#i told my parents it was fucking stupid to take my brother off his meds like that

[thedisablednaturalist]

Just being around my family stresses me out. Which in turn causes my pain levels to rise. Everyone is so nasty to each other. I can't ask for help without being ridiculed so I just have to fight through the pain to make my dinner. And then I have to flee to my room or risk being chastised for the unhealthiness of whatever I manage to make before falling over. I just needed to eat a safe food that was quick, filling, and didn't trigger my nausea. But because box mac and cheese will make me fat my mom has to tear me apart over it. Also I only ate 1.5 meals today because my mom gets mad when I'm in the kitchen.

And the bathrooms? My brother spends 20 minutes taking a sink bath every half hour in the bathroom across from my room, so I have to use my parents bathroom if I don't get to it in time. I try to pee quickly but I have to pee frequently due to fibromyalgia bladder. My mom yells at me for using "her" bathroom. "Go downstairs!" she yells. Why can't my able-bodied brother go downstairs to take his sink baths then?? why do I have to painfully crawl down the stairs every time I want to take a piss?? Also he does this in the middle of the night too which wakes me up. Don't get me started on him filling the toilet with shit and not flushing so the smell wafts into my room 🤢

Oh and god forbid I have to take my weekly shower. Then EVERYONE is mad at me for "hogging the bathroom". I only shower once or twice a week due to pain and both my brothers literally showering twice a day (thus no hot water, it's impossible to take a cold shower with fibro). I have to fight to get a timeslot. And then my mom makes fun of me for looking "unkempt".

But according to everyone IM the bully, IM overreacting. My mom "almost died to birth me" so her behavior gets excused. My one brother has severe autism/OCD and my parents dont do anything to help or manage it so his needs are always above mine since I'm able to "push past it" (re: forced). Fun fact the "witch doctor" my parents took my brother to cut off my brothers meds cold turkey this week so its all been 200x worse due to withdrawal (who the fuck cuts someone off of WELLBUTRIN AND ZOLOFT cold turkey????).

I keep telling myself its only a few more weeks but I still haven't heard back about my housing application being approved and I'm getting worried.

How am I supposed to live, let alone work, in this environment?

[lepusrufus]

Double edged scalpel ch.6

ch.1 ch.2 ch.3 ch.4 ch.5

Summary: It's backstory time!

Mandatory warning since this is not a usual thing on my blog so I think a separate warning would be useful, there will be talk of past abuse and alcohol abuse.

----

"Wakey wakey," came the gruff voice from just outside her bedroom door.

It was slightly muffled but more than enough to make her jolt awake, muscle memory taking over the remnants of sleep. She only had one minute to be out the door. It was more than enough though, her routine perfected over years. Get out of bed. Put socks on. Get shoes. Grab the duffel bag. She slept dressed anyways, ready to go at any time.

Or not?

Where were her clothes?

Nevermind that she had time to put something on. Just grab a shirt and pants from the dresser.

Hurried steps took her over the plush carpet. Wasn't it supposed to be a solid grey? Had her mother swapped it for one of their fancier rugs?

That didn't matter right now. Clothes. She needed clothes. When she got to her dresser she stood there, frowning at the bookshelf that now took its place. She didn't even remember acquiring the tomes in front of her, most of them old and with unfamiliar trinkets surrounding them. That's not how her bedroom was arranged. Why wasn't anything in its place? Was Alex playing a prank on her? No, he wouldn't do that.

Time was almost up and she needed some goddamn clothes and to get out and her head was starting to spin-

"Nicole?"

Her eyes snapped back to the bed she had so hastily vacated, Cassandra looking at her concerned.

From the room's entrance came another familiar voice. Bela. "I only wanted to let you know that Daniela wants to go for a hunt tomorrow." Her eyes were averted and as soon as the words left her lips, she turned and shut the door behind her, not waiting for an answer from her sister.

Confusion mixed in with dizziness, but Nicole let out a quiet oh when she fully realized where she was. Cassandra's bedroom. They came here last night and fell asleep. And she was only wearing underwear.

She went to sit on the edge of the bed, head resting in her hands to try alleviate the fog in her brain. She probably looked like hell, but that was the least of her concerns right now.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Came the uncharacteristically soft voice of Cassandra, who had moved from her spot under the blankets and was gently rubbing her back.

"Uh, nothing," Nicole replied, as if she didn't look ready to puke.

Cassandra only pursed her lips and frowned. "You looked like you simultaneously saw a ghost and were ready to fight a ghost."

She swallowed thickly and forced out a laugh. "Oh are we at "tragic backstory" relationship level now?" It was at best a pathetic attempt to change the subject and at worst annoying.

When she looked back at the brunette she was still frowning, but not in annoyance. Her golden eyes sparked with concern, scrutinizing the redhead's face and body language for any clue as to what was wrong. It sent a pang of guilt through Nicole's chest. She took a deep breath and leaned back into Cassandra's touch, trying to collect her thoughts. Where does one even begin to explain this whole mess?

"Have you ever wondered why I came here? To the village?"

"...Not really," she admitted.

Nicole took another deep breath, pulling the words from her mouth as if she were pulling out teeth with pliers.

"My dad, he…he had a bit of a weird business. We never knew the details of it, he never told any of us and we knew better than to snoop, but I do know it had something to do with drugs and was highly illegal."

Staying in one place proved itself a pesky little task, so Nicole stood up and started to collect her clothes from the floor and started dressing. Cassandra instead remained in the same spot, listening intently.

"With a job like that you make enemies by default. And that made him paranoid beyond belief. When me and Alex, my older brother, were children it wasn't that bad. Worst thing he would do was lock our bedroom doors and refuse to let us attend public school."

She narrowed her eyes at a wall, still not wanting to meet Cassandra's gaze. Now that she said it out loud, not that bad sounded pretty bad too. Whatever.

"It started going downhill when I was around…" She pursed her lips, trying to make her brain put together some semblance of a timeline. "Twelve. Yeah twelve. He came bursting into our bedrooms at 2 a.m. saying that someone with a gun had gotten into our house and wanted to kill us. We were mortified. I remember my mom holding me and Alex in the backseat crying while my dad drove us to his secluded cabin in the woods."

"And that became a habit of his. He'd have us do these drills every once in a while and then scream at us if we didn't do everything in under a minute."

"That's so fucking stupid," Cassandra spat, golden eyes gleaming with anger.

Nicole started pacing back and forth, desperate for a distraction. "Oh I know. And after a few years of this I made sure to tell him exactly how much I thought it was bullshit."

Finally coming to terms with the lack of something to do while she talked, Nicole gave up and went back to the bed. She sat down by Cassandra's side, though still avoiding her eyes.

"Do you know what getting punched in the face feels like?"

Cassandra's expression contorted into a disgusted grimace. With the hand not on Nicole's back rubbing comforting circles, she dug talons into the soft fabric of a blanket. She didn't really have an answer because frankly she didn't know. Her body reacted very differently to physical harm and the few that could hurt her wouldn't go for a stupid punch to the face. Nicole kept on talking though, not really looking for an answer.

"That shut me up for a bit. Key word a bit. When he woke me up on the night before an important test I was pissed. I just thought fuck it and went upstairs to the library. It took him around twenty minutes to find me and when he did… Well, I regretted some life choices."

"I was so done with being there in that house. Though thankfully my parents went on a business trip the next day and Alex was at a friend's for the weekend. I had the whole house to myself and decided to grab one of my mom's vintage wines and just spend the evening on the couch drinking. And that's how I became an alcoholic at the ripe old age of fifteen." She let out a humorless chuckle at the end.

That day was a blur in her mind. The only thing that she vividly remembered was Alex coming home early and finding her blackout drunk on the couch. At the end of the day though, they were both in the same boat. He just grabbed the bottle from her and started to sip away at the remaining wine. Laughing at each other's hangover the next day was the most fun they'd had in ages so it became a habit for the both of them. Every once in a while they'd go into the wine cellar, pick out a bottle and then go drink it in the attic while they pretended their problems didn't exist. It continued well into their college years. Nicole was barely able to recall doing anything during her years in med school that wasn't being drunk or studying.

She groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. That's not where she meant to go with the story. Cassandra placing a gentle kiss on her shoulder brought her enough comfort to try and wrap it up.

"I guess in a sick ironic way my dad was right in the end though," she subconsciously shifted closer to the brunette and she wasted no time in loosely wrapping her arms around Nicole's waist.

"I was three weeks away from completing my residency when I came home from the lab, only to find my mom in a puddle of blood on the living room floor. My brother was in a similar state in his bedroom. My dad was nowhere to be found but I didn't care. It was his fault," she swallowed the lump in her throat and felt tears threatening to spill from her eyes.

"I just grabbed my documents and a duffle bag with some clothes and ran. Booked the first flight to Romania to come stay at my grandparents'. Oh except they know what my dad is all about! Told me I had an hour to get some rest and be out of their house as they didn't want any trouble with my dad's people."

"I did grab a fuck ton of my dad's cash though so at least hotels weren't an issue," her words were coming out chocked, occasionally interrupted by sniffles. She rapidly whipped a hand across her face. "Have you ever been to Braşov? Old part of the city is quite lovely."

Cassandra grimaced. She didn't want to interrupt, but seeing Nicole in such a state made something in her unbeating heart ache. She gently wiped the trail of tears from her cheeks and placed a kiss on her temple from where she was sitting half behind Nicole. Then, with the softest voice she could muster, "And how did you meet Duke?"

Nicole's eyes widened slightly, apparently having forgotten that detail.

"Oh I stumbled upon his shop one day. I thought he was selling some neat stuff and he was nice so I kept coming back. One thing led to another and when I found out about a place off the map where no one gets in or out without help I thought it would be the perfect place to hide from the people trying to put a bullet through my head." Then she winced slightly. "I was also mildly tipsy when I made that decision."

Cassandra looked a little incredulous. "And he just brought you here?"

"I paid him."

Cassandra's expression turned to what could only be described as disappointed but not surprised. Then her attention went back on the redhead, glossy eyes fixated on the floor. To say she sucked at comforting others was an understatement. Daniela was far more well versed in the art of making others not feel miserable but she was nothing if not stubborn enough to try.

"Listen," she shifted to sit in front of her, hand placed gently on a wet cheek. "If anyone ever dares come near you with the intention of harming you, I'll make them regret every life choice that led them there. You're safe here." She may not be great with her words, but if Cassandra excelled in anything, it was keeping her loved ones safe. Loved one huh.

Nicole leaned into her touch, finally meeting Cassandra's eyes. There was a gentle kind of determination in her golden gaze, accompanied by a fiery rage that, for once in her life, brought comfort as opposed to terror. It came with the knowledge that it wasn't directed at her but at whoever may want to harm her.

She didn't doubt her words. Instead she shifted closer, face nuzzled in the crook of Cassandra's neck and, barely above a whisper, said: "Thank you."

[spaceskam]

warning: mentions of past bullying/homophobia because it kyle

Kyle Valenti had prepared for a lot of up and downs in life. It came with the territory of being pre-med.

What he had not prepared for was coming home for Christmas break after his very first semester in college to see that his father had moved in Alex Manes so he didn’t get shipped off to war. He was even further less prepared for the following two weeks of seeing Alex Manes in increasingly more compromising situations--bent over to get something out of the oven, reaching up to get laundry detergent, stretching in the morning, parading around shirtless before bed, choosing tight little biking shorts to run in, sweating after working out, working out, just to name a few. 

By far, the last thing he’d been prepared for was, when his parents were at the station’s Christmas party, getting a little too drunk on whiskey with Alex Manes in a hot tub while discussing Lord of the Rings which somehow led to giving him head on the back porch like a fucking disaster who had no self control.

Now it was morning and Kyle was replaying the entire night over and over, staring at his bedroom ceiling with wide eyes. Up until college, Kyle had figured he was 100% straight. He’d seen cute guys, but no one he’d actually want to do anything with and, to him, that felt heterosexual enough. But those measly three and a half months that he’d spent at UNM had completely fucked up his world. Who knew so many boys got hot after high school?

But, still, he’d never really thought about acting on it outside of a fleeting, intrusive thought. Those thoughts got more frequent and stayed a little longer with Alex in his house, but he thought he had control. He thought it wasn’t a problem. Clearly he was very wrong.

In the next room over, Alex was sleeping in what used to be the guest bedroom. Disgust filled his mind as he remembered his parents explaining that having Alex around would be just like having a brother. You grew up together, they’d said, it’s no different than an adoptive sibling. There was nothing brotherly about the way he thought about Alex.

When someone knocked on Kyle’s door, he sat up and immediately started thinking of ways to explain himself. It was an accident, he didn’t mean to get on his knees. He simply fell. Alex went to help him, it was totally innocent when his shorts slipped off his hips. Water was heavy, you know? Besides, he wet ass-print on the wall had to be dry by now, there was absolutely no evidence that anything had been done for a long period of time. 

“Come in,” he said, voice slightly strained. Funnily enough, he wasn’t even hung over. At least, not on the whiskey.

Alex peeked his head in, seeing a little hesitant as he stared at him. His hair was ruffled, his septum piercing crooked, and, instead of his usual shirtless morning body, he had on a baggy sweater that engulfed him entirely. Kyle wanted to die. Why the fuck was that attractive? Who was calling the shots in his brain? He’d like to have a talk with them.

“Hey,” Alex said, clearing his throat, “Could we, uh, talk for a sec?”

“Yeah,” Kyle said, fidgeting in his bed. 

Alex entered the room completely and closed the door behind him. He seemed hesitant to come near him, but he did anyway. Kyle prepared himself for the absolute shit show about to come. He knew it would be bad because, honestly, he didn’t know what he wanted him to say. Did he want to be rejected? Did he want to find out what his lips tasted like? They’d skipped the kissing stage on accident.

“Um,” Alex whispered, his sleeves pulled over his hands as he tried to look natural. He just looked scared. “I just wanted to apologize about last night. I-If I made you feel like you had to do something you didn’t want to or just made you feel uncomfortable in anyway, I’m genuinely sorry. The whole lead up is blurry, so I don’t know if...”

“No,” Kyle jumped in, shaking his head, “No, dude, no. That’s, that’s not what happened.”

Alex eyed him and nodded slowly, not quite believing him. Which made sense. They had a weird time in high school. Or, just, bad. A bad time in high school. Why exactly was Alex the one apologizing again?

“I’m sorry,” Kyle added, “If I made you feel like-”

“No,” Alex said, voice soft and adorable and what the fuck, “No, I wanted it.” Kyle swallowed harshly. Was it getting hot in here? “I just, I know how you feel--or, felt, I guess--about me being gay and I wasn’t sure if there was some miscommunication happening. Because, like, I don’t actually remember any communication happening at all.”

“No, look, I’m sorry. About high school. All of it, I was stupid and confused,” Kyle told him, watching Alex’s eyebrows furrow a little bit, “I’m still stupid and confused. I do know I don’t... regret it. But I am still trying to wrap my head around it.” Alex didn’t say anything, simply nodding to show he was listening but didn’t want to put any words in his mouth. “Like, does this mean I’m gay now?”

Alex smiled a little in relief, shaking his head, “No.”

“Well, do you know what it does mean?” Kyle asked, “Because I definitely enjoyed myself, but I have never wanted to do that before the last, like, week. Then I get the opportunity and I throw caution to the wind. How’s that for impulse control?”

Alex gave a little laugh and it eased Kyle’s mind a bit more. 

“Um, could mean a couple things. Could mean you were just experimenting which is normal. Could mean you’re bi or something. It, uh, it takes awhile to really find a good word. Even then, it’s hard to know if it’s permanent. Stuff’s weird,” Alex explained, shrugging his shoulders. Kyle licked his lips and then moved his legs to sit criss-cross, giving Alex a space to sit on his bed. It took a little bit of silent confirmation before he did so.

“So, I’m gonna be confused for the rest of my life?”

“Not necessarily,” Alex said, biting his lips momentarily and Kyle really felt like it was on purpose, “Like, for me, I know I’m gay. I know I only want to have sex with men. But sometimes I still am like, okay, am I really though? Which, I don’t know, I think it’s pretty normal ‘cause, you know, heteronormativity is a thing.”

“Heteronormativity?” Kyle repeated. Alex again gave that sweet little smile.

“You know, like, thinking being straight is the default in society and, because of that, it makes it hard to understand your own sexuality and your own outlook on life because, well, it’s different from what’s been instilled in you from a young age,” Alex rambled. Maybe he was a little hungover because it felt like he was getting a little too fancy for first thing in the morning.

“Right, so what I’m hearing is that wanting to see you naked and wanting  to get your dick in my mouth was the beginning to a whole goddamn deconstruction of the way I view my own personality and, by extension, existence,” Kyle responded. Alex’s cheeks were a little flushed as the more blunt statement, but he nodded nonetheless. “Cool. Nothing quite like an existential crisis for breakfast.”

Alex gave a more genuine laugh this time and Kyle felt like, of all the things to be confused about right now, his mouth was not one of them.

“So, you’re not mad?” Alex clarified. 

“No,” Kyle said honestly, “But I’m sorry I was a dick to you in high school for clearly my own issues.”

“It’s okay.”

“It’s not.”

“Yeah,” Alex agreed, licking his lips. He again pulled on his sleeves. “So... What now?”

Kyle didn’t have an answer. In fact, all he could do was stare at Alex and his lips and his cheekbones and his crooked little septum ring. He glanced up at Alex’s eyes for a moment before letting his gaze drift back down to his lips, feeling a little overwhelmed with desire. It was really hard to have a full freak out about things when Alex was literally sitting on his bed and looking too good to fathom.

Kyle lifted his hand mindless towards Alex’s face and was only remembered that it was weird when Alex flinched in response.

“Sorry,” he said, “Can I?”

Alex looked a little concerned about what he was asking for, but he gave a short nod to say that he trusted him not to be cruel. Kyle took that as the best thing he’d ever seen, but also acknowledged that he had a lot more to work on than just his own self-discovery. He should definitely work on making things up to Alex.

But, for that moment, he straightened out the little metal piece and rested his hand on the side of Alex’s neck. Alex just watched him, waiting for him to be the one to make the first move. So he did.

Kyle moved in slowly, telling himself he’d already gone way further than a kiss and so it shouldn’t be scary. It was still terrifying. He could feel Alex swallow harshly as he got close. Then they closed the gap.

The kiss was short and PG and, honestly, a little awkward. Yeah, they definitely need to fix some other things before this would be as fun as it was last night. 

Alex gave a short little laugh as they pulled apart, eyes sweet and kind and really helping Kyle make more sense of the world. How the hell had he ever been mean to him?

“Maybe we should go downstairs so you parents don’t get any ideas?” Alex suggested. Kyle nodded, tempted to kiss him once more just because. He knew it would be a little weird, though, and wasn’t sure if Alex wanted him to, so he didn’t. “And, don’t worry, I’ll keep your little revelation to myself.”

“Thanks,” Kyle said, feeling a little relieved over that despite not having considered that he would’ve told anyone. This was so fucking weird. 

“And, when you go back to school, you know you can always call me if you need to talk about it. I get that it’s hard,” Alex offered. Man, Kyle really wanted to kiss him again.

“Can I kiss you again?” Kyle asked. Alex laughed and rolled his eyes.

“Just a little bit.”

“Fair enough,” Kyle agreed, leaning forward with a little more confidence. The kiss was better than the first one, more comfortable and expected. It still didn’t go past anything you’d see on Disney Channel, but it had Kyle feeling ready to start his day.

“Okay,” Alex said against his lips, “Ready to go pretend like we didn’t defile your family’s backyard?”

“Yeah,” Kyle said, “But I can’t wait to do it again.”

Alex snorted a laugh and stood up off the bed.

“You sound so sure it’ll happen again.”

“Oh, it won’t?”

“We’ll see.”

And Kyle was definitely willing to wait.

[mangobilorian]

Novelty | (explicit) ii

Pairing: Mandalorian x Reader

Genre: Smut

Words: 4646

read chapter one or three

Cold. Maker, this is the coldest you’ve ever been in your life. The air bites at your skin, seeping past your flimsy tunic, the clothing rendered useless. You try not to shiver because frankly, you were being overdramatic, but the temperature is the only thing you could focus on. It was either the cold or the dead body at your feet.

Groaning, you close your eyes. Every time you convince yourself to not look, your eyes eventually wander over to the dead Devaronian. He looks so… normal. As if he were simply sleeping. Of course, the blaster shot through his forehead ruins the tranquility.

“Stop looking.” Your head whips up at the Mandalorian’s command. You try to apologize, but no words come out. He just sighs. It’s an annoyed sigh, you can tell. The slight shake of his head, the biting quality of his breath. It stung. But could you blame him? After all, you almost cost him the bounty.

Mando picks up Ras Drun carelessly, hoisting the dead weight over his shoulder before sealing him in some… frost machine. The bounty hunter then heads up the ladder, his feet the last thing you see before he completely ascends.

Maker, how were you so careless? It was by complete chance that you met the Mandalorian after the… escapade in your bedroom. It was, after all, a fairly small city, and you hung out at the loading ports often. But out of all the possible places you could be at, you had managed to walk right in front of the Mandalorian’s ship just as a shoot-out began. Yes. A shoot out. Mando was the only one issued Ras Drun’s tracking fob and chain code, but he definitely was not the only person after the Devaronian. In fact, over a dozen trained people tracked Ras Drun to your city in the hopes of being the one to blast his head off. Unfortunately for them, Mando didn’t take his bounties personally. While everyone scrambled to have some heroic revenge on the criminal, Mando simply shot him straight blank then proceeded to shoot everyone else who blocked the way to his ship.

One of those people, however, was you. Scared shitless, you had curled into a ball by the closest object (a medium sized crate), and tried to avoid blaster fire. Hopefully, you’d get out of the situation unharmed with a story to tell your parents. But the Mandalorian had other plans. When he saw your trembling, pathetic form, he almost stopped in surprise. When others saw that he wasn’t trying to kill you, they took it upon themselves to aim your way. So Mando hauled you up, his armor blocking the blaster fire, and shoved Ras Drun’s body into your hands.

“Carry him while I get us out of here,” he had shouted, already taking aim and firing. Muted, you began to drag the body to what you assumed was his ship. The fighting didn’t stop until the ramp closed, the ding of blaster fire ringing against the metal. Mando had the ship flying in what felt like seconds.

And the body of a dead man lay at your feet. Well, it did until Mando froze it. You should be excited right now. At least, that’s what you're telling yourself. You shouldn’t care about the criminal Mando killed, especially since you told him Drun’s information yourself. And you’re finally on a ship for the first time in your life. One step closer to tracing your brother’s steps. The awful brothel girls are gone, the dreariness of that tavern will bore you no more, and the bedroom where you had your first kiss will never remind you of that amazing bounty hunter again. Except… your parents might not see their only remaining child, and you’re now flying through space in said bounty hunter’s ship.

Gritting your teeth, you rub your arms together, trying to generate some warmth at least. You stand up, knees cracking at being seated for what felt like hours when in reality you’ve only been in hyperspace for twenty minutes max. As you turn to the side, you let out a scream. Startled, you slap a hand over your mouth as the Mandalorian stares at you. Maker, how can someone be so silent when they climb down a ladder? Especially in a full suit of armor?

“Thank you for saving me,” you say. No response. Instead, he tosses you a shock blanket which you almost drop in embarrassment. “I… thank you again.” He grunts then heads back to what you assume is the cockpit. Alone again. After a few minutes of standing dumbly, you sit down. No use in angering the Mandalorian if you trifled through his stuff. You close your eyes, willing yourself to sleep. Surprisingly, your fatigue catches up, and you nestle deeper into the floor, already forgetting the Devaronian.

*****

A solid nudge pushes on your shin. You groan, huddling deeper into the blanket.

“Get. Up.” A harsh voice commands, the modulator morphing his words.

Eyes flashing wide, you sit up and see the Mandalorian’s knees. Hastily, you scramble to your feet, not daring to look at his head.

“We’ve just landed on Catonica. Canto Bight.” You nod, head still fuzzy from sleep.

“When will I go back home?” He releases a short sigh.

“Not for a while.” He turns to walk away, but foolishly you grab his arm to stop him. Immediately, he yanks his arm out of your grasp and clutches the base of your throat. Not hard enough to cut off your breathing, but still strong enough to make you wheeze. Without a doubt, he could see the faded purple and red marks littering your neck. The marks he left a week earlier. Before, your hair could hide the evidence but standing in a close proximity made the bruises all too clear. He loosens his grip then lets go.

“Don’t touch me.”

“Could you teach me to fly?” You both say simultaneously.

“I- what? Why do you want to fly?” For the first time, you see the Mandalorian confused. You don’t know how to explain it to him. Why do you want to fly? In simple terms: to get off your planet, trace your brother’s steps, and be more than your parents’ financial advisor. You’ve accomplished one of those goals already, but how do you explain the rest? You’d need to launch into your ‘tragic’ backstory for that, a story that would probably bore the Mandalorian.

“Because… it’s always been my dream to be a pilot. At the very least, I wanted to get off my planet. Thanks to you, I’ve done that. But,” you gulp, eyes averted, “I still want to know how to fly. If you’d teach me, I’d be very grateful.” A minute passes with no response.

“No. I won’t teach you.” He pauses as if he were about to say more, his chest piece rising with another breath. But he simply turns and heads to a cabinet. He opens it to reveal a multitude of weapons. Stars, it was completely excessive to have that many weapons, right? He doesn’t even have enough space on his body to carry that much.

The Mandalorian takes his pick before closing and locking his armory. He pats himself down like he’s double-checking everything then walks to the exit ramp.

“Stay here. I’ll be back in a few hours. Here,” he says as he throws a comlink at you. “Only use it for emergencies.” The door opens with a hiss, and he steps onto the ramp. Without another word, he exits the ship, the ramp closing right after.

Alone. You were alone on the Mandalorian’s ship with nothing to do. At least you weren’t cold anymore. Huffing, you look around. You didn’t get to really observe the interior of the ship. At least you knew where the weapons and the weird freezing capsules were. In the corner was a small cot. Then there were the stairs. Tentatively, you look behind you to ensure that the bounty hunter wasn’t secretly there before climbing up on shaky legs.

You enter a small room with a door at the end. Probably the cockpit. With careful steps, you nudge the door open and see the controls of the ship. There were three chairs, many lights for the console, and giant windows. From here, all you could see was the gray walls of the port bay Mando had parked at. You could only imagine the view if you looked out while in hyperspace.

The temptation to sit in the main chair and play pretend was strong. The idea made you giddy, eager to act like a pilot. But the thought of accidentally pressing a button and ruining the ship sent a shiver up your spine. With a sigh, you leave the cockpit in search of cleaning supplies. It was the least you could do.

*****

The Mandalorian was tired. With absolutely no leads on his bounty, he had to trudge back to the Razor Crest through the flashy casino city. He did not like Canto Bight, and Canto Bight didn’t like him. Under the bright lights, his dirty armor seemed more prominent. People stepped out of his way, and he wasn’t stopped despite being strapped with guns. They understood his purpose there. Mando couldn’t help the frustration that settled in his gut. He didn’t want to stay on Catonica for too long. Only after catching the fourth and final bounty could he return to Nevarro and receive payment.

His failure at getting a lead only made him jittery. And in a blitzy city like Canto Bight, he couldn’t simply find criminals to use as target practice. His bones were tired, but stars, he was restless.  

Mando entered the Razor Crest to see spots of blood on the floor. Almost unnoticeable, but he knew what to look for. What the fuck happened? He hurried further to see you wrapping a bandage around your hand, a med pack open at your side.

“What did you do.”

“Oh...I tried to clean the ship, but my hand got caught on a sharp piece of metal. Just fixing myself off, don’t worry.” You smile sheepishly.

“I’m not worried.” Mando observes the way your smile falters, your blink of surprise, and the shift of your face into neutrality. Fuck. He was too tired to deal with placating your emotions right now. He rifles through the med pack and throws a bacta patch at your lap.

“Thank you,” you mutter but don’t pick up the patch. Maker, he was stupid. Why would you need a bacta patch if you already bandaged yourself? He wasn’t thinking clearly. Instead, all he could think about were the smattering of hickeys lining your throat haphazardly. He knew that if he were to pull your shirt’s neckline down, there’d be even more bruises around your chest. Damn it. All his earlier frustrations went right to his groin the second he laid eyes on your neck. He had to get away from you. But there was nowhere to go on his ship. Maybe the cockpit? He walked towards the ladder but stopped at your voice.

“Mando…? I- I’m really sorry if I’ve offended you. I know that I made life harder for you since you have to deal with me. I never should have been by your ship o-or asked you to teach me to fly,” you ramble on, voice shaky, “And I’m really s-s-sorry about last week. I understand if you think it was a mistake. If you want, you can drop me off at some other p-planet. I’m sure I can find my way back home. And-”

Mando presses a gloved finger to your lips. He sees the tears gathering at your bottom lash lines, the slight tremble of your lips, the curve of your throat straining to contain your emotions.

“It’s… alright. My life has always been hard. And… last week wasn’t a mistake.”

“What? Mand--” he holds up a hand to silence you.

“Actually, I wouldn’t mind if we could have a repeat.” Maker, the breath felt like it was knocked out of your chest. He wouldn’t mind? What’s that supposed to mean? Blood rushes to your head. As for Mando… his blood rushes elsewhere.

He goes through the med pack again, picking up thick bandages. Carefully, he positions them over your eyes, giving you enough time to back away. But you don’t. He leads you to the edge of his cot, the action similar to what happened a week prior.

“I’ll be back,” he whispered through the modulator before leaving to power down all the machines in the hull. After the ship is crowded in darkness, he makes his way back to you, and stands there, simply observing you. Your ankles are crossed, hands folded together in anticipation. He takes off his helmet, the locking mechanism hissing, and sets it down by your feet. He leans in, your warm, shaky breath on his face. Mando slowly captures your lips with his, a small moan escaping your mouth.

Stars, kissing you always felt good. Your mouth was so pliant under his, willing to do whatever he wanted. He places his hands on your hips as you entangle yours in his hair. You were so soft for him, so pretty, so willing .

The longer he kissed you, the more delirious you felt. You jolt when his hands grip your waist then pull you towards him, back arching while your pelvis is that much closer to his. He tugs on your bottom lip with his teeth, biting hard enough to make you wince. His tongue gently runs across the spot where he bit you.

You tilt your head back for some air, the sound of your combined breathing heavy in the silence. With no sense of sight, everything else becomes so much more amplified. The smell of his armor and sweat overlap with the crippling taste of his mouth on yours. Your teeth knock together when he dives back in for another kiss, the slight pain causing you to pull harder at his hair.  

You try to wrap a leg around his waist but a hand stops you.

“No,” he rasps. His voice is much fuller, deeper, and undoubtedly sexier without the damn modulator. The hands on your hips travel downward, igniting fire on your thighs. They pull at the flesh there, pinching and prodding, while Mando’s tongue enters your mouth. Kriffing hell, this felt so good . If last week had been  a dream, today was heaven. His tongue runs over your teeth before swirling around yours. Since when has the Mandalorian been so good at making out? He separates from you, head dipping down to your neck, no doubt to put more bruises there.

The kisses, the touches, and the caresses filled your head with a buzz. A euphoric, all-encompassing, addicted buzz. All your life, you’ve never felt wanted physically. Always in the shadow of the much prettier, more experienced girls working around you, it was hard to not feel inadequate. The quiver in your voice at confrontation, your hiding behind loose clothes were all plain manifestations of your insecurities.

Everyone thought you didn’t want attention, but they were dead wrong . Maker, you want attention as much as the next person, maybe more so. You ached to feel wanted, especially as a woman. To have caught the eyes of a Mandalorian, one as strong as the man currently kissing your neck, filled you with pride. And an immense urge to show said Mandalorian just how much you could help him. As inexperienced as you were, you would at least show him your enthusiasm.

Before you could notice, one of Mando’s hands reached your belt. Fumbling with it, you stop him, thumb pressed against his wrist.

“M-mando,” you gasp, his teeth nipping at your collarbone, fingers still trying to take off your belt. “Mando s-stop.” He clearly doesn’t hear you, and succeeds in unbuckling you. “Mando stop!” As if he were burnt, the bounty hunter jerks away, putting at least a feet between you two. You almost whine at the loss of his warmth.

“I-I’m sorry. I should have asked if that was okay. I didn’t kn-,” he cuts off when you hook a leg around his waist. Finally. Tugging at his wrist, he almost collapses on top of you, but stops his fall with a hand on the cot. “What are you doing?”

“Mando, you don’t need to be sorry,” you whisper. “I just… want to show you my thanks right now.” Tentatively, you try to plant a kiss on the column of his neck, but miss and land on his cheek instead.

“How will you do that?” His breathing increases slightly, the thought making your head pound.

“Can I… do this?” You slowly drag your free hand down to the bounty hunter’s waist, gripping at muscle there. “And this…,” your fingertips graze over the tops of his thighs, curving inwards. “What about this?” Gently, you reach out to cup the bulge in his pants. You barely touch it before the Mandalorian grips your hand in his. Tightly.

“I don’t think you know what you’re getting into,” he rasps.

“I know I’m clueless about this stuff. But… I can learn. Please, Mando, will you let me learn?” He sighs, the defeated burst of air answering your question.

“This was supposed to be about you. Not me.”

“Oh, Mando... You’ve done so much for me. Let me repay you? Let me solve your problem.” Without warning, your hand escapes Mando’s, reaches out to his pants, and squeezes at the hardness there. Mando curses at your boldness, but you're stunned. Stars, he is hard as steel.

“Still willing to help me?” His head buries into your neck, not kissing or biting. Is he… snuggling against you? No matter, you have another thing to address.

“Of course,” you purr, attempting to sound sexy, but Mando just chuckles. Face reddening, you reach into his pants. Your fingers fumble around but with Mando’s help, you manage to get his pants down by a few inches. The breathing in your neck only increases, and with that burst of confidence, you grasp him gently.

Maker, he was… hard but warm. Really kriffing warm. In awe, you simply run a finger down a prominent vein.

“Maker, grip harder. ” You wrap your whole hand around his cock, squeezing as tight as you can. “Fuck, stop. Not that hard. Like this.” He places his hand over yours, then loosens his grip so you can imitate his pressure. He slowly guides your hand up to the base of his cock then down to the very tip. He leads you through that rhythm before letting go. The tip of him is wet with some sort of substance, so you gather it in your fingers.

“Shitttt... yeah. Go faster.” You try to increase the speed of your hand, but there isn’t enough lubrication.

“You’re too dry,” you complain. He’s hard as fuck, yes, but still a little dry.

“Spit in your hand,” he groans.

“What? Why-”

“Just do it,” he snarls, hips thrusting into your grasp. You release him, then spit into your palm. Maker, this seems a little gross, but if it brings Mando pleasure, you’ll do it. When you grip him again, the extra lubrication makes it so much easier to glide up and down his shaft.

As you keep up your pace, the bounty hunter steadies your hand, and begins to thrust into your fist. Fast. Stars, he’s going really fast. The warmth, the hardness, the enthusiasm send sparks to your groin. Even though Mando was the one getting a handjob, you felt like the one spiralling into pleasure.

“M-Mando?” He grunts in response, mind too focused on your small, tight grip. “Do you want to… put it in my mouth?” He stills completely. Fuck. Did you say the wrong thing?

“You really want that?”

“Yes… please, Mando,” you whine, “ I really want to suck-” he jerks away from your hand then firmly grips your shoulders. He tugs you off the cot and onto your knees, your back arching instinctively.  Once your knees touch the cold floor, you try to tug his pants down completely, but the armor covering his thighs stops you. Almost annoyed, Mando rips the armor off, the sound of metal clashing the floor making you cringe. You pull his pants down as far as they can go and blindly reach up his thighs.

Impatient, the bounty hunter lays his palm on the top of your head, leading you closer to him. After feeling around, you finally grip his pulsing cock, and Mando sighs at the sensation. A sense of dread begins to fill your stomach: a heavy, weighted feeling. Stars, why were you getting nervous now ? This is what you asked for, right? But your lack of experience makes you question just how well you can do this. Before today you’ve never even seen a naked man, much less have your mouth inches away from a hard cock. You really don’t know what you’re doing.

Before you can back away, Mando seems to sense your nervousness. He leans down to gently cup your face, his thumb tracing circles on your cheek.

“It’s ok if you want to stop.” Sniffling, you shake your head then realize that he can’t even see you.

“It’s not that. It’s just… I don’t know if I can make you feel good.” The both of you stay silent.

“Here,” he says as his thumb caresses your bottom lip, “I can teach you.” He pries your lips apart, and his thumb enters your mouth. His finger slides on the top of your teeth, and the rest of his hand widens your mouth. “Ready?” You moan in confirmation.

“Keep your mouth open.” He takes his thumb out and stands up straight. With a nudge from him, you slowly wrap your lips around the tip of his cock. Your mouth widens the deeper you take him until he’s almost to the back of your throat. You choke at the intrusion, and almost pull back all the way, but a reassuring hand holds the back of your head in place.

“Breathe through your nose. Yeah, like that.” You breathe in and out, adjusting to the feeling and weight in your mouth. And the taste. Maker, the taste is… something else. A little bitter and a little salty, you can almost taste the sweat the bounty hunter has built up over the long day. It did not taste as good as you had fantasized, but what else can you expect from someone with no experience? After a full minute of just… keeping the Mandalorian’s dick in your mouth, he begins to get irritated. He shifts his weight around, waiting for you to do something.

“Use your hands, pretty girl. Like before.” You hum in response, and begin to grip at the areas your mouth couldn’t reach. Mando controls your head to bob at a steady pace. With gasp, you break off and spit into your hand before connecting your mouth to his cock, fingers moving at a faster pace. This is what he wanted, right? He moans at your increased fervor, and you mentally high-five yourself at the success.

“Tongue. U-use your tongue,” he groans. You tentatively run your tongue on the underside of him, up and down. “Yeah. Swirl around the-- fuck-- yes, just like that. Around the tip.”

Emboldened, you trace his tip with your tongue, and the Mandalorian increases his grip on your hair. On instinct, you hollow out your cheeks, forming a sort of suction, and Mando curses.

You try to not get too messy, but your gaping mouth causes drool to slide down your chin. Maker, who knew that blowjobs were so messy? However, the increased lubrication makes it even easier to slide down the bounty hunter’s cock. A thought crosses your mind, and you use a free hand to cup one of Mando’s balls.

He jerks away, almost ripping your hair. You whine at the slight pain.

“Sorry. R-really sensitive there.” You loosen your grip on him, and store that information for later. For now, you simply squeeze him gently and pull downwards. Mando seems to melt on the spot, his moans filling the room. The sound goes straight to your neglected pussy. You don’t mind blowing Mando when you get to hear him like that .

As you play with his balls, you still bob your head on his cock, but the ache in your jaw becomes more prominent. How long were you supposed to do this? It’s amazing to see him like this and be the reason behind it, but he has so much stamina . Maybe if you go faster, it’ll end sooner.

You speed up, mouth running up and down Mando’s slick shaft, ignoring the pain in your jaw. Your increased pace makes you gag more often, not the most appealing sound. But to Mando, it seemed like the sexiest thing he’s ever heard. But the Mandalorian seems to sense your discomfort, so he pulls your head away.

“Just hands for now.” You release his balls in favor of stroking him. Like before, your hand eventually stills so he could thrust into your fist. Unlike before, he’s so much wetter . He’s fucking leaking.

He continues to blurt out obscenities while he uses your hands to pleasure himself. You clench your thighs at the thought. Your tongue still tastes a little bitter, but you’re used to it now. In fact, the idea that you even tasted the Mandalorian’s cock arouses you like nothing else.

Somehow, you can sense when Mando is close. It’s in the way his breathing becomes heavier, the faster pace, and harder grip on your hair.

“Can I-- kriff-- can I cum in your mouth, pretty girl?”

“Yes pleeeease,” you gasp. He sticks the tip in your mouth, then proceeds to stroke himself furiously. Your hands take purchase on his thighs, massaging at the muscles there. You brace yourself for some sort of sign that he’s reaching his climax. Out of nowhere, Mando releases a long groan, and a salty taste hits your tongue.

You cringe instantly at the taste but don’t pull back. Instead, you take more of him in, holding him in your mouth. After he’s done, he begins to pull away, but you stop him. You swallow the liquid in your mouth, gulping down. Mando curses at the feeling. When he tries to pull out again, you let him. Cool air replaces the warmth Mando provided, the drool on your face already beginning to dry.

“Did you really swallow?” You give a noise of confirmation.”Kriffing hell. You’re so good for me. Here,” he reaches down to grab your arms, and pulls you up. Your knees give a pop as they straighten. Without a doubt, they’ll be bruised. He guides you to sit down on the cot.

“My turn,” he says, dropping to his knees. But a yawn stops him.

“Sorry… I’m just really tired. M-maybe next time?” You lay down all the way, maneuvering yourself so your entire body is stretched across the bed. With the ache between your legs, you’d usually be too high strung to sleep.Yes, it’ll be your second nap, but it’s been a long day, and exhaustion caught up to you again.

Mando stands back up and just stares at the darkness. He contemplates turning the lights on, but a soft snore from you discourages him. Grunting, he tugs his pants back on, and feels around the floor for his helmet. Grasped in hand, the helmet swings around as he walks to the ‘fresher. He could really use a shower. Before he enters, he turns around, the ‘fresher light illuminating you. Next time.

Next time, it’ll be his turn.

[sanders-sides-fic]

There is no nice deathworlders! (Right?) [Chapter 3]

AU-masterpost: here

Virgil had been outside for hours now. He’d left the cage for two reasons, one of them being that he didn’t want to freak the creathen out even further. He had been able to tell that he didn’t want to be close to Virgil and Virgil couldn’t even blame him.

However, after being outside for so long, he started to wonder. Was the creathen safe? If he’d cut his bindings somehow and escaped, well, good for him. Now that his skin was healed up enough for him to be conscious again the alien would probably be fine. But what if something had crept up into the cave and attacked him? He wasn’t really able to fight, Virgil had made sure of that. For his own safety, because he doubted that the creathen would have let him talk.

Not that he had even been able to do so earlier. Virgil was still frustrated by that, but he was pretty happy that the creathen had understood what Virgil wanted to communicate in the end.

Still. If anyone or anything would attack the creathen now he’d probably die and it’d be Virgil’s fault. The longer he was gone, the worse the anxiety got. But if he didn’t search, he wouldn’t be able to find Janus and he wouldn’t be able to safe any other potentially hurt crew members of his new acquaintance. He also doubted that the creathen wanted his protection. Or realize that that was what it was. Judging from the reactions he had gotten so far for being a human, he’d probably just assume Virgil had come to kill him and/or fry him in a cauldron.

Then again, he hadn’t slept last night and this night was almost over as well. The storm had cleared up enough to see some of the stars as well. Maybe Virgil could just sleep outside the cage and make sure the creathen was safe? He did need sleep. He had a feeling that the days on this planet were shorter than back on earth, but he was tired nonetheless. Really tired. He’d be anxious to get here, so he hadn’t been able to sleep before coming to this planet.

Disappointedly, Virgil turned around with a sigh. Well, maybe he would have better luck tomorrow. Maybe. But probably not. It had been stupid to get his hopes up, really. After all, there had only been rumors of a human being here. And those rumors had only been of a human screaming. Not many aliens actually knew what a human scream sounded like, so there was a high chance it was just that: a rumor. But it had been his first lead in ages! He couldn’t just not hope.

When he got back to the cave, he could hear the creathen talk. At first he thought someone had found them, but it turned out to be the same self-talking habits he had tended to when Virgil had first spotted him.

“You know, Remus, you should really wake up.”, he said with a sigh. “You’re missing out on all the action. You always said how you wanted to get to know a deathworlder, right? And now we’re trapped by one. They could come back any moment now. Come on, you crazy shit. I need your help right now. And… I miss you…” The creathen’s voice broke at that last statement. Or the creath’s voice, Virgil guessed. It almost sounded like the second creath inside the creathen’s body had yet to grow conscious again. That was… Well, it definitely wasn’t good. Virgil knew that much, even if he didn’t know anything else.

Remus was the unconscious creath’s name, huh? Virgil felt bad for Remus’s twin. It sounded as though he was suffering without his twin’s support. There wasn’t much Virgil could do about it, though. At least not that he knew about and he doubted the creath would just ask him for help. So he sat down with another sigh. He didn’t enter the cave and he didn’t listen to what else Remus’s brother said to Remus. It felt as though he’d be intruding on a very personal moment.

So, instead he looked up to the stars. They were so similar to what stars looked like on earth, just in other constellations. And clearer. Virgil supposed light pollution wasn’t really a thing on ZH-8. It wasn’t on most planets.

When they had just escaped the smuggler’s ship, Virgil and Janus had played star-guessing. It was basically like cloud guessing. They would form their own constellations and name them. Not the way they had been named on earth, no, they would give them names that actually fitted how they looked. Virgil’s all time favorite was still “the drunken dwarf” that Janus had spotted on a planet called GK-9J6. And every time they had ended with guessing which star up there was the sun, or wether they could even see the sun at all. It wasn’t a very strong or bright star, Virgil had understood that pretty early on.

Virgil hadn’t played anymore since Janus disappeared. So far that rumor had been the only true one about them. That Janus had been lost in a smoke storm on a planet close by. He knew the aliens around here just used it as a horror story or to warn their young of the dangers of the deathworlders. Because Virgil was so dangerous with his social anxiety, selective mutism and terrible orientation. Yes, truly the attributes of a vicious killer who would stalk his pray to the ends of the galaxy. Absolutely.

He sometimes wondered how some of the rumors had started at all. One time, when he had been disguised on a market far far away from here, there had even been a rumor that included how “no one ever lived to tale the tale”. But how the hell did they think those stories were from then?! It was just plain stupid. And neither he nor Janus would ever kill children for the fun of it in front of their tied up parents. That was just horrible! Not even Janus lied like that. But, whatever. It wasn’t as though he could do anything about it. And back on earth people had been gossiping about the strange, edgy teenager as well. So he was used to it.

Looking back up, he suddenly saw a bunch of stars that looked like the head of a snake. A small grin appeared on his lips at that. He would call this constellation “Janus’s true form”. That was the last thought that crossed his mind before he fell asleep.

…

A man in a black suit entered the strange room they put Virgil in. How long had he been in here? He had hoped those evil fucks would just leave him alone after he injured that other… thing. It had ben hauntingly easy to do so, too. Virgil still wasn’t over it.

He guessed that being left alone had been wishful thinking after all, as he stood up slowly. His black hoody was sipped up, hiding the purple tee underneath. But that didn’t help much in the white room. Those fucks couldn’t see properly, Virgil guessed, so it worked for them. But this man, this human, wouldn’t be bothered by a little bit of shadows. He knew that.

Virgil tried to speak to the man in the suit, but it didn’t work. Apparently his meds didn’t work anymore. With an annoyed huff, he decided to settle for a glare when he couldn’t demand answers. The man smiled and it was an empty, friendly, polite, pleasant smile. The kind you would see on posters right before a vote or on those big galas his dad threw or equally stupid stuff like that. It annoyed Virgil even further. What the hell?

“Hello”, the man said in a very calm, smooth voice. It was like vanilla ice cream. Virgil didn’t like it one bit. “I hope you can speak my language?”, the man continued to talk. The answer was easy, even without talking. But should Virgil answer? It was the first person that spoke his language and he still didn’t know what the fuck was going on. And he had been told to build report with kidnappers so they would see him as a person instead of a thing and not kill him. Not dying sounded like a good plan. So, after a moment’s notice, Virgil nodded once.

The man’s disgusting smile deepened. “Splendid. Now, I am going to tell you what our… predicament here is and I hope you believe me. Don’t worry, they can’t understand what I am telling you. I would like it very much if you could put on your acting face too, so they don’t get suspicious. Can you do that?”

Virgil nodded again. The man nodded back. And neither did his smile falter nor did it leave his voice, even when he started to explain: “I know this might sound crazy, but we have been abducted. By aliens. This is an illegal smuggler ship and we will most likely die soon.”

What. The. Hell?!

It was really hard not to show his shock or fear right now. Instead, Virgil pulled his arms around himself in a tight hug and pressed his lips together. He hoped he looked more angry than scared, though.

“You’re doing great, darling. Now, I managed to get onto somewhat friendly terms with those squalid fucks. That’s why they put me here. I’m supposed to calm you down and make you obedient or something the like. They trust me. Not entirely, but a little.” Ah, great. Fucking perfect! So this man was with them, then. Shit!

But the man didn’t stop there. As though he understood Virgil’s unease, his smile deepened and he let out a polite little chuckle: “I know this is a fucked situation and we both don’t want to be here. So I want to propose using their trust, shoving it down their throats, make them suffocate on it and ripping out their vital organs until they regret ever even thinking about taking either of us. I’ve had quite some time here and I have a somewhat good plan, but I can’t pull it off alone. I don’t know about you but I, for one, don’t want to die in some dump after they are through with me or get soled as a slave to another species. Believe me, humans aren’t well liked around here. Bad reputation. Ah! It’s the worst.” He chuckled again.

Virgil could only stare at him in disbelieve. That guy was crazy. This man had lost it. Whatever those things did to him, he was a goner now. And still the only hope Virgil had. God, he was screwed. However, the man was right. He didn’t want either of those options happening to him either. Not to anyone, actually. So Virgil gave the man another tight-lipped nod.

“Oh, thank god! I was worried you wouldn’t let me. My name is Janus. Janus Serpent. And you are…?”, the man chuckled. And looked at Virgil expectantly. Great. How did you talk again? Virgil opened his mouth, trining to say something, but could only close it in the end. He shook his head frustratedly.

“Oh! Are you mute, darling?”

Well… Not quite. But it was as close as the man would probably get. So Virgil raised his hand and shook it in an so-so motion. Janus nodded.

“I see. Hm… Do you know ASL by any chance?”

Virgil nodded. Yes! Yes, he did. He had learned it because someone suggested it might help. It wasn’t really a solution, but it was easier than using his voice. So Virgil raised his hand and started spelling out his name.

��V-I-R-G-I-L-F-E-L-I-N-E…? Uhm…Virgil Feline? Is that you? Wait, so you are the son of that CAO?”

Fuck. So Janus had heard of him before. Damnit! Did he even want to work with Virgil now? After all, the news had been full of those petty “crimes” for years now. But that wouldn’t keep Janus from escaping together, right? He’d said he needed the help, right?

“Perfect.”, Janus smiled to Virgil’s surprise, “Then you will understand a lot more of what I’m about to tell you. I heard you like to sneak around. That might just come in handy…”

The creath inside the cave woke up from a sound outside the next morning. It was almost as though something was in pain. Was the deathworlder back? Had they tortured an innocent being? God, he wished he had Remus to talk to!

Roman took a look towards his bindings. He’d tried to cut them with the scale on his tale, but it was made more for poking than cutting, so he’d only managed one of the many times it had been wrapped around his wrists before it had hurt too much to go on. What would the deathworlder do when they found out, that Roman had tried to disobey them and flee? He shuddered at the thought.

Another sound captured Roman’s attention. It really was the deathworlder. Roman could see them in the little light entering the cave from outside. He really wished for Logan’s night vision right about now… Something was strange, though. Aside from the mud all over them, there was water on their face. What…? But the storm had long since been gone. Where did that come from? What did it mean?

The otherworldly predator decided to sit down across from Roman, an empty look on their face. Their eyes looked at Roman, but it felt more as though they looked through him.

Maybe he shouldn’t have given up on freeing himself yesterday after all. He doubted that look was a good one…

Taglist 💜:

 @the-ultimate-a @bunny222 

[jaqdawks]

added a short story bellow :)

content warnings: alcohol and implied nsfw acts, also mention of death.

—————————————

Nickolai awoke in someone else’s bed with a splitting hangover. He sat up and looked around the unfamiliar room. He checked if it was possibly Alcor’s, until he realized he didn’t know what Alcor’s bedroom looked like at all. He also didn’t know what most of Alcor’s flat looked like; he’d only ever been as far in as a single hallway.

For a few minutes, Nickolai fought the hangover to remember who he was with and what identity he’d assumed. All he could remember was Noah. He had a fake ID that said Noah, and his false identity as a Noah was a man who fixed computers. Noah was a common name though, and he couldn’t remember who the Noah here was.

He didn’t think about it much longer before he succumbed to the hangover and flopped back onto the bed—which Nickolai was alone in. The disturbed sheets on the spot next to him hinted to someone else having been in it earlier.

The door began to creak open, and Nickolai shut his eyes.

“Hey, it’s almost noon. I don’t want to be rude but you need to wake up,” sounded an unfamiliar voice.

Nickolai grumbled a little. He looked at the stranger, who had soft green eyes and curly red hair. He didn’t look untrustworthy, to Nickolai’s relief. Then again, Nickolai didn’t look untrustworthy either on a normal day.

“I have Advil if you need something for a hangover,” the stranger offered.

Nickolai sat up again, for real now. “Sorry, what’s your name?”

The stranger laughed. “I’m Joel. Were you too hammered to remember my name?”

Nickolai shook his head.

The stranger seemed concerned. “How much do you remember then?”

“I don’t know, I remember thinking I should get mad drunk in public instead of passing out on my couch. After that it’s just fuzzy.” Nickolai assumed he told Joel that his name was Noah.

Joel looked a little perturbed in an endearing way. “Ah, well, do you want me to fill the gaps or. . ?”

“Can I get some Advil first?”

“Yeah. I’ll go get some water for you to swallow it with,” Joel complied. “You should get dressed.”

Nickolai waited for Joel to leave before getting out of bed and tracking down all his clothes, which were strewn about the room. His shirt smelled like liquor to the point that Nickolai thought he might gag. However, he didn’t have any spare clothes and decided to just put up with it.

Joel was back a few minutes after Nickolai got dressed. It was clear he was trying to ignore the smell, but after Nickolai took the Advil, Joel asked if he needed to borrow something that didn’t smell so rancid. Nickolai obliged and was relieved to be able to rid the putrid button-down.

“Okay, so the parts you don’t remember,” Joel began. “I can’t say I remember it too well either, but I think I have a decent memory with these things.”

Nickolai nodded. “Go on.”

“So,” Joel continued. “It began when I think I saw the bartender cut you off on drinks, and I felt kind of bad about that. So I thought, hey, company’s much better than drinks, even though I was also drinking, like a lot. And I guess at some point we kinda started flirting, and I was like ‘should we take this back to your place?’ and you began to freak out. I think you said you have a dog that bites people or something? Is that true?”

“Nope.”

“Okay. Well anyways, you did not seem to be very happy with the idea of taking anyone to your place, so I took you to mine. And you can probably guess the rest, considering you woke up naked in my bed.”

Nickolai silently acknowledged the implications in his head. This wasn’t how he planned to start his weekend, but he could roll with it. “Yeah. Sorry for sleeping until noon, by the way. I’m not at all a morning person.”

Joel smiled with amusement. “How do you pull that off? I can’t even sleep past nine on a good day.”

“Sadness.”

Joel’s face went blank with a bit of underlying surprise at Nickolai’s off hand answer. “Oh. Sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it, no harm no foul.” Nickolai was vehemently aware that he may have used that saying incorrectly.

Joel veered the conversation away from the topic. “How does your head feel?”

“A little better.”

Joel was oddly kind. Nickolai wasn’t used to receiving this hospitality from strangers like him, but that probably had more to do with who Nickolai associated himself with and not people in general. Nickolai decided he liked Joel, even if he barely knew him.

“I would offer you some breakfast, but. . . it’s almost one in the afternoon. You’re probably hungry though, right?”

“Oh, you don’t have to.” Nickolai attempted to smile back at Joel but he was too tired to count off what would make it look genuine. Regardless, Joel didn’t seem to notice.

“I’m gonna do it anyway,” Joel decided. “Any allergies?”

“Strawberries.”

“Oh! That’s a rare one.”

Nickolai shrugged. “I seem to cash in on the rare things a lot. Albinism, an extra rib, and the strawberry allergy.”

“Casinos must hate you if you’re that lucky.”

Nickolai let out a genuine laugh. He decided he definitely liked Joel. He also felt a tinge of astonishment that someone like Joel casually hooked up with him, or generally anyone. He seemed like too much of an angel to even drink.

Nickolai followed Joel out of his room. Joel’s place was considerably nice, to the point Nickolai was in a bit of disbelief. He couldn’t have wound up in an upper class area if he had started last night at a shoddy bar, right? Joel didn’t act like he was rich, he didn’t seem like it either. But this place completely contrasted whatever Joel was like. Even Joel’s cat, a rather well groomed Norwegian forest cat—which was massive and somewhat intimidating—seemed to completely outclass Nickolai.

“Do you live here by yourself?” Nickolai asked as he surveyed the expensive wallpaper lining the kitchen walls.

“Nah, I have a housemate named Anwyll. He’s visiting family right now though.”

Nickolai froze. “Anwyll. . . As in Anwyll Tait?”

“That’s the one!”

Nickolai suddenly felt sick. “Oh fuck.”

“Is something wrong?”

Nickolai retched. Had his stomach not been empty, he had no doubt he would have thrown up all over the nice counter top.

Joel dropped what he was doing and crossed the room to Nickolai. “Are you okay?” He was suddenly at Nickolai’s side with his hand placed gently on Nickolai’s back.

Nickolai’s head spun. He knew he couldn’t tell Joel that Anwyll Tait took his brother’s life in the deathmatches. If he did, Joel would have a catalogue of every possible person Nickolai could truly be, and it would clearly point to Yuskol Voskoboinikov.

Nickolai ran through every excuse he could think up. He could say he hated the rich, but that could offend Joel. He could say the deathmatches made him sick, but Joel was obviously linked to them somehow if he was in league with a Tait. Joel felt like dangerous company, a double edged sword.

“Noah?”

“Sorry, sorry,” Nickolai croaked. “I think it’s just the hangover. I haven’t eaten since yesterday, so I guess I don’t have anything to throw up.”

That was the safest excuse.

Joel looked at Nickolai with pity. “Do you think you can eat right now?”

“Yeah.”

Nickolai felt somewhat content that he had definite confirmation that he had told Joel his name was Noah last night. The slight accent in his voice may throw off the authenticity in his identity as Noah Martin, but it wasn’t consistent enough to jeopardize him.

At the same time, the fact that he slept with someone of such high class alarmed him. Most public record photos of Nickolai Voskoboinikov’s face was outdated or somewhat photoshopped, but a Tait might be able to figure him out if they surveyed him for long enough.

“So, what’s your housemate like?” Nickolai asked. He tried to keep the nervousness from spreading to his voice.

“Anwyll can be such a jerk sometimes, but he’s also sorta nice. I’ve known him since I was little,” Joel said. “He doesn’t like new people that much, but I think he’d like you.”

“Dunno. I can be very unlikeable when I’m on my medication.” Nickolai knew with certainty that Anwyll would hate him no matter what. “Also I’m. . . lower class.” Nickolai also knew that Anwyll was a classist asshole.

“Lower class? That doesn’t matter,” Joel piped up. “The whole class thing is kind of stupid. I think the way it’s set up is interesting, but it won’t stop me from having friends from all kinds of walks of life.”

“I. . . yeah. I guess so,” Nickolai mumbled. He doubted Joel would be this positive if he knew of Nickolai’s illegal trades ties, the upper class notoriously hated brokers like him. They also especially hated him in particular.

Being there felt like the most dangerous stunt Nickolai had pulled, and he hadn’t even done it on purpose.

Joel set a ridiculously fancy, yet somehow definitely homemade, grilled cheese sandwich on a plate in front of him.

“Wow,” Nickolai mused. For a moment he wasn’t sure what to say. “This looks like something an expensive ass chef would make.”

“Thanks! I went to the top culinary school in the city, my parents say it was a waste of time.”

“Fuck what your parents say,” Nickolai replied before he took a bite. The sandwich tasted unreal. The last time he had food as good as this was when he posed as an intern for one of the deathmatch organizers.

“I’m glad you like it,” Joel smiled. Nickolai felt unease crawl back into his chest. Joel seemed so genuinely friendly, though a nagging suspicion told Nickolai it could be a lie. Nickolai couldn’t take a risk by being near him for much longer. At the same time, however, he felt captivated. Joel had that charisma that so many of the notorious upper class families seemed to unanimously mirror. He was a golden face among a sea of golden faces, all rotten under their skin. Nickolai knew what they were like.

Even then, Joel seemed to care a lot more than most would let on.

Nickolai took a deep breath. “I have to go home, sorry. I left my meds there, and I probably have people flooding my inbox about work and all that bullshit.”

“That’s alright. If you don’t mind me asking, what’s your job?”

“I fix computers,” Nickolai lied. That was Noah’s persona, and a story that should hold up if Joel decided to try and look in to it.

To be polite, he exchanged phone numbers. Nickolai only had his burner phone on him, which was a relief. The calls and texts that flooded Nickolai’s personal phone daily would have definitely been suspicious.

Nickolai liked Joel, but he knew he wouldn’t call him. Nickolai had a hunch that Joel may not be the worst of his kind, but he knew he wouldn’t text him back. It felt harsh to shut Joel out like this, but Nickolai wasn’t going to risk identification simply because he had a good encounter. They waved goodbye, and Joel’s cheery expression was a reminder that Nickolai would have to be silently cruel.

Nickolai didn’t call for a cab, he walked until his hangover began to bother him again. Then he called Alcor—Alcor didn’t have Nickolai’s burner phone address, but he was a safer bet than any cabs in this place.

The phone rang for a while before Alcor picked up.

“Who’s this?”

Nickolai felt relief wash over him to hear a familiar voice. “It’s Nick. Can you come pick me up?”

Alcor’s words were laced with suspicion as he spoke over the phone. “. . . Sure. Where are you?”

Nickolai looked at the street sign. Of course he had to stop on Ivory Street—the richest and most notorious, and also the one Nickolai hated the most for almost no real reason. With a sigh, he said, “Ivory Street.”

“How the fuck did you get there?”

“Drunkenly and against my conscious knowing.”

“Is this going to be dangerous?”

Nickolai groaned. “Not as dangerous as standing in the house that belongs to the man who killed my brother. Now get over here, I don’t think it’d be safe to use public transport in this area.”

There was a silence on the other end, then Alcor replied, “I’m on my way.”

[jj-lynn21]

Cozy Cove: Saved by an Angel

surfer terms: Axed-to be held down under the wave after a fall. Aggro- aggressive surfer. Other term NORML: National Organization for the Reform of Marijuana Laws

In this fiction Axel Cluney (Bill Skarsgard) is a surfer/owns his own garage in a coastal vacation destination town. His Brother Josh (Valter Skarsgard) is a lifeguard and older brother Eric (Alex Skarsgard) is a construction worker who makes the girls swoon with his guitar playing. Not really any smut until Ch 3.

warnings: Angst, blood,

  ch 2 A side of tits with your pancakes , Ch 3  Fires Burn Hot ,

 ch 4 Spending the nights , Ch 5 Learning and Loving,

Ch 6 The end is not always the end , Ch 7 Axel Grease Old Wounds, Storms Pass, Dangerous Waters

Axel and Susie Q.:  Ch 1.  Saved by an Angel

Welcome to Cozy Cove a beach town of only 600. The Mayor of the town, Dr. Cluney, runs the town, his practice and his home with precision. At least he tries to. With three boys and a deceased wife his personal affairs have always felt more difficult to handle.

He would have liked his boys to be off at college becoming Doctors to help the the town. He doesn’t see their current employments as satisfactory even though they are all productive, important citizens of Cozy Cove. The tourists flood in at this time of year. And that makes everyone, including the Dr.,  a little more happy with bussiness booming.

Susie Quinnby is one such tourist. She walked along the beach in front of her families new summer home as soon as she helped her parents carry their things in the new cottage. The Midwest girl took a deep breath to inhale the salty ocean air. The waves crashed along the shore line. She sat in the sand running her hands through the grains as she looked out at the water to the one lone surfer. 

The Pipes were Axel Cluney's go-to surf spot. It was less crowded than the nearby more popular Cardiif Reef. At this time of day, he thought himself lucky to be alone with the waves and his board. He had paddled out to catch a ride in on a larger wave he hoped to tame. 

Susie notices him as Axel jumped up to stand on his board. He surfed down the crest of the wave until it curled up around him. He rode it until it overtook him. She jumped up as he disappeared under the water. She tried not to fret waiting for him swim to the surface. When that didn't happen, she ran into the surf. She swam out with all her might.

His foot was still connected to his board when she found him floating face down. There was no lifeguard to help as the sign said on entering the area. It was a struggle, but Susie got Axel on to his board to make it easier to pull him to shore. As soon as they were on shore she checked if he was breathing. 

Axel's head was bleeding reddening the sand. She put her white wrap under his head and tilt it up. Then checked to see if there was anything in his mouth by chance before she started giving him mouth-to-mouth. He coughed up water within a minute, and she turned him on his side.

"Are you alright?" She asked 

"I got axed out there," Axel sat up slowly, holding the material to his wound. "Thanks for pulling me out of the drink. Back from the brick of my possible death."

"You are lucky I was out here since it seems mostly vacant." She sits back on her knees brushing the sand from her breasts, "I'm Susie Quinnby.. May I ask your name aggro?"

Axel watched how she was brushing the sand so absentmindedly before looking back up with something between a grin and a smile. "Axel Cluney."  

Axel looked at the material that covered his head wound. Susie grabbed it and put pressure back on the opening where blood still seeped.

"You should keep that on your head," She insisted.

Axel put his hand over hers where she had the blood soaked garment. "You think I'll need stitches?" He said feeling a little woozy from the blood loss. "I don't think I can drive right now."

"Maybe, you sure are bleeding," She glanced again. "I didn't see a hospital when my family got into town. Where can I take you to get stitched up?"

"Oh, your vacationing here this summer?" His eyes were a little unfocused, but he had to find out where this Angel came from who saved him. It was just in his nature to sound flirty. "Where are you staying?"

"At one of the dunes cottages but that's not important right now." She stood up and offered a hand for him to stand. "I drove my own car. You think you can walk to the parking area. It is less than a mile. Then you have to tell me where to take you." 

"Oh, yeah head is still bleeding," He chuckled as he stood up a little shaky. "I'll be alright. There is a small clinic in town between the donut shop and tattoo parlor. They handle stuff like this. I'm practically a regular." Axel chuckled again. 

Her parents were sitting on the porch of the beach house when her and Axel walked up. They rushed down to see what they could do for the bleeding stranger their daughter was helping. 

"What happened?" Her Father asked first.

"You ruined your white wrap," Her mother said when she saw what was being held against the wound. "I will go get a clean towel, so I can try to get that clean." She rushed in the house.

"This is Axel," Susie said. "I was sitting on the beach when he had a bad spill while surfing. I think he needs stitches, so I'm going to take him into town where they have a med center."

Axel still had on his wet suit that cover his tattoos, "Yeah, she saved my life Sir." 

Her Mother quickly switched the white or what use to be white wrap for a dark blue towel. 

"Sorry, about your wrap Susie Q." He said seriously.

. "It's ok Axel," She held him steady. "Keys?"

"Yeah, of course sweetheart," Her Dad rushed up the stairs. That is when Axel saw his huge N.O.R.M.L tattoo across his upper back.

Her Dad tossed her the keys, and she caught them easily. Then  she helped Axel to her car. A champagne pink Ford Fusion with a sunroof she opened as soon as she got inside. She had pink plush seat overs with a little bling sown in to the fabric. It was the girliest car he had every scene, and he laughed to himself. She got in the drivers side. Axel already had his head back loosing grip on the towel as his eyes got a little heavy.

"Don't doze off Axel," She begged as she started the car. "Stay awake and hold that towel. Tell me what you do when you are not letting waves crash over you?"

Axel holds the towel tighter as his eyes flutter back open trying to focus on what Susie asked him. "I um I'm a mechanic. Fuck, my ID and money are with my motorcycle back at the beach. Can we stop to get them Susie Q. Such a cutie name for sexy hero."

"Not right now Axel," She blushed/ "We are almost there."

"Where?" His eyes were slit open barely.

"The clinic to get your head stitched up," She parallel parked right in front of the building. "Stay awake Axel. I'm going to get a little help to get you inside." She ran in the automatic doors to the desk at the far end of the room. 

"Just fill this out, and we will be right with you," The clerk said blandly as she handed the girl a clipboard with a paper on it to fill out.

Susie took a deep breath as she laid the clipboard on the desk, "I have Axel Cluney in my car bleeding from his head. I need help getting him inside. He is dizzy from the head injury. I'm not sure he can walk on his own right. now"

The desk clerk picks up the phone, "Doctor Cluney your son is bleed in some girl's car again. I will send them right back Sir."

An orderly came out with a wheelchair and followed Susie to her car. He helped Axel into the chair "You have a big wipe out Axel?"

Axel looked up at him in a daze, " Yeah, Brent. But I had a guardian Angel save my ass. Susie pulled me right out of the drink and gave me mouth-to-mouth."

"Is that so," Brent smiled at Susie. "How long was he out before he came around Miss Susie?"

"It was only maybe three minutes," Susie thought. "It took me about two minutes to get him to shore. Then only about a minute of giving him mouth-to-mouth before he spit out water and came around. I am more worried about the bleeding."

"Yeah, looks like a pretty good gash" The orderly pushed him back the hallway between the desk and a bathroom right into a room. "You can come in after I get a gown on him Susie."

She nodded waiting at the door. She could hear them chuckling but not what they were saying.  She wasn't sure if she should stay or run while she had a chance. Brent called her back in the room. She sat at Axel's bedside as Brent held pressure on Axel's head wound. 

"How are you feeling Axel?" She asked. "Do you want me to go get your wallet?"

"He should be feeling real good any minute," Brent smiled. "I gave him a dilauded injection for the pain."

Axel looked to her with glossy eyes. He reached a hand out to hold hers. "you are so tiny," He chuckled. "An Angel of the water for me. Stay for now, alright?"

She nodded, her hand practically disappeared in his.

 His Father walked in with a smirk on his face. "I've told you a thousand times or more not to surf alone, Axel." He goes to look at the head injury. He shakes his head. "Yeah, you need about fifteen stitched here. Brent, have the nurse bring in the kit." "Sorry Dad," Axel mumbled. "None of the guys wanted to get their asses up to surf at dawn."

"Then you shouldn't have been out there either." He growled, "You are going to kill yourself one of these days. You are lucky this young lady was able to pull you in and get you here before you bled out. Thank you young lady. I apologize for him in advance. Axel is not the brightest bulb."

The nurse comes in with the suture kit. She helped the Doctor drape a cloth over Axel's head. Shaved around the wound. Axel didn't even flinch when she arrogated the area. 

"I'm just glad I was there at the right time," Susie looked to Axel not believing his own Father called him stupid. Her parents would never do that. "My family just got into town this morning. I was just sitting on the beach when I saw him go under. I had to do something. It is just how I was raised."

"That's good of you young lady," Axel's Father started stitching the wound. "You are probably exhausted. You can go. I'll make sure my son gets back to his apartment. I'll have one of your brothers keep an eye on you tonight, Axel. Josh doesn't have a real job, so he can do it."

"Being a lifeguard is a real job Dad," Axel blurted. "Susie, I'd like you to stick around if you are not to exhausted."

"I'll stay if it is alright with the Doctor," She smiled keeping a hold of his hand.

 "Suit yourself," He snipped off the edge of the stitches tying it off. "No going into the garage tonight. I'm sure one of those idiots you work with can cover for you. And no surfing for two weeks so this can heal. The stitches will dissolve themselves."

"Alright, Dad." Axel huffed. "I'll call as soon as I get my cellphone from the Harley."

"I'll send Josh to drive it to your apartment." He threw away what was left of the kit with his gloves. "No driving tonight either, you hear me? I don't know why you have such dangerous hobbies. It is time for you to grow out of this shit and stop with the tattoos. Your body is a temple not a canvas."

Axel shrugged, "I see it as both."

His Father rolled his eyes, “I will stop to check on you when I get done here tonight." He leaves. 

Axel signed some paperwork. 

Susie helped him to her car. "Where is your apartment, Axel? I'll get you settled and be on my way."

"Thanks for staying as long as you have Susie Q." He chuckled. "Q R S..." He babbled a moment. "Oh, I live at the end of Sea Street across from the entrance to the Dunes. I'm sure you saw the street. Its five miles back on Sea Street where the ocean meets the shore right at my back door. It is such a beautiful sight. I can't wait for you to see the sunrise there."

"Pretty presumptuous of you, don't you think?" She smirked. "I'll be heading home like I told you."

"Sorry, I um pain med has my mind spinning," He swallowed hard. His mouth feeling dry. "Sorry, I didn't mean it...I didn't mean to sound rude to you, lovely Angel who saved my ass."

She drives as he continues to babble a little incoherently. She walks with him to the door. He leans down to get a spare key hidden in the mouth of a porcelain frog. Her heart jumped when he slowly moved his big green eyes up her body to meet her blue eyes. His hands awkwardly palmed her face. 

"Have I thanked you appropriately for saving my life?" He pushes some stray hairs behind her ear. 

She looked up at him hold her breath for a moment before beginning to speak, "I, you..."

Axel leaned down to kiss her lips softly. A motorcycle was heard come up the driveway. A car horn was beeping. They parted looking at each other a moment.

 "I should go," Susie looked away. She was blushing as she walked to her car past the blonde getting off Axel's motorcycle. She gets in her car and drives away.

"Scare off another one brother, "The blond chuckled. He got Axel's cloths and wallet out of the saddle bags of the bike. 

“Shut up,” Axel glared.

Axel's other brother walk up behind Josh. "How are you feeling, brother?"

Axel grumbled, "I am fucking starved. You want to go get me a burger and fries, Eric?"

[revol-lover]

i know i have become a shit post queen but this site is a good place to just dump thoughts when i’m too lazy to actually write them down so don’t mind me. also i’m “ok enough”. like i’m not ok-ok but i’m not like badly not ok. 

ok? anyway.

so idk what it is. being raised by emotionally distant parents esp my mom or the depression thats probably also related to that but man i just feel so empty for such long periods of time. empty, or maybe detached is a better word. and just really really restless. and also that when i have good emotions, i dont feel them all that much. idk. sometimes i feel like i’m on the outside looking in on my life. i have a lot of feelings but then at the same time i dont. maybe because i repress a lot then it all builds up and explodes. idk. its awful though. 

i also feel like i have two very distinct sides to me. half of me is like fuck this shit i just want to self destruct but i wont because i’m too responsible to do that and the other half is like wow life is so interesting i am a spirit not a body and i want to be an enlightened being. neither of those sides of me is less me than the other. neither is a farce or anything but its fucking hard for those two sides of me to coexist. the only middle ground, which is probably like 1/3 of the time how i feel, is blah. neutral to absolutely everything.

and i think ive talked about this before but before the whole corona/quarantine thing i was at this extreme level of DONE with feeling isolated in my life, esp as a sahm. done with falling into the trap of believing being a mom was my whole identity (and its definitely a part of it, of course. but i think its unhealthy for moms to think its all we are) like i totally lost myself for a while. my daughters birth being traumatic and her having potential life long complications (and ‘potential’ meaning, her diagnosis is so complicated. theres never going to be a time where we get a real “all clear”. some kids have developed seizures again way down the road, especially at certain ages where kids go through a lot of development.) and then ofc just raising a child with all of that going on, plus normal toddler craziness, plus having a kid who is super hyper and smart and amazing but parenting after having a difficult relationship with your own mother is one of those things that is really hard and not talked about enough. i never feel like im doing enough. i never feel like she likes me.i know thats so stupid but i really am that insecure about my parenting, no matter how hard i try. i just want my child to love me and sometimes toddlers do things that make you feel like crap (ex ‘i dont want u mom i want daddy!’ and i can rationalize it, dad’s the exclusive parent. i’m just here all the time like the furniture. i get it.) and its just a big complicated thing with my emotions. not what i was trying to say tho i got off track.

anyway the isolation thing. so i had a plan. a plan!!! i have this one awesome long time friend, honestly my only friend outside of my husband who knows me like the good bad and ugly, has known me for a very long time, and has been there for me through some really tough shit. he’s like the brother i never had, truly. (i have a biological brother but we dont really talk.) so i talked to him about things i was going through and he’s also been going through a challenging time in his life and he told me he’d help me get out there. we were going to force me to learn to socialize and make friends in “real life” by putting me in those situations. we were going to go to some poetry club. a show downtown. like i was ready. then corona happened. and my already crawling out of my skin isolation got worse because hey we cant do anything now, not even see my one friend. 

so yeah. i was fine in the beginning of all this because i figured, hey by may itll be over! then hey by june! then maybe 4th of july. which has become, my daughter is so excited about her birthday party in august and i dont even know if i can throw her one and i dont know how to deal with this or explain it to her.

i know this is major first world problems and im all over the place and i document this dumb shit because i hope one day i’ll be so far past it and be able to look back and think well wow i made it through 2020  but yeah idk

i think part of it is i’m turning 27 in two weeks and my saturn return thing is just getting so close and i’m starting to see the beginning of shit in my life crumbling underneath me. like i know what i gotta do. i  have to put myself out there. i have to get out of my safety zone. and i have to use my gifts to help others not just sit here drowning in my self pity but obviously its hard to challenge yourself and put yourself out there, literally, during a pandemic. 

and the last point which is just something that boggles my mind about myself that i dont understand. like i’m definitely depressed. i have very bad anxiety too. and even though i can be extremely self pitying and go into like a black hole of sadness, i still dont let myself do bad things. which is good, obviously. but its iike i’ve been recovered from self injury for probably about ten years but some days i am so deep in my shitty feelings or empty feelings that i just want to do it again but i cant. theres something in me that wont let me. and i guess im glad for that, obviously. i guess my life/universe/guardian angel is trying to force me to face shit for real and not just have shitty coping mechanisms but idk. like it was a bad outlet but idk. sometimes, just sometimes, i feel like it did more for me than just writing things out. which is bullshit because it did nothing for me except give me a bunch little permanent reminders of shitty times. but idk. that’s my brain for you. sometimes i want to just let it all go and be a mess in my feelings and not care if i’m ok but then my brain is like nope bitch you cant do that. youre not 17 anymore, get up.

and i know some people would read this (well no - no one would read all this lmao but in a theoretical sense) and think like, oh did you try therapy or oh maybe try meds and the thing is 

therapy - i tried it. i liked the idea of it. bad fit with the therapist tho. didnt like being kicked out after 45 min (which i understand but bitch i need more than that to explain one problem) and it felt weird to be told by her, that she felt like i had a good handle on things. cause i dont really feel that way and i feel like she didnt have much to tell me  in terms of how to idk fix myself besides journaling, which i’ll give her. it helps

meds: i i dont really want to go that route yet because my body is really sensitive to medication. like i dont even take bc or anything like that. however i think ive decided that since its super legal and obtainable i might try pot once we are able to move into our own place. so if anyone did actually read this far and have experience with that (esp w anxiety) please enlighten me. i had some samples of some cbd stuff and it was amazing for my anxiety but it’s way too expensive for me to use consistently.

this has been a very long shit post but i feel better so theres that.

[study-coffee-chicago]

Seasons of PD: Season 5: PTSD (A Halstead brothers + Halstead! sister imagine)

As always, I don't own any quotes from 5x01 of Chicago PD!

Your age: 16

Jay's age: 30

Will's age: 32

"I just talked to Ballistics. The bullet that hit the little girl was a nine-millimeter."

"I thought the bangers were firing 45s."

"They were."

"You're saying I shot that little girl?"

That. That was the conversation that was replaying in Jay's head as he sat on the couch of his apartment that afternoon. How could he call himself a cop, a good cop, if it was him who shot that girl? He should've known that there an illegal daycare center there, even though no one could've known, he still should've figured it out somehow. But, he was taking heavy fire and he did what he needed to do. But, that didn't make him feel any better. A little girl was in critical condition and fighting for her life at Chicago Med because of him. It was all his fault.

***

Your mind wandered back to the day earlier in the year when it was your sixteenth birthday...and you had gotten the iPhone that was currently blowing up with Twitter notifications all about Jay.

You had gone for breakfast with your dad because he had completed the 12 Steps of Alcoholics Anonymous and was doing a lot better. He also had visitation rights after he completed the 12 Steps, so he had the right to see you. Since you were 16, you could refuse, but you didn't want your dad to feel bad. And, from what you had heard from Will who had been going to see how he was doing to see if it was safe for you to see him, he was doing really well.

During breakfast, he had given you a gift. You opened it and immediately recognized the bracelet.

"Is this Mom's?" you asked. "I thought you said you couldn't find it when I asked for it when I was like ten."

"I've kept it all these years, I was just waiting for the right time to make sure you'd be able to take care of it and not lose it."

You remembered playing with the charm bracelet when you were little when it dangled off your mom's wrist. There were a bunch of different charms from places she had gone, such as Mount Rushmore, Washington DC, a record charm that she had bought in Hollywood, and for other special occasions, such as a steering wheel charm she got from her parents when she got her driver's license, a graduation cap she got for graduation which she also got from her parents, a wedding dress charm which symbolized the day she married your dad, among other charms.

"Thank you," you replied as you held back tears.

He'd changed, he'd recovered, but there's still no way you'd go back to live with him.

***

"How was breakfast with Dad?" Jay asked as you walked into the apartment after you had breakfast.

"Good. He's doing really good, Jay." You walked up to him and opened the small gift box you were holding. "He gave me this." You held the box out to him and he smiled.

"Mom's charm bracelet?" You nodded. "Want me to put it on you?"

"Please."

Jay's breath hitched as he took the bracelet out of the box. It was like he was holding a little piece of his mom, and this piece of your mom would forever be with you the moment he fastened the clasp.

"It's perfect," you said as you fiddled with a few charms.

You both sat in silence for a few moments, just thinking about the fact that this was your mom's and it was now yours.

"Ready to go get your license?" Jay asked, breaking the silence.

"Is that even a question? Yes!"

You had taken your driver's test a week ago after completing the long process of going through two segments of driver's training classes, taking a written test, securing your learner's permit, and accumulating 50 or more hours of driving practice with either Jay or Will.

Jay chuckled at your excitement. "You good with how you look? You'll have the same license photo until you're 21, you know?"

"Let me go put on some lipstick!"

"Not that super dark reddish-purple one!"

"Yes, that super dark reddish-purple one! It's my favorite and it looks good on me!" you yelled as you ran to your room.

Once you had applied your lipstick, you and Jay made your way to the Secretary of State with all the necessary documents for you to get your license.

***

"Why's my license vertical and not horizontal like yours?" you asked after you exited the building with your brand new license.

"You get a horizontal one when you're 21. Just makes it easier for us cops to identify if you're underage if we ask for your license. And for bartenders to know you're underage if you try to buy alcohol."

"Oh, okay."

"You wanna drive?" Jay asked you.

"Sure. It's no different than me having my permit, though because you'll be in the car," you pointed out.

"So, you don't want to drive."

"No, I do!"

"That's what I thought."

He handed you the keys and you unlocked his truck. You both got in and you started adjusting the seat and the rearview mirror.

"Don't forget to--"

"Adjust the side mirrors. I know, Jay, I know. We've been through this a ton. Trust me."

"You're essentially driving a missile down the road, excuse me if I get nervous."

You rolled your eyes and started to drive, but when you were supposed to turn right, he told you to go left.

"Where are we going?" you asked.

"The district," he answered.

"Why?"

"You'll see. Just drive. I'll give you directions because we both know you're bad with those."

"Shut up!"

"What? We both know it's true!"

"No comment."

When you got there, Jay told you to park in front of what he called the "roll-up". To say you were confused would be an understatement; you didn't even know what this was!

"It's where we load our weapons and drive out sometimes. It's the basement," Jay explained.

"Where the cage is?"

"How do you know about that?"

"Adam told me about it. And then when you and  Erin were on  a lunch run for everyone, he showed it to me."

"I'm gonna have to talk to him about that."

Once you finished parking, you turned off the car and handed the keys back to Jay. Then, Jay did this weird, complicated knock on the garage door of the roll-up.

"Surprise!"

You were met with Will standing there. Behind him, was a car, with a bow on top.

"Is this mine?" you asked.

"Yup," Will confirmed. "Dude," he said to Jay, "You're lucky Goodwin let me out early."

"2010 Buick," Jay said as you walked over to examine the car more. "Seized it from a mob boss two weeks ago. It was going to be impounded, but Kev's got a really good car guy, so I didn't have to pay a lot for it."

"Wait," you started, "So this is just from you, Jay?"

"My gift is in your driver's seat," Will said and then he tossed you the keys. Somehow you caught them...you weren't the best when it came to hand-eye coordination.

You unlocked it using the fob and opened the driver's side door. There, on the driver's seat, was a box. And, not just any box: an Apple box.

"Is this...?"

"Open it." Will smiled.

So you did and you squealed so loud that Jay covered his ears. "Damn, high-pitched screams...sometimes worse than the sound of gunshots."

"Sorry! I'm just so excited! I can't believe I got a car and iPhone! You guys are the best! I love you guys so much!"

"We figured it'd save me a ton of time in the morning not to have to drive you to school and, if I get called into a case early or stay at work late, then I wouldn't have to find someone to drop you off or pick you up. And, figured I could always track your phone if necessary," Jay answered.

"I knew there was a catch," you answered.

"Always is," Will joked.

"Are there traps still in the car?" you asked, causing Jay's eyes to go wide.

"How do you know about those?"

"I watch crime shows."

"No," he answered. "Made sure that was one of the very first things Kev's car guy did: remove the traps."

"Aw, man! I was gonna have fun with those!"

"And put what in them?" Will asked. "Candy? Those fancy pens you like?"

"One, there's two different kinds I like: Papermate pens and calligraphy pens. And two, a little bit of this, a little bit of that."

"Care to specific on what those might be?" Jay asked.

"Not really."

"May I remind you that I am a cop and can toss your bedroom like--" He snapped his fingers. "--that."

"Don't you need a warrant for that?"

"It's my house, so I can do what I want. And, I hope I don't need to bring charges against you for whatever you're hiding."

You burst out laughing. "You guys, I'm kidding. I just wanted to see Jay's reaction when I mentioned traps! I wouldn't do anything...especially with Jay as my brother. I'm not that stupid."

"Oh thank God," Jay sighed.

"Can we go? A little birdie let it slip that there's a surprise party for me at the apartment."

Will glared at Jay. "What?" Jay asked as he put his hands up in a sign of surrender. "I promise you I did not say a single word about it."

"Mhm." Will rolled his eyes.

"Y/N, would this little birdie be Ruzek?" Jay asked.

"No comment."

"I am never telling him anything remotely secretive again."

But now, you kinda wished you didn't have that phone. Because, all over Twitter, there were people who didn't even know your brother who was saying that he was a racist cop and a child killer.

***

You walked inside to see a very distraught Jay. he was sitting on the couch with his head in his hands. And, even though you could only see one side of his face from where you were standing, you could see the dried tear tracks on his cheeks.

"So, it's true?" you asked. Jay jumped and looked at you. "Sorry. Didn't mean to scare you."

"H-How do you know what happened?"

You sat down next to him. "Twitter. My mentions were blowing up."

"Y/N, you gotta believe me. I wouldn't intentionally shoot a little girl--"

"Jay, I believe you."

"At least she's at Med. Will said she's got a good chance of making it."

"Oh, you didn't hear." He furrowed his eyebrows. "She passed away. I got a notification about it like an hour ago. I'm so sorry, Jay."

"Fuck," was all he said as he buried his head in his hands and began sobbing.

You wanted to comfort him, you really did, but you had no idea what to say. You knew Jay was a good cop and, whatever happened, you knew that he wouldn't purposely kill an innocent little girl. So, you just put a hand on his shoulder as he continued to sob, reminding him that you were still there.

"I'm gonna go talk to Will," he said as he stood up a few minutes later.

He walked over to the kitchen sink and splashed his face with water and dried it with some paper towels while you walked over to him.

"I'll drive you," you told him. "You're not in any shape to be driving right now. I know you'd tell me the same thing."

"No, Y/N, I can drive myself."

"This isn't up for discussion, Jay."

"Yes, it is. My picture's all over the internet. If someone decides to come after me, I don't want you near me out in public. I need you to be safe. Just stay here. Please." His voice cracked on the last word.

"Fine."

"Thank you."

"But please try your best to get home in one piece."

Jay nodded and grabbed his jacket. "I'll be back soon."

But, what he was thinking was totally different. After what I did, I don't deserve to come home in one piece.

***

Jay stormed into the ED just as Will was leaving a treatment room and Will caught sight of Jay and walked towards him.

"You said she was gonna make it!" Jay practically yelled.

"Hey," Will said, quieter, trying to use his trying-to-calm-down-a-patient-voice to hopefully make Jay calm down.

"You said she was gonna..." Jay took a deep breath, trying to keep the tears at bay.

"Hey, I said she had a chance, okay? She was in bad shape. Lost too much blood."

"I know."

"There's only so much we can do."

"I know. I'm sorry. I just...the bullet came from my gun. Even though I was aiming at an offender, it went through his abdomen and through a fucking door and into her, Will. Even though it was an accident, I still shot her. I killed an eight-year-old little girl. I killed her."

***

"50-21 George!" Jay yelled into his radio. "I'm taking heavy fire! I got two civilians down in the north alley behind the building."

"This is Sergeant Hank Voight. Advise responding units to shut down a two-block radius."

"Help! Help!"

Jay turned his attention to the building and when he saw it was clear, he pushed open the wooden door and entered.

He nearly choked when he saw what happened.

It was you. You were eight years old, clutching Beary in one hand while Hailey held you and tried to stop the bleeding.

"Y/N!" He had no idea why you were even here, maybe your parents couldn't afford a good, legal daycare center because of your mom's medical bills, but whatever it was, you were here, and you had somehow been shot. He kneeled down next to you and all but threw his sniper on the ground.

"Alright, I'm gonna call an ambulance," Hailey said.

"We don't have time." Somehow, he was aware of where his keys were in his tactical gear. "Go get my car. Fast."

He handed over the keys. "Ready?" Hailey asked as Jay positioned his hands above hers to try and stop the bleeding the minute she removed her hands.

Jay nodded and quickly replaced Hailey's hands with his as she sprinted off to get his truck.

But, then the scene changed.

It became hotter. Jay could feel the dry heat in his mouth and in his throat. He felt the sweat trickle down his face and back. He felt beads of sand on his hands and arms. He looked down to see you resting your head against his leg. And, he wasn't in his normal clothes that he'd wear to work. No, he was in his Rangers uniform.

He had his hands over the same spot on your chest as he had in the daycare center. And, you still had Beary in your hand, albeit a very loose grip on him.

You coughed, causing some blood to come out of your mouth.

"No, Y/N, not like this. Not like this." He removed one hand from the wound and applied all the pressure he could with one hand while he reached for his radio. "This is Halstead to Base." Crackles. "This is Halstead to Base." More crackles. "Please. This is Halstead to Base. I need a med truck now! My sister's been shot." No response. "Please. She's only-- She's only eight years old." His voice cracked. "Please."

You coughed once more and Jay knew trying to reach Base was useless at this point. Jay took his canteen and dabbed a little bit of water on your face and smeared it around, trying to clean the blood off your face. But, as fast as he could clean it, more would come up and out of your mouth.

You let out a strangled breath. Jay knew that sound. That was the sound of someone's last gasp of air that they'd ever take.

"Y/N, please. Please, Short Stack. Stay with me. Help will come. Please, just hang on a little longer."

Then, he saw the all too familiar look of empty eyes in front of him. He let out a strangled sob as he placed his fingers on your eyelids and gently pulled them closed.

Jay shot up in bed with a start. He reached for his chest, feeling for his radio to try and call for help again. It was only when his fingers brushed his bare chest that he realized that he wasn't in the desert of Afghanistan, but in the safety of his own bed, in his own apartment, here stateside, here in Chicago.

He went into the bathroom after his breathing calmed down and jumped into a freezing cold shower, hoping to get the image of an eight-year-old you being shot and killed by his gun out of his head.

But it wouldn't leave.

Jay dried off and then quietly made his way out of his room and over to yours.

He crouched down by your bed and watched as your chest rose and fell, signaling that you were in a deep sleep. You were sleeping on your side and had one leg thrown over the other and a few toes sticking out from under the covers. Beary was next to you. You weren't clutching him like in his nightmare, hell you weren't even holding him, but he was still in your bed. Jay was pretty sure that if that bear wasn't in your bed at night, you wouldn't be able to sleep, despite you being sixteen.

Jay longed to put two fingers to your neck just to check your pulse and make sure he wasn't hallucinating the rising and falling of your chest. But, he knew that was paranoid. He could trust his instincts now. After all, he was awake. There was no stifling heat, no hot sweat (at least, after his shower there wasn't), and no sand. All that was below him was the fluffy rug on your bedroom floor.

He slowly left your room and went back to his. But, instead of getting into bed, he tugged his comforter off his bed and grabbed his pillow. Then, he dragged those two things back into your room and settled down on your rug.

He knew it was probably paranoia, but after that dream, he wanted to make sure you were safe. He wanted to be close to you. Because, God, that dream felt so real.

She's alive, he kept reminding himself as he tried to fall asleep. And, that was the last thing on his mind when he finally fell asleep once more: that you were still alive.

***

Your alarm blared through your quiet room and you rolled over with a groan and turned it off.

"Christ, that was loud. How deep of a sleeper are you?" Jay asked as he rolled over.

You looked at him with sleep still in your eyes. "What are you doing in here?"

"Was a rough night." He yawned. "Just wanted to make sure you were okay."

"Okay...?"

"I say ten more minutes."

"Jay, I'll be late."

"I'll drive you, lights and sirens and all."

"Night."

***

"You okay?" you asked around 11:00 pm two weeks later when Jay finally got home from working a case.

"Yeah, just tired," he answered as he went to put his badge and gun away in his room.

"Are you sure it's just that?" you asked when he came out from his room in pajamas.

"I'm sure. Why are you asking?"

"You had that street fair bombing case and two weeks ago, a bullet from your gun--"

"Y/N, I'm fine. I promise. don't you have to get to bed?"

"Tomorrow's Saturday. I don't have school tomorrow."

"So it is. I'm gonna turn in. See you in the morning."

"Aren't you gonna eat something?" you asked.

"I'm not really that hungry. Goodnight."

You knew something was off, but you weren't going to push it, so you just grabbed the remote and started looking for a movie to watch.

***

You coughed, causing some blood to come out of your mouth.

"No, Y/N, not like this. Not like this." He removed one hand from the wound and applied all the pressure he could with one hand while he reached for his radio. "This is Halstead to Base." Crackles. "This is Halstead to Base." More crackles. "Please. This is Halstead to Base. I need a med truck now! My sister's been shot." No response. "Please. She's only-- She's only eight years old." His voice cracked. "Please."

You coughed once more and Jay knew trying to reach Base was useless at this point. Jay took his canteen and dabbed a little bit of water on your face and smeared it around, trying to clean the blood off your face. But, as fast as he could clean it, more would come up and out of your mouth.

You let out a strangled breath. Jay knew that sound. That was the sound of someone's last gasp of air that they'd ever take.

"Y/N, please. Please, Short Stack. Stay with me. Help will come. Please, just hang on a little longer."

Then, he saw the all too familiar look of empty eyes in front of him. He let out a strangled sob as he placed his fingers on your eyelids and gently pulled them closed.

He saw a figure moving towards him and in his hand, a grenade.

"Would you like to join her?"

Jay jolted awake, breathing raggedly. He tried to catch his breath and swallow, but it was no use, the familiar feeling of bile was rising in his throat and he dry heaved all the way to the bathroom before he finally emptied what little was in his stomach into the toilet.

Meanwhile, you furrowed your eyebrows as you slowly opened your eyes. You thought you had heard gagging, but it was gone now, so you tried to close your eyes and go back to sleep. But, then you heard gagging and the sound of something hitting what sounded like water.

Wait, was Jay sick? He never got sick.

You got out of bed and walked over to his room and quietly opened his door. From the dim light of the bathroom, and the disheveled covers on his bed, you knew he was in the bathroom.

"Jay?" you asked as you crept towards his bathroom.

"Y/N, l-leave. Please, just leave me alone ri-right now." You could tell from the sound of his voice that he was panting as if he had just run a marathon.

"Are you okay?"

No. "I'm fine. Just a stomach bug or food poisoning. Go back to bed."

You poked your head into the bathroom. Jay was leaning against the bathtub without a shirt on, with sweat dripping down his face. His mouth was wide open as if he was trying to capture as much oxygen as was humanly possible.

"Maybe I should call Will. I don't think he's on shift."

"Y/N, I'm fine."

"You don't look fine. You don't look fine at all."

"Y/N, go back to bed. Now."

"But--"

"I said go to bed! So how about you listen for once and just fucking do that? Jesus!"

Your breath caught in your throat. You'd never heard him yell like that...not directed at you at least.

"O-Okay."

You trudged back to your room and laid down. But, sleep didn't come for a while as tears rolled down your cheeks.

Jay put his head in his hands. He had yelled at you. Not only that, but he had sworn at you and you were just trying to help. God, he felt like a terrible brother, a terrible guardian, an overall terrible human being.

He tugged at the roots of his hair, hoping the bit of tugging from that physical pain would calm the mental and emotional pain that had been stirring inside of him for weeks. For weeks he's been like this. Ever since he had been put on his medication, he hadn't even had a nightmare and now he's had them every single day, and he's scared to sleep. What kind of police detective and ex-army ranger is afraid to sleep when they're safe in their own house? He was one of them and, God, he hated himself for it.

Not getting more than three restless hours of sleep per night was starting to have an impact on him at work. They all knew that a sleepy cop was a dead cop, but Jay was still alive. But, there were downfalls, such as getting jittery from all the caffeine he was ingesting early in the morning and then crashing and almost falling asleep doing reports when he had to work late. Well, he didn't have to work late per se, he decided to work late to put off sleeping. He knew none of this was helpful and none of this would solve the problem, but he thought it would be fine. Everything would be fine and the nightmares would eventually go away. They always do. And then everything would be normal again in his brain.

God, he longed for that: the normalcy.

So, for the umpteenth night in a row, he grabbed a pillow and a blanket and made his way to your bedroom to sleep on the floor to make sure you were alive. He put his watch on vibrate and set the alarm for 6 am because he knew you wouldn't be awake that early...especially not on the weekend.

Only when the irrational part of his brain was sure that you weren't going to die, did he finally find solace in sleep.

***

Went to get coffee with Will and to work on homework. Be home eventually, you scribbled on a sticky note and stuck it on the back of the apartment door before you left. Jay had gotten called in to work a case earlier this morning, and you needed a change of scenery to work on some AP World History homework.

You grabbed your backpack, keys, and wallet, and made your way to the parking garage. Then, you left.

About ten minutes later, you arrived at the coffee shop. Not seeing Will, you set your stuff down and went to grab a coffee and a muffin. Don't get it wrong, Jay still didn't like the fact that you drank coffee, but you only drank it when you went out to get it. It wasn't like you drank it every morning or drank two or three cups a day like he did.

You started to read your textbook and take some notes on the vocab. You were so focused that you jumped when Will slid into the chair across from you and said your name.

"Sorry," he apologized. "Lots to do?"

"Not a ton," you replied. "Just gotta read a chapter and take some notes. Then I'm done with homework for the weekend."

"So, you said you think something's up with Jay?" Will asked.

You had texted him that morning to see if you could meet up because you were worried. You had seen how tired he looked and how he poured his coffee into a larger tumbler than normal, one that was almost double the size of his normal one. Bags under his eyes and more coffee than normal had given you the impression that Jay was no longer sleeping, and rightfully so.

"I don't think he's sleeping," you told him.

"And you know this how?" Will asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Because he looks like shit- sorry, he looks like crap, and he drinks a ton more coffee in the morning than he normally does."

"Maybe he just doesn't like the coffee at the district and is bringing more from home," he suggested.

"I don't think so."

"Is he still working out? Still going to the gym?"

"I think so. I'm usually still asleep when he goes, so I wouldn't know either way."

"Anything else?"

"Uh, actually, yeah." You closed your textbook. "I'm pretty sure he was sick last night."

"Sick? Like how sick?"

"He was puking. I wanted to call you but he told me no."

"How'd you find him?"

"Leaning against the bathtub, no shirt, dripping sweat, and mouth wide open."

"I see," Will said. "Anything else?"

"Yeah. Last night when I mentioned calling you, he said he was fine. But, when I pushed, he told me to leave and when I told him no, he yelled and cursed at me."

"He swore at you?" Will grit his teeth.

"Yeah," you whispered. "I don't know what's going on, Will. He hasn't been himself lately."

"Hey, I'll figure it out, okay? I'll make sure he's okay. I can even come over later tonight and check him out if you want me to."

"He'll fight you on that."

"I'm used to unruly patients. Is that what you--" His phone rang and he held up a finger to you to wait for a second while he answered. "Hey, Maggie. What's up?" He paused and then sighed. "I'll be right there." He hung up the phone and started gathering his stuff.

"What? Did something happen and you have to go to work?" you asked.

"Oh, something happened all right. I just got a call saying Jay was brought into Med."

You started to pack up your backpack and grabbed your keys. "I'll follow you there."

***

Jay didn't know what happened. One second he was driving, blinking heavily, the next Hailey was yelling at him and had reached over to grab the wheel, but it was too late. He was too close. When he opened his eyes, he tried to slam on the brake, but it didn't help. The next millisecond, he and Hailey crashed into an electrical pole in Pilsen.

He was awake after that.

"What the hell happened?" Voight asked after he had thrown his car in park and he and Al rushed over to Jay and Hailey.

"I think he fell asleep at the wheel," Hailey answered as she and Jay both stepped out of the truck.

"I did not," Jay protested.

"Oh yeah? Then how do you explain you just running into an electrical pole when there weren't even cars running us off the road?" Hailey yelled.

"I didn't fall asleep! I'm fully awake! Just drop it, Upton."

"Drop it? You do know if we would've hit that at full speed and it fell on us that we could've been electrocuted to death, right?"

"But that didn't happen--"

"Halstead, Upton, I'm bringing both of you to Med to get checked out. After that, you're going home to get some rest, Halstead. You look like hell," Voight told them.

"Sarge--"

"This isn't up for discussion. Get in the damn car." The two detectives walked to Voight's car, while Voight turned to Alvin. "Call Platt to get us some patrolmen to help. You good waiting here for them to pick you up while I bring them to Med?"

"Yeah, go. I'll handle this."

When Jay finally got to Med, to say he was not happy would be an understatement. He didn't need to be in the hospital and he sure as hell didn't need to be kicked off the case and told to go home to get some rest.

"Mags, what room is he in?"

Shit, they had called Will.

"Treatment Four."

Will walked into the room followed by you.

"You didn't have to come, neither of you did."

"Well, too bad," Will said. "Should've put her as your emergency contact instead of me. Oh wait, you can't, she's still too young. Guess you're stuck with me."

"All set," Hailey said as she walked in. "You ready to go?"

"Who's this?" you asked.

"My new partner," Jay told you. "Hailey, this is Y/N and Will, my siblings I told you about. Y/N and Will, my new partner, Hailey Upton."

"Nice to meet you. I've heard good things."

Will scoffed. "Would one of those good things be that Jay absolutely hates hospitals and I always have to make sure he doesn't leave against medical advice?"

"He didn't mention that, no."

"Well, either way, nice to meet Jay's new partner. Do you mind if I talk to him? Privately?"

"No problem."

Will turned to you. "You too, Y/N. Go grab some food or hang out with Hailey or something."

Will focused his attention on Jay when you and Hailey had left the treatment room. "Y/N told me she doesn't think you're sleeping and from what I heard from Maggie about why you were brought in here, don't even bother lying to me."

"I'm fine, Will, really. Nothing to worry about."

"Fine then. I'm gonna go order a blood test."

"Blood test? You're not even on shift! And, you can't even be my doctor if you were!" Jay protested.

"I read that April's your nurse, so I'm going to go find her and tell her to order a blood test then."

"Why?"

"To see if your plasma cortisol levels are elevated and if your cortisol testosterone levels have decreased," Will answer matter-of-factly.

"And you need those because...?"

"If the plasma cortisol level is elevated and the cortisol testosterone level is lowered, then those are both indicators that you haven't been sleeping. Be back, little brother."

Jay groaned and threw his head back. He didn't think he'd need to be stuck with a needle today. If only had put someone else down as his emergency contact, then this wouldn't be happening. Or, if his brother just wasn't a doctor or didn't work at this specific hospital then this wouldn't be happening, either.

***

Jay was walking you to school when you were eight years old. On your back, you had your backpack and you were holding Jay's hand and skipping to keep up with his long strides. Jay chuckled at how cute and innocent you were. He didn't want you to ever grow up.

"Jay Jay," you started, causing him to look down at you, "Did you get all the bad guys when you left?"

"Why do you ask?" He swallowed. He knew if you asked the right questions, he might not know how to answer them. And, his last tour was horrific, losing all the members of his unit except Mouse...the burning Humvee...the combatants still coming towards them...

"I don't know. I just wanted to know if there were any left?" you asked.

"There probably are."

"Do you have to go back there? Do you have to leave again to go fight the bad guys?"

Jay's breath hitched. He was honorably discharged after what had happened, so he wouldn't have to back. But, as he was thinking about how to answer you, the scene changed.

Screaming. All he could hear was screaming and the crackling of flames.

He looked around saw the scene from his last tour, his Humvee flipped over with all the members of his unit currently burning to crisp. He and Mouse had been walking behind, keeping watch of their six which is why they weren't in there.

"Help! Jay Jay, help!" He heard you scream and racked his brain from where that could be coming from because you were an ocean away, no way were you actually there.

"Dude, your sister's in there!" And Mouse took off running.

Jay quickly caught up to him. "What? She's not here! She's at home in Chicago!"

"No, she's not! You couldn't bear to leave her, so you brought her with you!"

Okay, now Jay knew he was caught in the midst of a nightmare because he would never do that. He would never bring a little girl into the midst of a war where she could get hurt or killed. Damn that melatonin he took that night because he was currently in so deep a sleep that he couldn't wake up.

"Jay Jay!"

He took off running again and came up to the edge of the Humvee. Your leg was crushed under it and it was one of the only parts of the vehicle that hadn't caught fire...yet. He needed to get you out and he needed to get you out fast or else you would be burned to death. But, to do that, he knew he'd be sacrificing your leg.

"Mouse! Get me a tourniquet and the biggest knife you have! Make sure you sterilize it!" Jay shouted. You let out a whine.

"You're doing a field amputation?" Mouse asked as he grabbed the supplies.

"I don't have any other choice." You let out a whimper. "Hey, hey, look at me. Focus on me. I'm gonna get you out of there."

"P-Promise?" you asked as tears ran down your cheeks.

"I promise. Now I need you to hold really still and be a brave girl, okay? Can you be brave for me?" You nodded as Mouse handed Jay the equipment for the tourniquet. "This is going to hurt," Jay warned you as he slid the piece of fabric underneath your leg and then started tying it.

You screamed out in agony.

"I know, I know. But, It's gotta be tight. It's gotta be tight, kiddo."

"Jay! Nine o'clock!"

Jay turned to his left and pointed his gun straight at the combatant.

"Jay...Jay..." he heard your voice wavering as you tried to get his attention. But, it didn't sound like your voice. It sounded lower, more mature even. "Jay, please." the voice that sounded like you was pleading now. "Jay Jay, please. You're- You're safe."

Jay snapped his eyes open.

There you were, at sixteen years old, holding your hands up in surrender. He was home, in Chicago.

"Jay, please," you whispered once more.

It was only when he looked down that he realized he must've thought you were the combatant in his dream because he had his service weapon pointed straight at you.

He dropped his gun onto his bed. "Y/N, I- you gotta believe me. That wasn't--"

But you were already running out of his room to grab your keys and get as far away from Jay as possible.

***

Will was awoken to a loud knocking on his door at 2:37 in the morning. "Who the fuck is here right now?" he muttered as he rubbed his eyes and stood up and threw on a shirt.

But, all his anger at being woken up at this ungodly hour washed away as he looked through the peep-hole and saw you, tears still streaming down your face.

He yanked the door open. "Y/N, what are you doing here?"

"He pointed a gun at me!" you wailed as you entered.

Will shut the door and made his way over to you. "Who? Did you tell Jay? Where were you?"

"Jay was the one who did it, Will! He pointed the- the gun right at me!"

Will's breath caught in his throat. He had his hunches that Jay was having nightmares again based on what you had told him and based on him falling asleep while driving and based on his blood work, but he didn't think they'd have gotten this bad. "Are you okay? he asked you quietly.

You shook your head and Will led you over to the couch.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

You sighed. "I heard him scream, so I woke up to see what was wrong. When I walked- When I walked into his room he was squeezing his pillow with his hand like he was holding something. He was dripping sweat."

You paused and took a deep breath.

"It's okay," Will told you. Take your time."

"Then, he just, he just whipped around and grabbed his gun from- from on top of his nightstand. I don't why it wasn't in the safe where it usually is. And that's when he..."

"That's when he pointed it at you?"

You nodded as tears rolled down your cheeks. "I said his name over and over and he finally snapped out of it."

"And that's when you came here?"

You nodded again.

"Well, how about we put on a movie, and then you can try to get some sleep. I'll stop over at Jay's tomorrow when you're at school. I'm pretty sure you have some clothes here just in case."

"Thanks, Will."

"No problem, Short Stack."

***

Jay heard a knock on his door the next day. Will had texted him and told him that you were safe and at his place because Jay had been blowing up Will's phone looking for you. So, at least he wasn't worried about that anymore.

Jay sipped his beer and waited for the knocking to stop, but it just became increasingly louder.

"Jay, open the damn door!"

Reluctantly, with beer still in hand, Jay stood up and opened his apartment door. "What the hell are you doing here?" Jay asked.

"Gimme that," Will said as he ripped the beer bottle from Jay's hand after he'd entered his apartment. "And, for your information, I'm making sure you're not drinking yourself to death." He looked around at the two other empty beer bottles on the counter. It wasn't even one o'clock in the afternoon yet. "Which, I guess I came just in time."

"Just let me drink it." Jay tried to take the bottle back, but Will held it out of his reach. Then, he made his way over to the kitchen sink and poured it out.

"Shit, man. I paid for that."

"I don't really give a damn right now, Jay. You pointed a fucking gun at our little sister. She came to my place bawling last night. You're lucky she didn't get into a car accident because of how distraught she was when she was driving."

"I know, I know. I fucked up, okay?"

"Oh, yeah, you fucked up all right. This is probably the single-handed worse thing you've done in your entire life."

"Did you just come here to lecture me?" Jay yelled. "If so, the door's that way and you can get the hell out!"

Will sighed. "I didn't come here just to do that, but I needed to get that out first. You need to talk to someone about this, Jay."

"I'm talking to you. Isn't that enough?"

"A trained professional."

"You are a trained professional."

"I'm a trained medical professional, not a trained psychological professional."

Jay sat on the couch and put his head in his hands. That scene from last night had been replaying in his head for almost twelve hours now.

Him hearing your voice...seeing you with your hands raised while they were shaking...how much of whisper your voice was...the feeling of guilt that swallowed him whole when he noticed he was holding his service weapon...you sprinting out of the house in the middle of the night...

"Jay," Will said, snapping him out of his thoughts. "You still with me?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm still here. Sorry." He paused. "Last night, I guess I was so out of it that I forgot to lock up my gun and left it on my bedside table. If I had just locked it up, this wouldn't have happened. If I just wouldn't have taken the melatonin, this wouldn't have happened. If I was just able to fucking sleep this wouldn't have happened."

"How long haven't you been sleeping?" Will asked gently.

"The nightmares started when I shot that little girl, Will."

"Jay, it's been weeks since that happened."

"I know. And they just keep getting worse. At first, it was Y/N who was the little girl I shot when I was chasing the offenders when the bullet went through the illegal daycare center. And then, they started turning into me being overseas and Y/N somehow being with me and her being shot over there. Last night- last night was the worst."

"You don't have to tell me what happened if you don't want to."

"Thank you," Jay replied. Because in all honestly, that was one of the worst nightmares he's ever had since getting on his medication.

"Is that why you're sleeping on Y/N's bedroom floor?"

"How'd you know? I didn't even think she knew."

"She knows. She said she'll wake up in the middle of the night and you'll be there, on her floor, with a pillow and a blanket, and you'll sneak out before she wakes up."

"I just, I needed to make sure she was safe. I needed to make sure she was still alive, Will."

"I really think you need to talk to someone. Maybe ask about getting your meds increased."

"I've been on the same dose for over two years now. You really think they'd need to be upped?"

"It's a possibility. But, we need to talk about Y/N now."

Jay sighed. "Yeah. Yeah, we do. I have no idea what to do, Will. I'm supposed to be her legal guardian and I couldn't even keep her safe. I was the one who made her feel not safe."

"I know it's gonna be hard for you to hear this," Will started, "but, she doesn't want to come back here for a little while."

"Yeah, I figured that when she didn't answer my texts."

"Listen, she and I talked this morning, and if you go see someone today or tomorrow and see someone about getting your meds upped, she'd stay with me for two weeks so the meds have time to get into your system, and then we'll go from there."

"So, all I have to do is get my meds upped?"

"Well, that might be the best option. But, I still think you should talk to someone, Jay. Either a therapist or a psychiatrist or even a veteran's support group might be helpful."

"Okay. But, can you just tell her that I'm so sorry? And that, I wasn't in my right mind? I didn't know it was her, I swear."

"I know you didn't. Now, no more drinking, you have appointments to schedule." Will paused. "Have you talked to Voight? Maybe you shouldn't be working while you're trying to figure this out."

"I do not need to take time off."

"Yes, you do. Do you want our little sister to hate you or not?"

"Fine. I'll take two weeks furlough."

"That's all I ask. Please do not get shitfaced because I will babysit you if I have to."

"Then who's gonna stay with Y/N?"

"I'll figure something out."

***

"You're sure I'm good to go back?" you asked Will as you walked into yours and Jay's apartment building.

"Y/N, he hasn't had a nightmare in a week and a half. Everything's gonna be fine," Will answered.

"I know. I know I shouldn't be scared of my own brother, but, uh, what happened that night, it was..."

"Terrifying?" Will finished for you.

"Yeah, that."

"Well, I'll be there the entire weekend in case anything happens."

"Thanks, Will."

***

Later that night, you laid in bed, trying to fall asleep. But, you couldn't. You just couldn't shake the feeling of walking into Jay's room to try and wake him from a nightmare and having a gun pointed right at you. You couldn't shake the feeling that maybe tonight was the night that Jay would have a nightmare and end up sleepwalking into your bedroom with his gun drawn.

So, you were sitting up in bed, at 3:30 am, having just finished your last movie an hour and a half ago with your lamp on and the current book you were reading open.

You heard the sound of your door opening and looked up.

You held your breath.

Jay was in your room.

"Y/N, what are you still doing awake?" he asked, slowly moving closer to you so he didn't scare you.

You sighed in relief. He was conscious. He was awake.

"I can't sleep," you answered honestly.

"Is it because of me? That you can't sleep?" You looked down and that was all the confirmation Jay needed. "Look, I'm sorry. I know I've said it a lot these past few weeks, but I'm truly sorry. You have to understand that it wasn't me."

"I know. I just, you scared you me, Jay. I was scared I was going to die that night."

"Y/N, I wouldn't be able to live with myself if that happened."

"And you haven't had any nightmares?"

"None in over ten days," he answered.

"Then why are you in my room? I know you come in here sometimes after you have nightmares."

"I came to make sure you were sleeping. Will mentioned you were nervous and I know you don't like to sleep when you're nervous."

"Oh." You paused. "Can you tell me what you were dreaming about? When you pointed the gun at me?"

"Y/N, I'd really prefer not to. I don't want to go back there."

"I get it," you said. "It's traumatic. Like how even though Dad isn't drinking anymore, I don't want to go back and live with him."

"Exactly."

You moved over. "You can come sit if you want." Jay sat down on the bed next to you and handed you Beary so that he didn't squash him. You closed your book. "Can you tell me a story?"

"Like a fairytale like when you were little and Mom would make me read those princess books to you?" Jay chuckled.

"No, maybe a you and Will story or a me and you story from I was little and don't remember much?"

Jay thought for a second until he found the perfect one filed away in his brain under Y/N stories. "Do you remember that time when you brought your first aid kit on your bike because you had just made it in girl scouts?"

"A little, but not really."

"Okay, I'll tell you that one then."

"Jay Jay!" little seven-year-old you exclaimed as you run up to Jay. "Ride bikes with me?"

"I think my bike has a flat tire, but I can get my skateboard. Is that okay with you?" Jay asked.

"Yeah! But Mommy said you gotta wear a helmet because she said we gotta protect our heads," you told him while putting your hands on your hips.

"That's right! How could I forget that? I'll be right back and then we can go, okay?"

"Okay!"

While Jay ran off to find his bike, you ran off to get your first aid kit that you had just made in girl scouts and Beary to put in the little basket on the front of your purple princess bike.

You waited for him and when he reappeared with his skateboard and helmet, he asked what you had.

"Beary and this I made in girl scouts yesterday," you told him. "It has bandaids and this white tape and white soft stuff and wipies."

You handed it to him to take a look. Inside, there were different sizes of bandaids, medical tape, gauze, and antiseptic wipes. "This is such a good first aid kit, kiddo!"

"Thank you!"

You got your bike out of the garage and clipped on your helmet. Jay pressed down on the horn attached to your handlebars before stepping onto his skateboard.

You two rode down the street and then Jay got to a ramp that some kids had made. There was one ramp, a gap, and then another ramp.

"Jay Jay!" you exclaimed. "Can you go on that?"

Jay had gone on homemade skateboard ramps like those hundreds of times. Hell, he'd even made one home and he and Will would do kickflips in the air when going on it when your guys' mom was home. She'd have a heart attack if she saw her sons doing that.

"I can even do a trick while I'm in the air," Jay told you.

"Really?" you asked, your eyes going wide.

"Really. Wanna see?"

"Yes please!"

Jay started a few yards back from the first ramp and started propelling himself forward, gaining speed. Then, your jaw dropped as he skated onto the first ramp and into the air.

"Whoa," you whispered to yourself as he did his kickflip in midair between the two ramps.

But, Jay had overestimated the distance between the two ramps, so when he landed, he landed on the road and not the ramp with way too much force, causing him to fall off his skateboard and land on the ground, scraping his hands across the road.

"Jay Jay!" you yelled as you quickly kicked down your kickstand and grabbed your first aid kit. "Are you okay?" you asked.

Jay stood up and grabbed his skateboard. "I'm fine. Just a little blood, nothing to worry about."

"You're bleeding? Where? I can fix it."

He held up his right hand where his palm was a little bloody. You started to open your first aid kit and Jay knew there was no point in arguing with you, so he just crouched down to your height.

You grabbed a bandaid and started to open it. "You gotta clean it out first, nurse," Jay told you.

"Oh. With the wipey-thingies?"

"Yes, with those."

You opened one of the antiseptic wipes--with Jay's help because those were really hard to open!--and wiped down his palm. Then, you put the bandaid on.

"All better!" you exclaimed as you put the trash back into your first aid kit. "Can we keep going?" you asked.

"We sure can!"

You ran back to your bike and put the first aid kit into the basket next to Beary and then you got on your bike and caught up to Jay. And then, you were off around the block again.

"We really thought you were going to be a doctor or a nurse after that," Jay said. "But, then you realized you hated both math and science." He looked down at you. "Oh, you're asleep."

He set your book on your nightstand and turned off the lamp. Then, he slowly crept out of your room and closed the door, and went back to his room to fall into a nightmare-less sleep.

Despite Will sleeping on the couch, things were back to normal in yours and Jay's apartment and neither of you could've been happier.

A/N: Hey guys, I wanted to get this posted before I'm away for the weekend and probably without internet. As always, thank you for reading, and please reblog/like and comment! I love hearing what you guys think, as it gives me tons of motivation to keep writing! If you want to be added to my taglist, just tell me and I’ll add you!

taglist: @theambracer88 @virtualreader @kelelas-life @celyndavies @brookerz122493 @musicismyescape27 @anotherfan07 @thexplosivegirl @dreamingwithlens @xoxmariaxox @onechicago18 @iamasimpingh0e @i-like-sparkly-things 

[clarasfm]

–––––– hey  CLARA  SLOANE  ,  welcome  to  dillon  university  .  has  anyone  ever  told  you  you’re  ADDISON  RAE  ’s  twin  ?  no  ?  well  okay  ,  i  heard  you  are  NINETEEN  &  a  SOPHOMORE  at  the  university  .  we  hope  ATHLETIC  TRAINING  isn’t  kicking  your  ass  too  much  ,  especially  since  you’re  the  FOOTBALL  TEAM’S  DEFENSIVE  COORDINATOR’S  DAUGHTER  /  STUDENT  ATHLETIC  TRAINER  .  see  you  at  the  next  game,  SLOANE  &  cis female  +  she/her  .

CLICK HERE FOR A CUTE TRIP TO CLARA’S PINTEREST !! 

                        HELLO , FRIENDS ! i’m b and this is my idiot child clara . a handful & the epitome of chaotic good , if you will . under the cut you’ll find a little more about who she is !! i’m super excited to get started , so if you wanna plot feel free to come find me at local sad girl#9956 or like and i’ll come to you  to figure out if IMs or discord works better!! –––––––

background.

clara leigh sloane was born in small town, louisiana to a family that lived and breathed sports. her grandpa coached college football in the sec for years, ending his career with a national championship team that included his son, clara’s father. that was the same year clara’s older brother was born, the spitting image of her father and the sloane family’s pride & joy. it was then that, choosing coaching over a professional career for the sake of his son. five years later, clara came along.

her parents were college sweethearts, and they really thought they wanted the same things. one kid couldn’t save their marriage... two kids didn’t do the trick either, and when clara was five, her mother packed her things and left, never to be heard from again.

they were a happy little trio, though! traveling every now and then for the sake of dad’s job as a high school football coach. he had quite a few national championship titles under his belt at the high school level, all of which clara watched from the sidelines.

she grew up very interested in everything her dad and brother were doing. curious in general, honestly, but this began her love of sports. specifically: football and hockey. football, from her father. hockey, from her brother.

she and her brother were just far enough apart in age to never have to cross each others paths too much, but everyone who knew cameron–– clara’s brother–– knew her as little sloane. she never minded it, just as she never minded drowning in one of his old hockey jerseys from the sidelines and learning to skate with him also on the ice. he was .. her favorite person, honestly. and he didn’t mind his kid sister being around either.

life was relatively smooth sailing. never rich, but never going hungry. never short on love in the sloane household, and never boring with two kids that had crazy colorful personalities. like these two were just.. . . goofballs and they played off of  each other’s energy like it was nothing. comedians of family thanksgiving. choreographed living room routine. idiots, rly

when she was about 13, her dad got into coaching at the college level, taking a small school to a national championship before being hired by the university of michigan to turn their football program around.

he was given two years, and he couldn’t manage it, despite coming close. around the same time cameron got a full ride to dillon for hockey, their father got hired as the defensive coordinator at dillon. thus, the whole family picked up and moved to texas.

when she was a senior in high school, and cameron was a junior in college, cam was involved in a car accident that left him brain dead. after days in the hospital and exhausting resources, clara and her father said their goodbyes and he was gone. u know that scene in if i stay?? where the grandpa is like it’s okay.. you can leave go if you have to?? p much . .. that. clara held his hand until she was dragged away

there’s a bit of a grey cloud that hangs over the sloane family since. his room hasn’t been touched. his car sits under a tarp in a shed behind the house. their father doesn’t talk about it, never did, so clara just kinda navigated that grief alone. she’s... fINE REALLY SHE’S perfectly fine

but incapable of leaving dillon, it seems, as she chose to go there to stay close to her dad and to be close to cameron

she’s always loved the sidelines and has a very stem-wired brain, so she’s going for athletic training to be an athletic trainer... of course akjdhfa in hopes of working for the nfl or the nhl... or maybe med school to be an actual team-hired doctor

personality.

like i said!! the epitome of chaotic good. she’s got big sunshine energy and big idiot energy. to give you some references from pop culture: sheryl yoast from remember the titans, harper from set it up, fucking ace from nancy drew, annabeth chase from percy jackson and fuckin honestly?? sophie turner just in general 

very much ‘do no harm but take no shit’

a lot of her friendships are very surface level because she’s got this way about her that’s very optimistic, very fun, very sunshine and that’s kind of what people expect of her, so she doesn’t really let anyone see anything different than that. very few people get close to her, but those people?? she’d do anything for ... .. . lowkey she soft

stubborn! and! competitive! put them together and you have someone who hates not being immediately perfect at something. she gets frustrated with herself very very easily

very opinionated and does not hesitate to stand up for herself or others. this can kinda come off as a bit know it all sometimes, or like she’s incredibly sure of herself. she’s not. in fact, she’s.... not her own biggest fan. her older brother was golden, and losing him made her an only child in some sorts. that pressure to be perfect was now on her, and her strained relationship with her father certainly didn’t help that. nowadays he seems to be more interested in his work and getting to a head coaching spot at another university than anything else.

humor as a defense mechanism! sarcasm to deflect! this girl does it all! 

mild adhd & clear generalized anxiety disorder which does not help with the way she gets frustrated with herself becaaauuusssee...

she is intuitive as hell! she’s good at people! and problem solving! but being book smart comes a bit harder. she doesn’t struggle with school, but it isn’t a cake walk either. she’s needed help before, and she’ll probably need it again

kinda like a golden retriever in human form

a bit of an old soul meaning she’s really on her late 80s, early 90s shit

hopelessly optimistic about seeing the best in people, also kind of hopelessly romantic thanks to 80s films

literally never knows what’s going on but is hopeful she’ll figure it out eventually!

night owl af

there’s a scene in nancy drew where ace fully drinks a bottle of what could be water! but could also be poison! just to prove a point in the quickest way possible. that... sums clara up pretty well. stupid but for the greater good usually!!!

has never backed down from a dare

has a dog named maverick yes bc of top gun that she loves more than herself

wrinkles her nose when she hears something she doesn’t like bc the bitch wears her emotions on her face and cannot lie foR SHIT

was a competitive gymnast for A WHILE . . . but tore her acl and was like nOPE no not for me i’m good no thank you! but still works out like  a freak bc she likes feeling strong  :\

very invested in the games even though she’s supposed to be keeping a professional air about her. also a student athletic trainer for the hockey team when that season is under way

would rather die  than listen to any country music that came out after 2003 or toby keith like she may be  a southern gal but TASTE SHE HAS  TASTE

y’all know  lena from scooby doo zombie island??? a lil more subtle and you’ve got clara’s southern louisiana accent woof 

stress bakes but not... well 

big fan of busted sneakers

soft girl but don’t tell anyone.... no one can know

OKAY THAT’S IT THAT’S ALL 

[brunchbitch]

TW suicide

To everyone who has been commenting and sending me messages, thank you from the bottom of my heart. I don’t feel I can respond to each one individually bc I’m trying to just focus on resting, but I am very grateful.

I got moved out of the ICU this morning which was really nice, but I’m still on an EKG so they can continue to monitor my heart on the medical floor. My throat hurts soooo bad and I keep coughing up phlegm. I also discovered a big bump on my head that must’ve happened when I fell, so I’ve been icing that. I’m done with both IVs which is great bc one of them was hurting like a bitch. Not totally sure what next steps are going to be. I know they want to take a good look at my meds and, since I’m on so many, it’ll take some time to get me back on them. I’ll either be doing that on this medical floor so I can continue to be monitored closely, or will go to the psych unit here where i was before if they’re not as worried about the medical stuff. My sister in law came by yesterday and she told me that my nephew gave her the stuffed animal I gave to him after his surgery. He said he wanted me to have it and it made me burst into tears. He doesn’t know most of it, but he knows I’m sick. I feel terrible.

My mom and dad have been spending a lot of time here. They both spent the night the first night so they were there when the doctor pulled out the breathing tube at 2am. I feel fucking awful and am surprised they’ve been here so much when the DBT “protocol” in the past has been coaching them not to be here when I do stuff like this so it’s not reinforcing. I think it’s probably bc the doctors genuinely didn’t know when or even whether I would wake up. The doctors said if I had been in my apartment much longer, I would’ve stopped breathing. 

My mom has been crying a lot. She said the goodbye videos I made were devastating. She was surprised with how clear-headed I seemed, which made it a lot harder. I never meant for anyone to see those videos if I survived. There’s so much I don’t remember from that night and that scares me. I’m not sure if it was from the drinking or the pills or my brain just deciding to block it out bc it was traumatic, but I’ve had to be told a lot of what happened secondhand which is hard. I found out one of the really nosy neighbors in my building saw me being taken out to the ambulance and asked my dad what happened. He wasn’t sure what to say but he just told her I had been drinking too much. I’m humiliated bc I feel like she’s gonna tell everyone.

I also feel so fucking stupid bc in my video to one of my brothers and sisters in law, I told them how happy and excited I was for them (my SIL just told me she was pregnant this week but hadn’t told anyone else in my family). Mom said she was watching it with my dad, two of my brothers (not the same one), and my sister in law (not the pregnant one). Mom said at that point when I mentioned it, they all looked at each other and started laughing. I’m grateful there was one light-hearted moment. But when I started talking to my older brother/SIL in the video about how much I love them and their kids and that I will live on through the kids, my brother broke down and said he couldn’t watch it anymore, that it was too painful. When my SIL first came into my hospital room before I woke up, she burst into tears and left the room. 

I hate myself for how much I’ve hurt everyone. Even L stopped by yesterday and told me that she was really upset with me for OD’ing on the meds she prescribes me. She said she was devastated when she found out. She said it’s clearer now than ever that I need to be doing trauma work, otherwise this stuff will keep happening. She told that to my parents too, that we can’t be sweeping anything under the rug anymore, so my mom has been researching family therapists. My mom said that this event helped her see how much we’ve been avoiding the hard things and that it was a wake up call to all of them that things are still really hard and They need to be doing some work as well. The doctors here have been talking to me a lot about my guilt and that I have a disease and used the diabetes example which seems to be a favorite analogy of all the therapists I’ve had (that if I had diabetes and needed to go into the hospital to take care of myself, I wouldn’t feel guilty) but this obviously feels so different bc it was a choice. 

Everyone knows now about how much trouble I’ve been having with drinking bc my mom read my journal and scanned the pages to L (which I was pretty pissed about, but I understand why she did it). It’s scary that people know that bc I’m not sure if I’m ready to give up drinking, but I do see what a negative effect it’s had on everything and it’s sort of a relief to not be hiding it anymore.

I’ve had zero appetite since I’ve been here and it hurts to swallow, thus it hurts to eat, but I’m trying to force myself bc I already feel really weak from just laying in bed for several days. And I know starving myself isn’t going to make anything better. I’m really gonna have to work my butt off if I’m gonna be able to go to Belize. I still haven’t told A what happened yet. I just don’t know how to. I’m worried he won’t want to go on the trip with me anymore, that he’ll be too scared about how fragile I am.

Ugh. I would do anything to go back to that night and do things differently.

[aubreyweston]

vignettes from a visit home

When: Monday, May 4-Sunday, May 10

Where: Mostly Saint Paul, Minnesota

Who: Aubrey and his brother, mother and soon-to-be sister-in-law, Kyle the roommate

Warnings: excessive alcohol use, violence, brief fatshaming of a dog

Word Count: 5,615

When Aubrey spotted his brother waiting for him as he emerged from the arrivals door at the airport, he nearly sagged with relief. He weaved past people, shooting Brody an exhausted smile once they were close enough to talk.

“Hey man, thanks for coming to get me,” he said. 

Brody reached over to ruffle his hair, and then grabbed his bag from him. “Anytime, twerp.”

Once they were in the car, Aubrey reached over to turn the radio on but Brody batted his hand away. “Nuh uh. Nope. Not that easy. What’s up, dude? Not that we’re not thrilled to see you but… this is pretty sudden. Mom said you were coming home after your exams.”

Great. He couldn’t escape the third degree anywhere it seemed. His head throbbed. He’d really taken advantage of Quinn’s generosity.

“Stuff just happened. I… I needed to get out of New York.” He stared at his palms, clenching and unclenching his right hand. He really hoped he hadn’t broken Kyle’s nose.

Brody was quiet for a moment, focused on the road, but Aubrey knew his brother and knew it wouldn’t last. 

“You still talking to Dr. Banks?”

There it was. Aubrey thunked his head against his seat’s headrest.

“Yes, Brody. I’m still talking to Dr. Banks. I’m still taking my meds. It’s —” he bit his lip hard, and then ran a hand through his hair, shaking his head.

“I’m fine. I missed you. I missed mom. I missed Hansel and Gretel. Am I not allowed to impulsively fly home every once in a while?”

Brody looked dubious, but he shrugged. “Yeah. You are. Of course you are.”

“How’s Olivia?” Aubrey asked, desperate to change the subject. Getting Brody to talk about his fiancee was low-hanging fruit, but he’d take him droning on about his future sister-in-law if it’d get him to stop asking questions.

It worked. His brother immediately launched into a detailed explanation of their wedding plans and how happy he was to finally be marrying her, and Aubrey was able to lean his head against the cool window and shut his eyes as Brody rambled on.

--

After what only felt like a few minutes, Brody was shaking Aubrey awake, but sure enough they were in front of their house. Aubrey had complicated feelings about the place. It inspired both a healthy dose of fear and an immense wave of calm all at once. He supposed that was the warring influence of both his parents.

Before he could even get to the door, it was opening, and his mom was standing there, and before Aubrey even realized what he was doing, he’d flung himself at her, hugging her tightly and burying his face into her neck. “Hi mama,” he mumbled. 

Just the feeling of her good arm wrapping around him had him sniffling. “Welcome home, baby,” she said.

He finally pulled back, wiping at his eyes and forcing a smile onto his face. He was sure he’d already freaked her out. He didn’t want to make it worse. 

She took his chin in her hand, examining him for a moment. Aubrey didn’t know what she was looking for but she didn’t seem to have found it because she made a soft tutting noise before pulling him inside.

--

Aubrey’d been busy steadfastly ignoring the semi-constant vibrations coming from his phone when Brody had unceremoniously invited himself inside without bothering to knock, and took a seat on his bed.

“You smell like alcohol,” his brother said matter-of-factly. “If I can smell it, mom definitely did too.”

Aubrey rolled onto his back, staring up at the ceiling instead of meeting his brother’s eyes. He wondered in the back of his mind if Brody ever resented having an absolute basketcase for a sibling.

“Are you going to arrest me for being underage, officer?”

“That’s not the point and we both know it. Does your shrink know?”

Aubrey blinked, and then lied through his teeth, hoping Brody wouldn’t see through the cracks. 

“He knows, Brody. I’m fine.”

A scoff, and then Brody was elbowing him over so he could lie down next to him.

“Seriously, Aubrey, what happened?”

Aubrey was quiet, and thankfully Gretel padded inside and hopped onto his chest. He smiled at her, and then scratched her behind the ears. Her purrs eased the icy grip of anxiety that he’d felt around his throat since Santana’s party. “I missed you Grets,” he whispered, giggling a bit as she started to kneed his chest with her itty bitty paws.

“I’m taking Olivia to Como Park in a bit,” Brody said, cutting through the shreds of peace he’d finally managed to grab onto. “You’re coming too.”

It wasn’t a suggestion, so Aubrey didn’t bother responding. Instead he pressed a kiss to Gretel’s little nose.

When Brody stood up, Aubrey finally looked at him. “Can you take my phone? If it buzzes one more time I might smash it and I can’t afford a new one right now.”

Brody watched him for a long moment, and then sighed, grabbing the device and pocketing it before finally leaving Aubrey alone.

--

Como Park had been fine. Olivia had kept up a steady chatter, and responding to her in a decently normal manner had kept him sufficiently occupied. The plants in the conservatory were breathtaking as usual, and he’d actually found a spark of something resembling joy in the pit that’d taken over his chest once they’d wandered through the zoo.

“Which one was your favourite, Aubrey?” Olivia asked, shooting him an enthusiastic smile. Aubrey felt kind of bad for her. She made such an effort and he knew he was giving her barely any back.

“I kind of loved them all,” he said slowly, tilting his head to the side. “But I think the polar bear was my favourite… or the snow leopard.”

“I liked the tamarins. Both kinds. They were so cute. Weren’t they cute, Brody?” Olivia directed this question at his brother, and swung their clasped hands between them. She looked disgustingly fond.

Aubrey’s ember of a good mood abruptly flickered out. He wondered if it was too late to go back and throw himself in the tiger cage and wait for one of them to decide it was hungry.

--

When they’d gotten home, he’d immediately scooped up Gretel and then gone to pry open one of the kitchen cabinet’s toe-kicks while his mom, Brody and Olivia were all distracted. He’d stashed alcohol in there all through high school and when he’d quit he hadn’t bothered to get rid of what was left. If luck was on his side, no one had found his cache and emptied it.

It turned out that maybe the tides were turning in his favour for the first time this week, because he emerged victorious, a dusty but untouched bottle of Smirnoff clutched in his hand.

Thank fuck. He kicked the toe-kick into place, scooped up Gretel, and did his best to hide the booze behind her flank in case he ran into anyone on the way back to his room.

His fears were unfounded because he safely made his way back to his room. None of the bedrooms had locks. His dad had taken them all off the doors, demanded to know what any of them could possibly want to hide from him. No one had bothered to put them back after he was arrested. There didn’t seem to be much of a point.

Still, the lack of lock was inconvenient now. He kicked the door shut and then deposited Gretel on the ground, and then grabbed his desk chair and dragged it over to the door, wedging it under the handle to make it harder to open. That’d have to be enough.

Satisfied, he sat down on his bed and opened the bottle he’d pilfered. He hadn’t meant to get as drunk as he did but his tolerance had gone down drastically compared to when he’d get drunk behind the bleachers in high school.

His phone buzzed and he pulled it out instinctively, and then squinted at it. Sebastian’s name was bright on the screen. His heart lurched, and he couldn’t stop himself from thumbing the messages open and reading them all.

He tried to untangle the knot that was his feelings. Part of him ached to reply. Something about the messages warmed him up from the inside. Stupid Sebastian, with his dumb smirk and pretty eyes and endless persistence. Aubrey wanted to strangle him. 

He also really, really wanted to kiss him again.

He took another long sip and got onto his feet, pacing around his room in circles, the bottle still clutched in his hand.

Fuck, Sebastian. And not like that. This… this was his fault. He didn’t know how exactly or why but it was. Ever since they’d met it’d been the same pattern. It was inescapable, despite every one of Aubrey’s best efforts to get him to knock it off.

He’d just kept trying. Fucking stubborn, persistent prat. And now… and now...

Before Aubrey’d realized what was happening, he’d already driven his fist into the wall. The drywall broke inwards, and Aubrey’s hand throbbed. He pulled back, though the pain had felt good. Felt familiar. He punched at it again with the same hand, letting the ache in his knuckles roll over him. The pain was good. Real. Something he could control. He whirled back towards his bed, grabbed a pillow and screamed into it until his throat was sore.

--

A series of texts to various people in his phone and another hole in the wall later, Aubrey finally felt tired enough to shove his phone under his pillow, close the vodka and roll it under his bed.

He burrowed his head under his blankets to block out the setting sun and closed his eyes.

--

Someone was being loud. And letting in light in. Aubrey hissed and burrowed his face into his pillow, trying to cling to sleep for as long as he could.

“Mom told me to wake you up. Come on, Aubs. Rise and shine,” Brody said, sounding like he was trying way too hard to ignore whatever damage Aubrey had wreaked on the walls.

He made a disgruntled noise and ignored him. His head hurt. He wanted more sleep.

When Brody tried to pull his duvet off, he swung at him blindly. “Leave me ‘lone,” he muttered.

Brody backed off, but clearly not for long because he’d started trying to reason with him again.

Aubrey swore under his breath, and then reached over to his bedside table where he’d left one of his social work textbooks.

He grabbed it as Brody continued to explain their plan for the day, and without opening his eyes, he aimed for the sound of his voice and hurled it with as much force as he could.

“Fuck off!”

There was a loud thunk as it hit something that sounded a lot more like a wall than flesh, and then silence, before Aubrey heard Brody sigh and pad out of the room.

Deep down he felt a little apologetic, but mostly he was glad he could sink back into his pillow without further disruption.

--

He dragged himself out of bed eventually, and mumbled an apology to Brody for the textbook throwing.

He was hungry though, so he shuffled into the kitchen and started digging around for pancake ingredients. It was getting dark out but… time was a social construct. He could have pancakes at night. Who gave a shit? They were all slowly inching toward death anyway.

He grabbed a few things, and a bowl and started mixing. Pancakes were good. Safe. He could literally make them in his sleep.

He grabbed some orange juice from the fridge and poured it in a glass, leaving some room at the top, and detoured back into his room for some Smirnoff to mix in. That way he’d be able to pass his drink off for something normal if no one else in the house came too close. He downed his pills with the vodka, and then took a few more sips from the bottle for good measure, and then tucked it back under his bed.

Aubrey returned to the kitchen and sipped some of the screwdriver while he heated up a pan.

Hansel shuffled into the kitchen and whined at his feet, tail wagging. Aubrey glanced down at him, and sighed. The chunky dachshund was giving him wide, sad eyes.

“Bud. Seriously? You’re supposed to be losing weight.”

He leaned down to give him a good scratch on his little snout, and then got up again and grabbed some of the pancake batter, pouring it into the hot pan.

“The first one always sucks. I’ll give you some of it,” he promised. The batter was so slowly bubbling, and once it looked ready, he flipped it.

“Smells good in here,” a female voice said behind him, and Aubrey turned to see Olivia smiling at him.

“Um, thanks Liv,” he said, shifting his weight and taking another sip of his drink to distract himself. “You want any orange juice?”

Olivia shook her head, and crouched, laughing as Hansel waddled over to her. “Thanks, Aubs. I’m good. Just came to find the little fella. My friends won’t stop begging for pictures.”

Aubrey downed the rest of his screwdriver, and then took the first pancake out of the pan, breaking off a good chunk for Hansel who’d returned to nosing at his feet. He poured a new scoop of batter into the pan, and then glanced at Olivia who’d been recording Hansel’s enthusiastic consumption of the pancake.

“Anything for the ‘gram, eh?” He joked. He wasn’t sure what came over him, but he grabbed the spatula holding the remainder of the first pancake and swung it wildly. “We’ve got a pancake here ladies and gentlemen,” he said, laughing before whipping it in Olivia’s direction.

She shrieked before dissolving into giggles as the pancake sailed past her and then slammed into the wall.

Aubrey started laughing again too. “Fuck,” he whispered, going over to examine the splatter on the wall. Olivia was laughing too, and she handed him some paper towels, but he shrugged them off, instead batting at the chunks of pancake ‘til they were on the floor too.

“Hansel will get it,” he said, shrugging, before he swore under his breath as the smell of smoke hit them. The second pancake! He’d forgotten all about it.

“Shit,” he muttered, grabbing the pan and taking it off the burner.

Olivia had fallen quiet behind him, and when he turned, she was looking less amused and more concerned.

“I’ve never seen you burn anything before. Are you okay, Aubrey?”

Aubrey gritted his teeth, but then forced a smile. “Sorry, Liv. We were having fun. Just… got distracted.”

She nodded, still looking worried, and scooped up Hansel now that he was done with his pancake.

“I’m just going to go call my dad, but I’m in the other room if you need any help.” She said, before finally leaving him alone to scrape burned pancake off the pan.

--

He’d been trying to be productive for at least a little bit in between drinking binges and panic attacks, so he was blasting white noise in his earbuds and studying for finals when his bedroom door opened and his mom came inside.

There was a soft but serious look on her face when she took a seat next to him. Aubrey felt something twist in the pit of his stomach. He shut his psych textbook, pulled out his earbuds. “Hey mom.”

“Hi baby bear,” she said, reaching out with her good arm to push his hair out of his face. “Seeing you this week has been wonderful but something’s bothering you. I know it is. Mothers always know… the same way they know about the bottles in the toe kick.” She fixed him with a look, and Aubrey glanced away, ashamed.

He stared down at his hands. His mom was the person he hated disappointing the most. She deserved better.

Her hand was under his jaw, tilting his head up. “My sweet boy. You were the sweetest little child and I know he’s still in there. Under all this fear and pain.”

Aubrey swallowed thickly, tears welling up, and had to wipe at them frantically.

“Mama,” he asked quietly. “What happened to your soulmate?”

It was not a subject they talked about often. The part of her arm she’d lost was also the part with her souldate. He didn’t know if his dad had done that on purpose or not. Aubrey couldn’t remember for the life of him what it had looked like before she’d lost it. 

“My mark turned into a scar when I was eleven,” his mother responded smoothly. There wasn’t any pain or anger in her voice. She was merely stating a fact, as accepted as the colour of the sky. “It’s hard when you don’t know who they are. You can’t even find out what happened. But I was young and I adapted.”

He nodded, pulling his knees up to rest his chin on them as he watched her. He couldn’t even imagine. While he’d always resented his mark, he found it hard to think about how he would’ve reacted if suddenly it had scratched out like that.

“What made you decide to…” he paused, unsure how to phrase it. His mother, perceptive as usual, finished the sentence for him.

“Marry your father? He was a sweet talker. Said he didn’t care about his date, that he was focused on the here and now and that he’d take care of me,” she said, pursing her lips. “It must sound silly to you now, that I believed him but… he was very convincing.” 

She reached out to stroke his hair again. “And I wanted a family. As much as I hate the man now, he did give me you and your brother.”

Aubrey smiled at that, but it was still weighing on him.

“And now? Do you ever think about… finding someone?”

Her eyes sparkled, but she shook her head. “Do I wish I had some great epic romance? Of course. Do I think there’s still someone out there who could give me that? Of course. But I’m happy now. I want to focus on you. On Brody and his wedding. If someone stumbles into my life then maybe I’ll give it a chance, but I’m not missing anything right now.”

Aubrey nodded, though a part of him thought it was supremely unfair that his mother didn’t get to have someone looking for her. He hated the idea as a whole, but if anyone deserved it, it was her. He certainly didn’t and somehow he had it? And she didn’t? It was another piece in his mounting pile of evidence that the universe was profoundly cruel and unfair.

“Aubrey, listen to me.” His mother’s voice broke him out of his reverie. She fixed him with a steady gaze.

“You are complete. Soulmate or not. Every single one of us is complete,” she assured him. “There is nothing missing. I’m not missing out. You’re not missing out. Your brother wasn’t somehow lacking until he met Olivia. I want you to always remember that. It’s something I should’ve remembered when I was young.”

Aubrey nodded, his eyes welling up again, and this time when he went to wipe at them, she grabbed his arm with her hand, and then held it carefully.

“But don’t build walls either. You hear me? Let people in. Me. Your brother. Whoever is out there and wants to see the real you. You don’t need them, the same way you don’t need a 5th copy of the Communist Manifesto. But they will enrich your life. I don’t want you to run away from that.”

She leaned in and kissed his forehead, and then let go of his hand, and patted his arm instead. 

“I’ll let you get back to your studying.”

--

Aubrey had somehow managed to catch a cold, amidst all the other bullshit that was currently going on in his life. His voice being shot hadn’t stopped him from playing so much guitar that even his calluses hadn’t stopped his fingers from getting sore.

He strummed, starting a new song, and determinedly blaming the cracks in his voice on his sore throat and not the fact that there was a ball in his chest that ached.

“Fell out of bed, butterfly bandage, but don’t worry. You’ll never remember your head is far too blurry. Put him in the back of a squad car, restrain that man! He needs his head put through a CAT scan. Hey editor, I'm undeniable, hey doctor, I'm certifiable,” he sang. 

Fuck. Fuck he was not going to make himself cry. 

“I'm a loose bolt of a complete machine. What a match, I'm half doomed and you're semi-sweet.” He stopped, swearing under his breath, and wiped at his tears.  

“So boycott love. Detox just to retox. And I’d promise you anything for another shot at life.”

Gretel meowed and he sighed, turning to look at her. She was curled up, but her eyes were fixed on him. She blinked slowly at him and he nodded.

“Yeah, I know. I’m all over the place.”

She made a meeeeeerp noise, and rolled onto her back, paws in the air. If she could speak English, he assumed she’d be giving him a pep-talk right now.

“You’re very smart, Grets.”

She snuffled, rolling back onto her belly and meowed again, quieter this time.

“You want me to get it together? Join the club.”

--

Brody’s decision to change the pronouns when he sang “New Rules” was pure cowardice, and Brody made sure to tell him that despite the fact that he otherwise enjoyed his brother’s impromptu performance.

He was sitting cross-legged on the floor, watching as Brody strummed his guitar absently as he tried to decide what he wanted to play next. They were alone, and having a ‘Bros Day’, Olivia having decided to take their mom out for the day. She was a kind girl. Perfect for Brody.

He sighed at the thought, and apparently that was enough to catch his brother’s attention because he was setting the guitar down.

“Kid, are we going to talk about whatever all of this is?”

Aubrey didn’t reply for a moment, biting his lip as he thought.

“Were you scared when you got together with Olivia?” He asked eventually.

He didn’t meet Brody’s eyes when he asked, even though he could feel them boring into him. He heard, rather than saw his brother get off the chair, set his guitar down, and come sit next to him.

“Terrified,” Brody replied after a moment. “But everything clicked as soon as it happened. I couldn’t let myself be scared for long. Not with her around.”

Aubrey rubbed at his face. “Sounds awesome,” he said, only a little sarcastically. Brody laughed a little and nudged him.

Aubrey glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. “Um, what’s your manifestation?”

“Well, you know the voice in your head?”

Aubrey’s brow furrowed. “Your… thoughts?”

Brody nodded, before tilting his head to the side and tapping one of his temples with a finger. “My internal monologue’s in her voice. Hers is in mine. Kinda trippy, huh?”

“I guess. Kind of pointless too.”

Brody elbowed him again. “Stop being such a cynical little shit. I like it. It’s like I’m always carrying a piece of her with me.”

“She’s really sweet,” Aubrey conceded. “Like too sweet. Don’t you ever worry that she deserves better? Or… or get freaked out that this is all just some higher power’s meddling and you don’t have control over it at all?”

Brody slung an arm around Aubrey’s shoulder and gave him a shoulder pat. “Nope. There’s no use thinking like that. I love her. She loves me. I don’t think overcomplicating one of the most basic things in life is productive. What’s it achieve?”

Aubrey didn’t really have an answer.

He’d hoped this conversation would do something to sway him, one way or another, but instead he was just frustrated.

He mimed gagging just to get Brody to stop looking at him with earnest eyes, like he was trying to peer into his soul.

It didn’t work.

“So, is there something you want to tell me? About someone special?”

Aubrey froze.

“Shut up, Brody.”

“Aubs…”

“Shut up,” he said, standing up and stumbling back from his brother, fists clenched. “There’s nothing and no one. I was just asking —”

Brody came closer, not dissuaded at all by his outburst.

“You’re a bad liar, squirt, seriously, talk to me.”

Something was building up behind Aubrey’s vision, making his heart beat faster and the feeble control he had over his emotions start to snap.

“I just want to help,” Brody continued.

Be quiet. Be quiet. Be quiet.

“I know the kiss is scary and that dad fucked us both up but you need to —”

The last thread of control over Aubrey’s temper snapped and he was shoving Brody against the wall, his fist slamming into the plaster next to his brother’s head.

“I don’t need to do anything! Fucking stop. Shut up about it,” he hissed.

Brody looked stunned for a moment, before his expression shifted into something more neutral, careful.

“Take a deep breath, Aubs. And step back. You’re better than this. You’re not dad. I know you’re not.”

He didn’t move, breathing in hard through his nose as his pulse pounded in his ears. He drew his hand back and punched the wall again, and then for a third time, the pain blossoming through his first slowly breaking through his haze.

“I hate you, why do you always have to push?” he said, his voice cracking as he finally drew back and then kicked the chair over. His shoulders slumped as he ran a hand through his hair and fought the urge to hit some more. He beelined for the kitchen, not bothering to see if Brody was following him or not, and opened the fridge, pulling out a bottle of red wine that Olivia had bought, popping off the cork and then unceremoniously chugging some of it.

He wiped at his eyes, and then leaned against the fridge, his pulse still racing, the cocktail of fury and fear making him volatile.

“I’m sorry.” Brody’s voice. He was quiet for another moment. “I just want you to be happy.”

Aubrey took another swig of the wine, not meeting his brother’s eyes as all the fight suddenly left him. In its place was a mix of shame and regret.

Something was seriously broken in him. His family deserved better. So did his friends. And Sebastian, especially.

“I’m sorry too,” he said hoarsely. “I swear I’ve been taking my meds. Everything’s just bad right now.”

Brody drew closer, and reached out to take the bottle from him. He relinquished it without a fight, and then slid down onto his knees, leaning against the fridge. Aubrey watched his brother pour the contents down the sink and didn’t try to stop him.

“Get up. We don’t need to talk about this anymore but we’re having an adventure outside where you can kick and hit all the shit you want without consequence,” Brody said, fixing him with a look that Aubrey knew meant he wasn’t going to budge on this.

He held a hand out and Brody pulled him up. He still felt deeply rattled. He was sure Brody did too. “Fine. But stop stealing my phone to go on my Instagram. And posting weird creepshots of me.”

Brody grinned and patted his shoulder. “No promises.”

--

Aubrey’s last night in Minnesota was meant to be low-key, but somehow it had turned into Brody and Olivia trying desperately to perfect the ‘It’s Gonna Be Me’ dance, though they spent half their practice giggling and kissing.

It was disgusting. But kind of adorable.

But his mom found it precious and wouldn’t stop recording their every attempt, so Aubrey toned down his roasting to more of a simmer.

It almost felt normal. Almost.

His fight or flight response had triggered his impromptu visit to Minnesota, but now that it was almost over, he had to admit it had done him some good. He was certainly feeling marginally more stable than he’d been at the beginning of the week. Jury was out on whether that calm would last on the plane back to New York.

He glanced around the living room, scooping Gretel up and hugging her to his chest. He was going to miss home. He didn’t know when he’d be back, considering he’d blown through his savings, and even if he wanted to take Santana up on her offer, he’d been horrendously rude to her and it probably didn’t stand anymore.

So instead he committed the smiles on Brody and Olivia and his mom’s faces to memory. If he took on some extra shifts, he could probably come see them again for Thanksgiving but a summer visit was definitely out of the cards now.

--

Waking up at 5 a.m. just so he could catch his stupid flight to New York was seriously not it. But at least this time he hadn’t thrown anything at his brother when he’d forced him awake. It was all about the small victories.

He hugged his mom for about five minutes straight, and he was crying a little when he finally pulled back.

She kissed each of his cheeks, and then his forehead. “My baby bear. Things will look up. I promise.”

“I’m sorry for…” he trailed off. For what? The fighting with Brody? For bringing violence back into her home? The yelling and holes in the wall? “For everything.”

She reached up and wiped at his tears, and smiled at him. “Work on feeling better, and then consider yourself forgiven.”

He nodded. That was fair. And frankly more than he deserved. His mom was an endless fountain of patience.

“I love you. I’ll call you when my flight lands. Happy mother’s day.”

--

Brody gave him much of the same advice on the way to the airport, before reeling him in for a hug once they were in the terminal.

“Sort your shit out and quit destroying your liver,” he said, fixing him with a look once he’d pulled back.

Aubrey shot him a half-smile. “I think if my liver survived high school, it’ll survive this.”

Brody sighed, but Aubrey was very skilled in the art of deciphering his brother’s sighs by now. This one wasn’t angry, just kind of resigned. He’d take disappointed over pissed any day.

“I know it’s hard. You know I do. But just… stop self-sabotaging and let yourself have good things. Don’t let dad’s shit ruin your life more than he already has.”

Aubrey gave his brother a two-fingered salute as he walked backwards from him, pulling his carry-on in front of him. “Aye, aye captain.”

It was good advice. Brody was good at knowing the right things to say but Aubrey was never very good at listening to him.

-- 

His first stop once he got back to New York was his apartment. He needed to drop off his suitcase and his guitar.

He’d gotten tipsy on the plane, and then spent his commute back to his apartment staring at the mountain of texts on his phone. He’d read them over and over all week, and every time he did, his chest felt tight.

It was like squeezing lemon juice onto a paper cut. Pointless and painful. He couldn’t stand it. He seriously needed more to drink, nevermind the fact that it wasn’t even noon yet.

He finally reached his apartment, and let himself in. He beelined for his room, dropping his bag and guitar off, before he padded out to the kitchen to see what was in the fridge. 

Chet usually had something — Bingo! — he spotted a nearly full bottle of Fireball tucked away behind some takeout containers, and pulled it out, opening it and taking a few gulps, before shutting the fridge and turning around.

Oh.

“Hi Kyle,” he said, a bit sheepishly, as his wide-eyed roommate took a step back towards his bedroom.

He rubbed at his forehead, and then took another gulp from the bottle before plopping down on the couch.

“I’m sorry about last week,” he said, chewing on his lip for a moment. “You didn’t deserve it. Even if your room does smell like you’re hiding dead bodies in there.”

Kyle stared at him for a moment, before he broke out into a grin, and came over to slap him enthusiastically on the shoulder.

“Right on, dude. Don’t even worry about it. What’s a couple smacks between friends?”

If Aubrey’d been sober, he probably would’ve disputed that statement a little further. It was probably not healthy or normal for friends to regularly hit each other. He didn’t even think of Kyle as a friend.

But drunk Aubrey was just going to take it as a win, because he was sorely needing one of those this week.

“Thanks, man.” He waved the bottle in Kyle’s direction. “You’re not gonna tell Chet about this, right?”

Kyle shook his head. “Nah, brah. Your secret’s safe with me.”

His roommate finally disappeared back into the biohazard he called a room and Aubrey took another sip of his drink, and pulled out his phone, staring at it for a minute or two before getting up and putting the Fireball away.

It was probably time for him to go see Sebastian.

[mouser26]

Update....dear god where to start

A long ass rant about the shitstorm I’ve gone and gotten involved in.  I regret none of it but guys I am so fucking tired.... TLDR: We went from “I’ll save up money and leave him in October when the lease is up” to Restaining orders and a divorce lawyer in roughly 3 weeks 

Strap in this is a freefall of a rabbithole. So my friend Jay is trying to get out of her marriage yeah? Well the fuckwit she married is a narcacistic trashheap SHe got surgury June 24th He decided to get his ass 5150′d that weekend because god fucking forbid anyone not him be getting attention. Cue 72hrs of bliss cause his dumbass is locked up Now 2 weeks later he has called the cops on Jay and her brother...3-4 times For shit like “Her brother is using an extention cord that’s mine” I shit you not He also accused Jay and her brother of fucking because apparently that’s the only reason to keep family around? Like I don’t even know

Jay spent July 7th with her toddler (my neice) in my living room in the middle of the night printing custody papers and a restraining order because a cop told her flat out “If we keep getting called out like this even for stupid shit you could lose your daughter because you’re doing nothing to remove her from this.” The toddler was with her because the wasteofspace she married didn’t even want to watch the kid while she was supposed to be asleep. Plan is for me to drive her to the courthouse July 9th (my next day off)

July 8th there’s another call to the cops for I didn’t even know an by 300pm she’s at the courthouse toddler in tow filing everything. After instead of going home she takes herself and the baby to my mother’s house  with the plan for me to join them once I get off work. While she does not tell the cesspit incarnate EXACTLY where she is she does tell him she’s with friends and sends pics of my neice playing/happy/SAFE He calls the cops and tries to claim she’s kidnapped the child and that he fears for the baby’s safety. Quick call to Jay and the cop tells him to basicly stop being a shitstirrer since he was forced to admit he did know that the girl was safe and still in town even if he didn’t know the address Jay agrees to come home at noonish (hoping the RO will be filed and granted) We actually manage to have a good night.

July 9th the Gnat calls at 1215 claiming he will call the cops again because they are not home and he wants to spend time with his daughter and a bunch of other “Don’t hog my kid I want to parent” bullshit. Important to the story if you have not guessed. Jay has their only car. So we load up and roll out because I have no intention of leaving them alone with this bitterbitch yet. Plan is for me and Jay to hang in her room so he can get that quality parenting time he has been crying for we arrive by 1230 He’s all smiles and “I missed you!” and verbal emojis and exclaimation marks with sparkles....until the car keys hit his hand. Again I shit you not we weren’t even there 15 minutes at most before he announces that he is going to take a shower and go to work, which is driving for Lyft/Uber So no suprise suprise he literly just caused all that trouble because Jay had the car and therefor had freedom. We just shrug “Cool we’re gonna grab clothes and go do laundry at my house then.” He pitches a bitchfit when she pulls out a dufflebag because “That’s mine I want it back.”  It is promptly returned and I go to my car for an IKEA bag which we STUFF with clothes. By 1pm he had fucked off and we were over at my house with clothes in the wash and my neice’s carseat in peices since it needed to be cleaned For the record everything is communicated between Jay and the Male!Umbridge via text because she is keeping record that he knew where she and the toddler were. what they were doing, and had asked several times  “WHat time should we be back so you can spend time with Daughter?” “I’ll let you know.” “Fine but you have to give me an hour’s notice to make sure the laundry is done.” They stayed here literily all day. We only heard from him once when he accused Jay of coming home, going into his room, and going through his papers.  Fucking impressive feat given she was sitting next to me and I had the only car keys for 6hrs.  I also found out in his efforts to cut her off from all support before all this  Druggie Mclacksabrain once claimed I was a “pill popper” Jay laughed in his face.   Simply put of all the friends he could have used that lie for and been beleived he instead tried to apply it to the one person in Jay’s social pool that has never ‘done’ anything harder than Tylenol or Advil with MAYBE a side of 24hr allergy med as needed. Three changes of clothes for each of them joined the ‘emergency box’ in my living room. They went home and a tense ceasefire has reigned. July 13th (yesterday) the Temporary Restaining order was granted. Full custody of the toddler was granted to her. The only thing they did not grant was custody of the car.   On the 15th (Tomorrow) I will be taking Jay to meet with a lawyer for a consult for a divorce and then to the sheriff’s office to speak to them about serving the shitsack with the T.R.O. officially.  August 27th (4 days after my birthday and the day before my neice’s) we will be going to the courthouse to see if the judge will grant a ‘permanent’ Restraining Order. 

Did I mention I’m fucking tired?

[crossbows-and-moonshine]

Let The Flames Begin (Chapter 32)

Long author note but please read.

First off, I can’t believe there’s only two chapters left of this before it ends and then the sequel starts. I actually feel really sad loool

I’ve been doing a lot of thinking the past few days about the sequel and where I want it to go. You all know I hate writing canon and originally when I started this as a multi chap fic, I was gonna keep it totally AU and they never met the group. But stupidly, I changed my mind.

I regret it so bad now, so I decided to come to a compromise with my brain. It will be somewhat canon but I’m making shit up as I go. I won't be doing dialogue line by line from the show. It's too tedious and when I did it with Blood in the Water, it killed the whole story for me doing it that way. Watching it over and over by the sentence, reading scripts, it's too much. There will be a lot of shit I’m mixing up with the sequel, AU elements and just doing my own thing.

I don't want to write the same shit you’ve already seen over and over with my OC just slotted in there somewhere looking awkward and out of place.

So this is just a warning; if you don’t like AU elements or things not strictly canon then don’t bother reading the sequel because it's gonna be so fucking different to the show.

It’s the only way I’ll ever write it because I've been dreading it so much and it’s really been getting me down.

That being said, there will be a break before I start the sequel when I work on some of my other already started fics so I can get them posted for you.

Also, so I talk about Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome here. This isn't something I have no knowledge on since I have it myself. So I’m writing here from experience and from all my appointments and speaking to doctors.

That being said, have some cute insecure Daryl  :’)

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

Daryl was sat skinning some rabbits he had caught in some of the snares. He had left Charlene sleeping soundly in the tent after staring at her and admiring her for fucking ever. He was a lucky asshole. He couldn't believe his luck. But he almost felt like this was his reward for everything shitty that had happened in his life. If this was life making up for shit, he would gladly take it. Merle walked over, two bottles of water in his hands and he plonked himself down next to him, setting a water next to him. Daryl grunted and gave him a grateful nod.

“So… have fun last night?” Merle smirked, making Daryl look at him warily. His face flushed and the tips of his ears turned pink as he stared at his brother. Merle just barked a laugh and shook his head.

“Ya little lady ain’t as quiet as ya thought she was. My tents right next to yers don’t forget,” he grinned. Daryl looked down, fighting the smirk that wanted to make its way onto his face. He couldn't help it. Not when he thought about how he had the prettiest girl alive writhing under him last night.

“What d'ya do with the rubber? Don't tell me ya tossed it near my tent,” Merle snorted. Daryl paled, realisation dawning on him. How the fuck had he forget that one? Was he that far gone with his lust that he just didn't give a shit what happened? Merle eyed him carefully, reading that look all over his damn face.

“Boy, don’t tell me ya didn't use one,” he glared at him. Daryl looked at him, looking almost like a scolded child as he berated himself internally for being so fucking careless.

“Are ya fuckin’ stupid? Ya wanna knock her up when the dead are walkin’ around?” Merle growled at him, resisting the urge to smack him around the head. He had taught his brother better than this. Daryl lowered his gaze. He knew he was right. A baby was the last thing they needed. And besides, what if she didn't want a fucking baby with him? Who would want to birth a fucking Dixon? No one, that's who. Not to mention how soon it was, they had only just found the balls to admit they liked each other and now they might end up parents? Now he was panicking, his mind going to places he wished it fucking didn't. He felt the fear and panic welling in his chest as it tightened and he cleared his throat.

“I just...I didn’t think,” he muttered tensely.

“Yeah well ya better fuckin’ pray she ain’t knocked up,” Merle huffed, shaking his head at him. It was bad enough thinking he might have gotten her pregnant, but adding on Merle's severe disappointment in him, the day was starting to sour considerably.

He couldn't settle, the anxiety was bubbling under his skin and he was trying to calm himself. He had been doing okay with trying to not freak out, to take a minute to breathe when he felt it coming. But now it was overwhelming and he got up, going into the tent. She had said he needed to talk to her when he felt that way, and if he didn't fucking talk to her about this, he would flee and never show his damn face again. He had to swallow his pride with this, no matter how awkward the talk might be. Now he was with her, he knew he couldn't be a stubborn asshole and ruin it. It just might kill him. When he got in the tent, she was awake and sitting up as she sleepily rubbed her eyes. She gave him a smile and his chest constricted. His throat closing up as he glared at her stomach like he expected it to start growing right in front of him.

“We ain't use protection last night,” he blurted. His face looked panicked and Charlene blinked at him for a moment. She could tell he was starting to freak out.

“Um...Just sit down for a minute,” she said softly, raking her teeth over her bottom lip. He frowned, not grasping why she was acting so calm about the fact he had probably knocked her up and ruined everything.

“Didn't ya fuckin’ hear me? Ya could be fuckin’ pregnant now,” he frowned. She gave him a look and it almost reminded him of the look Merle would give him. The one that would make him submit. He found himself sitting down without a thought and he didn't know how the fuck she managed that one.

“Look...the chances of me getting pregnant are pretty slim,” she started softly, toying with her hands and looking somewhat awkward. He tilted his head a little, wondering if she was bullshitting him to calm him down. His distrustful eyes bore into her and she looked at him. She inhaled a deep breath.

“You remember how I told you my periods get bad?” she asked softly. He nodded, eyeing her warily.

“I have Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome,” she explained. Daryl blinked at her for a minute, sitting up straighter.

“The fucks that?” he asked warily, looking almost like he thought it was something that could kill her.

“It's nothing life-threatening or anything. My ovaries and hormones are fucked basically. But doctors have told me chances of me getting pregnant are really low. That I’d have to go on some meds and stuff for it to happen,” she shrugged, picking at her nails. He swallowed thickly as he let the information sink into his brain. She looked sad and it made his heart ache painfully in his chest. This was new information about her, but he gathered it was personal and not something Anna would have blurted to him if he was around.

“So...ya can’t have kids?” he asked, his voice low. It made him feel all weird inside. A second ago he was freaking out about the thought of knocking her up and now a dull ache was spreading from his chest to the rest of his body. He hadn't ever wanted kids, he hadn't ever thought he would meet someone he cared about that wanted him back. But somewhere in the deepest darkest parts of his fucked-up mind, there was a little voice that was hoping that maybe one day, the world wouldn't be in such a fucking state. That maybe they could start a real family and settle down. It was the voice he smothered constantly because hope got you nowhere in life. But it was there subconsciously all the same. And now he was left with a hollow feeling growing in his chest that he didn't know how to deal with.

“It's not that I can’t. It can happen. It just usually takes a while for most girls, and sometimes not at all, especially without the meds. When I used to go to my appointments, there were a lot of girls there who were trying for a baby. One woman had been trying for 10 years and it still hadn't happened,” her voice wavered slightly and Daryl looked at her. Really looked at her, pushing his own selfish feelings aside as he saw her eyes glistening with tears. She was picking at her fingers unable to look at him and he knew deep down, this was something she had struggled to accept. Hell, he was currently struggling to accept it and it wasn't his fucking body. He reached out, taking her hand and her eyes snapped up to his as a tear fell down her cheek. She snorted at herself, wiping her eyes with her free hand as her cheeks flushed.

“Sorry. I haven't really thought about it in a while with all this going on. If you wanna use protection from now on we can. But chances of me getting pregnant are really low,” she muttered looking embarrassed. Daryl's chest hurt and he brought her hand up to his lips, kissing her knuckles sweetly. It made her smile a little as she glanced at him.

“Ain’t nothin’ to be sorry for Peaches,” he said softly. He admired this tiny girl sat in front of him. Her life hadn’t been fucking kind to her with the shit it had thrown at her. Yet she always remained herself. She stayed hopeful and happy. She was still able to smile. She hadn't let all the bullshit in her life ruin her like he had. She was stronger than she would ever even realise. That's why he loved her. I’m sorry, what now? His eyes widened a little as he looked down. Is that what the feeling was in his chest every time he looked at her? He hadn't ever been in love with anyone before. The revelation jarred him as he tried to calm his breathing so she didn't know anything was wrong. He was trying to be supportive now, she didn't need him having a fucking panic attack on her. He could run off into the woods later and freak out on his own.

“Let's get some breakfast,” she smiled at him, wiping her eyes. She looked like she was doing a little better now. He wasn't sure if she was just good at hiding it or if she was over it for now. But all he could think about was the fact he was pretty sure he loved her. He wasn't sure how to deal with it. Did it change things? What if she didn't love him back? What if all she could muster up for his hick ass was liking him and it never went any further? Fuck my life. He gave her a weak smile, the best he could give her with his head turning against him. He didn't want her to ask what was up with him, he had no intention of telling her. Ever. He just nodded before they both climbed out of the tent.

He was about to walk over to the rest of the group with her to eat with them, but she grabbed his wrist and stopped him. He blinked down at her. Once again getting lost in her green eyes. It calmed him somewhat for a moment. But it wasn't like he could just stand there staring at her forever to try and calm himself. She leaned up on her tiptoes and placed a soft kiss to his lips. He felt like he melted into a puddle. Such a fuckin’ girl, man. She hadn't ever kissed him in public before. His cheeks flushed as the corner of his mouth quirked up into a small smile. He couldn't even help it. It felt good that she would kiss him in front of people. He hadn't so much as touched her, held her hand or anything when they were around the others. He didn't want to embarrass her. It was bad enough they knew they were together since he had lied to Shane that day. He didn't want to make her feel embarrassed or self-conscious about being with him. So he kept his distance. But now, here she was kissing him, not giving a shit and it made him feel good.

Not long after breakfast, he was down by the quarry. Charlene was helping the women out in the group doing chores back at camp and he needed a minute to himself. He had told her she didn't need to help out. He was still unhappy being stuck here with the group and he didn't think she needed to do a damn thing to help out. But she had been firm she wanted to. Saying that even Merle was helping out with hunting and prepping the food. His brother had been trying to be on his best behaviour since Charlene came back. He knew the others in camp had been surprised. He was a little less of an asshole and didn't pick fights for no reason. At least with anyone that wasn't Shane. Merle didn't like Shane one bit, neither did Daryl. But he wasn't as aggressive as before and he could see the relief in everyone. It made him feel a little guilty. Sure he didn't like any of them, but when he thought the girl was dead, his brother was fucking terrorising people in camp and Daryl had just fucking let him. He couldn't bring himself to care. He was guilty himself because of that and he was glad things had sorted out.

But now his mind was going a million miles a minute. He was confused. Did he love her? He didn't know what the fuck he felt and it was driving him mad. It wasn't something he could just ignore. His mind wouldn't let him, he couldn't just accept the fact he felt something and leave it well enough alone. He was terrified and he needed to fucking know what it was and how to deal with it. He hadn't ever been in this situation before. He was gnawing at his thumb as he paced and suddenly Amy was walking down near the water with some clothes in her hand. He glared at her, continuing to pace.

“Are you okay?” she asked carefully as she watched him, looking like a caged animal. He didn't mind Amy so much. She wasn't as annoying as some of the others and she didn't look at him and his brother with complete disdain. Only whenever it was deserved.

“Fine,” he bit out. He would have gone back to camp to get away from her. He didn't like her watching him unravel like this. But if he went back to camp then Charlene would see him and know something was up. He didn't want to go off to hunt because his head was all over the place. He didn't much feel like having a biter take a chunk outta his ass ‘cause he wasn't in the right frame of mind. Amy watched him warily from the corner of her eye as she started washing the clothes. After another few minutes of him pacing, she sighed and stood up looking at him.

“You can talk to me if you want. I won't say anything. It might make you feel better,” she shrugged. She just wanted him to calm the hell down. He stopped pacing, right eye twitching a little as he tried to calm himself a little. He didn't want to talk to anyone about this. He wanted to bury it deep inside of him and forget all about it, but his mouth clearly had other fucking ideas.

“How the fuck d’ya know if ya love someone?” he blurted. His eyes widening and cheeks flushing that it had left his fucking lips. Alright, time to go off into the woods and put a bullet in my damn head.

A grin worked its way onto Amy's face and she looked at him with a weird look. Like understanding dawned on her face at why he was out here losing his mind just a little.

“Well… first off, if you're thinking about it this much, you probably do love her. But it depends on the person and how they make you feel. How does Charlene make you feel?” she asked with a small smile. Amy and Charlene had become somewhat friends in the time she had been in the camp. Daryl had noticed she was the one person Charlene would actually laugh with and seemed to hang out with the most.

“She makes me feel a lot of shit. Mostly that I wanna run into the damn woods and never come back,” he muttered, making her snort at him. He shot her a glare as she covered her mouth, looking sheepish.

“In a bad way or a good way?” she asked, watching him as he rolled his shoulders and sighed.

“Good I guess. It's just… I start to freak out. I ain't used to this shit and she makes me feel all kinds of shit I ain't used to. Makes my chest feel tight like my heart’s about to explode,” he huffed, glaring at the floor. Amy bit her lip to stifle her grin. It was weird seeing Daryl like this and she found it cute. Everyone had noticed how different he and Merle were since Charlene came into the group.

“And how do you feel about that?” she prodded, watching him. He shrugged, pacing just a little again and he worked his jaw as he tried to make sense of his thoughts.

“Don't know how the fuck to feel. It’s just...she gives me that fuckin’ smile that knocks me on my ass. It makes my insides turn to mush and it's like...as long as she’s smilin’ at me like that, then it’s all okay.  Nothin’ else matters except to keep the damn smile on her face,” he rambled. He stopped his pacing and looked at Amy who was smiling at him and he sneered. He hated that he opened his fucking mouth at all and now he had embarrassed himself in front of her.

“That's so sweet,” she grinned. He squinted at her and she masked her smile quickly.

“I’m just saying, it sounds like you do love her. But I don't think that's such a bad thing. Love these days can be hard to find. If you’ve found your person, then you’re lucky,” she said softly.

He chewed on his lower lip, looking at her through his lashes as her words soaked into his mind. She had a point, yet the voice in his head wouldn't leave him alone.

“And what about if she ain't feel the same?” he asked warily, suddenly looking boyish and so vulnerable that Amy had to resist the urge to hug him. She hadn't seen this side to him. He was always so gruff and now he was unsure of himself.

“In my opinion, I think she does. I mean, she never shuts up about you for one thing. No matter what we’re doing its ‘Daryl this and Daryl that’. Not to mention the way she looks at you when you aren't looking,” she smiled. She seemed to be enjoying the whole thing way too much but he wasn't surprised. She was always gushing romantic girly shit, it just seemed to be something she was into.

“And how does she look at me?” he asked curiously.

“She looks at you like she just realized what love feels like...The exact same way you look at her,” she smirked, quirking her brow with a knowing look. He looked down, the whole thing getting too touchy-feely and awkward for his liking. He swallowed thickly as he thought about what she said. Did she really look at him that way? He knew what she looked like when he was looking at her. Those sweet smiles and shiny eyes. But he didn't know she was looking at him when he wasn't looking. That's what he did to her all the time. Staring longingly after her no matter what she was doing.

“So...this is what love feels like? Fuckin’ butterflies every time she looks at me? Just starin’ at her wonderin’ how the fuck I got so lucky?” he asked, wiping a hand over his face.

“Yep!” she snorted. He shook his head and looked down as he huffed a laugh.

“Shit, I’m in way over my head here,” he muttered. She pat his arm quickly, trying to be reassuring and he was thankful she hadn't pushed her luck and lingered a little. He might have thrown her in the water and bolted if she did.

“You’ll do just fine. I think you're cute together. Just don’t freak out on her and it’ll all work out,” she smiled up at him.

“Do I...do I tell her?” he asked warily. His eyes wide as he looked spooked at the notion. She stifled the laugh bubbling in her chest. He looked so clueless.

“That's not for me to say. If you want to, then tell her. If you aren't ready yet then that's fine too. There's no need to force it to happen. Just take your time and let things happen naturally. You don't need to pressure yourself,” she explained. Her words were comforting to him. No need for pressure, take his time. He could do that. Now he knew just what those weird feelings were that he kept having, he could try and deal with them. And he kept thinking of Amy's words about the fact Charlene talked about him all the time. That fact she was always looking at him when he wasn't looking at her. It felt weird to think she might feel the same way, but he wasn't about to get his hopes up.

He thought back to the conversation earlier with the girl. Despite the burning ache in his chest at what she said, it didn't change how he felt about her. He had been shocked at how disappointed he felt, that if they ever wanted a family it might never happen. He didn't even realise he wanted that, but with her, he wanted it all. But even through the disappointment, he never once wavered with how he felt for her. It didn't change a damn thing. If they couldn't ever have kids, so fucking what? He would still want to spend every waking moment with her and soak her in. It didn’t make a damn bit of difference in the end. He now knew he loved her, he could just carry on as normal and store those feelings away to keep for himself.

Taglist; @risingphoenix761 @daryldixonandfrogs @arlaina28 @divadinag @keeperofwonderlandus @jodiereedus22 @easnuppa @fand0m-fiend @txladyj-blog @walkingdead-dixon

[malafight]

Long-Ass Life Update (I’m not dead!)

Finally a life update now that I’m back home. It’s been a painful and tiring couple of weeks :’) And actually some of the days/times might be off because I was like super fucking out of it for most of that time period.

Anyhow, I went to the ER on Friday the 1st after 3 days of severe stomach pain, and the local hospital is like notoriously shitty but I was in horrible pain ok

They actually took me seriously for once, took me back immediately, ekg, ultrasound, blood and piss tests, and told me from the start not to eat or drink anything.

They told me they found gallstones and one or more might be stuck in the bile duct, but they made it sound like it wasnt inflamed and there werent many, so I wasnt super worried? They sent me for an MRI and then told me that they didnt have the capability to get out any stones, so they sent my ass an hour away via ambulance to a much better hospital so they could do the probe thing they needed to. It took until Saturday night to get a room there, though, and they didnt know when I’d get there and since they figured theyd want to do the probe ASAP, I was kept completely without eating or drinking for all of Friday night and Saturday, after not eating more than a few bites of muffin on Friday and next to nothing Thursday either because Everything Hurt.

Also, Fentanyl is fucking magic. Thats the only thing that even vaguely touched the pain.

So anyhow, I get to the other hospital at fuck o’clock at night and God Damn Staved because, like I said, bitches gave me No Fucking Food for an entire day (I’m not kidding that hospital is horrible and has a horrible reputation for ending up with killing people or making situations worse but the next nearest hospitals are an hour away in different directions and I don’t often have anyone willing to drive me that far and I often don’t feel up to driving myself that far if I’m already at “need to go to the ER, fuck the money I don’t have” point, and Saer has only just gotten into the USA and the last time they came with me to the ER they ended up with a virus for like three weeks and I wasn’t gonna do that to them again!!) and finally when I got to that hospital they were like “yeah we won’t be able to do the probe until Monday so eat something and then tomorrow you’re on a liquid diet and then nothing by mouth after midnight” so they scrounged me up some chicken broth and orange juice at like ten o’clock at night and gave me Those Good Good Meds and I slept in a decent hospital bed instead of on a fucking ER bed like Friday night (since they were transferring me at the local hospital they didn’t admit me and I slept in the ER. yeah. i hurt too badly to sleep on my side even with pain meds, and I slept on an ER bed. I had to sleep all day Saturday on and off just to get vaguely rested, but honestly? this whole ordeal has been an adventure in sleep deprivation despite heavy sedatives)

Monday rolls around and they take me for the ERCP (iirc thats what it was) where they put a thing down my throat and cut the bile duct wider so the stone could pass, get that bitch cleared up, all is well. I was heavily sedated and remember none of it, just waking up with different pain in my stomach and the world’s worst sore throat.

I was on a liquid diet from that and until the extraction on Wednesday. I have drank my weight in broth and orange juice.

Wednesday they take me in to remove my gallbladder. It was supposed to be a simple laparoscopic procedure, nip it out, pull it, I go home in a couple days with a couple small cuts on my belly. My dad (and several other people) reassured me that it was routine and quick, and is an easy procedure that should take 2 hours at most. I told him, “Listen, with me, literally nothing is ever easy and you know that”

Fast forward to me waking up and my first thought is “is that a catheter? guess it didnt go so easy after all.” I’m pretty sure the first words I said as I woke up were “told you it wouldnt be easy” lmao

Remember how hospital #1 told me that my gallbladder wasn’t inflamed and there were only a couple gallstones?

It was chock goddamn full of gallstones and so inflamed that when they tried to get it out laparoscopically, it tore. He spent an hour trying to get it out that way safely before realizing that his only recourse is to cut me open and get it out that way. The procedure took closer to 5 hours.

I have at least 20 staples in my belly now and I hope I get a cool fuckin scar but shit hurts still. I was in the hospital slowly ramping up to eating solid food again until Friday when I was allowed to go home to Saer. I can’t lift anything more than 20 pounds for another like month, and my range of motion is a fraction of what it was before. I’m so easily exhausted now and i can barely do anything and it’s really fucking pathetic??? and every time I bring that up Saer is like “they TOOK your ORGAN” so

(its really sad that i’m so conditioned that If I’m Not Doing Everything I Can All The Time Then I’m Not Trying Hard Enough that even after having full surgery to remove an organ I’m like NO I CAN DO THE THING and then end up hurting myself s-sobs)

(we watched the episode of b99 today where gina comes back after getting hit by a bus and when she tried to dance while still in the halo saer pointed at her and was like “it u” and i was like “exCUSE” but like, tru)

anyhow, im home, and i have my wife with me, and saer is such a blessing right now because i cannot do SHIT and they need to help me off the couch sometimes if my dumb ass gets in a position with no leverage, and also ive already fallen off the couch like twice because i was like NO I GOT IT and saer was across the room like BEB NO U DONT and yeah im stubborn and stupid ok saer is saving me from myself for the most part

also also the app i drive for is shutting down in my city at the start of december hhhhh so now i also have to fuckin... find a job like this and uGH do not WANT ffff

but yeah thats something even my parents have okayed me holding off on until I’m better so if even my fuckin parents are like “pls chill???” yall know im fucked up

however i’m mostly weaned off opiod pain meds now and am only using them at night when it’s worse and hard to sleep, tylenol tends to take care of it well enough now. my range of motion is improving, too, but i am just still so easily tired that its frustrating. we went grocery shopping yesterday and even in the little motor scooter i was completely worn out by the end of it.

but im alive! all is well! i will continue improving! sorry for being so quiet during this but like I said, i’ve been some level of sedated for most of this event. not fully sedated except for the two procedures, but fentanyl and dilautin (ok i have no idea what it actually is and google isnt helping but i had a button for it) and then morphine and hydrocodone on top of not getting restful sleep At All due to pain, discomfort, and people coming in every hour for vitals checks... I was fuckin Gone i got fuckall done rip

however once my pain-induced blood pressure spike was lowered (i saw them take it at the ER and it was fuckin RED) everyone was like “...you have really good blood pressure??” like i’m pretty sure i have low blood pressure naturally and my size/genetics gives me high blood pressure and they kinda cancel each other out, but yeah. pretty cool.

my family kept swinging between “IF YOURE IN THAT MUCH PAIN FOR 24 HOURS YOU GO TO THE ER. YOU DO NOT WAIT THREE DAYS.” and “...jesus christ you have a high pain tolerance”

//throws the horns thats what chronic pain does to ya baybee

my mom especially was impressed because she was just like “you’re so calm talking to them about how much it hurts how are you doing that” and im just like “its literally wasted energy to freak out and i hurt too badly to move so im just gonna sit here and tell them im a ten and hope they take pity on me because i have no other options”

anyhow fun new experience and im pretty sure ive broken my brother’s hospitalization record and also pretty sure i’ve got enough medical debt on me now that i can literally file for bankruptcy so

also i can feel a void near my ribs and it is so bizarre yall fuckin organs need to close the gap asap bc this shit weird as hell

[prorevenge]

The Water Fountain Incident

So, my brother and I are highly competitive. We fight, argue and try to outdo the other. This happened late last year and we still laugh over it due to the stupidity. I don’t know if this counts as revenge, but It’s pretty funny.

I was trying to play Soccer, (attempting and failing horribly. I was a bench warmer the entire Season and only played once every three games if it wasn’t a big one,) and my dad and brother was trying to help. Well, he (my brother) swept my legs out from beneath me and I landed in the ground.

The air was swiftly knocked frim my lungs and I started panicking when I couldn’t breathe. I was hitting the ground and was turning blue before my dad stopped my panicking allowing me to breathe. It hurt so bad, and we found out I had a HUGE bruise on the right side of my body where I fell.

Fast forward to about a week, it was healing but still very sore. I got pulled aside multiple times asking if my home life was good and had to tell the embarrassing story to not only my senior teammates but also my coaches, PE teacher and principal along with my Headmaster.

I was a clumsy person, and everyone knew this. However, one kid pushed it to the extreme. He poked my bruised side and during PE he would constantly throw balls or push me into the wall on my injured side. He would not only mock me, but my family. None of them except my little sister attended the same school as me. Well, one day I was bitching about him and forgot my sister was there.

She of course, knew who I was talking about and spilled all the bad shit I was saying about him, TO HIM. He confronted me and got in my face about it. Of course, I got pissed off and told him to f*ck off and if he didn’t that I would wipe the floor with his sorry ass.

Now, I would say I’m a very nice person. My signature rule is that people can mock me, but can’t mick my family otherwise I’ll tell them off. I have to have a punch thrown at me or my younger siblings to throw a punch AND I do NOT allow any unconsented touching, especially my boobs, butt and womanhood.

I was sexually assaulted when I was younger, and therefore have absolutely NO tolerance to touching. If you touch me without me knowing I’ll punch you. Fight reflex.

Well, this school had a combined lunch period, all the highschool students sat in one HUGE ASS lunchroom. I sat with a few upperclass men and would talk about stuff. (Cars, Sports, Video Games, etc.,) and we’d occasionally talk about our horrible home lives. (We were all abused, verbally or physically.)

I got thirsty, and since I’m on my ADHD meds, I don’t really eat. I forgot my meds that morning and settled with only my afternoon pills and had them in my hand walking up to the water fountain. I told the teachers that I had them and they of course, asked me to text my mom to see if it’s true. Of course, my mom texted back saying it was and I resumed walking to the water fountain.

I popped the pills in my mouth and drank some water, I was still thirsty so decided to drink some more until I felt a hand on my butt that squeezed one of my butt cheeks. Without thinking, or even seeing who it was, I turned around, grabbed a fistful of hair and slammed the pervert’s face into the water fountain.

Turns out, it was that dude. So, I pretended not to notice and slammed his head into the water fountain. Again. And again, and again until two of his buddies rushed over with some of the football team and the teachers. They pulled me off of him and we were sat down on seperate parts of the lunch table. The police came in and so did the school nurse. They asked us question and I told them everything.

Told them about me falling and playing soccer, him mocking me, pushing me into the wall purposely, then grabbing my ass. I also told them I had a fight reflex and explained why. They understood and quickly asked the boy why he did it and all he said was: “didn’t think she’d fuck me up.” I then proceeded to tell him I told him I’d wipe the floor with him, but I didn’t plan it would be not only in front of his friends, but the ENTIRE high school. This of course, made the officers chuckle and stuff because they see I’m utterly done with his shit.

That’s when they ask about pressing charges. I shrug and I grab my phone and call up my mom, telling them I’d have to consolt her since I’m not old enough to really make that decision alone. The whole situation didn’t bother me, in fact, I felt good I put the school asshole on his ass.

Anyway, I call my mom and she picks up, I tell her what happens and she stops. “What’s his last name again hun?” I tell her the last name and my mom laughs. She calls in someone into her office and I see out if the corner of my eyes the boy turns pale.

My mom asks if the boy is her son and the lady nods. My mom starts to tell her all the things he did to me and there’s a silence on the phone. I go to ask if their still there until the lady shoots off in German curses and switches to English. “You know better than to do such a thing!” Then proceeds to chew him out in front of the high school, police, teachers, principal and headmaster.

My mom says that we won’t press charges, and she’s confident that her co-worker will take care of it. She hangs up the phone and I just look at the boy. He’s pale faced and barely breathing. I want to laugh but my kind heart makes me want to hug him, despite all the shit he’s put me through.

Weeks go by, and my parents tell us to dress up nice and stuff. I’m in a nice dress, the bruise is finally gone, and I don’t have an acne breakout. Life’s going great. Well, I go to open the door only to see my mom’s co-worker, her husband and dreadfully their child.

I allow them in, and their all dressed nicely as well and I take their jackets and such. I hang them on the coat hanger by the door and I turn around to see the boy. Out of instinct I slap his arm and he seems confused. I instantly apologize and he seems to realize that I have a fight reflex.

He asks about it and I shrug, not wanting to tell the dude about it. Of course, he goes snooping around and finds pictures of me and my molester when I was younger. They were all ripped, and he asks me about them. Being the trusting person I am, I tell him. He seems extremely uncomfortable with the information and I proceed to tell him that it happened long ago, that its all in the past.

He tells me that he’s really sorry and he just thought that he’d be able to tell me how he’s really feeling. I get confused and he comes out saying he likes me and that he didn’t really kniw how to show it, and when he grabbed my ass he was going to confess. Until I slammed his face into the water fountain.

Of course, I start freaking out and panicking. Not good at social situations like this at all. Of course, his mother is a nurse like mine and he’s been taught about anxiety attacks and helps me calm down a bit. We talk and such and I told him I’m not ready for a relationship sadly, but I want to get to know him and give him another chance. (Forgive and No Forgetting.)

Of course we grow close and now we’re happily together. We all laugh about this from time to time and he still dies in embarrassment and shame every single time. I constantly thank my brother and I’s competitive nature, otherwise this boy probably wouldn’t be mine.

(submit your pro revenge story) (story by anonymous)