#so maybe theres some guilt there prompting this

[wild-at-mind]

I still want to talk about protesting Pride, and I will, but to get off my chest now:

I dont think you need a tonne of presentations and complicated documents and academic language to talk about pinkwashing in Israel and use to justify bombing of Gaza. You can literally just say 'no nation or people deserves to be bombed and murdered because some people in that country/people are homophobic/queerphobic/whatever term your audience for the statement is using. Seriously if you say that you're disgusting.'

You can run the risk of being incredibly bogged down in this stuff, making it so much more complicated than it is. It's not complicated. I know this is an issue. I've had YouTube ads alluding to 'SOME countries who are homophobic and bad blah blah' without stating a country name outright but clearly designed to take progressive sympathies from Palestine. But it won't work and we know it won't. No need for like workshops full of academic slides that no one who doesn't already agree will do.

[aria0fgold]

I just got to thinking... Moments where a character argued with their loved one only to find out next day something bad happened to them is some wonderful angst, but I think the opposite is also equally devastating.

Moments where you happily said "See you later!" or "See you tomorrow!" or even moments where you excitedly planned a hangout with them. Fully expectating to still be able to talk to your loved tomorrow, to still be able to spend time with them, only to find out that they're gone, whether it'd be they're missing or dead, is soul-crushing.

Cuz everything wasn't out of the ordinary the day before, it was just any other normal day, like all the other days before that too. Everything was fine, so where did it all go wrong?

[dckweed]

Can you write a fic about Hangman and his friend from childhood and when she found out she was pregenat, her (former) bf broke up with her? You can make it as angsty or fluffy as you want.

TIA

absolutely love this! i had a couple of ideas and i hope you love the one that i landed on for this prompt! again guys, feel free to send in more, i love new ideas! this is honestly alot longer than i anticipated it to be and im so so so sorry but i got so wrapped up in it for some reason but hi how are you? also, would we want a part two to this maybe? make Jake and Babygirl a series? idk man i could vibe with it. anyway, comment, reblog, send in asks <3

warnings: angst, fluff, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of abortion and guilt and shame.

disclaimer: I did not add in abortion to make a stance on pro choice, nor did i add it in to make a stand off to pro lifers. Please do not bring the matter of pro choice or pro life into my comments or you will be blocked from my blog. This is a topic that makes me incredibly angry as a woman, abortion may not be something thats for you or that you'll ever find yourself doing, but that doesn't mean that its not an option for other people. Not every person will make the same choices as you, can we please remember and respect that? Everyone has a different stance on this topic and that is okay, but theres no need to argue.

part two

'YOU'RE NOT ALONE, OKAY?' jake seresin.

When Jake had called you last week, he had heard it in your voice immediately, even though you tried so desperately to hide it. The sadness, the fear. Before you had even finished telling him how much you missed him, he had cut you off with a: "What's wrong, babygirl?" Babygirl. He had called you that from the day he'd met you, and it had annoyed you greatly at first but over time it came to be second nature to respond to it and you had stopped rolling your eyes after a year or so. You and Jake had been stuck together like peanut butter and jelly from your very first day together. You were 13 when you had first moved into his hometown, your family had bought the ranch right next to his and his mama had made her happy way over to come say hello, a grumpy and annoyed Jake in tow.

You often laughed at the memory, Jake had come off as he usually did, ego-fueled and jackassy, though you later learned that it was just a front to survive in his big family of all boys, where he just happened to be the youngest and treated like the baby. You had even called him a jackass on that day, and he quickly followed it up. "Babygirl, has anyone ever told you that you're a brat?" Even at 13 he had the playboy names that he'd learned from watching his older brothers. He was appalled that you swung your arm back and popped him one right on the cheek, leaving his eye black for the next two weeks. He was enamored by you immediately and from that moment on was by your side every waking moment of the day.

Relationships had come and gone for both of you, both of you having your hearts broken more than once and seeking the other out for comfort, there had been many a night spent on one of the others living room couch with fuzzy blankets and cake while one of you cried. You and Jake were so bonded that most of your partners took it threateningly, girls he liked enough to bring around his family (including you) took offensively to you almost immediately, and your boyfriends took his presence in your life personally, and this time? Well, this time was no exception.

"..you still there?" You sobbed out a terrible cry that had him sitting up straight on his couch. You felt terrible immediately and tried to reel it all back in, you were calling to congratulate him on the permanent placement after the uranium mission, all of which you had heard details about every single night. "Y/N, what happened?"

"Jake..he left me.." You cry, trying not to snot all over yourself as you looked down at your bathroom counter, panic flooding your tone. It had been two weeks since he'd been gone, and you had been fine because you knew you didn't need him, but you were scared now. Scared for your future, scared to tell Jake about the two positive lines on the two pregnancy tests sitting on your sink, because what if he left you too? "I dont even remember what it was over," Him, always him. "but it just hurts so fucking bad because it's like two fucking years of my life wasted on this goddamn asshole and he went and..just..left."

He had left. Had taken every single one of the things he had kept at your home, and had even gone as far as blocking your number, all because you said you had wanted to go take a trip to see your best friend Jake when he was finished with his detachment, even though you had just seen him two months before. He had called you a whore when you first told him you thought you were pregnant, it hadn't been more than two weeks since you'd last seen Jake and he was absolutely convinced that you two had fucked, even though he had been with you the whole time. You couldn't understand why every guy you dated thought that there was something between you and the man who had always been your best friend, or why his girlfriends treat you the way they did, but you tried not to dwell on it for too long.

"Y/N." Jake sighs, the sounds coming from your end of the phone absolutely tearing him apart. It always tore him apart, the way that you would fret and cry over these..these boys that hadn't ever treat you in the way that you needed to be treated, or let alone loved you in the way that Jake knew you needed to be loved, because he did love you in a way that you would probably never know. He had always been to afraid to tell you, too afraid of it making you uncomfortable enough that you would leave his life. Maybe not immediately, but over time, and that thought scared him even more than telling you how he truly felt because goddamn he couldn't and wouldn't ever imagine a life without his babygirl in it.

Two hours of crying on the phone, of convincing you to calm down and to take your damn vacation like you had planned, because you deserved it, and 14 hours later, Jake had you in his arms, held tightly to his always muscular chest as he basked in the feel of you, the scent of your hair and perfume. You looked a mess, you were a mess he knew, but he didn't care.

"I missed you so much.." You sniffle, pulling away from him. You wipe your eyes as you look up at him, his usual charming smile plastered across his stupidly handsome face, you couldn't help the smile that spread across yours at the sight.

"No tears, babygirl, no tears.." He says, bringing a thumb up to help you wipe your eyes. You lean into his touch, as if that was all the comfort you needed in the world and you watched the way his face softened, you loved that.

"Happy tears, i promise." You chuckle, leaning against him as he lead you to the baggage claim carousel for your flight. Your suitcases were easy to see, he'd seen them a million times before and didn't even need to double check to make sure he was right, he recognized the small stain on the bottom by the wheel that had been his doing. "You don't have to carry my bags Jake, you've already done enough by coming to get me."

"I always pick you up from the airport whenever you visit," He says, looking down at you as if what you said was absolutely insane. He grabbed the cases with ease and started wheeling them away, letting you carry your carry on bag. "Besides, if my mama ever found out i didn't carry a woman's bags for her, she'd drag me out of work by my ear and give me a talking to." He says only half jokingly. Mama Seresin had been a strict woman, but a loving one and had instilled all the southern gentlemen charms in all of her boys, quite proudly she liked to say.

"I know, and i feel like it's alot to ask, I dont mind carrying my own bags, Jake.." You say, following after him. You wore a baggy sweatshirt and some shorts, you knew it was hot in the San Diego area but you weren't wanting to risk Jake asking if you'd gained weight if your normal clothes looked different, you weren't ready to tell him yet.

"And i feel like it's the least i could do, you literally sat on an airplane for four hours just to come see me, you dont need to carry your bags to the truck too.." He says in a way that told you not to argue about it any farther, so you don't.

The trip to his truck isn't too long, he managed to find decent parking not far from the arrivals gates and you had planned your flight for a time when you knew it wouldn't be massively busy, but the drive to his off base apartment felt like it took hours. Jake talked most of the time, making sure the A/C was blowing on you at full blast because you looked sweaty, telling you about his friends and how they couldn't wait to meet the girl he was always talking about, about how he was looking forward to having a permanent position at the TOP GUN academy, even though it meant he couldn't be close to you at home anymore.

You listened the whole way, but your mind was on the little thing in your womb now, growing by the moment. Your mind was on the man who had up and left you as soon as you said it might have been a possibility because he swore you were a whore. Your mind was on your own Mama, who had passed away many years ago, you wished she was here to tell you what to do. You knew you could go to Jake's mama, she had always been like your own in some ways but you also knew that she couldn't keep a secret to herself, Jake would be the first phone call as soon as you were out of earshot and you didn't want him to find out in that way. You didn't want him to find out at all, afraid of what he would say, of disappointing him, you hated that thought more than you hated the thought of your Daddy being disappointed at you.

You had contemplated making an appointment at planned Parenthood, you knew you weren't too far along, it was still a possibility for you, but you couldn't bare the thought of it, as upset as you were. The universe had given you this curveball for a reason, you had to believe that, even if you didn't agree with it. You had to believe that this accident had a purpose.

You hadn't noticed that Jake had pulled into a small parking lot, or that he had even parked the car at all until his hand waved in front of your face, snapping you out of your reverie. "...Earth to Y/N..." You blinked rapidly a few times, taking in a deep breath as you turned to look at him. "You good?"

You smile forcefully, and his eyebrows furrow. "Sorry, i spaced for a minute. It's been a long couple of weeks, my brain wasn't all the way with it.." You say, looking outside the windshield. "Why are we at the beach?" You ask, your eyebrows furrowing now. A sandy strip of beach was in front of the truck, you could see the waves crashing against it and you could make out some people milling about, birds flying over head. If you squinted, you could make out a couple of surfers on the water, waiting for a decent swell to ride in.

"Because i live in the building right over there." Jake says softly, getting the feeling that something other than the breakup was bothering you. You were usually full of chatter, typically, jake couldn't get a word in edgewise when you were around, and he loved that about you, but today? Today it was all him and that worried him.

You glance towards the building to your right, confused. "Oh.." You shake your head and unbuckle your seatbelt, opening the door to his truck to get out when his large hand on your elbow stops you, his fingers wrapping around it and pulling you back towards him. "...Jake?"

He sighs, looking at you with that stern, but probing glance, as if he were looking into your soul. "..Are you sure you're okay?" He asks after a moment of hesitation, he wanted to know what was going on but he didn't want to push it too hard.

You could have cried right then and there, and you almost did as you could feel the tears welling in your eyes, your chin quivering as you tried desperately not to let them fall. You could only hope that he didn't notice. "Yeah," You nod, giving him the best smile that you possibly could, putting your other hand on top of his and giving it a squeeze. "I'm okay Jake, i promise.."

Jake doesn't believe you, not one bit but he knows that he'll figure out whats going on eventually, or you'll break down and tell him. You always did. He nods once, letting go of your arm before taking the keys out of the ignition and hopping out. You follow suit, having to jump down before joining him at the bed of the truck, where he lifts your bags out and sets them down.

The rest of the day goes smoothly, you settle into the guest room that he had made up for you, and you catch up with him on what he hadn't filled you in on over the phone. He made you lunch, and took you for a walk on the beach, letting you lean against him as you enjoyed the smell of the ocean.

Jake couldn't help but wish that he was able to do that with you all the time, hold you while you guys walked on the beach, or make lunch and eat it with you. He loved being with you all the time, and he always had, he just had never realized until it was much too late that it was because he loved you. He didn't like to dwell on it too much though, he didn't like the yearning and the sadness and anger it brought him. There was no need for it when you were with him now, even if only for a little while.

By the time sunset comes around you're starting to turn into the you that he's used to, the happy, goofy babygirl he had always known, and he can't help but think it's because you're happier here with him than you were with your ex, wishful thinking, he knew. But alas, a man could dream, couldn't he?

You were sat on the couch in Jake's living room, watching a game show like you used to when you were kids when you heard his phone ping with a text message. You chuckle as he groans grumpily, half asleep with your legs in his lap, and shifts to reach for his phone on the small table next to the couch.

You watch him roll his eyes and poke his tongue out as he types out a reply to whomever it was, you grin before poking him in the chest with your foot. "What was that eyeroll for?" You ask, half amused and half curious. You always were the nosey type. "Was it Rooster?" He had told you about how rocky their friendship was, but that it was getting better, you knew that Rooster could annoy the hell out of Jake without even trying and you thought it was absolutely hilarious because you knew that you used to do the same thing.

Jake sighs, looking at you with that million dollar smile of his. "If you must know, Babygirl," He starts and you cant help but giggle a little. "It was Phoenix, the squad are all heading to the Hard Deck and they wanted to know if I was coming." He says and you hum at him in response. "I'm telling them no, I'm sure you don't want to go and i don't want to leave you alone."

You think on it for a moment, staring at him before making your mind up. "Lets go." You say, sitting up and swinging your legs off of his lap. You miss the pout that he makes, his eyebrows furrowing at the loss of your touch. "I want to meet your other friends, i bet they could tell me some stories." You say with a giggle, going towards the guest room to change into better clothes.

Jake watches after you and stands with an exaggerated sigh after a moment. "Fine, but I'm only going so they tell you the good stories!" He says and you cackle knowing damn well that they would probably spin you some tales about the man you've known for a good portion of your life, you didn't mind because you could tell them some things that would make them piss themselves in return.

It wasn't long before the two of you are out the door, Jake locking it after you before walking with you to his truck. You were honestly feeling alot better about things with your ex after only being with him for a few hours, Jake always had that affect on you to make things feel better when it felt like the world was tumbling down around you.

You sing along to the country station as Jake drives, the windows down in his truck letting the ocean breeze flow through the cab as you guys go along the coast, and within a few moments you see the lights of the Hard Deck through the windshield and take note of the full parking lot.

"Damn Jake, is it always this busy?" You ask, slightly on edge by the amount of people that were probably in the bar, you put your hand on your tummy subconsciously, which Jake caught out of the corner of his eye as he found a parking space. That struck him as odd, you had never been the socially nervous person before.

That was Jake's first clue. You declining a chilled tequila in favor of water was his second, and honestly it was the only one that he needed to make the assumption. You never turned down tequila, especially after a breakup like this. Eyebrows furrowed in thought as he introduces you to his friends, Jake watches you throughout the night, merely sipping on his beer as he did, keeping an eye on you as moved throughout the bar.

Phoenix and Rooster absolutely loved you, they couldn't believe that you and Jake had been friends for as long as you had, or that you could stand to be around him and his ego. Bob had thought you were his long distance girlfriend from the way that he always talked about you, and the fact that he rarely every called you anything besides Babygirl. You chuckled at the trio, about to tell them that he had never once in your entire friendship called anything other than Babygirl if it wasn't absolutely necessary, when you felt your stomach lurch as Penny brought a plate of seafood around your area of the bar. Quickly, you excuse yourself, just barely making it to the bathroom before the vomit spews out of you.

Jake was hot on your tail, had even followed you into the bathroom to dutifully hold your hair for you, his large hand rubbing your back as you heaved the contents of your stomach into the toilet. "Jesus Y/N.." He says, a serious edge to his voice. He wasn't sure what he was upset about, the fact that you hadn't told him immediately, or that your boyfriend had left you. "How long?" He asks when you stand up, wiping your face with a paper towel he had handed you.

You let out a soft sigh, making your way to the sink where you splash your face with water, hoping that if you delayed the answer he would go away. He catches your eye through the mirror, arms crossed over his chest as he gives you that look of pure concern.

"..Two months, i think.." You finally say and Jake's jaw clenches. Your lip quivers, terrified that he's angry with you as scared tears well up in your eyes. "He..he called me a whore..he thought i slept with you and he called me a whore and he left and he took all of his things and he blocked my number and jake i dont know what to fucking do because this wasn't part of my plan!" You wail in one breath, completely breaking down in the bathroom of the bar.

Jake is almost startled by your outburst, but it quickly turns to anger at the words that left your mouth, at the accusation that your ex had made towards you. Jake knew you were a fiercely loyal person, you wouldn't have ever cheated on him, but he was more than certain that he would have cheated on you, how else could he have called you that so easily?

Jake swallows his anger, noticig your tears coming harder and faster down your face and crosses the small bathroom to pull you into his arms, letting you rest your face on his chest as he holds you, letting you sob all over his shirt. "It's okay, Babygirl.." He says, looking at the sight in the mirror. If there was one thing Jake Seresin knew for certain, it was that he was going to make sure you were cared for, it may not have been his baby but you absolutely weren't on your own in this, he wouldn't let you be. "You're not alone..i promise you.."

[writingakanatorior101]

Reaching over the line (see what I did there)

Summary: Linette needs a groundbreaking interveiw to pass her psych class which she is very desperatly failing. Luckyl Reacher is here to lend a hand.

Warning: Age gap , penetration , pyschology, neither of them understand themeselves

Also this is only a chapter of the story the full fic is Wattpad @SaturdaysLattes

Smut under line

MDNI

The sun peaked through my dorms curtains the beams of sunlight hit the fluffy white rug of my small dorm. The whole place may be 19ft, since my dorm was a single I had a bathroom and a little portable stove and mini fridge. I normally dont eat when I wake up I just keep my minifiridge stalked with ICE caffine drinks the blueberry ones are my favorite but there are some rasberry ones in there. Its about 5:30 now I pulled an all nighter 3 days in a row so thats probaly why I woke so late. Which means I have about two hours before Reacher gets here for this interveiw. 

I want my mind to drift anywhere but this interveiw. Fuck anxiety shakes the thought of this interveiw might kill me. Looking around the dorm is already pretty clean. The only thing the isnt clean is me and my thoughts about him. 

I wish I could just throw my brain away when he's around or comes into my mind. The thoughts about him are henious sinful even. I feel guilt when I look at him, is my attraction to him even justfided is it because he is older. Is it representation of lack of something. God why did I need to be a fucking psychology major. 

The mirror on the wall tells me I need to shower very desperately. Dark circles under my eyes portrays my lifestyle of the last three days. My hair even though its short it greasy and loosing volume. Sad to think the middle aged man I'm obbsesed with saw me in such gremlin like state. Turning the shower on I can feel water pour all over my body. How does Reacher live , where is here from? How many questions can I get away with asking him in this interveiw. Yeah theres the prompt Smothers handed out to us with questions like "How was your childhood" or "What do you fear the most" but I feel like asking him anything is so personal. He feels so personal to me and I dont even know him. 

By now steams fooging up my glass if the waters not burning I just dont feel clean. I already know what I want to ask him. 

"Do you have kids"

"Do you have a wife"

"Do you know its impossible for me to be around you and not feel like a whore"

I might have to refrain from that last one. Its insane it really is I have interveiwed tones of people for pyschology the words pour out of me in interveiws, yet im lucky if I dont freeze during this one.  Inch by inch I can feel the water bringing me back to life from the past three days and just for one moment everything was right there was no smother no hot middle aged man who flusters me it was just the warmth. But you know what they say about moments their fleeting. 

I fall agisnt the cold stone wall of my shower. It was perfect maybe Margrave isn't bad when this murder thing blows over I'll consider staying after college. Reaching for the shower handle, I turn  off the shower. 

The air when I step out of the shower is cold making me want to crawl back in and desperatley kling to heat. Luckily I keep the heater on all year around in the dorm but it never feels warm enough. Right now it should be about six right. So wheres my phone to prove that. Looking down at the counter its not there or on the top of the toilet so I must have left it on my bed. 

Then there he was and there I was

Naked with only a towl on my head.

Most people would have left or coverd their eyes maybe turned around. Reachers face was red. His eyes just went to my face. Then lower and lower. There was water running down my body left over from the show.  A moisture emerged between my legs. I didn't even hear him come him he didn't make a peep. "Im sorry, I thought you would come out in clothes or something!" He turned away from me towards a wall. Before he did I notice the throbbing bulge in his pants he was definatley blessed so to speak. While still be turned around he moved his hands over his crotch most likely to hide the massive boner.

Was he attracted to me I mean yeah put any naked girl in front of a man and he'll get hard but he was babying me last night treating me like I couldn't care for myself. So I may have just changed this whole perception of myself. 

Of course hiding a boner doesn't help when a 6'6 man is wearing grey sweatpants and white shirt. "Umm could you go to the hall for a second, your standing right in front of my bra and underwear drawer."

By now my face is porbaly also red. My nipples perked up from the air, I have no idea how much he saw, it was only for a secound but I felt like the whole of me was exposed now. There was no point putting clothes on he just saw the most intimate part of me. "Yeah I'll be out in the hallway." He utterd before slyly shutting the door so no one out there would see me.

What in the world do I wear now. I dont really have time to plan an outfit. Why in the fuck did he show up so early also. Its 6 'o clock I should have another hour and 30 minuites left. No matter how many clothes I sift through I feel like nothing will suffice for the fact that this man saw me bear ass naked. So its a free for all I guess.

I reach for black lace underwear and mesh up bra. Camo yoga pants and a new york dark blue crew neck. No bother trying I guess. I'm sure he will understand the lack of a cute outfit. I make my way torwards the door. Thats when it occurs to me whats on the actual list of questions. The top of list Smothers gave us is fine light stuff even its the bottom that scares me.

See in psychology we belive that what attracts you to a person says more about you. For example if a man likes blondes and only dates them theres a chance he belives sterotypes more than the rest of the population. This works for anyone with a fetish or something along thoes lines. 

But getting him to admit something like that to me is going to be challenge, like I said though he did already approve the list I might throw a few in myself if I'm feeling bolder.

I poke my head out the door. "Its ready now if you still want to do this." All I hear behind me is movment from him then the door closing behind me. "Again" he starts "I'm sorry, I showed up early because I just wanted to get it out of the way best way to handle things that make your nervous."

I left out a soft giggle. "Aww this makes big Reacher nerovous." It then occurs to me that making fun of this man who three times the size of the average person isn't a good idea. "Thoes aren't lightweight questions."

I turn to meet his eyes. Still that ligth crimson blue they were last time. "I know, thats why I ask them, and to be honest" I pull a chair out and sit down and offer him the one infront of me "I need someone who has a handle on their damage and at the same time I can unraval." 

A chuckle leaves him. "Your not going to unreaval anything here." He sounds so sure thats normally a good sign I'm going to suceed. "Thats for me to decide not you Reacher." 

"Like when you cant decide when to stop drinking caffeine and as for that list of questions I dont even awnser thoes when I'm blackout drunk."

I dont blame him for being afraid to answer most would be. Hell he's  seen me naked and now he is telling me about childhood tramua. We might as well be a couple.

God do I love a good puzzle of a man. "Good thing your painfully sober Reacher or should I say Jack." 

His breath changes. "How do you know my first name?" 

"Its public knowlege now on the police record."

"Anyway Jack lets start. Where and how were you raised."

Time passed during our interveiw. The things I learned about him during that time explained everything the protective nature , how he knew I was watching him it even partly explained his lifestyle. I had a seperate paper for the assigment other than the tape recorder I just set out so it could seem more causal it gets people to spill more anyway. 

Apparently Reacher was rasied on a Military base well multiple Military bases and later joined the military himself and did tours in Iraq. I was 5 years old when that war ended. Looking ta him for a moment I relaize how different he was than I am. I felt domestic in his prescnece this man has seen the worst of the worst. He's unlike anyone I have ever interveiw so his anwsers are by nature going to be better. I look down at my paper it has follow up notes with psychology terms all over it and certain sentences he says that I belive mean something. 

"When this is over can I see the paper?" I look down this is a very alarming paper looking at it now its like a diagnosis and conspiracy theories of everything that I percive to be wrong with him. Its like handing someone on big insult. 

"Do you wanna see the paper Reacher, its not a nice paper."

"Well this interveiws about me so I'm sure its not."

"Tell you what when this is over you can have the orgianl copy." 

"On to my next question, now I dont belive you have the ablity to be one but what do you think makes a serial killer Mr.Reacher?"

His face is blank he knew this question was coming I just dont think he thought I was ballsy enough to ask it. 

"I guess someone with a motive to kill and a lack of remorse for what they do." His face was darker now he showed multiple signs of being in deeper thought. "No I dont think I have the ability to be a serial killer Linette, I already know what your about to ask. Things still keep me up at night to this day and I most definaltey have guilt." 

A smile makes it way onto my lips "Well that takes away questions 23 and 24 I guess." 

"Why do you do this?" he says. "Your sitting in your dorm room with a man you chased down to suceed when you know the odds are stacked agisnt you, I looked into Dr.Smothers he has done this to other female students." 

I take my glasses off and set them on the desk. "Well Reacher from what you told me you have hunted many people down and the odds are always agisnt you, so you tell me why do I do this."

There it was agian that tenison from yesterday in the diner. It felt more serious than him putting his hand on my shoulder no I knew who I was sitting in front of now and I think he was getting nervous because he knew that to. 

"Ok next question, something we learned in class that a what a man is attracted to in a women wether thats her looks or personality it says a lot. It also means something how he pursues her."

He shifts in his seat whcich tells me I'm getting closer to what I need. "First my military tramua now I'm talking about my love life." I look down at the paper pretending not to the notice the reason Mr. Jack Reacher had to cross his legs. One very big reason, the same reason I have to the tensions simply that strong. Not to mention the little naked scene earlier didn't help. 

The sun is gone now the sky is painted black and all thats on in my small dorm is my salt lamp and thoes little sunset lamp things you see all over TikTok. This was no mood for a professional interveiw. In a normal setting we would be at a real desk not my small table off of a amazon. There would be brighter lights we would be in better clothing and there definalty wouldn't be a lavender diffuser on the table. 

Because of how comforting my enviorment is he probaly feels right at home. This is nothing like an investigation. Watching him shift in his seat trying to move the his so called "probelm" around so its not noticeable. Theres prominat veins on the side of his neck. I have cracked him but not in the way I wanted to. It doesn't work when your also attracted to the interveiwee. I have my legs in a criss cross now. I have tried to put on a relaxed front as long as possible. We both know how eachother feels that whats making this so hard. 

"I guess tell me why you pursue the women you do". 

"Their drive I guess, the ablity to see things through no matter what happens. Like hunters." Like hunters he added that on pourpose. When people use sentances like that it indicates the thought that they might feel targeted or in turn are trying to target you. That definatley didn't help the wetness growing in between my thighs. That fucker he did that shit on pourpose. "Well that expailns all the loose ends you have for a love life Reacher."

"Excuse me" He's undressing me with his eyes now. Whats worse is he doesn't need to imagine he already knows what there. I needed to say anything to de buff this situation so we dont end up rolling on my bed. Not that I dont want to that would be lovely. But it doesn't look good when your aiming to be a professional psychologist. 

I shift my foucus back to the present moment. "Well you adimited earlier that you dont stay places for long am I too asume that you mantian celibacy." 

"You think I just sleep with women thats ins-"

"Yes" I cut him off.

"I can see that there is no signs that women comforts you regulary just yourself."

"I dont really have time to do that what my job Linette."

"Self proclaimed job but I dont think you can handle solid commitment."

"Are you gonna tie me up and throw tomatoes at me next?"

"I'll let the rest of the town do that."

"Do you always show this much respect to the people you interveiw or this just for me."

The wetness isn't going away. The cat and mouse game is making it worse. For christ sakes does this man know what he is doing. For all I know he could be luring me in. All the task is now is finish the interveiw and keep my clothes on(which I already failed) and dont end up on top of him.

"How about I grab your water or tea. Take a break look over the list of questions again." 

"That fine I'll have tea" He says, I walk behind him to my very tiny kitchen all I really is Lipton packets and sugar and a kettle my neighbor from the bronx gave me when I lived in New York her name was Frances she had a british accent she was quiet sweet. 

I simply set the pot on the stove and left the tea bag in there just like she taught me. One of the worst things about Reacher is I cant hear his movements the bastards as queit as a mouse even though he is the size of a damn race horse. 

I feel something poking at the curve of my ass though. I could see his hands on both sides of the counter and I could feel the heat from his body on my back. "Did you do it on pourpose, inviting me here is there something else you want?"

His hands travled from the counter down to my hips pulling me closer to his member. I can feel everything through thoes grey sweatpants he had  two veins that run down his member and whats even worse is the tip its pointed directly at my entrance with a feeling big enough to rip me apart. The pressure from his hands grabbing  on my hips were almost lifting me off the ground. "Tell me you want something from me Linette and not that this is just and interveiw please pretty girl"

His breathe in my ear isn't making this any better. I can feel the redness on my face growing. The wetness now is horrible I cant think anymore. I try to push my hips back to relive it, trying to push his shaft further into my walls. A moan escapes my lips and I cup my mouth. Reacher lets out a chuckle. "Baby your gonna hurt yourself. Let me." He grabs my hand from my mouth "its ok dont worry about being loud." 

"These need to come off though, I wanna see that ass again. It was perfect the first time I saw it." 

His calloused hands moved under my crewneck to the top of my leggings. His hands god his fucking hands. So rough so perfect.

"Reacher I dont know if we should I want to but this is supposed to be professional."

My leggings were now to my knees. "This is about as professional as its gonna get babe." He tops that sentanc off with an ass slap. A yelp comes form me "Im sorry I didn-"

"Your making noise already, this is gonna be a long night for you." I couldn't see it and only found out later that there was a huge hand print on my ass from him. "Are you gonna be good for me tonight, gonna try to take all of me." 

I felt another slap on my ass this time "Awnser me baby or I'll leave you like this all wet." He got closer to my ear "you would proably need your fingers to fix this, my cock wont be able to stuff you full." 

"You gonna take all of me tonight." "Yes, yes sir."

The words barley came out everything felt like a haze. Then I felt air agisnt my heat and my black lace underwear at my ankles. "Such pretty underwear where were these when you came out of the shower. My little girl likes walking around naked like a whore."

I grip the marble counter. We should have interveiw in public maybe then I could keep my dinigty not that I would trade this for anything though. This man is goin to make me insane and I'm perfectly fine with that.  

"Look at that pretty little cunt , so pink just like I remember." Im going to hate him when he's gone I know it. "Can you count to ten for me smart girl." He reaches to the counter and grabbed my hand and held in a way to sweet for the present situation. "You gonna be a brave girl and try to take me. Its gonna take practice princess"

I feel him hold my hand gentley and caresses my thumb. "You can always tell me to stop ok princess I wont be mad." Thats when I feel it something large poking at my back. I couldn't see it but I know it has a curve I could feel the veins more now he had one very prominant one directly lined up with my heat. Reacher pulled my hips back a little into his shaft I could feel his balls on my upper thigh this man was hung like a fucking horse. "Start conuting smart girl, thats an order."

Being completly honest I wouldn't being lying if some part of me wasn't scared but the other part is extermely excited. This time the words one came to me because I knew them by heart. "One" I breathe waiting for the impalement "Two" I wait a little bit more he is still holding my hand with one hand on my ass. "Three" My hand feel that he was holding and he put it on the base of his member. "Four" The tip ran down my clit. "Five ahh" I reached back for him again and felt pain that can only be descirbed as ripping. I'm not a virgin it shouldn't have hurt that much. For a moment I see an array of colors. "Your doing great Lin" He leans to where he is folded on top of me his hand still on my hip continues pulling me back onto him. "Theres just a little bit more of me to go ok."

Fuck that wasn't all of him my legs are shaking and tears are welling up in my eyes. "It its hurts." 

"It wont in a couple minuites babe I promise." I didnt kniw it was antomically impossible for a man to be this size. What the fuck did they feed him as a kid. "Keep counting princess." His tone was more demanding now the pressure coming from in between my hips was going to breake me. I breathe in "Six" and out his legnth slowy begins to move I can feel the tip hitting my cervix. "Seven" the only holding me up right now was his hand on my left hip. "Ah-h eight" 

"I'm almost there two more number pretty girl." This man needs to seriously invest in some fucking lube. "Nine" I begin to make try to push my hips back on him. He stands up straighter and firm so I can steady myself. Reacher lets out a gasp "Brave girl,  maybe you need to be a soldier like me huh?"

"Ten" He pushed the last inch in for me forcefully. "Lets see if you can walk in the morning while I'm still here. Hold the counter for tightly ok brave girl." My feet leave the tile and he now holding me off the ground by my hips. With both hands on my hips I can feel the starting of the thrust. "So tigth princess so beautiful why has no one came and swpet you up yet."

Each thrust felt like a rope tightneing around me. It felt like fireworks the grand fucking fanalie. "Your gonna make it hard to leave sweetie."

God knew Reacher felt stupid. He has been thinking about Linette since the diner. He was so  enamored her this tiny little thing had been watching him and didn't know until the last second. People who trained for years couldn't get past Reacher so why could she. So much younger than him to god and so pretty and untained. Yes he knew she wasn't gonna be able to walk tommrow and she was thankful for him. Deep in the back of his head he wonderd why he wanted to baby her so much the girl is smarter than any kid her age. Fuck she could rival him. But she still needed someone to take care of her. He had a plan she can be so much more than she is now.  

The thrust were getting more agressive now, is he mad at me? The moans slipping in array of a hot mess. "Cry for me princess, show me how good I make you feel." Sudenly I felt release not the one like last night no this was real release. The tenison left and part me was filled that I didn't even know existed. "Did my pretty girl finish." 

I can feel my eyes widening theres a warmth in my womb from Reacher. Thick hot ropes shot through me. Balls where shoved to my ass and he was bent over me. We dont have any fucking protection does he relazie what he just did. "Sorry sweetie your so tight it gets hard to pull at fast when you feel that good."

"Jack we didnt use a condom and Im not on birth control." I turn to grab his arm even though he is still holding me up. "Dont worry your not fertile until next week, then I'll wear one." Was this man tracking my menstrating cycle. How the fuck does he find this stuff out. 

He pulls out of me and lies me on my bed. Thats when it occured to me that my tape reccorder is still on. "Umm so Im going to have to cut like half the interveiw." I can see Reacher over there lingering my the kettle and now pouring in into two cups. "Why is that" he turned to me "You got some key information out me, dont get me started on that paper." Was he for real? "Umm it includes us fucking!" 

He smiles to himself pour sugar in his tea. "I turned it off when I asked you to make tea."  A moment of silence lingers for a second. All I feel is warmth being wrapped up in my comforter. I feel like one big burritto. "You big bastard." 

He sets the tea on my nightstand. "You my friend had a kettle like that she actually works with my she is a P.I" 

I pause for a moment this man just railed me infact I may not be able to walk tommrow and he is talking about a godforsaken kettle. "Yeah I actually got it from my neighbor in New York, she taught me how to use it to her name was frances pretty cool lady if you ask me."

"Hmm" he smiles to himself "small world." As if I could casually know any whackjobs that he does. I lay my head back and glance at my bra and underwear on the floor. I took off my bra after Reacher layed me down and decided to swaddle me in my comforter. Now Im just one big naked burrito. 

My bed shifts next to me again how is this bastard to quiet when he is garguatuan. "You need to sleep well tonight so you can heal for the morning Linette." He digs himself under the blanket and pulls me to his chest. I had no idea this man could be not a prick not to mention cuddling. I try to wrap my legs around but now that the aftershock of sex was gone and the in between of my legs hurt. "Ahh it never hurt like this before." 

"Im sorry it will be gone in a few days".

"A few days!!" "I feel like a virgin"

I glance over at him with his head on my pillow laughing. I snuggle my head cloes to his chest , so warm so safe. 

"Goodnight Reacher thank you for the interveiw."

He puts his hand on my head and pets my hair 

"Good night Lenny'

He pepperd my forehead with a kiss and the slumber took me.

[sorryimananti-romantic]

I don't know where it all began. Actually, I do, but a part of me doesn't want to accept it. Doesn't want to accept that the distance wasn't always there. Doesn't want to acknowledge the existence of a friendship before it all toppled over. Before the silence between our conversations shifted from comfortable to suffocating. Before our small world, which we meticulously constructed memory by memory, divided into two and gradually drifted apart, slowly but surely. Before the gap between our separate worlds became so vast that even our orbits couldn't save us. When did our sandcastle begin to crumble? Did waves erode the walls we built, bit by bit? Was it not strong enough to withstand the test of time? Where did it begin to crumble? From the top, or from the bottom? Was I the cause of it, or was it you? Maybe we were never meant to be. Even as I spent every day, every second picking up the fallen sand and trying my best to fit it back into our cherished sandcastle, it kept collapsing. Too fast, too much. My desperate remedies never worked.

the prompt was "Write a story titled Desperate Remedies" and it seemed pretty fun

icl this is one of my biggest fears like ion think i could ever handle becoming distant with my best friend and knowing that theres nothing i can do to fix it

damn gurl you wrote sth bc it started feeling way too personal 😭 good job there pal 😭😭

almost wrote a whole essay about how being distance has ended so many of my relos but you know how to prevent it and save it? effort. from both sides. in some cases you're the only one making the effort (where it hurts like hell lmao) and in other cases they're making effort but you don't see it and you feel the guilt afterwards.

so my friend, effort! if you stay in contact and just keep checking on them despite physical and emotional distance, they remember you. i can attest to that bc my oldest childhood friend and i had quite a journey with being distant and well... physically distanced too lmao. we're not the best of friends anymore but 11 years of minimal contact and we've realised that we actually do care about each other, no expectations.

tldr don't be scared and do NOT be scared of putting in effort for the ppl you don't want to end up being distant with. if they don't appreciate tho... end it 💀

[riddle-me-ri]

k hear me out we NEED the directors cut for taking care of Jervis through his depression

It has already been a huuuge experiment with his character but maybe theres still smth left to say u know👀👉🏻👈🏻

HNNGGG *vibrating with elated joy* IM SO GLAD YOU ASKED ANON when I saw this ask game I was HOPING someone would ask about Love and Suds! Because I HAVE A LOT TO DISCUSS HNNGGG

Because of that there's a read more tab lmao

I'm so sorry I know its a lot but just please bear with me because I HAVE THOUGHTS AND FEELINGS I need to express lol.

So Jervis is incredibly interesting to me lmao.

I've been in and out of the Batman/Rogue fandom going on about six years. I've always wanted to like Jervis (I loved Alice in Wonderland as a child shush I still do plus mind control?? Hell yeah) but given his controversy and everyone just sweeping him under the rug, aside from BTAS and Arkhamverse, I felt like I was slowly getting a grasp on him but never quite got there.

Now fast forward after a year and a half out of the fandom and thwarting myself back in I am here and I've met a couple genuine Jervis fans for like years, fans, shout out to @march-harrigan and @jervis-tetch-my-beloved and when I read their work and thoughts I was like...Okay so it's not just me that thinks this...it was very affirming to see others got the same read on him.

Because I say this with 0 hesitation, Jervis can be a tricky mad lad to write for. I mean extremely (Jon moreso for me lately, stoicism isn't my strong suit but I'm working on it) difficult.

A lot of people have a bad habit of infantilizing him or making him out to be weaker than he is. Yes he's a wee mad lad with a penchant for rhymes, hats, and tea.

But he's also a murderer, kidnapper, manipulator, and a neuroscientist...he's one of the smartest bastards in the room but because he acts playful, and whimsical people misjudge and underestimate him

Also, Jervis has shown the capability of remorse (again varying iterations but he does seem the usual suspect to feel any sort of guilt whenever he's finally lucid) because of that, I felt a compulsion to do something DC writers are fucking terrified to do....actually give a rogue hope. They tried to reform Eddie but that didn't last (mostly cause of his own compulsions that were never properly addressed...poor baby..)

Now I know for many, a lot of these characters are BEYOND redeemable, Jervis included (y'know kidnapping, murder, mind control...yeah) and they're not inherently good people, but some rogues were once before...

And I truly do think if Jervis had a positive consistent in his life that was able to make reality a Wonderland, he wouldn't need the fantasy, he wouldn't need the delusion.

That's where the idea for Love and Suds came from.

I've written for Jervis a couple times before Love and Suds and when I tell you I had to stop myself from literally doing a character deep dive for a smut prompted request...I had to reel back A BUNCH. I would be almost 1k words in and remember oohhh they're supposed to be fucking goddamnit and have to edit the shit out of it.

So I knew I had to do something just to prevent it from happening again. Slowly but surely the plot came to me, but I was hesitant. Again, I didn't want to infantilize him, but I did want the reader to take care of him. Hence why a lot of the time in the story Jervis is scoffing at himself because he's in reality and he's ultra aware of what's going on but like he's also selfish and isn't going to pass up a chance to finally be clean.

Which is something else I hope I made clear was that Jervis was very much in reality during the entirety of the story whilst in his depression...hence why he wasn't rhyming, he wasn't absolutely appalled by the state of his home (scattered saucers, dirty tea cups everyone some broken after being thrown at the wall, hats with broken seams and holes in them, things I didn't really get a chance to describe). I'm sure you've figured that out but just wanted to confirm it.

It's one of those fics I hold near and dear to my heart.

Because one it was one of those fics I had going around in my head that I finally put onto paper and it was exactly how I envisioned it (its only happened with two other stories)

And two... I didn't realize how much it was wanted/needed? I knew since it wasn't a request from anyone it wasn't going to be everyone's fancy...but like the amount of feedback I got exclaiming that this is exactly what they want to see for Jervis? This is how they see him? Like I didn't realize that was something that people were looking for!

As far as if there's anything more to the story...when I tell you I have thought of sequel ideas for Love and Suds I have thought about it immensely...

I have a couple scenarios were Jervis returns the favor to Reader, one where Jervis comes to properly court the reader but overhears a heated argument with Reader defending Jervis to Batman, like the possibilities are ENDLESS but I also don't want to like...ruin it either you know? Too many may spoil it or make it bad?

But yeah...so sorry this is so long lmao if you guys do want more content regarding the set up of Love and Suds let me know! I may still write a couple connected drabbles here and there for a comfort project for myself but it's also good to know if you guys would be into it too! If tumblr could let us all have polls I'd put it in a poll but nooooo

Thanks for reading all of this lmao and thank you for asking anon I am so glad to get this all off my chest lmao

[ofstoriesandstardust]

ooh for the drabble prompt thing theres a few that i think could be fun, up to you if you want to do just one or combine them. 5 “I didn’t mean it like that.” 19 “Just breathe, sweetheart.” and 44 “What’s your 5-year plan for this?”. personally im a rooster girlie so id love it with rooster and rebel but whatever gets your creative juices flowing

prompts from this list of drabbles!

characters from same mistakes-verse

5. "I didn't mean it like that."

19. "Just breathe, sweetheart."

44. "What's your 5-year plan for this?"

warnings: swearing, angst, miscommunication, canon-established insecurities, idk if this is obvious but this happens early on the timeline

word count: 1,114

It hadn’t started out as a fight. Really, it hadn't. You’re not sure what had even set the two of you off but now you were standing in the kitchen of the Bradshaw home, arguing with your boyfriend. 

Squabbling was more like it. 

Whatever had set the two of you off, you were certain it was insignificant. Both of you had had long days, were tired and stressed, and yet you had continued to pick and pick and pick, ever-searching for a reason to push him away. Ever-trying to give him a reason to leave, to take off, to prove what you’d always known: that eventually, sooner or later, he’d leave. He’d wake up and realize what you’d known all along, that you weren’t good enough, that he deserved more, better, than what you could offer him. 

You think you may have finally done it this time. 

“Jesus Christ, you make this so hard sometimes.” He groans, running a hand through his hair. He looks tired, worn to the bone, and you swallow the guilt. 

This is your fault. 

“If I make it so hard, then you should go find someone who makes it easy.” You shoot back and his eyes narrow. 

“You act like you don’t even want to be with me half the time.” 

Well that stung. 

You scoff, deflecting from the hurt that had just ripped across your heart. “It’s hard to act like I want to be with you when I’m not even sure you want to be in this relationship in the first place! I mean, c’mon, what’s your 5-year plan for this? We both know this isn’t a forever thing for you.” 

He throws his hands up in the air. “Here we go again. Here we go, always doubting me. Always acting like I’m not serious about you, like I don’t want to be with you. Makes me feel like shit sweetheart.” The way he says sweetheart drips of sickly sweetness, poison beneath the words, and it makes your jaw tighten. He turns back to the counter, resting his palms against it. He sighs, squeezing his eyes shut.“You know what, maybe it’s best we take some time apart.”

Oh. 

You swallow, turning your head away from him as tears prick at your eyes. “Fine.” Your voice is thick with tears, making them impossible to hide, and he turns his head to look at you, his features softening. 

“Honey-”

“No, if you want me to leave, that’s fine.” You say, straightening up and crossing your arms.

After all, this is what you had wanted... right?

He sighs, moving closer to you. “I just think we need some space from each other.”

Wasn’t space usually what they asked for before they broke up with you? A delaying of the inevitable? 

You take a step back from him, moving away from his outstretched arm. “Whatever you want.” Your voice is tight and you know you’re not fooling him. 

“Honey, I just think-”

“You know what, if you’re going to break up with me, just have the balls to do it now. Don’t save my feelings by drawing it out. Just break my heart and go.” 

The cracks are beginning to form around your heart and more tears rush to the surface at the words. You bite your lip to keep them from falling, willing yourself to save at least a little bit of your pride and dignity. You can lick your wounds later, but right now... right now you needed to be strong. 

This is what you had wanted... right? 

Confusion flickers across his face. “What’re you talking about?”

You let out a watery chuckle. “God, are you really going to make me spell it out for you? Fine, if you’re so cruel.” You take a shaky breath, trying to steel yourself but it does little to alleviate the tears that are coming on fast. In fact, it only makes the words harder to get out. “You know, space is what you ask for from someone you know you’re gonna break up with but don’t have the heart to do it yet. Time apart is what you tell someone when you know you’ll never figure things out but pretend anyways. Jesus, I’ve always known our relationship was on a timer but at least- at least have the decency to let me go properly.” 

The tears take over and your chest crumples in on itself as you shoulders begin to heave with sobs. The tears slips down your cheeks, the drops leaving tracks in their wake. You want to wipe away the tears, turn and leave, but all you can do is bow your head as you continue to cry.

You hear him walk closer to you, gingerly touching you. When you don’t move away, don’t flinch back, he slowly wraps his arms around you, pulling you close to his chest. The tears are falling on to his shirt now, creating a warm, salty, wet patch as one of his hands come up to tangle in your hair. The other settles on your shoulder, gently rubbing back and forth. “Just breathe sweetheart.” He whispers, tucking his head on top of yours.

You’re not sure how long he stands there, holding you, letting you cry, but he doesn’t speak again until the sobs have subsided, turning from full body heaves to hiccups to nothing but shaky breathing. 

“I didn’t mean it like that.” He finally whispers, never once letting you go. “I just meant that we should take time apart tonight because we’re both angry and tired and we weren’t going to accomplish anything by fighting with one another.” 

Oh. 

Well now you felt a little stupid. You swallow, embarrassed, and try to pull away from him. His hands fall to your waist, not letting you go far. “Sorry, I’ll... yeah, I’ll leave. We can talk about this later.” 

“Sweetheart...” 

You swallow, feeling the tears threaten to well back up. “No, really it’s okay. You’re right. I’m sorry I...” You take a shuddering breath. “’M sorry I had a meltdown. I’ll head home.” 

His hands fall from your waist, his eyes looking you over as you take a step back. “I mean, if you want to go...” 

“You’re right, we’re not gonna accomplish nothing tonight. So maybe you’re right that it’s best we spend the night apart.” He lets out his own deep breath, looking up at the ceiling as you move past him to grab your keys off the counter. “I’ll see you tomorrow. I love you.” 

“I love you too.” He responds without turning to face you. You sigh, swallowing back another wave of tears. 

“Okay, goodnight.” You whisper softly. 

“Night.”

[malewifehenrycooldown]

💙💙 maybe 2 :)

SKSKSSKK THANK YOU LIA

Alrighty, so I'm mostly gonna talk about Killer7 for this ask. This is mostly stuff I would want if my self insert was an actual character in the game. WARNING A LITTLE LONG LOL.

💙 Scenario #1: In-game interactions with characters

In the early stages of the game, and throughout, the player doesn't really have a lot of context regarding this Ashleigh character or rather they have to meet them under a very specific requirement.

Let Dan Smith die. The game operates in a weird way where a personality can die but using Garcian Smith, he can retrieve and revive the character. This is the only way the player will find out about Ashleigh early in the game. If any other personality dies, Ashleigh will not appear as she has no connection to them, which will give them a surprise the moment the Chapter 'ENCOUNTER' rolls around (they have a much bigger role there).

When Garcian locates the body/remains of Dan, there will be an orange triangular prompt with white text that reads 'Ashleigh' will appear before you retrieve Dan's remains. Selecting the prompt first will take you to a screen where you get a much better look at her character model.

She's dressed in late 1990s attire, is transparent/ghostly like Iwazuru or Travis Bell. Her audio dialogue in both American and Japanese releases is garbled, similar to Kess BloodySunday's audio dialogue but with a more feminine tone.

The written dialogue will go like this:

'It's a shame really. A sad and painful way to die. You should really be more careful next time.'

It's not really stated whether this is directed to the player, or to Dan Smith. They don't actually seem to address or even acknowledge Garcian Smith, at least not at first. When you revive Dan he will say this when you tune into his channel station on the character select in Harman's Room:

'It wasn't the worst way to go out. But yours was much worse.'

There's also a 25% chance you might get this dialogue if you happened to 'look' and skip through the other character channels - and you end up with Dan's channel at the end.

"...years its been since I've seen them, and the time I do, I just so happen to lay dying. How pathetic."

It isn't stated what he's talking about, but players who catch on easily might make the connection that he's referring to this 'Ashleigh' character. That last bit is said in a more.. guilty tone. There's some anger behind it but there's a tone of guilt to it.

If you happen to have carelessly let Dan die ten or so plus times (why would you?!), Ashleigh's dialogue will say this:

"You're really that eager to see me? My dear I wish I could be flattered but don't do this to yourself! It hurts watching you die..."

but theres a 50% chance you'll get this piece of dialogue:

"Does it hurt seeing the people you care about die over an over again? Not even one bit? That's a shame, because you seem so tired and over it. But that's not my place to judge you, we all play a part in this world whether we like it or not. But how will you allow yourself to play said role, is what matters."

This dialogue does seem more directed at Garcian Smith, who emphasizes a lot that he's 'a cleaner' not an assassin, and he's pretty distanced when it comes to his work, not wanting to get attached to the people he's working with.

Again once you revive Dan Smith at the character selection screen in Harman's Room, you'll get one of these few responses:

"After all these years you still haven't changed a bit, the same ol' journalist worrying over the little things on a piece of paper."

"If it hurts so much, why not go join the angels above? You're better off up there than being stuck in hell down here."

*slight laugh* "I'm flattered that you're looking out for me, of all people! I guess that favor of yours was returned after all."

"If I could. I would like to see you again."

I think if people who are still kind of rushing through the game a little carelessly may end up getting a few unexpected prompts and scolding form the characters in game to slow down and take their time with the game.

I don't really have much else for this part tbh.

💙 Scenario #2: Other character's thoughts on Ashleigh.

In-game, other characters can be talked to and they talk and mention other characters who are important and relevant to the plot or have a very specific role to look out for.

Iwazuru, is your main guide through the game, and he gives a lot of hints throughout your journey. If you've met Ashleigh early in the game by letting Dan die, and you continue your playthrough as usual - and come across Iwazuru, he'll have this to say:

"Oh Master, this cannot be. It is too sad. Very sad and depressing. There is no such thing as a Happy Ending anymore. Not in this life. At least their death was peaceful compared to his."

When Iwazuru appears in Harman's room you can ask him for tips, or wisdom. in one section, you'll come across the topic of 'Ashleigh' and clicking on it will give you this insight:

"Oh Master, this cannot be. It is too sad. It is very depressing. The Hellion was ripped away from the writer too soon. Quite a passionate writer, yes but at the cost of their own safety. Admirable. Dangerous but admirable. No one could ever lay a hand on them even if people tried. Stab! goes the Pencil and she had the last laugh. Truth and Justice go hand in hand. Poetic, don't you think?"

Note that this is probably on the more cryptic side of Iwazuru's tips, and most of the information is really just a chekov's gun until you play the chapter ENCOUNTER.

Other character mentions can occur in dialogue but its usually prompted if you happen to be playing a character other than Dan because Dan already knows about their existence, but other Killer7 members do not.

Travis Bell, has this to say about Ashleigh. He would be wearing a shirt with the term 'DEADLY' on it and it's in purple text.

"Books are good. Newspapers are better. They say they are irrelevant but there's nothing better than a investigation story. She's a good writer, honest. Honesty is a good characteristic to have in this day and age. It's better that she's not here to see how dishonest this world has gotten. It would put her in a mind of despair.

I'll let you in on a little secret, off the grid. The Hellion got too close to them, but his selfishness gave in. He got burned because of that. I don't think he'll ever learn his lesson. Perhaps he doesn't need to learn it after all."

The last time you meet Susie Sumner and in the off chance you happen to play as Dan Smith for this section to move the cars, you'll get this from the disembodied head:

"Well, Hello Mr. Dan Smith. (´ー`)ﾉ Muggy night isn't it? Rather exhilarating isn't it? The perfect night for a Summer Date! Say, you had one too, didn't you? What happened that night? ┐(‘～` )┌ Actually, don't answer that, we all know what happened. Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop! goes the bullets! The Bastard laughs, and you're all alone. She's left in the cold and it froze her for the rest of her life. (｡╯︵╰｡) I almost pity you. Almost...."

"I'll let you in on a secret of mine. Big fan of her work! especially when they almost took the bastard's eye out! The Bastard had it coming!ヽ(*・ω・)ﾉ She should've stabbed his XXXX! That would have been funnier! She's no Susie, but her guts, I do admire. I despise men, but you are undeniably lucky that I don't hate you. Not doing it for your sake, I'm doing that because I like her."

note that Susie Sumner is a really passive aggressive character and she has no filter, so she's really speaking her mind when she's saying all of that.

That's kinda all that I have in mind in regards to in-game character interactions if Ashleigh Sawyer was in the game themself.

[babysizedfics]

Virgil moves and talks so quietly that no one hears him (and he hates it)

virgil is naturaly very gentle in pretty much everything he does. he moves so quietly around the house because he wears socks and always walks on his tiptoes (which is an autistic trait) and he also speaks so softly hardly above a whisper unless he's laughing or yelling that he always scares people who didnt know he was right behind them.

and it sort of upsets vee. not so much that he moves silently but doesnt like that he accidentally scares people and he really doesnt like that people can't hear him when he speaks - when he was first created as a four year old he was completely mute and it took at least a year for him to finally learn to speak at five years old and even then he was still selectively mute and only semi verbal otherwise.

so he's had to deal with not being able to communicate his needs effectively a lot. he still goes mute sometimes if he is overwhelmed and when he is regressed he is semi verbal. so he feels sensitive about the fact that even when he finally CAN communicate with words most of the time, he feels like he can't do it right because he cant force himself to speak loud enough.

LOGAN

like one morning logan will be waiting for the coffee machine to fill his mug and virgil will come into the kitchen and say 'good morning.' when logan doesnt respond virgil gets nervous that maybe he did something wrong and his mama is angry with him

so he doesnt try to speak again just in case it would annoy logan and he moves around silently on his toes getting breakfast

it isnt until logan hears the fridge door open and close that he looks back and his eyes fall on vee. virgil freezes a little but logan smiles softly at him. 'good morning virgil. when did you get here?'

'uh a couple minutes ago'

'oh my apologies, i didnt hear you come in' then logan turns back to his coffee and picks up his mug.

'i said good morning' vee whispers, worried that it would sound like complaining. but logan doesnt even hear him say it so vee gives up on talking and just sits next to logan for breakfast in comfortable silence (thats underlaid by shame on his part)

PATTON AND ROMAN STORIES ARE BELOW THE CUT BC THIS GOT LONG

PATTON

patton will be doing the dishes and humming and virgil will tiptoe in and say 'hi dad' but patton doesnt hear it over the running water and keeps washing up. virgil fidgets a bit on the spot, anxious that it feels like he's eavesdropping on patton even though he isn't trying to at all

he tries a couple more times to say hi to his dad when theres less noise coming from the plates in the sink but still theres no response. so he tries to speak louder 'um dad, im behind you'

and for him it was louder than usual but for other people its more like a slightly quiet soft voice... so patton doesnt hear him still, even when he turns off the water and dries his hands.

virgils heart hammers in his chest because patton is gonna turn around and think virgil was spying on him even though virgil tried to speak to him a few times by this point. 'please dont jump' virgil whispers desperately, knowing that he's essentially talking to himself now

and of course when patton finally turns around he does jump and he yelps loudly at seeing virgil and even though virgil expected it it startles him and he flinches and his eyes immediately water (he gets really annoyed by how easily he cries sometimes)

patton sees it and quickly calms down and goes over to pull him into a hug 'oh im sorry honey, i didnt hear you come in. did i scare you?'

virgil tries to breath evenly to stop his chest from shaking when he speaks. 'i - um i tried to talk to you... a few times' virgil mumbles into his shoulder

and patton smiles a little because he's kind of soft for how gentle virgil is all over including his voice and he apologises again and kisses virgils head and they move on.

it helps virgil not feel so bad about it when it happens with pstton because he always holds him and kisses his head in apology, plus patton finds his quiet voice endearing and at least thats a positive because virgil gets fawned over by his dad a bit

ROMAN

but the worst is when it happens with roman.

roman will be in his room singing while he works on some artwork. not even that loud, just singing softly as he concentrates on his paintbrush. virgil was feeling lonely and bored and kind of jittery and anxious for no reason in his room and usually roman lets him watch when he's doing art and it calms virgils anxiety and is fun to just sit there in silence in romans company.

so he knocks on romans door gently and peeks his head in. roman is faced away from him at his easel on the other side of the room still singing under his breath a little. virgil tiptoes into the room and calls 'roman? can i watch?'

theres no response so virgil takes a deep breath and tries to speak out 'ro? is it ok if i come in?' and he thought it was loud but clearly not because roman isnt even singing at full volume and he still doesnt react to him at all.

virgil actually feels that familiar anxious swirling of dread in his tummy now. he hates not being heard when he does want to speak and he hates that it always shocks someone and that they must think he's sneaking around on purpose.

he starts clawing and pulling at the hem of his skirt and tiptoes closer, only a few feet behind roman now. he tugs his sweater sleeves down and bites his lip. roman still doesnt notice him. virgil takes a shaky breath 'roman, please' and it was actually quieter because hes so nervous now of what will happen when roman hears him and sees he has come in without permission... he hates this.

roman still doesnt show any sign of knowing virgil is there... so virgil tentatively reaches up - his hand shaking - to poke romans shoulder with one finger. 'ro?' he whispers, hating that his voice trembles

roman screams and immediately jumps and spins around. 'dear f*cking zeus! Virgil what the f*ck!' he yells, eyes wide and almost angry

and virgil can't help it. the yelling shocked him so much and roman is so much bigger and towering over him and he looks angry and now vee is shaking and his vision is blurry with tears.

roman instantly backs down, the shock on his face melting to sympathy. 'ah sh*t, i'm sorry vee...' and he puts his palette and brush down and gently places his hands on virgils arms in an attempt to comfort him 'i didnt mean to yell, im sorry.' he says gently, rubbing his hands over virgils arms 'why didnt you tell me you were here, titch?'

'i d-did!' virgil cries, his voice thick with tears 'i tri-ied to - to talk and you didn't h-h--' he cuts himself off with a strangled cry. he's just as shocked as roman by how hard he's crying

roman feels awful and immediately pulls vee into a tight hug 'no no its okay vee, shh. im really sorry i didnt hear you'

vee just sniffles into romans chest and wraps his fingers in romans sweatshirt tightly. a cry comes out thats more like a little squeak and without realising it his thumb slips into his mouth

roman pulls back from the hug to see his little brother sucking his thumb. sometimes virgil sucks his thumb as an adult for comfort so he has to check 'vee, are you feeling tiny?'

vee doesnt really understand the question and tugs at romans sweatshirt and whines, looking up at him with wet pleading eyes

and roman feels his heart break a little. he feels so guilty that he apparently scared virgil into his regression.

'okay baby, here we go' he leans down to wrap his arms around virgils back and under his thighs and hoists virgil onto his hip. then he sighs 'let's go find your papa to change you'

'bipa?' vee squeaks through his remaining tears. he sniffles again and roman feels guilt wash over him again

'yeah, clever baby, papa's gonna get you a diaper' he whispers and wipes his thumb under vees eye to catch another falling tear

vee whimpers quietly and buries his face on romans shoulder so roman takes it as a prompt to start moving and carrying virgil out of his room to find patton

roman really would have liked for adult virgil to watch him paint but he thinks its all his fault for yelling that vee regressed from fear. so he decides painting can wait, he wants to make it up to his brother with lots of cuddes and playing games to make the baby giggle for the rest of the day

[sickficsforthesoul]

ok but imagine: the sicke is sick (shocking!) but they have to go outside to get medicine for there stomach bug. luckily their best friend/s/o helps them get it. but yk they dk which to get, and they had the bug for nearly a week so they had to come. while walking their they felt like vomiting. luckily they had plastic bags . but they didnt close their bag properly so the bags flew out . so they dont have amy more. they just ignored it , thinking they were just so used to that feeling they were just imagining it.they continued walking ,the place they were walking was kinda busy.uh how much they hated ppl. they started to feel their vomit coming, they asked ;; h-hey (their best friend/ s/o) I dont feel to good.. I might throw up.. their s/o or best friend quickly finding a quiet place or a place with no ppl. they found 1 . helping the sickie walk their and asking if they have their bags. they said 'no. I l-lost them them' starting a coughing fit. their friend or s/o searched their bag for anything yo hold their vomit. all of a sudden they heard them throw up. some people(3) passing by saw it . and just watched. uh they hated ppl looking. their caretaker rubbing their back as they throw up. after 4 minutes of pain , the ppl watching left. the sickie stood up and just put their body weight on the caretaker. they just wanted to sleep but noo they had to get medicine. 'can we go home.t-too many ppl watching , I hate this' the caretaker laughed awkwardly. 'ik you hate this but we need to get medicine. or else you wont get better.' 'uh fine.' why dont we just take the bus there? 'are you crazy do you want me 2 vomit there??' 'theres a convince store near. we can get some plastic bags and sore throat candies. and water.' the sickie didnt answer. just hugged the caretaker arm to stop them from falling. after getting the stuff they waited for the bus. pt 1 end - ¿ ¡ ૮₍ 𖦹 ˕ ×` ₎ა ! ? /🧛🏻‍♀️

while waiting they double bagged the plastic bags to prevent in from seeping thru. one the bus came. the sickie regretted going on already feeling dizzy once they sat down , they sat at the back where no1 sits (although that would make them more dizzer, but they didnt know that) after 5 minutes of the ride (there was some traffic. normally itd take 10 minutes. but since there is traffic they didnt how long they'd have to wait.) "[caretakers name]...while wet coughing.mm candy." they rushed to give the candy. it soothed their throat for 5 minutes until making them dizzy . lying down on the caretaker,while they play with their hair. they fell asleep. after 20 minutes (still in traffic) they woke up to the bus driving. they woke up and asked for water. they drank the water in small sips. they didnt vomit. the they drank it quickly before spitting it out. then coughing. they nearly threw up. swallowing it . asking while coughing for the 'bag'. they grabbed it and held on it and tried getting it out bc they were very nauseous. they couldn't. until the bus continued moving. they're grip to it was very weak. the bus suddenly moving made their stomach growl. and letting of their bag to hold on their stomach. the care taker asked "what's wrong ???? you let go... r u gonna ..." "no. stop.u will make me.stop.talking abt it"(they hated vomit so much thinking abt it makes them gag) the sickie was shaking. they messed up dropping the bag and it flew away. they caretaker getting their jacket just incase yk they vomit. after the bus stops again. a couple and a 2 ppl (4 alltogether)decided to sit in the back. their stomach hurts so much... they started crying. the bus started moving more . 2 more stops till their stop. they gagged. letting go of their hand on their face. "I'm gonna-" the caretaker getting the jacket and hugging the sickie to cover them . they threw up on the caretaker. the couple moved away in disgust whilst the 2 other ppl stayed. just on their phone. "ppl r looking...." "I want to leave.. " "''dont worry , no1 is looking'' the care taker grabbed their bag looking for a (idk the word but it's like a towel but not , you stick it on some1 face and it cools them down) they place it on the sickie. they sickie just dry heaving at this point. they said "sorry.." it's ok. - ¿ ¡ ૮₍ 𖦹 ˕ ×` ₎ა ! ? / 🧛🏻‍♀️ , which haikyuu character do you think this is? also very bad prompt :). again,not a request.

I think the word you want is cold compress? As for the sickie of this situation, I'm thinking Kageyama and the Seijoh Four (Oikawa, Iwaizumi, Kumini, and Kindaichi, btw) would be fun with Kageyama as the sickie. Maybe Kageyama got sick suddenly while hanging out with them, and they reluctantly take care of him because they agreed to lunch, not nursing Kageyama back to health. Then you get the reluctant caretaking trope in there too, which is great in situations like this.

Adding the Seijoh Four also means that you can have different types of caretakers all in one scenario. For example, Kindaichi is a terrible caretaker. He panics and makes things worse instead of better. On the other hand, Iwaizumi is a great caretaker from caring for Oikawa whenever he does something stupid. Oikawa and Kunimi are somewhere in the middle. I think they'll just try to stay calm and do whatever Iwaizumi tells them too for the most part. Oikawa probably does more because Kunimi also has to calm Kindaichi down too.

And then we have Kageyama, who's super embarrassed that the others have to take care of him. Kageyama hates telling his team when he's sick, so having people from another team caring for him is mortifying for him. On top of being embarrassed, Kageyama is also really sick, and his guilt and embarrassment make him feel so much worse than he normally would. Put this all together, and you basically have the formula for one of my favorite sickfic styles. What do you guys think? Do you agree with me?

[she-3po]

#96 “What made you think I cared for you?”

angsty prompt. i literally havent written in years so this is wild and just a warm up i barfed out of my butthole. theres not a lot of backstory of like where he is wandering around lmaooo its more of just his inner monologue and i didnt rly try to work out the setting too much.

his voice was hoarse. it felt pretty fucking sore, all things considered. but this wasnt even the worst part. not even close. he took a few steps forward and stopped, his beskar tips dinging softly on the sheet rock. the sun cascaded down overhead. he was sweating. he had been searching for days for the kid. his kid. he had lost count of how long it had been since he’d seen him. his mind wandered back and forth between the past and present. he was lost once. he might be lost now, without grogu. 

he wasn’t really aware of the love he so craved. it was subliminal. lingering just under the surface, like his flesh beneath the beskar. it was drilled into him from long ago, he is one of many. a hive mind. its survival. its necessary. vital. his emotions lay tucked into him. its all he’d ever known. well, almost.

maybe he was dehydrated, but his mind strayed even farther still. he did remember love. his parents loved him. he cared for them deeply. it was one of the last times he smiled and truly felt warmth from within. he couldn’t even allow himself to think about grogu, and if the kid knew how much he cared. he loved him. when he saw that raw innocence, he saw himself. he wanted to give grogu what he never had: a loving family. a supporting father. a big fucking bear hug. his eyes welled with fat tears at the thought of hugging the tiny goober, and he knew he had to knock that shit off. crying right now could mean dehydrating even worse. he was already losing his mind.

how scared the kid must be. how confused. he had never been diagnosed with PTSD but this shit was invoking some devilish panic attacks. he was a child just like grogu. but when he searched his new family for love, he was met with a cold, bitter disdain. The armorer raised him to be a warrior. to fight. literally trained against everything he felt in his soul. he wasn’t allowed to love, to feel. he was only allowed to follow the way. no questions asked. there had only been one time he made that mistake. 

-------

Din’s dusty bootstraps slapped into the dirt as his small footsteps descended into the mandalorian hideout. he had just finished training with his hands. he hadn’t been a foundling for long, he was still trying to process the horrific remnants of trauma passed to him from the war. he was only a child. but he was smart. cunning. although he was riddled with guilt, shame, and fear, he was also strangely peaceful. even as a child he was taught by his father to never act on impulse. he was a little strange anyway, and unlike most other foundlings, his thoughts and reactions were very carefully calculated. 

this particular day, though. it was rough. he had been triggered immensely by something seemingly trivial, as PTSD often does. it just jumped right out and surprised him. suddenly little Din went from punching the trainer bag, to spiraling into his own dark thoughts, memories of his parents being slaughtered just outside the shelter. he could hear them, as clear as the first time. 

he ran. 

he ran to the woman he thought would be there for him. the armorer. his feet padded along the damp concrete as he ran right to her. he held onto her leg. he was so small then. he clung to her, so desperate to feel something from his past life. desperate for love. for some kind of bond.  “What is the meaning of this? Why are you not training with your brothers?” her voice was cold. she didn’t stop crafting her signets at the work table. she didnt even look down at him.  “Please.. I... I got scared.” he craned his neck all the way back to look up at her, his helmet a bit too big for him, he hadn’t grown into it yet. 

“Whatever for? Is there an immediate threat to the colony?” he did not know what condescending meant, but he could tell she wasn’t giving him the response he needed. “No ma’am, but i..” he wasn’t even sure what words to use. he wasn’t sure what he felt. he was a fucking mess, and too young to know it. 

she interrupted. “Then get back outside. You know the rules. This is the way.”

his eyes were burning. he couldnt stop the tears. “I want my mom!!!!” He was so homesick his stomach hurt. a cold sweat towered over him like the metal goddess he clung to. without turning from her work, she put a gloved hand on his helmet and pushed him off of her. “Please, I need my mom!!” His nose was running now and he was shamelessly sobbing. some days were better, but not today. it was a hard one. 

The armorer was still. Quiet. She paused only for a moment, then with a soft sigh she went back to tinkering with the signet molds and sanding the beskar by hand.  “You don’t even care about me. No one here cares about anyone!!!” He turned away to trod off down the corridor, but was twirled back around abruptly. z “What made you think I cared for you?” She had bent down to look him straight in the helm. t zone to t zone. “Was it the fact that I saved your life? That I took you in? Housed you? Fed you? Trained you? I obviously don’t care for you at all.” She tossed these sarcastic words out of her mouth like hot garbage. She had no tact for talking to children and frankly didn’t care. She didn’t see him as a child. but as a brother. a fighter. a warrior. 

“That’s not what I meant... I...” He honestly didnt know what he meant at all. He knew he wanted his mom. He wanted things to go back to the way it was. He wanted to be a normal kid and be allowed to feel his real feelings. but this would not happen again. not for a long while.

“I care for the colony. You are part of the colony. This is the way.” “This is the way...” He sighed.

-------

The mandalorian felt himself aching for his child. He knew what grogu had felt. hiding his power, hiding his true feelings, despite being too young to know why. He was ugly crying under his helmet. He knew grogu felt so alone. his empathy was almost too much to bear. he cared so incredibly deeply for his son. his heart was aching knowing that grogu felt alone, WAS alone. he knew he was probably feeling confused and wondering the same thing. If Din cared for him at all. 

“Please, kid. I need you to be okay.”

[loeyluvr]

Guilt

Pairing: Choi San x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of hospitals, being in a coma, arguing, and anxiety/panic!

Word Count: 2.5k+

Type: fluff? and angst

Note: This is my first au so go easy on me <3 and definitely let me know if you like this one or if you have any requests !!!

Prompt: You were in a coma but you couldn’t remember how you got there, the only sense of normality being the lingering presence of your boyfriend San who was hell bent on sticking with you.

The only thing you could remember was the sickening impact of your head meeting with the pavement. The way you lost all control of your senses and with such a blunt force. It was quick, and for a moment you wondered if it had even happened, if it was just a dream, but the throbbing at the back of your head said otherwise. It was pitch black, the only sound you could make out was the rhymitic beeping of a what you believed to be a machine beside you. You felt the cold of a fabric enveloping you, coming to the quick realization you were in a bed. Your attention turned to the beeping beside you as it was steady and never faltering giving you something to focus on that wasn’t the dark that seemed to stare back at you. You attempted to open your eyes but couldn’t. A slight panic began to rise in your chest as you attempted to open them again expecting a different outcome yet receiving the same. Your breathing increased and so did the beeps of the machine beside you, you felt sweat forming at your brow as you a sinking feeling began to churn in your stomach. You didn’t know what to do as you couldn’t move or open your eyes, feeling trapped. You didn’t have much time to figure out much more for yourself before you heard a door swing open followed by the squeak of footsteps rounding the foot of the bed you were in. You felt whoever they belonged to, press something against your chest, assuming it to be a stethoscope, as you felt the cold of the metal through the fabric of your top. You heard a voice carry through your head, it sounded like an echo bouncing in an empty room. You concentrated on making it out, it didn’t take long as you began to catch on, hanging onto each syllable.

“Y/n, it’s your doctor, my name is doctor Hill, I know there’s a high chance you can hear me, so if you can please listen carefully, you’re currently in a coma, three days in, i’m going to need you to take deep breaths and concentrate on your heartbeat and following it’s pattern, I know you’re scared but please trust me.” You began to follow the instructions, knowing you had no other option, as you drowned out the voice by only following your heartbeat, realizing you could only do one or the other and within moments the panic you felt incased in was gone almost as quickly than it had come. You began to breathe in and out at a normal pace, prompting your doctor to continue. “You’ve been out a few days as your body heals, you need to focus on the healing before anything else, so do not stress and do not panic, you will wake up and you will be ok it’s just going to take time.” You heard him finish before sighing in approval as the beeping had become normal again. You wanted to nod or make a subtle movement to signal you heard him, yet to your dismay nothing happened. He scuffled around you, as you assumed he was making sure everything else was normal too. You heard the signature squeak of the shoes and a quiet goodbye as the doctor left the room. You began to feel tired as you drifted out of consciousness.

The next day you came to, well as much as you could, to the feeling of someone grasping your hand. Alarm bells started ringing in your head, and as if the person holding onto you could sense it, you heard a familiar voice let out affirmations and soft whispers. “Baby it’s ok, it’s just me, it’s just me.” You recognized the voice immediately and almost kicked yourself for not knowing sooner. It was your boyfriend San. You felt his lips ghost over tour forehead, they felt so far away yet you knew they were right above your temple. You wanted to lean into them, but you had come around to the notion that you simply couldn’t, no matter how frustrating. You felt his presence linger a little bit longer before he settled back into what you assumed to be a chair next to you. He began talking, almost to himself than to anyone. “I hope you know how much I love you and how sorry I am.” The words were so low and in between sharp intakes and you struggled to make them out, but when you did you felt your heart hammer in your chest. What could he have been possibly sorry for? He hadn’t caused this? He continued to mumble to himself, gently rubbing his finger over your interlocked hands. You yearned to reach out to him, to hug him, to tell him your ok, yet you couldn’t. Your inability to move felt like an eerie nightmare replaying over and over again.

The next time you awoke it was because you felt a sharp pain in your arm followed by a familiar voice that belonged to your doctor. “I’m changing your IV and you may feel some slight discomfort as it makes its way into your bloodstream.” You wanted to scream but couldn’t as the pain travelled from the tips of your fingers to your neck, it felt like someone poured boiling water into your veins. It lingered but began to subside as you felt his grasp loosen. You began to calm down as the pain had nearly vanished and began to focus on the warmth of someone beside you, which you had just noticed. The person beside you cradled into your arms and it didn’t take long for you to figure out it was San. You cold feel cold droplets linger on your exposed skin, immediately realizing they were tears. This broke your heart because you knew how he was, and you knew he was beating himself up over this and there was nothing you could do about it. You wondered how long he had laid there with you as you wished to run your fingers through his hair and tell him it’d be okay. Your heart felt heavy in your chest at the want to hold him and to talk to him, and simply return to life with him. Your thoughts left you feeling empty. Not long after you felt his presence beside you, it was gone but not before his thumb swiped under your eye, at a tear you didn’t know had fallen. You listened as he whispered to himself again as you tried to catch a few of the louder words, to no avail. You assumed it was him assuring himself you’d be ok but that thought scared you, for you hated him to feel as if he had to worry so hard for your safety. You tried to move your hand to reach his but couldn’t no matter how hard you tried.

The next time you awoke it was in your bed. You snapped your eyes open and immediately shot up. Adrenaline coursed through your veins as you attempted to move your hand and when that worked your legs. You jumped from beneath the blankets as you ran to the mirror and blinked your eyes and watched your shoulders roll in place. It felt surreal as you examined the room quickly before deciding on going downstairs. You ran downstairs of the familiar apartment you had lived in for the last year or so, stopping extra to feel the different changes in the wood of the railings and the way the steps collided with the balls of your feet. You were in a state of bliss as you suddenly stopped dead in your tracks, you watched in confusion as you, even though you were at the bottom of the stairs, sling open the front door, tears flowing down your face. Your heart sank as realization hit you like a ton of bricks. You weren’t awake and you weren’t home, you were dreaming.

You watched intently as you, well dream you, collapsed on the couch before curling into a ball. The scene felt all too familiar as foreign feelings began to flood back ‪to you. The pang of jealousy and hatred washing over you. You didn’t know why but you felt your heart breaking as dream you cried and cried until she couldn’t cry no more letting out whispers that you could barely hear. It wasn’t even a full 10 minutes but it felt like hours. The raw hurt that emanated in your dream versions face sent chills down your spine and your breath catch in your throat. You made an attempt to hug your dream self but stopped as you heard the door fling open for the second time of the day.

“Baby please just talk to me stop shutting me out.” Was the first thing that left the lips of San the door closing behind him in his wake. Your gaze quickly snapping between the two participants.

“Shutting you out?” Dream you squeaked. “Shutting you out??? You’re the one who couldn’t even muster up a text back or pick up one of my calls for the past two weeks yet i’m the one shutting you out?” The words were venom laced and you watched San’s face scrunch into a mixture of anger and hurt.

“I get busy and you know this, it’s a fucking text message i’m so sorry that you have to wait til i get home to talk to me.” He seethed arms raising. “Are you fucking kidding me? When you get home?? Sometimes you don’t even come home??? You’re so busy that you can’t let me know if you’re coming home or if you’re ok or if you need something? You’re so fucking busy you can’t consider for a moment that maybe a text or a call you declined was actually important? You think i’d be this upset if it was just stupid hi and hello texts” Dream you screamed back as she left her position on the couch, her fists balled at her sides. “I wouldn’t be fucking suprised theres not a moment you’re not overreacting over something.” He shot back.

“Are you kidding me San?” She said simply a look of disbelief on her face an unhumorous laugh following after. “Yes i’m serious every day it’s something new with you.” He started before throwing his coat onto the counter. “Every damn day you always start something, first it’s me not listening to your boring rants about work and the next it’s me not answering one text, every day you push your needyness onto me and it’s fucking tiring.” He says lowly. “It’s like you can’t do shit for yourself and im tired of always being the one to take care of you because i’m not your fucking parent.” The tears started to fall once more as dream you began to hurriedly throw on her previously discarded jacket. “You know if you hated my guts so much and ‪saw me seeking you for comfort and for someone to reside in, as me wanting attention and being needy you could’ve just said something.” She said her voice cracking.

San ran his fingers through his hair. “Look I didn’t mean that I just-“ He didn’t get to finish before dream you cut him off. “No San you made your message pretty fucking clear” Dream you grabbed their keys from the table where they had been thrown and slammed the door open for the third time and simply left. San muttered a “Fuck” before following after. You and San hurried out the door following dream you in her wake, San muttering to himself once more and yelling for dream you to stop or slow down. “Can we please just talk this out?” He called after her. “San like I said ‪you‬ made it pretty fucking clear i’m just a burden to you so for the love of god leave me-.” her words were cut short and ended with the stomach wrenching sound of something making contact with the pavement. Sans screams ripped through the quiet morning as the sound of his footsteps tore after dream you. You watched in horror at the scene unfolding, you were lying motionless on the ground as a frantic San dialed 911. You turned quickly with a wince realizing this wasn’t a dream, it was a memory you had lost and this was how you had ended up where you were.

You snapped back to reality as you felt Sans hand on yours once more but a sickening feeling resided in your stomach instead of content, you attempted to rip your hand away and to your surprise it worked, and to Sans too as he scrambled from his chair. You began to open your eyes light invading harshly causing you to close them before peeling away your eyelids again. You began to blink slowly, your eyes landing on the man of the hour himself. Your stare turning to a malicious one as you looked him over before softening. He was a mess to say lightly, his haired was everywhere, sticking up, and there were tear stains etched into his skin as dark circles laid under his tired, bloodshot eyes. He looked as if he hadn’t moved from his spot in days. Your heart softened as you realized he had put himself through more hell than you could muster up. You went to speak and but your voice could only make it to the sound of a whisper.

“Fuck you.” Is all you said as San lurched forward grabbing your hand. He looked as if he had seen a ghost as tears began to build in the corners of his eyes. He watched a playful smile take form on your face causing one to etch onto his. “I’m so so sorry y/n.” Was all he said as his voice sounded almost as broken as yours. Tears began to fill in the etches of his face as you wiped them away shakily. “Don’t cry baby.” You said soothingly. “It’s my fault you had to go through this if I had just-“ You cut him off. “But you didn’t and so now we’re here, you can beat yourself up over this all you want but it won’t change a thing.” He took a breath before staring down at your interlocked hands.

“I’m still so sorry for saying those things to you, i had just been so stressed that week and I never meant to ignore you I just never took a minute to do anything but work, I said harsh and cruel things all because I couldn’t accept the fact you were right, I had been neglecting you, I put work over you and for that i’m so sorry, you didn’t deserve being put second and you didn’t deserve being yelled at for caring about me.” He took a quick breath. “I couldn’t even protect you when you needed me most, I made you cry more than once and because of me you’re here” He finished quietly staring at you intently watching a tear slide down your face. He quickly wiped it away. “How about you don’t cry” He chuckled dryly still clinging onto your hand for dear life. “It’s ok San, I forgive you, shit happens, now can we please put this behind us because holy fuck my head is killing me.” He giggled again at the surrealness of you being your usual self after sitting in a hospital room for a week wishing for this moment.

“I also hope you know I had no intention of forgiving you.” You teased as you and San walked to the car after you were discharged only a day after waking up, except you weren’t walking as San insisted on carrying you, rambling on about how it was normal and necessary. So now you were clung to his back like a koala. “Yeah I figured that when the first thing you did when you came to was rip your hand away from mine.” He chuckled. “But when I saw you looked more fucked up than I did I decided to cut you some slack.” You giggled poking his ear making him jerk from your touch.

“I will drop you.” He warned as he felt your grip tighten around him making him smirk. The wind blowing your hair back. “Don’t put me in another coma.” You teased with a giggle and San whined a pout forming on his face. “Thats not funny” He huffed shifting your weight on his back. “I think it’s fucking hilarious.” You laughed biting your lip. “I will bite you.” He threatened as the sound of leaves blowing along the pavement cut through the air. “Always knew you had a biting kink.” You laughed loudly still poking at San’s face. “I really do wonder if you waking up was a good thing.” He said making you scoff before hitting his back. “Ok rude.”

He giggled as he felt you pout behind him. “I’m kidding dummy.” He teased. You were soon at your car as San carefully placed you inside. He then climbed‪‬ into his side and the whole car ride home was filled with giggles and teasing as you were filled with the notion everything would be okay.

Masterlist

[fallout-snippets]

Hello it me again, I L O V E your longer reacts and ur writing is just amazing. I would die if u did the interested! companions (+Deacon) reacting to sole almost dying but barely surviving like they get knocked out or have a really bad injury and go into surgery and wake up alright (totally up to u!) And it just being real angsty and sad. Sorry if this is a lil confusing I hope you have fun with this prompt and thank u for reading anyway. 💕

(sorry if im taking too many liberties and artistic choices with the replies but i want to make them unique, also kinda lost wind at the end cause theyre kinda long)

Cait is a furious mess in the waiting room, refusing to leave until she can see Sole again. It had just been a lucky shot by a lucking fucking raider but it’s enough to turn everything upside down and Cait wishes she hadn’t had to pick up Sole and run the hell out of there and instead could give that raider the beating of a lifetime. To soothe her nerve she plans out how to track them down and imagines what she’ll do to them.

It takes a few hours of silence from the operating room until the doctor finally emerges and she’s close to wrestling the poor guy down to ask what took so long but she keeps her cool, the way Sole told her to. It seems that Sole will recover without any lasting injuries but he requests that she lets them rest which she scoffs at, and pushes back the man so she can see them.

The doctor obviously can’t convince her to leave and instead resigns to at least getting her a chair. Cait spends the rest of the night and day sitting next to Sole, sobbing into their sheets when she knows they won’t notice. She holds their hand, feels their warmth and lets that be the thing that calms her down.

Once Sole wakes up though, she won’t be so vulnerable. They’re going to get an earful from her about being so careless and she’ll make sure they know that’s not going to fucking happen again.

Curie regrets becoming a human when she’s alone in the field with a Sole that might be bleeding out infront of her. She hates how her hands shake, how sickly cold she feels and how warm their blood feels on her hands as she tries to put pressure on the wound.

Her brain switches from a logical approach to a terrified one, between what she can do and has to do and what might happen if she does it wrong and she wishes she still had a stone cold approach to an injured patient. Instead it’s Sole. She might lose them for real and she feels a lump in her throat grow.

Thankfully Sole has passed out, for better or worse, and Curie puts a cloth over their face to make them anonymous. She brings out an emergency toolkit and some stimpaks and forces a deep breath. It takes a great mental strength to force her fear away so that she can get to work but soon she focuses only on the wound. She makes sure it’s clean, nothings stuck inside and she carefully administers the stimpak inside to out, letting the cellular regeneration slowly close the wound from inside.

Once she’s done she sits down, removes the cloth from their face to wipe her hands but she can’t bring herself to move. She feels sick and nauseous, something she never thought she’d feel doing something as natural as that. When Sole wakes up she’ll force herself to come back but for now she just sits and tries not to think about her hands inside Soles abdomen with their life hanging on a thread.

Danse doesn’t notice anything wrong at first. He’s been trained to take the situation seriously and never celebrate until they’re safe home again but it’s been a while since he’s been a soldier and it’s hard not to celebrate around Sole. So he doesn’t notice that not everyone is dead.

Sole makes a remark about the awful outfit the dead man infront of them has on and Danse chuckles and turns around to relieve the other man of his ammunition. He doesn’t hear the grunts of a survivor and he doesn’t hear them approaching but he hears the crunch of a blunt object connecting with Soles scalp. It echoes for weeks afterwards.

He quickly eliminates the threat but Sole has already slumped together on the floor, blood quickly pooling beneath them and he has never been this scared before. He does what he can to… keep the pieces together and he picks them up to bring them back somewhere safe. They don’t wake up for a while.

It’s not until Sole slowly blinks their eyes open in the safety of their home that he finally allows himself to cry. He sobs through an apology, begs them to please forgive him, while they softly comb his hair with their fingers, waiting to figure out what happened.

Deacon is the king of pranking and is pleased to have finally found a worthy opponent in Sole. It can range from placing a whopee cushion under their seat to staging a lovers spat in a full bar and he is living for it. So when Sole is dramatically complaining about the burning heat he just laughs and tells them to cool off.

With a smirk they toss him their jacket and pack and dive into the waters they’ve been travelling next to and he laughs louder for the sheer drama of it. What a match made in heaven. He waits for Sole to reemerge to splash him down but they dont and instead the surface grows still. Until their body slowly floats to the surface and he prays it’s just another prank.

It could be. Sole knows how to get under his skin. But there’s red leaking into the water from their head and he takes a look into the murky water and finds it filled with large rocks hidden just below. Quickly he throws himself in to pull them out, dragging them onto the dusty road.

The cut on their head isn’t deep and won’t be lethal but they’re unconscious and he’s struggling with what to do. He vaguely remembers how to do CPR and gets started, trying not to lose his shit in the process. He ends up getting water spat in his face but Sole coughing is music to his ears. He allows himself to hold on to their shoulder for a second longer than he needs to before he forces out a laugh.

“Did you cool down?”

Hancock likes being a little reckless, it’s good for the soul. Gets you out of your comfort zone and helps you sharpen up. Plus it’s fun. So Hancock’s not exactly complaining when he takes up with Sole who isn’t afraid of a fight, on the contrary; he downright loves it.

It can range from switching from guns to a fistfight just for the hell of it or batting baseball grenades into a super mutan stronghold just because they can. So when Sole suggests a shortcut from the roof of a three story building to the bus below he doesn’t think much of it. He declines it himself, knowing he doesn’t have it in him to do it but Sole has survived much worse with barely a scratch.

Except he sees them get ready and they leap like a bird ready to take flight but instead of a thud of them landing on the roof he hears glass breaking. He hurries to the ledge and finds Sole in a pile of broken glass and blood, staring at their bloodsoaked hands in shock. Somehow they landed on the sunroof window and fell through the bus.

Suddenly he can’t breathe and he feels ants crawling all over him and he doesn’t care that it’s not even reckless, it’s just stupid, but he throws himself off the edge onto the bus as well. Luckily the wounds are only superficial and Sole recovers quickly with carefully placed stimpaks but he shakes for hours afterwards with the image of a slashed Sole below him. It could’ve been worse, it looked worse, and sometimes he can’t shake the feeling that it was worse and he’s living in a comfort high to cope with it.

MacCready has always been afraid of ferals, even before that happened. It’s knowing they used to be people that terrifies him the most, the idea that there used to be a person inside and now there’s nothing but rot. That they’re just creatures, full of rage and hunger.

Usually when there’s a group of them Sole allows him to fall back and let them deal with it, much to his relief. The sounds they make, the shuffling of their feet on their ground. Everything comes back in vivid detail and he feels sick to his stomach. But this time it’s different. Maybe there’s one too many or maybe Sole is having an off day but they overwhelm them.

He hears Sole screaming as they’re wrestled to the ground, ferals biting and scratching through their clothes to get to their skin. He barely remembers what comes next, in his mind he’s trapped back with Lucy trying to save Duncan but when he comes to again his hands are bloody and torn.

The whole thing comes flooding back and he assumes the worst, reliving his nightmare again but he feels a gentle hand on his shoulder. Sole is behind him, standing behind the couch he’s suddenly in, and they’re clearly wounded but alright. He sees bitemarks on them and fights the urge to cry but the tears come anyway. At least this time he could save Sole before they got them.

Piper knows she’s not winning any popularity contests in Diamond City but she’s surprised at how many people seem opposed to Sole specifically. On a good night they’ll be left alone, maybe swap some stories with some random passerby, but more often than not someone has to voice their opinion.

Sole is used to it by now and tries to take it in stride. Theres plenty of drunk idiots at the Dugout Inn and there’s no reason to deal with all of them. This time, however, it doesn’t seem to be enough. Sole turns around to ask them to please leave but the person in question brings out a knife and stabs them in the abdomen.

Piper can’t help but to scream and rush to catch Sole who clutches their stomach and stumbles backwards with blood gushing out from their fingers. The person quickly scatters in the crowd but Piper doesn’t care. She screams for help and luckily people may dislike Sole but not that many dislike them enough to want to see them dead and someone gets a cloth to press on the wound.

Soles spends a few weeks in bed, resting and moaning everytime they turn around in bed and everytime Piper feels a sickening guilt spill over. It could’ve been worse. A knife in your stomach is more often than not lethal. She has to pay more attention, she owes that to Sole. Piper keeps thinking what life would be like if Sole died and everytime it makes her sob into her scarf.

Preston believes in the best of people and that no one is above another. Luckily Sole believes the same. They almost feel like a reward for all the horrible things he’s had to endure and he can’t tell them enough how glad he is they’re with him.

He doesn’t want to imagine the place he’d be in if it hadn’t been for them saving him. But when Sole neglects to tend to a minor wound that ends up infected, it’s all he thinks about. What if this is it? What if the universe is taking back his one good thing, the one glowing ember in the ashes?

Preston doesn’t know how to act. Things seem to move on in the rest of the world, people take care of themselves in the settlements that Sole built, but for Preston nothing is moving. He barely breathes. He sits by their bed and wipes the feversweat from their forehead, he talks to them when they’re in such deep sleep it looks like death.

Will he sit by their grave like this too?

Gage has seen Sole do some pretty fucked up things and come out of it more or less unharmed. It seems like nothing really cuts them deep enough to make a dent which seems perfect for a troublemaker.

Who would’ve known a simple antbite would be enough to make them fall deathly ill and lie in bed for several weeks? Their leg swells up to twice its size and it turns an awful purple shade while a fever rages in their body, making him think for sure that’s that. No coming back from that one.

He doesn’t really know how to feel about it. He hasn’t really cared enough about someone else before and the way he’s feeling now he doesn’t think he ever will. Gage is more angry than anything, but not at Sole. He’s furious that something as inane as a bugbite might take them out when they’ve done so many incredible things normal humans shouldn’t be able to.

But more than that he’s angry to think he might end up alone again. As pathetic as it makes him sound, he needs them. Their comfort, their company… their laughter. He sits outside their room most of the time, unable to face them but unable to leave. All he can do is hope that the chems he’s scavenged are enough.

[mamusings]

Supernatural Season 2 thoughts

Continuing with my rewatch. This season kicks up several gears on season 1. Overall the storytelling is much better. There is a less formulaic approach to the even the MOTW episodes. Its inventive: you get one from the perspective of the ghost (Roadkill), two that layer in the boys run ins with the law. The first 4th wall breaker (Hollywood babylon), first alt reality (What is and what should never be) and I think the first straight up comic one (Tall Tales). This works much better. S1 episodes give you: a kill, work out the lore, find the creature and kill it right back. Instead of s1 espousing the lore and developing the brothers as a team, we now get to explore the show's moral compas and the complexity of what brotherhood means within it. I think Hollywood Babylon riffs off ditching the initial importance placed on accuracy in how Spn presented itself in it's own storyline. Yep we like story telling thank you, realism isnt really the point. The monsters and sub plots more clearly refract on the season themes and plot.

Supporting characters are another aspect of the shows blooming. They are a much more varied and interesting bunch. Gordon helps explore a key issue for the show - the distinction between being a hunter and a killer. Its significant he appears twice - it's a big issue. The psychics Andy and Ava are fun. Bank heist dude Ronald garners the right mix of derision and respect - I'm not sure spn homages to freaks and geeks hit the right note most of the time. And theres the Roadhouse crew and Bobby who really help flesh out what can become an overly confined universe.

The first third explores grief. You get the contrast in Sam and Dean's personalities in how they try to deal with John's death. But you also get the sense of them learning from each other as the season progresses. Dean tries talking. Sam tries keeping busy. Both grow while staying themselves. Nice. You also get a switch from s1 dominance of Dean's concern for Sam, with Sam's concern about Dean's increasingly high octane behaviour here and it's a nice switch. With grief you get guilt. Sam's is the easier too little too late regrets. Dean's is the motherload of guilt that John sacrificed himself for him. Given the shows dominant theology is Christian I find it hugely interesting that the focus here is on the receiver of the sacrifice. The overwhelming guilt Dean feels underpins the opening episodes, gets hammered home in Crossroads and then comes back for an even bigger bite when Dean does the same to Sam in the finale. Bobby's anger with Dean and Sam's devastation leaves me little doubt that as much as we all love that Sam is back, Dean did wrong here. Although maybe Dean's guilt comes from his low self worth. Sam might cope very differently?? But I do think the zombie episode declarations of 'what is dead should stay dead' make the point that thus wheeling and dealing with death cant be good. I personally find the idea that moral rules dont apply to Sam and Dean because of love is a weak one. I think fandom does spn a disservice by reducing something really complicated here into 'well they are soul mates'. Loving someone is not an excuse to chuck the rules out the window. But maybe the show itself descends into a moral free for all with no underpinning message and the blame lies there? I'm not sure. In a way that is what I'm trying to figure out with these commentaries.

What works better in explaining why Dean does to Sam what John did to him is the other big theme of season 2: the idea that right and wrong isnt black and white. This is the focus of lots of episodes some of which explore whether hunters are just killers. And others that explore at what stage something becomes evil and why. Both these questions are crucial in relation to Sam's destiny and how each of them should respond to that destiny. The first half of the season sees Dean trying out his fathers black/white approach and the hardening off of himself he thinks he needs to achieve in order to kill Sam should that becomes necessary. Its the mid season finale that finally answers that one for Dean. Sam goes proper bad, Dean doesn't kill him. Along the way, with Sam's prompting, Dean questions not only his father but also the morality he had assumed of his hunting so far. How Dean outgrows John is a huge theme for me. I find it fascinating because he remains the same kind of man as John. Tough, difficult etc he diesnt become Sam. What he changes ir accepts are that what he prizes isnt what John prizes, but rather the people he loves and he learns that this isnt a failing or a weakness. But it's a long long road.

Sam wrestles with the fact that he may turn evil trying to find ways to hope and ways to cope. He takes a leaf out of the Dean playbook at gets drunk. He prays. He looks for a safety net getting Dean's to promise to off him. Dean promises to save him, but the message in Heart is that sometimes the only way to save someone is to kill them. However, the other message is solving things one step at a time, making the right play for the circumstances and not drawing one arbitrary line somewhere - be it between people and non-people or even that evil acts make you irredeemably evil. Slippery stuff, but that's what makes it interesting.

One thing I really like in this season is how the brothers begin to influence each other. They are still a study in contrasts, but they try out each others approaches and they've learned to value what the other brings to the table. As Sam says in the opener they have just started to be brothers again. Their relationship is so supportive that the comic Tall Tales reminding us how much they wind each other up is a needed counterpart lest things get just too damn sweet. The disturbing siblings at the centre of 2 episodes is also sends the message that it ain't all roses too. Andy has an actual evil twin. The ending of Playthings with the sisters is filled with creepy foreboding is particular to this episode. One sister gives her life up for the other and it feels wrong. Of course its foreshadowing other famous brothers but let's leave that alone just now.

In terms of Sam and Dean, their brotherhood seems to have kicked the S1 Sam and Dean team up into formidable. Their run-ins with law enforcement moves our perception of them beyond boys hunting into being increasingly impressed as they outwit cops and feds. It also moves their interactions with outsiders beyond gratitude from victims towards validation from peers and this feels important. There's the seamless teamwork with code words and all. But more importantly trust and loyalty - Sam is unswayed under police questioning in The Usual Suspects. Folsom Prison Blues most explicitly highlights Dean's almost fanatical sense of loyalty and paying your dues.

This pays off in the final two parter. As strong as All Hell Breaks Lose 2 is, part 1 is a yawn fest. But what is interesting is that while Sam does his best to found a team, Azazel can just pluck them off one by one by appeals to each person's individual self interest. The only one of the psychics who gets that the only way to win is to stick together is Sam. In my view Sam learned this from Dean. Dean is always playing the stronger together card. At this point in the show, brotherhood is about solidarity, trust and loyalty. That's actually the message here far more than love. Of course they love each other. But that alone wouldn't have got them this far. What gets them here is sticking together. When Dean finally surpasses John in killing Azazel he gets his moment of John unqualified approval and love. But right after comes the key dialogue of the season. Sam says 'you did it' and Dean replies 'I didnt do it alone'. That seems to me to highlight what's been going on so far. Learning not to do it alone. Learning to lean on and accept others. That's where the Winchester boys outgrow their upbringing and themselves.

Addendum: the angel episode House of the Holy deserves a mention. Its so finely balanced between being about angels and not when viewed on it's own. Its only on rewatching that the effects and props leave you in no doubt that even if F. Gregory isn't an angel this episode is about angels. Its curious as to why it's in season 2 rather than maybe in s3 - no angel appears until season 4. I refuse to count Gabriel in s3 as an angel appearance as he's for many seasons yet still just the trickster. So why? Maybe it's to help us understand the significance for Sam? Angels give Sam hope - making it even more awful for him that he is the object of their suspicion. Or is it about the need for faith, which tellingly Dean hadn't got.

#supernatural #spn #sam #dean #winchester

[el-gilliath]

Alex Manes Appreciation Week

May 10th - Day 7: Futurefic Before anyone comments, yes I know this is from Michael’s POV. But this is what my brain wanted. And I always listen to my creative brain. This story came from this prompt made by my beloved Marlo @bestillmyslashyheart​ 3) Michael self-destructs rather spectacularly after s1. After everything he’d gone through feeling Max die on him was his last straw. Maria tries to stick around and help him for a while but eventually she can’t anymore not without getting pulled down with him. So Michaels all on his own and yet somehow he wakes up most days in his own bed, his trailer is kept clean and tidy, theres always food in his fridge, and he never loses his job. At first he assumes its Isobel looking out for him but eventually (after months bc he really is a dumbass) he realizes that Alex has been coming by at night when hes drunk out of his mind and helping to keep his life in order just enough so that he doesn’t spiral any further. Its as much as he could do after Michael told him to leave and never come back. That he couldn’t stand the sight of him anymore. But Alex is done walking away and he’s putting his money where his mouth is.

It's dark in his head. The chaos and entropy doesn’t shut down any more. Ever. And he hates it. The guitar helped for 5minutes. Maria for 10. But both of them left him, and now he’s alone. All alone, the way he should be. He’s the entropy, he’s the chaos, he’s the fucking reason his mother is dead, the reason Max is dead, the reason Isobel works harder and harder and harder to get Max back. But they can’t. It’s been months and they are nowhere close.

Liz can’t be around him anymore because he’s given up. Rosa never liked him so she’s out anyway. Kyle has always been a no. He pushed Alex so far away by not showing up and going to Maria that he knows he can never fix it. Isobel is too busy for him and he understands that. He doesn’t even have the Pony anymore, because that is Maria’s space and he knows he’s not welcome right now. It’s all his fault, all of it.

All he has now is the acetone. The booze. A panel of a spaceship that there is no use in fixing since Antar is war torn and destroyed anyway. Everything he ever had; any glimmer of hope is gone.

He drinks in front of his trailer now. Sometimes in the caves next to their pods. Sometimes at Saturn’s Rings. He always mixes enough booze and acetone to pass out. But he always wakes up in the trailer when he does. Unless he goes home with someone before he passes out but he’s usually too drunk and too far gone for that.

He rages out with his telekinesis and destroys everything in his Airstream. But he wakes up to it clean and tidy, his fridge full of food, a fresh bottle of water on the floor next to his bed. He doesn’t know why Isobel keeps looking out for him when she’s busy with Max, but he never tells her to stop. Maybe it feels good to know that someone cares for him. Not that he deserves it. But somewhere in the deep dark abyss that is his mind now a days he knows that he needs it.

Sanders never calls and fires him either, even if he knows that he hasn’t really been doing his job for months. He tries, but not even engines and fixing things help. It just makes him lose control even further and makes him dive for the acetone bottle. Healthy coping is overrated anyway.

He hates everything his life is. All the aches and pain intensifying in his head, making it feel like the entropy is crushing his spirit. And maybe it is. Maybe it’s crushing everything he is. He knows he hasn’t been halfway sober in a couple of months at least. Maybe he should be scared of that but the only thing he feels is relief. Like he needs it so he can forget about the trauma. Forget about the good things in his life that he doesn’t deserve anymore or broke apart in his rage and sadness.

So when Isobel drives into the junkyard about three months after Max dies he’s surprised. He’s not anywhere close to sober, but he’s not anywhere near drunk enough to black out either. That is what drinking steadily does to you, you need just that much more to go under.

“You still on the bender then?” She asks as she walks up to where he is sitting in front of the Airstream. He just looks at her and takes another sip of the bourbon bottle in his hand.

“It’s been three months you know, maybe it’s time you get your head out of your ass and realize you have a problem.” The anger in her voice washes over him but he’s too lost to care. So he just drinks more, his mind is churning and he needs it to stop.

“Michael! I need you! Max needs you! Doesn’t that mean anything?!” She’s shouting now, the anger backed by a psychic lash that digs into his brain. Too bad his brain is filled with too much chaos anyway.

“Fine. I don’t know how the hell you’ve survived these three months but come talk to me when you’re not broken. I need my brother, Michael,” she says, before she turns and gets into her car. And of course she needs Max, she always did. No one needs him, he’s not worth it. And it only makes the spiral deeper.

-----------

It’s a couple days later when he’s trying to do some work that her words finally penetrate his mind. It makes him freeze, because if Isobel doesn’t know how he’s been surviving then who is helping him out? If she didn’t get him home and into bed at night, if she didn’t keep his Airstream and clothes clean, if she didn’t put food in his fridge. Then who is?

There’s no way it’s Maria, she told him in no uncertain terms that she was done, that she couldn’t handle whatever trauma he had going on. Not that he blames her, he hurt her pretty bad too when his easy didn’t turn out quite so easy.

It can’t be Liz or Rosa, both of them are too busy with making Rosa being alive seem plausible and trying to find a way to bring Max back. The guilt of not helping them threatens to overcome him every day but he know’s he wouldn’t be much help anyway.

It’s not Kyle. Valenti wouldn’t do that, even if his motto is Do No Harm. And besides he has a newly resurrected sister to get to know.

That leaves only one person. The person he might have hurt most of all. The person Michael told to leave and never come back. The person he told that he couldn’t stand the sight of him anymore. That seeing Alex was like looking at Jesse Manes, at the death and destruction brought to him by the Manes family. That their cosmic connection didn’t mean shit and that he was done loving Alex.

He hasn’t let himself think about that moment for three months. Hasn’t let himself think about the tears that ran down Alex’s cheeks, about how he held himself as if he was a tiny, hurt child. About the devastation and heartbreak he could see in his eyes. About how Alex tried to reach out and he pushed him away with his powers. Not enough to hurt him, but enough to firmly get his point across. About how he looked away and walked away from Alex for once.

He knows deep down he regrets it. He told Isobel that he loved Alex and that he probably always would. It’s still true, he loves him with his entire heart. Which is why he broke it. So he could forget.

-----------

He doesn’t drink as much that night. He needs to know for sure. He still drinks more than enough, enough to fall asleep in the lawn chair he’s sitting in. But not enough that he will stay sleeping through whatever happens.

And a fair few hours after he’s fallen asleep, he wakes up as someone hauls him up from the chair he’s been sitting on.

“Come on Michael, help me out a little,” he hears Alex say as he slowly maneuvers them to the Airstream and up the stairs. He makes soft mumbling noises as he drags Michael into the trailer and deposits him on the bed, helping him out of his jeans and shirt before tucking him into bed. Michael cracks his eyes open as he walks away from the bed and watches him tidy up the tiny bit of mess Michael has made during the day. He watches Alex check the fridge, nod to himself as if he’s happy at what he’s found and take out a water bottle. He closes his eyes again as Alex turns towards the bed and listens as he walks over and puts the bottle of water next to the bed. He has to hold himself back from reacting when he feels Alex run his fingers through his hair.

“I wish you didn’t do this to yourself. I wish you would let me help. I love you, Michael” Alex whispers, before he feels the cool pressure of lips against his forehead. 30 seconds later Alex is out the door and his car is driving away. And Michael falls into a pitiful sleep, the entropy in his head renewed with how Alex can care for him with everything he has done and said to the man.

-----------

It takes him another two weeks to decide how to handle this. Two weeks of him drinking just enough to fall asleep, but not enough to not wake up when Alex inevitably comes for him. And it’s the same thing every night. Alex gets him into bed, Alex tidies the Airstream and refills the fridge if he has too. He leaves a bottle of water, runs his fingers through his hair and tells him he loves him. It’s enough to make Michael remember that he is loved. The trauma is nowhere near dealt with, but he starts working a bit more to start feeling some semblance of normality. He drinks a little less so he can appreciate what Alex does for him. He calls Isobel to tell her he’s slowly seeing the light, and she cries in his ear and tells him she loves him and that she is glad her brother is coming back to her, even if it is slowly.

That night, he pretends to sleep in his chair when Alex arrives. But as soon as Alex walks over to him to help him into bed, he opens his eyes and looks directly at Alex. He’s not sober now either, but it is the least he’s had to drink since Max died.

“Hi,” he says as he watches Alex freeze like a deer in headlights. Fear enters his eyes for a moment, but it quickly replaced by resignation.

“How long have you known?” Alex asks, his voice low and sad.

“Two weeks.” Alex exhales loudly, doing that thing where he breathes slowly through pursed lips. He knows it’s a PTSD coping mechanism.

“I’m sorry. I know you told me to stay away”

“Are you? Really?” he asks, watching Alex with as open an expression on his face as he can manage. Alex shifts his weight on his good leg and nods. Carrying around a drunk, grown man can’t be easy on his leg.

“Then why did you do it? Why take care of me when I spoke to you like that?”

Alex exhales again, and swallows loudly. “I told you I was done walking away. Even if you won’t want me around, I need to own up to that. And whichever way I can help, I will.”

Michael just looks at him. He has so much to deal with, so much hurt to heal. He’s not ready for anything close to what he knows Alex wants. To what he knows deep down that he wants too.

“I’m broken, Alex. The entropy never shuts down anymore. The chaos doesn’t stop. Right now I can’t be more than that. I need to be just me so I can deal with it” he says, broken and battered as he is. But still something in him is thankful that he has someone like Alex in his life.

“I can wait. It’s my turn to wait. Just let me help you” Alex replies. There’s nothing like hope in his eyes, but Michael can still feel the tiny spark of hope in him. Like he wants to be there for Michael in any way he can. And if that doesn’t say something about the man Alex is, then what would.

“I can’t promise a happy ending.”

“I don’t care. I just want an ending”

Michael nods, his lips quirking up slightly at the relief that enters Alex’s posture. He’s going to be broken for a long time still. Even if he can feel his heart mending just slightly. Like it wants to be whole again. And some day, maybe he’ll be ready to want that too.

[wafflesetc]

I’ll be there for you Chapter 2

I’ll be there for you Arc I | I’ll be there for you Arc II: Chapter 1

A/N: It’s been how long? BUT IT’S BACK! Thank you as always to @kkruml​ and @missclairebelle​ who always know just want needs to be added on, fixed, elaborated, and give me a strong kick in the arse when needed. 

The One With The Heartbeat

“Mhmmmm.” I sleepily mumbled as I crawled into the bed. Jamie turned in his slumber, reaching for me.

“Yer home late.” His voice with husky with sleep, but I could hear the double meaning in his tone.

“I know, I’m sorry.” My body aligned with his, as it did perfectly without fail. “We had a M&M conference today, Joe and I stayed late to talk to Dr. Murphy…”

“It’s not just you, anymore Sassenach.” My body felt a rush of cold air as he sat up, sending chills down my spine. I was in no mood to rehash this argument, again. “Ye have to think of the bairn...Ye ken I am no’ telling you to stop working, but I am just reminding ye to take it easy on yer feet, take it easy on the hours.”

“Jamie,” I pleaded. I reached for a pillow and smothered it over my face groaning into it. “I had a long day. It is almost midnight. I have another shift tomorrow. The last thing I want to do is argue, alright.”

“Let’s go to bed, then.” His voice was soft and almost apologetic. I succumbed to slumber as he closed the distance between us and cradled me like a small infant. It was a night without any dreams.

“How big is the bairn this week?” I watched Geillis take a swig of coffee from the nurses station.

“That dumb app you made me download says baby is about the size of a pea or something similar.” I rounded the desk and sat in a chair next to her. “God, I miss caffeine.”

“I bet ye do.” She took another sip and smirked at me. “Do ye want a small sip?”

“Yesssssssss.”  I reached for her cup and brought the hot contents to my lips.  “It’s so bloody good.”

“Ye ken a small amount isna bad for ye….” I darted my eyes at her as she rolled hers. “Yeah, yeah, I ken ye’re the doctor.”

“I know some things aren’t bad in moderation. I’m just trying to be healthy through this journey...”  I chose another term for my condition for fear of any ears that might be within hearing distance.

“How are things wi’ Jamie?” I could hear the eagerness and inquisitive undertones in her question. I sighed and leaned back into the chair.

“Ah.” I took a breath recalling how tense things between us had been. It wasn’t that he was not supportive, because he was… It was just different for him to be my boyfriend than just a friend. We’d been arguing over how many hours I was working, over my stress level, over all the food I was eating. I was being micromanaged in ways I was never used to being monitored.

“We’re… Figuring things out.” I released my breath. “The first few weeks we were in that honeymoon phase. It was all new and exciting. And now that suddenly I’m his girlfriend... He feels the need to be overprotective kicks into gear.”

Geillis laughed at that.

“I am not the type of woman who bites her tongue, nor needs to be protected!” I could feel the tips of my ears burning red.

“I ken, but maybe ye should try and see it through his eyes, Claire. I dinna ken why he feels the way he does, but the lad probably does have his reasons. He has always been a man who is fiercely loyal to his friends… I have a hunch he’d be more so over his family.”

“I… It’s…” And saved by the bell, my pager went off. “It’s not that simple.” I stood and rolled my shoulders, working out the kinks in my back.

“When are ye going to tell the rest of the work folk?”

“I’m six and a half weeks, almost seven. Jamie and I are still figuring out, what being together is like…”

She rose from her chair tossing her empty coffee cup into the waste bin. “It sounds like ye are goin’ stall as long as ye can.”

“Probably.” I unlocked my phone and dialed. “We have the first ultrasound today… I’ll call you after, let you know how it goes.”

“I’d like that and dinna fash about Jamie, ye’ll sort it out. Ye always do.”

Date of Birth. Age. Weight. Occupation.

My mind raced a mile a minute as I filled out the paperwork in the OBGYN’s office. Finishing my information, I glanced at the clock on the wall.

6:18PM.

Dr. Fisher had been more than accommodating when I had called her earlier in the week, asking for an appointment outside of normal clinic hours and after all the nursing staff had gone home.

She poked her head from behind the door, smiling at me. “I know ye had a long day and no rush on the paperwork… I’ll just be in my office next door. Come get me when ye are finished and we will start.”

“Alright.” I said dryly. Unlocking my phone, I pulled up the last text I had sent to Jamie.

Appointment is at 6:15. Office is on the third floor of the main building, office 305. Office lights will be off, come on in anyway. Through the set of blue doors and you’ll see the lights on where we are at. See you soon.

He had quickly liked my comment and replied hastily. Will be there.

My stomach dropped as 6:18 quickly turned to 6:24 and I finished signing my name on the last release. I walked to her office, knocking on the door and placing the packet on her desk.

“Are we going to wait on the father?” Dr. Fisher asked as she guided me back into the exam room.

“I… Uh….” I swallowed. “He kne-”

“Excuse me.” A familiar Scottish voice spoke as a knock accompanied. “I’m verra sorry I was late, my phone died on the train and I couldna find the right room.”

Though we had been stressed the last week, tears filled my eyes, he hadn't wanted to miss this.

I wiped a tear as I climbed up onto the exam table. His eyes met mine and I could see the line of sweat across his forehead.

“Sassenach.” He whispered coming to my side. “I wouldna have missed this for the world, ye have to know.”

I took his hand and gave it a hard squeeze. I know, it relayed to him.

“Dr. Beauchamp,” Dr. Fisher prompted as she turned on the monitor. “Take off yer scrub bottom off. There’s a sheet to keep ye covered over there. I’ll give ye a minute.”   

She left us then and Jamie’s hands found the drawstrings on my pants.

“Can I undo them?” His voice was meek, but I could see the eagerness and excitement in his eyes. Though he still looked like a petulant child who had eaten a cookie before dinner time, he also looked like a man. A man that was ready to move heaven and earth to make sure me and his child were alright. It send chills down my spine- maybe this is why he was being so overprotective- he had already done his part and now it was really all up to me.

“Yes.” I nodded, helping him shimmy them off my thighs; my undergarments followed. “Toss them on the chair and hand me the sheet.”

“Aye.”  He hitched his voice for a moment and then shook his head at me.

“Say it.” I commanded. It wasn’t a question, I knew he wouldn’t have missed this but with the guilt still written on his face I knew he would feel better once he admitted it to me.

“Ye ken, I really wouldna have missed this, right? I triedta call, but my phone died...”

I reached across my torso and slipped my fingers through belt loops of his jeans.

“Come here.” I tilted my head up and gave him my kiss me look. He more than willingly obliged.

“We’ve been on edge recently, but I know,” I rested my forehead against his searching his eyes.  “You wouldn’t miss this.”

He let out a small snort and I felt him take the folded sheet from my hands and the coolness of his touch as he hands found their way to my waist band. “Let’s get ye decent for the doc then, aye?”

We stayed like that for a few moments, breathing each other’s air, just being in each other’s orbit for the first time in days when the knock came on the door.

“Ye ready?” Dr. Fisher asked.

“Aye.” Jamie gleamed.

It was quiet for a few moments save for the crinkle of some paper, the whoosh of the gel as the doctor squirt it onto my lower abdomen, and the machine making noises.

I felt the probe on my stomach moving left to right, and then it hit just the right spot.

Lub dub. Lub dub. Lub dub.

“Sassenach,” Jamie whispered as he registered what that sound was, “We made that.”

With tears in my eyes I looked up to his face. “We sure did.”