#i started taking meds two days ago and over those two days i've felt even more dead energy-wise than before. if that's even possible

[seaofreverie]

Wanted to start working on projects for my part-time school this weekend but instead all I have the energy to do is lay in bed and play mario kart or lay in bed and listen to music

[lokavisi]

This vent turned Loki Appreciation Post™️ got rather lengthy, so I'm gonna pop it under a line so it doesn't take up too much space on your feed. But I do appreciate it if you read it. I need some good vibes...

I don't really talk much about my personal life on this blog, but I've been having a Week™️. Well, maybe Two Weeks™️. Two weeks ago, my wife and I had the beginning stages of a cold and accidentally passed to 3/4 other people in our TTRPG group. We got over the cold, and last Monday night/Tuesday morning, we were in the ER because my wife was having such intense upper abdominal pain. She seems to experience acid reflux in an atypical way. The meds they gave her have been helping, so that seems to be what it was, but now she's getting a sore throat again. We went to the clinic today. She got a strep, flu, and COVID test, which all came back negative, so the person said she likely picked up a virus while at the ER. (Even though we were both masked the entire time, there is still always a possibility.) Now I can't tell if I'm getting sick, too, or if I'm just stressed out of my mind. I've been taking care of her for the majority of this past week and haven't really been able to take care of myself in the ways that I need to. On the few days she was feeling ok, I went to some overstimulating events that I don't feel like I fully recovered from, either. I've been holding back a full breakdown all day, but short periodic cries have helped relieve some tension.

And here's where I'll tie it in to Loki: last night, I decided to do some journeywork since I haven't in a good while. I thought it might also be some good self-care time to visit the little home space I've made with Loki and his family. The thing is, Atlas was the one to great me as soon as I entered trance. In chatting with him a little, it was obvious that Loki called on him to really drive home the "you don't have to carry/aren't carrying the whole world on your shoulders" message. After this realization, it took me a second to really lock onto Loki's energy so I could talk with them about it. When I finally did, they showed me all these key stepping stones of progress in my journeying practice, especially finding and traveling to different locations. So they asked, "Why do you want to come to this place you spend so much time in?" Referring to our little home space. I broke down, and when I heard myself speak, it was like I was hearing a child. I was saying I just "wanted to see daddy" (i.e. Loki) and I didn't like that every task I picked up felt like a whole world for me to carry. Then I started apologizing to nearly every major deity in the Norse pantheon for not doing any of the work we've spoken about doing together. Each time I named one, they appeared before us. I was bawling into Loki's chest as they held me, and I could feel the tears and snot dripping down my actual physical face, too. As I did, I shifted into a toddler. Loki wasn't just hugging me. He was holding me, my legs around his waist with his right arm under my butt to hold me up. He motioned to everyone around us, saying that they are all family and part of this home space. Like my inner circle. Then he referenced me going to other circles (i.e. learning about and working with deities or spirits from other pantheons and practices) as a way for me to learn. And that they will all still be here for me even when I venture out to "meet new people" and that some people I meet may even join us in our inner circle. Cue Apollo walking up to us, holding his arms out for me to go to him. Loki passed me over to him like a parent handing their kid off to a babysitter or family member. There were a few small things that happened after that, but I'm still so struck by that sense of family. I felt so much more relaxed crying into Dad's (Loki's) arms. I felt safe and loved, and I felt safe and supported even when I was handed off to Apollo.

I'm really holding on to the comfort of those moments right now as I still try to care for myself in this moment. I am slightly dreading the inevitable inner child work that this was also clearly alluding to, just because I know it will be a lot emotionally, but it clearly needs to be done, right? It feels like a lot to maintain my current practices and deity relationships AND explore new ones. That in and of itself feels like taking on the world, and that doesn't even include all of the mundane adulting shit I have to do every day. I've just been so overwhelmed and overstimulated this week. I need everything to just stop for a second. I need to not be needed for just a little while. I need to be held for just a little longer until every last ounce of tension gets released from my mind and body. I need to get 10-12 hours of sleep for the next few nights. Gods, give me strength and rest, please. 🙏

[thedepthsoffandomminds]

Maze runner chapter nineteen

Previous chapter

Masterlist

Newt walked with you to the med tent where Thomas was sitting inside. The doctor was talking him through the immunity process having taken some of his blood, processed it and administered it to Brenda.

“Sorry Doc, we were just wondering if you check y/n’s arm.” Newt said sheepishly, concern filled Thomas's eyes.

“Sure, come here.” She patted a stool for you to sit on.

“She was…bitten about four days ago.” Newt said. The doctor looked at him and then you, suddenly very worried. Having removed your coats you hold your arm out to her and she gawks at it. She takes hold of your arm and twists it a little really taking in what she was seeing.

“You were bit by a crank?” She asks and you nod, “and nothing, no symptoms of turning?” You shake your head. “This is remarkable. You're healing wonderfully. Even with other immunes I've never seen this.” She uses some medical equipment to clean up the wound a little and ensure no other infections could get in before wrapping it in a clean white bandage.

“Usually, with immune kids we see them turn to some degree, they get the anger but after a few days it subsides. Do you mind if I take some of your blood? Just to take a look?”

You agree and she draws the smallest amount before putting on a glass slide to check below a microscope.

“Fascinating. Your blood is actually killing the virus.” She laughs, “wow no wonder she wanted you.”

“In the maze, well the control room I saw a list of the kids. Me, Newt, Minho and Thomas were highlighted. I'm not sure why.” You say.

The doctor thinks for a moment, then darts from the tent, leaving you all alone.

“Why didn't you tell us, y/n?” Thomas asks.

“I was scared, after Winston I just…” meets hands rubbed your shoulders and he kissed the top of your head. It seemed like now he had done it once there was no way he would stop kissing you, any part of you.

The doctor came back in with a folder of things in her hands.

“Here, look, the four of you scored the highest on all the tests, Minho a little lower but you three, you were her hopes. She put you two in early to try the breeding experiment.”

“The what?” You gawked, “what are those?”

“Thomas sent them to me, it's a copy of Ava's notes. Ava was convinced if immune kids had children together it would yield more immunes and better results. A master race of guinea pigs.”

“That's why they did the pregnancy test.” Thomas interjected.

“The what?” Newt looked between you all.

“At the facility.” You say quietly. Newt thought for a moment and then said, “I need to go.” He turned on his heel and left. You weren't sure what to do so you just sat there awkwardly.

“Come on, let's get you some food.” The doctor led you out.

The rest of the day seemed almost uneventful as you all settled into this new life. You ate and talked with other immunes and finally started to feel like you might be safe. The boys and you all take a seat on top of a small rock formation. Mai Mai sat beside you and Newt on the other side. The sun setting over the idyllic setting.

“I wish Alby could've seen all this.” Newt said.

“And Winston.” Frypan agreed

“And Chuck.” Thomas played with the small figure Chuck had made.

“He'd be proud of you, you know, Tommy.” Newt said to him.

“Yeah.”

“And Gally.” You sigh. Newt pulls you closer to him, wrapping his arm around his face. Thomas looked at you with his eyebrows drawn in.

“He was my friend, all he wanted was peace and safety for all of us.” You try to sniff away the tears.

“Yeah, yeah he did.” Minho agreed with a sigh.

“Hey, Aris!” Frypan called down to him

“Hey, guys!” Aris waved back, he was sitting between Harriet and Sonya. In a way it felt like he should've been sitting with you.

“I kinda like that kid.” Frypan laughed.

“Yeah. I still don't trust him, though.” Minho joked. You all laughed for a moment. Newt removed his arm from you and blew onto his gloves hands. He shuffled himself slightly away from you so you weren't touching anymore.

“Hey, where's Teresa?” Thomas asked.

“She went up there.” Newt pointed to a higher Rockford where Teresa was standing looking out to the horizon. As he walks away you turn to Mai Mai and stroke her. The tiger puts her large head on your lap and the warmth of her seeps into your skin.

“Guys, I'm really glad we all made it.” You say to them.

“Yeah, us too, y/n” Minho reached across and patted the tiger. You look at him but are distracted by two lights in the distance.

“What is that?” You ask standing up. The others turn and look. Several burgs were flying in and the noise that had been creeping up, now deafening.

“Run!” Frypan shouted as he grabbed your hand.

The chaos was instant, with people running around in every direction you got separated from the group. You trip on a rock and hurtle to the floor. Before you could stop him a man was kneeling above you. You struggle against him and manage to kick him off but as you scramble to your feet an explosion goes off beside you. It sends you flying into a pile of boxes. Your head smacks against the floor.

“It's the girl, get her in the burg.” you hear a voice you recognise commands a soldier.

You're too weak to fight back. In the distance you see Mai Mai defending Newt before being stunned by an electric shot.

The next thing you feel is cold metal against your face. Your hands are bound and then Teresa is standing above you but you can't hear what she is saying. A sharp scratch in the side of your neck has your eyes dropping and then, nothing, darkness

Next chapter

@fandomfan-102 @deanstolemydragon @afalls14universe @akilaporu001

[midnakoopa]

Vent Post About Anxiety

Past couple weeks have been pretty rough. Thought I'd post about it here. More for me to put my thoughts in order than anything, but if you wanna read it, go ahead. Long post, venting about trauma ahead.

So, near the end of February, I'd noticed I was tired a lot more, and sleeping a lot more. I'd thought maybe it was the weather shifting, maybe it was a bit of the seasonal depression. Who knows at this point?

But then I was getting a bit of a pain in my stomach. Sides? Abdomen? That general area. That with the usual stresses made me think of something I've dealt with before, and know how to treat. I'll skip the details on that; not so relevant. Anyway, I went to treating that how I usually do.

And maybe it would've worked out fine. Who knows? But I guess it hurt just enough for just long enough to kick my anxiety awake. And my anxiety just got worse over the next week or so. And of course, anxiety gets bad enough, it starts making existing symptoms worse due to stress and whatnot. And then the physical symptoms getting worse makes the anxiety worse. It just feeds on itself.

Now, I'm on meds for anxiety disorder. And one thing I've noticed more and more recently, is that they seem to work fine for that, for keeping me from being anxious all the time. But when things get super stressful, they don't do enough to stop an anxiety attack.

So, a little over a week ago, it got bad enough that I scheduled an appointment to talk to my doctor, about maybe adjusting my current meds, but also getting an emergency med for anxiety attacks, which wow I've been on anxiety meds for as long as I can remember how did I never have a rescue medication?

I don't know what it was about this time in particular, but this is the worst my anxiety's been in ages, maybe even the worst I can currently remember. In just the week before I saw my doctor, broke down crying four times. Two of those times were in one night (the night just before the appointment). It's good that I saw the doctor, but turns out an appointment to keep when your anxiety's making your sleep schedule a mess becomes yet another stressor.

Anyway. I saw the doctor. I got my meds adjusted, got an emergency med, and it's only been a couple days but my anxiety hasn't spiked up again yet. Fingers crossed there. Not 100% yet. I dunno if I'm 60% yet. But I'm better than a few days ago, I think.

On a slightly different tangent. Another main reason I'm typing this is to record how I felt while it's fresh in my mind.

The words that keep coming back to mind are "cold shock". It's like a cold shock that starts in the head and attacks a few different places. I say "shock", but it doesn't quite feel electric, so much as like it's sapping... something. It's gonna sound dramatic, but, it really feels like an attack on the mind, on the soul even.

Just this awful feeling that something is taking something from you. Something that you need to survive. And it takes whatever that something is until all that's left is "I just can't".

As for the more describable symptoms... Heartburn, of course. Or acid reflux, I forget the differences. A queasy or discomforting feeling in the stomach. A couple times, I felt like my legs were getting weak and shaking. That also could've been from not eating enough due to the other symptoms.

But it's that cold shock, that attack on the mind, that's the worst of it. That two-pronged attack of this overwhelming feeling of dread, and the sense that nothing you can do will help that feeling, so why do anything?

That feeling that you. Just. Can't.

To sum up, I'm feeling slightly better at the moment, and hopefully the worst of it's over. But, fuck, man. I'm just so exhausted from this, physically and mentally.

[wyrdify]

This is not at anyone here. This is at the U.S. healthcare system, particularly as it relates to neurodivergent trans people. Rant below the cut.

So, back in April, I asked my med manager for a referral to get evaluated for autism. Said med manager does not do it herself since she doesn't do diagnoses, and neither does the facility she works at, so she referred me out. I was then told that the place will be in touch with me to get me scheduled, and this may take up to 6-12 months as they have a waiting list. But, I can check on that referral at any time by calling them. Cool.

More background information: I started taking Effexor more than a month ago (probably close to two months now) since Zoloft, my old anti-depressant, wasn't really working. I noticed that, on the 75 mg dose of Effexor, I sometimes experienced brain fog, muscle weakness, and other things I associated with my seizures. Effexor worked, but I felt it was also lowering my seizure threshold. Med manager, who prescribed the Effexor, told me to contact my neurologist about it since my neurologist handles my epilepsy. Fine. No problem. That usually isn't an issue.

I couldn't reach my neurologist. I called her office at least twice and had her medical assistant call me back, who promised me my neurologist would call me back. That never happened. So, I tried another method, which was MyChart. I sent a message to my neurologist there on July 6, and I never heard back. Nothing. I don't see her until the end of November, so now I need to try and basically move up my appointment just to get a basic question about a prescription answered. I schedule my appointments with her a year in advance, so I don't know how much luck I'll have there.

So, that's one fail of the U.S. Healthcare system. Let's move on to what happened yesterday and today.

Yesterday, I meet with my med manager to go over a few things. I bring a list with me because not only has it been about a month since I last saw her, but I wanted to get the ball rolling on a couple other things. I wanted to see if an evaluation for ADHD was separate from the one I was getting for autism, and I wanted to get a referral letter for top surgery. For those who've known me for a while, you've known I've lived with gender dysphoria since 2016-17. It's been a long time. I want to get that started now and not keep waiting around.

What she ended up telling me: an ADHD eval is part of the autism one I'm going to have since it's a full neuropsych eval. Okay, that makes sense. Cool. I move on to the next subject: top surgery. She tells me to go to a place in the city to talk to them about surgery. They don't do anything with top surgery. Yes, they do gender affirming healthcare, but I was specifically asking for a referral letter. I looked into what I needed for top surgery in my state before this appointment (not directly before, but days before). I need at least one letter from a mental health provider for it. Why did my med manager refer me to somewhere that doesn't do that and will likely just tell me to go back to her?

She said that she or my therapist, who works in the same facility, could write the letter, but still. STILL. She sent me to another place first. I am a trans person who doesn't need hormone therapy. I need top surgery. My gender dysphoria is well documented in their system. I checked. It became abundantly clear to me in that moment that she doesn't have many trans patients. At all. That facility in general probably doesn't considering the last med manager I had there was transphobic. Anyway.

Today: I called this morning to check on the status of my referral for the neuropsych eval. It turns out that they couldn't accept my referral because they don't have a specialist, so they sent it back for my PCP to handle (same facility as my med manager and my therapist). My med manager didn't see this at all. I'm not even sure she was looking at my chart to be honest. If she did, maybe she would've saw this and said, "Oh, I need to refer you to somewhere else or have your PCP do it." But no, I get to be back at square fucking one again. Because I couldn't ask my med manager to get that referral for a neuropsych exam. I had to go through my PCP to do it. Make it make sense.

I am so goddamn frustrated with this system. I'm just trying to take care of my health and be somewhat proactive about it, but I fucking can't. At this point, I don't know what to do. I might leave this facility all together and start over with a new PCP, new therapist, and new med manager. But, then I run the risk of not being in therapy for months, not seeing a med manager for months to a year, and not seeing a PCP for months to a year as well. And I'm in the middle of a med change too. Not only that, but I don't want to be a difficult patient or someone who just quits doctors or places willy-nilly. This is my third med manager, fourth therapist, and fourth PCP since I moved here nearly 10 years ago.

I don't know what to do. What the hell do I do? I want to cry, scream, rage. I hate this healthcare system so much.

[ashers-transition]

1 Month T Update (January 13, 2023)

Here's my one month update for being on testosterone! (Sorry it's a bit late, life got ahead of me).

So far I have noticed no physical changes, so I will be skipping over those portions instead of just saying "no changes" over and over, and instead I'll just include the changes I have noticed.

Please check my pinned post for more info about me and why I started this blog! CWs: eye contact (in video), discussion of menstruation, discussion of appetite and disordered eating. (If I've missed any content warnings that I should include, please let me know and I will add them in).

Menstrual Cycle

So far I have only gotten my period once since starting testosterone, since this is only my one month update. In my pre T post, I mention that I struggle with chronic pain, and that I get a flare whenever I get my period, with the first day being the worst. I started a new pain medication around three months ago that has lessened those flares enough for me to be functional during them.

This month, the first day of my period was absolutely awful. Previously, if I could tell that I was about to get my period I would take some as-needed pain meds the night before to help lessen the flare, but with my new daily pain meds helping so much I stopped doing that for my more recent periods and had been fine so far.

This time, the flare was so bad that I once again was not able to function. My cramps and overall pain were so bad I could barely move, and I honestly felt like crying. I also almost passed out at one point while sitting down (my POTS is decently mild, so this is not normal for me).

I am unable to say whether this is due to the testosterone, or if it's just that my fibromyaligia and POTS decided to flare around the same time I got my period by coincidence. I'm hoping this won't be a trend, cause holy shit that sucked.

Acne

I have noticed a slight increase in acne. It hasn't gotten too bad* yet though, it's basically just like the minor breakouts I get whenever my period starts but all the time.

(*note: I fully believe that acne is a neutral feature and is not inherently bad. It only becomes an issue if it starts negatively affecting you; for example, if it becomes painful. I personally struggle with BFRBs, and acne can be a trigger for me).

Appetite

I have noticed a slight increase in my appetite. I still eat around 2-3 meals a day, but I have begun snacking more in between.

Voice

I personally haven't noticed a difference in my voice, though there does seem to be a difference between my pre T video and this one. I think it's more to do with the fact that I just naturally have a fluctuation pitch depending on how much energy I have to put into trying to lower my voice. I also have not had anyone else notice a change in my voice, including both those that I have told I'm going on T and those I haven't.

[Video description: A waist high video of Asher talking to the camera. End video description.]

[Video transcript: "Hi, my name is Asher, and this is my voice one month on T."]

Other

I mentioned previously that I was going to start taking testosterone gel, due to my BPD and ADHD making me worried about mood swings and forgetting a weekly shot. I still think this would be my ideal method of taking T, however I did end up having a mild reaction to the gel. The pictures are difficult to see, but the gel was very very drying. I knew this could be an issue because the gel is alcohol based, but it was so drying for me that the skin in the area became super rough and even started flaking. (Image one)

The are also gets red and itchy after application, and sometimes it even feels like it's burning a little. (Image two)

Due to this, I will be switching over to taking testosterone through injections, starting at the three month mark. (I paid good money for the gel so I'm going to use it all before switching lol. In the meantime I will be rotating the application area more than I have been).

[rainbowsnoodles]

2024/6/8 - 11:23:36

(talking about depression, unfortunately. just venting/ranting/feel like saying something.)

sorry if this sounds slightly odd/off, but FUCK i love anti-depression meds. ones that actually work, that is.

the past few weeks, the meds i started taking a few months ago have finally kicked in enough for me to feel fucking amazing. they've been very slowly improving my mood and slowly bringing me away from feeling like complete shit, which had been really helping me out, especially with the fact that i'm trying to get into college, so i've been needing to do a lot of work that is nearly impossible for me to do when the depression is kicking my ass. for awhile i thought that working toward doing something that i actually fucking want to be doing, studying something i'm passionate about at a college, something i never thought i'd be able to do because i've been kind of poor my whole life, instead of working in a fucking kitchen (i have zero interest in food stuff), was the thing that was helping me feel better, cause the med took awhile to kick in, and i'm so used to meds not fucking working. but a few weeks ago, i started finding some things that make me really happy, and i've been like.. really fucking happy. happier than i've been in a long fucking time. and the other day, i talked to one of the doctors i go to, we discussed my meds, and i realized that these newer anti-depression meds are really working. like, i realized some weeks or maybe a month ago that they were definitely helping me and keeping me from feeling like shit, they were really helping me get shit done. but now i'm realizing i don't just feel better, i don't just not feel like shit, i feel really fucking good. genuinely happier than i've felt in years. the last time i felt this happy might've been like, 4-6 years ago. holy fuck.

many months ago, one of the doctors put me on a weird med, one i'm worried maybe i might not supposed to be taking but the doctors here are kind of weird, and it was really helping for awhile. it wore off eventually, now it mostly just keeps me from falling asleep all the time, but for awhile it was really helping my mood. but not like this. it's weird.

there's these different kind of emotions. over the past several years, i've learned that there are kind of two different kinds of emotions; ones that feel more genuine, like they're the emotions you're supposed to be feeling, your brain is doing normal, natural, healthy brain stuff. and then there's brain chemicals that are forced into you and force you to feel emotions you wouldn't normally feel in those moments. i really don't know how to help someone imagine what it feels like if they've never felt it before. you can feel the brain chemicals forcing you to feel shit you're not supposed to be feeling. it's honestly kind of scary. uncomfortable. especially when you're getting really stressed out for no reason and crying for absolutely no reason and the tears are forcing themselves out and you have no control over yourself and you can feel how wrong and unnatural it is and it's freaking you the fuck out and stressing you out even more and you're bawling your eyes out in front of a group of strangers and you're trying to explain to them that there's something wrong with your brain that's forcing this to happen and it's not natural and you would never usually cry about something like this, but instead of even at least trying to understand, they just keep fucking saying "it's ok to cry, you don't have to feel bad about it" like MOTHERFUCKER THAT'S NOT WHAT I MEAN. I'M NOT EMBARRASSED BECAUSE I'M CRYING. I'M SCARED BECAUSE I CAN FEEL CHEMICALS FORCING MY BRAIN TO DO SHIT IT'S NOT SUPPOSED TO BE DOING, AND IT'S FREAKING ME THE FUCK OUT. it's a really shitty experience. really scary when it gets really bad. and people don't really understand what you're talking about, and they just assume it's natural and you're just being embarrassed about it and that just makes the situation worse, because there's a big problem that you need help to fix and they're refusing to help you. it doesn't feel good.

and i've mostly experienced this with negative emotions, stress and sadness and anger and depression being forced by imbalanced chemicals, and it's really fucked up a lot of things for me, but with that other med, i learned that it can happen with any emotion. you can even feel fake happiness being forced into your brain. it's a really weird experience. again, really don't know how to explain it to someone who's never experienced it. it feels like happiness, it really does, but somehow something about it gives it away, you can somehow tell it's being forced by chemicals, by whatever you're taking or whatever else is causing it. and that med gave me that kind of happiness. it felt good, it really helped, i really needed it, but i like this one better. it kicked in more slowly, while the other one kicked in like i think either within a few hours or a couple days, but it's really worth it. it doesn't feel forced. i know it is, because it's a med, it's purpose is to force my brain to do what i want it to do, but it really feels way more natural. with the other med, i could tell, it felt really weird and off. but this one, i didn't realize it was caused by the med until i was reminded "oh yea i started taking a new anti-depression med a while ago". i really couldn't tell, it really feels natural. it's so fucking nice. it's so fucking lovely being able to actually feel happy, actually happy, like as if there are things in my life making me feel happy, it feels so fucking good. it doesn't feel like it's being caused by a med, it feels like it's all the nice things that've been going on in my life recently that are making me feel so good. it feels like how i felt 6 years ago. like there are actually things in my life to be happy about. actual reasons to be happy. it feels like my brain is working properly. it feels like it's doing what it's supposed to do, feel happy about the nice things in my life, like it naturally does. this depression, it was caused by shitty life bullshit for a long while, and then after my life got better, it just kept getting worse, and i had no idea why. it felt like more forced brain chemical bullshit, my brain being forced to feel a way it wouldn't naturally feel, forced to feel like complete shit for no reason. which is why i've resorted to meds, because obviously it now takes more than just fixing my life, now my brain won't fucking work properly and i have to force it to go back to being normal. and now, with these meds, i'm realizing it actually does feel that way, like i finally fixed it or something, at least partially. i actually feel like how i used to feel, normal, like my emotions are now actually properly affected by the things that happen to me and not forced to feel a way for no fucking reason, regardless of what happens to me. i feel like how i used to feel. more normal. which is the craziest shit. it's been 6 fucking years. holy shit.

i can listen to music that makes me feel good and look at stuff on social media that makes me feel good and i can actually feel good, not fucking dead inside and depressed and incapable of actually being happy because fucking i don't know, life just hates me i guess. i don't know why my brain stopped working like it's supposed to. does that happen after life has just pushed you down and fucked you up for years? does the depression just kind of start to stay and force itself into you after awhile, regardless of how much your life has improved later? i don't know. but something fucked up my brain. hell, it could've been hormone bullshit. my testosterone stopped working a year or so ago, and my fucked up hormonal bullshit kicked back in, my hormones got all fucked up and i was having panic attacks for no reason and crying for no reason and my arms kept flinching uncontrollably and i kept feeling like i might pass out. after i got that problem fixed, i noticed the depression was getting worse for no reason. maybe, for all i know, my fucked up hormonal problems left an affect on me that refused to go away. i don't know. i have no idea what happened to my brain, but i needed to fix it, and i'm so fucking happy that i finally found something that's fixing it. holy shit.

i just felt like expressing this, it's been making me feel so fucking nice, nicer than i've felt since 6 years ago, which is obviously pretty big, and i'm really happy about it all. i can actually fucking be happy. holy shit. actually happy. not "oh look at this funny meme/video i found haha", actually happy. obviously, a difference that big, after 6 god damn years, is pretty easy to notice. fuck, i feel so nice now. i can actually genuinely enjoy things.

this is why i think assuming all meds are bad just because "it's not natural" is such a horrible idea. a lot of things aren't natural, margaret. you think your shoes grow on trees? i don't see you bitching about toilets. my older sibling does that, refuses to take meds. they're kind of a last resort/later resort kind of thing, obviously you shouldn't turn to meds for just anything, you should only take meds when it's the only/best thing that'll help. but god, they can help. and it's really important to remember that. humans invented medicine for a reason. my brain literally stopped working properly. i had to do something. sometimes shit just happens and you have to take some meds to fix it. i also have to take meds to keep me from having really bad heartburn every day and meds to keep me from pissing every 2 hours. shit happens. life's a little bitch. sometimes life spits in your eye like a little asshole and you have to spit right back in its eye by taking some pills to keep yourself from wanting to end it all. same with how i had to spit right back in nature's eye by stabbing myself with a needle every week so i can grow a beautiful moustache. shit happens. it's not like the meds i take are any less natural than the instant ramen i'm eating. a lot of good things aren't natural. a lot of bad things are natural. breast cancer's natural.

ranting. this is beyond the point. the point is that i'm happy. fuck. i can listen to music and actually feel good. god damn it. thank fuck for modern medicine. i hope that one day i won't have to take these. but right now i need this. god, this is so much better than laying around feeling like shit about myself.

[c0smicfern]

can't tell how much of this is just in my head. on saturday, i temporarily lost the ability to verbalize twice for a total of like 2-3hrs that day (or at least i felt like i did bc i suddenly couldn't even force myself to speak). but maybe if i'd just... been less anxious / intentional about wanting to speak or even just not acknowledged the thought of, "is it just me, or can we not talk rn?" then maybe it wouldn't have happened?? least of all, twice in one day?? like that's a relatively new sensation in itself since it only started happening during my burnout. the closest thing i experienced before then was... feeling kind of paralyzed in my ability to articulate moreso bc of tension & needing to express myself perfectly. almost like repeatedly trying & failing a speech check. to the point where somebody has asked me a question & i sit there for some time before i'm able to offer a response. but it's not like i literally couldn't speak in those instances bc i still could have forced myself to say *something* in that time. i had just been paralyzed by social anxiety. which isn't what *actually* temporarily losing my ability to verbalize feels like. most of the time, i don't necessarily feel that anxious about it at all unless somebody's pressuring me to speak, which happened on saturday bc it happened at work. i was mostly just kind of pissed off bc i was so overstimulated, though. i went on my lunch break & felt better afterward. which is similar to how i broke out of it at the arcade later that night. but the fact that i was even able to go to the arcade & actually have a good time makes me feel like maybe i made both instances up in my head? it's just. none of this makes any sense. i've been completely fine since then, btw. went to the grocery store to pick up my meds last night & didn't feel overstimulated in the slightest. idk what's going on with me, but maybe i just need to stay away from substances. if i just stay sober, maybe all of this will just go away.

i just feel stuck between these two sides, people & experiences on both sides telling me that i either can't be or that i must be. i'd say i don't care, but that's obviously untrue. more than anything, though, i just want one stable, consistent sense of self. feels like i may never get there, but it's unlikely that it's bpd either, according to my therapist. maybe it's just adhd & i'm experiencing some very rare side effects from the medication? maybe i'm neurotypical & shouldn't be taking this medication at all? i literally don't know, and the inconsistency of my recent symptoms hasn't been helping the distress caused by the not knowing.

i've been... somewhat more repetitive lately, at least in what i'm consuming & thinking about. feels like my focus has been narrowed somewhat. i feel no more consistent in engaging with my hobbies, though. i'm much more tired. i can't even say my executive functioning has gotten any better, though i guess it has in some regards. task initiation & task switching have gotten more difficult, i think. maybe i'm burning out again? god, i fucking hope not. feels like i'm dragging my feet with everything that was... difficult to do before, but that i could generally still force myself to do. laundry's being done much less frequently. i haven't played a video game in... maybe a week. you *Know* i haven't been writing. i've been much worse about getting my hw done when it was almost a habit only a few weeks ago. i just feel *Tired*. might be worth trying to switch over to a stimulant medication, but i worry some of the side effects might... get worse on one of those. if i've been stimming more & getting overstimulated more frequently on a non-stimulant adhd medication, then what would a stimulant do to me? that is, if i can even trust those side effects to be, well, actual side effects of the medication & not a result of drug use. and *that's* the other thing. i don't feel like my impulsivity has actually gotten much better, at least where drugs are concerned. maybe the recent resurgence of my drug usage is an emotional response to what i've been going through, though? i feel like *maybe* the impulsivity has been less in other areas, though. i feel no more need for a routine, nor any more resentment towards change. but i feel a little more consistent in myself. i feel like *maybe* if my executive dysfunction & fatigue weren't impeding me, i could maybe create a routine for myself. i mean, i've been listening to the same 2 songs for like. a week & a half. where i couldn't stand to listen to one song on repeat for more than a day or two before. i've actually kind of preferred being super repetitive in what i've been listening to. point is, my desire for things to stay the same hasn't gone away, but i feel less impeded by my adhd from creating more stability in my life. which, regardless of if i'm actually autistic or not, i've been enjoying immensely. i feel like the conflict in my brain has ceded a fair amount. only, i don't feel any more functional. but again, i'm anxious about trying stimulant medication. either way, i'm talking to my psychiatrist about this all in a couple of weeks. maybe sooner. and who knows? maybe a higher dosage of this medication will be more helpful. it seems unlikely from the number of side effects i've already experienced at the starting dose (difficulty sleeping, daytime drowsiness, nausea, etc.), but i'm trying to keep an open mind. anyway, we'll see. fingers crossed that i'm normal at work tomorrow.

[ghostofasecretary]

i upped my dose of focus meds in October because i was having A Bad Time getting things done. also then Nakba 2.0 started at the same time i switched over and i have been bowled over with grief and shame and nervous energy to take action and more grief

(i was part of a local movement that recently helped stop a "we uncritically support Israel" statement from going forward in the city council, which is probably not very meaningful but i do think it's better than the alternative, so, yay?)

and i have just been feeling. SO shit lately. i have had 5 days from October 7th to now (5/40 days) where i only did one or two things worth recording in my planner, and only 2 from August 27th-October 6th (2/40 days). there were a few extra days in the pre-switch times where i only did 3 things but i don't think i felt so shit then???

and like. i have had great things in the last month-and-change! i have a new class, i've met some cool people, i've had some good social interactions.

i have also been thinking "i want to die" and "i wish i were dead" WAY MORE OFTEN in the past few weeks than i remember thinking previously. i had some rough days during my hellish job situation but was pretty firmly in "being alive is great and i love it, i'm so glad i'm alive" from March to August this year, i think?? so it's kinda scary to be back to "i wish i could sleep forever" and "if i were dead i wouldn't have to feel so bad" and "oh kill me already"

also i have been taking my PRN anxiety meds waaaaaay more than baseline in the last month. the baseline is 0. i got them in December and, though i needed them then, couldn't take them till January, and in January and February i took them rarely, and then i maaaaybe took them once between March and August but certainly not more.

earlier this year i was like "huh, i really don't think i have general anxiety anymore, just PTSD symptoms after major triggers and the occasional hard time with ADHD symptom management" and today i woke up from a nightmare about my shitty ex visiting me (!?) and--i will spare the details but it sucked ass, and plus it took me *twenty minutes* with *another person helping me* to text someone back today and like. some help with unusually stressful communications is normal but i knew i needed help with this as of 3pm yesterday and did not ask for help till, like, 3pm today. which i don't...think?? is normal for me??

oh god i just remembered another crushing anvil of a contact i haven't replied to, fuck my LIFE

i feel like i have the emotional self-awareness of a bug right now

(please no one suggest therapy i think it would make my life much worse actually and though it may look like i have no clue what's happening inside of me, you certainly have less of a clue)

but also, like, there are some unusual stressors. there's a genocide happening. i've seen a lot more dead bodies in the past month than i usually do. the normal number of dead bodies i see is none. ditto the number of injured people covered in the dust of their bombed homes. and it's The Dark Time as of 12 days ago. my whole family was sick and i had to avoid them for most of October. i have no income and grad school deadlines are approaching and both of those facts are bone chilling.

but i think that my meds may be making my anxiety worse and also making my likelihood to have suicidal thoughts a lot higher. i think.

so i probably need to lower my meds.

even though they *have* helped me focus when i can snap out of the hours long borderline-catatonic dread i get locked in and actually do work i need to focus for

it's. maybe not worth it. probably not worth it. it is genuinely hard to tell

(and like--i requested an upped dosage BECAUSE i was really struggling! and having a hard time doing things! and didn't feel like i could focus. and i felt really bad!! but maybe objectively the anxiety and increased-wanting-to-die are bigger and that outweighs the potential benefits)

(like. i don't think i was having *zero* suicidal ideation before the med increase but i think it was. less? i remember the first "oh shit that's not normal" was before one of my Tuesday calls and. hm. i think it was in October that this started. October 17th or maybe even the 24th? though my mental health has been trending down since August, more generally.

trying to figure out how much current events may be impacting me. covid didn't make me suicidal? --actually it kinda did but i had also just been assaulted and had no routine and a ton of pressure and grief and it was a much worse time for me than this. and most of those thoughts were concentrated in a 5 day period of frantic sleepless essay writing. this situation is like. grief that isn't about me. a degree of shame i think is reasonable to feel. not "i am the worst person on earth" just "i am ashamed to be part of the world that enables this horror and ashamed to be from the only country in the world frothing at the mouth to support it." despairing at how many people have been killed and at how slow anyone is to stop it. i am sad about all that a lot and sorrow doesn't make anyone fast or mega productive, but this major historical event touches me a lot less directly than covid? so maybe it's not actually a good comparison point. i would certainly be happier if Israel (and the US) stopped attacking hospitals and destroying critical infrastructure and trying to erase Palestine and Palestinians from existence)

i remember we tried lowering my dose of antidepressants earlier in the summer because i'd been Feeling Peppy the week i was forced to go off of them, but that did not help. when was that? did that start me getting crazier?? i have no clue

1 day in 8 is a lot more days lost than 1 day in 20. i should probably switch my dose back and suffer through it.

in conclusion: gratgkrhejrisjdkskskekzARGH

i'm gonna go cook

[scuttle-buttle]

Chapter 11

WC: 2077

Rated: E

Chapter Tags: full on angst, discussions of emotional trauma, mild depictions of blood/gore, mentions of self h*rm & su*cide, mentions of child abuse, discussions of physical disabilities, institutionalization, some dialogue & plot canon to TV show, hurt/comfort

🧠

The rest of the conference went by much like the first day did. Both you and Laszlo bought a few books for your collections. An ease had settled over your conversations with the help of Sara and John's presence; you spoke more freely with each other. You tell yourself it is not because he's going soft on you or vice versa, but rather that you have found yourself in this imaginary bubble where you happen to get on well. It's inevitable that it will pop once you’re back at school and Laszlo will revert back to his usual callous state.

Laszlo. It still felt odd to think of him like that, rather than by his title. You couldn't lie, it gave you a sort of thrill. Even in your dreams you had only called him by his honorific. Thankfully you didn't have another dream after Friday. You couldn't escape the feeling that you'd said something incriminating in front of the man in question. So you chose to pretend it didn't happen.

Monday morning came and you headed to the train station. Once again he had secured a private cabin for the journey. This time you came prepared with a book since you had yet to replace your broken phone.

"Thank you again for inviting me to this, I really enjoyed myself. It was really nice of the department to foot my travel expenses, the hotel was really fancy. I may have helped myself to a mini-bottle or two," you joked.

"There is no need to worry about the department's finances; they were not involved."

You pause. He paid for you? Laszlo did say he would take care of the arrangements; but the four-star hotel, the private compartment train tickets, the admission to the conference, and every meal? Shit, that must have been a fortune, hundreds of dollars at least.

You don't know what to say, so you settle for an awkward "oh." A moment passes before you add "I appreciate that, um, I can pay you back. Might take some time but I can."

The professor is flippant in his reply. "There is no need, it was well spent for the research and knowledge acquired." He opens his book signaling the conversation is over.

You lick your lips. Fine then, I'll just consider it payment for emotional suffering and damages of the last eight weeks.

The first few hours of the journey were spent reading one of the new books you picked up at the convention. Occasionally you would peek over the pages at the professor. He was engrossed in his own selection; sometimes he would pause to write down a thought.

Around the seventh hour of your journey you had given up on reading anymore in favor of looking at the fields outside. The silence was comforting.

Laszlo had trouble concentrating on the book in his hand. He saw you as a conundrum. One minute you could be sociable and teasing with your comments, then next you were biting at his throat with your quick wit and fierce ideals. He decides that he wants to know what made you into who you are today. Now is as good a time as any.

His eyes on you cause a tingle up your spine but you ignore it. Laszlo breaks the silence; "may I ask a personal question?"

"You just did," you answer, still peering out of the large window. He huffed once, amused. At his following silence you face him. You raise your eyebrows to signal him to go on with his question. Curiosity grows at the thought of what he intends to ask.

"Twice now you have made implications of a traumatic past," he begins.

Bubble popped.

Interrupting, you snark "is this the part where you psychoanalyze me, doc? Because trust me, I've been through enough of that." You pick at the lint on your jeans.

Laszlo tries to choose his words more carefully the next time he speaks. "What I mean to say is, the first afternoon in the classroom where you defended that student you implied you had been witness to a trauma. You then displayed signs of anger and embarrassment before leaving prematurely. Yesterday you mentioned having entered a psychiatric facility. As an alienist I can't help but find myself curious about your experiences."

You slide your eyes to meet his from across the cabin. Your face is devoid of any emotion. "We all have our demons. Even you can't argue with that."

Your jaw clenches. Everyone had warned you. They all said he would try to worm his way into your head to figure you out. All the reviews, the gossip, everything. It was a big fat 'I told you so'. You give a pitiful laugh at the situation. "You know, everyone told me that you would pull this stunt."

He seems confused by your statement. "And what is that?"

"That you'd get inside my head and try to figure me all out or whatever. You already know I googled you beforehand, what everyone says about your methods. By now I assume you've done a little research yourself. I promise you there is nothing exciting here," you scoff and point to yourself.

"You would be correct in your assumption." You chew at your cheek as he starts. "I do know some of what happened in your past. Yet I also know that society likes to dilute the truth into something either more palatable, more entertaining, for people to consume greedily. What I want to know is what you have faced. How you have not allowed the experience to overcome you so much so that your humanity is erased like the characters I lecture on."

Eyes closing of their own volition you are thrown back in time to that night so many years ago. You didn't talk about it anymore. Bitsy knew of course, but that was the extent.

Laszlo waits. He knows this is likely to push you over the edge if your history with him means anything. Quite frankly, anyone would be tossed to their limit at his interrogation had they gone through what you had. John always told him that he needed to work on his bedside manner; that he had a habit of coming on too strong in his pursuit of learning the intricacies of the human mind. But your earlier comment about being sent to a so-called 'nuthouse' rubbed him the wrong way. It left a bad taste in his mouth. He needed to know. He needed to understand.

Laszlo can imagine the reprimand that he would receive from John and Sara for this. Just as he considers apologizing for his intrusion you open your eyes.

"She was fine. None of us suspected anything was wrong. I came home from having dinner with some… boy, and she had locked herself in the bathroom. She- she must have started over the sink and moved to sit on the side of the tub. She was hunched inside it when I got the door open. I pulled her out. Blood was… everywhere." Your voice is clinical as you explain.

"After, I shut down. So I checked myself into a psych ward a few days later when I couldn't get the feel of her blood off my hands. It's slippery, you know. And it smells. You wouldn't think so but it does." You clear your throat. "I did the therapy, took the meds they prescribed, all the standard treatments. Later I started watching true crime documentaries. I'd heard about exposure therapy so I figured the more I saw the gore, the less the image of my dead roommate would bother me. And it did help. The nightmares stopped after a while, I came back to school. I was better, just not the same.” You had watched the passing landscape as you explained. Turning to face him you speak again. “That's why those pictures didn't bother me. They weren't anything I hadn't seen before."

He contemplates you. The discovery and subsequent loss of your friend in this manner would no doubt cause lingering effects to your psyche. A stain that would forever remind you. "I offer my sincerest condolences. I do not presume to know what that would be like to experience, but I am glad you sought help afterwards. To make the choice to alleviate yourself of your own suffering where possible.”

As he says this he realizes that your anger towards the idea of being enslaved to unconscious impulse makes perfect sense. It explains why you focused so much energy on defending your belief in free will. That you have the power to choose how you carry your joy, your anger, your healing. It reminds him of how he held onto his own guilt and hurt, ignoring how it festered within him for so long. He feels as though he needs to share a piece of himself with you.

“I played piano as a child, quite well too. My mother hoped I would someday make a career of it. I vividly remember playing Mozart’s Concerto for Piano No. 20 in D Minor at a holiday party when I was seven years old. It was my favorite to play.... It requires two hands." You finally look at him. "My father...” He pauses to gather himself.

Now it is the doctor that cannot meet your eyes. As you listen you feel your confusion grow. How could he have been a talented pianist if he only had full use of his left hand? Unless..., the realization dawns on you just as he continues, his words slow.

“My father had two sides. One loving and the other brutal, the two often coexisting. It was something as trivial as putting me to bed, I recall... A game of tug of war. We were laughing…” He inhales a sharp breath. Already you can feel the tears begin to blur your vision. “I don't remember if he was drunk or if I said something that offended him. He must have pulled my arm behind my back.” Laszlo exhales shakily. “In small children, fractures can often affect…” he trails off, unable to finish. You can hear how he barely holds himself together.

Your heart aches for the broken man that sits in front of you. He never let on how much his arm bothered him, at least not within your presence. Suddenly you don’t see him as this rude, insufferable, obsessive man, but instead as someone that spends his life trying to protect himself. He projects his own anger and hurt so that he may, just for a minute, forget about his own demons. He wants to help others even when he feels he cannot bear to help himself.

But unlike you, he has to live with the physical reminder of his past every day of his life.

You stand and move to sit on his right side. Before allowing yourself to think too much of your actions, you place your hand atop his own, curling your fingers around his palm and squeezing delicately. You don’t bother wiping away the tears on your cheeks. “I’m so sorry, Laszlo;” the whisper is barely heard above the sound of the train. A second passes where you fear you have overstepped and offended him by touching the affected limb. When his thumb tightens against the backs of your fingers you know he is not. He holds you in place.

“You asked me how I kept my humanity. How does anyone really? We learn to take what we get and we carry it in a bag. Sometimes you have to drag the damn thing behind you. But eventually the weight gets less and less if you allow yourself to move forward, even if it’s still there with you all the time. I dealt with what happened years ago and it does still haunt me. It’s easier now than it was, but… I- I suppose I’ve learned from you too. Sitting in those lectures and hearing you talk. We can either let it haunt us for the rest of our lives… or we can accept it… and use the memory of our pain to help ourselves and others.”

“I’m not sure the choice is entirely in our hands.” His tone is mournful.

You turn to smile at him through your tears. His own eyes are bloodshot. “I disagree. If it weren’t, if we didn’t have the freedom to choose that, we’d all be murderers.”

Tag list

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[misskittysmagicportal]

I’m A Creep

Fandom: The Messenger Jack x Rin Davies

Word Count: 5k

Warnings: suicide discussion, oral sex, penetration, mention of masturbation, angsty whomp because OOOOF is Jack a Whomp!character

Note: The events of this fic contain spoilers for those of you who havent seen The Messenger.  It takes place after the end of the movie.  Read at your own risk if you haven’t seen it!  If you want it’s free on Tubi :)

Present Day:

Jack stood beside Rin in the dead of night watching her sleep for just a moment. Only a moment because she roused the instant she sensed him breathe. Sitting up, she quickly reached inside the nightstand. He knew her routine, Rin was impulsive about making sure her leather motorcycle gloves were on before she let him in.

Jack wordlessly pulled his shirt over his head and stepped out of his sweatpants and boxers. 

Rin lifted her covers and opened her legs to him. Obliging, Jack lowered himself onto her showering her neck with kisses. His tongue and lips trailing down along her collarbone, erection hard against her thigh. A hand found its way under Rin’s t-shirt and over a naked breast where he pinched at a nipple. 

“Jack,” she was breathless. “Stop. Don't touch my skin, please.”

Jack pushed himself up by the arms, “How is this enjoyable to you, duck?” A northern term of endearment. “My thighs ah touchin’ you aren't they?” The moonlight caught his eyes as he teased her with the head of his cock. “What about this, inside you?” Suggestively whispered. 

Rin moaned but held her cool. “It’s not the same. Like you said, that's inside. It's just my.. skin. From my..” her voice trailed off. 

“Would it be so bad? I just want to feel you under me without fuckkin clothes.” Jack took a chance and kissed her. Tongue pushing inside of Rin, but she stiffened. “Sweetheart,” now he whispered, just his fingertips brushed her cheek. “Please, love, just touch me”

--------

Several Weeks Before:

Rin sat alone at a center table in the middle of the visitation room.  This wasn’t her first rodeo, probably won’t be her last.  She flexed her hands outwards the leather of her gloves cracking and flexing in a satisfying manner.  No one was going to come and see her. Besides, the solitude allowed her to quietly spy on all the other nutters around the room.

Just to her left Rin noticed a pretty redheaded woman and her son as they sat across from probably the most attractive guy ever in an institution.  There was a tenseness to the way he sat, shoulders hunched and hands between his legs.  His hair unruly and a blank stare that wasn’t really focusing on- she came to realize-  his sister and nephew.  Rin knew him from group therapy where he was equally quiet, eyes glassy from a psych med cocktail.  The majority of his speaking hours tucked away in that overbearing therapist’s office.  

“Jack, will you please just look at me?” his sister, Emma tried her best to reach out to her brother. “I.. I think Martin and I made a mistake.” 

Jack only stared straight ahead between Emma and his nephew, Billy. The preteen looked uncomfortable and scared as his mother nudged him softly. “It's ok. Billy tell Uncle Jack.” 

“I did, Mom” , his voice quiet. “I'm supposed to say no. That you should get me help before it's too late.”  Rin watched as Billy folded his arms and laid his head down. “Only I can't. It's all night and day, Jack. I can't sleep because they don't have you.” 

“Best leave him here with me then, Emma.” It was the first time anyone heard Jack speak in weeks. His sister had a posh accent, so Rin was surprised when Yorkshire dripped from his lips. “For good, right?” 

“That's not fair. You are sick, Jack.  You weren't caring for yourself. You.. you got too involved with that murder. You were hurting yourself,” Emma struggled with tears. “I want to take you home.”

“Oh like I'm some kind of fookin dog? Emma you and Martin made it clear I belong here. She's right, maybe it was all dad. That's traumatic you know.” 

“You deserve someplace warm! A home. Please, Jack. I found this in your things.” She slid a newspaper clipping towards her brother. “That's the boy who drowned. Why.. why didn't you tell me?” 

“Loads of kids drown in pools,” Jack stated bluntly with a shrug. “Why should your pool be any different?” 

“I never said it was our pool.” 

“I recognized the address in the article”

“Jack, it's from two years ago.” 

“I got lucky. Ah we doon here? I have walls to stare at. Here Billy you can have this back,” from between his knees he produced a glass paperweight with a scorpion inside. “Tell all ya mates Crazy Uncle Jack sends his loov” 

Jack tried to stand but Emma grabbed his arm. This was Rin’s cue to swoop in. She swiftly moved from her table to theirs. 

“JACKIE!’ I've been looking for you everywhere!” His eyes panicking in her direction. “I'm Wren,” she took her glove off and reached a scarred hand in Emma's direction. “But my brother couldn't say it so you can call me Rin” She smiled brightly. 

Emma tentatively shook Rin’s hand, smiling in turn.  Rin took a moment as her mind’s eye zoned in on what was inside of Jack’s sister.  It was a loneliness, a desperation to take care of her little brother but protect her son from the same fate.  But most importantly Rin felt a small tingling of warmth from somewhere deep inside of Emma’s heart.  It was white and pure and instantly recognizable as hope.  Even though it was tiny it was growing and starting to spread, and Rin knew Emma was eager to share that with her brother.

“Wow,” Rin blurted, “I wish my brother was as invested in me as you are.  You’re a good person, Emma.  Trust me,” she winked.  “Woman’s intuition.”

Emma narrowed her eyes and studied the crazed looking woman standing between her and Jack.  The scars on Rin’s hand raised some alarms, but Emma ignored them.  She omitted a relief and let go, “Well thank you.  Can you talk some sense into my brother?”

Moments later, with the visitors gone, Rin sat down in Emma’s place.  “Thank you is a start,” she teased Jack. 

He rolled his eyes and slowly turned in her direction to face her dead on.  The intensity of his eyes took Rin by surprise.  “Thank you,” the sarcasm poured like a waterfall.

Rin took off her other glove.  “Now, Mr-”

“Jack is fine.”

“Jack.  Tell me,” Rin feigned a German accent, “Und why do zey sink you are crazy.”   

He blinked slowly.

“You got sectioned.  What bullshit excuse did they force you to believe?  Because it seems like Lovely Emma is desperate to get you out, and we know how hard that is.”

Jack took an impossibly deep breath, “Schizo-effective disorder with some dissociation, post traumatic stress disorder, non-suicidal self injury disorder and depression.”

“Fuck me, that's a trail mix of bonkers. Now ask me” 

Jack closed his eyes. They were shut for so long that Rin was certain he had fallen asleep having given in to his meds. His hunched, thin body sort of folded a bit in on itself. A moment of possible self-soothing when he started to sway. 

“Jack?” Rin's tone fell quietly with concern. She poke his arm carefully avoiding touching the skin. “Darling what cocktail did these quacks put you on.” She was an expert after all these years; if the drugs were working, no way would he be this much of a zombie.

Green blank eyes hidden behind enviable eyelashes attempted to focus “Seroquel. Clozapine?” His words start to slur a bit. “Fine. How fucking barmy are you?”

“Well,”  the young woman softened, “I have suicidal ideations with self-injury tendencies myself, severe clinical depression, a bit of the old borderline personality disorder and wait for it..”  she practically whispered a few inches from Jack’s face, “total emotional attachment to partners.”  

The skin around Jack’s eyes crinkled as he squinted just enough to indicate his hazed brain was trying to process everything Rin just unloaded. His lips parted to speak but he paused resulting in a gobsmacked expression.  “You’re barking.”

“Says the sexy scarecrow with journo clippings of dead boys.”  Rin pursed her lips and crossed her arms, “Why are you really in here Jack.”

“I’m fucking mad.” It was matter of fact.

“To quote the Cheshire Cat, we’re all mad here, love.  Look at me,” she held her hands aloft to display gnarled and prominent scars covering both hands in their entirety.  “I developed a gift or two by primary school.  See I can touch a person, and I know what they are feeling.  Except it.. It goes deeper than that.  I can PICTURE their true selves.  It’s a bit overstimulating, but no one can lie to me.  Not really.  Doesn’t do much for my sex life.  Or lack of one really.  Honestly, you put a cock in your mouth only to find out the guy you’re with is fantasizing about slitting your throat and wanking in your blood.”

Jack shook his head, “Jesus christ.”

“Well yes! My parents were religious zealots, right?  They got wind of my gifts.  Tried to use me in the church, but I rebelled.  Long story short, darling Mumsy and Papa decided if they may be stuck my hands in boiling grease I wouldn’t be able to use it anymore.  It’s not in my hands though.  It’s in my skin,” Rin smiled almost pleasantly. “Sometimes I get a bit over the edge.  I stop shielding myself from the pure air around folks, I suffocate in it.  Then,” now she held out her wrists, “I have my little accidents.”

Jack’s mouth hung agape.  His brows furrowed in confusion, “You are off you’re fucking nut.”

“That’s all relative.  Now, you can tell me why they REALLY sectioned you.  What power or ability are they masquerading as mental illness, or I can find out my way.”  Rin shrugged. 

“Why the fuck do you care?  I’m sleeping at night.  I have food and a bed and a shower.”

“Und electro-shock zerapy, und coma inducing psychopharmaceuticals, und most importantly you has lost your voice und a chance to harness your ability correctly.”  that mock German accent again.  “You shouldn’t be here, Jack.  Emma certainly doesn’t think so, and neither do I.  You’re special.  Or that bitch shrink wouldn’t have made you the living dead.”

Jack snorted followed by a rather loud.  “Just fuck off. Fuck off.  Fuck off.  FUCK OFF!” he screamed in Rin’s face.  Not once did she flinch, arms crossed again in a challenge. Disgusted by her, Jack kept bellowing his words thick with anger and cotton from the meds, “I DON'T BELONG OUT THERE EITHER!  I DON'T BELONG IN HERE!  I DON’T FUCKING BELONG ANYWHERE. HE’S DEAD.  SHE’S DEAD.  EVERY SINGLE FUCKING ONE OF THE CUNTS IS DEAD!  DEAD DEAD DYING!  JUST LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE!” 

He shot up out of the chair to leave, but Rin caught his large hand.  Skin to skin, hands so small together they barely covered just his one.  Instantly her body stiffened as she gasped for air.  Tears immediately stung her eyes as she crammed them shut.  There in her mind was just a large body of water.  Ocean waves crashed overhead as she sank far below the surface.  Dark, cold, horrifying that sensation of being drowned.  Rin choked on the last bit of oxygen in her lungs and started to suffocate.  The hand she held brought her mind’s eye around to opening under the water to see Jack floating near-motionless in front of her.  It took all of her strength to push against the tide towards him where she held his face in her hands.  Death and decay flashed above them, the dead peering down from boats just waiting for Jack to return to the surface.

Rin strained to convey that tiny bit of hope Emma had passed along to her earlier as she pressed her forehead into Jack’s in the icy deep.  There was no reason in particular that she was drawn to him.  Not in the hospital or here trying to save him from drowning slowly. Was he attractive, undoubtedly, but that wasn’t all or it. Maybe it was now that she knew he was a messenger, a harbinger of death.  That was itself a form of an empathic gift.  Or it was just compassion. 

Suddenly Jack’s eyes burst open.  In that languid way your body moves underwater, he pushed her away.  His arms and legs thrashed around in a panic as if he only just realized he was allowing this place to kill him.  There was an instant loss, and Rin’s inner self slammed into a brick wall.  The physical Jack had severed the connection between her body and his.  To resurface that suddenly forced Rin gulping in blessed oxygen that she never really lost.  It was an illusion, where the two of them had been.  He really had shoved her back though, she realized that now.  Storming out of the visitation center, Jack left Rin alone to cry.

--------

Several days later

Rin lounged against the wall outside of Jack’s room with her gloves firmly in place.  Patients weren’t SUPPOSED to fraternize outside of the common rooms, but Rin had been here a few times before.  She knew which orderlies and nurses to finess, and which to avoid.  In this case Jerry was the giant, affable St Bernard of a man that kept watch in this particular hallway.

“Wren back so soon?” he teased. “What are you doing hanging around the human handbook for the recently deceased?” 

“Delightful, Jer.  How is he?  I mean really.” Rin hooked her thumb in the direction of the room.

“Easiest patient I’ve dealt with on account of he rarely speaks, pops his meds and keeps to himself.  Gave us a bit of a row when he first got here, but I like the guy.  I don’t know what to believe though.  His sister’s been sniffing around administratives.”  The orderly shrugged his massive shoulders.  “Heard you took quite the piss on visitation day.”

“I didn’t take the piss!” 

“Did ya do your handsy thing,” Jerry made jazz hands.

Rin’s eyes almost rolled back in her head, but suddenly there was a figure in the doorway which caused her to jump.  “How about we don’t talk about the nutter like he isn’t 10 feet away and only 27 years old?” Jack insisted.  His arms crossed and shoulders sagged in their usual way.  

“Can we talk?”  

Before Jack could truly answer, Rin had already pushed past him and sat down on his bed.  His mouth hung somewhat agape before he eventually joined her.  Jack attempted to sit close, just for some human contact, but the young woman beside him shied away.

“Right,” a retort.  “You’ve started being just as bloody fucking annoying as they were.”

Startled, “Who?”

“You know those.. Schizo delusions I’m here for.”

“The dead?”

Jack’s green eyes narrowed and Rin knew there was a sarcastic remark just sitting there waiting to be released.  Instead he curled his posture as if he was trying to fold in on himself.  Make himself smaller, less noticeable.  “Dissociations sparked by my father’s suicide.”

“Psycho babble bullshit jargon.  Congratulations, you’ve become a parrot.”  Rin waved her hand, “Jack has anyone ever-.”  There was a hesitation.  

“Has anyone ever what? Go on, enlighten me then”

Rin started stripping her gloves off but thought better of it.  A sense of foreboding, of drowning and clutching her chest for hair flashed across her mind.  The loneliness emanated from Jack without her touch. That empathic conduction of her skin.  Reaching instead to place the soft leather against his cheek, her thumb brushed his bottom lip.  Her eyes searched for him in that moment where time stood still before a mouth replaced a thumb.  

To not only Rin’s surprise but his own, Jack didn’t recoil.  His body relaxed as instinct took hold. There was a fervor in hands that got tangled up in hair.  Tongues fought each other as arms made their way around bodies in an embrace.  They held one another tight, the desperation apparent.  

The spell broke when Jack laid Rin down on the bed and let his warm mouth trail down her neck. He was awkward and hungry like a teenager.  He fumbled around her chest to attempt massaging her breast. 

A snort came from Rin simply to hide the panic of rushing water when Jack’s lips came into contact with her skin.  Maybe hers found it easier to beg off that inner eye from opening, but now she didn’t have a choice.  They weren’t as deep with the surface just rippling only a few inches away.  

Before she started to lose oxygen again, Rin began to squirm.  “ Stop.  Please?”

Jack sat up and faced forward as if nothing had transpired.  His cheeks flushed and a hand tugged at his tee-shirt embarrassingly then stuffed between his legs. He blinked a few times as he breathing calmed. 

“I only came to ask you if anyone had ever shown you affection.  Held you.  Emma.. Emma”  Rin inhaled deeply as she forced Jack to hold her glove hand.  “I know she sort of longs to hug you.”  Back on his cheek to make him look at her. “Obviously I got my answer,” she laughed. 

Jack silently replied by pushing his forehead into Rin's.  They laid down again this time with their heads on his pillow legs and arms tangled up in each other. Jack nuzzled the edge of his nose into the skin behind her ear; her breath caught. Then the couple seemingly melted together.

“Jack you seem less-” fingers twisted up in his curls.

“Like a walking coma patient?” hand gripped the thick of her thigh.  Then reaching a shelf above Rin Jack seized one of those creepy glass paperweights housing a floating tarantula. Turning it over underneath to show a tiny white envelope. “I started hiding my meds. Pass them along to my sister when she visits.”

Just under the surface of the water, still struggling for air exploded before Rin's eyes. Perhaps she had passed something between Emma and Jack. Was it her own faith that was transmitted to him? That first touch that woke him up after all this time. 

The next few weeks became a game of trial and error. Of how little or much Rin and Jack could consume of each other.  Kissing was no longer an issue once the meds began to wear off, lips and tongues and mouths. It felt more like standing ankle deep in a bathtub. Warm and comforting; it was Jack that was overpowering.  

Eager to make up for a very long very lost amount of time. He stumbled along Rin's body uneasily because of how little clothing she removed at first. Not that he was in a rush to reveal what was underneath his oversized shirt and sweatpants. He wasn’t the one recoiling when the stimulation overwhelmed.  

“I'll take off my shirt. Touch me here, but where the fabric of my bra is. Tease the nipple with just your fingertips. No that's.. maybe under? Touch them. Oh God. Now your mouth. Right there.  Are you.. you took your shirt off too?” (She marveled at how defined, muscular Jack's body seemed despite his slight stature)   

Jack took initiative now and slid his fingers inside of Rin. He pumped them a few times guided by her ``Oh.. maybe you can touch me.. Do you feel.. It’s like a bud or a kernel.. Here let me.. It’s just right.. OH GOD.  Right like.. ”   And she would ride his hand and fingers that circled that bud.  

Rin would cry out in surprise.  Her body exploded in ecstasy. They weren't drowning anymore. Just swimming, bobbed under the water and surface. It was the sense-memory of suffocating, coupled with the dazzling pleasure of Jack's warm tongue as it teased her nipples, his strong fingers teasing her clit at the same time. His hot skin meshed with hers washed out by fear.  She apologized as they scrambled to arrange themselves. 

“Don't think I'm going anywhere for quite some time, my love.”  His words changed with the possessive my in lieu of the once meaningless sentiment. He would steal a chaste kiss from Rin whose cheeks flushed to match his own as he made that familiar adjustment between his legs.  In the future, Rin would come to him without a bra but reluctant to take her shirt off when Jack kept on never minding.

Jerry became an ally of sorts. He always had been on Rin's side after she read him her second section. It wasn't difficult to get him to believe in Jack's abilities. Staff has whispered down the corridors that Jack had suddenly found himself aware of a suicide attempt.  That dead reporter Emma mentioned, his fiancé had taken more pills than Rin ever fathomed any number of her attempts. (She had a flare for dramatics: slit wrists) Jerry mentioned Jack had a tantrum the likes of a toddler screaming the name Sarah whatever over and over, pounding his fists into his head to make whatever haunted him. Sure enough, this Sarah was found nearly having bled out and foaming at the mouth. 

“How would he even fucking know, poppet? Not unless Jack really was chatting up her dead fiancé “ As if that was all he needed, Jerry turned his back and caused distractions all the nights the Empath and her Beautiful Broken Man longed to be together.

It was stunning the way Jack learned to manipulate the system.  Only Rin, and reluctantly Jerry, knew he pocketed his meds.  Safely tucked away in those ugly arachnid globes in the pockets or purse of Billy and Emma.  He started talking more in group therapy and far less in private sessions.  Engaged in conversations with his sister and nephew, true ones that resulted in a simple smile or a laugh free from a facetious tone.  To the staff and doctors those fucking psychopharmeceuticals worked.  To Jack’s sister and nephew and whatever Rin was to him, there was a slowly lifting weight making the air around him lighter. Yet Rin kept her hands to herself.

More trial and error.  In the midst of fervent kisses, Rin took Jack in her hand.  A stroke or two was all she got in before he spasmed and came.  The mortification that flashed in his eyes as he curled in a fetal position between her and the wall while she whispered reassurances in his ear.  Touching him, caressing him and eventually taking him into her mouth became easier and longer with practice and patience.  

They laughed into each other’s mouths before Rin let her tongue trail down over his stomach. Anxiously Jack took off his pants and boxers, lying backwards.  He held the back of her head, moaned and twisted as she licked and sucked on him. His hips bucked and thrust upwards.  

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

Present Day, Again

“Would it be so bad? I just want to feel you under me without fuckin clothes.” Jack took a chance and kissed Rin. Tongue pushed inside of her, but she stiffened. “Sweetheart,” now he whispered,  just his fingertips brushed her cheek. “Please, love, just touch me?”

Rin took a moment to think.  He wasn’t drowning anymore.  She could push that old feeling out of her third eye and bury herself in new ones.  She took a hold of her shirt and tossed it on the floor.  She took the erection that twiced against her thigh and held it just outside of her pulsating and ready sex.  With hands that sunk into her vunerable skin, Jack buried himself inside of her. 

That fire from Emma all that time ago poured from Jack’s body into hers.  It pushed back the water as he pumped rhythmically into Rin.  Building into a frenzy quickly, his pelvis crashed into hers before she could really come around to what was happening.  It briefly conquered the fears from before; caused hot tears to spring to her eyes that flowed uncontrolled down her cheeks.

In his fervor, Jack noticed and bent to kiss them away.  The gesture she had made that first time, a thumb brushed across her cheek and lower lip as he slowed his pace. Wren,” he took to calling her that tentatively.  “What is it?”

Before she could answer, Jack became distracted by something in the corner of the room.  Eyes passed between Rin and whatever it was that she couldn’t fathom or see.  She took his chin and focused it on her as they crashed together and apart again in another wave of building friction. It was too late though, he had abruptly pulled out and away from her. 

“NO!  STOP!  LEAVE ME ALONE!  CAN’T I HAVE ONE MOMENT OF FUCKING HAPPINESS WITHOUT ONE OF YOU LOOMING OVER ME LIKE A FUCKING PERV.”  He used fists to beat out a rhythm on his temples as he scurried to the corner of his bed with knees up to his chest.  

In the frenzy, Rin had been knocked to the floor.  Jerry had rushed in, he was never too far away just in case.  In a whirlwind, he picked Rin up with one hand and with the other attempted to intervene between Jack's fists and his head.  What could either of them do?  If attention was drawn to the room, surely the doctors would realize Jack had gone unmedicated for weeks.  Jerry’s eyes wide gestured towards Rin’s hands.  She shook her head, but Jack carried on.  

“Go on Jenny Wren, there has to be something your hands can do.  I’ll lose my job and you’ll be separated.  They’ll put him back in the Zoo.”  He was already yanking her arms forward and trying to remove her gloves before she could consent.

Rin knew The Zoo. It being rooms that could be monitored with two way mirrors.  You got a bed and a blanket.  They controlled when the lights came on and when they turned them off.  No privilege, no real structure.  They fed you, bathed you, and gave you “playtime” when they said.  No matter how you suffered from mental illness no one deserved that. She would never forgive herself.

“JERRY LET ME DO IT MYSELF!”  Rin bellowed if only to out yell Jack and his fit.  “Make her go away!  LEAVE ME ALONE” he cried underneath her.  Her hands free, she flexed them a few times before joining Jack on the bed.  She clutched his forearms and struggled to get a grip enough to pull them away from self-harm.  “JACK!  YOU HAVE GOT TO FUCKING STOP, MY DARLING.”  She slid her hands over his temples before he could punch them anymore.  She used the heels of her palms and pressed.  

It was immediate, the way her mind opened to him.  This time he was floating along the tide in a boat surrounded by what Rin could only guess were dead people.  They grabbed and tugged on Jack’s clothes.   Rin sat on the other side from him between two oars; she used one to swat at the ghosts who tried to pull them back in.  But there, walking along the surface, was a beautiful young woman.  Blonde hair flowed in waves down her back.  Sarah.

“You said we would be together, Jack.”  She was angry.  “That’s what you told him when he warned you I overdosed.  I survived that attempt, but not the second one.  Where is he Jack?  Why isn’t he here waiting for me?”

Jack stood up and the boat began to dangerously rock. Rin took his hand and he squeezed it in return.  He bellowed at the dead woman, “YOU SURVIVED AND HE MOVED ON.  I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR YOU BEING FUCKING STUPID, SARAH.  WHAT I TOLD YOU WAS MEANT TO EASE YOUR GUILT.  HE LOVED YOU.  YOU WERE SO LOVED.  HE DIDN’T CARE ABOUT YOUR MISTAKES.  YOU HAVE TO LEAVE ME ALONE.  ALL OF YOU.  I’M FUCKING DONE.  MOVE ON.  GO SOMEWHERE ELSE.  I CAN’T BE THE ONLY ONE OF MY KIND.  AND FUCK OFF BILLY TOO, MATE.”

“Jack?”  Rin spoke softly.  The hands gripped her tight in place of him.  They started to pull her in with him because he was useless now.  He stood up to them for possibly the first time in twenty years.  They would take her instead then.  

Jack seized Rin’s body before she could go over in his place.  He held her fast and tight and shielded her from them.  “NO.  You don’t fucking get ANYONE I love.  Not Billy.  Not Emma.�� Not Martin.  No Wren or Rin.  AND YOU DON’T FUCKING GET ME ANYMORE.”  He took the oar up in his free hand and swung it around the bodies in the water.  He jabbed it forward like a sword at Sarah still pacing the side of the boat.  “GO, SARAH.  HE’S WAITING FOR YOU.  I PROMISE THIS TIME”  Jack insisted and pleaded.

Then it was so silent it deafened both Jack and Rin as they clung to one another in the boat.  In a flash and explosion, they separated and landed back on the bed in the room in an institution.  Jerry panted and pawed at the two of them dazed and uncertain.  Jack blinked a handful of times with no recollection of what just took place in his head and Rin’s.  They never knew or remembered Rin had learned.

Jack scoured the room for any sign of Sarah or anyone else.  He rubbed his eyes a few times then sighed heavily.  “I.. I want to go back to my room now.”  It was matter of fact.  

Jerry nodded and helped him back into his clothes.  Jack stumbled a bit but managed to kiss Rin sweetly before being led away and down the hall.  Rin knew Jerry would probably give him something to help him sleep at least for the night and probably into tomorrow.  She was afraid Jack had woken up a second time.  Not just from his nightmare of the last twenty years, but whatever happened between them.  It was a price she had to pay sometimes when she helped.  There was something Rin longed to say earlier.  What made her cry was an ember somewhere deep inside of Jack that he had never experienced before.  For the first time in his life, he had hope.

[soniabigcheese]

Not a happy bunny atm.

I know I should post this on my diabetic journey side blog but I wanted to share here.

Yes, I've been diagnosed diabetic. But ... I feel that none of the other options have been exhausted before slapping pills in my direction.

Whatever happened to a healthy eating plan and exercise? Since when did that stop being an option?

Nowadays, they see an obese person, immediately assume that they're done for and the only thing left is to shove pills down their throat.

And I'll bet that their excuse is that they 'did try'

Okay ... this is what happened. Two years ago ... maybe 3 now, I was put on a program that was a 3 day induction. The man doing it was patronising and did a whole ... 'you'll just have to wait until later and I'll explain' attitude. Especially when we started asking questions.

We were supposed to attend at least 2 of the 3 days or risk starting all over again.

It was hosted right across town, taking me well out of my way. I had stopped driving so it was either hubby, buses or taxis.

I missed one day because I had an appointment I couldn't cancel. Missed the next day because I felt really bad with the flu and didn't want to spread it around everyone.

I had the opportunity to go back but I didn't.

I had no feedback at all. No follow up phone calls or letters. I was left high and dry.

A couple of months ago ... out of the blue, I'm called in for a blood test. Just before Christmas when all the rich foods are around.

My blood test came back high.

Well duh, obviously. I'd just eaten a lot of sweet sugary foods so its obvious that it would be high.

And now, I'm being prescribed meds to lower my bloods. They take almost 2 weeks to arrive, so in the meantime, I set about eating healthy foods and thus managed to naturally lower my blood sugar levels.

I'd barely started those when I was prescribed ... without warning and all too eagerly imho ... more pills.

I was ILL... really really ill from them. Nausea, I vomited through the night, couldn't face food in case I threw it all up again. And really really sleepy.

Told them I wasn't happy with them and instead of suggesting the diet plan ... the meds were replaced by even MORE meds.

WTH??

[hazel-writes]

Summary:

will-o’-the-wisp (noun):

1. a phosphorescent light seen hovering or floating at night on marshy ground.

2. a person or thing that is difficult or impossible to reach or catch.

Word Count: 6,600

Warnings: mild violence, (lots of) emotional distress

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

I've got a ticket to the moon

I'll be leaving here any day soon

Yeah, I've got a ticket to the moon

But I'd rather see the sunrise, in your eyes

• Ticket to the Moon - Electric Light Orchestra •

Being back on the Finalizer was strange. You were put on the ship for a single purpose: to gather intel, hide information in posters, and distribute them on various planets for the Resistance to find. But now, after everything that you learned about your brother, and especially after what happened on Lothal, you decided you were done working for the Resistance.

You recognized that the Order had done terrible things — was doing terrible things. But you would find another way to help, one that didn’t involve the Resistance, the same organization that murdered Benji. There were good people on the Finalizer. People who had been there for you more than your own parents had. Ones who would even take a blaster bolt for you… and who you would take a blaster bolt for.

As you walked the halls of the Finalizer, one week since the mission to Lothal, you found yourself more on edge than you ever had been. The Commander was off-ship and you hadn’t seen him since he healed your arm, an act that you still hadn’t fully processed. Finn was doing better — the doctors and med-droids managed to get him stabilized. He was still in the medbay, but mainly out of precaution. He was no longer hooked up to machines and everyone was impressed by how fast he had managed to heal.

Regardless of his resilience, you felt horribly guilty for putting him in such a dangerous situation to begin with, something you had attempted to tell him many times. All you wanted was for him to yell at you, lash out, cry, something. But he brushed off every single one of your apologies as if you had merely stepped on his toe.

Every morning you had been checking up on him before heading to the artist workspace. However, today when you entered his room, you found the bed empty. A wave of confusion, followed by worry, coursed through you. No, no, no. The doctors said he could still take a turn for the worse, but you thought he was doing better. He can’t be… you thought. No way, he’s too stubborn to die. Right? Panicking, you crossed the room, finding the button on the wall that would call the medical attendants.

Right as you neared the button, a startled cry came from behind you: “Wait! Don’t-”

You spun on your heel and was shocked to see none other than Finn hopping over to you on one leg. He was struggling to get a piece of armor around his foot and as he hobbled in your direction, tangled pieces of his arm and leg plates dragged behind him.

“What do you think you’re do-” you started before Finn cut you off with a single finger to your lips. He gave you a stern look before checking over both his shoulders to see if anyone had heard.

You glared at him and tried speaking again, this time in a harsh whisper. “What on Hoth do you think you’re doing? You’re supposed to be in bed!”

Finn continued to hastily put on pieces of his armor. “I’m getting outta here. Can’t stand it. These people-”

“You mean the doctors?” you interrupted, incredulously.

He rolled his eyes. “Yes, the doctors ,” he whispered dramatically. “They’re drivin’ me crazy.” He continued talking, the words coming out in short breaths as he wrestled with his chestplate. “They come in here… poke me with those sharp torture devices… ask me stupid questions… and then tell me I can’t leave!”

This made you snort out a laugh. “Sharp torture devices? You’d think someone who had just been shot wouldn’t mind a few needles.”

“You know what?” He paused, his nose held high in the air as his lips formed a stubborn line. He held up a finger, searching for a comeback that never came. “I’m choosing to ignore that comment. I have places to be.”

Now you were the one who was irritated. “Places to be? I checked and made sure you didn’t have duty for another week!”

He sighed, securing the final piece of armor. “I’m not going on duty. I’m going to get some food — the stuff they’ve been giving me here sucks.”

You rolled your eyes. Of course his priority was the food. “Finn, you’re still healing. I can bring you something to eat!”

“Not happening. These doctors and droids creep me out and I want to leave.”

“But-”

“You would like to accompany me? How nice of you to offer!”

You sighed. This was yet another battle you wouldn’t win.

“Fine,” you conceded. “I’ll walk you to the cafeteria, but then I have to meet with the crew.”

“Fantastic, after you,” he said, pulling his helmet over his head and gesturing towards the open door.

You started for the exit with a huff, but suddenly put out an arm to stop Finn before he could leave the room. He looked down at you, cocking his head slightly in confusion.

“Just know that I will be checking up on you every single day for the next week,” you told him, shooting him your most intimidating stare. “And I am much scarier than those doctors and droids you’ve been complaining about.”

He nodded, his shoulders sinking slightly, before once again gesturing to the open doorway. You shook your head briefly and began walking towards the cafeteria. The two of you travelled in silence for a while but at the midpoint of your trek across the Finalizer, when the corridors became a bit more crowded, you felt Finn put a guiding hand on the small of your back. Once you rounded a corner, it was just you and him again.

A couple more minutes passed and you felt him fall slightly behind you. A familiar tingle at the back of your neck made itself known as a wash of uncertainty enveloped you. You turned to look at Finn, whose helmet was darting around at the walls nervously. Looking down, you noticed his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. Something is wrong.

You once again put out a hand to stop him from walking any further. “Alright, that’s it. Tell me what’s up.”

He looked at you, startled, confused, and slightly guilty.

“Uh… Nothing’s up. W-why do you ask?”

You put a hand on your hip and raised one suspicious eyebrow. “You’re a terrible liar. You’re all fidgety — what’s going on?”

He turned to face you, debating whether or not to deny you any further. This time, you won.

“Ugh, why are you like this?” he said, exasperated. You gave him a mocking shrug, waiting for him to continue.

“Fine. I was just thinking…” He looked everywhere but at you. “In case you happened to be wondering, it’s...” he paused before letting out a dramatic sigh. “It’s Koda’s birthday tomorrow.” Another huff of breath came from under his helmet. “There. You happy now?”

“His birthday?” you repeated, even though you had heard him clearly.

“Yeah. He doesn’t really tell anyone…” Finn paused, shifting on his feet, his tone becoming more serious. “I’m not sure if you remember what happened on the day I found him…”

You tried to remember the conversation you had with Koda. You recalled his somber expression as he painstakingly relayed to you his childhood on Dantooine.

“Yeah,” you said. “He told me that parents skipped his own birthday for some Resistance diplomat’s birthday party, right?”

Finn nodded. “Pretty much. It went beyond that, but that was the breaking point for him.” He sighed deeply, obviously affected by the thought of Koda being neglected, before continuing. “Then he took off, found me and a few other troopers, and came back here with us.”

You nodded solemnly before speaking again. “So why are you telling me this now? The last time I saw you guys in a room together you repelled like magnets.”

You had a pretty good idea of the answer to your question, but you wanted to hear it from Finn himself. Despite the rift that had grown between the two men, you sensed that they still cared about each other deeply. After all, that was what their whole argument was based on: not hate or malice, but friendship, loyalty, and love.

“Well, Koda came to visit me in the medbay a few days ago. He didn’t say much but… I don’t know. I guess it just got me thinking about what you said — about cutting him some slack for his decision to stay with the Order when he could’ve left.”

“And?” you tried to hold back your smile, happy to see that something you said had stuck with him. Finn deserved to get his best friend back.

He crossed his arms over his chest. “Aaaand I’m not gonna say any more about it because you are getting way too much enjoyment out of this.”

You put your own arms up defensively. “Okay, okay, I’ll be civil. Thank you for telling me. I’ll think of something we can put together for him.”

Finn nodded, but neither of you went to move forward.

“You’re invited of course,” you suggested, knowing that he would probably decline.

You were right and watched as he shook his head. “I dunno, I’m not sure he’d want me there. Baby steps, ya know?”

You were going to protest, but you decided to trust him on this one. He knew Koda the best and you wanted him to do this at his own pace. “I understand,” you smiled warmly. “Baby steps it is.”

————————————

It was Koda’s birthday. You had told Rilea about the situation and after a moment of shock, an emotion you didn’t see from her often, she immediately went into party planning mode. You were a little surprised that Koda hadn’t told Rilea about his birthday before; she had known him the longest and could name everything from his favorite foods to his pet peeves. In a way though, it made sense. Koda wasn’t the kind of person who wanted to ‘burden’ others with his own problems.

You, Rilea, Akilah, and even Soren, gathered in the artist workspace waiting for Koda to arrive. Rilea had told him there was an emergency meeting and that he needed to meet them urgently. She was now running around the room frantically, making sure everything was in its proper place. Akilah, being one of the tallest members of the group, was busy retaping decorations to the ceiling. Soren stood at the back of the room, fidgeting with a stack of napkins. You worked on scattering shredded pieces of colored paper, what Rilea referred to as ‘budget confetti’, on the tables.

Looking around, you realized how different the group was without Koda present. He always managed to fill any room he entered with life. He and Rilea were constantly yelling at each other, whether that be out of excitement over some mutual interest, or irritation at each other’s silly disagreements. Akilah and Koda could sometimes be found in a quiet corner of the room, having some sort of intellectual debate, which Akilah almost always won. Even though Soren acted like he despised Koda, the latter always knew how to bring him into a conversation when he quietly hovered at the back of the room.

Koda had the amazing ability to say all the right things just when you needed it. He made you feel like you could be honest around him, largely due to the way he wore his own heart on his sleeve. He was fiercely loyal to his friends and his beliefs and despite having only known him for a little while, you trusted him to have your back through anything.

The sound of footsteps in the hallway interrupted your train of thought and Rilea flew to the front of the room, her wild golden hair streaming behind her. She whispered harshly for everyone to be quiet. A few seconds later, Koda walked through the door.

“What’s goin-”

Rilea gave the signal.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!”

He looked around the room in shock. Colorful garlands criss-crossed the ceiling, dangling above a table lined with all his favorite foods. Hand-drawn signs were hung on the walls, the flickering light from the cake’s candles bouncing off of them. Bright pieces of paper decorated the tables like stars in the sky. It was the kind of birthday party he always wished he could’ve had as a kid.

It was perfect.

“You guys…” he started, rendered speechless by the scene before him.

You watched as he looked at each of you, adorned with paper hats that Rilea made from leftover posters. He chuckled when he saw Soren, who was still sulking towards the back, wearing one, though he knew it was probably against his will.

He finally spoke, choking on his words as he did so. “You all did this for me?”

“Of course.” you said. “That’s what family does.”

It was a simple statement, but one that held deep meaning in Koda’s life. His eyes welled with tears and he shook his head, looking down towards his feet, as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

Noticing his reaction, Rilea stepped beside him, grabbing his hand before pulling him in for a hug. You watched them with a silent smile, knowing that you were witnessing the start of something special.

Rilea pulled away, tears now filling her eyes too, before chuckling to herself. “Look what you made me do you big oaf,” she said, playfully hitting Koda in the arm. They each had one arm wrapped around the other’s waist. You glanced over at Akilah, who was already looking back at you, a knowing smirk on both of your faces.

Rilea’s shout broke the silence. “What are you two looking at? Come on, don’t you want to join in this emotional mess?”

You looked at Akilah and shrugged. “Sure, why not?”

You joined the hug and watched as Akilah hesitated before heading to where Soren was brooding, and grabbed his hand. He looked like a scared loth-cat as she dragged him over to where you, Rilea, and Koda were huddled. She forcefully wrapped an arm around him, bringing him into the group hug. The five of you stayed like that for what seemed like eons. Despite your differences, it was true, you had become a family. A strange dysfunctional space family, but a family nonetheless. When it came down to it, you would all go to the ends of the galaxy for each other.

Koda was the first to move, taking a step back from the group. “Wait a second, how did you know today was my birthday?”

You smirked knowingly, mimicking his movement. “A stubborn stormtrooper you and I both know may have told me yesterday.”

His eyes opened wide and he shifted on his feet. You could tell he was trying to look casual, but the crack in his voice said otherwise. “Finn? He… he did?”

“He did,” you replied.

“Oh,” he said, stunned. “I guess... I should thank him at some point.”

“Yeah,” you smiled. “I think he’d like that.”

“So are we going to eat at any time in the near future?” Soren asked, obviously uncomfortable with the excess of emotions surrounding him. Akilah shot him a sharp glare, prompting him to look down at his feet in stubborn apology.

Koda stepped forward, eyeing the table for himself. “Are those Dantooine flapjacks?” he asked, his eyes wide in surprise.

“Yeah, I heard you talk about them once when we first met,” Rilea said. “I asked around the ship looking for a recipe and it turns out one of my pops’ coworkers is from Dantooine, so she helped me out a bit.”

“Stars, I haven’t had these in years.” He turned towards Rilea, gratitude in his eyes. “Thank you.”

She waved him off. “Awe, don’t go all soft on me now you ol’ Ewok.”

He smiled, tugging on a piece of her hair playfully. “Whatever Spacer, let’s eat.”

You were surprised to hear Koda’s nickname for Rilea. ‘Spacer’ was a term used for people who had spent their whole lives in space. You had heard Rilea mention her dad, or ‘pops’ as she called him, just moments before, but realized you really didn’t know too much about her upbringing or her family. You made a mental note to ask her about it later.

Right now, all you wanted to do was sit back, eat cake, and enjoy this small, beautiful moment with your favorite people. Moments like these didn’t come around too often on the Finalizer, but when they did, it was magical.

—————————————

Later that day, word had gotten around that the Commander was back from his mission. Excitement and worry coursed through your body. You needed to talk to him. You didn’t know why exactly — it was just a feeling. And it was this feeling that seemed to be bringing you closer and closer to the training room.

When you arrived, the door was open a crack, and upon peeking through you recognised the telltale cloak of the Commander. He was turned away from you, making it hard to read his mood.

“Commander?” you said quietly, tapping the door lightly.

No response. The nerves you had felt moments ago were much more prominent now. You were about to knock on the door again when you heard a low: “Come in.”

He didn’t turn to you as you entered. Instead, he continued to face the large window that looked out at the expanse of space that surrounded the Finalizer. Sensing that something was wrong, you closed the door behind you. “Are you alright?”

“Yes.” His answer came quick, too quick.

“No you’re not.” You approached him cautiously. “I can feel it.”

A low sound came from his direction and you watched as his shoulders shakily rose and fell suddenly. “You are getting good at that.”

You knew he was referencing your ability to read others’ emotions, something you had always attributed to your intuitive personality until you arrived on the Finalizer. You thought about how you could’ve gone your whole life without knowing the abilities you now possessed, how you could’ve never come to understand the power that flowed through your body.

You smiled, grateful that you now knew the truth about yourself. “Only thanks to your training.”

“No, not just that.” He finally turned to look at you, but what you saw made you frown. He seemed... tired. His hair was a bit messier than usual and his eyes didn’t have that glint of stubborn determination that they normally did. He continued speaking: “You’ve had this power within you since you were born. Now you are simply learning how to harness it.”

“Yeah, well…” you let the rest of your sentence drift off. He was deflecting. “You still haven’t told me what’s bothering you.”

He shrugged nonchalantly. “It’s nothing I can’t handle.”

He is so stubborn, you thought. “I don’t doubt that, but that doesn’t mean it’s not worth talking about.”

He paused for a moment, considering your statement, before responding. “My superior and I are having… a disagreement.”

You shuddered at the mention of his superior, the one you still knew nothing about besides the fact that he was dangerous. And that the most powerful man you knew was afraid of him.

“About what?” you asked, nervously.

“You.”

Your skin went cold. He knew. He knew you were Force sensitive. He knew the Commander was training you. He knew about Lothal. Oh, kriff. What if he knew that you had been working for… No, he would’ve said something by now. He probably would’ve killed you by now. The thought made you shiver. The Commander must have sensed your unease and took a few steps in your direction, his face briefly twitching in worry.

“He doesn’t know about your abilities. I’ve managed to keep that from him. But he knows that you’re…” You held your breath, preparing for the worst: your biggest secret to finally be revealed. “Special. He knows that you are important to m-” he paused, correcting himself, but not before you caught onto what he was about to say. “He knows that you are important.”

You signed in relief. He still didn’t know who you were. The initial panic dissolving, you finally managed to process what he had said, a blush creeping onto your face as you did. Stars, where did that come from?

“O-oh,” you managed to stutter out.

He seemed unaffected by your surprise. “If he finds out about your abilities… I’m not sure I can-” He pauses and looks down at his hands, seemingly frustrated at himself. “He’s powerful. Too powerful.”

You were growing more and more curious about his superior. It was unlike the Commander to admit his weakness so you knew that he must be extremely powerful. But the Commander was surrounded by those with power, what made this person so different? And why did he want to keep you from him so bad?

You decided to prod further. “Can I ask you something?”

He nodded silently.

“Why don’t you give me up to him? He would reward you greatly, I’m sure. Why not just give him what he wants?”

You watched as his eyebrows drew together in what seemed like a joint expression of confusion and frustration. “I’ve seen what he can do. If he finds out you’re force-sensitive, he’ll try to train you himself. But his training… methods… are different from mine.”

“Different?”

“They’re cruel,” he responded bluntly.

“But if I’m going to be powerful, powerful like you…”

He interrupted you sternly. “I don’t want you to be powerful like me. Never.” He softened his voice after noticing the surprised look on your face. “It’s just… you can be powerful, but in your own way. I don’t want you to…”

The end of his sentence was left suspended in the space between you.

“What?” you asked, not willing to let his thought slide.

“Change,” he sighed. “I don’t want you to change.”

This was different, you thought. When you first met the Commander, he seemed adamant on making you do things his way, and now, he wanted you to do the opposite.

“And you think if your superior trains me, I’ll change?” you asked.

“Yes.” The Commander moves to sit down, but does so slowly. Too slowly. A slight groan escapes his mouth.

“Are you okay?” you ask again, taking a few steps towards him.

“I told you,” he grunted, dark hair concealing his eyes. “I’m fine.”

A dark thought crossed your mind, one involving the enigmatic figure that Kylo worked for.

“Did… did he do something to you?”

He gripped the chair tightly in response. The action did not pass by you unnoticed. “It’s nothing I can’t handle.”

“You keep saying that Commander but-”

“Kylo. Call me Kylo.”

“Kylo,” you said the name confidently for the first time. It felt much better than saying Commander, but something still didn’t sit right about the way it rolled off your tongue. You drew your attention back to Kylo, who was breathing heavier than you would’ve liked, obviously straining to conceal whatever injury he had sustained from you. Thinking for a second, an idea began to form in your mind. “Let me help.”

“What?” he questioned skeptically.

“I could try using the Force.”

He answered immediately, sitting up straight and looking at you, fierceness returning to his eyes. “No.”

That wasn’t the reaction you were expecting. You had spent the last few weeks training with him for moments like these, and now he was declining you the opportunity to put what you learned into practice.

You tried mentioning this to him. “Please, I need to test my abilities.”

He simply shook his head in response. “No, it’s dangerous. You’ve already done enough for me.”

You took a step closer to him. Even though he was sitting down, he was still only slightly shorter than you. You reached out slowly, taking one of his hands in yours. He stilled for a moment, unsure of what to do, before closing his fingers around yours. He had taken his gloves off before you entered the room, and you found yourself savoring the touch of his bare hand against yours. It was warm, but rough. Hardened by years of fighting. Each one of his fingers was twice the size of yours and you could feel the Force subtly flow through the places where your palms and knuckles touched.

“You healed me once,” you said quietly. “Now let me return the favor.”

You felt his hands suddenly tighten around yours, as if he was afraid to let go. His chin quivered briefly before he looked up at you, his hazel eyes glistening with something unfamiliar. Were those… tears?

“Why are you- After everything I’ve done, you still… How?”

His words came in short, frantic bursts.

“Kylo…” you paused, trying to find the right words of your own. You needed to do something, say something, that showed him he could accept your help; that he was worthy of your help. “We all do things we aren’t proud of, especially when we are under the orders of others.” A throb of guilt ran through your body. “But there will always be surprising glimpses of clarity and peace that help to keep us centered. Special moments where our hearts defeat our heads. And it’s those moments that keep us going and it’s those moments that should define us. I learned this from you, Kylo. When you trained me to use my powers, when you carried me through the woods on Dantooine, when you spared my father’s life simply because I asked, when you told me about the convor on Lothal, and when you healed my arm simply so I could draw again…” You shook your head, smiling at the recollection of memories.

“My dad used to tell me this story, you know… It was about these lights that would appear to travellers at night — he called them will-o’-the-wisp. He said you can only see them in the marshes of Lothal near the ancient Jedi temples and were known for leading travellers astray. There are different tellings of what the lights actually are: some say they’re the spirits of the dead, set on vengeance, others say they lead you to hidden treasure. But what most people can agree on is that these lights are symbols of false hope.”

You paused, choosing your next words wisely. You wanted to be vulnerable, so Kylo would know it was okay for him to be vulnerable too.

“Sometimes I feel like that, like I’m a traveller, blindly following the will-o’-the-wisp.” You chuckled, raising a hand out towards the massive window. “After all, we are just space dust at the end of the day. Years from now, I won’t be here. You won’t be here. This galaxy won’t be here. No one will remember us, or all that we’ve fought for. We are so small compared to the rest of the universe.” You shook your head, looking down at your hands incredulously. “But despite knowing that, for some strange and ridiculous reason, we still care.” You now smiled to yourself, as if processing the meaning behind your words for the first time. “Life is silly. It’s trivial. Ephemeral. But somehow, we manage to make it big and beautiful.” For the first time since you began talking, you looked up at Kylo. “There’s something amazing about that, don’t you think?”

He didn’t answer — he simply gazed into your eyes with his own earthy irises. You took that as a sign to continue. “It’s something I know I want to be a part of, and I think that you do too. You’ve shown me that it’s okay to feel sad, angry, or lost, just like it’s okay to feel happy and content.” Your smile grew even wider, your eyes shining bright despite the darkness of the room. “Admittedly, I still need to work a bit on the former, and from what I’ve seen, I think you need to work on the latter.” Kylo let out a huff of air, making you smirk. “But I know it’s there. I’ve seen you laugh when you think no one’s listening. I saw how you smiled on Lothal. I’ve even heard your attempts at cracking jokes. It’s all there. Please, Kylo, let me help. You deserve help.”

He inhaled deeply, closing his eyes on the exhale. You knew that at this moment he was fighting an internal battle; a battle between the part of him that desperately needed help, and the other more dominant part of him that was too stubborn to admit it.

“Okay.”

You nodded and sat on your knees in front of him, your right hand still holding his, attempting to hide your slight shock at his concession. You had never healed anyone before. To be fair, you had never really tried. But you thought that because his injury didn’t seem to be life-or-death, it was at least worth a shot.

You weren’t sure where exactly he was hurting, so you relied on your instincts to guide you. A prickle that ran through your left hand prompted you to take his other hand in yours. Closing your eyes, you began to probe his body with your mind, trying to find any areas of the force that felt weak.

After a few minutes passed with no luck, you felt something start to happen. It began as a small pinprick of feeling at the back of your head. Before long, the prick transformed into a tingle that ran throughout your entire body. You felt pulses of electricity move through your neck, shoulders, forearms, all the way down to your hands; the ones that still held tightly to Kylo’s. Then, it was gone. However, almost as soon as it left, it was replaced by a similar tingle, but one you knew didn’t belong to you. It was Kylo.

You hadn’t even thought about the fact that doing this could break down your own barriers enough that he would be let in. You felt the foreign tingle work its way up your body, guiding its tendrils to your neck before eventually reaching towards the edges of your mind.

You tried to build up your walls again, letting out a small gasp, but it was too late. Whatever Kylo was doing, he wasn’t doing it on purpose. This was out of his control and yours. You felt a large, trembling hand cradle the back of your neck, stabilizing you as you slipped backwards, weak from your exertion. You panicked as you realized that all you could do was try to guide him towards the harmless memories — the ones of you and Finn walking the hallways of the Finalizer, or you waving at a scowling Mrs. Stoney at the reception desk, or when you ate Koda’s birthday cake earlier that day…

But your mind had other ideas.

Your memories flitted before you like pages in an out-of-control flipbook, inching closer and closer to the one that you couldn’t let Kylo see. You squeezed your hands tighter around his as you tried to stop the flashes as they moved towards your most terrible secret. The visions became filled by images and scenes of your brother, your dad, your mom ...

The whole world seemed to stand still as you suddenly found yourself back in your home on Lothal. You looked around, knowing exactly what you were about to witness; what Kylo was about to witness.

“You’re an artist; you always have been. An artist who can save the Resistance with her work.” Your mother paused, looking at you with a glint in her eye that you knew meant she was serious. “Kriff, you could save the whole galaxy with just a few strokes of a pen.”

You felt yourself conceding, even though you knew you had lost the argument the moment it had started. “You really think this could make any kind of difference?”

She took both of your hands in hers. “I know it could.”

Wordlessly, you shot her a final look that warned: whatever happens, it’s on you. She seemed to understand the meaning behind your stare and gave a nearly imperceptible nod.

“Then I’ll do it.”

A pained gasp sounded in the room, and you couldn’t tell if it had come from you or Kylo.

The bond between the two of you snapped as Kylo stood abruptly, stumbling over the chair behind him. He looked like he had been physically hurt, breathing heavily and holding onto the wall with one hand for balance.

Your eyes were wide and your heart pounded in your chest as you realized the gravity of what had just taken place.

“Oh no, no, no — Kylo please,” you stood, moving towards his heaving form. “It’s not… It’s not like that anymore.”

He slowly looked up, breathing harshly through his nose. His mouth was pulled taut and his chin quivered menacingly. His whole body radiated pure, oppressive anger. But meeting his gaze, you noticed his eyes revealed a different emotion: they were devastated.

He spoke slowly and deliberately. “It’s not like what?”

You stuttered, trying to explain the strange turn of events that made you help the Resistance, and the even stranger events that made you stop helping them. “I’m not a part of that — ever since I found out about my brother — what my parents, what the Resistance, did to him... “

Kylo interrupted you, speaking through teeth clenched so tightly, you thought they would shatter.

“You’ve been lying to me this whole time? Everything you said, about helping me... That was all so you could find out the Order’s next plans?”

You looked at your feet guiltily. You thought about lying to him, but knew it was no use. You owed it to him to be honest. “I- I was,” you revealed. “But not anymore. Our connection, the Force, it changed everything. You saw what happened on Lothal. Working for my mother, the Resistance; that isn’t a life I wanted.”

He was barely listening to you now, instead choosing to pace back and forth across the floor of the room. “Everything I told you, showed you… How could I be so blind?”

You reached out to him, attempting to still his frustrated strides. “No, please, Kylo. I’m telling the tru-”

He suddenly did something you had never seen him do before, not even when you first arrived on the Finalizer. He powered on his lightsaber and aimed it directly at you.

You tried to remain calm while slowly stepping back against the wall, keeping your eyes trained on his, rather than the fiery beam of light at your neck.

“Please Kylo, I was wrong before. I don’t agree with a lot of the things that happen on this ship, you know that. But you were the first person I’d ever met who was honest with me. My parents lied to me my whole life, and because of those lies, I lied to you. That was wrong — I know that now. You’ve never been scared of who I am, both the crazy artist and the Force-wielder. Just like how I can see you for who you truly are. Not like the others on this ship… They’re scared of you.”

Hearing that, he held the lightsaber closer to your throat, its heat burning against your neck inches away from your skin.

“And what about you, are you scared of me?”

The lightsaber was now grazing your skin, its red-hot sparks making you flinch in pain.

“I wasn’t,” you said quietly, barely a whisper. “Not until now.”

An image suddenly flashed across your mind, a memory: An older man in brown robes stood over a young boy, eyes wild, preparing to swing a green lightsaber through his body. The image was blurry, but you saw the boy’s eyes open as he turned to face the green glow of the lightsaber, his body frozen in a state of complete fear. You recognized those eyes instantly. As the lightsaber swung towards the boy, the vision disappeared.

You inhaled sharply as Kylo violently ripped his saber away from your body, affected by the vision you both witnessed. Instead, he opted for slicing through the nearest communication stations. You ducked as sparks flew from his saber. Seemingly dissatisfied by the destruction, he punched his own fist into a nearby wall.

“I trusted you,” he spoke in a deep, growling voice that would’ve been terrifying if not for the crack on the last word.

“Kylo, please,” you begged. “Look at me. Look into my mind.” You paused. “I- I’m asking you to.”

His posture shifted slightly, but his harsh voice remained the same. “What?”

“I have nothing to hide now. Look: see that I’ve changed, see that I don’t serve them anymore.”

With no hesitation, he rushed in front of you, putting a hand in front of your head. You shrunk back slightly, startled by his sudden approach, but maintained eye contact to show your willingness to let him in. Surprisingly, his probing wasn’t harsh; It was sporadic instead. Crackling tendrils whipped through memories, ones you hadn’t shown anyone before.

You watched as glimpses of your past danced behind your eyes for the second time that day. You found yourself painting with your father on the dirt floor of your house on Lothal. You watched as you waved goodbye to your brother from the kitchen window, not knowing it would be the last time you ever saw him. You saw yourself meet Kylo for the first time, confused by the tingling at the back of your neck, the one you initially mistook for a rogue bug. You remembered him threatening you, holding you against the wall as he attempted to read your mind. Your visions then brought you to Dantooine, to the moment when Kylo saved you from attackers and carried you through the woods. The scenery transformed back to the Finalizer and you watched your friendships develop, the echoes of their laughs surrounding the air around you. You observed the moment you discovered the true story behind your brother’s death, right in the same room you and Kylo were in now. That was the moment everything had changed. The rest of the images flew by in a blur: Lothal, your father, a blaster bolt. A bird briefly appeared, dipping into the depths of your mind before dissolving as the sounds of a lively birthday party filled your head. Feelings of warmth, love, and hope for the future invaded your senses, only to be stopped by a black wall.

You gasped, Kylo’s hold on your mind finally releasing. He seemed stunned for a moment, meeting your tear-filled eyes with his hazel ones in a final moment of vulnerability, before straightening his posture and putting back on his gloves. When his face turned back to yours, it was as if he was looking right through you.

“I want you gone by the night.”

Your tears fell freely now, plummeting in silent drops to the floor. You hated seeing him like this. Despite you being able to see each feature of his face, it felt like he was still wearing his mask. “Kylo-”

He took a step closer, trapping you against the wall with his arms on either side of you.

“Or I turn you in to Snoke myself.”

So that’s what his name was.

By the time the thought fully processed, Kylo was gone.

Gazing at your reflection in the star-speckled window, you realized that you were wrong before:

You weren’t following the will-o’-the-wisp...

You were the will-o’-the-wisp.

———————————————

Previous || Masterlist || Next

[renee-writer]

Autumn

One Shot Moodboard challenge. Thanks to @molecularstardust for the beautiful moodboard.💓💓💓💓

It is her favorite time of year. With the beautiful colors and the crisp but, not yet cold, air. She doesn't like the common name for it, fall. Autumn more describes the taste of cider, the sound of crunching leaves under her boots, smell of the coming winter.

Besides, autumn is when she meet him. She was sitting on a bench in the park, her head laid back, doing nothing more then enjoying the feel of the breeze against her skin. Between classes, she can't handle being inside.

“May I join you lass?” She looks up into the bluest eyes, the color of the cloudless sky above her and a head of hair as red as a changing maple leaf.

“Ah sure.” He sits beside her, drawing his long legs under the bench.

“Jamie Fraser.” He offers his hand.

“Claire Beauchamp.” She takes it. He gently squeezes it.

“Beauchamp? French but your accent is English.”

“I had a very unusual childhood. I am surprised you picked up the English Mr. Fraser. Must people hear the many combined ones and can't quite place it.”

“Jamie. I've an ear for the English accent.”

“Growing up in Scotland?”

“Aye. I guess we are both outsiders here.”

“Yes. My Uncle said Harvard was the best so..” she shrugs.

“My da said the same. What is your field of study, Miss Beauchamp?”

“Claire. Medicine and yours Jamie?”

“Law. Seems we are two ambitious people, eh Claire?” She thoroughly enjoys the thrill that runs up her spine at the way he says her name.

“Seems so. Oh, I must be off. Have class. I will see you around Jamie.” She stands and he stands with her.

“Wait lass.” He places something in her hand. She looks down to see an small index card with his name and number on it. “So we can stay in touch, eh?”

“Thank you Jamie. Not much of a caller but will text you.”

“That will be fine Claire.” She walks to class on lighter feet.

She does text him later that day. She had returned to her little apartment, a mile of campus and pulled the card out of the front pocket of her jeans where it had been all day. She smiles as she enters his number in her phone, saving it under Jamie, the scot. She then kicks of her boots and, curling up in her favorite chair, she text him.

“Hi Jamie. It is your favorite future doctor.” She then turns to her course work. She is in the midst of studying the names of the bones in the hand, when her phone dings.

“How do you know you are my favorite future doctor, eh?”

With a smile, she replies,” So I've competition?”

She watches as little dots appear and disappear, as he changes his mind. Then.

“No.” A few more dots. “No in no way Claire.”

She stares at the phone. What she had meet as a tease, he had made serious. How was she to respond?

“I was teasing.” She decides on honesty.

“I wasn't. Don't..” Dots appear and disappear again. “Run Claire. I know... Bloody. Can I call?”

She debates only a second. “Yes.” Her heart hammers as she waits for it to ring. Finally.

“Hi.”

“Hi Claire. Have I scared you? Will you block my number?”

“I wouldn’t have answered or even gave you permission to call, if that were so. I am puzzled though.”

“At what?”

“I was really teasing. Your response..”

“Yah. I thought about joking back but… I know we just meet and hardly know each other but I feel a pull between us that won't allow me to be nothing but less then honest.”

“I do too. What is this?”

“I don't know but I know I want to see you. Want to talk with you. Want, well, a lot. But will start with dinner. Will you let me take you out?”

“Yes.”

She is in a semi panic state as she gets ready that night. She hasn't had a serious boyfriend for years and that was in upper school. Never as an adult. This feels serious. As serious as they come.

She pulls her hair up then lets it back down. Slips on slacks then changes into a dress. “Get a grip Beauchamp.” She firmly orders herself. Finally she decides hair down and a red dress that shows her figure to perfection.

He knocks on her door right on time and she almost trips over her heels getting to it. She will never make it through dinner if she doesn’t get her nerves under control. So before opening the door, she takes several cleansing breaths.

She opens the door to find Jamie in kakis and a blue button down shirt that shows off his eyes. Lord, he is gorgeous. She finds him staring at her.

“Jamie?”

“Lass, God you are so beautiful.”

“You are quite handsome yourself. Shall we go?”

“Ah yes before I.. Yes let's go.” She locks up and he takes her hand. It feels good and she links their fingers. With their wrist resting against each other, she can feel his heartbeat. It is as fast as hers.

The restaurant he chose has a stunning view of the changing leaves. He pulls out her chair and she glazes out the window at them. They bring her some much needed peace. After their drink orders are taken and the hostess leaves, she fully turns to Jamie.

“You like the changing of the colors.” He states.

“I do. It is my favorite season, Autumn. With the cool but not cold nights, the beauty of the changing leaves, hot cider and sweaters. Truly what is not to love.”

“Aye but you missed one.” He is smiling mischievously at her and she can’t resist the bait.

“That is?”

“It is also cuddle under a quilt or tarden weather. Cuddle weather, eh?”

“Yes.” Her breath is coming short again. His hand reaches across the table to cover hers. Their waitress arrives with their drinks and take their orders. Jamie asks her to come back as they hadn't even taken time to look at the menus yet.

“Shall we decide and then talk?”

“A good idea.” She agrees.

He looks down at the menu then up at her and finds her doing the same. She blushes and he smiles. After they order, he reaches out to take her hand again.

“Shall we talk about it?”

“Yes let's. This thing between us, it is quite powerful. I've never felt anything like it. I dated a bloke in upper school. Went as far as to sleep with him but never felt like I do when you simply rest your hand on mine. I am fascinated and scared. Thrilled and terrified.”

“There has never been anyone who made my heart pound with just a touch, a look. Never been anyone I can see sharing a life with, children with. Grow old with. There is heat, aye. But it is more then the urge to join bodies. Oh, and it scares me to death too.”

“Oh!” she is breathless and speechless. To know it isn’t just her is reassuring. But, he is talking marriage and babies on their first date. It is all a bit overwhelming.

“Not that I am proposing anything but dinner right now.” He is quick to add when he sees her face. “We need to go on dates. Get to know each other.”

She lets out her breath and he smiles. “That is what we will do. So Jamie, tell me about your family?”

“I've a big brother William and sister Janet, called Willie and Jenny respectively. Willie runs Lallybroch, our families estate since my da, Brian retired. Jenny married my best mate, Ian, five years ago and they have three bairns, Jamie, Maggie, and Kitty.”

“Three, in five years?”

“Aye. Jenny wants a large family and none born after she is 35.”

“Sorry, go on.” He grins at her. They still hold hands across the table. He starts to run his thumb over her palm and she lets out a deep sigh.

“Jenny stays at home with the bairns. Ian runs Lallybroch Distillery. You see, Lallybroch is many things, a working farm, a historic site( it has been in our family for over 300 years), and, the extra grain is made into spirits.”

“Sounds fascinating.”

“It was a good childhood.”

“Your mam?” That he hadn't mentioned her didn’t escaped her notice.

“Ellen. She passed two years ago from cancer.”

“Oh Jamie!” She moves to his side of the bench seat and draws him into her arms. He buries his face in her neck and let's her comfort him. That is how the waitress finds them when she delivers their orders.

“Is all alright?”

“Yes. Thank you.” Claire replies. She gives them a concerned look before setting the food down.

“Let me know if you need anything.”

“Claire, tell me about yours.” He needs a distraction. She stays on his side and tells him.

“I am an only child. My mum and daddy tried after me but.. So, I was fairly spoiled. My dad and mum are both doctors. My dad a surgeon. My mam an OB/GYN. Growing up, I knew a lot more then I should about the human body. When I was ten, my parents, Julia and Henry, let me spend summer holidays with my dad's brother, Uncle Lambert, who I call Lamb. He is an archeologist, so I spend my summers all over the world. It was wonderful.”

“Wow. That is quite nice Claire. That you was able to experience so much.”

“It was.” They stop talking to eat.

“What was the most unusual thing you saw? When with your Uncle Lamb?” He asks as he walks them back to his car. He holds her hand and she leans against him.

“Hmm, I guess it would be a completely intact room. He and the others uncovered it in Israel. It was a kitchen. The table was still set. It was awesome and strange at the same time. Like the people were just lifted out. Uncle Lamb and the others were quite excited. I was 13 and just wondered where the people went.”

“Did they figure it out?”

“Yes. Seems that it dated to the time of the Roman occupation. They fled and left everything as it was.”

“Wow.” They had reached his car and he opens the door for her. She grins and enters. He joins her. “Is that what fueled your desire to be a doctor, all you saw those summers or was it more your parents?”

“A bit of both. Seeing all the needy people. People dying from lack of simple meds, simple hygiene and clean water. My parents have always done what they could. They have did medical missions, volunteered at free clinics. So yes, both I would say. How about you? What drew you to the law?”

“”Well, I was always argumentative as a child. Had an answer for everything. My sister would tell me,’ You should be a barrister, Jamie. A joke between us, at first. As I got older, I started to see the appeal of it. At first, it was just the idea of getting paid to argue. But, as. I started to research it, I was drawn to the since of fairness, rightness. The idea of justice. Of setting things right again.”

She smiles at him as he starts his car. “A romantic not just monetary draw. Something else we have in common.” She lays her hand beside him and he covers it with his own.

“Aye. Anyone who gets into the law just to get rich, is in it for the wrong reason. Whether on the prosecution or defense side, you are serving the public good. That should be the motivation”

“I feel the same about medicine. You can't be in it for what you get out of it. A public good, as you say.”

“Aye.” He links their fingers as he drives off. He doesn’t want this date to end but knows it must. They need to do it right. This, what is between them, is to important for less.

“I feel it too, you know.” He turns quickly to look at her. “The hesitation about ending this date. I want to..” she trails off with a blush,” But, it is far to soon.”

“Aye, I was thinking the same. You are worth more then that.” He had arrived back at her place and they both sigh. He parks and gets out and opens the door. Taking her to the door “I really want to kiss you., which is why I mustn’t.” Another sigh. He bends down and brushes his lips across her forehead. He then lifts her hands up and kisses them.

“I've classes and then a test to study for tomorrow night. But, the next night can I take you out?” she asks him.

“Aye lass. Can I text you tomorrow?”

“Yes please.” She stands on her toes to reach his own forehead. “I will miss you way to much if you don't. Good night Jamie.”

“Good night Claire.”

She wakes up to a text from him.

'Good morning beautiful.’'

She smiles as she responds.

'Good morning my handsome scot.’

She is making the bed when her notification bell rings.

‘My. Like that.’

A flush covers her face. She had claimed him and isn't sure if it was intentional or not.

‘We do belong with each other.’ She text back, recalling what he said about honesty.

'Aye. And to?’

She swallows hard as she stares at her phone. He is right but, it had been just three days since she meet him.

'Claire, I'm sorry. Don't run.’

She feels the fear coming through his text. Her heart gives a lurch as she quickly replies.

‘You are right. And to each other. I am scared Jamie.’

A few seconds later.

'Don't be. There are two of us.’

'Coffee? Before class. I need to see you.’

‘And I you. Coffee aye.’

Her heart slows as soon as she sees him. He sees the relief reflected in his eyes too. He draws her into a hug, unmindful of the other people waiting.

“Better.” She says against his chest.

“Aye. Much better.”

She giggles. “How are we ever to do this Jamie. Not able to go a day.”

“Coffee and talk, eh?”

“Yes.” They order and he takes her to the table farthest away from the others.

“I've a crazy solution.” She looks at him with a head tilt. “Hear me out. Okay?” She nods. “We could get married.” Her mouth starts to open and he reaches across and covers it with his hand. “I know insane. But so is this. All of it. I am not saying jump into bed. Just join names and households. So we can live together.”

“We can do that without marriage.” She replies under his hand. He moves it. “It is 2019.”

“Aye. It is just not how I was raised. We are heading there. We both know it. So, keep doing this. Longing for each other. Or. Marry. Share a house and a bed, when we are ready.”

“Give me a day or so.”

“I guess I can do that.” She grins at him, reaches over to kiss his cheek. “Have class. I love you Jamie.”

“I love you Claire.”

“Marry!” her mind screams as she tries to focus on her classes. “It is crazy. Insane.” But, it has a strange appeal. A pull. To wake up in the same place, the same bed, well, it makes more sense then this crazy longing. Then finding herself unable to go a day without seeing him. Touching him. But, on the other hand, should she be running from the strange power of this? Shouldn’t it scare her? It does but in a thrilling way.

“Did I just propose, to a lass I've known for three days, at a coffee shop?” Jamie thinks in a kind of fascinated horror later. “Have I lost my mind?” Aye, his mind, his heart, his soul, his future, everything important to him, is hers. Totally and completely hers. They are heading towards marriage. Despite how crazy it is. They were made for each other. So, in that regard, it makes sense. He shakes himself and refocuses. He decides to do it right. Well, as right as he can now. He will get a ring and ask her proper.

His last class is over an hour before hers. He hurries to his apartment and takes out his lock box. He opens it and takes out the ring that is inside. A silver and gold mix that has a diamond crown cut in the middle. It had belonged to his grandmother. At her death, his mam had gifted it to him. “Fot the woman who will be my daughter-in-law.”

He bounces in his hand, the ring that his grandpa Simon had placed on his grandmother’s Vivian's hand when he asked for her hand 60 years ago. He wonders if they would approve of his choice. Yes, he thinks. Claire is a lot like her. Has the same intellect and ambition. He smiles. She had reared five children while taken night classes to get her business degree. She ran Lallybroch while grandpa served in the military. Yes, they would like her.

She meets him where they first meet mere four days ago. She is nervous so is he. “Claire, I am sorry. I should have never blurted it out like that. Right before we both had class.”

“No. It made concentrating hard.”

“Sorry babe. Besides the place and timing and place, what did you think?”

“There is a kind of logic to the illogical idea of it.”

He laughs aloud. “Christ Claire, your way with words. That is a perfect description.” She laughs with him. “Does that mean yes?” She looks deep into his eyes and sees all she has ever dreamed of. With a deep breath she nods.

“Yes, as crazy as it is, yes.” He drops down before her. He slips the ring out of his pocket. “Claire Elizabeth Beauchamp, I know it is crazy but there is no one else I want to hold hands with, the only one I want to wake up beside, the only one I want to see in our children’s faces, the only one I want to fight with, make up with, laugh with and cry with. Will you do me the honor of stepping into the future with me. Will you marry me?”

“Yes. Yes Jamie!” He slips the ring on her finger. It fits perfectly. “Did you go out and..”

“No. It was my grandma's. Does it suit because I can.”

“No. God Jamie. It is beautiful.”

“Like you.”

“You know we have yet to even kiss.” His fiancée reminds him.

“Hmm we should remedy that.” He stands up and pulls her to her feet. Placing his hands on her face, he meets her eyes before lowering his head.

Neither are sure what to expect but are not prepared for the power behind it. She clings to his shoulders to avoid falling. He holds tight to her back to prevent the same. She feels the power he is holding in check. He feels the trust she is given him and is exquisitely careful with it.

They both look awed as they come apart. She rest her head against his chest. His arms come tight around her.

“So, do you want a long engagement.” He asks against her head.

“No. I think a short one would be best.” He chuckles.

“I agree. You want a church wedding?”

“I think simpler is better. Maybe a church wedding later. Like on an anniversary.”

“Okay. Claire I don’t even know if you are a Catholic?”

“I am. Nominal but yes.”

“Good. That is good. Children, you want children?”

“Boy are we doing this backwards.” She says with a laugh. “Yes, I want children.”

“We are. Okay Claire, let's go..”

“To your place. And talk.”

“Aye. My place it is.” They join hands and the feel of the ring does strange things to Jamie, and he takes her to his flat.

His place is tiny but neat. He was verra glad he followed his mam's advise and always kept it straightened. “Yah ne' ken when you will want to bring a lass home.” She had advised,” so always assume you will.” Because he followed that rule, he knows he won’t be embarrassed by wet towels on the floor or dishes in the sink. This is not just any lass, but his fiancée. He is thankful for the good first impression.

She smiles as she walks in. An efficiency, with the living room/ bedroom together. The perfectly made bed is off to the side. The sofa has a tarden style blanket over the back. A bookshelf is filled with both law books and novels. The kitchen is clean with just a few dishes in the drainer.

“I am impressed. Mine isn't this neat.”

“My mam. She always told me to leave the house as if I would be bringing someone back to it.”

“A smart woman.”

“Aye, you would have liked her and she you.”

“Yes. I think so.”

“Come Claire, let's talk.” She takes a seat on his couch and fingers the soft fabric of the tarden.

“Your families colors?”

“Aye, the Fraser colors.” He takes it and spreads it out over their laps.

“Beautiful.” She runs her hands over it.

“Aye.” But he isn’t talking about the tarten. He meets her eyes and they both swallow. “Talk. We need to talk.”

“Yes. How many children do you want?”

“Two or three. Siblings teach you a lot, I've found.”

“Yes. I always wanted one. So, are you a ‘attend mass every time the doors are open' type or..”

“Or. I should go more. But..”

“Ah, that is me too.”

And so, they slowly get to know their future spouses for the first time. They discuss family, their own and what they expect for the one they are building together, values and mores, and then they get to the more intimate stuff.

“I was 16. He was 19. I was in Paris with Uncle Lamb. He was sweet, and very French. We were at his flat and I felt myself very grown-up. Well, until I missed my cycle.” His eyes get comically large, “I wasn’t. Just nerves. It was only a week but put me off the whole idea for awhile. Besides, I couldn’t figure out what the attraction was. It seemed a messy affair that only brought pleasure to the man.”

“You didn’t..”

“No. I hardly ever do. I know it is harder for a woman but..”

He is shaken his head. “The man must take his time and pay attention. Though, my first probably didn’t get much out of it either. I was seventeen, a bit older, eh. She was also. We were out in the barn, fumbling in the hay loft. I took her in three strokes.”

“Three.” She is giggling.

“I've gotten better.” It is without thought that there lips come together, that there hands fumble under the tarden that still covers them. Hers land on his thighs. His glaze her breasts. Their moans blend together. She finds herself under him as he kisses down her neck. Her hands twisted in that wonderful hair.

“Please,” she whispers, as his hands work under her sweater.

“Are you sure?”

“Very. I want you.” He eases it up as she pulls on his. He lifts hers off and then his own. She watches his eyes as he looks at her. Her breasts are one part of her body she is insecure about. To small, she has always thought. But, the awe she sees in his eyes makes her start to think differently.

“Claire, you are the most beautiful woman I've ever seen.”

“You don't think them to small?”

“No,” he lowers the bra straps. “God no. You are esquist.” He reaches back to take it off before moving his hands to the front to cup her. She shivers at the contact. “With nipples like cherries. Shall we see if they are as sweet?” Her eyes drift closed as he lowers his head. Only to fly open with his first deep suck.

“Oh god!” It feels so good. So very good as his pulling mouth works her nipple deeper in. His fingers pull on the other one. He then switches sides. Her left is even more sensitive and she cries out as he starts to love on it. The thought that he is to be her husband and her breasts will have this type of attention all the time is what causes her to tear up. He feels them fall on his neck and looks up.

“Am I hurting you?”

“No. I just realized that, as my husband, you can love on my breast, like that all the time.”

“Ah lass, and we have just begun.” He pulls her jeans off and kisses down her belly.

“Where? What?”

“I think you know.”

“Yes, it is just..”

“Aye?” he rests on her hip bone and looks up at her with raised eye brows. “Ah, there is an odor.” She is blushing.

“True. You smell of your desire for me and it is intoxicating. Please Claire, let me bring you pleasure. “ She nods and tries to relax as her eases her panties off. He kisses back up her legs, easing them open. He licks up her inner thigh, and she starts to shake with anticipation.

He kisses her mound before opening her with his hands. She closes her eyes as he starts to lap her, up and down. He hits her clit with every swipe and she is soon panting for more. He fully turns his attention to it.

“Ohhh!” She had never felt anything like his mouth holding her in place as his tongue pulled at her. His hand comes up and finds her left nipple and she is gone. Pulled almost out of her body by the surge of pleasure, her legs start to shake and quiver, her body bows up and over him. He keeps a hold of her breast and clit and waits for her to come down. When she does, he pulls her back over with a deep suck and a gentle squeeze. This time she screamed.

“That,” he breathlessly tells her. “Is what it is supposed to feel like.”

“Yes! Oh yes. Thank you.”

He grins from her belly where he had worked his way too. “Shall we continue? We don’t have to. Can wait if you want.”

“Sweet man, I want you. Let's go mess up your bed.”

“Oh aye,” He pulls off his clothes before taken her hand and leading her into his room. “Claire, are you on something?” he asked her.

“No I, well I've not been.”

“Right. No worries I've,” He reaches into his bedside drawer. “My da taught his sons to always have rubbers around. That you will never know and.. well, I listened.”

“Thank God you did.” He grins in agreement before pulling one out of the just opened box.

“Aye.” She climbs on the bed. He joins her and runs his hands down her body. “You are so very beautiful, my wife-to-be.”

“Soon Jamie. I wish to be married soon.”

“Aye, me too.” He is playing with her breast and she starts to gasp and keen. “Claire, may I?” In answer, she takes the rubber from him and slips in on. Her hands on him are almost his undoing. He groans and then gasp as she guides him between her legs. “Oh God. “ The feel of her, surrounding him, he knows he was exactly where he was born to be.

“Yes, Jesus Jamie, yes!” her hands hold tight to him as he starts to move. He watches her, gaging her reaction so he can find the rhythm that suits them both. The slow slide, in and out, that has her clawing at his back, seems to be it.

“Close. Oh God. Jamie I think..” he smiles and lowers his head, drawing that wonderfully sensitive left nipple in. It is all she needs and, with his next slide in, she gasps, and cries out as she clamps around him. “Oh!”

“That's it, my love. “ he sooths as she comes down. He had stopped as she came around him, not wanting to cum himself, just yet.

“Oh wow!” He kisses her deeply before picking it back up. He moves a bit faster and her legs come up to hold him in place. “Jamie!”

He is determined to bring her there again and lifts her wonderful bum up, drawing her closer. Her pants and gasps get more frantic and he feels it build back up in both of them. “Come baby. Cum with me.” She starts to move with him and a minute later whimpers and groans as the pleasure runs back through her. He follows within seconds, crying out her name.

“Well okay then,” She says after a few more hundred heartbeats that slowly return to normal. “That is what it is supposed to feel like.”

“Aye.” He lays breathless and sweating beside her. “Aye but that is making love. Was new to me. The intensity.”

“Good. Good to know I am not alone.”

“Never again.” He rolls over and faces her,” that is my vow to you. You will ne' face another day or night alone.”

“God Jamie. I so love you.”

“You are my world. When do you wish to make the wedding then?”

“Do you wish your family here?”

“We can have ceremony for them later. Just you and I is fine for now. Unless you wish your family here?”

“No, just us sounds perfect. Can we just go to the register tomorrow?”

“Aye, my love. We can if that be your wish.”

“Yes please.”

“Then that is what we will do.”

That is what they do. After stopping to purchase simple gold bands, they walk into the registers office, hand in hand.

“We would like to be married, please.” He tells the lady at the counter.

“Excellent. Need you to fill out this license. You have ID?” They hand it to her. “Very good.”

“So, we can get married now?”

“Yes you may. In three day.”

“Three days?” Claire complains.

“Yes. We have a three day period from when the license is filed and when it is picked up. Gives us time to see if you are married elsewhere and you time to cool off, not to marry in haste.”

“It is only three days. I am going nowhere.” Jamie tells her.”

“Right.” She smiles at him. “We can be married here though?”

“Yes. The day you pick up your license.”

“Thank you. We will be back.”

“I bet she thinks I am pregnant.” Claire teases as they leave, still hand in head.”

“Undoubtedly. Well it matters not what she thinks. We know why we wish to be married so fast.” She smiles at him. “Because I canna live another day without you.”

“Nor I, you. Well, it is only three days and with classes and all.”

“Time will go fast. Aye.”

“And it doesn’t mean we can’t be together. Neither of us have class until tomorrow.” His eyes shoot up.

“Well then, future Mrs. Fraser, your place or mine?”

“Oh, we have to figure that out. Later.”

They stand before the judge three days later. Holding tight to each others hands and looking deep in each others eyes, they repeat the words that bind them together. They slip the rings on and kiss. They take a selfie with the marriage license and their ringed fingers. They send it to their families and then hide in her apartment for a week, waiting for the explosion to die down. Their families eventually come to understand and except the marriage.

A year later, August Julia-Ellen Fraser is born. The grandparents and aunts and uncles come to meet the chestnut haired blue eyed lass. When they see how in love her parents are and how the are making it work, still keeping up with their classes still on the right track, the last of their doubts fade away.

They return to Scotland after finishing school. They build their practices as their children grow. Every Autumn, they take a week, just them, and go camping. Exploring the monros, making love under the stars, keep warm by her husbands heat, reminds Claire why it is her favorite season.

[lunasxsol]

Love Like This

Bill Skarsgård x Reader

Word Count: 2194

Warnings: Abortion

(A/N: If you do not believe a woman should have a choice on her body then you can fuck off thank you vm. On another note I hope you enjoy this angsty fic. I just had this idea lingering in my mind so it’s here now..)

As I sat in the waiting room dreading my name being called, I looked at the other women that look terrified to go into one of the rooms. Some of them came alone as myself and others came with their significant others or friends. A nurse had brought over a clipboard with some paper I had to sign. I was so nervous I couldn't keep my hands from shaking, I felt like I was going to pass out. Someone took my hand in theirs, I look up to see my best friend Maia. She took me in her arms as I silently cried.

"It's okay, I'm here."

"I thought I was gonna have to go through this alone."

She shook her head taking the clipboard from me, "I would never let you do this alone. Now you sit and calm down and I'll fill this for you okay?" I nodded taking a drink from my water.

Once she finished filling out the forms she handed them back to the nurse and we waited to be called over.

"Y/n L/n"

I got up quickly as did Maia, "You'll be alright, I'll wait here." She gave me a hug and a quick kiss on the head."

"Alright hun lets get you prepped." The nurse said as she took me to one of the operating rooms.

After 15 mins the procedure was finally done, they took me to the recovery room where Maia sat on the couch waiting for me. The nurse, Stella, handed me a cup of water and some pain meds before she went back to her office.

"You okay?" I nodded laying on the bed, Maia took my hand in hers. "He called." I stayed quiet not carrying what he had to say. "He called me too, I didn't pick up."

"Maia, I don't care anymore. I needed him here more than anything and he left me." My eyes started watering once again. "We'd been together for two years and he couldn't respect my one difficult decision. He can go to hell for all I care."

We stayed quiet for a while until the doctor came back and discharged me. Maia took drove us home, I thanked her for being there for me, "I'm going to sleep early today, goodnight Maia." She nodded.

I went into my room shutting the door quickly, taking a seat on my bed and letting myself cry. Maybe if we had gone through this conversation differently then maybe he would've respected my decision.

[Flashback]

I looked at the pregnancy test that read PREGNANT in its bold letters. What the hell was I gonna do? I'm only 19, I'm still enrolled in the uni. I have so much ahead of me. I can't put it aside, I've worked too hard for it.

"Hey babe!" Bill spoke as he walked into my room. "So my parents are having a celebratory dinner for Alexander- hey what's wrong?" He turned me around and I handed him the test. "Hey its alright, we'll figure this out."

I shook my head, "I'm not ready."

He pulled me into a hug sighing, "Neither am I but we can do this. You have me.. till the end."

"No you don't understand.. I'm not ready, I can't have a baby right now, Bill."

"So what you're going to give it up?" I nodded. "You're kidding right?"

"Bill, we aren't ready. Do you not get it?" I threw the pregancy test in the trash brushing past him and taking a seat on my bed. "Your body isn't going to go through the entire change. I am not you. You get to walk around and continue to do your shit while I go to class carrying the child and getting called a whore for opening my legs at a young age. So yes I am going to give it up because I'm too fucking young to have a child."

"Fuck them, you shouldn't give a fuck of what other people say about you. God knows I don't so neither should you."

I chuckled, "My parents sacrificed so much so they can send me here to study at the uni of my choice, I'm not messing it up because of our fuck up."

"So what our child is a fuck up now?" He was red with anger.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean it that way but if you loved me you would respect my decision."

"I love you (Y/n but I'm sorry, I don't agree with it. So whatever you're thinking of doing to our 'fuck up' you can do it alone." He left slamming the door loudly leaving me completely alone.

[End of flashback]

I sat up turning the tv on to have some sort of background noise. There was a knock at my door I groaned not wanting to see Maia or anyone at the moment. "Maia I'm okay, I just want to sleep."

The door was opened and a tall figure had walked in.

"Hey."

"Get out."

"I'm sorry."

"Get the fuck out." He didn't listen and instead kept coming closer. "Bill seriously get the fuck out."

"I need to talk to you."

I chuckled, "Well if it's to try and change my mind you can kindly fuck off cause the procedures done and so are we."

"I know it's done and I should've been there." I finally looked up at him his eyes sunken and red. "I'm sorry, I should have respected your decision because it's your body. I was just happy that we were gonna have a baby. I thought you wanted one."

"I did, I do, just not now. Not till I was settled." He nodded both our eyes brimming with tears. "Bill I need a break, a really long break. You fucked up and I-I don't know anymore. Look I'm 19 you're 26, I don't want kids till I'm like 30 or maybe never I don't know. And well with the way you reacted it's evident you want kids now. I knew this relationship wasn't gonna last."

"Hey, hey, I do want kids but I can wait. Just don't-don't leave, please." He took my hand in his but I quickly moved it away.

I sighed now full on crying, "I'm sorry Bill but this isn't gonna work out. You can find someone your age that you can settle down with now. I still have years before I'll even remotely be sure if I want kids. By then you'll be in your mid 30s, which is besides the point but what if I don't want kids what will you do then?" He shrugged his shoulders crying silently. "I love you Bill but we can't be together anymore."

He got up pressing a lingering kiss on my forehead, "I'm sorry."

***

3 years later

Today was finally moving day. I had finished my studies in New York and I was moving back down to LA. My parents were a bit against it since we had lived there years ago but they hated it there but I loved it. I was moving down by the beach areas. Maia was staying here with her fiancé.

"Well Ms. those are the last of your boxes." I handed the movers a decent tip and they went on their way.

I turned to Maia as she was already getting emotional, "Hey no crying, it's bad for the baby."

She chuckled pulling me in for a tight hug, "Hey me and Rosalie are gonna miss you."

I pulled away immediately in shock, "it's a girl?" She nodded causing me to shriek in excitement. Tyler came into the room and I jumped on him. "Congrats!"

"We were actually wondering if you would like to organize the baby shower for us." Tyler spoke.

"Yes of course!"

"We wanted to do it in 4 months. Closer to her due date."

"Once I get everything situated in LA I'll get things prepped and fly back here to organize everything!"

There was a honk outside of our house.

"Well guys I will see you in 4 months!" I hugged them both goodbye and grabbed my suitcase getting into the taxi.

***

2 weeks later

I was finally getting the finishing touches to my new house down. I still had a bit of work left but everything was mostly good to go. Now I currently sat in my living room going through a couple of designs for tomorrow's meeting. With the help of one of my close celebrity friends he got me a job with Leah Valderia a famous singer from London. She wanted help with her house and of course I said yes. This could be a great opportunity for my interior design career.

It was getting late and I decided to call it a night. I would show her the designs I had and maybe go shopping with her for some of the things.

The next morning I made sure to wake up early. I took a quick shower to calm my nerves. For my outfit I decided on a corduroy skirt that was a creamy chocolate color and a black turtle neck that fit perfectly. I also went with a dark grey oversized blazer that was just an inch longer than my skirt, for shoes I went with some heeled ankle boots. I did some light makeup and left my hair in its regular straight style. I added just some thin gold necklaces just to bring the whole outfit together. I looked at the time and grabbed my purse and work folders quickly heading out of my house. Before leaving the lot I sent a quick text to Leah letting her know I was on my way.

The traffic to her mansion was horrible to say the least. Luckily I made it on time, I parked my car on the curb and jogged to her door. "Great you're here, please come in!"

Looking around I could definitely see some potential for this beautiful home, "So Y/n I'm so excited you're here. I'm hoping you can bring my vision to life!" We took a seat in her office and she opened her laptop sliding it towards me. She had quite the vision. "I will sure try."

We were in her office for two hours, let's just say she is completely indecisive about what she wants to do with this place. So beautiful and so much potential only her vision was nothing like mine. "So we can definitely do what you want to do and we can also add some color maybe open up these curtains here as well just to get some light and more open space."

"Great! Let me show you the nursery so you can kind of get an idea of what we can with it. This baby will be here in 3 months need to have it done before anything else."

"What are you having?"

"A girl! I'm so excited, I hope one day you get to experience how beautiful it is to carry a life."

I smiled not really knowing what to say I just nodded, "Hey honey, I'm home, brought the- Y/n?"

"Bill?"

"You guys know each other?"

"We-"

"I-"

"We dated years ago."

"Oh?" Leah looked down. "Is she?" Bill only nodded.

"I'm sorry, I'm gonna go. I can send you an email of other designers if-"

Leah shook her head, "No I love your work, that's why I called in for you. This thing you and Bill had is in the past so I would still like to work with you if that's alright."

I nodded, "Well I'll email you some of the ideas I have then we can get started immediately. I'll be back in a week?"

"Perfect."

"Well I'll see you Leah, beautiful house you have here."

Bill set his things down, "I'll walk her out." Leah only nodded.

My car was only a block away but as we walked it felt like it was miles away. "Congratulations." I broke the silence.

"Thank you." He smiled.

"I told you, you would find someone to make you happy. Look at you, you're gonna have a baby."

"Yeah, I'm really happy, but I'm still really sorry about what happened between you and I. I'm sorry we didn't work out and I'm sorry I wasn't there when you needed me the most. I should have been there for you."

I sighed trying not to cry, "It was a bit traumatizing, having the procedure done is weird and horrible but it had to be done. I don't think I would've been happy if we went through with the pregnancy. I never want to be resentful towards a kid that wasn't at fault you know." He nodded. "I went to therapy after we broke up, got back on my feet and now I'm okay with it. I'm happy for you and happy that you're with someone that can give you the life you deserve."

He pulled me in for a hug giving me a kiss on the forehead, "I love you Bill Skarsgård."

"I love you too Y/n L/n and I wish you nothing but the best."

[littlemsstark3000]

Whatever It Takes

Avengers: Endgame - IronWidow fix

Something happened.

Tony knew it. He figured it out through the empty space beside him, the discarded pillows, his bare body under the sheets, and her scent mixed with the vodka which they shared.

Natasha was there. And she was gone before he woke up.

He shut his eyes again. Scenes from the previous night started replaying in his mind. They had more than enough liquor but they were not drunk, he was sure of that. He was aware of what was happening from the time he leaned dangerously closer towards her and planted a chaste kiss on the corner of her lips. If she tried to stop him, he would have backed off. She did not.

He groaned, mind blurred of what to do next.

Was he supposed to call or message her? Check where she was? Ask why she just left? Say he was sorry?

But he wasn't a bit sorry for what happened. He wanted it... since when, only heaven knew. The question was if she wanted it the same way, or she has regretted it the moment she woke up and realized what they have done.

Eight months ago, they lost to Thanos. He snapped and gone was 50% of the living, including the closest people to him and to her. Peter was dusted in his arms in Titan. Clint lost his whole family, which eventually led to Natasha losing her bestfriend in him also.

When Tony was rescued in space by Nebula and Captain Marvel, he returned to a very quiet compound. Natasha, Steve, Bruce and Thor were the only ones left there. Rhodey and Pepper came the soonest they got the word about his return. They arrived as he lay in the med bay with the only female Avenger left watching over him.

The reunion was a lull before the storm that was his confrontation with Steve. The pain, the betrayal, the anger he harbored in his chest for their Cap since Siberia made him snap, too. What remained of his belief that they could avenge for the earth when they could not protect it - dusted. That night, Natasha went to his room and apologized for the hurt that she also caused him. He has long forgiven and understood her, and he let her stay until he slept.

The next day, he learned that the team has traced Thanos and attacked him to retrieve the infinity stones, in high hopes that they could still revert what happened. They did not get them... not even one.

Days later, Tony got well and chose to move on, opting to live alone this time in a lakehouse far from the city. He worked for Stark Industries, his own company still managed by Pepper, remotely. He enjoyed a more private life.

Among the then-Avengers, it was only with Natasha that he communicated. Bruce and Thor disappeared to somewhere he did not mind knowing about. They needed to rest, too. Steve stayed behind but opted to lie-low from being a supersoldier. While she, keeping herself together, continued to do work and organized a new team which could look after what was left of the world. With much respect for her choice, he made it clear that even if they were already far from being teammates, he was just a stone throw away especially for her, always.

And it was because of that mutual understanding that Natasha knocked on his door last night and broke down after a few glasses. Both of them were still grieving for their losses, no matter how hard they hid it. Both of them were still looking for answers even if it looked like they have moved on. Both of them, at the back of their minds, were still hoping that they could bring everyone else back.

Vulnerable, they succumbed to the temporary aid which they could get from each other on his bed. It wasn't hurried, but every touch, every move, every moan was desperate to satisfy their need for comfort. Once was not enough. They gave in again. And again...

Tony cleared his head with a cold shower then decided to go to her at the compound. He did not know what to say; he just had to see her first.

Natasha sat on her work desk, going through whatever she was doing on her laptop, when he entered her office.

"Tash," he stood before her table.

"What's up, Stark?" She did not even look up to him.

It felt like a kick on his gut. "So we're back to surnames only. That's cool," he replied with pure sarcasm.

"If you're here to talk about what happened, you shouldn't have bothered."

"Why not?"

She chuckled. "We're two consenting adults. It's done and over."

He followed her with confused stare and rising irritation as she walked to the side table and made a sandwich.

"What the fuck did you just say?"

Natasha raised her eyebrows to him. "Why? Oh don't act too modest on me. That's the least I will expect, especially from you."

His fists balled inside his pockets, he filled his lungs with much-needed air. "I'm not here to say I am sorry for what happened because really, I am not."

"Then? Don't tell me you worry about me getting..." She paused but he got it. "You know that's impossible."

"Natasha -"

"I'm not gonna run after you because of what happened, Stark. It was just good sex."

His face heated up and his teeth clenched so tight that it already hurt - whichever hurt more, his jaw or his heart, he didn't care. Before he could do something he would regret more, he turned to leave immediately, shutting the door loudly behind him... missing to catch Natasha's rattled expression, trembling lips and teary eyes.

That was the last time they saw each other.

*****

Four years later, Natasha appeared at his doorstep again - this time, with Steve and Scott Lang, presenting a possible way to get back what they lost to Thanos.

Quantum realm. Time heist.

"The stones are in the past. We can go back. We can get them," Steve said.

"We can snap our own fingers. We can bring everybody back," she added.

"Or screw it up worse than he already has, right?" he quickly countered, eyes bore into green ones.

His two other guests tried to justify some more, but each argument, he had an answer to.

Finally, Natasha spoke again. "Tony, we have to take a stand."

Great, she just called him by his first name again, reminding him of the good relationship they shattered with one steamy night followed by a more heated encounter.

"We did stand. And yet, here we are," he couldn't help being straightforward.

She turned her head, looking away.

He sighed. "I wish you'd come here to ask me something else. Anything else."

Natasha never looked at him again until the three of them left. His chest tightened even if it was him who declined their proposal. He knew he hurt her by crushing her hope. But he was actually scared to try again and fail. There was a bit of probability that they might do it right but he could not risk, could he? It would be too painful, if they would be lucky to even live after, that is.

When he lied down that night, in the same room where they spent that one night together, Tony still could not rest his case. He remembered Peter. He remembered Clint's lovely family. He thought about Natasha... and how she would have looked happier if he said yes to their idea that afternoon.

Those thoughts and the tiny bit of probability pulled him up from his bed to his little workshop.

*****

He made it work and they did it. They, the Avengers, won this time around.

After they collected the infinity stones from the past, with Clint's inevitable sacrifice in Vormir, and despite the accident that brought Thanos and his troop to the present, they managed to pull through in the battle. Bruce as the Hulk snapped with the gauntlet that Tony made and the bad guys turned to dust.

They lost two heroes in one day... but the ones who have returned, together with the four Avengers left, swore to their gravestone that the earth, with their loved ones in it, would be protected again at all cost.

Steve went back to the past to return the stones in their respective places. But he did not come back. They should have figured it out when he said goodbye to Bucky and left his shield to Sam before he stepped into the time heist.

Thor, sober and with renewed determination after he has spoken with Almother, led the New Asgard with Valkyrie.

Tony and Natasha promised to keep the rest of their team together whatever it takes. But it had to start by fixing what was between the two of them...

Like the night of Tony's return from space five years ago, she went up to him. He was awakened by movement on the bed in his room in the compound. The next thing he realized, the redhead was snuggled up on him, her arms around his neck, hands clasped on his nape.

"Tash..." He called her name softly and kissed her hair.

"Thank you, Tony."

Natasha looked up to him, and as his eyes adjusted to the dim light, he caught her eyes shiny with tears.

"I don't and won't ever take full credit of our win, if that's what you are thankful for," he smiled as he wiped her eyes with his thumb.

She shook her head. "I thank you for trying one more time. It wasn't a simple decision, I know. You've left this life behind for a more peaceful one and moved on," she caressed his cheek. "Now you're back here with us."

Tony shifted their positions so he was half hovering comfortably over her.

"When I was trying to figure out how we could pull off that quote-unquote time heist, you know what was on my mind?"

"What?"

"Oh, it wasn't a what but a who," he tapped his point finger on the tip of her nose. "You."

"Tony..."

"I haven't said it yet but I really like it better when you call me by my first name."

She sighed. "I'm serious."

"Same here. So serious about you that I risked screwing up reality."

She fell silent as she just stared into his eyes.

"Guess that's another way of saying I love you, Natasha. I've always cared so much about you... Damn it, I can't even stay mad at you for 24 hours straight."

"I'm not good with words, Tony."

"Not a problem."

His hand trailed from her side to her hips to the small of her back and pulled her closer to him, the same time that Natasha lifted her face to meet his lips that instantly opened up to hers.

That one night long time ago was never enough. They gave in again. And again. And again.