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mayhem24-7forever · 3 years ago

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Lose You Too - Chapter Two: Bear on a Unicycle

Flag!Reader x Adrian Chase/Vigilante

Author’s Notes: Sorry for the delay on this one besties, life went a little sideways (once again) but good news! I am posting chapter two tonight and chapter three tomorrow! As I always say with my NSFW content, if you’re a minor and you read my content I swear to fucking dilf Superman himself I will find out and block you. Do not test me. Don’t forget to read the other parts! Prologue and Chapter One here

Also! HUGE thank you/dedicated to my fellow Vig authors and friends @lunaticsandidiots and @leaf-dont-leav for beta reading this for me because DAMN am I rusty at this.

Warnings: female/afab reader (she/her pronouns), ANGST, mention of canon character death, grief, canon-level violence, swearing/strong language, spoilers for The Suicide Squad (Gunn, 2021) and Peacemaker (Gunn, 2022), alcohol usage, drunk assholes being aggressive in their pickup techniques, harassment, sexual harassment, bar fights, smut, light fingering, penis in vagina sex (I don’t explicitly say whether they use a condom or not but please remember to wrap it before you tap it), being loud af while rough fucking, gun violence, nightmares, hurt/comfort, some fluff (as a lil treat)

After texting Adrian for a few days, Y/N felt confident in saying that he was definitely more than fond of the merman emoji, if anything, he overused it. He used it in place of every other emoji because according to him “it’s like every emotion ever!” which she found endearing, even if it meant she often had to ask for clarification on what he was trying to say. So when her phone lit up with a notification from him, she wasn't surprised to see “just got here 🧜‍♂️” followed by an immediate “p.s. the 🧜‍♂️ means I’m excited for tonight”. She smiled and quickly sent back a reply of “on my way down!”

Sticking her phone in her purse, she looked in the mirror to evaluate how she looked. Adrian had asked her out on their first date and she wanted to look nice, even if they were just going to a cheap sports bar that had, according to Adrian, ‘the best fucking loaded waffle fries you’ve ever had’ and ‘this special drink that tastes like cotton candy and vodka had a baby’. Deciding she was as ready as she’d ever be, she grabbed a jacket and headed out the door.

Downstairs, she found Adrian, dressed nicely, leaning against his silver sebring parked just off the curb.

“Holy shit!” He exclaimed, looking her up and down. “You look- holy shit! I’m sorry, I mean you look really beautiful.”

“You’re looking quite nice too. I like how you look without the red uniform.” she replied, smiling as she approached him.

“Red isn't really my color, I’m more into teal.” Adrian joked.

She chuckled and he opened the car door with a dramatic flourish, announcing “Milady!”

Y/N thanked him as she got in and after he closed the door, he ran around the car to the driver’s side. She looked around as she buckled herself in. His car was surprisingly clean and tidy, no sign of trash on the floor or seats. There was a little rabbit figurine on the dashboard and she smiled at how much it reminded her of an old toy she had as a kid. Adrian hopped in, buckled his seatbelt and started the car. The song ‘Barbie Girl’ blared out the speakers loudly and Adrian practically smacked the console in his rush to turn it off. His face turned beet red and he looked thoroughly embarrassed.

“Hyping myself up on the drive here… I guess I forgot to turn it off.” He said, quietly.

“I like it.” She said, reaching over to turn it back on, although turning it down to a reasonable level so they could talk.

“Wicked” he replied with a smile as he pulled the car away from the curb and began driving.

The drive there was quick, the bar wasn’t too far from her apartment and they spent the whole time talking about how excited Adrian was to show her the waffle fries and the drink which was apparently called a ‘Bear on a Unicycle’. When they pulled up, he helped her out of the car and held the door open for her as she stepped into the bar. O’Rourke’s Sports Bar was your typical run of the mill sports bar, complete with cheesy neon decor and arcade games. They took a table tucked away against the back wall, away from the rowdy crowd of drunks jeering at the football game on the tv. A waitress approached and Adrian ordered the drinks and the waffle fries.

“So, how was your day? Did you work today?” she asked as the waitress walked away.

“Yeah, I had to work the morning shift so I could get tonight off but it wasn’t too bad. What about you?” Adrian replied.

“It was my first day at work, it went fine. It was mostly just paperwork and getting to know my way around and meeting all my coworkers, but I’m told that on Monday I get to actually start the real work.” She answered.

“You said you do computer stuff right? Like hacking and shit? Are you like a ‘guy in the chair’?” he asked excitedly and she laughed.

“Nothing that cool.” She responded, leaving out the ‘not anymore’ that she thought in her head. “It’s a cyber security company so I’m trying to stop hackers by creating programs they can’t crack and fixing any bugs they find."

“That’s some cool shit!” Adrian said. “I just clear tables and refill waters and breadstick baskets and stuff.”

“Why don't you do something else then?” she asked. “You don’t have to work in a restaurant forever if you don’t want to.”

“I don’t have a college degree. I was going to community college but then my mom and my brother died and I took a break to deal with all that and I just never went back.” Adrian answered earnestly. “It wasn't really my thing anyways.”

“I’m really sorry Adrian, I know you said your brother died but I didn’t know about your mom.” She said, reaching across the table to put her hand on his.

“Thanks, it was a long time ago.” Adrian said and their eyes met, holding each other’s gaze.

He opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something else but just then, the waitress returned with a tray, placing the fries and drinks in front of them and Adrian pulled his hand back, averting his eyes to the floor awkwardly.

Y/N waited until the waitress had walked away to speak.

“Well, Adrian, I hope these fries are as ‘awesomesauce’ as you promised me.” she said as he raised his head and smiled, watching her poke at the food cautiously. “Because they kinda look horrifying.”

“Alright, so they don’t look very pretty, but I swear they still taste amazing.” he assured her.

“If you say so. I’m going for it.” she said as she grabbed a fry with her fork, trying to keep the toppings on.

“You’re gonna love it.” he said as she took a bite.

“Holy shit.” she said with her mouth still full. “Holy shit.”

“Good holy shit or bad holy shit?” Adrian questioned as she finished her bite.

“I didn't know something could look that monstrous and taste this heavenly.” she said with a laugh.

“It’s like a party in your mouth, right?” Adrian asked. “Now move your fork out of the way I’m going in.”

The pair talked until the fries ran out and then kept talking. Their drinks, which she had to admit were actually very good despite the weird name and awkward-sounding ingredient combination, ran out so they got more and those ran out too. They both switched to non-alcoholic drinks at two, Adrian so he was still sober enough to drive home and Y/N so she was only lightly buzzed but not drunk. She loved listening to Adrian’s stories, which he’d tell complete with funny voices and animated movements and he was becoming addicted to her laugh. He’d do anything to make her laugh just to hear that beautiful sound again, to see her eyes light up and for her to flash that smile at him.

It was almost time for the bar to close and so Adrian reluctantly pulled himself away from the table to pay the tab at the bar. Y/N checked the time on her phone and was surprised at just how much time they had spent at that corner table, talking.

“Well, ‘ey there gorgeous.” She heard and looked up to see an obviously inebriated man swaying towards her from his group of even drunker friends crowded around a tv. “Wanna get out of here?”

“As flattered as I am by your charming and obviously sober proposition. I’m already here with someone, so no.” she said politely but firmly, hoping he’d get the message.

“What? That little shrimp at the bar?” he asked, gesturing at Adrian. “Let me show you what a real man can do for you, sweetheart.”

He leaned over, placing a sweaty hand on her arm, his face close enough to hers that she could smell the cheap beer on his breath.

“I don’t know what part of your pea-sized brain can’t comprehend ‘no’ but I’m in a good mood tonight so I’ll repeat myself: no, I do not want to have sex with you.” she said with a smile, removing her arm from under his and leaning back to escape him. “Now fuck off.”

“Hey, is this guy bothering you?” Adrian said, walking over and immediately placing himself between her and the guy.

“I was just telling our drunk friend here that he should go home and get acquainted with his hand because it’s the only way he’ll be getting off tonight.” she answered and Adrian smirked.

“You heard the lady, get out of here.” Adrian said, turning to the drunk guy.

“Like I’m gonna listen to some pansy ass little bitch like you.” he sneered into Adrian’s face, but Adrian didn’t even blink, he just kept staring him down.

“I really don't want to kick your ass in front of my date but I will if you don’t fuck off.” he said calmly, almost too calmly and a shiver of attraction went down her spine.

“FUCK YOU AND YOUR SLUT!” the guy screamed and moved as if he was gonna punch Adrian.

Before she could even react, Adrian dodged the punch and pulled the guy’s fist behind his back before slamming him onto the table.

“Apologize to her.” Adrian ordered, twisting the guy’s arm as he cried out for help.

“Fuck, shit, I’m sorry, I’m sorry okay!” He spat out between cries.

The next few events happened in quick succession and it wouldn't be until the next morning that either of them would fully realize just how complicated the fight had been. The drunk guy’s group of drunk friends approached quickly and Adrian spun the guy around and shoved him at them, knocking most of them down. Another one of them came up from behind Adrian and tried to grab him but Y/N kicked his legs out from under him before he could. Adrian jumped on a guy who had tried to swing at her. Adrian was methodical in how he worked his way through the assailants, subduing them quickly and easily. He turned around just in time to see the last asshole get cold-cocked by Y/N’s fist.

Adrian’s eyes glanced over the pile of moaning and groaning men on the floor and did a mental count to realize that she had knocked out at least three of them. They stood there, breathing hard and staring at each other in disbelief.

“Nice right hook.” Adrian said.

“I really liked your roundhouse kick.” she replied before looking around at the stunned bargoers. “We should probably get out of here.”

“Agreed.'' Adrian said before he grabbed her hand and pulled her out a back door into an alley behind the bar.

Y/N could feel her heartbeat pounding in her head, her whole body flooded with adrenaline. From the looks of Adrian, he was feeling the same

“Fuck that was so hot, I’m like rock hard right now.” he breathed out and she looked down to confirm. “Shit, I didn't mean to say that out loud. I’m sorry. I know that like beating people up shouldn't be a turn on and-”

“I thought it was sexy too.” She said quickly, interrupting him.

“Holy fuck, you're like my dream girl, can I kiss you?”

“I’m gonna be disappointed if you don’t.”

She almost didn't finish, his lips crashing against hers a millisecond after she had gotten out the last word. Her back hit the wall, his arms around her body providing a little cushion from the hard bricks. His fingers tangled into her hair with a light pull, his other hand winding its way down her backside like it was exploring. He slipped his knee in between her legs, his hands pulling her ass up to lightly rest her sex upon his leg, coaxing a moan from her lips as his jeans teased that taught little bud. Upon hearing her moan, he smiled against her mouth proudly and moved to her neck, intending to give her the largest hickey he could.

‘Two can play at that game’ she thought and moved her hands from his chest up and around his neck, where they came to rest at the nape of his neck briefly before continuing into the brunette’s curls. She twirled a lock of hair around her finger as he tongued the crook of her neck and she waited until he took a moment’s pause to breathe before she pulled. This caught him by surprise, the breath he was sucking in caught in his throat before a moan pushed its way out.

“Fuck.” he moaned into her skin as she chuckled victoriously, a triumph that was short lived as the sound of distant sirens grew ever nearer, pulling them from their lust-addled make-out session and back into the present.

“Fuck, we’d better go before the cops get here. Or that Vigilante you’re so fond of.” she said with a wink, still trying to catch her breath as she spoke.

“Those guys were drunk and attacked us, legally we did nothing wrong.” Adrian replied, smiling as he caught his breath.

“Well if Vigilante doesn't get them for public intoxication and assault then he’ll get us for public indecency. What do you say we take this somewhere more private? Like my place?” she asked, looking up at him through her batting eyelashes.

“Holy fuck, I’m gonna cream my pants if you do that again.” he groaned. “Let’s fucking go.”

They sped back to his car and then back to her apartment, struggling with great difficulty to last the short ride without touching each other. They fumbled their way into the building and then into the elevator, attached messily at the lips before finally bursting through her front door. As soon as the door shut behind them, Adrian hiked her up into his arms by her thighs, her legs hooking around his waist. He carried her into the bedroom, pushing her back onto the bed and climbing on top, straddling her waist.

She pushed up at his shirt and he pulled it off quickly, throwing it across the room as she took in his surprisingly muscular chest that had been hidden well by his clothes. She quirked an eyebrow up and he smirked, responding simply “I do a lot of push ups.”

“No complaints here.” she replied. “Well, I could complain about your pants.”

“What about them?” he looked down at them self-consciously and she pulled him down to her.

“They’re still on.” she whispered into his ear and he smiled in relief, scrambling off the bed to kick them off, almost falling over as he did.

“We’ve got time.” she assured him with a laugh as she pulled off her clothes, leaving them both in only their underwear.

“I don’t think I can last much longer without being inside you.” he revealed, pouncing back on top of her, his hands immediately finding the latch to her bra and detaching it. “Fuck, you’re so hot.”

“So hurry up and fuck me now and we can take our time on round two.” she replied, her hand palming his hard length through his boxers.

“I swear it’s like you came from my mind or something, you’re literally my dream girl.” he moaned in between alternating licks of her nipples, his hands massaging the tissue as he worked.

“Adrian…” she whined, feeling so empty. “Please…”

He ripped the panties off her body and she let out a surprised gasp.

“I hope those weren’t your favorites.” he teased with a smirk as his fingers traced her lips and found the spot they were looking for. “You’re like dripping wet, babe.”

“So do something about it.” she challenged him and he obliged, slipping a long finger into her pussy.

“Fuuuuuck.” she moaned as he added another, his thumb working circles around her clit.

“Wanna taste you.” he said, pulling his fingers out and up to his mouth as she whined at the loss. “Fuck, you taste better than bubblegum ice cream.”

“Adrian, I need you in me now!” she begged. “Please!”

“As you wish angel.” he said smugly before lining himself up and pushing in, inch by agonizing inch until he bottomed out.

“Oh, Adrian!” she moaned, never having felt that full before, one hand staying hooked around Adrian and the other grabbing the headboard for support.

“I swear I’ll take my time next time but I need you so fucking bad.” He warned her before he began fucking her at a brutal pace, his hands holding her waist so tight they might bruise.

The bedroom was filled with Adrian’s grunts and wet slapping as she began to moan loudly as he rutted into her like he was a feral animal, the bed itself smacking against the wall in a steady beat.

“Not… gonna… last… long.” Adrian groaned between thrusts, one of his hands letting go of her waist and snaking back down between them to her clit. “Want… you… to… cum… with… me.”

His deft fingers found her bud quickly and resumed rubbing, her moans increasing in volume.

“Adrian, oh god yes, Adrian!” she screamed as he pounded in and out. “I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum, I’m-”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!” he chanted as he neared climax, leaning down and pulling her into a kiss just before he reached the peak, hers crashing just behind, a scream falling from her mouth as she plummeted.

“SHUT UP!” A voice roared from behind the wall, accompanied by a furious pounding, but it was already too late as the pair finished their loud, panting moans together.

Adrian collapsed on top of her as they heaved deep breaths together, still sheathed inside her. They looked at each other and quickly laughed at having been yelled at by her neighbor.

“That was…” he began, looking down at her flushed face and getting lost in her fucked-out smile.

“Yeah, it was.” She finished for him, gazing into his green eyes beyond his crooked glasses, her hand finding its way back into his messy hair. “I’ve only been here a week and you're already getting me in trouble with my neighbors.”

“I’ll make it up to you.” He said, smiling back at her before leaning down to kiss her.

“Are you suggesting round two? We can try to be a little quieter, for my neighbor’s sake.” she asked with a devilish grin and Adrian questioned if he had died and gone to heaven, right there between her legs.

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Y/N shot up out of bed breathing hard, tears streaming down her face and was greeted with a bedroom she didn’t recognize as hers. Taking a deep breath, she remembered she was staying the night at Adrian’s place. It had been a few weeks since their first date and they'd been seeing each other pretty steadily, still in the honeymoon phase of the relationship. She remembered the nightmare that had woken her up and she put her hand over her mouth to muffle her crying, not wanting to disturb Adrian. Despite this, just seconds after her, Adrian was up and brandishing a large knife he had apparently pulled from under his pillow.

“What’s wrong? Who do I have to kill?” He said squinting around suspiciously at the dark shadows around him, unable to see clearly without his glasses.

She could say nothing, still so upset from the nightmare she couldn’t vocalize her thoughts. Embarrassed, she wanted to just sink into the pillows and disappear. Adrian reached over to the nightstand, turning on the lamp and putting his glasses on as quickly as he could with a knife in one hand. She just looked at Adrian and took in the sight of him, shirtless with his brunette hair tussled messily and his glasses askew on his face, sleep still evident in his eyes when he locked his green eyes with her.

“Is someone in the apartment?” he asked quickly and she shook her head. “Are you alright? You’re shaking.”

“I had a nightmare.” she said quietly, barely able to muster a whisper in her distraught and embarrassed state.

“Oh.” Adrian replied, setting the knife on the nightstand before turning back to her and grabbing her hands, squeezing them reassuringly. “You’re awake now, whatever it was can’t hurt you anymore.”

Her shock and embarrassment faded away into relief as she threw herself into his arms, which enveloped her quickly as she sobbed into his chest.

“Fuck, it was so awful Adrian.” she gasped out.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Adrian asked. “When I was a little kid and I had nightmares about the big purple bastard from McDonald’s, my mom would make me talk about it.”

She stifled a laugh through her tears and pulled herself away from his chest to look at him.

“You were afraid of Grimace, the McDonald’s mascot?” she asked quietly.

“You weren’t? That purple blob was terrifying!” Adrian exclaimed and she laughed, even as the tears continued streaming down her face, which he wiped away with his thumbs, keeping her cheeks cupped in his hands lovingly. “Everyone was afraid of at least one of them, those mascots weren't made for children. Was your dream about the clown one?”

“No. It was about my brother.” she answered quietly.

“You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to.” he said, slowly leaning back onto the pillow with her on his chest. “But you don't have to hold it in either, you can let it out. I won’t get upset if you get snotty tears on my chest or anything.”

She let out a shaky laugh, “Adrian, that’s so gross.”

“I’m just saying you can snot it up babe, I won’t judge. Or we can just go back to bed if you don’t want to talk about it.”

She took a deep breath and considered this, but she knew that she needed to get it out.

“I have this dream almost every night. Rick is on the other side of some kind of one-way mirror. It’s like I can see and hear him but he has no clue I’m there.” she began quietly. “Then behind him-”

She paused. He knew that her brother had been in the military and that she had briefly worked in a tech position for the government but he didn't know about Amanda Waller or ARGUS. She couldn’t tell him, it wasn’t safe for him but she didn't want to lie so she decided to not give specifics.

“Behind him appears his boss. She’s a real ruthless woman, I never liked her, I always knew she was going to do something to get him killed. She holds a gun up to his head and I’m screaming at Rick to turn around but he doesn’t notice. My friends from that job are there too and I’m screaming at them to do something to stop her, to help him, but they’re not listening. I’m pounding on the glass trying to get to them but I can’t get through. I’m pleading for her to stop, to put the gun down but she pulls the trigger and I wake up. It’s always the same.” she explained, a few more tears slipping from her eyes.

“I’m sorry you have that nightmare so often, it sounds awful.” Adrian said lowly and she could feel the vibrations of his words echoing from within his chest as he spoke. “But I’m here for you and I know exactly what you’re feeling because it’s what I went through after Gut died. You’re not alone in this anymore, whatever you need, I’ve got you.”

“Can you just hold me for a little while longer?” she asked in a shaky voice, a part of her afraid he might say no.

“Of course babe, I’ll hold you so fucking good.” he responded and she laughed.

And so Adrian just held her as she cried, letting it all out, and when she was done, he held her still. Her breaths found a steady rhythm with his, her heartbeat falling into time with his as she laid there on his chest and calmed down. She felt so at peace there in his arms as he gently stroked her hair. Adrian felt like he had found the place he was meant to be, like he had been made and put on the earth for the sole purpose of finding her. He began to hum a little, subconsciously at first but once he realized he was doing it, he switched to a song that he knew she liked.

Once her tears had dried and she no longer felt like crying, she quietly said “thank you, Adrian.”

“You don’t have to thank me, it’s just what boyfriends do. Besides, you didn’t even get any gross snot on me.” He replied.

Instantly, she sat up from off his chest and stared down at him in shock, a thousand emotions bubbling inside her.

“What?” he asked, obliviously.

“Did- did you just say you’re my boyfriend?”

“Did I? Aren’t I? I mean am I?” he began and she could only stare at him in disbelief. “Did I do something wrong? You're staring at me and you look like you're gonna cry again, I’m not sure-”

She shook her head and leaned down, stopping him from talking as she kissed him from above. It was the kind of kiss that said everything that needed to be said, without a single word. They were boyfriend and girlfriend, it was that simple. He whined when she eventually pulled out of the kiss to speak.

“I know we haven't made it official or anything until now but I’m just really lucky I have a boyfriend like you.”

“I’m lucky I have a girlfriend like you.” he replied before launching back into the kiss.

When they separated again, she laid her head back down on his chest, both feeling their exhaustion creeping in to pull them back to sleep. But before she let it, she remembered something important she wanted to ask him.

“Adrian?”

“Hmm? He replied sleepily as he resumed stroking her hair.

“Why do you keep a knife under your pillow?”

“Oh. For safety.” he said simply, as if it was the most perfectly obvious thing in the world.

She let out an endearing chuckle and let herself drift off to a peaceful sleep in his arms.

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findingjoynweirdstuff · 4 years ago

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Dream SMP Recap (May 23/2021) - Turtle Hatching

Foolish wonders whether to take Quackity’s offer and join him in Las Nevadas.

Later, Bad guides two turtles through the ups and downs of their relationship as they navigate the turbulent and emotional experiences found in life, love, marriage and parenthood.

A brief summary of the week’s total events can be found at the end of the post.

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VOD LINKS:

Foolish

Tubbo

Jack Manifold

BadBoyHalo

Michaelmcchill

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- Foolish continues wondering if he should join Quackity. Whether or not Foolish joins, he won’t be done with his summer home.

- There are good and bad sides to both options. Las Nevadas is both risk and reward, and Foolish is torn

- Knowing Eret, he’d probably tell Foolish not to join

- He also still has the deal he made with Ranboo about the shulker box

- Foolish finishes building the massive pyramid at his summer home

- Tubbo comes on to work on Bee ‘n’ Boo with Ranboo, getting materials

- Tubbo and Ranboo rob Foolish of a few blocks from his floor while he tries to render in the view from the pyramid

- Foolish goes to Snowchester to do some very mild griefing in revenge, breaking a few blocks from the floor and stripping many logs

- Tubbo and Ranboo go back to steal the beacon, but instead Tubbo just steals the same blocks of the floor that Foolish filled in

- Ranboo starts chasing him through the Nether. Foolish returns to the summer home to see that they stole some of his floor again

- Maybe this is why Foolish needs to change his ways a little bit, maybe join Las Nevadas for more balance

- He decides to take a visit. Maybe the Tubbo-Ranboo situation was the final push. Along the way, he finds that the portals have been messed up and deals with them

- He knows the others like Puffy and Eret wouldn’t approve of him joining Q, so he won’t tell them. Foolish reaches Las Nevadas. He’ll stay here...at least for a little while

- Jack Manifold continues to work on his pub

- Bad adds a llama to his collection

- These llamas are the population of L’Sandburg. Some llamas will be the L’Sandburgian Army, others will join the L’Sandburgian Council. Some will be simple citizens

- He checks on the L’Sandburg nature preserve and thinks there should be more turtles. He burns his weednip and goes to find some seagrass

- Bad plays matchmaker with two turtles named Shelly and Sheldon, two turtles from opposite sides of the island. Sheldon is nervous about Shelly not liking him and Bad gives him a pep talk

- Shelly and Sheldon go on a date! It goes well! Afterwards, Sheldon is nervous about a second date, but Bad gives him advice -- if Sheldon gets so worried about it not working out, he might end up sabotaging his own relationship anyway

- Sheldon agrees, and Bad calls Shelly on the phone to tell her that Sheldon is interested in a second date. Shelly has moved house

- Michael logs on to build a house and Bad searches for nametags

- While Bad was gone, Sheldon gained his confidence and went on ten more dates with Shelly! They even moved in together, and Sheldon wants to propose!

- Bad gives relationship advice to Sheldon, telling him that Shelly probably doesn’t want a big public proposal as such an event might put a lot of unexpected pressure on her

- Both people in the relationship should have some idea that a proposal might be coming soon so that both people are comfortable knowing that the other person will likely say yes. Sheldon tells Bad that he believes they are at that stage already

- They discuss ideal places to propose in a less public spot. Sheldon assures Bad that they both have a solid idea of what they want their future to be as a family.

- Bad gives Sheldon a rose bush to propose with and sends Sheldon on his way, unbelievably proud of them both

- Bad asks Sheldon what Shelly said afterwards, and Sheldon says...

Shelly said yes!

And Sheldon wants Bad to wed them together!

- Bad tells Sheldon that he would be honored to. Sheldon wants a sudden marriage so that they can become officially married and go off to live together

- Bad does the vows. The turtles both say I do

“Then, by the power vested in me through the Dream SMP and that shiny pyramid with all that shiny gold that I might take later...I now pronounce you both: a husband turtle and a wife turtle. Shelly and Sheldon, you may proceed to smooch!”

- Bad says his parting words to them and gives the couple some honeymoon gifts, giving them roses, chicken, and feeding them seagrass. He leaves, telling them to have fun

- Bad sings about true love for a bit, then goes back to find a bit of XP on the beach. He’s confused and goes to find Shelly and Sheldon, discovering that Sheldon has laid eggs and is now staying to guard them!

- Bad helps Sheldon guard the eggs while Shelly is away

- He then goes back to Shelly to find that Shelly went out to buy a carton of milk when she got lost. But when he and Shelly return to the eggs, they find that Sheldon isn’t there, so Bad leaves to go find him. He must have gone to get groceries too!

- Bad gently tries to get Shelly and Sheldon to stop yelling at each other in front of the eggs

- He protects the eggs and then goes looking for the two again, asking a cat in a boat if they had seen Sheldon

- Bad finds Sheldon swimming near the eggs. He tells Sheldon he checked her house but Shelly wasn’t there. He finds Shelly by the pyramid and is shocked to hear that she doesn’t want to see Sheldon anymore

- He returns to Sheldon, telling him he tried his best. Shelly needs her space and they need to take care of the eggs in the meantime

- A wandering trader nearly destroys the eggs, so Bad murders him. He starts building an enclosure for the eggs

- Bad finds Sheldon and tells him that he’s getting frustrated that he’s taking care of the eggs and Sheldon’s off doing whatever he wants. He tells Sheldon that he’s a jerk and that he’ll keep watching the eggs, sending Sheldon on his way

- Bad leaves the eggs to look for Shelly. He finds Sheldon swimming near Shelly’s house, and is overjoyed to hear that Sheldon is hoping to patch things up with her. But he doesn’t think she’ll have him back

- Bad assures Sheldon that they’ll find her. He reminisces on Sheldon’s bachelor days, finding Shelly and bringing them both back to the egg enclosure. Shelly confesses to Bad that she’s worried Sheldon will still be mad, that she messed up

- Bad tells Shelly that Sheldon wants her back and acts as a mediator between the two. He gets the two to talk calmly with each other.

- He asks what problems they have with each other. Sheldon is mad about the toothpaste cap. Shelly has a problem with Sheldon’s breath. Bad points to the fact that the two are holding flippers -- there’s obviously a connection here

- There may be differences in the ways they want to raise their kids, but there was a spark there, and the kids would want to grow up with both of them. Bad can see it in the way they look at each other, and nothing they’ve said is anything they can’t work on together

- At the end of the day, this relationship can only work if both of them are willing to put the work in, and it seems like both are willing, then Bad sees no reason why they can’t be together forever

- Shelly and Sheldon agree, and Bad is elated. He builds them a new room together. They’re going to be one happy family

- Now, Shelly and Sheldon are sharing the responsibilities of taking care of the kids. Sheldon tells Bad he’s worried that he won’t be a good parent, but Bad tells him that he can always ask for help from other turtles in the community for advice

- It’s going to be difficult, and Sheldon won’t be the perfect parent, but at the end of the day, he cares about his kids and that’s what matters. Everything will be fine

- Bad waits a long time for the eggs to finally hatch, but they do:

The children are named Shelby and Snappy!

Upcoming Events:

- The final Egg lore stream

- Foolish’s date

- Tales From the SMP: “Space Race”

- Ponk’s lore stream

- Dream’s lore video

- Sapnap’s possible lore stream

- Awesamdude lore stream

---

END OF WEEK RECAP:

5/17 - Nothing much happens.

5/18 - Foolish makes a deal with Bad to sell L’Sandburg

5/19 - Foolish hires Punz to search for the nuke, DreamXD gives out player heads, the Badlands argue about weednip while planning for war

5/20 - Nothing much happens.

5/21 - Ranboo finds another Stronghold

5/22 - Dream writes Technoblade a letter, Quackity tries to recruit Charlie, Fundy, Purpled and Foolish to Las Nevadas, Ranboo creates a room for his experiments at the Stronghold

5/23 - Foolish thinks about joining Las Nevadas, Bad does matchmaking for turtles

#dream smp #dream smp recaps #long posts

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cafedanslanuit · 4 years ago

Text

Legend

♡ — personal favourites

☆ — fan favourites

♠ — nsfw

♫ — includes songs

Headcanons

RFA + Saeran - Dirty Dancing ♫ ♡

RFA + Saeran - MC wants to have her own business

RFA - MC is ten years older than them ♡

RFA - What goes through their mind when they’re cuddling? ☆

RFA + Vanderwood - Having a rebellious kid ♡

RFA - MC can’t sleep unless with them

RFA - A bubbly MC makes self-deprecating jokes as a coping mechanism ♡

RFA - MC that is bubbly, confident and never afraid to stand up for someone

Yoosung dragging MC back to bed because it’s raining

RFA + V - MC blasts music when she’s upset ♫

RFA + V + Saeran - MC with a passion for anime and drawing

RFA + V + Saeran - MC with a major in fashion

RFA + Saeran - Quarantine edition ♡

RFA + V + Saeran + Obey Me! brothers on a trip to the beach ♡ ☆

RFA - MC with a hand fetish

MC has Jumin trying commoner food

Zen + Jumin + Saeyoung - MC is selfconscious about being chubby and they make her feel better ♠ ♡

Jumin comforts MC about a guy who is texting her constantly and making her upset

RFA reacts to a MC that is called Elizabeth

RFA + V + Saeran - As Les Misérables songs ♫ ♡

Saeyoung messes with Yoosung’s phone to help him out

Saeyoung x MC - MC makes her own music

Latina!MC and Jumin get stuck with MC’s latino parents during quarantine ♡

RFA + Saeran - MC gets her wisdom teeth out ♡ ☆

RFA + V + Saeran - MC has a bad coping mechanism of punching her thighs (tw!)

Domestic Texts Series: Zen & MC || Saeran & MC ♡

RFA - MC is obsessed with Elizabeth the 3rd

RFA + V + Saeran with a MC that likes going to protests

RFA - MC grew up in really bad poverty

RFA + V + Saeran - They find out MC is only eighteen after everything that happened during their routes ☆

RFA - How do they calm MC when she’s anxious?

RFA - MC has dyslexia

RFA - MC with chronic pain

Royal AUs with Jumin, Zen and Yoosung

Love Language Event with Yoosung, Zen, Jumin, Saeyoung, Saeran and V

Happy New Year Event with Saeyoung, Saeran, Zen, V and Yoosung

Thirst Asks [+18]

[All Asks]

[Jumin] [Jihyun] [Yoosung]

Fanfiction

Mystic Messenger as failed love stories ♡

reminiscing about the characters and your failed love stories in an alternate universe

You get me ♡

What happens when you’ve finally found your prince charming, but he doesn’t seem to fit in your life anymore?

Bet you can’t leave me

Mystic Messenger Week 2020. “The first time she threatened to leave me, I felt like I was dying.”

Who are you?

Drabble prompt - Zen always sought recognition for his work. Lately, he’s been using other resource to achieve his goals.

Dance with me

Latina!MC tries to teach Zen to dance bachata.

Jealousy [Kinktober 2020 - Day 2] ♠

When Zen agreed to be MC's plus one at a fancy party, he never expected she would lock them both inside a bathroom in a fit of jealousy. The hunger in her eyes could only indicate she was about to remind him who he was with.

A plan gone wrong [Mysme Angst Week - Day 1]

You convinced Zen to stage a fake coffee date in order to give Jumin, your fiancé, a wake up call about how much he had been ignoring you lately. However, things don't go as planned.

i could buy you anything but i cannot buy you ♠ ♡

[kinktober 2021 - day fifteen: body worship] Zen had always had the need to be in control for a lot of years. (...) His guard may not be up as much as it did back then, but to this day Zen still takes a second look at any situation he’s in. He can’t let anything drive him away from his acting career so he always has to give his best and not take anything for granted.

You get me ♡

What happens when you’ve finally found your prince charming, but he doesn’t seem to fit in your life anymore?

I always wanted to marry rich

Jumin Han stood with his hand holding the doorknob, not believing what he had just heard. There was no way this was happening. Not days before his wedding. Not only that, days before he married who he thought was the love of his life. The one who he thought he could trust, the one that didn’t ask for anything but his love and attention.

Home

You are staying at Jaehee’s after Jumin did something that made you really angry. While staying there, you start feeling sick and end up at the hospital. What you first thought was nothing to worry about, quickly turns into a nightmare that could change your relationship.

Sweet Creature ♫ ♡

Jumin gets stuck in another country away from his wife due to the pandemic. He’s been having trouble falling asleep, so MC decides to tell him a bedtime story. A simple request ends up making Jumin open up about a small insecurity he had over his wife and his best friend.

If I could tell him ♫

Request: “can i request a jumin fic where MC has a crush on jumin but is very shy and so ends up talking with the other members more and then jumin confronts her about it and she accidentally confesses/he confesses.”

Animal I Have Become ♫

500 followers event. “So what if you can see the darkest side of me? No one will ever change this animal I have become. Help me believe it’s not the real me.”

Young God ♫ ♠

500 followers event. “He says: “Oh, baby girl, don’t get cut on my edges. I’m the king of everything, you know my tongue is a weapon. There’s a line on the clock that’s separating your thighs, if you wanna go to Heaven you should fuck me tonight.”

Crowded Room ♫ ♡ ☆

500 followers event. “Baby, it’s just me and you, just us two, even in a crowded room, baby it’s just me and you” - [SMAU Epilogue]

Dear Jumin ♡ ☆

What if after all the events that happened during Jumin’s route, he didn’t fall in love with MC?

A new life

When MC gets into a car accident, Jumin ends up with her medical records. He never thought he would find out about what happened to his wife six years ago.

You see me in my room, wish you were here right now [Kinktober 2020 - Day 12] ♠ ☆

Jumin Han clicks on a pop-up ad and gets stuck into a cam girl website. As he waits for someone to come to his penthouse and fix his laptop, he can't help but notice a young woman giggling as she read through he comment section. From that moment on, he's hooked. And he can't wait to see more of her.

Sometimes I think about Elizabeth [Mysme Angst Week - Day 3]

Jumin tries to deal with the grief of losing Elizabeth the 3rd.

A late night conversation

A late night conversation with Jumin takes another turn into a much better scenario. [Fix-it fic for Jumin's DLC. Set on Episode 3]

Seven Minutes in Heaven - Holidays Edition ♠

You’re home for the holidays and your friends invite you to a party. After a couple of drinks, one of them proposes playing seven minutes in heaven and makes everyone at the party leave an item of theirs in a small basket. When it’s finally your turn, you walk over and inspect the items before choosing the one that will decide your fate for the night.

A day off

For @/mysme-rbb event! You convince Jumin to take a small trip to the theme park. Taking into consideration it was the first time either of you had stepped foot in a place like that, it went exactly like expected.

you know i’m just a flight away (if you wanted you could take a private plane) ♠ ♡ ☆

[kinktober 2021 - day five: sex tape] Knowing Jumin is about to leave on yet another work trip, you suggest recording something for him to see while away. A little souvenir so he doesn't miss you too much- but now he's not sure he wants to leave at all.

Superstar ♫

500 followers event. “Before I met you, I pushed them all away / Soon as I kissed you, I wanted you to stay.”

What you always wanted

Mystic Messenger Week 2020. As MC’s anniversary with Saeyoung is approaching, she asks her friends of the RFA for advice on what present is the best one. After several recommendations, she decides on what she should give him. Her only hope is that he’ll be happy with her choice.

The Ghost Of You ♡ [ Vietnamese translation ]

A love story between a man with a mysterious job and a nurse during the Second World War. “And all the things that you never ever told me and all the smiles that are ever gonna haunt me. Never coming home, never coming home.”

Loving You ☆

Drabble Prompt. “I am profoundly enchanted by the flowing complexity in you.” - John Keats

Discoveries [Kinktober 2020 - Day 27] ♠

After you find a transparent light blue dildo hidden in Saeyoung's room, the question hangs in the air. Why not trying it out together?

Lost on you [Mysme Angst Week - Day 2]

A discussion about how to handle Saeran's recovery turns into the worst fight Saeyoung and MC have ever had. Both of them bring back past memories that should have never been talked about, in a desperate try to prove their point, not noticing how much they're tearing their relationship apart.

Just like him [Mysme Angst Week - Day 7]

No one teaches you how to grief. Sometimes you just do whatever it helps the pain go away.

give me the stars

For @/gureishi’s event. A small piece to celebrate Saeyoung’s birthday. A late-night escapade for two young lovers.

Wildest Dreams ♫ ♡

500 followers event. Slightly NSFW. “He says no one has to know what we do, his hands are in my hair, his clothes are in my room.”

Seven Minutes in Heaven - Holidays Edition ♠

Beautiful ♡

Jihyun has a couple of burn scars on his torso after the fire that took his mother’s life. You make sure you know he loves every part of him.

Wait for me

When the pandemic starts, MC gets stuck in another country, away from Saeran who was just starting his recovery. She tries to work a system with him so they can feel close even when they’re kilometres apart.

How ♫

500 followers event. “I’m asking for your help, I am going through hell, afraid nothing can save me but the sound of your voice.”

Vanilla ♠ ♡ ☆

NSFW. Saeran’s favourite place was between MC’s legs.

Apricity

Drabble Prompt. He never understood the reason behind this change (...). All he knew was that when winter came, he would start feeling tired out of nowhere and he would lose his appetite.

Gardening

Drabble Prompt. In which Saeyoung and MC break one of Saeran’s pot and they try to cover it up before he gets home.

All I’ve Ever Known ♡ ☆

Drabble Prompt. Saeran has some doubts before his wedding. Thankfully, you’re there to send all his worries away.

Not to be able to love

Drabble Prompt. He wants to love her, he does. But when you’ve been through that much, it gets hard to love and not need.

Four Seasons (15 chapters) ♠ ♡

Saeran’s After Ending. Saeran has finally found MC and is ectasic to finally be able to enjoy the good ending his tumultous life has reached. But with Saeyoung still missing and Mint Eye around, his happiness may have to wait a little more. Was love really capable to win against his inner demons or will he have to learn to fight for himself?

In another life [Mysme Angst Week - Day 4]

When MC knows her time is coming, she promises Saeran she will do whatever it takes to find him in another life. The only mistake was that she didn't expect to find him like that.

Our time

Saeran is saying his goodbyes but this time, you decide not to let him go. || Fix-it fic for Saeran's After Ending

even in the dark

For @/gureishi’s event. A small piece to celebrate Saeran’s birthday. Some days are better than others. But the people who love us stay through it all.

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nancylou444 · 4 years ago

Photo

‘walker’ Mile in his tex. boots

Padalecki stars in update of show made famous by Chuck Norris, revels in working with wife Genevieve

Jared Padalecki says it’s great working with wife Genevieve (below right) on “Walker,” a different take on “Walker, Texas Ranger,” that starred Chuck Norris (far right). THE CW

By Erika Martinez New York Daily News

Jared Padalecki is not your father’s “Walker, Texas Ranger,” nor is he trying to be. Padalecki, 38, stars in and produces “Walker,” a reimagining of the Lone Star lawman made famous by Chuck Norris in the 1990s. The new CW show, which premieres Thursday at 8 p.m., is more of a family drama than a cops-and-robbers rehash. “There’s a reason we called it ‘Walker,’ not ‘Walker, Texas Ranger,’ because it refers to the whole Walker family,” Padalecki told the Daily News from the set in Austin, Texas. “It’s more a show about how people in these times can deal with very human issues as opposed to ‘good guy beats up bad guy.’ ” Good versus evil is something Padalecki knows a bit about, after 15 years playing monster hunter Sam Winchester in the hit CW show “Supernatural.” Instead of taking down werewolves, vampires and demons, as Walker, Padalecki is tackling issues surrounding immigration, police tactics and grief. The 2021 version of Cordell Walker is a widower with two teenage children. Having thrown himself into his work after his wife’s murder, he comes home from a long undercover assignment to find his kids struggling and his department changing. He’s paired up with a Mexican-American woman, played by Lindsey Morgan, who starred in another CW show, “The 100.” A trailblazer with a lot to lose, her character, Ranger Micki Ramirez, keeps Walker in line. Padalecki fans will recognize a familiar face as the law enforcer’s lost love, shown in flashbacks. Emily Walker is brought to life by Genevieve Padalecki, Jared’s wife. “For the last almost nine years, it’s been Gen as a mother so often, that to see her again across the set from me, playing a character is just awesome,” Padalecki said. “It’s really fun to work with her and watch her flex her acting chops.” An NYU Tisch School of the Arts grad, Genevieve did a whole lot more than just parent while her husband was off fighting mythical creatures. She writes a blog called Now & Gen, has a book club, is on the board for the charity Random Acts, is working on a new project promoting sustainability and had a clothing line at Kohl’s. “She’s an inspiration to me and everybody around her,” said her doting husband. The couple met and fell in love on the set of “Supernatural” during the show’s fourth season. Now, 13 plus years later, they are raising three kids and a slew of animals in Austin. Like so many Americans, the family’s life was turned upside down at the start of the pandemic in March. Jared spent much of the last 15 years filming in Vancouver, B.C., flying home for long weekends and hiatus. “It was almost like a honeymoon in a way, because you don’t really delve into all the nitty-gritty daily monotonous stuff,” Genevieve, 40, recalled. “We went from seeing each other on average four to eight days a month, to living in the same house and not leaving the house, not working, not seeing anybody else because we didn’t know how dangerous this pandemic was going to be,” Jared explained. Eternal optimists, the Padaleckis took advantage of their time together, bonded with their children, tended to their growing menagerie and tried to find balance and a new routine. With “Walker” in production, it’s falling into place. “Actually having ... most people’s reality of having their spouses live with them and then go to work and come home — that’s honestly what we’ve been waiting for, for the last 13 years now,” Genevieve explained. “I get to go home at night and sleep in the same bed as my wife, as opposed to sleeping in an apartment in a foreign country,” Jared echoed. The comforts of home, the kids, the animals — among them chickens, dogs, bunnies, bees and a hedgehog — are all part of the Padalecki puzzle these days. “I’ve always called our house the ‘House of Chaos’ because we kind of enjoy a nice cacophony of animal noises and children and smells,” Genevieve laughed. Their pets even provided provisions for their neighbors during the lockdown. “We had a few neighbors who knew we had chickens, so they’re like, ‘Hey can I give you a bottle of wine and maybe get some eggs?’ It was like an old school Wild Wild West barter system,” Jared explained, adding that eventually they gave the eggs away. Every day, the couple and their children, Tom, 8, Shep, 7, and Odette, 3 go out to their chicken coop to check on and feed the birds. “It’s good for the kids,” Genevieve said. “I think it really helps them with responsibility and taking care and nurturing the animals and learning.” “I think Gen’s ultimate dream is to have a farm somewhere and no cell phone reception and be completely off the grid,” Jared mused. For now, they’ll stay in Austin, managing their chaos and putting their spin on a beloved television show. “I want to do it justice,” Jared said of the original “Walker, Texas Ranger,” while “also doing more justice to the world we find ourselves in now, so if we can find some way to marry the two then that sounds great.”

#Jared Padalecki #walker

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swordsandshields99 · 3 years ago

Link

Chapters: 4/6 Rating: Mature Day 5 - We are Family - TW: Depictions of character death; grief @cactuarkitty

Chapter Summary: After the suicide mission, Garrus goes to visit his family, and his mother one last time. Regret, grief, family, and bitter-sweet, beautiful closure.

When Garrus awoke on the Octavian Frigate, he forgot where he was for a moment. It took him a bit to gather his surroundings, taking deep breaths and calming his subharmonics. It'd been so long since he wasn't either on Omega, or a Cerberus ship. He heard the loud engines of the Turian frigate, the familiar humming of 100 Turian subharmonics ringing throughout the ship. Right. Family. He was on his way to see his family. For the first time in, well almost 3 years. He had been about to book a flight for Palaven when his sister, Solana, texted him saying they wouldn't be there. They were on a colony near Sur'Kesh. Where the Helios Medical Institute was located.

His family would never know, that it was his donation of Collector tissues, all the credits he had, and a wonderful letter of clearance from Mordin, that was the reason his mother had qualified for the treatment. From his father and sister's perspective, an anonymous donation allowed room for one more Turian patient. They'd' never know it wasn't anonymous, and it wasn't a donation. Garrus was broker than broke after that payment. They'd never know that after the mission on Horizon, he would have begged Mordin to send a sample to help his mother. Luckily for him, he only had to ask and Mordin was more than happy to help. He also knew, that without the Salarian's clearance, it still wouldn't have been enough to get the project running in time to help his mom.

And even for all that, it still wasn't fast enough to truly help her. At first, it seemed it might slow down her disease. But only for a few months before she took a turn for the worse.

Garrus stood at the docking bay doors, waiting for his cab. When it arrived, he got in without a word and punched in the facility's name. The computer did the rest. He spent the drive trying to figure out what he would say. He had decided a long time ago not to inform his family about the money and the tissue samples. As much as it had done to help her, and as much as it had relieved his family from the pressures of trying to care for her at home, it was nothing compared to the fact that he wasn't there for them.

Yes, his mission this past year with Shepard was important. Important enough, or he wouldn't have done it. But the two years before that? Omega? No, not only could he not tell them about that anyway without enduring a shame he didn't think he could shoulder, he should have been at home. He should have been helping. So now what? Lie? Say that his past mission was three years instead of one?

There was no way in hell he would lie. Never to his family. Not to most, but never to them. So what? He knew, while his father might just be disappointed enough not to even ask, his sister would.

He stood outside the facility doors, before taking a deep breath and going in. He pulled up his omni-tool to send a group text.

G: Dad, Sol, I'm here. What room #?

D: Room 203

S: I'll come get you.

It only took Sol 45 seconds to enter the lobby, their father in tow behind her. He knew the second they saw him. Sol's shocked face, her mandible's splaying out in horror. His dad's pained subharmonics.

Sol didn't know. Couldn't have known. When he finally made contact again, he refused to vid-call, always coming up with excuses. And after he called his father right before he thought he was about to die, well maybe his father was expecting as much.

"Garrus," Sol said, a bit breathless. "Spirits, what happened to you?" Sol had grown up tough. Always trying to keep up with her big brother. And she always succeeded. Garrus wasn't sure what she did after her initial period of service, but even he didn't have the military clearance to know what she was up to. But in this moment, she was the most tender he had ever seen her. She reached her hand out tentatively, holding the side of his face that was horribly mangled and scarred. Her subharmonics were ringing, part sadness, part shock, and the smallest bit of 'ick'.

"Missile to the face," he said, the same joke (that wasn't actually a joke) he'd be making for the rest of his life.

Castis walked up to his son, head held high, hands clasped behind his back. "This happen after our phone call?"

Garrus' subharmonics wavered, sounding with a certain acceptance and gratefulness. His father's brow plates rose when he heard it. Perhaps the old man wasn't expecting gratitude at bringing up that phone call, but Garrus felt it none-the-less. He would always be grateful for that 50 second phone call. The one where his father gave him some peace when he thought he was in his final moments.

Castis could hear that from his son's subharmonics now. His hard exterior melted into a relieved one. Castis placed a hand on Garrus' shoulder, "It's good to have you back in one piece, Son." His own subharmonics rumbled with relief and, to Garrus' surprise, fatherly love.

Garrus fought down his emotions, "How's mom?"

They were both too silent. Garrus' knew that was answer enough. Sol's subharmonics wavered with regret and grief. His mother wasn't gone yet, but she would be soon. "Let's go see her," Castis said softly as he turned to lead his children to their mother's hospital room.

Garrus wasn't sure what he expected. The last time he saw his mother, she was forgetting things. She could never remember what she had just been doing, or where she left any of her things. She was forgetting who people were, like their neighbors. And it was so unlike her, his mother always with sharp wit and a sharper tongue, that it hurt all the more to see. Her hands and legs had been shaky, but if she concentrated she could control it. And that was three years ago. Corpalis Syndrome wasn't kind.

They entered the dimly lit room, monitor's beeping softly. "When she's sleeping, she's so peaceful that it's a relief. But, I always want her to wake up. So that I can be with her," Sol's second vocals wavered heavily, her subharmonics grief stricken. Hearing his sister cry was hard, even if they were both adults. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and squeezed.

Their mother gasped suddenly upon hearing them, her eyes shot open. She wheezed heavily, each breath a struggle. Her eyes darted around the room. Castis walked calmly to her side, "We're here, dear. You're alright."

"Who.. who are..." Garrus' mother began. If she didn't recognize Castis, there was no way in hell she'd recognize him. Especially with half his face blown off. "Ah... Cas-castis, dear." She stuttered horribly, her hands shaking uncontrollably as she tried desperately to clasp her bond-mate's hand. Castis reached out and held her hand tightly, but even that wasn't enough to stop the shaking. "Castis, I d-d-don't want t-to be h-h-here. P-please, where are we? T-t-take me home?!" Her voice was pain-stricken. Her subharmonics were wavering wildly, changing from scared to angry every other sentence. Garrus had never heard his mother sound scared a day in his life.

Garrus' felt Sol squeeze his hand as she whispered, "Dad thinks she's been waiting to see you Gar. She's been holding on."

Garrus' throat tightened and his hide itched at the thought. Had she? Spirits.

"We're here so you can be more comfortable, I promise my bonded," Castis said in a soothing tone.

"She'd want to be at home at the end. But the medicine is keeping her as comfortable as we can manage. Without it, she'd be in too much pain. Everything is just... shutting down so quickly," Sol said quietly.

"Look, bonded, the kids are here to see you."

Garrus' mother looked at the pair. "Kids... we have kids?"

Garrus felt horrified, but Sol acted like it was just another Tuesday. "Hi mom, it's Solana," his sister said as she approached the bed so her mother could see more clearly.

"Sol! When did you get here?" his mother said happily, chirping as if Sol was 10 years old. "Are you being good?"

"Yes, I promise," Solana said with a forced laugh. Sol looked back at him and gave him a forceful look.

So he stepped forward. "Hi mom, it's me, Garrus," he said, taking his sister's lead.

"Garrus. You're not Garrus," his mother said, furry in her eyes. "Not my Garrus." His mother looked at Castis then, "Garrus is at target practice out back, isn't that right Castis?"

"No dear, this is Garrus. Isn't he all grown up now? He's been away on a mission."

"A mission? My, aren't we so proud of him Castis," his mother said as she turned back to him. Suddenly, her eyes cleared and her subharmonics rang out with motherly affection and love. "Garrus... my Garrus. You've been hurt."

"Hey mom," Garrus said, relief flooding his bones. "Yeah, all better now though, promise."

She nodded. "You'll be alright. You'll see," she said with meaning behind the words. He felt like keening right then and there, but fought it down. She always knew what to say. She tried reaching out for him, so he got closer and held her other hand in his. "I love you, my son. I'm not sure what your mission was, or what your next one will be, but your mother always believes in you." And just as quickly as it came, the moment of clarity vanished. She wrenched her hand from his. "Who are you?" she said angrily. "Castis, where's Castis?!"

"I'm here," Castis said, grasping for control of his emotions. "I'm right here."

"Castis," she wheezed as she looked at her bond-mate. "It... it hurts."

Castis keened, his control slipping. He regained control of his vocals and subharmonics quickly and said, "I'll give you more medicine, bonded. Hold on."

"It hurts," his mother whispered. "It hurts, it hurts, it hurts." Her body stiffened and shook for a split second, and when she relaxed again continued quietly, "Castis, my hurt. My hurt. My hurt."

Castis fumbled with the button and pressed it twice, and slowly it seemed as if she had drifted to sleep. The family stood in silence for a moment before she whispered, "Castis. Take me to the window?"

"Bonded?" he asked, unsure if she was in her right mind or if she meant it.

"I long to see the stars again, just once," she wheezed.

Castis scooped her up in his arms, and Garrus saw just how tiny and fragile his mother was. Castis pinned down her arms, but her legs shook still. Garrus saw the cords getting pulled, so he pushed the medicine trolley behind them.

Castis brought her to the window and opened the curtains. Garrus thanked the Spirits the stars were visible that night. His mother gazed at the bright stars for a few silent moments with his father before she turned her head into Castis' chest and whispered, "Starlight and dancing?"

Castis chuckled softly. "Starlight and dancing. Always."

Garrus wasn't sure what it meant, but it was clearly meaningful to them.

The slow and erratic beeping of her heart monitor slowed. Castis went rigid, and Garrus heard the low, mournful rumblings of grief begin to form in his father's subharmonics. They listened to the heart monitor in silence, until 5 minutes later, it stopped. A Salarian doctor came to the door, and without disturbing anyone in the room, checked his mother's pulse. He made a note in his omni-tool. "I'm sorry," the doctor said quietly, and left the room.

Castis collapsed in the chair near the window, still holding his bond-mate in his arms. The rumble that Garrus heard earlier grew louder and louder until the subharmonics were nearly deafening. Garrus wasn't sure how humans couldn't hear something so loud. Something so utterly bone shattering. Solana began keening quietly, and he drew her close, hugging her tightly. And Garrus did what he always did. He shut it off. All of it. He clamped down as hard as he could on his subharmonics and was silent.

After 30 minutes passed, Solana's keening died down as she said, "I guess she was waiting for you."

And just like that, he shattered. He dropped to his knees and put his head in his hands, keening louder than he ever had as a child. He felt Sol kneel down beside him and embrace him as she too keened, but more softly. He felt his fathers hands on them, his subharmonics naturally rumbling comforting tones to his children. Garrus wasn't sure how long they stayed like that, but eventually he came back to himself. Sol had fallen asleep, so he picked her up and set her in the chair next to them. He looked over at the bed. His father must have placed their mother their before coming to them.

A different Salarian with a lab coat came in then. "I'm sorry for you loss, Vakarian clan. I wish there was more that could have been done." The Salarian turned to Garrus. "She was lucky to have such a devoted son. With your permission, the Institute would appreciate keeping the samples and donations you sent. While we are incredibly sorry that it was not in time to help your mother, the research we are conducting now with the tissue samples you sent will most certainly help us find a cure, and many others in the future will be spared."

Garrus nodded his head numbly.

"Thank you, Mr. Vakarian." The Salarian turned to Castis. "Senior Vakarian, please take your time here. When you are ready, please indicate what you would like our next steps to be. We can take care of her here, or send her home to Palaven, but we must prepare her either way."

Castis nodded, and the Salarian left.

"What?" Sol suddenly asked. She must have woken from the Salarian.

"What?" Garrus asked.

"Samples and donations?"

Shit, he thought. Garrus sighed. His mind was fuzzy, and he didn't have the capacity to think clearly at the moment. He shook his head, trying to clear it.

"Garrus," his father said, his subharmonics sounding panicked. "Tissue samples... yours? Son, do you have Corpalis?" His father's second vocals wavered so intensely Garrus worried he might fall over. Sol's subharmonics joined in with panic.

"No! No. No, the... the samples, I," it took more than he had to explain the collectors right now.

"Son, please, I," Castis started.

"No, I promise, I don't. The tissue samples are... they're Collector tissue samples. I worked with an STG agent when we acquired them. We believed they showed capabilities to cure some neurological diseases. And it turns out we were right. I thought I'd have to wait until we went through Omega-4, but the Collectors came early. Sent in the tissue samples, with the Agent's approval to move ahead with the Institue's Corpalis project."

Castis was visibly relieved, and his knuckles turned white as he gripped the back of his chair. "Spirits," he said softly, his eyes closing.

"You... you did all that for mom?" Sol whispered. "And, donations?"

Garrus sighed, hanging his head heavily. He hadn't wanted this. Still didn't want this. "Every credit I've earned the past 3 years has gone to getting mom into the project." He stood angrily. "And it was all for nothing. I wasn't... I wasn't fast enough. It wasn't enough." His hands balled into fists, so tight his talons broke skin.

He felt Sol's hand on his arm. "Garrus, even if Dad and I had been able to save for 10 years, we couldn't have paid for mom's treatment. Do you have anything left?"

"I sold my apartment, and everything I own, and took every job I could take. And my last mission was assigned to be a suicide mission. I wasn't supposed to come back from that, but it paid well. Well enough to pay for 75% of the treatment."

"So, the missile incident wasn't even the suicide mission?" Castis said.

Garrus shook his head, "No, just a job gone wrong."

"I'm sorry," Sol said abruptly.

"For what, Sol?" he murmured.

"When we spoke before your last mission, I... well I thought you had just abandoned us. I was so harsh... so mean, and you were on your way to what, die in a mission while saving mom? Garrus, I had no idea."

"Sol, you couldn't have known. And even if you had known, you were still right. I wasn't here. Wasn't here for her."

"G, you were here for her. Fighting for her every day. You heard her, she believed in you. She knew you. You were doing what we couldn't. That's what families do."

Before he could argue, his father cut in. "Garrus, you said it was for nothing, that it wasn't fast enough," Castis said with a sigh. "Before she came here, it was worse than what you saw today. We weren't equipped.. I.. wasn't equipped to handle your mother's care. She needed around the clock care and medicine. She was lingering, not bad enough to die, but bad enough to be in constant misery. She couldn't talk, at all. Not at all. This treatment saved us. It saved her. Saved her spirit, her dignity, gave her peace and relief from the pain. It gave her," Castis choked up, "it gave her a much better end than what we could have given her. I would've given anything for that, for her." He walked up to his son, "Not enough? Garrus, it was everything."

#merweek2021 #merweek #mass effect relationships week #mass effect #mass effect 2 #mass effect 3 #garrus vakarian #castis vakarian #solana vakarian #i'm not crying you're crying #ok i'm totally crying #this was hard to write #my soul hurts

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banashee · 4 years ago

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It's midnight where I am, which means it's technically the 21st already 😁 Hi Folks, welcome to my fourth fic for the Archival Pride 2021 project! Look at their tumblr for more info :)

@archivalpride

Archival Pride 2021, Week four (June 21-28) Prompts: comfort, childhood, research, missing scene, statement

The key words I've used here are comfort, research (and arguably missing scene depending how you look at it)

So, this wasn't supposed to get nearly as long as it ended up being. But I enjoyed wirting this a ridiculous amount, and I hope you can find a bit of joy, comfort or anything else you're seeking as well.

Please mind the tags and content warnings for this one! It’s quite a bit heavier than my other entries for the Archival Pride 2021.

Content warnings: - Trauma, Grief - PTSD / Panic attacks - violent canon death of a sibling - coping - Nightmares - Canon-typical violence - Canon-typical Clowns / The Stranger - Death of a loved one - Canon-typical violence and thoughts of violence - Past underage kissing between consenting teenagers (nothing graphic and very PG) - breif internalized Bi-Phobia in the past - brief mention of past Ace-Phobia - strong language - TMA season 3 spoilers, even though this story is set pre-canon.

Whispers in the Dark

The first time Tim meets Jonathan Sims is when he sets down a small cardboard box and a stack of files onto a desk. More precisely, his own new place at the desk he just got assigned.

Tim just started out with his new job and he smiles, even though he is barely holding himself together at this point. He hopes no one will ask too many questions - it’s not like he plans on telling anyone what made him seek out the institute in the first place. It’s way too personal, and way too much to handle.

So he’d lied in the job interview, spun some story about wanting a new challenge. Mr. Bouchard didn’t question it, and Tim would like to think that is because his CV and education are rather high quality, which he isn’t shy about. Not at all - he is proud of his achievements, and rightfully so. But Tim can’t shake the feeling that his new employer had looked at him oddly, like he knows something that no one else does. It had been deeply unsettling, and if Tim thinks too much about it, it causes the hairs on the back of his neck to stand up straight.

Despite his gut feeling telling him something else, Tim decides to chalk it up to nerves and his… Current situation, so to say. He is more jumpy, more paranoid than he used to be, which isn’t surprising. He has seen things, lived through things that he wouldn’t know how to explain if anyone asked. But overthinking it won’t get him anywhere.

So, he puts on a bit of the show, something that looks like his usual happy-go-lucky personality. Loud, brash, flirty and wicked smart, just like he always has been. It feels incredibly fake to him, but then again, no one here knows him. No one has ever met him before… Before. They don’t know. They don’t know . None of them ever sees him when the mask falls, home alone, in a house that feels too big and too empty with Dany gone and - no.

“Don’t go there, Stoker, just don’t. Get through the day, see what you can find out and go home. Get back tomorrow, rinse and repeat. You can do this.” he tells himself and plasters on a smile that almost hurts.

As he sets down the box and his files, he greets his new coworker and desk-neighbor.

“Hi, I’m Tim, nice to meet you!” ( “be happy, sound happy, god dammit” he thinks, then reminds himself that this guy won’t know the difference.)

The man on the desk opposite of him looks up from his computer which he’d previously looked at with intense concentration. It seems to take him a moment to catch up, then he nods and there is the hint of a very small smile on his face.

“Oh, erm, hi. Welcome.” he says, like someone who isn’t used to interacting with too many people. And maybe he isn’t - Tim wouldn’t know. He almost moves on and accepts that he won’t get a name from his new desk neighbor, but then he hears him say,

“Jonathan. Jon is fine, too.”

And then, as if he never said anything, he focuses back onto the screen in front of him and starts typing furiously.

“Thanks!” Tim says, probably just a tad too loud and too enthusiastically, but he doesn’t get a response this time. Okay, awkward. He isn’t sure if Jon is ignoring him or if he just doesn’t realize that he is being talked to - judging from the very brief, first impression of him that Tim got, both options might be entirely possible.

As the days go by, they don’t interact a lot besides basic politeness and the occasional question or comment about something work related.

The first time Tim ever really talks to Jon, is when he witnesses the man climb a bookshelf in the library like a fucking tree. No kidding. Tim blinks, and for the first time in a long while, he feels a real, genuine laugh bubble up in his chest. What the hell? He steps closer, next to the large, antique bookshelf that his coworker is currently clinging to, pulling books from a shelf that is over his head still.

“Jon, hi.” Tim says, watching the scene in front of him unfold. This is not something he expected, least of all from the coworker who never seems to say or do anything mildly interesting. So much for the first impression - the second impression is something entirely different, and it is this very moment that Tim decides that he likes the guy.

The sound of Tim’s voice addressing him directly makes Jon turn his head.

“Hi. Can I help you?” he asks, brusk and matter of fact, as if there wasn’t anything odd about this situation.

“...I was going to ask you the same?” Tim offers, mildly amused as he finds himself kind of impressed when Jon manages to shrug with his hands full like that. While clinging to the shelf, because what even?

“No. Why? I’ve already got what I need.” Jon jumps down from the wooden board he’d been standing on, and it is only now that Tim realizes they’d been on eye level before. Now… Not so much. They never stood next to each other up until this moment, he realizes.

He’s only been here for about a week, but whenever Tim arrives at the office, Jon is already there, at his desk and working. He never gets up for lunch, only ever seems to leave the room to pick up or drop off books from the library, and by the time everyone else has left, Jon remains seated at his desk. If he wasn’t changing out his clothes, Tim would have been convinced that Jonatahn Sims simply plugs himself into a wall socket to recharge for the next day. Or maybe sleeps under his desk or something.

“Just… You know what, nevermind.” Tim has come to the very correct conclusion that he better just accept this as it is. It seems easier. Much, much easier than arguing with someone over nothing, even though Tim feels like punching a wall or two some days. But that is not his coworkers fault, and he doesn’t want to mess up the chance to get to know him because he is cute.

Tim doesn’t even question this train of thought anymore.

At some point in between meeting the man for the very first time and… well, this, he must have filed away the odd combination of grandfather cardigans, chipped dark nailpolish and neatly tied up hair, combined with that deep warm voice and decided that yes, this person is attractive.

To be fair, it doesn’t take Tim long to fall for people - it never has. He just didn’t expect to spend any time really looking at someone, now that his life has gone sideways in so many horrible ways.

Turns out he’d been wrong.

Finding something attractive about a person, no matter their gender or any physical attributes, is the easiest thing in the world to Tim. Ever since he can remember, he has enjoyed looking at people. Tim likes soft curves just as well as sharp angles, and has spent many many hours of his life getting lost in people's eyes. Sometimes, he’d caught himself staring when talking to a friend, losing himself in the depth of warm brown eyes with specks of gold, watery blue, light grey or green with specs of hazel and anything in between.

Tim vividly remembers a game of spin the bottle when he was a teenager and sat on the floor with a group of friends and classmates. Of course, there had been many dares to kiss someone, and he had happily taken them whenever possible.

At the time, Tim wasn’t sure about himself at all, because he’d only known that he finds people attractive, but all everyone around him had talked about was if you were gay or straight, if the question was even asked. Mostly, they just assumed whatever seemed convenient at the time.

No one tells Tim about the meaning of the word “Bisexual”, or even about the word itself until he is in college. But he knows how he feels, even though he is lacking the word for it for many years

Once he finds out, Danny is the first person he tells about it. Tim calls him that same night, sitting in a quiet corner of the dorm as he excitedly tells his little brother that he found a word to relate to himself and his feelings for other people.

“There are other people who feel that way, Danny. There is nothing wrong with me and there is a word for it!” he tells him in a hushed but excited voice, fumbling on a loose thread in a hole of his jeans. Those trousers have long been frayed into shreds but Tim refuses to part with them.

His voice is shaking with excitement, and he may or may not be holding back happy tears. This is a big moment for him, and because Danny is literally the best - not just because he answered his phone at fuck-o-clock in the morning when his brother called - he reacts with nothing but support.

“I might have a few questions, but I love you. No matter what. I’m happy for you.” he tells him, and in that moment, Tim couldn’t be happier or prouder of his younger brother.

The game of spin the bottle a few years earlier was the one of the first things that taught Tim that he finds many many things to be interested in and attracted to. It taught him that he is attracted to the many different ways people feel, and it hasn’t changed ever since.

Over the years, Tim finds himself falling in love quick and hard with a number of people, and none of them are ever the same. Each and every person is unique, in their looks and size and voice and feelings - and every single one is loveable just as they are.

“You do have a thing for certain types of voices though.” Tim thinks, and maybe that is the culprit here, now that he is standing in the library of the Magnus Institute and faced with Jonathan Sims, who looks up at him with one raised eyebrow. Oh shit, has he been staring the entire time?

Before Tim can think too much about it, or god forbid, overthink it, he hears his mouth blurt out without his brains permission,

“So do you want to come to lunch later? There is a café not far from here that I’ve never been to.”

Jon stares back for a moment, like this isn’t something he expected. Truth be told, he didn’t. But just when Tim starts thinking that he’ll decline, Jon nods slowly.

“Yes, I suppose. Just… Let me know before you’re going. I tend to, well, I tend to get lost a bit when I’m working and chances are I won’t notice how much time has passed.” he explains, and this is probably the first time he said anything personal besides his name.

“Sure, no problem. I’ll just put a giant sticky note on your monitor.” Tim offers him with a grin and wink, and as he turns around, he could swear that he catches a real smile on Jon’s face.

Tim actually does put a note on Jon’s screen though. As he was warned, all attempts to verbally get his attention have failed, so Tim scribbles a quick note for Jon.

The sticky piece of paper is bright pink and obnoxious, and all that Tim has written on it is “Lunch time!” in big bold letters, accompanied by a smiley face. He manages to walk up behind Jon, stick it right in the middle of his computer monitor and get back around to his own desk to gather his jacket and wallet before Jon squints at it through slim, rectangular glasses and blinks a few times before he remembers the conversation from earlier. Then, there is a small hint of a smile on his face, very similar to the one Tim caught in the library earlier.

He gathers his things and leaves the office with Tim, and the two of them walk next to each other comfortably as they make their way to the café.

Surprisingly, the lunch break together isn’t nearly as awkward as it could be, or should have been, really. Jon doesn’t talk much at first, and Tim has a feeling he himself is talking way too much without actually saying anything, just so his brain doesn’t drift off into the wrong direction. But then, it’s like the air has left his lungs and there is a minute or two of slightly awkward silence.

Then, Jon clears his throat and asks,

“So, did you know that snails can sleep for three years at a time?”

When Tim, surprised by the question, shakes his head, Jon starts talking about the topic in great detail as he fiddles with the edge of his napkin the whole time. Somehow, this of all things breaks the ice, and Tim finds himself to be able to breathe a little bit easier.

Even more so, he is enjoying this. He isn’t sure what he expected when he asked Jon to join him for lunch. Maybe it was just the urge for human interaction and to not be alone, which he supposes is fair enough. But he certainly didn’t expect random information about nature phenomenons. All Tim knows is that he feels better after their first break together, and after that, spending the break together becomes A Thing.

What he learns pretty fast is this: Jon is an info dumper when he feels comfortable enough to do so. As it turns out, Jon isn’t very picky with his topics, either. They range from science phenomena to weird, interesting nature facts and anything else that catches his interest.

Tim also learns that, if he is in the right company and being asked the right questions, he can hold monologues that could last for hours. He figures that one out when Jon drops a fun fact about 19th century architecture, and without thinking, picks up the loose end of the sentence and continues,

“Oh, yes, did you know that…” and thus, without even realizing it, Tim spends the entire lunch break talking about it - he is passionate about the topic, but he leaves out the details about the Covent Garden Theatre. It just hurts too much to think about, but other than that, Tim is excited about the topic. He gets so carried away and rambles on and on and on, he only stops when Jon and him get back to the institute. It takes even longer for Tim to catch up and realize that Jon just paid for both lunches while he went off on a monologue about Robert Smirke architecture. But when he tries to pay him back, Jon just waves him off.

“Don’t worry about it. Besides, your lecture was very interesting, I didn’t want to interrupt.”

From anyone else, this might have been a dig - but coming from Jon, Tim knows by now, it is a genuine statement that makes him way happier than it should.

So, their lunch breaks together quickly turn into a tradition,

Tim isn’t entirely sure what is more surprising; the fact that he manages to get Jon to actually leave his desk for human needs like food and social interaction, or that the two of them are enjoying it so much.

Sometimes, they go to cafés or restaurants, trying out places that neither of them has been to before. It turns into them picking favourites, and then they become regulars at a small handful of places. Sometimes they simply go on a quick walk to pick up some food, other times they sit down and enjoy being out of the office for a little bit.

One day, Tim arrives in the office early, and he brings lunch from home for Jon and himself for the first time.

Tim has spent the previous night wide awake, unable to rest after a nightmare startled him out of a deep sleep. It takes a long time to get his breathing back under control, and very late at night, or very early in the morning, depending how you look at it, Tim gives up on sleep. After hours of useless tossing and turning, he won’t be able to rest, he knows from experience.

Cursing under his breath, he pulls aside the covers and takes a few deep, shuddering breaths. Exhausted, both in a physical and emotional sense, he scrubs a hand over his face.

The memories linger, and Tim feels like his whole chest is pulled together with anxiety and grief. Seven months. That’s how long it has been since he found Danny sitting in his dark living room in the middle of the night, crying silent tears as he had no idea what to do besides be there for him and offer comfort. Seven months since he followed his younger brother to the Royal Opera House Covent Garden and had to watch him being torn apart.

Carefully, Tim forces himself to keep breathing as evenly as possible. In - hold - out - hold - in - rinse and repeat. His hands are shaking, and he tries to force them into stillness as he grips hard at the rumpled bed sheets.

Attempting to go back to sleep is useless, he knows from experience, and so he makes his way down into the kitchen.

This house feels too big, too empty without the presence of his little brother. He left a hole in his life, and even though it’s been months since Danny died, Tim hasn’t moved a single one of his possessions. Not yet - it hurts too much.

Despite having been alone for a while now, Tim is still careful to leave the lights out in the hallway, walking as quietly as he can in the middle of the night as if there was still someone around he could wake up with his movements. It’s a long standing habit, and he isn’t sure he’ll ever shake it off.

It’s only when he arrives in the kitchen that Tim switches on the overhead light. It flickers to life, slowly, and the small kitchen is tinted into a warm light. Warm and homely, like this house once was. Now, it just feels painfully empty.

With a long sigh, Tim makes his way to the sink and fills up a glass with water - his hands are still shaking and he spills a bit onto himself, but he doesn’t care. Caring about it is too much right now, so he focuses on draining the glass empty before refilling it again. He feels dehydrated, but given the night he’s had so far, it isn’t surprising.

“I need a distraction.” he mumbles, and soon enough, he’s raided the pantry and his refrigerator. Tim pulls out some pots and pans from the cupboard, scattering everything throughout his kitchen where it’ll be most convenient. The repetitive tasks of cooking have always had a relaxing effect on him, and soon enough, the room is filled with scents and aromas that make his mouth water. Even now, while he is absolutely miserable.

The casserole ends up being huge. It’s way too much for one person, even one with an appetite. But cooking for one after being used to there being someone else is hard - kind of useless, while you’re already at it.

Tim has had that problem ever since he’s been cooking on his own, but knowing that Danny will be back to join him again, freshly back from some cave diving or urban exploration or whatever other strange new hobby he’d found at the time.

Now, Tim is all on his own. He sighs unhappily. Cooking was a good distraction, up until he is painfully reminded that no one is there anymore to share it with. Not here, at least.

He allows himself a few minutes of quiet greif, seated at the kitchen table with his head in his hands and a lukewarm cup of tea, sitting on the table by his side, almost forgotten.

By the time the sun is starting to rise, Tim is up and moving again. He has put the casserole in several plastic boxes and packs two of them into his work bag.

When he arrives at the office, way earlier than he usually does, because what is the point of staying home doing nothing, Tim places one of the boxes at the edge of Jon’s desk.

Jon seems to be mildly surprised by the early company, and even more so by the plastic box.

“Oh, Good morning... What is this?” he asks then, mildly curious.

“Lunch. I was cooking last night and it was way too much. Thought I’d bring some in to share.” Tim forces a smile along with the half-lie, if only to cover how tired he is. He needs coffee.

The “Thank you” Tim gets in response is equally surprised and genuine, and he tries very carefully to not interpret too much into it. Especially because their shared meal feels a lot more homely and strangely intimate that day. Getting takeout together or sitting somewhere is one thing, but sharing a home-cooked meal is something entirely different, he finds. He also finds that he doesn’t mind it.

Only a few days later, conveniently when every last bit of the casserole is gone, Tim finds a plastic box that isn’t one of his own sitting on his desk. Curiously, he opens it and finds it filled to the brim with homemade curry, rice and veggies. Even cold, it smells heavenly and makes his mouth water. Tim looks over to the desk opposite of him, where Jon is already typing away like he usually does, but when he looks up and finds Tim smiling brightly at him, he smiles back.

Something in his chest feels incredibly warm and fluttering.

One evening, when the two of them get out of the office equally late - Jon because he always does, and Tim because he may or may not have waited for him - they walk to the tube together.

In a spontanous fit of bravery and “Oh well, fuck it”, Tim carefully rechaes out until his own fingers gently brush against Jon’s as they walk. It’s dark outside, only illuminated by the countless lights that illuminate the shops and pubs and the sides of the street they’re walking along. Tim does so casually and carefully enough to be ignored or taken as a coincidence if needed be, just in case. But then his heart almost stops for a second when after a moment of stiffness, Jon accepts the offer and closes his own fingers around Tim’s.

His touch is light at first, but then his grip tightens a bit, warm and comfortably so, and it is clear that his heart is in it. Of course it is - the two of them have gotten close in the last few weeks and months. There might have been some wishful thinking on Tim’s end involved - Jon is not always great at picking up social cues, especially romantic ones.

“That’s fine though” he tells him later, “You’re a huge enough flirt to make it up for the both of us.”

Jon squeezes his hand, and Tim happily squeezes back as he keeps walking beside him, just a little bit closer than before.

He can’t help but smile. Something like happiness blooms in his chest, and even though they don’t talk about it the entire way, even though they keep holding hands when they sit next to each other in the tube, they remain this close all the way until their ways separate and they have to get onto a different line each. It feels right, and the sudden loss of touch as their ways separate makes Tim wish it could last - but turning back and running after the other train seems kind of silly now, especially since he’ll see Jon again the very next day.

This becomes A Thing as well. Touching, that is.

Holding hands, brushing along each other when they reach for folders or mugs or books in the library. Speaking of which, Tim has learned very quickly that there is no way to stop Jon from literally climbing high spaces to reach whatever he needs. As of now, he is long used to watching him scale a bookshelf or kitchen counter, much to his own amusement.

“Hold on tight, little monkey.” he tells him as he walks past, grinning from ear to ear, knowing full well that he can’t expect more than a scoff and,

“Oh, shut up.” as a response.

Tim keeps it up though - because it’s fun and he knows he’s allowed to get away with it. Which can’t be said for anyone else in the institute, not like anyone would have tried as far as he knows. But he is ridiculously proud of it nonetheless. Tim is still cackling to himself when he wraps an arm around the other man’s shoulders and keeps chatting away to him all the way back into the research offices.

He has always been very openly affectionate, with family, friends and romantic partners or those he’d fancied. It’s part of who he is, and if he is honest with himself, it feels good to have some part of him back that’s always been there. It helps a bit, and even more so since Jon not only happily lets him, he also leans back into the touch. Jon’s attempts at seeking out touch are a lot more subtle than Tim’s, at least at first, but he knows and recognizes it for the sign of trust and comfort that it is.

That afternoon, there isn’t much time to chat at their desks, but about an hour before they’re supposed to get off, a balled up piece of paper hits Tim’s hand, clearly coming from Jon, but the sneaky bastard isn’t giving indication that he stopped reading at all.

With a small smile, Tim opens the note. It’s not like Mr. Workaholic to pass notes on the clock, but then again, he has to give Jon credit for loosening up significantly since the day they met. Or, maybe warmed up to human company is more like it. (He very carefully tries not to think, or more like hope, that it's him in particular Jon has warmed up to so much. But then again, Tim has heard some of their coworkers whisper in astonishment that it’s completely unheard of that Jonathan Sims leaves his desk for breaks or in time in the evenings, let alone interacting with other human beings more than absolutely necessary. Tim also caught the rumors about the two of them being a couple - he’d almost laughed then. He fucking wishes .)

Tim unfolds the note and reads;

“I have a lot of leftover curry I made last night. Would you like to come over for dinner after work? - J.”

This has become A Thing, too. Sharing meals after work and sometimes on the weekends. It alternates where they go, but especially lately, they have preferred to go to either Tim’s house or Jon’s apartment instead of a restaurant. For one, going out to eat on a regular basis is expensive, but also, cooking together or eating the leftovers from a late night cooking binge is a lot more comfortable and homely.

Sharing a meal and oftentimes a couch with someone fills at least part of the void that Tim finds inside of himself. He is struggling still, but having another human being in his personal space, warm and alive and happy to be there, means the world to him. He’s feeling something again, something that isn’t constant fear or everlasting sadness.

They watch movies sometimes - it’s not exactly easy to find something that both of them like . Their tastes in movies are widely different from each other, so instead, they opt to choose obscure sci-fi movies or anything they can pick apart and make fun of. No horror - they haven’t talked about it, but this is one of the few movie-related things they are in silent agreement over.

Truth be told, poking fun at bad movies together is much more entertaining than watching anything the normal way.

They are stuffing their faces with snacks and complain at the protagonists for making very unwise or straight up unrealistic decisions, even in-universe illogical ones. They pick apart plot-points and anything that doesn’t add up while they share space on the couch, either holding hands or leaning against one another.

“Oh, of course, give me a break!” Jon grouses as he shakes his hand that is currently holding a few crisps at the TV, annoyed to no end, it seems. In truth, he is enjoying this. He enjoys this an awful lot, and so does Tim.

He laughs out loud and pulls Jon a little closer to his side.

“Yes, you tell the creepy alien why it’s mere existence even in this fictional universe doesn’t make sense, Love!” He eggs him on, and only realizes the pet name has slipped out of his mouth by the time he notices the deep blush creeping on Jon’s face. Oh shit.

“Now don’t say anything to fuck this up, for once in you life, just shut up!” Tim thinks to himself, carefully trying to remain as calm as he can. They’ve been holding hands for ages and they keep cuddling up on the couch - this isn’t anything unexpected, for heaven’s sake. Hell, if Jon were anyone different, they might have ended up in bed already, but Tim is aware that this probably isn’t going to happen anytime soon - or at all, if he isn’t entirely mistaken, based on the hints and observations. First and foremost the slow and careful way in which their relationship to each other is changing and developing, but then again, he knows what the simple black ring on the middle finger on a person’s right hand usually means.

Tim doesn’t ask though - he figures that if Jon wants to talk about it, he will do so eventually and at his own pace.

So, Tim doesn’t push anything and carefully waits for a response. But there isn’t one, or at least nothing verbal. Instead of saying anything, neither to Tim or about the movie, Jon simply scoots a little bit closer to him, leaning against him and doesn’t let go of his hand. Tim takes this as a win and leans his head against the tuft of long black hair that tickles his cheek.

Both of them relax in an instant, and if they end up falling asleep on the couch, legs a tangled mess and with the TV still on, well, the next morning isn’t nearly as awkward as it might have been once upon a time.

It takes Tim, way longer than it should to realize that, for the first time in a long while, he didn’t startle awake screaming that night. Company helps. It helps a lot. Just knowing that there is someone else, that he isn’t alone and doesn’t have to wake up to an eerily empty house anymore helps.

Tim doesn’t fool himself into thinking that everything will magically resolve itself - he knows it won't, especially because his research about the circus isn’t going anywhere yet.

Sometimes, he feels guilty. Guilty for not spending every waking minute searching for hints, searching for answers to the things that have taken his brother and traumatized him for life. The calmer, logical part of his brain is aware that it doesn’t work like that - he needs a break sometimes, needs the time to himself and spend it with other people…. And goddammit, he deserves to be happy.

Danny would have kicked his arse if he could hear him think this, would have told him to get a grip and do something that makes him happy. Because this is what scares him sometimes - the happiness, the times where he doesn’t think of the Royal Opera House in Covent Garden or circuses and… Skin. Just the thought alone makes him shudder, but he can’t stop thinking about those memories sometimes.

“...Are you alright?”

Tim blinks, not having realized that he must have zoned out. He’s still on the couch, slowly waking up and with Jon tucked somewhere next to him. He doesn’t sound very awake yet, but there is concern in his voice as he fixes Tim with a very direct look.

“I- yes, just. Zoned out a bit there.” Tim shoots him his best bright smile, hoping he’ll be able to chase away the ghosts. At least for now. He sighs, and happily leans into the touch and hugs back when he can feel a pair of slim arms snaking around his waist. Jon doesn’t say anything, but he seems to pick up that something is bothering Tim. And much like him in emotional situations, Jon doesn’t know what to say. So he remains close and thankfully, this is exactly what Tim needs right now. Just being close to someone he cares a whole lot about, feeling their heartbeat near his own. Being held for a bit. He squeezes Jon in silent gratitude for being there, and hopes he can get across what he can’t say.

It is Saturday and they have a whole weekend in front of them. After they peel themselves off of the couch, they stumble off to the bathroom after one another and then to the kitchen in an attempt to fuel themselves with tea and breakfast. It’s painfully, beautifully domestic.

While he is keeping an eye on several pans on the propane stove, Tim is chatting away about something - he isn’t exactly sure himself, except it is something pointless that distracts him from his earlier train of thought. Jon and him are laughing and joking while they drink tea and prepare breakfast together. But after a while it looks like Jon wants to say something, stops himself, and then more of the same all over again.

Eventually, Tim can’t watch him struggle over it anymore and straight out asks,

“Hey. What’s going on in that fuzzy head of your’s?”

It’s true - both of them still have a severe case of bed-heads, and Jon huffs at the question and tries to smooth down a few of the stubborn flyaways around his face. Only very mildly successful.

“I… Was going to ask something.”

“Alright? Shoot.” Tim very, very carefully swallows the joke he was about to make in the end - if this is going where he hopes it might, he doesn’t want one god awful pun to be part of the memory of it. So he waits.

Jon seems to be bracing himself, and then he turns around to face Tim.

“I would like to kiss you. Is that okay?” he asks. A simple question, and yet - it means so much. Tim smiles at him, heart beating out of his chest as he steps closer to Jon.

“Yes, I’d love that.”

There are only mere inches separating them. Both Jon and Tim cross the last of the distance at once, hands searching for each other. Their fingers are interlacing tightly as soon as they touch, and just a split second later, their lips meet for the first time. There is no rush, nothing in this world that would get them to hurry anything up at this moment. Slowly, they kiss again and again, tasting faintly of the tea they had earlier, but even more so, it feels like comfort. Maybe even a little bit like home.

A quiet happiness settles deep into them, and something seems to click into place. They are happy, and there is nowhere they’d rather be than anywhere, as long as they can be together.

After a little while, their hands let go of each other, but only so they can pull one another closer. One of Tim’s hands is cupped around Jon’s cheek, thumb gently stroking over the soft stubble while his other arm remains wrapped around him, hand resting at the small of his back. Jon on the other hand, has to angle his head up a bit due to their height difference, but he doesn’t mind that at all. Both of his arms are wrapped around Tim’s torso, and if it was possible, he would like to remain like this forever.

Unfortunately for the two of them, life has other plans.

When the smell of something burning registers with the two of them, they regretfully break apart cursing and laughing as they quickly remove the pans from the heat.

“That was - good lord, why now of all times?” Breathlessly and more than a little high from happy brain chemicals, they try to get a grip on themselves and on the situation.

“Just like our luck, isn’t it?” Tim is joking, of course, but still. The timing couldn’t have been worse.

“This better not become a habit.” Jon glares at the charred eggs and smoking pans as if they personally insulted him. He’d been having a good time, but of course something had to happen. Oh well.

“We’ll just have to make up for it.” Tim winks at him, grinning widely. He doesn’t mean much by it, and he only realizes how that might have come across when Jon awkwardly clears his throat and says,

“The kissing? Yes, absolutely. Other things… Well, most other things, actually… Not so much. I erm, I should have said that before now, I suppose. But, I’m Asexual.” he chooses his words slowly and deliberately, like he is trying to say them exactly right.

Tim looks into his eyes, bright green and shining with happiness, but now, there is something else creeping into them. Self-doubt, insecurities - Tim isn’t sure, but he wants to do his best to make the doubts disappear - and apologize for his big mouth.

“That’s absolutely fine. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that - I wasn’t implying anything else, I promise.”

Slowly, Jon nods, visibly relaxed now. He asks,

“So… We’re good?”

“We are. More than good actually, if you ask me.” Tim finds himself smiling again, which is something he’s been doing so much more lately. Then he tucks away a strand of hair from Jon’s face and kisses him again, just as gentle as before. He is happy to find that he returns the kiss in an instant, pushing close until the two of them end up pressed up against the kitchen table. After they break apart again, they remain standing in an embrace.

“I like you, Jon. I like you a lot. I love being around you and with you, just for who you are. Yes, I enjoy sex, but I don’t need it. So if you don’t want to, that is okay and it doesn’t make a difference to me. It doesn’t change how I feel about you.”

He nearly says, “I love you” but that might be a little early - saying it too early has ruined his relationships in the past, and although what Jon and he have is something different, Tim doesn’t want to risk it.

But as it turns out, he said the right thing. Jon looks a lot more relaxed than before, and he keeps a loose hold around Tim’s hips.

“Thank you, Tim, that’s… Very reassuring actually. I’ve been with people who reacted quite a bit differently to this, so” Jon shrugs, but it is clear that this isn’t a happy memory.

“I appreciate you.” He adds, and Tim pulls him a little bit closer.

“I’m sorry. These people fucking suck.”

“That’s one way to put it, yes.” Jon smiles, and pulls Tim down for another, longer kiss. It feels just as intoxicating as before. Then he tells him,

“And, just for the record. I like you a lot, and spending time with you makes me very happy.

The giddy happiness stays with them - being freshly in love and being freshly together is exciting. It is a feeling Tim will never get tired of. The thing is, being together with Jon doesn’t change a whole lot - they are still on opposite desks from each other at work, they still spend their lunch breaks together and Tim actually manages to get Jon to leave the office at 5pm these days, instead of late at night like he did for the longest time. They still have dinner together most days and they often spend their weekends together. All of these are things they did before, but now, it still feels… Different.

Then of course, there are the casually affectionate touches throughout the day. They’d like to think that they’re being more discreet here, but then again, at least Tim has never been shy about throwing arms around people or bumping shoulders or anything like that. In fact, people would probably get concerned and suspicious if he stopped doing any of it.

The point is: they keep it down to normal levels at work, but they seem to be glued together whenever they’re off the clock. Whether they hold hands, hug, kiss, bump shoulders, hips, arms or hands, or sometimes simply nap stacked on top of each other, they are always touching in some way. Both of them soak up the contact like sponges, and they know without having even talked about it in detail that they spent quite a bit of time lonely and touch starved before… This. Their relationship.

Waking up with one another in the mornings is probably Tim’s favourite part of all. Holding onto each other with their legs tangled together, hands searching for warm skin to rest on and heads pillowed on each other's shoulder or chest. Sharing breaths of air - all of this feels wonderful and intimate in it’s own way, and he can’t get enough of it.

Waking up in the morning is a peaceful thing. But some nights, unfortunately, are not. Both of them have nightmares on a regular basis. They find that they generally sleep better when they are not alone, and having someone to hold close or bury into when the lingering horrors hit, helps significantly.

Some nights, it’s Jon who startles awake in the middle of the night, eyes wide and chest heaving as he frantically looks around himself until he realizes where he is, or until Tim wakes up and mumbles quiet reassurances into his hair as he holds him close until the tremors have calmed down.

If they’re lucky, they manage to fall back asleep after a while, but if not, they simply stay awake, cuddled up under soft blankets and they just talk. Their topics of conversation vary widely, ranging from silly, lighthearted distractions to things they did or experienced in their past, as well as heartfelt conversations that are about much more than just that.

Tim himself has his fair share of nightmares as well, ever since he lost Danny. And even though having Jon close by and being held at night helps to keep them at bay sometimes, there are still nights where he startles awake either screaming or crying or both.

The first time it happens, Tim wakes up terrified and tangled in the sheets. His shirt clings to the cold sweat that is running down his back and his breath comes out in irregular, shaky bursts.

A dimly lit circus arena, old and dusty with centuries of dirt. Tim can’t move. It’s like he is rooted to the spot, and yet, his legs won’t stop shaking. He is shivering from the cold - no surprise, since he ran out in nothing but his pyjamas earlier, and this place is surprisingly freezing for a hot August night. Tim can feel the cold, but more so than anything, he is absolutely terrified.

He wants to scream, to run, do anything but stand here - but it’s impossible. The crumpled form of his brother - or the Thing that pretends to be Danny - sits motionless and hunched over, no matter how much Tim tries to call out for him. Not a single word leaves his throat, even though his vocal cords hurt from the strain he’s been putting on them. But Danny doesn’t hear him - can’t hear him.

From out of the shadows, Tim can see… Something. It looks like a clown, but it’s wrong. Too long, too folded up to be human. It drags itself across the floor slowly and grotesquely, like a creature from a horror movie, up until it stops. Unlike a movie creature though, this is very much reality.

Breathing is hard, and Tim wants to force his body to move, but still, there is nothing he can do. Part of him wants to believe that this… Place, this Thing is influencing his ability to move somehow, but then again, he might just as well be paralyzed by fear.

The clown moves forward, right towards Danny. As it unfurls itself, it is clear that there are smears of blood all over its face, red and bold and dripping wet.

“Shall I?” it asks, with a voice that is playful in the worst possible way. Too happy, and way too sinister. Tim can’t even answer, still unable to talk or move or do anything, but he can feel the bile rise in his throat. He wants to grab Danny and run, but knows he can’t. He wants to scream, cry or throw up, anything but watch the scene unfolding in front of him.

None of this happens though.

Instead, Tim is forced to stand motionless and helpless, watching in agony and horror as the clown moves much more quickly than he could have anticipated. It’s not as much that he can actually see the movement, but Tim can feel it. He can feel the breeze of air on his face, and just a split second later, it has removed the entirety of Danny’s skin. His limp, bloody and bare form slumps forward, and it is only then that Tim actually starts screaming.

He is screaming his head off, loud, desperate and terrified. Tim is shaking like a leaf. Breathing is impossible, and it takes him way too long to realize that in order to breathe, he needs to calm down for just a second. It takes even longer for him to realize that he is at home, safely in bed and long out of this situation. But Danny… Danny is just as dead.

Between ragged, forced breaths, Tim is curling in on himself, unable to register that Jon has woken up and is talking to him in a low, concerned voice. He tries to get his partner to calm down at least a bit, afraid he’ll end up hyperventilating from panic.

Tim doesn’t register any of it. He can’t make out Jon’s gentle voice trying to bring him back, doesn’t register the light, careful touch on his arm in an attempt to soothe without scaring him further. Tim curls himself into a tight, shaking ball without noticing any of it.

After the first initial panic, there is a brief moment of silence, but after that, he breaks. Ragged breath turns into uncontrollable, hiccuping sobs and it is only then that Tim realizes the familiar pair of arms slipping around him in a protective embrace. He uncurls just enough to be able to hug back and let Jon slip closer to him, which he does as soon as humanly possible. Tim clings onto him for dear life as Jon curls himself around him in what must be an uncomfortable or at least awkward position, but this is the last thing on his mind. All Jon cares about right now is making sure that Tim is okay, or at least, as okay as he can be.

Their bodies are pressed flush together, tightly enough for them to feel each other's rapidly beating hearts hammering out of their chests. Tim tries to focus on that, tries to focus on the carefully even rhythm of breath that Jon attempts to get him to follow.

His presence is constant, warm and comforting. Tim can feel his weight on top of himself, the hold of his arms around him. Strands of hair and warm breath on his neck are a familiar sensation as well, something he’s been getting used to lately. Even more so, it is something that Tim loves and associates with home by now. And while the fear and pain caused by his nightmare are still very much lingering, he is able to relax in order to calm down eventually. Slowly but surely, a little bit over the course of - he doesn’t even know how long.

Time has lost all meaning at this point. It might take him minutes or hours to breathe normally again, and at some point, Tim realizes that the steady stream of talking, besides the quiet attempts to comfort and assure him, are actually bits and pieces of random information. Anything to keep talking and keep up a steady presence, Tim supposes, but he is eternally grateful for it. He shifts a bit, arms still wrapped tightly around Jon, although he’s stopped clinging as much by now. He stretches out a little bit without letting go of their embrace - everything hurts from holding himself so tense for so long. Then Tim pulls the both of them onto their side so they can cuddle properly.

Gentle hands keep running through his messy mop of purple hair, blunt nails scratching against his scalp. Tim leans into it, soaking up the touch like a sponge. He’s stopped shaking now, he notices, and he registers a lot more sensations than he did before.

Little sounds around the house, wind outside, the occasional car. Most of all, he registers all the different little touches from Jon, and the way he keeps talking to him even now.

After a while, he leans in to kiss Tim’s forehead, thumbs wiping away a few stray tears. It seems like the worst of the storm is over by now, but Jon stays close. He’s never seen Tim in such a state, and it worries him to no end. At least it looks like he isn’t in severe panic anymore.

“Do you want to talk?” Jon asks quietly, but all Tim can manage is shake his head. It's not like he could talk right now if he tried. He doesn't trust his voice, knowing it will break, which is probably going to set him off again and he's not ready to face that.

Maybe, a part of him wants to talk about what happened. Sure, it is going to hurt regardless, whenever he decides he is ready for it, but there is no doubt that it will help to get it off of his chest. But Tim doesn’t know how he is supposed to talk about the horrors he's witnessed. Where would he even start? How does he explain all of it without sounding - well.

“That’s alright.” Jon tightens his hold around Tim as he shifts a little bit, without letting go, so he can rest his head on top of Tim’s. There is a quiet, almost suffocating sadness radiating off of him, and even though he doesn’t know what happened that got him into this state, Jon offers him all the support he can, in any way he knows how. Physical touch seems to help a lot, thankfully. That, he can do forever.

“I’m here for you. Whatever it is you need, I’m here.”

The sun is starting to rise on the horizon, but Tim and Jon remain in bed, wrapped up around each other just like before. Birds are starting to sing outside, even before the first rays of the morning sun tint the room into a low light.

“I love you. I’m here for you, and I love you.”

Notes:

#Archival Pride 2021 #Banashee writes #tma fanfic #JonTim #the magnus archives #tw trauma #tw death #tw blood and violence #mind the tags and CWs please

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sp3mily · 4 years ago

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Vulnerable

Summary: You’ve lost protectors before, haven’t you? Spencer Reid had lost so many protectors over the course of his life. That’s what made it so hard, history repeating itself.

CW/Tags: Description of death (not graphic though), not really much to see here, it’s just a character study essentially

Word Count: 2021 (this is total coincidence but isn’t that kinda funny?)

Spencer Reid had lost so many protectors, but he hadn’t truly realized it until she pointed it out to him. Sure, he’d had fleeting thoughts about the people he’d loved and lost, but he’d never realized how many he’d lost. He’d lost more protectors than there were words in the sentence that made him realize it. While all of them had their reasons for moving on, it didn’t mean it didn’t hurt. It didn’t mean he didn’t worry about who was going to be next.

Spencer’s first time accepting the loss of a protector came when he was just ten years old. With no more than a letter with a bullshit explanation, his father left. He hadn’t known what to feel. He thought he should’ve been sadder than he was, but he wasn’t. He tried to make himself be sad, but he couldn’t. He wasn’t sad, but he noticed how things changed. He noticed how the people in the neighborhood looked at him differently now that he was William Reid’s kid. No longer was he the son of the successful lawyer who was dedicated to his family despite the idiosyncrasies of his wife and son. They all saw him as the scrawny, weak son of Diana, the woman that had driven her husband away with her polluted mind. He didn’t realize that his father was his protector until years later when another protector vanished from his life.

Then, was his mom. She wasn’t really gone, he didn’t really lose her, but she’d taken on a different role in his life. He wasn’t sure when he really lost her as a protector. Maybe she never really was one. He’d taken care of himself for most of his childhood and he’d moved away to college when he was 12. It didn’t really hit him until he was 18 and he had to make some hard decisions. She wasn’t doing well on her own and he had the authority to get her some help, even though she didn’t want it. She didn’t want it, but it was what was best for her, right? He had to do what was best for her. He didn’t want to see her hurting anymore. He’d gotten her moved into a sanatorium. She hated it, for a really long time she hated it, until she settled in and started making friends. Being social. Then she didn’t hate it quite so much. Doesn’t mean it lessened his guilt. Didn’t mean that she wasn’t there to protect him anymore. He wasn’t the kid he used to be back in Las Vegas, but some days he wished he could curl up in her lap while she read him Chaucer and ran her fingers through his floppy brown hair. He missed when he could bury his head in the crook of her neck and smell the soft perfume she knew calmed him down. The protective shield she provided when things got too hard was gone.

He finally understood what he thought he should’ve felt when his dad left, when Gideon left. Jason Gideon, the man he’d looked up to for years, vanished just like his father. Left a note for him to read and use to explain to the people around him why everything became too much. Why leaving was the right move, the only right move. He was twenty-six years old yet he managed to feel reduced down to his ten-year-old self when he opened the envelope. He felt so vulnerable, so afraid. So lost. That’s when he understood what it felt like to lose a protector. One that protected you on purpose. One that made sure no one saw you as a little kid because you weren’t a little kid anymore. He found himself clinging to what little there was of Gideon left in his life. He kept their last chess game alive while he tried to grieve the loss of the relationship.

Spencer managed to live a few years of peace. Three and a half years of peace, actually. No one left, no one disappeared with only a note tucked away in a drawer, no one withered away until they were a shell of what he knew them as. Three and a half years. He should’ve seen it coming. The loss. He’d been happy for far too long, it should have been obvious that it would all come crashing down soon. And down crashing did it come, in the worst way. You see, the others were different. His father and surrogate father figure had left voluntarily and his mother, really she didn’t leave at all. Spencer could still hold out hope that one day Jason Gideon would walk back into the BAU. He could hope that a cure for schizophrenia could be found or at least a long term treatment option that worked. There was no hope in this case. There was no maladaptive daydream he could imagine to get himself through another week, another day, another hour. There were no possible scenarios that he could picture in order to leech a little bit of serotonin from his wretched life. This loss was like no other he’d experienced yet. In a matter of words, they were temporary losses that turned permanent. His next loss was a permanent one that turned temporary. Emily Prentiss was dead.

Emily Prentiss was not dead. It was like whiplash, he didn’t even know if it counted as a true loss, but it mattered to him. She was alive and unwell in Paris. For seven months. But then she was back. She was back and he was mad, until he wasn’t. Part of the reason his anger dissipated so quickly was because he knew it was only a matter of time before he lost someone again. He needed to cherish what he had while he had it. So he made the most of the next year he got with Emily. The year solving cases and slowly seeing her get less and less content with the job, with the team, with her life. This was the first loss he saw coming. He knew it was over before it ended. That’s why he held her so close at JJ’s wedding, danced with her a little extra, spent a little more time talking to her at the bar than he had with anyone else. It didn’t make the loss hurt any less. It didn’t make the emptiness in his stomach go away when he saw her empty desk. Though it wasn’t empty for long.

His next loss...That one hurt the worst. Maeve Donavon was dead. Really, truly dead and she wasn’t coming back. For a while he thought he thought he might actually be able to help her, to shield her from her stalker. That would be the only adequate payback for the love and kindness she shared with him. Through weekly phone calls, the pair fell in love. He’d never been in love before, not like that. Not the same way as how he loved Maeve. He loved her like….He loved her like Hotch loved Haley. Despite all the bad, despite all the possible problems, he was dedicated to her. She was the only one in his eyes, even though he hadn’t seen her. Not until it was too late anyways. He finally got to see her minutes before the actual loss happened. It all happened in an instant and a lifetime all in the same. The gun was leveled near her head, the only thing between it being Diane’s. Diane may have been hard-headed but her skull wasn’t thick enough to shield Maeve from the oncoming bullet. The bullet went in one side and out the other, ripping away Reid’s happiness for the last ten months. Not only was Maeve gone, but he lost himself in the grief. For nearly four months he was a shell of a human being, less than that. He was the shell of a shell of a human being. He didn’t remember most of his days, they just went on without him.

Eventually he was able to regain consciousness in the world and he slowly shifted to just being a shell of a person. Then, he was finally a person again. The next loss, he also saw coming. While it wasn’t easy to lose anyone, it was nowhere near as terrible as his last loss. When he lost SSA Alex Blake in his life, he was sad of course. She was just another person on the list of people to come and go from his life. For a long time he couldn’t decide if she was his protector or if he was hers. Truthfully, they were each other’s. She helped him get over Maeve and for a while, he helped her son live again. But eventually it became too much for her as well. He couldn’t fault her, he couldn’t fault any of them really, for leaving. The BAU was a lot to handle and burnout wasn’t something they were immune to. He’d considered leaving but...what else would he do? Where would he go? Maybe to Harvard to teach with Blake. Maybe just to visit. He missed her a lot of the time. She always seemed to understand him in a way that others didn’t. He liked that about her and he missed that presence on the team.

It wasn’t even a whole year until his next loss came around. It was barely six months after SSA Alex Blake had returned to being only Professor Blake when former SSA Jason Gideon and co-founder of the Behavioral Analysis Unit became Jason Gideon (1955-2015). Reid felt like he’d been hit by a truck. No longer could he imagine the day (the day that wouldn’t have come regardless) that Jason Gideon walked back into the BAU, his glasses low on his nose as he read through his files. The maladaptive daydreams became a thing of the past and picking out a suit for the funeral became a thing of the present. Crumpled tissues littered the pockets of nearly all his clothes. He knew the day would come when Gideon coming back, even just for a visit, would no longer be a possibility. That knowledge didn’t soothe him. Just like he had seven years ago, Reid tried to keep Gideon’s last game of chess alive as he grieved the utter and true loss of Jason Gideon.

The next loss was one he never expected. It hit him harder than he’d expected. It took every fiber of his being, every bit of energy he had, to not burst out crying when Derek Morgan slid the shiny card into his hand. The image of a baby boy stared up at him, along with the bold black text to announce his name. Hank Spencer Morgan. He appreciated the sentiment, he really did, but it didn’t quell the emptiness he could feel beginning to eat away at him. Derek Morgan was leaving the BAU to spend more time with his beautiful wife and adorable son. Spencer couldn’t have picked a better reason for someone to leave the BAU, but it still chipped away at him. It hurt even more to know that Morgan was there, still in the area, yet they rarely saw each other. He went from seeing Derek everyday to being lucky if he saw him more than twice a year. All of the losses had hurt, but Derek? That one hurt in a different way.

Antonia Slade had been the one to point out how many protectors he’d lost. He’d never realized just how many people had come and gone. He hadn’t realized that for the last 6 years in a row, he’d lost someone that he saw as a protector. Emily Prentiss, Emily Prentiss again, Maeve Donovan, Alex Blake, Jason Gideon, and Derek Morgan. What made each loss so hard, was how history repeated itself. If you ignore history, it repeats itself. But just because you address it, because you know about the pattern, it doesn’t mean that it stops. It just made it feel different.

That’s why losing Aaron Hotchner just weeks later felt different.

#spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fanfiction #character study

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rune-writes · 4 years ago

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Rekindled Hope

Fandom: Final Fantasy VII

@aerith-week » Day 7: Cherish the Memories

Word count: 2482

Rating: G

Summary: A brief look into the times Kunsel visited Aerith at her church after Zack went missing. Two people in grief. Two people seek company in each other.

Note: A little late entry for Day 7′s prompt, featuring Kunsel!^^ (because ever since I saw his mail to Zack where he spoke about Aerith’s broken wagon and her refusal to accept his help because she’s still waiting for Zack, I just need to see their interactions).

Part 3 of Follow the Yellow Flowers: Aerith Week 2021

Read on AO3.

~*~*~*~*~

He came again—the friend—sauntering over to the flowerbed, then lounging on one of the wooden benches. He sat with his arms resting over his thighs as he folded his fingers loosely together. “How are you?” he’d ask. “How’s the garden? How are the flowers? How about your mother?” How, how, how, as if it was genuine interest and not some kind of obligation he’d felt toward his missing friend. He always kept his helmet on, ever since that day he’d taken it off and introduced himself.

The man—boy?—was around her age. He had come knocking on the church’s door before pushing it open enough for him to slip through. Aerith had looked up then, fighting against the urge to jump and grin and say, Welcome home, Zack, because she’d gone through that scenario in more times than she could count, and not once had it been her SOLDIER with the sky-blue eyes. Reno had come one time with that swagger in his gait, grumbling at what a pain Tseng had been for putting him under babysitting duties; Aerith had frowned at him and said, “Well, go, if you don’t wanna babysit me.” Another time had been Rude, who had entered the church with a small basket in his hand. He had apparently visited her house, and her mother had told him to bring her something to eat. He’d said nothing much, just stood in the corner with that unperturbed coolness. And when Tseng came to visit a few days after that, Aerith had been prepared, rising to her feet just as the door slid open.

“What now?” she’d said, arms folded over her chest.

Tseng had crossed the large hall with a small smile playing across his features. “Have Reno and Rude bothered you so much that you won’t give me a simple ‘hello’?”

“Even if they hadn’t, why should I?”

Her voice had been testy, but Tseng had only scoffed, soft and amused. He’d remained silent, facing her with that impeccable smile.

Aerith’s lips had pulled into a taut line. It had been a struggle to maintain her anger, if only because she’d had no energy left to stay angry. Not after she’d spent months waiting for someone who never came. She’d dropped her gaze, the tension leaving her shoulders in a quiet sigh. Wordlessly, she’d turned around, then crouched before her flowerbed. The yellow lilies had gazed at her, offering what little comfort flowers could give. It had been a moment before Tseng moved to her side and helped her tend her flowers.

So when, some time later, the church’s heavy doors creaked open once more, a part of her had expected it would be one of the Turks, checking up on her as part of their daily routine. But it hadn’t been those men in black striding toward her. The person had worn none other than the SOLDIER garb she’d come to miss. A different color, she’d noted—a dark, muted purple. But it had been still a SOLDIER garb, with a SOLDIER helmet, and the person had paused mid-step on his tracks, gave a slight tilt of his head followed by a small nod, before resuming his walk and stopping in front of her.

“Are you Aerith?” he’d asked.

Aerith had blinked, surprised. How had this person known her name? Had the Turks sent a SOLDIER instead to watch over her? She’d given him a quiet nod, then seen a smile blossoming on his face.

“Good, I was afraid I got the wrong person.” His voice had been light, sweet. He’d reached up and lifted the helmet off his face. A sharp, strong jawline; sculpted cheekbones; and dark brown hair that fell over his forehead; but it was the eyes that caught her attention—bright blue like the sky, rimmed with a Mako glow.

Just like him.

With the smile still plastered across his face, he’d held out his hand and said, “My name’s Kunsel, Zack’s friend.”

Somehow, Aerith had always evaded hearing that name. A conscious decision, perhaps, or maybe a subconscious one—the way her mind shut off any mention of it. Her mother had never spoken it, and neither had the Turks whenever they visited her. The slum residents had barely known him. Even when the so-called fan club had approached her, her mind had been ready. But when this friend introduced himself, Aerith hadn’t had the chance to prepare herself.

Zack’s friend.

Unbidden, a lump had formed at the back of her throat. Aerith had fought back against the choke as tears sprang to her eyes.

***

The first month Zack hadn’t returned, Aerith had believed when people said he was busy, caught up in whatever assignment the Company had given him. But then three months rolled by, six months, and now it had been well over a year, and there was still no news of his return or whereabouts.

Kunsel rose from his seat and strode over to her, crouching before the flowerbed and reaching to stroke the yellow petals. With his helmet settled over his head, Aerith felt his glance more than she saw it, but he said nothing, then went to pull the weeds sprouting from the ground.

Why exactly was he here? She had figured SOLDIERs would have their plates full, with how many times a phonecall or mission had interrupted her date with Zack. But here Kunsel was, months after he’d introduced himself and seen her cry, months of helping her tend her flowerbed as though he had all the time in the world. He’d offered to fix her cart one time, broken after using it so many times to sell flowers around the slums, but she’d refused and said she’d wait for Zack. Because Zack would come. He had promised her he would.

Kunsel deftly pulled at the weeds, reaching deep into the roots so as not to let them grow again. He moved quietly, scouring her flowerbed for the parasitic plants that would kill her flowers. The pile on his side grew higher with each passing moment. When he was about to go to her side, Aerith spoke up.

“No, I’ll—I’ll take care of this side.”

The SOLDIER looked at her. Even through his visor, Aerith could still see those familiar Mako-rimmed eyes. Her heart clenched. She only spared him a glance before dropping her gaze back to her chore.

“Alright,” she heard him say. She watched him from the corner of her eye, at the efficient way he moved as he cleaned his side of the flowerbed. Silent, but still a reassuring presence.

When had it started—when she’d started looking forward to his visits more than she would admit? She’d told him one time he hadn’t needed to help with the flowers, but Kunsel had only given her a sideways glance and said, “You let Tseng help.” No, she hadn’t. She’d told Tseng the same, but true to his character, Tseng had never listened to her. Not once. But maybe that’s not true, now that Aerith thought about it. Tseng never brought her back to the lab, and he had lent his phone that time she had wanted to call Zack. The man had known her since she was little, and despite whatever true intention he and his men had behind their visits, Aerith was grateful for the Turks’ company—as grateful as she had grown to accept Kunsel’s too. Because having someone else beside her… it helped keep the sadness at bay.

With that thought in mind, her next words rolled out of her tongue instinctively: “I started writing letters.” She felt his glance, felt the quiet surprise, but Aerith only focused her attention on the rhythmic way her hands pulled at the weeds.

Her admission made it true—those nights she’d spent staring at her ceiling. Worry had gnawed at her heart, wondering what had happened to Zack, wondering where he was and what he was doing and if he was okay. Everyone said he might have moved on. Her mother had said to forget about him. And Aerith wanted to, if only she could.

She was never a stranger to loneliness. She had spent her days alone in Shinra’s lab, then spent more days alone in the slums. None of the kids had played with her. The only friends she’d had were the flowers. Yet when Zack crashed through her church’s roof and fell onto her flowerbed, everything had changed. The church that had once offered her solace became a source of joy. She’d started playing a game of when-would-Zack-visit-again, and sometimes, when Aerith opened the massive double doors, she would find him already waiting for her with a grin radiant like the sun.

Across the flowerbed, Kunsel still stared at her. Aerith gave a little shrug as she said, “For a few months now, I think? Mom told me to. She hated seeing me so… down for so long, so this one night, she came up to me and asked me what I wanted to do. That if I can’t reach him by phone, I could try writing to him. Who knows? Maybe he’d read it, no matter how busy he gets…”

Busy… As though being “busy” was the one thing that had kept Zack away. As though nothing bad could have prevented him from coming home. Every time Aerith voiced her concerns to Tseng, he had always been quick to say that Zack was fine. That the company was keeping him busy for longer than anyone had expected. But Tseng had always been a trained liar, and there had been no doubt he was lying to her.

Aerith sneaked a glance at Kunsel, gauging his reaction. Would he lie to her too? But Kunsel had his eyes fixed on the weeds at his clutch, his jaws set as his gaze took on a hard glint.

“Busy, huh…” His grip tightened, his knuckles going white. “If only that’s all there is.” He pulled the weeds with all his might. Dirt burst out in a sprinkle of dark brownish matter, showering his lap, his hands, his boots. Kunsel stared at the now-lifeless plant on his palm. “That’s what we wish, isn’t it? That he’s just too busy to check his phone or that he’s stuck somewhere with a low signal. But… is that all there is?”

“What do you mean?”

“The news, that Zack might’ve been—” His breath catching on the word, Kunsel pursed his lips. But Aerith knew what he meant. Killed in action. She’d heard. When those fan club people had approached her—they might not have realized, but she’d heard snippets of their conversation. Her fingers twitched, a muscle fluttering along her jawline. Aerith didn’t believe it.

Across from her, Kunsel cleared his throat. “I never believed it. Not one bit of it. I know he’s out there somewhere, and the Company is hell bent on keeping it a secret.”

Aerith blinked in surprise. “How are you so sure?”

“Because I tried looking for him, and they cut my search short.”

The silence that followed was deafening. Aerith stared at Kunsel, trying to make sense of his words. Was Kunsel insinuating that Shinra was the reason Zack went missing?

Kunsel’s face was hard as he returned to his chore, his movement swift and efficient. Before long, he’d cleaned the entire flowerbed, even the section Aerith had meant to clean herself. He gathered all the weeds, then rose, bringing them to the trash can outside the church. When he returned, the hard glint was gone. In its place was a brilliant beam.

“Have faith, Aerith. He’ll come back. One way or another, he’ll come back for sure. He promised, didn’t he?”

Aerith stared at him, at that conviction that was so strong, so bright, so contagious. It made her own hope flickered back to life. She had not yet felt his soul pass her by—the way Elmyra’s husband’s had after he died in Wutai. Zack was still out there. She was sure of it.

“Is that why you’re here?” she asked then. “To give me hope?”

Her question had taken Kunsel off guard. It showed in the widening of his eyes and the slight slackening of his jaws. Her mouth quirked into a little smirk, Aerith snorted, turning away to hide her laughter behind her hand.

“Hey,” he said, and she heard the amused chuckle in his voice. Kunsel snorted, then scoffed. “For your information, I’m Zack’s best friend. You ask every SOLDIER, grunt, or even the Turks who Zack’s friend is and they’re gonna say me. I know everything about your boyfriend, including how head-over-heels in love he is with you. So, if you ask me why I’m here…”

His voice trailed off. The way Kunsel had nonchalantly bragged about being Zack’s friend had made her want to laugh, but seeing his face now, seeing his melancholic smile… Aerith pursed her lips.

Kunsel lifted his face and stared at the hole in the roof. In a voice so low that Aerith had almost missed it, he said, “I promised I’d look after you, so that’s what I’m gonna do.”

A shift in the clouds outside gave way to sunlight slanting in through the hole. It shone on Kunsel’s helmet, making the metal sparkle. In another timeline, had she met Kunsel when Zack was still here, would they have become fast friends without this sorrow hanging over them? Laughing and joking around as the boys visited her at the church.

Kunsel shielded his eyes at the blinding sun. “It’s sunny outside. Wanna have a walk?” Those sky-blue eyes were bright and clear, Aerith found the sight of them didn’t hurt her anymore. Still a twinge of pain, but nothing she couldn’t handle.

Aerith rose to her feet. She brushed her hands against her dress, then stretched her arms over her head. Holding her hands behind her back, she followed Kunsel’s gaze and, for the first time in a long time, looked at the sliver of blue between two metal plates. She held her gaze, even as her heart constricted at the sight of it.

When you come back from your assignment, let’s go sell flowers under the sky together. I won’t be afraid if you’re with me.

A lump formed at the back of her throat, Aerith pressed her lips in a thin line. The flowers on her feet swayed in a nonexistent wind, as if trying to comfort her. As if trying to say, he’ll come back.

Aerith threw Kunsel a sideways glance. The SOLDIER was looking at her with an inviting tilt of his head. “Sure,” she said, and felt her lips parting into a small, genuine smile, one that came from her heart. “Let’s go. And you can take your helmet off if you want. Isn’t it stuffy?” She met his look of surprise with a grin, before heading off to exit the church.

~ END ~

#aerithweek #aerithweek2021 #aerith gainsborough #kunsel #zack fair #zerith #final fantasy #final fantasy vii #ffvii #ff7 #ff7r #fanfiction #ff fanfic #ff7 fanfic

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littleholmes · 3 years ago

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I posted 5,070 times in 2021

427 posts created (8%)

4643 posts reblogged (92%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 10.9 posts.

I added 2,000 tags in 2021

#bnha - 498 posts

#jjk - 334 posts

#shameless - 168 posts

#dcst - 166 posts

#oh this? this is beautiful - 162 posts

#jujutsu kaisen - 158 posts

#boku no hero academia - 148 posts

#dabi - 135 posts

#dr. stone - 118 posts

#mha - 113 posts

The rest is below the cut because my top 5 posts includes some of my JJK analysis

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#there’s a disconnect aka y’all are hypocrites and this is bullshit and you thought i wouldn’t call ya on it but watch me bc i’m not the one

My Top Posts in 2021

okay I know this has been talked about but given recent chapters I’m bringing it back up again because I can’t stop thinking about Yuji and the idea of him fending for himself while his grandpa was in the hospital. Like how long was Yuji basically on his own? I brought it up in my post about when we see Yuji hugging himself and crying in the middle of Shibuya, because again that’s a major indicator of someone who’s had to self-soothe, but in light of the casino situation my thoughts are screaming about this, especially when we go back to the early days.

Like remember this conversation between Yuji and Nanamin?

It hits different when you think about Yuji basically taking care of himself for the last who knows how long. He’s insulted at the prospect of being seen as a kid because he’s likely had to be responsible like an adult and worry about money and bills, or at the very least feeding himself and keeping up the apartment on top of school.

Which then brings me to the fact that Yuji cooks. Like sure it could be because he’s an only child and had to shoulder some responsibility around the house, not to project my own only-child experience, but it’s deeper than Yuji just having to share the load with his grandpa while he was at home and then taking on everything when he was in the hospital. Yuji makes phone calls and mindfully arranges his schedule with the intent to see grandpa, he handles the responsibility of his grandfather dying in front of him and the final arrangements with the emotional maturity of someone who had already accepted his death and had to handle paperwork and adult responsibilities before (I still think about Yuji not having time to grieve his grandpa and having moments when he just breaks down because grief comes in waves but that’s another post). Yuji worried about money or at least had to come up with ways to get money when he needed it because extended family wasn’t around to help. And Yuji cooks.

Just like Megumi, another kid who had to be an adult way too fast, he cooks. Even if he can only cook meatballs, Yuji still has a staple food that he knows how to make well, probably from making it over and over, that is hearty and can keep him going and also freezes well for the times when he can’t afford meat or enough groceries this week. Gojo doesn’t even seem surprised by the idea of Yuji handling the cremation and burial alone and later even compliments him on his cooking because yeah, it’s that good, but he had experience with Megumi and Tsumiki, kids who had to be self-sufficient from a young age and now he has to add Yuji to that list of kids he wants to make sure have a chance to be carefree, even for a little while.

(And it makes it even more upsetting when Yuji finds himself getting attached to people like his classmates and Gojo and Nanami, and letting his walls down and finally having space to be a kid, only for him to have to be an adult because of the situations he’s thrown into—which makes the conversation with Nanami even more important, but I digress)

I’m rambling but Yuji’s self-sufficiency while his grandpa was in the hospital, the conversation with Nanami, and whole cash at the casino situation just remind me that there’s so much we don’t know about Yuji before he ate Sukuna’s finger and how similar he and Megumi are as kids who had to grow up too fast.

235 notes • Posted 2021-11-09 00:07:28 GMT

when I say I want someone to aggressively care about me and my well-being this

is what

I mean

261 notes • Posted 2021-09-26 15:33:52 GMT

I’m sure this has been discussed but I can’t stop thinking about Yuji curling up in a ball in the middle of the Shibuya fight and crying and almost fully giving up. It’s just so heartbreaking and idk realistic? to have this character who is gentle and cares deeply about everyone and has been through so much in a short amount of time with the weight of everything on his shoulders to just break down as the gravity and trauma and stress of every crisis that occurs that night hits him. He’s hugging himself, sobbing, apologizing, pleading, beating himself up because he couldn’t save more people, and it’s just oof.

Often in shonen we have teens put in these life or death, literally fight to live and fight to save everyone, situations and we get moments when the characters react but something about Yuji having this moment mid-battle hits different. I mean look at this kid

(Also, how long was Yuji basically on his own while his grandpa was in the hospital because the way he’s clutching himself is similar to that of someone who has had to rely on themselves for comfort, particularly at a young age, but I digress.)

Yuji has fought so hard and then everything that happens before this happens and it’s beyond more than he can take. He couldn’t help his friends or senseis or senpais, he’s struggling to beat Mahito, and he just can’t anymore. All he can do is cry and hold himself and try to self-soothe because he can’t even forgive himself let alone fight more right now. It’s painful and cathartic because we’ve been running along with these characters in this Shibuya shitshow and to have a character break down about the events in the thick of it is like a breath, a moment of yeah, all of this really is a lot and it’s not okay.

This arc is intense, but these panels were like a punch. All I could say Oh, Yuji and wish I could give him a hug.

324 notes • Posted 2021-10-21 01:18:52 GMT

the imagery of the all might statue with the “I AM NOT HERE” sign is a detriot smash in the chest because this society hinged everything on all might. like they really just put all that weight on yagi and took him for granted. even the heroes themselves just assumed he’d always be around and peace would always be there. but it’s all crumbling in the wake of what stain started and dabi furthered as so-called heroes resign and civilians take matters into their own hands. idk all of this shows just how precarious things have been and how hard it’s going to be for these kids going forward

400 notes • Posted 2021-02-07 16:30:09 GMT

link click episode: *major moment/plot twist happening*

background music: *beeps from the ED*

me: wait, what! NO!

535 notes • Posted 2021-06-25 19:28:47 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

#my 2021 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #personal

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brightbeautifulthings · 4 years ago

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The Cheerleaders by Kara Thomas

"Ginny's simple explanation has parted the jumble of thoughts clouding my brain. I don't know why I didn't think of the possibility sooner--that the deaths aren't a bunch of dots waiting to be connected, but a single series of events, set into motion by something that fall. But what happened? How am I supposed to find the exact spot where a butterfly flapped its wings five years ago?"

Year Read: 2021

Rating: 3/5

About: Five years ago, the town of Sunnybrook disbanded its cheerleading squad after five cheerleaders died in three separate accidents in the span of two months. First a devastating car accident, then a brutal murder, and finally a tragic suicide. Now in high school, Monica is old enough to start questioning her older sister's death. She's positive Jennifer wouldn't have killed herself, and when she discovers threatening letters and her sister's old cell phone in her stepdad's desk drawer, she's sure there's more to the story. But in investigating her sister's last weeks alive, Monica realizes that she didn't know Jennifer as well as she thought, and if there is a killer, they may be closer than she thinks. Trigger warnings: death (on-page), parent/child/sibling death, statutory rape, abortion, some gore, school shooting (mention), car accidents, abusive households, drug use, alcoholism, severe illness (mention), guns, threats, bullying, grief.

Thoughts: I liked this book, but it's not going to work for everyone because the things it does well aren't necessarily the things I look for in YA thrillers. I'm not even sure I'd call it a thriller, exactly, since most of the crimes are five years old. Instead, Thomas carefully layers the various aspects of her mystery. Instead of giving us more suspects, each clue brings a slightly clearer picture of what happened to these girls. It's not a very exciting or plot-twisty novel, but it's one of the more realistic murder mysteries I've read (with the exception of teenagers conducting an investigation and stealing evidence from police, but these always require a bit of handwaving). It struck me as more realistic in the ways that the characters react to things. Most people have something to hide, and they act poorly when they're responding to grief or fear. It's as much a character study as it is a mystery, and I think delving deeper into these characters' minds is the real payoff of the novel.

It's easy to slip into Monica's headspace, and at times she feels almost like an invisible narrator. I never quite believed she was as awful as she seems to think she is, which makes it all the easier to sympathize with her; she's a kid who's had some terrible things happen to her (some of them by adults who should know better), and the terrible things didn't stop with her sister's death. I enjoyed her developing relationship with Ginny, who's quiet, mysterious, and resilient under pressure. We don't quite know her motivations for helping Monica, but the friendship feels genuine.

The rest of the relationships are a complicated web between past and present as Monica attempts to chase down some of the last people to speak to the cheerleaders before they died. Shady characters abound, but with one exception, most of them are far less evil than they are simply flawed human beings. While not all that scary, the ending provides enough thematic closure for characters I'd come to like. I guessed the killer early on (mainly because why else would they be in the story?) but not the twist in the epilogue, which feels more like a period at the end of a sentence than pure shock value. It's unexpected, but it makes sense and brings a little more insight into the rest of the novel, as a twist should. Nicely done on character and overall storytelling, but a bit forgettable on plot.

#book review #the cheerleaders #kara thomas #ya thriller #3/5 #rating: 3/5 #2021

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flow-green · 3 years ago

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19-08-2021

“I think I’ve never had more chaotic year than this one,” I confessed one evening when we drove in a car somewhere. My SO gave me a warm look and I checked to the back seat where my Charlie-baby was sleeping. If somone would have told me year and a half ago that 2021 will be a true turnaround in my life, when I will throw away all the life chains and take full control, I would have rolled mye eyes and gotten back to my endless vicious circle of career. I think ever since 17-years old I have followed the norms the society has set up: graduate high school, sprint through university, meanwhile make sure you work so you won’t get drowned in depts, get a job for your field of interest, in the meantime take some loan for some random house and if you have a moment, please, make some babies. Ever since I was a child, I knew right away: that’s not me. I don’t know what it is that makes me want to break these frames. But, oh well, there is no point to raise my voice for my own good as all the other people around me are nicely stable in the system. Some of my exes are on the same line: if you are not a parent by age 31 and do not own a gorgeous house in the suburbs while paying a sickly huge loan, meanwhile ignoring your family, friends and hobbies to make ends meet just so you could work yourself to deah by age 40, then you are a loser.

Few weeks ago in Saaremaa, while tipping my toes and feet into the warm and comforting waters of Estonian sea, I realized where I have drifted with my life. Only now I have started to realized that, f**k me sideways, I am actually a living human being. A LIVING person. I LIVE.

About 2 months ago, near summer solstice, I finally felt the finalizing ticking in my brain that pushed me gently to the edge of unknown. “Will you?” the life asked and motioned me to jump. “Or will you stay here forever, wondering what’s down there?” And so, with shivering hands, I clicked ‘send’ button on the mail that delivered my resignation letter to my boss. Done. Over half a year full of mental terror and a slow suicide will come to an end. At this point I had insane regrets. How am I supposed to throw away an opportunity and 6-year long career just because I do not want to live anymore? Now you’re probably thinking I am being a drama queen and overexaggerating. Oh, dear god, no. There were days, where everything started to tumble down in one go: my love life, my family relations, friends and work relations. On these days I switched myself and my phone off, listened to some serious melancholic tunes, sat alone for hours or drove around with a car and now, admitting for the first time: I hoped that something will happen and I do not need to live here anymore. I admitted this once also in my therapy, that I have frozen up while driving, not really giving a damn about my leg on gas pedal and about the speed.

I am once again a fat, useless, lazy, clumsy, slow and unorganized. Blessed with sore black eyes, a girl with unstable nervs and flaked nails. And all this just to give myself to a work which does not appreciate any sacrifices I make.

And I did it. This is MY life. My path and my decision, I ain’t going anywhere and even if I do, I’ll go with a smile on my face and as a queen for a day.

Few days ago I realized with full heart that this was one of the most important decisions in my life. I went for a run, as I have started to pick it up again. I went and set a goal to run approx 20 minutes. I had time. No rush. Only responsibility waiting for me was one project to improve a home page of our fresh company, but there was no strict deadline nor a passive aggressive boss-lady stalking my every move and making sure I am around even off-hours. So, my 20 minute run became to a 1 hour run, which was successful, nicely progressive and easy. I enjoyed every minute, because I was present. I had nowhere to hurry. I did not worry about the future or the past. I was just excisted. And I breathed.

I think I have cried more this year than in total for all past years. In my 9 to 5 appartment cubical lifestyle I always pushed away everything that demanded at least some movement out of comfort zone. For exaxmple I always closed in when my ex partner had an idea to do some changes. Well, true, his changes did not comply with my dreams. I did not want to get a huge loan to buy a house and sprint out 2 babies just because ,,Martin and Marge had their second kid in their gorgeous house and Martin is only 1 year older than me.” OK, is nice for them I guess? Every time these silly arguments started to come up, I switched myself off into my safety bubble, all alone. I let no emotions, chaotic situatons to influence myself and I just slowly flew on my laid down path, with eyepatches on. I always knew I want something different. I wanted to fight and be heard. Every time there was a conflict at work, with a friend or family member or with a partner, I eliminated it in the early stages and just ignored the rest.

And when these eyepatches were finally removed, everything else followed. I had no pink glasses or filters for emotons. Real life was there for me, but not always in a bad way. Real life offered everything, you only had to have guts to reach out and take it, with all its plusses and minuses. Take it, dominate, take responsibility, but don’t just float by. Get yourself togeter, notice, do, learn and experience. If not now then... when?

This half of a year has thrown so many obstacles and opportunities on my way and I have caught most of them. I guess one of the most difficult period was spending some insane time at a house in the middle of nowhere, without any water or normal comforts. This has made me appreciate small benefts of our everyday life.

I think I have mentioned this earlier as well, that February and March were probaby the hardest months this year. I was given a challenge to overcome and boy, it was tough. Namely, I got pregnant. As a woman who has never wanted to become a mom due to several and long reasons which I will not discuss today, I was in a cocmplete shock. I felt happy, scared, angry. Why now? Universe has its twisted sense of humour and it turned out that the pregnancy is not carriable for medical reasons and abortion is a must. I did not have a single day to stay home and mourn and endure grief. Oh, no, they needed me back to work ASAP. So I ignored the pain of loss and carried on with even more enormous work tempo to keep up. This period started a chain reaction which pulled me cruelsomely to the edge of the cliff. Work does not sleep, it waits impatiently. Even on these two horrible days I had to go through with the process, I did some work since I had become irreplacable.

All the emotions sealed up just blasted out as soon as some smaller bebble hit my bicycle. I cried hysterically, screamed. There were no days where my eyes weren’t bloodshot and with dark underlines.

In some sort of a sick twisted way I felt good, since I was needed, everything depends on me and I am sure it will get paid off nicely in the end when I have worked until my nose bleeds. In this tunnel vision I did not realize that skipped recovery and unresolved grief had made me this maniacal, delusional self-centered zombie, who lived for her workdays. All my free time I spent worrying about next work day. I did not notice anymore how my mom is doing, how are my friends and what is my partner up to. Every time we went off to one of our van trips I just existed somewhere in my thoughts about how much there is still to do. And it’s even more sadder, that I did not even notice myself anymore in the free world.

“Yea, but how would you go on?” was the main question I was asked when with a shaky voice I admitted that I need to quit my job right now and don’t want to take such responsibilities for a while now, only for myself. Everyone can do it. If there is a will, there is a way.

I am happy that I have at least won almost the entire battle with eating disorder, although I have to admint I am not proud over the inner criticizm about my body, which has grown 8 kg heavier since last summer. This means I still have days I hide under baggy clothes and just wait until these dark thoughts pass. There are days where I absolutely veto going to the beach because ‘it’s cold’. Actually I am reminding myself of that year where I had a killer six-pack, hip bones and tiny bikinies fit me so well, but now I look more like a curvy, slightly soft female not nearly showing signs of being physically active. Although, I am now in that golden zone where my weight is not going up nor down almost at all, no matter how much or little or what kind of foods I eat (plant based always of course). I guess it is positive, my body has found it’s perfect zone, but I--- don’t really like it. This mentality here is something now that I have to work with, with all my spare and peaceful time.

Since 25 July I am (f)unemloyed. And happy. I have made sure that I will be secured, will not be homeless and have food and I have a first step of a plan prepared. Priority for now is to help myself out of this destructive black hole that influences not only me but other close ones as well.

I don’t have black shadows under my eyes anymore. I sleep deep, without any random wake ups, I finally have time and motivation to cook, bake and test out recipes that have been collecting dust since forever. From day to day I get back to introduce myself to my long lost hobbies like kite surf, reading, writing, drawing and yoga.

I have finally startrd to realize that next to me there are people that I love unconditionally and to whom I have shown insanely rude attitude. Have you ever felt that re-falling in love again? I am currently feeling it with tripple multiplications, because I have once again fallen in so much love with my dog, my boyfriend and my hero on this topsy-turvy road, my family, friends and life itself.

I will not even take a glance anymore to that 100 promises I made earlier this year. Life is just so much different with completely new challenges. If anything, then I can mark this time period here as my new and fresh chapter for my life.

#ed recovery #ed #self care #quit my job #my life #adventure #van life #carefree #my story #blogging

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felicia-cat-hardy · 3 years ago

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My 'Pretty Little Liars' Obsession Led Me To My Best Friend

“Got a secret, can you keep it?” Well, I’ve got one: Though Pretty Little Liars ended in 2017, the seven-season mystery thriller schemed its way into being an integral part of my life for the long haul, so much so that the opening credits live in my head rent-free. To this day, each time I hear the sinister theme song — “Secret” by The Pierces — I’m brought right back to my childhood comfort show (ahem, obsession). The visuals begin with a swipe of mascara, the smear of red lipstick, and a clasp of a heel onto a porcelain doll, which makes me feel like I’m watching someone get pampered for prom. Until, of course, it cuts to four girls standing in front of a casket. It's a chilling moment, one that, until Season 6B, ended with Aria Montgomery (Lucy Hale) delivering her iconic “shh.” I got cast under the show’s spell the first time I saw it, and I wasn’t the only one: Pretty Little Liars led me to my best friend.

Ironically, plotlines about deceit and betrayal actually helped ignite a long-lasting friendship. In 2011, the only other person I knew to be watching PLL was my now-BFF, Taylor, who’s been by my side for over a decade. We were only about 11 and 12 when it premiered, so shout out to our parents for letting us watch a show that dealt with very adult themes like substance use disorder, assault, and grief. Unlike our classmates, who watched tween-appropriate hits like iCarly and Victorious, we became PLL stans.

As fans know, the show is loosely based on the Sara Shepard YA series of the same name, and the first book was my entry point into the PLL universe. I loved reading about blackmailers and murderers navigating high school, but I thought I was the only one who was into it. (Was this my ~I’m different~ complex showing, or were my peers just naturally more inclined to recap Dance Moms? I’ll never know.) So, Taylor first struck up a conversation with me at school because she spotted the first PLL book on my desk — you know, the one painted with porcelain wax dolls warning to “never trust a pretty girl with an ugly secret” in a Gothic script. She asked if I’d watched the TV adaptation yet and we immediately exchanged phone numbers to text about upcoming episodes. We then fell into the fandom. Fast.

I’d never talked to Taylor before this interaction — we had only been in a few classes together — but I always saw her as approachable and friendly. Universally, the beginning of middle school is a big and terrifying year when kids from different elementary schools unite. Eager to meet new people, I reached for friendship at any chance I could get. Taylor made it easy. Aside from being a genuinely kind person (a rare trait for a middle schooler!), she was fangirling over the same thing as me.

Fast forward over a decade later, and the show still feels timeless, especially in its accurate depictions of how dramatic high school can get. It’s no surprise there’s a PLL HBO Max reboot on the way along with the remakes of other buzzy shows from that era (hello, 2010s nostalgia). Ah. It was a simpler time. Back then, Freeform was still ABC Family and for me, Tuesdays meant one thing: PLL is on. What first started as a solo viewing experience soon became a designated hangout time, a time slot reserved for me and Taylor to gush over how much we loved Ashley Benson. (We still do!)

The series had a vibe similar to Gossip Girl or Bridgerton in that a mysterious, unidentifiable pot-stirrer keeps fans guessing each episode, but it was arguably so much better since “A,” the anonymous villain, is out for, you know, murder. Ultimately, it was the type of whodunit that made me and Taylor (and millions of viewers) go down a couple of Reddit rabbit holes — remember the “Aria is A” suspicion? — and this is where my and Taylor’s experience with fan theories began.

Oh, and let’s not forget the location. PLL takes place in the fictional suburb of Rosewood, Pennsylvania, and for two girls from Bucks Country — aka the Philadelphia ‘burbs — we ate it up. The beloved “Welcome to the Dollhouse” episode was exceptionally creepy not only because the Liars get locked into a life-size replica of their bedrooms, but also because our real neighborhood looks extremely similar to their hometown. It operates like Rosewood, too, in that small-town gossip travels at lightning speed.

The Pennsylvania-based plotline also made it easier for us to identify with the characters, who felt like extensions of ourselves. In many ways, we got to know each other through their personalities. Taylor is studious and high-achieving, obviously a Spencer. And I owned feather earrings because I saw Lucy Hale sport them in Season 1, so obviously an Aria. Asking “Are you more of a Hanna or an Emily?” held as much weight in 2012 as asking someone their rising sign in 2021. While it might not say much, it also tells you everything you need to know about a person.

PLL got its start right before live-tweeting shows became popularized, so when we weren’t together, I used to text Taylor on my slide-out keyboard phone (only Zillennials will remember) to compare notes without stumbling upon many spoilers. They read something like this: “Caleb and Hanna are soul mates, TBH.” Like every other fan, we theorized about why A had to be Ian… and Melissa… and Jenna… and Mona… and, you get the point. When our elaborate speculations ran cold, we’d pause DVR’d episodes to gather more clues, like glimpses of Red Coat’s face in her second season introduction, or inspections of those eerie-gloved hands assembling dolls and sharpening knives at the end of each episode.

This game of Clue made room for conversations about all the things. We were in high school during the show’s peak, so it felt like the Liars had laid the groundwork for how to operate our school’s halls. Rosewood High was not traditional — uh, multiple students came back from the dead (*cough* Mona and Alison) — but it did prepare us for the stressors of college applications and first romantic relationships. In fact, Benson’s Hanna Marin would be proud of my matchmaking skills because back then, I introduced Taylor to the boyfriend she’s still with today.

As we both grew up with the show, our friendship got even deeper. The Liars weren’t the only ones to share secrets, and I found it incredibly easy to confide in Taylor. She’s trustworthy, level-headed, compassionate, and an excellent listener. She’s someone I know will always pick up on the second ring and is the type of friend to be there with advice, reassurance, and a quick-witted one-liner. She once joked about never needing a diary because we’ve transcribed the past 10 years of our lives via text.

Our bond has remained strong, especially because the most outrageous PLL-esque plotlines of our lives are ones we’ve experienced together. I love Taylor because I don’t have to provide background for my stories. I’m even so familiar with the cast of characters in her life that when someone re-enters after a long period, I like to say they Alison DiLaurentis’ed her.

And on the off-chance she’s not there to witness something meaningful happen to me IRL, she’s always ready to decipher what went down over texts or dinner and drinks — just like we did when we were teens trying to figure out who A was (minus the wine, of course).

The way she can reconstruct my way of thinking and offer up a perspective I hadn’t seen before is almost paranormal. Whether these are Taylor’s naturally given talents or traits learned from peeling back all the layers of the series, I’m not sure. But she’s always there to decode situations with me — whether they relate to a TV show or during moments when I feel lost.

I couldn’t be more thankful that Taylor entered my life and that PLL played a role in our friendship. I feel so incredibly lucky to know someone like her. Plus, now I have someone who is obligated to watch the reboot with me. Ali was right: Friends do share secrets. And she’s ~quite literally~ the reason Taylor’s got all of mine. Spencer and Aria, you’ve got some competition.

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welllpthisishappening · 4 years ago

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Welllp These Are Books: the June 2021 Edition

I have read a lot of books this month. That should be stated upfront. Just an absolute metric ton of books. Some real good, some not-so good, some inadvertently hysterical. Also, I made that BINGO board. Because, like, you ever have a total crisis of writing-confidence and ignore that potential freakout and the tendency of your coworkers to miss deadlines by reading every free Amazon sports romance you can find? And several full YA series? In one month? No? My experiences are not universal, I understand. Anyway, there’s thoughts and opinions and spoilers under the cut. Everyone read the Once Upon a Con series, I’m begging you.

READ THIS SERIES! PLEASE! EVERY BOOK WAS SO CUTE! EVERYONE IN EVERY BOOK WAS SO CUTE! THE FANDOM STUFF DID NOT GIVE ME SECOND-HAND EMBARRASSMENT!

Geekerella by Ashley Poston Part romance, part love letter to nerd culture, and all totally adorbs, Geekerella is a fairy tale for anyone who believes in the magic of fandom. Geek girl Elle Wittimer lives and breathes Starfield, the classic sci-fi series she grew up watching with her late father. So when she sees a cosplay contest for a new Starfield movie, she has to enter. The prize? An invitation to the ExcelsiCon Cosplay Ball, and a meet-and-greet with the actor slated to play Federation Prince Carmindor in the reboot. With savings from her gig at the Magic Pumpkin food truck (and her dad’s old costume), Elle’s determined to win…unless her stepsisters get there first. Teen actor Darien Freeman used to live for cons—before he was famous. Now they’re nothing but autographs and awkward meet-and-greets. Playing Carmindor is all he’s ever wanted, but the Starfield fandom has written him off as just another dumb heartthrob. As ExcelsiCon draws near, Darien feels more and more like a fake—until he meets a girl who shows him otherwise.

The Princess and the Fangirl by Ashley Poston Imogen Lovelace is an ordinary fangirl on an impossible mission: to save her favorite Starfield character, Princess Amara, from being killed off. On the other hand, the actress who plays Amara wouldn’t mind being axed. Jessica Stone doesn’t even like being part of the Starfield franchise—and she’s desperate to leave the intense scrutiny of fandom behind. Though Imogen and Jess have nothing in common, they do look strangely similar to one another—and a case of mistaken identity at ExcelsiCon sets off a chain of events that will change both of their lives. When the script for the Starfield sequel leaks, with all signs pointing to Jess, she and Imogen must trade places to find the person responsible. The deal: Imogen will play Jess at her signings and panels, and Jess will help Imogen’s best friend run their booth. But as these “princesses” race to find the script leaker—in each other’s shoes—they’re up against more than they bargained for. From the darker side of fandom to unexpected crushes, Imogen and Jess must find a way to rescue themselves from their own expectations...and redefine what it means to live happily ever after.

Bookish and the Beast by Ashley Poston In this third book of the Once Upon a Con series, Rosie Thorne is feeling stuck—on her college application essays, in her small town, and on that mysterious General Sond cosplayer she met at ExcelsiCon. Most of all, she’s stuck in her grief over her mother’s death. Her only solace was her late mother’s library of rare Starfield novels, but even that disappeared when they sold it to pay off hospital bills. On the other hand, Vance Reigns has been Hollywood royalty for as long as he can remember—with all the privilege and scrutiny that entails. When a tabloid scandal catches up to him, he’s forced to hide out somewhere the paparazzi would never expect to find him: Small Town USA. At least there’s a library in the house. Too bad he doesn’t read. When Vance’s and Rosie’s paths collide, sparks do not fly. But as they begrudgingly get to know each other, their careful masks come off—and they may just find that there’s more risk in shutting each other out than in opening their hearts.

— I cannot possibly overstate what an absolute delight this series was. Cute and sweet and adorable. Like rot your teeth sweet with romances that my high-school self would have swooned over. (I would have been so in love with Darien Freeman as a 16 year old, it’s not even funny. Also, I would have been obsessed with Starfield.) Let’s be honest, my current self swooned quite a lot. Reading these books genuinely felt like a love letter to fandom. To the good and bad and trashy parts of it, and it made my heart swell thinking about these fictional kids and the community they found and how much they learned and then they FELL IN LOVE and, like, not to sound like an after-school special, but: THE REP IN THESE BOOKS?!?? HOLY S H I T. So good. So goddamn good. And not, like, shoved to the side. Like, Jess falls in love with a girl. And it gets its swoon-worthy moment as much as anyone else. Plus, bi-librarian dad who wears suspenders??? Sign. Me. Up. Twisting the fairy tales into the stories also worked really well in my opinion. Honestly my only gripe was that Darien found a cell phone number in the white pages, but, like, everything else was a joy. Please read these books. I promise they will make you smile.

IN WHICH I CAN NEVER TURN DOWN A BEAUTY AND THE BEAST ALTERNATE UNIVERSE

Cruel Beauty by Rosamund Hodge Betrothed to the evil ruler of her kingdom, Nyx has always known that her fate was to marry him, kill him, and free her people from his tyranny. But on her seventeenth birthday when she moves into his castle high on the kingdom's mountaintop, nothing is what she expected—particularly her charming and beguiling new husband. Nyx knows she must save her homeland at all costs, yet she can't resist the pull of her sworn enemy—who's gotten in her way by stealing her heart.

— Yo. YO. Everyone in this book was horrible! And it was wonderful! I figured out the twist approximately point two seconds after the potential for a twist was possibly introduced and it did not diminish my enjoyment of this book for one second. I am such a sucker for any Beauty and the Beast AU, but this was way different than anything I’d read before and Nyx was a blood-thirsty terror and I loved her. The magic and the world building was fascinating in that I really did not expect Greek gods and goddess, but it was also a welcome turn in a weird, huh, that’s interesting sort of way. And the banter was a-plus, top tier. Even when they were snarking at each other. Especially when they were snarking at each other. (Still a pretty quick turn from enemies to lovers, but I’m willing to overlook that based almost solely on the snark.) Plus, the castle was fascinating. And there were more twists aside from the main twist, none of which I figured out. All of which I gasped over. The end was like—chef’s kiss, fantastic. I would like a novel-length sequel to tell me how everything worked out.

...BUT THE LITTLE RED RIDING HOOD ONE WASN’T AS GOOD

Crimson Bound by Rosamund Hodge When Rachelle was fifteen she was good—apprenticed to her aunt and in training to protect her village from dark magic. But she was also reckless—straying from the forest path in search of a way to free her world from the threat of eternal darkness. After an illicit meeting goes dreadfully wrong, Rachelle is forced to make a terrible choice that binds her to the very evil she had hoped to defeat.Three years later, Rachelle has given her life to serving the realm, fighting deadly creatures in a vain effort to atone. When the king orders her to guard his son Armand—the man she hates most—Rachelle forces Armand to help her hunt for the legendary sword that might save their world. Together, they navigate the opulent world of the courtly elite, where beauty and power reign and no one can be trusted. And as the two become unexpected allies, they discover far-reaching conspiracies, hidden magic . . . and a love that may be their undoing. Within a palace built on unbelievable wealth and dangerous secrets, can Rachelle discover the truth and stop the fall of endless night?

— As much as I loved Cruel Beauty, I was like ehhhh on this one. Which is part Little Red Riding Hood (although that seems like a stretch, honestly) and part The Girl With No Hands, which is a fairy tale I have literally never heard of before. Rachelle was just—sorta whiny? Which, y’know, she was cursed and had fucked up her entire life, so fair, but also...annoying. I kept reading mostly to try and understand what the FUCK was going on with the magic. I like to consider myself a relatively intelligent person who can understand most YA novels, but this one was tough to keep track of. Like, sure, the imagery of the Dark Forest was cool, but also what is a Gladspring? I’m still not sure I know. Also, this kind of dragged in some places. Lots of patrolling the palace (whining about life) and not enough magic-fighting or establishing any sort of relationship between Rachelle and Armand. Which just sort of happened? Amidst, approximately, twenty-four different twists that were admittedly cool, but also felt like they came out of nowhere. Everything that happened in Cruel Beauty made sense. Most of what happened here felt like it was shoehorned in for shock value.

YOU WANT MORAL AMBIGUITY? BOY HAVE I GOT MORAL AMBIGUITY FOR YOU. IN GODDAMN SPADES.

The Firebird Series by Claudia Gray Marguerite Caine's physicist parents are known for their groundbreaking achievements. Their most astonishing invention, called the Firebird, allows users to jump into multiple universes—and promises to revolutionize science forever. But then Marguerite's father is murdered, and the killer—her parent's handsome, enigmatic assistant Paul— escapes into another dimension before the law can touch him.Marguerite refuses to let the man who destroyed her family go free. So she races after Paul through different universes, always leaping into another version of herself. But she also meets alternate versions of the people she knows—including Paul, whose life entangles with hers in increasingly familiar ways. Before long she begins to question Paul's guilt—as well as her own heart. And soon she discovers the truth behind her father's death is far more sinister than she expected.

— Guys. GUYS. These books, oh my G O D. Little known fact about me, but I am trash for cross-dimensional soulmates. The concept of “we’ll find each other anywhere” is one of my favorites, so I was so psyched about these books. And for awhile that’s what I thought I was going to get out of them. But. BUT! What I actually got was something, not totally different, but not entirely great, either. The problem here was that when anyone used one of the Firebird devices to jump dimensions they TOOK OVER THE BODY THEY JUMPED INTO. So, like, that consciousness got shoved to the side while whatever prime!person just took over. Living that body’s life. In a different dimension. And that’s kinda fucked up, right??? Brings in all sorts of questions about consent and morality and let me tell you, guys, this YA series DID NOT ADDRESS A SINGLE ONE OF THEM. Which is also super fucked up!! So, like, Marguerite is just bouncing around dimensions taking over people’s bodies and lives and leaving this, frankly, trail of destruction in her wake. And as if that wasn’t enough!!! In the second book Paul’s soul gets, like, split and she’s got to round up the pieces through dimensions, meeting all sorts of Pauls who are occasionally kind of shit people and he eventually just, like, CANNOT COPE. Seriously, I could not stop reading these. Partially for the moral ambiguity. Partially because I could not figure out why Paul loved Marguerite. Also, capitalism was the ultimate villain. AS IT SHOULD BE, REALLY.

CREEPY FAE WERE KIND OF CREEPY AND THAT’S NOT BAD, BUT LIKE MAYBE THIS WASN’T A GOOD BOOK?

An Enchantment of Ravens by Margaret Rogerson Isobel is an artistic prodigy with a dangerous set of clients: the sinister fair folk, immortal creatures who cannot bake bread or put a pen to paper without crumbling to dust. They crave human Craft with a terrible thirst, and Isobel’s paintings are highly prized. But when she receives her first royal patron—Rook, the autumn prince—she makes a terrible mistake. She paints mortal sorrow in his eyes—a weakness that could cost him his life. Furious, Rook spirits her away to his kingdom to stand trial for her crime. But something is seriously wrong in his world, and they are attacked from every side. With Isobel and Rook depending on each other for survival, their alliance blossoms into trust, then love—and that love violates the fair folks’ ruthless laws. Now both of their lives are forfeit, unless Isobel can use her skill as an artist to fight the fairy courts. Because secretly, her Craft represents a threat the fair folk have never faced in all the millennia of their unchanging lives: for the first time, her portraits have the power to make them feel.

— I’ve seen this book mentioned a lot. As good. And it wasn’t not good, but Isobel was pretty goddamn annoying and kind of dumb and a little self-important and I was mostly here for the creepy fae. That was fun. More fae should have antlers and stuff. Everything in this story happened ridiculously fast. I couldn’t believe it was over when it was over.

THE PROSE WAS VERY PRETTY. I’M NOT SURE WHY THE DRAGON HAD TO BE SUCH A MONUMENTAL DICK.

Uprooted by Naomi Novik Agnieszka loves her valley home, her quiet village, the forests and the bright shining river. But the corrupted Wood stands on the border, full of malevolent power, and its shadow lies over her life. Her people rely on the cold, driven wizard known only as the Dragon to keep its powers at bay. But he demands a terrible price for his help: one young woman handed over to serve him for ten years, a fate almost as terrible as falling to the Wood. The next choosing is fast approaching, and Agnieszka is afraid. She knows—everyone knows—that the Dragon will take Kasia: beautiful, graceful, brave Kasia, all the things Agnieszka isn’t, and her dearest friend in the world. And there is no way to save her. But Agnieszka fears the wrong things. For when the Dragon comes, it is not Kasia he will choose.

— Let me just say first off, that this should have been two books. Everything happened so quickly, I swear I got whiplash. That being said, as a heroine, I liked Agnieszka a lot. She was understandably freaked by everything that happened, but once she kind of settled, she didn’t take The Dragon’s shit and that was good because The Dragon was kind of shitty. This is why it should have been two books. Because everything The Dragon did felt like it needed some kind of explanation. Or at least some sort of reasoning for why he was such a monumental bastard. Which is why I was a little confused that Agnieszka was in love with him? He was such a dick, honestly. The last third or so of this book was the best because Novik really does know how to write action and the magic itself was pretty fascinating. (I wish it went into more depth, but I think I’m spoiled by fic and that’s not actually how the publishing world works.) Kasia might have been the most interesting person in this story. Girl went through it and just became a total badass. I loved her.

MARAUDER FEELINGS! MARAUDER FEELINGS! SO! MANY! MARAUDER! FEELINGS!

The Raven King by Maggie Stiefvater All her life, Blue has been warned that she will cause her true love's death. She doesn't believe in true love and never thought this would be a problem, but as her life becomes caught up in the strange and sinister world of the Raven Boys, she's not so sure anymore.

— RICHARD GANSEY, MY BELOVED. What a dweeb. A self-sacrificing, sorta sad dweeb. When he wrapped his jacket around Blue, my heart exploded. I think I spent the last fifteen or so chapters with disconcertingly wide eyes and possibly my hand over my mouth. Still not entirely sure why a Welsh king was in Virginia, but I loved it. Was real glad he was there. As promised by that one book rec list I read months ago, the Marauders vibes of these books were off the charts. It was a weird story with lots of weird things and I hope Mr. Grey gets to be happy one day and that Ronan and Adam make out some more eventually. I think they’ll both feel a lot better if they do. Like, about the world as a whole. Has anyone read the Ronan spinoff series? Should I read the Ronan spinoff series?

OK, THIS WASN’T THAT BAD, ACTUALLY

To Love Jason Thorn by Ella Maise Jason Thorn... My brother's childhood friend. Oh, how stupidly in love with that boy I was. He was the first boy that made me blush, my first official crush. Sounds beautiful so far, right? That excitement that bubbles up inside you, those famous butterflies you feel for the very first time--he was the reason for them all. But, you only get to live in that fairytale world until they crush your hopes and dreams and then stomp on your heart for good measure. And boy did he crush my little heart into pieces. After the stomping part he became the boy I did my best to stay away from--and let me tell you, it was pretty hard to do when he slept in the room right across from mine. When tragedy struck his family and they moved away, I was ready to forget he ever existed. Now he is a movie star, the one who makes women of all ages go into a screaming frenzy, the one who makes everyone swoon with that dimpled smile of his. Do you think that's dreamy? I certainly don't think so. How about me coming face to face with him? Nope still not dreamy. Not when I can't even manage to look him in the eye. Me? I'm Olive, a new writer. Actually, I'm THE writer of the book that inspired the movie he is about to star in on the big screen. As of late, I am also referred to as the oh-so-very-lucky girl who is about to become the wife of Jason Thorn. Maybe you're thinking yet again that this is all so dreamy? Nope, nothing dreamy going on here. Not even close.

— Ignoring the fact that this was almost blatant self-insert, this was a mostly good, occasionally trashy book with brother’s best friend and the one who got away tropes. Which, as we know, are my life’s blood. (Plus, surprise, fake marriage that isn’t really fake?!? Ok. OK!) My only eeek moment was when Olive got super drunk and wanted Jason to like—consummate the marriage and he was like, No Olive, you’re drunk. And then they ended up doing everything except having full-on sex, which felt a little creep and a lot sketch and then it was never mentioned again. Also, Olive needs to find some better friends, God.

EMERSON COD VOICE: HE’S STAAAAAALKING YOU

Marriage For One by Ella Maise Jack and I, we did everything backward. The day he lured me into his office-which was also the first day we met-he proposed. You'd think a guy who looked like him-a bit cold maybe, but still striking and very unattainable-would only ask the love of his life to marry him, right? You'd think he must be madly in love. Nope. It was me he asked. A complete stranger who had never even heard of him. A stranger who had been dumped by her fiancé only weeks before. You'd think I'd laugh in his face, call him insane-and a few other names-then walk away as quickly as possible. Well…I did all those things except the walking away part. It took him only minutes to talk me into a business deal…erm, I mean marriage, and only days for us to officially tie the knot. Happiest day of my life. Magical. Pop the champagne… Not. It was the worst day. Jack Hawthorne was nothing like what I'd imagined for myself. I blamed him for my lapse in judgment. I blamed his eyes, the ocean blue eyes that looked straight into mine unapologetically, and that frown on his face I had no idea I would become so fascinated with in time. It wasn't long after he said I was the biggest mistake of his life that things started to change. No, he still didn't talk much, but anyone can string a few words together. His actions spoke the loudest to me. And day after day my heart started to get a mind of its own.

— Ok, ok, ok, so I enjoyed the Jason Thorn book, right? Was, like, how bad could this other book be? And it wasn’t bad, but it was patently ridiculous. Let me explain what happened. Not entirely sorry for the spoilers. Jack the lawyer sees that Rose is only going to get the space for her coffee shop from her uncle’s will if she marries someone. She WAS engaged, but the guy split. For reasons no one can understand, especially Rose. She’s sad. She’s spent so much money on espresso machines! Enter Jack the lawyer who one random afternoon is like: HEY ROSE, YOU’RE MOSTLY A STRANGER, BUT I ALSO NEED TO GET MARRIED FOR REASONS I’LL ONLY SORTA EXPLAIN, LETS DO THAT. So they do???? And Jack the lawyer continues to be kinda weird and a little shady, but Rose has got the coffee shop and things are going well. Until! She’s got a leaky brain!!! That’s not a joke. Not a typo. Out of goddamn LEFT FIELD, Rose has got some horrible medical condition, so thank God she got married because Jack the lawyer’s got great health insurance. (this is ROMANTIC) and she’s got to have an operation and he stays with her and sleeps in the hospital chair and her coffee shop is somehow still going strong??? On Madison Avenue??? What sit-down coffee shop on Madison Avenue do you guys know that would succeed? None because it’s not downtown. I digress. Anyway, Rose makes a miraculous recovery, she and Jack the lawyer are now almost in love? At least having a shit ton of sex. They’re mostly happily married. Until, part two! The ex-fiance shows up and is like JACK THE LAWYER PAID ME TO BREAK UP WITH YOU. To which Rose is understandably flabbergasted. She confronts Jack the lawyer who fesses that he’s been seriously crushing on her since they met at her uncle’s Christmas party. She doesn’t remember this. He does. BECAUSE HE’S A STALKER. So, he knew about the will stipulation with marriage BACK THEN, which is why he used FIRM RESOURCES to investigate the ex-fiance and found out he was a con man, using Rose with plans to basically steal all her money. This infuriated Jack the lawyer because he thought Rose deserved better and then proceeded to basically con her himself, just in a different way. With marriage! He told her he needed to get married to show he was a family man to make partner. THAT WAS A LIE. He didn’t need it at all. He just—wanted to marry her??? To help her??? What a psycho. She leaves. He continues to lurk outside the coffee shop. They make up. No one mentions the stalking. The end.

I KEEP GIVING HELENA SECOND CHANCES AND SHE KEEPS...NOT DESERVING THEM

All In Series by Helena Hunting Sometimes I need an escape from the demands, the puck bunnies, and the notoriety that come with being an NHL team captain. I just want to be a normal guy for a few weeks. So when I leave Chicago for some peace and quiet, the last thing I expect is for a gorgeous woman to literally fall into my lap on a flight to Alaska. Even better, she has absolutely no idea who I am.Lainey is the perfect escape from my life. My plan for seclusion becomes a monthlong sex fest punctuated with domestic bliss. But it ends just as abruptly as it began. When I’m called away on a family emergency, I realize too late that I have no way to contact Lainey.A year later, a chance encounter throws Lainey and me together again. But I still have a lie hanging over my head, and Lainey’s keeping secrets of her own. With more than lust at stake, the truth may be our game changer.

— Last year I read a hockey romance by Helena Hunting that was very cute and traditionally published and she’s got a bunch more free Amazon books that, for some reason, I keep downloading and reading and they continue to be absolutely ridiculous. That first one was a not-so-secret accidental pregnancy (as previously discussed ONE TIME without a condom mention and bam pregnant) but the second one with Rook’s sister was actually pretty cute. I’m not sure why they all called him Rook. Almost all these series have at least one book with someone recovering from an injury and they inevitably fall in love with their physical therapist. So, that one was pretty ok. None of these, however, were quite as entertaining as (wait for it) QUEENIE AND KINGSTON. WHOSE FRIENDS AND TEAMMATES ALL CALL HIM KING. QUEENIE. AND. KING. Gag. I read it anyway. At least 99% of that decision was based solely on the fact that the story started just after King found out his sister was actually his mom. How am I supposed to stop reading THAT?!? I ask you. Highlights of Queenie and King’s romance included: him calling his mom/sister MOMSTER, Queenie being secretly married this whole time, WITHOUT KNOWING IT, his strawberry allergy that flared up because she’d had a strawberry milkshake and then GAVE HIM A BLOWJOB, her dad finding out they were dating because he was the GM of the team and saw that his starting goalie was having a MASSIVE allergic reaction, Queenie’s eventual ex-husband getting engaged to someone who previously tried to self-inseminate to trap Rook into a relationship (I am not making this up, I swear) and then when he found out that his fiancee’s kid wasn’t actually his, he got into a massive fight and earned a 20-game suspension. THAT’S A QUARTER OF AN NHL SEASON. Tom Wilson got fined five thousand dollars for practically killing Artemi Panarin on the ice! I did not read the last book in this series because it was MORE ACCIDENTAL PREGNANCY and because it was Queenie’s dad and King’s mom and that meant they’d share a sibling. Which is where I draw the line, guys.

THERE WERE SEVEN BOOKS IN THIS SERIES! EVERY SINGLE ONE HAD TO HAVE A SCENE WHERE THE DUDE UNDERSTOOD THAT PERIODS WERE A THING???? LIKE THAT WAS IMPRESSIVE SOMEHOW?!?!

Hot Jocks Series by Kendall Ryan I've never been so stupid in my entire life. My teammate's incredibly sweet and gorgeous younger sister should have been off-limits, but my hockey stick didn't get that memo. After our team won the championship, and plenty of alcohol, our flirting turned physical and I took her to bed. Shame sent her running the next morning from our catastrophic mistake. She thinks I don't remember that night—but every detail is burned into my brain so deeply, I’ll never forget. The feel of her in my arms, the soft whimpers of pleasure I coaxed from her perfect lips…And now I’ve spent three months trying to get her out of my head. Which has been futile, because I’m starting to understand she’s the only girl I’ll ever want. I have one shot to show her I can be exactly what she needs, but Elise won’t be easily convinced. That’s okay, because I’m good under pressure, and this time, I’m playing for keeps.

—I read all of these. All. Of. Them. They were exceptionally quick reads. Every single one had a copious amount of sex in it and a very weird, apparently required scene, where the dude had to be like I’M NOT SQUICKED OUT BY PERIODS AM I NOT THE ULTIMATE EXAMPLE OF MASCULINITY?? My favorite one was Grant and Ana’s, though, because it was so goddamn absurd I cannot believe someone wrote it. Basic gist was that Ana was dating someone on Grant’s team (he’s the captain, natch) but the guy was a dick and abusive and so one night Ana decides to leave, but she needs someone to help her and WHO DOES SHE TURN TO??? That’s right, reclusive captain Grant. Who’s spent the last few years watching his teammates marry-up and start families and he’s so jealous, but he can’t say anything because he’s a stoic MAN™. So he takes Ana and her dog (of course she’s got a dog) back to his super swanky bachelor pad and she just sort of...stays there? Video of the boyfriend accosting her at her job gets leaked and the boyfriend gets sent to the AHL which is not really how it would work, but fine. Naturally, Grant and Ana hook up. It’s emotional. Vaguely romantic. There’s no GODDAMN CONDOM. So, she gets pregnant. But, of course. Except! She doesn’t know if it’s dick boyfriend’s or Grant’s. Because he’s the male lead in a free sports romance on Amazon, Grant is the MOST understanding. He wants to help Ana. He would like to continue having sex with Ana. This is ready-made happily ever after. Only Ana’s like...eh?? She doesn’t want it to look like she bounced from one hockey player to the next, but also she sorta did and she kept telling Grant she just wanted to be friends, only to have sex, like, three chapters later. Then she just moved out! Just moved out. Seven months pregnant. Moving out. With her dog. Of course, this is a free sports romance on Amazon, so eventually she moved back in with Grant. Once she realized independence wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. And because he left practice to be there when she had the baby. Oh! And she got a DNA test after. To see whose kid it was. Grant ripped that ‘ish up. Just ripped it up. Which is cool, I guess. But, like, you didn’t want to double check? What if that kid has to go to the hospital? Did she put Grant’s name on the birth certificate? What are his parental rights?? Anyway, they’re all set to live HEA when....THE DICK BOYFRIEND DIES. Straight up. No explanation. Nothing. Just Grant tells Ana he’s dead, she’s like, oh wow that’s sad, they send some flowers to the funeral and that’s THAT. I assume this was to close any potential plot holes on the father of this baby, but it was hysterical and I cannot stop thinking about it. Strangely enough, the one where the couple made a secret sex tape in college and then got back together because it got released may have been the healthiest relationship in this series.

#book recs #book rec #book reccs #laura reads books #welllp these are books #i will not apologize for that bingo board #i think this is a highlight of accomplishments #like for me personally

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