#i think i may need to cut back on those pain meds

[eponastory]

Well, now that the Tylenol and other pain meds have kicked in, I want to talk about war.

Yeah, yeah, cut the crap Dai Li. Your lies are boring.

Many of you know that I have a thing for history. Well, I know for a fact that as long as man has walked this spherical (shut up flat earthers) rock floating in space, there has been some kind of conflict with one another. Over things like religion, politics, resources, women (looking at you, Troy), etc... it's a bloody business.

I'm going to give my grievances about Aang and his role in the war.

1. He really isn't there for all of it.

Remember, he ran away the night of the Air Nomad Genocide. That was the true start of the war. War is complex. You sometimes have more than one side playing a part, and then you have the antagonistic side. Aang did not have any part in the war for one hundred years. He was a child when it started, and he was still a child when it ended.

2. Growing up in war time is going to change your perspective.

Psychologically, trauma shapes a person into thinking a certain way. War is trauma. People who grow up in war time are shaped to either fight or flight. Since Aang was only there for the very end of the war, his separation from that war time trauma is there.

Think of it as witnessing 9/11/01. If you were alive to see it, then it really shaped you. It did for many people I grew up with, who did end up enlisting into the military to fight in the War On Terror. I was twelve years old, and I remember that day very well. It definitely made me see things a lot differently. Those who were born after that often joke around about 9/11 because they didn't witness it as it was happening.

It's an absence of understanding.

3. Aangs role in the war and how he is unprepared.

First off, when he is woken up, he has no idea what has really happened in the last hundred years. That's okay. Then he, as a child, has been put into this role of life or death, but he still acts like a child. I can understand that. It's anxiety and a whole bunch of other things he has to face in a world that moved on without him. He isn't irrelevant, but he missed a good deal, and now he has to live up to expectations.

So how does this affect relationships?

Oh, it does. It heavily impacts relationships. Which is why I'm going to get into this little debate here.

Aang is infatuated with Katara because she represents an outlet for his anxiety.

There, I said it!

That is also why this relationship is... not good. That and he doesn't seem to put her feelings into thought because she is a soothing mechanism. He relies on her for comfort and relief because, well, she is the Heart.

Remember what I said about Katara having to bury her feelings to take care of everyone else's BS? Yeah, that's what is going on here but in a much more selfish way. Aang can't let her go because she is his balm.

I cover this in my story by the way.

But yeah, let's say we stray away from Canon and Katara leaves him...

Yeah, he would likely lose his shit.

Just an opinion, but the way their relationship is set up is just... it screams that sort of dependency from Aang.

But this is because he missed the majority of the war and had to all of a sudden save the world... as a twelve year old. You know what my two younger brothers were doing at 12?

Playing with freaking Legos. (And still do to this day)

Legos.

Okay I'm ranting now, but this topic came up while I was working on my story.

You can ignore it. It's probably all over the place like my ADHD brain is right now.

Peace and ❤️

[raisin-writes]

one piece men hcs: period sex

featuring the blorbos of my choice- law, bartolomeo, bellamy, corazon, and doflamingo

warnings: blood (obviously), narsty boys (looking directly at barto), smut, period eating

nsfw under the cut, minors dni 🫵👁️👁️💢

Law:

• im sorry babe, he may be a doctor and he may not be squeamish about touching peoples organs and blood, but he will not go down on you on your period 😔 (coward).

• hes kinda weird about period sex, he'll do it if you ask him super sweetly and look at him with those big pathetic puppy eyes, and he'll sigh dramatically and agree to it, but he really doesnt like doing it on the bed, he prefers the bathroom where its easiest to clean.

• usually he's kind enough to finger fuck you when you ask for it, but hes quick to pull his hand out of your pants and run to the sink to wash his hands off before shooing you to bed with a peck on the forehead. hes a busy man, hes got work to do.

• when he does have time, though, he'll make sure to take proper care of you afterwards.

• he'll offer to bring you water, a snack, pain meds, a towel, a hot pack, hell he'll even carry you to the shower if your legs are too shaky to stand on and clean you off with a gentleness so rarely seen from a man like him.

Bartolomeo:

• NASTY BOY ALERT 🚨🚨🚨

• you dont even need to ask, he'll be able to smell a hint of blood from across the room and hunt you down like a shark.

• begs you to let him eat you out while on his knees, massaging and pawing at your thighs.

• "c'mon sweetheart, i just wanna help ya~"

• VERY enthusiastic eater, if he could stick his tongue up any further into you he would.

• likes when you sit on his face so he can feel the blood and cum dribble down the sides of his face.

• as he's fingering you, he'll suddenly pull his bloody hand up to his lips and suck the liquid off each digit before shoving them back inside you to do it again with a big cocky grin.

• hes fucking ravenous.

• fucks you like an animal and likes watching you coat his cock in red multiple times.

• truthfully, there might not be much blood left to leak out of you by the time hes done with you.

• dont worry, he'll make sure theres plenty of cum to leak out instead.

• hes super super sweet afterwards.

• "im so sorry, i didnt think i'd get so carried away there," he'll scratch the back of his head sheepishly.

• acts like a mother hen while he cleans you up so youre all nice and pretty again- hes usually pretty good about cleaning up after himself when it involves you.

• gets sad and confused when you vehemently refuse to give him a big wet kiss afterwards.

Bellamy:

• another nasty boy, but its more of a theatrical thing.

• hes fine with licking other peoples blood off his face, this isnt much different to him.

• he does play it up for you a bit (and the invisible audience in his head, he has to look cool for them always).

• makes a big show of lapping it up while locking eyes with you.

• the wide, wolfish grin on his face while his tongue swipes over the stray blood dripping off his lower lip makes you whine.

• he'll finger you whenever you ask even when you arent menstruating, it makes no difference to him, he just likes seeing you come undone on his hand.

• will let you dry hump his towel-covered thigh if hes too busy with something like a log or a paint manual (hes a study-at-the-last-possible-minute kinda guy).

• he'll fuck you however you need him to.

• want him to put you in a mating press and make you squirt all over his stomach?

• no problem.

• need something slow and tender like sitting in his lap while he gently rocks into you?

• he can do that too.

• hes a man that aims to please, and will almost never turn down the opportunity to stuff you full of himself.

• surprisingly decent at aftercare.

• he'll make sure youre mostly clean and get some water for you both before he stuffs you under his arm like a teddy bear to cuddle.

Corazon:

• hes surprised when you first ask to have sex with him on your period.

• he didnt think he would be very into it at first but the seemingly deeper intimacy of it...

• and the way youre so much more weak and pliant for him when youre like this... it does something to him.

• something clicks in him that hes gotta take care of you.

• only you.

• he's reluctant to eat you out, but he'll do it while looking up at you to make sure youre enjoying it.

• hes careful with foreplay and even more careful with the main event.

• the tenderness of the moment will probably make him cry, he feels so connected to you like this.

• doesnt even let himself savor his own release (if he even cums at all, your pleasure is so much more important in this moment) before he trips over himself to get you snacks and water and pain meds and anything he could possibly think to make you more comfortable.

• make sure to cuddle him tight and give him a big thank you kiss for all his hard work.

• he might cry again, hes just so full of love right now.

Doflamingo:

• on one hand, he thinks its kinda dirty and filthy.

• but on the other hand... hes kinda into the dirty and filthy aspect.

• he doesnt eat you out, but if you really beg him, he'll make his string clone do it while he holds you.

• even if its not the real doffy, his tongue alone makes you melt into a puddle on the mattress.

• as soon as you've cum enough for his liking, he'll shove the clone out of the way and get to work on stretching you open for himself.

• hes not very comforting, but he'll make sure youre more than satisfied so long as he gets satisfaction too.

• is decent enough to let you adjust to him but his patience does have a limit, so hurry up and relax for him already, hes got other things he needs to get done today.

• hes not as gentle as you want him to be, but he'll get you to the finish line even if you cant keep his pace.

• having you so sensitive and compliant for him like this makes him all the more cocky (unfortunately).

• heavy on the teasing dirty talk.

• "so weak and helpless for me, pet... what would you even do without me here to take care of you?"

• always makes you cum hard on his cock; if you squirt, all the better for his ego.

• he has to admit, something stirs in his gut when he sees your blood dripping out alongside his cum.

• not very hands-on with the aftercare portion; it truthfully wigs him out being that vulnerable, even if its you.

• he'll send a maid in to help you clean up with anything that you might need or ask for.

• what really surprises you is the pretty bouquet that comes in along with the other aftercare items.

• ...

• it doesnt happen very often, but he'll stay to cuddle with you for a little bit before the maid comes if you manage to grab him before he leaves- you dont even have to say anything for him to know what you want.

• he supposes he can indulge you sometimes.

[bloodykora]

Scrapped Knees

Hehe I just started writing and this came out. Hope yall enjoy, more stalker mc content.

MDNI this game is 18+ therefore so is my writing. TW: mentions of blood, and the normal yandere tropes TKATB List

'Hey so uh I may be a smidge late. I totally did not fall and scrape the fuck outta my knees. :)'

You hit send and wait, looking down to your legs that are now dripping with blood. The concrete making a perfect target. You glance back to the phone, those three familiar dots appearing as Sol quickly typed back.

'Oh wow, where? I'll just meet you there with some bandages. Don't hurt yourself further.' Your face pops into a huge grin while reading his text, you look around for a place to sit. Finding a curb where you could plant while you waited.

'I'm like.. a block and half down from the cafe. But I can meet you!' You text back, taking your bag off and setting your phone down. You pull your legs near your face, observing at the carnage when you hear your phone buzz again.

'No, stay. I'm coming.' You smile and shake your head a bit, giggling at how easy it was. Bait set and trap. Not very easy to fall just enough to only damage your knees, speaking of. Your gaze falls to them again, using your fingers to pry out the few rocks that had settled into the wound.

It wasn't long until the sound of steps echoed closer to you, relaxing your legs out instead of being scrunched up. You turn to look down the road, Sol speed walking with a plastic bag in one of his hands and his backpack slung over the other shoulder.

"Hehe hi, sorry about this." You sheepishly spoke as he approaches you, setting both of the bags he had down along with yours. He immediately kneels down to look at your legs, gently taking them into his hands. Heat of embarrassment building in your body as you watch his eyes.

"You need to be more careful." His tone darker then normal, flutters of butterflies in your chest as you hear his words. Need to be more careful, careful for him because he cares. He practically rips open the bag. Gauze and bandaids, cotton balls along with two bottles of water. Even some pain meds.

"Where did you get all that?" Turning your head to the side a bit in confusion as you eye all the supplies. He cracks a top of one of the bottles off, taking out a few cotton balls before pouring some water on them. Dabbing it to the scrapes.

"I ran to the little store down the road. They luckily had this stuff." Your smile grows wider at his words. "Sol thats so nice!" The words spill out before you can even think about them. A small blush now filling his cheeks as you reach out to hold his arm. Rubbing along his long sleeved shirt.

The stinging of the cuts barely being noticeable as he touches your skin. Sticking dried blood now being wiped up, the sound of the plastic bag crinkling when he throws a cotton ball out. It goes quiet as the sun begins to set, orange skies casting over the pair of you.

He begins to open the band aids, choosing which size would fit over your knees best. You admire him, taking in his hair, his face, his piercings, his black painted nails, the way his eyes fix into a stare as he begins to concentrate on something. He places two band aids on one knee, covering the now beginning to scab parts. He then begins to repeat with the other.

"When you're all done, are you gonna kiss my boo boos better?" You ask earnestly, his stare blanks for a second before a small smile appears on his face. "If you really want me to." His smile turns into a smirk at your face blanking, your ears burning. It quiets down again as he finishes patching you up, gentle with his touch.

"Do you want any pain killers?" He asks, finally looking back up to your face as you shyly shake your head no. He then keeps eye contact with you as he lofts your knee to his face, closing his eyes softly. Then pressing his lips to the bandage. Your hands fly up to your face, covering your face. Too embarrassed to even look at his face afterwards. A low chuckle hits your ears causing you to shake your head in reply.

"Uhh anyways!" You shout behind your hands, trying to change the topic. Peaking out as he tucks the extras into his bag. "Its gonna be dark soon now, how about I walk you home?" You remove your hands and agree, smiling as he puts his hand out for you to take to get up.

"Yeah! And we can finish up the assignment there too." He nods as you two start walking as the street lights begin to turn on around you.

[pink-sparkly-witch]

The One That Got Away - Chapter Nine

Warnings: flirting, nerves, a tiny bit of angst if you squint.

Word Count: 1.9k

Pairing: Firefighter!Dean Winchester x Female Reader

A/N: I didn’t have a beta for this, so all mistakes are mine.

You can catch up here!

 My Masterlist AO3    Ko-Fi

“Good morning, Captain. How is my favourite patient today?” Y/N said as she walked into Dean’s room.

“I bet you say that to everyone in here, sweetheart!” Dean chuckled, and she giggled in response.

“I’ll leave you to it,” Bobby smiled as he stood to leave the room and gave them privacy - he hoped to talk, but he knew that wouldn’t happen while Dean was still a patient. Something about not dating patients or some bullshit.

“Thanks, Bobby,” Dean said, and Bobby nodded with a wink.

“What’s the latest, nurse?” Dean smirked at her, thinking–not for the first time–how beautiful she looked in her purple scrubs.

“Well, everything looks great, and your pain is manageable with over-the-counter meds now, so doc’s gonna bust you outta here today,” Y/N’s heart melted a little at the smile that lit up his entire face, making all the wariness leave him. She swore he looked ten years younger without stress and pain wrinkling his brow.

“Are you serious, Y/N/N?” Dean asked, and she nodded in amusement. “Well, Princess, that has got to be the best news I’ve had all week!”

“I’ll be glad to see you discharged,” she smiled softly as he tilted his head in hurt confusion. “It means you’ve healed, Dean. It means I’ve done my job, and you get to go home,” she giggled again as that bright smile broke out across his features.

“Have dinner with me?” Dean blurted out, and she bit her lip shyly.

“You’re supposed to be resting and taking it easy, De. You may be getting out of here, but your ribs still haven’t fully healed yet,” she tried to talk sense, but her resolve was failing the bigger his smirk got. That damn smirk would make her commit murder if he asked her.

“Well, the way I see it… I gotta eat… you gotta eat… why not eat together?”

“Dean…”

“Come on, Princess,” he said, and she swore if he brought out those damn puppy dog eyes… “I’m hardly able to cook you a three-course meal,” he chuckled as he gestured to himself. “But we do need to talk, and I’d like to do that sooner rather than later.

“I’ll order pizza from Gino’s and write down my address and phone number. Open invitation. Come if you want, or don’t. We need to talk, though, so if it’s not tonight, name the time and place, and I’ll be there.” Dean’s eyes were pleading with her, but before she could respond, there was a knock at the door, and he sighed in annoyance.

“Captain Winchester,” Dr Clark greeted cheerfully. “What do ya say we get you out of here today?”

“That’d be awesome, Doc,” Dean responded with a smile, but Y/N noticed it’d lost some of its happiness.

His eyes never left her as the doctor gave Dean her instructions for him to take it easy for another few weeks, and Y/N felt all her resolve disappear. 

“Alright, that’s everything from me. I’ll leave you in Nurse Singer’s capable hands. Take care of yourself, and take it easy for a few more weeks,” Dr Clark said as she handed Y/N his discharge papers and pain meds.

“Thanks, Doc,” Dean smiled tightly, and the doctor nodded and excused herself.

“Y/N-” he began to speak as soon as the door closed, but she cut him off before he could finish.

“Yes,” she grinned.

“Yes?” Dean repeated in shock.

“Yes. I’ll come over for dinner,” Y/N explained, and Dean didn’t think he could smile bigger. “On one condition.”

“Name it, Princess,” he answered immediately.

“I’ll cook for us,” Y/N insisted.

“No, I can’t ask you to do that,” he argued.

“Okay, first, you’re not asking. I’m offering. And second, you’ve been eating shitty hospital food for a week. You need a proper meal, De. I get off at four today. I’ll head home, get changed, go to the store, and then come over. Good?” The tone in her voice left Dean absolutely no room to argue back.

“Good. Looking forward to it,” Dean winked, and she smirked back at him.

“I’ll take this to the pharmacy and put your papers at the desk. Do you need some help getting dressed, or will you manage on your own?”

“You offering, sweetheart?” he smirked, pumping his eyebrows suggestively and laughing when she rolled her eyes at him.

“I’ll call Ash in to help if you don’t behave!” she laughed loudly at Dean’s mock look of horror.

“Thought so, handsome!” she winked as she turned to leave the room.

Y/N’s shift was finally over; this was the first time since starting here that she was grateful to finish on time. It seemed to be an unwritten rule at Memorial for the nurses to come in a half hour early for a full handover of patients and to take over any emergencies for those about to finish to get home on time.

She also noticed how everyone was happy to cover for everyone else; Jess came in early one day last week to allow Missouri Moseley time to go home and get ready for her son’s birthday party. Not to mention, Kevin Tran had stayed on for two hours this morning, allowing Jess to take her time at her antenatal appointment.

Seeing a family dynamic amongst the nursing staff with no hint of tit-for-tat attached to favours was refreshing. What surprised Y/N most was that no one noted what hours they covered and for whom. If this were Chicago, a whiteboard in the nurse’s break room would be filled with I.O.U notes.

Once she got home, she went straight for a shower, beyond grateful Jody had allowed her to replace and decorate however she wanted. Her nerves about going to talk to Dean had made her more nervous than she’d ever been, to the point that the tension in her shoulders was bringing her pain. Boy, did she need the pressure from the power shower she’d installed beating down on her right now!

Dressing in dark jeans, a white shirt and brown ankle boots, Y/N blow-dried her hair and tossed it into a messy bun. She scolded herself for thinking far too long about how much makeup to put on. When she was working, it was easier and much more practical to be bare-faced, but this was… well, she wasn’t sure what this was and finally settled on a light coat of foundation and some mascara.

She’d been on edge all day, and her emotions were everywhere. The scenarios of how tonight would go had been running through her mind since telling Dean she’d come over for tonight. Could they be friends? Could they try to be together again? Did he even want her to stay? Fuck, did he want anything with her?

Sure, he’d flirted with her in the hospital, but it was Dean fucking Winchester. He flirted with everyone with breasts, so that wasn’t anything to go on. Y/N knew she would have to play her cards close to her chest until she could figure out what was going on in his mind about her being back.

Checking her reflection for the last time, Y/N grabbed her purse, checked that she had everything she’d need for the evening and threw on her jacket. She left the apartment and quickly locked up before the doubts could creep in further, and she just called this whole thing off.

Pulling up next to the curb, Y/N couldn’t help her wide smile seeing the Impala parked in the driveway. John always promised to hand it over to Dean on his eighteenth birthday, and she desperately wished she could’ve been there to see it.

Killing the engine, she took a few deep breaths to calm her frazzled nerves and steady her composure. Once she felt more centred, she threw her purse over her shoulder and exited the car. Opening the trunk, she grabbed the groceries, and after one final deep breath, she walked up the path.

It was a beautiful house and looked to have at least three bedrooms on the second floor. The white picket fence looked freshly painted, and the lawn was neatly mown. She saw wicker furniture and a swing on the well-maintained porch. She thought the only thing that could make Dean’s house more inviting would be some colourful plants and flowers or some window boxes.

Y/N rang the doorbell and stepped back, turning around to take in the neighbourhood. Dean had done well for himself settling here. It was the kind of place he used to tell her about–his dream home–and that made her happier than she’d been in a long time.

“Hey,” Dean’s voice broke her from her thoughts, and she spun on her heel to face him, a content smile still gracing her face.

“Sorry, I was just admiring the neighbourhood,” Y/N explained with a chuckle. “Seems like a nice place.”

“Yeah, it’s great here,” Dean said as he moved away from the doorway, gesturing for her to enter. “It’s close to the station, Sammy and Jess live two blocks away, Benny three, and it’s not too close for unannounced visits from my parents!” Dean grinned at her laugh. “Are you settling into Jody’s place?” he asked.

“Uh, yeah. It took a while to get used to it because it’s so much quieter than I’m used to,” Y/N laughed. “My first night back in town, I stayed at Uncle Bobby and Jody’s place. I didn’t sleep at all because it was silent!”

“Really?” Dean chuckled, his eyebrows raising comically.

“Really!” she laughed. “My apartment in Chicago was downtown. The all-night traffic, sirens and drunken college students were like a lullaby to me! To be out in the middle of nowhere without even a ticking clock was a little bit unnerving!” she said as she followed him through to the kitchen and placed the bag of groceries down on the counter.

“Here, let me take your jacket,” Dean said.

“No, it’s fine. I don’t want you to over-exert yourself. I just got you out of the hospital. I’ll be damned if you end up back in ‘cause of me,” Y/N said as she put her purse next to the groceries, shrugged her jacket off, and hung it over one of his dining chairs.

“Now, sit,” she commanded, and he smirked over at her.

“Still bossy, I see,” Dean chuckled as he sat on a breakfast stool. Y/N smirked but chose to ignore him as she washed her hands.

“How are you feeling?” Y/N asked, turning back towards him, her soft gaze trained on his, clearly showing her concern.

“I’m fine, Y/N,” Dean replied honestly. “I still have some pain, but I can’t tell you how happy I am to be home. I’m looking forward to tonight in my own bed.”

“Good,” she nodded as she emptied the groceries from the brown paper bag. “I was thinking of what I could make that would be both nutritious and delicious, so I decided on beef stir-fry.”

“That sounds amazing,” he smiled.

“I only have two questions,” she said as she put both hands into the bag. “Do you want rice or noodles?” Y/N pulled a pack of each from out and held them up.

“Noodles!” Dean answered with a grin.

“Alright, and…” she dug into the bag with both hands again. “Apple or cherry?” Y/N grinned, holding out two pies for him to choose from. Dean’s boyish grin now made his eyes sparkle with happiness.

“Definitely cherry!”

Next Chapter >>

Tag list: @deans-baby-momma @deans-spinster-witch @leigh70 @stoneyggirl2 @hobby27 @candy-coated-misery0731 @iprobablyshipit91 @twinkleinadiamondsky @mrsjenniferwinchester @spnwoman @snackles87 @perpetualabsurdity @hoboal87 @synmorite @nancymcl @trannydean @nic-kolas @jc-winchester @winchestergirl1720 @globetrotter28 @nelachu2423 @kayleighmeister @venicesem @ladysparkles78 @roseblue373 @suckitands33 @tristanrosspada-ackles @silentbutscreaming @lacilou @sandlee44 @kmc1989 @chriszgirl92 @ashbatz @k-slla @jamerlynn @waters-2567 @kazsrm67

[kairiscorner]

Your writings are so great and capturés the captures so well!! I have a request based off from your previous req fandic of Noir x criminal!reader. (I LOVE THAT SO MUCH AA) can you write where the crimimal!reader gets badly injured and Noir takes cares of them, gets mad and scold them for being so reckless then starts to beg them to quit the criminal life cus he wants them to be safe? It can be a hurt/comfort type of thing

HIIII OMG I'M SO HAPPY TO HEAR THAT??? and ofc anon babe, i gotchu >:)) imma consider this a part 2 for the noir x criminal reader :DD

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

content warnings! mentions of bleeding, open flesh wounds, mentions of guns and firing of guns, and light cursing up ahead. please don't read any further beyond the cut if you are uncomfortable with these themes ^^

"when is this ever going to be enough for you?"

his voice was stern, though extremely exhausted. he was finishing sewing up the wounds you sustained earlier when he found you. he had a long day fighting crooks, and to top it all off, you were there. you were there, and you got hurt, badly. he knew he didn't need to help you, you knew he could've knocked you out and threw you to the curb to wait for the cops to take care of after a few hours--but he did. he carried you in his arms gently, said sorry when you moaned out in pain as he felt over a flesh wound on your side which was generously given to you by one of your 'allies' as they screwed up shooting a guard and had the bullet ricochet and lodge itself into your side.

you felt dizzy a while ago due to how much blood you were losing, but luckily, peter found you and brought you to a rooftop where hardly anyone frequented and patched you up with a stray med kit he found at a nearby clinic. he was a little scrappy at it, and you had to teach him how to do it since you were used to getting scuffed up on this crappy job. you winced and breathed in sharply through your teeth as he took the bullets out, applied the ointment, and sewed up the open flesh wounds you got. you told him exactly just how painful it was, it was a stinging pain that you wished would go away as you told him to take it easy, but he refused to give you that luxury--a pass on the pain you deserved for thinking you would be able to live a carefree life after trying to continue this life of crime.

"what do i have to do to change your mind?" he asked you after you hurled insults and curse words at him while he patched you up and finished. "change my mind? with what?" you asked a little sarcastically, knowing that peter would get angry like he did last time, which you found... a little attractive. peter sighed as he looked up at you unmasked; he was dashing as always; looking soft and harmless, but you knew he was anything but those things, in reality. "you know what i mean." he said as he got up and looked down at the alley he found you and a few other members of your little ensemble down there, injured. you breathed out a sigh as well as you looked up at his back that was now facing you. "i would if i could, parker. you can say you know how shitty this world is, and yet you don't seem to realize why i do what i do." you said with an ironic chuckle, a chuckle at how depressing your situation had become.

"and you don't seem to realize that i do everything i can to help you." he chimed in as soon as you stopped talking. he turned to face you, no longer having any anger in his eyes, instead pure sympathy and care filled his frame as he brought his shoulders down and faced you like you were no criminal, no evil doer, no sinner--a human, just like him, who struggled to survive. "i'm more than willing... more than willing to wire you money. aunt may's told me to give more than i can receive, and you're always the first person i think of every waking hour. connect the dots, why don't you?" he asked you to do with a cracking voice as he sat down next to you, taking off his glasses to wipe the tears forming in his eyes.

"i'd give you the world, a whole new one, if you wanted." he said as he met your gaze, staring into his own with a look of perplexity and just a tad bit of guilt and shame. he gently took your hand in his own gloved one and sighed. "even if this world hates you for what you've become... i'd protect and love you anyway." he muttered, which made your eyes go wide, and your mind run a mile a minute at what he said. you opened your mouth to speak, but when no words--no sound, no peep, no squeak, no nothing--came out, you closed it again, and found yourself merely staring at him, fazed entirely by those six words he uttered.

"please... don't do this anymore. it kills me every... every time you..." he muttered, unable to continue his thoughts as he took your hands in his own and clenched them, sobbing, begging for you to give up this dangerous life and just... let him in, let him help you.

a/n: gonna end this here, sorry :' )) but i want it to be up to you guys where this goes ^^

tags !! @thecoolerdor @miguelswifey04 @sabcandoit @binibinileonara @k4tsu3 @maxoloqy @luvstarrstruck @connors-cumslurper

[honeygrahambitch]

hi :) I loved your self-indulgent hannigram fic!! if you’re still taking suggestions, I’d love to see what you do with 13! or if 13 isn’t working for you maybe 2/11/14/25/honestly any of them haha :)

I loved this one and I will certainly look into doing the other numbers too! They would be perfect for them! :D Enjoy

*

It had never been in Hannibal��s habit to express his pain in front of the others. No matter if it was physical or psychical. He would keep his poker face on and by the end of the day he would pour himself a glass of wine or something stronger if it was the case. He would take meds only if he wouldn’t be able to handle the level of pain, but those were rare cases.

It was such a day when Jack Crawford had asked him to help with a profile. His head was exploding thanks to a migraine which had started earlier in that day. The pain was so bad that he could feel his temples burst and his vision getting foggy. However, he had left his painkillers at home. The migraine was affecting his thinking and feeling vulnerable annoyed him.

Jack kept talking to him and to Will but his words travelled past Hannibal’s ears. He hoped Will was at least paying attention. He had tried too as well but it felt like every effort brought him closer to a black out.

“What do you think, Dr. Lecter?”

Hannibal’s thoughts were far away, fighting the pain. So far away that keeping his eyes open was a challenge as well.

“Dr. Lecter?” Jack asked again.

“My apologies, Jack, I must have zoned out.”

It was not in his nature to do that. And that was exactly the reason he was not asking for meds. It wasn’t in his nature to feel pain. To need help. He was sharp and cunning and intelligent. And this migraine was sabotaging his whole personality.

The discussion went on and he agreed with Will’s perspective on the case. Afterwards, Jack let them both leave.

“May I offer you an aspirin? Or an ibuprofen?” Will suggested as they left Jack’s office.

“No, that won’t be necessary.” He replied and forced himself to smile.

“I have never seen you so under-weather.”

Of course Will would see right through him. Right through his walls and deep into his soul.

“For once I do not listen to what Jack says and you suddenly think that something is wrong with me, Will?”

“I just have a feeling. You seem just a little bit off.” Will insisted as they got into the parking lot., a bit amused that he was annoying Hannibal.

“Lack of sleep is one’s greatest enemy.”

“And it comes hand in hand with migraines.” Will said shortly and held the door to the passenger’s seat open for Hannibal. “I will drive you home.”

He sighed but didn’t protest anymore and got in. He wouldn’t be able to convince Will. He was reading him too well. And he had to admit to himself that he was not in the best state for driving.

Closing his eyes felt like a blessing. His temples relaxed slightly. He allowed himself to rest for just a bit while Will would drive him home.

Hannibal woke up almost two hours later, his head resting against the door of the car. Will’s jacket was covering him. Outside it was dark and he had not realized he had fallen asleep.

“I am glad you got to sleep for a bit.” Will said as his concerned gaze fell on him.

“You should have woken me up.” Hannibal said as he realized the car was parked in front of his house. “Have you been waiting for me to wake up all this time?”

“Yes. Your sleep was so deep that I figured you were feeling like shit. Here.” He said as he offered Hannibal a painkiller. His migraine was less bad than before but he accepted it.

“It’s certainly not usual for me-” Hannibal started, trying to save his appearance, but Will cut him off.

“Shh, I know. But you seriously need to rest. Postpone any murder you have to commit tonight and get some good sleep.” He said as their eyes met. “For me at least.”

“I suppose I could do that.” Hannibal replied as he caressed Will’s cheek with the back of his hand. "For you."

[jaimistoryteller]

Why Help is Needed 2.0

Hiya All

I hope you are all well. The vast majority of this will be under a read more simply cause it is long and covers the last few years for those who don’t know me and may wonder why I am in need of help so bloody often.

I want you all to know I appreciate all of it, whether it is share, donating, buying one of my books, commissions, or any other way it may be. Thank you all.

Jaimi

$0/902

as of 12/27/2022 10 pm

Post info on current situation

Share this post; my venmo, paypal, or cash app with a note about how it can help.

Paypal: cosmosbusinessventures@gmail .com or Paypal Me

Ko-Fi

venmo @JaimiST

Cash app $jaimist

GoFundMe: Help Jaimi Catch Up the Bills & Fix the Roof

Why 2.0? Cause half asleep me managed to delete it again. So gotta rebuild again.

Redo Timeline since I sort of deleted it, again, while half asleep. really shouldn't try cleaning my tumblr up while half asleep.

Still need to finish, but here’s a starting point!

Current Situation

Hiya All

Happy winter holidays or season, as you prefer.

It's been a long month between:

internet outages cause of snow storms

being trapped in the house cause a blizzard

sleeping more than I care to admit cause of a sinus infection, pain, and migraines [though I sometimes think it was just one long one with times it started to fade before something triggered it once more]

9 hour trip to hospital cause dad coughed so much it made his throat swell and caused breathing issues

vet appointments

doctors appointments

food stamps getting cut back for a few really stupid reasons

having to argue with the insurance multiple times

So, with all that being said, between mine and dad's account, we're $902 in the hole. While I am not as worried about his, he'll get his VA pension, I am worried about mine, as it came from getting meds, getting food, and paying a few bills. I need to get them out of the hole before the next round of bills, meds, and food is needs.

Any and all help would be appreciated! Thank you for taking the time to read this.

$0/902

Money Needed History

6/16/2022 - $721

6/1/2022 - $656 [got $144 of that]

6/25/2022 - $540 electric

7/14/2022 3 pm - $36/480

8/4/2022 - $472

8/31/2022 - $1147

9/6/2022 - $50 of 1147

9/22/2022 - $1796 

10/1/2022 - $1181

11/15/2022 - $981 of which $750 was thankfully covered

12/17/2022 - $232

12/27/2022 - $902 

House Stuff Needed

I may hate amazon, but right now I’ll deal with them if anyone wants to send stuff from the list:

Stressful Times Needs & Wish List

The list has two parts, or three, depending on how you look at it, as the first and second can technically be merged.

1. Necessities

Happybuy PEX Tubing Pipe 2 Rolls of 1/2 Inch X 100 Feet PEX Tubing

Gerber Plumbing Tub & Shower Set Three Handle Chrome

SharkBite 1/2 Inch Ball Valve, Push to Connect Brass Plumbing Fitting, Water Shut Off

Thomas & Betts B120AUPC 1G 20 CU in Zip Box W/N (Pack of 100) WIRE 12/3 NMWG 250' REEL

SOUTHWIRE COMPANY #28827455 250' 14/2 W/G NM Cable

14/2 UF-B Wire, Underground Feeder and Direct Earth Burial Cable (100ft)

I recently had to replace two of my three breaker boxes, which set me behind on bills. Why? Cause they had breakers melted and shorting, some that would be in the off position but still have power going through them, others that would say they were on and not have power. But the one melted to the breaker box? That was the really terrifying one. So I need to replace the wiring, as I discovered a lot of my wiring is 30+ years old. There are sections of my house without power. Hence the reason any help there is wonderful. 

Why not go to DHS and get an electrician to help? A couple of reasons - there is a lifetime limit on how much they will help with a house if you ain’t dying. I’d be expected to pay at least half, which cost more than me getting the stuff and doing it myself. Not a fan of strangers in my house and would be worrying my service dog [and probably them since Winston is a rottie] the entire time.

The other section of the necessities list is for plumbing stuff. My pipes are a disaster, I have exactly one working sink in the house, the kitchen sink. To turn my tub/shower on/off I have to go in Dad’s room and use the access panel on/off valves since the handles don’t actually turn off, and when I was going to take them apart to see if replacing the washer would do the trick, the wall started crumbling, so I was unable to actually do so.

2. Would be Nice

Highcraft ID234x50 Half Clamp J-Hook with Nail For Pex Tubing Pipe Support, 1/2 in, Black

Owens Corning "EcoTouch" PINK FIBERGLAS Insulation for Attic 15"x25', Unfaced

Pink Insulation Foam 1/2" Thick (6 sq ft)

(30) 1/2" Brass PEX Fittings 10 Each Elbow TEE Coupler Reducer Lead Free Crimp Cinch PEX GUY

Sterilite ClearView 3 Storage Drawer Organizer

Harris Diatomaceous Earth Food Grade, 5lb

Each would make my life easier in some way while I am working on things or to lower the bills long term.

3. Things to Help with Relaxing and Dealing with Stress

Derwent Colored Pencils, Drawing, Art, Metal Tin, Metallic, 12 Count (2305599)    

Black Widow Skin Tone Colored Pencils for Adult Coloring - Color Pencils for Portraits and Skintone Artists

Fuck This Shit: A Motivational Swear Word Coloring Book

You Fucking Got This : Motivational Swear Words Coloring Book

Butts, Bleps, and Beans Cat Coloring Book

Adult Coloring Book : 60 Stress Relieving Animals Designs

Mindfulness Coloring Book For Adults: Zen Coloring Book For Mindful People

Mandala Art

Mindfulness Coloring Book for Teens

Xyron Create-a-Sticker, 5", Sticker Maker, Machine, Permanent Adhesive

Markin Arts Stretched Canvas 8x10" 10 Pack Blank Canvas Board 

I try to spend a little bit of time every day coloring, partially cause my therapist suggested it after I mentioned it can be soothing, and partly because it gives me some time not looking at a computer screen and still relaxing.

Last but not least on the list is the Lowe's Gift Cards, they make it easy for me to go buy the supplies needed for the project I am most focused on or would be easiest. Considering my list doesn’t include any of the wood, screws,

History & Timeline

There is a lot of things that have happened to cause a large part of this current situation. This list has some but not all of the event that have happened in the last few years. If I covered all of it, we’d be here forever it feels like.

2009 July 7th - car accident that started my life downwards, I was passenger, had my ankle smashed requiring surgery. The reason I now have nerve damage.

2011 - had to have the metal that rebuilt my ankle removed as I developed an allergy to it after one of the screws shifted out of position, damaging a tendon and nerve as it did so. 

2012 December - stopped working full time, as I kept ending up in the hospital from simple injuries that could have been avoided if not always pushing through the pain. My right leg likes giving out cause the nerve damage.

2013 January to current - filed for disability, still fighting for it.

2018 February - my seventh concussion, screwed up my ability to use the computer or other digital devices for a long while.

2022 April 1 to June 14 - nine trips to the hospital, totaling 21 days in total, plus another 11 days dedicated to doctors visits. When not going back and forth to the doctors/hospitals was dealing with pain and sleeping a lot.

2022 June 18 to 21 - several days with migraine and migraine aura

2022 July - lots of storming, when not storming working on roof or sleeping off pain. 

2022 August & September - seven hospital trips, including one over night, and nine doctors appointments later, means I spent a lot of time exhausted when not working on finishing my damned roof up so it would not leak in the house. Two cats I hand nursed passed away as well, which was emotionally painful.

2022 October to November 14 - so much shit: doctor appointments, emergency vet appointment, dealing with migraines, power outage

2022 November 15 to December 10 - more migraines and pain, finally ended up at the clinic, had a major sinus infection, got put on antibiotics which knocked me out for the next week

2022 December 18 - spent my legal day at the hospital with dad after he coughed so much his throat started closing up. 

2022 December - that blizzard was fun

Proofs

[ID: screenshot of dad’s checking account -$571.83, my checking account -$211.90, and my savings -$119]

[ID: screenshot of my paypal $0]

[southsideserendipity]

Pregnancy Scare (Kelly Severide x Reader)

Synopsis: You start to feel sick on the way back from an ambulance call, and Dawson wonders whether you may be pregnant.

Warnings: Mentions of throw up, coarse language.

Word Count: 3.3k

Everyone had just gotten back from a call, and you were all exhausted to say the least.

It was one of those days at the firehouse where it was dispatch after dispatch. You couldn’t help but feel a little light-headed upon return to 51. You reversed the ambo into the apparatus bay and put it in park. Opening the door to step out, you practically stumbled to your feet.

Squad and truck had gotten back before you - given the fact that you had to drop a patient off at med - so luckily no one was there to witness your drunken-like wobble. Especially your overprotective boyfriend, Kelly Severide, who is ready to call a med e-vac when you get a paper cut.

You place both of your palms up on the side of the ambo, locking your elbows for support. Feeling faint, you decided to take some slow, deep breaths in an attempt to make yourself feel better.

You thought Gabby was in the back of the ambo, taking inventory, but you hear her voice come from right next to you.

“Y/N…? Are you ‘kay?”

This startled you as you hadn’t noticed her presence right next to you, and also because you didn’t want to attract any attention to your sudden ailment.

“Yeah Gabs, I think I’m just dehydrated honestly. I’m gonna go grab a drink” you said, brushing off her concern and undermining how you were truly feeling.

“I don’t know, Y/N” she crossed her arms, leaning her side against the ambo. “You don’t look so good” she said with a concerned look on her face.

“Aw, that’s so nice of you Dawson” you joked back in response, shooting her a sarcastic fake-smile. You decided to opt against telling the truth and to instead use your poor humour skills to distract her from your ghastly complexion.

“Cmon, you know that’s not what I meant Y/N. You better be telling me the truth” Gabby raised one eyebrow, as if it helped her get a better read of your poker face.

“I’m good I prom-” you were interrupted mid-sentence by the sudden urge to gag, and you began dry-heaving.

“Y/N!” Gabby rushed over to you and began rubbing your back. “Either you get in the ambulance and let me check you out, or I tell Severide.”

You looked up at her with an annoyed but thankful glance, given that she fought through your painful stubbornness to make sure you were okay.

Gabby led you into the ambulance and encouraged you to sit down on the gurney. She closed the doors behind her, and got right to work.

“I’m hooking you up to an IV.” She said, grabbing a saline bag.

“Yeah, I’d like to exercise my right to refuse treatment” you joked, earning a glaring Gabby who stopped what she was doing in order to fully display the annoyed look on her face.

“The quicker we get this done, the quicker you get out of here and the better chance we have that no one realizes we’re missing. She argued, searching for a vein in your arm.

You sighed in agreement, knowing there was no way you were going to get out of Dawson’s care.

When you felt your stomach rumble and another wave of nausea hit you, you knew the inevitable was going to happen.

“Gabby, I’m going to throw up” you stated matter o’factly, while looking at her with a startled expression. You motioned for the garbage can and she quickly handed it over to you. Had she done so 1 second later, you would’ve thrown up all over yourself.

“Now you definitely don’t look good” your best-friend said, trying to make light of the situation but still being in paramedic mode. You grumbled in response, refusing to admit you weren’t okay.

Once you were done, you set the can aside and laid back down, contemplating why you were feeling this way.

“I’m good now, I swear. Lunch just didn’t sit right with me. That’s the last time I eat food that Cruz has cooked.” You took the IV needle out of your arm, deeming that you didn’t need it, and began to exit the back of the ambo.

Dawson didn’t stop you this time. “I’m going to write in my chart here that the patient was unco-operative, and threw up in my ambulance” Dawson said, shrugging to herself.

You peeked your head in between the ambo doors before walking away, and said “this never happened.” Dawson looked at you with a disappointed look, but accepted the situation knowing that being caught could lead to ambo getting taken out of service, and - even worse - Y/N’s lieutenant boyfriend sending her home.

“Grab something to drink!!!” Gabby shouted after you. She couldn’t see you, but you simultaneously nodded your head and smiled to yourself, grateful to have a caring person like her in your life.

Walking into the lounge and towards the fridge, you noticed everyone was eating dinner.

“Hey Y/N. We ordered out tonight to treat ourselves for the long day, come grab a bite” Cruz said with excitement, opening up the pizza box and wafting the smell towards you. “Take a seat!”

You could never say no to pizza, but at this particular time, the scent you caught made the bile in your stomach rise once again.

“I’m not hungry right now, guys, but I’ll eat soon, I promise.” Cruz looked at you like you had 5 heads, knowing you could probably eat more slices than him if it came down to it, but he just shrugged it off. When you reached the fridge you opted for gatorade, knowing the electrolytes would help.

As you closed the fridge door, the room began to spin. You tried to speed walk to your bed to rest, but the change in pace made you feel even worse. Before you know it, you collapsed onto the floor.

———————————————————————

“Y/N?????” You woke up to multiple heads staring down at you from above, all with concerned looks on their faces. Once you regained vision, you made out the figures to be Cruz, Hermann, Mouch, Brett, and Otis. “Grab her some water!” Brett slapped Otis across the chest - concern evident in her voice - and he scrambled to the fridge.

“I’m fine everyone. I’m just dehydrated, I swear.” You lazily attempted to stand up, your body void of energy, but were pushed back down by everyone. “No no no, you sit your tush right where you are missy” said Hermann who was standing opposite of you.

You groaned in frustration, grateful that your family at 51 was worried about you, but hating that you attracted attention towards yourself.

“She’s over here” you heard distantly, eventually making out the voice to be Capp. He was directing Severide to you, and you assumed he grabbed him from his office.

“Y/N? What happened??” Severide rushed right over to you, kneeling next to you and checking you out for any injuries.

“I passed out but I swear I’m okay, I just gave myself whiplash because of how fast I was racing to my bed. I’m good I swear.”

“What the hell happened?” Dawson said as she stepped into the room and saw you lying down. “You told me you were okay, Y/N!!”

“You knew about this?” Severide snapped his head towards her, wondering why he wasn’t notified that the love of his life wasn’t feeling well, and upset that he didn’t help sooner.

Dawson replied, “She didn’t want me to tell anyone!”

“And Dawson, you are an excellent paramedic for that. You respected patient confidentiality, which I suggest the rest of you should do. For the last time, I’m fine!” you grumbled to everyone, feeling as though you were being babied by your team.

You swung your legs off of the couch, and stood up. Making your way to bed, you took the cup of water out of Otis’ hand, and disappeared into quarters. Everyone looked at each other with confusion at your sudden emotional outburst, given that it was out of character for you.

Severide was on his way to check up on you, when the alarm sounded once again.

You grumbled as you got up for what felt like the hundredth call that day, and began to walk towards the ambo.

“You gonna be okay?” Severide asked as he put on his overalls, watching you step into the ambo. “Yes, I promise” you responded, sending him a soft smile.

———————————————————————

On the way back to the firehouse, you felt Dawson’s eyes burning a hole into you.

You glanced over and looked between her and the road a couple of times before asking “Do I have something on my face?”

You looked at the rear view mirror and began fixing your fly aways, and inspecting your makeup- trying to make your actions theatrical to follow up with your sarcastic comment.

“Are you late?”

You snapped your head over to her, eyes popping out of your head, baffled that she would ask you such a (reasonable) question.

“What? My period you mean?” She slowly nodded, apprehension evident in her body language.

“No Gabby, I’m not. At least I don’t think I am.”

Her eyes remained glued on you, not believing your plead.

“Have your nipples changed colour? That’s supposed to be the first sign.” She said confidently and almost proudly, gleaming at this newfound possibility that you could be carrying.

“I’m not sure Gab, you want me to pull them out for you and the citizens of Chicago so you can check the colour of my areoles?” You said as you laughed. You took turns switching between focusing on the road, and being bewildered that you were having this conversation.

“Let me check your app” she placed her palm out towards you, waiting for you to pull out your phone and plant it in her hand.

“You can’t be serious right now. I’m not late, I swear! See for yourself.” You lifted up your buttcheek and took your phone out from underneath you, handing it over in surrender.

“Flo says otherwise, Y/N.” You looked over in disbelief.

“How late?” you asked with a mix of hesitation and eagerness. “6 days” she responded, not sure what response it would elicit from you. Meanwhile, the pit - or baby - in your stomach was growing.

“Have you and Severide been, y’know, wrapping ‘er up” she asked with a questioning tone, whispering the last 3 words for comedic effect to make the conversation less serious.

“Yes! I mean, maybe. Well, sometimes. I don’t know Gab, we fuck like rabbits, I lose track” You squinted your eyes in embarrassment, and straightened your arms while steering, scared to hear her reaction. You went from acting as if Gabby’s original question were preposterous, to accepting that your carelessness with protection was exactly what landed you in this position.

“Oh, Y/N, you better take a test. Listen, have sex all you want, but don’t think the raw doggin’ won’t catch up to you” she joked. You nodded with a face that was scrunched up in discomfort, understanding it needed to be done but your anxiety getting the best of you.

“Tomorrow after shift we’ll do it. Since we’re off the day after tomorrow, we can spend the night celebrating… or not.”

“And which outcome would result in us celebrating. Hmm Gab? I hope it’s the outcome where I’m NOT knocked up!” I exclaimed, completing stressing out.

“Hey, I would love to see a baby combination of you and Kelly running around the firehouse, wouldn’t you?” She leaned against the window to face towards you, her chin being held up by her fist.

“Yeah, of course! But maybe in 5 years or something?! There’s no way either of us are ready for a kid- we’re still recovering from our childhoods, and I wouldn’t want to traumatize our child in the process. Oh my god. Our child. That sounds so weird to say!” you groaned out in anxiety, your leg beginning to bounce up and down while you were parked at a red.

“Y/N it’s going to be okay. I promise. We’ll do this together. I would at least tell Severide you’re late, he deserves to stay in the loop, which he seemed to be out of this afternoon.” She said, referring to your health predicament from earlier.

“Yeah… I’ll talk to him.”

———————————————————————

“Are you feeling better? Why didn’t you tell me you were sick” Severide asked you, concern written all over his face.

You were both walking to his mustang, ready to call it a day after a hellish shift for the both of you. For you, it was the physical - and mental - ailments; for him, it was being worried about his at times secretive girlfriend.

“I’m good Kel, really. I just wanna go home” you said to him from across the car, getting into the passenger seat.

“Why are you like this, Y/N? Why can’t you keep me updated about what’s going on. I’ve been worried sick all shift and all you can give me is an ‘I’m good’” he spoke as he began the drive home.

“Look who’s talking! I find out what’s going on with you through Casey or Boden most of the time! It goes both ways, Kel” you uttered in frustration and focused on the scenery outside, confused as to how your secretive boyfriend himself could be upset with you about this.

“Okay, but I tell you eventually? You’ve been beating around the bush all day when I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

“My period is late.”

His head snapped over to look at you about as fast as you looked over at Dawson when she asked you if you were late.

Severide was speechless. He truly didn’t know what to say. You both went from disputing about your mutual secretiveness to drowning in the tension present in the car.

“How late?” he asked in a soft, curious tone, mad at himself for letting his protectiveness over you come out as anger.

“6 days. I’ll take a test soon” You replied, waiting for a response. But you didn’t get one. The rest of the ride home was silent, and Kelly hadn’t said a word. He was driving with a straight face, and as per usual you couldn’t detect exactly what was going through his mind. You once again peered out the window, and a lone tear slid down your cheek.

———————————————————————

You were on your way to Gabby’s house after the next day’s shift, deciding that you and Kelly needed some space. You had only seen him at work that day, and when you did it was an above-the-surface type of conversation- just so no one would realize something is up (even though the whole house knew).

You would be lying if you said you weren’t upset. You were expecting any other emotion from Kelly aside from the emptiness he was giving. Did he not care that he could’ve knocked you up? Was he going to break up with you if you are pregnant? Was he upset? You didn’t know. This obviously did not help the stress you were already under.

You arrived at Gabby’s apartment and made your way up. Before you had a chance to knock on the door, she had already swung it open.

“Did you miss me that much?” I laughed, hanging my coat up.

“I’m eager, Y/N. I wanna know!! Did you tell Kelly? I bet he’s so excited. And nervous. I bet he’s nervous. I thi-” “Gabby!!” you exclaimed, walking over to her and grabbing both of her cheeks with your hands. “Please relax, you’re stressing me out!”

Her eyes widened as she realized she’s probably not helping the anxiety you were feeling, and breathed out while pulling down her shirt. “Yes, yes, of course, sorry, okay.” She clapped, “let’s do this.”

———————————————————————

“So he just… didn’t say anything?” she asked in astonishment, closing the bathroom door behind her and setting a timer for 5 minutes.

“Nope. Like a dear in headlights with his mouth open to catch flies, he just sat there.”

You both sat down on the couch, waiting for the test to run it’s course. Gabby had some spare tests in her apartment, being the prepared person she was.

“He’s probably just scared, Y/N. You know how his relationship with dad is. He probably can’t fathom being a father himself when he had Benny for a father. And to be fair you did keep him out of the loop the whole day yesterday, you blindsided the guy.” You peered up at your best-friend in astonishment. You were so preoccupied with the idea of being pregnant that you didn’t even consider how your announcement might’ve affected Kelly.

“Dawson. I’m a horrible girlfriend.” You looked at her with wide, glistening eyes, realizing how horrible you’ve been to not only Kelly, but your family at 51. You weren’t used to people being sincerely worried about you, but how you treated them yesterday wasn’t fair. Especially your own boyfriend.

“You’re not, Y/N. You’re just used to letting the wrong people in. Now that the right people are trying to get in, you just gotta learn to let them. Especially Kelly. He loves you. We all know that. You make him happier than any girl he’s ever been with.”

You nodded in agreement after listening to Gabby’s wide words, and tried hard to stop bouncing your leg in an attempt to calm yourself down.

Before you were able to respond to her, the timer went off.

———————————————���———————

“Kel? I’m home” you shouted into your seemingly empty apartment

“In here!” he responded from the living room. You put your stuff down and walked towards him.

There he was watching the Chicago Blackhawks game with a beer in his hand, his legs spread, and one arm laying across around the back of the couch.

He put his beer down on the side table and stood up to face you. “I’m sor-” “No, I’m sorry, Y/N. I froze” he looked at you with a look of sorrow, upset that he let his girlfriend down when she needed him.

“When you told me you were late, my whole world froze. I was excited at the possibility of you carrying my child, but also terrified that I wouldn’t be capable of being the father you needed. Benny’s not exactly father of the year, but that doesn’t mean I can’t be. Whatever the results of the test are, I’ll be there for you. Doesn’t matter if I don’t feel ready, I’ll get ready. We’re in this together, Y/N.”

You were baffled that your boyfriend just poured his heart out to you. It was hard for Kelly to show emotion and let you in, but his commitment to try and to do better than his father warmed your heart, and you knew why he was the man you fell in love with.

You stepped towards him before you responded. “Kelly, I owe you an apology too. I should’ve told you I didn’t feel well. I don’t want you to favourite me and jeopardize your power just to cater to me. I want to keep work outside of our relationship, because I don’t want it to get in the way of what we have. Regardless of that, you deserve to stay updated about me, not as my superior, but as my boyfriend. And I vow to be less secretive with you. Also, you’re a hell lot more of a man than your father ever will be.”

He walked over to you and grabbed your face, commencing a passionate kiss.

“I love you too” you giggled, while he smiled in response.

“The test was negative, by the way. Which I had mixed feelings about. I want to carry your child but I know we’re both not ready. I can’t wait to actually make a baby though, I heard the process involves a lot of sex” you joked to him, earning a laugh in response.

“Let’s get a head start then.” He picked you up in a hurry and raced you over to the bedroom, ready for a long night of festivities.

———————————————————————

A/N: Hey everyone!! I hope you enjoyed that. I feel like I started off strong and then completely butchered the ending, but I hope it was a bearable read!! Send in requests/ let me know what type of imagines you want to see with Kelly.

[the-martyrfication-of-the-matron]

spare zane hcs?

I got halfway through this and the app crashed :(((

This is mostly MyS though some may be applicable to MCD too.

He has stretched ears. A few gauges of his were painted by aphmau to be bright colours and have cutesy designs. He loves them.

He’s fat. Like both him and Garroth are naturally pretty heavy because Garte’s a pretty big man, but he also eats loads of junk and his meds cause him to gain weight, so he’s fat. He’s p insecure that he’s not got muscle tho, because both Garroth and Garte are pretty buff, but he also doesn’t work out so it’s kind of his own fault he’s not muscly.

He’s often found petsitting for his friends. Animals love him.

He has earplugs with him all the time, he’s got sensory issues and noises really bug him. Plus he lives with Garroth, who’s a pretty loud guy, so he likes just blocking everything out. Aphmaus the only person allowed to remove his ear plugs if she needs to talk to him, other people have to tap his arm or like give hand gestures to ask for him to remove them.

He uses a cane and knee braces, it’s just easier on his joints bc those bitches hurt. (I stole this from @blockgamejournals on the MCD brainrot discord, with consent.) he also wears elbow braces occasionally but not often.

He’s part mermaid on Zianna’s side but has all of the negatives and none of the positives of it.

He used to have a crush on Aphmau in highschool, which Garroth would tease him about a lot. It big hurted when Garroth started dating aphmau, because he knew Zane used to like her and it’s just sort of rude.

He’s got really sharp teeth, and he cuts up the inside of his mouth a lot because of it.

His face is scarred up. He got hit by a normal snowball as a kid, but it hit the back of his head, and he fell forwards onto a sharp rock. It sort of messed his face up and he had to have a few surgeries to fix it up, but even with the surgeries he’s still got really prominent scars and they make him really insecure.

Zane wears his mask both because of his insecurity and also because he has a very weak immune system and so face masks help minimise the risk he has of catching anything. He also has disposable gloves that he almost always wears, never touches his face, and remains as far away from people as he can.

He’s unnecessarily good at solving Rubik’s cubes.

He’s blind in the eye he covers.

His joint pain is due to arthritis. His body is better suited for living in water, and living on land causes extra pressure to be put on his joints. It’s worst in his legs but his other joints are also affected.

He wears eyeliner.

He has the most gorgeous, silky black hair ever. And also an undercut. Because he’s emo.

He doesn’t know what his gender is but he knows he’s not cis. He just uses he/him pronouns for now because he’s not sure what pronouns do actually work for him.

He’s got a few tattoos, all emo. However he does have a minimalistic cat tattoo on his wrist which he has matching with Aphmau.

He puts his hair in a bun usually. But aphmau and nana constantly beg for him to let it down because they think it’s so pretty.

He occasionally smokes weed when his joints really hurt because it makes them hurt a little less. He hates the smell though.

Don’t know how to explain it, MCD Zane likes red wine, MyS Zane drinks beer. Not elaborating further.

He did coding in school and now does it as a job because it’s work that he can do laid in bed.

He first told Nana he loved her when he was loopy on pain meds.

Frankenstein was his favourite book when he was 14 and it’s still up there for him.

He’s got a daughter, he just doesn’t see her often because she lives with her mother in the north. He goes up to see her occasionally, sometimes she comes down and spends the day with him, but they don’t see eachother often enough. She also has joint problems, though hers are worse than his were at her age, so he’s worried about her. But she seems pretty cheery regardless

He took pottery classes for a while. Then Dante found out and he quit.

He sometimes likes to spend time watching really bad Middle Aged women shows with aphmau and Katelyn, though he likes to watch them to pick on them whilst the girls genuinely enjoy them.

[tripleaxeldiaz]

nobody wants to hear you sing about tragedy

read on ao3

Eddie’s fine. Really. He’s got a fresh scar on his right shoulder, a twin to his other one, and a couple more medical bills to pay off, but other than that, everything is good.

Why shouldn’t it be? Things could be worse — he could’ve lost his arm, could’ve been shot in the spine instead, could’ve not survived the trip to the hospital. But he did — he’s healed, he’s still breathing, and he’s ready to get back to work on Monday, to stop staring at the inside of his house and get back to the life he’d finally started to feel settled in. There’s a twinge in his chest every time he thinks about actually being back out in the field, but it’s just nerves, a small worry at getting back into the swing of things. He knows the team and how well they work together, so he’s sure one rope rescue with Buck is all it’ll take to feel normal again.

He’s fine. Or almost fine. Really, he is. He doesn’t let the tremble in his hands or the ice in his gut tell him otherwise.

~~~~~~~~~~

It doesn’t really register, the first time it happens. There’s a glint of light in his periphery, and for a second, his arms go numb. It’s just a second, though — he sees the flash again, sunlight shining off an axe Ravi is packing onto the truck, and he moves on, doesn’t think about it again.

The next time, the wind whips by his ear a little too fast after a call at the pier, and he turns around so quickly he cracks his neck, the thought of bulletbulletbullet ricocheting in his head. It gets him a concerned look from Bobby and reminds him that he never called that therapist his doctor mentioned at his last visit, but he elects to deal with it later and moves on.

Things keep happening, but they’re all small, insignificant — someone laughing too loudly at dinner, the feel of hot asphalt under his hands as he reaches under the ambulance for a runaway bandage roll, a phantom jolt of pain in his shoulder when someone accidentally jostles him running to the truck.

Tiny things, meaningless, not even worth remembering.

He’ll get used to them, eventually. He’s been healing, isolated from the real world for months now, it’s going to be a bit of a shock to his system and his senses.

He doesn’t call the therapist.

~~~~~~~~~~

Buck’s happy. Genuinely happy, in an open, honest way that Eddie doesn’t think he’s ever seen. His laughs are still loud but they’re freer, unrestrained, and his smile is bright enough to light whatever room he’s in. It makes something sing in Eddie’s chest, especially when all that wattage gets directed at him. If he’s honest, the music’s been there for a while, it just took lying in his own blood, reaching toward the only thing that felt like safety, for him to finally put a name on the song that’s been playing.

Talk about shitty timing.

Because Buck’s with Taylor now, and as much as he still doesn’t care for her, she’s helping with Buck’s new attitude too. He sees the soft smiles that linger after a text from her, and he only gives himself a minute to wish it were for him instead before reminding himself how much of a miracle those smiles are at all.

If he had watched Buck get shot, been splattered with his blood, been soaked with it as he tried to stop it from leaking out of his chest, he’s not sure he would’ve had any kind of happiness to spare.

So he adds this feeling, this particularly green beast twisting in his chest, to the list of things that he’s just going to have to get used to, and moves on. Buck is still in his and Chris’ life, still at their house more than his own, still the center of both of their worlds, and that’s enough. 

It has to be.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Wow, Eddie, you look like shit.”

He glares at Chimney as best he can, but he’s too tired for it to hold any heat. “Good morning to you too, Chim.”

Hen sits next to him at the table where he’s nursing his second mug of coffee of the day, downing the first one before driving Chris to school. She presses the back of her hand to his forehead, and he tries not to melt into the touch too much.

“You don’t feel warm,” she says, “but you look like you’ve been hit by a truck.”

He shrugs, staring down at his coffee. “Just haven’t been sleeping well.”

That may be an understatement. Not sleeping well implies sleeping at all, which Eddie’s not sure he’s been able to do in the past few days. It was easy enough when he first got home, still on pain meds that made his eyelids constantly heavy. And when Chris crawled into his bed the night after his sling came off, quiet but sniffling and burrowing into his side, it was a relief to gather him up close, a hand stroking through his hair as they both drifted off, clinging to each other. It was good for both of them, necessary to remind them both that Eddie is still here, but Chris went to his own room on Monday night instead of Eddie’s, and Eddie refused to take that choice away from him. 

So he’s been alone, in a too dark room with a too big bed and a too loud brain that only shows him flashes of light and blood and fear whenever he does try to close his eyes.

Just another thing he has to get used to.

He sees Chim and Hen exchange a look and hopes to God they don’t press it. He’s beyond frayed, his state of exhaustion warring with his almost constant state of hypervigilance, and he’s not sure if he’d snap or cry or both if they try to ask him any more questions. Either way, that’s not how he wants them or anyone else to see him, especially not at work. At work, he’s Mr. Cool, always level headed, always in the game, always on top of it. Despite the jumpiness, despite the sense of dread that seems to be a permanent fixture under his skin, he’s been able to keep that attitude going, even getting lost in it sometimes, feeling like the Eddie of four months ago again. If that starts to unravel, who knows what other parts of him will fall apart with it?

Luckily, they seem to get the hint, a pat on the back and a squeeze on the shoulder as they leave the loft to restock the ambulance. But even once they’re gone and he’s alone in the quiet of the loft again, Eddie feels exposed. Fragile. Vulnerable. Teetering on the edge of an abyss he can’t afford to fall into. And he hates it, because this isn’t him. He’s the protector, the provider, the guy who’s survived getting shot twice now, and as much as he encourages Chris to be open and emotional, it still feels wrong to him, like something too close to failure. He knows, rationally, that talking about the mess in his head would probably help, but it would also feel like a loss. Like this one-sided war he’s been fighting was all for nothing.

He hears Buck before he sees him, his unmistakable bounding up the stairs echoing through the whole loft. Just that sound, just the knowledge that Buck is about to be in his vicinity, is enough to yank Eddie back from the edge. He’s not settled or calm or better, but he’s not worse. These days, that’s all he can really ask for.

Buck takes Hen’s vacant seat, stealing a sip of coffee and chattering about a traveling art exhibit he thinks they should take Chris to. Eddie feels the vice on his ribs loosen, letting Buck’s voice and enthusiasm wash over him, pushing him back to center. He doesn’t quite make it, not when Buck stops talking mid-sentence, brow furrowed and looking so intensely at Eddie he can probably see right through him

“You look tired,” Buck says. 

Tired isn’t a strong enough word. But he smirks half heartedly instead, willing a little bit of his confidence back to get the subject changed sooner. “And here I thought I looked good today.”

“No, you always—“ Buck clears his throat and shakes his head, “You just look like you could use a nap. Are you okay?”

And for the first time since he woke up in the hospital with a new hole in his body and extra demons in his head, Eddie doesn’t want to say he’s fine. In the face of earnest blue eyes and worry lines, he doesn’t want to lie, and that’s exactly what an I’m fine would be, no matter how much he’s been trying to ignore it. He doesn’t want to downplay and pretend that it’s nothing, because it’s Buck. Buck who has seen him lower than he’s ever let anyone see, who slept on his couch so he was never too far away from him or Chris, who knows when Eddie needs to be pulled or pushed or pressed or none of the above. 

He doesn’t want to just say he’s fine, because he’s not.

The courage to say so finally fills him, just in time for Buck’s phone to light up, Taylor’s name flashing across the screen on two messages. Buck doesn’t even glance at his phone before flipping it face down and pushing it to the side, but it’s too late — Eddie feels his walls going back up, any bravery leaving to make room for the reminder that Buck is in a good place and Eddie will do anything to keep him there. He’ll take another bullet, he’ll keep every emotion under lock and key, he’ll carve his own damn heart out of his chest if he has to. He cannot — will not — be the reason that smile that’s become so natural on Buck’s face dims by even a watt. 

The crease in between Buck’s brow has only gotten deeper the longer Eddie hasn’t answered, so he musters up the most genuine smile he can. “I’m okay, Buck. I promise.” The lie cuts through his throat like broken glass.

Buck squints at him, scooting forward until his knees are digging into Eddie’s thigh. “You’d tell me if you weren’t, right?”

“Of course,” he says, another lie, more salt in the wounds he’s already given himself. Buck’s quiet for a few long moments, studying Eddie’s face, and Eddie prays that he doesn’t crack, that Buck doesn’t keep pressing. By some miracle, he doesn’t, just rests a hand on Eddie’s knee and squeezes before heading to the pantry for a snack.

The vice is back as soon as he’s out of sight, and Eddie’s list of things he has to learn to live with is starting to feel a little too long.

~~~~~~~~~~

Healing isn’t linear. It’s something he’s heard from every doctor he’s seen, every therapist he’s been assigned to, something he’s experienced first hand, physically and emotionally. So when he wakes up one morning feeling rested, energetic, and normal, he’s wary. He doesn’t want to focus on it, afraid he’ll scare this fragile feeling away, but he also wants to soak in it as much as he can. Wants to remember the easy laughs with the team and the night of board games with Chris and Buck when he’s inevitably surrounded by darkness again tomorrow.

He falls asleep and he doesn’t dream and he wakes up and feels...normal. Again. Same thing the morning after, and the morning after that. For a whole week, he doesn’t wake up with the taste of blood in his mouth or a soreness in his shoulder. He hears birds and sees the sun peaking in and feels something dangerously close to good. The wariness is still there, but every day it gets pushed a little farther back in his mind, making it a little easier to believe that while this feeling might not last, maybe it won’t be as dark when the clouds roll back in.

He’s wrong. 

The restlessness comes back with a vengeance — a thrumming in his blood that won’t let him sleep, that amplifies every sound to sharp snaps that remind him too much of the gunfire he’s been trying to forget, putting him constantly on edge again. There’s a heaviness too, making it hard to breathe, hard to move, even though staying in one place for too long feels like putting a target on his back for the monsters that have made a home in his head.

He tries to keep his cool, tries to keep the facade up, but it’s hard to keep your balance on a frayed tightrope.

Bobby notices the shift right away.

It doesn’t help that even the quiet thump of the oven closing makes Eddie flinch where he’s sitting at the kitchen counter. He had hoped that watching Bobby make breakfast would calm him, remind him of the countless hours he’s spent in Abuela’s kitchen doing the very same thing, but it doesn’t. He’s still jittery, worse than he can remember being, and everything just feels like too much. 

Bobby sets a to-go container down in front of him, and Eddie flinches (and curses himself) again. He looks up, confused, and is met with Bobby’s I’m about to tell you to do something and you are not allowed to say no look. Usually it’s Buck on the receiving end of that one.

He tries for a deflection. “Are we going somewhere, Cap?”

The look stays in place. “We are not. You are. There’s enough in there for you and Chris, take it home and don’t let me see you here for the next 48 hours.”

“There’s still three hours left of shift.”

Bobby pushes the container closer. “Go home, Diaz. Be with your kid. We’ll talk when you get back. And if you won’t talk to me, we’ll find someone you will talk to.”

Normally, he’d fight back. Raise his hackles, insist he doesn’t need any special treatment or intervention. But he feels like his insides have been scooped out and replaced with lead and cement and he’s tired. He barely has enough left in him to keep himself upright.

He slowly picks up the container and gets up to leave. Bobby calls his name as he gets to the top of the stairs.

“We’re here for you,” he says. “You’ve been through too much to be handling this on your own. Just let us know how we can help.”

I would if I could, but I don’t even know where to start. 

He just nods, hopes his face looks some degree of reassuring, and heads to the locker room.

~~~~~~~~~~

The way Chris’ face lights up when he sees Eddie waiting for him in the front office is enough to thaw the ice in his chest for a minute. He can hear the exact octave his mother’s voice would reach if she heard about him pulling Chris out of school for “no good reason”, but he also could not give less of a shit.

He feels a little bit more like a person with Chris in the backseat. That’s a good enough reason for him.

They set up camp in the park near their house, Bobby’s food and extra snacks Eddie picked up spread out between them, and Chris fills Eddie in on all the things he missed while he was working. He tries to focus on everything — Chris’ excitement about his upcoming science fair, the Sour Patch Watermelon sugar stuck to the tip of his nose, the way his hands move with his words. Eddie feels better, more settled, just getting to bask in the sun and in Chris like this, but he still feels heavy, like every move he makes has him fighting against gravity, threatening to pull him into the dirt. 

There’s a crack from the playground in front of them, and Eddie’s blood turns to ice. He’s halfway to standing before he sees it’s just some kids snapping sticks in half to build some kind of log cabin. He lets out a slow breath as he sits back down and wills his heartbeat back to normal.

Chris is staring at him, eyes intense and brow furrowed, very similar to someone else they know.

Shit.

As soon as he’s settled, Chris moves to sit in the criss-cross of his legs. He’s a little too on the lanky side for this anymore, but Eddie’s absolutely not going to complain. Chris twists until he’s looking Eddie in the eye. Eddie does his best not to look away.

Chris rests a hand on his cheek. “It’s okay if you’re feeling bad,” he says. “You can talk to me about it, if you want.”

The crack comes from Eddie’s own heart this time. His kid has been through so much in 10 short years, and it’s only made him wiser than he should be, compassionate and understanding and open, ready to be there for anyone without a second thought. He’s good in every sense of the word, and Eddie’s in awe of the fact that he, somehow, has something to do with that. And the last thing he wants to do is lie to his son, but he just...can’t. Talk about it. Not now. Not yet. Not in a way that will keep Chris this good.

He has no way of articulating all that, so he just wraps his arms around Chris’ middle and squeezes him close.

“I know, buddy. Thank you. I’ll be okay, and we’ll talk soon.”

It’s not a lie, but it’s not everything.

It seems to be enough for Chris, though. He nods and pats Eddie’s face before reaching into his backpack and pulling out a library book. “Well, I’m gonna read to you until you feel better, just like you do for me.”

It’s the first real smile Eddie’s cracked in months. He kisses the top of Chris’ head, settling his chin there as Chris leans back into his chest.

“Sounds like a good plan to me.”

They sit there for a while longer, Chris reads to him about Percy and Annabeth and Grover, and Eddie, inexplicably, feels a little bit lighter.

~~~~~~~~~~

Buck’s Jeep is parked outside when they get home, and Chris practically breaks down the door to greet him. It looks like he’s gone all out, too — Chinese food on the table, the promise of cookies and cream ice cream in the fridge, and a list of movies that Chris ecstatically agrees with as Buck lists them off. Chris hurries off to change and clean up for dinner, and Eddie moves to start opening plastic lids and cardboard containers. 

“You didn’t have to go to all this trouble,” he says. He leaves out just having you with us is enough.

Buck waves him off. “Anything for you two.”

He could leave it at that, keep up the comfortable silence as they move around the kitchen in tandem, but there’s a nagging memory that he has to ask about or he’ll never stop thinking about it.

“Didn’t you have a date with Taylor tonight?”

Buck tenses ever so slightly, a container of dumplings shifting in his hand. “Cancelled,” he says with a shrug.

Eddie knows there’s more, but Chris comes back before he can ask, and it doesn’t feel like a conversation they can have in front of a 10 year old. So they eat, and fall into the familiar banter between the three of them, and for half an hour, Eddie can be present. He can forget the last six months and the weight still hanging off of him and live in this moment, with the two most important people in his life, and pretend that this is all there is. Just these two and their joy and warmth that wraps around him tight enough to make him feel alive again, if only for a little while.

Two bowls of ice cream and one and a half movies later, Chris is dead to the world. Buck carries him to bed and Eddie tries to ignore the new ache that’s sprung up of the course of the evening, the one that wants and pulls towards Buck like a magnet. The one that almost purrs when Buck settles back on the couch so close they’re touching from ankle to (good) shoulder, contentedness washing over the living room as they find a rerun of The Shawshank Redemption playing on cable. It’s not perfect, there’s still a roiling in his blood that won’t seem to leave him alone, but he feels better than he has in God knows when.

Buck shifts closer to Eddie, eyes glowing in the light of the TV, and Eddie never wants him to leave. “Thanks for coming tonight. I— Chris and I both really needed this, I think.”

“I told you, anything for you two. Always.”

He ignores the way his stomach flips and tries to focus on the movie. He gets about five minutes of peace before another thought comes back, still nagging him, mixing with his anxiety enough to actually force him to say something.

He aims for cool and casual. “So, you and Taylor...everything okay?”

Buck gives him a very long, almost challenging look before turning off the TV. Seems he missed that casual mark. “I should be asking you the same thing.” “Very funny.”

“I’m not trying to be. I’m really worried about you, Eds.”

“This isn’t my first time getting shot, I know how to handle it.” He doesn’t mean for it to come out as bitter as it does, but he can’t bring himself to care, either. He doesn’t have the energy to keep a filter up anymore.

“Eddie, I’m serious.”

“I’m fine, Buck,” he says sharply, and he’s surprised his teeth haven’t fallen out of his head yet with how hard he’s lying through them. He hates that he’s lying to Buck at all, but those smiles he’s gotten used to have been fewer and farther between recently, and he knows it’s his fault. He might feel like his own seams are coming apart, but he’ll be damned if he rips Buck open too, even if it means pushing him away from his mess. “You’ve got a life and a girlfriend to worry about, I’ll figure everything out on my own.” 

“I don’t.”

“What?”

“I don’t have a girlfriend. We broke up.”

Eddie pauses, curses the faint hope that sparks in his chest. “Why?”

“Because I’ve been a little distracted by someone else for the past few months. It didn’t feel fair to her to keep it going.”

He gives him another long look, and Eddie might be a little dense when it comes to things like this, but that look breaks through loud and clear. This is it. This is real. This is everything he’s wanted for the past six months — and probably longer than that — but now that it’s happening, it doesn’t feel right. Buck was happy, free, finally settled into his own skin, and it’s all gone now because of Eddie and his stupid, broken everything. He knows he won’t be able to give Buck everything he needs, at least right now, but Buck needs to know that too. “Buck—”

“Nope,” he says with a firm shake of his head. “I know you’re gonna try and blame yourself for this somehow, but…don’t. It was bound to happen anyway. Because you’re right, I do have a life, but it’s you two. You and Chris. That’s all I need it to be. That’s all I want it to be. And I hate that it took so long for me to figure out, that it took you getting shot, but we’re here now.” His eyes shutter a bit as he looks down at his hands. “At least, I hope we are.”

And there it is. So simple, so easy, for Buck to admit this huge thing that Eddie thought he was dancing around on his own. The ease reminds Eddie, through his fog of sadness and anger and every other bleak feeling that’s been controlling him, that that’s what makes them work so well together. Honesty. Being able to show all their ugly, mismatched inside parts to each other and still find the beauty, the ways to help, the ways to hold each other together when they need it the most.

And Eddie doesn’t think he’s ever needed to be held together more than he does right now.

“Ask me,” he whispers, the sound seeming to echo around the room.

“Ask you what?”

“Ask me if I’m okay.”

Buck shuffles on the couch until they’re facing each other, takes both of Eddie’s hands in his. 

“Eddie,” he says softly, “are you okay?”

The world blurs as the tears he’s been fighting finally break free, but he feels strong. Brave. Like he can do anything now that Buck’s holding his hand.

“No,” he says, a crack in his voice but the conviction behind it still firm. “No, I’m not okay.”

The floodgates open, and he lets everything wash over him, all the things he’s been holding back, forcing away in the hopes that they’d just disappear one day. He’s floating and sinking and lost in the waves of it all, but strong arms wrap around him and pull him close, and there’s relief. Not a lot, not enough, but it’s there, for the first time since he woke up in the hospital. He feels safe here, with Buck wiping away his tears and pressing kisses along his hairline. He honestly forgot what safety felt like, was sure he’d never feel anything like it again. But he knew it that day he was bleeding out on the street, and he knows it now — it feels like Buck’s sweatshirt and smells like his aftershave and sounds like whispers of it’s okay and I’ve got you.

It all subsides, eventually, but Buck still holds him close, presses their foreheads together so there’s nothing else Eddie can focus on. His eyes are piercing, bright like Eddie only usually sees when Buck has a plan that refuses to be derailed.

“Let me help, Eddie,” he says, punctuated with a kiss on Eddie’s cheek. “I know you think you can do this yourself, but you don’t have to. I don’t want you to. Let me help you carry it.”

His voice left with the rush of everything, so all Eddie can do is nod before sinking back into Buck, into relief. Even that simple motion, the silent acknowledgement that he’s not alone anymore, is enough to let small seeds of hope sink into him and take root. They’re still weak, still unfamiliar, but they’re here, waiting to grow. 

And Eddie knows, with a certainty that he forgot he was capable of, that Buck will be here to help tend to them, no matter how long it takes for them to blossom.

~~~~~~~~~~

When Eddie wakes up the next morning, he still feels weighed down. There’s still an edge, an unease low in his gut, anxiety still crawling through his veins.

He’s not okay. But he looks over and sees Buck — breathing even, arm thrown over Eddie’s stomach, keeping him close — and the ever-present darkness fades from an angry black to melancholy grey. Not perfect, not even close, but better.

He’s not okay. He hasn’t been for a while. But now, finally, he feels like he will be.

[insertsyscoursehere]

Sophie? Sophie. Look at me. Look at me and my system in our cold, dark, decrepit little eyes.

We are a *pro-endo* system whose dissociation is the result of BPD. Do not lump us in with anti-endo people. Doing so is a bastardized misunderstanding of what I and the rest of my system are.

As a system with BPD, a system who dealt with serious emotional abuse through constant threats and abandonment that broke us into pieces, as a system that constantly has to work to do better, as a system whose disorder is in fact considered so emotionally painful that it’s physically painful, it is irresponsible and violent of you to wish isolation on a person.

If you were to do that to me, if you wished that all my friends and family turned their back, and you got your way, as your campaign seems to be pushing— that would be harmful to me. Harmful and traumatic. And it could cost lives in that hypothetical.

But of course, it’s all hypothetical, so it’s okay! It isn’t like you wished bodily harm, right? If you don’t threaten bodily harm, it’s okay to wish mental anguish on others until they conform to whatever to say.

Sophie, riddle me this— if I said “I hope your psychiatric meds run out and you can’t renew them”, is that a threat? Doesn’t that imply the wish for the consequences of losing your meds?

For individuals like me, having a social safety net is vital to disorder management and recovery. It is vital to ensuring that my disordered behaviors are kept in check, so that if I’m being impulsive I can be properly called out. To remove that for a BPD person would be denying them the right at a chance for recovery, which can lead them to the worst scenarios possible.

In my time of need, I was isolated so badly that my system re-emerged from an abuse-driven dormancy. Isolation broke “me” into “us”. Permanently.

So why is it okay to say to any other human (relatively speaking as there are kin people), who relies on connection with other people as a social species? There’s a reason that many argue that solitary confinement is a cruel and unusual punishment— it can cause irreparable psychological damage.

While you may think that it isn’t harmful, solitary confinement is inhumane, a morally evil part of prisons, and if it were done during warfare would violate the Geneva Convention.

And in your original statement, you make it clear that politically you want to make space more aware of plurality:

“I am seeking to turn every space against you” is not an empty threat— it’s a statement of intention. You are seeking to induce social isolation on a mass scale for people who don’t agree with you.

While you are right that wishing that on someone is not a crime, enacting that upon a civilian for their opinion would be. And furthermore, it isn’t a matter of legalities in the scope of the discourse from others—it’s a morally detestable thing to say.

And the fact you made it clear that this is your agenda—to alienate fellow people from society— it’s not only irresponsible and cruel, it’s advocating a lack of equal rights.

For me, this has nothing to do with science surrounding the subject of endogenic systems— they have their reasons and I don’t meddle in those because it’s not my business.

This has to do with the disregard for systems who struggled with isolation in their abuse, with systems with BPD, and with systems whose RAMCOA includes the cult practice of shunning and cutting off outsiders.

This is about wishing people mental anguish via isolation without understanding that mental anguish, as a symptom of BPD, is one of the most cited reasons that the disorder has an extremely high death toll.

Legally, you are not a criminal. Morally, you’re a wolf in sheep’s clothing, pretending to be on the high ground when you say things that are insensitive to people like me.

If you knew when a day of the anguish someone with my condition had to suffer you’d never say that again as long as you lived, Sophie. The only things that keep me in the straight and narrow are my medicine, my therapy training, and my support network. If that were taken from me, as you seem to be campaigning for in the section cited above, it would spell DEATH.

Isolation is death for me and many other BPD havers, Sophie. Isolation is the mechanism from which many, myself included, were horribly abused, Sophie. Cutting off people is a tactic of control, Sophie.

It’s not a cute little punishment to “make someone see the light”, it’s a measure to instill fear of being alone so they can be coerced into whatever you want from them. And though it may have been just a threat to you, your goals (as stated above) are to bring so much public awareness that it starts to happen irl.

So don’t you dare say you didn’t mean it to cause harm, because that’s a farce. It caused harm to people whose trauma, independent on whether it caused their systemhood, is a factor in their triggers. You could have triggered someone in your audience into reliving traumatic memories.

And for people with BPD like me, it’s not as bad as suibaiting and it isn’t worse than suibaiting— it IS suibaiting, because that’s what a lack of proper care often ends with for people like us.

But sure, your words “✨aren’t harmful✨😊”. /s

—Leveret and Peregrine

Am I A Criminal 😱 ???????

(Spoiler: The answer is no.)

(Link to the post that started this drama for reference.)

First, minor point, but I don't think I backpedaled. I think, as plurality becomes accepted and more well-known by the general population, the world is going to become a miserable and unaccepting place for anti-endos to exist in. I think it's integral that it does, to limit the reach of anti-endos.

I do hope that what many anti-endos will take away from this shift against them is that they need to change. And I do think many will. A lot of anti-endos I see are giving into peer pressure, not really thinking for themselves. If pro-endos become the more vocal presence and their friends change stances, I think many of these people will change.

But not everyone will.

I didn't say in my post that I thought they would be isolated forever. But I also didn't say that they wouldn't be.

Hate is a choice, and how people respond to them is going to depend on their own choices. If they continue to choose hate against endogenic systems, this is what I believe awaits them until they change.

But to the main point, are these words criminal?

Could The Anon Be Charged With Threatened Harm For Their Comments?

Maybe.

I want to mention that I actually didn't think of it as a death threat at first. I saw the threat to bash my head in until I had an "actual split personality" as "only" a threat to physically assault and brutalize me until the trauma left me with a dissociative disorder. (You take you pick of which interpretation is worse.)

It was only on reflection when others mentioned it being a death threat that I realized the intended meaning may have simply been literally splitting my brain, being a poor play on words.

In either case, it was clearly a threat to cause me great bodily harm.

Having said that, looking at Cali's law on threats, there are a couple points that may be hard to stick.

I picked Cali because it's the first thing that popped up in the search, and laws like this do vary from state to state.

That fourth point is what I think may make this hard to pin down for prosecution. An anon potentially from the other side of the globe who has no idea what our real name saying they would murder or brutalize us "if they saw us IRL" probably can't be prosecuted under this law, as it doesn't invoke an immediate threat like it might if they had said "I'm going to come to your house and attack you."

Additionally, I can't say that this caused me a sustained fear, in large part due to the point I just mentioned.

(But also because, as I said then, the anon is a coward.)

Although, for that last point, I think such a threat COULD result in sustained fear if directed at someone else.

And the OP's hypothetical does say "if this were face-to-face."

In that case, I have zero doubt that threatening to harm or kill someone face-to-face in this manner would fulfill all the criteria since it could easily be acted on and would cause someone to fear for their safety.

Could I Be Charged With Threatened Harm For My Comments?

Short answer: No. Definitely not.

Long answer: A criminal threat has to be of a crime and causing bodily injury. "I'm going to call you mean names later" would not be a criminal threat, for example, even if you could argue that calling someone mean names would be a form of emotional damage.

And while this varies again from state to state, I would be surprised if any state outlawed threatening to cause purely emotional harm in a noncriminal way.

It would be a huge attack on freedom of speech to do so here in the United States, at least.

Furthermore, like with the previous issue, the threat also has to be specific to the victim and convey an immediate possibility of being executed.

My own words are several degrees removed from that.

An example of an immediate threat with the possibility of being carried out would be something like "I'm going to come to your home and kidnap you, then lock you in a box to keep you isolated."

That's scary and would put someone in immediate fear of being harmed. It's also threatening a clear criminal action. This one would probably constitute a criminal threat.

Moving further away from what could be protected under this law, you might have something like "I'm going to personally go around telling all your friends and family how bad you are so they'll leave you."

This one is in-between my post and an actual criminal threat. This is something that could invoke a fear of an immediate action. But it's no longer fulfilling the criteria of threatening something criminal nor is it really putting anyone in immediate fear for their safety under any reasonable definition.

That brings us to my post which essentially can be boiled down to "I'm going to push for broad social rejection of anti-endoism over a painstakingly slow process that will someday leave people like you ostracized by every group you care about."

Was I saying this in a way that was intentionally mean to someone who threatened me with injury and/or death? Sure. Did I think carefully about how to make my words cut the deepest before speaking because I really wanted the troll to have a worse day upon reading my response? Yeah. 🤷‍♀️

I'm not a saint and am not going to pretend otherwise. And I don't regret my actions in the slightest. I don't have a responsibility to play nice with people threatening to maim and/or kill me.

What I did not do was threaten bodily harm.

I did not threaten any future personal interaction whatsoever with this person nor any direct action against them or anyone they care about.

And while I know the US is especially known for its freedom of speech, I suspect that most Western countries probably wouldn't criminalize "threats" that aren't even threatening an actual criminal action.

Because the actual actions I "threatened" are... doing exactly what I've always done. Keep criticizing anti-endos. Making it clear that the science and psychiatrists oppose. Reminding people again and again of their cruelty and the toxicity of their community. Highlighting their attacks on religious beliefs of systems. And making it clear that we cannot tolerate intolerance of endogenic systems.

And also... posting scientific articles on endogenic systems, posting about plurality of fictional characters, sharing resources about endogenic systems, and encouraging endogenic and mixed origin systems to be proud of who they are. Because every act of encouraging acceptance and normalizing endogenic systems is also another small step towards this goal. The more tolerated endogenic systems are, the less tolerated anti-endos will be.

This is Beyond Ridiculous

Over the past week, people have claimed that my words are worse than suibaiting and death threats.

They've compared my predictions of and efforts to push for rejection of anti-endoism to personal abuse tactics and violence.

(I'm not sure if they think I was "abusing" the person who threatened to maim and/or kill me by responding how I did, or if they think successfully bringing about a society where anti-endos wouldn't be accepted is the abuse. Both takes are equally laughable.)

Now it's apparently a literal crime!

At the rate this is evolving, I'm expecting the next post to claim I'm encouraging a genocide of anti-endos. 🙄

People are entitled to not like what I said. Fine.

But trying to paint it as a Violent criminal abuse tactics worse than death threats or suibait is absurd.

There are comically huge leaps being made to blow my comments to that anon way out of proportion beyond what any rational individual would.

And in the process, these bad takes misrepresent the law while also minimizing death threats, threats of violence, abuse tactics, and literal acts of violence.

[naamahdarling]

Pain and anger about the SNAP thing below. TW discussion of pet desth, I guess. Suicidal ideation.

So some Lady from DHS called last Thursday. I was asleep, as one is at noon, and she left a message like "Call me!" but of course didn't say what it's about. There's a couple things it could be, one of which could be pretty bad. So I try to call her back twice a day since then, and leave messages, but she won't call me back. I have no idea why.

Today I get a letter saying "You have a review appt on Wednesday at 9 a.m.! You have to justify your need for food, you worthless leech! Be awake for the call or we shoot your dog!" and I'm like...at that point I will have been in bed for like 4 hours or so, and my meds will still be knocking me tf out to the point I maybe can't carry a coherent conversation.

Obviously this is not the ideal situation to be having a conversation about whether you deserve food. But when I try to call to reschedule, the line is busy all day. Because it's my obligation to be available to THEM and not their obligation to be available to me, ever.

So now because they are shitty what I have to do is either NOT TAKE MY GODDAMN MEDICATION or just stay up, and fuck up my sleep schedule just for these precious motherfuckers who can't be arsed to warn me more than a day and a half in advance.

1) If the mail had been later, I WOULD HAVE MISSED IT. I WOULD NOT EVEN KNOW I HAD MISSED IT. How is this okay?!

2) I am DISABLED with an anxiety disorder among other things. This could really hurt me. I don't know! Lack of sleep brings on so much anxiety and dissociation that it is the most reliable suicide risk trigger I have. Like, intense suicidal ideation within 2 or 3 days of sleep disruption. This is incredibly powerful, weird, all out of proportion to what I deal with every day. I HATE it. It is a huge hindrance to functioning in a capitalistic shitshow that expects even sick people to be awake from 7-whenever they don't need you anymore.

3) All this stress over this asshole not returning my calls and my benefits maybe being cut has fucked me up so bad I had probably the worst PTSD nightmares of my life. Bad enough that I woke up thinking I might fucking faint, which was SO weird, or that I might throw up, which wouldn't be weird, but would definitely have sucked. It was EXTREMELY upsetting and managed to hit every single trauma button I have, in a SINGLE DREAM. I have already had one day of very little sleep. I will have very little sleep tonight. That's two days. How bad will I be fucked up tomorrow? Enough to melt down over wanting to die? When I need to be supporting my boyfriend?

3) Because they won't call me back, I'm having to have this conversation on the day I have to put my cat down. Once I wind down from this call, if the outcome is good, I will get maybe 3 hours of sleep. If it's bad and I wind up with no benefits, or in trouble, I may get none and may become instantly at risk of self-harm. All this before I have to take Harley in and say goodbye forever. They get to shit on this day even more by making me justify my right to pay for food.

4) The medication that would help me the most is my Klonopin. I have none left and can't get any prescribed because those are bastard junkie crime meds that only addicts and weak, shitty people take, and good moral people just handle their mental illness without safe and effective tools. So I have to either take none and endure the 2d6 psychic damage no save, illegally accept some from a friend, or develop, before morning, the kinds of helpful contacts who could sell me some that might be laced with god knows what. I'm a whitebread chickenshit who has had at most 15 tastes of alcohol in over 40 years, has never done an illegal drug, with no criminal record of any kind. A) I don't even know how to buy weed. B) I don't have the profile of someone who will develop addiction and shouldn't be denied ANY medication in any quantity or dosage I need. C) Addicts also don't deserve the treatment they get and I'm tired of them being used against other mentally ill people, turning us against addicts when we should be ALLIES.

5) I am actually uncomfortable taking this call in my mental state. I may not be able to self-advocate. This is unacceptable except there is no process for dealing with it. It is in their favor. If I melt down, they may become much less helpful. Anxiety disorders and exhibiting symptoms of them are often perceived as weakness and attempted manipulation even by paid mental health professionals, let alone by Doris Boomer at DHS who deals with the Poors every day and whose training has taught her to mistrust everyone. My assertions about what is going on will probably be seen as lies. Because, surprise, people DO lie when they are pissed off, resentful, need breathing room, or are being harmed by the system.

And I'm hurt, above all, by the fact that I called today and left a message begging, literally begging, for her to call me back because I'm sick and can't sleep and my cat is dying and I had no warning about this appointment and can't safely be up to take the call because if I can't sleep I start wanting to die, so please, please god please, if I can't take that call, please don't take my food away on top of everything else, I can't afford it.

So that was a great thing to know about myself. That if I think you might take my food benefits away I will grovel like a pathetic bug, even though I know it only makes it more likely for you to crush me. I hate myself right now. I feel disgusting.

Also they're deadnaming me so I have to do it to myself.

I'm exhausted. I was so nauseated yesterday, and faint all day, and it was anxiety. The shitty antihistamines they give for anxiety just made me feel sicker and didn't help at all, as they usually do not. I took my last Klonopin last night because that nightmare was horrifying and I still feel sick and covered in filth from it. I want to scream and scream even thinking about it.

I don't know. I guess I just wanted to put all this down and maybe derive some comfort from people seeing it and BELIEVING ME. That's one of the worst things about all of this. Being considered a liar when more than one thing is going wrong, being told it's a sob story or manipulation or an outright lie. Being considered hostile and out of line when you call out a power stronger than you for abusing that power. Being told it's just policy and not personal when nobody can explain to me how denying someone food is NOT personal.

The cruelty may not be the point, it's just how the system has grown in ways dictated by people who don't care. So it may not be this way entirely by design. But nobody cares enough to fix it, either. They're content to let it be harmful. And to let it, sometimes, break or kill people.

[allthefilmsiveseenforfree]

Dear Evan Hansen

You may have seen some ~online discourse~ about the film Dear Evan Hansen, an adaptation of the 2016 Broadway musical, and you might have wondered what all the hubbub is about. I mean, it’s a feel good story about a senior in high school, Evan Hansen (Ben Platt), who has some pretty severe anxiety and depression. While trying to fulfill an assignment from his therapist to write a letter to himself, his letter gets picked up by another student, Connor (Colton Ryan) - and later that day, Connor kills himself. Connor’s grieving parents and sister Zoe (Amy Adams, Danny Pino, and Kaitlyn Dever) are desperate to learn more from the boy they think was Connor’s best friend - after all, Connor’s suicide note was a letter addressed to “Dear Evan Hansen.” And, as you can imagine, Evan tells them about the unfortunate mistake and sits with them in their grief as they struggle to pick up the pieces of their lives. 

Just kidding! He lies to them, repeatedly, elaborately, expansively for months, constructing an entire false friendship with Connor that never happened, and ingratiating himself into the wealthy nuclear family he never had, in large part because he wants to get into Zoe’s pants! THIS IS THE PROTAGONIST OF THE STORY. Oh, and it’s a musical so there is a lot of singing and crying and singing WHILE crying and sometimes crying and not singing at all. But the #inspiration, you guys. 

Things I liked:

Pretty much everything but the story and Ben Platt’s performance. The supporting cast is stacked, and all of them do a great job at elevating material scraped directly out of a diaper worn by someone who just chewed their way through a copy of the DSM-5. 

A couple of the songs are damn catchy - “Waving Through a Window” and “You Will Be Found” are standouts for a reason - and here’s the thing, Platt sings them well. But as you’ll discover, there’s a lot more to a movie musical than just singing your part. 

Stephen Chbosky, the man behind every deep thought I and a lot of people in my generation had in 2006 after he wrote The Perks of Being a Wallflower, is a pretty good director. I particularly enjoyed the fanvid-type cuts in “Waving Through a Window” in conjunction with the lyrics, and his use of interstitial shots to flashbacks (and sometimes flashforwards!) is a neat little bit of shorthand that I thought was used sparingly enough to be effective. 

Amy Fucking Adams. She’s holding on so hard, so desperately to the idea of who her son could have been, rather than the reality of who he was, and she is full of such deep pain that is masked by an almost endless supply of patience with Evan and relentless positivity. All this made me want was Enchanted 2 even worse than I already did. 

Super into everything Zoe wears - the costuming department did a great job, and now all I want to do is live in mom jeans and baggy sweaters.

Did I Cry? I teared up a couple of times because I’m not a completely heartless bastard and when Amy Adams offered Evan Connor’s college money, my heart broke for the lie Evan had thrust upon her, and Julianne Moore’s song got me good, because she’s just a single mom to Evan who is doing her goddamn best. 

Things I hated more than the time I dropped a frozen gallon container of fruit cocktail on my pinkie toe in my parents’ garage and it turned black and I thought it was gonna fall off:

Ben Platt is 28 years old. He originated the role of Evan Hansen on Broadway, so in many respects it makes sense that he plays the role in the movie, except for the one kinda sorta important thing where he looks like a wizened old crone standing amongst a sea of children doing his best twitching, cringing Hunchback of Notre Dame impression. If you want someone to convincingly play 20 years their junior, hire Paul Rudd. Otherwise, please don’t ask me to believe that this supposed 18-year-old has crow’s feet. 

And that twitching nervous energy is a huge part of the black hole at the center of this film - he’s playing to the cheap seats and walking through the halls of his high school like a wet chihuahua. It’s an excruciating acting choice to watch - he doesn’t just have anxiety, he is on the verge of a nervous breakdown seemingly every second of every day. Like honestly, where is only-mentioned-never-seen Dr. Sherman, because this young man’s meds are NOT WORKING DR. SHERMAN. 

There’s such a lack of self-awareness on behalf of the writing, directing, and performance by Platt. There’s one song, “Sincerely, Me,” that offers the only glimpse of commentary about what Evan is doing, by pointing out the malicious ridiculousness of him writing a series of fake emails as proof of his and Connor’s friendship. 

Also what high schoolers email this much?? I know this was written in probably 2014 or so, but has a bitch never heard of a text? Even a DM? This whole plot is constructed around the premise that high schoolers are just constantly, constantly emailing each other. 

Everything - and I mean EV-ER-Y-THING - about Evan’s relationship with Zoe is so creepy and disturbing that with a soundtrack change, this could easily be a horror movie. He attempts to get her to like him by describing to her all the things her brother noticed about her - oh wait, I’m sorry, all the things HE noticed about her while he was skulking in the shadows following her around for years, watching every move she made, and it ends with him singing repeatedly “I LOVE YOU” because following a girl around and never having a conversation with her or knowing her at all is love, right? This was clearly written by the same people who chose “Every Breath You Take” as their wedding song because Sting is hot and they never actually listened to the damn words. 

And it gets about 10 billion times worse when Zoe goes to Evan’s house alone, takes him up to his room, and sings “I don’t need reasons to want you” and that was the moment I was that person I hate in a movie theater and I pulled out my phone to Google who wrote the music and lyrics to the musical (we were in the back row of the theater no one was behind me THIS WAS AN OUTRAGE EMERGENCY) and of motherfucking course it was written by Benj Pasek and Justin Paul, 2 men who heard about meeting an actual human woman from a friend one time but otherwise are unfamiliar with the concept. 

Lastly, enormous serial killer vibes from Evan sending unlabeled flash drives anonymously through the mail with no note in an attempt to right his wrongs. That’s not catharsis, that’s how the next installment in the Saw franchise starts, with Evan in a Billy the clown doll mask showing up on the screen and asking if you want to play a fucking game. 

Also, I know it’s not possible for the narrative to justify this in a way that could be satisfying based on Evan’s actions, but what is with this thing where single working-class mom Julianne Moore is turning down rich people’s money for Evan to go to college? Like, obviously we can’t have that happen in the movie but in real life, fuck your pride! Take those rich people’s money!

I also know how movies work but nothing annoys me more than a giant group of high schoolers all getting beeps and boops to indicate text notifications all at the same time because I don’t know a single person under the age of 55 who keeps their ringer on. That shit is on vibrate AT MOST, and I feel like that’s a millennial thing. 

The emotional climax of the film is obviously Evan’s WAY TOO LATE confession, but the idea that it’s prompted by Connor’s family suddenly getting a lot of internet hate is, frankly, laughable. If Sandy Hook taught me one thing, it is that no tragedy is immune from trolls who live only to cause other people devastating emotional pain on the internet. That shit starts day 1. Apparently no one involved in this production has ever been on Twitter?

Also it feels like there should have been a dog somewhere in this movie and there was no dog, so points off for that too. 

Perhaps Dear Evan Hansen isn’t nearly as deep as it aspires to be. Perhaps it’s a morality play, a simplistic message of “Don’t lie, kids, lying is bad!” Major studio movies wrap themselves up with a nice bow at the end so everyone can feel good about themselves and leave with a happy ending, but the moronic cruelty on display here makes that feat feel impossible. We’re left with Evan in an orchard, reading Connor’s favorite books and staring into the big blue sky with all the self-actualization he’s earned now as a lil treat. And if Evan Hansen looked like an actual 18-year-old, it would be a lot easier to extend more empathy to him and his not-fully-developed prefrontal cortex, but it’s a little harder with this fully-grown, weathered man who was old enough to remember seeing Liar Liar in theaters. 

Dear Evan Hansen, 

Get some actual help and a haircut and maybe you can grow up enough to have an actual healthy interaction with any other living person, ever.

Sincerely, 

Me

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[tweedlydumbtweedlydoo]

a Long Lunch | Javier Peña x reader

Requested by anon / Summary: You go missing for a few hours and it worries Javier. // You and Javier are dating in this. It’s not specifically mentioned in the story. 

A/N: this is my first Javier Peña x reader request. woop woop. Thank you for requesting! I hope you enjoy! xx also, sorry if there is any mistakes 

Tag list is at the end. Let me know if you want to be added xx

**MASTERLIST**

Requests: {OPEN} CLOSED

** Rules for Requesting **

** Who I Write For **

********************************************************************************************NOT MY GIF, CREDIT TO OWNERS 

“Javi, I’m going to get lunch.” You say grabbing your purse from the drawer in your desk. 

Javier put out his cigarette in the ashtray on his desk, switching the phone to his other ear, “Huh?” 

“I said I’m going to get lunch.” You repeat, walking over to his desk, “You coming?” 

He shook his head, pointing to the phone, “Possibly a lead. You go ahead.” 

You nodded and headed on your way. You were new to Columbia and learning the streets had become a challenge but anytime you went out Javier had been with you, making sure you got where you needed to go and make sure you were safe. You were thankful of his company and it made you feel better about walking the streets, but you knew this would have to happen eventually. Javier couldn’t be with you 24/7. 

It was around noon, the streets couldn’t be that bad at this time. Your gun was holstered to your hip and you gripped your purse tightly in your hands. As you turned a corner, you ran right into a group of guys. You just had to make a wrong turn down the wrong alley. 

~ 

Javier ended his phone call about an hour after you left, “y/n can you-” When he looked up at your desk he expected you to be sitting there but your desk was vacant. He read his watch; it was past one o clock. You’d been gone for an hour and should have been back by now. Lunch was only for 30 mins. 

“Hey, Steve, you seen y/n?” 

Steve shook his head, “Thought you guys were going to lunch?” 

“I had a phone call, she went on without me.” He glanced at his watch again. 

“Uh..” Steve started, “Does she even know where she was going?” 

“I don’t know, I showed her a couple places around the corner so she wouldn’t get lost.” You’d been investigating a new lead on a cartel member and his mind wandered to a dark place. Shit, had you dug too deep? 

“Shit man, what if she dug too deep in investigating Velano?” 

Steve sat there for a moment, pondering the thought and then quickly stood, “Shit.” He grabbed his coat off the back of his chair, “let’s check all the places you’ve shown her nearby. If she’s who I think she is, she wouldn’t go somewhere she’s never been. She likes to be prepared.” 

Javier nodded, “There’s a few places I can think of. We can walk from here.” 

~ 

Javier and Steve went to the three places, but there was no sign of you anywhere. They’d asked the workers at the restaurants if they’d seen you, but no one had seen you come in. 

“Man, I got a bad feeling about this.” Javier nervously pulls a cigarette out and puts it to his lips, “Fuck! I should have gone with her.” 

“Look, let me call the hospitals, see if she’s been admitted or something.” Steve offers. 

“You can’t speak a shit of spanish.” Javier blows out smoke, “No ones going to say shit over the phone.” 

“Okay then we go to the hospital.” 

~ 

The two arrive at the hospital and head straight for the front desk of the emergency room. 

Javier begins asking the woman in spanish if she’d seen someone of your description, but the lady was confused and went off to do something else for someone. 

“fucking hell.” Javier scans the large room, “She can’t speak a shit of spanish either man,” He runs a hand through his hair, “This is all my fault. I should have gone with her. The phone call wasn’t even good lead.” 

“Don’t blame yourself for this. You don’t know what’s happened to her. You may just be freaking yourself out.” 

Javier begins walking the halls, “I told her to stop digging, but she just kept on.” He peeked around multiple curtains and resulted to calling your name. 

About the 5th curtain he pulled back, he finally found you. You were laying in the bed with a doctor stitching your forehead. He could see your lip was busted too. 

“Javier, Steve.” You let out a sigh of relief and winced as the guy continued to stitch. “Sit still.” The doctor ordered as he finished the last stitch. 

“What the hell happened?” Javier questioned coming to your side, "We were fucking worried sick!” 

“I got mugged. They took everything and I had no way of calling you guys. I didn’t know the number.” Tears brimmed, “I couldn’t speak spanish. No one knew what I was trying to say.” 

Steve muttered something about asking the doctor if you could leave and closed the curtain behind him. 

“I’m sorry.” You whispered softly. You felt horrible for worrying Javier. 

He shakes his head, leaning down to kiss the side of your head, “God I was worried sick. I thought Velano made you and killed you.” His lips lingered a little longer on your head. He was just grateful you were okay. 

“It’s just a busted lip and cut on the forehead.. I’m okay Javi.” 

“Do you remember who the men were? Where were you? I’ll get your stuff back. Rough them up a bit.” 

You waved him off, “Those men are probably long gone.” You winced as you laid your head back, “I just want to go home.” you gave his hand a squeeze. 

~ 

Javier held your waist as the two of you made it up the stairs of the apartment complex. You were a little woozy from the pain meds. “Stay with me for the time being.” 

You hummed as a response, giving a soft nod. 

He lead you toward his apartment and inside toward his bed, “No more you going off by yourself.” 

“I have to get used to it, Javi. You aren’t going to be there all the time.” You sighed as you climbed into bed and Javier pulled your shoes off. 

“Well for the time being, you aren’t going to be by yourself.” He pulls the covers up to you, “I didn’t like feeling like I did today. Not knowing where you were. If you’d been killed or not.” He started to walk away but you pleaded for him to stay with you. 

He didn’t think twice about slipping off his shoes and climbing into the vacant space next to you. He wrapped his arm around you as you laid your head on his chest, “I love you Javi.” You whispered before drifting off to sleep. 

His heart skipped a beat. You two had never shared that before, but you were probably just loopy off the meds. However, that didn’t stop him from whispering it back to you and meaning it, “I love you too..” 

All my works tag list:  @blossomreed​ , @mggstyles  , @simonsbluee​ , @thewolf-and-thesheep​ , @obxrafejjwhore​ , @abbiesthings​ , @itstaskeen​ , @reniescarlett​

***I only have taglists for characters and/or the shows, not specific taglists for different stories because it got too confusing. So you guys will be tagged in all my Narcos (Javier Peña) works. If you would like to be taken off the taglist now or on down the road, just let me know :) xx 

Narcos tag list: @neymarlionelmessi7 , @weirdowithnobeardo​ , @1950schick​ , @xremember-me-notx​ , @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked​ , @jamielovesbucky​ , @farfromjustordinary​ , @lesbianlena​ , @harrys-stan​

[depressedacadamia]

Drunken Dares

Prompt + paring: Tattoo Parlour au, ‘night’ + Solangelo 

A/N:  Hellooo- i had the choice between a tattoo parlour au or a flowershop au but I'm already writing a pjo flowershop au so I thought I'd spice it up with a tattoo parlour au! I kinda wanted there to be a part two becuase I wanted a bit of bonding between the two so maybe if i remember, that may happen? Anyway- enjoy  <3 from phi phi!

Read on A03         Writersmonth 2021       Masterlist

“Do I really have to do this?” Will groaned slightly. It was late at night and here Meg was, pushing him in a tattoo parlour.

“Yep!” She hummed as she pushed him forward.He tripped over his own foot as he flung through the double doors. He was about to continue reluctantly before realising the short minion who had forced him here was no longer by his side.

He turned around and frowned. “ Meg? Why aren’t you coming in?”

“I’m underage,” She hummed.

“You know you can just stand to the side?” Will asked, a slightly desperate undettone to his statement which Meg noticed. He was begging her not to leave him in the scary dark tattoo parlour which was full of buff, scary people.

“Sorry- but I must not break the law!”

“Last week you happily started trying to drive my car!” Will yelled at the glass doors. Alas, his yells were ignored as Meg blissfully ignored him as she continued her walk home, leaving William Andrew Solace in a tattoo parlour.

What was he meant to do?Walk up to the guy at the counter and tell him that he wanted a tattoo? He should have never gotten drunk and played truth or dare- he should have known that the first thing Leo would dare him would be to taint his beautiful freckled skin. The worst part ultimately was the fact that he had to get it on his chest.

Perhaps the gods above saw Will’s freak out or perhaps Leo was simply being extra nice when he saw Will in the middle of the parlour looking so out of place it was painful but either way, the next thing Will knew, he was being taken by the wrist towards the counter by none other than Leonidas Valdez; the very bastard who had gotten him into this mess.

“I’m surprised you actually came,” Leo commented.

“Meg forced me,” Will grunted.

“So,” Leo sighed as he tapped at the cigarette in between his fingers, “ Do you know what you’re getting?”

“Uhh… no, not really., How does this work? You tell them what you want and then they stab at your body with a needle?”

Leo let out a small scoff which had smoke billowing out of his lips and nose as if he was a chimney. “ No, darling- they shave, sanitise and then they stab at your body with a needle.”

“That made me feel so much better.”

Ignoring the evident sarcasm, Leo simply smiled. “ You’re welcome, blondie.”

Wil, ruffling at his hair, mumbled, “Shut up.”

Leo, who was significantly enjoying teasing Will, was cut off by Piper- one of the last people Will expected to see at the tattoo parlor. But on a second look, the tattoos on her abdomen spiraling up to her breasts and arms made Will wonder why he never noticed them.

“Oh Will- you’re actually here?” Piper's surprised voice rang out.

“Unfortunately.”

“Well the artist is ready for you,” Piper ushered him towards the dark room, only illuminated by the UV lights.

Will visibly gulped. Leo and Piper couldn’t help but interlock eyes and snort a little- after all, it was simply adorable at how nervous this newbire was.

Will took small steps and the second he passed the door, it slammed shut.

What the fuck- do the doors here have a mind of their own?

“Come in- take a seat,” A voice commanded. Will, who didn’t really have any choice but to listen to what he was being told, fumbled around, trying to figure out where he was meant to be going. It seemed that Will, in his internal chaos, did not notice the tattoo artist's leg propped up to the side and therefore, when Will finally did notice the leg- it had been the hard way.

He tripped and the next thing he knew, his wrist had made a new best friend. Bruised and swollen, Will’s wrist heavily ached- forcing him to let out a small groan of pain.

“Fuck, are you okay?” the voice rang out. Will heard a relative amount of fumbling and heavy footsteps and suddenly the room was flooded with light.

The face that he was met with was not one he was expecting. The boy had mid length hair- while it wasn’t really long, it was flowing over the nape of his neck slightly and it looked like it really got in the way of his eyes. He watched as the boy seperated the pieces of hair covering his eyes, creating an effortless look.

His face radiated an emotion that Will couldn’t describe- sadness? Or was it simply the face of someone who was content with little?

“Are you okay?” The man asked. Will watched- he had never seen such dynamic expressions and the way this man's face morphed into an expression of concern had him wrapt with all.

Will could only nod stupidly, his hand still clutching at his bruised wrist.

“Dya mind if I have a look at that anyway?” The artist insisted as he grabbed a med kit and sat on his spinning chair before wheeling himself towards Will who now sat on the chair that he was originally appointed.

He gently cradled Will’s wrist between his fingers, turning it round and round. His face contorted between emotion of worry and concern.

“It’s okay,” Will re-assured . “ It’s not sprained or broken, just a bit of bruising and swelling. Should be gone by tomorrow morning.”

“You sure?”

“I’m a doctor.”

“Ah,” He smiled slightly. “ I shouldn’t question you, Dr..?”

“Solace- but Will is fine. How about you?”

“Nico- Now let's have a look at what you want huh?” He closed the notebook he had been creating designs in before Will walked in and pulled out a collection of the most popular designs so far.

“These are the trending ones currently but I can always pull out something else if you want. Or if you have your own design that you wanted, I can try with it,” Nico offered. He pulled out a cigarette and flicked his lighter.- once, twice and a third time before grunting and pulling out a different one. Will watched, hypnotized, as Nico lit the cigarette.

Nico looked up and caught Will staring and shyly asked. “ You don’t mind do you?”

“No… but you should try and refrain from smoking. It’s really, really bad for you and I say this as a doctor.”

“You’re the 4th person today who has said that.”

“I’m alarmed that you managed to smoke that many times today,” Will said with concern.

Ignoring what Will had said, Nico continued. “Anyway, have you chosen anything yet?”

Will let out a heavy breath. “ Ah, no. My friends kinda forced me here but nothing here really matches… me.”

“What about this flower? Or the skull? “

Will shrugged. “ I don't think I’d want those on my skin permanently”

Nico nodded and continued smoking, while Will flipped through the latest designs. Nothing seemed to catch his eye as much as something he could have sworn he saw earlier. It was a stylised sun tatoo- nothing necessarily special but it reminded him of his mum- and his home.

“Excuse me,” Wil started, causing Nico to put his cigarette down in the ashtray, “ I was just wondering if the designs in that were available?”

Will pointed to the notebook That Nico had closed earlier. He watched as Nico hesitated. His face seemed to be stuck between wanting to let Will sneak a peek but it also seemed to want to tell him to stop.

However, his hand simply made up his mind and shoved the book across the table in Will’s direction.

Daintily, with the utmost care, Will opened the first page and his eyes almost watered at the immense detail and beauty poured into these designs. It looked like the heart and soul of the artist had been etched into every little petal, every small ray and eventually after gaping at each page he found the design he had spotted earlier.

The sun wasn’t special but it held Will’s eyes so much that Nico told him, “ Close your mouth. You’re practically drooling.”

“This one,” Will pointed to the stylised sun, “ I want this one.”

Nico scanned his eyes over it before humming and nodding. He put out his cigarette and got up.

“Where d'ya want it?”

“Chest- left side,” Will blurted out. He didn’t know why he wanted it there- perhaps because he wanted the thing that reminded him of his mother to be as close to his heart as possible.

Nico nodded as he prepared everything. Then he turned to Will. “ You realise you’ll need to take off your shirt?”

Will blushed and looked away as he started unbuttoning the top of his shirt. Meg had dragged him out of the hospital as soon as his shift had ended and thrown him into the tattoo parlour and therefore he was still wearing a crisp white shirt.

“Do I need to take off the whole thing?”

Nico took a quick look at Will. The sight that met his eyes was surprising- he used to seeing the chest of his clients but for some reason the sight of a very attractive and intelligent young man before him was very different. He seemed to be looking away as a blush graced his cheeks and ears. His shirt was unbuttoned just enough for Nico to see Will’s muscled chest.

How did a doctor have enough time to work out like that?

“Uh... just a bit more, I don’t want the needle to catch on the side of your shirt.” Nico reiterated, even though he was lying.

“Okay, so now, I'm just going to clean the area and then I’ll trace the sketch before tattooing it on. Do you want red or black?”

“Uh- you can choose,” Will sighed, desperate to get it done and over with.

Nico nodded. He slipped on some gloves and wiped at Will’s chest with an antiseptic. Will flinched at the cold wipe and the soft touch of the artist before him .

“Sorry,” Will murmured, “ It’s cold.”

Nico simply nodded as he began sketching the outline of the tattoo. Will tipped his head back, unable to meet the eyes of Nico ro even look at what was happening. He could feel the tickly touch of the pen on his skin and the soft brush of Nico’s glove on his skin every once in a while.

“All done. Now for the painful part. You may feel like you’re getting stung by a bee a lot,” Nico warned. “Try not move a lot, it will make it harder for me.”

Will, who couldn’t formulate words at this point, simply nodded. “I’d let you squeeze my hand, but unfortunately- I need both,” Nico smiled as reassurance.

He heard the buzzing of the gun and braced himself. The needle poked and prodded as he expected and at times he did wish he had stolen some morphine from the hospital beforehand but all in all, he managed to get the tattoo without bursting into tears and without ruining hids tattoo.

“All done,'' Nico said as he covered the tattoo.

“When do I get to see it?” Will asked, curiously, happier that it was over.

“In a few days- it just needs to sink in.”

Wil sat there, unsure of what to do next. He had paid and was now just sitting in an empty room with his tattoo artist. Was he meant to just say goodbye? Wasn't that kind of harsh?

But Will realised, had this been anybody else or any other appointment- he wouldn't want to be staying for any extra time. Did he want to be friends with this guy? Maybe it was that- yes, it would be that. As someone who was socially awkward, Will knew that he liked hanging out with people; he simply wasn't very good at it

Just as he was going to ask for his number, Nico passed him a slip of paper. “ Here’s my number. Call me when you’re free.”

With that and a wink, Will was left in the empty tattoo room.

[jokerscrazybrilliant]

Survive - Chapter 3 - (Captain Rex)

Chapter 1 · Chapter 2 · Chapter 3 · Chapter 4

Story on other platforms:

A03 · Quotev

________

Not for the first time in my life, I found myself in the middle of a war. But not the kind of war I was used to. It all began when I wiped the training mat with Fives' face in front of all his brothers. This led to him serving me a cup of caf which I thought was a peace offering but turned out to be not entirely caf. Kix ended up having to pump my stomach and spent an hour lecturing both Fives and I on the dangers of consuming anything that goes in a battleship engine, no matter how much either party might've deserved it. Since I couldn't have Fives one upping me, I ended up sneaking into his barracks and shaving off most of his beard, making him look utterly ridiculous and having him walk around with his bucket on for most of the time until it grew back. He then returned the blow by breaking into my quarters while I was away and painting his signature five on all my clothes. I did not confront him, instead borrowing some standard issue blacks to wear until I could get more robes with the next supply run. But carefully, I plotted my revenge. "I thought revenge wasn't the Jedi way?" Kix commented while searching for the necessary tools for the operation. "Let's call it justice then. You gonna help me do this or not?" I raised a brow at him. "Of course." I smiled deviously. "Then let's get to work!"

***

The plan was set in motion. I was grinning, quite proud of myself as I sat, eagerly watching the doors in the ship’s mess hall, surrounded by the usual group of idiots. I had informed everyone in the squadron notto touch the caf machine today, and even with the numerous displeased grumblings and complaints, everyone was on board with the plan. Everyone except for Fives, of course. “Nim, are you even listening to me?” A voice insisted on drawing my attention away from the mess entrance.

“Not really Echo, why, have you said something important?”

He sighed, shaking his head in amusement. “I guess not.”

“I hope Fives gets here soon, I’m tired of waiting and I have to get to the med-bay soon.” Kix complained, pushing away his empty tray.

“Speak for yourself, I only just got here.” Echo said, shoveling food into his mouth as if to prove his point.

I grinned at the boys’ usual antics before turning back to look at the newest arrival, who was making his way to the caf machine. My eyes grew wide in realization as Rex went to press the button. Everyone but the captain! I stared in shock, my mouth about to form a shout before his hand made contact with the machine, electrocuting him immediately. He yelped in surprise, staggering backwards before composing himself quickly.

Turning around slowly to face the mess full of soldiers that had just witnessed what happened, his face was a combination of emotions as he searched the faces in front of him. “Alright, which one of you boys is responsible for this?! Fess up!”

It was chaos. Kix was giggling like a mad schoolchild beside me, and Echo had his face in his arms while trying not to choke on his food from across the table. Fives, who had stepped into the mess hall at the most opportune moment, was heaving on the floor, tears in his eyes as he took in the situation, obviously knowing it was I who was at fault. The other men were at varying degrees of delight, some simply laughing, while others, like hardcase, were shouting in joy, slapping the table loudly.

I was silent, face stonelike as I rose from my seat. “It was me captain, I am so sorry, it wasn’t meant for you – It was meant for that bitching lunatic!” I lost my composure as I pointed at Fives, only making him laugh harder. “I warned everyone else but I guess I forgot to tell you.”

The captain faltered as he looked at me, temper dissipating as he raised a hand to rub his face wearily. “That’s okay commander, didn’t realize it was you.”

“You can taze me back captain, it’s only fair.” I walked up, looking from him to the caf machine earnestly.

He chuckled lightly, “That won’t be necessary.”

I shook my head adamantly, “No, it’s only fair.” I quickly stepped in front of him, jamming my hand down on the caf machine before he could say anything else, letting out a small grunt of pain at the shock as the electricity buzzed painfully through the entirety of my body. I twitched on the floor, unsure of when I had fallen. The captain stood over me, offering me his arm.

“Are you alright commander?”

“I’m alright.” I choked out, chest still constricted in pain. “I may have fried my every last brain cell, but I’m alright.” I grinned as I realized he was laughing at me. “I am glad, however, that you find this amusing.”

His laughter only increased as he helped me up to my feet. “Permission to speak freely, commander?”

“Of course.”

“Are you certain the Fives is the lunatic?” I laughed at his words.

"Oi! I just fried myself on your behalf, you ought to show me at least a little respect.” Finally, the pain subsided and I quickly became aware of all the eyes that were on us. I cleared my throat as I devised a new plan, seeing as how the old one backfired so spectacularly. "May I borrow your gun, captain?"

His eyebrows furrowed as he took it out of his holster, handing it over slowly. "I'm almost afraid to ask why?"

My eyes locked on Fives, who registered what I was thinking a moment after I answered Rex. "I owe someone a little payback."

Fives immediately turned around and bolted out of the caf, but I was right behind him, setting the weapon to stun as I went, the caf full of soldiers cheering me on. Kix followed after us to make sure neither of us killed each other, and Echo followed after him to record it on his holopad.

My chase was cut short when we ran into Master Skywalker in the hallway. Immediately, I straightened myself as if I had been taking a stroll the entire time, flashing him an innocent smile. "Anakin." I dragged the last syllable of his name in a singsong, “What can I do for you?”

"Hello Nim. If you've had your fun, we need you on the bridge for a mission debrief." His eyes roamed over all the guilty party, from Fives, who was cowering in an entryway, to Kix, who was attempting to hide behind me, to Echo, who was trying to discreetly put away his holopad, finally settling back on me with an amused grin. "I'm glad to see you're finding your place here."

I nodded with a small chuckle, relieved when he turned and walked towards the bridge ahead of me. I turned to give Fives a threatening glance on my way. "I'd watch my back if I were you." I hissed as I passed by.

We quickly made our way up to the bridge, where Ahsoka was waiting, and Captain Rex had somehow beaten us there.

Anakin wasted no time in explaining the mission to us. “We’re being sent to the Quell system to aid Master Aayla Secura. As I understand it, her Jedi cruiser is damaged beyond hope of repair, so we need to prepare a ship to dock and evacuate anyone we can. Rex, prepare the men, Snips, go with Nim and make sure that ship is ready by the time we arrive, I’ll meet you at the gunships. Let’s have some fun!”

***

Thankfully, we hadn’t been too far from Quell, so before long I was onboard a gunship with Master Skywalker, Ahsoka, and Rex, on our way to board Master Secura’s ship to help with the droids that had overtaken them.

I watched as a stream of rocket droids powered by duo jets made their way from the separatist ship to Master Secura’s, landing on the surface and cutting their way in. “Those droids are boarding Aayla’s ship!” Anakin called over the noise. One of the battle droids landed on our gunship, ripping into the cockpit. “Take care of that clanker! I’ll be onboard Aayla’s cruiser.”

“Master! Are you sure that’s the wisest thing–” Anakin ignored Ahsoka’s comment, and I watched with awe as he jumped down, landing on the back of a super droid as it made its way to the ship.

Master Diya had been a great Master who liked to encourage creativity in problem-solving scenarios, however he usually carried the stoic air you would expect from an esteemed Jedi Master, and wasn’t usually so unorthodox. Master Skywalker, as I was eagerly learning, was entirely the opposite. He faced everything as he was, an overwhelming swirl of emotions attitude and power. And he cracked jokes as he did it.

I turned to look at Ahsoka with excitement in my eyes. “Your master is fun!” I exclaimed.

“Yes, but it gets him into troub–” I missed the rest of Ahsoka’s comment, turning to leap after Anakin, eager to join the action. I managed to land on my feet on the back of a super droid, slicing it in half before hopping down onto another, and another, before finally landing on Master Secura’s ship.

I hopped down into the ship after Anakin, slicing through battle droids as we went. “I see you followed my example.”

“Couldn’t let you have all the action.” I grinned at him as we went through several more droids. Ahsoka made her entrance before long, Rex and his troops following after her. “Glad to see you could join us.” I flashed her a quick grin before deflecting a shot back at a droid, then slicing it and the one beside it.

“You shouldn’t encourage him you know.” Ahsoka teased as we made our way to Master Secura.

“I heard that!” Anakin called, taking out the final droids separating us from the Master and her troops.

“Nice entrance, Skywalker.” The Twi’lek turned to greet us. “How do you plan on getting us out of this mess?”

“I have a ship docking in the lower hangar as we speak.” Anakin responded, grunting with effort as he stabbed his lightsaber to the hilt into two droids at once.

Quickly, we led the path to the port, ship shuddering around us as it took more hits than it could bear. “We made it!” Ahsoka exclaimed, extending the docking port. We quickly ran down the corridor but an explosion sounded, making me turn to watch as Master Skywalker force pushed us out of the reach of the blast.

“It’s too late!” He turned to try to face the blast as the doors shut between us.

“Master!” Ahsoka and I shouted in shock, quickly getting up to try to find him. I opened the blast doors slightly as she searched for his form.

“I found him.” She sliced a hole in the doors and we pulled him through, quickly getting him onboard the ship so we could detach. Ahsoka and I carried Anakin to the med-pod as Master Secura headed to the bridge, hopefully to get us to dock with the Resolute.

“Ahsoka, get an oxygen mask on him while I turn on this med-droid.” I quickly gave her a task to occupy her while I fiddled with the med-droid, searching for it’s on button. “Kix is much easier to wake up.” I mumbled, recalling the pleasant memory of dousing him with ice water and wishing he were here. He’d know how to calm Ahsoka down. How to calm me down, too. I thought to myself, conscious of the unrest that surrounded the force around me.

The droid finally powered on and began working on Anakin, beginning its scans and attempting to stabilize him. I gave Ahsoka’s shoulder a little squeeze as she stood back to let the droid do its work. “He’ll be alright.”

She gave me a little nod but didn’t speak, watching her master with anxious eyes. I felt the ship shift around us, and my brows raised of their own accord. Making my way into the hall, I found Rex working on a repair panel. “Did we just jump to hyperspace?” I asked, observing how he handled his hydrospanner less than expertly.

“Not sure. Just trying to repair the shields.” He said, accidentally shocking himself and letting out a frustrated huff before trying again.

I folded my arms and leaned against the wall, watching in amusement. “Need some help there, captain?”

He turned at my teasing tone, but unfortunately his helmet obstructed whatever expression he held underneath it. “I think I’ll manage, thanks.”

I laughed as he shocked himself again, “Just let me help.” Leaning down beside him, I took the hydrospanner from him, taking his place in front of the panel as he moved to the side slightly. “Besides, you’ve been fried enough for one day.”

“Yeah, thanks for that.” He watched as I began repairing the damaged panel easily, blushing lightly as I laughed again in embarrassment.

“Sorry… It was an accident.” He chuckled at me, shaking his head.

“It’s alright, I’m just messing with you.” My grin didn’t fade as I kept working at the panel. “How are you so good at that?” He piped up after a few silent moments.

I shrugged easily, thinking I must’ve appeared to know more than I did. “I like starships.” Completing the repairs, I replaced the panel as Master Secura rushed past us, Ahsoka following her into the cockpit.

“That seemed important.” Rex commented, and I nodded as we stood to follow after them.

“Karabast.” I mumbled to myself as the flashing screen showed us heading directly for a star.

“We need to shut down all the power circuits so we can reset the coordinates.” Master Secura commanded.

“But that will cut off Anakin’s life support!” Ahsoka protested the orders.

“I don’t like it any more than you do, but it’s a risk we’re going to have to take.”

“We don’t have much time.” I interjected, preparing for being thrown out of hyperspace. “Let’s do this.”

“Switching off primary power units.” Ahsoka informed.

“Ready to shut off auxiliary power.” Master Secura said from her spot beside me.

“On three. One, two, three!” Master Secura pulled the lever, turning off the remaining power to the ship and throwing us violently out of hyperspace.

The ship shook around us and Rex, who had been attempting to hold onto the chairs in front of him, was tossed backwards, slamming into me, throwing us both against the wall and taking Master Secura with us.

“Switch the power back on! What are you waiting for?” Commander Bly shouted back at us in panic as we came up on the star.

Master Secura reached through the force, switching the lever back on just in time for us to miss the star, Rex and I crashing onto the floor as the gravity came back on. “Ow!” I complained loudly, untangling myself from him and staggering to my feet, helping him up as well.

“Sorry commander, are you alright?” He brought up his hand to the back of his helmet embarrassedly as he apologized.

“I’m fine, but man your armour hurts.” I wheezed, rubbing the bruise I could feel already forming on my side from where his elbow had slammed into me.

“Well, we’re not gonna crash into that star, but we’re definitely going to hit that planet.” Ahsoka pointed out of the viewing port in front of us. With the state our ship was in we definitely weren’t going to have a smooth landing.

Gritting my teeth, I braced myself as we began our descent into the planet’s atmosphere. The shields lasted well enough that the ship didn’t break apart until we hit the ground, flames rising around us. “Everyone out!” Rex shouted, Master Secura and Ahsoka going to get Anakin while I helped Cameron, who had been injured in our escape, out of the shipwreck.

“I – I’m alright commander, thank you.” Cameron gave me a little nod of thanks as I let go of him slowly, letting him find his way to where we would set up camp.

Commander Bly scouted the area as the other troopers set up the campfire and I helped set up a small protected area for the injured Anakin to rest in. Rex searched the ship for anything we could use but unfortunately the med-droid was damaged beyond repair.

I watched as Master Aayla and Ahsoka argued about leaving Master Anakin behind. While I understood Ahsoka’s worry, I also understood that Master Secura wanted to use this opportunity to teach the young padawan to learn to control her attachment. I could sense the anxiety Ahsoka was pouring into the force from concern over her master. I related to it, having gone through similar experiences with my own master, and when I ultimately lost him, it was excruciatingly painful. Having gone through that myself made me appreciate what Master Secura was trying to do for Ahsoka.

They seemed to have settled their dispute before coming to join the rest of the group, Commander Bly holding out a wooden carving he had found while scouting the plains around us. It showed some sort of people, surrounded by what looked like giant trees. “General Secura, look. We're not the only ones here on this planet. There has to be some kind of – something here.” Master Secura took the carving from his hands before strange guttural screeches drew our attention to our surroundings, soldiers flicking on their helmet lights, my hand drawing near my lightsaber on my belt. “That doesn’t sound too friendly.” Rex commented from next to me, gazing into the plains with his gun drawn.

“No, not at all.” I murmured. I squinted my eyes but found nothing, then opening myself to the force. I couldn’t sense anything too close, and satisfied, I stepped back to where Ahsoka kneeled in front of Anakin’s form. “Be strong, Master. Just a little bit longer. Rex and Nim will watch over you.” She told him. “It is time to go.” “Don't worry, kid. The commander and I will take good care of him.” Rex told her, helmet tucked beneath his arm. When'd he take that off? Master Secura turned to us. "Alright, both of you keep your locators on. We should be back by daybreak with whoever, or whatever, lives on this planet." "Got it, General Secura." Rex gave her a nod. “Hey, kid. Good luck." He gave Ahsoka a small smile and she returned it before they headed out in search of giant trees, and whatever help they could find.

“Hey Rex?” I spoke, still watching their retreating forms in the distance.

“Yes commander?”

“What if the trees are normal sized and the creatures are just really, really, small?” I turned to look up at him, pleased to see him grinning widely at my asinine suggestion.

“The thought had occurred to me, commander.”

I moved to sit in front of the fire, glancing at Anakin to make sure he was still breathing. “Are you really going to keep calling me that? No one else does.”

“Doesn’t matter to me what everybody else does, sir.”

I nodded sagely at this. “I respect that. I just wish it didn’t mean you kept calling me ‘commander’.” I kidded lightly, grinning as he sat down near me. “Fives didn’t even bother trying with that.” I chuckled, thinking of how easily Fives had abandoned all protocol when we became such quick friends.

There was silence between us for a while, and I could see him mulling something over in his mind before he turned to look at me, finally speaking up. "I’ve been meaning to say, commander, that I’ve noticed the way you treat the troopers in our battalion. Like they're your equals. That kind of treatment... It's rare. And it means a lot to those men. It means a lot to me. So, thank you." I glanced away from him for a moment, trying to maintain my composure and stop the flush from creeping into my cheeks, before turning back. "I know that what we're fighting for is important but sometimes... I can't help but feel like they deserve more. Deserve better. I see someone like Kix and – he's such a dreamer. The fact that war is the only life he's ever known, it just doesn't seem fair."

"All due respect sir, but we were bred for the sole purpose of this war." The firelight reflected in his golden eyes, giving them a fervour I’d never seen before. I nodded. "I know. But you're still people." He held my gaze meaningfully before turning to look into the fire in front of us. "You're one of very few who see it that way." He shook his head, lost in thought as he stared into the crackling flames, and I resisted the urge to say anything else. “You should rest, commander. I’ll take first watch.”

I shook my head at him. “I’ll take first watch, you rest!”

He huffed out a chuckle at my stubbornness. “While I appreciate the sentiment, I know I hit you pretty hard back there.” I immediately stopped nursing the bruise on my side. I should’ve known he would notice it. “You should rest it off for a bit, then I’ll have my turn.” He pushed before I could protest that it was nothing.

Sighing, I stood up and found a small area across the campfire from him. “Fine. But don’t let me sleep too long.” I lay down on the uncomfortable dirt and tried to find some peace in the silence of the nature around me.

***

A low predatory growl in the distance woke me before the nightmares could, and I bolted awake, holding my lightsaber at the ready.

“Everything alright, commander?” Rex asked from opposite the campfire.

I scanned the plains in front of us carefully. “Something’s out there.” I spoke quietly.

“Clankers?” I shook my head and he turned to see if he could spot anything.

“Something else. A creature of some kind I’d guess. And it’s not alone.” I got in a defensive stance, my back to Rex and his back to mine as we stood protectively in front of where the injured Anakin lay.

A large creature jumped at me from the shadows, and quickly I activated my lightsaber, slashing it, causing it to take a few steps back. I could make out a fierce beak, a dark feathery mane, and four taloned feet. It tried to swipe at me again, but I slashed it again, this time successfully cutting into the flesh of its leg, causing it to whimper and run off as I heard blaster shots behind me.

Whirling around, I found another of those creatures standing over Rex. It had him completely pinned down even as he tried to get a shot on it. Quickly jumping over it to land near its face, I slashed at its beak, and it backed off immediately, running after its counterpart.

“Are you okay?” I extended an arm to Rex, and he took it, nodding at me gratefully as he got to his feet.

“I’m fine, but those things will be coming back. And I’ll bet they’ll bring their friends with them.”

I nodded in agreement, staring after the creatures. “I hope the others are doing alright out there.” Quietly we sat back down, more vigilant than before as we waited for whomever returned first, the creatures or our friends.

***

It was well into the next day before we saw any more action. Rex was walking around the perimeter again when Anakin awoke, grunting as he tried to sit up. I quickly tried to get him to lie back down. “Master, you need to rest!”

“I can’t rest. They’re coming.” I helped him stand and turned as I sensed the creatures from the previous night approaching.

“Rex!” I shouted him a warning and he responded immediately, gun drawn as the two creatures stepped into the clearing. Rex managed to shoot the first one down before it could do any damage but the other one pounced on him, knocking him down before heading for me and Master Skywalker. I quickly tried to put myself between him and the creature and push us both out of its path as it charged. It overshot us and quickly found its bearings, preparing to charge again before a small furry being jumped into the clearing, tying a rope around the large beast’s legs and trying to pull, attempting to trip it.

Ahsoka followed it into the circle, and I turned to Anakin, figuring the others had a handle on things. “Are you alright, Master?” I asked him, laying him down gently and checking him over to look for any additional wounds.

He hacked out a cough before responding. “I’m doing great, can’t you tell?” I grinned at his signature sarcasm, glad he was well enough to find his wit.

“Of course, Master Anakin.”

“Master!” Ahsoka ran up to us, having successfully dealt with the large beast, and knelt next to Anakin, seeming relieved to be back by his side.

“Good to see you, Snips.” I smiled and backed off to give them privacy before we loaded Anakin onto a stretcher to carry him to whatever civilization Ahsoka had found.

Turning to find Rex cradling his arm, I raised a brow in concern. “That thing got you?”

“Just a scratch.” He shrugged it off, moving to stand next to me as we watched the creature who arrived with Ahsoka introduce himself to Master Skywalker as Wag Too in Basic.

“I guess those trees really were giant.”

“I guess they were.”