellan.

6-Obligatorily Alain's unit, aka the "would be weird if the protagonist didn't have a squad" squad. This one changed a lot since I could never settle on a formation but I think we're now good with Renault, the FE lord, Raenys, Scarlett and Umerus. The last three are girlfriends.

[redwinesupernova]

okay i have my ipad to type better now. SO. MUSIC.

country songs:

would you go with me (josh turner) longer the waiting (josh turner)

colder weather (zac brown band)

cheyenne (george strait i'm pretty sure)

burning house (cam) mayday (cam)

molly ban (allison krauss) gravity (allison krauss + union station)

life goes on (ed sheeran + luke combs, not necessarily a country song, but luke combs has a country voice <3)

el paso (marty robbins) el paso city (marty robbins)

should've been a cowboy (toby keith)

wagon wheel (darius rucker)

and then anything by orville peck <333 forever and ever <33

misc. songs:

falling up (dean lewis) half a man (dean lewis)

chicken tendies (clinton kane)

lonely life (gatlin)

vanilla (holly humberstone)

woke up new (the mountain goats)

if i build a home on the moon (picture this) take my hand (picture this)

hey girl (stephen sanchez) lady by the sea (stephen sanchez)

sedona (houndmouth)

only children (jason isbell and the 400 unit) tupelo (jason isbell and the 400 unit) cast iron skillet (jason isbell and the 400 unit)

steamboat (adrianne lenker)

THANK YOU !!! my parents used to be friends with darius rucker actually so this is funny to me. also i adore holly humberstone and adrianne lenker thank you

[tobiramamonmari29]

outside perspective:

Pregnancy, what a wonderful thing! You are going to have a baby with the person of your life! You will have a mini you and a mini him united to show your love to all. Deidara was really happy to become a father! he had also been happy after Sasori and Kakuzu his two friends were expecting a child together. Hidan and Sasori were both 5 months pregnant soon to be 6 to be honest. It was rather funny to learn that at the same time as the other couple.

Deidara was really happy really. as Kakuzu had advised him they had done a kind of pregnancy yoga with teacher konan. They had learned to change diapers and do other things like sew adorable mini sweaters. Sasori and Hidan even did things together the blond never bothered to find out what. everything about Hidan's pregnancy was finally perfect... Except that.

It was displayed again at 2:05 a.m. when Hidan started shaking Deidara like a plum tree. Of course the blonde didn't panic but he woke up rather quickly even though he knew they had time before the delivery. nah, Hidan woke him up for his cravings that's what Deidara called them.

Hidan: go buy me some food.

Deidara: Honey, it's 2:00 a.m.

Hidan: Cook me dinner then.

Deidara: what do you want my love?

hidan: fried chicken, a burger, fries, a packet of strawberries, chins, take chips and a large pizza.

Deidara: well I conclude that I have to move my ass somewhere outside the kitchen....

Hidan: prepare me some things to eat before leaving for patience.

deidara: ok baby, but isn't that a bit too much? Said the blonde, risking the other man's thunderbolt.

Hidan: we are two now, don't you want our baby to be malnourished?

Deidara: Of course not.

Hidan: so feed me!

deidara: ok, i'll be back, is it ok with you while i'm gone?

Hidan: it depends what is it?

Deidara: two pots of noodles.

Hidan: I want the BBQ ones.

Deidara: Alright.

Deidara came back with the two pots of noodles. he had to run away because Hidan had only left him two happy little ones to get everything back. Luckily he learned from his mistakes and ordered while Hidan listed his midnight meal list for him. it took half to get half of what Hidan asked for. He had to race again to recover the remainder. He came back an hour early which was a feat. He didn't bother to take plates... He also learned from his mistakes on that side. hidan was sitting in their bed had his nightgown unzipped. He had already eaten the two jars of noodles he had thrown in their trash cans.

Hidan: You're finally here! Hurry up and feed me our hungry baby.

deidara: very well, the blond gave him the chickens which disappeared rather quickly. The pizza was gobbled up like he hadn't even chewed it.

there were only the strawberries left, he had just finished his chips when he started yelling at deidara to put the strawberries directly in his mouth. Deidara always wanted to be a father but in his life he had never signed up for it.

Fin

[senatushq]

NAME. Isla Allaway-Bryce AGE & BIRTH DATE. 30 & June 13th, 1992 GENDER & PRONOUNS. Female & She/Her SPECIES. Human OCCUPATION. Researcher for The Eye FACE CLAIM. Sophie Skelton

biography

( tw murder, torture ) The story began with Emilia Allaway and Aileen Bryce who met in Oxford University and settled in the Scottish highlands of Dalwhinnie. Among Emilia and Aileen’s closest friends was a busy man who never wanted his own children because his government job would make it far too difficult. But when the two women he loved dearly came to him for help in conceiving a child of their own, he was happy to give them both the dream of their own little family. And so Isla Allaway-Bryce was born. Her biological father would visit and keep in touch while her mothers adored and raised her in a small townhouse in the chilly country, complete with chickens and a cute, fluffy family dog in their backyard. Their little girl grew up with the thought of being a nurse so she moved to England when the time came to attend the alma mater of her parents. The city would be temporary. Her dream life was to work in a small town, somewhere small and green that reminded her of the peaceful, beautiful way that she had grown up with her moms.

And the city brought with it horrors. Her college experience did not end up being as normal as her life had been up until that point. Parties and questionable friendships led to Isla learning of vampire thralls and exposing her to a supernatural world that had been hidden from her eyes up to that point. Demons, fey, blood-sucking beasts... the things that only fearful highland Scottish legends spoke of. She found these thrall practices questionable and began to look them further for the safety of her reckless friends, only to come across a supernatural creature who caught wind of her curiousity and meddlesome nature. Isla was given a warning to mind her own business, and that warning came in the form of a long scar across her neck and right arm, with lifelong trauma brought on by the unexpected night of being thoroughly terrorized and threatened for the amusement of supernaturals.

Following this life-changing experience, her grades began to drop and so Isla decided to revisit all her academic goals. The warning she’d been given had not scared her away or being nosy and curious. In fact, it had done the opposite; it inflamed it to the point that it was all she could think about most days and all her nights. She changed her career paths, moving her love for science over to forensics because it would help her research. Isla began to use her skills and interest to investigate the supernatural world, growing more and more angry and frightened that this entire world had been hidden under her nose the entire time, killing people and destroying innocent lives. Hoping to do more to protect the oblivious, Isla contacted her biological father and kept her intentions secret as she asked him for help. With her father’s connections opening the door for her and her own merits keeping the door open to further invitation, she pushed her way into MI6, the foreign intelligence service of the United Kingdom. Isla did not see her life becoming a James Bond movie, however, because she still wanted the quiet family life and enjoyed science more than anything else. Truthfully, she had never seen herself working for the government like her biological father. But the government had the sources and equipment she needed. And so she found herself working for intelligence labs, using UK government equipment and sources to secretly conduct her own investigations on the side. Isla’s dangerous meddling and her useful proximity to the government eventually caught the attention of The Eye, and her clandestine recruitment started - as well as some unexpected lessons in Italian.

It took her a year of preparation by The Eye and manipulating her bosses at MI6 but she was finally given a position in Italy, where the Italian government was well aware that she was British Intelligence working alongside their own government, but neither governments were aware of her growing involvement with The Eye. She was working 2 jobs: gathering information for MI6 with Italy’s help on threats and also collecting/falsifying data for The Eye’s benefit. Her overwhelming amount of work made social life difficult, but one night she was finally encouraged to find some semblance of balance of work and personal life. The unwanted pregnancy that resulted from this single night out, a lovely night with music and charming company, had been a wake up call to the dangerous and unrecognizable thing that her life had somehow become since leaving Scotland. She had never wanted to live in a city and she never wanted to be so overwhelmed with different jobs. Isla had also never truly considered the idea of children. However, she found herself loving this child more than anything the moment that she learned of it, and she couldn’t stomach the idea of losing her son or daughter in favor for the mess that she’d made of her life.

So, in the early days of her pregnancy, Isla quit the MI6 and started to work within Rome’s city police as a forensic scientist. But it was far more difficult to leave The Eye behind, especially as she had only just begun in their ranks. There was no way to move back to Scotland and the beautiful country, so she decided to use her already established connections and friendships within two governments to aid The Eye as much as she could from within the city of Rome. She worked so hard to gain the hard-earned trust of The Eye, that her son’s birth was triggered by a nasty fall sustained after she worked far too long into the night, wandering sleepy and clumsy in the dark streets of Rome to get home. She was weak and so the doctors weren’t sure that her child had survived. But Evander Allaway-Bryce seemed to defy all odds and was born into the world as a perfectly healthy baby boy. Scotland came to him and his mother when Isla’s own two mothers came a few days later to move in with their daughter and grandson in the Italian city.

For a few months, things were quieting down. Isla accepted her new life in the city with her mothers and her son. The Eye started to give her more trust and access as she continued to prove her worth. One quiet night on Halloween, Isla took her family on a walk in the streets when mama Aileen insisted on admiring the ancient palaces under the gorgeous light of the moon. It was that fateful night that caused the death of both of her mothers, as monsters descended upon them from one of the gardens of those very palaces. Terror, thunder, haunting Eladrin music and the only reason she remembered it all was protection from The Eye. Isla was left alone with her son, unsure how to carry on by herself. Once upon a time, she’d had such a beautiful, quiet and peaceful life in the highlands of Scotland. Her curiousity and trauma had led Isla to seek out what she had been warned against and now both her mothers were dead because of it, and she had a son that she barely knew how to take care of on her own. Filled with anger and grief, Isla threw herself into work, losing sight of how much more important she knew her son and all her dreams were. Busy once again, she was blind once again. Isla failed to ponder the strange things happening around her little Evan, but time would only tell when she finally realized her son was much more than met the eye, and The Eye is exactly the sort of danger that she truly wanted to protect him from.

personality

+ altruistic, maternal, intelligent – withdrawn, meddlesome, timid

played by dany. est. she/her.

[andromachos]

dio yandere cracker barrel imagine

Yandere!Dio with a shy!S/O at Cracker Barrel

tw: yandere, sfw

Dio is a man of culture, he'd be drawn in to the exotic aura of a Cracker Barrel

If there's something that Dio adores is Control. He doesn't bring you in to enjoy the fine breakfast, no no. He loves to have you at his mercy in this old establishment, knowing anything you do will make the folk eating around judge you. The aesthetic is just a plus

He has one of your servants kidnap you, bring you in and tie you down to a chair

Then he has another one of his servants bring him in, because he can't drive

"Hrrrnnnnnnnnngh darling. I'm feeling particulary hungry tonight. What should I, Dio, eat? Perhaps... You? Nay, I jest. Unless...?"

You start sniffing. Dio knew you hated the food here. And the worst of all, he always ordered breakfast, despite it being nighttime. Couldn't you at least get some chicken tendies for once?

"Oi oi oi oi oi oi, poppet, don't cause a scene. You wouldn't want old man Jeremiah and the wife to stop enjoying their food because of some foul tears, wouldn't you darling? I don't remember having such an unconsiderate dollie"

You blushed involuntarily. This man knew you loved being called poppet. You must be strong y/n. Survive the night

When the waiter comes in with the menu Dio rips it off them inmediatly and puts his feet up in the table to read it. He needed to show he was in control

"Hrrrrrnnng darling I can't check the menu because it's only available in the United States. But tripadvisor says it has pancakes and such. What do you say, my tasteful little blood pancake?"

You start sobbing. He knew you were allergic to pancakes

"Can I get some egg and bacon?" you sob

"Ah, I see you're finally overcoming your fears poppet. Don't you love it, how your Lord Dio helps you come out of your shelf? Of course you can get eggs and bacon"

When the waiter comes back, he asks for pancakes. With extra syrup. No drinks.

When the food arrives, Dio grabs your chair by the leg, throws it to the air, spinning, and 180°s it in the air so you are sitting next you him. He feeds you a pancake.

You spit the pancake at him

He is startled. Then he slurps it at once and uses his fingers to lick off the syrup off his face (picture)

"Ough, my precious pancake poppet, my fragile little lamb, I see we're in a rebellious mood tonight"

He orders 3 more plates, and a full bottle of syrup

When you are brought back home you've lost all senses except for the taste of syrup, which is currently covering your face and clothes

Dio serves you out of the car like you're a volleyball, then blows you a kiss. "See you for tonight's date, poppet"

You sigh in resignation to your fate. At least the ants aren't there

The ants are already there

Thank you for your request, I hope you enjoy it thoroughly, and helped you make your yandere dreams come true 💖

[helliontherapscallion]

(Y/n) and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Week: Thursday (Part 2)

Monday     Tuesday     Wednesday     Thursday (Part 1)     Friday     Saturday     Sunday

Spotify Playlist (collaborative)

Warnings: panic attacks, swearing, puking, concussions, mentions of injuries/bullying, homophobia

Word count: 5,138

After school, you were sitting on the couch as you furiously typed on your keyboard at an extremely fast pace. You were on a roll with these essays, they were probably going to be finished by the time you had to go back to the school to get on the bus with the team. You figured that you could even finish Annie’s essay and get started on Sammy’s US history presentation on the sociopolitical climate of the United States in the mid twentieth century to today. However, instead of covering a variety of topics like the rubric requested you to do, you were only going to talk about the significant events that happened to the LGBT+ community starting with Stonewall and going to Obergefell v. Hodges. You were also going to go in depth about how even if there are more opportunities available and more laws set in place to protect for LGBT+ people in the present then there were in past, members of the LGBT+ community still suffer heavy discrimination in the workplace and in the public. With receipts of course, the assignment required a minimum of three pictures per slide, and the group chat was a perfect source.

After that was done, you would email Sammy’s teacher (you had her last year for US history and you knew that she had a son in the grade below you currently transitioning from female to male) that you were the one that did her project and send screenshots of Sammy calling you slurs. Luckily for you, you had receipts of her being transphobic in the past that you could also send. Everything was effortlessly falling into place for you today. 

As you were typing, the front door swung open and two overly excited fifth graders ran into the house and up the stairs. A tired Schlatt followed them. “I will never know how the hell Phil keeps up with them.” 

“I dunno, maybe because he’s already raised three kids before.”

You watched as your uncle jumped and whipped his head over towards you, his hand clutching his chest. He lightly glared at you, “christ kid don’t do that, you nearly gave me a heart attack.”

You smirked at him before turning back to your laptop to continue typing the essay. You were almost done with the conclusion paragraph on Annie’s essay and you wanted to get to Sammy’s presentation as fast as possible. As you were typing, you felt a warm air fan across your neck and your uncle’s voice right next to your ear, “whatcha typin?”

You lept off the couch and almost fell into the coffee table before steadying yourself and deadpanning at Schlatt. “I was typing an essay before you interrupted me.”

He snorted, “it looked like you were on a roll, just thought I’d see what my beloved niece was writing. Can I read it?” 

Your eyes lit up as an excited grin split your cheeks, “yeah, but lemme catch you up real quick. Adrian, Sammy, and Annie got mad at me a few days ago and wanted me to do some homework for them as a sort of payment. But after they pulled that little stunt in the lunchroom yesterday, they decided to be little bitches to me and call me slurs. So naturally, I decided to change the essay prompt into an in depth analysis about discrimination LGBT people face from their peers on the daily. My english teacher’s really against homophobia and the project’s worth twenty five percent of our overall grade, so it’s perfect.”

While you were rambling on and on about your detailed plot for revenge, Schlatt couldn’t help but be proud of the person you’d become. A major part of him was impressed that you came up with a detailed plan so quickly, that meant that his cunning nature was rubbing off on you and that made him ecstatic. Sure you mentioning not being straight was new to him, but he was prepared to accept you for whatever you identified as. He didn’t care how people identified, he just cared if they were good people. And his niece was one of the best kids he knew. He’d let your slip up slide for now until you felt comfortable enough to properly come out to him. 

“That an amazing plan, fuckin brilliant. Though, you could do more.”

That piqued your interest, “I’m listening.”

“Do you have any blackmail?”

Your eyes glinted with sudden understanding, “why yes I do, uncle dearest. I just so happen to have thousands of texts from them talking shit about each other and basically the entire school. And them being incredibly racist. They would be destroyed if that came out.” 

“Two things. One, never call me that again. Two, perfect. Keep it as leverage if they try to do something. You don’t pull out all the good cards in the first round, you wait for the right moment to strike so you can win. You need to constantly defend yourself against other players and anticipate their every move. If you leak everything right now, you won’t have anything to use against them if they have something up their sleeve you didn’t know about. Patience is key in things like this.”

You absorbed every single word that came out of his mouth like it was the holy gospel. Although he was your uncle and you loved him with all your heart, but he was a sly bastard when he wanted to be. He knew his way around fighting and manipulating people just right, so you were incredibly happy that you were on his good side and he absolutely adored you. Though questionable and morally gray, he was giving you advice because he cared about you and you’d be an idiot to not heed his advice. 

“That’s genius, Uncle Schlatt. What would I do without you?”

“You’d get along just fine without me, you would’ve gotten there eventually. You’re smart. I’m just givin you a little push in the right direction.”

“I honestly would’ve never thought about waiting, I was so dead set on getting revenge that I would’ve just leaked everything all at once. I want them to feel how I felt when they were around me. I-” you paused. Would this make you the same as them? You’d be screwing up all their grades, Adrian’s job, and Sammy’s athletic career. You came to the chilling realization that you’d be the same as them. You’d be as manipulative as they were. “...Uncle Schlatt, would that make me the same as them?”

“Fuck no! You’re always gonna be better than them no matter what. When they’re at their best, you’re always gonna be a whole lot better than them. They deserve what’s happening to them, it sounds like they put you through so much shit the past few years. I actually think you could do a whole lot worse to them if you’re willing to put more work in, but it’s your plan and if you think that what you’re doing is too much,” he darkly chuckled, “you wouldn’t like my idea.”

“You’re right, they deserve everything I have planned for them. God, I don’t know what I was thinking, ‘would that make me the same as them,’” you mocked what you said earlier, “what a load of shit. Anyways, thanks Uncle Schlatt. I’m gonna get back to writing this. They’re due tomorrow and I wanna finish as much as I can before I have to go.”

“Alright, whaddya want for dinner? Phil’s gonna be like thirty minutes late from work so I’m cookin tonight.”

Oh no. No, no, no, no. That man can barley cook boxed mac n cheese, let alone anything else. He’d burn down the house if you left him alone in the kitchen with the stove. “On second thought, why don’t I help you with dinner? We can make some chicken alfredo.”

“Awe, you’d rather hang out with me than finish your homework? Ya really do love me. C’mon let’s start.”

The process of making dinner was… interesting. Multiple times, Schlatt almost spilled boiling water on himself and he even managed to burn the pasta while it was in the water. How he even managed to do that you’d never find out, you had your back turned cutting up vegetables and herbs at the time. That was when you subtly started to take over in the kitchen, giving him smaller tasks while you handled everything else. You felt bad for Tubbo, his father can’t cook for shit. 

By time you finished, about an hour passed and Philza had come home and changed out of his work clothes. The two adults sat at the table discussing something that you didn’t pay attention to while your brothers and cousin were in the living room waiting for you to finish dinner. Finally, you set the table and it was time to eat. 

Because you couldn’t have many fatty foods before any matches or practices, you had made a separate plate for yourself that only had plain pasta, chicken, and broccoli. You were surprised with how well it turned out, you were following an iffy recipe you found on the first link Google brought up. 

After dinner, you went upstairs to put your uniform on and pack a little bag full of things you might need: a small blanket, some snacks, a water bottle, and a portable charger. Oh, and fuzzy socks and a pair of crocs. You could never go wrong with fuzzy socks and crocs. Feeling a vibration in your pocket, you pulled out your phone.

Hales : )

(Y/n), I’m omw to your house

Gonna give you a ride to the school

(Y/n)

Hales you don’t have to give me a ride, I can drive

Hales : )

Don’t care

Omw, be there in like 7 mins

You swiped out of yours and her conversation and opened up the family group chat

(Y/n)

I don’t need a ride to the school, Haley’s giving me one

She’s gonna give me a ride home too

Dadza

Alright, thank her for me

Tell her I said good luck too!

Uncle Schlatty Patty

Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do

Dadza

(Y/n), do everything he wouldn’t do

Uncle Schlatty Patty

Fuck you I’m a good influence

Dadza

You’re really not

Wilby

^^^^

Technology Sword

^

Uncle Schlatty Patty

Fuck all of you 

You heard Haley’s car pull into the driveway and dashed out of your room with your bag. Just as you put your hand on the doorknob, a hand stopped you.

“Coat.”

You grumbled as you reached past Philza to grab your coat. After you slipped it on, you were pulled into a hug. “You’re gonna do great out there. I know you’re gonna win this, we’ll be watching in the stands.”

“Damn right she’s gonna do good, she’s my niece after all.”

Schlatt pulled you away from your father’s hug and tried to ruffle your hair before you swatted away his hand, “don’t. You have no idea how long it took me to get a perfect ponytail. I have an ungodly amount of hairspray and bobby pins in my hair right now.”

“Fine. You’re gonna kick their asses tonight.”

Tommy and Tubbo pushed past Schlatt and both tackled you into a hug making you stumble slightly back. 

“Kick their asses good (y/n)!” Tommy cheered, making you crack up before one stern glance from Philza completely stopped you. “Tommy, don’t say that. (Y/n), not funny.”

“Alright, Haley’s waiting for me. I gotta go, love you guys!” As you turned to walk through the door, you could hear your family following you and shouting “good luck”. You felt heat creep up on your cheeks as Haley rolled down her window and wove at your family with the biggest grin on her face. 

“Thank you! We’re gonna take home the gold for sure!”

You hopped in her car as she rolled up the window and chuckled. “I love your family, they’re always so full of energy. It’s refreshing to see compared to how boring my family is.”

You glanced at your entire family gathered on the front porch. Tommy and Tubbo were practically vibrating with excitement, Wilbur and Techno calmly smiled and wove at you, Philza was grinning widely at you as you saw his mouth forming words that you couldn’t hear or read, and Schlatt was grinning cheekily at you. You raised your hand to wave at them as they vanished from view when Haley pulled out of your driveway. You smiled softly, “I love em too.”

The car ride was relatively quick with the same soft indie pop music floating from the speakers and an easy going conversation with Haley about the match tonight. You both thought that you could beat the other team if everyone focused 100% and played exactly like you guys did in practices. If everyone did that, you would be unstoppable. 

Luckily for you and Haley, you were the first ones in line to board the bus so you two got the back seat with Zara and Jazzy sitting across from you guys. The hour long bus ride passed quickly and lively with you four passing around your phone and playing some mad libs, you were sure that by the end of the last game you four were laughing and crying. Sometime in the middle of the trip, you noticed that Haley would start to lean on your shoulder and continuously glance at you as she laughed. You desperately wanted to believe that it was because she liked you, but she was straight and she was your best friend. She was probably trying to make sure you were having a good time. 

When the team had gotten to the opposing school and left the locker room to stretch in the gym, you could hear your family start to scream your and Haley’s names from the front row next to you, Tommy and Tubbo being the loudest amongst them with Philza trying to get them to quiet down so you could focus. You felt your cheeks heat up as you smiled at them and Haley wove enthusiastically back at them. Zara was laughing at you two. Stretching went by in a flash and before you knew it, you were on the court facing the opposing team. 

The first match was won by the opposing team by five points. The second match stretched on and on until it was won by your team narrowly by two points. The team was going to have to shape up in the third match if you guys wanted a chance at winning, the opposing team was good. Before the third match started, Coach Williams called for a time out so you guys could talk about strategy. Before Haley could go back onto the court, you pulled her aside.

“Hales, we need to do what we practiced. The other team won’t be expecting it at all, I’ve been setting you up this entire game. They’re never going to expect you setting me up for a spike.”

“When are we going to do it though? We need a better plan.”

“I’m sure the opportunity will come and both of us will recognize it. We just can’t do it too early in the game though, that’ll ruin their surprise.”

“(Y/n), I hope you know what you’re doing.”

“When do I not Hales? We gotta get gold this year.”

The third round went by with both teams constantly swapping places until you both were tied fifteen to fifteen. You saw the ball flying towards Haley, giving her the perfect opportunity to set you up for a spike.  “HALEY NOW!” 

You watched as her face hardened in determination as she pretended like she was going to spike it by jumping high in the air and stretching her arms back, making the opposing front row players all gather in front of her. Much to their surprise, she launched it towards you as you leaped up and went for the kill. The stinging of the ball hit by your wrist and the smack sound the ball made when it slammed onto the open gym floor was something you’d never forget as the crowd around you went wild over the unexpected play. You could hear the high pitched screaming of Tommy and Tubbo over everybody else. Glancing at them over your shoulder, you saw them jumping up and down on the gym floor and looking at you with awe filled eyes and gaping mouths. The rest of your family looked at you with similar expressions, their cheers echoing in your mind. Winking at them, you turned back to your team and went straight to Haley. Clapping a hand on her shoulder, you pulled her into a quick hug, yelling over the raving of the crowd. “HALEY WE NAILED THAT!” 

“HOLY SHIT I DID NOT THINK THAT WAS ACTUALLY GONNA WORK!”

“You have such little faith in your setter! You wound me Hales.”

“Well, I would have more faith in you if you weren’t chaotic on the court, sweetheart.”

You felt yourself surge in happiness at the nickname, but you couldn’t afford to focus too much on it. Your team only needed one more point to win best in the state and go to nationals. It would be the first time in your team’s history if you reached national level, and you’d be damned if you were the one to screw it up for them. 

The last rotation went on for a while, each team fighting tooth and nail for the state championship title with clashing determination. You tried your best to block every hit and try to set Haley up for a spike, and you were successful for the most part, only missing a few blocks. You saw the setter adjacent to you set the spiker up for a spike and jumped up in time to try to block it, your arms stretched upwards and your palms out. Only, the ball didn’t hit your hands. It collided painfully with your nose, ricocheted off your face with a thwack and sailed over to the other side of the court. Your head whipped back as your body followed suit and flew backwards onto the floor. Without giving you any time to react, your head bounced back and cracked against the polished hardwood floor of the gym. Everything went black. 

“...(y……”

“..(y/n)......”

“(Y/n).”

You faintly heard someone calling someone’s name over the continuous ringing noise. Was it your name? It felt right, so it had to be your name. You peeled your eyes open to see a blurry figure hovering over you. It was swirled with tans, browns, and backs. After a while of the figure repeating your name, it slowly became more recognizable, albeit appearing twice in your vision. It took you a while to figure out who this was before your muddled brain recognized Haley.

“Hales! There’s two o’ya. Twice as beautiful babe…” You slurred out as you attempted to smile at her.

“Oh thank god, PLEASE WE NEED A DOCTOR SHE HIT HER HEAD!” Her usually angelic voice gritted against your brain like sandpaper making you cringe as pain exploded in your head.

“God babe you’re so loud, why’s so bright? I-wha's goin on?” You blearily tried to move your head to look around only to be stopped by a pair of large hands on each side of your head gently holding it in place. You moved your laggy eyes around to look at the figure. He was a blonde man with blue eyes and a hint of stubble on his chin. His eyebrows were knitted together and he looked… he looked… your brain worked to figure out why he looked how he looked. Who was he?

“Please don’t move hun.” His muffled voice was baritone. You squinted at him trying to figure out who this man was.

“Who th f-fuck… why?”

“I’m your dad hun. Do-do you not recognize me?” You made a noise in the back of your throat as your stuffy brain finally put a name to the face.

“Dad- wha’s goin on? I’on feel so good…”

“Shh, I know, I know. Just stop moving and talking. Everything’s fine. I’m here. You’re okay.”

“Mmk… Dad, where are we? I’ont know- you’re so quiet.”

“Stop moving so much. You’re on the floor in a gym. You just won your team the state championship. Now stop talking please.”

Huh. So that’s why everybody seemed to appear from above you. You strained your eyes to look around you, but you could only see your dad’s face hovering above you. “Shit I- who’s aroun’ me? Where’s Hales?”

“I’m right here sweetheart. I got the doctor, Mr. Minecraft.”

Your dad’s face moved away from your vision so fast that it made your head spin and your stomach twist. Another face appeared above you that you once again didn’t recognize.

“I’m Doctor Martin, can you tell me your first and last name?”

“Uh, (y/n) Minecraft?”

“Good, what month are we in right now?”

“Nov-November?”

“Close, it’s late October. Can you tell me who this,” he pointed to your dad, “is?”

“S’my dad Phillip.”

“That’s your dad Philza.”

The questioning stopped as he suddenly shined a blinding light into your sensitive eyes. You hissed as you tried to move your head away from the offending light only to be held in place by your dad’s hands. Your head spun as you moved too quickly and a wave of nausea hit you, making you groan and move your arm to cover your eyes. Your hand was stopped by something warm and soft wrapping around it and holding it tightly. Everything was so overwhelmingly and painfully bright and loud. You wanted to make it stop. 

“Mr. Minecraft, your daughter appears to have a concussion. I don’t have the tools on hand to determine the severity of it, but it’s worrying that her pupils are asymmetrical, she’s delirious, and has slight memory loss. I understand you live about an hour away from here, and it’s alright for you to take her to a hospital closer to your house. Make sure you keep her alert.”

Your delirious mind only registered about half of what came out of the doctor’s mouth. You mumbled gibberish as you once again opened your eyes to look around. You were only briefly able to crane your neck to the left. Several figures large and small were standing behind your dad. Your family, your mind supplemented. Slowly, your mind was starting to recognize your surroundings even if there was currently double of everything and everything was blurry.

“I’m going to help you stand up. Do ya think you can do that?”

“Yeah Dad.” You lifted your upper body off from the ground with a gentle hand on your back helping you sit up. Fighting the wave of nausea that slapped you in the face, you reached up to rub at your eyes. A hand once again stopped you. You peeked your eyelids open and lightly glared at whomever stopped you. “Hales you’re lucky you’re so cute I woulda slapped you. I like holdin but you’re bein annoying. Stop.” You attempted to make your voice sound firm, but the words that came out of your mouth were slightly slurred.

She was silent as she helped her dad haul you to your feet. Once on your feet, you saw the room spin and felt yourself start to sway slightly. An arm wrapped itself around your shoulders and pulled you close to them so that your weight was supported. They were a little taller than you were making it easy to lean on them. 

“...Can you walk?” A deep, monotone voice rumbled the chest of the person you were leaning against. 

“Mhm. ‘M not weak.” Though your limbs felt like they were made of molasses, you placed one foot in front of the other slowly. The person moved alongside you, “you’re doing so good, keep going.” That sparked familiarity in you as you stopped in your tracks and tried to look up at the person you were leaning against making the person tighten their arm around your shoulders when you almost fell over.

“Tech?”

“Yeah, it’s Technoblade. Just focus on walking. You’re almost out of the gym.”

When you realized that you were out of the gym, you sighed in relief. It was so much quieter and darker. Though it was still relatively bright, it was better than the gym. 

“S’better.”

“When we get her to the car we can give her some sunglasses or something if it’s still too bright for her.”

“Wilbs-”

“Focus on walking.”

You huffed in irritation, “don’ tell me what to do bitch.”

You felt Techno’s body jolt slightly as he chuckled, making your head throb at the sudden movement. “Just walk.”

When you walked outside, you shivered as you felt the cool air nip at your exposed skin. Right, you were in your volleyball uniform. “I’ll go pull the car around, you guys stay with her.” 

You saw a tall brunet start to walk away from you. Uncle Splat? Uncle Schmat? Whatever his name was, you were sure he was your uncle. You tried to snuggle closer to Techno, craving warmth but never being satisfied. Where was your uncle? 

After a while, you saw a car moving towards you and blinding light pointed right at you making you cringe away and groan. Techno started to slowly walk towards the car. “C’mon (y/n), you’re almost there. When you’re in the car you can relax.”

“Tommy, Tubbo, and Techno, you’re in the back row. Schlatt can drive and Wil, you’re taking the passenger seat. I’ll stay with her in the middle row so she can have some room to lay down.” Tommy and Tubbo were with you? Why weren’t they talking, they usually were very vocal.

“Tom, Tubbs didja like the game?”

They didn’t say anything as they climbed into the car. Did they not hear you? 

“They’re just… tired (y/n).” Your dad’s voice reassured you as he took Techno’s place holding you up. 

“I wanna nap. ‘M so tired.”

“You can’t sleep yet. We gotta get you to a doctor first.”

“Mm. Makes sense.”

“Let’s get you in the car hun.”

As he helped you climb into the car, you felt an overwhelming wave of nausea wash over you making you lose your balance and almost faceplant into the cloth seats. You felt yourself being gently, yet urgently taken out of the car and led to grass as you felt your esophagus shorten. Something burning made its way up your throat and spewed into the grass. You felt someone rubbing your back as you puked up your dinner. 

When you were done, you reached up with a shaking hand to wipe your mouth. “You feelin better? Think you can get back into the car or do you need to sit down for a bit?”

“Car.”

After some difficulty, you were successfully in the middle row of the car laying down with your head on Philza’s lap. Soon enough, your shoes were taken off and a blanket was draped over you. 

“(Y/n), what do you remember?”

You scrunched up your face as you squinted at Philza’s face. “I remember playing volleyball with Hales. She’s so pretty, she’s straight though. I remember the other team hitting the ball, me jumping, then nothin. Wha’ happened?”

You watched as Philza winced, “well, you got everything right so far. You got hit in the face with the ball so you fell and hit your head on the floor. You were passed out for a minute before you woke up. It was a pretty nasty fall, we’re going to the hospital now. How’re ya feelin?”

“Head hurts, ‘m seein two of everything, an I can’t think.”

“Do you know what a concussion is?” You nodded in his lap slightly, “you probably have one.”

After a while of talking, you were slowly starting to come to your senses and your speech was clearing up, but your head was still too stuffy to think about what you were saying before you said it. You didn’t have a filter.

“Do you wanna tell us about your week so far? Do you remember most of it?”

“Mhm, it was shit. On Monday I had a panic attack and Adrian, Sammy, and Annie were being bitches to me all day. They fucked up my back. On Tuesday, they got mad at me for ditching them and they had me do their homework, had another panic attack, and Haley told me that someone took pictures of our boobs ‘n stuff and they were gonna leak it to the school if Haley didn’t stop hanging out with me. Haley and I almost kissed, but she’s straight. Pulled an all nighter and Wednesday I accidentally came out to Tech and Wil and had another panic attack. Annie, Adrian, and Sammy took more pictures of me through my window, Annie outed me to the entire school and slapped me. Another panic attack, skipped the last two classes and felt like shit the entire practice. Today Adrian and Sammy told me to kill myself and I had another panic attack. ’S about it.”

As you were going through your week, the hand that was previously gently stroking your hair had frozen as the car was enveloped in a tense silence. Luckily, Tommy and Tubbo were passed out in the back seat so they didn’t hear how bad your week was. Everyone awake knew that you had a few bad days this week, but they didn’t know the full extent of it. You watched as Philza’s expression had turned downright murderous, but you didn’t really care. You were busy talking about your week.

For the rest of the car ride, Philza asked you simple questions like what your favorite color was, your favorite animal, basically your favorite everything. Eventually, the car pulled into the hospital parking lot and Philza helped you get out of the car. “Schlatt, can you take the boys home so they can get some rest? I’ll stay with her.” 

“Yeah, I’m on it. Don’t cause too much trouble (y/n), we all know you can raise hell.” He watched you for a reaction, but when you didn’t react, he coughed. “Well, I’ll see ya later kid. Good luck.”

The car drove off leaving you and Philza at the front of the emergency room building. “It’s gonna be a long night (y/n).”

“I gotta finish Annie’s essay and Sammy’s presentation though.”

“No you don’t, I’ll email your teachers.”

You two checked in with the front desk before moving to sit on the uncomfortable chairs. It was going to be a long night. You were so tired.

General taglist (comment if you want to be added):

@jabby16

Series taglist (comment if you want to be added):

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[pricklycacti]

First Burn + Lucifer

WHERE ARE MY FELLOW HAMILTON FANS-

WHY IS NO ONE STILL DOING THIS-

WHY HAS NO ONE THOUGHT ABOUT THIS-

okay, so the idea is lucifer and mc are together and/or engaged, your choice. anyway, let’s say that mc drank some of that immortality juice solomon is drinking and chose to stay in the devildom.

wow, commitment! absolutely terrifying, but they got their man and his six annoyingly adorable brothers, who are also quite immortal- so it’s fine! now, lucifer is an old, senile dumb- you get it. diavolo is about to be crowned the king, like he should be. lucifer, being his right-hand man, is understandably busy with preparations and such.

first blunder. no time to spend with each other. of course, our sheep and savior mc understands! they bring him coffee and snacks throughout the day and reminding him to rest. what an angel.

lulu is the demon in-charge of preparing what the soon-to-be-king needs alongside barbatos. however, there is one noble demon or witch that they need to persuade to support diavolo as king since they hold many demons’ respect (demons who are against our bby uniting the three realms or something), whether that may be because of the witch’s pact with them or the demon’s title, is up to whoever decides to write this.

second blunder. this particular witch/demon likes lucifer. so sushifer goes to annoy the living shit coax (y’know, the thing- have you ever watched black butler?) them regarding sunshine prince’s coronation, since according to our resident time lord, they would revolt in the near future. of course, it would be better to just ‘off with their heads!’ but they haven’t done anything yet and it would be bad for diavolo’s rep since these demons are known for opposing him and unbreathing them would be bad timing.

i know that even though lucifer’s an old man with chicken wings, he wouldn’t cheat, okay? dude’s got insanely high standards and mc surpasses all of them! but this is regarding diavolo, the demon he serves and the demon who saved his little sister all those millennia ago.

third blunder. no one saw this happening. the demon/witch is basically with lucifer every time the brothers saw him along with mc. but lucifart is only letting them since the royals still need the demon/witch. so like all couples, they talk. to relieve this heavy feeling mc has. but lucifer admits sleeping with the demon/witch. he explains that he did this for diavolo. mc is just...

“I should’ve known...” A humorless laugh escapes their lips, “No, I knew that this relationship wasn’t your first priority- that I wasn’t your first priority!” 

They stomp over to him, grabbing his collar tightly. “Lucifer I tried... I tried to understand! For once, couldn’t you have tried for me? Couldn’t you have placed me first?” Their wails echoed throughout the House of Lamentation, without a doubt heard by his brothers. MC’s head falls on his shoulder, and he holds them as if he’s afraid to lose them- and he is.

“For the sake of this damn relationship, Lucifer...”

Lucifer faces their agony quietly. His heart twists at the sight of their tears, he once swore that he would never make them cry. He swore that he would cherish and value them more than the sun and the moon. He swore, encasing their hand in his and pressing his lips against theirs.

MC repeatedly hits his chest with weak blows, and Lucifer takes it. Just like how he took everything they had- their love, their home, and their mortality. Their trust, his mind supplies venomously. MC stops, realizing that they can’t hurt this man out of their pain or love. The two suffer through the heavy silence, fearful of what would happen next.

...and that’s where someone inputs what happens next, since i’m just here to give ideas. peace! (tag me if you actually write this weird idea lmao)

[coeurdastronaute]

Nerd 14

Previously on Nerd

There weren’t many things considered as decorations in the house on the corner of Inglewood Street. The old stone house, with its black shutters and manicured lawn hid behind a stately oak and the polished Porsche in the driveway, glowed as a beacon in the neighborhood, of perfection and wealthy modesty. Inside, it was less populated than one might expect, never fully lived-in, at least not to the casual observer. 

Clarke moved her way down the stairs as she balanced the bag on her shoulder, fully prepared for work and then studying with her girlfriend on a fairly boring Saturday night. For the first time in a long time, she looked at the sparse frames of pictures of her family. 

Unsure of what made her pause, she furrowed, pushing her eyebrows tightly together and leaning into the image of her mother and father on a random date when they were together in college. They were carefree and at some bar trivia night. Abby hugged Jake’s bicep and nearly hid in his shoulder as he leaned forward, other arm lifted to interject an answer. He was smiling wide despite his eagerness, the flash ricocheting off part of his large glasses. His hair was floppy and fully, swept to the side and neatly arranged, while Abby was brimming with life. Clarke loved the candid picture because sometimes she looked at it, and these were two people who had entire lives and experiences and she forgot that. They probably got butterflies like she did when Lexa smiled at her. They probably spent hours excitedly waiting to see the other. 

In that picture, her mother wasn’t the person she was now, though both seemed insanely far away from Clarke. This college-aged person was alive, vibrant, in-love, awake, eager, and not cheating on her husband. The body language alone showed how much she adored him. 

In that picture, her father was the funny, charming man she remembered, not the angry, frustrated man who was skin and bones, who couldn’t eat, who couldn’t swallow, who had difficulties moving most days and remembering his own daughter others. He was alive as well. He was the man everyone wanted to sit beside for some reason, for som inexplicable reason he had this… he had a spark that drew those to him like a moth to a flame, except he was that flame, and he shared his light eagerly with those around him. 

Clarke relaxed her face after a few moments of looking and seeing and trying to find some kind of detail in that picture that would indicate that the couple in it would know what their life would like like two decades later. There wasn’t a single indication, and that terrified her. 

“Did you finish you math?” her mother’s voice called from the hallway, hearing her daughter shift and move to look at the next picture without seeing her first. 

“Yes.” 

The next image was a very tiny Clarke on her father’s shoulders and her mother hugging his waist as they all stood beneath a redwood tree. They had hiking gear, shorts, sunglasses, hats and sunscreen. They were all smiling. They were a family. 

“Did you email me that draft of your personal essay for applications?” 

Clarke gave up perusing, no longer feeling the yearn for that family unit that was far away. She rolled her eyes and stomped her way down the steps to find her mother sorting through envelopes and mail. 

“No.” 

“Why not?” Abby didn’t look up as she flipped.

“Because I’m a junior, and I have five months before applications are due.”

“That’s no excuse not to be prepared. Maybe if you didn’t spend so much time chasing after some gir--”

“Who am I chasing after?” Clarke scoffed, crossing her arms and peering at her mother. “Do you mean helping Lexa on her submission for film school? Do you mean tennis practice? Do you mean working part time? Do you mean having a social life?” 

“Considerate that you can help someone else get into college.” 

“It’s going to take her months to edit, which I can’t-- I don’t have to explain myself to you.”

That did it. Clarke knew it would. Clarke new an overt expression of her own independence would trigger her mother. She knew arguing and not appearing to care about college would give her the satisfaction of a righteous fight. She wanted it. It’d been brewing for about a week and a half, ever since Clarke said she was going prom dress shopping without her. Ever since Clark forgot to tell her about spending the night camping with Lexa and the film crew while the powered through the project. Ever since Clarke didn't’ come home for dinner last Tuesday and then raved about Mrs. Woods’ garlic chicken. Tiny things Clarke did with spite because she didn’t know what else to do, because she couldn’t do anything else. 

Abby’s nostrils flared and Clarke jutted her hip, shrugging to herself as she dug for her phone, ready to go to work and escape the house and the persistent smell of medical equipment and cleaner that haunted her until she was about two blocks from the house. 

“I’ll be home around midnight.” 

“Like hell you will. You’ll be home right after your shift.” 

“No,” Clarke paused as she turned to leave. “I’m going over Lexa’s to study. We’re watching a Cary Grant movie.” 

“You’re under the misconception that you get to make your own schedule and plans without asking permission. But that is not the case, Clarke.” 

“I’ve been doing fine.” 

“You’ve barely been home. Your father is--”

“Right there, in that room, asleep. I know this because I spent the morning with him. We made pancakes and played a game of cribbage. We talked about school and Lexa and I showed him pictures of the past week of my life. And I helped him with his meds because he’s having a bit of a flare. I told him I’d see him in the morning for omelettes because we’ve been watching cooking shows together and he wants to try the french style. I know exactly what is going on with my father.” 

She hadn’t meant to, but her voice began to raise as she spoke. Clarke felt her fist shake. She felt her muscles tighten and her jaw clench. She was okay with being considered lazy and unmotivated, but to be accused of negligence was uncalled for, especially from someone like her mother. 

“Don’t you raise your voice! You are greatly mistaken as to the nature of our relationship. I am your mother, and I am sick of your attitude, and your priorities not being your father and your family or your education.” 

“Lexa has nothing to do with any of that. Are you just mad I’m dating a girl? Or that I don’t care what you think anymore?” 

Slightly taken aback by her daughter, by her words, by her actions, by her entire demeanor over the past few months and frankly just sick of dealing with being the bad guy. 

“I don’t even know who you are anymore,” Abby shook her head. 

“I could say the same thing.” 

The two stared at each other before Clarke shook her head and adjusted her bag. She toyed with her keys in her pockets before checking her phone again. 

“I’m going to be late for work. I’ll be back tonight.” 

“You’re not going anywhere,” Abby insisted again. “You’re grounded indefinitely.” 

“Except I’m not,” Clarke sighed and shook her head. “I’m not because I don’t care anymore. I genuinely don’t.”

“You’re going to. Give me your keys and your phone.” 

“No.” 

“I’m not joking, Clarke. You’re going to need to readjust your priorities and attitude.”

“I think you should take your own advice,” Clarke insisted as she reached the front door. “Or are you too busy fucking Kane to realize that there is no more family here?” 

With a satisfying slam, she yanked the door shut. The anger that was stationed in her shoulders dissipated with the noise and movement. Clarke stood there in the quiet of her perfect neighborhood, the flapping of the flag lazily moving in the spring breeze was all she heard at first. Then the birds came. Then a lawnmower started in the distance. 

Clarke felt lighter than she’d felt in a long time. She also felt emptier than any other time in her life. It was officially the end, and now she had to deal with that because the anger and the hurt and the betrayal was all she’d had in her for what felt like months. It hadn’t made anything better, and it certainly ruined everything, but Clarke took some solace in the fact that now she could try to fill herself up with something else. 

XXXXXXXXXX

The party at Bellamy Blake’s house was in full swing by the time Lexa made her way up the winding driveway and into the belly of the beast. She wasn’t sure how she ended up there exactly, except that her girlfriend texted and said to show up. That seemed to be enough of a reason, though Lexa wasn’t particularly prepared. They’d had plans. Quiet plans. Private plans. Movie plans. 

And now Lexa was going to her girlfriend’s ex’s party. 

She shoved her hands in her pockets as she moved through the crowd, clearly not getting the memo that jeans were not entirely good enough attire, and in fact she seemed to be extremely overdressed. Her eyes bugged slightly as she watched a girl from her physics class walk by in a very tiny, very teeny lime green bikini. Lexa became suddenly aware of the appeal of such things, as if she hadn’t noticed them before, but then MIchelle who sat diagonally in front of her third period looked like that and she gulped. 

The music thumped loudly. The beats were rattling the walls and shaking the windows while the screams and giggles of her classmates sought to shatter glass. It wasn’t like the other parties she’d been to with Clarke. It wasn’t even like thrones Anya dragged her to when she visited. This was a night of debauchery and she hadn’t had time to prepare. 

And as much as she saw everyone else wearing bikinis, she hadn’t thought about Clarke wearing one. She’d seen Clarke’s boobs before. That was nice. But there was something to her girlfriend in a bikini that was… good. Very good, even. 

Lexa pushed her glasses up slightly on her nose and stared. 

“What are you doing here?” Gus asked, approaching quietly. She didn’t move or say anything else, just stared from across the pool, the steam billowing upward to ward the sky while everyone seemed to glow blue and green and red, the lights alternating around them, the flames of the fire pits dancing to keep everyone warm. The warm glow of the lights inside were lost on the white-blue shade to the water. 

“Lexa, focus,” he snapped his fingers in front of her face. “What are you doing here? Your sister would kill me if she knew you were at a Blake party.” 

“How is it different than any other party?” 

“It just is.” 

“Because of the pool? I’ve been to pool parties.” 

It hadn’t been since seventh grade and didn’t look like an episode of a CW show, but still, she’d been to a pool party with many of the same cast of characters that were currently on display. It was before puberty, but still. 

“We need to get you home.” 

“Clarke invited me.” 

“It doesn’t matter. This isn’t your scene.” 

“I can be in any scene. I’ve watched every John Hughes movie.”

“This is more of an episode of Euphoria than an 80s teen flick,” Gus sighed and took another swig from his cup. “And I fully believe you would fit in fine with Molly Ringwald.”

“That’s very kind of you to say,” Lexa nodded. “I’ll be fine.” 

She took her eyes off of her girlfriend long enough to assure her friend that she was perfectly fine now. She was dating the head cheerleader. She’d been to parties and seen--

“Gus-- is that cocaine?” 

“Okay, yeah, we have to get you out of here,” he shook his head and tossed his empty cup into a flowerbed. 

“Is it really?” she asked, craning her neck as he pushed her forward. “I’ve never see that in real life before. People actually do that thing with the credit cards and dollar bills? Astounding. Where does one get cocaine?” 

“You don’t need to know that.” 

“I’m not going to do it. I’m just curious.” 

They only made it a few steps before the ran into a sopping body. A tall, muscular, tan, perfectly chiseled and dripping body. It was the body of an actual god. It was the body of the perfect specimen, with biceps and the long swimmer cuts that pointed firmly toward his… his-ness. 

“Gus, long time, man. How you been?” Bellamy Blake grinned before slipping his cup in his teeth as he hugged the other football player. 

“Not too bad. Heard you’re heading to Oregon in the fall?” 

“Yeah, partial scholarship. We’ll see what happens,” he shrugged. “Staying close?” 

“Yeah, St. Johns, about three hours away.” 

“Full ride?” 

“Yeah. I got offered half to OSU, but would rather not have to pay anything.” 

“No, that’s smart.” 

The whole time they spoke, Lexa watched Clarke’s ex intently. She frowned to herself and wondered how her girlfriend broke up with him. He was effortlessly cool. He was huge. He looked like he knew how to go down on a girl, and Lexa was still apprehensive. She wished she could fast forward in life until she was really good at sex. 

She watched him grin and sip from his red cup, meeting her eyes curiously as Gus explained something about his college recruitment process. 

“I don’t think we’ve ever met before. I’m Bellamy.” 

He held out his hand. And though she didn’t want to do it, she sighed and shook his hand. 

“Sorry, I should have introduced you. This is Lexa.” 

“Lexa… Lexa…” He mulled. 

“Anya Woods’ sister.” 

“Wow, you’re Anya’s little sister?” 

“Yeah.” 

“How is she? I forgot she had a little sister. I remember her little brother died-- oh shit.” 

“Yeah.” 

“We were just heading out,” Gus interrupted. 

“I was actually just going to go talk to Clarke.” 

“Why would you--”

Before anything else could be said, before anything else could transpire between the two of them, before Gus had to interrupt again, Clarke appeared, launching herself into her girlfriend’s arms, wrapping her own around her neck, her body still slightly damp from the pool she must have just climbed out of during the awkward introduction. 

“You’re here. I’m so happy,” Clarke hummed against Lexa’s warm neck. She buried herself there, suffocating herself happily, slightly tipsy. 

“I told you I’d stop by.” 

Clarke kissed her girlfriend’s neck. She leaned most of her body against her there and giggled, oblivious to the eyes, too drunk to care about anything else happening. 

“I am have the worst day. Maybe the worst week. Maybe the worst year ever. No, wait. Definitely the worst year, and today I finally told my mom everything and then left. So Yeah. It’s been terrible. I got drunk.” 

“Not the healthiest coping mechanism.”

“Not a bit,” Clarke grinned, agreeing eagerly and with a wide grin. She leaned forward and kissed her girlfriend despite her words. 

“You can be healthy tomorrow,” Lexa offered. “You okay?” 

“As okay as can be.” 

There was some throat clearing that happened behind them, and Lexa felt a burning in her ears and chest at the display, unaccustomed to it all. 

“So this is your new girlfriend?” Bellamy asked, looking at the pair. 

“Lex, I suppose you’ve met my ex,” Clarke gestured. 

“Kind of.” 

“Is this party a little much?”

“If I remember correctly, this was exactly the kind of thing you liked. We went to many a party in our tenure,” Bellamy shrugged, lazily leaning against a counter. “Things changed since I left, I guess.” 

“I enjoyed not thinking,” Clarke offered. “You were great for that.” 

Gus and Lexa looked between the two and then at each other. She was almost certain she didn’t know what was happening, but that certainly, something was, and she wasn’t sure how she felt about it. 

“You moved on quick, huh?” 

“Hey, step back,” Gus interrupted as Bellamy took a single step. “This is Anya’s sister.” 

“Woods?” he furrowed. “You’re dating Anya Woods’ kid sister?” 

“Yup,” Clarke nodded. 

“I heard she was--”

“Standing right here,” Gus finished. 

Lexa felt Clarke’s hand move into her own and she smiled despite the fact that she was picking up a drunk girl at her college guy ex’s party. There was a lot in that sentence she wasn’t happy about, now that she thought about it. 

“You ready to get out of here?” Lexa asked innocently, ignoring the rest. 

“I think we still have a few more shots lined up, Clarke,” Bellamy smiled and Lexa understood the need to punch. 

Noticeably torn, she looked at her girlfriend and back at her ex before realizing that she was actually drunk, and that wasn’t good. Lexa smiled softly and rubbed her girlfriend’s back. She kind of imagined how it must have felt to implode and take her mother down with her. Lexa remembered the feeling of telling her father she was gay and sad. Clarke’s implosion didn’t seem as successful as her own, and Lexa was more than happy to try to help in whatever way she could. 

“Can I stay at your place tonight?” 

“Yeah,” Lexa nodded quickly. “I’ll text my mom to let her know.” 

“You’re seriously leaving?” The college football player and terrible ex scoffed. “The night is still young. It’s barely after eleven.” 

“Thanks for getting me drunk, but I should probably go do something better.” 

“Thanks for showing me around,” Lexa offered nodding her head slightly toward the host before he could argue. “Have a good night. I’ll see you on Monday, Gus.”

“Get home safe,” the linebacker warned. 

Slightly dumbfounded, Bellamy Blake stood there, hands on his hips as he watched his ex weave through the crowd of people and disappear. As much s everything stayed the same, he couldn’t shake the sinking feeling of change, and how averse he was to it. 

XXXXXXXXXX

“Here, you can, uh,” Lexa quickly moved through her bedroom, leaving her girlfriend standing by the bed. “I have some old sweats if you want.” 

Already, Clarke began taking off her pants, and Lexa quickly looked in the drawers of her dresser. She felt the tips of her ears burn slightly as she looked over her shoulder, her girlfriend slumping into the bed, pants lost to the floor. 

“I knew I shouldn’t have gone to that party. I knew it,” Clarke sighed, rubbing her face with both hands to ride herself of the spinning. “But I didn’t care. I just wanted to… you know…”

“You had it out with your mom. You just anted to go far away. I get it.” 

“Don’t be nice to me. I knew better than to go, especially to anything involving Bellamy Blake.” 

“Why?” 

“He doesn’t care about any of it. Just has drinks. I should have called you or like done something else.” 

“You’re allowed to want to take a night off from a giant secret after a huge fight. And you don’t need my permission,” Lexa reminded her girlfriend, offering an old shirt. 

“It was stupid.” 

“Do you feel better?” 

Gingerly, Lexa tugged at Clarke’s shirt, pulling it over her head until she flopped back down on the bed, her hair fanning out against the pillow. Agitated at herself, at her clothe, at the unfathomable uncontrollability to the entirety of her life, Clarke growled to herself as she tugged off her bra, tossing it to the side and gracelessly pulling on the shirt Lexa offered. 

“I don’t feel better at all.” 

It was certainly a pout, and Lexa did her best to ignore it. Instead, she slicked off the light beside the bed, and slid between the sheets next to Clarke. Lexa laid there until Clarke turned to face her, until she placed her hand on her neck and cheek. 

“I’m sorry you had to pick me up.” 

“It’s okay,” Lexa whispered. 

“It’s not. I’m not like this… I don’t mean to be… I mean--”

“It’s okay.” 

Clarke leaned forward, shifting beneath the blankets until their knees were touching. She moved to only push the hair from Lexa’s forehead and she paused before kissing her lips. She tasted the warmth of the tequila there and she didn’t care. Lexa signed. 

“Please don’t give up on me anytime soon,” Clarke murmured. Stunned from the kiss, Lexa blinked in the dark and shifted closer. 

“I wouldn’t ever.” 

“I know you wouldn’t. I just had to say it out loud.” 

“Okay.” 

Lexa was certain she was going to get another kiss, but instead, Clarke dug her forehead under her girlfriend’s chin and pressed their bodies together, hugging her tightly and disappearing, being overwhelmed, anchoring herself to a steady force. Lexa rubbed Clarke’s back for a few moments until she fell asleep, and then she allowed herself the option of sleep.

NEXT

[cloudy-leonhart]

AOT veterans with a Filipino S/O!!

[author note: did I write this as soon as I posted the first part?? yes. I like writing for this, it’s so fun lolol up next, Marleyan Warriors!!]

Summary: not much, just the AOT vets with their filipino S/O.

Gender Neutral Reader.

Recommended Song: Buwan - Juan Karlos.

Theme: Fluff, Modern AU.

TW: Swearing.

Characters: Hange, Levi, Miche, Erwin, Moblit, Nanaba.

Hange Zöe

Honestly they fully immersed themselves in your culture, as you know Hange LOVES learning about new things, discovering about your culture, they probably forced you to go the Philippines with them.

They started asking people for directions in english?? You had to step in translate for them, in which they responded to ask to teach them the language.

Yes they keep a small notebook of words they think are interesting. Yes even swear words are in there, not to mention they absolutely just butcher the way you say it.

One time when you both came back, Hange told Erwin that Bakla was a word for a good man, and they laughed their asses off watching Erwin tell people he was Bakla LMFAO.

They actually visited your province, they met your family and was surprised at the fact that they owned a whole farm, they tried to learn with your siblings on how to harvest rice, they nailed it btw.

they named your carabao, Sawney, and your chicken, Bean.

And respectfully so, your family started to call their animals by the name Hange gave them.

They started to cry about the fact that you guys had to go back, and like every time, your mom and dad encouraged y’all to bring filipino snacks back home, in which you did, because you knew that you’d probably miss it when you flew back home.

You guys have a tradition of going to the Philippines for your guys’ anniversary.

THEY SUPRISINGLY LISTENS TO FILIPINO MUSIC

They were the one to suggest Aegis to Levi but they prefer someone like Jireh Lim.

Favourite song is probably, Buko. They love the guitar in it.

Levi Ackerman

He first found out you were Filipino when he caught you packing a balikbayan box for your family back home, (for those who don’t know, balikbayan box is a box full of your country’s snacks to send back to the PH for your family to try.)

He had asked you what it was, and you answered that it was for your family back in the Philippines, in which he responded with helping you, and mainly scolding you about the way you packed it.

“Idiot, pack it like this, so you have more space to place stuff.”

When he first went to the Philippines, he first noticed the cleanliness of the hotels, he looked at you with a ‘is this why you’re so good at cleaning?’ look. 

God when I say your parents loved him, YOUR PARENTS ABSOLUTELY ADORED HIM. He would clean for your mom, and not only that, your mom approved of his cleaning technique, yes she told you to marry him that second.

And that you did, you had your first wedding with you family in the Philippines, and another in where you guys currently lived.

Bye, he absolutely looks AMAZING in a Barong. Your dad helped him slick his hair back.

Your mom and him, bonded of cleaning, sometimes when your mom needs help removing rust on her pans, she calls Levi.

like Hange he and you go to the Philippines for y’alls anniversary. 

Please save this man from the streets, I’m not saying it to be mean but this man almost gave his wallet to a bunch of kids who were hungry.

You gave money instead because you didn’t want your man to be broke lmfao.

He loves seeing you so happy while you’re in the Philippines, he just thinks it’s adorable when you speak your language.

Aegis listener, absolutely no discussion, mans listens to them while cleaning, he listens to “Sayang Na Sayang” religiously.

when Aegis plays in the house, you know it’s a cleaning day lmao.

Erwin Smith

Please, remember when I said Hange told him bakla was a word for a good man, yes, that’s how he found out you were Filipino, you literally was so dumbfounded, you waited for him in the living room, your friend’s laughing over the phone, man thought he did something wrong until..

“Erwin, can you tell me why you’ve been telling your friends you’re fucking gay??”

Yeah he’s got trust issues now. But he wasn’t that shocked to find out you were filipino, he just thinks it’s neat, he butchers pronouncing shit, he tries to learn filipino jokes??? It’s really bad, like you need to stop him from telling your family to save HIM from embarrassment.

He knows how to cook barbecue lmfao, he sits at your family’s barbecue spot and cooks for them, your dad appreciates the help so much lmao, also he loves drinking the gulaman whenever he’s there, your dad gives it to him for free because, he basically considers Erwin his son now. His awkward, barbecue-cooking, son.

You guys go on hiking in Mt. Butalao, yes you sneak peeks when he’s climbing because his muscles flex, and he sweats. You guys go on a double hiking date with Miche and his S/O all the time.

He was kind of fearful when you went to a province to get in touch with your grandparents, he watched you help their carabao back into their pens, he’s scared of carabaos, don’t blame him-

Surprisingly he’s as good as your dad in basketball, bye I just know the women of your community comes to watch him, he’s ripped, you’re jealous but you don’t say it lmao.

He’s got those jeep keychains lmfao, the fact that he kinda looked like a lost puppy when you’re traveling, like so many people, so little space-

please educate him, he’s confused on everything-

he probably listens to Eraserheads, Huwag Mo Nang Itanong. Yes his ultimate song. 

Miche Zacharias

probably the only veteran that knows what to do?? Beside Moblit?? He knows how to bless, he knows to call your parents nanay and tatay. He also loves going to where there’s a lot of Filipino street food because he loves the smell, he prefers the smell of bananaque over anything, hotcakes are a close second.

mf was scared when your mom suddenly said, “Oh yeah, I kept your childhood spider.”

YOU OWNED A MF SPIDER?? You were all like ‘omg i miss him’ he was a little scared bitch omg.

You had to explain that you would buy them from the local toy store and you and your friends would make them fight each other to the death.

HE THOUGHT IT WAS GONNA BE SMALL- IT’S A WHOLE MF TARANTULA BYE

you know those dyed chicks you get from winning a game, yeah, he was attached to one you guys won, but as always, they weren’t going to live long, I think he sulked for a whole 2 days. He named the chick Richard AHAHA.

ah yes, absolute unit in basketball, yes you and Erwin’s S/O would watch them play basketball together with your guys’ dads. Yes y’all gossiped about how hot they were in tagalog.

Just saying, Miche got some that night. 

He doesn’t fit in tricycles- neither does he fit in jeepneys lmfao- he kinda has to sit on the ground if you force him to fit, in which he has to awkwardly crawl to get out lmfao.

He literally looks godly while hiking, you guys don’t go to your parents’ house when you first arrive, you guys hike.

You guys go whenever y’all feel like it honestly.

“hey hey, reader, Mahal Kita.”

He listens to anything in filipino honestly, he likes chill filipino songs like Tell Me Where It Hurts by MYMP.

Moblit Berner

He’s a researcher, he makes sure he doesn’t disrespect the culture.

he knows to bless and all that jazz like Miche.

Wait but your family loved him as soon as you told them he was a doctor lmfao?? He’s in nursing.

He’s basically already apart of the family, all your little siblings call him kuya Moblit, he absolutely thinks it’s adorable.

when you guys are sending a balikbayan box, he places toys he bought for your little siblings in the box, with a note written and translated by you for them.

Moblit also knows about poverty in the Philippines, he’s apart of an organization where they give to those who can’t afford real food, even when he’s back home with you, he donates from abroad, everyone knows him as the generous kuya.

honestly I can see him as someone who’s also known by your community, people call him kuya Moblit or tito Moblit, it’s very wholesome when a kid asks him to carry them.

This man looks so nice and kind on the outside but when you guys are at your tita’s bday party and there’s a whole mf buffet, he’s a whole beast.

You know when your uncles have like, food stacked on their plate, and like a cup of buko pandan at the side?? yes, him. definitely.

He’s kinda like sasha in this au, he loves the food so much, he probably finished a filipino dish by himself (it’s the palabok)

he’s also a god at making ice candy?? like he’s so good at filling up the plastic with the liquid lmao.

you guys adopted a stray dog in the community and his name was Moblit, your family takes care of him while you guys are back home.

genuinely, it’s mostly wholesome with him, he doesn’t really do anything wrong besides butchering pronounciation.

Moblit probably watches boxing with your dad though, it’s just too accurate not to be true.

More of a movie watcher than a song listener, his favourite movie so far is Four Sisters and A Wedding.

he cries every filipino movie, them do it to you.

Seven Sundays, he cried for days straight.

Nanaba

Nanaba found a filipino flag from your collage years in a box, asked you about it, then encouraged you to visit the Philippines because she wanted to meet your family. 

Okay but your family thought she was a guy because of her hair?? 

your siblings can’t say Nanaba, so they call her Ate Nana.

She was kind of jealous of your bond with your family, she knows she shouldn’t be, but she couldn’t help it since her and her father’s relationship absolutely sucked.

And you know this, you had talked with her about it too, it was kinda like a, “are you okay?” and “it’s nothing.”

You had to drag her out to family events, eventually, she started to feel like she was apart of the family, she went swimming with the fam, did karaoke nights, she was basically in the family now.

She felt really happy that you decided to help her educate herself in your culture, and that your family openly accepted her into your family.

when you and her married, she wore a baro’t saya for the wedding reception and she looked absolutely gorgeous in them. She took your last name.

Your mom taught her to do the tinikling dance, and she mastered it easily, you of course danced with her.

she kinda had a guilty pleasure of going to McDonalds in the Philippines, SOLELY FOR THE ROOT BEER FLOAT, that stuff be bussin.

she forces you to go to McD’s whenever’s there’s a new flavour released.

Nanaba loves going on the jeepney, she likes the fact that you ring a bell when you have to get off and she does it every time you guys use a jeep for transportation.

Nanaba knows one word in filipino and that’s Mahal, she uses it so weirdly though, but she’s adorable so you let it pass.

“Reader..erm, I mahal?? you?..” 

she’s both a listener and a movie watcher, she listens to more modern filipino singers, like Patch Quiwa.

Favourite movie is when Vice Ganda’s in it, she just thinks all his movies are funny.

[mctherofdragons]

A Sanctuary Heart | 2 | SR

summary / after her abusive husband lands her in the intensive care unit, y/n changes her identity and moves as far away as possible. upon starting her new life, she meets dr.spencer reid and his son, maddox, when she begins her job as a teacher. but can she keep herself safe and keep up the facade with spencer? can she be safe at all?

pairing / spencer reid x fem!reader

warnings / slowburn romance, fluff, angst, marriage, trauma, domestic violence/abuse, dad!spencer, wheelchair use, paralysis, injury, ptsd flashbacks, food, alcohol, vomit mention, cussing, y/n’s husband is a cop.

important links / series masterlist + domestic violence resources

authors note / i am so sorry this chapter took me so long! I had an insanely busy week at work, and was exhausted when i get home (typical). fair warning there are some sad moments in this chapter but also some slowburn romance beginning with spencer and the reader which i just adore <3 enjoy! *if you are requesting to join the taglist, please use the link in my nav!* Ps: if anyone has any suggestions for y/n’s husband’s name, please send them my way.  Flashbacks are in italics!

You stood in the doorway of the Reid residence, balancing a casserole dish in your hands. You knocked gently, waiting nervously for the door to open. Eventually, Spencer came to the door. He warmly invited you in and took the hot dish from your hands.

“Didn’t get lost, did you?”

“All the houses in the development look the same,” you noted with a chuckle. You heard the whir of Maddox’s electric wheelchair which caused you to turn around.

“Ms. Porter!,” Maddox’s features gleamed at the sight of you. “Did you bring us dessert?! Like you promised?”

“I sure did, buddy. It’s my famous s’mores casserole.”

“S’mores! I really like s’mores. Me and Daddy made smores once! Remember, Daddy?”

Spencer smiled and knelt down, busying himself with fixing a small cloth on Maddox’s shirt so he wouldn’t get dirty during dinner. You felt butterflies burst to life in your tummy watching the handsome agent interact with his son.

“I sure do, big guy. We went camping that weekend with Mommy. I’m surprised you remember that.”

Spencer’s voice seemed to crack, but you assumed it was caused by allergies or perhaps a common cold on its way. You assumed that Mrs. Reid, whoever she was, was probably an ex-wife now.

“We went swimming, ‘member?”

“C’mon, bud, into the dining room before the food gets cold.”

Maddox frowned at the change of subject but did not hesitate to make his way into the dining room. He placed himself in front of his plate and Spencer sat next to him, busying himself with placing food on Maddox’s plate first.

“Tacos are my favorite,” Maddox explained, watching eagerly as Spencer broke up a shell onto his plate. “But I like it like a salad.”

“Me, too.”

You grinned as you broke your taco shell up, topping it with lettuce and a bit of chicken.

“I choose to eat my tacos like a normal person, you two,” Spencer laughed as he rolled up the tortilla on his plate. “You know, the taco was first introduced to the United States in 1905. Mexican migrants were coming in to work on railroads and other jobs and started to bring their food with them. Tacos were essentially street food at this time since they were highly portable and cheap.”

You let out a combination of a giggle and a snort, taking a sip of the water in front of you. “I see where Maddox gets it from.”

The three of you got to eating and talking, and you tried your best to not watch Spencer feeding Maddox. It wasn’t that that you thought negatively - no, it was quite the opposite. You simply couldn’t fathom a man being so gentle and kind; so in love with being a father.

________________

One Year Earlier. 

“I’m s-sorry.”

He stooped down to where you sat now, back pressed against the kitchen wall.

“I’ve told you a million fucking times -- I don’t want a kid.”

“I know, baby, I’m sorry.”

For good measure, he kicked the wall beside you, causing you to jump. You look away, fixing your eyes somewhere far off.

“I’m going out.”

“I...it’s Saturday. Can’t you stay?”

“No, I can’t stay.”

He enunciated the last word, mocking the way you had sounded so desperate in your asking. You watched with a sense of both pain and relief as he walked out, surely headed off to the bar or to spend time with his work friends. It was a rare occassion that he was home on the weekends, but you felt foolish for thinking he would spend his free time with you.

Once he was gone, you managed to get up off the floor and stumble into the bathroom. You stood with both hands on the porcelean sink, staring at your reflection in the mirror. You brought your manicured hand up to touch the healing bruise on beneath your eye, followed closely by your split lip which had began to scab over.

The isolation was almost more painful than the physical injuries themselves. You felt yourself drifting in an abyss of silence. You had no cell phone of your own. You hadn’t spend a holiday with your family in over two years. The only time you were able to interact with others was when he was with you. You were drowning beneath the waves of your marriage - but you didn’t know if there was a way out.

“No one will believe you. I’m one of the most respected men on the force.”

You had fed into his favorite protective coercion: that no one would believe a housewife with nothing to her name over a medal-endowed, brave, and valiant police officer.

_______________________________

After dinner, you helped Spencer clean up while Maddox sat watching a movie on his tablet. As Spencer took to washing, you offered to dry. Maddox had a large set of headphones on his ears which made it easier for you and Spencer to be a bit more candid.

“So, what brings you to the city?,” Spencer asked, handing you one of the white glass dishes you had used for supper.

“Work,” you said quickly, feeling the dish heavy in your hands.

“I have heard there was a shortage of teaching jobs in other counties. I’m glad you came here. You seem to accept Maddox for who he is. A lot of his past teachers have assumed he had learning concerns. But, you recognize his disability is merely physical.”

Your face brightened as you looked at Spencer from the side, watching as his brown curls hung in his face as he scrubbed. Then, you looked behind your shoulder, watching as Maddox stared intently at the screen in front of him.

“He is incredibly bright. He knows so much for his age. I’m really impressed by him, Spencer.”

“Thanks! Well...he definitely got it from me. He used to come running into the bedroom and curl up at my side when I read, and so I began to read to him when he was just small. It was always a variety of books, too. Literature, science, politics..anything that peaked my fancy, really.”

Your heart skipped a beat when you realized that description meant that Maddox had, at one point, not been in his present condition. As you opened your mouth to ask a question, Maddox looked up from Finding Nemo.

“Daddy, I’m tired.”

Spencer dried his hands and turned around. “Okay, let me finish the dishes and then we’ll have your bath, okay?”

“I can finish these,” you offered. “That way Maddox can get to bed on time.”

“You don’t have to do that, Ivy, it’s okay.”

“No, no. I want to,” you smiled, giving Spencer a playful scoot as you positioned yourself in front of the sink.

“You’re a saint,” Spencer smiled, tossing the dish towel onto his shoulder. “Alright, c’mon buddy, upstairs.”

___________________________

About thirty minutes later, you heard Spencer coming down the stairs. You had already finished doing the dishes, and you had taken to cleaning the rest of the kitchen. Perhaps part of it was innate to you - that this is what women did. It had been drilled into your head by your husband, and it just felt natural right now.

You noted that Spencer’s lilac button up was splattered with water.

“Oh no,” You came over quickly, taking a paper towel and blotting it to no avail. Spencer felt his heart begin to hammer. He hadn’t had a woman this close to him since….her.

He looked down with a chuckle. “I slipped. I have to hook my arms under him to pull him out of the bath and well...I guess I was a bit clumsy.”

“Well,” you tutted your tongue. “At least it’s just water.”

You looked up and Spencer’s eyes caught to yours. It felt like minutes passed as you looked into his eyes. It was then that you realized his hand had wrapped itself around the one pressed his chest. You moved back quickly, feeling your face blush into a bright, ruby red.

Spencer cleared his throat. “Say...Ivy? I have a bottle of cabernet I’ve been holding onto...and, if my calculations serve me correctly, I can show you Orion’s Belt.”

You chewed your lips before speaking softly. “I’d like that.”

Spencer walked over to the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of wine. Then, he grabbed two glasses from the cabinet, balancing all three in his right hand. “Come on, out onto the patio.”

You followed Spencer out onto the cobblestone patio just outside the sliding glass door of the dining room. You pulled your cardigan closer around you as Spencer sat across from you. He poured a bit of wine into each of your glasses, glancing up at you.

“This wasn’t a weird ask, was it?”

He sounded nervous, bringing his hands together and touching the fingers on his opposite hand. You shook your head as you grabbed your glass, taking a small sip. The wine tasted expensive.

“This is delicious,” you remarked, watching Spencer swirl his around in his glass. Spencer looked up at the skiy, using his hand to gesture.

“Do you like the stars?”

You nodded, remembering when you’d stand on your own back porch, crying. You’d remind yourself that you and your family - who were now estranged - were under that same night sky.

“I love them. I’ve always loved looking up at them. It makes the universe seem so much smaller, you know? It reminds me that we are all so much closer than we realize.”

Spencer looked at you, as you were still looking up. You couldn’t seem him staring, but he felt his own cheeks burning crimson. “I know exactly what you mean.”

You took another drink of your wine, noting its cherry and grape notes that twinkled across your tongue. “You work for the FBI?”

“Yes, in the Behavioral Analysis Unit. We analyze behavior to catch criminals. Usually serial killers, but it really depends on the crime.”

“Huh,” you said, thinking to yourself that it was the most interesting thing in the world. “That’s really interesting.”

When Spencer moved, you realized he had a gun on his hip. You hadn’t noticed it before. Your heart began to hammer quickly. A flashback dashed its way across your mind.

You had been pressed against the bathroom door, a gun placed against your temple. ‘You don’t ever fucking threaten to leave me.’

“I have to go,” you said quickly, placing your wine glass down.

“What? Ivy, did I say something?”

Your legs felt like they might fall out from under your as you grabbed your bag, hands shaking as you searched for your keys.

“No, no I have to go.”

“O-okay...Well, can I walk you out?”

As you moved, you knocked the wine glass to the ground, causing it to shatter.

You froze, flinching as Spencer stood up quickly. Only he wasn’t coming toward you, but rather gently kneeling to protect you from stepping on the glass. You felt physically ill, like you might vomit right there.

“Spencer, I’m sorry,” you dropped to your knees, gathering the glass with your bare hands. Spencer gasped as the glass cut into your skin. “I’m s-sorry, I know how expensive this must have been and you were so kind to have me over and…”

You were a babbling mess, trying your hardest to clean up the mess you had made. A broken glass, wasted wine, and a lack of haste in cleaning would have resulted in a slap or punch for you before.

Spencer watched you with an open mouth, perplexed.

“Ivy...look at me. Ivy…”

___________________________ series/criminal minds taglist: @hufflepuffhaze @omghufflepuff @txtdreamss @rainbows-dreams @bvttercupbby @k-k0129 @rexit-mo @britishspidey @graciehams @manuosorioh @shemarmooresfedora  @big-galaxy-chaos @thatoneszesty13   @ssavanessa22 @awritingtree @sweetandsunny​ 

[tomtenadia]

Fire in her veins - a Island Dreams AU oneshot

So, yesterday Island Dream reached the amazing milestone of 5k hits on AO3. For me, it means the world especially because ID has a special place in my heart. It was my first long Rowaelin, set in a place that I adore. It’s more than just a story. It’s set in a part of Scotland that has completely stolen my heart.

So, to celebrate I asked for prompts and @whimsicallyreading​ gave me a brilliant one.

“Aelin accidentally distracts Rowan and their stove catches on fire 🥰 would be funny to see the ID crew interact with a Fire Department 🤣”

inspiration hit in an instant. This fic is set about three years after the epilogue. The twins are 7 and Dalamar is 4. The  story has a very Freyja-centred ending, mostly because she is my favourite. She is wild and fierce like her mother and she is funny.  (Don’t get me wrong I adore Morrigan and Dalamar too. They are calmer and adorable in their own way.)

If you are new to Island Dream you can find it HERE

Well, without much further ado I will leave you to the story.

Rowan had a busy day at work. The bookshop had become very popular in town and business was good especially since Aelin had convinced him a while before to set up an internet page and an online ordering system. It had taken a while to really kick in but now he was basically serving the whole of the Hebrides and he had started getting orders as well from some remote location on the western highlands. Aelin had been right. She was the one who had started his Facebook page after all. He hated the whole thing - he had even deleted the profile he had created for fun, but he could not deny that it was handy for business. He had started promoting his events, he had hosted some indie authors and also had started a reading club at the weekend. He was proud of the job he had done. And now, with his aunt he was working on another stage. Her cafe had been shut for a few months after the last bad storm and flooding had caused some heavy damage. So when the bill for repairs had come Maeve knew it was too much and had decided to close to the dismay of the locals who loved her cakes and food. But Rowan had come up with a plan. The unit next to his shop had been vacant for a while so, he offered his aunt a deal. She could reopen her cafe inside his bookshop and they could merge the two units together. It had taken some convincing but in the end Maeve had accepted and the works had officially started. 

Life was busy but he had never been happier. The twins were seven and were in P2 and Rowan could not believe how quickly they were growing up. Freyja was still as wild and school had been a challenge. She hated being forced to sit at a desk. Hated the uniform. Hated school, but apart from her rebel attitude, the teachers kept telling them that she was a bright pupil and both Rowan and Aelin relaxed. Morrigan, on the other hand was the opposite of her twin. She adored school and was still the quiet one in the family. Dalamar was still at nursery and was meant to start school the following year. 

On that day Evalin had picked up the kids and brought them to the shop, something they adored. Then Rowan had taken them to swimming practice. He had kept his part time job as swimming instructor and the kids had followed in his footsteps. The twins being older were taking proper swimming classes while Dalamar just joined the club for the wee ones and splashed happily in the water while his sisters learnt to swim. When Aelin was not busy at the hospital she would accompany them and play with Dalamar. 

Usually the swimming classes were enough to exhaust his kids that he could cook in peace while waiting for Aelin to get back. That evening she had texted him that they had a last minute emergency and was running late. 

He tried for the umpteenth time to concentrate on a recipe for the evening when Freyja barged in the kitchen running followed by her brother and screaming that a dragon was chasing her. 

Rowan grabbed his daughter and lifted her in his arms burying his face in her belly causing the girl to laugh hard “dad, the dragon” and wiggled in her father’s arms to get free but Rowan did not let go. He just walked to Dalamar and offered him his free arm “hop on, oh mighty dragon.” The boy grabbed his father’s forearm swinging like a monkey and Rowan walked into the living room, his daughter under one arms and his son swinging from the other like a jungle creature.

Morrigan joined the chaos a moment later. Rowan kneeled and she climbed on his back.

In that moment he heard the door of the house open and an instant later Aelin waltzed in the living room and saw her husband completely overwhelmed by their children. She laughed at the scene “what is happening in here?” Her hands on the hips.

“A dragon is following me.” Shouted Freyja, with still too much energy in her. 

“I am not a dragon, I am a monkey.” Replied Dalamar, swinging a bit more from Rowan’s arm.

“And what are you doing, Morrigan?”

“The dragon has burned the floor.”

Rowan moved to the sofa and started to deposit the kids down “come on, let dad cook dinner. And don’t shout too much, mum is tired.”

The kids slowly climbed down their father and went to greet Aelin who hugged them all “did you all had a nice day? Did you go swimming tonight?”

“Yes.” The two girls shouted “Dad taught us how to jump in head first.”

Rowan roared with laughter “and they still are two clumsy little terrors who smash their bellies.”

“Be careful with that.” Said Aelin in full doctor mode “that type of jump is very risky, they can snap their neck if do not enter correctly.”

Rowan took a step towards his wife and wrapped his arms around her “I know. I would never put our daughters in danger.”

“Good,” she gave him a chaste kiss “now let mum take a shower and dad cook?”

“Tha.” Replied the three kids in unison.

The kids climbed back on the carpet Dalamar going back to his bricks, Morrigan to her colouring book and Freyja just kept swinging her plastic sword fighting some imaginary monster. While Aelin disappeared in the bathroom, Rowan finally managed to get back to the kitchen and think about dinner. It was getting late for the kids and he knew they would soon start to become agitated again and start bellowing for food. He grabbed a towel and threw it on his shoulder and then started preparing the ingredients. He was preparing veggie burgers made out of cous cous and chickpeas. The kids loved them. He was the one who cooked the most in the house since his hours were far more reliable and he had been doing his best to cook healthy meals, to Aelin displeasure as she complained that there were always far to many vegetables in his dishes. But she was okay with the kids following a healthy diet. Morrigan was pescatarian. The girl could not stand eating meat and last time Rowan had tried to give her beef or chicken, the poor girl had been sick all night. Whereas fish, she loved it and she was a happy veggie eater like her father. Dalamar would occasionally eat meat but with very little enthusiasms whereas Freyja was just like her mother. She would eat anything on her plate.

He was busy preparing the patties when he felt Aelin’s hand around his waist and a gentle kiss on his back.

“How the shift at the hospital?” He asked while finishing the patties and heating up the oil in the pan.

“Long.” She sighed against his chest “your dear wife might need some adult cuddling tonight.”

Rowan laughed and turned in her arms, throwing his towel on the counter. A deep kiss that, after seven years of marriage still made her toes curl. Aelin’s hands linked behind his neck and Rowan pushed her against the island and Aelin moaned in appreciation.

Until all hell broke loose.

The smoke alarm pierced the quiet of the room with its grating sound and when Aelin opened her eyes again she saw a quickly spreading fire behind Rowan.

“Rowan!” She shouted.

He turned quickly and looked for something to stop the fire but he was paralysed and he knew enough that water was not an option.

Aelin was already on the phone with the emergency services while Rowan grabbed another towel and tried to smother the fire with the only result of burning his hand.

“Ro, fire department is on its way.” She took his hand “a bad first degree burn.”

He was about to go and put it under the sink but Aelin stopped him.

At the deafening sound, the kids burst in the kitchen but Aelin pushed them away, taking Rowan with her “Come on kids let’s go back to the carpet.”

Morrigan and Dalamar went in their mother arms scared by the commotion. Freyja was standing just near the sofa looking at the fire in the kitchen in a daze.

Rowan noticed her and grabbed his daughter in his arms, ignoring the searing pain in his hand “That is dangerous.”

“It’s pretty.” Said the little girl.

It wasn’t long after that the fire department arrived. 

A woman with blonde hair, who was clearly in charge gave some orders and the team had the fire out in no time.

“Is anyone hurt?” Asked her, joining the family in the living room.

“My husband. First degree burn on his hand.” Replied Aelin pointing at Rowan leaning against the back of the sofa.

The woman called over the radio for a paramedic and Rowan scoffed claiming that he did not need one but at Aelin glared at him and he shut up.

And while Morrigan and Dalamar were still on the carpet quite shaken by the ordeal, Freyja was moving toward the tall woman. She reached for the hem of her bunker gear and pulled, claiming attention.

“Hello little one.” Said the woman kneeling to be at eye level with the girl “There’s no more fire. We fixed it. You don’t have to be scared.”

Freyja pouted “I was not scared.”

The woman laughed and brushed her silver hair and the girl grinned.

“Are you a fire woman?” She asked, looking at the adult in front of her with deep admiration.

In that instant another woman and a man came through and gave her a report, the woman nodded and got back to the girl in front of her “Yes, I am.”

Freyja beamed “can I be a fire woman too?”

The fire captain placed her heavy hat on the girl’s head which was gigantic on her but Freyja shouted for her parents but Aelin was busy speaking to the man and her dad was in the capable hands of a paramedic who was tending to his hand.

“You can be anything you want to be.” Said the woman softly, taking her hat back then she stood and Freyja bent her head upwards to stare at the woman while she walked to her parents.

“There is some damage and you will have to replace the stove and probably paint the wall near it.” She explained “I would suggest to have a fire blanket and a small fire extinguisher for cooking oils. They can easily be found online and they are good to have in emergencies.”

“We will. Thank you so much.”

The woman nodded and left with her team, while the paramedic was finishing fixing up Rowan’s hand “Keep it clean and change the bandage regularly. There are ointments that you can use to help the healing process. If it gets worse make sure you go to the hospital.” Rowan looked at Aelin and grinned “thank you. My wife is an A&E doctor, I am sure she will keep me right.”

“That’s why she looks familiar. Western Isles hospital, isn’t it? You are Aelin.”

“Hi Sarah.”

 Once the house was quiet again Aelin relaxed for a moment and Rowan went to Morrigan and Dalamar while Freyja was still staring at the door where the fire department had left.

“What is it, my love?”

Freyja turned at her mother���s voice, her face beaming with unbridled joy. They were all shaken by the evening, but her fierce girl was actually smiling.

“That was a fire woman.”

“Yes, my darling.”

“I want to be a fire woman too.”

Aelin crouched down to meet her daughter’s eyes and brushed some hair off her face “you can be anything you want to be, mo chridhe.  Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

Freyja hugged her mother then ran to her father, sister and brother shouting that she was going to be a fire woman.

Rowan joined Aelin a moment later and pulled her to his chest “I am sorry.”

“For what?”

“I got distracted.”

Aelin lightly punched him in the chest “I am the one who distracted you.”

He sighed “we have no dinner.”

“I’ll phone mum and ask her if we can go to her place.”

Aelin disappeared and Rowan stood in the kitchen looking at the mess. The fire had quickly spread and a part of the counter was damaged too. Everything was covered in foam and wasn’t even sure if it was safe to use the oven. The patties lay like burned blobs at the side. 

Aelin came back a moment later “mum is happy to have us. She is probably making dinner already.” She tugged her husband “let’s go, buzzard. We’ll think about it tomorrow.”

Once they finished getting the kids ready they went back to their room “So, Freyja wants to be a firefighter. She was staring at the fire in marvel and was amazed at seeing the two women firefighters.”

Rowan pulled Aelin to his chest “She is fearless like you. She has fire in her. I can totally see her become a badass firefighter.”

Aelin hugged him back in silence.

“She is our wee fireheart.”

Twelve years later, when Freyja finished her training at the fire academy and was assigned at the firehouse in Stornoway Aelin and Rowan happily looked back at that night knowing that it had changed the life of their daughter and were never happier of a fire in their house.