#person. the doctor is who she came from but she isn’t just the doctor anymore.) and rose knows her doctor is out there and loves her but

[quietwingsinthesky]

at some point i am going to have to force even to go back and deal with donna & tentoo & rose & all and everything they ran away from. and that will probably involve them losing tentoo’s chameleon arch watch by giving it back to its rightful owner, whether she chooses to open it or not. and that is. not going to be a very fun or stable time for them.

[gor3sigil]

I’m Trans and Insane and I’m doing fine.

[TW Psychosis, transphobia, psychophobia, medication, psych ward]

“Are you sure ?” she asked.

I remember looking back at her in disbelief, because that was certainly a question I never asked her when she came out.

“Why do you ask ?” I say.

“Dude, I’ve seen you go into depersonalization so hard you even thought you were a human soul in a robot vessel and now, you want me to trust you when you say that you, too, are trans ?”

That’s the memory that comes back to me as I fold and put in my bag my psychiatrist’s note attesting that I suffer from gender dysphoria, NOT LINKED to any psychotic symptoms. Here it goes in my folder with my prescription note, an increase - again - of my anti depressants and Xan, and my endocrinologist’s HRT prescription, increased too - finally.

I go to two separate pharmacies to pick up each prescription for two reasons:

There is only one in this godforsaken town that always had testosterone in stock.

I can’t explain to you with words the look you can get when you give back to back, to someone who, despite not being a doctor, works in healthcare, a note for trans HRT and then a note for psychiatric meds.

And I’m lucky, because I’m not taking antipsychotics anymore. Contrarily to what you could think, it doesn’t magically makes the voices and the shadowy people disappear, but it can make a mess of your head pretty bad and my doctor and I both agreed that I didn’t need more damage up here than what I already had. And no, it doesn’t make your delusions vanish magically too: in fact, I was still pretty certain that I was talking to my soul family out here in Argentine telepathically about my mission on Earth, the meds just made it more difficult to understand their voices, but the belief was still solid.

Anyways, I’m back home with the Hoy Grail I fought tooth and nails to get: a letter from the Sacred Council of Mental Sanity also known as Psychiatry that I was, indeed, a bit delulu, but also trans, and that both things didn’t play into each other. My transness wasn’t a delusion, my delusions didn’t have anything to do with being trans.

Or did it ?

Chicken or egg, you know the drill. Did I have my selves fractured before and one of the piece that shattered my brain happened to make me trans or was I just trans with a shitload of traumas in the back that made me insane ?

But don’t worry, at least, trans people when we’re together, we have each other’s back ! Right ?

“Transidentity ISN’T a mental illness !! We don’t DESERVE to be FORCIBLY LOCKED UP and MEDICATED and MADE TO CONFORM FOR OTHER’S SENSE OF SECURITY !!”

Neither do I, RIGHT ?

Oh

Or do I ?

Remember what she said, my girlfriend, right at the beginning ?

How I can’t be trusted about myself when sometimes I don’t even have a sense of self anymore or I have too much selves who fight against each other ?

And what do we say to that ?

Get treatment. Get in-patient. Take medication. And for the love of God, shut the fuck up about it, you’re giving us a bad name.

Because being trans and crazy can’t exist. It’s absurd. You have to fix one of these two things. Choose which jacket I’ll wear, and they call it a straitjacket for a reason it seems, so am I queer or am I insane ?

All I know today is there isn’t a universe in which I’m a trans without any mental illnesses, or mentally ill without being trans. And yet, I can’t tell you how many time I got asked “do you think you’d be trans if you never got through [x trauma] ?”. I. Don’t. Know. I’ll never know. And I deserve just as much agency as you get despite being mentally ill. If you don’t believe in that, don’t come yapping about “liberation for all of us”, but “if one of us is crazy they’ll all think I am too and that can’t happen”.

No LGBTQIAA+ person deserves to be told they need to be put away, to be cured, to be allowed out in the open only if they’re deemed “acceptable” by society’s standards. And no mentally ill people deserve to either.

No trans person should be going through years of counseling to have the access to HRT.

And I shouldn’t have had to threaten my own mother’s life to avoid being locked in an adult psych ward at 14.

If you ever think, for one second, that these two things have nothing to do with one another, you are far removed from history.

To hear queer people say “yeah but some mentally ill people are dangerous !” feels like you don’t even know where you come from.

And if I want to say, that me being trans is linked to me being mentally ill, or at least, that both are connected in a way, all hell breaks fucking loose.

So I’ll explain very carefully.

See, when I was young, my mind got shattered into a thousand of pieces I had to try to glue back on. All these pieces of myself broke further more down the line because I couldn’t catch a fucking break. And now, it happens that the final puzzle does not have the same face it had before. It happens that its shape changed over time, for reasons over the control of all of us who tried to build ourselves back. Now there’s a bigger picture, less pieces, a few other shadows, and me. Built from the shatters. With my own needs and afflictions.

And whoever you are, whatever your agenda might be, I will not let anyone take any agency away from me under the false pretext that I can’t know anything for myself. They say that about children, they say that about minorities, about physically disabled people, about the people they want OUT. And my trans siblings, you know that.

I came out for the first time 7 years ago, to my then girlfriend, who was the one asking the question that is the first sentence of this text. I came out a second time 3 years ago. Been on HRT, had top surgery, had psychotic breaks, got my meds changed, switch therapist.

Because I am trans and crazy. And yet, all these choices I made, I made myself. It didn’t have to be that hard to get the basic care I needed. It didn’t need to be. But it WAS. And I’m part of the lucky crowd of people who had access to out-patient treatment, who never have been locked up in ward, who managed to stay alive through meds withdrawals without medical assistance when I had no therapist.

Be very careful of when you start to put conditions on the rights you think you deserve. Be very, very careful about your definition of sanity and of how it warps the way you see people. When you start to say “I have access to that, but there’s people like X or Y who shouldn’t BECAUSE”, pause and ask yourself what led you to think this way. More often than not, you’ll find yourself playing the same mind games as the ones you swore to fight against, and when it gives them the upper hand, they won’t hesitate to come for you after that.

[cameronspecial]

I saw you were looking for some angst ideas lmao

So rafe and reader are together. Loves her more than life but his addiction gets in the way of that. One night they have a fuming argument and she doesn’t talk to him for a few days. He then makes a plan for them to talk about it somewhere private at nighttime, but when she shows up he’s not there. She waits for him for a while then she gets attacked by the rafes dealers because he owes them money and she was the next bet. Rafe finds her and he’s freaking out but she won’t let him near her and she blames him. You can choose how this ending goes or if you even want to write this but this has been on my mind

You Deserve Better

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Drug Use, Swearing, Stabbing, Blood, and Death

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 2.1K

Masterlist

The centre of Rafe’s life wasn’t always the white powder that tumbled around the little Ziploc bag that lined his pockets. His centre is supposed to snort or wheeze a little whenever she laughs, refusing to use her inhaler because she doesn’t want to embarrass him. It will stay up past her bedtime because she is in a flow with her work. His sun crosses her eyeballs whenever he presses a kiss on her nose because she knows it would make him chuckle. Y/N Y/L/N used to be his rock and now, all because of an accident, she isn’t anymore. That is something not a lot of people know. They assume his addiction started because he was a bored rich kid who had the money to spare. However, in reality, it began with a torn ACL. One wrong shift of his leg and his football career was over. At first, the oxycodone was only to manage the pain from the ACL surgery. He had the hope that he could recover the way he needed to get back on the field, but then the news came that he wasn’t progressing the way his doctor wanted… That was when the problem started, suddenly the drug he was taking to help ease his physical pain became the one to take away his mental pain too. The pain of not being able to play football. The pain of missing out. The pain of not knowing where his life was going.

Don’t get him wrong, Y/N was by his side the whole time, except a person can’t be everything to someone else and he needed a therapist. He just wasn’t ready to admit that. It was only when he stopped being prescribed oxycodone that he turned to cocaine to fill the mental hole the prescription used to be for.

———

Rafe’s blown pupils are hidden by his eyelids as he lies back on the couch. Y/N is still out with her friends, so he isn’t sleeping. Not when she is not at home. The front door opening and closing makes him jerk forward. His eyelids are just a sliver because the light from the ceiling is too bright for him. Her footsteps approach the living room and the large sigh she lets out makes her arrival known. “You didn’t do the dishes,” she states, her hand resting on her jut-out hip. “And the hole in the hallway is still there.” Yesterday, Rafe, in a high state, accidentally made a hole in the wall when trying to put up a picture frame for her. He promised her before she left for work this morning that he would get what he needed to fix it this morning and in the afternoon, he would fix it. However, before he could get himself to the store, he saw a post from one of his old football teammates, who went pro and he spiralled. 

He doesn’t mean to roll his eyes, yet it happens and this causes her to let out another huff. “I didn’t get a chance to go to the store,” he grumbles like he didn’t care. He really did though. He wanted to be able to do something that simple for the girl who meant everything to him, except his mind seemed to disagree with his heart. It is easier to pretend it doesn’t bother him. Her eyes narrow in on the residue of powder on their coffee table, “Let me guess, you got your nose caught up in some business. Rafe, you promised me you wouldn’t do that shit at home.” He can’t keep looking at the way tears start to appear because he knows how worried she gets when he does drugs, always scared he might overdose. He looks anywhere but at her. “Don’t get on my ass about this again Y/N. You don’t know what I am dealing with,” he argues.

“I don’t and that’s the problem. You need to talk to someone about how you are feeling because you are going to put yourself in an early grave if you keep doing what you are doing now.”

“Seriously, we are going to argue about this again because I didn’t do the dishes or fix a little hole in the wall.”

“No, we are going to argue about it because you aren’t the man I fell in love with anymore and I don’t think if I can do this anymore. I want to be by your side to help you get better but if you don’t want to, then I don’t know if I can be here forever.”

Her words hit his ears at the same intensity as they would if he were sitting next to an airplane engine. They had arguments about his sobriety so many times before, yet those fights always had the underlying understanding that she would be there to help him. She never once mentioned the possibility of her leaving him because she truly did want to help him find his sobriety. His mouth falls open to talk. No words come out. How can he possibly swear that he wants to get better when he isn’t at the self-realization point in his journey? She takes the silence as an admittance that getting clean isn’t on his mind. “I need some time apart. I’m going to sleep at Deliah’s place tonight,” she informs, turning to leave. He doesn’t stop her; he wants to give her the space she needs in hopes that she realizes she can hold on for a little bit longer. The only word he can respond with is “Okay”, right before she closes the door behind her. 

———

She hasn’t answered any of his texts and calls. Her night of taking some space turned into a week and it is driving him crazy. Her non-existence return may have to do with his unwillingness to agree to go to a therapist. After the thousandth attempt at calling her, she finally answers the call. “Normally, when a person doesn’t pick up the call, it means they don’t want to talk to you.” He lets out an internal sigh, “I know, I just need to talk to you. Please, can we meet at our spot, Sunshine?” She could never resist the usage of his nickname for her. “Okay, meet me there in an hour,” she agrees. The call drops right after her response and he gives himself a small smile. Not only does he get to see her again, he gets to try to get her back. 

———

By the time she realizes she is being followed, she is alone under the bleachers, where she and Rafe used to spend their time in high school. It was where they found themselves when they didn’t feel like going to class or they needed to get away from the chaos after his team won a game. It was the place she fell in love with him in because even before they were dating when they were just friends, it was their spot. She spins around at the sound of grass being pressed down by a set of feet, ready to scold him for being late. It isn’t Rafe as she expected; instead, an average-height man with a dangerous air that scares her. The gleam behind his eyes tells her the bald man is up to no good, which is confirmed when he pulls out the hunting knife from his hoodie pocket. She steps back in an attempt to get away from him, but her back hits against a metal beam. The man rushes toward her and presses the sharp edge against the soft skin of her neck. “Your boy owes me money and since he is taking too long to get it back to me, I thought I would hold onto something precious to him until I get what I want,” the man explains with a wicked grin. She refuses to show him fear and looks him dead in the eyes, “Rafe’s dealer is Barry so I have no idea what you are talking about.” “He stopped going to Barry because Barry started getting on his case about how much he is using,” the male growled, not enjoying the bite to her bark. She chuckles like a maniac, “When Rafe comes, he is going to beat your ass.” “Shut up, Bitch.” Angered by his words, her knees find their target between his legs. 

He lets out a howl and doubles over in pain. She uses this as her opportunity to attempt an escape, trying to run past him. Unfortunately, he reaches out to stop her and this results in the blade driving into her abdomen. A gasp passes her lips, causing the dealer to look in her direction. “Shit.” His eyes bloom open and immediately begins to pull it out. “No. Don’t pu-,” she warns, except it is too late. The weapon is already out and he is running toward the exit. She hunches forward and stumbles back against the beam, pressing her hand to her stomach to keep from bleeding out, feeling as though she has been punched. Calling 911 seems to be the logical answer; however, when she goes for her phone, she finds it broken on the floor. She thinks about going to her car and is stopped by the feeling of even more blood gushing out of the wound as she tries to push off the beam. It doesn’t hurt as much as she thought it would. 

“Sunshine,” rings through her ears. Her dizziness makes it difficult to focus on the speaker, yet she knows who it is based on the nickname. She slides down the beam because her legs lose all their strength. Rafe rushes to her side and kneels beside her. “Shit, Sunshine. It’s going to be okay. Everything is going to be okay. I’m going to call the police. They are going to fix everything,” his voice breaks as his hand joins hers to stop the flow of his blood. She can hear him relaying the information to the dispatcher, but her body is telling her something Rafe isn’t going to be ready to hear. He places his phone on the floor so both of his hands can press on her abdomen. “They’re coming, Sunshine, just hold on. I promise. I’ll be here the whole time.” Her handshakes as she raises to his cheek, staining it with her blood. Her tears water at the edge of her bottom eyelid, “I don’t think I’m going to make it.” His head shakes vigorously. “Don’t say tha-.” She cuts him off, “Can you please just listen to me?” He nods to let her continue. “It was your dealer. I’m not telling you this to make you feel bad. Just to make sure he gets arrested. But I need you to know that you are more than just your addiction and football. I know you don’t think so, but you are and if you just realize that, then you will see the man that I fell in love with.” “I don’t deserve that though. Look at all the shit I put you through. You deserve more than a druggie as a boyfriend,” he cries, holding her hand against his skin.

She smiles up at him, “You deserve more too. You deserve to be truly happy. You deserve to try to find a new purpose in life. I want that for you.” “How can I find all of that if you are gone?” he questions. Her breathing begins to become laboured, “You’ll find yourself and once you grieve, you’ll find someone who can help heal your broken heart. That’s how.”

“I don’t want anyone else. I just want you. Please, don’t go. Will you please stay if I promise to get sober?” 

“I will be with you every step of the way.”

The words tear his heart in two. He knows what it means. She truly doesn’t think she is coming out of this alive. “I want you to see me get better though. Please. Just hang on a little longer.” His tears cloud his vision. When he doesn’t hear a response, he wipes his eyes to get a closer look at her. The world goes dark at the sight of her glassy eyes only reflecting back his face with no recognition or life behind them. The rise and fall of her chest have stopped. The universe decides to answer his calls for help at a cruel moment as he hears the siren finally approach. There is no use in their hurry if the person who needs saving is the one to do it because Rafe isn’t going to let her last words die with her. He is going to get better, not only for her but for him too. He deserves more than a life of chasing his pain away with drugs and he is determined to achieve that.

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming @magicalyoura

[wlntrsldler]

marvel masterlist

bucky barnes:

series

DOPPELGÄNGER: Bucky has only been in love once and it was before he was put in ice and way before he became the Winter Soldier. What happens when Bucky meets Y/N, the exact look alike of the girl he used to love? (Social Media AU) (WIP) DISCONTINUED

ROSES: Bucky tells Y/N he’s the Winter Soldier. The next day, he’s taken by the government and that’s the last Y/N sees of him... until they cross paths again. But what if Bucky doesn’t remember her? (COMPLETED)

TO BE SO LONELY: When Bucky and Y/N signed up for this online penpal system, they never expected to grow attached to the other person behind the screen. (COMPLETED)

FALLING: Bucky has been distant lately. Y/N doesn’t know why. (COMPLETED)

THE BREAKUP CHRONICLES: A collection of imagines that can be read independently or as a whole fic about Y/N and Bucky’s relationship post-breakup. DISCONTINUED

one shots

NOT MY TYPE AT ALL: Y/N isn’t Bucky’s type but honestly, he doesn’t care about that anymore. (Not My Type At All by Jacob Whitesides)

SLOW DANCING IN A BURNING ROOM: Y/N knew that Bucky had to leave someday but that didn’t mean that she was ready when the day came. (Slow Dancing In A Burning Room by John Mayer)

CLOSE TO YOU: Requested! Bucky loves Y/N, he didn’t mean to snap at her. (Close To You by Rihanna)

LAST KISS: 1940’s Bucky tells Y/N that he got his orders. (Last Kiss by Taylor Swift)

KISS ME SLOWLY: Bucky keeps running away from Y/N. He doesn’t want to get attached. (Kiss Me Slowly by Parachute)

FALLING LIKE THE STARS: Bucky and Y/N fall in love but he’s sent off to fight the war. (Falling Like the Stars by James Arthur)

HARD PLACE: Bucky and Y/N can’t stop fighting and it’s getting too much. (Hard Place by H.E.R)

F&MU**: Bucky and Y/N hate each other… but they can’t stop letting their anger out through sex. (F&MU by Kehlani) 18+!

MAY I ASK: Y/N and Bucky see each other for the first time since the breakup. Y/N confronts Bucky on why he ended things. (May I Ask by Luke Chiang)

I WILL BE FOUND:  Bucky finally found the place where he belongs when he met Y/N but at times, he wished that he could somehow take the life he used to have and magically fit it into the life he had now. (I Will Be Found by John Mayer)

10 AM: REQUESTED! Bucky is hopelessly in love with Y/N. He stops himself from saying anything to her because he’s afraid of getting hurt again, not knowing how much more he can take in his lifetime. (10AM by Keaton Henson)

FLAWLESS**: Bucky and Y/N are friends with benefits. They found a new thing to play with in the bedroom. The Winter Soldier. (Flawless by The Neighbourhood)

CHERIE: Bucky doesn’t understand why Y/N is always so happy. He never thought he would be one of the people who got entranced by her until he was. (Cherry by Harry Styles)

TEE SHIRT:  Bucky and Y/N walk into a music shop and she hears the song her and her ex used to love playing in the background. (Tee Shirt by Birdy)

I’M LONELY: lex’s writing challenge! enemies to lovers; “Will you wait for me?” (i’m lonely by luz)

LOUD: Every time Y/N is afraid, she plays her music too loudly but this time, Bucky is there to comfort her.

BUBBLES: Short Bucky imagine about bubbles.

DOCTOR ME UP: Y/N is Bucky’s doctor when he wakes up in Wakanda. 

WHITE DRESS: Bucky loves her, so so much, especially as she walks down the aisle in her white dress. 

SHAWARMAS: Bucky has a crush on Y/N, the cashier from the Shawarma place. 

NO CLUE: Y/N and Bucky hate each other. Nobody knows why. Whenever someone asks, the pair just say, “I have my reasons.” Some think that something happened between them when Bucky was in hiding. Some think that Bucky did something to Y/N when he was the Winter Soldier. Some think that there’s no actual reason- they simply hate each other.

RITUALS: You died on a mission and all Bucky has left is the voicemail you left him before you got on the Quinjet. 

FAMILIARITY: Love is a foreign concept to Bucky. 

peter parker:

JEALOUS: Where Peter tells Y/N that he’s Spiderman and things go down. (Jealous by Labrinth)

[thetriumphantpanda]

Ghost of You | J. Miller (Chapter One)

Series Summary / Grief is a strange thing. In the beginning it had been all-consuming. There wasn’t a moment of the day where you didn’t cry, didn’t ask yourself why it couldn’t have been you instead. And no-one ever explains the guilt you feel when it isn’t anymore. When it’s just a dull ache and you can finally breathe again, when you can start letting people get close to you again. People like Joel Miller.

Pairing / Joel Miller x Female Reader

Word Count / 3.4K

Warnings / soft!Joel, reader is a widow, in depth discussions and descriptions of grief and depression, will have eventual smut, SLOW BURN.

Authors Note / I AM SO PROUD OF THIS LITTLE STORY YOU HAVE NO IDEA. I've wanted to write soft!Joel for so long so I hope you love it as much as I do! If you do enjoy it, reblogs, asks and likes are my drug so I'd love to know what you think! Also considering following for more!

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Grief is a strange thing. In the beginning it had been all-consuming. There wasn’t a moment of the day where you didn’t cry, didn’t ask yourself why it couldn’t have been you instead. There were days that you couldn’t bring yourself to throw back the sheets of your bed and get up. For the first month, you think you managed to shower three times. No point if no-one was going to see you. You hadn’t left your house since the day of the funeral, life had become a monotonous circle of waking up, soaking your pillow with tears until you made yourself sick, throwing on the same clothes as before and then doing the same thing but led on the couch. 

People had reassured you it would get easier. That each day it would subside, little by little, and you cursed them for being right. The longer you sat with your misery, the easier it became. One morning, a few months ago, you remember waking up, only this time you didn’t roll over and place your hand on the empty side of the bed and cry when you realized your husband wasn’t there anymore. You got up and showered, taking 15 minutes to brush the matted mess of your hair, and you dressed in new clothes. 

You managed to walk to the market hall and purchase food with your ration cards and Maria had almost fallen over when she saw you in the aisle. That was the worst thing though. You’d been absent from life in Jackson for almost six months, and whenever you left your house people looked at you. Some still had those sympathetic eyes, telling you they were sorry for your loss, but there were the others who judged you. How pathetic you were for falling into despair like you had. 

It wasn’t as if he’d met a violent end, he was quite lucky, actually. In this world death came at the hands of evil, whether it was being taken and tortured by raiders, or torn limb from limb by infected. Your husband had died peacefully, drifting off in his sleep in the hospital. The doctors had said it was cancer, which seemed painfully unkind to him. He’d never smoked in his life and was probably the healthiest person you’d ever known, but when was life ever fair? 

You could tell they whispered once you’d passed. How dare she be so upset when my husband was killed on patrol? How lucky you were to have been able to say goodbye and hold his hand as he passed, when someone else turned into one of those things all alone. So now it wasn’t grief that kept you behind closed doors, but shame. Shame at knowing you thought they were right, that not being able to pull yourself together was selfish. Selfish to all the people who had managed to carry on with their lives after losing someone, selfish to the community for not being able to pull your weight. You were stuck and you had no idea what to do about it. 

The only way you could face leaving your home these days was on Maria’s comforting arm. She’d been your friend for years, she and Tommy seemingly the only people who understood you. Didn’t force you to do anything, let you come to your own decisions when you felt ready. No-one would dare look at you or speak in hushed tones whilst she was around. 

The sun was soaking Jackson now, it was summer, and you were grateful for the warmth of the sun on your skin, everything felt better with the sun on your back. With summer came one of your favourites of life’s simple pleasures. Strawberries. In the market you picked up as many as you could purchase after buying your essentials. Maria walked you home, helped you put away everything and then left with a comforting hug. 

You carefully placed a large handful of the fruit in a bowl, rinsing it under running water. You were about to sit down on your couch to eat them, but the sun was filtering invitingly through your front windows. You stripped off your jacket, leaving you in your simple tank top and jeans before opening your front door to sit on the bench on your porch. You had sunglasses resting on your face, Tommy had found them on a patrol trip a few months ago and you were grateful for the safety you felt from them. People couldn’t walk past and meet your eye. 

You were finishing your third strawberry when Tommy walked past, a man you didn’t know on his left shoulder. He took a look to your house and smiled on seeing you sat in a patch of sunlight, he waved, which you return, then he turns to the mysterious man on his left to say something before they start walking over. 

“It’s good to see you out, honey,” He smiled, walking to lean over the railing of your porch, “What’cha got there?” He asked, motioning his head to your bowl of strawberries. 

“You want one?” You asked, picking the bowl up and walking over to meet him, he gladly takes the biggest fruit in the bowl, pinching the spidery leaves off before putting the whole thing in his mouth, “How about you?” You asked, extending the bowl to Tommy’s mysterious companion. 

He takes a strawberry as well, doing as Tommy did, but he takes smaller bites of the fruit, like he’s savoring it, “This here’s my brother Joel,” Tommy speaks, Joel extends his hand and you take it, shaking it softly in greeting, “He arrived a few weeks back, he’s been getting settled with his daught… with Ellie, but I thought it was high time he started pulling his weight.” 

He had a smirk on his face as he said it and you could see the beginnings of a smile on Joel’s face too, “This one’s a real taskmaster,” You say to Joel, a smirk across your lips, “You’ll be wishing we had a retirement age soon enough.” 

“Can’t think where he gets it from,” Joel chuckles, “You were takin’ notes all the time we worked together before weren’t you?” 

Tommy smiles and nods, “Learnt from the best,” There’s another round of chuckles from the men, “Listen, we should get a move on, but I mean it, it’s nice to see you out like this.” 

“Thanks Tommy,” You offer a small smiled, “Here, take a strawberry for the road.” 

Both men take another fruit gladly before the way and make their way back down the street, leaving you on your own once more. You slide the sunglasses back onto your eyes and take your place in the path of sunlight on the bench. You sit there for a while, eating your strawberries, thinking about all the times you and your husband had done the same, holding hands as the sunset, cuddling up into his side when the temperature dropped. You realized suddenly that you weren’t sad. That the tears that usually threatened to fall were nowhere to be seen. Instead, there was just a feeling of happiness, grateful that you’d experienced love in a world where it had seemed impossible. Sure, you wished he would reach over and take your hand in his like he used to, squeeze it and place a soft kiss to your palm, but you were no longer ruled by the grief that had consumed you all those months ago. 

*

“She seemed nice.” Joel muses as he walks with Tommy. 

“She’s lovely,” He replies simply, “Just had a pretty rough time of it recently.” 

Joel hums in acknowledgement as his boots hit the ground in time with Tommy’s, “When you said it was good to see her out, what did you mean?” 

Tommy sighs at his question, but not out of frustration like he usually did when Joel asked him questions, more out of sympathy, “Her husband died about a year ago,” He begins to explain, “Nothin’ violent or anythin’ like that, the doctors reckoned it was cancer, but she took it real hard, I don’t think she got out of bed for the first week, and then after his funeral she just kinda withdrew, she’s been all alone in that house for months, refuses to leave unless it’s with Maria because people talk.” 

“People talk about her?” Joel is shocked, in a world where loss in inevitable, what makes someone else’s grief less worthy than others? 

“We’re safe here,” Tommy says, steering him into a building at the end of the street, “But that doesn’t mean people don’t die when they’re out there,” He references his patrol men, he’d lost a few which he would always hold heavy in his heart, “Maria told me once that when she took her to the market a few months ago, some busybody wives were talkin’ about how unfair it was she got to say goodbye, that he’d been sedated and it was easy for him.” 

Joel stops in his tracks, letting Tommy walk in front of him. They’re in the gun store, not for anything in particular, just so Joel knows where everything is so he can stop following his brother round like a lost puppy. His mind inevitably wanders to his own grief in this moment. The pain of losing his own daughter, the all-consuming feeling of ‘what is the point in life anymore?’ without her. The scar on the right side of his face and the hearing loss in the same ear when he’d tried to end it all. He hadn’t been strong, not really. If he hadn’t of flinched that would have been it, the easy way out, as some would have said. He’d struggled for a long time with his survival but that didn’t mean his was worth more than your grief, or yours more than his. It wasn’t that simple. 

“I spoke to them, told ‘em if I heard ‘em gossiping again then we’d have no issues moving them on their way, but I suppose people are always going to talk, they just do it where we can’t hear them.” 

“I’m guessin’ she knows?” 

“Of course she knows, Joel, that’s why she shuts herself away, easier that way I guess.” 

“Doesn’t make it fair though, feelin’ like you can’t leave your house because people are gonna judge the way your husband died.” 

“She’s been better recently,” Tommy speaks, leaning against the table behind him, “Still won’t really go anywhere without Maria, but seein’ her today, it was nice.”  Joel nods his way through Tommy explaining the signing out system for guns, follows him around to the stables where he shakes the hand of the young girl in charge of caring for them and then settles himself next to his brother at the bar for a drink. All the while, he can’t stop his mind drifting back to you and your loneliness, your despair at your loss, or the rotten porch step he’d noticed at the front of your house that might just give him the reason to get a little closer to you. 

*

A few mornings later, there is a soft knock at your door. Your face contorts in confusion, Maria wasn’t supposed to come until tomorrow. Leaving the coffee pot to its filtering, you walk slowly to the door, opening it to find Joel stood on your porch, toolbox in hand and planks of wood resting against the railing. 

“Good mornin’,” He croons, “Not interrupin’ anythin’ am I?” 

You shake your head, “Can I help you?” You asked, wincing slightly at the defensive tone of your voice. 

“Well, I hope you don’t mind, but when I passed with Tommy the other day, I noticed your porch step was rotting,” He points to the old timbers behind him, “I’m surprised you’ve not fallen through it already, so do you mind if I fix them?” 

Your exterior softens and a small smile pulls at your lips, “Of course,” You say, “I’m just making some coffee, do you want some?” 

“If you don’t mind sharin’, then I’d love some.” 

You leave him on the porch to get started. Your mug is already set next to the coffee pot, you open the cupboard and instinctively reach for the only other mug you ever needed. It had meant nothing to you when you moved in. It was white and had a pattern of sausage dogs printed on it, but it had always been his. You hold it in your hands when you realise what you’ve done. His face flashes behind your eyes. He’s standing in front of you, his hair tousled from sleep, his voice still low and raspy. He thanks you as he takes hold of his mug, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. You set it back in the cupboard like it had burned your palms, reaching instead of the plain black mug at the back of the cupboard. 

You rest your palms on the counter, closing your eyes to take deep breaths, feeling the weight of your body through to the ground. Once you don’t feel the wave of sadness flowing through you any longer, your quickly pour the coffee into the mugs, taking them out to the porch where Joel is currently working to take the rotten boards up, not that it’s taking much work, a little force from his hands and the wood in crumbling. 

“Here you go,” You say softly, setting the mug down next to his toolbox, “I hope you don’t mind it black, I spent all my rations on strawberries this week, so no milk.” 

“Just how I like it,” He says, looking up at you, “Thank you.” 

You take a seat on the bench out front, it’s been a long time since you had the company of someone that wasn’t Maria or Tommy and it was nice to watch him work whilst you sat in the sun. 

“Thank you, by the way, I didn’t realise it had gotten so bad,” You remark, and before you can think about what you’re saying, you add, “My husband always used to handle this stuff.” 

You press your fingers to your lips as Joel’s movement still slightly, he knows what you’ve said, but he continues working, “It’s alright, this is what I used to do before all of this, so I’ve got an eye for rotting wood.” 

“You were a builder?” You asked, desperate to steer the conversation away from your loss. 

“I was, Tommy and I were contractors, worked on a bunch of different sites together, kinda annoying the world ended, we’d just booked a really big job, was gonna pay the bills and then some for once, my daughter had already spent the money on a trip to Disney.” 

“Ellie?” You enquire, remembering the name Tommy had given. 

He shakes his head as he sits back on his knees, coffee mug in hand, “No, she’s not mine by blood, she came along a lot later, I lost my daughter on outbreak day.” 

“Oh,” You say simply, “I’m sorry Joel.” 

“It’s alright,” He shrugs, taking a mouthful of coffee, “I struggled, for a long time, didn’t see how it was fair, but it’s been easier recently, all because of Ellie, and this.” He motions around to the town. 

You’re silent for a while, your gaze flits between Joel working and the dregs of liquid in your cup. You understand in a way. The loss is different, but it’s loss all the same. 

“What was his name?” Joel asks quietly as he’s rooting through his toolbox for some nails, “Your husband.” 

“Mark,” You speak quietly, realizing quickly it was probably too quiet for him to hear, “His name was Mark.” 

“Were you together long?” 

“Eighteen years,” You answer, “He was my neighbour in the first QZ I was in, I’d lost my parents a few years before the outbreak so I was on my own, he moved in a year later and would always wake me up every morning when he stomped about to go to work,” You were smiling, recounting how you’d met, “One morning I’d had enough, I went right over there, pounded on the door and gave him what for. Said I was tired of waking up to the sound of his work boots every morning, and I guess the rest is history.” 

Joel smiles as he reaches for his hammer, nailing in the new boards, “Love at first sight?” He asked, worried at first that it’s too personal a question. 

“Something like that,” You offer in reply, “I guess it just kinda happened really, like most things do.” 

There’s silence between you again as Joel hammers in the last of the nails. He stands up, pressing his full weight on the step, “All done,” He declares, shutting away his toolbox, “Don’t have to worry about you fallin’ through it now.” 

You stand up to admire his handiwork, you must admit he was good at what he did. Efficient but thorough, the step had never looked so good, even when you’d first moved in, “Thank you Joel,” You place a hand on his arm and give it a gentle squeeze, “I really appreciate it.” 

“No problem,” He bends to pick up his coffee mug and hands it over to you, “Nothin’ else need sorting?” 

“I mean, nothing that risks death or serious injury,” You jest, “But there is something you might be able to help with.” 

You gesture for him to follow you through the house, setting the dirty mugs in the sink as you pass through. You open the back door and motion for him to join you. The garden is a mess, there’s no beating around the bush here. The grass is out of control, but that’s because you haven’t been able to go and get your gas ration for the lawnmower. The decking out back is fine, Mark’s handiwork in the year before he died, but you point to the unfinished table and chairs in the corner, or rather the pile of wood that never got to become the table and chairs. 

“Mark was going to build some table and chairs, you know, so we could have guests over or sit out here in the evenings, but he got sick before he could really start,” There’s a lump in your throat now and you’re willing yourself not to cry, not now, in front of a man you barely know, but nothing you do can quell the feeling inside of you and a few tears fall down your cheek, “God, I’m so sorry,” You sniffed, “I’ve done so well not to do this today.” 

“Hey, it’s alright.” Joel soothes, he pressed a firm hand to your shoulder for comfort but keeps his distance, which you are grateful for. 

He gives you a moment to compose yourself, watching closely as you rub the tears from your eyes and take a deep breath, “It would just be nice to have somewhere to sit where people aren’t going to watch me.” 

Joel’s heart almost breaks at your words. He doesn’t know you, not in the slightest, but the thought that you felt like you had to hide away, in your own community, the place that was meant to make you feel some semblance of normal, was preposterous to him. 

“I’ll build you something, don’t worry,” He reassures, “Tommy has me on patrol for the next few days, but as soon as I can, I promise I’ll build you the best damn table and chairs you’ve ever seen.” 

You laugh now, through the remnants of your tears, “Thank you.” Is all you can manage to say. 

He’s turning around then, you go to follow him, but he stops in his tracks, eyes admiring the trellis against the back wall of your home, full in bloom of sweet peas, “These are beautiful.” He comments. 

“They’re sweet peas,” You inform him, “Maria found the seeds for me, said something about it being good for me to have something to put my energy into,” You shrug, “I guess she was right.”

You reach out and pluck one of the deep purple blooms, “These are my favourites,” You say, turning the bloom over in your fingers before you hand it to him, he looks confused, “Sweet peas are meant to symbolize kindness and friendship,” You explain, “Also fond goodbyes, but I think kindness is more appropriate here.” 

He takes the bloom and tucks the stem into the breast pocket, the petals of the flower peeking out where you can both see it, “Well then, thank you,” He nods, “I’ll see you soon, sweet pea.” 

PREV | NEXT

[glitter-alienz]

Not to post a long vent/rant on my main AND on intersex awareness but like, I’ve been thinking about how its awful when people say weird shit about you for being intersex, but it’s even weirder to me when those people are queer/trans. Like.. it’s not too hard to educate yourself trust me. Read or listen to a book by an intersex person or something. And yet it feels like those queer people will do anything but learn. Asking about a trans persons genitals is weird and we all agree on that. And yet I get asked what my situation down there is BY OTHER TRANS PEOPLE ever. Single. Time. I mention I’m intersex? Like?? it just doesn’t make sense to me. You don’t like cis people asking you what’s in your pants but it’s fine to ask me?? What?

content warning for a slight mention of csa It irks me even more because my intersex condition specifically has to do with my genitals so I’ve been constantly made to feel like a freak for it (by my family and also one doctor) to a degree I stopped going to the doctors about it. I haven’t seen a doctor regarding it for 11 years i wish I was joking. Even my mother (who is also intersex but it’s mainly her hormones) would constantly say I was deformed and it’s funny because my shit ain’t even that crazy looking so like? Why are you telling a child that they’re disfigured and disgusting. and you’re also intersex, what? But my mom’s generally odd so.

And I’m fine with what I have, like I get dysphoric about it sure but I don’t think I’m a freak anymore.

My mother didn’t even tell me I was intersex because she was ashamed. I found out when I went to a doctor about my urinary track issues. And when I came out as trans she told me i felt like a man because my hormones were fucked up. Okay??

She was more insistent that I be girly than with my sisters. They were allowed to cut hair hair and all.She was so mad that my grandma named me a gender neutral name because she didn’t want people to think I’m a boy (even tho I am). And I was never “girly” and that triggered her more.

I’m lucky I never had surgeries (except a small procedure because I couldn’t piss normal as a baby) but I had so many horrible experiences in hospitals and at home from family members BECAUSE I was intersex. It’s feels like people just don’t see me as a person. Being intersex was like, the main reason I went through csa and it made me feel like I deserved it because I was a freak (I don’t believe that anymore)

Being told by your African mother who’s obsessed with her children going on and marrying, that no man will ever want to marry you because you’re a (slur) is crazy. I’m not even attracted to men but sure. Go off I guess. She even told my sisters that because of my birth defect I will probably never have kids but like, no doctor ever confirmed that. She’s like making shit up at this point.

and to be called names and slurs all my life by my family? That was not fun! I didn’t even understand most of the shit they said as a kid. So many sexual comments and I was like nine. I feel so uncomfortable around my family because of this.

I never tell people I’m intersex unless it’s like, brought up. I’m open about it on here because my blog isn’t big and so I feel like there is less of a chance of someone coming to me saying some weird shit. And even then strangers still could tell. When I was going through puberty, my voice was all hoarse and kept cracking. I’ve been called a boy as an insult by other kids. It didn’t really upset me because I do identify as a trans guy but it’s just, awful. To people who don’t. There is so many intersex people who were made to feel like less than a person for something they’ve been born with. Out of their controls. My mother always had a deeper voice than my dad and my cousins always joked about it. And I imagine it was worse when she was younger. And yet she decided to put me through the same shit. Wow this rant became about my mother. Just like every other rant hhh

even tho I’m now an adult my voice is stuck like how it was when I was 14 and my hormones are always going crazy. I feel like im still going through puberty even at 21. it’s especially sucks as a trans guy because If I try to pretend like I’m a cis girl people are still going to be weird. (I tried at 16 but highschoolers will hang you for having some hairs on your lip… they were meaner when I tried to be girly like??? Okayyy)

It’s so easy to treat intersex individuals as humans. What the frak. You don’t even have to know they’re intersex. If someone is different and you get weird you should die. Especially if you’re queer.

I love making characters that are intersex in the same way as me. It’s nice, makes me feel less like shit. Ik I’m never gonna see characters like that so I do it myself 💪🏾

but then some IDIOT comes and tell YOU 🫵🏾 an intersex individual, that you’re fetishizing and sexualizing intersex people. What? Brother. I am not at the level of self love, where I fetishize my own body yet but thank?? What is going?! on why do these people jump into fetish when they see something they don’t like. And why does their brain jump to “FETISH 🤓 👆” when they see an intersex character??? What does this mean???

please if you read this far and you’re not intersex please please read something written by an intersex person I’m begging you. Learn. It’s okay to even read POSTS on here written by intersex people. Since you had the time to read my dumb little vent.

[kiddbegins]

You okay? - James Wilson

Requested: no

Word count: 1,081

Warnings: mention of death / loss (doctor losing a patient) but it’s nothing graphic

A/n: idk this idea just came to me?

Masterlist

Being a doctor wasn’t always easy. It wasn’t. No matter how many times people tell you how gratifying and wonderful it is to save lives, nobody ever goes on to tell you how horrible it is when you fail.

When you have been working with someone for any length of time but it just isn’t enough. You hardly consulted with House’s team. They weren’t in much need of a psychiatrist as much as the other main fields of study.

But one of the few times they did. You failed to help them. Well, it wasn’t your fault. The patient didn’t want to put up a fight anymore and there was nothing you or anybody could do to make them.

Nonetheless it ate at you the rest of your shift. No amount of clinic hours or helping out in the ED did anything. And it wasn’t unnoticed by anyone.

Cuddy could see you running circles around the reception desk clearly from her office, unsure of how to help you focus in and acknowledge that it wasn’t your fault. By the time she thought of something to say, you were gone.

Already trailing off to get away from all people for just a small amount of time. The roof had been that get away for you since you first got there. Something about being able to see out to the trees and see as people came in or out without being caught on your own. It was soothing.

Not to mention how quiet it was. Sure sometimes there was the buzz from the vents, either the heat or the air conditioning working overtime but usually, it was silent. Hardly able to hear the people on the ground level below.

There were only three people that knew where to find you if needed. Wilson, the first person you ever brought up there to decompress. Chase, him having followed you after a disagreement over a patient’s treatment. And House, because well, he’s House so why wouldn’t he know where every doctor disappeared to?

The door to the roof had a creak to it, which is how you knew one of those three people were coming to bother you. Or maybe someone else just needed a breather but the silhouette that stood over you was enough for you to know that that was in fact not the case.

Instead you looked up, Wilson standing over you before he took the spoke just to your left. It wasn’t shocking to you that he came and found you. That was what he did.

No matter what, if James Wilson thought you needed to talk, he was there. Something about how you bear the weight of all your patients, someone’s gotta take a bit of your load off.

It was endearing. And maybe that was why there was always a feeling of ‘maybe someday’ in the air when he was around. Or maybe that was all in your head.

Either way, when he sat next to you, you sighed, “I don’t want to talk about it.”

It was true, if you talked, you’d cry, and if you cried, he’d see and you hated crying around anyone. Not just him.

“That’s fine,” He said, his legs splayed out in front of him. Wilson didn’t mind the quiet. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t stolen your space of solitude once in a while. Usually to avoid House who somehow hadn’t put together that he’d use the rooftop too.

You shifted, pulling your knees to your chest, resting your chin on the top of your knee caps. “Thank you.” A usual sentence from your mouth to the other doctor. And one he usually brushed off.

“Don’t thank me. I’m only here so I have a reason to take a break,” He spoke. It was an obvious lie. He was there because he wanted to check on you. Wanted you to be okay.

The humorous part was just a cover up to try and keep the fact that he cared under wraps. It failed though, you seeing right through it. “Can I at least ask if you’re okay?”

His question surprised you, slightly turning your head to look at him. The way his brown eyes met yours made your heart clench and tears immediately sprout into your eyes.

You turned away, trying to cover the fact that that one simple sentence was the equivalent of a wrecking ball to a concrete wall. “I’m not.”

There was no point in lying. It was very clear from the beginning that you were not taking the loss of this case easily. It was so obvious that anybody that got a glimpse of you could tell.

Hesitantly, Wilson reached out, putting an arm over your shoulder. Things weren’t normally weird but with him he could never be sure what was okay and what wasn’t okay for a friend to do.

As soon as his arm touched you, a sob broke through your chest, the stone that brought the entire building down. With your eyes squeezed shut he shifted to pull you against him, the arm over your shoulder having the hand holding the back of your head.

The opposite was rubbing small circles onto your knee. All the while he was trying to soothe you. Quiet repeats of ‘It’s okay.’ And ‘I got you. Just breathe.’s from the man.

They were surprisingly helpful, the gentle and caring aura he always held was strong. Like it was single handedly creating a bubble around you and keeping the dark clouds of Poseidon's storms out.

Once you’d calmed some, he rested his chin atop of your head, his fingers still carding through your hair. “Did that help at all?” He muttered, waiting for a response which was only given through a slight nod as you let yourself lean against him.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to cry like that-“

“Are you really apologizing for crying?”

The tone of his voice made you look down slightly, only a tinge ashamed that you even thought about saying sorry for having the most human reaction to death that there was.

You wetly laughed, nodding, “I guess I was.” You muttered, “I won’t again.” You added before he could say anything about it.

Softly Wilson nodded, letting you just breathe, leaning against him. It did what he expected it would. Call you down while also giving him excuse to hold you in his arms.

Just like he always wanted to do.

JOIN WILSONS TAGLIST HERE!

Tags: @cuntyvicodin

(Also there were a couple forms filled out for Wilson/chase with no usernames? This and dejerw [can’t tag] were the only two I can see the users for)

[marvelsdc22]

Home For The Summer

Intro: Hey guys! Its been a hot minute since I've posted an actual story on here, I've been having severe writers block and have been going through a lot recently, but I managed to make some time and write something, I hope y'all enjoy! And thank you to @wokeupinawalnut for the assistance in creating this :) love you <3

Summary: Melissa is your mom's best friend, she's become someone you looked up to and could come to for anything, what happens when feelings start to change and your mother turns ruthless?

Warnings: Potential trigger for alcoholism, verbally abusive behavior, reader is 23/24 by the end(let me know if I missed any)

Word Count: 3k

You had known Melissa since you were thirteen, your mother had brought her over after a long day at the school, the two of them having become friends earlier that year when you and your mother had moved here after your mother divorced your dad, who was no longer in the picture, getting the second grade teaching position at Abbott. Melissa had then become someone you looked up to and could confide in when your mother wasn’t around to listen, which happened more and more the older you got.

When you turned seventeen, you started seeing Melissa in a different light, you started to feel things for the other woman that you knew wasn’t right to feel when it came to your mother’s best friend, but you couldn’t help yourself, you found your gaze on her everytime she was around, quickly averting your gaze when you saw her turn your way, you figured this was just one of those stupid crushes, hell you hadn’t even been on a date yourself, no one interested you enough to get that far.

You had hoped that going away for college would change your feelings for the fiery redhead, getting a decent scholarship to Stanford for their medical school, ever since you were given the opportunity to volunteer at the local hospital, you had your heart set on becoming a doctor so when the opportunity appeared, you took it with no hesitation and immediately accepted the offer you had received.

The day you left, your mother was supposed to drop you off at the airport and see you off, but instead you had to call Melissa last minute when your mother told you she was unable to, grateful that she agreed with no hesitation, loading your bags into the bed of her truck before climbing into the passengers seat, you a bundle of nerves and not just from flying away for school.

The ride was silent aside from the quiet music playing through the trucks speakers “You doing alright over there, kid?” Melissa asked, lightly nudging you with her elbow and causing you to jump slightly, having been lost in your thoughts and looking at her after a moment, furrowing your brows before sighing “Nervous and a little upset that my mom isn’t willing to take the time to see her only child off” you admitted, wringing your hands out in your lap, freezing when she rested a hand on one of yours “It’s her loss, you’re gonna do amazing, I know it might not mean much coming from me, but I’m very proud of the person you’ve become and who you’re going to be, kid” she said, squeezing your hand and you felt tears building in your eyes as your stomach flipped and your heart pounded, the praise making you feel lighter “Thank you”.

When you got to the airport, you expected Melissa to just drop you off at your terminal but she took the turn for the parking garage instead, her taking you the whole way through until she couldn’t follow you anymore “C’mere” she said, pulling you into a tight hug and rubbing your back as you buried your face in her neck “Let me know when you land, I’m gonna miss you so much” she said, giving you one last squeeze before pulling away “I will, I’ll miss you more… Thank you” you smiled, squeezing her hands which you were still holding before turning and heading through security, heading for the next phase of your life.

xxxxx

Little did you know that Covid would hit and hinder any and all travel plans you had, keeping you trapped in California to the point you just never visited, not like your mother cared, you were lucky to get a message from her a day, let alone a phone call, you finally found time during your fifth year, you finally had a small break in classes that you were able to come home for the summer, you still kept in touch with everyone, especially Melissa whose been with you through it all, the nights you were stressed out from all the studying? She was a phone call or facetime away, when you were excited about something that just happened? She was there, as the years went by though, you felt something change between the two of you, she seemed to be more flirty when it came to talking to you, but maybe you were overthinking it all and your brain was twisting what was really happening.

I just landed - You

Just found a parking spot, I’ll see you shortly ;) - Mel

You stumbled slightly when you saw the emoji she chose to use, why would she use that one? Was she trying to hint at something? Here you go again, overthinking, she didn’t mean anything by it, you heading for the baggage claim and waiting for your bag to come on the conveyor, fixing your mask as you scrolled through your phone, you didn’t trust planes when it came to this virus, so you’d rather be safe than sorry, you glanced up when you caught a glimpse of what seemed to be your bag, barely able to set it on the ground before you felt arms wrap around you, causing you to tense before you saw the red hair and smelled her usual perfume, turning in her grasp to return the hug just as tightly.

“I can’t believe you’re home” Melissa said softly, pulling back and cupping your face as to get a better look at you, your heart stuttering before you rested your hand on one of hers, lightly leaning into her touch and missing the flash of adoration in her gaze as you closed your eyes “I’ve missed you” you said softly, looking at her once more before you took a step back and grabbed your suitcase, her still holding your hand as she led you through the airport “I missed you more, your mother has been getting on my nerves without you there for buffer” she laughed, glancing back at you and smiling when you let out a giggle “Not surprising, she doesn’t have me to annoy”.

The drive to your mothers house was quiet, the familiarity of the ride calming as she drove you guys through the busy city “You hungry? That sandwich shop is on the way” Melissa said, breaking the silence as she glanced over at you, catching the smile that appeared on your face at the suggestion “When do I ever say no to that place?” You laughed, throwing her a grin before you relaxed back in the passengers seat, feeling more at home than you have in a while.

When you finally got into your mothers house, it felt different, everything was moved around, it didn’t look like the house you had finished growing up in “About a year after you left, she did a whole renovation of the place” Melissa told you as she followed behind you with your suitcase that she insisted on bringing inside, watching as you took in the new layout, a little lost but it was your mothers house and she could do what she wanted with it.

Heading back to your room, you stopped in front of the closed door; would it be changed too? Your mother wouldn’t do that… right? You so lost in your mind you didn’t notice Melissa looking at you worriedly, opening her mouth to say something when you pushed the door open, the two of you freezing when it was a basic room, not at all how you left it “I didn’t know she did this” Melissa admitted, knowing that she would’ve warned you if she had known, anger evident in her tone and looking at you when you released a shaky breath, setting your suitcase down and tugging your arm so you’d face her “Oh hun, c’mere” seeing the tears building and pulling you into her without another word.

Later that night, you were waiting for your mom to come back, having asked Melissa to give you some time to yourself after she helped you calm down, needing time to figure out what you were going to say to your mom about changing your room without notifying you first, startling when you heard the front door open, your mom staring at you in slight shock, she must’ve forgot or wasn’t paying attention when you had told her that you were coming home for the summer “What are you doing here?” She asked, irritation evident in her tone, it feeling like a knife was dug into your chest at the harsh question “I only told you three times that I was coming home for the summer” you said, watching as she set her things down and kicked her shoes off, basically brushing you off as she headed for the kitchen.

Getting up and following her into the kitchen, you watched as she dug around in the fridge, completely disregarding the food that was on the stove that you had made and was keeping warm until she got home “There’s food on the stove-” getting cut off when she slammed the fridge door closed “What do you really want, Y/N?” She asked, crossing her arms and watching as you started wringing your hands out, a habit you had developed over the years when you got nervous or stressed out, both happening right at that moment.

“I saw you changed things… it looks nice” you started, gesturing to the living room behind you which was decked out in new furniture “Why didn’t you tell me that you were changing my room too?” You asked, feeling yourself start to shrink back under her sharp gaze that seemed to analyze everything about you “I don’t need your approval to change things in my house” she stated, raising a brow when you let out a frustrated sigh “I know you don’t, but that was my space, it would’ve been nice to know-” “You don’t live here anymore, you are no longer my responsibility nor do I want or need you, so do us both a favor and get back on that plane and leave me alone!” She shouted, pushing past you and heading upstairs, you noticing this time just how much she reeked of alcohol, a door slamming jarring you out of your shock.

With tears in your eyes, you ran out of the house, ignoring the fact it was raining as your legs carried you to a familiar destination, ending up at Melissa’s front door, tears running down our cheeks and soaked to the bone, the minutes between knocking and her finally opening the door feeling like an eternity, feeling a rush of relief when she finally opened the door in a comfy looking shirt and sweatpants, her hair a little everywhere indicating she had been asleep and a bat in hand, making you idly wonder what time it really was “Mel…” you choked out, more tears slipping out.

“Y/N? What the hell? Get in here-” setting the bat to the side before pulling you into the house and shutting the door behind you “-you’re soaked, let me grab you a towel” she said, turning and rushing down the hallway, returning quickly and wrapping the towel around you before pulling you into her arms “Shhhh… tell me what happened, hun” she whispered, holding you tighter when you let out a choked sob into her chest, letting you take the time you needed to explain what all went down, her heart breaking at the fact your own mother treated you the way she had.

After you explained everything to Melissa, she led you to her room so she could give you some fresh, warm clothes to change into “I’m sorry I woke you up” you apologized, watching as she pulled one of her eagles shirts out and a pair of sweats, her setting them on the bed before going over to you and cupping your cheeks, wiping a stray tear away with her thumb “Don’t apologize, I would rather you wake me than go wandering around in this weather… go change, I’ll be in the living room” she said, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead before leaving the room, closing the door behind her to give you privacy.

When you came back into the living room, you felt your face start to burn when you caught her smiling at the fact you were in her clothes, watching as she set her phone down and patted the spot next to her, tugging you closer when you sat on the other end rather than next to her “You are free to stay with me as long as you need, do you need anything before I head back to sleep?” She asked, wanting to make sure you were taken care of before returning to her room, smiling and patting your leg when you assured her you were okay, pressing a kiss to your head before she headed back to her room.

About an hour later, you got up to head to the spare room for the night when you saw something light up on the coffee table, looking over and seeing Melissa’s phone still sitting there, catching a glimpse of a message from your mother on it.

If you care so much about them then you keep them… - Y/M/N

That small bit that you could see without unlocking the phone was enough to twist the knife that was already buried in your chest, taking a deep breath to steady yourself before returning Melissa’s phone to her room, moving carefully as to not wake her, plugging her phone into the charger and setting it on the nightstand before turning to sneak out, making it to the end of her bed when your pinky toe caught the end of the bed “Shit!” You muttered, collapsing to the floor and holding your foot in pain.

Melissa jumped up when she heard the thud and quickly turned the lamp on before she turned and saw you on the floor “Are you okay, sweetheart?” She asked, helping you up and having you sit on the edge of her bed “Yeah, I was heading to bed and noticed your phone was still on the coffee table so I wanted to put it where it belonged and my toe caught your bed” you admitted sheepishly, watching as Melissa fought hard to not laugh but a small chuckle slipped out “Well, thank you for returning it-” picking her phone up and seeing the message “-what did you see?”

Dropping your gaze to the floor, you messed with the strings on the sweatpants “Enough” you shrugged, taking a shaky breath “She’s not wrong, I’m not important and I don’t deserve anything-” trailing off when her hand firmly gripped your chin and turned your head to face her “Stop that, you deserve everything and your mother is stupid for not realizing that” she said, lightly running her thumb along your bottom lip “Anyone who gets the chance to love you will be the luckiest person alive” she said, her eyes drifting to your lips before meeting your gaze once again “Mel…” You whispered, feeling an imaginary pull between the two of you.

“Can I kiss you?” You asked, locking eyes with her for a moment before realizing what you had just said “I’m sorry, I don’t-” you stuttered before her lips cut you off, stealing the remaining words you had before you melted into the kiss, the two of you pulling back when breathing became necessary, resting your foreheads against one another “I’ve wanted to do that since that night you went to that party and sent me that selfie” Melissa admitted, that having been the night you went to a party last summer, it having been a small one with some classmates, you having sent her a selfie to make sure you looked good, you had wondered why it had taken her so long to respond.

You smiled as you looked at her “Really? I’ve had a crush on you since I was seventeen, I thought it would go away when I left for school… Obviously not” you admitted, reaching over and tucking some loose red strands behind her ear, smiling into the small peck she gave you “We should get to bed… we can talk about this more over dinner?” Melissa suggested, tugging you a little closer by your hips “Dinner sounds wonderful… I’ll see you in the morning?” You asked as you stood, stopping when she grabbed your hand “Or you could sleep in here? If you’re comfortable with that of course” smiling when you nodded and let her tug you onto the bed next to her.

The next morning, you woke up to the spot beside you cold but the smell of breakfast being made and the sound of soft jazz playing from the kitchen, groaning, you forced yourself up and out of Melissa’s bed, making your way to the kitchen and smiling when you saw Melissa standing at the stove, humming along to the music, already dressed for work, this being the last week of school before summer break “Smells good” you smiled, heading over to her and cautiously wrapping your arms around her from behind, unsure what you could and couldn’t do with her, smiling and resting your chin on her shoulder when you felt her lean back against you, the tension releasing from your body.

“I figured you deserved something homecooked” Melissa smiled, pressing a kiss to the side of your head, enjoying this downtime with you “So, I have to work, but when I get back we can go get your stuff from your moms, get you settled here then dinner at this new restaurant that just opened up” she suggested, looking at you when you extracted yourself from her and stole a piece of bacon off the plate, to which she smacked your hand away with a laugh “That works for me, I’ll be here” you said, munching on the bacon.

After Melissa left(after many many kisses), you busied yourself with doing dishes(which was a pain to convince her to let you do) and cleaning up until Melissa got back, taking you to your mothers house who was thankfully nowhere in sight(Melissa had ripped her a new one when she saw her at school) before heading back to Melissa’s, the two of you splitting off to get ready, you wearing your nicest top you had in your suitcase and the nicest pair of pants you had, sadly you didn’t think to pack nice shoes so you were stuck in your vans, checking yourself in the bathroom mirror one last time before heading into the living room to wait for Melissa.

When she entered the room, your jaw dropped, her red curls were down and hanging over her shoulders, her black dress showing off her curves just right and her heels completing the look “Close your mouth, you’ll catch flies” she teased, pushing your chin to close your mouth “Are you sure we need to go out for dinner? I got a whole meal right here” you said, shocking yourself as she smirked “C’mon, I promised my baby dinner, you can have dessert later” she winked before leading you out, the promise being fulfilled as soon as you guys got home, you knew this summer and the next several were going to be the best summers of your life.

[givethemsmut]

Dom Mysterio x Reader

Chapter Twenty-Two | Where It All Started…

The doctors office was like being hit by a truck. There was too much information to process while still grieving.

I wasn’t exactly cleared the way we wanted when she suggested condoms in another week after scaring Dom that anything prior could hurt the healing process. In another week I would have a new babysitter and Dom on the road with a storyline only getting worse.

Dom filled me in about her wearing his jacket and him being expected to take it off her, hotel key cards, and more of her so close to him. I still didn’t understand why he would agree or why his acting was so believable. I could detect any annoyance with her on top of him.

“I hate her,” I muttered to myself while forcing my eyes out the window of the silent car. Neither of us had said a word since the doctor blamed travel and stress of Dom’s career on our loss.

Liv got the parts of Dom I wanted and I feared the line of reality if we weren’t having sex.

My first stop inside was two pills and swig of water before I went directly upstairs. All I wanted was to crawl under the covers and not have to come out.

Dom must have trailed so far behind me I didn’t notice when he finally came up stairs. “You wanna drink tonight? I’ll order food and pick up alcohol.”

“Drink or get drunk?” I asked knowing I wanted everything to numb me right now. “Let’s go out. I don’t wanna be home anymore.”

“Okay, I’ll find a spot.” Dom agreed

After a nap, an energy drink and a hot shower I put on a black dress with puffy sleeves and some volume at the hips, anything willing to hit the fact that my stomach was still slightly puffed from being pregnant.

Dom had a button down with his chain and cross, dress pants and Nikes. I bit my lip seeing him in our closet from the open bathroom door. In my heels I leaned against the bed watching him smooth everything down.

“Not making it easy to not have sex, Dom.”

“Let’s just have fun tonight. We’ll worry about that shit later. And for the record, I watched you not put on panties. You’re not making it easier either.” He kissed my head before spanking my ass as he went by me.

I wasn’t wear panties on purpose. I wanted Dom to have access to me. Pulling up to the restaurant I immediately felt my heart swell when I realized it was the same place we had so many memories. From family dinners celebrating accomplishments to Dom and I just going alone before we labeled anything.

A French restaurant full of romance and twinkly lights. It was the perfect place to reconnect the way our doctor suggested.

“Dom. It’s perfect.” I squeezed his hand on my leg before slipping out of the car without him opening the door.

“You couldn’t just let me open that? They’re watching.” He whispered as I felt his hand on my back guiding me.

“If it’s not broken, we don’t need to fix it, right? I wanna forget all the bad tonight. All the ways we hurt each other. All the things telling us we shouldn’t love each other. I wanna drink too much and make love.” I expressed as his arm pulled me in around my neck and the host asked our name.

“Mysterio,” he offered without hesitation. It wasn’t his birth name but might as well been.

Walking through the restaurant we passed everyone, heading to the back where they would normally seat us in a private book. Slipping inside I made myself comfortable and waited for Dom to join me in the middle. He hated that but did it for me.

“Some wine to start?” The wait staff asked.

It felt different like the past didn’t matter and we could finally start fresh. No hurting each other or games. Once we had a few drinks in us Dom leaned in like someone might hear. “I saw that video of you and Finn. I just need to know if it was because of RAW.”

My heart stopped and all those good feelings faded quick. “I’m sorry. I wanted to prove it wasn’t nothing, that her on top of you isn’t just part of your job. Call it insecurity or possessiveness but it’s not fun for the person who loves you.”

His hands smoothed up my legs under the hem of my dress. “I know. I saw it babe. I felt everything you felt. I don’t control the storyline if I wanted to get paid. We have to stop using people to be a wedge between us.”

“I know. It wasn’t Finn’s fault at all. Don’t be mad at him.”

Dom polished off his drink and found my eyes, burying himself inside my soul. “I don’t blame him. I can’t even turn you down. That man had no chance the second you sat on his lap. I am gonna rough him up for touching your tits tho. It’s only fair.”

Laughing into his chest I felt my whole body smile when my leg draped over his lap and his mouth found mine.

“Compliments of the gentleman at the table on the left, sir.” The waiter placed down a new ice bucket with a bottle of expensive wine and left it corked as we finished the first bottle.

Both of us shocked we looked to the table and saw Blaine holding up a glass with a smile.

“Fuck me. Is that who I think it is?” Dom whispered in my ear and I felt forced to smile back.

Blaine strutted over full of confidence the way I remembered. We had lost touch when he went to college and I never looked him up or wondered until right now. “So you did end up with your brother? Congrats.”

“You know we aren’t related, Blaine. I was a refugee his family took pity on. What are you doing here?” I asked sternly, the only way he would hear.

“Visiting family, same old shit. You look good babe.” I could feel his eyes undressing me the way he always did. Only this time it felt different knowing he had seen me naked. “Don’t be awkward, I’ve probably seen you naked just as much as him.”

“That’s why she wasn’t fucking you bro. She was already fucking me.” Dom said it so casually that it didn’t even seem insulting, just factual.

Tucking my face into Dom I laughed quietly to myself as Blaine tried to force his power where he had none anymore.

“Good luck with your fake fighting. Sweetheart, still as beautiful as ever.” He stated before walking away. Blaine, my fucking ex, of all people. It was surreal if nothing else.

We both kept quiet waiting for Blaine to be out of hear shot when Blaine pivoted on his feet. “Does she still taste like fruit-loops? I wonder how many times she came because of me two feet away from you.”

Dom stood up quickly, fists already tight and his jaw clenched. “We can take this outside. I fight for a fucking living.”

Blaine chuckled, “Still so defensive. You use to take real hits, guess you can peek in high school. Can’t blame me for fingering her at games, she was my girlfriend you were trying to low key fuck.”

Dom got out of the booth despite me holding onto him and grabbed Blaine by the shirt. Pushing him towards the door I apologized to the staff and made sure they had Dom’s card on file before I followed them to the parking lot. It wasn’t a lie, Blaine was always my brand of relief even if that meant everything but sex.

[ flashback ]

Cheering for Dom’s football games were my own personal brand of hell. Just seeing him in his uniform felt like the secret code to inside my panties.

Blaine was captain, naturally, and my boyfriend which made things only more difficult. 

“I’ll see you on the field, okay? Hike this skirt up a little. Get me motivated.” His fingers tugged on the length falling mid thigh before kissing me on the cheek. 

“Blaine,” I called his name forcing him to look back at me next to his car still when I lifted my top and showed him my boobs. I didn’t realize Dom was walking that way too until he mistakenly saw too. 

My cheeks flared up in embarrassment but I had to keep pretending to be the perfect girlfriend for everyone’s sake. Dom had a girlfriend and I had Blaine.

After the first touchdown Blaine made he rushed the sidelines, wrapping his arms around me and picking up into the air. That was before Blaine noticed how I looked at Dom entirely. Back when it was pure. 

Blaine whispered before walking backwards, “Tonight, baby. I’m getting some.”

Glancing at the stands I saw Dom’s parents hear that and cringed into myself. 

Once they called halftime I felt like I could relax a little more without the pressure of being on alert. Blaine grabbed my hand, dragging me back to his car parked outside the boy’s locker room. “We’re all doing shots.”

Blaine opened the trunk of his big SUV and fished out a bottle of Jack for everyone to pass around. After his shot he stepped into me until my ass was against the lip of his trunk. “I wanna fuck that tight pussy. When are you done making me wait, baby?” 

I blushed, hiding my face behind me in case anyone was listening. “I’m nervous. Please, I’m having fun exploring with you…” I pleaded with him.

“There’s more we can do but you gonna let me, baby. Sit here, open these beautiful legs.” I sat on the trunk and felt the nerves wash over me. I had given Dom my virginity and had been stringing Blaine along just to keep my own feelings in check for Dom. 

Blaine’s fingers found my bloomers I had to wear under my skirt for cheer. Slipping two fingers inside the hem I felt him toy with my clit until pushing them inside me. “Oh my god,” I whimpered. “Everyone can see…”

“So tight, I need this around my cock, baby. Goddamn.” Ignoring my insecurities, Blaine’s mouth found my neck. 

“Blaine. People can see. Please.” I pleaded with him more as his fingers pumped in and out of me until I felt wet enough to ride them. I couldn’t help chasing his fingers while he pulled away. 

Dom’s eyes found me, watching Blaine finger me in his trunk with his arms crossed and his face twisted in pissed off. Something about knowing Dom was watching felt like the push I needed to clutch onto Blaine and come all over his fingers while muffling my whimpers against his under armor.

It was like I was coming for Dom and not my boyfriend.

“You like knowing people can see, huh? Tonight baby, I need some. I’m dying over here.” Taking his fingers back I watched Blaine suck my come off his fingers.

Going to the front of his car to talk to his team mates Dom walked over to me. “At a football game? In public? Do you know how important this game is? I don’t need to be forced to watch Blaine finger fuck you.”

“He’s my boyfriend, Dom. Isn’t that what I’m supposed to be doing?”

“Force me to watch after what we did? He’s trying to make you come on his fucking golden fingers while I can’t stop replaying you riding my fucking dick every time I see you. Big difference, sweetheart. Don’t throw it in my fucking face because you can.” Dom took another swig. 

“What do you want me to do? I’m already making him wait out of respect for you.” I whisper-shouted back.

“What I want? I want you naked in my bed. I want to stop knowing what Blaine does or doesn’t do with you. I want to stop hearing you fucking your self. But do you know what I really want? I want you to stop fucking looking at me every time his hands on you like you can pretend it’s me touching you because if it were me I wouldn’t be stopping at some bullshit finger bang. I would be fucking you until your legs shook and you begged me to stop.” Dom’s words forced my legs to rub together and my ass to push further into the trunk like I was hiding from the truth. 

“Dom,” I called out for him before pulling on his long sleeve fitted shirt he wore under his gear. Pushing my lips to his I let myself kiss him the way I wanted when my mouth parted and I felt his tongue inside my mouth. 

Pulling away Dom stood up taller. “That’s what Blaine is for, remember? You can’t fuck me because you’re fucked up logic about having to love me too, remember?”

Dom walked away when Blaine was coming back for me. We both played it off that my necklace got caught on my hair and he was helping me but I could see whatever trust Blaine had in him was fading.

“Party at my house if we win,” he shouted to Dom who didn’t acknowledge him at all. Turning to me he whispered, “If he crosses a line let me know. He’s just pissed off he ain’t getting any.”

“He wouldn’t dare. You’re his best friend,” I smoothed it over knowing how much that would change every time I showed Blaine affection. 

Following the guys to the parking lot I really hoped this would end with verbal jabs. Dom wasn’t allowed to fight outside of lights, camera, action for liability purposes.

“You’ve always been second best. Just accept it dude. If I didn’t go play college ball she would still be mine.” They were really arguing over something that had happened in high school just to fluff their ego.

“I was fucking her before you even touched her bro. Why are you always competing with me? She’s mine now, no one cares.” Dom argued back.

Blaine looked at me, around Dom between us, “You didn’t tell him? Tell him the truth about us baby. It all wasn’t some fucking game you two had going.”

Dom looked over his shoulder and I didn’t know how to figure out what Blaine thought I was lying about when I shrugged. Sheer panic washing over me as I tugged on Dom’s arm.

“I asked her to marry me and she said yes the summer before I left for college.”

“Blaine. You can’t be serious, that was forever ago, you can’t play the I’m still yours card.” I argued when he smirked to himself.

“He deserves all the facts before he asks you himself. I can practically smell the ring on him, sweetheart.” I looked at Dom, questioning how Blaine would know that at all. “He still think we didn’t fuck either?”

“Blaine. Shut the fuck up.”

Standing back Blaine put up his hands, “Once you had Marie her legs pretty much fell open. Thanks for that, bro.”

Dom took one big step forward and punched my ex in the face before demanding I get in the car. I had never seen him so angry when he kept hitting Blaine. So much it scared me.

Rushing to his side I stopped him and we both hustled to the car before leaving. Suddenly his bad boy persona complete with an arrest didn’t seem so much a character but a part of Dom I never experienced for myself.

[boldlyvoid]

I Know Places: Living Children

18+ Aaron Hotchner x Fem Reader | Masterlist | AO3 link

Summary: After coming home from Canada, they head to their separate apartments for a night of rest before their next case… only that case comes 4 hours later and Aaron isn't answering his phone.

Warnings: Canon Typical Violence (murder, stabbing, assault, mentions of death) Anxiety, panicking, blood tw, Haley and Reader interacting, Reid gets shot, the whole team is in a panic.

Word count: 10.8k

She dropped him off at his apartment late that night, he asked her to come up but she said no. For the first time in months, she said no. She wanted to actually get some sleep after everything they went through these last few weeks. She knew if she went to his house, or if he came to hers, they would end up talking or fucking all night and her body needed rest… real rest, even though she didn’t quite know what it was like to sleep without him anymore. 

She was asleep maybe 5 hours when JJ called and said they had an emergency case pop up. 

She gets to the scene first, JJ not far behind her being dropped off by Will. She watches as JJ kisses her boyfriend and looks back at their sleeping baby in the backseat before she joins her on the curb. They’re on the scene for almost 15 minutes before Morgan and Reid roll up, tired, a couple coffees in hand, begrudgingly starting what should’ve been their day off together.

“Where’s the big man?” Derek asks. 

Y/N shrugs, “he should be here soon.” 

“Have you not talked to him?” JJ asks. “I couldn’t get ahold of him at all?” 

“No? That’s weird,” she doesn’t like the anxiety that immediately pools in her stomach. “He tosses his phone and things onto the couch once he gets inside and leaves them there till the morning, he’ll get the massages and be here soon. I’m sure,” she says more for herself than the others. Knowing no one had heard from him yet made her a little anxious but what else could she do? 

“I’m surprised you didn’t go home with him,” Derek teases her, bumping his elbow off hers. 

“Unlike you and the good doctor, I actually wanted to sleep last night,” she teases him. 

“3 hours is still something,” Spencer teases, a rosy pink blush spreading across his cheeks. 

“Alright kids,” Rossi announces his presence behind them. “What’s going on here? Why were we called to a crime scene if we’re not working a case?” 

“I got a call from Detective Walker, you guys remember him?” JJ explains. “He’s inside, apartment 3C, he says it’s urgent.” 

“It better be,” Derek scoffs. 

The case is strange… Detective Walker, a DC cop they knew from a few other local cases called JJ when he received word of an interesting killer. Someone sent a doctor, Tom Barton, a letter saying he was planning to kill his son. Every day that his son stayed inside, out of harm's way or with protection, another person would be shot and killed in retaliation. 2 victims so far have died, and the letter is signed “L.C.” and even written in chalk beside victim number 2’s body. 

There isn’t much for them to look at while at the crime scene, the man simply opened his door and was shot in the chest, falling back into his apartment. The police were called when neighbours heard gunshots, no one saw the man leave and the apartment complex doesn’t have security footage. So, they all head over to the doctor's house to ask him questions, find out who has a grudge or vendetta against him, and go from there. 

JJ calls Hotch again on their drive over, Y/N’s driving her to the doctor's house, but Aaron doesn’t pick up. It’s weird, but, he also really just wanted to sleep last night. 

“Why didn’t you go home with him?” JJ asks, “The real answer this time.” 

She laughs, “I was being serious, I was tired. We both were. But when we’re together at night we don’t really sleep, no matter how tired we are.” 

“I want to say ew, but I’m glad you’re both happy,” she teases. 

“It’s not always sex, sometimes we just talk all night,” she assures her. “And when we go to his place we drink. You get a couple glasses of whisky in him and he doesn’t know how to shut up.” 

“Will’s like that too, he has such a high tolerance from growing up in New Orleans but he doesn’t drink that much anymore. Ever since we had Henry and I went back to work, he’s always scared that if he has even a few sips he’ll get a call that I was hurt or Henry will need to go to the hospital in the middle of the night and so he doesn’t risk it,” she explains. It sounds like she’s been dying to talk about this with someone. 

“You’ve found yourself one good man there, Jayj,” she gives her a quick smile. “We both have.” 

—

She doesn’t have her full attention on the case. She listens to the doctor explain what he received and why he doesn’t understand how he could be a target, but she doesn’t fully care. Yes, she wants people to stop dying and yes she wants to keep this man's family safe… but her own family is on her mind right now. 

No one has heard from Aaron, he’s not answering his phone, he’s not at work, Anderson hasn’t seen him at the office… it’s starting to really scare her. 

The team disburses after they realize that Dr. Barton's son has left the house, he’s gone to school in an attempt to save lives like his father does for a living. He’s a good kid. Derek, JJ and Dave head over to the school to make sure he’s okay and keep him safe until the final bell of the day. She and Reid stay with the doctor to look through his case files for Hispanic males or people with the initials L.C, seeing as Reid can read a million words a minute. More like 20,000 but, still, faster than anyone else. 

After about 30 files, she reaches her breaking point. So does Dr. Barton. “Jeffery is leaving school in 5 hours, there’s no way we can get through all these patients in this time.” 

“Well, we’ve narrowed it down already,” she tries to sympathize with him. It is a lot. 

“And we still have 100 left!” He shouts. “I’m sorry, I-I-I don't mean to be callous but when you work in the ER you don’t remember names. You operate and you move on.” 

“He’s right,” she gives in. “There are too many files here for us to profile in such a short period of time. Um,” she stands up, getting ready to leave. “I can get to Hotch’s apartment and get back here in half an hour?” 

“Who’s that?” He asks. 

“He's our supervisor,” Spencer explains. “We weren’t supposed to work today we’re having trouble getting ahold of him.” 

“But we need more eyes,” Y/N says, hoping it bribes Dr. Barton to let her go.

He nods, and so she leaves. 

Driving like a bat out of hell, she somehow manages to hit every red light on her way downtown and there’s construction 2 blocks before Aarons street. Her heart is in her stomach, she’s so sure she’s going to be met with something bad that she’s afraid to breathe. She arrives at 715 Langham in just 10 minutes and parks her SUV just in front of the building. Aaron's SUV is in the parking lot around the side, so she knows he’s here. That eases her anxiety just a bit. 

She hops out, locks the car and rushes inside. He lives on the first floor, at the back, apartment 121. She knocks as soon as she gets there. “Hotch? It’s me, Y/N… Aaron? Aaron, are you in there?” 

When she doesn’t get an answer she pulls out her cell phone and calls his number again.. it starts to ring and she can hear it going off inside his apartment. Probably on the couch like she assumed. But her heart still stops beating in her chest for a moment. She reaches for the doorknob next, going to jiggle it but it opens right up. He doesn’t lock it right away when he gets home, it’s often her who locks it when they get in at night… but still, he’d lock it before going to bed. That’s his routine. 

She unholsters her gun, holds it up and slams the door open. She looks both ways, clearing the room with her eyes, she notices his keys on the entryway table his phone and briefcase tossed on the couch. She slowly starts to enter, observing the room slowly… she notices there’s a bullet hole in the wall. No blood splatter or brain matter surrounding it. But that’s definitely a bullet hole. 

Aaron's gun is on the kitchen table and on the floor beside the table there is a human torso-sized puddle of blood on the white carpet. Under the wall with the bullet hole, opposite of the bloody carpet, there is linoleum leading into the kitchen, and it's covered in glass. She prepares herself to enter the kitchen, she turns into it with her gun ready to shoot anyone who’s there but the place is empty. Unlocked, bloody, and empty. 

Aarons gone. 

He was attacked. Someone was standing in his kitchen, unbeknownst to him, when he came in. He tossed his things on the couch, unclipped his gun placed it on the table and went to make a drink when the attacker made themself known. He dropped his glass when he was started, they went to shoot him and missed and then got him on the ground. She looks for the bullet casings, but there aren’t any to be found. Either they were both taken or he wasn’t shot on the ground. There’s too much blood for it to be a single bullet wound… too spread out. He was hit multiple times across his chest. But it doesn’t look like enough blood to kill someone. 

As soon as she’s able to breathe again, she gathers herself back together and calls Penelope. 

“Overtime shift-Penelope speaking,” she answers, breath heavy like she just ran into he room. 

“Garcia this is Y/N, I need you to listen carefully,” she leads. “Somethings happened to Hotch.” 

“What do you mean something happened?” She asks, immediately panicking. 

“I don’t know. I’m in his apartment, he’s not here but there’s blood.” 

“Oh my god.” 

“I need you to send police and FBI techs here right away, everyone available,” Y/N orders, she needs to start building a profile and she needs crime scene to be here in order to do that.

“Uh, d-do we need an APB?” She asks, already typing. 

“Only on hotch, I checked out front, his car’s still here,” she explains. 

“Someone took him?” 

“I don’t know,” she wants to scream but she can’t. “There’s blood but I can’t be sure who’s it is. Just get people here.”

“Okay I’m sending an army—

“Garcia, I’m gonna have to tell reid because he’s expecting me back but you can’t tell the others. They cannot be distracted,” she reminds her. 

“Okay,” Penny understands. “Okay.” 

And just like that, she hangs up. And now she’s all alone in Aaron’s apartment, the place he hated to be more than anywhere… she never went home with him. She never invited him up to her place. And now he’s hurt. He’s bleeding and somewhere without her and she’s so scared this is all her fault. 

But instead of freaking out, she calls Spencer. 

“Hey,” he answers. 

“Something happened to Aaron,” she says. 

“What?” 

“he’s not here but there’s about a pint of blood on his carpet. Something happened. I don’t know what happened or who did it or if he’s alive—” 

“What are you talking about, Y/N?” 

“Someone came into his apartment and hurt him and then took him. All his stuff is here.” 

She heats Dr. Barton asking if this is about Jeffery and Spencer saying it’s not, shushing him and then holding his hand over the phone. “I’m really sorry I have to take this call, okay?” 

“What could be more important than my son right now?!” The man screams. 

“I assure you this will take one second!” Spencer argues back. “Please, I promise.” 

“Spence?” 

“I’m here, what do you know?” 

“There’s a huge hole in the wall. Probably a .44? But there’s no blood or tissue spray around it.” 

“Any idea how he got out?” 

“If he was shot there are no drag marks, but a body could’ve been wrapped in something,” she explains, cringing at the words. She hates this so much. 

“And bureau techs are on the way?” 

“Any second now,” she assures him. Trying to keep herself calm and okay.

“Alright, um, write down everything you see and we’ll profile form your notes when you get back,” Spencer says, knowing she needs order to keep sane. “It’ll be okay. We’ll find him.” 

“Okay… thank you. How’s Dr. Barton?” 

“It’s a huge list of cases to go through,” Spencer reminds her, so clearly, the man is stressing. 

“Okay, don’t worry about here. I’ve got this. Stay focused, try and find a way to narrow them down further… I know you can do it.” 

“Thanks, call me if you need me?”

“I will.” 

—

The door is already open when the cops and crime scene techs start coming in. She’s pulled out of the room and told she can go back in once the techs have what they need. She can’t fuck with the crime scene and she knows that. So she stays back, she watches the men in white jump-suits and gloves start taking samples and pictures and a cop comes up to start asking her questions. 

“And who are you to the victim?” 

“Co-worker and girlfriend,” she admits, wanting to be as honest as possible. She shows him her badge and everything.

“Okay, and when did you last talk to him?” 

“Last night at 2:30ish, I drove home after our flight got in. I dropped him off at his apartment and then went home,” she explains. “We tried calling him all morning to tell him a new case has come in but he wasn’t answering the phone so I came here to get him myself. His door was unlocked and his phone was ringing in the living room.” 

“Does he have any enemies that would do this to him?” 

She laughs, “he’s the supervisory special agent in charge of the behavioural analysis unit and before that, he was an attorney on criminal cases. The list of people who want him dead is a long one.” 

“Okay,” the man's eyes widen and he breathes in deeply through his nose as he writes it all down in his little book. “So, your teams on this then too, I guess?” 

She shakes her head, “They’re busy, we can’t get them distracted. It’s just me and you guys right now… and our tech girl, she’s calling hospitals to see if Aaron or any John Doe’s were brought in. Have you seen his wallet in there at all?” 

“I’m not sure… hey, Gomez?” He calls into the apartment, “found a wallet?” 

“Not yet,” he calls back. 

“So that’s really all we know right now—

Her phone starts to ring and so she pulls away from the conversation. “Talk to me, Garcia?” 

“Okay I-I called hospitals to see if Hotch had gotten himself admitted into an emergency room—

“And?” She’s so impatient it comes off mean. 

“He’s not listed as a patient but someone dropped a John Doe off at St. Sebastian Hospital and that someones name was FBI Agent Derek Morgan,” she explains, confused and slightly pissed off. 

“That doesn’t make sense?” She says, shaking her head, racking her brain for a reason that could make sense… 

“I know, do you think they got their credentials mixed up?”

Just then it dawns on her and her stomach drops even further. Her eyes start to blur and the world stops as she figures it out. “The Reaper.” 

“What?” 

“Foyet stole Morgans Creds…” 

“Why would he drop him off at the ER?” Penelope asks. 

“What hospital did you say, again?” 

“St. Sebastian Hopsital—

“I’ll call you with an update when I get there,” she says, hanging up she starts to run out of the room but the detective stops her. 

“Hey!” 

“He’s alive, he’s at St. Sebastian Hospital the man who did this is George Foyet also known as the Boston Reaper. We arrested him a few months back but he escaped prison and we’ve been on the hunt for him ever since, he did this,” she explains in a hurry. 

“Okay, go, go see him! I've got this here,” he lets her go. 

She runs down the hallways, out the front doors and to her car. She flicks her lights on once she’s inside and she speeds to the hospital, bypassing every car, she gets there right away at every red light and stop sign, she’s doing almost 120 the whole way there. 

She throws the car into the first parking spot she can find and runs towards the ER doors, getting deja vu from the last time she rushed to his bedside at a hospital in New York, she loves him a million times more now. It’s the same yet so, so different. With her chest heaving, she feels like she might pass out as she grips onto the counter of the front desk. 

“Hi, hi, sorry,” she needs a second, so she pulls out her badge, “an agent… brought in a man— sorry,” she holds her free hand to her heart and stands up straighter as she breathes. “An agent brought in a man last night, said his name was Derek Morgan?”

“Yes, he did, the man he brought in is in the intensive care unit right now,” she explains. “Do you know who he is?” 

She nods, “His name is Aaron Hotchner, he’s also an FBI agent. The man who brought him in is not. Agent Morgan had his credentials stolen by a criminal, I have reason to believe the man who brought him in is said criminal.” 

“Oh, oh dear,” the woman can’t believe it. “We can take you up to him?” 

“Yes please, and can you have someone send the security footage of the man bringing him here to my analyst at Quantico?” She asks. 

“I certainly can,” the woman agrees. She stands from her seat and walks around the desk to her, she places her hand on Y/N’s back. “Come with me.” 

They follow the blue line on the floor towards the elevators and inside she presses floor 3. They get off at the intensive care unit and the nurse gets the attention of another doctor. “The John Doe, she knows him.” 

“Hi,” she reaches out to shake the doctor's hand. “How is he?” 

“Stable, follow me,” she takes over for the nurse. She leads Y/N over to one of the rooms, she slides open the glass doors and lets her inside. 

She rushes to his side and rests her hands on his bedrails. “Can I touch his hands?” 

“Sure,” the doctor doesn’t mind. 

She grabs hold of his hand and her heart starts to beat regularly again. She can see straight. Her legs aren’t numb anymore. She’s better now that she knows he’s alive. “What happened?” 

“He was stabbed 9 times in the chest but no major arteries were hit,” she explains. “It’s a miracle he’s alive.” 

“When will he wake up?” 

“The anesthesia should wear off within the hour but he’s bout to be out of it,” she says with a sigh. “Can we get you to fill out some paperwork for us?” 

She nods, “yeah… do you have his stuff?” 

“It’s right there,” she points at the bag with his bloody shirt sitting right at the top. It’s all cut up and gross but they kept it. 

“let me just grab his wallet and I can do everything for you.” She lets go of his hand, she places it back on the bed and taps it gently, giving him a small smile. 

She gets his wallet from the bag, she follows the doctor out of the room and she’s handed a clipboard with papers on it. She fills it out with everything she knows about him. His name, first middle and last. She always thought it was funny that he was born in the 60s, the same year that Star Trek was airing and his parents never watched it but still gave him the middle name Tiberius. All good captains have that middle name. 

She knows his birthday and his blood type and that he’d want to be an organ donor if the time came. She has his insurance information cause it’s in his wallet and lists that he has a 4 year old son as well as a brother named Sean. But his emergency contact is still Haley no matter how long they’ve been together. And she’s okay with that. She’s going to have to call her. After their chat in Oregon, she got Haley’s number and put it in her phone so as soon as she finished the paperwork, she stepped out to call her. 

“Hello?” 

“Hi, is this Haley Brooks?” 

“It is…” 

“hi this is Y/N I work with Aaron,” she leads and she can hear the way Haley’s breathing changes. 

“What happened.” 

“He’s in the hospital, he was stabbed a few times last night,” she explains, wanting to cry. “He wanted me to call you if anything ever happened to him.” 

She lets out a shaky breath, “Okay… but he’s okay?” 

“Yeah, he will be. He isn’t awake yet and I know Jack's at school so when he does wake up, maybe you guys can stop by?” 

“Yeah, we definitely can… he has a playdate tonight after school though so I’m not sure what time we can come?” 

“That’s okay, I’ll talk to him when he wakes up and see if he even wants Jack to see him in this condition, if not, he’ll probably still be here tomorrow.” 

“Okay… and thank you, Y/N, for letting me know.” 

“Of course,” she doesn’t mind. “I can text you with updates?”

“I’d like that, thank you.” 

“Anytime,” she says with a smile and then they both hang up. 

She heads back over to Aaron's room to see a nurse switching out his chart with his accurate information on it. She gets a peak over the woman’s shoulder and sees the L.C. written on it. 

“Excuse me,” she says in her most polite voice. “What does that stand for?” 

“Living Children,” she explains. “It's so if a patient has to go on life support and they don’t have a DNR order, we know who to contact to make such a decision. Seeing as he doesn’t have a wife currently and you’re not his medical decision maker or power of attorney, that question goes to his next of kin.” 

“Thanks,” she nods, taking her phone back out she heads out to make yet another phone call.  

Once she relays the message to him, he goes quiet, “Reid?” 

“What if the unsub was trying to tell Dr. Barton that He is actually the target?” Spencer asks. “And that he’s going to leave his son without a father?” 

She goes to answer but then Spencer starts to panic, “Barton!” He calls out after him. 

“Reid?” She calls out, wondering what’s going on. There’s the sound of him running and then a gunshot. “Reid, Answer me! Spencer!!” 

There’s no response. So she hangs up and dials 911. “This is Special Agent Y/N Y/L/N from the FBI. I need police and an ambulance at 120 Kensington Road, McLean Virginia. Shots fired. Federal agent possibly down,” she calls down the line as soon as they pick up. 

“Yes ma’am, I have police and medical on their way now, do you have a description of the suspect?” 

“No, I was on the phone with my partner when I heard the shot and he wasn’t responding, he’s there with Doctor Thomas Barton working on a case, the man was being stalked and his life was being threatened, it seems the man found him.” 

“Okay, thank you, we’ve got it from here.” 

“Thanks,” she hangs up and finds the first seat she sees. 

She has to sit down. Today has been too much. Aaron was stabbed, Spencer possibly shot, they’re all working on 4 hours of sleep and it’s all catching up to her now. She starts to cry, her head in her hands, she lets herself have a couple minutes to panic before she goes back to being a professional. 

—

When the team arrives, it’s just JJ and Dave that come up to the ICU. Spencer and Derek are at another hospital, he was shot in the leg, the bullet went in and right back out, hitting bone and fracturing it. He’s going to need surgery and a cast as he’ll be on crutches for a few months. 

“How is he?” Dave asks. 

“He’s still not conscious.” 

“Are you sure it was Foyet?” He asks, still processing the news. 

She nods. “He had Morgans creds.” 

“Did they catch him on the security cameras?” JJ asks. 

“You could see him drop Aaron off but the cameras only on the entrance so I have no idea what direction he went once he left the hospital,” she explains. 

“It doesn’t make sense to have brought Hotch to the ER?” JJ can’t fathom it either. 

“We know Foyet gets off on power and control, maybe what he wants is for Hotch to know his life was in his hands?” Dave suggests. 

“He could do that without risking the hospital?” Y/N combats. 

“Agents,” the doctor calls them over, “he’s waking up.” They all rush to his side, “Now, remember, he’s weak. Don’t push him.” 

She gets the closest to him, holding his hand, she leans in and brushes his hair back, “Hey, there.” 

“Where am I?” He asks, voice weak and throat dry from having a tube down it earlier. 

“The hospital,” Dave answers, on the other side of the bed. 

“How’d I get here?” 

“Foyet drove you,” Y/N says, worried he doesn’t remember the attack. “Do you remember what happened?”

He doesn’t answer, his eyes stay closed and he swallows a few times, thinking back to last night. “What did he take?” 

“What?” 

“The reaper always takes one thing from his victims. Do we know what he took?” 

“Uh,” Y/N thinks back. “There was a page missing from your day planner, the techs said it had been ripped out. The B’s page.” 

“What did he leave?” He asks, trying to piece it all together on his own as if he didn’t just almost die. 

“I don’t know, honey,” she says, feeling bad she doesn’t have more answers for him. 

“He also leaves something with his victims,” Aaron rewords his request. He needs to know. 

“I looked over your whole apartment with the techs, we couldn’t find anything out of the ordinary,” she says. As if the blood stain and the shattered glass were ordinary. 

“Where are my clothes?” 

“over there, but I have your wallet?” She takes it out of her pocket. 

“my pants,” he tries to turn to look at the bag but he’s too weak. 

“I’ve got it,” JJ says, pulling the bag off the table she places it on the foot of his bed and takes his pants out. “What pocket?” 

“Any. Look for something,” he orders, trying to sit up. 

JJ pulls out a picture of Jack and Haley and hands it to him. He tosses his head back and huffs. “Haley’s maiden name is Brooks.” 

JJ and Dave look at each other knowingly. 

“I always listed her in the B’s in my personal information in case it fell into the wrong hands,” he explains. “He knows where they live.” 

“Jacks at a playdate,” Y/N explains. “I called her, I told her what was going on, and she was fine. That was an hour ago, maybe 90 minutes at most.” 

“Go,” Aaron waves them off. “Go make sure they’re okay.” 

“I’ll make the phone calls,” Y/N assures them, “go!” 

And so she’s back on the phone, she calls Garcia to get SWAT to Aaron's old address and then she calls Strauss. This is bigger than them now. They needed the Marshalls. Haley and Jack needed to stay safe until Foyet was either dead or behind bars. And she really wanted him dead for this. 

She hangs up just as Aaron's machines start to beep out of control and she’s told to leave as the doctors assess him. He almost passes out, they get him back on a steady rhythm and check his breathing and his brain activity. He’s okay, but she gets reprimanded for pushing him too hard. He’s been through too much today. He can’t take much more. 

He’s okay, they give him some pain meds and he asks to be able to sit up straight again. She gets a call from JJ, they have Haley and she’s okay. Daves going to pick up Jack from his friend's place and they’re packing their bags to go into witness protection as soon as possible. “I’m going to get a SWAT Team to come here too, there’s no telling what Foyet is capable of and if he’s still here, waiting for us to bring Haley to him, I want to be one step ahead of him.” 

“Okay,” JJ agrees. “You tell the hospital they should go on lockdown, I’ll call Garcia to get the team to head over there.” 

“Thanks,” she says taking a deep breath. “I don’t know how many more phone calls I can make today before I go insane.” 

“Just stay with Hotch, we’ll do the rest.” 

“Thanks again, Jayj,” she smiles to herself before hanging up. 

She pops back into Aaron's room and gives him a smile too, “they’re safe. They’re packing their bags.” 

“Okay,” he nods, relieved but too high on whatever they gave him to show emotion. 

She heads out again, pulls the head doctor over and tells her what’s happening. The hospital is put on a code green: emergency activation. They’re placed on bypass for the time being and if she remembers correctly from New York that means no one new can enter the hospital, and everyone who leaves from every exit is monitored by a police officer. Security roams the halls with 2 SWAT team members, they clear every single room from the basement to the roof, and Foyet is nowhere to be seen. 

Once she knows that she simply pulls the chair over to Aaron’s bedside and sits down beside him, she holds his hand and she doesn’t say anything else. 

“You were at my place?” He asks. 

She nods, “mhm. I went to get you. We had a case.” 

“Oh,” he didn’t even think to ask. “Could you tell how he got in?” 

She shakes her head, “No, sorry, we’re still not sure of that.” 

“Okay.” 

“Do you want to talk about what happened?” She asks, not wanting to push, but she wants him to remember she’s his sounding board, she’s there for whatever he needs.

Forever. 

He suddenly can’t meet her eye. He looks down and away, shaking his head lightly. She can tell by the look on his face that he’s lying but she’ll let him tell her the truth when he’s ready. 

“I don’t know.” 

She just nods. Supporting him even though she knows there’s more. 

Still avoiding her eye, he speaks again. “After he stabbed me the first time it all goes blank.” 

Just then, Haley walks up to his room and she looks upset. Rightfully so. Y/N lets them have the room, she pats Haley’s shoulder on the way out with a smile and she feels awkward for doing it but she did it. She watches them talk from the front desk, JJ brings over Jack and asks her to watch him for a moment. 

“Hey buddy,” she says, getting down on his level, he gives her a hug. She picks him up, setting him down on top of the counter, “You’re getting so big, are you sure you aren’t part Hulk?” 

That makes him laugh and starts talking about other superheroes while she glances back at Aaron. She knows by the look on his face that Haley’s not happy with him. Of course, she isn’t, but still… you’d think she’d be a little concerned for him after being stabbed that many times. 

She comes out a few moments later and helps Jack down from the counter and onto Aaron’s hospital bed before retreating back out of the room. She can just watch from afar, they deserved at least a minute to say goodbye to each other in peace. 

She looks at Y/N, looks her up and down and then cocks her head to the side. “You’re his girlfriend, aren’t you?” 

“Not here. Not now,” she puts her foot down. She’s not playing these little games. “You are the last person to have a say in what he does with his free time.” 

“Wow,” Haley scoffs. “I’m getting kicked out of my house and sent halfway across the country because some serial killer is after me and I’m still the bad guy?” 

She steps closer to Haley, just a little bit taller than her, she looks down at her. “If you died he would never be the same. I have spent the last year picking up his pieces over and over again and I don’t think he’ll be able to be put back together if you or Jack die. So yeah. Suck it up, hide for a bit, and let us catch him so you can go back to living in his house with half of his money and most of his heart.” 

“You love him?” Haley whispers. She stared back and forth between her lips and her eyes, reading everything in Y/N’s expression. “Like really, love him.” 

She nods, fighting the urge to cry. “And I’m going to have to live with the fact that he also loves you for the rest of my life. So please, do me a favour and live.” 

“I will,” Haley promises. “We both will.” 

“And I know you’re not supposed to call anyone or have contact with anyone because Foyet can track you down… but you need to know this guy is a master manipulator. He stole Derek's credentials back in Boston just so he could attack Aaron today and bring him here as a federal agent,” she explains. “He stabbed himself in the same places he stabbed Aaron and pretended to be the only living victim of The Reaper for like 10 years… knowing his previous behaviour, he’s going to try and draw you out by pretending someone in your family has died, even pretending to kill your appointed Marshall to get you to come to him. So if you get a call or someone shows up at your door and they say Aaron, or your sister or anyone has died, don’t go with them. Don’t go to where they want to meet up. Don’t believe anything unless it comes from the Marshall we assigned you today or someone from our team. If you second guess anything, you call me or Penelope, or hell, if you’re close enough, drive right to Quantico and come up to the 6th floor and you find one of us. Buy a gun. Buy a couple, even. Keep one in the kitchen, one in your room and one in your purse. Be prepared to fight. I need you to come home to him.” 

She nods along to everything Y/N says, following everything with a worried look on her face. “I can do that… Aaron taught me how to shoot. I can protect myself. I can protect us.” 

“Good,” Y/N gives her a little smile. “I hope that when this is all over... when you come home, we can talk? Like really talk. I hope that whatever me and Aaron have lasts and we can all get along… I want his family to stay together, I don’t want to have to pick up his pieces again. But I will. I need you to know that. If anything happens, I’ve got him. But I’d like to have him while he still has you, too.” 

“That would be nice,” Haley agrees. 

“Now, the hospital is on lockdown and we have agents scanning the building and parking lot for Foyet in case he stuck around to watch you leave here,” she keeps going with information. “I had JJ run to the store to pick up some hair dye so we’re going to turn you into a brunette to keep you hidden and I’ve asked for 5 identical cars with blacked-out windows to come into the ambulance bay to pick you guys up and all head in different directions so he can’t follow everyone. We’re getting you out of here without a single hitch. Even if I have to do it all myself.” 

“Thank you,” Haley whispers, trying not to cry now that it’s hitting her how real this is. 

“Don’t thank me until you’re home, safe, and all this is over,” she says, placing her hand on Haley's shoulder. “Come on, let’s go get Jack and I’ll take you to the room where we’re going to do your hair.” 

“What shade of brown?” She asks, not excited. 

“It’s more of a red-toned brown… Penelope actually went to hairdressing school for a couple months before she got recruited so she’s going to be doing it,” Y/N explains. 

They walk into the room together, smiling, and Aaron looks like he’s shocked to see them happy together. “You ready to go, Jack?” Haley asks. 

He nods, “can I have another hug?” He asks his dad.

“Of course, buddy,” Aaron takes him in as gently as he can. “I love you so much, you remember that while you’re on vacation with mommy, okay?” 

“Okay.” 

JJ shows up in the doorway behind them then, too. “Penelope’s all set up and ready.”

“You know,” Haley looks at Y/N. “Why don’t you guys keep Jack here while I get my hair done? He’s going to be bored in the room with us anyway… if Aaron needs some rest, I trust you with him. You can watch him?” 

“Yeah, okay,” Y/N doesn’t mind at all. “We’ll come and find you if Aaron needs to rest at all.” 

“Okay,” she gives them all one last smile and then heads out with JJ. 

“I think this TV gets some kid's channels,” Y/N says, pointing up at the old TV that’s screwed into the wall at the top right corner of the room. She takes the remote off the wall where it’s been velcroed to stay safe and turns it on. “What kind of shows do you like, Jackers?” 

“Teenage mutant ninja turtles,” he says with a smile. 

“Well then, let’s see if they’ve got it.” 

—

Derek shows up at St. Sebastian an hour later. Spencer has gone into surgery which should take 2 or more hours so Derek felt like he could leave his side for a while. Dave stays at Aaron’s bedside, keeping him company while Y/N, Derek and JJ bring Haley and Jack down to the ambulance bay. It’s underground, dark and completely empty. The security footage has been turned off down there, so if there is a hack Foyet won’t know what car they’re in. 

They get into the 4th of the 5 cars. Typically, someone important would take the 3rd, the one in the middle, in case of an ambush. Everyone knows this. The president does this. Michael Jackson does this, hell even the fucking pope stays in the middle. Foyet doesn’t have the manpower to orchestrate an ambush. Even so, they put them in the 4th one to be on the safer side. 

The plan is that they’ll all leave the same way and then break off in 5 directions. Again, Foyet doesn’t have the manpower behind him to track down each car. If he were to follow one, chances are it wouldn’t be Haleys and if he does somehow pick car number 4, they would clue into the fact someone is following them well before they make it to their destination. Where that is? They don’t know. That’s the whole point of witness protection. 

There will be unmarked police cars travelling along the same route that Haley and Jack are going, meaning the police are simply 1 call away if someone is following them. In that case, the police will intervene, either pulling him over or… causing an accident. Either way, they’ll get Foyet off their tail in time for them to get off the road and head to a new safe house. 

Her name has already changed, they don’t know what it is. She’ll find out once she’s in the car with her US Marshal. She’ll get new IDs and a backstory she has to learn. Jack will have to be called something else but it will be similar enough that it’s not weird for him to be called something new and it won’t stick if this goes on a while. The last thing they want to do is give this 4 year old an identity crisis. 

She explains most of it to Haley on the ride down to the ambulance bay where JJ and Derek are waiting with the other SWAT members. “You ready?” She asks one final time. 

Haley nods. “Keep him safe for us?” 

“Absolutely. And you remember what I said?”

“He’s a master manipulator, don’t listen to anything unless it comes from my Marshal or you guys, buy a couple guns and come back to Quantico if I don’t feel safe with the information given to me,” she recounts it all back to her. 

“You’re gonna do great,” she assures her, pulling Haley in for a hug, they embrace each other for a moment and then pull away with similar press-lipped smiles. It was awkward but they were going to get through it no matter what. 

“See ya, Jack,” she reaches out her hand to give him a high five. “Have fun on your vacation.” 

“Bye!” He waves, giddy and excited to leave. He has no idea what’s going on and she’s so glad. 

Once Jack is safely buckled into his booster seat and Haley sits down beside him, they close the door and each car starts to pull out of the ambulance bay. They wave, unable to see past the tinted windows but just in case Jack is waving to them… and then they’re gone. 

She lets out a shaky breath and her calm, cool and collected demeanour disappears. She turns to Derek and almost falls into his arms, crying. He rubs her back, “Hey, hey it’s okay. We’re going to get this guy. It’s all good.” 

“Today was so hard,” she cries. “I couldn’t find him and then we realized it was Foyet and then I heard Spencer get shot I had to call 911 and I-I-I... I didn’t know what to do.” 

“Shh, it’s okay,” he assures her. “Spencer is okay. Aaron is okay. Our team is strong. You’re so incredibly strong. You kept your cool through all of this, you could’ve gotten cold and mean and instead you made sure Haley and Jack were okay and you waited to do this. I wouldn’t have been able to do all this if some psycho was after my man.” 

She manages to laugh at that, it’s absurd. Fucking insane, actually. She pulls away and wipes her tears, “I’m also so fucking tired.” 

“I hear you!” Derek agrees, “I feel like I could sleep for 3 days straight if you let me.”

She wraps her arm around him and they all start to head over to the elevator, JJ being quiet the whole time because she doesn’t know what to really say. “we’ve had a hard week, I think we should all take a few vacation days… maybe I can talk to Strauss and agree we only come in if there’s a terrorist attack to amber alert?” 

“Yes please,” she would love that. “Although, I’m going to ask Strauss for more than just a few days off. I want to take all my vacation days either until I run out or until Aaron can come back.” 

“I still find it so weird that you can call him Aaron,” JJ teases. 

She shrugs, “rolls off the tongue pretty easy if you ask me.” 

“Ew,” she says it proudly this time. “Ew! You both are so gross. I’m so glad we don’t work with Will all the time.” 

“No but we still know you two are freaky,” Derek teases her. “I mean… you have a kid.”

“whats that supposed to mean?” She asks, slightly offended. 

“you let him hit it raw,” Derek teases. “Ya nasty.” 

JJ smacks him. “You’re a pain in my ass, you know that? You have a stupid response to literally everything!” 

Derek simply wraps her up in a hug, “what are brothers for?” 

“I wouldn’t know, I had a sister,” she says begrudgingly, but she hugs him back none the less. 

— 

She’s with Aaron all night. She sits beside him and holds his hand and she wipes his tears when things get too intense for him. It breaks her heart. She knows he’s going to be traumatized by this, he’s not going to want to talk about it and the trauma is going to fester and spread and it might affect his work. It’s going to be a long road, she’s prepared for it but she just doesn’t know how to broach these topics. 

She’s not going to ask now, right now is about his healing. The nurses have made it clear that any stress could cause him to tense up and move too fast and pull a stitch or start bleeding internally. He’s very delicate right now. She hasn’t seen what it looks like under his bandages, she won’t for a while, but before they leave the hospital she’s going to be shown how to help him clean and redress them so she can care for him at home. 

He gets more medicine, it helps him sleep and sleep helps him heal, so she just sits there beside him and the nurses say they can bring up a cot for her if she wants it, but she’s good just sitting beside him. She rests her head on his bed, still holding his hand, she’s so close to falling asleep when someone rubs her shoulder. She turns around, thinking it's a nurse and she looks up with blurry, tired vision to see Section Chief Strauss. 

“Oh, hi?” 

“Can you step away for a minute?” She asks. 

Y/N nods, rubs her eyes and stands up to follow her out of the room. They head a little down the hallway, away from the nurses but still in view of Aaron's ICU room. 

“How is he?” She asks. 

“He’s okay, he has 9 stab wounds around 2 inches deep, Foyet missed his major arteries and organs on purpose… he’s going to need a while to heal and I’d like you to request he has mandatory therapy for a few months to process what happened,” she asks, all but begging. “If you intervene he has to, if I ask then I’m just a worrier and he won’t do it.” 

“what are you?” 

“We haven’t filled the paperwork and we know that goes against the rules but we didn’t want to be separated during all this. We’ve been dating a little over 2 months now,” she reluctantly answers. 

“Okay,” Strauss nods, slightly upset but she gets it. “And I suppose you’ll want time off to care for him?” 

She nods, “Foyet knows we're together, he called our hotel room to try and make a deal with Aaron during the Reaper case in Boston, we weren’t dating back then but we were sharing a bed… I-I know that looks bad, but we weren’t doing anything inappropriate during cases I can assure you of that, we had both been through a tough few months with our injuries and me being held hostage and sleeping side by side was good for my anxiety after everything and—

“I understand,” Strauss reaches out and places her hand on her shoulder. “It’s okay. I know, I met my own husband at work, these things just happen.” 

She’s surprised that she’s being so nice… so she uses it to her advantage. “I have 5 weeks of vacation days banked from the last few years, and 3 weeks of sick days, can I have them all?” 

Strauss nods, “You, Aaron and Reid are all going to be off for a while, so I’m already interviewing someone to come in and fill your and Spencer’s shoes. Derek is stepping up to Unit Chief for the time being, Dave will stay second in command and when Spencer can come back to the office he will be working with Penelope in her room, on the phone with the team.” 

“Okay,” she likes this plan. “Do we know the people you’re interviewing?” 

“They’re the same people who were finalists when you were hired, so Aaron should know all of them,” she assures. “I’ll go off his notes and Derek will have an opinion on the final hire as well.” 

“Thank you for making this easy for us,” she gives her a small smile. 

“I just need you to do something for me.”

And there it is. Erin Strauss is a very transactional woman. She doesn’t do anything unless she gets something out of it. She did this before, when Aaron got suspended and she refused to give any dirt on the team. 

“What do you want?” she asks, giving in with a sigh. She leans against the wall and crosses her arms. 

“I need you to get him to agree to step down,” she explains. “While Derek will be the interim chief, I think that going forward... it would be best if when Aaron returns, he steps down for good. When this whole Foyet thing is done, we can asses his mental health and see if he would be able to take his role back, however, until then, I think he should step down. After Gideon's girlfriend was murdered he went a little crazy, we don’t need Aaron going through the same thing.” 

While she understands her reasoning, she doesn’t really want to agree. “Foyet wants to ruin his life, he wants him to be so depressed, so defeated, that he doesn’t have the energy to keep hunting him… stepping down would be smart.”

“Good, you agree. Well, that’s really all I wanted to talk to you about… is there anything else you need?” She asks. 

Y/N shakes her head. “No… um, I don’t know where we’re going to go yet but I know we can’t stay in DC while he’s healing. I just don’t feel safe with Foyet knowing where we live so when we do get settled somewhere can you maybe call us once a week or send emails with any updates about the case?” 

“I can definitely do that. You two take care, I’ll be in touch,” Strauss lightly touches her arm and smiles, and then she walks away. 

She just takes in a deep breath and lets it out with the slump of her shoulders. She hasn’t really slept since last week. Being in Canada, seeing what they saw, not being able to find Aaron, thinking he and Spencer were going to die… it’s all actually catching up to her now and she’s exhausted. She wanders back into his room, sits back down at her chair beside his bed and rests her head on his thigh. This is where she’ll be for the next few hours. 

Sleeping peacefully with the love of her life safely beside her. 

—

Aarons has been in the hospital for 3 days now, she hasn’t left his side more than a handful of times.

And she hasn’t gone home at all.

She convinces the nurses to let her use the residents' locker room showers to feel a little less gross and she changes into an outfit from her go bag that lives in her car. She’s scared to leave him, she’s scared to go back to her own apartment, she’s scared to walk the halls at night… she knows the reaper is like a ghost, he could pop up anywhere and so she’s terrified he’ll show up behind her and stab her to death. He knows about them. He knows Aaron was happy, even while divorced, and she’s sure that if he can’t get to Haley, he’s going to come after Her. 

She wants to get out of here, run as fast as she can as far as she can go and she wants to bring Aaron with her. He’s just not ready to be moved yet. She’s been thinking over the last 3 days, where could they go when he is ready? Her parents live down in Florida now at a retirement village so that’s not a place they can hide. His brother lives in New York in a small apartment and they’re not friendly and it could just put Sean in harm's way. And then it hits her. 

West Virginia. 

That’s where they’re going to go.

The team, well, Rossi, Morgan and JJ headed off on a case yesterday, something in Idaho regarding a missing child. She had planned on calling Derek if he wasn’t busy, she wanted to ask him to come to her apartment with her cause she was afraid to go alone and she needed to pack and change and shower with her own things. But he’s busy. And he’s only going to get busier. 

So she calls Anderson. He is the BAU’s equivalent of a head resident in a hospital. He makes schedules, he makes sure people are where they need to be, he makes calls and fills out paperwork and he ensures that Aaron's job—well, Morgans now, goes smoothly. He’s trained just like every other agent in the FBI, he just hasn’t been in the field in 5 years now. He likes his office job. This is where he shines the most. He could help her, too. 

He meets her outside her home with his gun on his hip and a sorrowful look on his face. He asked about Aaron, or Hotch as they all called him. No matter what happened, no one but she seemed to be able to call him Aaron. It felt too intimate. Nevertheless, he goes into her apartment with her, helps her clear it to ensure no one is hiding in wait, and stays in the living area while she packs. 

In her bedroom, in the box under her bed full of memories, she finds a brochure for the Bed ’n Breakfast they stayed in last year and she immediately calls the number on the back. 

“Evergreen Bed and Breakfast, Mary speaking,” the elderly British woman answers the phone. 

“Hi, I’m not sure if you remember me but my friend Aaron and I stayed with you last year we were in Room 6,” she explains, hoping that rings any bells. But if it didn’t, she adds: “We work for the FBI and we were just coworkers who wanted two queens but you didn’t have any left?” 

“Oh, yes! Hello, dear, how are you?” She asks, chipper as ever. 

“I’m good, um, I was wondering if you knew anyone in the area who has a cabin for rent? We’d like to have a little getaway, we’re thinking 6 to 8 weeks…” 

“We have one,” she offers right away. “We were going to head up to clean it out for the fall and winterize it, but we can put that off until you’re done with it?” 

“Are you sure? I’d never want to inconvenience you—

“Oh, hush, it’s no worry on our end,” she assures Y/N. “When were you thinking you’d be needing it?” 

“Early next week? Um, Aaron was in an accident and he’s coming out of the hospital soon and we’d like a place to hide away while he’s in recovery… and if we could book it under a fake name, that would be good. I can pay cash, I really don’t want us to be found at all.” 

“Oh, my,” Mary can’t believe it. “Can I ask what happened?” 

“The most I can say is that a criminal we were after attacked him in his home,” she explains. “He’s going to need a while to recover, and I don’t think he can do it in that environment and I feel too exposed having him at my home in case the man knows where I live too.” 

“Holy,” is all Mary can say. Flabbergasted, Y/N can hear her breathing through her mouth, like it’s still left open, shocked at that answer. “It’s all yours.” 

“Thank you, thank you so much,” she feels so relieved. “How much do I owe you?” 

“For 8 weeks… 2 grand?” 

“Are you sure?” She asks, that seems a little low. “Does it have electricity and running water?” 

“Oh yes, it’s been in our family a long time. There are 2 bedrooms, a kitchen, a bathroom with a nice tub and a fireplace in the lounge. We normally close it down right before Halloween so it’s not of use to us and that money will cover the bills to keep it open longer, we won’t take anything more. Consider it a thank you for what you two do for a living,” she explains. “I’ll tell Eileen about this and she and her eldest son Marshall will go up there this weekend and make sure it’s up to standard, you can stop here and get the key and pay and no one will ever know you’re staying there.”

“I appreciate this endlessly, seriously, thank you. I have been so scared about what I’m going to do to keep him safe going forward, this is such a weight off my shoulders.” 

“You’re very welcome, dearie, we’ll see you next week,” Mary says, signing off. They say their goodbyes and then she’s alone in her room again. 

She has a moment to smile and take a deep breath. This will be okay. Haley is a strong woman, she’s going to fight for them. Aaron is a strong man but he’s also good at listening to her. She can get him to open up on their trip. She can use some of her psychology skills and help him if he is exhibiting any PTSD symptoms. She can clean his wounds and nurture his mind and love him and protect him and when he’s okay, they’ll go back to work and they’ll catch this fucker. 

She puts all her clothes in a suitcase, and she also packs everything of Aarons that she has at her apartment. Then, she grabs a laundry basket and fills it with other things they’ll need while in a cabin in the woods. All their shower things, towels and face cloths, laundry detergent and dryer sheets, a pair of scissors, nail clippers, tweezers, moisturizer, deodorants, toothpaste, toothbrushes, tissues, wet wipes, napkins, dish soap, a can opener… they’ll get anything else they need while they’re there, but she’s not sure how far a grocery store will be from this cabin. 

She throws in some cans of soup just to cover her bases. She cleans out her fridge of anything that will go bad while they’re gone. She plugs the sinks and the tub in the bathroom so bugs don’t get in with the pipes being dry for so long. She locks every window and Anderson helps her carry everything down to her car. She then calls her landlord and leaves a message about her going away for a while so he can turn off her water to prevent any flooding or pipe breaking in her absence and then she takes another deep breath. 

“anywhere else you need to go?” Anderson asks. 

“Aaron’s place,” she says reluctantly. “I need to pack his things… I don’t want to go there.” 

“It’s okay, I can help,” Anderson assures her. “I actually called a good crime scene clean-up crew right after the police were done with it and they tore up the carpet yesterday so you won’t have to see that again.”

“Thank you, Grant,” she reaches out and touches his arm and smiles. “I’ll see you over there.” 

They part ways to get in their own cars and drive to where Aaron lives on the other side of town. When they get there, the tape is still up on the outside of Aaron's door, the cleaning people must’ve just ducked under it… she takes it down and hesitates before going in.

“Now, I don’t know what Foyet did while he was here. We shouldn’t talk about anything confidential, or where we’re going just in case he has a listening device in there now,” she says, worried as ever. 

“Yeah, smart… but you were talking on the phone with someone making plans at your house, what if he—

“There’s no proof he was ever in my place but even still I never mentioned any names or locations on the phone,” she assures him. 

“Smart, okay, let’s go in,” Anderson says, handing her the keys to Aaron’s place. He got them surrendered to him from evidence after the police wrapped everything up. 

Inside, they clear the space quickly and then she does the same things she did at her own place. She packs Aaron's bag with all his comfy clothes, sweats and t-shirts and underwear and then a couple pairs of jeans and nice shirts— polos and button-ups, for when he’s feeling like he wants to go out and be a real person again. 

She knows what that’s like. In her senior year of high school, she had her appendix removed, she had 11 staples and she was out of school for a month. It was hard, she couldn’t shower often and laughing hurt, but the day she was able to get her staples out she got all dressed up for it. Simply because she could. 

And that was with just 1 wound. Aaron has 9. 

He’s going to hate feeling like he can’t do anything. He’s going to try and move and do things too soon because he’s impatient. She’s going to have to monitor his medicine intake and help him bathe and clean the wounds and redress for a few weeks… and she’s completely okay with that. She wants the rest of her life with him and if that means the "in sickness and in health" part starts now. She’s going to do it. 

Once she has everything he’d need clothing-wise, she throws out things in his refrigerator, plugs all the drains and talks to the super of his building to get everything turned off while they’re gone. 

While Anderson is bringing the suitcase out to her car, she has 2 more things she wants to bring. Aaron's gun safe sits on his night table, it’s fingerprint-activated and both his and her own thumbprint are in it. She opens it up to see that his spare gun is in there. The one day he didn’t wear it on his ankle was the one day he was attacked… his passport and some cash are in there too. She locks it up again and unplugs it from the wall and starts to carry it out into the main room. 

“Woah, let me get that,” Grant says as he walks back in. “You’re bringing this?” 

She nods, “Yeah. We’re bringing our guns with us, we need to keep them somewhere?” 

“Yeah, I mean, it’s not like you’re gonna be at a h—

“Grant,” she cuts him off. Knowing he was about to say a hotel with a safe. “No specifics while we’re in here.” 

“Right, sorry,” he apologizes. “I’ll go put this in your car.” 

“I’ll be right out.” 

He heads down the hallway and she has a moment to look around. She grabs another laundry basket and puts in some of Aaron's running shoes and slacks. A bottle of his favourite whisky from the bar cart and Aaron's laptop. His phone is still in evidence so she’ll have to go get that, and his gun is with the police too so she’ll have to sign it out… and last but not least she grabs his two photo albums. One is full of his childhood memories and the other is all of Jack's baby pictures. He’s going to need this. 

She takes the basket with her out into the hall and sets it down as she locks up and then heads back out to her car with it. It’s pretty packed now. All she needs is Aaron to be released from the hospital and they can run away together. 

She can’t wait to run away with him. 

IKP

@southernraven @alluringshawn @lambsheepsheeping @lmg-stilinski24 @louderfortheback @deludedfruitcake @kleff03 @mrs-ssa-hotch @maxinehufflepuffprincess @lokifanfic2021 @art-and-thoughts @forkswabutnoforks4me @no-1martinipolice @panhoeofmanyfandoms @pastanoodles11 

General Taglist 

@ncsls0515 @stevesmunsons @reidsbookclub @sweetyyhippyy @manuosorioh @mrs-dr-reid @k-k0129 @squishyturtle @katsukis1wife @babybisexual @marsmunson86 @buckleyhans 

[mothmanssweetsucculentass]

Nurse Ann Headcanons

It’s MY blog and I get to pick which creepypasta goes next for my HC list!

No but seriously I feel like Ann has always been such an underrated character, it sucks the OG artist (Yaguyi I believe) never came up with a canon story for her.

Everything I list here is purely not canon, literally the only thing we have to go off canon-wise is that one image made years ago.

You know the drill, expect canon typical violence. Extra warning for mentions of SA, this is your only warning, stop reading NOW if things like that bother you

Is some form of zombie, however has full sentience and intelligence somehow

Zombies aren’t normally this coherent, like???

Died around the 90s

Was a nurse at a small hospital in New York before her death

Got into a car accident on her way to work one day

Assumed on the way to the ER of the hospital she worked in that she was in good hands

Oops! There’s a secret cult operating behind the scenes at the hospital!

The head surgeon was always a lecherous creep to the nurses. Took advantage of Ann’s injured unconscious state in multiple ways

Wasn’t sedated, was fully awake and felt everything as her body was dismembered, all in the name of [REDACTED] in the hospital basement

Her organs were harvested after she died from her injuries. Heartless physically and emotionally!

Her body was dumped up north in the woods

Botched sacrifice left her life clinging to each part of her body in a weird unconscious state

The pieces of her body were found by Jason. He planned to use her for spare parts in his craft, but some other force urged him to reconstruct her instead

Now the two are besties (mainly because Ann considers that she has a lifelong debt to Jason)

Obviously this whole experience fucked her up

Like bro my coworkers just murdered me in a ritual sacrifice and didn’t even do it correctly smh

Is fueled by spite and revenge

Has yet to track down every person at the hospital involved or complacent with the cult

But makes sure every time she finds one, they suffer a painful death the same way she did

Besides vengeance, she’s motivated to kill for her own body

No seriously she’s a walking corpse. She’s gotta find new body parts every so often, or consume flesh to revitalize the parts of her she can’t part with

Often replaces limbs, refuses to replace parts of her torso, or her head

Thanks to Jason teaching her, she’s insanely good at sewing and stitching

Her and Jason are the go-to pastas for whenever someone has a ripped shirt or something

Has an immense hatred for the medical system for many reasons besides what happened to her

Tries to be as gentle as possible with her patients, especially Sally

Gentle =/= BS tolerance tho

The amount of times she’s kicked Jeff out of her office because he was rude or made a pervy comment. If you’re gonna be a creep go tell your jokes to the big demon with no eyes and mouth tentacles

Keeps a secret stash of candy like a real doctors office and often hands them out randomly. Most of the time it isn’t even for good behavior during checkups, she just likes surprising people with random candy

Is often found betting on who gets hurt by what on a weekly basis with Eyeless Jack. Both of them agree that Jeff is off limits because he’s showing up to either of them constantly

Any body parts she doesn’t use or consume gets shared with Eyeless Jack and the other cannibals

Her hair isn’t naturally red, or even naturally there anymore. It’s a wig. Like bro she’s undead, have you seen the hair on corpses at funerals. There’s no way in hell she’s getting human hair to look that good for that long

But on the topic of wigs—weirdly one of the few pastas allowed to mingle with “normal” society

She’s insanely good at disguising herself

Owns many different wigs and outfits that strategically cover the rotting or stitched parts of her flesh from the public eye

Will moonlight as many different roles/jobs to gain access to needed supplies

Also helps gather local intel when Ben’s usual online intel isn’t enough

Secretly has befriended a few humans. Often goes out for coffee/book club with this very small group

Would probably be fully mentally broken if the others found out and went after her human friends

She loves being friends with Jason, Helen, and Eyeless Jack, but she knows for a fact that all 3 of them would see that as weakness and use it against her somehow

If Helen found out, he’d immediately use the information as leverage and blackmail against her

Jason would get insanely jealous. As per usual in his case. And would obviously go after the poor people

Eyeless Jack would straight up just eat them. I mean at least he’d offer to share with Ann, because he’d assume she was just “saving them for later” but eat them he would and he wouldn’t feel bad about it

She’s terrified of anyone finding out and often has a “do I even belong here?” Crisis

Up until she remembers why she’s there in the first place and immediately goes back to tracking down those involved in her death

Ben offered to help track these people down for her once, which was immediately turned down

It doesn’t feel the same if someone else did all the work like that. She has to be the one to find them and make them pay or it just doesn’t sit right with her

Is neutral about animals, but hates insects due to the fact they so frequently go after corpses. Bug traps and cans of various bug killers are scattered throughout her office to keep them at bay

Wears a fuckton of perfumes and bug repellants when out in human society to mask her rotting scent and to keep bugs off her skin

Is friends/close with: Eyeless Jack, Helen, Jason, Kagekao, Masky, and Hoody

Has a tolerable relationship with: Ben, LJ, Clockwork, Slenderman, Nina, Liu, and Sally

HATES/doesn’t get along with: Jeff, Jane, the Puppeteer

Jeff is pretty self explanatory

She doesn’t like Jane because Jane just rubs her the wrong way. She can’t explain why, but it feels like Jane is trying to be better than her for some reason

Puppeteer mistook her for one of Jason’s creations and assumed she was free to “play” with. Once he realized she was sentient and not, in fact, a corpse doll, he stopped, but she’s never forgiven him for that

Oh yeah if it wasn’t already obvious she holds hella grudges

If you don’t apologize within the microsecond of wronging her, your ass is on the burn list

Piss her off enough and she’ll remember specific details of things you did, and then list them off in front of other people until you do whatever she wants in that moment

If Helen is the king of manipulation then she’s the queen

You’d think her and Jason would be the gossip besties but it’s actually her and Helen fr

Is pretty close with Masky and Hoody since they’re the only other ones who are able to go out in human society often

She has no idea that they know about her human friends, but it’s fine considering they’re ones to talk

Her and Eyeless Jack share a bond of having unfortunate connections to [REDACTED]

Has made sure to carve off every part of her original body effected with the brandings/symbols of the cult

Often changes her eyes out for new fun ones. Does heterochromia for fun, and to irk Nina

“But you look like a Mary Sue when you do that!!” “But it looks cool” “BUT THE PRINCIPLE OF IT!!!!!”

When not tending to the injured masses, she’s often in the mansion’s library, or out in human society hanging out with her friends gathering supplies

[spnfanficpond]

Pond Diving - @spn-fanfic-reblog-writes!

Welcome to today’s Pond Diving Spotlight! We hope that you enjoy this little insight to our members and perhaps even find some useful tips for your own writing. Happy reading!

Want to volunteer, send us an ask or DM @mrswhozeewhatsis! We’re looking forward to learning more about all of you! Not sure what PD is, you can learn more here.

“Don’t Be Koi About It” - All About You

Name: Laili

Age: 38

Location: Gulf Coast, USA

URL: @spn-fanfic-reblog-writes

Why did you choose your URL: I made a bunch of blogs at once and realized I wanted to make sure readers knew what the blog was about.

What inspired you to become a writer: Reading. My imagination. Drawing. I was never big on reading “educational” books. I’m not a fan of Tolkien or C.S. Lewis. I don’t like wordy stories. I read each word and imagine everything I read in a deep detail and texture. I’ve always written and write stories when I can’t find the story I wanna read. I was always told to write the story you want to read. Sing the song you wanna hear. I only publish them because I know I’m not the only one interested. I can’t be. Why would I want to write it if it’s just for me? Someone else, even one other person, is interested.

How long have you been writing:  Most of my life. Writing fanfic since 2022.

What do you do when you are not writing i.e. Job/Hobbies etc?  Reading fanfic. Stay-at-home-parent or -house person, illustrating for bangs and fests or friends, watching tv/movies, hanging out with friends.

How long have you been in the SPN Fandom?  Since Supernatural the tv series came out in 2005.

Are you in any other fandoms and do you write for them? Moon Knight. Yes. The Boys. Yes. Highlander the series. Yes. Star Trek. No. Dark Angel. Yes. RPF. Yes. Medieval, fantasy dragon-focused stories. Want to. Futuristic and high magic stories. Want to. Urban fantasy. Yes. Modern AUs. Yes. Mortal Kombat: Conquest. No. Doctor Who. No.

Do you do any writing outside of fanfiction? If so, tell us about it? 

Poems, songs, and original fiction—usually urban fantasy, sci-fi fantasy, or similar. I have two novels I am working on. 

One is based on the A/b/o trope and how it’d affect humanity. It’ll follow a family. 

The other is an urban fantasy where a psychic woman meets an angel who has lost their faith in God and she guides him through her own day-to-day living back to God. I didn’t mean for it to become a religious fiction book. It was meant more as a supernatural romance but after discussing my idea with a friend, it’s how it went. 

As some with religious trauma, you’d think I wouldn’t write this. I’ve been more active on that novel than the other.

Favorite published author:  so many to choose from…. Christine Feehan, E.E. Cummings, Robert Frost, Robert Asprin, William Sears (NOT the doctor), Laurel K. Hamilton, Erma Bombeck, Berkeley Breathed, and more.

Have you ever read a book that made an impact on your life? Which one and why?:  

 I think all books make an impact but their degree depends on the reader. 

You’ll probably laugh but two of the first books that I can remember that I read…well, my Mom read to me so many, many times were “The Napping House” and “The Circus is Coming”. 

“The Napping House” by Audrey Wood, published in 1984. It was probably more on how she told the story and she always spoke with enthusiasm and energy to show how everyone experienced what was happening. The story is about a different sort of family who naps during a storm, and they all literally sleep and cuddle on one another but get awoken. Despite all the troubles and disturbances, they take it in stride and go outside to play together since it isn’t raining anymore. They rolled with the punches and kept being positive about it, not caring what caused all the issues to begin with. Blame didn’t matter. 

“The Circus is Coming” A picture parade by Hilary Knight, published 1978. It’s beautiful. The art is gorgeous and it’s out of print. It isn’t easy to find. It is a way to be in a fantasy world and live outside it. It shows you the wonderfully, gorgeous and exotic circus parade and the regular kids running alongside it. It has a “Barnum and Bailey’s circus” resemblance to me but true artwork in a book that anyone could see and touch. It’s very silly, very gorgeous, a wonderful imagination, and very realistic. It allows the reader a way to get away for a while and it’s so encompassing, both pages every time take up the art.

Favorite genre of fanfic (smut, angst, fluff, crack, rpf, etc):  fluffy, a/b/o, and smut. I love angst with my fluff or hurt/comfort. 

Favorite piece of your own writing: Imagine You’re Dating Vampire!Dean

Most underrated fic you have written:  Bedtime Routine. It's a kid fic and fluffy.

Story of yours that you’d most like to see turned into a movie/tv show: Domestic Destiel #1 OR In The Mood

Favorite Tumblr Writer(s):  ​(not all of them but a lot) @spnexploration @zepskies @luci-in-trenchcoat @holylulusworld @moosekateer13 @riley-phoenix @impala-dreamer @malicmalic @zationao3 @sharkfish @redamber79 @butterflysklinky @quietwingsinthesky @destielshipper4cas @thoughtslikeaminefield @wigglebox @naughtystiel @niche-patische @wisteria-lodge @a-deed-without-a-name @valandrawrites @anyreiart @queerwolfsstuff @punk-is-notdead @almaasi @omegadeanlovesalphacas @no-gorms @lizleeships @envydeanwrites @nickelkeep @baconandpie1 @sitruunavohveli @peachonified @unforth @starlightoffandoms @seidenapfel (There are tons more not on Tumblr!)

Favorite fic from another writer:  Pack by @spnexploration​

Favorite character to write: Dean Winchester

Favorite Pairing to write:  Destiel

Least favorite character to write (and why):  “Evil” characters because it’s hard for me to understand them and write them well. I love a good bad guy, truly, especially when you don’t realize they’re the bad guy until it’s too late. Those are the best. The ones you love and break your heart.

Do you have anyone you consider a mentor? I guess K.M. Weiland since she has the website helpingwritersbecomeauthors.com and she explains all aspects of writing stories with examples, so much. It helps so much. ​

Do you have any aspirations involving your writing?   I want to be a published fiction writer on the NY Times Best Seller list. 

How many work-in-progress stories do you have:  lol! I had to make a list and counted, 94, that I have every intention to write. (This does not include the bingos I haven’t even touched yet or worked on.)

What are you currently working on?  Waiting for my beta on my Spn Sabriel Bang fic (to be posted August 11th). I’m working on an a/b/o series that leads to a polycule (destiel x reader).

“Pond Diving” - All About The Writing

What/who has had the biggest influence on your writing?  My Mom. She’s the reason I haven’t kept writing when I would lose interest. Now, I can add so many fandom folks I met on discord or tumblr that have helped keep me going, especially when my depression starts getting to me. It helps so much. Thank you is not enough to say.

Best writing advice you've been given:  When you start writing, write what you know. Read and read and read but read good authors.

Biggest obstacle you’ve faced in your writing: Depression. It lies and wants you to give up on everything. It makes you focus on yourself when you should be focused on those around you and your mutuals.  

What aspects of writing do you find difficult when you write fanfiction? Finishing. Stopping the plot bunnies from dominating my mind while I’m writing. 

Is there anything you want to write but are afraid to (and why): Triggering aspects of mental health. I’m worried no one will want to read it. I’m worried I’ll end up triggering someone or myself as I write it. Well-written negative mental health episodes in stories have triggered me and I was surprised. I knew how to handle it because I have a lot of different coping skills I’ve been taught and practice but I recognize not everyone has that.

What inspires/motivates you to write:  Life. Other people’s creativity. Stories I want to read that no one has written yet. 

How do you deal with self doubt:  My family, friends and mutuals are huge ego and mood boosters. Taking a break does help and getting different perspectives on the situation or what’s going on can make a big difference.

How do you deal with writer's block: Change how I’m being creative. Instead of writing, I’ll draw or paint or do photography. My goal is to always be creative or artsy. It’s ok to do other things than write. 

Do you plan/outline your story before you start: Honestly, it depends on how I come across the idea. I tend to do half and half. If I outline, it’s basic stuff and then I’ll write, sometimes I’ll go a different direction than my plot line which is acceptable. Just depends on where the characters wanna go.

Do you have any weird writing habits:  I write on my phone. lol! I also collect office supplies but I think that has more to do with being close to my dad whose trunk used to be his storage when he sold office supplies. 😊

Have you ever received hateful comments on your fic and how do you deal with it?  Not for my fic writing that I can recall. Honestly, I ignore them. I will talk to close friends about it to help me process it and reduce my anxiety but I just ignore them and delete the comment.

Conversely: what’s been some of your favorite feedback on your fanfic?  People asking me to write more, even on one shots. People telling me that they love it.

If you could give one piece of advice to a new and/or struggling writer, what would it be?  ​

I have two and I can’t remember who said them.

Just write. It doesn’t matter what you write, just write.

Write the story you want to read. 

Those are two things I think of when I’m staring at blank paper or a blank screen and nothing comes to mind. That last is why I write what I write. Sometimes I don’t even know that’s the story I want to read until it’s done. 😊 

[lazyapperence9754]

The mental facility AU is an AU where, you guessed it, everyone is in a mental hospital due to their “vibrant” personalities (ie. mental disorders).

Hero- Severe depression (Chronic depression)

Was placed in the “hospice care” area of the facility.

He had already had underlying symptoms of his condition for a while before the accident, but after his only flicker of hope disappeared, he fell so deep into his sadness that by the time his parents realized something was very, very wrong, he was close enough to death to kiss Mari on the lips.

He resides in bed for the time being, sometimes awake and sometimes asleep, but never up and around. Nothing the doctors pump into his system does anything to him.

Sunny- Schizophrenic symptoms / hallucinations (Schizophrenia)

Was placed in the “major risk” area of the facility.

After killing his sister and being caught by his parents after taking her to bed, he pleaded insanity in court and was sent to the hospital to “get better”. His father doesn’t come by to visit anymore. He’s convinced that Mari isn’t dead, and is still sleeping in her bed, waiting for him to come home. She even visits him sometimes, but when she does, she wears this really scary costume that makes her look like a ghost. She doesn’t listen when he tells her it isn’t Halloween anymore.

He resides in his room most of the time, drawing his friends and his special world over and over again. When group therapy sessions happen, he’s the one staring off into space as everyone else talks. Everyone else thinks he’s weird, at least, everyone but his friends.

Kel- Bipolar disorder (BPD)

Was placed in the “high risk” area of the facility.

Kel was someone who couldn’t control himself very well. He smiled when everyone cried and cried when everything was fine. He felt nothing and everything at the same time, and the only thing that changed was which emotion was stronger. It came to a boiling point when Mari died. At last, his emotions exploded and so did his fireworks, setting the entire park on fire. He smiled as everyone screamed and laughed as his dog Hector and everything else left behind burned to a crisp in the flames. In court, he was determined as mentally unstable and sent to the hospital for psychiatric treatment. Nobody visited him.

He resides in the hospital lobby most of the time, greeting newcomers and waving goodbye to the old comers leaving the place. He helps in any way that he can around the place, and everyone likes him, even if it’s just a little, though he can’t be trusted with any chores like serving food. When he told people the reason why he was there, they gapped their mouths in disbelief. It made him laugh.

Aubrey- Anger management (Anger issues)

Was placed in the “minor risk” area of the facility.

Living with her abusive mother, it was no wonder where Aubrey inherited her mean streak from. Her anger knew no bounds, and she could bark as much as she could bite, which was quite a lot. But when she met her friends, her anger subsided a bit. She became nicer, more calm. But the people she went to school with saw this as a weakness, and so they tried to bite. When Mari passed away, the kids at school cornered her with knives and broken beer bottles, and she did what she had to to get out of there alive. She was arrested later that day after the cops found the seven beaten up children in the alley behind Geno’s. In court, she was free of charge after CTV footage of the interaction was retrieved, showing she was (mostly) innocent, though, she was still sent to the hospital anyways. Her mother had disowned her after she was arrested.

She resides in the cafeteria, serving food and greeting newcomers. It was either that or garbage duty. She likes hanging out with Kel sometimes, but to her, the guy really gets on her nerves most of the time.

Basil- Self harm / Suicidal thoughts (SH)

Was placed in the “major risk” area of the facility.

Basil was there when the accident happened. He stood at the stair well as Mari descended in seemingly slow motion, like an angel from heaven. But when she hit the ground, she looked more like the embodiment of hell. And Basil ran. He ran as fast as he could, away from the stairs and away from the house. He was a coward. After she was announced dead, Basil’s mental decline began quickly. It started with him skipping school, then meals, then just eventually going in for the kill with a pair of gardening shears and some pesticide. He survived, unfortunately for him, and was transported to the hospital for treatment. How horrible it was that Sunny and Basil had adjourning rooms.

Basil doesn’t leave his room unless required, and he straight up refuses to be put in the same room as any of his friends.

Mari- Deceased

Was killed on accident by Sunny during a schizophrenic episode.

But she isn’t really dead, is she? Sunny is keeping her alive. Just the force of his will keeps her on this earth, forever in sadness and longing for life again. She even still visits Sunny sometimes.

[lipglossandsacrifice]

Not required to answer this, just some lore I’ve compiled. So we’re lucky both the game and lore pages for Orin Ayo are still up because then I would be fucked, but unfortunately Breakthrough can’t be played unless you happen to find an archived version.

For Dave Ruy though, all you really need to know is that he used to work at a medical supply chain company, which he hated. He dreamed of being able to work with all the big dogs like doctors and nurses, but that dream never became a reality. He grew hateful and resentful of his own life, feeling like it was going nowhere. Then, he began to project that hate onto others, blaming them for all that has gone wrong in his life. With that hate, he sought out a new goal in life. He faked his death, quit his job, and recruited two other friends, Paige Cook and Hue Bickers, to start something bigger than themselves: A cult ran by a new man, Tab. Paige was an electrical engineer while Hue was a programmer, and combined with Tab’s medical knowledge, they began experimenting with a substance called ferrofluid. Their goal was to find a way to immortalize a person’s pain, before the goal shifted to killing those who deserved to die and torturing them for all of eternity. This is where the main them of Orin Ayo comes from. However, it wasn’t fated to last. The first mistake came from Paige when she missed her assigned target and shot Ethan at a parade. She was tortured and I presume she’s dead. Then, Hue got piss drunk and got himself killed by a tiger, to which Tab blamed the groundskeeper and proceeded to torture him until Tab didn’t feel joy from it anymore. He then learned that someone stole his old identity which happened to be stolen by a dude he didn’t like (Derick), so he killed him too (won’t elaborate because it’s in the documents). Then, Tab learns about the apartment fire and the forcing of Kurt to burn the place down. Lastly, Hety Banker, another cult member, went off the deep and and killed Lilac before dying at a hospital. Everything was falling apart, and the people he trusted are either dead or betrayed him. So, he gathers up all the documents associated with the cult and their activities, scatters them by Derick’s corpse to absolve the cult of blame, and then turns himself in. For 2 years Tab stayed in prison before he was given a second chance. The cult had access to impressive technology, and if Tab agreed to use it for good, he would have his own medical research facility he gets to direct so long as he shows complete obedience to the hospital he works under. This kicks off Breakthrough, which takes place three years after Orin Ayo

Orin Ayo game: https://scratch.mit.edu/projects/881670502

Orin Ayo Character Profiles: https://scratch.mit.edu/projects/904500450

Orin Ayo Lore Document (subject to change): https://docs.google.com/document/d/19xC3qvjp5AcPiMudQer3jacrEeJrMSGoKqALOMH9Vz0/edit

Be sure to check the wiki too, but don’t always trust what’s there. The main thing you wanna look for is James’s full unburnt document. Feel free to pick and choose what you want, I know the story isn’t really written the clearest so there might be things you just wanna flat out change lol. That’s what I do

Feel free to DM me if you got any questions

(ooc: thank u, i'm gonna toss this up onto the blog and then save the link for future reference! ^^ )

[worldsfromhoney]

I’ve been so much on the fence about this that i think i consulted three servers i’m in and had a very reasonable breakdown during an intense convo with one of my best friends.

BEHOLD this is the result of my externalised inner struggle

🥁🥁🥁🥁 *drumroll* 🥁🥁🥁🥁

WiP intro: Imposter Syndrome

A What Shouldn’t Have Been Written short story.

Ok ima face it: idk what to do here so i’ll just wing it and i hope it’s enough 😵‍💫

Status

Will finish the first draft by 10/06

Posting date: 10/09

WiP tags

#wip: imposter syndrome

#wip: wshbw

#oc: del bonnaire

#oc: jo bonnaire

#oc: conn

#oc: mrs. bonnaire

What it on

A horror short story where society has found a way to let people change their skin—literally. And Del Bonnaire has had his eye on a particular one for years. With a dying mother and a grieving dad, what can stop him?

Genres/Themes

horror/thriller

suspense

sci-fi

family

morality and ethics

NOTE: there’s a hella more tags and warnings but they’re available on Inkitt and Wattpad so please look before you read!

Characters

Those who matter anyway ✌️But! They all show up! They all matter!

Del Bonnaire

A daddy’s boy is what Del puts in every social profile he has. And that’s exactly what he is. Recently graduated from university and turned 22 years old. He’s delayed his coming-of-age ‘changing’ for 7 years and has batted away the legal notices. An inch taller than his rugby player of a father, with a lean form (genetics, darling, he’ll say), and rare green-hued eyes—he’s a catch for the skin centre. But there’s a reason he’s delayed and the time has finally come.

Jo Bonnaire

Del’s father and [redacted]. Despite being a sports boy throughout his entire life, barring from going professional, he doesn’t like being put to the spotlight. A devoted husband who attends to his wife’s every want and need, even to the point of predicting it. Very sticky though, as his rugby lads would comment. Recently turned 40 as he got Del early in life. Comes from old money and works as a behind-the-scenes philanthropist. He seems normal enough… right?

Mrs. Bonnaire

Del’s mother and [redacted], and Jo’s wife and [redacted]. She’s a pretty isolated person and neighbours gossip it’s because she got sickly after her first husband’s death. An utter miracle that someone like Jo had taken her in, they’ll also say. No one’s seen much of her family than her father who was seen rowing with Jo one night and never came back. Past schoolmates say she was very different in the past—a political activist against the ‘skin change movement’. Where’s that woman now?

Conn

Del’s childhood best friend. He and his aunt are the Bonnaire’s closest neighbours. Rather than him keeping Del, it’s more of the way around with how others see him always being comforted and apologising after a fight. Like a puppy whining after a particularly slick kitten, the other kids say. Handsome enough in his own right—brunette, grey eyes, dimple—but overshadowed by Del’s dark, tall, and handsome vibe. He doesn’t mind. He doesn’t mind much of what Del does anymore.

Dr. Katz

The doctor assigned to Mrs. Bonnaire’s case. One of the most renowned doctors in the hospital and the only one willing to take on the case. Not because of its queerness or impossibility but because of the two Bonnaires who stand guard day and night. You’re just imagining it, the charmed nurses reassure her, but she isn’t buying it. In the end, she’s right not to.

Snippet

NOTE: the snippet here is from the first draft which is crap so you will be reading crap 🥰

I think I give him an answer but it gets lost as a muffled mumble in his shirt. I’m not ready to let go. There’s a beating heart and a chest that rises and falls properly with no help so near that I don’t want to let go.

…and that’s all for now!

[all-eyes-lead-to-the-truth]

All Eyes Lead to the Truth | Nisei (3x09)

For years Penny tried to ignore the flashes. It seemed like out of nowhere, she’d be blinded by a bright, white light she couldn’t blink away. Sometimes during intimacy with her husband, his loving face would be momentarily replaced by a familiar stranger looming over her, causing her to cry and pull away. Other times, all she could hear was the whirring sound of a drill.

These flashes would only last a moment, and for years she told herself it was probably just a side effect of the stress her unexplained disappearances caused. A drug habit, fugue state, an affair, everyone had their theories about where she was when she went missing. All Penny knew was that, cumulatively, there were nine months of her life that she didn’t get to live.

But then something happened, and she couldn’t ignore the flashes anymore. Penny had been to the gynecologist plenty of times in her life, but this time she was filled with a sense of impending dread. It was a perfect storm of triggers, being so exposed, her legs spread in the stirrups, the smell of anesthetic, the sharp snap of plastic gloves, the cold metal-

They were strapping her down to the table, injecting her with something that made her vision blur. Her stomach felt like it was going to burst. She could feel the metal rod impaling her.

The next thing she knew, she was in the corner of the room screaming while her OBGYN looked on in horror.

After that, she recognized the flashes for what they were: memories.

* * *

After joining the MUFON group, Penny learned there were some memories all the women in the group shared — the light, the men, the pain. 

But, usually, everyone remembered something that was unique to their experience. Lottie remembered one of her doctors sardonically humming America the Beautiful as he arranged the drill bit. Betsy remembered hearing an Asian language being spoken above her. Quite a few women fervently remembered someone smoking a cigarette.

For Penny, she remembered comforting a young woman with auburn hair. But, just like all the memories, it came back in vague bits, vignettes that were difficult to discern. 

Someone screaming, “Stop! Get away from me!”

The distant sounds of beeping getting faster.

A sense of empathetic dread.

A trembling, red-headed woman who reminded Penny of her sister.

The warmth of holding someone in her arms.

Bright blue eyes filled with tears.

Today, she finally got to put a name with a face.

Dana Scully.

* * *

There was something surreal about knowing the ins and outs of a stranger’s body language.

Dana’s tendency to blink back emotions, the anxious swipe of her tongue across her lips, her need to shield her vulnerability by hiding her face in her hands — Penny knew it all. She had been at Dana’s side during some of the darkest times of their lives, yet she had to resist the urge to pull her into her arms like she’d done a thousand times before. The younger woman didn’t remember her.

Even though Penny found comfort in knowing these other women knew what she’d gone through, she understood why it could make someone uncomfortable. The intimate violations they’d all endured were dehumanizing, cruel, and seemingly senseless. Dana seemed to be a private person, having a room full of people she didn’t recognize talk about her trauma so openly seemed to be too much.

She said she wasn’t ready to discuss her experience, and Penny respected that. Trying to figure out what words felt accurate to the violation was a personal experience for everyone. 

Penny wishes she could take away her pain. The first time is always the worst, and this woman thinks they’re going to kill her. She doesn’t realize they aren’t that merciful. She isn’t sure why they keep allowing her to approach the young woman, let alone hold her for so long, but she isn’t going to question it. Physical touch that didn’t come with pain was rare here.

* * *

There were women just like them all over the globe, women who came together after their abduction experiences to offer support to each other. The people in their day-to-day lives might not have been willing to listen to them, but according to Betsy, some of the women from the European chapters of MUFON said they had caught the attention of people who hadn’t been abducted. There was even a woman who was interested in their stories, who cared enough to document their experiences and accompany the women to their doctor’s appointments.

Getting other people to listen was the first step to being taken seriously, to finding out who was behind this.

There weren’t many of them in Allentown, but they had each other. It was the strength of these women that got her through those experiences, and it was the strength of these women that would help her embark on this dark path they were all destined to walk.

Penny’s hand covers the back of Dana’s neck where an adhesive bandage covers the mark that will tie them together forever.

Dana doesn’t say much anymore, but when she does, it’s usually the same reassurance to herself.

“He’ll find me.”

“My partner, he-uh,” Dana stammered, turning away from the window when Betsy struggled to climb down from the MRI machine, clearly exhausted from the new rounds of tests she was forced to undergo. “He’s waiting for me.”

“I know this is hard, Dana,” Penny whispered, clasping the woman’s hands in her own for the first time in over a year. “But I hope you know you’re not alone.”

Dana offered a small smile and squeezed Penny’s hand before stepping out of the room.

“Do you think we’ll be seeing her again?” Lottie asked from beside her.

“We’re going to get out of here,” the red-headed woman whispers against Penny’s temple, wiping away tears Penny didn’t realize had fallen. “You can’t give up hope.”

With a smile, Penny nodded. “Yes."

Read the rest of All Eyes Lead to the Truth on Ao3

@gaycrouton