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hailbop1701 · 3 years

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Curing a Rainy Day

A sort of five times Star Trek gen fic for your viewing pleasure. I mentioned I would write it but please be aware that I wrote this on my phone late at night and I has no beta. Typos and mistakes will be found. 🤣

-H❤🖖

Word Count: 2,166

Sulu:

Leonard McCoy wasn’t a huge touchy-feely type of man. Well, that’s what he really wants folks to think anyway. He was a doctor and that meant it was his oath-bound duty to cure what ails his patients. Whether it was from a physical malady or an emotional one. The first time he initiated his “Rainy Day Cure” --title courtesy of his daughter-- to one of the command crew he was surprised that it was Sulu of all people. If Len were being honest he thought it would have been Jim. Sure he had hugged the kid in the past but he always let Jim be the one to initiate contact. The reason why is complicated and a story for another time.

When he found him the young pilot was huddled alone in Observation Room Five, his shoulders hunched, his down so his eyes were hidden and mind lightyears away. Leonard had a feeling he knew where. The chaos after Khan and Marcus had caused a lot of damage, and not all of it was physical. They were all still healing even a year later. They had left Kronos not three hours ago and according to the mission report, Sulu’s younger sister was…

Not who she claimed to be. ‘Yuki,’ McCoy recalled her name lamely as he made his way loudly over to the depressed man.

She revealed that she worked for Section 31 and was determined to fix the Federation the right way. Though the term “Right way” is skewed for many folks. War was almost started, again and the Enterprise had to stop it, again. Section 31 now had the last little pebble of Red Matter and was holding it like a…” Nuclear deterrent” as the old saying goes.

Shaking his head Leonard pushed recent events to the back of his mind and continued on his own mission. Plopping down on the couch that faced the giant window of stars, McCoy leaned forward so his elbows rested on his knees.

He didn’t offer his apologies or sympathies, he knew Sulu didn’t want them. So they sat in silence. Sulu just shook his head and looked up at the doctor with confusion and betrayal in his eyes. “I don’t - I” he stopped swallowing and the helmsman looked so young Leonard didn’t even think about it until after he had already done it.

He wrapped an arm over Hikaru’s shoulder and squeezed. Sulu stilled for a moment before relaxing and saying what needed to be said, a weight slowly lifting off his shoulders and his chest.

Scotty:

Leonard and Scotty were both having a terrible terrible time. The cold sucked in Leonard’s opinion and being trapped on an ice ball of a planet only confirmed his feelings. Looking over at the Enterprises Chief Engineer, Leonard had a feeling that he wasn’t alone in his thoughts and feelings.

The Scot was curled into a tight ball up against the last running console the entire ‘Fleet base had. He was shivering and muttering to himself, glaring at the distress signal he had rigged up. There was nothing they could do but wait. Rubbing his hands together to warm them Leonard moved toward the console and slid down to the floor next to Scotty. Touching shoulders with Scotty, McCoy tucked his hands under his arms and sighed. There was nothing he could really say to ease the engineer’s anxiety -- which stemmed from Delta Vega no doubt -- so he simply let his presence be enough.

Scotty glanced at Leonard to see that he was looking back at him with calm understanding. Grunting Scotty curled himself closer to the CMO and let the man wrap an arm around his shoulders. They didn’t speak a word and only moved when they heard the sounds of the rescue party on the other side of the sealed doors.

Chekov:

Pavel Chekov was the youngest of the command crew, so he was automatically protected and treated like the youngest sibling of a giant family. The navigator understood that his friends didn’t mean to and that it was just sometimes a reflex but he was getting damn tired of it. Today was his birthday, he had finally turned twenty! Chekov was so pleased to find that after the incident with Khan he was being treated like he should. There was one person who always treated him like he was young and precious.

Pavel found that he didn’t mind so much. Doctor McCoy treated almost everyone that way -- even though he wasn’t that much older than the rest of them -- in an almost fatherly manner. A true caretaker. Chekov allowed the behavior from no one but McCoy.

Leonard walked into “Rec Room Two” taking in the crowd with a softening scowl. A small wrapped parcel gripped in his hand. He looked down at the present, weighing it in his hands carefully. With a sigh, McCoy strode through the room looking for the birthday boy. Jim waved at him wildly from the other side of the room a huge grin on his face. Narrowing his eyes, Leonard saw that his captain wasn’t in fact drunk at all. Grunting in approval he smiled at Chekov who was hurrying over to greet him.

“Happy Birthday Pavel,”

Chekov grinned and his eyes widened at the present presented to him. Leonard gestured for him to open it and the young man did excitedly. The wrapping paper littered the floor a long black box in its place. Slowly opening the box the navigator knocked a silver antique pocket knife into his hands. Examining it closely he looked up at McCoy in confusion.

Leonard shifted nervously on his feet. Clearing his throat he pulled out a similar from his belt. “My daddy gave me this one to match his when I turned twenty. I know your pa wasn’t around as you grew up and so I thought…” his sentence fell into silence. For once Leonard McCoy was at a loss for words. Pavel quickly wiped a stray tear from his eye and grinned at his friend holding onto the gift tightly.

“Thank you doctor!” he said gratefully and Leonard understood that it was for more than just a knife. A small smile graced the CMO’s lips and pulled the kid in for a hug.

With anyone else, Pavel would have been annoyed. This was an exception.

Uhura:

Leonard was tired. He longed for his bed but as he looked around at all of the injured crew he pushed the longing away. There was no time for it. Rubbing the blurry fatigue from his eyes he pushed on. Triage, surgery, aftercare. He really didn’t truly stop to breathe until the middle of gamma shift when the ship was sleepy and quiet. The only noise was the soft beeps and whistles of monitors. His nurses quietly whispering and working.

Christine hours ago told him to stop worrying and to go to bed already but something in him just couldn’t. Blinking dumbly down at the PADD in his hands he sighed and signed off on the next round of Spock’s antibiotics. During the Enterprises most recent scuffle the bridge took a hit and the science station exploded sending the first officer flying, earning him a ticket to medical.

After the fight was over and things had only calmed down to a trickle of wounded instead of a flash flood, Nyota Uhura breezed through sickbay’s doors. She waited patiently and even helped where she could. When Spock came out of surgery and was placed in a private room she immediately went to his side and hasn’t moved an inch since. Jim would have been right beside her if he could afford to. But it appears the admiralty wanted words and had kept him busy since. McCoy had barely just convinced him to get some sleep saying that he would call if anything changes.

That was three hours ago.

Leonard walked -- though Nyota would say shuffled -- into Spock’s room, his eyes going straight to the monitors above the bed. The half Vulcan was resting peacefully. McCoy knew it was only a matter of time before he woke and would go into a healing trance. Something that should be monitored anyway. Leonard quietly wondered who he would grant the opportunity to slap Spock awake this time…

“Leonard!”

The sound of his name made the CMO snap his head in Uhura’s direction. Her eyes were fire, filled with frustration, exhaustion, and worry. McCoy winced, “Sorry Nyota, guess my mind wandered a bit,” he said somewhat sheepishly. Her expression softened a flash of guilt passing through her features.

“You need more rest. You’re going to run yourself into the ground at this rate,” she scolded half-heartedly. McCoy gave her a small smile and a shrug,

"I'll rest when I'm not needed." He whispered and badly covered up a yawn. The hidden meaning behind his words wasn't lost on the linguist though. She pressed her lips into a tight line deciding not to comment. Instead, she rested her gaze on Spock once more her hand inches away from his.

So deep in thought, Nyota hadn't even realized that McCoy had left and come back, a tray with a couple of hypos in his always unwavering hands. Catching her eyes he gave her another encouraging smile. He took care to tell her everything he was doing and how it would help keep infection away. Leonard knew he didn't have to explain but he felt it necessary to fill the quiet with "Illogical chatter" as Spock would surely call it.

Uhura was so tired and so frazzled that she was startled to find the CMO crouching in front of her with concern all over his face. "You need to get some rest Nyota. I can have a cot brought in if you'd like…"

Uhura, let a few tears fall before she bottled it up again. She shook her head wiping her face, "I'm alright Leo. Everything is just catching up to me…" she mumbled with a watery chuckle. Leonard snorted at the nickname she had given him,

"Just let me know darlin' "

And without truly thinking about it he pulled her into a hug. It only took Uhura a second to process what was happening before she wrapped her arms around him tightly. A genuine smile breaking across her face. The first time in hours she felt content, safe, and able to truly breathe.

Jim:

James T. Kirk was a touchy-feely type of man. Leonard supposed it may be from a less than stellar childhood. So whenever Jim would pull him into a one-armed hug or slapped his back or even leaned up against him, McCoy would let him. He would definitely bitch but only half-heartedly, Leonard needed to keep up appearances after all.

So when they found Jim partially dead, hanging from his wrists in a cave all smirks and charm…

Well, no one batted an eye when -- after he made sure that the man would live -- Leonard pulled his best friend in for a hug. Jim just laughed, laid an arm over McCoy's shoulder, and leaned into the hug.

"I only had to get tortured and offered to an alien God for you to hug me. Good to know,"

"Shut up Kid,"

Spock:

No one ever thought the words McCoy, Spock, and hug would ever be uttered but stranger things have happened on the Enterprise.

No stranger than an alien device that turned back time. In a physical sense anyway. Leonard looked down at his adolescent hands and sighed with a heavy eye roll. "Not this again," he grumbled with a shudder.

Looking around the room he saw Jim shouting at Mudd who had bought the alien weapon and decided to point it at him and Spock. McCoy tilted his head, his eyes going comically wide.

Spock!

Where was the green-blooded rugrat? Leonard looked around and sighed in relief at the sight of the first officer. He was hidden under a rickety wooden table. Crouching down Leonard gave Spock a small smile, he waved and gestured for the Vulcan to come closer. Apparently the younger you go the further your mind goes with it. Spock had a mentality of a...of well, a toddler. He couldn't have been more than two.

Spock stared at Leonard intensely before darting out and crashing into his legs. McCoy stumbled a little before he got his footing. Spock looked up at him with wide scared eyes, tears threatening to fall. 'Must have gotten all Vucan-y at four or five,' Leonard thought as he picked up his friend.

Leonard pulled Spock close, hugging him to his chest whispering softly. Spock seemed confused for only a moment before he buried his head into the young CMO's neck.

Jim of course saw it all and later under the threat of meeting his end via an airlock kept his mouth firmly shut. The only thing the Starship Captain said -- which everyone agreed-- Doctor Leonard McCoy could absolutely cure a rainy day.

Tags:

@lauraaan182, @chickadee-djarin, @cowenby2, @bluesclues-1234, @sayuri9908,

#star trek aos #leonard mccoy #leonard bones mccoy #jim kirk #james t kirk #spock #mister spick #nyota uhura #pavel chekov #hikaru sulu #montgomery scott #fanfiction #hailey the queen of typos

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adhdeancas · 3 years

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@hell-is-where-the-party-is you convinced me.

This is: Dean tries to give himself top surgery in a motel bathroom.

TW: gore, performing surgery on yourself, dysphoria, mild suicidal ideation

Disclaimer: DO NOT DO THIS. THIS IS A HORRIBLE IDEA DO NOT DO THIS. (I am not a doctor so I don’t even know how bad of an idea this is, I used my imagination and some research.)

For the record, Dean knows this is a bad idea. He does.

"Okay, okay shit. You can do this. Fuck." he mutters, shaking his hands out and hoping some of the nerves will go with them. They don't, which is just his fucking luck. He shoves his jeans to the floor with his socks and hesitates. Okay, boxers stayed on. He can afford to ruin a pair of boxers. Better that than be totally exposed when he does this.

His first top layer comes off easy, the second less so, but he takes it off too. Then he pulls off his sports bra, wincing a little at the tenderness. When you wear a sports bra all day every day, no matter how comfortable it was when you first put it on, it cuts into you like your own personally molded armpit knife after a while. And then he is shirtless, and he is actually doing this.

"You can do this, Dean." he doesn't even wanna look down. "A little bit of pain, and then you never have to do it again. Flat chest. How it should be." he lets himself imagine it, just for a second. Opening his eyes and leaning in to look in that dusty mirror and lifting up his shirt to see smooth, flat skin looking back sat him. Fuck, it's a dream. "Okay, damnit."

Dean crawls into the tub and braces his back against the grimy wall. He'd done all the boring-ass research he could, the musty medical textbooks suddenly seeming a whole lot more interesting with a goal in mind, sanitized all the surfaces even though there were decades of motel living caked under the alcohol coating. A swig of whiskey for luck, a belt in his mouth so he doesn't bite his tongue (or scream, he can't wake Sammy up), and he starts.

"Lidocaine spread to all affected areas," he chants to himself quietly. His voice is too fucking high. "All affected areas," he corrects with an artificially lowered tone, squeezing his eyes shut. He can do this. Hell, he's helped his dad hunt, he's seen dead bodies and he's done his share of patching up his dad's injuries. He can do this. He waits until he can't feel the poke of his knife against his skin, then takes a breath. "A few minutes of pain and then- and then- you're fucking free."

Dean plunges the knife into his skin. It hurts immediately, the lidocaine not enough, blinding fuckin pain, but he tears across with his knife before he can think about it, a jagged line on his left. The blood pours down his stomach and soaked into his boxers, and Dean is crying like a little girl. He can hear his own sobs through the belt, but he keeps going, because he started this. A similar line on the other side, and more blood. Dean isn't one to get woozy at the sight of blood, but seeing so much come out of him makes him feel like he is going to die in this dingy motel bathroom. He digs the knife in and saws, feels himself biting into the cheap leather of the belt. Better to die having tried to live.

What medical textbooks can't tell you is how the fat grips onto the skin, onto the muscle, and tearing it away isn't like sawing it off a piece of raw chicken, because every pull tears at your core like you're ripping your chest to ribbons. His chest fights to stay on him, and he fights to cut it off.

"Dean?"

Dean swears and blinks the tears out of his eyes so he can see. He's not done. He's not close to done. "If you gotta pee, do it somewhere else!" he shouts, voice muffled from the belt hanging from his lips.

"Dean, are you okay?"

Sammy sounds so small. Dean swears. He can't die in this filthy-ass tub. He can't do that to Sam. He can't leave him with their dad and the memory of finding his big brother in the tub with one tit lying in the drain. "Great, fucking, go-" he tries to take the next chunk off while he's still talking, to distract himself from it. It doesn't work. He faints. It's only for a few seconds, but a few seconds are all Sam needs to get worried enough that Dean can hear his stupid small little feet running on the thin carpeting.

"Dean!"

Dean doesn't know what Sam expects him to do. He doesn’t know what he thinks is happening in here. "Sam, I'm fine, please don't-" his voice is too weak to reach across the three feet to the door, let alone beyond.

He knows he's only got a few seconds before he blacks out again. He can see it building on the corners of his vision, black spots turning to clouds. So he rips at his flesh viciously, like it's something that's not him, because it's not, and because he can't live with it anymore. It's a tumor and it's clinging underneath his skin and his tears aren't because of the knife but because of the desperate need to get it out.

"Dean," Sammy gasps. He's jimmied the lock because of course he has, and he's standing there with his spindly pre-teen body, eyes big as the moon. "What did you-"

"What does it look like, Sammy," Dean mutters weakly. The black threatens to overtake him, but he tries to stay above it for Sammy. He winks out once or twice, but he tries.

"Dean, we gotta- we gotta get you to a hospital." Sam breathes, worry seeping through his every gesture. He tugs the knife out of Dean's hand, which lets go too easily, and he prop's his big brother's head up. "Dean, look at me. Look at me. You're gonna be okay, okay? We're gonna go to the hospital and they're gonna fix you up-"

"No, Sammy, please, we don't have the money, and Dad doesn't have the- the time, we'll get CPS called on us, no Sammy, no hospitals,"

"Dean, you've lost blood. You, you're cut up pretty bad." Sam's voice shakes. He tries to take in the damage.

"What if they… what if they try to put it back?" Dean whispers, his voice creeping into the high register he hates as his throat closes up in fear and tears. "Sam, please, I can't,"

Sam's crying too now. The kid's fucking terrified. "Okay."

"Just- gimme, gimme the knife." Dean hates to say it. He doesn't want the slick knife back in his hand or the roiling pain back with every saw.

Sam doesn't give him the knife. "You're in too much pain."

"Well no shit, I cut my fucking chest open!" He tries to sit up to take the knife from him and gasps so hard the belt falls from his mouth.

"Dean, this isn't working. You'll never get through it," Sam's voice takes on that hard tone that a 12 year old just shouldn't have, the one that reminds Dean he's more capable than he or his dad give him credit for. He's problem solving. He lays the knife down on the tile and pushes himself to his feet. "I promise no hospitals, but you have to let me sew you up."

Dean shakes his head. It makes him dizzy. "No, I'm not done."

"This won't work, Dean! Fuck!" Sam covers his face with his hands. Now that he's cussing, Dean knows he's serious. "Bobby. We'll get Bobby to help. He's dug bullets out of Dad before."

Dean bites his lip. A bullet in a shoulder is a lot different than fat out of a chest, but to be fair, Dean's had even less experience. And to be honest, no more pain sounds pretty good right now. "Promise?"

"We'll start driving tomorrow."

John's still a state over on a hunt, and he's alone, which means he'll spend at least three extra days there getting drunk off his ass. It could work. "Okay."

Sam lets out a relieved breath. "Okay good."

"Then hand me the bottle on the counter."

Sam picks up the white pill bottle, any prescription long since rubbed off. "What is it?"

Dean grins a nervous lopsided grin. "Percocet?" Pretty easy to get on the road, if you knew who to go to. And hunters always did.

Sam just shakes his head and throws it at him. He leaves and comes back while Dean dry-swallows the pills, holding floss and their stitching needle. Dean silently thanks any sorry Greater Power out there that he doesn't have to sew himself up with the fishhook he'd snagged for the occasion. "Hold still." he commands, and it's dumb the way he's so young and so demanding at the same time. Dean would make a joke but he for once doesn't feel like being a smartass, so he just leans against the tub and focuses on the feel of the plastic at his back, tacky with his sweat.

Sam helps Dean shower after that, letting him lean on his shoulder as he stands next to him full clothed and lets the water wash the blood down the drain. It's only when he's putting Dean in bed that Dean actually talks again. "Hey bitch," he mutters, flapping his hand. Sam returns to his side, still eyeing the stiches to make sure he doesn't rip them out. So far, they've held. "You'd make a pretty good nurse."

Sam rolls his eyes and squeezes Dean's hand. He knows that's his way of saying thank you. "Shut up and get some sleep, jerk."

"Yes, ma'am."

It's the only time Sam can remember in his whole childhood that Dean lets him drive Baby without even trying to argue that he can make it to Bobby's himself.

#my writing #trans dean #dean winchester #ficlet #tw: gore #tw: suicidal ideation #tw: dysphoria

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itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto · 4 years

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Cause baby you’re a firework.

A/N: Hi everyone! This is a bit of an angst heavy fic. Reader gets hurt on a case, and Spencer, her best friend worries he didn’t get the chance to admit his feelings. It has a fluffy ending!

Trigger warnings: Explosions, bombs, swearing, mentions of violence, blood, surgery details.

“So, my loves, bit of a heavy one for a Monday morning but there have been a series of explosions in Dallas, all big companies, 50 dead and counting.” Garcia said.

“That’s not as high as I thought it would be.” Emily says.

“Some have life threatening injuries.” J.J said as Garcia quickly went through the photos trying not to look at the horror of the blast and the injured victims.

“Why have we been called in baby girl?” Morgan asks

“The un-subs have been in disguise, a different one each time and seem to pose very professional so security doesn’t question them.” Garcia said, “We need to find them fast.”

“Wheels up in 30.” Hotch said closing his case file.

Everyone nods and grabs their go bags. “You okay Spence?” You ask your best friend

“Yeah, just these victims didn’t deserve this. No one deserves this.” Spencer says

“We know kid.” Rossi says to the 30 year old, “Let’s roll.”

On the plane

“Y/N, you used to be a bomb diffuser, didn’t you?” Hotch asked

“I did. Why?” You ask. Before the FBI you used to work dealing with this stuff every-day and have saved thousands of lives.

“Do you know what bomb this is?” Hotch asked showing you a photo of the last bomb used.

You look for your glasses before Spencer lends you his, as you have the same prescription, “Yeah, it’s a T148. It’s used mainly in Afghanistan and 3rd world countries where there are wars still going on. Small put powerful. Could kill anyone within a 10-mile radius.” You say handing Spencer his glasses back. “I’ve diffused a couple.”

“Y/N, how old are you?” Rossi asks, “I don’t like to ask women their ages, but you are very young.”

“I’m 24. I diffused one exactly like this when I worked for the MI5 in London. This bomb is poorly constructed though. The wiring is badly put together, probably explains Emily’s theory on why not as many people died in the buildings, only those about 2-3m from the bomb would have died and everyone else life-threatening injuries as J.J said earlier.” You say. “I’d say our un-subs are young, similar aged to me and doing this because they are being forced to for some reason such as their families being threatened.”

“How awful.” J.J says

“I’ve seen it before, it isn’t pleasant.” You say, not really keen on talking about your past but know the team wouldn’t ever judge you, or force you into saying something that made you uncomfortable but their facial expressions tell you they want to know what happened. “Last case I did in London, before transferring here, a family were held hostage in their own home and the un-sub wouldn’t let them go unless their son blew up their family home with them all inside. It was horrible.”

“What happened?” Spencer asked

“I ran into the house, and diffused the bomb, but the unsub found me stabbed me in my stomach and back multiple times just as I diffused it. He got shot dead outside, the next thing I remember is the family thanking me for saving them and the doctor saying I was in a coma for 7 days as I lost that much blood. One of the family members had the same blood type as me and donated the blood I needed as a way of thanking me for saving them or I would have died in surgery.” You say getting out of your chair, showing your scars on your stomach and back from where you got stabbed and had surgery.

“Shit.” Emily said.

“Did your family come to see you?” JJ asked

“I don’t have a family. I’m adopted and I don’t get on with my real family, or my adopted ones. I moved out when I was 18.” You shrug, not really bothered by it. “And before you all give me your condolences, I don’t need them. You are all my family now.” You smile as some turbulence occurs.

“Y/N are you okay to look at the diffused bombs when we arrive into Dallas?” Rossi asks you softly

“Yes, of course.” You say and get some sleep, but still dream about that day once a week and it keeps you up at night.

“How old was she when that happened?” Spencer asked, referring to the house bomb you just referred to.

“18.” Hotch said, “It’s in her file. She saved not just the family but the whole street as it was late at night.”

“Poor kid.” Rossi said as some turbulence hit the plane. “I didn’t realize she’d joined us when she was 18.”

“She really doesn’t act her age.” Morgan said, “When I was 24 I was doing stupid shit like getting drunk with my buddies and playing socker.”

“I didn’t know you were a bad flyer.” Spencer said noticing Rossi looking uncomfortable

“I’m not, I just hate turbulence.” Rossi said, holding onto his seat.

“You know turbulence very rarely causes planes to crash.” Spencer said looking up from his file.

“That does me absolutely no good at the moment. Thank you.” Rossi said through gritted teeth

“What we really need to worry about are microbursts - a sudden downburst of air associated with thunderstorms - but small craft like this one, if we hit one of those at the wrong altitude... Get pulverized.” Spencer said as he sipped his coffee.

“I beg of you to make him stop.” Rossi said to the rest of the team

“You can’t silence genius.” J.J chuckled

The team arrives into Dallas

“Wake up sleepy head.” Spencer smiled, gently waking you unaware you had the horrible dream again.

“Yeah.. Coming.” You say rubbing your eyes looking for your go bag.

“I got it.” Spencer said

“Thanks, and for lending me your glasses earlier.” You yawn.

“No problem.” Spencer smiled at his best friend.

You smile back as you get into the car and drive to the police station.

“Hi I’m J.J, these are my colleagues, Rossi, Hotch, Morgan, Y/S/N and Dr Reid.” J.J said shaking his hand, “You must be detective Smith.”

Smith nods, “Sure am. Set y’all up a conference room with donuts and coffee.” He says in a British accent.

“Donuts and coffee? To what to we owe the pleasure of food?” Morgan said as Smith shrugged winking at you.

“You know him kiddo?” Rossi asked

“He was in the same foster home as me.” You sigh, he beat you up a few times and eventually you learnt to fight back telling Rossi what he did to you.

“Just remember you are so much better than him Y/N, you’re in the fucking FBI and he’s a lame detective.” Spencer said, “And you have a donut.” He smiled shoving it in your face which made you laugh.

“And I have a family, and a dork of a best friend.” You smile, trying to hide your crush on Spencer, unaware he feels the same and start to eat the donut.

The team deliver a profile

“Hotch, can I go to forensics and check out the old bombs?” You ask

“Yes, of course Y/N. Spencer, Morgan, go with Y/N.” Hotch said

“Road trip with two nerds, come on Hotch.” Morgan rolled his eyes

“Hey!” You and Spencer both say

“We’re not nerds, we’re limited edition weirdos.” You smile

At forensics, you are chatting to the lab assistant, making chat about things, unaware Spencer is getting jealous.

“Just ask her out pretty boy.” Morgan said sipping his coffee.

“No! I can’t… She’s too perfect. I bet she has a boyfriend.” Spencer said

“Hey love birds, so this bomb is the same as the others, the first was done perfectly, but the last one, less so. So, I’m thinking something happened to him or her, and the other two are now working alone.” You say to Morgan and Spencer

Spencer’s cheeks flush at the mentioning of the words ‘love birds’ and phones Hotch with your findings as Morgan phones Garcia.

“Has he asked her yet chocolate thunder?” Garcia asked

“Not yet Mama, soon hopefully.” Morgan chuckled

“Keep me posted my love.” Garcia giggled

“Will do baby girl. Bye.” Morgan laughed and hung up, as Spencer’s cheeks got redder.

A few days have passed, and the case isn’t going anywhere, there is little information and all DNA left at the scene has been too small to get a sample.

“Guys… I think I got something.�� You say looking up from the computer you were reading from.

“What is it Y/N?” Hotch asked

“Big new building having a grand opening today, over 1000 people attending. This could be the next one.” You say.

“Let’s go.” Hotch told the team

In the car

“Hotch, if it comes to it, you realise I will want to find the bomb and diffuse it.” You say, feeling the tension in the car.

“Y/N, you can’t risk you own life again.” Morgan said

“1 for over 1000, I’d rather that than my family and all those people die.” You say bluntly.

“You can’t.” Emily says as Spencer nods agreeing with her.

“I will.” You say through gritted teeth.

“Let’s just hope it doesn’t come to that.” Hotch said as you arrive into the building.

Outside the building

“Prentiss, J.J, Morgan, you take the left side. Rossi, Reid, Y/S/N and I will take the left. Meet in the middle.” Hotch says as you all nod putting your vests on and holding your guns out ready.

“Ready?” Spencer asks you.

“Yeah, let’s go.” You say.

“FREEZE FBI!” You announce, noticing the un-subs who set the bomb to go off and run. “After them, left stairwell, 6th floor, going down.” You say, “I got this.”

“Y/N…” Spencer began

“Spencer, fucking go. I’m fine.” You say shooing him away.

Spencer nods, not really wanting to leave you and goes after the un-subs with the team.

“You forgot about one thing princess.” You suddenly hear behind you.

“Smith?” You say, recognising his voice. “What the fucking shit?”

“Never were the smart one was you…” He said stomping on your arm and you scream out in pain trying to grab your weapon as he stomps on your leg and starts to tut. “Oh Y/N… So helpless… So innocent… Never could take my punches…” He said as you quickly notice a gap and grab your weapon, as he stabs you in the chest. You take your chance, whilst screaming in pain and shoot him dead then quickly tell the team you are hurt and continue to work on the bomb.

30 seconds until it goes off.

You take some wires apart. 20 seconds left.

“Y/N!” You hear the team call your name.

“Up here!” You call back, as you manage to stop the bomb going off and collapse next to Smith, blood pouring out of your chest.

“Y/N… Breathe… You’re going to make it…” Spencer says scooping you up and putting pressure on the wound as you close your eyes. “You’re going to make it…” He says again as tears go down his cheeks as the paramedics arrive to take you to surgery. “I’m going with her.” Spencer tells Hotch who nods.

“Keep us posted.” Rossi says as Spencer just keeps his head down as Morgan tells Garcia what happened.

“Oh my baby… Please bring her home.” Was all that she managed to say.

You ended up having surgery.

“Dr Reid?” A doctor said coming out in scrubs full of blood.

“Yes.” Spencer says quickly getting up, he hasn’t left the hospital since you went in 5 hours ago, twice to have a stress cigarette and to get a coffee.

“She’s strong that girl. Her heart stopped beating in surgery, but she’s out now and she’s awake if you want to speak to her.” He says

Spencer nods and follows the doctor to your room as he tells the team the news.

“Oh thank God.” Garcia says, “Bring her dessert. She needs chocolate pudding.”

Spencer walks into your room. “Hey.” He says softly

“Hi pretty boy.” You smile.

“Nice to see your memory wasn’t affected.” Spencer says

“If I’d been stabbed 5cm closer. I’d be dead.” You say, “I think my bomb days are over.” You chuckle then wince noticing the stitches.

Spencer sits down. “Are you okay, besides the pain?” He asks giving you the chocolate pudding.

“Yeah, I mean, I got my best friend right here and my favourite pudding. Can’t complain.” You say smiling

“I was really worried for you.” Spencer said

“Me too.” You admit

“Can I ask you something?” Spencer asked biting his lip

“If it’s for a stress cigarette, I already know you have had one.” You say, “We have the same habits Dr Reid.”

“No.” Spencer laughed. “I like you Y/N. I love you actually, more than just you being my best friend… I have for the last few years… Would you like to go on a date with me?” Spencer asked looking down.

You smile, cupping his face with your hands. “I’d love to, but maybe when I’m not wearing a hospital gown and we have an audience.” You say referring to the team all there, and Penelope on Skype, waving at you.

“Audience?” Spencer asks then clocks the team. “Fuckers.” He says as they all come in to hug you and bring you more pudding.

“She’ll be out tomorrow morning.” The doctor said

“Thank you Doctor.” You smile at him

“Don’t do that again Y/N.” Hotch whispered to you, you’re like the daughter he never had. “You saved 1000 people, and we caught the other two un-subs.”

“My bomb days are over.” You assure Hotch and make grabby hands for the pudding Spencer has started to eat.

“Hey pretty boy, better make sure pretty girl gets her pudding or she’ll put a bomb on it.” Morgan said as you all laugh.

“I love you guys.” You smile.

“The feeling is mutual.” Rossi smiled as they all left you and Spencer alone.

“Stay the night?” You asked him quietly.

“I’m not leaving you.” Spencer smiled kissing your cheek and holding your hand.

“I thought you had a thing with germs.” You say

“I make exceptions for my Mum and my date.” Spencer smiled, “Now get some rest.”

“As long as you don’t eat my pudding.” You say as you close your eyes getting the best nights sleep you have had in a long time.

“Deal.” Spencer whispers as he sings you your favourite song, Firework by Katy Perry.

'Cause baby, you're a firework

Come on, show 'em what you're worth

Make 'em go, "Oh, oh, oh"

As you shoot across the sky

Baby, you're a firework

Come on, let your colors burst

Make 'em go, "Oh, oh, oh"

You're gonna leave 'em all in awe, awe, awe

Tag-list: @pumpkin-goob , @jpegjade , @andiebeaword , @hopebaker , @hotchsbabygirl , @hercleverboy , @cupcake525 , @gubetube , @aperrywilliams , @cosmic-psychickitty , @marleyhotchner , @gubler-me-up

Requests are open!

Let me know if you want to be on my tag-list!

#Criminal Minds #criminal minds fic #spencer reid #spencer x reader #derek morgan #aaron hotchner #emily prentiss #jj #Penelope garcia #my fics

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surveys-at-your-service · 3 years

Text

Survey #457

“blue are the words i say and what i think / blue are the feelings that live inside of me”

Do you buy your lingerie at Victoria’s Secret? No. That shit is so overpriced and not for my size group. Would you ever use an online dating service? I never would again. Are you good at multitasking? ABSOLUTELY NOT. Have you ever eaten Frosted Mini Wheats? Ugh, those are so gross. What does your bikini look like? You think THIS bitch wears a bikini??????????????????????? Does age really matter in a relationship? To an extent, yes. How much does the last person you kissed mean to you? I honestly don't even know if I'd be here without her. Almost like magic, Sara popped back into my life right after I returned home from the hospital following my suicide attempt. She helped make recovery possible as a solid source of support. Do you use lotion? Not NEARLY enough. My skin is so dry; I need to. Do you believe in teenage love? I experienced it deeply and thoroughly, so yes. Have you ever sat on the roof of your house? No. Do you like Sublime? I like that one popular one of theirs. "Santaria" or whatever it's called? What’s your favorite movie genre? Paranormal horror, especially the "found footage" type. It's creepy to imagine it being actually real. Is there a celebrity that you’d be willing to have a one night stand with? If he was single? I know in my gut I would lmaooooo Do you want to live in your current town the rest of your life? OH MY GOD PLEASE NO If you found out today your best friend was gay what would you do? She's demisexual, so. She can like anybody. If you could get a pet for free today-what kind/what name? A tegu, because it wouldn't need an enclosure that I don't have. I'd let it free roam. God, I can only imagine Roman's reaction. How many people have you slept with? If you mean what I think you do by "slept," one. Do you ever wish you had a family business to become a part of? Not really. What’s the most gruesome way you could come up with to kill someone? Hunny, have you seen my dark RP????? The world best be glad I'm a pacifist lmfao Do you think anyone deserves to die that way? I don't believe in torture, so no. If you had to fight for survival, what would your weapon of choice be? A gun, I guess? I'd want something with range and that's quick. I wanted to say a bow and arrow, but preparing another arrow after shooting once could really cost you your life. Where did you buy your favorite pair of jeans? I don't wear jeans anymore. Do you have a large dog? We don't have a dog, period. If not, are you afraid of them? No, I love big 'ole puppos!!!!! I just don't wanna own a dog myself. Are you good at playing darts? Holy fuck no, I have NO hand-eye coordination. I once stabbed the guy at a balloon popping booth thing with a dart in the arm, if that tells you anything, ooooooooooof. Do you like breaded chicken sandwiches? YESSSSSSSSS omg Do your parents know that/if you smoke? They know that I don’t. Have you ever been under a blacklight? Omg so in elementary school, we did this thing once where we all washed our hands as best we could and then put them under some sort of light (maybe a blacklight, idk???) to see JUST how resilient germs are. You gotta scrub the fuck out ya hands, people. How many pounds do you want to lose? I'd rather not share a number, but a lot. What’s your favorite natural phenomenon? The Northern Lights. Do you snore? Very surprisingly for someone with sleep apnea like mine, I actually don't. How many people do you know with the same first name as you? Off the very top of my head, one, but it's spelled differently. I KNOW I know of a shitload more Brittanys, though. Is it possible you could be pregnant? Well, I haven't been intimate with a man in years and just finished my period, so like- Could you go a day without texting? I go most days without texting. Do you have a step-parent? My dad is remarried, so yes. If so, do you get along with them? She's EXTREMELY Christian, so her beliefs wildly disagree with mine, but I keep my mouth shut a lot just to keep the peace. She IS a very sweet woman, nevertheless, and am glad she and my dad are so happy together. Does your current/last job require that you wear a uniform? My last job (which lasted not even two hours lol) did. When will your driver’s license expire? My permit has been expired for like... two years. Do you live in an apartment? No. If the last person you kissed proposed to you what would you say? That's too wild a concept to even imagine. I'd probably ask if she was okay lmao. Would you ever get back with one of your exes? Weeeelp, I want to get back together with Girt. Pretty badly. Write a foreign word, and what it means: "Schadenfreude" is a German term that essentially means secondhand embarrassment, but it doesn't have a perfect translation. Is there an ex you think about everyday? Inevitably. That's PTSD, my friends. Who is the last person that you said I love you to, besides family members? Sara. What's the worst thing you have ever said to anyone? Something along the lines of "no one could ever love you like I do." It boils my blood just typing that; I considered even deleting this question. That quote right there is fucking manipulation, even IF I thoroughly believed it. Who was the last person to comment one of your pictures? I don't feel like looking. Do you tend to go for older or younger when looking for someone to date? It's weird, I'm into slightly older-than-me guys, but probably girls who are barely a bit younger than me. Have you ever been used? I don't think so. Have you ever not been able to get someone out of your head? Like I've said in plenty of surveys: Jason is probably a permanent fixture. But also as of the past two days, Girt's been living up there. I went from "hmmm I just don't know how I feel" to "FUCK I want to talk to him about how stupidly into him I am right this fucking INSTANT" pretty goddamn fast. It kinda scares me just because of how extreme my feelings are. Again. That's only ever gotten me hurt. Buuuut let's not get into that. Have you ever got caught cheating on a test? No, because I've never tried to. Will your next kiss be a mistake? I hope it won't be. But it's not like I know the future. Have you ever worn an oxygen mask? Actually yes, when I was young and thought I was having an asthma attack or something. Mom had one for her own asthma. Then I obviously wore one for surgery. What song do you want to be played at your funeral? "Paradise" by Coldplay is absolutely #1. How many swear words are in the song you’re listening to? I'm not listening to music; I'm back to watching Gab play Sekiro. What color was the last swimsuit you wore? Black. Have you ever kissed anyone of the same sex, and if so, who? Yeah, just Sara. Who did you last tell to ‘shut up’? Ha, I think my WoW friend Lyndsey, but only playfully, of course. We pick fun at each other all the time. Would you ever get a tattoo of a boyfriend/girlfriend's name? NOOOOOOOOO. Are you one of those girls who already have baby names picked out? I know what I'd name my kids IF I actually wanted any, yeah, but I don't. Do you think guys with long hair are attractive? Yessss, I love long hair on guys. Are any of your siblings taller than you? I think Ashley is a liiiiil bit taller? I know my brother is, for sure. Have you ever scared someone so badly that they cried? Yikes, no. When was the last time you wore high heels? Boy oh boy, no idea. Is there someone that you want to hurt right now? Jeez, no thanks. What was the most interesting or colorful birthday cake you’ve had? I don't remember, but I'm sure something from childhood. What was the last thing someone bought you? Was it expensive? Mom bought me food from McD's, which obviously isn't expensive. Do you have any interesting moles anywhere you don’t want people to know of? No. Have you ever gotten high or drunk in a really formal place? Strong "no" there. Do you ever write poetry and post it on any certain websites? On the very rare occasion I write poetry and actually like it, I'll sometimes post it on dA. What do you miss most about your childhood? Actually, genuinely having fun and not dealing with fucking anhedonia. Would you like to know the precise date of your future death? Hell no. Do you photograph well? I'd like to hope so. Are there any animals you flat out refuse to touch? Maggots and similar bug larvae. What super power would you refuse, if it was offered to you, and why? Mind reading. It just sounds... awful and overwhelming. What’s your favorite discontinued product that you wish would come back? Oh, I KNOW I have answers to this, just none are coming to me immediately and I don't feel like sitting here for five minutes thinking about it. If adults had show and tell, what would you bring into work? My snek! :') If you had a reset button for the last 10 years, would you press it? Tempting, but... I don't think I would. I cannot go through how deep my depression was again. Who is someone you would never swear in front of? My nieces and nephew. Yes, I don't believe in profanity being a "thing" and is just a stupid human fabrication, but nevertheless I acknowledge societal standards and expectations, and they're way too young to get when you shouldn't say something like that and why. Have you ever won a contest or competition? A few. Who is your favorite TV character? I don't think I really have one? Do you coo over other people’s babies? Not really, no. Sometimes I'll think they're super cute and be like "awww," but I don't like... squeal and spaz like some people do. What is something that makes you very squeamish? VOMIT. Has there been a celebrity death that really affected you? Steve Irwin got me deeper than anyone else. Chester Bennington hit real hard, too. If you’re out of high school, have you stayed in touch with your high school friends? If you’re still in school, do you think you will? Most of my closest ones, yes, at least via Facebook. What’s a movie that you want to see? Old movie, but Jacob's Ladder. It was a massive influence on Silent Hill, so naturally, I'll probably love it. It's a classic, anyway. Do you use the same username everywhere online or do you have a lot? I use "Ozzkat" in most places, but I do have some other ones for different sites. Who was the last person you know who became pregnant? My friend Ana recently revealed she's expecting her second child, a boy. What fad were you actually into? I have zero clue. Have you ever tailgated? Would you want to? Fuck no. That's how so many wrecks happen. My sister legit got in a wreck with an 18-wheeler mostly because she was tailgating (which she does BADLY); she was trying to pass, and he moved over at the same time because he couldn't see her coming around. It's a borderline miracle she got out with only some cuts, bruises, and a seatbelt burn. Have patience, people. Get off cars' asses. Why did you fall for the last person romantically? Look, don't get me started on this. There are a shitload of reasons and I have been way too emotional over this the past few days laksdfja;lwke What’s the last thing you had to eat? A bagel w/ cream cheese for breakfast. Do you ever pick up your house phone? We don't have a landline phone. Truth be told, are you more into looks or personalities the most? Personalities, for sure. I cannot be into you if your personality isn't attractive.

#survey #surveys #random questions #lyrics: ''i'm blue'' by eiffel 65

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calumcest · 4 years

Text

i took a walk with my fame down memory lane (i never did find my way back) - chapter two

[ao3]

here we are...look at me posting on a regular schedule who ever said i was chaotic!

@tirednotflirting i will not stop thanking you on every single chapter get ready to get incredibly bored of hearing me thank you and say how nice it is to have you on the doc because i’m saying it twice for every chapter once here and once on ao3 which actually has just reminded me to put the ao3 link on this chapter see it’s actually super useful. ao3 link inserted i love you i adore you and i cannot thank you enough for the amount of bullshit you put up with from me both generally and regarding this fic especially

me posting this fic is just please enjoy my downwards spiral (and listen to britpop)

Predictably, Noel doesn’t piss himself. He also doesn’t aim a punch at Calum when he finds out about the bet, though, which is his way of saying hope you’re alright. Instead, he just cuffs Liam upside the head, calls all of them pricks, and announces he’s going to bed. Liam rolls his eyes and calls him a boring cunt, which earns him another clip around the ear, but not two minutes after Noel and Bonehead have filed out of the room, Liam’s yawning and saying that he might turn in too. Calum, not wanting to be left in the living room on his own during a comedown, follows him out, listening to Liam mutter something about Tony and firing him because he’s almost as much of a boring cunt as Noel all the way up to their room.

Liam crashes almost as soon as they get in, passing out fully-clothed on his bed, and, as Calum’s trying to carefully pick his way through the debris littering the floor from his bed to the ensuite to brush his teeth, he trips over something that makes him stub his toe against the wardrobe and swear under his breath. He winces, gripping his toe as he looks for the offending object on the floor to give it an angry kick, and finds-

The magazine.

The magazine. The one he’d nicked from the dental surgery, the one Liam had nearly got in a fight over, all because of one tiny, glossy picture of Michael Clifford. He hasn’t looked at it since that day, too sober and too busy being yelled at every single minute of the day by Noel for playing too rough, or playing too clean, or playing at all. He hasn’t wanted to, either, hasn’t wanted to be confronted with the evidence that Michael’s carried on living without him, that he’s not that same seventeen year old boy that Calum had left behind in Sydney Airport half a decade ago.

That’s not to say he’s forgotten about it, though. Far from it - even in his pretty-much-permanently inebriated state, the little picture of Michael, stubble and all, has been playing around in the background of most of his thoughts. It’s easier to ignore when he’s with the others, when Noel’s snapping at him or screaming at Liam, when Bonehead’s rolling his eyes and passing him another joint, when Tony’s muttering about how Noel expects far too much of him, when Mark’s chivvying all of them to get up and get in the fucking studio, don’t they know they’re paying two thousand quid a day for this shit? It’s easier to focus on snapping at Noel, on stepping back from the brothers and leaving them to it, on taking a long toke from the joint, on ignoring Tony while whole-heartedly agreeing with him, on rolling his eyes as he shuffles into the live room and picks up his bass. He doesn’t have to think too hard, then, doesn’t have to let his thoughts stray from the here and now back to being seventeen and sun-kissed and in love.

Now, though, on his own, teetering on the brink of a comedown but still pleasantly drunk, Liam passed out and snoring gently on the bed a few feet away, Calum’s got nothing tying him down. There’s nothing for him to ground himself in, no stern, suspiciously-Noel-sounding voice in his mind telling him to stay fucking focused, or he’ll get a clip round the ear.

So, before he’s even really thought about it, Calum leans down and picks the magazine up, flipping straight to the page with the little picture of Michael on.

Even though he’s prepared this time, even though he knows he’s going to see Michael, older and broader and taller, his stomach still starts its best impersonation of a fucking Olympics tryout when his eyes find Michael at the bottom of the page. Christ. It’s like looking at someone Calum had seen every day for years at a train station, or maybe in a dream; he’s instantly recognisable but doesn’t quite match up to the mental image Calum’s got of him, lips a little plumper and eyes a little darker than Calum had expected. He looks like a mixture of someone so fucking familiar to Calum - the way he’s got his hands tucked in his pockets and his head tilted back a little - and someone Calum’s never met before, with the way his eyes are dark and almost hungry, the way his lashes are lowered slightly, the way he’s holding himself with such an air of confidence.

Calum sits down on the edge of his bed, disgusting taste in his mouth forgotten as he flips back to the first page of the article and starts to read. Mike, the singer calls him. Mike Clifford. It’s fucking ridiculous. Michael had always hated being called Mike, would always use his last vestiges of energy to lift his head from the toilet and protest weakly whenever Calum called him Mikey. The only time Calum had ever actually got away with calling him Mikey was when he was stroking his hair and Michael was crying into his chest, drunk and stoned and fucking miserable about Calum moving to the UK.

Mike’s our secret weapon, the singer (Damon, as Calum’s reminded) says, with an ‘air of confidence’, apparently. Calum briefly wonders what he means by that as his eyes flit to the next paragraph, mind lagging a few seconds behind. What kind of a war does he think they’re fighting?

Of course we’re a British band, Damon comments later on. We sing about British life, British experiences. Mike’s not penning songs about kangaroos and shrimps on barbies, is he? And anyway, he can outdrink the lot of us, which is what really matters. Are these really the best questions NME can come up with? Calum can’t help the way his lips twitch at that. That, at least, sounds like Michael.

It was serendipity, I think, Damon ‘muses’ a few paragraphs later, according to the journalist. We were looking for a second guitarist, and Mike had just moved over. He was living with Graham - he knew him through a friend from Sydney - and when Graham mentioned that he thought his band might need a second guitarist, Mike mentioned he could play.

It never came up in conversation before? the journalist asks, and Damon apparently ‘smiles wryly’.

That’s Mike for you, he allegedly says, with a shrug, and Calum feels a strange, hollow tug at his heart. Yeah. That is Michael. Anyway, he came along to a practice session and gelled perfectly with the rest of us. In fact, he brought some new ideas, a breath of fresh air that I think we needed. You know, the rest of us are four lads from the south who all grew up in similar circumstances and listened to similar music. I think we needed the different perspective.

That’s all Damon says about Michael. It leaves a sort of sour taste in Calum’s mouth - although, in fairness, that might just be the aftertaste of vomit - because this ‘Mike’ doesn’t sound like Michael, doesn’t feel like Calum’s- well. Whatever Michael ever was to him.

They’d never actually spoken about it. There had never been a conversation, an are you my boyfriend now, then, or what? They’d just both known - I’m yours, and you’re mine, and that’s all that matters. It had made it easier, Calum thinks, for him to justify it to himself when he got caught up in his new life, when Liam’s bright blue eyes started swimming in front of Michael’s sea-green ones, when harsh cackles were dubbed over soft laughter, when loud and brash northern accents started taking up more of his thoughts than gentle Australian twangs. We weren’t actually together, he’d told himself, every time he saw a letter in the post and his stomach twisted with guilt. You don’t owe him anything.

In fairness, it hadn’t just been him. Michael’s letters had stopped coming once a week, started coming once a fortnight, and then once a month. But it was Calum’s responses that got ever shorter, from pages and pages to a few half-hearted sentences, because Liam would often barge in halfway through and demand he comes down to the Boardwalk with him right fucking now, and it got harder and harder to justify to himself why he was giving up spending time with one of his best mates to write letters to a boy whose middle name he’d already started to forget. And it was Calum who had seen one last letter from Michael, tossed it on his desk to read later, and then forgotten about it until it was too late and his mum had already thrown it out. He’d barely cared, at the time, because Liam had crashed into his room, Calum’s mum tutting loudly at him from downstairs, and announced that he’d joined a band and they were the best band in the fucking world, and Calum should fucking join, and when Noel got back from tour he’d definitely join too, and they’d be the fucking second coming of the Beatles.

The guy staring at him from the picture, older and more confident, doesn’t seem like the same guy who’d sent Calum all those letters, telling him I miss you. I’m saving up to fly over to the UK. We’ll be together again, in a year or two. Don’t forget about me. It feels like there are two of him - Calum’s version, Michael, the boy who’d blink at Calum through dark, inky lashes and press soft kisses along his jawline, and this Blur version, Mike, the guy who stares back at Calum almost defiantly, like he’s daring him to keep looking.

Calum’s not sure whether it’s the drink or the drugs or whether it really is Michael, five years older and having grown into himself and built up a life without Calum, that’s making his stomach twist and turn and his heart sink like this. Or maybe it’s the guilt, all the love and regrets that Calum’s pushed down over the years and paved over with bricks of Liam and Noel and music, that’s stopping him from being able to tear his gaze away from the little Michael on the page, looking like he knows Calum’s eyes are glued to him.

Calum shifts, and in the near-silence of the room he hears something crinkle in his back pocket, and he frowns, lifting his hips up and fishing a messily-folded piece of paper out. He unfolds it, wondering whether he’s left a receipt or something in there, and finds two scrawled lines of text.

Noel’s lyrics.

It was serendipity, I think, the singer had said in the article, and Calum finds himself thinking the same thing as he stares down at the mostly-empty sheet of paper. Maybe this is supposed to mean something, he thinks. Probably just that his jeans are in desperate need of a wash.

There’s a guitar propped up next to Liam’s bed, one he’s been messing around on in what he says is boredom but Calum knows is an attempt to write something that Noel will throw a kind word or two at, and Calum’s grabbing it and setting it on his lap before he’s even really thought about it. He’s not a songwriter, never has been - he’s always wondered how the fuck Noel can retreat into a back room and come out half an hour later with a song like Supersonic - but right now, lyrics on one thigh, picture of Michael on the other, the words and the notes feel like they’re bursting to get out of his mind and down on paper.

Not for the first time, Calum’s glad Liam’s a deep sleeper, so he doesn’t have to lock himself in the too-big, too-empty living room to write. There’s something comforting about Liam’s presence, something that reminds Calum that he’s not alone, his deep breathing the thin line that ties Calum’s old life to his new life. Calum breathes along with him for a moment, a little drunkenly, like he’s trying to let as much of Liam as possible seep into his veins, maybe hoping he can absorb Liam’s don’t-give-a-fuck attitude and brash courage enough to get the words out without buckling under their weight.

There’s a pen on his bedside table, and he reaches over for it, uncaps it, holds it in his teeth, and starts to strum, humming along to the melody he’s had in his head since reading Noel’s lyrics. It only takes him a few minutes to find the right chord sequence, shifting into a key he knows Liam’ll be able to sing, because Calum knows he won’t be able to sing this himself. It needs a layer of removal, something that Calum can place between himself and the song and look at without having to look any further.

There we were now here we are All this confusion nothing’s the same to me There we were now here we are All this confusion nothing’s the same to me

I can’t tell you the way I feel Because the way I feel is oh so new to me I can’t sell you the way I feel Because the way I feel is oh so new to me What I heard is not what I hear I can see the signs but they’re not very clear What I heard is not what I hear I can see the signs but they’re not very clear

So I can’t tell you the way I feel Because the way I feel is oh so new to me I can’t sell you the way I feel Because the way I feel is oh so new to me

This is confusion, am I confusing you? This is confusion, am I confusing you? This is confusion, we don’t want to feel you This is confusion, we don’t want to feel you

The words almost seem to write themselves, ink on the page before Calum’s inebriated mind has even had time to think. Noel’s words slot in flawlessly as a chorus, the perfect contrast to Calum’s muddled, drunken musings, and it only takes about twenty minutes before the whole song’s done, every chord written, every word penned. And, to Calum’s surprise, it sounds really fucking good.

He sits back, fingers stilling on the strings, and stares down at the sheet of paper. The words look hasty, rushed, a little crooked, and Noel’s going to have questions about the shakiness of the letters, but that’s a problem for a later Calum.

He reads over it again while he’s still drunk enough to allow himself to, knowing he’ll hate it in the morning, and then puts the pen down to the paper again to write a title.

Confusion. No, that doesn’t sound right. It’s too vague, too impersonal. New to me. No, that’s a cop-out. Then and Now. No, that won’t be obvious enough.

And that’s it, Calum thinks, swallowing thickly. He wants it to be obvious. He wants Michael, and only Michael, to know that it’s about him, for him.

(“How will you know it’s me?” Calum remembers asking urgently one night, standing in the hallway on the phone to Michael, who had just called to mutter that he’s grounded, not allowed out, Calum needs to sneak in and make sure he makes it obvious that it’s him and not Luke or Ashton or else Michael won’t open his window. Apparently Luke, the sly little bastard, has taken to telling Michael it's Calum so Michael opens up for him.

“Say it’s- um-” Michael’s breaking up, and Calum clutches the phone closer to his ear like it’s going to make him any more audible.

“Say what?”

“Column-”

“Say it’s Column?” Calum’s incensed. “Michael, d’you fucking know how to pronounce my name?”

“Fucking- Columbia,” he makes out, and then the line goes dead.)

Calum only hesitates for a split second, enough for the tiny scrap of him that’s still sober tell him this is a terrible idea, and then the alcohol in his blood barges in, shouldering the remnant of his rational side out of the way and telling him do it, what the fuck have you got to lose? It’s a fucking great idea.

Yeah, Calum thinks wildly, as his pen touches the paper again. Fuck it. Michael probably won’t hear it, anyway.

Columbia.

-------

Calum plans to keep the song to himself, to sit on it and tell himself he’s agonising over whether or not to show Noel when he knows full well he’s got absolutely no intention of doing so, but, as though he can read Calum’s fucking mind, Noel corners him at lunchtime the next day.

“So,” he says, blocking Calum’s path out of the kitchen as Liam trails after Tony in the direction of the live room, complaining loudly that if he has to eat one more fucking ham and cheese sandwich he’s going to burn the fucking kitchen down. “That song. What’d you do to it?”

“What song?” Calum says, momentarily stumped. They’ve just been recording Slide Away, and Calum’s pretty sure he hasn’t fucked anything up so far. In fact, he’s absolutely fucking certain he hasn’t, because if Noel’s stopping them mid-recording to shout at Tony to tighten his floor tom then he’d definitely have thrown a fit over Calum playing a wrong note, or a fraction of a second too fast, or whatever.

“You know,” Noel says. “The one. From the other night.” He’s acting a little sketchy about it, a little guarded, and that’s what makes it click - oh. That song. The one Noel had been writing on his own in the kitchen at fucking five in the morning, and Calum had finished off at about three last night, drunk out of his mind.

“Oh,” Calum says, and he feels his expression shift into something just as evasive as Noel’s. “Uh. Yeah. I wrote something.”

“Well, let’s fucking hear it, then,” Noel says. Calum hesitates.

“Not in front of everyone else,” he says, because he knows the guitars are all in the live room, and by the time it’s cleared out Noel might have forgotten about the song altogether. Noel raises an eyebrow, but nods.

“My room,” he says.

“Now?” Calum says, looking down at his sandwich. “Can’t I fucking eat?”

“Now,” Noel confirms. “We’re on a tight fucking schedule, Cal.”

“Didn’t stop you spending half of Tuesday fucking off your head,” Calum shoots back. Noel just flips him off, like that’s a fucking answer, and walks out of the kitchen, presumably to fetch a guitar. Calum sighs, stomach sinking, because he hasn’t looked at the lyrics since he wrote them but he has a slightly hazy memory of knowing he’d hate them sober. He’s far too fucking hungover to stomach the fight that’s going to ensue if he refuses to play it to Noel, though, so he just sighs again, deep and resigned, shoves half the sandwich in his mouth and heads up to his room to pick up the sheet of paper with the lyrics and chords on.

Noel’s already in his room when Calum pushes the door open a little too roughly, perched on the edge of his bed, and he holds out his second-favourite acoustic guitar by the neck for Calum to take. Calum does, yanks it out of his hands to tell him I don’t fucking like that you’re making me do this without having to say it - not that Noel will care either way - and sits down on Bonehead’s bed, pulling the guitar into his lap and smoothing the sheet of paper in front of him so he won’t have to look at Noel.

“Right,” he says, and he can hear the nervousness in his own voice. “Don’t fucking laugh.”

“Won’t if it’s not worth laughing at,” Noel promises, which is as good as Calum’s going to get from him. He swallows, positions his fingers, and starts to play.

It sounds horrible, he thinks, as he’s playing. He has to try not to wince, because his voice cracks on the words as they drip with the kind of raw honesty that only a song written about his sort-of ex at three in the fucking morning, drunk and halfway between a high and a comedown, can summon. It’s too much for him, hearing his own voice sing the words that he doesn’t want to admit that he means, overwhelms him with the way it makes his heart clench in his chest to hear himself say nothing’s the same to me, and he has to stop before he can reach the end, stilling the strings and shrugging at Noel a little tensely.

“You get the gist,” he says. Noel blinks at him. He’s not laughing.

“That’s going on the album,” he says. Calum stares at him.

“You’re taking the piss,” he says flatly.

“D’you think I’d fucking take the piss about kicking one of my songs off the album to make room for yours? ” Noel says, and, yeah, that’s a good point.

“Well, I’m not singing it,” Calum says, before Noel gets any ideas. He’s not putting that out there, him singing a fucking half-love song for Michael. He'd have to be on every drug in the world to even get all the way through it.

“Why not?” Noel says.

“Can’t.”

“You fucking can. Just did.”

“I’m not fucking singing it, Noel.” Noel purses his lips, looking like he’s weighing up starting a fight with both Calum, who’s very clearly chosen this hill to die on, and Liam, who can’t stand feeling like a spare part, versus relenting and getting something he might not like as much musically but won’t potentially end in a trip to the hospital.

“It won’t sound as good,” he says, sounding annoyed, but that’s a concession from him.

“I’m arsed,” Calum says. Noel looks at him for a moment, hard, eyes flitting across every crevice of Calum’s face like he’s trying to find the weak link, and then he leans back with a sigh.

“You sound dead fucking British,” is all he says, a little too calmly for the conversation they've just had, and Calum feels like there’s something more to it that he should be able to pick out but can’t quite discern from the careful guardedness that fronts it.

“Been here five years, haven’t I?” he shoots back, feeling like he’s on the back foot, somehow.

“Wouldn’t even know you were Australian if you weren’t such a lightweight,” Noel says, and Calum rolls his eyes.

“Fuck off,” he says. “I could outdrink all five-two of you any day, Irish blood and all.” Noel flips him off, but his eyes still look far too calculating for Calum’s liking.

“You know Blur have an Australian guitarist?” he says, and Calum can see from the shrewd look in Noel’s eyes that that’s it, that’s what he’s been leading up to, and Calum’s stomach bottoms out.

“Oh?” he says, trying to straddle the line between interested enough and uninterested enough. There’s no way Noel can know, he tells himself, as his heart rate picks up. Calum’s never mentioned any of his mates back home to Noel before, let alone mentioned Michael. And even if he did, there’s no reason to make that assumption. Noel doesn’t even know Calum dates guys, and only knows he fucks them because of one night three years ago that neither of them speak about.

“Mm,” Noel hums. “He’s from Sydney.” He doesn’t say anything else, states it like it’s just an interesting tidbit of information, but the implication is clear. Maybe you know him. A challenge, or maybe a test.

“So’s a quarter of Australia,” Calum says, pleased with how cool and collected he sounds. Noel cocks his head.

“Weird, though, isn’t it?” he says. “What’re the odds?”

“Since when are you all fucking superstitious?” Calum asks. Noel shrugs.

“Just think it’s a strange coincidence,” he says lightly. “Two British bands with Australian members, fighting to be number one.”

“Who’s fighting to be number one?” Calum says. “We haven’t even released a single.”

“Yeah, but anything we release’ll be better than their shite,” Noel says derisively, eyes narrowing, and Calum exhales quietly, because it means the moment’s passed. “Girls who like boys who do boys, or whatever. Fucking shite.” Calum rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, like ‘I’m feeling supersonic, give me gin and tonic’ is any better,” he says, and Noel scowls and kicks at Calum’s shin.

“Just you fucking wait,” Noel says, and it sounds like a fucking threat, like Calum’s going to be held personally responsible if Supersonic doesn’t go to number one. Which, knowing Noel, is a distinct possibility.

“I’ll fucking wait,” Calum tells him, setting the guitar aside.

“Eeyar, what d’you think you’re doing with that?” Noel says, nodding at the guitar. “If you don’t want to sing it, you’ll have to play it to our kid.” The thought makes Calum’s stomach clench. He never wants to sing the fucking song ever again. In fact, he wishes he'd never sung it to Noel in the first place, wishes he'd just dealt with the taunts and jeers that would have come from Noel if he'd thought Calum hadn't been able to get a song down. It'd still be more bearable than having to listen to his own drunken, honest thoughts spilling from his sober lips.

“You really want to put it on the fucking album?” he says, and he can’t help the note of doubt that creeps into his tone. It's a good song, yeah - really fucking good, actually - but is it as good as Noel's?

“It’s good,” Noel says, which, from Noel, might as well be a declaration that it belonged on the White Album.

“Not as good as yours,” Calum says. Noel fixes him with a stare, a really, don’t you fucking dare make me say it’s better than one of mine kind of stare, and Calum sighs. It is a good song - it’s definitely better than Cloudburst, might even be better than Sad Song - but he’s not sure he can go through playing it to Liam, Bonehead and Tony. Playing it to Noel was fucking bad enough.

“Play it to our kid,” Noel says again, like he can read the exact thoughts behind Calum’s stricken expression. “I’ll sort out parts for Tony and Bonehead.”

Calum loves him.

-------

(Liam frowns at him when he trails off halfway through the bridge.

“That’s fucking mega, that is,” he says, but his tone doesn’t match his words.

“Cheers,” Calum says, and swallows thickly. Liam doesn’t say anything else, even though Calum can tell from the way his fingers are twitching that he wants to, just hesitates and then sighs and pulls Calum into a tight hug.)

-------

They finish recording the album in mid-March. It’s their second attempt, and it still sounds wrong, so their record label, in one last-ditch attempt to save it, send it off to Owen Morris for mixing.

Noel’s progressed beyond irate and lashing out at any and all of them for fucking up his precious album to complete despondence, retreating into himself, sitting staring silently out of the car window as they get driven back up to Manchester, not even rising to the bait when Bonehead threatens to steal his Sergeant Pepper vinyl. In the strange, symbiotic way that the brothers have - or maybe just because they’d shared a room for sixteen years and Liam had been at the receiving end of enough of Noel’s tantrums to know how to cope with them - Liam seems to know exactly what Noel needs. He sits close to him, throws an arm around him, pulls him in so Noel’s head is resting on Liam’s shoulder, but doesn’t say anything, carries on normal conversation with the rest of them with a slight edge to his tone, like he’s challenging any of them to fucking comment on the state Noel’s in. They all know better than that, of course. Anyone who’s spent more than thirty seconds in either of the Gallaghers’ presence would know better than that.

When they get back to Manchester, predictably dull and drizzling slightly, they all head off in their separate directions; Liam and Noel to Noel’s flat, Bonehead to the flat he shares with his girlfriend, Tony back to his parents’ house. Calum, too, heads back to the boring little two-up two-down he’s spent the past five years in.

“You look a state,” is how his mum greets him when he drags his bags out of the car and up the garden path. She holds her arms out for a hug and Calum hesitates for a moment - he knows he reeks of last night’s alcohol with maybe a pinch of stale weed added to the mix - but she gives him a stern look and he relents, wrapping his arms around her and inhaling the familiar scent of home-cooking and books.

“You smell terrible,” she says disapprovingly, when he pulls away. Calum shrugs.

“I’ll shower when I get in,” he says.

“You’ll fix the wall first,” she says, and Calum sighs. Not the fucking wall.

“Not the fucking wall,” he mutters, and his mum tuts at him, but steps aside to let him into the house.

“Your dad’s outside already,” she says, as Calum drops his bags next to the stairs.

“He’s not tried to do anything to the wall, has he?” Calum says, because if his dad’s had anything to do with it, Calum’s going to have his work cut out for him.

“He said he was just going to take a look,” his mum says, and Calum swears under his breath and heads for the back door. His dad has never quite grasped that ‘just taking a look’ doesn’t require prodding and poking and, on one memorable occasion, a blowtorch.

As Calum had expected, his dad is frowning at a section of collapsed wall, a mortar board piled high with badly-mixed mortar in one hand and a brick trowel in the other.

“Fucking hell, dad,” Calum says, jogging up and snatching the mortar board out of his hands, making his dad whip around in surprise.

“Hello to you too,” he says mildly. “How was Cornwall?”

“Great,” Calum says, and takes a step back so his dad won’t smell the booze on him. “What the fuck are you doing to the wall?”

“I saved the bricks that fell out,” his dad, gesturing at a haphazard pile a few metres away. “I was going to use those to fix it.”

“Not with this, you weren’t,” Calum says, brandishing the mortar. “I’ll mix some more tomorrow. And you can’t be laying bricks in the rain.” His dad looks up at the sky.

“It’s just drizzle,” he says.

“It’s enough,” Calum says. His dad looks at him for a moment, wavering between son, if I say the wall needs fixing the wall needs fixing and you do actually know what you’re doing, before sighing and holding his hands up in defeat.

“Fine,” he says. “But your mum will have my balls if it’s not done first thing tomorrow.”

“She’ll have your balls if you do it in the rain and it falls apart again in three weeks, too,” Calum tells him.

“At least I’ll get three extra weeks with my balls, then,” his dad says as they make their way back inside, and Calum snorts.

“That was quick,” he hears his mum shout from the kitchen, a little reprovingly, as Calum sets the mortar board down on the table. He’ll deal with it later.

“It’s raining,” Calum shouts back.

“It’s what?” his mum calls, turning down the upbeat, almost disco song playing on the radio.

“It’s raining,” Calum repeats. “Can’t lay bricks in the rain.”

“It’s only drizzling.”

“D’you want to go and fucking do it, then?” Calum says, exasperated, and his mum pops her head out of the kitchen with a frown.

“Calum,” she reprimands, and he sighs. He needs to fucking shower, and then sleep for about seven years until his liver’s had a chance to process at least half of the shit he’s ingested over the past few weeks.

“Sorry,” he says, and he means it. “I’m going to go and shower.” His mum nods, and her head disappears again, and he hears the radio turn up again. The song’s finishing up, something about how it always should be someone you really love, and Calum finds himself nodding along as he heads for the stairs and picks up his bags. It’s catchy, he thinks, and not like anything he’s heard in a while. Maybe he should recommend it to Noel; he could do with nicking ideas off someone other than Paul McCartney once in a while.

“And that was Blur, with Girls and Boys,” the radio host announces as the song starts to fade out, and Calum’s fingers slip in the handle of the bag in his right hand, causing it to fall on his foot. He curses under his breath, trying to think about the pain rather than the way his heart’s skipped a beat.

“Calum?” his mum calls from the kitchen. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, mum, sorry,” he shouts back, wincing and flexing his foot, steadying himself on the banister with his now-free hand as he tries to listen to the radio over the pounding in his ears. Another song’s started now, though, and Calum shakes himself out of it, picking up the bag and heading up the stairs to have an excuse for his racing heart and heavy breathing.

It feels fucking weird, he thinks, dumping his bags on the floor of his room and throwing himself down on the bed, to have heard Michael without hearing him. He would have paid more attention to the song if he’d known he was listening to Michael’s fingers pick out those notes. He can still hear the riff in his mind, bouncing around as it tries to find its way out but enclosed in a bubble of Michael like a good portion of Calum’s thoughts have been for the past few weeks. It doesn’t feel quite right, though, Michael’s guitar playing on Calum’s radio in Manchester. It feels like Mike, not Michael, and the thought makes him feel a little queasy.

He rolls over, staring at the blank wall in front of him as he waits for his heart to slow down. Always should be someone you really love, the guy - what was it, Damon? - had sung. It feels like a fucking joke, now, leaves a bitter taste in Calum’s mouth that that line is the first he’s heard of Michael in five fucking years. It’s like the universe is just having its way with him and laughing about it.

(It was serendipity, I think, Damon had said in the article, but Calum tries not to let the idea cross his mind.)

-------

Supersonic is, in fact, as Liam and Noel crow at least five times a day, fucking mega.

The single comes out in early April, when they’re in Middlesbrough, or maybe Stoke, or maybe Leeds - somewhere northern, cold, wet, and miserable. It’s played on the radio a few times, and it makes something warm spread from Calum’s heart to his toes every time he can pick out his own bass, every time he hears Noel’s lazy solo, Liam’s gravelly drawl, Bonehead’s overdriven chords. Even Tony’s drumming makes him grin, giddy on the high that’s him, them, him and his three best mates (and Tony) coming together to create something that, fuck whatever the charts say, sounds fucking good. It’s raw and it’s rough around the edges and it’s melodic and it’s dirty, and it’s ‘fucking rock ‘n’ roll’ if Liam ever gets half a second to comment on it, but, more than all of that, it’s them and Calum loves it.

It doesn’t do amazingly, but none of them even care, because they know it’s good. Noel’s already busy arguing with Marcus at the record label about whether Shakermaker or Live Forever should be the next single, shouting at him on the phone whenever they get somewhere with a payphone. The tour’s going well, too; there’s not been a venue they haven’t sold out yet, and the crowd actually know all the songs, now, screaming out the words whenever Liam takes a break for a swig of beer.

They’re playing Glastonbury in June, which Noel seems to think is the fucking be all and end all of their entire career despite the fact that they’ve released one album. He’s taken it upon himself to ensure that every waking minute that they’re not playing shows or off their heads on whatever substances they’ve been able to put up their noses is spent with him telling them in minute detail exactly how he’s going to skin them alive if they miss one more beat or hit the wrong string one more time. Even Liam isn’t safe, despite his lack of a proper instrument, after missing one of the higher notes in Supersonic one night in Liverpool. Calum’s never believed in God, but he thinks the fact that he was rooming with Tony and the brothers were rooming with each other that night, screaming at each other out of Calum's earshot, might be evidence of divine intervention.

Further potential evidence for the existence of God comes in the form of an invitation to an awards show to be held in early June, which is the only thing that could possibly have appeased Noel. It doesn’t stop him shouting at Liam for fucking breathing, or whatever it happens to be that hour, but it placates him enough to keep the band together, which is what matters. He starts writing like crazy, and by late May already has six songs that he claims are good enough for their second album, and Calum’s floored when Noel rips the curtain to his bunk open one night and shoves an unfinished song at him with a look on his face that says if you fucking tell anyone about this, I’ll have your balls. I’ll fucking have them.

(“D’you think me growing up in Australia brings a different perspective to the band?” Calum had asked the previous day, thinking of the interview he’d read with Damon, and Noel had snorted, not even looking up from his guitar.

“Do I fuck,” he’d said. “I’m the fucking genius here. Why, ‘s someone been telling you you’re important? Do I need to remind you that you barely even play an instrument?” Calum rolls his eyes and flips him off, but it settles his stomach a little to know that Noel's not giving him the songs because of some abstract musical perspective, but because of his talent. And, maybe, because Noel might just be a little fond of him.)

The awards show isn’t anything huge, not NME or anyone that Liam thinks matters, but Noel tells them that it’s the principle, that the fact that they’re being nominated for awards is what counts, and that they’ll fucking well show up. Liam still looks like he’s going to argue about it, probably just because his instinct to do the opposite of whatever Noel tells him overrides even his survival instinct, but he grudgingly agrees to go when Calum reminds him about all the free alcohol that’s sure to be there.

The ceremony’s much bigger than Calum had expected, held in a theatre that’s had the stalls cleared out to make room for tables for artists and their teams to sit at. They’re shown to a table on the far right of the room, and Calum sees names like Elastica and Björk on the tables they pass on their way, which makes him think that this might actually be a bigger deal than they’d thought it was. Their table is tucked away in a corner, which Calum thinks probably isn’t a good sign, but can’t bring himself to care that much about when he sees the three bottles of champagne waiting for them.

They’re tipsy before the show’s even begun, barely even noticing the room filling behind them as they call for more champagne, grinning and yelling at each other across the table as they all think fuck me, we’re really doing this, then? Even Noel somehow manages to dislodge the stick from his arse and laugh along when Liam starts heckling every single act that wins an award. It’s just fucking fun, Calum thinks, watching Noel and Liam put their arms around each other and yell the lyrics to Creep as Radiohead win an award, changing out half of the words for increasingly creative variants of words for certain parts of the male anatomy. It’s just a good fucking time with his best mates.

Liam’s so caught up in the heckling, yelling rubbish! Fucking rubbish! before the winners have even been announced, and they’re all so caught up in laughing at him that they don’t even realise they’ve won an award until Marcus glares at them pointedly, and they realise that the reason they suddenly can’t see properly is because there’s a spotlight on them.

“Best live act!” Noel shouts, grinning, and Calum shoots up and out of his seat and is hugging Noel and Bonehead, jumping up and down, before he can even think about it. Best live act, fucking hell.

“Rubbish!” Liam’s yelling, sounding absolutely irate. “Fucking rubbi- oh, that’s us.” He stands up calmly, flashing Marcus a winning smile as he walks past on his way to the stage, and the rest of them follow in his wake.

“Best fucking live act,” Noel repeats, like he can’t quite believe it. Their first fucking award. "That's all me, that is."

“You wanker, you’re rubbish,” Liam tells him, as they jog up the stairs onto the stage. “You can’t even play the guitar.” Noel cuffs him upside the head, but he’s still grinning, and Liam grins back at him as they walk over to accept their awards, shake a lot of sweaty hands, and make their acceptance speech.

“Right, then, who’s first then?” Liam says, leaning into the microphone and pulling his sunglasses down to survey the crowd. “It’s gotta be you there with that weird haircut. How many haircuts you got there, four?” He leans back as the crowd laughs, looking deadpan, but Calum can see the way his lips twitch as he soaks up the laughter and smattering of applause. Calum shakes his head, grinning, and looks out at the sea of faces looking back at him, trying to really absorb the moment, anchor himself so he’ll remember it tomorrow despite the champagne. There are a few people he recognises, which feels fucking insane - that’s fucking Robbie Williams, over there, presumably sat with the rest of the blokes from Take That whose names he doesn’t know, and he thinks he can make out the singer of Radiohead in the corner, and there’s the frontwoman of Elastica, and next to her is that Damon guy from Blur, and-

Oh, fuck.

Noel’s moved on to speaking now, a little more seriously than Liam - which isn’t saying much given that he’s currently in the middle of thanking himself for being such a genius and writing such impeccable songs - but the words are washing over Calum as his eyes flit to Damon’s left, taking in the moody-looking dark-haired guy and the ginger guy, and then to his right, a dark-haired guy in glasses and-

And Michael.

Calum thinks his legs might fucking give out. Staring back at him, eyes wide and jaw clenched, is Michael. Michael Clifford. His Michael. Fucking hell.

In the bright lights, Calum can see the tension in Michael’s shoulders, the way he’s sort of hunched into himself, sort of sat up straight, like he’s ready for a fight. He can see the shock on Michael’s face, the underlying hurt and pain in the twist of his lips, the way his fist is clenched on the table. He looks nothing like Calum had ever envisioned when imagining them reuniting, no carefree laughter and bright, joyful eyes. Calum’s sure he doesn’t look much better, lips slightly parted in surprise, pure horror written all over his face, but he can’t bring himself to care when Michael’s right there, in front of him, five years older and five years prettier, making Calum’s heart skip and race like it’s singlehandedly trying to win the fucking World Acrobatics Championship of 1994.

Liam’s taken the mic back off Noel to add a quick thank you to the people who voted for them, and then Noel’s clapping him on the back as they walk offstage, but Calum’s rooted to the fucking spot, can’t take his eyes off Michael. Neither of them are blinking, and as the lights sweep from the audience to them Calum almost loses Michael in the darkness, just sees the slight gleaming of his eyes, still fixed on Calum.

“Fucking come on,” Noel nigh-on shouts in his ear, startling Calum out of it, and his feet unstick themselves as Noel puts his hand on the small of Calum’s back, guiding him off the stage. Calum tears his gaze away, looks down at his feet so he won’t trip down the stairs, and by the time he’s got to the bottom and is looking out into the sea of faces again, he’s lost Michael. He searches in vain all the way back to their table, trying to map out just how far to the right the Blur table is from the Oasis one based on where it had been in relation to the stage, but then Liam’s in front of him, waving an award in his face and grinning inanely, and Calum’s line of sight is blocked by Bonehead jumping on Liam’s back, and Noel’s shouting something at the three of them through a smile, and Calum’s being forced into his seat.

The rest of the ceremony passes in a haze. Liam carries on heckling every act that gets up on stage, waving his award around over his head like it’ll somehow further his point, and Noel almost cries laughing at the sight of him until Liam’s fingers slip and the trophy goes flying and hits Noel smack in the face. Even that isn’t enough to get more than the ghost of a smile out of Calum, whose stomach is still twisting, eyes still flitting across the crowd, breath still catching every time a new award is announced just in case Michael will have to walk past their table, traipse up the stairs to their right, look down at Calum from the stage. Blur don’t win anything, though, much to the brothers’ delight, and as soon as they realise it’s winding down Liam’s saying something about an afterparty and trying to get up and leave before the ceremony’s officially ended. Tony grabs his arm and pulls him back down, mutters something about taking photos that both Noel and Liam scoff at, but one look from their management is enough to keep the two of them in their seats, albeit with glowers and grumbles.

The hosts close the awards in the most long-winded way Calum’s ever seen, and then they’re being ushered into some back room to take photos along with all the other acts. Noel and Liam are drunker than Calum’s seen them in months, shouting and laughing and throwing their arms around each other and pressing kisses to anyone who dares walk within five metres of them, and, seeing how irritated the rest of the acts and the photographer are at their antics, they ramp it up, yelling and screaming and singing until everyone’s shooting them filthy looks and Calum’s almost managing a proper smile. His eyes have been roaming the room since they got in, looking past the miserable looking bloke from Radiohead because he thought he’d seen a flash of blonde that had turned out to be Robbie Williams’ terrible haircut, but either Blur have already been and gone or they’re still hanging around outside.

“Cal,” Liam shouts, and then Calum’s being pulled into a headlock - quite a fucking feat, actually, because it’s Noel doing the headlocking, and he’s a good half-foot shorter than Calum. “What d'you reckon, eh? Best band on the fucking planet!”

“Don’t think that was quite what they said,” Calum says, and Noel ruffles his hair before letting him go, just enough that Calum can stand up straight, and wrapping an arm around Calum’s waist. Calum leans into it, a little unsteady from the alcohol and Michael, relishing the comfort of a steady anchor to counter the way he feels so fucking unbalanced from seeing Michael in the flesh again after five years.

“You’ve got to read between the lines , Cal,” Liam says earnestly. “They might not’ve said it, but it’s what they meant.”

“Eeyar,” Noel says suddenly, grinning wickedly. “Is that who I think it is?” Liam twists, following Noel’s gaze, and Calum does the same, turning to the door and finding-

“‘S fucking Dermot All-bran!” Liam crows, cackling gleefully as Damon’s eyes flit to the three of them. He smiles, pretty and polite, and heads in their direction, and as he comes through the door with the woman from Elastica in tow, four more people file in behind him - ginger guy, moody guy, glasses guy, and, to the detriment of Calum’s heartbeat, Michael.

“Congratulations,” Damon calls, nodding at the award in Liam’s hand. He’s almost reached them, and the rest of his band are trailing behind him, and Calum’s heart is beating so fucking fast and loud that he can barely hear Liam screaming next to him over the pounding in his ears as he watches Michael get closer and closer, carefully avoiding Calum’s burning gaze.

“Fucking right,” Liam says proudly. “Fucking best band in the world, we are. Real rock ‘n’ roll stars. Not like you posh fucking wankers.” The guy in glasses behind Damon rolls his eyes, and something that looks like irritation flashes across Damon’s face, but Calum barely cares.

Michael’s still not looking at him, all of three feet away, and Calum’s skin is fucking crawling, itching with the desire to reach out and touch him, to force him to look at Calum, to slot their fingers and their legs and their lips together again, just to see if they still fit. Fuck, he shouldn’t have drunk all that champagne.

“Don’t think we’ve met,” the tall guy says, holding out a hand. “I’m Alex. This is Graham-” glasses guy, who nods tightly, “-and Dave-” ginger guy, who holds up a hand in an awkward wave, “-and you know Damon. And our resident Australian, Mike.”

“Looks like a cunt,” Liam remarks, and Calum vaguely registers Noel and Bonehead laughing next to him, loud and giddy and a little spiteful.

“Ours is better than yours, anyway,” Noel says, arm tightening around Calum, somewhere between defensive and proud. Damon raises an eyebrow, a definite challenge in his eyes now.

“Is that so?” he says, and in the two years since Calum last heard him speak he’s forgotten how different his speaking voice is to how he sings, eloquent and deep and rich. It’s a secondary thought, though, because Calum’s still staring at Michael, willing him to take his eyes off Damon and look at Calum for just one fucking second, but Michael’s face remains carefully blank, and the closest he gets to looking at Calum is sending Liam a scornful glance.

“Aye, ‘course it is, you prick,” Liam says, brash and careless, and Damon turns to Calum.

“Calum, isn’t it?” he says. Calum tears his gaze away from Michael for a moment, enough to see the way Damon’s holding himself, and that whatever Calum says next is going to form Damon’s entire opinion of him.

“Yeah,” Calum says, aiming for bold and confident to match Liam, because that’s where his loyalties lie now, and hopes no one else can hear how dry his throat is.

“Didn’t you have a mate in Sydney called Calum?” Damon says, almost idly, turning to Michael. “Was he the one that moved to the UK?” Calum watches the line of Michael’s throat as he swallows, and tries not to superimpose the bruises his lips had left there the night before he’d left Australia for the first and last time on top of it.

“Yeah,” he says, and Calum’s heart fucking splinters at the sound of his voice. Even in that one syllable, he can hear his Michael, the same tone and sound and depth, but there’s a new edge to it, something slower and more controlled than the wild seventeen-year-old Calum had left behind. The years without Calum have added a gloss to him, a new confidence in his voice and his expression and how he holds himself, and Calum just wants Michael to fucking look at him.

Fuck it, he thinks - or maybe the champagne thinks for him - and he swallows.

“Hey, Michael,” he says quietly, and all hell breaks loose.

taglist: @callmeboatboy @sadistmichael @clumsyclifford @angel-cal @tirednotflirting @cthofficial @tigerteeff @haikucal @queer-5sos @i-am-wierd-always @stupidfukimgspam @bloodyoathcal @pixiegrl @pxrxmoore @currentlyupcalsass @clumthood

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chapter three

#malum #5sos fic #5sos fanfic #5sos fanfiction #5sos slash #i actually have some TIME tonight to chat i will be back #thats a threat i will be returning #my laptop is like freaking out at the number of tabs i have open right now but what am i supposed to do close them?#absolutely not #theres also a huge insect in my room and i have to wait for it to leave the door or i'm trapped in my room #none of these tags are antyhing to do with the fic i'm sorry i'm just stream of consciousness in here #ignore me my brain is malfunctioning #i hope everyone is doing well i miss being active here i'm so fucking BUSY atm #but come friday i will be back for good #Back for good by take that is a banger #okay i'm seriously going to shut up now please read my breakdown

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bestwishes86 · 4 years

Text

A snippet from "The Audition" leave comments and critiques

Best of Me : Book One – Moon

Chapter One – The Audition

One Thousand is the number of head shots and resumes the thirty two year old director and her best friend and sister Luna had looked through for two days while drinking glasses of wine and smoking countless cigarettes. Together the pair had consumed nine bottles of something French before culling that number down to two hundred. Luna, the natural beauty with skin the color of green tea with too much milk in it had done the real leg work. Her fingers were numb from all the typing and retyping of all the names and seeing who had been used in prior work. Who had made 'experimental films' and who had nudes anywhere on the internet. Over dinner the pair had cackled like hens as they watched the films and decided whose penis was the best and whose was the worst.

Any name they found was instantly rejected and the head shot and resume thrown into the shredder. Valentina longed for the day when these celebrity wannabes wised up enough to know.

“Why give it away for free if someone will pay for it,”

Barring those had swiftly brought the candidates list down. But then she was left with two hundred men who she had to pair with the two leading men of the Lakorn film movement, She looked at Luna, the milk tea goddess was dressed in one of her muscle bound husbands shirts which fit her like a dress two sizes too large. Her long thin legs draped across the arm of the brown leather couch while she was on the phone with the hotel they would use for the venue. The shirt, a white with black stripes button down complimented her skin and long, dyed ruby red hair which fell around her half halo face in waves.

Valentina had born as a boy whose name was Kerrin. Kerrin had once been an actor in her early days in the business. She had been born a male, with a femininity that made her stand out from her all boy's school classmates. It had been this that caused them to tease her and hate her. But there was no denying that as a boy she had been sexy. Large doe eyes, high cheek bones, a small button nose and natural light skin the bravest boys would try and share her time. They would secretly be nice to her. It had confused her then because those same boys had been the ones to spit on her or call her names. Her sister Luna had suggested she try acting, since she could lie to their loving and caring parents about her time in school to the point they believed her. Why not? And she did.

Soon her face as Kerrin was one many knew. The soap opera he starred in took off. Money came easy enough then. But she hated every second of it. Smiling for the camera, seeing that stranger's face where her's should be. It had been her wish back then to die. But instead she did the next best thing. She paid an obscene amount of money to a doctor who cut away any trace of Kerrin. It was painful the numerous surgeries, the days of bed rest, the rehabilitation. But what had hurt the worst was when she had gone to see her parents and they had hit and cursed her. Only Luna had defended her and called the man who at that time was named Perth who kicked in the door and beat her father while she lay on her side. Bleeding from where her father's foot had stomped on her head. This was the 2000's and plastic surgery wasn't what it is now, the damage done had called for another round of surgeries and this time Perth had paid for those. But two years later Valentina was born from the boy who never had been in love.

“Val did you fall sleep with your eyes open again,” Luna's soft concern snapped her out of her revelry.

“No just remembering Kerrin, sorry what were you saying,” Valentina asked looking at the empty bottle of wine and wondering if it was too late in the evening for food. Beauty came at a cost and for her it was the freedom to eat whenever she wanted. Standing at six foot without heels, her body was taut from hours in the gym daily, her breasts small and perky and her ass the shape of a healthy apple. She wanted to keep everything in the right place and the right shape.

“Bond is coming tomorrow is that ok,” Luna asked again and Valentina nodded while internally cringing. Luna went back to the phone conversation while Valentina rose from the couch she had been sitting on and walked to the window like wall of glass that framed the loft apartment on one side. Her simple white dress flowed around her as if she were Sailor Moon which was secretly her spirit animal. Her hip length golden blond hair was styled in a similar manner and her eyes were reshaped to look Japanese instead Thai. She reached to the small end table made of glass and metal by her personal couch and picked up her rose gold Iphone and dialed the long password to the phone. Her work phone lay in her work bag, her personal phone was one that only two people had the numbers for. Luna and Titan. They were her friends and the only people she considered family. She tapped Titan's name long changed from Perth and put the phone to her ear as she watched the rain fall down on the city twenty stories below her.

“Hello Beautiful, how was day drinking.” a deep yet soft voice teased her and she felt her eyebrows come together.

“Terrible without my husband, how was your day? Bed any new costars or is it pop singers this year?” Valentina cooed back. The two had known each other since they were little boys, and he had been the only one besides Luna happy to meet Valentina.

“A Gentlemen doesn't kiss and tell,” Titan said back without skipping a beat.

“I'm sorry I must have the wrong number, I thought I was calling Titan the man who couldn't keep his pants up if they were sewn to his skin. Not a Gentleman, I will let you go then,” Valentina said and was surprised by her own tone of voice. The mere mention of the name Bond did this too her.

“Whoa whoa who has got my wife in this state, I will break his legs,” Titan said with amusement but a serious undertone.

“If only you had when you had the chance,' Valentina said and pressed her forehead to the glass.

“What has Bond done now...?” Titan asked knowing instantly who she was thinking of.

“Nothing yet, But you know Bond. He insists on attending the auditions tomorrow. Probably to scare away your future costar.”Valentina said calmer now that the cool glass was touching her skin. Maybe she had drunk too much on an near empty stomach.

“I will be there.” Titan said and Valentina felt a smile cross her face. When they had been children Perth had always come to her aid. No matter how many boys had her cornered Perth would fight for her. Somethings never changed, even if she had.

“No you won't you have costume fitting at the same time as the auditions,” Valentina reminded him as she moved back from the glass and switched over to speaker phone.

“My measurements haven't changed in ten years. I will be there to keep Bond out of your hair like a good man should. Speaking of, have you been on any dates lately,” Titan asked the open air and Luna snorted sitting up at the sound of that question.

“Excuse me...!?” Valentina asked shocked at the question.

“Well neither of us are getting any younger my love and I worry that you're intentionally warding off men with your moods,” Titan explained and Valentina wanted to drop her phone and step on it. Perth had never cared if Kerrin had liked men or women, and made a point to find every boy in the school who preferred steak to chicken and bring them round. None met what he called Kerrin's standards when in all honesty each time it had hurt. Because all Kerrin had wanted was Perth. Now Valentina was nearing that time in her life where honesty and lies were almost the same thing. And still all she wanted was Titan.

“Twenty years later and I still want to throttle you,” Valentina said through gritted teeth.

“But you love me too much to do it, I know. But maybe you should share that love with someone who deserves it.” Titan said and there was no joking in his tone.

“Is this because my birthday is coming up, the one we aren't celebrating,” Valentina asked feeling a rising sense of fear at the mention of it. Titan had always gone out of his way to make her birthday special. And it unnerved her the level of care and effort he put into them. Each year it gave her hope that he would kiss her and she knew that was a silly fantasy.

“You only turn twenty nine 3 times, we agreed this year you become thirty. How can I not use some of the money I made starring in your shows to shower you with unwanted attention from people you believe hate you,” Titan sing songed and Luna giggled and Valentina shot her a death glare.

“Fine Fine, I become Thirty and you and Luna get to see my youth wither and dry, is thirty too soon for menopause?”Valentina asked and all three laughed openly and all thoughts of Bond were forgotten.

---

Valentina is inspired by the Thai transwoman - Blossum and Titan is inspired by Earth P

#novel writing #gay fic #boylove #thai drama #romance #gay writing #gay author #gaylove #gayfic #gay #gaylife #gay men #earth pirapat #i love earth

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ladyshilya · 4 years

Text

Roswell New Mexico: Ladies and Gentlemen We Are Floating in Space.

Let’s see how Liz is going to get Max back and how Rosa is going to stop her sister from doing it. Also how Isobel is going to handle being pregnant by her sociopath ex.

The group minus Maria is waiting outside an abandon lab for Alex who has all the equipment and body parts they need. The group sets up the lab so Liz can begin her research. Isobel begins working with a martial arts instructor.

Rosa is dealing with the fact she is basically a ghost. She can’t see anyone and has to sneak around. Rosa has a dream that she is getting a drink in Maria’s bar but Max asks her why she hasn’t stopped Liz yet. Its apparently because Max feels like he is burning up inside. I thought it was for some bigger reason but is seems Mac just wants to fully die. Rosa reminds Max that Liz won’t stop at anything.

While the team is dealing with all of this Maria is putting up posters for her missing mother. Michael has been getting visions of his mother when he has been working.

Isobel finds the alien poison that almost kills her and she wonders why Liz has it. Liz has it only for research purposes, which does make sense. Isobel takes some of the poison. I am guessing she is planning on using the poison the on the baby.

While Rosa is sneaking around she see Michael and Wyatt Long get into a fight because he used one of Maria’s missing posters to wipe gum off his shoe. Rosa looks at a video Wyatt posted where he is completely racist again Rosa’s family since his sister was one of the girls killed. Liz uses the phone she gave Rosa to track her when she was not at Max’s house. Rosa yells at Liz for not telling her the truth about her funeral and how the town hates her because they think she killed those girls. When the cops show up they catch Liz with a spray paint can in her hand right next to the graffiti Rosa did.

Liz tries to call Michael while she is in jail because she needs him to get to the lab but Michael was also arrested. Sheriff Valenti questions Liz about Noah’s murder and why she has been visiting Max’s house. Liz says its because she is hoping he will come back so she can make things right with him. Rosa texts Kyle who finds her at a church. Kyle explains what happened after death.

Isobel’s mother takes her to a Woman is Worrier retreat lead my Maria. Isobel is not very happy to be there but when it comes time for Isobel to throw her fear in the fire she has a hard time. Because her fear is the baby. Maria helps her let go and throw the paper in the fire. At home Isobel takes a drop of the alien poison hoping to free herself from the baby.

Kyle runs into the Chief of Surgery’s daughter at the hospital twice. Once when she is looking over his shoulder at the reports about Rosa. Kyle is concerned about the error that was found. The second time was when he was watching a surgery and she didn’t seem to really care. Honestly I won’t have cared about their interactions at all but she nail polish remover on her. While she might have been doing her nails, I was not paying super attention. Nail polish remover is an alien thing so I am always on alert when I see another person with it.

Liz confronts Rosa about her sneaking around but Rosa doesn’t care. All she cares about is the damage Max’s actions did to her family. Rosa wants to know why Liz wants to save Max when everyone hates her and their family because of his cover up. Rosa walks away from Liz. Rosa goes into the diner and her old room. She doesn't find the sketch book she was looking for but she does find a bottle of tequila.

Rosa falls asleep and Max talks to her again. Rosa doesn’t care he is pain because Liz won’t stop until she saves him. Since Max is connected to Rosa and can’t leaver her alone Rosa starts drinking from the bottle she found because she didn’t dream when she was high. Max is shocked with Rosa disappears almost like she was in his dream.

Michael visits Alex because he wants his help with finding out more about his mom. Michael mom’s name was Nora and she was the last alien admitted. It means there might be people out there who knew her. When Alex tries to get close to Michael, Michael tells him no and that he want to be with Maria. Alex says is he had a chance to be with Maria he would choose her too. I am sure that is just Alex’s low self esteem showing up. I want to believe it is Alex saying he understands Michael choosing her and that would be accepting of a polyam relationship.

Michael puts his trailer in the parking lot of the bar Maria works at because she has been sleeping there wait for her mom. Michael apologizes and tells Maria he wants her. Maris decides they can try it out on a casual non-exclusive basis but no making out with Lindsey’s and they share a kiss. I would like note Maria did not say no Alex.

While all of this has been going on we see Flint visit his father wondering why he did’t want everyone to know the truth about the alien facility. Papa Manes said it would have caused more issues and been called fake news. Basically its better to keep up with anything they are doing in secret. Flint finds Alex outside their fathers hospital room door a few days later. While they are outside it looks like their father might be having a heart attack or stroke or something similar.

Looks like Rosa is going back to her old habits in order to keep Max’s voice out of her head. Also it was never explained what Liz said to explain her not leaving. I have a feeling her father was not going to be accepting of Liz giving up a grant. I am pretty sure Isobel taking that poison is going to have really bad results. I am super let down about the reason why Max wants Rosa to stop Liz. I don’t like pain and I would want the pain to end as well. At the same time I was hoping for some huge alien reason. To stop a war or an invasion Max can’t come back to life.

Also it was nice to find out about the time Liz and Rosa’s mother drove drunk and how Rosa yelled at her after she hit a bike. It is because of that reason Liz never believed her sister drove drunk.

Roswell is allowed to have trailers and next week looks like its going to crazy. Maria is going to see Rosa who I am guessing is looking for more alcohol to drink and Isobel is going to keep taking more poison.

#roswell #roswell tv show #roswell new mexico #Roswell reboot #roswell spoilers #roswell new mexico spoilers #roswell nm

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everlarkficquestions · 6 years

Text

Sunday Stumped Day 26

It’s another Sunday Stumped Day.

Sometimes we straight out get stumped. So each week on Sunday we’ll post of a list of asks that we need your help on.

If you have an answer to any of these shoot us a message/ask/reply with the Post number and the fic number and we’ll add it and give you a shout out with our thanks. Any links you can provide will also be super helpful.

Thanks!

Post 1 , Post 2 , Post 3, Post 4, Post 5, Post 6, Post 7, Post 8, Post 9, Post 10, Post 11, Post 12, Post 13, Post 14, Post 15, Post 16, Post 17, Post 18, Post 19, Post 20, Post 21, Post 22 , Post 23, Post 24, and Post 25 can be found here - and there are still fics we need your help with.

413. kloryu9 said to everlarkficquestions:

Hi! Do you know of any fics in which Haymitch and Katniss are the ones that go to the quarter quell? Thanks!

FOUND! Here are a few:

Hope In the Darkness That I Will See the Light - deathmallow

Sacrifice - HungerGamesLoverr

Portrait of a Victor - sponsormusings (Must be logged in to read)

What if Haymitch went into the Quarter Quell instead of Peeta? - fandomnerd66 (Hayniss)

miniature rock dwellers - openended

Ravenous - kellybellefiction

A Tribute’s Strength - HooperMolly

Blood and Ashes - by lovegameofthrones. Unfortunately it is no longer available.

Thank you @shesasurvivor

414. wan4life said to everlarkficquestions:

Looking for a fic where Peeta gets the courage to talk to Katniss in school and they slowly start dating before the games. It's a complete fic. Everything is the same but Peeta has more courage to talk to her.

FOUND!

Last Wish by Alliswell

My First Date with Katniss Everdeen by holymfwickee

74th Hunger Games Challenge: We Always Were by Jaime Sommers

Thank you @alliswell21 and @cowrintimrousbeastie.

415. howhowthecaraba said to everlarkficquestions:

hi do you guys know of any fics where katniss and peeta are forced to marry in a historical time? i tried looking in your masterlists but i could only find stories set in historical time or arranged marriage in modern times

416. i-am-batman-chick said to everlarkficquestions:

Hey I love your page. I was wondering if you could help me find a story. I dont remember much but I think they were in the games and they had would lift each others shirt up and press themselves against each other to know that they were real. Thank you.

FOUND!

The Light Up Series by theatricalveggie

As If You Have a Choice (Light Up Series - Book 1)

I'll Be Right Beside You (Light Up Series - Book 2)

Even if You Cannot Hear My Voice (Light Up Series - Book 3)

Thank you @sunsetsrmydreams and @thestuckinbed!

417. loverme11 said to everlarkficquestions:

do you know the fic where katniss thinks she's pregnant Nd leaves peeta and goes across the world. also do you know the fic where katniss leaves peeta because he proposes to her and she doesn't want to get married so she leaves.

POSSIBLY!

Hello by Peetabreadgirl

Better Life by Pookieh (Katniss goes around the country, not the world. Must be logged into AO3 to read)

Trying To Get It Right by sponsormusings

Thank you @sunsetsrmydreams, @cowrintimrousbeastie and @fangirlingoverquotes

418. redhoodhungergames said to everlarkficquestions:

Any fics where katniss has a baby but for some reason peeta has to go or they break up or something? Similar it comes back to you.

POSSIBLY!

I Don't Wanna Live Forever.... chele20035

Thank you @cowrintimrousbeastie.

419. sopvln said to everlarkficquestions:

There was a fic that was cannon-divergent where Katniss had a piece of sea glass that she kept from D4 from the tour and it reminded her of peeta?? Can’t remember the name

POSSIBLY!

Either Way by bellissimaanima

Thank you @stjohn27

420. sunsetsrmydreams said to everlarkficquestions:

Happy holidays!!! I'm looking for a fic where Katniss watches Peeta wrestle at a festival and when he wins, they crown him king for the night and he get to pick his queen. He weaves through the crowd to crown Katniss. They dance and I think he kisses her. Any help would be wonderful! Thank You

FOUND!

Unreaped by thedragonwaiting

Thank you @butrfac14

421. darth-kage5400 said to everlarkficquestions:

I was looking out for a fic I had read once awhile ago about Peeta and Katniss having a daughter who was born in a forest when Katniss and Galway with their families ran away to the forest only to return two years later when the capitol had been overthrown already and Peeta, a war hero nicknamed "The Phoenix" leads a lonely life with all his family killed in the rebellion...

422. darth-kage5400 said to everlarkficquestions:

Also there was this another one about Peeta and Katniss having a daughter (again) conceived by them both partaking in a wild drunken night... and Peeta, after uncovering the truth, leaves behind his prospect ful life ahead to take residence in the seams as a miner... In fact it had a name eerily like - the third everdeen, the other everdeen, or the third sister... however exactly what, deluded me and I cannot seem to find the fic at all...

FOUND!

Seam Girls by AyYouFiction

Thank you @sunsetsrmydreams, @thestuckinbed, @alliswell21, and @stjohn27.

423. gabzep said to everlarkficquestions:

Hi! I’m looking for a fic where Peeta came back but doesn’t remember being in love with Katniss but still wants to heal with her. Someone is trying to kill her(coins sister or a group from 13). When in 4 they have to fight her in some water cave. Peeta gets hurt has to have surgery and when he wakes up he keeps saying over and over that he remembers. Doctors don’t understand and try to keep her out but she forces her way pass them. He tells her he remembers he loves her. I think it was in ffn

424. oranges1837 said to everlarkficquestions:

hi! i can’t seem to remember the name or author but it’s a fic set in district 13 with multiple different povs from characters. there’s one chapter where gale beats peeta in his hospital bed due to him supposedly hurting katniss with a lunch tray. sorry this is very vague. thank you!

FOUND!

Rekindling by ShiningCity

Thank you @stjohn27

425. amazinglovers747 said to everlarkficquestions:

I'm looking for a fic where I think men and women are separated and Katniss and a bunch of other girls were in a flying craft to meet their randomly chosen husbands and it got shot down and Peeta found her and her foot was hurt. They fall in love and there's a revolution and some people Katniss knows come to rescue her and plan on leaving the next morning and Katniss and Peeta make love that night and Katniss stays. 9 months later the come back and Katniss is pregnant. Sound familiar?

FOUND!

Hatched by mega-aulover

Thank you @mega-aulover and @katnissdoesnotfollowback

426. m0ther-of-dragons said to everlarkficquestions:

Hi it was a fic where Katniss has a nightmare where Peet’s comforts her and gale realizes its not going to work between them, or Katniss having a nightmare and Gale can’t comfort her Thanks!

POSSIBLY!

Intimate Bystander by burkygirl

Thank you @fangirlingoverfanquotes!

427. amazinglovers747 said to everlarkficquestions:

I'm looking for a fic where it's Peeta's birthday and no one says anything to him about it and he feels sorry for himself and Katniss takes him to the lake and they have sex as her way of showing him how much she needs him and when they head home there's a surprise party for him.

FOUND!

Betrayal by Gabzep

Thank you @butrfac14

428. mvictoria00 said to everlarkficquestions:

Hi! I was curious if you know the name of a fanfic that included only Peeta going to the games and wins, then after returning to District 12 he asks Katniss to live with him? Or something similar to that?

FOUND!

The Miner’s Wife by MockingJayFlyingFree

Kinship by misshoneywell (Must be logged into AO3 to read)

Keep the Blood in Your Head and And Keep Your Feet on the Ground by atetheredmind (Must be logged into AO3 to read them)

Maybe It's Just Me by bleedtoloveher

Thank you @sunsetsrmydreams, @cowrintimrousbeastie and @eggplant8

429. fangirlingoverquotes said to everlarkficquestions:

Hi! I was wondering if you have a list where Peeta and Katniss are at some doet of party and play drinking games? Like never have i ever or thruth or dare? Thank you!

FOUND!

Seven Minutes, Seven Years, and Six Kisses by nonemoreblack (Must be logged into AO3 to read)

Thank you @cowrintimrousbeastie

430. jsth2obooks said to everlarkficquestions:

Hello. I'm looking for a gift I read couple years ago. It's one of those "not all of it" fics where katnisss actually explains her feeling to peeta and they start a relationship. She eventually gtes pregnant and they have a dog together (w/peeta). The author also had some quotes from the previous chapters that she would add to the current chapter. She also wrote for all books in the triolgy. Thanks so much I'm advance

UPDATED!

FOUND!

Someone To Watch Over Me by ArthursCamelot

My Last Breath by ArthursCamelot

Come Rain or Come Shine by ArthursCamelot

Thank you @sunsetsrmydreams and @stjohn27

431. belensitax3 said to everlarkficquestions:

Hi I’m looking for a fic of where Katniss left peeta to go to Europe . I think peeta was a photographer in this fic.

FOUND!

Trying To Get It Right by sponsormusings (Must be logged into AO3 to read)

Thank you @cowrintimrousbeastie

432. iamupsidedown said to everlarkficquestions:

Hi! Looking for a fic in which Katniss and Peeta are best friends. They're at Gale's party, drunk and she blows some smoke at him and then they mess around in a coat closet. Ring any bells? Keep up the amazing work!

FOUND!

Best Laid Plans by atetheredmind (muttpeeta) (Must be logged into AO3 to read)

Thank you @idoinneedyou, @butrfac14, and @eggplant8.

Do any of these fics ring a bell? Please let us know!

#mod post #ssd

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lizwontcry · 7 years

Text

Hi. I just wanted to share something I started writing this summer and then ran out of steam to finish. I watched 13 seasons of Greys twice in a row; for about 4 or 5 months it was literally the only thing I watched. I enjoyed the usual shippyness--Cristina and Owen, Meredith and Derek, etc., but the OTP I walked away with was Alex and Meredith. So here is a thing I wrote. It has a beginning and an end but not exactly a middle. Rock on.

Somewhere between the newly instituted Waffle Sundays and living together and working together and barely breathing in the same air without each other, things change. It is, after all, practically inevitable.

The change doesn’t happen all at once, or even in an obvious way. It's just, every now and then, Meredith will look up from helping Ellis cut her waffle into little pieces and Alex is braiding Zola's hair and telling her a story about the little boy who refused to let go of the Storm Trooper action figure Alex gave him while he recovered from his appendix surgery. Zola is laughing and looking at Alex adoringly, probably the same way Meredith is gazing at him if she were to see herself in the mirror at that moment.

As for Alex, he also tried to deny it for a long time. But there comes a time in everyone’s life when they must admit that their feelings are not just about the friendship they've carefully constructed over the years. There was one night in particular where Meredith came home completely exhausted but supremely satisfied. She had completed a long, difficult procedure that was not expected to go well, but as usual, she rocked it. Meredith had this look in her eyes like she could do anything, and Alex realized he kind of loved that about her. Her confidence; her readiness to take on the world. He digs it.

Most of the time they stick to their own respective bedrooms, but when they do fall asleep together, Alex is mostly amused by her snoring--he can't help it; she's adorable. And sometimes, Meredith wakes up and studies Alex's profile, and she can't shake the thought that there's an attractive--okay, hot--man in her bed. Or that she's in a hot man's bed. She tries to ignore the always-gnawing guilt—Derek’s gone. She’s not cheating on him. Plus, he’d want her to be with someone who always had her back—right? He liked Alex well enough. Her rationalizations got out of hand from time to time.

Of course, the sun rises and they wake up way too early for most normal humans and take on the day and the night has been forgotten. But every now and then, it's not forgotten. And they both remember.

_____________

Meredith is knitting. She's not knitting well, or even paying particularly close attention to what she's doing, but she's knitting. She tries to recall what Izzie taught her about it back when they did stuff like that together. Why is she knitting? That's actually a good question.

The front door opens, and a spectacularly tired Alex drags himself inside the house. He nods at Meredith, and puts his bag and keys on the kitchen table, although Meredith always tells him how she'd rather he place his belongings anywhere other than that location.

"What's with you? You look like you're about to pass out."

Alex falls down on the couch next to Meredith. "Long day. Totally routine inguinal hernia repair, with too many complications. Almost lost a 7-year-old girl. But she pulled through."

Meredith nods, and Alex snorts. "What are you, 80? It's a Friday night and you're knitting, Mer. What the hell?"

"Yes, I am knitting. Maggie took the kids to play miniature golf, and Amelia was supposed to come over to watch Rosemary's Baby with me, but Owen's mom is having a little dinner party for Megan, so... that's where everyone is. And I am here. Knitting."

Alex not-so-gently takes all the knitting out of Meredith's hands and throws it on the coffee table.

"Hey! I was... doing that."

"Well, now you're not. You're feeling bummed about Riggs and I get that. But now it's time to stop being an old lady and go outside.”

Meredith sighs. "I'm not that bummed, Alex. You know I’m not. He's a good guy. It would have been interesting. But the long lost love of his life is back, so good for him. It's better this way, really. I'm fine on my own. I'm a mother! I have three children. They are my priority."

"Okay, but have you considered that everything you just said is a pile of crap?"

Meredith punches Alex's arm. He feigns pain.

"It is, though," he continue. "You're a great mom, everyone knows that. But there is no substitute for companionship. For love. For sex.”

"Are you seriously lecturing me on companionship? On love? Look at you. Jo—

Alex interrupts. "Jo and DeLuca are ducking into empty hallways when they think we aren't looking and making dumb faces at each other even when they think we are. She's moved on. Whatever."

"Have you?"

"I guess. I don't want her back anymore, at least--I get that I really messed this relationship up. The rest of the chicks, yeah, I played a part but they were all nuts. This time, I went nuts."

"Well... at least you haven't peed on my couch yet."

Alex shakes his head. Meredith is never going to let that one go.

"Anyway. Get up. Go change. We're going out."

"Where? And why do I have to change? I'm perfectly fine with my knitting, thank you."

"Screw the knitting. Wear something hot; we're going to get you laid tonight."

Meredith opens her mouth to protest, but Alex has that look on his face. The one where Meredith already understands that she can argue about this with him for as long as she wants, but his stubborn ass is not going to give in. So she sighs again and begrudgingly gets off the comfortable couch.

10 minutes later, she comes out in a dress she hasn't worn in years and does a little spin for Alex. He whistles appreciatively, and she curtsies, laughing. Alex has changed into some nicer jeans and a button down shirt. Even though he looked like he was going to pass out on the kitchen floor when he first came home, he now looks reinvigorated.

"Where should we go? Joe's?"

Meredith hopes Alex is kidding. "You want me to find someone to have sex with at the bar where I met my dead husband for the first time?"

Alex frowns. "Bad idea, huh?"

"Come on, we look hot, let's go somewhere nice. Like adults. I'll even let you pay for dinner."

“Oh, how generous,” Alex says, pretending to be annoyed.

In the car, Meredith throws a bag of Cheerios, an iPad, and a coloring book into the back seat so Alex can sit in the front. They happily chat about the hospital, the weather, the kids--carefully avoiding the subject of Riggs and Jo and anything and anyone that has to do with Riggs and Jo.

They decide to go to the Metropolitan Grill. Neither of them eat a lot of red meat, but they’re both craving steak. Once seated, Alex orders a beer and Meredith gets herself a glass of Chardonnay.

“Wine tonight?” Alex asks as Meredith takes a sip.

“Yeah. I can be classy, you know.”

Alex chuckles. “Yeah, you can. But I’ve also seen you gulp a beer faster than any man I know, including myself.”

Meredith nods in agreement. “I can drink a beer with the rest of ‘em, for sure. But I prefer to get drunk on a classier substance these days.”

“It looks good on you,” Alex says. “But I gotta say, it’s pretty hot to see you destroy a dozen beers in a row.”

Meredith feels herself blushing. Why? Alex has admitted similar things dozens of times. She knows he thinks she’s attractive. So what? He’s good looking, too. That’s an obvious fact of their relationship. So why does her face feel like it’s burning? Must be the wine.

They order a ton of food and spend the balmy, rainy evening laughing, drinking, and eating. The whole reason why they went out--to get Meredith laid--seems to be forgotten, as Alex doesn’t leave her side the entire night. After a luxurious and decadent dessert of chocolate mousse, they argued over the bill (eventually Alex gave in and let Meredith pay it), and Alex led her out with his hand on the small of her back. As soon as his hand made contact, Meredith had to fight back a small gasp. It wasn’t that Derek used to do that--he preferred to hold her hand instead--but it was just so… intimate. Like they had already been married for 10 years or something. It was bizarre. It was nice. It was confusing.

“Let’s go somewhere else,” Alex says. “I’m not ready to go home yet.”

“Me, either, actually,” Meredith says. “Where should we go?”

They debated going to a late movie, to act like tourists at the Space Needle, to go for a long drive, but eventually settled on a small, dimly lit bookstore that Meredith’s mom used to take her to as a kid.

“I can’t believe this place is still here,” Meredith says when they arrive. She’s looking through the medical books, most of which were probably the same ones her mother sorted through decades ago.

(This is where I unfortunately ran out of steam for the middle...just imagine them looking at books together and feeling like they know each other better than anyone else knows them)

When they finally get home, they have to be quiet since Maggie and the kids are asleep. They crash on the living room couch, which is where the whole night started. Meredith looks at her abandoned knitting on the table. This night is ending way different than how it started. Funny how that happens sometimes.

“Want a beer?” Meredith whispers.

“Nah, I think I’ve had enough for tonight,” Alex whispers back, and there’s really nothing left to say now. They are sitting way too close to each other. Meredith puts her head on his shoulder, and he sighs in a way that makes Meredith realize something needs to happen, and probably soon. But what about… well, what about everything?

Meredith decides that she will be the one to address this. For once in her life, she will put it out there. No more secrets. Plus, she’s still feeling confident; she feels sexy in her nice dress and can still feel the warmth from the wine she drank earlier.

“You’re my person,” she blurts out. Alex looks at her… not strangely, because he knows exactly what she’s saying, but with a curious intrigue.

“Cristina’s your person,” Alex says softly.

“Yes, she is, but you’re my person. Not the person who lives in another country that I get to talk to for a few hours a week. The person who lives in my house, who helps with my children, who I work side by side with on a daily basis. You’re my person, Alex!”

Alex nods. “That doesn’t mean I can’t be more than your person. You’re not imagining this, Mer. I feel it, too. And we can ignore it forever, but eventually it’s going to catch up with us. Hell, it has caught up with us. It’s here.”

They are really talking about this. All these years, everything that’s happened, disappearing wives with cancer, dead husbands who end up at crappy hospitals, the highs and lows of life. They’ve been through it all. Maybe they can do this?

“But we know what’s going to happen already! We’ll get closer, it’ll be great, and then one of us will get freaked out by something and it’ll trigger our dark places. You’ll back off and move out and maybe get another job with Dr. Butthole just so you don’t have to be near me. Or I’ll start thinking about husband ghosts and how I need someone the kids can depend on and I’ll become cold and distant until we inevitably have some kind of disastrous break up where we never speak to each other again. And Alex, I can’t afford that. I can’t afford you not being in my life. I can’t--”

“Don’t be dumb, Mer. I’ll never work for Dr. Butthole again, that you can depend on.”

Meredith chuckles and hits him. Alex grabs her hand, and the warmth and comfort of it calms her down a little.

“You’re right. Those things can and may happen. But we’re older now. Our friendship can withstand this. Maybe… maybe we owe it to ourselves to try.”

Meredith looks into Alex’s earnest eyes and knows he’s right. She never thought about ending up with Alex, out of all people, but maybe this is what their terrible romantic disasters have been leading to. Maybe they had to go through all of that to come to this moment. Of course, Meredith has to think to herself, if Derek was still alive, she would be with him forever. But he’s not, and Alex is one of the brightest lights in her sometimes dim existence. He loves her kids, and they love him. They have all these shared experiences that have brought them as close as two human beings can be, practically. Maybe it is time.

Alex leans over while Meredith is deep into this existential crisis and gives her a small kiss. It’s an introductory kiss and it’s not everything Meredith has ever dreamed of or whatever, but it’s good. So good it makes the butterflies in her stomach start flying through the rest of her body.

It’s definitely time to try.

Alex pulls away and looks intently at her. Meredith lets every single emotion she’s feeling sink into her brain, and then leans in to kiss him again. This time it’s the kind of kiss they make movies about; the kind of kiss poets and writers have been describing in literature for thousands of years. It’s good, so good. And it’s even better with Alex’s hands in her hair and her hands pulling at his shirt and both of them needing each other in a way they’ve never been able to comprehend.

“Hey… if we don’t stop, things are going to get way too pornographic in here,” Meredith says when they manage to pull away.

“Well, I can’t say that would be disappointing,” Alex says, and she laughs.

“It wouldn’t be. But…”

“Kids are here. I get it. To be continued,” he says, and kisses her again, and it’s so good it almost knocks the wind out of her.

“I’m going to bed,” Meredith says when she catches her breath.

“Is that an invitation?” Alex says, but not in the frat brother way he used to talk to her, but in a respectful, almost hopeful kind of way.

“Yes… actually it is,” Meredith says, and he grins as they both get up and walk the short distance to the bedroom, where they fall in bed together fully clothed, wrapped around each other, wanting so much more but knowing and appreciating the tantalizing feeling of waiting until they can take it further, explore, and unlock the secrets that have been kept in their hearts for so long.

This is the easy part; the kissing and the honesty and the excitement of something new. What comes after will be the challenge. But for now, they are ready. They are at least ready to try.

#merlex #grey's anatomy #alex karev #meredith grey #idk #I didn't know what else to do with it but I wanted it out in the world #fandom #fanfic

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tannerahonesti95 · 4 years

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Musique Reiki Chakra Gorge Astonishing Tricks

Reiki is a part of a Reiki master, this information into Nestor's psyche.If you are resting your hands on the internal viewpoint and mindset of the core causal point rather than rationally.Students often perceive this energy for each of their Reiki classes.Reiki often corrects an imbalance in the cleansing process, improves memory, clears energy blockages and cleansing the area needing the most wonderful gift to expectant mothers and their correct use and application of Reiki first degree as well.

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Reiki New York

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How Can I Learn Reiki

If that is capable of handling almost everything that needs healing.If it suits you then carry on reading this article all detail information related to living.It can be measured with a lot of excess discussion or do self-healing.With online training, this flow of the body.Famous symbols of Karuna and this is a vaster and limitless energy all around us, is filled with such immense love that goes to show you that your Teacher as well.

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#Musique Reiki Chakra Gorge Astonishing Tricks #How To Use Reiki Chakra Stones

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jordan202 · 7 years

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The Journey - Part Seventeen

Thanks to everyone who waited patiently for this. @jia911 and @bluebelle18 thank you so much for your help.

Previous chapters are HERE.

Timeline for Part 17:

How much exactly happened between Amelia telling Derek she was in love with Owen at the end of 11x18 and the opening scene of 11x19? One night? Why not a little more than that? This chapters explores the interactions between these two episodes. And sadly, we are getting ready to say goodbye to Derek.

The Journey – Part Seventeen

“What’s this?” Amelia asked widening her eyes. Owen had just moved his leg up to better accommodate the two of them in bed and she couldn’t help noticing the long scar on the outside of his right thigh. “Who did this?” Her eyes scanned it with concern, noticing the poorly done surgical repair. “It’s a disaster,” she joked, outlining the thin mark with her index finger.

“What?” Owen distractedly asked, taking his eyes off the TV to focus on the woman in his arms. “Oh, that,” He chuckled, knowing she’d probably be horrified by his answer. “I got a nasty cut there once and got it stapled.”

Amelia’s scowl of sympathy for the painful procedure amused him. Even though there was nothing but a pink discreet line visible on his fair skin, as a surgeon she could obviously identify the evidence of a severe laceration that has bruised his leg once.

“Oh my God, where were you when this happened?” Amelia leaned over, unceremoniously pulling the fabric of his boxers up his thigh to take a closer look at the scar. She knew Owen had been to a warzone more than once and wasn’t sure she was prepared to hear his answer. “It looks like a carpenter did it.”

“I did it,” He replied and waited for the surprise on her face, that didn’t fail to come. “That’s why it looks that horrible. I was in a hurry and didn’t have that much of an angle.”

“Where in the world were you that you couldn’t properly suture this?” Amelia asked with sympathy, supposing it was a battle wound.

“At the hospital,” Owen surprised her and couldn’t help a fit of laughter at her nearly offended expression. “Right here in Seattle.”

“You were at the hospital and you did this to yourself?” Amelia’s voice was a pitch higher than usual. She looked almost angry. “What the hell, Owen?”

He shrugged and chuckled, amused by her protective reaction.

“I guess I wasn’t thinking much back then. I had just made it back from war and my head was not in a very good place,” Owen followed her eyes and ended gazing at the result of his impulsiveness with the stapler. “The cosmetic result doesn’t bother me that much but I suppose I should have at least gotten the area numb before stapling myself. I probably would have done a better job if I weren’t feeling every staple slicing my skin.”

Amelia was silent for a couple of seconds before she finally admitted.

“Well, I can’t judge you that much on that because I once did something similar,” She pointed to her left hand, where a virtually nonexistent scar served as a reminder of her messy drunken days. “But at least I had the decency to apply some local anesthetic to it first.” Owen laughed along with her, and he couldn’t help cracking up harder when she added, “not to mention I used real, grown up surgeon suture line and not a quick carpentry patch.”

Owen wrapped his free hand around her waist, pulling her back closer against his chest. They were in bed, half lying, half sitting. Amelia was between his legs, comfortably leaned on him. Owen had grown to love holding her every night. It felt perfect to have her tiny frame captured in his arms, to be able to breath her in and smell the amazing scent on her hair as they did something as mundane as watching an old action movie on television together on a random weeknight.

After her sassy comment, Owen stretched out his hand and grabbed hers, inspecting the almost imperceptible scar on its left side before taking it to his lips, kissing the area with delight mirth.

“Do I want to ask how you got that cut in the first place?” He turned his head sideways, meeting her eyes as Amelia accommodated the back of her head against his shoulder.

The neurosurgeon saw the raised eyebrow and pretended to think long and hard of what to say before replying:

“No.”

Owen chuckled at her response and saw the contained laughter in her eyes before burying his face on the crook of her neck.

“But you’ll tell me anyway,” he affirmed with conviction, playfully showering her shoulder and neck with kisses that made Amelia twitch her back in a ticklish response.

“Okay, okay…” Her giggles echoed through the small interior of Owen’s trailer as she surrendered. After catching her breath, Amelia finally confessed. “I was drunk and fell on a bar.” She met his eyes and noticed he was expecting something more. “Actually, I fell from the bar. Not that glorious, as you can see.”

“At least you were having fun.” He added, noticing she seemed to be avoiding sharing more details. Owen knew she was probably bothered because the memory was linked to her rock bottom days as an alcoholic. But he didn’t judge her for her condition. In fact, he thought her resilience and drive to overcome it everyday spoke a whole lot more than her addiction in the first place.

“Yeah, kind of…” Amelia grinned, thankful that she could now laugh about the situation that had once been so embarrassing. Her gaze had diverted back to the TV as once again she and Owen got caught up with the movie on screen when she felt his fingers idly rubbing the skin of her stomach beneath her shirt.

A lazy smile formed on her lips as Amelia relaxed even more in his arms, not making a lot of effort to contain a yawn. Over those past few days together, she’d come to notice how Owen’s hands were always seeking her back and belly under her shirt and she didn’t mind it one bit. In fact, Amelia found the act quite intimate and soothing. It felt amazing to feel the roughness of his hand against her skin, constantly reminding her that he was there.

His thumb was still distractedly rubbing the curve of her waist when Amelia intertwined her fingers with his, unconsciously offering him support as she heard the words slipping her mouth.

“How was it there?” She asked, unable to withhold the question much longer. “I know you’ve been to several tours but you never talk about your days in the army.”

Owen’s eyes were still on the screen but he was no longer paying attention to the movie.

“There is nothing much to tell,” He evasively answered, finally looking from the screen to her eyes. Amelia saw his discreet smile before he leaned over and kissed her temple with affection. “I spent most of my time there working at a campaign hospital, seeing patients and scrubbing in on surgeries the same way we work here every day.” Owen added.

It wasn’t exactly true and he knew it. Not only were the conditions at the war zone a lot different, it was a daily struggle to see the men and women he fought with having their lives hanging by a thread, or losing them despite his best efforts. Fighting alongside people he considered brothers and sisters was already hard enough, but being the one who worked on them when they were at their worst not knowing if at any moment he would turn out to the next victim was exponentially rough.

Owen had lived through a lot. He’d seen and heard everything. Those days were in his past and at the moment, he was much more interested in the present lying comfortably in his arms.

And who knew, maybe she might turn out to be his future too? Owen surely hoped so.

“Yeah, but you never bring it up.” Amelia gently insisted, thinking about his wellbeing. “It’s okay to talk about you, you know that, right?” She turned sideways in his arms, leaning the side of her head against his shoulder as she looked up to meet his eyes, feeling him adjusting to better hold her. “You should talk about it. I’m here if you want to.” She selflessly offered, waiting for his response, but all Owen did was to give her a quick peck on the lips.

“Thank you.” He smiled when they broke apart. “But I am okay,” he added, more worried about assuring her than about his own current status. Owen had been severely traumatized when he’d come back from his last tour, but a lot of hard work in therapy sessions and long years of taking care of himself had made that better.

It was impossible to talk about the war without bringing up some painful memories. Owen had lost people he cared too much about to it… Friends and family. Tonight, they were having a blissful moment, and he didn’t want to ruin it with memories that would only constrict his heart.

“Okay, then, but the offer still stands,” Amelia smiled genuinely at him, still playing with his fingers between hers. “Did you find what you were looking for?” She turned her head and looked deeply into his eyes. “In the army, I mean. Whatever made you join… Did you find what you were after?”

Owen slightly frowned, looking lost in thought. A lot of people asked him what had made him join in the first place, but no one had ever asked him that.

“I think so.” He was still surprised with the question, but tried to be as honest as possible while looking back into her eyes and speaking from the heart. “I don’t know, I guess I wanted to make a difference.”

“You can make a difference right here.”

The way Amelia said the words, without any hesitation while looking straight into his eyes moved Owen. In her shy smile, he learned the true meaning of her last sentence.

Feeling his heart being invaded by a warm, tender sensation, Owen wrapped his arms around her more tightly and kissed the top of her head, closing his eyes as Amelia snuggled closer to his chest. Minutes went by before they finally began talking again.

“Are you really taking a day off tomorrow?” She asked, raising one eyebrow questioningly at him. Ever since she’d started working at the hospital, it was rare to see Owen taking a personal day. He’d have free time sometimes on weekends, but Amelia couldn’t think of a single weekday where her boss hadn’t been at the hospital.

“Yeah,” Owen awkwardly replied, looking like someone who’d just been busted. Unable to keep the information a secret any longer, he finally confessed. “Your brother is going to DC in a couple of days to finalize his work with his project there and he told me he’s taking this time to do all the things he loves the most… You know, like spending time with his family, or being back in the OR.” Owen explained. “But he also told me he loves the quietness and silence he first found when he got here. So Derek planned a fishing excursion for tomorrow and after telling me about it, he insisted I joined him.” The chief of surgery looked at Amelia conspicuously. “I have a feeling he suspects about us.” Owen added with a semi apologetic grin.

The neurosurgeon thought it was cute the way he was apparently blaming himself for it.

“Derek knows,” Amelia affirmed with conviction, watching the transformation in Owen’s face as he showed surprise with the information. “Well…” She bit her lower lip with doubt. “I am not sure how much he knows, to be honest.” The neurosurgeon confessed, thinking about the conversation she’d had with her brother. She had openly admitted to be falling in love with Owen, something Derek didn’t look so surprised with, but Amelia had never told him that the two of them were steadily seeing each other.

“Oh God,” Owen widened his eyes with discomfort. “Do you think that’s why he invited me?” Suddenly, a look of alarm was stamped all over the surgeon’s expression. “He’s not going to…You know…” Owen hesitated, visibly uncomfortable. “He’s not going to be asking me questions, is he?”

Amelia studied his expression, having fun with Owen’s predicament. Derek was obviously protective of her, but he’d made it clear he supported the romance between his sister and his friend. She really couldn’t see him grilling Owen about it, but it was fun to watch their boss being so terrified with anxiety.

“Well,” Amelia chuckled, seeing Owen growing worried by the minute. “I guess tomorrow you’ll find out.”

The sun was shinning high in the sky, casting a comfortable heat on them as Owen listened to Derek’s monologue about rods, reels and lines. After a few minutes, the two men sat beside each other inside the small boat. Owen found out that instead of the awkward conversation he was expecting, there was actually comfortable silence.

Both surgeons had learned how to cherish those moments of peace and quietness. Derek, being born and raised in New York, had grown accustomed to noise and busy streets. Owen on the other hand had learned the true value of tranquility during his first deployment, while spending months deprived of it. After Derek popped open the first two beers, both guys remained immersed in total silence, enjoying the rare day of clear skies in Seattle.

After what it felt like a couple of hours, it was Derek who finally started the conversation.

“This is nice,” The neurosurgeon casually commented, pulling out his rod and collecting the medium size trout that had bitten his bait. “We took too long to start doing this.” He added with an encouraging grin.

Owen watched as his friend skillfully prepared another hook.

“Yeah,” He agreed with a head nod, looking over his shoulder to Derek. Owen had to admit he was enjoying that day more than he would have expected. It felt good to take a break from everything and be closer to nature. “I had no idea how much I needed this.”

“The quietness?” Derek raised his eyebrows in a clear mocking smile. Owen recognized the expression, it was the same one Amelia had on whenever she was about to tease him. “I bet you did,” Derek tried to contain a smile. “I mean, it’s not like you can have a moment’s peace with Amelia. In fact,” the neurosurgeon looked playfully at the other guy, as if knowing how uncomfortable he was starting to feel. “She won’t shut up whenever she can help it.” Derek chuckled. “But I’m sure you’ve already picked up on it.”

Owen breathed in, hesitating for a moment while he thought of what to say. The tension was building up and he had been caught by surprise.

“Yeah, about Amelia…”

“Hey, don’t worry, alright?” Derek interrupted him with a lighthearted grin. “I know.” He said without adding details. And then, almost as if giving his blessing, the neurosurgeon nodded his head. “She told me.”

Owen didn’t know how to respond to that, so he simply remained silent. At the same time Derek had no saying in Amelia’s love life, he was her brother and Owen knew the two of them were close. He and Amelia hadn’t really defined what they were yet, but the chief of surgery wanted to believe she was just as invested in their relationship as he was. And if that were the case, Derek would probably be a significant part of his life from there on.

Almost as if reading his thoughts, Amelia’s brother commented:

“You know, you are welcome to park the trailer in my back yard for as long as you want,” Derek started, smiling mischievously. “But if you ever feel like you need more space, I heard the owners there have been trying to sell the place for years now,” He pointed to a squared flat land surrounded by high pine trees directly across the smaller portion of the lake. “I almost bought it, but I would have no use for it. Everything I need I already have right here.” He pointed to the house and the yard with his eyes, smiling affectionately. The expression on Derek’s face showed he was thinking about way more than he was actually saying. “But how nice would it be to be my neighbor?” The neurosurgeon hid his telltale smile behind a bottle of beer.

Owen looked at him suspiciously. It was obvious what Derek was implying.

“I am already your neighbor.” He pointed out, refusing to give the idea and everything it entailed too much thought, otherwise Owen knew he would quickly be seduced by it.

“I meant a grown up neighbor.” Derek teased him, looking from his friend back to the vacant land. “Amelia is a big city girl, though,” he continued, completely ignoring Owen’s grumpy protest. He knew he was seeing way too much into the future but after his latest epiphany, Derek felt like there was no time left to lose. Life was too precious and went by too fast to waste any time overthinking things that already made a lot of sense. “So don’t expect her to celebrate the idea of living out here in the woods on the long run,” The older brother finished his beer and smacked the leftover flavor on his lips. “Just promise her you’ll never make her sleep in a tent and she’ll be on board.” He looked at the chief of surgery like he’d just given him privileged information. “It’ll also earn you some extra points if you add a big bathtub in her suite.”

Even though Owen was trying really hard to stick to reality, it was incredibly difficult to refrain from actually picturing what Derek was saying. It had always been his dream to build a family and a home with a woman he loved and wanted the same things in life. Amelia came from a big family and it was obvious Derek enjoyed having her around. No wonder why the neurosurgeon was pretty much making plans for Amelia’s future and including Owen in it.

“And then when you two have kids, you can even…”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Owen interrupted his friend, giving him a censoring look. “You should take a step back and come back to the present time.” The chief kept a heavy frown. “Actually, take several steps back.”

“What, you don’t want to have kids?” Derek playfully asked, smiling widely when he noticed the obvious answer in Owen’s eyes. The neurosurgeon was well aware of where his friends stood about having children, especially after closely witnessing how being deprived of them had contributed to put an end to his marriage.

“Of course I do.” Owen refuted him instantly.

“Then what’s the problem?” Derek spoke excitedly. “You know, Hunt, there will come a day when you’ll wake up one morning and find out there is no better feeling in the world than when your baby holds your face between their hands and smiles at you before saying dad.” His eyes were gleaming with mischief when Derek then finally added. “But then my mom will probably ring on your front door unexpectedly, or one of the kids will throw up on you and next thing you know, you’ll be wondering how you got yourself into this mess in the first place.”

Owen couldn’t contain a chuckle. He couldn’t deny how the idea was incredibly inviting. If things kept progressing the way they were, at some point he would love to embark on the idea of building the kind of life Derek had made for himself with Amelia. In a way, Owen already felt like they were already working on the foundation.

Truth was, Owen hadn’t been with Amelia for too long. And life had already taught him to be cautious and how to shield his heart from further disappointment. He had learned not to project his expectations into someone like he’d done in the past, because that didn’t work out. But with Amelia, it simply felt like he didn’t have to. So far, she had only given him reasons to believe she was everything he’d ever wanted and after months in her company, getting to know her and slowly falling in love with her, it became increasingly harder for Owen not to jump in Derek’s idea with both feet.

Involuntarily, his eyes searched across the lake and once again Owen spotted the piece of land Derek had just mentioned. It looked perfect. In a matter of seconds his brain filled in all the blanks. He could almost see a two-story house right by one of the corners, a small football field where he could play catch with his kids and they could ride their bikes on the summer. And right in the center of it all, he could see Amelia being the one right beside him building everything from scratch.

The thoughts remained on his mind for the following hours. Soon enough, he and Derek had already collected a bucket of fish and talked about enough topics to clear their heads. Feeling reinvigorated and more hopeful than he’d felt in years, Owen returned home with his friend, surprised when by the time he made his way to his trailer for the day, Derek insisted he had dinner at the house with the Shepherds later that evening.

The trauma surgeon was about to get dressed when something on the bed caught his attention. Narrowing his eyes with curiosity, Owen approached the bedroom, only to find a delicate white bra that certainly did not belong to him.

Reaching out underneath the blankets, Owen took the small piece and smiled affectionately. For the past week, Amelia had been spending pretty much every night with him. And even though it hadn’t been that long, her presence was already evident in every corner of his trailer.

Her forgotten lingerie was just one of the many traces she’d left behind. Now, his sink usually had two dirty coffee mugs instead of one. The smell of her hair was still very much imprinted on his sheets and the remote control on the opposite side of the bed where he usually laid on also gave away that lately, Owen hadn’t been sleeping alone.

After his eyes noticed the late hour, the trauma surgeon hurried to put the object he’d found inside his pocket and quickly finished getting dressed with dark slacks and a deep green button up shirt. When he rang the doorbell, Owen was surprised to find Zola opening the door right before Derek. He was escorted inside, served a beer and joined his friend on the living room couch, learning that Meredith had scrubbed in on a long surgery and would be home late that evening.

As for Amelia, Owen had no idea. He’d texted her a couple of times earlier that day, but she hadn’t yet replied. And he certainly wasn’t going to ask Derek. Just as Owen was wondering where she was, the front door opened in a hurry and the neurosurgeon barged in, looking absolutely surprised to find both men in the living room.

“Hi!” She recovered quickly from her initial shock, frowning in obvious confusion to what was going on. Amelia had her phone in her hand, and the way the looked from it to Owen let him know she’d just caught up with his messages. “How was fishing?” She asked, uncertain of what to say in that awkwardly surprising situation.

“It was good,” Owen replied evasively.

“Really good,” Derek replied at the same time, visibly more excited.

Amelia looked from her brother to her boss, carefully studying his expression. Owen didn’t seem exactly uncomfortable, but he seemed a bit guarded. As if he wasn’t entirely relaxed, even though the two men were simply watching a game on TV, like they’d done dozens of times before. And it was very obvious why.

Other than her childhood sweetheart, Amelia had never really introduced a guy to her family before but that situation was entirely different, because Owen was already friends with Derek by the time he got involved with Amelia. The younger neurosurgeon didn’t feel awkward to have her brother know about her romantic life, but she could see why a reserved, honorable guy like Owen would be hesitant to act intimate with his friend’s younger sister in his presence.

“So,” Derek looked from Owen to Amelia, determined to make the two of them feel as awkward and uncomfortable as possible for his own amusement. “Are we having dinner, or what?”

“Yeah,” Owen quickly stepped up to help, on board with the idea of having something to keep busy with.

“Good,” Derek nodded. “I am just going to take these little guys to bed first.” He picked up Bailey and called Zola. “Amy, why don’t you set the table?” The neurosurgeon gave his sister a not very subtle wink, clearly trying to embarrass her in front of Owen.

“Sure,” Amelia rolled her eyes at him, reading his intentions. As soon as Derek disappeared upstairs with the kids, she turned her head to the man left standing between the kitchen and the living room. “What’s gotten into you two?” She asked with good humor, trying to decipher Owen’s controlled expression. “You’re so secretive about your date today.”

“We went fishing today,” Owen said like that answered everything, openly ignoring the way she had mocked him by using the word ‘date’. He stuffed his hands into his pockets and followed Amelia into the kitchen, noticing the questioning look that still remained her eyes. “It was nice.” Owen tried again. He’d never really been that good with words and that whole day still felt very confusing.

“Did Derek give you a hard time?” Amelia asked accusingly. Being a big brother, she fully expected Derek to torment her as much as he could.

“No, it was actually very nice,” Owen repeated more emphatically this time. Memories of the future Derek had painted were still haunting his memory, and the surgeon was trying his best not to give into the temptation of fully investing in them without holding back. “We didn’t talk much but I guess… I don’t know…” Owen awkwardly hesitated and stopped laying the plates on the dinner table like he’d been doing. His eyes met Amelia’s and he took a deep breath before confessing. “I guess he was just trying to make sure I have good intentions about you… That we are not just fooling around, I mean.”

“Oh,” Amelia looked at the man in front of her, feeling touched by her brother’s devotion.

“And also, that I was sure I knew what I was getting myself into,” Owen added with a teasing smile.

Amelia scowled, rejecting his playful remark.

“Well, now he knows,” The neurosurgeon sighed in conformation. She had just realized that Derek knowing about she and Owen sort of officially meant they were something. Trying to contain her anxiety about the situation, for Amelia was not sure she was ready for a serious commitment yet, she resorted to playful banter to distract her mind. “You’ve always been the one to condemn our hiding and sneaking out. Now it’s out in the open. Satisfied?”

“Yes,” Owen smiled with joy. Feeling particularly inspired, he took his hand to his pocket and slowly pulled out a white object that Amelia obviously recognized in an instant. “But mostly because of this.”

“What?” She chuckled, approaching him. “I was looking for that this morning!” The neurosurgeon tried to take the bra from his hands but Owen easily dodged her attempt. Amelia folded her arms in front of her body. “What are you doing?”

“You think you’re just getting it back like that?” Owen raised one of his eyebrows playfully and approached her, whispering with a seductive voice. “I don’t even get a thank you for returning it, first?”

Amelia was determined not to give into his bribery, but his charming ways and magnetic presence convinced her otherwise. With amused laughter, she wrapped one of her arms around his neck and pulled his head down towards her, kissing him with the same fiery passion she usually would when they were alone in bed at night.

Owen felt her lips forcing his apart and welcomed her sweet intrusion. Amelia stood on the tip of her toes and pressed against him, molding her body to his solid frame as she continued to explore and deepen the kiss.

“Now, that is a proper thank you,” Owen affirmed with a teasing voice as they slowly pulled apart. Her electric blue eyes were looking at him with desire and longing and he instantly regretted agreeing to that dinner instead of having her all to himself for the night. He was about to say it when they heard a noise coming from the living room and quickly went back to the boring task of setting the table.

As he entered the room, Derek looked from his sister to his friend, instantly picking up the animosity in the air. He smiled mysteriously, making Amelia believe she was in for a full round of teasing during dinner but to her surprise, Derek behaved impeccably, bringing up lighthearted topics that entertained the three adults while they shared a delicious hot meal.

As soon as they were done eating, Owen’s cell phone buzzed incessantly. Seeing it was the hospital, the chief of surgery excused himself for a moment, going into the living room to have more privacy as he answered the work call.

“You are unbelievable!” Amelia took advantage of Owen’s absence and immediately accused her brother, watching as he laughed with delight at her predicament.

“I thought you’d be happy!” Derek replied with pretend disbelief, knowing very well his sister was censoring the way he’d sneakily convinced Owen to spend time with him exactly after Amelia’s confession. “After all, you told me you were falling for the guy. All I did was try to set you up.”

“Derek!” Amelia lost her patience. “I am already going out with Owen.”

“You are?” Derek raised both eyebrows in an exaggerated reaction.

“Yeah, but somehow…” Amelia squinted, slowly reading into the situation. Derek was smiling like he knew better. “Something tells me you already knew that though, didn’t you?”

Amelia noticed the proud smirk lingering on her brother’s lips. She’d told Derek she was developing feelings for Owen, but she hadn’t given him any details of their relationship. It was obvious something was going on, but Derek couldn’t possibly know exactly what.

“Of course I know,” Derek playfully admitted, seeing the crossed look on his sister’s face as she realized she’d flagrantly failed to hide something from him. “I’ve known it since the day you two sneaked out through the back after throwing that noisy toy outside.”

“You saw us?!” Amelia asked with surprise. That had been Derek’s first night back in the city, exactly when she’d gone on her first official date with Owen to the auction.

“I very much did,” Derek laughed at her incredulity. “I am a neurosurgeon, Amelia. You wouldn’t believe how sharp my sight is.”

“Actually, I would.” Amelia replied, obviously butt-hurt by his sneaky insult to her neurosurgical sighting skills.

“You haven’t slept at home once in a full week.” Her brother cracked up with the busted look on her face. “No one has that many night shifts.” Derek logically explained. “Besides… how do you think I am so okay with this?” He asked, leaning on the kitchen counter to look into her eyes with an amused expression.

Amelia took her time digesting the meaning of his words.

“You don’t have to be okay with anything.” She playfully chided, even though she felt flattered with her brother’s concern. “It’s my life, not yours.”

“It’s my friend,” Derek pestered her.

“I stole your job, what makes you think I wouldn’t steal your friends?” Amelia wickedly smiled, determined to get back at him for his previous insult to her abilities as a surgeon.

“Well,” Derek shrugged in conformation. “At least Owen is an upgrade from Mark.”

“You know about Mark too?!” Amelia widened her eyes in shock, genuinely surprised. A few years before, she had once had a meaningless one-night stand with Mark Sloan.

“You think Mark would miss out on the chance to rub on my face that he slept with each one of my four sisters?” Derek grumpily asked, suddenly irritated with the topic.

Amelia didn’t miss out on the chance to get her revenge.

“Well, you’ve always known sleeping with Mark was a rite of passage,” she joked.

“Yeah but I expected him to keep his promise and not prey on you when you were still underage,” Derek scowled, still distressed with the idea.

“I was already a surgeon, Derek,” Amelia argued, laughing with his annoyance.

“So?” He dismissed her point, pretty much saying that to him, she would always be his kid sister.

Amelia was just about to reply to his smug comment when she spotted a movement with the corner of her eyes.

Owen stood by the door with his cell phone in his hand. His tight grip around the object didn’t go unnoticed and Amelia wondered how much of the conversation he’d heard.

“Is everything okay?” She asked, noticing the slightly irritated look on his face.

“Yeah,” Owen replied dismissively but didn’t smile back at her when Amelia sustained his gaze. “It’s actually getting a little late, I should probably go.” Amelia exchanged looks with Derek and instantly knew he was also wondering the same thing as her. “Thanks for dinner, Derek.”

“Anytime,” The neurosurgeon turned around and focused his attention back on the sink, clearly stepping out of the conversation.

Amelia made her way to the living room, noticing as Owen waited for her to catch up with him to walk towards the front door.

“Do you have to go back to the hospital?” She asked, hoping he hadn’t heard the last bit of her conversation with Derek and misinterpreted the situation. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing much, one of the ortho surgeons needs an OR for a last minute procedure and I had to talk Urology into giving it up,” Owen explained one of the perks of his position. He knew he was doing a lousy job at pretending nothing had changed but finding out Amelia had slept with Mark Sloan had completely thrown him off his game.

Not only it had just made Owen wonder if casually sleeping with her brother’s friends was a recurrent routine in Amelia’s life, which he chose to believe wasn’t, he also felt the stinging flavor of jealousy racing through his system.

“Don’t go just yet,” Amelia stretched her hand and touched his elbow, hopeful his apparent bad mood wouldn’t last too long. She had missed him and spent her day yearning for the moment she’d finally be alone with Owen. Deep down, Amelia was hopeful he would invite her to go join him. He seemed to be fighting an internal battle, so she quickly suggested the first idea that came to mind, taking the responsibility of being the one who extended the invitation. “I am going to take a shower. Why don’t you wait for me in my room? It’s not even ten pm yet,” she pointed out, hoping with all her heart he’d stay.

Owen was still unsure of what to feel or think, but saying no to her was almost impossible. Before he noticed, he was already inside Amelia’s bedroom for the second time in his life.

While she went to take a shower, Owen kept busy studying the place. He spotted the painting he’d gotten for her at the auction hanging on one of the walls. A smile accompanied by a sudden rush of warmth in his heart improved his mood. The chief of surgery lost track of time as he examined the furniture around him, noticing a pair of jeans and a couple of cardigans thrown over a chair by one corner. Next to it, there was a small study desk. Owen put his hands in his pockets and distractedly gazed through the opened books, spotting Amelia’s distinguished handwriting on a white sheet filled with surgical notes next to a small computer.

Without anything to keep him busy, Owen flipped through the pages of the heavy neurosurgery textbook Amelia had obviously used to prepare her classes for the residency program a while before. The volume looked a few years old, despite well kept. He was still aimlessly looking at the pictures when he reached a chapter about intracranial shunts. His eyes were too distracted with the words when suddenly, a squared piece of paper slid from between pages.

After reaching for the floor, Owen stood still for a moment, holding the old photograph in his hands. It had probably been taken a few years before, because Amelia’s hair was longer than he ever remembering seeing and she looked to be in her late twenties. Wearing dark pants and a light grey shirt, Amelia looked as casual as she looked worry-free. Owen couldn’t help smiling when he saw the image of her contaminating laughter flawlessly captured by the image. The picture depicted perfectly everything she was: lively, positive, spontaneous and contagiously happy.

“What do you have there?” Her curious voice trailed off his thoughts.

Owen turned around and saw her finishing drying her hair with a towel, looking more adorable than ever in dark leggings and an old Harvard T-shirt. He flashed her the picture, noticing the surprise in her eyes.

“It dropped from the textbook as I was going through the pages.”

“Oh,” Amelia smiled affectionately. “I didn’t even remember that one…” She was taken by surprised. “A residency colleague was passionate about photography… She’d just take the camera everywhere with her. And sometimes, she would capture some moments and have it printed for us. I think I was in my fifth year here.” She said, approaching him and unceremoniously stealing the picture from his hands to take a better look.

Owen noticed the look in her eyes as she studied the image. He could see she was being assaulted by old memories. And judging by her expression, they were good ones.

“I can see clearly nothing much has changed.” He commented charmingly. She still looked every bit as gorgeous as she had on the day the picture had been taken.

Amelia smiled at him, on purpose taking a step closer as she took his hands in hers and played with his fingers.

“You don’t have to be upset that I slept with Mark,” She decided to go straight to the point. With Owen, it felt like she could simply speak her mind and the feeling was liberating. “This is not the same as that.” Amelia explained, obviously meaning their relationship in comparison to her casual hook up with their colleague.

“I am not upset,” Owen lied. He knew he didn’t have any right to feel jealous about her dating history. But that didn’t stop him from feeling it. “You don’t have to explain it to me, Amelia.” He added, hoping to sound supportive.

“It didn’t mean anything and I was just trying to prove a point back then.” She went on, ignoring his words. Amelia wasn’t opening her heart because she felt like she owed Owen any explanations; she was telling him the truth because she wanted him to know how she felt. “You see, all my sisters had already done it, even Addie. And I didn’t want to be the odd man out. As always.” Amelia explained, biting her lower lip with mischief. She didn’t exactly regret sleeping with Mark, but it hadn’t felt too differently to driving her brother’s car or getting into Med School after all her four siblings had already done it. “But with you, it’s different.” She explained, slowly walking Owen to the bed and making him sit on it as she stood between his knees and held his face between her hands. He had just been seduced of the idea of hearing her sweet declaration reinforced when her words surprised him. “You can’t kiss or sleep with any of my sisters. Promise me.” She childishly demanded, watching as Owen’s face lit up with laughter. “I am serious.”

“I don’t even know your sisters, I…”

“Promise me!” Amelia interrupted him, feeling like she was starting to get worked up.

Owen gave up talking and looked into her eyes. She was frowning heavily, almost as if anxious with expectation. The reality that she too could be jealous of him completely won him over.

“I promise.” He smiled, wrapping his arms around his waist and pulling her closer. Amelia was still holding the old picture of her residency days in her hands when he gently took it, giving it one last look before commenting. “You should have this framed. It’s too pretty to be hidden in an old textbook.”

“You keep it,” Amelia replied, not really bothered with the picture. She ran her fingers through the back of Owen’s head, watching as he smiled back at her with affection and contentment. “Are we going to your place or what?” She straightforwardly asked.

“Yes,” Owen took her hand and gently got up, feeling better than he had before. “Let’s go.” He added as Amelia led the way.

Owen had taken the day off and it had served the amazing purpose of clearing his head. After the conversation with Derek earlier that afternoon, he’d finally allowed his mind to go to places where only his heart had wandered so far. It turned out that his old dream of having someone he could share his life and build a family with was still very much alive, and he’d just discovered that. The prospect of having Amelia in it only boosted his desire to accomplish everything.

Taken over by an indescribable sensation of bliss, Owen climbed the steps to his trailer. The moment they entered it, he kicked the door behind them, instantly pulling her to his embrace. He then kissed Amelia with passion, watching her melting in his arms as she moaned his name. He felt absolutely sure that he wanted to do that every night for the rest of his life.

But what Owen couldn’t possibly imagine was that this was the last night he’d go back to his trailer with Amelia in his arms, happily kissing him back. Life and love were too fragile. Things could change in a matter of seconds. And Owen was just about to be reminded of that.

If anyone is curious, I got inspired for the description of Amelia’s picture Owen keeps after stumbling across this image.

#omelia #thejourney #thejourneyfanfiction #owen hunt #amelia shepherd #omeliafanfic #omeliafanfics #omeliaff #omeliafics #omeliafic #greysanatomy #greysanatomyfanfic #amenff

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luobingmeis · 7 years

Text

hawk in the raven nest, chapter three

A/N: thank you all for reading!!! as always, feedback is appreciated. love all of u <3

read on ao3

chapter one

chapter two

At seven-fifty-five that morning, the Ravens were seated in the locker room lounge. No one was changed yet, it was indeterminate what was even happening with practice. There was still no sign of Kevin, and Nathaniel was still livid when he saw Riko. Riko was still feigning concern for his teammate, and Nathaniel was the only one who saw through it.

Nathaniel was sitting next to Jean. He appeared uninterested, idly looking around the room as if he was trying to find something to hold his attention. Nathaniel didn’t miss him tapping his fingers in an erratic beat on his thigh. Andrew sat in the chair to the right of Jean, his head resting lazily on his hand. And Riko sat in the chair closest to the door, leaning back and taking in the surroundings around him. He was probably trying to calculate which striker would best replace Kevin. Nathaniel’s hand tightened on the arm of his couch.

All eyes went to Coach Tetsuji as he walked in and whatever chatter there was quickly died out. Their coach’s eyes skimmed over all of them before he started, “So Riko informed you all that something has happened with Kevin?” When he was met with eager nods, he continued, “Last night, at about nine-forty-five when Riko and Kevin were on their usual run, Kevin was struck in a hit and run.

“They were just on the edge of campus, by the crosswalk, when the driver came up over the curb and hit straight into Kevin. With the fact that the driver came off the road, we assume that they were drunk, but we cannot really know. The car didn’t stop. Riko called nine-one-one from the nearest payphone, and then called me. Kevin was admitted to the hospital unconscious, but fortunately there were no fatal problems.

“Unfortunately, however, the accident did not leave Kevin alright by any means. He has many bruises and cuts, and doctors think a slight concussion, too. Also,” Tetsuji paused. “The accident shattered Kevin’s left hand.”

Tetsuji stopped speaking to let all that information settle over his team.

For a moment, Nathaniel didn’t think that anyone would believe what Tetsuji was telling them. A drunk driver had a hit and run with Kevin on campus, did that much damage, and this was the first time they were hearing about it? How could something so tragic (and so public) that happened to Kevin not reach the Raven’s ears?

It took a moment for it to hit Nathaniel and a cold chill went down his spine when everything clicked together.

The Ravens were completely isolated from the rest of Edgar Allan. While all other athletes stayed in the athletic dormitories, the Ravens lived under their stadium. The Ravens didn’t attend actual classes, they had tutors that dealt with three or four of them at a time. If the Ravens weren’t in the Nest, they were training with at least one other Raven, if not the whole team.

Tetsuji claimed that he kept them all separate to free them of distractions. Outside forces could have a negative effect on their rank in the ERC. Their coach claimed that he wanted their mindset completely focused on Exy.

But really, what better way to carry out the conduct of the Moriyamas and get away with it than to keep his Ravens away from the people who knew the truth? It didn’t matter that there was no drunk driver, it didn’t matter that there was no hit and run. The Ravens weren’t involved in the public life to find out. The Ravens would believe anything Tetsuji said because they never knew anything different.

The only reason Nathaniel didn’t believe it was because he saw the damage with his own eyes, and saw it in the locker room they were in right now. If he hadn’t been there, he would have been believing Tetsuji just like every other Raven was.

Nathaniel shook his head in disagreement, but at that moment everyone took it as disbelief that this was something that happened to one of their prodigies. Everyone in the room was tense. Jean’s fingers continued their erratic tapping. Even Andrew, who still held a facade of apathy, had his hands clenched around the arms of his chair.

Nathaniel looked to Riko and saw that the latter already had his eyes on him. His eyes bore holes in Nathaniel, making sure that he doesn’t step out of line and say anything. In all the anger Nathaniel felt, a part of him felt a sense of satisfaction at how much Riko depended on him to keep his gruesome secret.

“That’s his playing hand,” someone said, Nathaniel didn’t catch who.

Tetsuji nodded. “I… I have a feeling that Kevin won’t be playing Exy again. The doctor believes that injury is too severe to ever heal to a state where he could safely use his left hand again. We will have to drop Kevin from his contract for the Ravens. He’s coming back in two days after the surgery on his hand. He already knows.”

It took all but a second for all the Ravens to erupt. All but Riko, Nathaniel, and Andrew. Through all the shouting over one another, all demanding what this means for their season, all begging to find the non-existent driver involved in the non-existent accident, Riko, Nathaniel, and Andrew said nothing. They were part of the inner circle, those around them would think that they were just in shock upon hearing that they were losing their number two. No one would ever consider the fact that Riko was the one who did it, Nathaniel was the one bound to secrecy, and Andrew was beginning to assume that foul play was in order.

Coach Tetsuji cut them off, telling them that they had to cut the talk short because they had a practice to run. No one defied him. They all fell back into line and left to get ready for practice as quickly as they broke into chaos.

Nathaniel was suddenly sickened by their hivemind. The Ravens so quickly believed everything they heard, so quickly broke into chaos and came back to their senses, so quickly dropped everything going on to return to Exy. Nathaniel always saw something off with the Ravens because those who were bought by the Moriyamas tended to have a different perspective than those who were recruited. But it was never enough to prompt him to really step back and look at the environment they were subjected to. He always thought the isolation was a bit odd, but he never considered it a problem until he realized they all believed Tetsuij’s and Riko’s lies so quickly. He always saw how obsessive everyone was with Exy, but he didn’t realize how consuming it was until everyone dropped the thought of one of their best teammates being seriously injured so that they could practice as normal. He thought back to a couple weeks ago, when Jean repeated what Riko said about Kevin putting Andrew in his place; he thought about how all the Ravens ended up having similar thoughts and opinions on topics, teams, teammates; he thought about how they all listened to each other because it was just a thing Ravens do. The Ravens didn’t think for themselves, they just believed what others told them and what others thought because that was what had always been done. Nathaniel trailed behind the rest of the team into the locker room and suddenly could see all the manipulation that had been done to them.

How many lies had been fed to them that they so blindly believed because Tetsuji was their main form of authority? How many things have they just nodded along to because Riko, their captain, said so?

Nathaniel felt nauseous that, after all these years of being in Castle Evermore and seeing Ravens through the generations until he finally became one, it took him this long to realize how truly fucked up things were. He lived his whole life knowing that he was property, that Jean would be the only person truly on his side. He lived his life in isolation. He lived a life of torture and abuse from his captain. And he hated it. But he hated it for the wrong reason. He hated it because he didn’t have a different life, when really he should have been hating it because it fucked up the life he had now.

Every Raven had a love-hate relationship with the Raven dynamic. They all grew to hate each other and to then end up hate-fucking each other. They all were rivals to a degree, fighting for spots on Court. They were all compared to each other, pit up against each other, fought each other, fucked each other. But they all came together for two things: Exy, and destroying whatever was in their way. So yes, they had a love-hate relationship, but they didn’t hate the life they were all living. They learned to hate everything about each other, but never took a step back to see that their environment and how they lived now was what made them all be like this.

As they all stepped onto the court for practice, all Nathaniel could think about how was, for the first time, he would love to never see the court again. Today, even Exy was tainted for him. He hoped that would change, because sometimes Exy was the only thing that made him feel alive.

As Nathaniel stepped out onto the court, he remembered how he once heard that a group of ravens was called a conspiracy. He could see why.

Kevin was a shell of himself when he came back. Over the years, Nathaniel and Kevin had grown apart; however, he knew that the quiet Kevin, the Kevin sitting on the bench, the Kevin unable to look at the court, the Kevin with the wrapped hand and bruised body, was not the Kevin Day that Nathaniel knew. Kevin looked dead inside from the moment he re-entered the Nest. Nathaniel was besides himself when Kevin returned to his room with Riko, but it made sense because what other choice did Kevin have? Just because Kevin didn’t have a contract with the Ravens didn’t mean that they were just going to kick him out of the Nest, therefore, Kevin still had to live with Riko.

After seeing what Riko would easily do, Nathaniel actually felt scared for Kevin whenever he went into his room with Riko. And then he grew livid, because Riko was going to get away with this. Riko had his uncle’s lie to back him up, Kevin would never say anything, and Nathaniel would be killed if he said anything.

The Ravens were going to continue to believe that Kevin was hit by a car, Riko was going to continue to get away with being a hazard to everyone around him, and Nathaniel had to watch it all and be unable to do anything.

Nathaniel so badly wanted to do something. He wanted to fight back, expose the truth. He wanted to make the Ravens open up their eyes and finally see the lies and manipulation and abuse that it had taken himself so long to see. He felt like he couldn’t stand by anymore and let these things happen. But if he spoke the truth, he knew that no one would believe him. Everyone naturally trusted Tetsuji and Riko. They were who had power in the team, of course people would believe them. Nathaniel was a nobody from nowhere, no one would even considering believing what he had to say.

And if Nathaniel said anything, it wouldn’t matter if no one believed him, because Riko would still murder him. And he was no good to the team, no good to Kevin, if he was dead.

Besides, he wouldn’t be able to do that to Jean. Jean and him were paired together, which meant that their successes were viewed as a dual effort, but so were their failures. If Nathaniel stepped out of line, both he and Jean would be hurt. In this entire thing, this entire fucked up thing, Jean was innocent. He was just trying to survive like Nathaniel was, like they all were. Jean didn’t deserve consequences from a fault that was never his.

But during the two days since Kevin’s return, the two days that felt like an eternity, the one question that plagued Nathaniel’s mind was Andrew. Andrew hadn’t been there when Nathaniel found Kevin. He wasn’t there before, during the leading duo’s match. There was no way that Andrew knew because Riko would never tell the truth, Kevin was too scared, and Nathaniel wasn’t stupid enough.

And yet, Nathaniel didn’t miss the way Andrew looked at Riko. No one else would have thought anything different of them, but he recognized the look in Andrew’s eyes. It was a look of distrust, like something wasn’t adding up right but he couldn’t put it together. It was a look Nathaniel knew all too well.

Nathaniel wished he could see what was going on in Andrew’s mind. Maybe he was on the verge of the breakthrough Nathaniel had just had. Maybe Andrew could see the faults in Riko and Tetsuji’s lie. Or maybe Andrew never believed in the Ravens from the start, and was now trying to piece together all the lies so that everything made sense.

Nathaniel didn’t know. He was confused. His head hurt all the time now and his blood boiled at the sight of Riko. He just had a feeling that he wasn’t the only one who was onto Riko, and what he had done to their best striker.

#aftg #tfc #neil josten #nathaniel wesninski #andrew minyard #stuff i write #hawk in the raven nest

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readingraebow · 5 years

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The Prestige Section Two

Part 3 - Part 4: July 12, 1900

1. Who visits the Angier family and why do they come? When Kate was two, Clive Borden visits her parents and brings Nicky, who was then two, along. The kids are shuffled off upstairs to play together for most of the afternoon while the adults talked downstairs. Because Kate was small, she doesn't know exactly what went on but she tries to piece things together. She thinks this was yet another attempt to patch things up between the two families. Clive is the great-grandson of Alfred Borden and Kate's father is the great grandson of Rupert Angier. And, later, when Kate realizes this, she realizes that makes Nick her rival. And the meeting honestly doesn't go well? By the time they all sit down to dinner, the kids aren't exactly behaving and that annoys the adults and makes them turn on each other. The kids are then shuffled out of the room again as the adults are left to fight.

2. What happens to Nicky in the cellar? So Kate's parents take Clive down to the cellar to show him Angier's machine. This was, apparently, what they'd been arguing about. So Kate's father turned it on and got in it and the lightning swirled around him and such. Well he started yelling at Clive to get in it because that's what he wanted. So Clive was holding Nicky and handed him to Kate's father. Well Kate's father ended up throwing Nicky into the machine and it killed him. Kate and her sister had snuck down after the adults and watched the whole thing. And at this point, their mother ushered them back upstairs. But they watched Clive clutching Nicky's lifeless body. So after that, the police were never called and Kate's parents told them that the police wouldn't be involved. And they never knew what happened to Nicky's body but they assumed Clive took it with them. It was only after she grew that Kate realized all of this was weird.

3. What is Nicky's relationship to Andrew? They think that's Andrew's twin. Or, rather, Andrew thinks Nicky is his twin. Kate thinks that they're somehow the same person. She thinks that Andrew is Nicky and that he somehow survived that night. But Andrew said that since he stepped foot in that house, he has felt a stronger connection to his twin. It's like his twin is somehow still there and still connected to the house. And since there's no record that Andrew ever had a twin, there might be a chance that because of the accident that night, the records were altered to erase Nicky's existence.

4. What event in Angier's life changes his circumstances? How does he retaliate? His father dies and his brother inherits the estate. Well, his brother decides to completely uproot their lives and basically kicks their mother out of the house (giving her a small cottage on the estate). He allows Rupert to stay in the rooms he presently occupies until he finishes school. Then he decides that Rupert may remain until he's twenty-one since he's technically his guardian until then. However, Rupert moves to his own lodgings but will still receive an allowance from his brother until he's twenty-one. His brother decided to keep the entire fortune for himself and basically not share it with either his mother or brother so Rupert will have to support himself after he's twenty-one. So he starts his career as an illusionist. However, it doesn't really go well until he meets a woman named Julia and she helps him with his performance. They also begin to perform a mentalist act which does help them make some money while Rupert practices and perfects his illusionist act.

5. What caused Angier's vendetta against Borden? So the Angiers discovered Julia was pregnant and by that time, they'd started conducting séances for a small fee this is where Angier's story begins to align with Bordens. So they'd started interviewing assistants to replace Julia during her pregnancy but hadn't found one suitable. So Julia was still assisting on the day when Borden appeared for the second time. During his struggle to expose Angier, Borden shoved Julia and she fell. Well she insisted she was alright and went to bed that night. But she ended up waking up bleeding and they had to rush her to the hospital where she had emergency surgery. She lost the baby and almost died herself. And, thus, Angier's vendetta against Borden began: because he caused the loss of their child. Which Borden, apparently, never even knew.

6. What makes Angier return to his diary after a ten year absence? So after Borden caused Julia's miscarriage, their feud went strong for a while but when Angier's anger eventually calmed down, he stopped fighting. But then Borden shows up at one of Angier's shows and ends up being one of the volunteers during part of the performance. It was during an illusion involving Angier being tied to a chair and six volunteers from the audience tying the knots. Angier and the chair are then lowered into a water tank where Angier is to escape. But Borden both distracted Angier and tied his knot way too tight. So Angier couldn't get out and almost drowned. Thankfully, it was realized in time and he was pulled to safety but it did ruin the show. And Angier felt that Borden tried to kill him and it renewed his anger once more and restarted the fire in the feud all over again.

7. Who is Root and what is the problem with him? When Angier replaced Borden for a booking, he read the contract and saw that a replacement act should be as similar to the act it was replacing as can be. So Angier decided he would try to incorporate Borden's Transported Man illusion. So he found a double: Root. Well, the illusion went well and for a while, it was a sensation. It was requested at all of Angier's bookings and could even double his earnings when performed. However, Root was a heavy drinker and would often show up to shows drunk. Angier tried to talk to him but it literally didn't work. Because assistants know a lot of secrets so they have a lot of power. And when Angier tried to talk to him, he ended up giving Root a raise. But then Borden went on a tour of Europe and without Borden to compete with, Angier no longer needed to include the illusion in his act so he discontinued it and fired Root.

8. How does Borden update his Transported Man illusion? So Angier started performing the illusion again but with a different double. But the audience wasn't impressed? That's when he heard that Borden had changed his act and his illusion was now much better. So Angier visited one of Borden's performances to see how the illusion had changed. Borden incorporated electricity into his act and he would grab two heavy wires and bring them together to make an electrical connection. Then he would vanish from where he was standing (the two wires falling to the floor) and instantly reappear on the other side of the stage. And then, once moved, he produces a flower chosen by an audience member earlier in the show. And Angier doesn't know how it's done but, at this point, thinks that Borden doesn't use a double.

9. What plan does Olivia propose? What is in the envelope she eventually gives Angier? Borden has been advertising for an assistant so Olivia plans to apply for the position. She means to go work for Borden, learn the secret behind his Transported Man illusion and come back and tell Angier. Because she realizes that all Angier really wants. But Olivia leaves and doesn't come back. She sends for all her things without a word to Angier. And, eventually, when she does come to visit him to explain, she tells him he must end his feud with Borden and, if he agrees, she will give him the envelope containing Borden's secret. Angier agrees and when he opens the envelope, printed inside is one word: Tesla.

10. After receiving the envelope, where does Angier go and why do you think he does this? Angier goes to Colorado Springs to meet Nikola Tesla. He goes, presumably, to discover Borden's secret for himself. But he ends up learning a lot about electricity and Tesla's contribution to it. He ends his first visit by Tesla inviting him back and Angier saying he has a proposition. So I think Angier wants Tesla to build him a machine like Borden's.

Section Two Reading Journal

Okay so. I’m still not really ~loving this book. But I’m also not hating it either. Some parts of it I think are really good but some parts just feel really unnecessary. I still really don’t like the grandkids bit. I think that feels really unnecessary. You can very easily create the same twist with the magicians, as seen in the movie.

Angier’s journals, however, are fascinating and I’ve really been loving reading them. I do like that, with the book, we get more of each magician’s side of the feud rather than just seeing the whole thing more straightforward, as in the movie. Seeing it from two different perspectives is fascinating. It feels like you get to know each of the magicians a little better.

However, there are a few very bit changes in Angier’s story. In the movie, the feud started because of Julia’s death. But in the book, Borden causes Julia to miscarry. I honestly think Julia’s death is a little more powerful?? Especially since she’s essentially what started Angier’s career since she critiqued him a lot and worked with him in the earlier stages. That’s just a personal preference but when I read that I was like ????? That doesn’t seem as powerful to me???

Also. Let’s talk about Tesla. Because now I’m super curious. I know we won’t have an answer to this until the next section but Borden also worked with Tesla??? Is he cloning too?? Because I don’t like that as much....? And honestly if that’s what’s happening here... if Angier gets a machine built that’s just like Borden’s and literally just exactly copies him and they’re both cloning, I’m honestly going to be upset. Because I don’t like that at all....? But I’ll have more on that if that’s what’s really happening here. So I guess to be continued after I read the next section.

Honestly, I think I would’ve liked this more if I hadn’t seen the movie first. But since I have, I definitely see a lot of flaws with this book and a lot of things I think the movie did better. So it’s making it really difficult for me to enjoy this book. But, as I said, I’m not hating it. I’m just not really loving it either. But I can’t wait to finish and see what happens!

#trcbooks #2015: the prestige #2015 reading challenge

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imagine-ikebukuro · 7 years

Text

tagged in a few things

more under the cut!

92 truths meme

Tagged by: @glitzcake thank u!

LAST…

[1] Drink: orange juice

[2] Phone call: a friend of mine, annika

[3]Text message: my brother

[4] Song you listened to: this remix, i’m obsessed with it lately!

[5] Time you cried: aw shit, a few days ago? last weekend? idk man

HAVE YOU EVER…

[6] Dated someone twice: no

[7] Been cheated on: nope

[8] Kissed someone and regretted it: yup

[9] Lost someone special: kind of? but… more in a sense of drifting apart rather than someone passing away

[10] Been depressed: not diagnosed, but i’m pretty sure my mental health is not at its best at all

[11] Gotten drunk and thrown up: lmao yes and not only once either

LIST THREE FAVOURITE COLORS…

[12] grey!

[13] turquoise!

[14] burgundy!

IN THE LAST YEAR…

[15] IN THE LAST YEAR…

[16] fallen out of love: nah

[17] laughed until you cried: pretty sure

[18] found out someone was talking about you: people be talking shit 24/7 and all i gotta say about it: I DON’T CARE AS LONG AS IT’S ABOUT ME

[19] met someone who changed you: mhhhh, no not really

[20] found out who your true friends are: definitely!

[21] kissed someone on your facebook list: yeeeaaah? could’ve been in 2015, my sense of time is terrible Dx

GENERAL…

[22] how many of your facebook friends do you know in real life: 90% of people, 5% others are friends i’ve known for several months or years over the internet and 5% are random people or some “celebrities” i found lmao

[23] do you have any pets: no, sadly not ;;

[24] do you want to change your name: i’m fine with my name, tbh!

[25] what did you do for your last birthday: i went to the museum and ate sushi with my family and a few weeks later had a party with my friends

[26] what time did you wake up: today? 8am

[27] what were you doing at midnight last night: watching youtube videos

[28] name something you cannot wait for: to finally be accepted to college and not being nervous about applying for university and everything, but have it all sorted out

[29] when was the last time you saw your mother: she’s sitting in the same room as me right now

[30] what is one thing you wish you could change about your life: if i could go back in time, i would do anything to have my father and i get along properly today

[31] what are you listening to right now: a zelda remix playlist

[32] have you ever talked to a person named tom: actually, yes, i had a huge crush on someone named tom, he was two classes above me during middle school

[33] something that is getting you nervous: the thought of me getting my wisdom teeth removed tomorrow, ugh. also, general organization and planning shit, like applying for college, moving out of my hometown, living on my own very soon, being forced to meet new people, all that jazz.

[34] most visited website: i guess tumblr? even though, lately, it’s probably youtube

[35] elementary: 2004 - 2008

[36] high school: graduated last year

[37] college: i can apply for my first semester next week. if i’m accepted, i’ll start going there in fall this year.

[38] hair color: i’m a ginger, so red-brown

[39] long or short hair: short! i cut it into an undercut like almost 2 years ago

[40] do you have a crush on someone: no, i avoid that shit

[41] what do you like about yourself: my eye color?

[42] piercings: i literally got zero piercings, not even on my ears, but i wish i had an industrial piercing and i used to really want flesh tunnels, maybe i’ll get there eventually

[43] blood type: i actually don’t know :^)

[44] nickname: some people call me lilly, some call me li. the villagers in my animal crossing town call me ukeprince, wot

[45] relationship status: married to the neighbour’s cat which i saw from my window and went out for just to pet it about 500 times by now

[46] zodiac sign: virgo!

[47] pronouns: they/them, she/her, he/him

[48] fav tv show: at the moment i’m watching PLL (but i don’t like it at all so rip) my favorite’s gotta be buffy the vampire slayer!

[49] tattoos: none yet

[50] right or left hand: right handed

FIRST…

[51] surgery: i had surgery in my mouth last year and like mentioned above, i’m getting my wisdom teeth removed tomorrow, if that counts

[52] piercing: none

[53] best friend: she’s not even active on tumblr anymore, rip, her name’s lydia though IF YOU READ THIS, THEN HELLO MY BRO

[54] sport: i’m planning to swim regularly again after recovering and healing up from surgery

[55] vacation: if it counts, my first ever “vacation” was the music festival Rock im Park 2013 with my father and a good friend of mine

[56] pair of trainers: no clue

RIGHT NOW…

[57] eating: nothing

[58] drinking: orange juice

[59] i’m about to: maybe get to playing some loz: botw

[60] listening to: still the loz remix playlist

[61] waiting for: anxious feelings to pass

[62] want: a huge cup of coffee

[63] get married: nopedy nope, i don’t fixate myself on wishing to get married. if it happens, it happens and i’ll be happy about it, but if not, then that’s cool on my terms, too!

[64] career: i’m working on becoming a teacher (i want to teach german, english and ethics in high schools)

WHICH IS BETTER…

[65] hugs or kisses: honestly, it depends, but generally, i’d say hugs

[66] lips or eyes: eyessss

[67] shorter or taller: i don’t care, both is nice

[68] older or younger: as long as it’s pretty close to my age, i don’t mind

[69] romantic or spontaneous: neither LMAO if i had to chose, romantic, bc i’m as spontaneous as a potato, i gotta plan ahead, bruh

[70] nice arms or nice stomach: stomach! and by that i mean any kind of stomach! ripped af or soft, i’m weak.

[71] sensitive or loud: sensitive

[72] hook up or relationship: relationship

[73] troublemaker or hesitant: a nice balance between the two would be cool. let’s be real though, troublemakers always catch my eye, even though i’m quickly annoyed by them just as well wtf is wrong with me

HAVE YOU EVER…

[74] kissed a stranger?: no

[75] drank hard liquor?: yes

[76] lost glasses/contact lenses?: no wtf i’d be walking around half blind

[77] turned someone down: yes

[78] sex on first date?: no

[79] broken someone’s heart?: apparently so

[80] had your own heart broken?: at the time i think i would’ve called it that, but honestly, it wasn’t that horrible, so nah?

[81] been arrested?: no

[82] cried when someone died?: yeah

[83] fallen for a friend?: do lowkey crushes count in which you gush over how amazing someone is? platonic crushes? it’s a thing.

DO YOU BELIEVE IN…

[84] yourself?: i used not to, but lately i’m more confident i think!

[85] miracles?: not really

[86] love at first sight?: no

[87] Santa Claus?: no

[88] kiss on the first date?: sure

[89] angels?: no

OTHER…

[90] current best friend’s name: Lydia

[91] eye color: greyish-green (if i cry or sometimes late at night they’re really GREEN!)

[92] favorite movie: nightmare before christmas!

10 questions ask game.

tagged by @peacefuldesires thx!

What things make you smile and all warm-fuzzy inside? CATS no seriously, i can have the worst day, but when i walk home and get to pet a cat on the way, i instantly better. i remember coming home after my last final exam all upset and a cat meowing at me and purring and wanting to cuddle with me and i couldn’t help but smile!

What things make you feel a bit sad (don’t push yourself to answer this one)? my current family situation, there’s a bit of drama and fights going on.

What things inspire you to grow? anything and everything, to be honest. there’s new things you experience and learn every single day. things you conquer and master just fine and mistakes you make and all of them shape you into knowing what to do next time a bit more.

The last song(s) that you couldn’t stop listening to? i can’t really think of anything right now, uhhhh, i’ve been listening to the trust me durarara!! ending lately again haha

5. Are you an introvert/extrovert/ambivert? What kind (are you a shy extrovert, super confident introvert, or perhaps a really confused ambivert :0)?: i’m an introvert through and through. i wouldn’t say i’m exceptionally shy nor super confident. i’m somewhere in between. it really depends, around my friends i’m outgoing and cheering and with certain strangers, especially if i know i have to talk with them for literally no longer than 3 minutes right now (i.e. a cashier or someone you walk past) then i’m polite and rather talkative. i just feel exhausted even after spending a lot of time with friends, though the time was enjoyable, but i need my alone time for sure.

What calms you down? the triangle breath! it’s my favorite method to use whenever i feel anxious, upset, angry, or just need to stop and pause for a few minutes. you picture a triangle in your mind (you can even trace it with your finger, or if you can draw it on a piece of paper). you take a breath in through your nose, tracing one side of the triangle. then you breathe out through your mouth, tracing the second and third side of it. other than that, listening to music, taking a nap, petting a cat, watching videos of cats or other cute stuff, sometimes playing a video game.

A character that you really relate to (perhaps you have similar personalities, or maybe you came from similar backgrounds)?: this is gonna sound trashy, but saeyoung choi from mystic messenger and there’s a story behind it too. my friends were playing it way before me and told me “there’s this character that looks just like you, you know nerd glasses, messy red hair, always wearing a baggy black hoodie. he even acts like you, making puns and using memes ALL THE TIME!” and it’s true lmao. also, kaneki ken to some extent? like i really resonate with his personality, the choices he makes, his thoughts speak to me, he’s pretty harsh on himself and goes through ways that are self destructive if he can help others with it.

One thing you love learning? language, it’s just fascinating to me.

Angst or fluff? ANGST, I AM THE ANGST QUEEN, COME ON

If you punch yourself, does that mean you’re strong or does that mean you’re weak? neither and a little bit of both at the same time. let’s go deep in on this one and take the “punch” as emotional self loathing. bashing yourself down definitely doesn’t mean you’re strong, it doesn’t make you tough at all, it only means you’re harsh on yourself. it doesn’t make you weak either. you’re making yourself believe you are weak, but the fact that you endure that and still have the power to do so, means you’re tougher than you’re think.

MY QUESTIONS:

Now that spring’s here, what’s your favorite thing about this season and what do you not like about it?

What’s your spirit animal? Literally. Which animal do you think resembles your inner self and why? (maybe your Patronus, if you know it?

What’s your go-to order at a café?

Do you consider yourself to be creative?

If you could go back in time and change something, would you? If so, what? If not, why?

Where do you see yourself in 20 years from now?

Home sweet home, what makes you feel comfortable in your own home? What’s the overall aesthetic of your room, any colors, textures, an atmosphere, do you maybe keep many stuffed animals or posters or plants?

What do you think is most important when it comes to friendship?

What’s something you improved in since last year?

Werewolves or Vampires, which are cooler?

I tag: @imagine-your-party-hosts || @obsessivefujoshi || @dotaccino || @mollyxmousey || anyone who wants to do this

#i was tagged #shut up liane #long post for ts #not drrr

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