#i wouldn’t be sitting here crying because my body just constantly has a rot all over it that i can’t get over

[drivemysoul]

idk i just kind of regret every choice ive made in the last 2 years

[geekforhorror]

catharsis

pairing: rots!anakin x fem!reader

warning(s): body image issues, fluff, praise, pet names (sweetheart, darling, etc), make out session

Anakin didn’t know what was going on with his girlfriend and it was starting to worry him profusely. They had been dating for 6 months now and they shared everything together. Both of them had seen the other at their lowest, comforted each other, and most importantly; loved each other. That’s why Anakin was concerned about her wellbeing.

It started off with the littlest things, just enough for him to notice. At times, she insisted on changing in the bathroom after finishing her shower, which made sense because it was an occurrence in the beginning of their relationship and he thought that maybe she wasn’t ready to change in front of him, which he totally understood. However, even six months in, she still had this habit and he noticed she had picked up several more. If her shirt rode up just the tiniest bit, she would immediately pull it down and pray that Anakin wouldn’t notice. Or the times when he placed his hands on her hips, her face was in a panicked sort of state and told him she wasn’t comfortable with it. It wasn’t a total lie, but just not for the reasons Anakin was expecting. They never even had sex because every time he lovingly slipped his hands beneath her shirt, she would always grab it and pull it away from her flesh, which he also understood. She hated keeping this a secret from the love of her life because she knew he would never keep a secret from her.

It’s not like she enjoyed constantly lying to him and his pretty face. She wanted to tell him what was bothering her more than anything, but she was ashamed of letting the words slip out, but she was mostly afraid of what he would think of her if she told him the truth.

But right now, she was sitting on his bed with him and watching a holodrama. She loved being in his quarters because it made her feel safe and cared for. She loved the personality of his room as well. While the flick was playing, Anakin placed his head on her shoulder and wrapped his right arm around her waist. Suddenly, her breath became hitched and her diaphragm tightened because of the contact. He noticed the signs all too well and he had to say something. Anything. Anything to help her. He paused the film and finally decided to speak.

“Baby what’s wrong?” he asks sounding concerned.

“It’s nothing,” she responded skeptically, but inside she was terrified. Terrified of the thought that he may have finally caught on.

“I love you sweetheart and you know you can tell me anything, right?” he assured her in a soothing voice. Tears were threatening to spill from her glossy eyes and she didn’t want Anakin seeing her like this. Like she was weak, fragile.

“Please don’t cry sweetheart. Tell me what’s bothering you. I won’t judge you,” he says softly as he runs his fingers through her hair.

“You’re going to think it’s stupid… that I’m stupid.” she sputtered.

“Nonsense. I would never and I mean, never think that about you because you’re anything but stupid,” he assures her. And he meant every word he said.

“How do you know that?!” she exclaimed.

“Because I love you more than anything. Do you honestly think I’d be here right now if I didn’t love you?”

The room suddenly became quiet yet the silence was so loud to the point where one of you want to break the silence, but didn’t know how to.

“I wanna help you baby. I really do,” Anakin said to his girlfriend.

She let out a rather shallow breath and Anakin noticed this too. It was time to tell him everything. To tell him what was making her so self conscious all the time. Maybe it would set her free.

“Alright Ani, but promise me you won’t think of me differently when I tell you,”

“I promise baby,” he said in the most soothing voice in order to calm her down.

“The reason why I’m distant sometimes has nothing to do with you. it has something to do with one of my biggest insecurities,“ she said. She could already feel her voice start to croak. Maybe she couldn’t go through with telling him this. It was too much for her alone, so how could she be sure Anakin would be fine with finding this out? She already began talking about it, so there was no going back now.

“I have a really ugly birthmark on my back and it’s affected my self-esteem for as long as I could remember,“ she lets out, tears spilling from her beautiful eyes.

“A birthmark sweetheart?” he asks.

“Yes, but it’s not a normal birthmark Ani. It’s so disgusting and it makes me feel disgusting,” she sobs.

He wrapped his arms around her in an attempt to comfort her, but she continues to cry into his shoulder. He didn’t know a birthmark was the root of all of her self-esteem issues, but it hurt him to see her so hurt over this.

“It’s ok baby. I’ve got you.”

“That’s why I never let you see what I look like underneath all of my clothes. Because I’m afraid you won’t love me anymore,” she rambled in a shaky voice. He had never seen her like this and he never wanted to.

“I would never stop loving you, especially over something like that,” Anakin reassured her. “Show me the birthmark,” he said, in non-demanding way, more of a suggestion.

“I wish I could Anakin,” she says in a gloomy voice.

“I can’t imagine a pretty girl like you hating yourself over something like that,” he admitted truthfully.

“That’s because you haven’t seen it yet.”

“I’m sorry sweetheart. I shouldn’t have said that to you.” he says in an attempt to apologize to his girlfriend.

“You don’t have to apologize. You were just telling me what you thought.

“You are the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen sweetheart." he says before kissing her multiple times on the lips.

Despite his words of encouragement, she had this feeling in her stomach and it made her feel uneasy. She let out a shallow breath before speaking next.

“Do you want to see it?” she asked him.

“Only if you feel comfortable enough with it. I won’t force you if you don’t want to,” he says.

“Ok I will,” she says.

Here goes nothing.

She lifted just enough of her shirt to expose the birthmark that was indented on her right side of her back and takes a deep breath once more. She was scared to be so exposed and now thought that he might think of her differently.

“It’s on this side,” she said, pointing her fingers in the right direction so that he could find it easily. He takes a long look at the birthmark in awe and is speechless. Many seconds pass by with dead silence, which makes her even more anxious.

“Say something. Anything,” she begs of him.

“You look so pretty. It’s absolutely nothing to be ashamed of,” he coos.

“You really mean it Ani?” she asked.

“Do you even have to ask? Look at yourself, sweetheart,” he says out of genuine love. She knew he wasn’t trying to just make her feel better but how did she? His eyes. His eyes were filled with the utmost love and adoration. For her. “You’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen and no birthmark will ever change that,”

“I love you baby,” she lets out.

“I love you too, sweetheart,” he says before kissing the mark on her skin.

She needed that.

“Come here,” he says, motioning his hands in an attempt to get her to come closer.

She happily obliges and scoots closer to him on the bed. Anakin wraps his arm around her and rubs her back with his calloused fingers as she rests her head on his shoulder. It felt like the world had stopped and it was only the two of them together, side by side.

[sword-brainrot]

Hello~! I'm the Anon who asked for the Saniwa with the part-time job.

Don't worry hc were enough! I don't want to cause more work for you :3

But those hc were good! Can I ask for the same thing but with Yagen Toushirou, Minamoto Kyomaru and Suishinshi Masahide!

Thank you ^^

Hello again!! I'm so happy that you enjoyed the previous ones!! They are always such a blast to write.

TW: violence, blood, burns/scars, S*icide mention

♡  Yagen wouldn't be at your café often but would show up from time to time. Normally when he was with some of his younger siblings (only like two because OH GOD). He would often be busy at the citadel doing any work you assigned him for that day or working on new medicine.

♡  Yagen has rarely any time to take a break. He is very much so a workaholic. You will always see him working on something, so it takes his brothers a lot of begging to get him to stop. When they do, it's to go to the café where you work. A lot of the younger swords miss you a lot when you are not at home.

♡  Yagen will take the chance of coming to visit you as a chance to buy stuff at stories for medicines he is working on or maybe a book to help him study. So often times, they will come into the café with some bags that he bought just before coming in.

♡  He will make sure that his younger siblings don't bother you when you are working! He will buy them a small dessert while ordering some tea for himself. He doesn't want to cause more trouble for you because he knows you are working hard to support everyone at the citadel and really admires you for it.

♡  That being said, he does worry about you a lot. Don't be surprised if you feel eyes on you while you work. As soon as you look over at him, he will advert his eyes and pretend he was just reading. In actuality he was trying to study your body language and facial expressions to make sure you aren't overworking yourself.

♡  They will stay at your café for about an hour, at most. Before he gathers them up and says one last goodbye before taking them home.

♡  When you do get home, you are not allowed to work all that much. He understands you have to do paperwork and assign jobs for the swords but he will make extra sure you are taking breaks and eating properly. So don't be surprised if you see him much more often around you after you get back. He will make sure to bring you tea, snacks, and maybe some sleeping medicine at night if you can't fall asleep.

♡  Customers are relatively patient and understanding, so he often doesn't have to worry all that much when you are working.

♡  So expect a very shocked Yagen walking into the café and seeing hot coffee being poured on you when the customer gets so angry for getting the order wrong. Shock quickly turns into pure anger. He will push his younger siblings away before dashing over to the scene.

♡  Yagen is one of the fastest Tantous. You won't even see him. It will be a blur in front of your eyes before you finally realize that Yagen had just dashed from the door to the other side of the café and right into the man. The man now knocked out, laying against the wall he was just driven into by Yagen.

♡  The anger quickly fades from his face since the man is no longer his concern. His attention is quickly brought over to you, worry on his face and he doesn't even attempt to hide it. His gloved hands with quickly find yours, and guide you quickly to the back to help you.

♡  His siblings will follow the both of you, very concerned about you. Expect Yagen to be very quiet during this time. It will be mostly his younger siblings asking you if you are okay and having small talk to you.

♡  Yagen will hold you very gently as immerse the burns in cool water. His treatment is fast but gentle. He won't look at you in the eyes as he puts on the lotion and bandages the burn. The most he will say will asking his siblings to be a little more quiet and careful around you.

♡  The first time he will look at you will be when he gives you a pill to relieve the pain that you must be feeling. His eyes will still look insanely worried for you and you will see his mouth in a straight line, as if he is holding back emotions. He can't let you or his siblings see him cry.

♡  Yagen had to see many people hurt, almost all of them being people he cares about deeply. Sometimes, they wouldn't make it and break/pass away. He knows you are fully human and a little more fragile than him and the rest of the swords. It is only then, when seeing you hurt, does he realize how terrified he is about losing you.

♡  Yagen had lost his previous master and his mastered used him to die. He doesn't want to lose you too. He is no longer just a blade, he can make sure he can protect you.

♡  After his emotions are more under control, he will declare; "My siblings care about you a lot. All the swords care about you a lot." He will look down as he continues, "I care about you a lot. So get better soon and when situations like that happen and get too dangerous... It's okay to run away and rely on us. It doesn't make you weak. So don't go pushing yourself too far or else I won't forgive you. There is only so much I can help heal..."

♡  When you get home, you will have your own personal nurse around. Yagen will be around much more now. He will make sure you have everything you need and make sure you aren't working too much so your wounds can heal. He is also going to be the sword that is constantly changing your bandages and making sure you are taking your medicine and resting. He isn't going to allow him to back sass him either. You are following HIS orders until you fully heal.

♡  He isn't going to prevent you from working or going back to the café, though. He knows you are responsible and will do what you wish but he wants you to be aware that everyone cares about you and will be there if you need them. As well as not pushing yourself too far.

♡  Minamoto will often times show up at the café! Normally in the afternoon with Suishinshi. Minamoto often challenges poor Suishinshi at the arcade and whoever loses has to pay for the winner's food and drink. Let's just say... Minamoto isn't the one paying often and you see a very angry sword hiding half his face in his collar because of it.

♡  Minamoto thinks it's great that you are working in the café because it seems like something you really enjoy doing! Even if it's stressful sometimes. He honestly wishes he could also work with you and help out around the café but knows that working there is on a strict schedule that he just can't follow due to being a Touken Danshi (sword warrior). He has to be prepared to work around the citadel or go off to missions any moment you say the word. He respects that too.

♡  Doesn't mean he doesn't do his own work though! He actually gets paid to win stuffed animals from claw machines for people and sometimes enters gaming tournaments around the town to try to win some money for you and the citadel. He wants to help too! In his own special way.

♡  Speaking of that, he is very good at claw machines! So if he knows you like a certain animal or character (or maybe he just thinks it's cute), he will win it for you and show it to you when he gets to the café to surprise you and bring up your day! He knows you two can't talk much while you are working but he wants to make you smile any way he can and brighten your stressful day.

♡  Even though he shows up often to the café, he doesn't stay too long. He doesn't want to take up too much of your time when he knows you are busy. He wants to relieve your stress, not add onto it.

♡  Minamoto will try to make you some of the drinks or desserts back at the citadel for when you return! It... does not taste the same. He can make it look pretty! The taste is lacking though. It's the thought that counts. He would love it if you two cook together and you teach him how to make it! Anything to get your mind off work and just enjoy your time away from it. Bonus points if you actually enjoy cooking.

♡  As everyone knows, Minamoto is actually a pretty chill person. He doesn't look for a fight and eager to welcome anyone new and let them know that he respects them. That being said, his emotions sometimes gets the best of him and doesn't want to confront them directly which might come off more passive aggressive.

♡  I bring this up because the side he shows when everything goes down will not be a pretty one.

♡  He will be having a little chat with Suishinshi as they enjoy their drinks (Suishinshi with black coffee where every time he takes a sip, it looks like he is getting hit but he has to look mature. And Minamoto with a very sweet smoothie that could probably rot your teeth if you're not careful) but then will hear the loud commotion coming not too far from them. As soon as Minamoto sees that it's you that is involved, he rushes to get up and protect you. Not wasting any moments and nearly throwing the table on it's side. The drinks that were on it, broken, on the floor.

♡  Even though he rushed, he witnesses you getting the hot coffee poured on you right in front of him. Just a little too slow to get there. Horror will be written on his face as he turns his attention to the man who just did that to you.

♡  Fury. The man lasts no chance before Minamoto has him on the floor and letting his anger get the best of him.

♡  It is Suishinshi that urges you to go into the back with a follow coworker to get your wounds handled. It is also Suishinshi that pulls Minamoto off the customer. The once angry customer is now beaten and bleeding badly. However he is still conscious and rushes to get away from the swords. Suishinshi understands how his friend his feeling but knows that he can't let his anger get the best of him... Not here.

♡  Suishinshi will be the one that goes into the back to see you and take you home. Minamoto will be no where to be found. He has to cool off before he can see you.

♡  You will find him much later, on the rooftop looking at the stars. He will be much more quiet than ever before and won't look at you if you sit next to him. It will take a while before you can hear his voice that sounds stressed, as if not wanting to let more emotions get out.

♡  "You should of ran. You didn't have to take what he was saying... You-" He would pause as he grips his cloak, "You didn't have to see that side of me."

♡  He doesn't mean to blame you and would apologize a lot when he realizes it comes off like that. He knows that it isn't /your/ fault. He has a lot of emotions welling inside of him as he thinks about the incident and now seeing your skin bandaged. He never wanted to see you hurt like that.

♡  If you touch him and get close, everything he was holding back would just break. He would be sobbing into your shoulder as he expressed how he was so scared that he was going to lose you and not protect you. How he wanted to not cause more stress for you but ended up being useless and causing so much more stress and hurt onto you. His hug will be tight but gentle to make sure to not touch any of the wounded areas.

♡  He cares about you a lot that sometimes he doesn't know how to react to some of his more darker emotions. He didn't mean for today to turn out like that. He promises to be better and make sure to never let his anger get the best of him like that again.

♡  Like stated above, Suishinshi comes to the café often with Minamoto! He will often complained that Minamoto dragged him along but in actuality, it was Suishinshi dragging Minamoto. Though, you don't need to know that he misses you often when you aren't in the citadel. He will keep that secret just between him and Minamoto. Minamoto knows not to tease him about it because he will get defensive and just not go, then gets all depressed for not seeing you. So instead, he just smiles and goes along with it. Anything for his best friend.

♡  Suishinshi still often pays for the meals and drinks when they go because Minamoto still brings him along to the arcade. If he wants to see you so bad, he has to play a few rounds with Minamoto.

♡  Although he is often angry about losing, he does cheer up quite a bit when you come over and smile at them before asking for their order. You may even see a small blush on his cheeks that he tries to hide with his collar.

���  He still orders black coffee even though it is very clear he does not like it, at all. He wants to impress you and show you that he is very mature and can handle bitter foods/drinks! Though you can see Minamoto often laughing at him for trying to drink his cup and making a face each time... HE WILL DRINK IT ALL. He will not back down.

♡  Even after Suishinshi and Minamoto leave after their order, you will find him outside the café around closing time. He will act like he just came back to do some shopping but he will not be holding anything. He is really just looking for an excuse to be with just you and walk you home after work. Don't point it out, he has an image to uphold!!

♡  Will wrap his cloak/jacket around you if it's cold when you both are walking home. "You shaking so much is distracting me, just take it". You won't even be shaking but he will say you were anyway. His cloak/jacket is very warm! Personal heater sword right there. Though he gets cold often but will still want you to swear the cloak/jacket.

♡  Don't be too surprised if you still him glaring at other customers when he is in the café. If he sees anyone looking at you in interest, his eyes are locked on them and he is giving them the death glare. He won't stop until they get the note. If you ask him about it, he will reply very bluntly to you with "I don't like their face."

♡  He can be very rude to those not important to him. Especially those that are trying to do something with his master.

♡  He is trying to get better at expressing his emotions! Emphasis on try. Sometimes when you both just get home and you both are hanging up your coat, hat, and taking off your shoes, he will mutter very softly for you to hear; "Good work today" before running off. You can't even ask what he said or thank him because he is already gone by the time you hear it and look over to him.

♡  He wants you to know that he supports you in everything you do but is really bad at putting that into words. Even worst with confronting you directly about it without running away. Just know that he means it every time he does get it out! He cares about you a lot more than he is able to express.

♡  So when he sees someone causing you trouble in the café one day? Oh no... He doesn't wait and gets up right away. Minamoto is the one that tries to calm him down, saying that aruji (master) can handle it. They are very capable on their own as well! That is the only reason that Suishinshi hesitates for a moment.

♡  But it is in that moment when the situation grows dire and coffee gets splashed onto you. Both swords stand there in shock for a moment before rushing forward. Suishinshi wastes no further moments and quickly knees the customer in the stomach to make them topple over, onto the ground.

♡  However, he doesn't focus on them. Instead, he turns his attention onto you and gently grabs you to rush you into the back. Minamoto is the one that deals with the violent customer (this time a little more calm but still seething).

♡  "It's okay. It's okay.." He will keep repeating as he puts cold water on your burns. You are unsure if he is trying to reassure you or himself. You will see him on the slight panic mode as he tries to help your wounds. Him shaking rather bad and dropping any item he tries to hold and help. A coworker will have to come in and actually help bandage and take care of your wounds as Suishinshi is escorted out to calm down.

♡  As soon as you come out of the room, now bandaged up, you will see him pacing back and forth in the cafe. Minamoto trying to get him to sit down and breathe. As soon as he hears the door open, his eyes shoot over to you and he runs over. Grasping you gently as he starts to go on a tangent.

♡  "A-are you okay? Are you hurt badly? Can you walk? Oh god that was dumb, of course you can. How are your eyes? Can you see? How many fingers am I holding up? Do you remember my name? My liege, do you know how worried I was about you? You shouldn't of..." He would stop and look down at the ground as he tries to catch his breath that he wasn't aware he was holding, "You shouldn't of been the one that got hurt. I should of taken the hit and your pain. I am sorry for failing you as your sword. I have no right to the title of Touken Danshi."

♡  Don't expect to continue working for a while. Suishinshi is normally one to not give affection openly but after that incident, good luck getting rid of him from your side. He will be constantly trying to help you around the citadel and not letting you touch almost anything that could hurt you.

♡  Also expect him to constantly be cuddling with you (if you allow it). It is more for him than you. He wants to make sure he doesn't lose you and protect you.

♡  There will be times where he is cuddling you from behind, with his chin resting on your shoulder and another sword will come in, telling you about missions reports. Suishinshi will be glaring at them from your shoulder. Almost like a feral cat trying to tell people to leave their owner alone.

♡  Suishinshi will say that he won't allow you to go back to work but if you really wanted to, you could. He is just very paranoid of a similar incident happening again.

♡  When/if you do start working again, expect him to be there everyday for the first good while. He won't use Minamoto as an excuse anymore and will just be there by himself. He wants to make sure to protect you! It will take a long time before he will actually distance himself from you and not be at your side all the time. You might have to talk to him to let him know that it will be okay and that it won't happen again. Even then, he will be scared and still show up fairly often. He will break the habit overtime!

[ijustwant2write]

Never Alone-Peter Parker x Male!Reader

(GIF credit to @starkissedtom​)

Tags: @amirahiddleston​​ @bloodorangemoonlight​​ @slowkib​

Requested by @slowkib : ‘Hi! Can I request peter Parker x male!reader in zombie apocalypse au? Like from the last of us?’

Characters: Peter Parker x Male!Reader, Avengers x Male!Reader

Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name

Warnings: Dystopian zombie future, guns, violence, mention of death, fighting, swearing, fluff

(A/N: I’ve never played ‘The Last of Us’, so I did my own thing with this)

                                        *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

My fingers traced over the empty shelves as I walked down the aisles in the grocery store. It was covered in dust after being bare for the past year. There was literally nothing left, not even any rotting food. A bang broke me out of my trance, making me clutch onto my gun and duck behind another shelf. No other noise came, and I knew that if any zombies were around, I would be able to hear something; I was too used to the dragging of their bodies, a low groaning sound, even heavy breathing. Taking a risk, I peeked around the corner of the shelf, into the main aisle, not seeing anything, not even a shadow.

“Hey!” Peter whispered beside me.

I jumped, but made no sound.“Peter! Why would you do that?!”

He was perched on top of the shelf, having obviously climbed down from the ceiling.“Sorry, but at least I was quiet!”

“Yeah, I guess.” I sighed, relaxing slightly.

“What’s up?”

“Nothing. Just living in the apocalypse, you know?” 

He silently jumped down beside me, joining me to sit on the floor.“We’ll get through this, we’ve got each other.”

I smiled as he held my hand.“But...I really don’t mean to be negative today, but I’m running out of positivity all together. This is never ending. I thought....I thought that maybe S.H.I.E.L.D or even the Avengers would be able to help with this. And I know you all did at first but once our resources ran out, and technology became vast, it just seems like the end is inevitable. Maybe the world is supposed to end like this, after everything we’ve done to it, or it’s supposed to start over again-”

“Stop thinking like that! We’ve got through this last year, right?”

My head fell back as I scoffed.“That’s the thing. It’s only been a year but it feels like forever! I’m tired all the time. We’re constantly on the run, we’re never able to settle anywhere because zombies somehow come crawling along. We’ve had to kill so many of them. We have to take turns taking watch, but even if I’m able to sleep, my body won’t let me. I’m too tense all the time. I have plaguing nightmares that I’ll wake up and you won’t be there, you’ll be laying there dead. And we’ve been trying to find the Avengers all this time, but we’re not even close!”

I hunched up into a ball, hiding my face in my knees as I wrapped my arms around them, my shoulders shaking as I started to cry. Peter instantly hugged me, holding on tightly.

“I’m always going to be here. I’m going to protect you. Even if I wasn’t Spider-Man, because that has been a big bonus, I would still protect you from the zombies. I know this is nothing like The Walking Dead, or any comic we’ve read. But it’s amazing that we’ve survived, just the two of us. We can’t focus on the loss, we have to keep moving and think about the future. They’ve got to be alive, they’re the Avengers!”

“I know. I hate that we’re by ourselves, we’re not even adults! I don’t want to live like this. I want to be back in school. I want to be stuck in a maths class again. I want to be a normal teenager.”

“Well,” Peter tilted my face up to look at him, he was smiling,“it wasn’t exactly normal to begin with. You’re dating Spider-Man.”

I chuckled, wiping the tears off my cheeks.“Yeah, besides that, I want to go back to the way things were.”

He kissed my forehead.“I know. But if we keep thinking like that, we won’t get very far, will we? Yeah, the world has turned to shit, but I wouldn’t want to be stuck with anyone else.”

“You’re so cringey.”

“No, I’m just truthful. Come on, the area is clear, we can keep moving.”

Luckily, as we continued to walk to the next city, we didn’t encounter anymore zombies. We would sometimes goes days without seeing them, maybe the odd stray, but these were the times we tried to keep ourselves calm and reserved. Obviously our guard was always up, they could be around any corner, mostly when we got into towns or big cities. Our objective was to track down the Avengers, or anyone who was part of S.H.I.E.L.D. Our family and friends were gone, they were our last hope. It was impossible to think of a future with just the two of us like this. Although being with Peter was perfect, I had imagined a more cosy lifestyle together (as cosy as you could get being with a superhero), not battling zombies like I had seen on the TV. Oh, I missed TV.

Peter gasped, pushing me back into a tree. He had spotted something up ahead, and it was a big problem for us. He kept close to me, keeping an eye on the zombies.

“How many?” I whispered.

“Uh, th-there’s a group of them. Maybe...twenty I think.”

“OK, that���s not too bad. Usual tactic?”

“Wait, there’s more of them. I don’t know where they’re coming from, or why they’re here. There’s no one here to eat.”

“Except us.”

“Yeah, but something must have dragged them out here.”

“So what do we do?” 

“We’ll do what we usually do, we can’t wait them out or get around them.”

“Alright, let’s do this. I love you.”

“I love you too.” 

We quickly kissed before he climbed up the tree, preparing the swing and distract them, before I would go in and shoot them. It wasn’t the best idea, but it’s all we had. At first, Peter’s suit was able to use all it’s gadgets, until it was so battered and it had gone ages without an upgrade, that it was useless. It was just Peter’s webbing now. I waited for him to get the group webbed together, making them stuck as they struggled in the trap. I was about to start shooting at them when I saw more approaching. Peter was about to do the same thing when a zombie grabbed his leg as he swung past. He was thrown off, sending him tumbling onto the ground, landing at the feet of the new group. Was was drawing them near here?!

“Peter!” I yelled out.

Leaving the webbed zombies, I saved my ammunition to shoot at the ones near Peter. He scrambled away from them as I took my shots, trying to web them up as well. But more and more kept coming. We were in the middle of the woods, what had attracted them?

“(Y/N), we need to get out of here!” Peter shouted as the zombies started to close in.

“How?!”

“I could swing up and-”

“They’ll grab at us before we could get away!”

“Well what do you suggest?”

Before I could answer, the sound of some sort of aircraft echoed out. There hadn’t been any noise like that since...well, since the start of all of this. It also caught the attention of the zombies, giving us a chance to shoot our way out. Once out of the crowd, Peter scooped me up in his arms, swinging into a tree to ensure they couldn’t get to us. However, we found ourselves clinging onto the branches as the plane started descending, the engines making a lot of wind and shaking the entire forest.

“The quinjet! They’re here!” I barely heard Peter say.

“The what?!”

Because the tree was shielding us, it meant we couldn’t see what was going on before us. The trees stopped and calmed their rustling as the plane landed, before mechanical noises echoed out. But we heard people, they were all shouting at each other, going over the plan, grunts sounding out as they fought. Something flew past us, I saw flashes of red and yellow, and I knew exactly who it was.

“I’m going to help, stay here!” Peter said, not giving me a chance to stop him as he jumped out of the tree.

I shakily moved my position in the tree, trying to get to a better angle to see what was going on. A huge smile spread across my face, even a gasp came out of me as I saw the Avengers fighting off the swarms. They had found us! They had found Peter and were here to get us out of this mess! Shocked by the whole idea of escaping, I was suddenly brought back to reality as I heard a groan from someone close by. My eyes darted around, trying to find the person who may be struggling. It was Captain America, who found himself surrounded. He was trying not to get bit, but needed to fight his way out. Taking a deep breath to calm my shakes, I aimed my gun at one of the zombies. I wasn’t an amazing shooter, but I had improved over the year, and had faith I could help kill some of these monsters. 

I shot at two of them, managing to hit their heads. The super soldier’s head whipped up to where the bullets could have come from, nodding at me once he saw me hidden in the tree. I continued shooting, trying my best to help. I wasn’t going to be the damsel hidden away. It as amazing to see them fighting up close, they were so strong, so brave. I was always petrified whenever we had to face zombies.

It was over in minutes, zombies were an easy enemy for them to defeat. Everyone was catching their breaths, exchanging hugs with Peter. We’d been lost for over a year, but we were finally saved. This didn’t mean our happy ending was here, the world was still a shit hole, but it was one step closer. Once Peter had been embraced by everyone, he looked up to me, quickly climbing up the tree to help me down. I was suddenly nervous, it was like meeting his family all over again...although he had always called them that anyway, so it was.

“Guys,” Peter breathed, still tired from fighting,“this is my boyfriend, (Y/N).”

“H-hi.” I nervously stuttered.

“It’s been just you two? For how long?” Tony Stark (!) asked.

We nodded as Peter spoke.“For about a year. We tried saving everyone but...but we couldn’t.”

“You two did everything you could, I just know it.” Black Widow reassured us.“And it’s amazing that you’ve been smart enough to last this long. Not a lot of people out there.”

“Where have you guys been?” 

“S.H.I.E.L.D had a plan all along. As soon as they found out about the people stupidly experimenting with all of this, they made a backup. We were called in, tried to save as many people as we could. But, as you probably know, technology has been scarce, even for them. We’ve had a few cut backs, hence why it’s taken us so long to find you.” Captain America explained.

“You’re here now.” I piped up.“That’s all that matters. We’ve also been trying to find you.”

“Is everyone there? Dr Strange? Wanda? Ant-Man?” Peter asked.

They nodded. Mr Stark placed his hand on Peter’s shoulder.“They’re all there. We’re going to rebuild this world, because we’re the Avengers.”

Peter grinned.“We’ll avenge it.”

Tony rolled his eyes.“Yeah, that’s, that’s what I was getting at kid. Come on you two, you look like you’re in need of a good meal...or three.”

We followed them onto the quinjet eagerly, holding each others hands the whole time. As we put on our seat belts, we glanced at each other, a sudden overwhelming feeling hitting both of us. We were no longer alone. We were with the safest people we could be. Peter was reunited with his family, we were going somewhere where we wouldn’t have to lose sleep over our safety, and we could eat properly. And we were still alive, and still together.

“We did it. We found them.” I chuckled, my heart racing rapidly.

He squeezed my hand.“Yeah, we did. I’m so happy that I’ve still got you.”

“I love you so much.”

“I love you too. Everyone is going to love you.”

“I forgot that there’s more to meet.”

“Don’t worry, I have a good feeling about all of this.”

[commonalex]

future ready

future ready by common alex

Listen/download: future ready by common alex

It was around three months after I've been fired. I didn't dare to talk about it much, but it wouldn't that much of a mystery for someone to figure out why the short chick with the plaited hair isn't on the cash register giving wrong change to the old ladies anymore. To be perfectly honest, I was pretty devastated that I managed to fail even at working at the supermarket, where all you needed to get a grip was knowing how to count, wearing an "Olga" tag like a war medal, and acting like everything's okay at all times. Maybe that's why I ended up sneaking into it like a thief that day, out of stubbornness. It was the last sense of routine I had while everything was going under outside the window.

I could barely get out the bed before four in the afternoon. And when I did, all I had planned was dragging my body before the tv to catch some telemarketing and dumb commercials until the sun was out again and I successfully forgot who I am and what I'm going through. Because what other choices did I have really? For the last two years I was jumping from one dead end job to the next, either until I get fired or until I quit. I was leaving on benefits and a sad amount of savings, and I was starting to accept the fact that this would be my life from now on. Like, what else did I really have to rely on? Studies? Big deal, the world wouldn't end with just one english teacher less. Friends? Don't get me started. Family? All I was left with was a mother with a mission to make me feel horrible every time we spoke on the phone because I wasn't bothering to go see her. But even if I did, what would I have to say to her? I was mentally collapsing. So I said "leave it for now" and kept the thought pushed back for later. That's the reason why on that particular day I didn't pick up whenever my mom was ringing this cherry ericsson I had at the time. It wasn't like I really needed to answer, I already knew everything by heart.

"Have you seen how this girl you used to hang out at school does lately, Olga?".

No, mom, I haven't. It's been like ten years since I finished school.

"She's studying this thing you used to like, she got settled, she even has her own house".

Well done for her I guess, and?

"And you?".

I don't know what the hell I'm doing with my life anymore, mom.

"But don't you ever think about your future?".

My long awaited future, huh? What a glorious future that was. It was so good, half of the people I used to know didn't make it halfway through.

Outside things were a bit more casual that the deep existential turmoil that was described by the news at the time, yet I was indeed shocked by that eerie amount of silence that was stretching through the cold winds that was piercing my purple coat. I could hear a tv screaming from two blocks away and the screeching roars of the phone lines echoing around the city, but there was barely any human voice left. I was only catching some mumbles and grunts here and there as I was jumping out of fear every time I had to turn around a corner. So it was just like everyday Athens, only with a little more of snow and fear of getting mugged. My social atrophy made me feel like I was being chased as the surrounding landscape was rapidly being stripped from anything that was reminiscing of a typical day. Like, that was the first time I ever saw people looting kiosks and butcher shops. I only managed to see like three to five people with their backs hunched, covering their faces while carrying those huge gray tv screens with the vhs player still attached or fifteen bags of chips, with their eyes moving around uncontrollably. All I had in my mind seeing these scenes was the word "brutalization". Maybe because all this time I wasn't fully aware of what was going on, or maybe because the news told the truth for once.

I snuck from the side door where the staff entrance was, because all the glass on the front of the supermarket was smashed to pieces and I didn't like the thought of my hands sliced open. It was a mess on the inside and the aisles stood empty like sad metal canyons. People must have broke in trying to get all the toiler paper and canned foods left in the previous weeks. From the expired milk bottles at the back to the unstoppable static noise of the refrigerators in front of me, there were all those special little touches to make me feel like I was working in this hole of a job again. And no, I did not bother searching for supplies. Instead, I walked around like I was out shopping with my mom, opening the boxes of the diabetes flavored cereal that no one bother to take, just to steal their toys. I also found a bunch of unopened boxes of the supermarket's very own faux chocolate milk (yes, the one with the dark industrial waste left on the bottom) that was probably expired as well. But, I was a lady, right? So I took some of them to the cash register, because Olga ain't no petty thief. I got around my place of work and scanned the bottles to find out that they cost something less than three hundred and seventy-five million. "Luckily, I don't have to calculate any change now", I thought. Never before have I ever experienced such relief while being there. I was sitting in the same place I was rotting for hours before the world turned to shit, and I was patiently waiting for a huge line of old ladies to pop out of nowhere just to ruin my vibe with their pension money bills. I almost started to miss all of those stuff. This must meant that things have really turned to shit.

The new millennium have begun just like any other year, against the disappointment and secret eagerness of some people. All that screaming about the revelation, the second coming of Satan, the aliens, and the revolution of the machines faded miserably as the days went by and absolute destruction was not to be seen. Yet, at least. Because the first planes that crashed mid-flight in South Africa and Indonesia didn't appear before the end of January, but all were like "okay, technical problems". And when missiles were accidentally landing on Iraqi cities, people were like "well, what to do, technical problems yet again". Only when the bank deposits got erased people started to cry and run like headless chickens. Young people now would call me cynical, but you had to be there to see it. It was crystal clear that people had all of their hopes and dreams for tomorrow stored into a single digit of a computer. A kind of tomorrow which was now failing to promise anything anymore in front of millions of simultaneous personal bankruptcies. Then the reactors in Italy exploded due to a system failure and tomorrow officially died. This tomorrow that we were told would bring everything to us, from cancer treatments to all of Britney's music stored in a tiny mini-disc. From flying cars to underground metros. From huge tv screens for each living room to the giant digital information highway better know as the INTERNET. Nowadays all of these sound so silly, but the pain in the faces of people from the betrayal of their dream did not seem to go away. Until mid-February, everyone lost their minds. Those who saw all of this coming ran away in fear of the new Chernobyl to leave the rest of us behind to die. Shops, services, offices, all ceased to have any actual reason to exist in from of the impending disaster. All you could see around anymore were padlocks, deflated bodies on the street from people that couldn't take it anymore, and some shadows of people left to wander like animals while pretending to be alive. Maybe that's why the tv was constantly playing commercials and other irrelevant bullshit during all of this, it was the last useful thing they could show to the people that were preparing for the grand finale.

But that grand finale wasn't so tangible for me. Everyone had this type of end predetermined, but this panic of theirs seemed more like a slightly less shallow version of the preexisting self-preservation to me. I wasn't convinced by those who screamed that the world was over simply because it already happened to their world. Like, just as Rome wasn't built in one day, their illusions weren't shattered overnight. I mean, at that time the supermarket was filled with those obnoxious promotional banners featuring the new slogan that was everywhere lately, before things change for the worse. They had the "FUTURE READY" catchphrase in large white letters that spread noisy and ridiculous lacking any particular meaning as everything was collapsing. What future exactly was that slogan referring to? The future in general, as a concept of time and space? They wouldn't have thought that out that much. Was it the future of humanity from now on? I wouldn't be so concerned for this with all those rich fucks that had already kissed as goodbye from their shelters, we were far from being extinct and in maybe less that ten years we could wake up with someone like Will Smith ruling the world. No, the catchphrase probably meant that future with the flying cars and the internet. The future only fools would believe it would come (and yes, people actually believe that). That future we lost just as fast as we were promised for it.

So in short, we were crabs in a bucket, pulling each other down in excruciating depths. This wasn't living nor surviving; we more or less kept on functioning like bio-robots with depression. But for me, things weren't looking so grim. "Look at me", I would say, "I reached twenty-nine and haven't done crap to be proud of, I drink expired chocolate milk and I'm secretly glad the world is ending because every day was borderline unbearable for me anyway, so how good would the future be for someone like me?". Nowadays the denial of any form of reality in this reasoning stands out, but at that moment I was reaching redemption. I was now reassured by the thought of the end, acting like a barrier that could block this endless loop that was running relentlessly against me. "So finally", I said to myself, "let's calm down once and for all". I was spinning around in the cashier's chair like a silly kid and was finishing up the bottles of milk like there's no tomorrow, while convincing myself that once everything goes to hell, my torment is over.

My phone’s vibrating through my coat cut me off the carefree twirling around my craziness. "Mom" was flashing on the screen again, but by that point I couldn't be bothered for explanations. Still, the dialogue kept running automatically like a script inside my head.

"I just can't get you. Do you keep on acting unbothered by the world? Even now? Who are you trying to convince anymore, Olga? Me? Because I know you have roughened up out of fear".

Well, truth is I was actually fearing you would start with that kind of shit again.

"You are getting more and more difficult to talk to. You are basically denying something we both clearly see at this point".

We seem to say the same exact thing, ain't that something? I guess I was kinda doomed from the start to be and look just like you.

"You really do me dirty with all these conclusions you're drawing out of anger".

Okay, so what? Did you get upset?

"Why are you angry at me, Olga? Can I hear you say it, just for once?"

I don't have the time for this thing again, mother, I need to enjoy my remaining days over here.

"How much do you think this will last for you? When will you stop stalling and start looking after you and your future again, Olga?"

What future do I have, really, are you kidding me?

-Are you talking to yourself, ma'am?

I almost slipped out of the chair. I had never experienced such horror before. I was barely held off the bench to help me  get up again slowly with my heart sinking to my stomach, only to see a little girl with plaited pigtails looking at me half-frightened. She wasn't over nine years old, judging by the face and the childish dress she wore under this puffy purple coat.

-Why are you here? Where are your parents?

-Over here, come and take a look! But mom told me not to talk to strangers!

That of course made zero sense to me. Just like it made zero sense for a child to be left alone in a destroyed supermarket with the sun setting outside. I asked for the girl's name, nothing. I asked again, she hid her puzzled frown behind her pigtails trying to playfully imitate my posture with her hands on my waist.

-I'm Olga, I work here. And you?

She started to say something and suddenly changed her mind, running like hell to the back. I was confused thinking how would I look like to someone who saw me chasing a little girl in there, but then I reminded myself that probably nobody would be left to live to the end of this month, so I wouldn't be considered crazy for too long. I began running under the flickering ceiling lights and with each step I had to swallow my vomit. This little girl felt sorry for me in the end and stopped to wait for me at the end of the far right aisle, leaving one sleeve of her huge coat to stick out on purpose. I approached with an awkward smile and glanced at the strange grace she had on her face, with those weird baby hair that can't be caught for nothing in plaits pointing upwards. Despite my awkwardness, the girl stood unworried and expressionless as if I put her on timeout. I asked her name again. She slips away from a second time and runs like the wind, squealing something at lime while zigzagging the aisles.

-You should probably pick it up!

My phone was stabbing my pocket. It was "Mom" yet again, but I really wasn't in the mood for "Mama". I had to pick up my lungs from the floor at the top of my priorities, because this little devil wasn't running but galloping like a damn horse. I finally caught up with her in the aisle with the products of the day and tightly grabbed her by the shoulders. The little devil screamed and was banging her feet in pain. My hands had been too coarse for people after all this time.

-Hey, ma'am, did you get angry? I was just playing with you.

-I'm don't have time to play right now, please go to your mom.

-But I told you, My mom's right here.

"Where is "here"?

With just one finger sticking out of the sleeve, she pointed to the right middle shelf at the end of the aisle. She put her finger before her mouth to stop me from talking and I followed her on tiptoes. When we approached the end of the aisle and my eyes got used to the darkness I saw a woman laid inside the empty shelf. She was in her sixties and wearing an old black nightgown with holes on it. From her short hair down to her nails, there were ice flakes stuck everywhere as if she was just found buried in the snow. Her face with her eyes closed was carrying such an expression of pain and torment. I was so weirded out that something made me want to follow those ice streams that filled her skin's scratches with my fingers, however her body felt so stiff I jumped back. She looked more like a porcelain doll than an actual person.

-Ma'am Olga? Are you alright?

I threw up all the chocolate milk I drank. My body got the chills and my teeth were trembling so much that my breath was coming out in sharp puffs in front of the flickering lights of the refrigerators. I must have look like shit, because I scared the little girl for good and made her get five steps back from me while I was going crazy and trying to clear my eyes from the shock.

-Why is she here?

-Nobody wanted her. Nobody called to take her.

I didn't pay much attention. I pulled out my cherry ericsson to call for help, but the chaotic hum of the phone lines echoed in the aisle before I even put the phone to my ear.

-Who put her here?

She was just staring at me. I asked again and again. She let her lower lip half open. I grabbed her by the shoulders like before and she pulled out a choked scream due to my clumsiness. She started crying and feeling loose in my hands. It was then that I felt like something broke inside me and I crawled away from her because she would pass out in any second just by looking at the state that I was. I sat on the floor watching her wipe her tears from a distance, all while fixing her plaits and stressfully straightening the dress inside her coat. Every now and then she would throw these incoherent excerpts from conversations that seemed weirdly familiar, waiting for me to remember the answers I had given to each of the discussions. I felt sick, like my insides would explode at any moment. My mind was working overtime and I started seeing red. I understood, but I did not want to accept it.

"But how?" I was saying again and again. I can't just live through this stuff. I was thinking that maybe that's it, we are officially past this tomorrow. Maybe that was the end of the world and the time I had at my disposal. Only instead of cloud islands or pits with flames I was stuck inside this supermarket with a little girl and a dead woman. Was this fitting? Not really. It might be considered symbolic, but still not at all subtle. That's why I was stuffed with anger and distress. I couldn't digest what to feel after all that I saw. And what was the meaning of all of this? To make me feel remorse? To help me maybe? But how? So many questions hanging above my head I began to feel like I was melting from the uncertainty. Luckily, the little girl found some courage to pick me up from the floor.

-You still don't recognize her, do you?

-I recognized her just fine the first time.

-Are you sure, ma'am Olga?

-I don't know, what do you say?

-You tell me.

-We have to get out of here, kiddo. We can't get through it like this. Even now, with everything else going to hell with us.

-Do you really want me to come with you?

-I don't know. Maybe I want to, maybe I should.

The phone started screaming again. It was dimming "Mama" with small flakes of ice filling its broken tiny screen. The girl bent down and put this in my palm with no emotion on her face. I answered it. I waited for an eternity so thin you could fit it inside a moment like this. "Hello? Mom?". Eventually the same confusing static noise creaked from the other side of the call, and I stuck there waiting through the buzzing to find her smoker's coughing that she used to do before starting to complain about how I constantly forget about her. Waiting just to tell her that I was here, I was fine, and the world might not end there. Maybe, somewhere, somehow, there's even some future we can fit in it.

-So are we ready now, ma'am Olga?

-Ready for what?

She pointed at the banner hanging from the ceiling.

-Future ready.

I didn't catch my mother's voice at the other end of the line, of course. I hung up and weakly threw the phone on the shelf where the woman was laying, just to hear its dying snout. This felt way more fitting.

-Nah, not really. But it probably does not matter right now.

-But. I'm scared.

-I'm scared too, being in here and all.

-So when will we be back? When everything was normal again?

-"Normal" may no longer exist. We'll just have to see. For now, get up.

-You know better, ma'am.

-Ma'am my ass.

The little girl glanced just once at the self with the phone on and continue to walk with me, with her palm lost and warmed up somewhere inside my own palm. An analog clock on the wall pointed somewhere after nine o clock and the sky was bruised from the clouds that were pouring snow on everything around us. I put my hand with hers in the pocket of the miserable purple coat and lifted our hoods to escape the cold on the way home. I don't really remember how long we walked with our backs hunched over somewhere between the white and the gray. I only recall that we took the long way home, like a punishment of some sorts.

Thinking that I would never hear again the saltiness in my mom's voice was my most bitter torment. I never thought of such a possibility. I always had in the back of my mind that she would find a way to defy any rule of the universe, just so she could care for me. That's science fiction, after all. It seems I was holding on to my illusions for so long, so waking up hurts like hell even today. And if my mom died, I believe she must've left with that pain and concern during her last moments. "Look at me now", I catch myself saying here and there "I avoided her only until I had to mourn her". Until then, the only thing I had on my mind was working on what I should say when I would get asked about her, only to answer that we "fell off" with no emotion. What exactly happened to fall off with her would be like unnecessary little details. Still, to this day, that's exactly what I tell people when it's being brought up. I can't talk about it without sinking in remorse. I can't get the right words to come out anymore, not even by force.

Of course I tried to find her. Especially with the years that were to come upon me, I needed this to have my mind calibrated just to not go crazy over the batshit hysteria that was building up inside of me. Deep down, though, I knew I didn't have the courage to look at past trauma anymore, and I was secretly hoping I would never fine here. Maybe because the end of the world not coming anymore, at least as I thought it would, and now I have to live with it forever. Maybe because the worst that could have happened to me in the end was the postponement of the apocalypse. And this falls heavily on my shoulders to this day. Every day I have to justify why it was worth it to stay behind, either as punishment or by luck, trying to convince myself that there is something left to do with the leftovers of my future.

[fuzziemutt]

What’s a Family to the One Free Man ?

Summary: With some time to rest, Gordon's mind starts to wander. And he realizes that the scene before him is lacking some people... Tw: Dissociation, Panic attacks (please actually make sure the person having a panic attack is okay with being touched prior to doing so btw), This is hurt without true comfort (Gordon has bad coping mechanisms) Notes: This is based on my own post talking about how if Gordon does have a canon niece/nephew then he has a sibling as well and they've been MIA since the Black Mesa incident... (I can’t place this on a timeline exactly, it’s probs breaking canon hl lore timeline but I don’t care, it’s after stasis tho), no ships everything is platonic

Also: Yes I am using John, his wife and his kid Henry in a serious sense here because I didn’t want to create a whole new character for this angst,,, (and again typing this in one go, no edits, lets goooooo) (also also: Gordon is selectively mute based on my experiences) 

----

They had just gotten back from a quick scavenging mission that brought back a couple pieces of old clothes, tech scraps, and health kits along with a couple more bruises and scratches. It wasn’t anything Gordon couldn’t handle at this point; He was just glad to be able to sit down finally especially as his knees were starting to act up again. 

As he slumped himself into a nearby chair, he watched the rag tag team consisting of Eli, Alyx, Issac, Judith and Barney theatrically retell about the “adventure” they just had mere moments ago. Eli, Izzy and Judith had stayed behind while him and the others practically ran around like a bunch of chickens with their heads cut off if the teasing smile on Eli’s face had anything to say about what they saw from the home base. It almost felt quite homey here honestly with the way they joked as if they were a true family and not a group of people constantly fighting for their lives. 

Gordon wasn’t sure what it was exactly that caused it, it honestly could have just been from being tired, but as he watched Alyx and Barney bicker about who dropped the important gizmo she wanted, he slowly felt his consciousness take a step back from the action in front of him. He wanted to take part in the jokes a bit but he couldn’t help how clouded his head seemed to feel watching the two play fight. Something about the scene in front of him was trying to catch on something in the deep recess of his brain. 

He watched through sudden fog, body practically one with the chair underneath him as something finally caught. He was suddenly bombarded with memories and reminders of three specific people that he should have thought about already that he even felt a stab of guilt for forgetting about them for so long.

John, Iliza and Henry Freeman.

Oh god’s resounded in his head as it filled with memories of bickering and play fighting with his older brother not too long ago. And that was the kicker wasn’t it ? It honestly wasn’t too long ago for him. Just a couple weeks ago he was saying bye to his brother on the phone with the sounds of a small toddler babbling his own goodbyes too. 

John had been picking on him for not having visited since his son’s 2nd birthday and for spending too much time working on “boring” “nerd” stuff. Gordon had even actually mentally agreed, a rare moment for him truly, as he decided to talk to his boss about getting some vacation time after the big test the next day to surprise his brother with a visit. He had been practically dancing at the idea of seeing John and his family again after being away for god knows how long.

That was just a couple weeks ago.. he promised to talk to him tomorrow just before he hung up.. That was just 20 years ago now...

20 years.. since he last spoke to his brother.. John and Ili would be in their 50s.. Little Henry in his 20s...

That was if they even survived. 

His breath cut short and his throat squeezed. 

If they survived.

IF. 

Distantly he felt his increasingly strangled pants, the feeling of liquid slide down his cheeks, but he was too far from his head to realize what was happening. He just watched from the ceiling, detached and afraid as his body trembled and reacted to this recovered information. 

How could he have forgotten John, Ili and their kid ? The very kid he made sure to get a day off to visit as soon as possible after the kid was born and at his new home. The very kid John would jokingly tell not to end up as nerdy as his uncle “Gordie”. The very kid who loved playing with his ponytail not a rat tail and was even growing his hair out for due to it. The very kid he swore to protect and always be there for even if the world ended. 

His brother who he’d spend long nights talking nonsense to no matter how young or old or even far away they were. The brother who accepted him when their parents didn’t. The one who used his actual name for the first time without hesitation. The brother that despite his tough guy act and motorcycles, helped him feel safe even in public.

His sister-in-law who would always smile and clap excitedly whenever he got to visit. The sister who would go with him to stores, if John was busy, so he wouldn’t feel so scared and all alone. The sister who was patient with him and how he still sometimes struggled to speak to her even after so much time being part of his family. The sister who created such lovely paintings in her spare time.

And they were gone. 

He didn’t have a clue where they could even possibly be now. If they were alive, could they have come to City 17 ? Were there other cities nearby they could be in ? Could they have managed to escape all those years ago ? So much have changed in the span of 20 years, would they even be the same ? Would John resent him for having disappeared so long ago even if he didn’t choose to ? Would Ili look upon him in disappointment for abandoning them ? Would Henry not even care to recognize his forgotten uncle that cared about him too long ago ?

He didn’t even get to say a proper goodbye...

His head raced with so many unanswered questions, guilt and hopelessness. His family, even if it wasn’t arguably much, was gone and there was nothing he could have done about it. The choices were made for him. 

He had no control.

At some point, he began to notice the feelings of hands on him, someone was mumbling words he couldn’t decipher at all. Suddenly his hands were pressed against another’s chest he was guessing as his senses began to slowly sludge their way back into focus. He tried copying the gentle rising and falling he could acknowledge; his struggling breath slowly following suit as best it could. 

It took what felt like minutes to possibly hours until the feeling of detachment began to subside, the nonsensical words now beginning to register as what they were meant to be. It was mostly someone counting and saying some encouraging phrases. Something must have changed on his face, however, as the voice was now asking him to list what he could see, hear, feel and smell. 

He knew he wouldn’t be able to force himself to speak in such a state, he also hasn’t been able to feel safe enough to do so since that call with John anyways, and with his shaking hands still firmly to the other’s chest, he couldn’t even attempt to sign what was asked of him. So he just began mentally listing as things came to an off-tilted focus. 

He can see his hands, Barney’s hands, Barney’s face, his hetero-chromatic eyes, the scar on his left cheek.

He can hear his words encouraging him, the gentle humming of electronics, the fans of the ac system kicking on, the soft worried murmurs amongst the people behind Barney.

He can feel Barney’s hands around his, the gentle rising and falling of Barney’s chest, the sticky feeling of tears on his own face. 

He could smell the distant stench of rot, the smell of something that was burnt long ago. 

His name was Gordon Freeman, he was 27 years old and he was safe and what was happening was real. Everything was here. Everything was now.

When it seemed Barney was satisfied enough with Gordon’s awareness, he slowly let go of Gordon’s hands and placed them back on his lap. 

“Hey... you with us, bud ?” Barney whispered just barely enough to be heard which Gordon was thankful for as he didn’t think he could take any sudden noises especially with the now present dull thudding behind his eyes. 

All he could do was to slightly nod, forcing his tense muscles to relax before he snapped something. It was then, now that he was forced to be present, that he realized that everyone was in a loose circle around his chair, all with concerned faces. The others weren’t as close as Barney, seemingly to give some semblance of space, but he couldn’t help but feel they were actively holding themselves back from pouncing on him any second. Possibly to even question him as to why he suddenly decided a cry session and panic attack were the best courses of action at the time. 

It was too much, seeing them stare into him almost so hungrily, so filled with pity. He knew they meant well, but he couldn’t do this right now. Not when they were still fighting the revolution. Not when they still needed him to be strong. Not when he was the legendary, resistance “badass” Gordon Freeman who single-handedly killed the Nihilanth arguably a couple weeks 20 years ago.

He stood up, not making any eye contact and shakily signed what he hoped was an apology and him saying how he was going to check on the antlions, but he wasn’t so sure what he was saying or getting across and honestly he didn’t quite much care. Before anyone could object, he quickly weaseled his way between a gap in the circle and sped walked like there was no tomorrow with no further comment. 

When he was alone finally he could go about repressing it all again, his brother, the time gap, his panic and guilt, it all needed to go and needed to go now. He wasn’t going to let those possible deaths hold him back especially with all the blood already staining his hands. It didn’t matter. They needed strong, capable leader Gordon Freeman whether he liked it or not.

What’s a family to the One Free Man anyways ?

[sbwriel-cymraeg]

Eddie Kaspbrak deserved better.

Let me start with this. IT, written by Stephen King, made into a movie in 2017 and then another in 2019, about a clown with a big forehead, who likes dining on children, and gets his ass kicked by a group of teenage misfits (and then again when said misfits are just about past their midlife crisis). It's a horror, it's creepy and it's gross, now you see, I don't do horrors. I'm an absolute wuss. I can't even walk into a creepy abandoned building without a plank of wood in my hand for protection, and at least two people on either side of me who would obviously be kidnapped first (and that gives me enough time to scream and run away). Anyway, I don't like horrors. So you can probably guess that there was no way in hell, or earth, that I would be watching something that involved a terrifying monster who drools as much as a bulldog (he should seriously get that checked). No way I was going to read the book, as much as I love reading, and wouldn't even consider the original from the 90s although the 90s rules the movie scene (don't argue, we all know Jurassic Park is the best movie of all time). But the thing was, I have a friend, and he can be very persuading (in the form of pizza and snacks) and also, I'm a huge McAvoy fan, and James Ransone, I've never seen that guy before but well, when I saw him in the trailer, hello handsome. And don't get me started on Bill Hader, man do I fancy that bloke... Anyway I'm going off topic. So blah blah, we end up sitting down one night, with our buffet and many cups of tea, and weirdly, we start watching IT Chapter 2 first, because he wanted to see it since it was new. I go into it with no bloody clue what was going on, who was who, why parents would let their kid out in the rain by themselves, or how nobody noticed a load of bodies leaking out of the sewer. I was asking alot of questions. But, here's the thing. Onto the whole point of this rant. Eddie Kaspbrak. Eddie Spaghetti. Eds. The cute, little, angry man who instantly caught my attention (not just by the fact that Mr Ransone is a handsome S.O.B). From the moment he sped down the road in his posh jeep, yelling at other drivers (I feel your pain Eds) to crashing said posh jeep because he was distracted by a phone call (bad Eddie!) He instantly stole my 28 year old, attracted to dark and handsome older men, heart. Of course, I had no clue about these characters, all I saw was cute, angry man, funny dork with glasses, red headed lady, that guy from New Zealand, man who lasted five seconds, handsome librarian, and Professor X, and of course that clown that lives in the drain. So, as the movie went on, Eddie became my number one (Richie following behind in second). I learnt all about him from my friend, and more about him during the film, and couldn't help but feel sorry for the little bastard. He had a wife that I could tell he didn't love who treated him like doodoo, as a kid his dearest mom was overprotective, controlling and gave him freaking placebos to make him think he was ill (the fuck Mrs K?), that made him so nervous about getting sick and paranoid beyond belief, and I mean, his job wasn't the most exciting. Not to mention he has anxiety worse than a nun in a whore house, and was obviously afraid the most out of the group. And then, AND THEN, the film decides to drop some hints about Richie. Ah, dearest Richie, who has perfect taste in men. He's in love with Eddie. In. Freaking. Love with him. You could tell by the way he was so protective of him, constantly made fun of him (we all know that's how dudes get their crushes attention) and of course, R + E. So, of course, nearing the end of the movie, there's me grinning like an idiot, having the thought of Eddie and Richie getting out of the final fight untouched, Richie declaring his undying love for his Eddie Spaghetti, Eddie admitting his feelings for his Trashmouth, getting a kiss in there, Eds declaring he was divorcing him moth- sorry, wife, and the two walking into the sunset to start a new life together, in a nice cottage in the hills, getting married, having three kids, five dogs, ten cats, and living happily ever after. But then, my hopes and dreams were shattered. Stephen, I'm looking at you. They killed Eddie. THEY KILLED EDDIE! EDDIE! Out of all the FREAKING characters they could have booted off, they chose Eddie the rage monster, the little man with a big personality, the least deserving to freaking die in my opinion. Stephen, how could you? How could you?! Why did he have to die? Why did they have to end his life that way? Why couldn't he have a happy ending like the rest of the Losers? Not including Richie of course. Oh no, they didn't just fuck Eddie over, they also fucked over Richie. Killing the love of his life, right after he saves him, bleeding all over his big ass glasses, calling his name softly, looking at him with his big, brown eyes. Yep, Richie probably went home after the Kissing Bridge and thought about Eddie every damn day of his life. But no, they didn't just kill Eddie, oh no no, they went a step further. They left his body to rot in the sewers. Yes Andy, I'm glaring at you, you evil, evil man. They didn't take the route that Mr King took in his book, or from the original IT movie (yes I watched that later on too) no, Mr A decided to have Eddie die all alone whilst the Losers finished off Pennywise, then have Richie go back and see his dead body, freak out and have hope that they can save him, hug him tight, and not let him go. And then, oh boy, and then, they have Mike and Ben literally FORCE Richie off of Eddie, and DRAG him out of the sewers. WITHOUT EDDIE. I'm sorry Mr Andy, but tell me, how could they, Eddie's best friends, the ones who were always there for him, who they loved and adored, leave Eddie there in the sewers, all alone, in the dark, dirty, graveyard that would have had Eddie crying at the thought? It didn't make ANY sense to me. If Ben and Mike had the strength to drag a struggling, six foot something Richie away from Eddie, then surely they could have picked Eddie up between them, and got him out of there. If I was Richie, I would have decked the lot of them, Losers or not. And that's where I got pretty darn mad. Eddie didn't deserve that shit. For one, he didn't deserve to die. And two, he didn't deserve to be left down there, to slowly decay. He should have been pulled out by his friends, Richie could have had a moment with him, Eddie could have been given a funeral where his friends, and especially Richie could have said goodbye. Then, they'd have had somewere where they could memorialise him, go back and place flowers and silly things like inhalers and red shorts on his headstone, have a get together and remember him and talk to him, somewhere where Richie could always go to, knowing that Eddie was put to rest properly, and somewhere were he could sit and cry to himself, remembering all the fucking good times they had as kids and how god damn hard he fell for the crazy little shit. But, nah, we'll just leave him in the sewers, under a collapsed house, somewhere the Losers wouldn't want to visit again, somewhere they can't have a funeral, can't put Eddie to rest, somewhere that has too many bad memories and would remind everyone of how exactly Eddie lost his life. So yeah, you can say I'm pretty mad about all of that. I know he's a fictional character, but damn, he didn't deserve that shit. Neither did Richie. And to make it worse, when I watched the first movie afterwards, Eddie was just as freaking hilarious, and ridiculous as his older self. Little Eddie was a force to be reckoned with, he was definitely still my favourite even as a kid. The dude who played him, huge kudos to him. How could you not like tiny Eddie? It also showed me a lot more about how Eddie grew up, by that I mean how his mother really did treat him, and boy did I hate the fact that he died even more! So yeah, I may have gone off on one a tad... I couldn't help myself, Eddie Kaspbrak has now got a big place in the fictional character side of my heart. Just goes to show just how much actors can make an impact on people's lives, and how real they make them seem! So, I've said my part, and it's pretty obvious what I think about the ending to Mr Spaghetti's story. Encase you didn't get how I feel about it, it sucked. Eddie Kaspbrak should have lived. Should have had a second chance, especially with Richie! Not all movies follow the ending of books, so why did this one have to? Why did Ben and Redhead get to have a happily ever after and Richie and Eddie didn't? Why didn't they at least make his death meaningful and give him the send off he deserved? In other words, Eddie deserved better. That should be the motto of the movie. That's me signing off, I'm going to go be mad somewhere else, because I'll never get over this movie. I'm a huge fan now, but man, the ending was as bad as Bill's endings. Oh and uh, fuck you Pennywise. Oh, also, if anyone's going to Wales Comic con this Saturday (you should, because James Ransone will be there, I know right, what are the chances?) come say hi. I'll be dressed in a yellow raincoat and green wellies, holding a red balloon... Don't ask why, I just like the colours. See you later, Losers.

[aresaphrodites]

My take on what I would have liked to see happen with Billy. Or something like it at least. I have literally never written anything for Billy OR Stranger Things, so like... don’t kill me. :’) 

.

.

Billy Hargrove dies on July 4th. 

He’s sure there’s a joke somewhere there, something about dying for his country or whatever, but he doesn’t make it. Partly because he can’t talk or even move. Partly because he’s too scared to laugh even if he could. 

There are fireworks going off as the last tentacle from the monster drives itself through his chest. Maybe that’s some kind of poetic justice for all the horrible shit he’s done. 

He’d never given any thought to dying, never really pictured it ever happening to him, which is maybe a little absurd considering the way his life had currently been going. But still, whatever he’d thought, dying to protect a little girl who he didn’t even know was not at the top of the list. Hell, it wasn’t even on the list. Yet that’s what had happened. He wonders if maybe that gives him some points. Although he hadn’t been looking for points when he’d done it. 

He doesn’t know exactly why he did it, but he does know that she reached out and touched his cheek and for the first time in years, he felt comforted. She looked at him like he wasn’t a monster, like she wasn’t scared of him. She looked at him like he mattered, like she cared about him. He couldn’t let her die; he wouldn’t. 

So he didn’t. 

He’s dead before he hits the ground. He’s dead before Max crouches over him, yelling and begging for him to wake up. He’s dead before the first tear she lets fall hits his chest. He’s dead before the other kids even realize it. 

He’s dead before they can call him a hero. 

.

.

.

He’s not on the beach anymore. He doesn’t know what life after death is supposed to be like, but he wasn’t quite expecting this. Darkness surrounds him. He can’t see anything at all and it’s fucking terrifying. He’s spent so much time being scared lately; he wishes he didn’t have to feel scared even in death. 

He wasn’t exactly expecting heaven, not after everything he’d done in his lifetime, so maybe this is hell. It’s not really what he pictured hell to be like, but then again, he’s alone in the dark and maybe that’s what hell is. Makes sense. 

‘I wish it wasn’t you.’

He whirls around at the voice, trying to see the person it came from, but his eyes are met with nothing but darkness. It’s okay, he doesn’t need to see. He knows who that voice belongs to. It had been the last thing he heard before he died. He would never forget it; could never forget it. 

“Max?”

‘It shouldn’t have been you.’ 

“Max!” He yells out, louder this time. But she doesn’t answer him. The only thing he hears is the sound of his voice echoing around him until it fades away and then he’s alone again. 

“Max,” he whispers to himself, voice breaking. He doesn’t want to cry anymore. He’s cried so much already, but he’s scared. He’s still the scared boy he’d been before he died. He hadn’t been scared when he stood up to the monster and yelled at it, when he died for the girl. He’d been sure and ready. He hoped that he’d finally stop feeling scared in death. Guess guys like him don’t get what they want, even in the afterlife. 

What is he supposed to do? Does he just sit here for eternity and stare into this black abyss? The thought sends a chill down his spine. 

‘Careful!’ 

The voice comes out of nowhere just as Billy feels a sharp jab in his side. What the hell? 

‘He is valuable…. The only one…. Soldier…. Alive.’

Billy frowns at the words. Who is talking? Whose voice is that? He doesn’t know it. 

Before he can try to figure it out, he falls asleep. 

.

.

.

‘We have to do something!’

The voice startles him for two reasons. One, it comes out of nowhere, although maybe he should just get used to that. Two, it belongs to Steve Harrington. 

“Steve?” He whispers. He’s so tired of yelling. 

‘Do something!’

‘He’s dead, Steve. Stop.’ 

‘We can’t let him die. He saved us! He saved the world, we can’t let him die!’ 

‘He was dead before he hit the ground.’ 

‘Bring him back. You can bring him back. Please.’ 

‘I can’t. I’m sorry.’ 

He knows that voice. It belongs to the girl who saved him. She sounds so sad, like she’s crying and Billy wants to tell her to stop. She shouldn’t cry. He doesn’t regret doing what he did.

‘Yes, you can!’ 

Steve’s voice is raising now in a way that Billy has never heard it before. He doesn’t want to hear it anymore. He shakes his head, trying to get rid of it. Why does Steve sound like that? Why does he sound like he cares? 

‘Please, bring him back.’ His voice cracks and Billy puts his hands to his ears and presses them down as hard as they can go. 

‘She can’t bring back the dead, Steve. No one can.’ 

‘We can’t let him die!’ 

Billy screams this time. He screams as loud and as long as he can until his throat is raw and he starts coughing. 

When he stops, he can’t hear Steve’s voice anymore. He doesn’t know if he’s happy or upset over that fact. 

He doesn’t know how long he’s been here, in this black abyss. He’s walked and walked and walked and the darkness never seems to end. He used to cry, but he doesn’t anymore. What is there to cry about? He did this to himself after all. Maybe this is his punishment for how he acted all his life. He wouldn’t change it though; dying. He would die a million times if it meant he could save the girl who saved him. He wishes he could tell her just how she saved him in the end. He hopes that she knows. 

He’s walking for what seems like hours whenever that wave of dizziness comes over him again. It happens every so often and he knows what’s about to happen now. 

He closes his eyes and sleeps. 

.

.

. 

‘Why would he do that?’ 

It’s Wheeler’s voice now; Nancy’s, not her weirdo brother’s. Billy squeezes his eyes shut. He doesn’t want to hear her voice. 

‘He was lost.’ It’s the girl. What is her name? 

‘He wasn’t all bad.’ Max. Her voice is shaky and unsure, like she doesn’t even believe the words she’s saying. It makes Billy want to cry. ‘He had his moments.’ 

‘He just needed a friend. He needed someone to love him.’ 

Billy’s lip wobbles and he shakes his head. Was he so weak? Was his father right all along? 

‘He made it impossible to love him.’ 

‘No. Just hard; not impossible. Everyone deserves to be loved.’ 

“Shut up!” He roars. “Stop! Shut up!” 

And they do. The voices disappear and he’s all alone again. Are these memories? They have to be. He’s going to be haunted by the words they said as his body laid to rot on the cold floor of the mall. He can’t think of a worse hell. 

He sits down and brings his knees up to his chest as he puts his head down. He wraps his arms around his legs and takes a deep breath. What kind of hell is this? Was this really how he was doomed to spend all of eternity? He would go mad. He can’t do this. He’s already starting to feel like he’s going crazy. 

Suddenly he hears a new voice. It’s deep and rough and speaking in a language he doesn’t know. He startles at it and strains to understand what it’s saying. It doesn’t sound far away and floaty like the other voices do. It sounds like it’s right behind him. 

“Who’s there?” He questions, even though he knows that he’ll never get an answer. 

The voice keeps talking, and another one joins in and he hops up from his spot on the floor, suddenly alert. 

“Hello?” But no one answers. 

Before he can actually start to lose his shit, there’s a sharp pain in his arm and he screams before the dizzy feeling comes back to him. And then he sleeps. 

.

.

.

Has it been hours? Days? Months? Years? Where is he? What’s happening? 

He’s starting to forget things; people, places, moments in time. He doesn’t understand what’s happening to him. He repeats his name to himself constantly throughout the day, forcing himself to remember. He names important people and things to himself, but it’s getting harder and harder to remember. 

“I am Billy Hargrove. My sister is Max Mayfield. I died on July 4th. I saved that girl. I was horrible. I was good. Max. Steve Harrington. Tommy. Carol. Mom.” 

“I am Billy Hargrove. My sister is Max…. Mayfield. I was horrible. I was… good. I died on…. I died on July 4th. Max. Steve Harrington. Tommy. Carol. Mom.” 

“Billy…. Billy Hargrove. Max. Steve… Harrington. Tommy. I... died.” 

“My name is….” 

“I am dead.” 

.

.

.

He opens his eyes and the darkness is gone. He is met with the brightest light he has ever seen. It’s blinding and he closes his eyes and blinks rapidly, trying to adjust to the sudden change. Everything is blurry and he can’t see in front of himself. 

He feels someone reach out to press a hand to his arm and he jumps up, suddenly more alert than he’s ever been. He reaches out and grabs them by the throat. He can’t see their face properly, everything is still fuzzy, but it doesn’t matter. He squeezes and lifts them off the ground and doesn’t let go until he hears a crack under his palm. 

As the body hits the floor, there’s a sound of laughter from the other side of him. 

“Incredible,” a man says in awe. “The monster lives on inside of him.” 

“It’s what kept him alive.” The voice has a deep accent to it that he can’t place and it’s hard to understand what he’s saying. It’s hard to understand any of this. 

He blinks some more until finally he can see again. He doesn’t know where he is. Who are these people? What is this place? 

A man with all white hair smiles at him and crouches down to his eye level. 

“Hello.” He doesn’t have an accent. “Do you know who you are?” 

He pauses. Shakes his head. 

“Excellent. My name is Dr. Brenner and your name is Fifteen.” 

He licks his lips and opens his mouth a few times before he can finally say the words. 

“Fifteen.” 

On July 4th, Billy Hargrove dies. 

On August 1st, Fifteen wakes up. 

[welllpthisishappening]

The Period of the Long Change (9/15)

It’s quick. One second she’s standing there and everything is fine and then Emma looks up and it’s not. It’s awful. And the lights are too bright and there are too many rooms and too many opinions and her phone won’t stop ringing because everything seems to be changing all at once. She’s never been great at coping with change. But, maybe, if she can just figure it out and stay right where she is, with Killian Jones, captain of the New York Rangers, at her side, it’ll be alright.

It’s slow. One second he’s standing there and everything is fine and then Killian’s breath catches and it’s not. It’s terrifying. And the noises are too loud and there are too many questions and he can’t find the right answers to any of them, not sure how to cope with everything changing all at once. That’s never really been his forte. But, maybe, if he can just figure it out and stay right where he is, with Emma Swan, director of New York Rangers community relations, at his side, it’ll be alright.

It’s another season and another challenge and Emma and Killian are both struggling to get over the boards.

Rating: Mature Word Count: Honestly every chapter here is like 8K and change.  AN: Is it a fic I wrote if my characters aren’t, at some point, eating Shake Shack? Probably not. Thanks for sticking with this one still, guys. It’s the best. You’re the best. Here’s some public displays of true love for your efforts. 

Also on Ao3 and FF.net and Tumblr if that’s your jam.

“You’ve been ignoring my calls again.” Emma tried not to sigh, she did, but the noise seemed to fall out of her and Merida winced from the doorway. “That’s not true, Tink,” she mumbled. It was an awful lie. The words felt like they were rotting her tongue or something far less disgusting.

God, that was an awful thought.

That had kind of been the trend for the last seventy-two hours though and Emma was, totally, ignoring the four messages Tink had left Merida in those same seventy-two hours and that just seemed like a kind of aggressive sell.

She was supposed to have until the end of the month.

She didn’t have to worry about this yet.

Not when she had so much else to worry about.

Maybe she shouldn’t have let Killian watch Peggy before his presser that afternoon. His ribs were still kind of bruised when she’d changed the ACE bandage that morning and Ariel’s expression had been nothing short of incredulous when Emma asked, demanded, to learn how to do it.

She figured it wasn’t much more than twisting and turning, but those twists and turns were unexpectedly difficult and that was kind of a trend too.

Emma wished her goddamn mind would shut up.

And she knew Killian wanted to watch Peggy for the same reasons Emma had taken Peggy out of daycare that one day and she couldn’t really argue when he started making faces at her, letting her fingers grip his and tug on the front of his shirt and he was supposed to bring her to the Garden before the presser anyway.

It was fine.

It was all fine.

It was...hopefully fine.

The rest of the season and maybe more.

Emma couldn’t breathe.

“Boss,” Merida muttered, nodding towards the phone Emma was still, somehow, holding and Tink was still, somehow, talking. Emma wasn’t entirely sure how she was still standing. Her whole body felt heavy and exhausted and Aurora had apologized for the banner incident, but she had no fewer than eight-thousand questions about Phillip’s ceremony the next night and it really was not that complex.

It shouldn’t have been that complex.

Emma needed to sit in a dark room with absolutely no noise and no hockey and no errant thoughts for the rest of the afternoon.

She didn’t have time.

Tink was still babbling in her ear.

“You might want to at least acknowledge that you’re still on the phone,” Merida suggested, taking a step into the office and there was no longer enough room for two people. “Here,” she added, dropping a plastic container on the few inches of desk left and Emma couldn’t quite believe she flinched at, what she assumed, was a salad from Prep.

“What is this?” she asked softly, doing her best not to talk into the phone. Tink wasn’t babbling anymore. She was rambling. Loudly.

Emma was supposed to have until the end of the month.

Fine fine fine fine fine.

“It’s food, boss,” Merida grinned. She shook her hair off her shoulders, the bags under her eyes visible and they just had to get through the rest of the week. Phillip’s ceremony would last fifteen minutes, tops, he and Aurora would stand on the ice and they still needed to get his dad a jersey, but he wasn’t getting into the city until later that night and there was, apparently, some kind of ridiculous snow storm in Québec City so that was another thing. There was a list for all of it somewhere.

Probably under the salad.

“Did we ever find out if Rook’s mom was coming to this?” Emma whispered, and Tink hadn’t taken a breath in years. That couldn’t have been healthy.

Merida shook her head. “Aurora said she was trying to get in touch, but it keeps going to voicemail.” “And we’ve got no other way to contact this woman? Where does she even live?” “Phillip said Montréal. Maybe.” “Maybe?”

Merida’s eyes widened in warning when Emma’s voice hitched and Tink stopped talking rather abruptly. Emma winced. “Am I interrupting you, Emma?” Tink asked, and Emma bit back her immediate yes, constantly because she hadn’t been lying before.

She kind of wanted this job.

Or thought she could want this job. Or, at least, consider the possibility of this job.

But then she thought about the travel and what might happen if – when – Killian came back next season and she’d waited so long for all of this, was so goddamn happy when things weren’t so goddamn stressful and even, sometimes, when they were and Merida kept trying to force feed her slightly shitty salads that weren’t as good when she wasn’t pregnant.

And Emma knew it was because Killian kept texting her to remind her.

She didn’t really want to go to the presser later. She didn’t want to cry in public like that. That would have been embarrassing.

“Emma,” Tink said lightly, but there was an edge there that made it almost too obvious that the end of the month wasn’t quite as honest as it probably should have been.

“I’m here,” Emma promised, rolling her eyes when Merida snickered under her breath. “And I haven’t really been ignoring your calls. I’ve just been incredibly busy.” “Dealing with injuries?” Emma inhaled, teeth digging into her lower lip. Merida’s eyes looked like they were going to fall out of her head. “No,” Emma said. “And, quite frankly, that’s not any of your business.” Merida’s face was going to get stuck like that.

Emma waved an impatient hand through the air, nearly knocking over the half-finished travel mug of coffee she’d brought with her that morning. Merida didn’t move. Her mouth didn’t close either, just kept hanging open with a look that was stuck somewhere between stunned and impressed and they needed to track down Phillip’s mother.

She couldn’t just show on the ice the next night.

That’d ruin the entire ceremony and Aurora would never let Emma hear the end of it.

“Professional,” Merida mumbled, perching on the edge of Emma’s desk and her hair nearly brushed over the travel mug.

Emma really needed to move that.

She shrugged, twisting her lips and trying not to laugh like an absolutely crazy person because she was almost entirely convinced that’s what she was at this point and she was more or less waiting for Zelena to arrive at any moment and demand another meeting.

“Phillip really doesn’t know where his mom is?” Emma asked softly, leaning away from the phone like that would make sure her voice didn’t carry. Merida shook her head. “How is that possible? Where is he even?” “I think Ruby has him answering questions for several different features so we can try and distract from--” She cut herself off, the muscles in her throat moving when she swallowed down the words and Emma’s heart promptly fell out of her body, landed on her covered-with-paperwork rug and immediate shattered into several thousand pieces.

At least.

She wished she’d brought Peggy with her to work.

She wished Killian had brought Peggy to work. And talked to her. Preferably before he beat up some AHL asshole who didn’t even get suspended.

“He got fined,” Merida said, like that made a difference and Emma wasn’t aware that Killian was going to get fined too. Or maybe already had. She hadn’t really talked to Regina. She was too busy tracking down Phillip’s relatives.

Emma didn’t make a noise, just kept twisting her lips and nodding until she almost fell into a rhythm. Merida’s expression shifted, a little softer and a bit more understanding and she’d probably fly to Montréal to find Phillip’s mom sooner rather than later.

Maybe after she made sure Emma ate the salad from Pret.

“Actually,” Tink said archly, and Emma had almost forgotten she was still on the phone. She was becoming a professional in ignoring. That probably wasn’t a talent she could put on her résumé. The league wouldn’t appreciate that. “That’s something that’s exactly my business.” Emma’s eyes flashed to Merida, a wry smile on her face as she pushed a plastic fork towards her. “How do you figure?”

“If he wasn’t hurt he’d likely have been suspended for several games, you know that, right?” “Obviously.” “And the fine will be fairly sizable. We can’t afford to have a name like that attacking teammates.” “Ok, you know that’s not even remotely what it was.” “Was it not?” Tink countered. “From all accounts, Husinger simply expressed his opinion in the newspaper.” “He said he was glad that Killian got hurt,” Emma yelled, and there went the travel mug. She gritted her teeth, jumping up and squeezing her eyes shut as Merida mumbled promises that it would be fine, but those very specific words had lost all meaning in the last few weeks and Emma was worried she was going to snap her phone in half.

Or do permanent damage to her hand.

“That’s not what he said, Emma, and you know it,” Tink said. Her voice had leveled out again, a picture of professionalism from Toronto and maybe she knew where Phillip’s mom was and if she was planning on coming to the Garden on Wednesday night and if she had a jersey or not.

They all had to wear jerseys.

Zelena had been adamant about that.

“I really don’t care,” Emma muttered. She knew it was petty. She knew it was immature. She knew it was goddamn unprofessional and she wanted this job, but she couldn’t get those few sentences out of her brain or her mind and she really did not want to go to this presser.

Merida smiled at her, ducking into her eye line because she’d never sat back down, but she wasn’t really staying still either. Matt probably got that from her.

“I’ll ask Phillip about his mom again,” Merida promised. “And talk to Aurora.” Emma shook her head, but she’d seen that look before and she was fighting a very noble and losing battle. “You don’t have to do that,” she mumbled, ignoring Tink’s return to babble.

They hadn’t cleaned up the coffee yet.

It was staining the carpet. And several stacks of papers.

“Aurora definitely knows,” Merida shrugged. “She’s just been worried about the ice--”

“--The ice?” “She doesn’t really have good balance. I guess she’s worried about falling over and ruining the ceremony or something.” “She realizes that there’ll be carpet, right? She doesn’t actually have to step on the ice?” “I really don’t think she knows that, no. And if she does, then I don’t think she cares. But she’s mentioned it, like, sixteen times and sent an e-mail about it.” “Did I get that?”

Merida flushed, making it difficult to see where her hair stopped and her face started and Emma’s laugh bubbled out of her. Tink sighed in her ear. “I will answer you in a second, Tink, honestly,” Emma said, but the guarantee was still a bit of a lie and she needed to ask Ruby for links to those stories about Phillip. They could send them to season tickets.

That’d be another good distraction.

For her and the season tickets.

“Mer,” Emma said, dragging out the name until it felt a bit like an accusation. The flush get deeper. Redder. She wasn’t going to be specific about the adjectives. “Are you filtering my e-mails? Is that what’s going on?” “Not in, like, a menacing way,” Merida muttered.

“Is there a menacing way to do that?” “I mean, probably.” “So how are you doing it then?” “In a way that I know you’re stressed and ignoring…” She nodded towards the phone, and, that time, it was Emma’s turn to flush. She chewed on her lip. “That,” Merida continued. “And everything that’s been going on with Cap and Phillip’s disappearing mother and how insanely annoying Aurora’s been about all of this and, well, it might be a great job, but…” “But?” Emma pressed. She put the phone down on her desk, ignoring the way Merida’s eyebrows jumped.

It took a moment for Merida to answer, but once the words started they never seemed to stop and Emma wondered how long she’d been holding it all in.

Probably two weeks and three days.

Emma was a little worried about the state of her heart. It might have still been sitting on the floor.

“But,” Merida repeated. “This is your team as much as it is Cap’s and I know how much this whole thing has messed with your head and you’ve been working your ass off for Casino Night and some ridiculous points ceremony that Phillip doesn’t even want because the spotlight freaks him out and he only agreed to all those features so it’d distract from everything else and probably because Rubes threatened him.” “She didn’t have to do that.” “Aw, c’mon, boss, don’t be that dense. Of course she did. This whole roster would do it. In a heartbeat or an instant or whatever the shortest measure of time is.” “Instant probably works.” “Then that,” Merida smiled. “And I know it’s the whole league and you’d still be in New York, but…” She sighed, huffing out air that felt especially thick and Emma was crying in public again. Kind of. She wasn’t sure what her office counted as. “It’s your team too, boss,” she repeated.

Emma’s heart thumped painfully in her chest.

She wasn’t sure when it got back there, but the specifics weren’t important and she picked up the phone. She could almost hear Tink’s frustration.

Which, honestly, was pretty impressive since she’d never seen Tink in person.

“I don’t have an answer for you right now, Tink,” Emma said, trying to keep the professional in her voice. Merida nodded encouragingly. “You told me that I had until the end of the month and you’re right. There’s some stuff going on here that I didn’t entirely expect and am dealing with, so if you’ve given me a deadline then I think it’s only fair you stick to that.”

Tink hummed, displeasure obvious in the sound and that was only kind of obnoxious. Emma’s head jerked up when she heard footsteps moving towards her office, willing it not be Zelena or, God help her, Aurora.

Unless she knew where Phillip’s goddamn mother was.

It wasn’t either of them.

And she didn’t expect to see David standing in her open doorway, two bags of food in his hands and the fluorescent light of the hallway glinting off the badge on his hip.

Merida practically beamed.

“What are you doing here?” Emma asked. Tink might have growled at her.

He shrugged and grinned, taking a cautious step into the room and she was immediately hit with the distinct smell of grease and processed cheese and he was playing dirty. “Was in the neighborhood,” David said. “How do you move in here without killing yourself?” “It’s a very specific type of dance.” “Let the record show I’m not going to make a comment on that because I know you’re absurdly stressed out. And also not eating. So I’m going to go ahead and believe that’s the reason for whatever your face is doing.”

“My face is fine.” “You should probably tell that to your face.”

Merida laughed again, pulling her lips behind her teeth to stop herself and Emma rolled her eyes. She wasn’t done with Tink.

“Still there?” she asked.

“The whole time,” Tink hissed.

Emma took a deep breath through her teeth, pulling in the air slowly like she was worried anything more would do damage to her lungs. “Of course,” she said. “You gave me the end of the month to think about it. I’ve still got a job to do here with this team, you have to understand that, don’t you?” “Of course.” “Then I think it’s only fair we stick to the deadline. I don’t think you want me making this choice without actually thinking about it, do you?” “Oh that was good,” David mumbled, finding a spot on the floor and sitting cross-legged as he pulled out far too many wax-paper-covered cheeseburgers and what appeared to be three milkshakes. “I couldn’t not get one for Mer,” he explained. “God, who do you think I am, Em?”

Emma nodded, smile tugging at the ends of her mouth and some her anger disappearing and Tink had said something.

“Of course I don’t,” Tink responded, answering a question Emma almost forgot she’d asked. “I want you to want this job, Emma. The league wants you to want this job. But if we’re second on your list, then, frankly, that won’t be good enough.” “That’s not what I said.” “Then it won’t be hard to tell me which way you’re leaning. There are other names and other people who’d check each other to get this position.” “Did you just make a hockey joke out of this?” “Occupational hazard.” Emma scoffed. She was never going to eat that salad from Pret. Merida wouldn’t mind. It looked like they’d put avocado on it anyway. “Of course,” Emma said. “Listen. I have no idea. And I don’t know that I’ll have an idea before the end of the month. Or, at least, until after I get through today and tomorrow and Casino Night. I’ve got a team to worry about still, Tink, and it’s...well, it’s my team and my home and I’m not going to stop that. Even with an incredible job opportunity. So either you can accept my indecisiveness right now or you can keep getting your calls ignored because my assistant is trying to preserve my mental stability.”

It was supposed to be a joke, so she appreciated the laugh she got from Toronto, but Emma’s chest still felt tight and her heart wasn’t beating regularly and she hoped David didn’t want any of those cheese fries because she was going to eat all of them.

Shake Shack cheese fries almost made her care less about onion rings.

They were probably magical.

Or incredibly fried.

“I suppose that’s fair,” Tink said. “I’d rather not be at fault for ruining your mental stability.” “A fact I really do appreciate.”

“It’s got to be the end of the month, Emma. They want to make a move. They want you, but they won’t wait.” “I’ll be honest and tell you that this eponymous they is kind of freaking me out.” “Yeah, well, welcome to the league offices, I suppose.”

“Are they always this menacing?” “Constantly,” Tink admitted. “I hope your husband’s press conference goes well today. I know New York media can be ruthless.” Emma nodded, leaning forward to grab a fry when David offered her the container and he grinned at whatever face she made. “We’re kind of used to that now, actually,” she muttered. “Face of the team or something.” “Face of the league, actually. You might want to remind him of that before he starts punching AHL kids with absurd egos at practice again.” “Noted.” “The end of the month, Emma.”

Tink hung up before she could answer – a habit that was only slightly annoying and Emma had to try and make sure she didn’t get processed cheese under her nails. David was still sitting on her floor. “Mer, I’m probably not going to eat this salad,” Emma admitted, working another laugh out of her and a bigger smile out of David and he’d totally blown off his lunch hour.

“Yeah, I kind of figured that,” Merida muttered, grabbing the plastic container and dumping it unceremoniously in the garbage. “They totally fucked up the avocados anyway.” “How do they keep doing that?” “Pret is the worst.” “A very quick judgment,” David mumbled through a bite of cheeseburger. Emma gaped at him.

“You couldn’t wait two seconds?” “You were on the phone and glaring at open air and I’m starving. I’m here to feed you and also check on your mental stability or whatever you told whoever you were talking to, but I’m not going to miss out on Shake Shack either.” “Did you actually go to Shake Shack?” “Was that not obvious?” “The one on 42nd?” David shook his head. “The one on Broadway. God, Emma, be more aware of your closest Shake Shack.” “I’ve had some other things on my mind, you know. I just yelled at a very important league worker about those things.” “Eh,” Merida countered. “It wasn’t really yelling. It was, like, a very specific type of discussion. Forceful, sure. But certainly not yelling. Your voice didn’t get any louder.” “That’s true,” David agreed. “Totally monotone.” “Is that a good thing?” Emma asked.

“Probably not. Why do you think I brought the Shake Shack?” “There’s really a Shake Shack on Broadway” “For, like, at least a year,” David said, amusement flashing in his eyes and Emma didn’t know if she appreciated that or not. She ate more french fries.

“No way, really?" David nodded, wide-eyed and smiling. Merida laughed behind her hand. “There’s no reason to be rude about it. I don’t really go that far east.” “It’s a block away, Em.” She groaned, an objection without voicing it and he must have rearranged his lunch hour. “You just going to stay up there or you going to come hang out on the floor where, clearly, the cooler people are?”

“It’s just you down there.” “I don’t think I need to repeat myself.”

“You’re far too certain of your own coolness,” Emma muttered, but she pushed out of her chair and moved several piles of papers, resting her chin on her tugged-up knees. David did something ridiculous with his eyebrows, a pretty God awful attempt to imitate Killian that he didn’t even try to mask.

“See if I tell you about the cookies Mary Margaret made that are possibly in the bag behind you.” “Possibly? And I think you just did.” “It’s all part of my interrogation technique. Lull you into a false sense of security.” “And then do what, exactly?” “Make sure you’re ok,” David said easily, but there was a note of sincerity in his voice that made Emma blink a few times and Merida was suspiciously quiet. She’d cleaned up the coffee without Emma noticing.

And probably took her phone.

She hoped she took her phone.

“I’ll tell Rubes to find you later, boss,” Merida announced, grabbing the travel mug like she was going to go wash it or something equally absurd. That was absolutely what she was going to do. Emma tried not to cry on her office floor.

It didn’t really work.

“I can do that,” she argued, but Merida was already shaking her head and David was trying to force a cheeseburger into Emma’s hand. “God, how many of these did you order?” “Too many, honestly,” he admitted. “I think the lady behind the counter thought I was nuts when I went to pick them up.” “You ordered ahead at Shake Shack? Can you do that or did you badge-flash?” “First of all, it’s weird that you used that as a verb. And second of all, obviously or this wouldn’t have been possible. I really don’t have time to stand in line all day.” “But you’ve got time for whatever this is?”

“A quest, Em, obviously.” “Oh, obviously,” she grumbled, Merida trying to walk out the door without anyone noticing. “Hey,” Emma called. “You really don’t have to find Rubes later. I can do it. But maybe we can track down Phillip’s parents and tell Aurora not to worry about falling over? Or get her to practice after the walk-through finishes today.” “There’s no walk-through,” Merida said quickly, breath catching when she realized what she said. Emma blinked.

“What? Why not? We are playing a game tomorrow, right?” “It’d make that ceremony really difficult otherwise.” “So why no walk-through? Arthur couldn’t have been happy about that.” Merida wavered, rocking back and forth slightly and she kind of looked like Peggy working to keep her balance. She hadn’t weebled in days. Emma hoped that wasn’t a sign. And knew that wasn’t a verb.

“Mer,” David cautioned, but he snapped his mouth shut when Emma turned on him. He was still holding a goddamn cheeseburger. “Don’t try and turn me to stone, Em, you’re not as good as Regina is at that.” “Yeah, well, I’m not entirely sure Regina isn’t magical, so that doesn’t count at all.”

Merida froze, meeting Emma’s gaze when she jerked back around and lifted her eyebrows, not bothering to ask the question. “I don’t think you’re the only one getting quest’ed, boss,” she whispered. “Although David’s kind of more impressive, since he’s working on his own.” “Mary Margaret’s still in school,” David reasoned.

“And Ruby mentioned she’d try and get here before the presser, but she thinks Cap is going to be late, so…” “Why would Killian be late?” Emma asked sharply.

“Was that not obvious? I thought you’d get there without needing more context clues.” Emma rolled her eyes. “I don’t, really. But I just...God, you guys are all stupid, you know that? Without any concept of proper relationship lines.”

She wished she’d gotten more venom in her insult, but it wasn’t really an insult and both David and Merida knew it. And Mary Margaret couldn't leave school early again.

Emma would have been legitimately pissed off about that.

“Yeah, well, none of us really got that memo,” David muttered. “And we’re all trying real hard to be the most worried. We’re pretty sure we’ll get a medal or something.” “We’ve done the medal thing already.” “That was funny!” “Not lost all my humor quite yet,” Emma said. David sighed. “Did you guys bet on it? Whatever the plan was?” “Quest, Em. We did this. It’s a quest and it’s meaningful.” “Didn’t answer my question, Sergeant.” David opened his mouth, only to close it just as quickly and Emma grinned like she’d won something. “You don’t know that yet. And don’t tell Mary Margaret, I think she’s trying to get me to agree to some party at the restaurant when the test results come in.” “Then that ship has sailed already. If she’s trying to get you to agree, then she’s in the late stages of planning. You just have to show up.” “I have to pass the exam.” “You already did,” Emma guaranteed, and David stared at the half-finished burger in his left hand. “So stop being stupid about it.” “Yes, ma’am,” he mumbled. “Don't forget your milkshake, Mer,” he added. “I got whatever the special shake was from this location.”

“Pie oh My,” Merida grinned. “There’s like...actual blueberries in there.” Emma didn’t know who to look at. Or gape at. She’d eaten far too many French fries already. “Wait, did you know that there was a Shake Shack on Broadway? What the hell have we been doing for the last six years?” “It hasn’t been there for six years, boss. And, mostly, Cap keeps harping on the salad thing, so it’s really his fault.” Merida grabbed the shake from David, smile still bright and shoulders as not tense as Emma had seen them in weeks. “Have fun intervening, David. I’ll find you when I know where Phillip’s mom is, boss.” Merida was gone in a flash of red hair and loose shoulders and Emma’s shake was chocolate. She’d definitely taken her phone.

Emma turned back towards David slowly, lips pressed together and he met her with a far too knowing grin. “I’m still not using the word intervention,” he promised. “It’s really a quest for your happiness.” “That kind of sounds worse. I’m not unhappy.” “But worried.” “Yeah,” Emma admitted, appreciating his quick blink when she agreed so quickly. “Weren’t expecting that, were you?” “Not really, no.” “Keeping you on your toes.” She, finally, grabbed one of the cheeseburgers in the bag and there were chicken sandwiches in there as well. That did something absurd to her heart, a fact that could not be healthy since her heart had been going through several different and rather aggressive wringers in the last few weeks.

“I’d rather we stay still for a few minutes, honestly,” David muttered. “The whole point of this was to try and calm you down.” “I don’t need to be calmed down.” “Yeah? You get your blood pressure checked, recently? What’s the deal with Phillip’s mom?” “If I tell you that she’s disappeared you’re going to think I’m insane.”

David shook his head, a contradictory sound in the back of his throat. “Nah, not insane. Clearly exhausted, but not insane.” “God, you have so many opinions. It’s rude.” “Do you not actually want this job?” Emma dropped her cheeseburger on her knee. She hoped she didn’t burn her leg. “What?” she snapped. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Exactly what those words mean in that very specific order, Emma.” “Ok, do not dad me,” she growled. David didn’t blink. He didn’t smile either, but he didn’t blink, just kept staring at her like he was waiting for that very specific reaction.

And Emma knew he was.

She groaned, rolling her head between her shoulders until it almost felt loose and she needed to get downstairs. She didn’t want to go downstairs.

She was the world’s biggest coward.

“I’m not dad’ing you,” David sighed, sounding like those words in that specific order pained him. Emma glared. “I’m friend’ing you. God, can we stop whatever this is? I hate it.” “Did you take your whole lunch off for this?” “Nah, I took several hours off for this on the chance that you did want to avoid Killian’s presser as much as I know you do.” “That’s presumptuous.” “We’ll circle back around to the friendship thing in a second. Now, c’mon, I’m serious about this job. Do you not actually want to do it? Is that why you’ve been avoiding it?” “You shouldn’t even know this job exists,” Emma challenged, and David had the good sense to look almost ashamed.

“And you should know that Mary Margaret is very bad at keeping secrets. Particularly when they concern that pesky mental well-being of yours. You’re also doing a pretty God awful job of trying to deflect around this. We can get Rubes up here to rehash media training if that’d help.” “I’m not the one with a season-ending presser in fifteen minutes.” “No, you’re the one avoiding it. And the job offer.”

Emma’s whole body sagged with the force of her sigh, but David had always been good at precisely this thing and listening to her and resolutely refusing to let her ignore anything. Even if, sometimes, his timing was a little terrible.

She’d eaten all the French fries.

That couldn’t have been healthy.

“That’s not what it is, really,” Emma muttered. “The avoiding the questions or the job offer. I...I told Killian I might want it, but it’s not that simple.” “Why not?” “You have eighty-two days off to spare so I can go down the list?” “Not really.” “Yeah, I figured,” Emma chuckled. She exhaled, a burst of feeling she wished would just leave her alone at this point. “It’s not that simple,” she repeated. “We’ve got kids and his head and I mean...it’s my team too, isn’t it?”

David nodded. “Of course it is. You tell him that?” “When have I had time?” “That’s a garbage answer, Emma and you know it. What are you so scared of?”

She blinked, head tilted and anger rushing through her quick enough it nearly stole all the oxygen in the room. David still didn’t move, staring straight at her with an expectant look on his face and they’d known each other far too long.

That felt like cheating.

“Is everything an acceptable answer?” Emma asked softly, regretting the words as soon as they were out of her mouth.

David moved.

And the plans for the silent auction were sacrificed to the cause, toppled over in a mess Emma was only slightly concerned about, but that disappeared as soon as David’s arms wrapped around her and she started crying into his shoulder again.

“You know, between me and Mattie, I’m not sure who’s doing more damage to your clothing,” Emma mumbled, mouth brushing against his precinct-required button-up. “God, you’re going to have to go home and change.” “Nah, it’ll be fine. I’ve got hours, Em. I planned for this.” “Another crying jag?” “Two in the last few days isn’t really that bad of a proportion.” “Is that the right word?” “I honestly have no idea. Math was never my strong suit.”

She let out a watery laugh, sniffling and not objecting when David brushed the tears off her cheeks. “Change is not really my thing,” Emma admitted, working a slightly strangled noise out of David. “And I know...God, I hope this isn’t it. It shouldn’t be. Not like this. Not on our own terms. That’s not fair.” “It’s not,” David agreed. “But the world doesn’t always agree with that.” “Yeah, well, the world can suck it.”

He nearly cackled, head thrown back and eyes closed lightly and Emma leaned into the kiss when he brushed it over her hair. “That’s the Emma Swan attitude I’ve been waiting for,” David mumbled. “You’ve got to fight back, Em.” “We tried that already and it ended in a very large fine that even Regina wouldn’t go into detail about because she’s scared of my reaction.” “If you’ve got Regina worried about your reaction, then you’ve clearly reached another plane of emotions. That’s almost impressive, if not a little terrifying.” Emma leaned against him, smiling into fabric and he’d never taken his shoulder holster off. He’d probably terrified the security guard downstairs. “I’m not sure if that was a compliment.” “Totally was,” David said. “And Killian wasn’t fighting back for just himself. Also you used we without thinking about it.” “The opinions never cease, do they?”

David shrugged, taking an over exaggerated bite of cheeseburger and it shouldn’t have been as endearing as it was. “He shouldn’t have done it. Obviously. But I kind of get why he did and I get why you’re mad. The whole thing sucks and makes sense and, for what it’s worth, I don’t think you should take the job.” “No?” “No.” “Why not?” Emma pressed, voice turning a little desperate. That was disappointing. David handed her another container of French fries.

“You’ve got to figure that out, Emma. My opinions are only that. It’s your life and your choice and your team.” “That was heavy handed.” “I’m not as good at the hope speeches as Mary Margaret is.”

Emma laughed, but she was still, inexplicably, smiling and eating French fries and it wasn’t the worst intervention. As those things went. “That’s not true,” she disagreed. “Your promotion party is going to be ridiculous. Reese’s will probably get Eric to make sixteen entrées.” “That’s excessive.” “A dozen appetizers, David. A dozen!”

He hummed, memories almost visibly flitting over his eyes. “Ah, but you changed all of that didn’t you? Made a choice and picked something that was yours in your own kind of way?” “Shit, David, that wasn’t even trying.” “Worked though, didn’t it? Sometimes heavy-handed is your only option. And you’re kind of ridiculously stubborn.” Emma clicked her tongue, but there was no point in arguing when David so clearly knew he was right. “If I tell you that it did are you ever going to let me forget it?” “Not for the rest of your life,” he said immediately, and she needed to stop crying. David smiled. “Although, if Killian does something stupid like that again, I’ll absolutely arrest him.” “Noted.” “C’mon, get your laptop and we’ll watch the presser on the live stream.”

Emma ate the rest of her cheeseburger before the presser started, Ruby standing at a podium with a pinch between her eyebrows like she was already asking the New York media contingent to ask something stupid.

Killian was standing slightly to the side, tie and shirt and pants that were also kind of unfair, but probably only to Emma and his fingers kept fiddling with his ring.

“In through your nose, out through your mouth, Em,” David muttered, lacing his fingers through hers when she started yanking on her laces. She grabbed her ring with her other hand.

“As most of you have heard already, Rangers captain Killian Jones suffered a concussion that went undiagnosed in a game against the New Jersey Devils in December,” Ruby started. “Both the Rangers and Devils front offices are looking into the oversight, and while we were hopeful that Jones would make it back for a potential playoff push, that is no longer the case.”

The horde moved, hands jerking into the and recorders thrust forward, like that would make any difference and Emma didn’t remember starting to chew on her lip, but she could taste blood again. It didn’t really go with cheese fries.

Ruby’s glare got sharper.

The reporter in the front row put his recorder down.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Ruby muttered, David laughing softly and that wasn’t part of the pre-presser speech. “This is the official statement from front office. You should have all gotten the brief already, but now you can hear it straight from me. Cap isn’t coming back this season. End of story. Put that in your lede. That’s it.” A reporter raised his hand again. Ruby sighed. “Yeah, what, Zach?”

“Is Cap going to talk?” “I’m standing here, aren’t I?” Killian asked, and both Ruby and Emma rolled their eyes. David laughed again.

“I can see that, Cap. But sometimes you’re just kind of a...figurehead. You know?”

Emma squeezed David’s hand, working a not-so-quiet hiss out of him. “That was shit, wasn’t it?”

“My hand or that asshole reporter?”

“Your hand,” David chuckled. “No, of course the reporter. God, Killian looks like he’s going to kill him right there on camera.” “Checking face.” David mumbled an agreement, letting go of Emma’s hand to wrap an arm around her shoulders and there was something to be said for the steady feel of him against her. That was more heavy-handed.

“Zach, that’s not--” Ruby growled, but Killian moved, standing next to her with narrowed eyes and Zach from wherever visibly recoiled in his seat.

“What’s your question, Zach?” Killian asked brusquely. Ruby shook her head. Her eyes were going to get stuck mid-roll.

Zach’s gaze darted around, like he was looking for fellow media support, a bit disappointed when he didn’t get a single thing from colleagues who were also trying to meet deadline and up their Twitter follower count.

“There’s been talk about what happened, Cap,” Zach said. “And the fine.” “If you want to know how much the fine is, you can get that from the league. That’s public.” “No, no, I don’t really care about the amount.” “Ask a question, Zach.” He nodded, patronizing and obnoxious and Emma exhaled like that was a challenge. Or she could go downstairs and check the asshole herself. They really wouldn’t have been able to afford that fine. “Well, you got hurt in the fight, right?”

Killian didn’t answer, just pressed his lips together. But his cheek was still bruised and he couldn’t really stand up perfectly straight because Victor said that might do something to his ribs and there was a whole new medicine schedule to remember.

“Alright,” Zach sighed, clearly re-examining his interview approach. “So if you’re not going to talk about the fight, then maybe we could get some clarity on what to expect from the rest of...everything.” “Be more specific,” Killian said softly. It didn’t sound like a threat, but it would have been impossible to miss it, a glint in his eyes that Emma only saw when they were down in a playoff series or giving up too many power-play goals and their own power play had looked horrible the night before.

“The Rangers messed up, didn’t they? Missed your symptoms and didn’t stop the fight--” Zach held up his hands when he saw Ruby open her mouth. “I know, I know, Lucas, that’s off the record or unconfirmed, but I mean...Cap’s not usually quite that bruised and battered.” “Get to your goddamn question,” Ruby hissed, and none of this was going according to plan.

Zach grinned. “Fine, fine, fine. Do you think you’ll back on the ice next season, Cap and do you think it’ll be with the Rangers?” “The second part of that question doesn’t make sense,” Killian said. “I’ve got a source that there could be some discussion about moving you around.” “Well your source is an idiot because I’ve got a no trade. I’ve always had that. I’m only ever going to play for this team.” Ruby closed her eyes, retreating away from the podium and Zach appeared to have lost all the blood in his face. Emma licked her lips.

“This is my team,” Killian said, resting his forearms on the podium. That was dumb. He glanced around the room, eyes moving from reporter to reporter and Emma hoped he wasn’t looking for her.

She knew he was looking for her.

“It’s been my team since I got here,” Killian continued. “Because I grew up here. I started playing hockey in this city, bought up my first stick from a place on 89th and learned how to skate, pretty horribly at first, on a tiny patch of ice in Central Park. I learned how to play at the Piers and got my first penalty there. Roughing. Two minutes.”

He took a deep breath, eyes not quite glossy, but getting there and the entire room was frozen. Emma didn’t breathe. She couldn’t. She didn’t want to.

“And something kind of fit with this game,” he said. “I’d...you guys have done the stories. It was a goddamn depressing childhood and hockey didn’t fix that, but it certainly helped. It was...everything. This game and the feeling I got on the ice and how good I was at scoring.” The room laughed.

Emma laughed.

There were tears on her cheeks.

“So I kept scoring and Team USA noticed and Minnesota noticed and of course I went there because I was pretty great at scoring, but I really only ever wanted to be as good as my brother.” Killian flashed a smile, glancing at the cameras in the back of the room, and Emma felt her heart twist. “Liam was,” he exhaled, teeth finding his lip and fingers brushing over the tattoo on the back of his wrist, the same one two of three other horsemen shared. “He was better than me. So much better than me. But, uh, well, you guys wrote those stories too. Everything that happened happened and Liam couldn’t play and I hurt my hand and I thought it was over. It had to be because it…” Emma couldn't wipe her tears away quick enough. That was ridiculous.

And Killian’s smile was shaky at best, voice getting gruffer the longer he talked. His hands moved to the edge of the podium, knuckles going white when it he gripped it because everyone in that rom knew there was more.

“It didn’t didn’t end, right?” Killian asked, shrugging slightly. “The game was still there and still as important as it always was because I thought it was all I had. But, well, then something crazy happened.” Someone called what from the back of the room and Emma’s breath hitched at the force of Killian’s answering look. It was like he was stunned someone had to ask, but was glad they did and she’d never heard his voice turn that way, pride and feeling in every single letter.

“I met my wife,” he answered. “And hockey wasn’t everything anymore. It was important, but it was...a job again. The way it should be. Because it’s a game. And as much as I want to win, as much as we both want to win, she’s...she’s even more competitive than me.”

David kissed Emma’s head again, tugging her tighter against his side when her shoulders started to shake.

“It can’t only be about winning,” Killian said. “I’m not even biased when I tell you that we’ve got the two greatest kids in the world. They’re…” He exhaled, shaking his head slightly like he couldn't believe he’d talked that long. Emma couldn’t remember the last time she’d taken a deep breath. “They’re the greatest kids in the world, quote me on that. So I wanted to win for them. I still do. Desperately, if I’m being honest. Which is how we ended up here.

I lost sight of how important everything else was because I thought the only thing I could do to earn it was to play. But that’s...I mean, that’s insane, right?” No one answered his question. Emma might have nodded. “Don’t answer that,” he mumbled. “That was rhetorical. It’s insane. Hockey isn’t everything. My family is and there aren’t enough press conferences to apologize for not remembering that. So, to answer your question, Zach. I don’t know. I want to come back. I want to play for this team and win for this team and my kids. Because my kids deserve a goddamn Stanley Cup parade.

But I’m done risking everything that matters to me for that. And if some kid wants to take my spot on this roster or with this city, then he’s more than welcome to try. You guys got any other questions or we good here?” No one answered. “I think we’re good here, Cap,” Ruby muttered, holding her arm out and Killian nodded as walked away from the podium.

Emma exhaled.

“I’ll totally still arrest him if he does something stupid again,” David mumbled, and they split another burger before she heard the footsteps.

She didn’t turn at first, could feel him staring at the back of her head hard enough that it was nearly enough make her jump up and sling her arms around him and kiss him until he couldn't see straight, but Emma didn’t move.  

It probably wasn’t fair, was almost sort of teasing, but she figured, in the grand scheme of things, it sort of made them even.

“Swan,” Killian said softly, and there went any sense of teasing. She wasn’t entirely prepared for the softness in his voice, like a name that was entirely his now was the single most important thing he'd ever said.

Emma spun, met with blue and eyes and slightly parted lips and she thought she noticed him sag slightly when she looked him. Like he’d been holding his breath too.

“Hey,” she muttered. “You’re...I thought you’d still be downstairs.” “I wanted to be here before the presser, but, uh, some stuff happened and I’m--” “--Here now.” Killian nodded. “You have a couple minutes to talk, Swan?”

“Yeah,” Emma whispered. “Yeah, of course.”

[cherrygorilla]

6 Year Anniversary and Coral’s Character Profile

Hi there! Sorry for not being very active on here, life’s just been very hectic at the moment adjusting to university life, but I promise that I’m still working on content, I just don’t have a great deal of free time, so it’s a slow process. But now that I’m more settled I should be able to get into a proper writing routine. Fingers crossed!

But anyway, the reason I’m making this post is because around six years ago I made my fanfic account and posted my first chapter of my first story and ever since then I’ve just fallen in love with writing more and more. I’ve loved being able to hone my craft and improve and evolve my characters as I’ve grown up. It’s so crazy to think that I’ve been doing this for so long and that I’m still hanging around! I didn’t have much time to prepare anything for this milestone and I wouldn’t have known what to do anyway, so I thought that now would be as good a time as any to post the character profile I’ve been working on for Coral since she was created, along with my account, all those years ago. 

I got the questions for this OC character profile thing from my wonderful friend @foreveralwaysanauthor , who wrote similar profiles for her characters Makana and Xander, so be sure to check those out along with her stories! But here’s my profile for Caroline “Coral” Samantha Cole! I hope you like it! 

Appearance: obviously, including any quirks, how do they carry themself, average clothing

Tanned complexion, freckles across nose and cheeks, blue eyes, cute dimples, curly golden hair, great curvy body, kind of on the short side, bright smile, most often carries herself with confidence, wears a lot of bright colours, shorts, playsuits and summer dresses but likes to take fashion risks and isn't afraid to draw some attention by wearing something out there

Preferences:

Sexuality: because of the time she lives in I don't think that she'd ever act on any feelings she didn't think would be accepted by others, because at the core of everything that's all she really ever wants, but if it really came down to it and she was able to explore her feelings freely I think she'd come to realise that she's bisexual

Favourite food: the banana bread pudding her mom makes

Favourite colour: aqua blue, or gold, if she was really going to indulge herself 

Favourite animal: dogs, especially puppies

Favourite weather: sunny

Favourite season: summer

Favourite time of day: she's rarely up to see it, but she loves sunrise, when the stars start to disappear and the sun streaks the sky with all the pretty colours 

Favourite music: she's open to anything as long as she can sing along, but she does love a show tune

Foods that they will/will not eat: she's really not picky so she'll try anything, unless it involves tuna  

Religion: she wasn't brought up in a particularly religious family, they celebrate christmas, but in more of a commercial way, so she doesn't really have much of an opinion on religion

Political Beliefs: again, not super political, she just thinks everyone should be able to be treated equally

Hogwarts House: Slytherin, hands down. 

Personality: calm, rude, oblivious, introspective, stubborn, etc

She was practically born a drama queen and her enthusiasm can be a little overbearing at times but she's got a big heart and is a total softie if you get to know her enough for her to trust you. She's fiercely loyal, almost to a fault, and pretty stubborn if she gets something set in her mind. Speaking of getting something set in her mind, she's super determined; if she has a goal and won't let anything stand in her way. She's no stranger to jealousy, although she'd never admit it, and has a wild temper if the wrong thing sets her off, but she feels every emotion so intensely that sometimes they just get the better of her, which can be both a great and terrible thing. 

Family:

Who are their parents? Jacqueline and Brett Cole

What is their relationship with their parents? She's really close to her parents. Yes, she can get a little feisty sometimes and isn't a stranger to getting argumentative if she thinks something is unfair or if they're getting on her ass about something, but they raised her in a supportive, loving home and their guidance earned them her total respect. They're firm but fair when they need to be and she certainly keeps them on their toes, but they're always there if she needs them to be, whether it's to offer a shoulder to cry on, provide some much-needed advice or just to have a good laugh and cheer her up.

Do they have siblings? She has a twin brother, Thomas "Tanner" Cole

What is that relationship like? Being a twin is the only thing she's known, especially because she's the younger of the two twenty three minutes (something that Tanner likes to remind her of constantly), so she's had someone to goof around with from the second she left the womb. They may share a birthday down to the hour, but Tanner still like to exercise his big brother status from time to time, even though he knows deep down that Coral has enough fire in her belly to handle any threat far better than he could. They don't have a secret twin language and they don't have a telepathic twin connection, but they are incredibly close. They don't always see eye to eye on things, but they feel everything in a very similar way and they can read each other really well, so it's pretty difficult to keep secrets from one another. They were inseparable from birth, pulling faces to make each other laugh and taking their toys on grand expeditions along the beach from the minute they could walk and talk and as they grew older their bond, despite their differences, only grew stronger. As with all siblings, there were days when they annoyed the crap out of each other and couldn't stand to be in the same room unless they were pulling hair and yelling threats, but the anger never hung around for long. All it would take would be one joke or one dumb look and they'd be back to the being the best of friends. They're there for each other no matter what having someone around who understands you and what you're going through completely all the time is incredibly convenient. 

Family Life: 

What was it like for them growing up? She had a great childhood. A lot of her time was spent outside, either playing with her brother or her friends (often both together), and the rest was spent at dance and acting classes. She loved being a part of school plays and dance recitals and would practise in the living room every night after dinner. She loved the bedtime stories that her dad would read her and her brother every night and some of her fondest memories are of when she would play dress-up with her mom on Saturday mornings. Her parents always made time for her and Tanner and they certainly didn't go short of love, laughter or attention when they were kids. It was as idyllic as an all-American family could have hoped to have been really.

Are there things that affect them in their present state from their childhood? One memory that stands out, in particular, was when her mom and aunt took her to see a play at the local theatre. From the second that she saw the lady in the glittery dress parading around the stage, singing and dancing as the crowd whooped and hollered, she was hooked. She knew she wanted to be like her one day, up on that stage in front of an adoring crowd. And then they got their first television set, where she could see these actresses from the comfort of her own home and her life was changed yet again. She'd sit gazing at the people flickering on the screen for hours, even after her parents told her that it would rot her brain. She simply didn't care, she was too fascinated to look away. All she knew was that she wanted to be in that black and white box like them one day. 

What was their discipline like as a child? Coral's always had a feisty side, even from a young age, so she's no stranger to trouble. But she's never been inherently bad and would never be malicious unless provoked, so a good telling off and a grounding was usually all it took to keep her in line.

Were they rich, poor or somewhere in between? Somewhere in between, if not slightly on the richer side. They didn't have heaps and heaps of money, but they lived pretty comfortably and their house was one of the nicest amongst her friends, which meant that it was usually the go-to house for hangouts (something Tanner and Coral loved). 

Cultural History: does this affect the character, do they have cultural traditions that they follow

Not necessarily. Their grandmother is Hawaiian and they take yearly trips there to visit family and immerse themselves in the culture but not a great deal of that is incorporated into their everyday life. That doesn't mean that they don't love the traditions they do take part in when they're there though; the luaus are one of the best things they do all year. 

Flaws: every character should have a flaw (maybe they are really caring, but it leads to them being too trusting and getting manipulated; maybe they are super smart, but they have a hard time connecting to people as a result; etc) 

Coral has an almost obscene list of flaws, as most human beings do. She's stubborn and argumentative. She's feisty and brash and overbearing. She's a total drama queen, she's naive, she's vain, she's driven to a fault, she's overly emotional, she's flaky if uninterested, she falls in love too easily, she takes everything very personally (not ideal if she wants to be an actress) and she has a terrible temper. But I'm sure that there is more that I just can't think of at the moment. She's a bit of a hot mess, but she owns it.

Blank Spots: everyone has a bit of ‘basic knowledge’ that they somehow missed or misunderstood (it happens for everyone), what is the character’s ‘blank spot’

She thought that limes were just lemons that weren't ripe yet for longer than she'd care to admit.

Wants: what does the character want most, what do those around the character want for them

This is an easy answer that everyone around her knows the answer to. She wants to be a star. Well, she wants to be an actress, but ultimately all she really wants is stardom and she won't let anyone get in the way of that. 

Needs: what does the character actually need (this can be different from the wants, and often should be for character growth; however, the character growth can happen even if the wants and needs are the same by having the course of events be contrary to the characters expectations)

She needs to get a strong head on her shoulders. She needs some guidance and maturity before being let loose in the world and she needs the right support behind her. But most of all, she needs love. She needs to feel loved and she needs to have a connection with someone where she can open her heart and embrace her vulnerability instead of hiding it away.

Fears: what is the character afraid of? both literally and existentially

Failure to achieve her dreams, disappointing her family, being alone, being ridiculed, spiders and clumps of hair in drains

How do they handle:

Disappointment - If she's disappointed in herself then she'll really beat herself up about it, but if someone else is disappointed in her then it'll absolutely crush her and she'll get super upset

Anger - Not very well at all; she's got a pretty bad temper and it rears its head more than it should. She's not afraid to fight for something she believes in and isn't one to back down from an argument easily. It also takes her a while to calm back down too. 

Embarrassment - If she's acting she doesn't get embarrassed at all. But if it's just Coral and something embarrassing happens to her then it's crippling. She's so image-conscious and self-absorbed that if there's a possibility that something could taint that then she won't be able to let it go until she's fixed it.

Attraction - She's a total flirt and will happily play into any interest that is directed her way, but playing coy is as far as it goes with her; she's never been one to make the first move and feels much more comfortable using her alluring nature to attract attention rather than seeking out suitors herself.

Betrayal - Loyalty is a huge deal for Coral and she's very protective of those close to her. She places massive amounts of trust in her friends and they often reciprocate that, so betrayal is a massive issue for her and it's really difficult for her to cope with. She is quick to turn on someone and it's very hard for them to regain that trust if they've lost it. 

Fight or flight - In most situations she's not afraid to fight, but if she feels really overwhelmed and out of her comfort zone then she switches to flight mode and bolts. 

Money - Luckily, money was never an issue for her when she was growing up. But all the time she's spent flipping through magazines full of celebrities and the lavish lives they lead has left her with quite an expensive taste.  

Lack of sleep - She just gets a little cranky and snappy. She's not much of a coffee drinker, but if it helps her get through the day or makes her seem a little more sophisticated then she'll stomach it to give herself a boost.

Alcohol - It makes her really giggly at first but then she loses all her inhibitions and moves into the frame of mind where she thinks everything is a good idea. Soon she hits a wall though and either crashes back to the reality of sobriety or spirals into a black-out, drunken mess. No matter what though, she's a tipsy disaster when she drinks.

Injustice - She's not afraid to stand up for what she thinks is right and will fight for justice if she truly believes that something is unfair, no matter what anyone else says. She'll always trust her gut instinct.

Mental illness - It's not something that she's had to deal with at this point in her life, but as she struggles with issues later on in her life I think it will be difficult for her to cope with due to how much she allows her emotions to impact her. 

Grief - Again, she's a super emotional person and allows her feelings to deeply affect her, so grief is really overwhelming. She doesn't shut herself away, but sometimes the pain becomes so great that she can't comprehend or articulate what she's feeling anymore, to herself or to others.

Exercise - She's never been super sporty in the traditional sense, but she's been dancing since she was three and has taken up cheerleading in high school, not to mention all the surfing she does in her free time.

Defining moment:  is the character’s defining moment going to happen to them during the story or has it already happened (characters can have more than one defining moment)

Coral hasn't had a defining moment yet in the story, but there is one pretty major one coming up within the next few chapters, which impacts the lives of many of the characters, so keep your eyes peeled for that. She'll have quite a few distinct, defining moments in the story though that all shift her life onto different paths. So things are about to take a turn for her!

How do/would they feel about:

Glitter - Loves it! Duh!

Ferris Wheels - They're pretty fun, especially at the top when you can look out and see for miles around.

Camping - She does like being outdoors, but sleeping on the ground with bugs and no satin pillowcase is not really her jam.

Coffee - Thinks it tastes gross but makes you look sophisticated, so she'll make the sacrifice if she's feeling particularly tired.

Crispy or floppy bacon - crispy; floppy bacon weirds her out

Mushrooms - pretty indifferent, she doesn't hate them but she doesn't love them either

Twilight books/movies - A teen movie about vampires? Not really her sort of thing...unless she could be in it. 

Guns - She's pretty against them all; she just doesn't understand why anyone would feel the need to possess such a dangerous weapon. But we'll see how that opinion holds up as the story progresses...

Extras: 

Do they have a signature smile? - Of course, she's been practising her smile for the paparazzi for years!

Do they have a tell when they lie? - Nope, she's an actress and is a master when it comes to lying convincingly; if she has to convince a whole audience that she's a totally different person then she should surely be able to keep up a little lie.

Do they have any nervous tics? - She gnaws on the inside skin of her lip.

Do they speak loudly, softly or average volume? - A little on the loud side; she wants to be heard, she loves the attention.

What is their quality of voice? - She's got a bright, clear voice when speaking but if she opens it to sing then the real power is unleashed.

Do they gesture when they talk? - All the time, she's super expressive when she talks and is always using her hands to exaggerate things.

Do they have a good understanding of personal space? - Most of the time, but if you're one of her best friends then she's much more likely to invade it.

How do they greet other people? - Usually with a 'hey' or a 'hi' and one of her megawatt smiles 

How do they say goodbye? - Probably just by saying 'bye' or 'see ya' or maybe just waving, unless she's pissed at you, in which case you'd be lucky if she even looked at you, same goes for greeting people

Is there anything that they always have with them/on them? - She always has a hair tie and tons of perfume on. You can always count on her to have mints too.

Do they remember faces or names better? - Faces, she's hopeless with names unless they're important to her.

What does the character admire most in others? - Loyalty, ambition and kindness

Pet peeves - Loud chewers, people standing too close in lines and people who don't cover their mouth when they cough or sneeze

What grosses them out? - Not washing your hands after using the bathroom and when her boy friends scratch their balls and shove their hands in each others faces. 

[artistlove17]

I cut my last 2 friends off yesterday. 🙄

Let me try to get it all in one post... if that's possible.

For starters, they keep stealing from us. Several times my friend Joseph (who has been our friend since 7th grade) has stolen shit from my fiance. He stole a power cord out of our playstation and claimed it was his, even though my fiance and I both remembered that when he came in he said he had forgotten his cord and we gave him ours to use while he stayed at our house. But as he was leaving my fiance asked for it back and he defensively claimed it was HIS power cord and shoved it off in his bag.

My fiance also let him borrow a bunch of games once while he was out travelling and couldn't play them, only to come home and Joseph claim he never gave him any games. We're 99.99% sure he sold those games because he thought my fiance would forget about them. 🤦‍♀️

Joseph also stole some fake plastic guns my fiance had one time. We had them in the trunk of our car and Joseph literally just took them when he was getting his bag out of our trunk.

Then there's Eli. Joseph's "wife."

We took them camping once and had bought a first aid kit as a part of our camping supplies. But then when we were dropping them off back at their house she just took our entire first aid kit. She carried it in with her and then when she went to the bathroom I grabbed it and took it back to our car. It really pissed me off how she just took it and didn't even care that we saw her taking it without her even asking, like she really thought we either wouldn't notice or wouldn't say anything to her. 🙄

I have no idea why they just keep stealing random shit. 🤦‍♀️

Then there is the fact that they make their relationship seem like a competition with ours. My fiance and I have been dating for nearly 7 years (it'll be 7 in January) and have been engaged for 1.5. Joseph and Eli have been together maybe 2 years. They started dating right before my fiance and I got engaged, and then they immediately got engaged after we did. Then they RUSHED to get married, Joseph even made comments about selling his playstation so they'd have money to get married. 🤦‍♀️ And as soon as Eli got a $6000 inheritance from her Grandma, they ran to the courthouse and got married and invited one of Eli's friends but didn't invite us... even though they had been talking about wanting us to come with them for weeks. And every time they're around us they just make their relationship seem like some kind of competition with ours and keep asking us when we're "finally" going to get married... as if we haven't been together for 7 fucking years. Marriage isn't even really anything we're focused on right now. It just really irritates me that they think their 2 year, unhappy, problem filled relationship is ANYTHING compared to ours.

Another problem IS their relationship. They are constantly having break downs and yelling at each other and constantly asking us how "we deal with things like that".... my fiance and I have NEVER yelled at each other. We've never gotten to the point of just absolute anger that we have a full blown fight. We bicker and argue yea, you're going to do that with ANY other human being. But we handle it like adults and talk about it. We don't just freak out and throw tantrums like children and yell at each other the way that they do. 🤦‍♀️

They honestly have a very toxic relationship. Joseph treats Eli like crap.

For example: My fiance made four hotdogs in our campfire the last time we went camping. He made one for each of us for breakfast. Joseph got up and got 2 of the hotdogs... and then Eli said "I'm hungry" and he told her to make herself a hotdog... my fiance told Joseph that he made one for her but Joseph ate both and so he should make her another one. Joseph acted all upset to have to make his WIFE another hotdog after he fucking ate hers... like what the actual fuck?

He's also admitted to my fiance that he gets mad at Eli and yells at her and calls her names, like she went to open their car door once and the handle broke (not her fault) but Joseph got pissed and called her stupid. And he acted like that was just completely normal and was wondering if we ever did that... 🙄🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️ like what the FUCK. No, that is NOT normal you dumbass mother fucker.

There's also the fact that Joseph is just... nasty. Like not to be mean to the guy, he was our friend for a long time, but over the last couple years every time we hang out he just smells like shit. Like actual shit. He will not take a shower and he's always got oily hair and smells terrible. He literally refuses to shower and it's really nasty and the smell makes me gag when he gets in the car.

We've also tried and tried and tried to get Joseph to come work with us. We've offered to pick him up and take him to and from work with us and everything... but he literally won't even answer the messages despite him and Eli CONSTANTLY complaining that they need jobs and they have no money... Eli is "disabled" so she thinks she can't get a job, despite the job we are at now being a sitting job. She thinks her hips wouldn't be able to handle her working... which is whatever, I can't tell you what HER body can handle. But Joseph is perfectly capable of working yet he will not even talk to us about an EASY job that we can 100% get him... it makes no sense. He just DOESN'T want to work. He wants to sit around playing video games but that's not going to get them anywhere, and when his dad (who is morbidly obese and in terrible health) dies, they'll have nowhere to go and not a penny to their names.

And the biggest thing for me... is that they CONSTANTLY... CONSTANTLY, use their mental health issues as EXCUSES for everything. I have depression and anxiety and my fiance has severe social anxiety... but we still FORCE ourselves to go out and do things and get a job and take care of ourselves. We don't allow our mental issues to ruin our lives, we just DEAL with them in any way that we can. We aren't about to sit in a room rotting and make ourselves even more depressed because we don't want to deal with our shit.

They have melt downs and episodes every single day and just sit around focusing on things that MAKE them feel bad. They will sit and complain and whine about something until they make themselves depressed... they do it all the time when we take them out to do stuff and then it just ruins mine and my fiances moods.

We went camping last weekend and it really sealed the deal for me cutting them off...

We got there and it was getting dark. We always go camping at my moms because they have a lot of land and we can camp by ourselves wherever we want on their land, which is awesome.

So my fiance and I wanted to go let my family know that we were there like we usually would do. And when we came back Joseph and Eli were sitting in the car very pissed off...

Eli tried to say some crap about us leaving without setting up their tent first and tried to make it a joke. "Well we said we should probably set up the tents first! But nooo, and now it's dark" which I didn't find funny at all... it was just really annoying. Like first of all, I needed to let my family know we're here so they don't freak out about someone being on their land. And secondly... ya'll are both 21 and 22 years old, you can't set up your own damn tent??

Which, they do that shit any time we go camping. They act like we're supposed to treat them like they're our damn kids or something and do every little thing for them. And it's so damn ridiculous.

Then my brother came down there to drink with us and Eli and Jospeh walked off on their own and Eli was crying and shit and having a breakdown while Joseph was just pissy about something. They acted like they just did not want my brother to be there... which really pissed me off.

Like, that's MY brother. This is HIS land that my family and I have invited ya'll to camp on. I invited him to come drink with us because I wanted to hang out with him... and ya'll are forreal throwing a fit because we aren't giving you all of our attention or something??

Ugh. That's all for now. I might add something else I think of later.

But point is, we had really shit friends and I'm so done with them. 😤🤦‍♀️

[queenofcats17]

The Comfort of Death

@insane-control-room posted the second chapter of {god([dess})titute] and I wanted to write more with Hel and Bertram interacting. 

This was honestly really fun. Generally when I write Hel, she’s in a position of power or putting on the “Queen of the Dead” act. 

Sidenote, the majority of this fic came from me asking Control a bunch of questions about Bertram’s reaction to certain things and ended with us kind of rping. ^^”

Bertram hadn’t really expected to see Hel again. She was the goddess of Death for an entire pantheon, so she definitely had a job to do. But he found her in his office once more, a week after her first visit. She was seated on a chair, hugging a dog to her chest. It looked as though she’d been crying. The dog appeared to be a mix between a Pomeranian and a Huskie, with a Huskie’s coloring but a Pomerian’s body shape. Its collar looked like it was made of old leather, a rune charm hanging from it. When Bertram entered, the dog immediately fixed the architect with its gaze. 

Child of Eros. A deep voice echoed in Bertram’s mind, and he instinctively knew it was coming from the dog. 

“Don’t scare him, Garm.” Hel pressed her face into the dog’s fur. “We’re his guests.” His voice was weary and resigned. 

My apologies. The dog continued to stare at Bertram. His eyes were an unearthly red, one that was most definitely not found on normal dogs. He got the feeling that the dog did not normally look like a dog.

“I apologize for showing up unannounced yet again,” Hel said. “I promise, I’m not trying to make a habit of this.”

“There’s no need to apologize.” He assured her, putting his briefcase down on his desk. “So, what brings you here this time?” Hel drew into herself, burying her face in Garm’s fur. 

It has...not been a good day. Garm said. My mistress is feeling very emotionally vulnerable. 

“Emotionally vulnerable? Did something happen?” Immediately, Bertram’s natural inclination to ‘uncleness’ reared its head. Hel might have been an old and terrible god of death, but she was also a young woman who looked up to Bertram quite a bit. 

“...How much do you know about the death of Baldr?” Hel asked. There was a weight to the words that made Bertram distinctly uncomfortable. 

“I know...Of it.” He answered slowly. “But I wouldn’t mind if you explained it.” Hel hunched her shoulders, taking a deep shaking breath. 

Would you rather I told him, Mistress? Garm looked back at her. 

“Thank you, but I can do it.” Hel murmured. It took a moment before she finally looked up, her lips set in a thin line. 

“It’s alright if you’d rather not talk about it,” Bertram said. 

“No, I’ll do it.” She shook her head. “Baldr was killed by my father and sent to my kingdom. Literally everyone wanted me to release him. To let him go back to his family.” Her shoulders hunched once more. “They come to me every year to remind me what a selfish little ice queen I am.”

“And how do you feel about it?” Bertram asked. “Did you want to keep him with you?”

“There is an order to things.” She replied. “The dead cannot come back. There are no exceptions.” 

Bertram couldn’t help but smile, leaning his head on one of his hands. “Am I out of the order of things?” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Hel asked, her brow furrowing in a frown. Garm narrowed his eyes, ready to attack if Bertram insulted his mistress. 

“Is me defying my role out of the order of things?”

“That is not my business,” Hel said, her cheeks turning red. “My concern is the balance between life and death.”

“What is death in your eyes?” 

Hel’s frown deepened. She’d never been asked these kinds of questions before. There was an inherent understanding in the gods of her pantheon and her wards of what death was and what her role in it happened to be. 

“Death is when the bodies dies, whether from illness or murder or hunger or battle, and the spirit passes on to a different plane, whether that's Helheim, Freyja's realm, or Valhalla.” She finally replied after a moment or two.

“That means that death is not absolute,” Bertram said, smiling. “Because a different plane means the soul is still intact.” Hel continued to stare at him, visibly confused. 

Do not toy with her, Piedmont. Garm growled, although Bertram didn’t seem to notice. 

"They're still the same person, correct?" Bertram continued. 

"I...I suppose?" Hel nodded slowly. 

"So they're alive, just not in the world of the present."

"That...does make sense." She still looked incredibly confused by this concept, but she did nod once more. 

"Therefore, there is no 'dead', only in a different realm."

"I...Yes. That does make sense." She paused, then smiled mournfully. "That does seem to be the way everyone else viewed the situation. No wonder they considered me a selfish bitch for not allowing Baldr to return to the land of the living."

"Hey! That's your choice.” Bertram said, putting his hands up. “What merit does he have to live?"

She shrugged. "He was Odin's favorite son. The golden boy. He never did much, but he was always kind to everyone. Perhaps that's why my father chose him to die."

"Mhm. Has he wronged or righted anyone?" Bertram asked. 

"Like I said, he never did much. He was just...Nice to everyone. He's perfect in every way." Her voice turned bitter on the last sentence, her face twisting into a decidedly petulant and childlike look of disgust. 

"Really? How so?" Bertram folded his hands on his desk, watching her calmly.

"He's beautiful, kind, never harmed anyone in his life." She gestured with one hand, the other holding Garm to her chest. "Everyone loved him and the prospect of having him anywhere near an abomination like me was so abhorrent to his parents. After all, I'm a child of evil, aren't I? I can't possibly actually care about my wards!" She looked both furious and on the verge of tears. 

Bertram gestured to a couch in the corner of his office. “Sit down.”

She sniffled a little and moved over to sit on it, Garm still clutched in her arms. The dog had begun licking at her face, shooting warning glances back at Bertram. 

"Helheim is for the damned, isn't it?” Bertram asked, trying to get some clarity on the situation. “Who decides where one goes?" 

"It's not for the damned." She looked rather offended. "It's for everyone Freyja and Odin don't want. I've gotten my fair share of criminals, yes, but the majority of my wards are those whose deaths are deemed 'dishonorable'. Dishonorable because they did not die in battle."

"What an odd system," he murmured. "Who's son is Baldr again?"

"Odin's. His second son, but blatantly his favorite."

"Why did he not take him then? In his realm.”

She couldn't help but stifle a laugh. "Things would have been much easier had that been the case. But no, Baldr did not die in battle and so his death was deemed 'dishonorable' and he was sent to me."

"That's, excuse my french, bullshit." He grinned. "This is why we only have one place in Olympus." He paused a moment to think. "Your charges are yours. You do a wonderful job. You are great. You must know they've burdened you with an awful task."

She watched him for a moment or two before smiling, tears in her eyes. “Thank you.” 

Her father had told her something like that once. He’d come to visit her for her birthday one year when she’d been very young. It had been shortly after her exile to Helheim and she’d been crying over the fact that she was essentially alone, deprived of her family and friends. 

“The old man gave you a tough job, pumpkin.” Her father had said, pulling her into his lap. “But I know you can do it. You’re a brave, kind young lady and I know that you’re gonna do a great job. No matter what happens, don’t ever let anyone tell you otherwise. You’re a good kid.”

"For what?" Bertram scoffed, still smiling, "For telling the truth?" 

Hel just laughed. It felt good, just talking with Bertram like this. He treated her as if she was an ordinary person. She felt no pressure to behave a certain way or conform to any role. Her wards treated her warmly, but there was always an underlying sense of reverence to their interactions with her. She was their ruler and they never forgot that. She had a few friends among the Aesir, most notably Freyja, but the majority of them were not fond of her. Her expression soon grew solemn. 

“There’s something I need to show you.” She said, placing Garm on the ground and standing up. Bertram’s smile faded a bit. In situations involving a god’s death, red flags were generally everywhere. But he was the ultimate uncle, so he nodded for her to go on.

"I enjoy your company, and I wish us to be friends. And so I feel you must see the other reason I was shunned." Taking a deep breath, she lifted her skirt, revealing her lower body. From the waist down, her body was that of a corpse. Not a fresh one, which might have made it better, but that of a frost-bitten mummy. 

Although her strangeness was not as prominent as her brothers’, easily covered with long skirts and tall boots, it was something she was constantly reminded of. When her emotions got out of control, the rot tended to spread, causing her to cut quite an intimidating figure when she was truly angry. Not to mention, the half of her body that was rotting tended to change in situations where she was interacting with people who had a certain image of her. 

She fully expected Bertram to recoil in horror, scream, or at least by put off by her corpse lower body. Instead, Bertram laughed, but it wasn’t cruel. 

"What a stupid reason! Your legs are legacies of strength! Not of something to be shunned!" 

She stared at him, genuinely surprised he didn’t immediately thing she was disgusting. "The...The corpse thing. That's not...You're not..." 

You are not repulsed? Garm tilted his head to the side. 

"Of course I'm not repulsed!” He said. “My dear nephew, my Johan, he has polio. Its similar to what you have, though invisible. It's nothing to be repulsed by."

"Hm." She dropped her skirt. "Interesting." Then she perked up a bit. "Johan? Johan Ramirez?" 

“Yes.” Bertram was definitely a little nervous about Hel’s knowledge of Johan’s name. Still, he remained calm about it. 

"Oh! I've heard about him!" She clapped her hands together. "One of my wards met a little boy who spoke of him." 

They spoke highly of him. Garm agreed. 

"He's..." Bertrum smiled wistfully and nodded. "Good."

"He certainly seems like a lovely man." She nodded as well. "And you obviously care a great deal about him."

"Of course I do," Bertrum smiled. “He's family. You could be family, too."

"Very funny." She immediately replied, rolling her eyes. 

"I'm honest."

Hel’s eyes widened and her head whipped around so that she could see his face. He did look genuine. She couldn’t see any trace in his expression that he was trying to pull one over on her. 

"You...You are?" Her voice was quiet and unsure. 

"Of course. As someone who's lied to himself for a very long time, I've come to terms that lying doesn't work. I'm honest when I say you could be family too." He smiled gently. 

She just stared at him, her expression blank. Then the floodgates seemed to open and she started to openly sob. She looked so young in that moment, so small and vulnerable. Bertram pulled her close with his wings and just hugged her. 

.

When Lacie showed up to work that day, Bertram proudly presented hir with Hel. 

“This is our daughter now!” He proclaimed proudly. He held Hel up, holding her under her arms. 

Hel waved sheepishly. “Hello again.”

Greetings, mortal. 

Lacie’s attention was drawn down to a small dog by Bertram’s feet that absolutely did not feel like a dog. Something had obviously happened this morning. Oh well, their lives were weird enough. 

“So, we have a kid now?” Lacie laughed and shook hir head. “Well, alright.” She could tell Bertram wasn’t about to be talked out of this. Might as well go along with it. 

[lunaraen]

I present.... were-Quinn au, any prompt u like,, just,, Were-Quinn thanks in advance

Quinn, for all her attachment to control and to her life havingsome degree of predictability, has come to accept that there are some parts ofher life destined for random chaos and less expected twists.

It hasn't been all bad; they've managed to live through it, eachand every one of them, despite it all.

For as much trouble as she and her friends get into, usually dueto the whims of others, it's said chaos that led to her gaining any realfriends in the first place, to finding and creating their odd little familyafter she was so sure that all she really wanted was to be alone.

It hasn't exactly been all good either, though.

"Ow!" Because maybe Quinn's life was lonely before,but at least it wasn't constantly weird. Or annoyingly painful. She winces,tasting blood as she pushes herself upright from where she's lying on Kate'scouch, and doesn't quite manage to hold back her frustration when she realizesshe hadn't even been talking this time. Her cheek's paying for it all the same,stinging where it rests against her teeth. "What the h--"

Kate, who's put up with this longer than Quinn herself might'veif she was the one listening and not in pain, doesn't even look up from herbook this time, lowering it just enough for Quinn to see her sunglasses slidingdown the bridge of her nose before Kate nudges them back up.

"Quinn, can you not bite your own cheek for fiveminutes?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't realize how easy it was to deal with stupid sharp teeth-- ow!" Karma rearsits spiky head, and Quinn's fingers dig into the couch, half curling into fistsas she brushes her tongue over her front teeth, the least painful so far."Seriously, why can't they change quickly? Or later?"

"It's a sign somebody wants you to be quiet untiltonight." The pause lasts just long enough for Kate to clearly considerholding back some comment before deciding against restraint, lifting the bookonce again so the bottom of the dusty tome and her elbows rest against thetable while she all but buries her nose in archaic illustrations and crypticwriting. "Me. I want you to be quietfor a few hours so I can piece together some answers without you freakingout."

Tempting as it might be to try and blame Kate, none of this isher fault and she's only tried to help. Quinn can imagine her own temperwouldn't be much better if she listened to someone complain this long.

Still, she allows herself a bit of sulking as she lies backdown, softened pouting tempered by appreciation for how much Kate’s trying todo.

"Nobody ever really goes to you for emotional support, dothey?"

"That's what Zed's for." Zed, sitting on the otherside of the table, waves when Kate gestures to him, still slowly paging througha different, smaller book with his other hand. "They come to me for mycharming personality-- and apparently my library. I'm impressed you think I'll have something on this when youdon't. You're much more of a mythology buff than I am."

If Quinn could rely on that knowledge, she would.

Werewolf would have been her first guess, but none of thevariations she's ever heard of match enough with her symptoms or dreadfullylong transformation.

Never mind that, as far as she knows, she hasn't been bitten orscratched at by a were-anything, so she has no idea what passed this on, andthe potential candidates are too many to list thanks to how many monsters liketargeting her and her friends and how many of them Quinn beats back on theregular.

What little bits of fur Quinn has are both too short and toosoft, currently, to really say what animal or monster she's becoming, otherthan that becoming it's a slow process and that it has darned sharp teeth.

And a hearty appetite for something meaty, which helps not atall with deciding on a cure or preparation steps beyond hoping cooked food willdo.

There’s cooked steaks in her bag, and it better be enough.

She doesn’t want to pay for Kate’s groceries, or steal them inthe first place, and she really doesn’t want to rely on whatever food sourceZed’s been using.

"And you know way more about generally spooky things than Ido." Coming to Kate still wasn't a solely logical decision, if sensible inthe first place, and Quinn at least takes comfort in the familiarity of herhome and the couch she'd currently flopped down on. "There's an endlessamount of creepy islands, and at least one of them has to have had somethinglike this."

"It might, but the closest I know of is the one with themonster livestock." Kate huffs, flipping through several pages beforeglancing back up at her, one eyebrow quirked. "I don't know about all the isles, you know."

It's an odd admission of relative weakness, coming from someonewho was, and occasionally still is, so ready to seem smarmily all-knowing andall-powerful.

"It would be too convenient if you did." Quinn's wordsare slower, clunkier and more careful as she tries to keep her teeth fromsnagging on some part of her mouth. She's not successful, already aching cheeknearly sliced by the largest and sharpest tooth.

She doesn't cry out in frustration or pain this time, insteadgrimacing as her mouth clamps shut, but it doesn't stop Kate from leveling heran unimpressed look.

"You really just want to tear your mouth apart, don'tyou?"

"...I didn't think I'd be jealous of monster farm animals,but at least they got the transformation part over with quickly. I think we'dhave noticed if they were just slowly becoming devil cows."

Kate grins briefly, teeth half showing as she pauses.

"It's possible. Most of you were more focused on buildingyour shelter-- and Durango's hardly that observant." There's a pause,obviously intended to allow for or to signal a reaction, and she gets one,Quinn not quite catching her huff of agreement in time. Kate's smile shifts,fading almost entirely as she shakes her head, turning another page. "Partof what made the island a fun choice was the drama of their quick shifts. Idon't know if I've seen or heard of any situation drawn out like yours."

(Quinn ignores the unspoken, doesn't try to think about whatZed's own transformation was like or how much of it Kate witnessed.

She's glad it was quick.)

"What, inconvenient and painful? We've all been therebefore."

Quinn's smile is tired, strained, and weak.

"Not like this." Kate's smile is nonexistent as sheshakes her head. "Those were all fairly temporary or brief situations, andcertainly never required this much energy or set up."

There's a biting comment to be made there, about how Kate's workwas cut out for her in the first "season" thanks to her command blockand how they had even less time in the second one thanks to Poseidon and his,but Quinn doesn't miss the subtext or the way Kate worries her lower lipbetween her teeth.

As over dramatic as Kate likes being, the action and theunderlying anxiety are too subdued and too realto reassure her any.

"Wait, wait." Quinn's voice doesn't waver, smile hardeninginto something firm and far less smile-like, brow pinching together even as shekeeps the confusion and panic out of her voice because Quinn hasn't gonethrough so much, grown as a person and pushed through everything that's beenthrown at her and her friends, just to panic over a possibility. That's notsomething a leader does, no matter how justified or worn out. "It could bepermanent?"

The possibility is still terrifying.

Her attempt to straighten up further is met by a hand pressingflat against her torso, Kate's book forgotten on the table and Zed also on hisfeet, several steps away from Kate.

"Lie down."Kate's pushing doesn't have the force to actually stop Quinn from sitting up,but her look does, her sunglasses having shifted just far enough down her noseagain for Quinn to see how tired she looks, far enough for Kate to look whollyunimpressed down at Quinn over her sunglasses. "You're not doing yourselfany favors by getting worked up over what might happen. It's a guess, and it'snot exactly my best one- I haven't gotten a chance to talk to many werewolves.Maybe the first shift, or turning, or whatever, is supposed to be long. Yourbody's never done it before."

Kate's grins are as flashy as ever, but Quinn's seen enough toknow when they're just that, all flash and no substance.

There's no audience to show them off for, though, and while Katemight be doing it to try and put Quinn at ease, or even both her and Zed, theyseem more to try and comfort herself, and her explanation sounds more tired andoff the cuff than equally orchestrated and bold.

It's a scary thought.

(Also not helping is that, for the first time since coming here,something's drowning out the scent of rotting flesh. As happy as Quinn could bethat her improving sense of smell isn't flooded by Zed, the new scent's hardlybetter, and while Quinn could try and claim that her growing hunger is just dueto the transformation, because rotting flesh making her stomach gnaw and achethe way it does is gross, it's harder to ignore how the new smell makes hermouth water.

Quinn thinks it's fear, strong and almost unbearably tasty, andshe doubts it's her own. She swallows, and hopes Kate thinks it's because ofany number of doubts not related to eating Kate or Zed alive.

Something inside her is hungry, ravenous and demanding as ittears at her from the inside, and she shoves it down like the animal it is.)

"Kate, we don't even know what I'm becoming." Kate'sseriousness is off-putting, and Quinn gingerly attempts another dry grin, carefulnot to smile too widely as she relaxes, reclining again until Kate pulls herhand back. "Beyond something with stupidly sharp teeth."

"And we don't know if there's a cure, or how long thetransformation's supposed to last, or even how you'll act once it'scomplete." Kate might be tired of her own solemnity, tone more aloof asshe brushes her hair back, examining her nails afterwards with a sly smile."I really don't want to think about you attacking me in my house all alonein the woods. I don't even have neighbors who could react and be properlytraumatized."

"How inconvenient for you." And Quinn, terrified ofbeing stuck in another form, of losing who she is mentally, of wanting to eather friends, revels in the simple act of rolling her eyes. "I promise if Ikill you I'll try to make it more... sensational. Publicly disturbing?"

Another joking offer, light in tone and waved off by Kate.

"Oh, there are few things more disturbing than finding awerewolf den in a dead person's home." Kate lowers her hand, leaningagainst the couch's arm rest, and begins eyeing the nails on her other one."I'd just like to stir up some sympathy before I die."

It's taken a lot of work to get Kate to admit she wantssympathy-- emotional involvement-- just as much as, if not more than, sheerattention.

Quinn can cherish that later.

"Sounds like a deal." It's too much to sit with insilence, and she forces herself to push through the lingering levity, shouldersrelaxing against the couch cushion once again as she looks up at Kate."...you have actually useful potions stored up, right?"

"No, I just buy potion ingredients and shiny vials forfun."

The potion ingredients are more for bragging and shelf decorinside their own jars, Kate's knowledge of making things for herself slowlyincreasing but still sparse, while the potions and elixirs are as useful asthey are shiny and expensive, only the occasional bottle filled with a glitteryparty favor type brew.

Quinn's not looking to sparkle.

"I'll pay you back- or get the ingredients and help teachyou how to make a new one that's just as good- but if you think there's achance I'll hurt you, there's no harm in giving me a weakness potion or twobefore the transformation really gets underway."

"Because drugging you isn't going to have any serious sideeffects mid-transformation."

Kate's tone isn't any less critical, as easy to shrug off asQuinn finds it. Acting weird beats acting homicidal, or predatory, or whateverharming Kate or Zed would count as post-transformation.

"Better if I'm loopy than you dead. What, afraid I mightend up chewing on one of your shoes?"

It's the wrong thing to say.

Kate's finger ends up jabbed against Quinn's chest again, andfrankly Quinn thinks she's the one who ought to sound exasperated after all theprodding. Kate pulls off the unpleased air well, though.

"Quinn, you coulddie if the transformation goes wrong. What if it makes your bones reshapewrong? Or messes with your organs when they move?"

For all her huffiness, Kate sounds legitimately concerned.

Quinn wants to mourn the painkillers she'll be needing but notgetting, but staying alive is a slightly higher priority.

"Alright, then chain me up."

Kate blinks at her, sharing an uneasy glance with Zed, beforecrossing her arms.

"We do have someleft over from a challenge we never got to start. Fine. The things I do forfriends." For you, morespecific, goes unsaid, and it works well enough. There maybe wouldn't be asmuch banter, between Kate and any of their other friends, but it's easy enoughto imagine her chaining them up, for both her sake and theirs.

(Unfairly easy, given prior, but far less constricting,imprisonment.

Quinn guesses she's lucky enough that Kate doesn't considertossing her in one of her more (but not entirely) secured obsidian prisons, asmuch as most of her trusts Kate more than that by this point.)

"Hey, friends who give you attention and keep you fromgoing stir crazy out here."

"It's amazing- I think you've finally shown me that thereare some types of attention I can live without. People desperately coming to mefor help and with worries about dying is one of them."

"I'll pay you back for that later too."

"You will." Rather than getting poked or shoved again,Kate settles for giving her a pointed look. It feels similar enough."Because you're going to transform back after the night's over, withoutmaiming me, and I'll be waiting for my payment. You better craft me something nice."

It shouldn't be a tall order; Quinn'll see to making sure thatit isn't, that things go that well without any of this coming back to bite atKate.

(Literally. Even taking murder or massive physical trauma offthe table, Quinn has no current interest in making Kate whatever she'sbecoming, in making her go through this kind of aching, throbbing pain orconstant background worrying about her own fate.

Whatever she becomes might feel differently about having packmates, but that's tough for later-Quinn.

They'll do their best to make sure it's not an option.)

[thecookiewrites]

On The Road: A Clementine and AJ One Shot

Rating: M

Characters: Clementine and AJ

Trigger Warnings: Some profanity and gore

Summary: Clementine and her goofball, AJ have to face what’s along the road in their run-down car. (Before the events of the Final Season)

On the road, two walkers feasted on an animal. It was almost picked clean as bones stuck out against the sunlight while they slurped up the intestines.  Clem stopped the car far away so the dead wouldn’t notice them. Her face scrunched in disgust at the sight while AJ popped his head to the front to get a good look at what she was seeing.

“Ew. What are they eating?” AJ asked while resting his chin on her shoulder.

“I think it’s a rabbit.” Clementine said, “That could’ve been our source of food for the night.” She sighed, pushing the intense growling her stomach released.

“The monsters ruin everything…” AJ sat back in his seat. Clem saw his eyes lower in disappointment from the rearview mirror and turned around with a smile.

“Hey, I’m sure there’s better food somewhere else. Cheer up, goofball.” She giggled as she tickled his ribs, making him laugh while trying to push her away.

“Okay, okay.” His smile was one of the few things that kept Clementine going. Something she had to protect, to her last breath. She got out of the rusty car, gripping the knife in her hand. Clem looked around at the woodsy atmosphere for walkers. None that she could see or hear nearby, besides the ones in the street, but she still had to be careful.

“Be my eyes and ears while I go take care of those two.” She said to AJ, who moved to the passenger’s seat. He nodded, holding up his small gun at the ready. To be honest, Clem didn’t like leaving AJ out of her line of sight, but he was a good lookout and an even better shot.

Clem whistled, getting the attention of the walkers. They got up, their decomposed mouths covered with rabbit blood and bits of intestines. One was a dead woman in a torn wedding dress and the other wore an old police uniform. Man, it’s been a while since she’s seen those uniforms.

Aim for the legs, then take out the brain. Clementine kicked the police officer in the knees, knocking him down on the ground before finishing with a final blow.

The one in the wedding dress created complications as her dress was big enough to protect her knees. Clem backed away as she figured out a plan that didn’t involve getting her face chewed off. Nothing in sight for her to use, besides the police guard’s body.

“There’s another one coming!” AJ alarmed her from the car, pointing at the new walker who was coming out of the woods.

“Got it!” Clem maneuvered and led the bride towards the guard. The walker bride tripped over the corpse’s body, hitting her head against the pavement. That didn’t stop her as she crawled towards Clem’s legs. Clementine sent the knife straight through her skull, wiping the blood on her dress.

The walker that AJ warned her of, suddenly came up from behind, knocking Clementine down on the ground. She quickly turned around, backing away while searching for her knife. The walker got on top of her, it’s rotting flesh wrinkling her nose in disgust. Clementine used her strength to try and push it away from her neck. It was heavier than she thought, her arms burning at the sensation. She gritted her teeth and used all of her strength to push it off of her, getting up to go back and get her knife.

A gunshot went off as Clem looked back at the source. AJ had got out of the car, shooting the heavy walker in the head. He lowered his gun, running to Clem and hugging her tight.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Thanks.” She hugged him back, “Nice shot, kiddo.”

“I have a pretty great teacher.” AJ pulled away while looking up at her with a smile.

The duo hurried up and went back to their car, driving away before any more walkers could show up. Their quest for food continued and was becoming difficult as time went on. Most of the food they’ve discovered had been spoiled or contaminated by walkers. Good thing they had water, but it wasn’t food.

Sunlight slowly diminished and Clem was running out of options. She couldn’t keep driving along this road as there was a possibility that they wouldn’t see anything by nightfall. But they were hungry.

“Why can’t we eat grass?” AJ asked while he stared out of the window. “Maybe it doesn’t taste that bad…”

Clem snorted, refraining from crying her eyes out from laughter as she was driving.

“We can’t eat grass, goofball. I forgot why but I think it has to do with our stomachs.”

“Have you tried eating grass, Clem?”

“Nooooo,” Clem then glanced up at the rearview mirror with an eyebrow raised, “have you?”

For a moment, she saw AJ’s eyes dart around in suspicion, not making eye contact with her. He then scoffed, continuing to look out the window.

“No...”

Clementine shook her head, her eyes focusing on the road before seeing a woman walk across the road. She was limping, carrying a backpack. She stopped the car as the woman’s eyes came into contact with her vehicle.

“H-Help me! Please!” She waved her arms around. “I-I don’t know where to go!” Clem to see that her face was covered with blood stains while her right pant cuff was torn. Her blonde hair was tangled and caked with dirt. And she was skinny like she hasn’t eaten in days.

“What should we do?” AJ asked, peering over Clem’s shoulder again.

“I’ll go out and talk to her. Have your gun on hand, just in case.” Clementine had her knife on the ready, not knowing what that woman was up to.

“Will she hurt us?” He wondered, his brown eyes bore into hers.

“I don’t know...She looks weak but it could be a ruse.” Clem squinted her eyes as the blonde woman constantly looked around in fear.

“I won’t hurt you. I just need a ride away from here!”

Clementine got out of the car, one hand behind her back and her guard up. The sun was slowly setting and AJ and she had not even found a place to sleep yet. She had to make this quick.

“Who are you?” Clem asked.

“Y-You’re a young girl…” The woman appeared to be shocked, her green eyes wide.

“Who are you?” Clementine insisted. If this woman had plans to go after her or AJ, she would gladly be mistaken.

“I’m Cindy. I had just run away from a camp nearby, but I need a ride somewhere so they won’t track me. Please…” She slowly limped towards Clementine, who pulled out her knife as a warning.

“A camp? You were with some people?” Clem had a bad feeling about this. “Why do you look like that then? If you were with people, then they would’ve had food. Kept you fed.”

“They had found some of my supplies I was stashing when I was planning to run away before. They locked me up and decided to starve me for almost a week. Please… Take me with you.” Cindy crept towards her again.

Clementine was unsure what to do. Sure, she could take Cindy along, but she didn’t know about her group. Why was she planning to escape? What kind of people was she dealing with? If she had let her in, there would be a possibility that her group would follow them and hurt AJ. But it was also possible that woman had food. And AJ needed to eat or else they’ll go another night starving.

“...alright.” Clem sighed, “Sit in the front seat. I’ll put your bag in the trunk.”

“Oh thank you!” The woman almost dropped to her knees to praise her. “You’re a gift from the heavens.” Clem took her bag and led her to the passenger seat, helping her into the car before pausing as she observed the torn on her pant leg. Her eyes widened as she saw a bite on her ankle.

“You’re bitten!” Clem said.

“W-What? No, it’s not a bite. I-I’m not infected!” Cindy frantically looked at her ankle. “A dog bit me! I swear!” She said as she stared straight into Clem’s eyes.

“I know what a dog bite looks like.” Clem pulled up her left sleeve, showing the nasty scar she got when she was eleven. “You’re not fooling me.”

“No! Please, take me with you! I won’t turn yet, just take me a mile away from here!” She grabbed Clementine by the jacket, jostling her around in desperation. The action made her drop the backpack before Clem pushed her away, pulling out her gun and aiming it at her head.

“Go, I’m not having you bite my kid.”

“T-Take me before they--” A bullet went straight through Cindy’s eyes, making her drop to the ground. Her blood splattered on Clementine’s face, bullets whizzing by her ears before she had a chance to drop down against the car.

“We got two more in that old ass car, boys!” A man with a deep, commanding accent shouted. The men placed themselves on one side of the woods, the impending dark giving Clementine a hard time to see anybody.  Bullets continued to hit the car as Clem opened the driver's seat. AJ pointed the gun at her head, before lowering when he saw it was her.

“Get in the back seat and buckle up.” Clem rushed. AJ did as he was told while Clementine noticed the unattended bag by Cindy’s corpse. She had to grab it as that could be the key to her and AJ’s salvation. Walker growls made the hair at the nape of her neck stand up. Clem looked behind the car to see a bunch of them come out from the trees, the gunshot sounds attracting their attention. Most of them made their way towards the sound while two decided to approach the car.

Clem had to hurry.

She tightened the hat on her head, eyes on the bag while waiting for the right moment.

“What the fuck?” One of the shooters shouted as they diverted their attention to the incoming walkers. Clementine quickly ran out and grabbed the bag from the road, running back to the car. A walker was a foot distance away from the car before Clem stepped on the gas and drove away from the scene.

Clementine didn’t stop until the adrenaline stopped coursing through her veins, steadying her heart before looking back at AJ.

“You okay?” AJ simply nodded, his lips forming a pout. “What’s wrong?”

“...did those men kill her because she was turning into a monster?” Clem bit her lip because she didn’t know what to say. Her mind didn’t realize that AJ saw the gory detail of a woman getting shot in the head. It happened so fast. And Clem still had blood on her face.

“I...don’t know, kiddo.” She said while wiping the blood off with her jacket, “That woman had issues with those men before she got bitten.”

“Are they going to come after us? If they do, I can protect us, including the car. I’ll sleep with one eye open.”

Clementine chuckled, “You don’t have to worry about that. I’ll keep us safe.” She glanced up at the rearview mirror and gave him a satisfied look. Clem didn’t realize how dark it was on the road. With no street lights around, AJ and she would have to park somewhere and rest for the night.

“Hey, see if there’s anything useful in here.” Clem gave AJ the backpack, crossing her fingers if there were at least some cans that would last for a few days.

“All I see is...a gun, two water bottles, 5 cans of beans and...a book.”

Clem relaxed her shoulders when she heard food, “Good. We won’t starve tonight.”

[owlaholic68]

You weren’t like this yesterday- Chapter 3 Alternate Ending Version

Go read the bad ending here. Inspired by an idea I had combined with a comment from @thedesertdancer. Warnings: abusive relationship, minor character death. 

To an outsider, nothing is wrong.

But Goris has been travelling with them for less than a day, and he’s always prided himself on being observant. He sees, but he doesn’t understand.

At first, he writes it off as over-protectiveness. He doesn’t know much about humans, but he’s seen parents and children. But when he tries to overlay that model over Carla and Lenny, it doesn’t quite fit. There’s a paranoia in the way Carla watches their surroundings. Even Goris himself feels her surveying him constantly, tensing up when he gets too close to Lenny.

Maybe it’s love. He’d read about that, and at first it seems like it fits. Carla keeps Lenny close and is very tactile, always holding his hand or sitting with him in her arms. And Lenny reciprocates, but he’s shyer about it.

But when Goris accidentally bumps into Lenny when the group is getting into an elevator, he realizes that he’s not shy. He’s scared.

When Goris brushes him with his huge body and Lenny stumbles, Carla immediately rounds on the deathclaw.

“I’m sorry, C-Carla,” Lenny immediately blurts, grabbing her arm. Goris, ever observant, notices that Carla’s hand is on her gun, and that Lenny’s eyes are a little too wide, too pleading. “It was just- I just tripped over his foot. I’m- see, I’m fine, really.” Carla buys the lie, but Goris doesn’t understand why Lenny even lied about something that simple. He had jumped so quickly to Goris’ defense, as if…as if Lenny had known that the situation was going to turn dangerous. Carla had had her hand on her gun. For something as simple as an accident. Goris resolves to watch himself more closely, to avoid any further accidents.

He could have written off Lenny’s reaction as nervousness, a precaution to guard against Carla’s quick temper. But then they stopped for the night, parking the Highwayman under an outcropping of rock.

“I’ll be fine laying on the hood,” Goris assures them. He might be able to sit in the backseat of the car, but he’d rather sleep under the stars. The car is still warm, and Goris curls up on the smooth metal, quickly finding himself comfortable. Curious, he keeps one golden eye open to watch Carla and Lenny, who are sitting in the backseat.

They put the seat down so there’s enough room, then Carla takes something out one of her pockets. Lenny seems surprised, but says nothing. He doesn’t seem to say a lot. He turns his back to Carla, and Goris hears a series of soft clicks. He raises his head a little to see better, and is confused at what he sees. Lenny turns back to Carla, a pair of thin handcuffs keeping his arms behind his back.

“I got those for you from the Vault,” she whispers. “I know you didn’t find the rope very comfortable, but you were too sweet to complain.”

Goris doesn’t understand. This is not a normal human thing, as far as he’s concerned. And he’s not naïve, he’s heard of rituals like this for more…intimate purposes, but that doesn’t seem to fit. Why do humans use those things? The Vault computer recommended them for criminals, or to keep someone prisoner. But Lenny doesn’t seem concerned or upset, or even trying to escape.

Carla kisses him and Goris feels like he’s intruding, and he closes his eye and settles in to sleep.

“I love you,” she whispers. “Good night.”

As he falls asleep, Goris isn’t sure he hears Lenny’s reply correctly. That can’t have been what he said.

“Thank you, C-Carla. I love you too.”

This routine continues for two more days.

They run into a pack of giant mantises, and Carla and Goris easily fight them off. Lenny stays in the car. Goris thinks that it’s from cowardice, then he realizes that the ghoul’s not even armed. Who walks this wasteland with not so much as a knife on them?

It doesn’t matter much, though. Carla eviscerates the enemies, and Goris watches her back and makes sure none of them surround her. When all of the mantises are crushed to dust, Carla opens the passenger side door and Lenny wraps his arms around her. Goris pretends he’s not watching, inspecting his claws and idly scratching them on a rock.

“You did- that was real great, C-Carla.”

She kisses up and down his neck, murmuring things he can’t hear. Lenny doesn’t say anything else, stroking Carla’s hair and ignoring the mantis blood covering her body. They stay like that for a few minutes, until Carla kisses him one last time and smiles. Lenny smiles back, but Goris’ sharp eyes can see his hands shaking. In fear, or…something else? He almost looks relieved, or happy. Carla waves the deathclaw over, and Goris climbs back into the backseat. I can’t understand these humans and their contradictory emotions.

Goris has never seen San Francisco before, but he’s seen pictures of the Golden Gate Bridge. He doesn’t quite remember there being any mention of a spaceship parked on it, but at least the rusting red columns are familiar. He’s so absorbed with looking up at the towering wreck of a monument, he almost runs into Carla and Lenny, who have abruptly stopped in front of the stairs to the Hubologist’s bunker.

“Len,” Carla says, holding Lenny’s wrist instead of his hand.

“I’m sorry,” he stutters. “Please, C-Carla, can I- may I wait up here, with- maybe with Goris?”

“No, you may not. You’re going down there with me, okay?” Carla leans in close and Lenny flinches. “Don’t you trust me, Len?”

“Yes.” Lenny immediately replies, staring down at his feet. “It’s just that- they, they’re scary, C-Carla, and, and they-” Goris sees for the first time that Lenny’s not just scared of Carla; he’s terrified of her.

“Len,” Carla growls, “I don’t want to hear your fucking whining, remember?” He nods and sniffles, tears welling up in his eyes. “Oh, Len, don’t cry,” Carla wipes away the tears that drip down onto his hollow cheeks. “It’s going to be okay, I won’t let them hurt you. You remember I said that, right?”

Goris is getting emotional whiplash from this conversation, but some pieces are starting to come together. Lenny’s too scared of her. I thought she would never hurt him, but I don’t think he’d be like this if all she did was yell at him. Speaking of which, she’s apparently told him to shut up before. Goris thinks about how little Lenny says, and how much of what he does say is compliments, or apologies, or the “I love you” that he says every night before going to bed. He goes to bed handcuffed. She doesn’t let him out of her sight. He isn’t allowed to argue with her. Why doesn’t he just leave if she treats him so badly?

After Carla has calmed Lenny down, they enter the Hubologist’s bunker. She asks Goris to wait outside, and that suits him just fine. The tight corridors of the bunker would be cramped and uncomfortable for him.

The waiting gives him time to think.

Goris hates Wanamingos. The monsters are slippery and tough, and he’s seen one slap a deathclaw and send it flying ten feet.

Carla takes down a few, and Goris manages to get a couple himself. Lenny, as always, is in the car, ducked down in the seat. There are two monsters left when Carla grunts, and Lenny screams something. Goris turns and sees Carla face-down in the dirt. There’s no blood, but she doesn’t get back up, fully unconscious. The Wanamingo over her screeches and flaps its tentacles.

Goris swipes at the monster in front of him, and when he turns, Lenny is out of the car and skidding to his knees at Carla’s side. He ducks a swing from the abomination and pulls out a small pistol from Carla’s back pocket. He shakily shoots and misses, and has to duck again. Goris finishes his fight and turns in time to see the Wanamingo fall dead. Lenny drops the gun.

“Is she okay?” Goris asks, jogging over to them. Lenny turns Carla over and inspects her head, nodding and relaxing.

“Just- it’s just a concussion. Must have- it must have hit her in the head.” He shows Goris the sizeable lump forming near her temple, then rummages in one of Carla’s pockets and pulls out a Stimpack. He gently injects it into her neck. “We should go. The- I can drive the car for a little-little bit, there’s- I know of an abandoned shack nearby.”

Why doesn’t he just run? Goris wonders. She can’t stop him. He seems to actually care about her, though. It still doesn’t make sense. These two defy everything I’ve ever read about humans. He grunts in agreement and helps Lenny pick up Carla and settle her in the passenger seat. Then Lenny turns the keys in the ignition and starts driving away from the bloody battleground.

They drive for five minutes before Lenny breaks the silence.

“Don’t- don’t tell her I killed that thing, please,” he quietly says. “I’m going to say that you killed- that you took care of them all, and that she must- I guess she must have lost my- the spare gun when she fell.”

“Okay,” Goris rumbles. “Why would you lie about that, though?”

Lenny fidgets with the steering wheel. “She’d get real worried- real afraid if she knew I- that I’d been in a fight. I don’t want to- to scare her like that.”

Goris can’t help but comment, “because she’d hurt you, right?”

Lenny flinches. “She’s right, though. I- I’m just a doctor, I’d get hurt, I- I can’t- I’m too weak.” His voice trails away. “She’s right.”

Goris doesn’t say anything. They pull up to a rotting shack and Lenny stops the car. Together, they set Carla down on the dusty floor. Lenny sets her bag next to her and drapes a blanket over her body. He looks at the door, then back down at her unconscious form.

“Why don’t you just leave?” Goris asks. “She wouldn’t be able to find you.”

“She would,” Lenny whispers, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. “And I- I don’t know, I can’t just leave. She- we- we do things together, Goris. And she- she’s not bad to me, she wouldn’t have to- to protect me like this if I didn’t keep messing up.”

“That’s why she’s like that, then? You messed up and made her mad one time?”

Lenny nods and rummages through Carla’s bag. He pulls out the handcuffs and sets them in his lap. “Y-yeah, almost a- probably a month ago. I didn’t – I didn’t trust her, and I worried too- too much about things she said- that she told me not to worry about. But she did that because she,” he smiles, eyes soft, “because she loves me, and because she- she wants to protect me.”

“And do you love her?” Goris asks. I’ve read about Stockholm Syndrome before. And abuse. And Lenny could be the example of learned helplessness in the Vault medical dictionary. He can’t realize that when you really love someone, you don’t hurt them.

Lenny fastens the handcuffs around one of bony hands, locking the other one in place behind his back by jamming it against the wall of the shack. He lays next to Carla and snuggles under her arm so it’s wrapped around him.

“Yes, I do,” he murmurs. “I love – I love her so much.” He smiles and closes his eyes, tucking his head under Carla’s and matching her breathing.

Goris watches and waits until he falls asleep, then stands up. I’m not sure I can just let them continue like this. Even unconscious, Carla curls around Lenny. They seem to be fine with it, but it’s not healthy. It’s not safe, not for either of them. Codependency doesn’t equal love.

Carla doesn’t look dangerous like this, but Goris has travelled with her long enough to know that one look from her is lethal. And Lenny looks peaceful and happy like this, but during the daytime he’s nothing but stuttering and placating apologies.

Goris brushes a knife-sharp claw at the base of Carla’s throat. She doesn’t stir. Goris hesitates. The abandoned shack is dark and still. Lenny would never let me rescue him. I think she’s taken him too far, so completely brainwashed him to believe everything she’s ever told him. Goris raises his claw. This is all I can do for him.

He brings his claws down: once, twice.

And then he walks away into the silent night.

[themanicdepressivelesbian]

I just want to connect with something. I've lost touch with myself, with everything around me. I have no idea how to go back now. I don't know how to bring happiness back into my life. I don't remember what it even feels like. I have no sense of accomplishment. Like I'm continuously climbing up an escalator that just goes down. Each step forward, I take two steps back. Every step I take that leads me up, pulls me further down. Endlessly I walk, it just never stops. When I finally hit the bottom, I try again, but I get no further than my last attempt, nor the attempt prior to that. What am I doing? Where am I going? Am I just where I belong already? No, that can't be right.. can it? This can't possibly be what I'm destined to do or become. Or is it? Repeating the same things over and over again expecting a different outcome. That means insanity, doesn't it? So is that what I am? Just insane? I keep trying and trying. Pushing and pulling, but I make no progress. It's the same outcome every time. I don't even know what's real anymore. My memories are so diluted with things my brain remembers, but no one else seems to remember it the same. Maybe I'm not even myself at this point. Maybe my anxiety and my depression have taken such a strong hold onto who I am, what I am.. that I just can't tell the difference from fantasy, reality, and pure fear. I'd love to pretend even for a moment that I knew if there was truth in that. Maybe there is, but I'll never know. Maybe none of this is really even real. Maybe one of those times I took a whole bottle of ibuprofen really did end it. Maybe I'm in some weird dream comq/purgatory state. Angie could be the nurse that tends to my body everyday in the hospital, checking my vitals but drifting further every day because after all this time even she lost faith that I'll ever recover from what I've done. Maybe those memories I have are my semi conscious body dealing with the visits from the people who check on me, ie my mother. I'm not remembering that she was never there. She's just become so spare and distant when she comes and talks to my half dead, half alive body as it lays on that hospital bed. Drifting further away from her reality because of what her little girl did to her. They say that when your brain shuts down, it essentially give a a brief playback of all the memories you've acquired over your life. Like a movie. I know I read that somewhere. So maybe all of these things I'm remembering about being so alone, forgotten and ignored are really because my brain is shutting down and playing through all of those memories but no one is at my hospital bed as they play. So this is what I remember now. I'm alone in these moments. No one caresses my body anymore because they all know it'll come down to pulling the plug.

Let's return to the purgatory idea. I'm dead already. The bad memories and things that make me lash out are really Satan and his followers convincing me to believe, accept, and yearn for the misery, hate, vengeance anger and fear that hell brings. Angie is my guardian angel trying to lead me back to the light, to heaven. But still giving me freedom to follow my own desires.

This is all genuinely bull shit, isn't it? Just me trying to make excuses as to why things are the way they are. Or maybe this message is really my brain giving my epitaph, speaking for myself at my soon to be funeral. Death. That's all that comes in the end, isn't it. For all of us too, no one can escape it. It doesn't matter how you live, what you did while you lived. It doesn't matter who you were, where you went. It comes for all of us. That's the funny thing about death you know, honestly. As humans we think we are all so different. But it all ends in the same thing. No one truly lives forever. No matter whose theory of what happens after death is true. Whether or not we are reincarnated, go to heaven or hell, or even just rot in the ground for all eternity. We all have a beginning. Just like a story. That's all we are. Stories. Some are good, some are bad. Some change half way through, some have a huge turning point in them. But they all end.

It really makes you wonder honestly, what makes living so important, if no matter how we live, it all ends the same way. When life has no purpose, you're dead already. Right? Or at least you wish you were, as is my case. But the only thing, as sad as it is mind you, that keeps me going is thinking about how hard and unfair it would be to have to put someone else through explaining why I'm not here, or where I went. It chokes me up when I think of my niece asking my mother "where's Sammi?" And wishfully thinking shed choke up with tears trying to explain to someone so young why their aunt is no longer with us. What do you tell someone that young when they ask? I've always had such a great understanding of love and loss, compassion, empathy. I don't remember a time when I didn't know what it meant if someone killed themselves. But maybe that's part of my problem. I grew up in a time where death was so casual. I grew up with religion, but enough freedom to have my own thoughts and opinions on the matter as well. Constantly raised on the idea of "it could be worse" and not the idea of "it should be better". Not just for me, but for everyone. I almost see someone sitting across from me just discussing this with me. Like I'm having a real conversation right now. But I'm not. Not even in the slightest. I'll admit the idea definitely makes me feel less lonely though.

One thing a lot of people don't realize about me is that I love to talk. I may not be too good at it, but I really do love to just talk. To connect. No one likes to talk about the things I like to talk about though. Not on this level I guess. But then, that's why I have this. This Tumblr thing. It's silly really. I just come here to have one sided conversations with myself, but it gives me a bit of hope that someone else who just needs to read or chat might stumble across this and maybe find a bit of peace in what I type. Might realize that they aren't so alone in this world, you know? So if you are reading this, you're not alone. Trust me.

Now let's see. There's so much I want to type. I just keep rambling off topic here though.

Ah, let's go back to Angie here. I love her. I do. She's everything to me. But it's all so different now. When we started dating, we had so much to talk about. Everything was so new and exciting. It sounds really wrong when I say it out loud. True love is never easy though, is it? I wouldn't know honestly, unless this is true love. Then I guess I do know. It is hard. It's hard as fuck to love someone so much and always question if they actually love you in return. After all, we have nothing in common. No common interests. She's an extrovert, an adventurer. She's brave, and strong. And here I am. A crumbling, lonely introvert who can't connect with a single human being anymore. The problem is me, I know that. But the bigger problem is I have no idea how to change myself.

How do I become more suited to her needs, to become a better person for her? I tried talking to her again in bed tonight and all she could say was we aren't doing this now, but I need to know. I don't know what to do at this point. I can't do this anymore. I've just.. lost touch. With everything. Everyone. I keep trying to reconnect with my best friend. The one person who has never left me through all of the hell I've been through, and I've always done the same to her. But now she's on the other side of the country. We barely speak. She was the only person I opened up to. The only person I could be completely honest with and know she wouldn't judge me for it. But maybe her being this far away from me finally opened her eyes up to the fact that I'm not worth the headache that I am. She's moved on, I get it. I guess I would have too, if I was her. She left me and I shut everyone out. When I realized she could move on from the friendship we had, I guess I gave up on friendships in general. Relationships in general. If she could "move on" from me that easily when given the opportunity, everyone else would leave me too. Right? So I did the only sane thing my brain saw. I pushed everyone else out before they could do it to me. It's all my fault. I know it is. And that's what makes it so hard. I wish I could blame all of this on someone or something else. But I can't. I did it to myself. It's no ones fault but my own that I am where I am. Who I am, how I am. I shaped it all. Whether it was me without my anxiety, my depression, whatever "inner" factor it was. It's still me. My anxiety, my depression and anger, they are all parts of me. They've all shaped me. They've made me, well, me. I'm going to get hell for this. Or maybe someone might actually try to think of this from my point of view here.. probably not though.

Let's go back to insanity here for a moment. You can judge me as harshly as you wish for this, but I see things. Creepy things, scary things. Things that make me want to cry in an instant. They paralyze me in a moment of fear. Things I wouldn't want anyone else to see. It's surreal honestly. And terrifying. I hear voices. Internally mostly, but some I swear are external too. So maybe that is all that this is in the end. I'm just bat shit fucking crazy. The dark terrifies me because of this though. Silence terrifies me because of it. It started a long, long time ago if we're being honest. With night terrors. The same man appeared in my dreams every night. I didn't even want to sleep because of it. But my parents always just assumed I was being a kid. There's days I wouldn't go to school, I'd say I was sick (guess I wasn't technically wrong there, butbthe wrong kind of sick) and it was really just The fact that I couldn't stand the thought of seeing those things, unable and unaware of how to control it or ignore it at such a young age. I've gotten a lot better at it though. I must be crazy, right? Fucking probably at this point.

I just want answers at this point. Something, anything. I wish I had the power to change all of these things wrong with me. I wish I had the strength to think about a future, instead of constantly wishing for a bullet. I just want of this to end. Do any of you out there feel this way? Who the hell am i even kidding at this point. Very few of you made it this far, but that's okay too. This was for me. Not for you. I just needed to get this shit off my chest. I feel the walls closing in on me. I just wish o was better at actually talking about these things

Or maybe that I can actually afford the help I needed again. Or maybe this is just the end of the line, just a matter of time before the last grain of sand passes through the hour glass of my lifetime. I don't know what to do, honestly. How do you get better at actually talking about these .. Things? Everyone is iust so quick to judge when I talk about this stuff. They try to twist and turn and mangle my words. Most people turn the so to speak attention to themselves. Most people just don't understand. I guess that's another reason I type all of these things, maybe someone might finally understand. I wouldn't expect anyone too, and I'd never ask of someone to take a step in my shoes for a minute and never for a mile. No one deserves to feel the way I feel in my head, yet so many of us do. This, this is my weakness. My heart on my sleeve. I can not talk face to face, so I open up like this instead. Hoping it helps the people around me, the ones who care, to actually understand me. I love you all, even if I have a hard time expressing it.

I'm going to stop now, I've typed enough for one Damned night. My brain is exhausted.