#such a terrible job before. recovering from that and dealing with the aftermath of this is exhausting and has taken a toll on my physical

[dogearedheart]

8i've been thinking about the last asks i got today. and i think it's better for me to take a step back from this account. i know the anon didn't mean anything by it, but i still feel like i am being a negative presence on here and weirding people out with who i am is nothing i want. so, i am not deleting or anything. i am just gonna be less present with sharing personal things or leaving tags. I'll probably be more active on my second account where i don't have that many followers :)

[cevansbrat0007]

Twin Flames: Part One

Summary: When firefighter Curtis Everett suspects that he's found his twin flame, he plans to slowly ease her into his lifestyle of dominance and submission. Until one night when it all goes up in smoke. Firefighter!Curtis Everett x OFC

Warnings: Angst, Mentions of Death, House Fires, Mention of Exes, Mentions of D/s Lifestyle, Mentions of Daddy Kink, Alcohol Consumption, Eventual Smut, Cursing, Minors DNI

A/N: Dedicated to @curls-and-eyeliner for helping me flesh this out. This installment is part of my ongoing Trio Series. There will be a second part to this, detailing Curtis and Ruby's actual first meeting the night of the play party. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated and encouraged.

___

As a firefighter, Curtis Everett has seen some terrible things in his line of work as a first responder. He's lost people on the job more than once. But the first time it happened…

The memory of that night still follows him. The things he witnessed, the smell of charred flesh. That’s the kind of shit that changes a person, it leaves behind a lasting mark.

The first person he ever lost while out on a call – it wrecked him. And in the aftermath Curtis was left to deal with it all on his own because Serena, his girlfriend of several years, was too busy partying to pick up the phone when he needed her. She had swiped his credit card so that she could show her friends a good time, which also included half the bar. 

After all, it wasn’t like it was her money. And although they ended things soon after, that woman wasn’t prepared to go quietly. She felt that she’d put up with a lot from him, especially whenever she reluctantly allowed him to indulge in some of his darker fantasies. 

In her mind, he owed her. And in time, she would collect.

But Curtis would eventually recover from that loss and move on, because that’s kind of one of the requirements of the job. After that horrible night, he vowed to do better. He became laser focused, determined to push himself to the limit. And it worked, at least for a while. But sometimes life is rather unpredictable.  

Just like the flames.

The next time he lost someone on his watch, it threatened to take him his fucking knees. Because that day – that day the victim was a little girl. Iris Caldwell, who was barely five-years-old. Her weeping mother had kept repeating over and over again that she’d just had a birthday two days prior.

And they had plans to celebrate that weekend. But the flames…they’d gotten to her first. And her tiny lungs had been no match for the heat and the smoke. 

Curtis had been the one to carry out her small, lifeless body - tears clouding his vision through the cover of his mask. He handed her off to an EMT and then stood motionless several yards away as chaos surged around him. His eyes were trained on the child, his frozen gaze never leaving her fallen form as the crew desperately tried to resuscitate her. However, when their efforts proved to be unsuccessful he placed the weight of that blame squarely upon his own shoulders. 

He’d been the one who failed poor Iris. And then the endless loop of “what-ifs” began.��

What if they’d arrived at the scene a few moments sooner? What if he’d been just a fraction of a second quicker as he was making his way into the house, trying to navigate a path through the blaze? What if he hadn’t struggled to break down the heavy oak door that had kept them from Iris, leaving her trapped to contend with the flames alone before she eventually succumbed to her injuries?

Later that night, someone showed him her picture, one of his teammates that had been with him on the call. In the photo, Iris had been wearing a sparkly pink crown, looking every inch the princess she was pretending to be. But it was her eyes that struck him – those big, beautiful eyes that reminded him so much of someone else he’d encountered not too long ago. A person that he’d met at one of the parties he liked to frequent as of late in his search to find the right woman. 

The type of woman who enjoyed the same games he liked to play. The type of woman who could manage him, who could accept him for the man that he was and would always be. A woman who was not only capable of understanding his dominant nature, but of embracing it.

He’d met a woman who’s spirit called to his own – so much so that when she abruptly left, he chased her down. Curtis had felt compelled to know her, to gentle the young woman who’s inner fire seemed to burn so bright, he couldn’t bear to watch it be so clumsily extinguished by someone else. By a lesser man who wouldn’t understand, nor appreciate, the gift that would be her eventual submission.

Rubeena Maxwell. That had been her name. And what they’d shared the night at Club Domino after he’d chased her down had been amazing. But he hadn’t pursued her after that, wanting to court her right. To show her that he could be the man he knew she deserved. And in order to do that he had to be on top of his game.

As a man. As a Dominant. And as a Daddy.  

But the night he and his team had lost that child, deep down he knew that he couldn’t go through this alone. Well, he could, but he didn’t want to – even as he tried to drink it all away. 

That night he tried to bury himself so deep in the bottom of a bottle that it – along with everything else – would all fade away. Wanted to get so drunk off his ass that he wouldn’t have to feel a damn thing until after morning light. However, when that proves to be damn near impossible he leaves the bar in search of another form of solace. 

He knew that he needed something more. He needed her.

Ruby.

They weren’t together, at least not yet. They’d only been out a few times, enough for her to realize that there was more to Curtis than he initially let on. There was pain, there was baggage, as well as the ghost of an ex-girlfriend who was still taking up so much space that it left virtually no room for a third person.

For Ruby to stake her claim on this man’s heart.

So she tried to put the brakes on things, effectively ending their relationship before it had truly ever begun. Because in truth, she had her own issues to contend with. And none of them involved a charming six-foot-something firefighter sporting a chiseled jaw and tempting blue eyes.     

However, when he showed up on her doorstep two weeks after their very first meeting, looking every bit as lost as confused she felt, she had no choice but to let him in. Especially since the gorgeous first responder appeared to be so drunk he could barely stand, let alone talk.

The moment she opened her door, Curtis pulled her into his arms, whispering into her curls over and over again about how sorry he was – for everything. For not being enough. For not getting there in time. Followed by a litany of nonsensical rambles about Ruby’s eyes, and how there was so much life in them. 

And how he never wanted to be the reason that it disappeared. 

Curtis just wanted to tell her – someone, anyone, really – that he had tried that day. That he had resolved himself to do better. And then he broke, right there on her front porch as she wrapped her arms around his big body as his powerful shoulders shook with the force of his tortured sobs. 

And whether she knew it or not, that was the night Rubeena Maxwell opened her heart to the beautifully damaged man who would become her lover, her partner, and the most dominant force in her life. 

That was the night she and Curtis Everett became a team. And this right here is just the beginning of their story before they would eventually become part of The Trio.

Next part coming soon...

[nothinggathers]

DBH Fic Masterlist

One shots

Impatient - PWP - Human AU - Connor works at a tacky wings bar and hooks up with Hank in the alley

Dirty Laundry - PWP - Human AU - Hank has inappropriate feelings for the college student renting his spare room which he’s content to keep to himself, until he finds out the pictures of a guy that looks just like him don’t just look like him.

Warning: Drunk sex, post break-up revenge porn

The Mermaid of Fox Creek - Teen - Mermaid AU - Hank finds a broken down merdroid on the beach and takes him home, inadvertently teaching him to like soft things and How It’s Made before falling a little bit in love.

Night of the Soul - NC-17 - Canonverse - In the aftermath of the raid on Jericho Hank is spiraling, until Connor comes to ask for his help...

Warning: Rape by deception

Scandal - NC-17 - Modern Royalty AU - His Royal Highness, Henry Prince of Wales and his valet, Connor, share a few stolen minutes in the depths of a forbidden tryst that would ruin them both if it came to light.

Close To Me Always - G - Hank reflects on his relationship with Connor in the aftermath of his loss.

Warning: Major Character Death

Beautiful - Teen - Connor finds the imperfection and impermanence of Hank’s body beautiful, and Hank shows Connor that his body bears the marks of living too.

Ensoulment - G - Connor reads fairytales and ruminates on his own personhood

Ghosts in the Machines - Explicit - Reverse AU (Featuring art from @winterbaroness and @vladlen4i) - Detective Stern and his prototype android partner investigate murders and the disappearances of androids, and realise there is so much more to this than there seems....

Only Fools Rush In - Explicit - Post revolution Hank and Connor have been just friends, until Connor bids on Hank at a charity date auction.

Cross my heart and hope to live - Mature - Human Mafia AU - Connor is a hitman working under Hank when a job goes wrong and he gets badly hurt. But help arrives in time.

Warning: Suicidal thoughts mentioned

Series

Two Smiles - Explicit - Modern Human AU set in real world London

Getting Home - Connor is gravely injured on a stakeout and Hank puts him up in his home while he recovers, but feelings they’ve both done their best not to acknowledge blossom under the unique circumstances.

Warnings: Graphic depiction of injury

Pendulum - Hank and Connor’s relationship develops over the following months, and Connor is faced with some difficult decisions about what direction he wants to go in the future.

Warnings: References to criminal cases involving rape, spousal abuse, child abuse, child death, alcoholism.

Also includes references to Hank’s recovering alcoholism

This Isn’t Meant To Last - Explicit - Human Prostitute AU set in a world where indentured servitude was never illegalised

One Night - Hank’s idiot friends drag him to a brothel on a drunken night out, and he finds himself alone with a doe eyed beauty that thinks Hank is the one that needs to be rescued.

Warnings: Prostitution

Yours - Hank returns even though he knows he shouldn’t, and he’s determined to help get Connor out of there, but he doesn’t know just how terrible Connor’s situation really is.

Warnings: Sibling incest, aftermath of violence, heaping amounts of angst, dubious consent, drug use, prostitution.

Icarus - Connor signs a deal that offers freedom for himself and Nines, but how much should he trust Elijah Kamski, and who will catch him when the wax melts? Ongoing.

Warnings: Prostitution, angst, dubious consent

Reverse Physiology - RP logs undertaken with @sevdrag set in a Reverse AU and then cleaned up for publishing

History - Detective Connor Stern thinks the HK800 Cyberlife assigned to the DPD for these deviancy cases might be more than just a machine, but the HK800 in question, Hank, disagrees. Until he doesn’t.

Reciprocity - Explicit - A year on, Hank the HK800 and Detective Stern are still working together, dancing around a mutual attraction as clumsily as they can. When Connor is injured at a crime scene Hank takes him home to take care of him, and things spill over.

Mutuality - Explicit - Connor plans to start the New Year as he means to go on: by finally telling Hank how he feels, and where they stand.

Public Service Opportunity - Explicit - Hank and Connor get very carried away in the DPD bathroom. And again at home.

Our Solemn Hour - Collaboration undertaken with @sevdrag and @glass-noodle. A medieval AU in which Connor is the heir apparent of the Kingdom of Detroit, until his mother and father are killed in a rebellion. His brother Nines flees, but Connor is captured and held prisoner by men that have no love for him. Except Hank, who falls for him, and then works to try and help get Connor out so he can safely reunite with his brother.

Momentary Rest - Hank helps to clean up Connor’s wounds following an evening where he was forced to entertain his captors.

Warnings: Reference to sexual assault, injury

Cruel Intentions - Explicit - Hank and Connor have grown close. Close enough that when the rebels want information out of Connor, they know it’s not him they need to hurt.

Warnings: Graphic scenes of torture

Defeat - Explicit - Connor is regularly pulled away from the safety of his and Hank’s cell to occupy the men for the evening. Except this evening, they decide to have their fun with Connor and Hank in their cell, and force Hank to participate in Connor’s brutalisation.

Warnings: Graphic rape, injury

Pawn - Explicit - Connor is a chess piece in a game his father began, but his opponents mistake him for a pawn when he is in fact royal. Connor strategises, planning how to get himself and Hank out of there, while doing whatever he must to survive. And at the end he finds a new piece on his side.

Warnings: Graphic rape, injury

[allthingsglittergold]

Gold smiles and nods in agreement.

"Truthfully though what surprised me most was them wanting to open up. Many in their position happily don't." He looks around at the all-too modern community center. It was a little bit of an eyesore, in his opinion, but it did the job incredibly well. Not to mention it was not as if the villagers could be expected to house guests in their own homes, now could they?

"I did too, funnily enough. I have four I keep out of my primary team for league season and general coverage, in case anyone requires a break or needs to recover from an injury." He waves to his own belt, brow furrowed. "I don't believe you have met them all yet, with the exception of Otohime. I thought, like you, they deserved a break themselves."

Gold watches as May gets a few glances (including one at the back of her head by the Clefable) and can't help but chuckle. She's loud and energetic, but that's very much her charm. She's alive and wants the world to know it. That, Gold thinks, is incredibly admirable. The sort of young woman who was forced to escape her duties in the aftermath of everything she went through most certainly was not the one standing before him today.

And really, isn't that all they can ask for? Gold may not have had the same view on it as some of his peers did, but objectively he could understand that children should not have been forced to deal with what they did. At least Lance was there to support him for some of it - May, from what he understood, did not even get the aid of Hoenn's then-Champion.

What she says, though, earns a sympathetic nod.

"I can imagine so." He agrees - its odd for him too, but unlike May he hasn't had to rely on those Pokemon to survive for over a decade. Infact he can't imagine she's been parted for anything other than checkups for a very long time. "But I am certain they would both want you to enjoy yourself, no?"

Its an obvious thing to say, but the fact she's so focussed on food is a good sign that she isn't stressing too terribly much.

"Of course, that sounds great. Let me drop my bag off and secure my room, and we can go."

A brief exchange later with the woman at the desk and Gold's pushed the doors to the sleeping area open and slipped off to unload.

Though it'd not been long since their last link-up in the city of Mesagoza, May's no less ecstatic to see her first familiar face. By appearances, Gold is as worn and torn as she is; despite swooping in unceremoniously on the back of Wilma, the following bus ride took what little was left in her directly out. Thankfully, the common area of the community center is relatively peaceful and about noise-less, only the sounds of light conversation and the shuffling of papers behind the reception desk rising above a whisper.

"Thought th' same thing when I touched down," she remarks, assuming Gold probably felt a much stronger sense of familiarity than she upon his own arrival. Her stint in Johto was a brief one; after breezing through each gym under her guise as 'Sapphire', May was quick to move towards Kanto, and even quicker to move beyond that region into the next unknown.

The two continue to exchange small talk, though despite how small it may seem there is a building excitement they undoubtedly feel volleying between each other. Several perilous events have, in one manner or another, brought them into a truer friendship. Getting to relish that friendship, under circumstances that for once don't seem life threatening, will be a pleasant spin on their usual misadventures.

May's brought to the attention of the party she carries along her waist, face flashing excitably. "Got some of th' gang who don't get out much—thought they deserved a vacation as much as any of us." Her booming chuckle rises above the lounge's quiet calm, a few gentle glances in her direction reminding her to tone it down slightly while indoors. Reluctant as she is to abide by 'rules', she obliges.

"Gotta admit, it's weird not havin' Van or Vega with me." She doesn't divulge in the suspicious activity reported around Sevii as of late, activity not large enough yet to be of note beyond the townspeople living along the archipelago. Still, enough reason for May's most powerful of partners to stick closer to home while she tended to League obligations. "But, s'all good! Gives 'em both a chance to unwind, after all the travelin' we've done the last couple months."

Despite not having the best manners in the world—far from possessing the prim and properness the Johtonian gentleman before her displays—May knows better than to unleash her beasts within the confines of the community center. The caretakers have been so gracious already, and souring her image in such a place would surely reach back to Geeta. May's come to despise how much 'image' matters in her life again, but it is something she's still adjusting to. Her time here, in Kitakami, will be yet another test of learning how to harness it to her advantage.

"We can get all the homies together for some minglin' time after ya get settled—wanna head out for dinner, see what's up at these vendors I'm hearin' so much about?" As delightful as cafeteria cuisine sounds, it can't possibly compare to whatever foods the aromas floating around the central plaza allude to.

[therealvinelle]

What if it was Charlie and Bella that switched bodies upon Bella's arrival at Forks?

Oh, god, the awkwardness.

The only thing worse than being a shy, virgin teenaged girl in her father's body, having to figure out how dress in the morning and pee, is being a middle-aged man in his teenaged daughter's body.

Charlie and Bella are both shy and awkward people and it's very possible they would just die. Both of them. The embarrassment might just prove too much to handle.

If, however, it didn't, and they have to live like this...

Bella's education can't be put on hold, and Charlie can't afford to stop going to work.

They'd have to impersonate each other in their respective zones - Charlie goes to high school and brings the homework back to Bella, and Bella goes to work for Charlie and brings the paperwork home. At home they suffer terribly under the awkwardness of it all.

Bella as Chief Swan

She goes to work, and has no idea what she's doing. Someone is drunk in public and needs escorting home? Bella reeeeally doesn't want to be the one to do that. Or should she be arresting them?

She performs poorly at work, and relies completely on her colleagues for even basic judgement calls. Which is bad because she's supposed to be the sheriff, not them. From being a seasoned cop, chief Swan has suddenly become a jumpy rookie.

Charlie, hearing about this at home, is tearing his hair out and seriously worried about losing his job over this.

He has to tell Bella to take out a sick leave. She jumps on that.

Charlie as Isabella Swan

He goes to school, and is every bit as awkward as the new girl in class as Bella is, only with the added dimension that he's hanging around his friends' kids and that's... it's weird, it's just weird.

Weirder still is Biology class.

He's always had a high opinion of the Cullens. It's a good, wholesome family.

Or so he thought.

There is something wrong with that Cullen kid.

Charlie spends that Biology class feeling increasingly alarmed by Edward's behavior.

When Edward takes a leave of absence for a week after that he's not sure what to think. It's not enough to send Bella to have a chat with the boy's father, he'd only be putting more stress on his already stressed out daughter, but... Charlie doesn't like this. He doesn't like this at all.

Edward returns to schoo, and starts making small talk with Charlie, suddenly Mr. Polite.

It becomes real clear to Charlie, real quick, as Edward asks questions and is interested in Bella, that this kid is flirting with his daughter.

Oh, no. No. No for all the reasons. This kid is a creep, he looks creepy, and even if he was alright, Charlie absolutely cannot encourage any romantic endeavors while in his daughter's body. Oh no.

He cuts off Edward's questions with a polite, but firm "Sorry, not interested."

Edward is agog.

He is agog, astonished, mortified, and offended.

Who does this girl think she is?!

He shuts right up, and spends the rest of the day stewing. So this is what's happening in this girl's brain. It's not that she's not talking to the other students because she's mysterious and on a higher mental plane, nope, she's just that much of a stuck up.

"Not interested"?!

He recovers well enough, or, well enough to go talk to her after school that day.

He's standing by her car when she gets to it, smiling crookedly. "Hello, Bella," he murmurs, leaning against the driver door. (Can't have her leave before they've talked.)

Charlie blanches.

His instincts were right about this kid.

He finds himself suddenly glad he and Bella swapped bodies. He's an adult and a cop, he knows how to deal with this kind of situation. Bella is safe elsewhere.

This kid can look forward to a juvenile restraining order.

"Hello, Cullen," he says civilly, not wanting to escalate the situation. "Would you please move?"

Edward's boyish smile widens. "I just want a quick word with you, if that's alright," he says, not moving. He lowers his chin, and looks up at Charlie through his eyelashes. "It seems I gave you the wrong idea earlier."

Is this the kid's idea of making like he's not flirting with Charlie's daughter?

"I see," is all Charlie says, and throws a pointed look at the car door. "Look, I really do need to leave. I have to be at work in fifteen minutes."

Edward's lip twitches. Does she really.

At this point, he doesn't want her to get away so easy, if only out of spite. Again, who does this girl think she is.

"How about I give you a ride?" he asks politely, still smiling. Nevermind that he knows her scent would become overwhelmingly strong if they were in a car together. It's overwhelmingly strong as it is.

God, that scent.

Charlie, meanwhile, hearing those words, watching that kid's eyes look less and less human by the minute, is suddenly wishing he had a tazer. Scratch that, a gun.

Thank god it's him in this situation, and not his daughter.

"No thank you," he says tightly.

Well then.

Edward tried, he really did.

He gave her several chances.

All too aware of the many witnesses in the parking lot he lets Bella get into her car, and then once she parks her house in the driveway (of course she was lying about work!) and no one is there to see, he whisks her away to be killed in the woods.

The aftermath

Charlie-as-Bella is murdered in the woods, it's horrible, then suddenly he's back in his own body.

He tries to find the place he was taken to, desperate to find her, to find something, but Edward was moving at a pace where he couldn't see at all where he was going.

A funeral is held.

The Cullens show up, Edward sporting a pair of black aviators.

He goes to Billy, tells him what happened, that he was right about the Cullens being demons. They killed his daughter, and god knows who else they're going to kill.

Billy is horrified, but ultimately not surprised. The Cullens were lying about their intentions, then.

The treaty is void, and the Cullens have to die.

As Sam and others start phasing, they start preparing for war.

And this is where I'll leave this AU of, as we're headed towards a bloodbath.

[userholland]

Elaborate on why you didn’t like Cherry? I wanna know your opinion! :)

before i start, i am not saying that i hated this movie or i dislike it because it’s not a marvel film. i tried to go in with an open mind and i had read the book prior so, i was very anticipated for this movie! i am also not bashing on anyone else’s opinions about this movie as well, this is my personal opinion and if you don’t like that, that’s fine! i’m summarizing in points and calling it...

“liz’s cherry review: you can not like a movie, but enjoy the actors in it and understand the message. 🍒”

if i had to grade this movie, it would be at least a C- and the reason is because this movie was completely flashy to me. the characters were one dimensional, the directing was confusing, the dialogue was blunt and choppy and overall, i think they cut out so many great parts of what the book was and what made me want to see this film.

what i liked:

- the raw and real details of what going through addiction and withdrawal is. i think as graphic and comedic as it was, part 4/5 was always the hardest part to get through. you not only see the downfall of two characters that solely depend on each other, but you see that they also can’t save each other and what their demons. as we see, emily slowly disengages from cherry unless she needs to shoot up or needs pills. while their relationship wasn’t perfect, you still wanted them to both find some kind of hope and i think that is mainly supported by tom & ciara’s acting. it was nice to see in interviews that they actually formed a bond behind the screen and they could trust each other when it came to filming multiple scenes of “shooting up heroin” with real needles.

- the message of how veterans can feel like the country they fought for can also turn against them. even though it wasn’t as boldly executed as i thought, i think that the “aftermath of war” homage was necessary for this film since it’s sort of the reasoning for what cherry’s actions after in part 5 and 6. it’s something that real soldiers have to deal with, experiencing trauma and the urge to fight back when it’s suddenly stripped away when they are sent home. they have to go back to living normally, but they don’t know how to and i think again, it was very raw and it’s something we all need to hear/realize. yes, the army and the military overall today is controversial and always has been, but it still comes with terrible consequences that young men go through and some of nothing to turn to and feel betrayed.

what i disliked:

- the relationship and entire romance of cherry and emily. (aka leaving out some huge subplots that could have built up their relationship more). from what i remember about the book, this is not the cherry and emily i pictured. they weren’t some dumb kids who fell in love then got hooked to drugs. they were this dysfunctional couple who lied and cheated to each other, hoping they would both end the toxicity of their back and forth relationship, but they still persisted and soon, they were both violently torn with wanting to be normal, but they had to get high. there are multiples times in this film where emily is more than supportive and admits she loves cherry a few times, but in the book, she wasn’t there for him most of the time unless they were getting high together. they got divorced and they both cheated at least once on each other and i think that it would have been nice to see the struggle of their relationship and to question what kind of relationship it even was. i wanted to see the battle of “are they truly in love or are they using each other with the past they used to have” love that was in the book. i think they were brightened up too much and it’s sad that the main focus was their relationship throughout each part of the film, when reading it, to me, was really was like pulling teeth. while i can’t deny the chemistry of the characters on screen was amazing, i just didn’t like how they made them fluffy.

- the soundtrack. i’m not gonna explain much because this is truly opinionated and possibly a bit petty, but none of the songs or even instrumentals stuck with me. it didn’t make me emotional, it didn’t add to the scenes. they just weren’t for me.

- the one dimension i felt with emily’s character. now, i will say that ciara bravo acted the hell out of this role and it was amazing to see what she was given and she just ran with it. probs to her 100%, but i did think that emily’s character was completely underdeveloped in this movie. like in my previous point, emily was sort of a vice to cherry rather than a shoulder to cry on. he wanted her, he had her, he lost her a few times, he got her back, but he realized he ruined her. their whole relationship was manipulated, and i think the part where she yells at him in the bathtub is one of my favorite parts of the movie because that’s the emily i wanted to see more. she was the emily i read from the book and she was also dealing with her struggles with her home life. i think they could have given her more time.

- the madison scene. i was expecting madison to have a bigger part in part 1 where she’s only mentioned and obviously cherry had a sort of weird relationship with her, but they only explained it in a 2-3 minutes. it made it seem like she was just temporary from the start, which yes, she sort of was, but they ended up having sex & then he left her and even thought about her a few times. i just think that they could have either added more or completely cut the scene. but quoting the book there was nice too... i guess.

- everything felt rushed, and maybe that was their purpose, but i think this could have been something much more developed. what i keep saying is that this should have been a six part series. not only do you have an hour dedicated to every single part, but you also just have development of characters. that’s why we get invested in tv shows is because the characters have trials and tribulations of who they are. it was stressful and a bit boring to sit through a 2 1/2 hour movie in all honesty. i’m not saying that “oh this movie isn’t for people who have short attention spans”, but rather i would have liked to see more plot.

- the ending. i... hated the ending. it may be my least favorite part of the movie when it’s supposed to be the conclusion. maybe it’s just because a movie like this, i expect characters to be faced with the unknown, but this is a movie based on real life. the author has his own life now after jail and to see that ending? i was disappointed. instead of transition scenes of cherry’s “growth” in jail, i would have liked them to have short scenes of how his life in jail is like a god-send a bit. how he was able to step away from all the chaos he caused and he recovered somewhere with no vices around him. i don’t think it was a movie that had a “heart-warming” ending because you go through this rollercoaster of a relationship only for him to be waited for when it was not like that in the book.

overall:

i think this film was... okay. i could go on and on about the small things, but in short words, i disliked it because of it’s directing. i blame the russo brother’s execution on it, not saying that the overall product was terrible. i know some people had the same opinions and i can see why. do i plan ever watching it again? never. it’s not a movie that’s for me or a movie that i want to see pan out again because it was really hard to watch, not because of the gore or sex, but because it is a movie about struggle and pain. you don’t want to side with these characters, but goddamnit you want them to get some fucking help. great job to tom and ciara and it’s nice to know they are actually friends and trusted each other so much with this. i really hope to see them in more projects together in the future!

[bananzerocs]

Full Moon Living

Julian Fawkes, thirty-three years old, Private Investigator, is recovering from an accident. Attacked by a vicious dog on a job, he’s just recently gotten out of the hospital and finds himself struggling with some… odd symptoms. And he can’t remember for the life of him what happened last Tuesday night. 

Julian Fawkes: Werewolf, 33 years old, African American. Works as a Private Investigator. A somewhat hapless individual who tends to get in terrible scrapes. He was attacked by a vicious dog around six months ago and has been dealing with the aftermath of that, finding it hard to find work. He’s very shrewd under a thick layer of Patheticness, and crazy good at his job. He’s just had a rough go of it, he’s still paying off his student loans, you can’t expect him to just ACCEPT the possibility of Being A Werewolf Now. Someone buy him a beer and give him a break.

Lucia Fawkes: Human, 38 years old, African American. Julian’s sister. A clever and determined business woman with a very soft spot for her little brother, who she adores. The 24 hour diner she owns, Lucy’s, is her pride and joy, passed down to her from their parents. Her employee’s are like family to her, some of them have been working there as long as the establishment has been running. Lucia is calm and collected in times of crisis, and her demeanor makes it easy for people to trust her. And she is very worthy of that trust.

Alva O'Malley: Vampire, around 200 years old, Irish. Immortals are supposed to be wise, right? Not Alva. Turned in the midst of the Irish Potato Famine, she’s still the same scrappy, traumatized young woman who took a questionable deal because she didn’t want to die. She longs for people she can trust, but she doesn’t vibe with most vampire covens and humans tend to… die. She happened upon Julian completely by accident, realized how pathetic he was, and decided to help him out. Nevermind he’s a werewolf, that’s fine. He doesn’t even know about the Drama, anyway.

Cornelius Attwood: Vampire, age unknown, possibly British. Many names, many lifetimes, there’s no one left alive who remembers who he once was. And he likes it that way. Cornelius considers himself something of a trickster god, going around making deals with desperate, dying humans and manipulating them hopelessly. He probably read Dracula when it first came out and modeled his life after it, just a bit. He loves it when people owe him, and the fact that he’s run into two of his “offspring” in this city is positively delightful to him.

James Huxley: rootin’ tootin’ cowboy monster hunter who moonlights as a FANTASTIC fry cook at Lucy’s. He’s a good guy to know, always down to get in a bar fight for you and enter any situation with guns ablazing. He came to Seattle to hunt down a werewolf, but it’s been a much longer stint than he expected. Especially since the werewolf he’s after seems to KEEP BITING PEOPLE! Please let him go home, soon. He hasn’t seen a horse in a year and it’s really weighing on his psyche. He’s not a city man. At least having a gorgeous, intelligent boss is making his time in the Big City somewhat tolerable.

Andrew Mori: Human, 29 years old, English-Japanese. Andrew is on a mission. The Abbott family, his mother’s family, has been after the life of the same vampire for over 500 years. His Japanese Exorcist father married into the line of hunters, and Andrew’s mother’s mission passed down to her son. Engaged to a fellow hunter, Camille Beaumont, who went missing during a trip to America, so now he’s got two bloodsuckers on his hit list, the one who killed his mother, and the one who killed his fiance. 

Gertrude Delacroix: Human, late twenties(?), French. Getrude doesn’t know her real name, or her past, or how she ended up in an alleyway half dead from a head wound and carrying no form of identification. Actually, she can’t remember anything before she woke up in the hospital. Declared a Jane Doe, no one seems to have come looking for her, either. She’s not too torn up about that. Her current goal is to just get some new form of identification and a job so she can stop sleeping on her friend Julian’s couch, who she met in the trauma ward. 

Polly Flores: Human, 25 years old, Latina. Polly comes from a long line of powerful witches. A long line she has decided to keep hidden in the past, since she’s run away from home to pursue a writing career. Picking up an overnight waitress job at a local diner keeps her bills paid, and it's not that hard keeping her latent powers hidden. If glass tends to shatter when she’s angry, that’s nobody’s business but her own.

Ted Donovan: Vampire, around 100 years old, American. Born and raised on a dairy farm in Southern Georgia, drafted into the Second World War in the 40’s, half killed from a gunshot wound to the gut while evacuating members of the French Resistance, Ted got a second shot at life. He had a sweetheart to go home to, a family waiting for him… but the vampirism complicated things. So did the fact he was declared KIA. Ted’s been spending his afterlife in France, before he finally throws in the towel and decides to return home to America. And promptly runs into the hunter that’s been after him for a while. Well, let’s just forget about that. Ted can totally pull off Normal Guy. Totally. His waiter job at a 24 hour diner just makes things so much easier!

[anika-ann]

What I’d Never Say or Do (Had I Been in My Right Mind) - Pt.1

We Both Break Free (…if We Make It on Top)

Type: series, soulmate AU series  (part 1, part 2, part 3)  

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader    Word count (Ch1): 2050

Series summary: A story in which you officially come back from the dead, Tony with Natasha decide to take the blame for the whole mess and organize a party with unexpected party crashers and Bucky should consider thinking before speaking.

Fic title applicable to Tony, Natasha, Steve and his soulmate (aka the Reader), Bucky and his sort-of-buddy Matt Murdock and possibly few more.

Ch.1 summary.: In which Natasha and Tony go mad.

A/N: This series will be just a smaller thing, snippets set around The Age of Ultron (and later, Endgame). Later will be referred to as WINSoD because the title is a monster.

Warnings (ch1): mention of death and resurrection, mention of superntural creatures (see Errare Humanum Est), language, fluff

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Tony Stark was a ridiculously theatrical person.

While that was no news to anyone who knew as much as his name at least, but he still managed to outlive the legend, the reputation that preceded him.

He left you standing by the door, walked in to gain the undivided attention of the person inside the office and wanted you to reveal yourself in the exact right moment – a moment he trusted you to recognize.

Well. You assumed with a revelation like yours, it was rather hard to keep the drama away. But leave it to Tony Stark that he would blow it to proportion just to have fun.

“Tamara, darling!” the billionaire howled, the door opened only for a crack, so you could hear the reaction. You rolled your eyes, sighed and nervously looked around. The department was empty safe for the woman in the office, but it still made you feel uneasy; probably the effect of having to hide for the past weeks to avoid detection that could lead to a major scandal.

“Oh god, what happened?” Tamara asked, sounding as horrified as annoyed.

“Why do you assume— okay, that’s fair. How’s you hubby doing?”

“Alright,” the poor woman answered, clearly suspicious. “I more or less cleaned up the latest mess, so I’ve been coming home early…”

“Yeeeeah, about that. I have good news and bad news. Which would you like to hear first?” Tony offered cheerily.

“Bad news. Always. Let me just sit down-- no, no, don’t let me sit down, I have a feeling I’ll wanna pace irritably.”

That caused the corners of your lips to turn up. You were starting to like this woman already.

“I’m gonna need you to deal with a major scandal worthy of your skills.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere and I assumed as much.” Now you officially loved her – and you saw why Tony did too. Sass and snark; Tony’s language. “So, care to elaborate?”

“Nah, I’ll give you the good news. You’re gonna get some help. I brought reinforcements. She doesn’t have much experience with PR-” Try none. “-but I’m pretty sure she’ll be the one all the questions will be aimed at.”

“Oh my god, Anthony, did you get a woman pregnant?!” the woman hissed, not bothering lowering her voice. She sounded… kinda pissed. Which was reasonable, given the fact Tony Stark was happily-not-single with one amazing Pepper Potts.

“What? No! I have Pepper!” he opposed her, having the nerve to be offended. You smirked, hoping Jarvis caught that one line too. “This is all on Capsicle-“

“Captain Rogers got a woman pregnant?! What the-“

You felt like this was the moment.

“No, Mrs…. Tamara,” you said it the end, realizing Tony never told you the poor woman’s last name, and entered the room. “But his soulmate sort of came back from the death.”

Tamara was a middle-aged woman, with blonde medium-length hair and huge majestic glasses, business suit in a bloody-red colour and lips perfectly shaped in an “O” as you demonstrated the problem at hand.

“Holy. Shit.”

Leave it to Tony Stark he would flee the moment an actual explanation was needed, letting the others deal with the aftermath of his dramatic tendencies. To be fair, this was more of your drama, so…

“Good. Looks like introductions are not needed. I’ll send you the necessary data. Have fun.”

He strode through the door, winking over his shoulder at you and sending an air kiss to Tamara and you nervously smiled at the woman, your awkward side showing when you raised your hand to a reluctant wave before you could realize a handshake would be more appropriate.

“Uhm. Hi…”

The blonde blinked several times, shook her head with an incredulous chuckle and stuck out her hand.

“Hi. I’m Tamara, Antony Stark’s cleaning service. What can I do for you?”

Oh yeah. You’d get along just fine.

…

The story was simple and yet enough to make at least two Avengers very much hated.

Tony and Natasha, perhaps from some residual guilt of which you weren’t sure where was coming from, were determined to be thrown to the wolves of public.

Apparently, it had been all their idea – to have Steve and you kidnapped in the first place by the bomb enthusiast psycho. They had caught something fishy, been aware of it for a long time and opted for drawing the something rotten within SHIELD and company out by leaking early info on where you and Steve would be going to dates for several nights in a row without your or Steve’s knowledge. Perfect bait with nearly perfect surveillance background and safety measures.

Predictably, it had gone to shit and while you had never been blown up to death, which was something Steve had had zero clue about, you had been recovering from your life-threatening injuries for weeks in a hidden facility of top-secret location with way too much security. Still without Captain America’s knowledge.

Admittedly, this tale was a PR nightmare in making, not to mention a complete bullshit. Yet, the Avengers (sans Steve so far) unanimously approved of it. Tony and Natasha would be the first to blame, while the rest would reluctantly admit they knew as well and they had all kept it from Steve.

“You can’t be serious,” was all you managed to come up with, Steve sitting on the couch next to you while the rest of the team, the part that was momentarily on Earth, gathered around you to break you the news. This was what they came up with? “People will hate you.”

“And their hearts would still bleed for their golden boy, who would forgive us in time, especially since we offered his girl a job and an apartment she can’t quite refuse.”

“Wait, what kind of a job?!” Steve snapped, waking up from the deep thoughts he had fallen into with this stupid talk.

“The non-dangerous kind, Steve, calm down, please,” Natasha cooled him off flatly, but you could see her sincere gaze when it met with Steve’s. We wouldn’t endanger her, not again, it whispered. Steve’s shoulders slumped.

“What kind of a job?” you echoed, still worried. You assumed the apartment Tony mentioned was a place in the Tower, not bothering to ask about that part.

“PR. Unless you want to deal with your old job of which I have no doubt your best buddy would give back. I’d just like to remind you how the public reacted to you dying.”

Right. You wouldn’t mind a little privacy and safe space. You liked your old job, but it didn’t seem like an option now. Except… this was crazy.

“But they will still hate you. It makes you guys terrible friends and teammates. Frankly, it makes you kind of… terrible people,” you said slowly, taking time to examine everyone’s face.

“She’s got a point,” Steve agreed, wheels in his head clearly turning in a lightning speed.

“Meh. You should know what Fury’s up to during his ‘the end justifies the means’ periods – which is non-stop. I wouldn’t worry about that,” Natasha shrugged it off, pursing her lips a bit.

“Wasn’t it you who said you weren’t sure how to get her back to the world without having to explain she was literally led by an angel from Heaven?” Clint reacted to Steve, who sighed.

“Yes, of course, but this-“

“-is perfectly believable,” Natasha interrupted him, raising an eyebrow before beckoning to Tony and herself. “Me and Tony came up with the operation – a spy and a billionaire with questionable conscience. We pulled the rest of the team into the charade. This can work.”

“I can’t say I’ll enjoy this,” Bruce entered the conversation for the first time, surprising everyone. “However, it will allow you to walk the streets freely – with uncomfortable questions, yes, but it is a reasonable deal for us.”

“Steve? Thoughts?” the spy turned to him again.

Your soulmate observed his team for a long time, just like you, watching each of them individually, trying to read them as he himself was conflicted and undecisive. Finally, his eyes settled on you, a hint of an encouraging smile on his lips.

“Doll? How do you feel about that?”

The softness of his voice, the actual freedom he gave you when it came to this decision warmed your heart and made you shudder at the same time. You had no doubt he had come to a decision; but the final step was on you and you only. He would be affected too, of course, but this was your life that could turn upside down for like… what, the third time since you had met him?

You worried your teeth over your lower lip. “I mean… I’d really appreciate not having to hide in here all the time, but… I don’t want people to hate you, guys. I feel like I caused enough problems-“

“No, doll,” Steve whispered, his hand covering yours and squeezing firmly as he locked his gaze with yours and didn’t let go. “I’m not asking about them. I’m asking about you. They are clearly willing to do this.”

“Are you?” you questioned despite being confident about his answer.

“Do I love you?”

That caught you off guard. “Huh? That’s not what I-…?”

What did that even mean? Did he love— come again? How was this about his feelings towards you all of sudden? Was it time to question them? God, you hoped NOT.

“That the newest version of asking whether the sky is blue, doll,” he explained with a lop-sided smile and you released a breath you didn’t realize you had been holding.

Idiot. Sap. Sweet-talker.

“You’re such a sap.”

“You love it,” he hummed confidently. You smiled despite your better judgement. You loved him. And yeah, you loved this silliness too.

“I do.”

“So… are we doing this? Together?” His smiled grew a little wider, the twinkle you adored appearing in his eyes and you couldn’t but squeeze his hand back.

“Yeah. Together.”

“Jarvis, send Dum-E with some insulin shots,” Tony cleared his throat and you felt your cheek dust with a blush, roughly pulled out of the haze Steve managed to put you in once again. “We’re all having unhealthy sugar rush.”

The captain rolled his eyes. “Har, har, Stark. Are you guys really okay with this?”

Clint huffed. “It’s not like people will start planning our assassination more than they do already.”

“Tamara might,” Natasha opposed, amused.

“Ah, poor Tamara, I better bring a wine with me when asking…” Tony mused, scratching his goatee.

You turned to the red-head spy, not happy about being out of the loop.

“Who’s Tamara?”

Tamara, the head of the PR department for Tony (and sometimes for the Avengers too, because those two clients, so to speak, often came as a package deal), was currently starring at you speechless when you told her the tale of what actually happened and what lie they had decided to feed the public.

The silence lasted long enough for you to start worrying.

“Are you alri-“

“Angels are real?!” she burst out, nearly making you jump out of your skin with the sudden exclaim. You placed your palm over your chest to keep your racing heart inside your ribcage.

“…yes. But so are demons, shapeshifters, witches and so on, so…”

“Not a good thing to go public with. Got it. I understand the cover-up now. Though people being able to be resurrected would be enough on its own even without the… creatures. My my… we have a lot of work to do.”

“I’d imagine,” you agreed, not having a clue how to do this and where to start.

The woman looked at you over the rim of her glasses, her smile kind, in the Stark contrast to her loud cry only few second ago.

“…you don’t have any experience with PR at all, do you?”

“Nope,” you admitted, accenting the P and looking away, ashamed that Tony threw you into this without giving you anything helpful.

Now Tamara had to deal with the scandal and with you trying to help. That woman was worthy of some serious pay raise (though you had no doubt Tony paid her enough for her to own a villa or something, exactly as much as she deserved for dealing with his shit).

“I’m gonna kill Anthony, I swear…. Okay,  let’s get this shit on the road. Also, Jarvis? Tell Antony to get the freakin’ wine ASAP.”

Oh yeah. You would actually adore Tamara, you were sure of it.

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Part 2

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Here we go! The final part of the series. Admittedly, I’m not sure about quality of this thing, but I’m trying.

Chapter titles are taken from the chorus of Les Friction’s What You Need

Thank you for reading ♥

(I’ll be tagging my Errare Humanum Est taggies, if you don’t want ot be taggged anymore, let me know)

[falcor-thee-luck-dragon]

What a Time to be Alive - Diego Hargreeves x reader

Chapter 3- The Swedish Job

Summary: After learning of Diego’s wonderful ‘cough cough ‘terrible’ cough cough’ plan to stop the assassination of JFK. And figuring out Sir Reginald is in the recovered footage, you, Diego, and Five went out to find him. Ending the night with Diego getting shanked by his own father. Now here you are in the aftermath trying to convince Diego, he needs to rest.

Tagged: @white-wolf-buckaroo @la-vie-en-amour1 @fandomoverlord221 If you want tagged just hit me up.

This is like 55% smut ngl.⚔️

To make a long story short, you didn’t end up talking it out with Sir Reginald Hargreeves, or find anything worth dying for either. No hidden notes or files were to be found. And all that you took away from this fun little adventure. A bleeding Diego, and a cranky old man in a 13-year-olds body who also happened to get scratched by an aggressive monkey. Who turned out to be baby Pogo, things have been weirder. So you took it in stride, and hauled Diego’s ass to Elliot’s house, while Five drove, you keeping pressure on the wound the whole time.

——

Getting some medical supplies ready, you glance at an unconscious Diego, who’s sleeping soundly on the couch. Shirt off and looking as handsome as ever, contrary to the bloody bandaid covering his injury that you applied earlier. So far he was doing fine, and that’s all you needed to know. You cursed yourself for not stepping up in time to prevent this little mishap. But how could you have known Diego would get stabbed? All that mattered was that he’s alive and not dead. Ben wouldn’t want anyone else hanging around Klaus most likely anyways. He deals with enough nonsense already, you assume.

While holding the steel medical instruments, one in each hand, you carefully position yourself next to Diego. Slowly bringing the utensils closer to his damaged skin, preparing to cauterize the bloody cut. A second later you make contact, hearing a gross sizzling sound and smelling the burning of human flesh. Disgusting. Instantly Diego’s eyes shoot open, gasping at the hot pain your causing him. Being dramatic and starting to get louder, sounding like drums in your ears. Not helping whatsoever.

“Would you quite yelling I’ve never done this before” You tell him honestly while concentrating on the task at hand.

“What happened?” Diego asks you, confused as to how he got here.

“I saved you...again.” You reply bluntly, still working on his wound.

“Did you even listen to the plans?” He mumbles sassily.

“Your plans were stupid and it was entertaining watching you get your ass kicked by your own dad, if I might add.” You reply while finally looking up at him.

Suddenly he goes wide eyed again, lifting his head up to better access the situation. “Where are my clothes Y/N?! The hell happened to my clothes?” He says distressed, trying to get up.

Frustrated with his lack of listening skills you push the cauterizing tool closer into his skin, listening to the sizzle once again. Diego looks down at the damage as he yells out loudly in agony, then abruptly laying down with a groan in defeat. Falling unconscious from the large influx of pain, and conveniently not moving again either. Good.

Focusing back on the task of playing doctor, Five sighs, walking into the room. “Oh. He isn’t dead.”

“Disappointed.” Lila asks, trailing in after him from some hidden corner.

“Oh, to see you? Always.” He jabs back.

“So much hostility in such a tiny package. How are you two friends?” She asks, glancing at you unamused by Five’s rudeness.

“He’s an added bonus for dating Diego.” You vaguely explain, smiling to yourself as she nods and focuses her attention back to Five.

“Did you cut yourself shaving? I could tech you to shave like a big boy.” Quips Lila bluntly.

Snorting in amusement at her banter with Five, you look over to him. Who’s holding up a cotton pad over his scratch marks. “No, just ran into an old family friend.” He says tiredly with a sigh.

Looking briefly behind him, he points to Elliot who’s still tied to the dentist chair, unable to properly speak. “Neither of you untied him?” He asks.

“I was preoccupied.” You shrug.

“I wasn’t told otherwise.” Lila says, while sitting down and reclining in a chair.

——

While you’re throwing one of Diego’s knives into the nearby wall for some pastime target practice. An annoying alarm begins to sound throughout the room, “Hey, we got one. Hey, one of those machines you asked for his going crazy.” Announces Elliot from across the room in his swivel chair. Five speeding past you to see what the commotions about.

“Which one?” He asks quickly.

“It’s the, uh, atmosphere radar.”

“Good.” Five adds.

“I don’t get it. What are they tracking? A hurricane? A storm front?” Elliot wonders, confused as to what his radar system is showing them.

“Sound waves.” They say collectively in realization.

Five starts to back away, you knowing exactly what he’s about to do. A flash and he’s gone.

“Wow. What...Hey, where are you going?” Inquires Elliot, not used to Five’s way of handling things. Which is usually alone.

Giving him a shrug you turn back around to throw another knife, hitting the bullseye with a thud, and splintering the wood in the process. “I wonder if he’ll actually find Vanya?” You think, pondering the possible whereabouts of the rest of your friends.

——

Halting your arm from throwing another dart, your ears prick, abruptly catching the sound of Diego creaking the bed from the other room. Oh that man is not about to get up, you thought, turning to Lila. “I’m gonna have to forfeit, wolfman apparently thinks he’s okay enough to get up.” You tell her while rolling your eyes, setting your spare darts on the table and turning to find Diego.

Walking into his makeshift room you watch as he painfully stands up from the bed, grimacing and trying to breathe steadily, as not to cause anymore pain for himself.

“So what are your plans now tough guy, by the way Elliot’s made mushy tuna.” You tell him while leaning against the door frame.

“No. It’s a tuna mold.” Replies Elliot while walking away with his tuna mold, half offended.

“Y/N, where’s my shirt?”

“Last I checked you had a stab wound, so if you can all of a sudden miraculously harness my healing powers. Your ass is staying in bed.” You tell him sternly, knowing he’s not gonna listen.

“What, no I can’t, this is all connected to JFK, and my Dad’s right in the middle of it.” He explains while putting pants on. “That’s why he attacked me last night.” Looking to your right you pick up a mop-less wooden stick, and decide to have some fun getting him to shut up. “Cause he knows that I’m actually getting closer to..” he doesn’t have time to finish before you poke him directly into his bandaged bloody wound. Earning a gargled yell from him in the process, he then falls directly onto the bed grunting in pain from your cheap shot.

“Yeah you look like you’re ready to throw hands, why don’t you fight me right now. And if you win I’ll let you go.” You tell him with a shit eating grin plastered onto your smug face.

He looks up at you slightly offended and very much frustrated. “What is wrong with you?” He exclaims from the bed, still in pain.

Throwing your arms up in irritation, you try and reason with his stubbornness. “Just going out on a limb here, but if I remember correctly, you almost got killed last night. Take a day off, D.” You tell him, setting your temporary weapon off to the side. Swiveling back around on one foot, you gracefully jump onto the bed, positioning yourself right next to Diego’s discouraged and mostly naked form.

Propping your left arm up to look down at Diego, he tells you sadly, “I can’t believe I got shanked by my own father.”

“Wild right. What a prick.” You say trying to comfort him with a little humor. “Listen, if it helps any, he didn’t know you were his son when he shanked you.”

“Still, he cheap-shotted me.” He says still looking sadly off into nowhere. “Man to man, that son of a bitch wouldn’t stand a chance.” He tells you with hidden fight in his voice.

Not wanting to fully dampen his withering spirits to much but still wanting to tease him a little. You carelessly caress his skin, trailing up to push on his cut ever so lightly. Pulling forth a pained gasp from Diego, giving him a silent reminder that’s he’s in no shape to fight.

“Why didn’t you stick to the plan?” He asks finally turning to face you. Taking his statement into consideration, you lay down next to him on your back. Staring up at the ceiling, you can feel his eyes on you. “I trust you Diego, just not what’s always going on up in there.” Pointing to your head, referring to Diego’s own problem making skills. Breathing heavily you start, “I know what it’s like to die, it’s lonely and dark. You feel cold and weak, you can’t move, see, hear, or feel anything.”

Sighing you continue, “I remember the first time I died. Have I ever told you about it?”

Looking at you more intensely now he replies in a whisper, “Never.”

You glance at him for a moment before diving right back into your story, trying to make a point as to why he shouldn't be actively putting himself in danger. “I was 5 at the time, my heightened senses and all that other shit came to be before I figured out I was immortal. It was hard not understanding why I could hear so well. Or run in the dark through my house without tripping, unlike my parents, who couldn’t see shit without a flashlight.”

You kept your eyes fixed on the ceiling with a troubled expression crossing your face, letting the memories flood back into your mind. “A fire started late one night, mum had left one of her scented candles burning on a wooden table downstairs. She didn’t mean to leave it there, but the dogs were getting rowdy again, so she had to put them away in their cages. And dad was already in bed snoozing away. I could smell the smoke before I new something was wrong, then I heard my mother screaming and my dad yelling for her to calm down.”

“Shit” Diego whispered.

“The fire had burned so fast through our house, it had gone up the stairs and reached our hallway. Fortunately for my parents, their room was at the end of the hall, so their escape to freedom was easy. But unfortunately for myself, I was trapped, I couldn’t open my windows and the door handle burned to much to touch. I huddled in the corner of my room terrified, and then just like that, my door was gone and the flames shot in.” You tell him with a shaky breath as a lone tear runs down the side of your face and into your hairline.

“What did it feel like?” He asks softly, nervous as to what you’re about to say. Letting you take your time.

“It was excruciating. I’d never felt pain like it before. Sure I’d scraped my knee or walked into the wall a couple times when I was smaller, it happens. But this pain, this was like having boiling water poured over you all while standing on hot coals.”

“Jesus.”

“When the firemen found me, they thought I was a charred corpse. They picked me up and set me down in the grass, and that’s when I woke up. The guy fainted and my mother rushed over to me in hysterics.” You yawned, tired from the emotional roller-coaster you were currently putting yourself through. “After that they realized something was definitely up with me, and 7 years later they decided I was to much to handle and then ‘poof’ I was an unwilling member of the Umbrella Academy. The end.” You finish, turning your head to look directly at Diego, as he sits up on his right elbow turning to fully face you.

“I had no idea. Why haven’t you ever told me before?” He wonders.

Bringing your jaded gaze back to Diego, you go to explain. “It’s not like it’s that fun of a memory. And anyways you never asked.” You mutter, taking in a deep breath, and relaxing again.

“I guess we could stay longer...for a bit. I guess that’s okay.” He murmurs in that gravely voice of his that you’ve missed so much.

Sitting up on your left elbow to meet his dark eyes, faces inches apart, you start to contemplate where this close proximity may lead you. Smoothly hinting at your excitement you tell him while smirking, “I’ve spent one year and 7 months trying to find you, if you don’t kiss me in the next...” you don’t have time to finish before his lips come crashing onto yours for a sweet and hungry embrace.

Pulling away instantly you lightly slap him across the face, making him groan loudly and throw his hands up to his stinging skin. “What the hell, Y/N?! What is wrong with you woman?!” He exclaims muffled by his hands, until he pulls them away to reveal an incredibly confused expression littering his features.

Laughing for a moment, you smile while climbing on top of him, pinning him to the bed between your unmoving legs, “You didn’t let me finish.” You say lovingly, hovering over Diego’s shirtless body.

“Ow. Oh, oh, ow, ow, ow.” Diego suddenly says while flinching in pain at the sudden new pressure of your body weight on his torso.

“Oh, shit. Sorry love.” You tell him smiling as you lean your body onto your legs more, so you’re not completely crushing him.

Mock glaring up at you, Diego breaks out into a huge smile. “Just. Be gentle.” He says kissing you again. “God, you’re the most weirdest and fantastic person I’ve ever met.” He says breathlessly, staring deep into your beaming eyes. Not being able to hold yourself back anymore you lean down attacking his lips in a heated embrace. His hands instantly go to your hips on instinct, like he’s done it a million times before. You both begin exploring each other’s bodies like it was the first time all over again, wanting nothing more then to feel every muscle and curve both of you have to offer.

Breaking his lips away from yours, he quickly goes to tell you something important, as a fake pout falls to your face, “These have to go.” He says, as he reaches for the bottom of your white tank top and begins to pull it up, you helping him speed up the process. Taking your shirt in one hand he throws it, not giving two fucks as to where it could have landed. You also not caring in the slightest, just eager to get things rolling. Next you skillfully unclasp your bra, taking it off and flinging it off to the side. Diego stares at you with a giant grin spread across his face. Reaching out to gently caress the sides of your breasts, his hands slowly trailing up your body to bring you down to kiss him again.

“I guess I won’t be needing these.” You mumble in between kisses. Referring to your pants and underwear, annoyingly concealing the prize jewels. On both of you in fact. Awkwardly struggling to rip your pants off, you lay next to Diego for a brief moment finally getting your jeans and chucking them across the small room. Jumping back into action, you straddle him, hands roaming all over each other once again. As your lips make contact, savoring every second with him for as long as you can.

Moaning in deep satisfaction you take a breath to tell Diego, “As much as I’m digging you in white, these things gotta go.” You explain while kissing his cheek, sneakily reaching down to tug at his tight white underwear that now are concealing a noticeable bulge. “You first mi amor.” He purrs seductively in your ear, you just about die. As gracefully as you can muster, you tear your undergarments off accidentally kneeing Diego in the gut, thankfully not near his stab wound. “Oh shit.” You laugh breathlessly, as Diego grunts in pain but only for a moment, before flipping you over, pinning you to the bed. “I’ll let that slid.” He says smiling at you, kissing you again real quick before he takes off his own underwear. Revealing the true king jewels, you’ve been absolutely dying for, no pun intended.

Diego looks deeply into your eyes, opening up your legs and kissing your inner thigh. Sending shock-waves of pleasure and pure joy throughout your whole being. God it’s been a long fucking time, you thought. As agonizingly slow as ever, Diego gently kisses your stomach. Inching his way up to your mouth with light butterfly kisses that make their way up in between your breasts, then to your collarbone, neck, cheeks, and eventually arriving at your wanting lips. All the while he continues to feverishly feel you up, you not shying away as you do the exact same. In true Diego style, without warning he thrusts into you, making you moan loudly in pleasant surprise. His thrusts are slow and full of passion at first, both of you savoring the moment for as long as you can take. Until it’s not enough for you anymore, you begin bucking your hips into his, trying to get more friction. Diego takes your not-so-subtle hint and obliges by picking up the pace., pounding into you harder, perfectly hitting your sweet spot every time.

 “Ah, fuck.” 

He grunts while pushing you further into the mattress with that muscular heavenly body of his. He sloppily kisses the side of your opened mouth that’s quietly releasing satisfied moans with each new thrust of his cock into your soaking walls. To say that you are on cloud nine would be a severe understatement. It’s been way to damn long since you’ve had a good fuck, and there was no way anyone from the 60′s was getting anything from you while you patiently waited for Diego. The bed shakes as his sweaty body rocks you back and forth into the soft blankets, your hands hold onto his back for support while he continues to fill you up to the max as he pulls in and out of you like a madman. You suddenly let out a shaky gasp when his hard cock hits your sweet spot in the most perfect of ways. He leans his elbows onto the bed as he looks down at your pleased face with a smile, satisfied with his fruitful work at making you get this way, so completely undone, and all because of Diego. You bite your lip as a knot begins to form into your dripping core, you open your eyes to watch as Diego appears to mirror you, he begins to moan loader as he starts pumping even harder into you, teetering on the edge of oblivion, you about to do the same. A couple more deep thrusts from Diego’s angelic body sends you fully over the edge, screaming in ecstasy as your orgasm explodes throughout your entire being. Practically sending sparks of electricity racing through you, your walls tighter around Diego’s cock as you ride out your high. With one more ragged thrust, Diego moans as his own orgasm hits, loudly spilling into you with everything he’s got left to give.

Kissing your sweaty cheek, Diego pulls out of you, flopping on the bed to your right while making it shake for a second. “God I love you, Y/N.” He says tiredly, not sure if it’s from the blood loss or your goddess-like body. Turning to face Diego, you scoot in closer, cuddling him as you rest your head on his shoulder. “I love you too, my hairy wolfman.” You tease him with a laugh. Closing your eyes you start to feel the weight of the past 24 hours hit you like a sack of bricks. Smiling in content and comfort, you reach down to pull the covers over your naked bodies, then throwing your left arm around Diego’s chest, hugging him gently before immediately dozing off. Diego lightly kissing your forehead, falling asleep shortly after.

——

Meanwhile.

“Hey, while those two love birds are busy I’m gonna head out, be back soon. Aight.” Lila tells Elliot, waving at him as she hastily slips out the backdoor, like a thief in the night.

Waving awkwardly back he watches as she leaves, hearing the sound of a projectile hitting the bedroom window. Causing him to jump, and grumpily walk downstairs with his tuna mold in hand.

[snesdudes]

FIST FIGHTING WITH FIRE

chapter III

Pairing: Mason x f!Detective (Alice Santos)

Warnings: Book 3 demo SPOILERS!!! Cursing, some angst, mentions of sex, a guy being a creep™, I guess. Sorry if there are any mistakes!

Word count: ~1.8k

Summary: A week after that scene on Haley’s Bakery, Mason deals with the aftermath of his words... Or has he been dealing with it since the very moment he said them?

Read on ao3

chapter I ⭐ chapter II ⭐ chapter IV ⭐ chapter V

                                         ☾  一一一一一一一一一   ☽ 

Outside the bar

"Can we just… not do this?" Alice spoke into the phone, her free hand running through her red hair and messing the waves she had carefully done that evening. A sigh from the other end of the line indicated her mother's reluctance to let it go.

"You seemed to be perfectly integrated with the Unit some days ago, and this week you made up a meeting with the Captain just to avoid coming to the warehouse."

Alice cringed, not her finest moment. "Look, I'm with them now, having a drink together. We're fine. Everything's fine."

"Does this have anything to do with what's been going on with Mason?"

Hearing his name made the detective snap. "Wait, is this you being a mother or being a boss?" She spat, venom on her every word. "Because you've barely gained the right to meddle in my life as either of those things."

The silence was deafening, and Alice's heartbeat kept getting faster and faster. "You weren't there when Bobby broke my heart, you don't have to be here now." Her voice cracked as she finished the sentence and she had to clear her throat.

"Is that what happened? Mason broke your heart?" Tears threatened to spill out of her green eyes at the genuine concern on Rebecca's voice.

"No, he didn't." She answered with a whisper, rebuilding her carefully placed walls.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I am. I have to go, they are waiting for me."

"Alice, wait, tell me -"

She finished the call and stared at the phone's screen for a few seconds, taking calming breaths and trying to swallow the tears. The Unit would pick up on any change in her mood so she better calm down fast.

"Detective Santos. That looked intense."

She turned around quickly, finding the bearded man they were discussing inside before her mother called. Alice cleared her throat and offered a wobbling smile. "Kinda. Mr Rogers, wasn't it?"

"Please, call me Owen." He said, a wolfish smile on his lips as he offered his hand to her. Alice couldn't help but think of all the times the smirks Mason threw her way had seemed wolfish to her, and how different the chill she felt going down her spine was to the one she was feeling now.

Still, she was the detective of this town, so she shook his hand as professionally as she could. He took advantage of the situation to pull her slightly towards him, making her stumble on her heels and gaining a frown from her.

"I couldn't exactly walk up to you inside, surrounded by those guys. Popular, aren't you?"

Alice pulled her hand away and took a step backwards, creating some distance. "Those are my friends. And I would carefully think about what you say next if I were you, because so far you're doing a terrible job at flirting with me."

Owen blinked, slightly taken aback by her brashness, but recovering quickly and assuming she was challenging him. He didn't know he had picked the worst moment to annoy the detective, who usually was rather friendly and generous with her smiles. But the night had been a whirlwind of emotions and she was feeling irritated, miserable and ready to either go home and curl into the bed or get back inside and get shit faced drunk. Definitely not in the mood to deal with this man.

"I'm just saying you've probably let some of them get a taste." His grin widened, eyes travelling down her body. "Thought maybe I could be next. I'm sure I could teach you a couple of things… or maybe you could show me what you can do."

She opened her mouth to reply when a low growl interrupted her, making Owen turn around and allowing Alice to see Mason standing there, fists clenched and eyes narrowed, lips curled in a snarl. He looked dangerous, even more so than he usually did, and Alice tried to look at him from a stranger's eyes. Everything in his body and expression was screaming 'predator'. It would be the kind of situation where your body asks you to run even if you aren't sure about why you should be running. You just know you should. But she didn't feel fear, his anger was not directed towards her. She felt a thrill going through her body at his presence, forgetting her bruised heart for a moment.

"What the fuck did you just say to her?" The words were still growled as he stepped forward, and Owen took a step backwards, nearly colliding with the detective, who moved aside and around him. Mason reached out a hand to her, not moving his stormy gaze from the bearded man. Not even thinking, she slipped her hand into his and he gently moved her closer until she was tucked against his side. The detective had expected Mason to push her behind him, not keeping her by his side. She felt both of their bodies relaxing slightly at the touch, as if being close to each other was the only thing they needed in the world.

Owen looked at them with slight fear in his eyes. He could swear he had seen a glimpse of inhumanly big fangs when the long-haired man snarled. Mason's hand rested on her waist and her manicured one grabbed his shirt, his dark hair falling down his face and getting mixed with her red locks, tickling her cheek. He looked at him as if he was about to rip him apart, and the look on the detective's face let him know she would very much allow it… maybe even help him.

"Look," he croaked, "I didn't know she was with you. No harm done, okay?"

But his words didn't have the desired reaction. Another growl, and his snarl widened. It was taking all his self control not to pounce on this guy, but he knew he shouldn't. "So it was okay to be a creep to her when you didn't know? But suddenly a bad idea now you know she's my girl?"

Mason didn't miss the way her heart leaped inside her chest at his words and a pang of satisfaction almost made him shudder. If he hadn't been so fucking angry at the man standing before them he would have probably gotten goosebumps at the way she subtly pressed herself closer before speaking.

"You gotta learn how to treat women like human beings, you fucking dirtbag. If I see you creeping on anyone of this town I'll have you arrested for harassment."

The man nodded enthusiastically as he took another step backwards. Mason rolled his eyes with a huff.

"One of us is gonna kick your ass if you don't get lost. Now."

That was enough, and in a few seconds they were left alone in the street. Mason relished on her closeness, the scent of her honey scented shampoo tickling his nose, the warmth of her body expanding through their clothes and seeming to reach inside him. But she cleared her throat and he lost it all. She took a step away from him and the hand that had been resting on her waist fell limp to his side.

"Thank you. It would have been awkward if the detective of the town punched a newcomer in the dick." She chuckled awkwardly. "So, you know, thank you."

"You already said that."

She met his eyes and his forced grin let her know he was trying to mess with her to lighten the mood.

"Right. We should, uh, go back." She moved to walk past him, but his long fingers curled around her forearm and she spinned around to meet his face, now suddenly serious. He opened his mouth and closed it, his brow furrowed as if what he was about to say was too difficult to say it out loud. His fingers loosened their grip and Alice thought he was going to let her go. Of course he was going to let her go. He wouldn't face the way he hurt her because that would mean he accepted they had something worth saving. Her eyes dropped to his grip, wanting to watch, forcing to accept, he was never going to make her stay.

But his fingers tightened with new force, and her gaze snapped back to his face.

Grey eyes, tempestuous with emotion, stared at her, moving wildly through her features before he finally found the words.

"Don't go."

Her breath caught on her throat at the thought that he wasn't just talking about going inside.

He feels those things, alright. You gotta be patient while he figures them out.

Felix's words echoed inside her mind. The seconds that went by seemed to last an eternity, before she nodded slowly. Mason's shoulders dropped as he exhaled, as if a great weight had been lifted off them.

"Okay, Mason."

Meanwhile, inside the bar

"Maybe one of us should have gone outside to mediate." Nate sighed, staring inside his glass of scotch. "Those two aren't exactly good at sharing how they feel."

"Who knows." Felix shrugged, a grin widening in his face. "Maybe they're already back at Allie's apartment."

"Why would they…? Oh." Nate realised, eyes widening.

"They say the bigger the fight, the best the make up sex gets." Felix wiggled his eyebrows. "If that's true, they're in for a hell of a night."

Nate cringed, very much wishing Felix hadn't put that image of his friends inside his brain. "Ugh. I just hope Mason finds a way to fix whatever he's done without hurting her anymore."

"She knew what she was getting into by getting involved with someone like Mason." Adam said matter of factly. "He doesn't really try to hide his brashness."

Nate nodded, Mason was all sharp edges and bluntness, while the detective was much softer, gentle. It was easy for someone like her to get cut while trying to hold on to someone like him. Maybe it was a matter of how many cuts and wounds she could resist before letting go. But he liked to believe that wouldn't happen - instead, her softness would envelope his sharpness, showing him a side of himself he didn't even know it existed. A small smile bloomed on Nate's face as the thought.

"I think they both have to learn how to be around each other now that their relationship is changing."

Adam shrugged, but Felix let out a dreamy sigh. "You're such a romantic, Natey. Mason would learn so much from you if he didn't get nauseous every time he thinks about love."

Nate chuckled. "You know, maybe that's about to change."

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A/N: Let me know if you want to be tagged in the future! Thank you for reading, feedback is appreciated 😍

TAGLIST: @agentnatesewell @gloynporslen @sunchipz @agentmasonjars @msjpuddleduck @utterlyinevitable @kat-tia801 @oxjenayxo

[spookyshake]

*proceeds to do exactly everything but work on my pets* H-have some faeries and lore dump I had rotting in the cabinet

[Light Faerie - Justine] A stern light faerie who manages Faerieland's treasury. Rules and regulations are her creed, and she will not allow any misdeed under her watch.

Despite her uptight demeanor, she has a peculiar fondness for games of chance. She seems to have an unwavering confidence in the certainty of numbers- and the dice, once cast, are fair and absolute arbitrators in her eyes. Of course, it could just be that she's addicted to gambling. When there's no clear protocol for a situation, she opts to flip coins and leave it to luck and happenstance.

-Fwaku's life was saved by Justine, who had happened to be passing by the area. She decided to flip a coin to determine his fate- and as luck would have it, he would survive. -The townspeople that had found Fwaku suggested that Justine should give the draik a name. The exchange probably went something like this: Townspeople: Thank you great faerie!! Would you give the honor of naming this child you just saved????? Justine: (uh shit) Give me a moment. *furious dice rolling* Justine: I grant this child the name...F..W...Q...Fwaku. Townspeople: WOW!! WHAT AN HONOR!!

(What kind of name is Fwaku......)

-While Fwaku is generally irreverent and unlikable to most parties he comes across, he displays a great deal of respect towards Faeries because of his background. Justine, in her act of saving and naming Fwaku, also unwittingly left him with a strange blessing: he has extremely good luck to the point of absurdity, which has saved his skin from karmic retribution countless times in the past.

---

[Fire Faerie - Heliae] A go-getter fire faerie with a particularly strong affinity to her element. Still young for a faerie, she has trouble controlling her excessive energy and often bursts into flames when she's excited.

Fun-loving but a bit careless, she loves to attend concerts, festivals, and other events where crowds gather...a serious fire hazard waiting to happen. She doesn't seem to fully grasp the danger she poses to those around her, and was originally sequestered away in Faerieland before she decided to run away- as you do, when you're a young faerie whose had your freedom denied.

Very explosive. very explosive. very explosive.................................

---

[Earth Faerie - Lottie] A lax but cryptic earth faerie who appreciates tranquility. She wandered into Kiko Lake some long time ago, and has since stuck around trying to achieve what she calls 'perfect bliss.' Generally found quietly meditating and contemplating her surroundings- usually with sweets and a cup of borovan as accompaniment. Her perception of time seems to be a little out of sync with the world around her.

Though usually impassive and calm, she hates above else having her peace and quiet disturbed. She will, with a quiet but tremendous fury, catapult raucous intruders out the window. Her longest recorded throw was over a mile! So impressive is her throwing skill, that kiko children often dare one another to see who can get flung the farthest.

-Because the architecture around Kiko Lake are built with kikos in mind, it's not uncommon to see the faerie bump her head on the door frames and ceilings. Fortunately, there's also never a shortage of bandages in the vicinity.

[Dover] Brown Kiko. Ever since Lottie began living on their family land generations back, their crops have prospered- especially asparagus. Now, the family is in the Borovan business, exporting premium blends of chocolate and asparagus for which Kiko Lake is now famed.

Dover isn't the kiko's real name- that was the name of his great great grandfather, but Lottie doesn't seem to make a distinction. All of her little helper kikos are 'Dover' to her. His job is to run around fulfilling Lottie's errands, whether that be procuring snacks or chasing pesky kids out of her yard.

---

[Dark Faerie - Alluce] A vain dark faerie living near Neovia, known to kidnap Neopets to force into servitude. She periodically terrorizes the citizens of Neovia to spread her influence. She wants, above all, to be feared and revered! ...but her actual ambitions tend to be quite small and petty. Knowledgeable about mirrors and magic involving them.

Though she revels in garnering fear, she's rather full of fears and cares herself- the thought of the true horrors lurking within the depths of the Haunted Woods makes her quiver. All smoke and mirrors, no bite.

-Doesn't get along well with Clariote. Alluce can't maintain her high-and-mighty mistress of evil theatrics against Clari's general irreverence. ABSOLUTELY D I S R E S P E C T F U L

---

[Air Faerie - Nephele] A fickle air faerie scout with a light-hearted but arrogant demeanor. One of the faeries tasked by Justine to recover Faerieland's lost artifacts, which were scattered across the lands in the aftermath of the Faerie's Ruin. Holds a strong belief that Neopets are lesser beings, considering them to be incompetent without Faeries.

Rand (Faerie Tonu) and  Bell's (Faerie Tuskaninny) supervisor. She usually leaves the Neopets to do all the dirty work and takes credit for their efforts, usually under the justification that Neopets 'owe' the Faeries anyways.

---

[Social Media Faerie - Papilla] A young faerie, rare in her time (Einse’s Future). Big-time celebrity and social media influencer, she loves travelling Neopia and blogging about her adventures (and promoting sponsored products.) Has a great love towards Neopets and lives life at her fullest interacting with them, but holds feelings of isolation due to being perhaps the last known faerie in Neopia. She’s invested in discovering why Faeries have all but disappeared in her time, and spends some of her time flitting across Neopia looking into the matter. She has a terrible sense of humor, and she sometimes has strange fits where she floods her social media with incomprehensible jokes and memes- terrorizing her followers’ feeds. She does all this in earnest, thinking her jokes are hilarious, but her fans generally think she’s just trolling and get a kick out of it. This creates a strange cycle of positive reinforcement as Papilla continues to get many reactions from her bad jokes, reinforcing her confidence in her humor. SOMEONE STOP THIS FAERIE

------------------------------------

[The dynamic between Faeries and Neopets] Neopets aid Faeries, Faeries grant blessings. The dynamic between Neopets and Faeries is mutually beneficial, for the most part.

-Power of belief is essential to grant power to a Faerie's magic. Neopets, by helping Faeries on the premise that they will receive a reward or be granted a blessing, creates a transaction of belief. This is the premise of Faerie quests, which plays a vital role in powering the barrier that protects Neopia from wraiths (among other things.)

-Faeries are perhaps better defined as 'memetic' as opposed to 'elemental'- their magic is framed on a concept or idea, which relies on the belief/understanding/recognition of the themes surrounding the idea in question. The more wide-spread and strongly understood the idea, the greater the manifestation of a faerie's magic. (Motes, though simpler entities, also work on the same logic)

The basic elements, for example, are widely and easily understood as a concept- which may be why the majority of the faerie population falls in this category. (Something like a singular 'Fire' Faerie, for example, would probably be TOO POWERFUL AN IDEA to contain as a single being, so instead there's just a lot of them.)

-Names are very important, because they give shape to a concept or idea. -When they're cut-off from belief, they lose strength (Bottled Faeries) -They can shrink! Probably to conserve magic. -A Faerie without wings is essentially unheard of (with the special exception of Water Faeries). Taking away their wings is one of the most heinous things you can do to a Faerie. -Faeries are born spontaneously? Most of them just appear one day out of the ether or whatever. -They're ageless and nigh immortal

they're......the OG gijinkas <-- hold on this is actually somewhat relevant but that's a story for another time

[Shenkuu - A curious case study of Kaia, the Shenkuu Faerie] Kaia the Shenkuu Faerie appeared spontaneously in a relatively recent timeframe- probably within an average Neopian lifetime. She's a young faerie, younger than most of her kind. She's in the same category as Jhuidah and Taelia- faeries with a strong conceptual connection to the land they watch over.

There are no other (known) faeries in Shenkuu, which implies that the faerie population in Shenkuu is very low or...non-existent? At the very least, it can be said that Faeries are novel in Shenkuu, given that Kaia mentions how everyone stares at her. If we go a step further, we could postulate that Faeries, as a concept, isn't a part of common knowledge in Shenkuu as a whole.

Almost as if the concept of 'Faeries' have never existed here...?

-Shenkuu was a land that had barred itself from the outside world for an undetermined amount of time. The land only recently opened their doors to the rest of Neopia (Cyodrake's Gaze) (*in my lore I'm pinning that down to like 10~15 yrs ago for character reasons but passage of time in Neopia is not very well defined so.... shrugs) -It can be assumed that there was still some exchange occurring with the outside at a smaller scale (Airship merchants, travellers who ended up in or out of Shenkuu by happenstance, Neopians living in areas close to but not quite in Shenkuu proper, etc) -Assumably, Shenkuu has a history perhaps dating back to the heyday of Altador and other 'ancient' civilizations (1000+ years) -This creates a situation where: a. There never were faeries to begin with in Shenkuu or b. There used to be faeries, but they disappeared from Shenkuu AND from common knowledge

-Kaia's manifestation may have been the direct result of the opening of Shenkuu to Neopia- with the arrival of outside trade and ideas, so too did the knowledge of Faeries. Once the faerie 'meme' took hold in Shenkuu, where there was a void of Faeries, it took form as the Shenkuu Faerie: Kaia. This is why she's so young as a faerie- she probably spawned sometime between Cyodrake's Gaze and the present day. (Alternatively, she might have existed in Shenkuu before the events of Cyodrake's Gaze but I think it still holds that she popped up in a pretty recent timeframe.) Kaia herself only seems to know Faeries through the knowledge she received from travelers.  

[hopscotchandlemon]

Show Your Love

Also on Ao3

It was the hardest decision you’d ever made but as you closed the door on your motel room, you felt it had been the right one. That didn’t stop you feeling guilty. By now, Jethro would have read the ‘Dear John’ letter you’d left on his mantle piece. You wondered if he’d actually miss you, he’d barely seen you in the last month.

Dropping your case, you eased off your shoes and lay down on the starched bedding. Travelling had not been kind to your muscles and you tried to get them to relax. You’d been so wound up about how your relationship had ended, you doubted your body could remember what it was like not to be in a tense state. As various aches and pains wracked your spine, you sat up, reaching for your bag for your bottle of water and your painkillers. You took out the new phone you had purchased, your old one having been taken apart of dropped in a bin not far from Jethro’ home. You’d been careful when selecting somewhere to run to and made it as difficult as possible for the Special Agent to find you knowing he’d find you out of stubbornness rather than a desire to put right what had gone so terribly wrong. You didn’t even know where the problem lay. All you knew if that the man you’d thought you loved had become someone who at home swayed between anger and apathy. Sure, you knew he could be difficult, umcommunicative and you’d be the mistress to the much more demanding wife that was his job, but you also knew he could be considerate, warm and even gentle.

It was the fall when things had changed. You’d been living together for a year having met the previous fall when a case bought Special Agent Gibbs and Special Agent McGee to your workplace, George Washington University, where you were a professor in mechanical engineering. You’d been able to advise the agents on the type of technology that they’d recovered from the home of a known domestic terrorist. A week after they’d closed the case, Gibbs had returned to offer his thanks and to ask you out to dinner.

That last fall, you’d been finishing up after a day’s work when McGee had turned up at your office to tell you Jethro had been seriously injured in a high speed crash and to take you straight to the hospital. Indeed the doctors told you to expect the worst and you spent the next few days in limbo, surrounded by his team as you all hoped for a miracle. A week later that miracle happened, and he was taken off the ventilator. You’d joked that it was much less the sign of a miracle and more a indication of how stubborn the man was, refusing to conform to what everyone else had thought was his demise.

You got him home and while you never expected him to be a model patient, his mood swings and his detached persona made him near impossible to deal with. In time his body healed but his demeanour did not. You couldn’t quite believe it when he passed a psych evaluation to go back to work but he’d had years of practise at convincing everyone he was just fine. He deceived himself that he was fine to the point he was convincing. He seemed a different person at work while at home, the layers of untreated trauma made any kind of relationship near to impossible. Eventually he started to avoid you. At first you worried about him but then you didn’t have the anxiety of wondering what mood he was in. If he ever was in the house at the same time as you, he’d spend most of it in his basement.

That’s when you knew it was time to leave. You had to get away for a bit so you waited until spring break and booked this motel in New York state for a week. You used cash to get the train tickets and rented an apartment in DC so you had somewhere to go once your week was up.  If Gibbs wanted to find you after that you’d talk, but you needed the break and for him to have some time to reflect on what he wanted.

The week passed quietly. You’d enjoyed the space and had explored the state as much as you could. The journey back was arduous but once you were home, you were able to get yourself in to a new routine. As you finally got yourself back on the grid, you knew sooner or later Jethro would find you and that happened the Friday after you started back at work.

***********************

Everyone at NCIS was on the receiving end of Gibbs’ wrath. It was Spring Break so there was talk of holidays and plans among those lucky enough to snare the time off while those with kids discussed what the had planned. He turned up on the Monday morning and barked orders at everyone. There was no case to keep them all busy so they took it in turns to escape to Abby’s lab to discuss what had turned their team leader in to a bear with a sore head. McGee had some insight although he knew better to share it. Gibbs had asked him to ping (y/n)’s phone. Believing they had misplaced it, he told his boss that it’s last location was in fact his own house but the battery might have died as it hadn’t moved since Friday. This had not helped his mood and he’s asked McGee send him their credit card statements and if they’d booked any flights. When McGee came back with nothing of note, Gibbs mood darkened even more. The team were relieved when a case came up on Tuesday. It was bad news for the petty officer but a relief to the NCIS agents.

The following Monday, Gibbs mood was still  and no one in the bullpen dare speak. McGee did another search for (y/n) and to his relief they started to turn up in searches. A new tenancy agreement, a new phone. He wanted to tell Gibbs but he didn’t want his boss to think he was prying. So when Gibbs was called to Vance’s office just as they were about to go home, he printed of details of the tenancy agreement and left them in an envelope on Gibbs’ desk before leaving the building.

***********************************

Gibbs knew he had behaved badly but it was his way of coping with the aftermath of that car crash. He’d been so disorientated when he first came round. He saw Shannon and Kelly a great deal and that gave him some peace but when they disappeared to be replaced by tubes entering his body and machines bleeping , he felt he’d descended to hell and seeing his wife and child had been a cruel trick. The Friday he’d realised (Y/N) had gone, he’d decided to blot it all out with Bourbon. He did this all weekend putting him on a crash course with the week ahead. By Monday he wanted to find them and put things right. Obviously, they’d paid attention when he’d talked about tracking people and initial searches proved fruitless. Once a case came up, he threw himself in to solving that in a bid to think about something else. When Tim had left the copy of (y/N)’s new tenancy agreement on his desk, he saw it as a sign that maybe it was time to approach them.

**************************************

You’d got home just after 6pm and started to prepare something to eat. You always made far too much but you figured it would do you later in the week. Just as you were about to plate up your door intercom sounded. You knew it was Jethro before you even got to the speaker. You let him up and immediately started to plate him up some food too. If nothing it would break the ice on your first meeting since you ended it.

He was quiet, but then he always was a man of few words. He accepted the plate of food graciously and sat opposite you and tucked in. You even found him a beer to go with his meal. Once you were done eating you started to clear the plates away. The silence hung heavy in the air and you wondered who would be the first to break it. It wasn’t until you sat in the lounge that Gibbs broke it.

‘I know I’ve been a bastard to you these last few weeks. Will you let me make it up to you?’ he said, those steel-blue eyes pleading for the forgiveness his lips never could.

You sighed. You’d thought long and hard about this. Truth was you loved him deeply and while you felt he loved you, you knew he didn’t always show it. But there was no getting away from the last few month. It had fundamentally changed how you saw him. You knew that side of Gibbs existed, but you had hoped you wouldn’t witness it. Now you had, it was going to be hard to build up that trust again. You’d be hurt by the way he had shunned you.

‘That might be possible in the future but I think we need to take a step back for a while.’ You replied, watching him for a hint of a reaction. Even with his best poker face you could tell that wasn’t the answer he was wanting. You let the silence continue. He took a step closer to you, almost as if to rail against what you had just said.

‘I love you, (y/n). I don’t know how else to say it you,’ he pleaded.

‘Show me then,’ you challenged him.

He studied you, trying to read your mind. ‘How?’ he asked. His arms open and asking the same question.

You thought for a second. ‘I want you to go and talk to someone, someone who can help you work through all the stuff that’s happened to you. I know you don’t like shrinks Jethro but something has got to change.’ You pleaded, your eyes set on him.

You knew you’d asked him the earth. He’d rather go into a gunfight outnumbered 10 to 1 than talk to someone about what he was feeling.

‘It’s up to you. I understand either way,’ you said softly, your hand gently rubbing his arm

He nodded, stepped forward, kissed you gently on the cheek, and made his exit.

******************************

You sat patiently in the waiting room, pretending to read your magazine. You had checked your watch constantly over the last hour. Just when you were about to end out a search party, you spotted him walking towards you. He gave you half a smile. This was a milestone; he’d just completed his first therapy session and you were so unbelievably proud of him. You’d offered to be with him every step along the way. As he stood in front of you, there was clearly a lot going on in that stubborn head. Without saying a word, you took his hand and you walked out of the clinic together.

[aion-rsa]

The Falcon and the Winter Soldier Episode 1: Marvel and MCU Easter Eggs

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This article contains Marvel’s The Falcon and the Winter Soldier episode 1 spoilers, possibly spoilers for future episodes, and the wider MCU. We have a spoiler free review here.

Marvel’s The Falcon and the Winter Soldier episode 1 has finally arrived on Disney+. Now, those of you hoping for mystery box storytelling and surreal weirdness the likes of which we got from WandaVision may be a little disappointed. But those of you looking for some gritty street-and-spy-level action with a deeper look at life in the post-Snap/Blip MCU, well, you’re in luck.

Oh? But you’re here for Marvel Comics and MCU Easter eggs, you say? Well, you’re still in luck, friend! The Falcon and the Winter Soldier is full of subtle nods to Marvel and Captain America history, and continues to connect the dots in the ever-expanding MCU.

Here’s everything we found…and if you spot something we missed, let us know in the comments!

Sam Wilson

The stuff with Sam ironing his own shirt, or trying to help his sister get a small business loan is some real “the mundanity of superhero life” stuff that we rarely get a glimpse of in the movies, but that was such a hallmark of what separated Marvel Comics from their competitors in their early days.

In the MCU, Sam is from Louisiana. But in the comics, he was born and raised in Harlem, New York City.

Sam’s sister, Sarah Wilson, also known as Sarah Casper, was introduced back in Captain America #134 back in 1971, and created by Stan Lee and Gene Colan. She’s made only a few appearances over the decades and mainly exists for the novelty of having the patriotic superhero be known as “Uncle Sam.”

The boat that Sam’s sister maintains is named Paul and Darlene, named for their parents, and those were indeed the names of his parents in the pages of Marvel Comics.

Sam’s drop out of the back of the airplane at the start of the Captain Vassant rescue mission mirrors Steve’s in Captain America: The Winter Soldier.

The MCU’s version of Bubo is also back in action! Redwing is still very helpful during Sam’s “government contracts” it appears, as long as no one else messes with the drone’s wires. Also, Sam’s personal devotion to the Redwing drone is a nice nod to the fact that Redwing is a real falcon in the comics, and Sam’s pet/buddy.

Sam gets to have a sombre conversation with James “War Machine” Rhodes (Don Cheadle) in what is perhaps just the first of many unannounced The Falcon and the Winter Soldier appearances by other members of the MCU. We already know there will be a larger role for Sharon “Agent 13” Carter in later episodes. Who else might show up?

Bucky Barnes

Fittingly for his Marvel spinoff series, Bucky is introduced in the same way he was back in Captain America: The First Avenger – catching the tail end of an alleyway fight.

Bucky Barnes has now been pardoned for all the terrible crimes he committed, it’s quickly revealed. Doesn’t look like he’s pardoned himself, mind. Not by a long shot.

Bucky mentions having a sister. While it hasn’t been brought up much, he did have one in the comics. Rebecca Barnes was introduced in The Marvel Holiday Special #1 in a story written by Len Kaminski (hence the notebook Easter egg, which we’ll get to in a minute) and tremendously underrated ’90s comics artist Ron Lim. After the deaths of their parents, Bucky and Rebecca were separated. Her namesake was reintroduced during Heroes Reborn, where Rikki Barnes was Cap’s sidekick in Counter-Earth.

In Derek Landy’s new Falcon & Winter Soldier comics, Bucky has adopted a very chill white cat called Alpine. No sign of Alpine in episode one, but we refuse to give up hope.

Lieutenant Torres

The eager Lt. Torres (played by On My Block star Danny Ramirez) who clearly idolizes Sam appears to be none other than Joaquin Torres, who eventually took on the mantle of the Falcon in the comics. So if Sam is destined to become Captain America on this show, will Torres become his sidekick? We hope so!

Batroc

Just like at the start of Captain America: The Winter Soldier, we get a confrontation with Georges Batroc (ze leaper!), once again played by Georges St. Pierre. Batroc is such a cool but minor Cap villain, and we never need to spend a lot of time with him, but we do hope he keeps showing up from time to time for cool fight scenes, just like he does in the comics. It’s nice to see that while they’ll never give him his ridiculous comics costume, he’s wearing his comics-appropriate colors here.

The Flag-Smashers

The masked baddies of this episode are known as the Flag-Smashers, an organization who want to do away with all national borders. There’s lots of ways this show deals with the weirdness of the MCU after the Snap, but the increasing radicalization of underground supervillain groups appears to be one neat side effect.

They take their name from the comic book supervillain Flag-Smasher (singular). Flag-Smasher was created by Cap writer supreme Mark Gruenwald and artist Paul Neary back in 1985. The original Flag-Smasher was Karl Morgenthau (remember that name, we’ll come back to it in a second), and he was a non-powered costumed terrorist who led an organization known as ULTIMATUM, “The Underground Liberated Totally Integrated Mobile Army To Unite Mankind” (folks, ‘80s Captain America comics absolutely freakin’ RULE).

The woman handing out the Flag Smasher masks was tough to make out, but that appears to be was Erin Kellyman (Enfys Nest from Solo: A Star Wars Story) playing “Karli Morgenthau.” In other words, she’s probably the leader of the organization, not the big, scary dude with super soldier strength. But speaking of him…

The big scary guy is credited as “Dovich” and he’s played by Desmond Chiam. How did he get so strong? Well, the words “Power Broker Watching” appear in the credits, and the Power Broker was key to John Walker getting his super soldier strength, as well as several other minor Marvel characters. Remember what we said about how awesome ’80s Captain America comics are? You’re about to find out!

Sam’s crack about “bad guys” with “bad names” in regards to the Flag-Smashers also applies to real world nitwits who go around calling themselves names like “Proud Boys.”

Bucky’s Notebook

There are some standout names in Bucky’s notebook, notably L. Kaminski (probably ‘80s Marvel writer and editor Len Kaminski) and H. Zemo (as in Captain America: Civil War and this very show’s baddie Helmut Zemo). 

We wrote more about those names here.

Captain America

In the Smithsonian exhibit where Sam and Rhodey chat, there are lots of artifacts from Steve’s life, mostly taken from the era of Captain America: The First Avenger like the Howling Commando uniforms, but there’s something else cool there: the actual cover of Captain America Comics #1 by Joe Simon and Jack Kirby, the first appearance of the character. Remember, as part of the propaganda effort during the war to make Captain America a symbol of the wartime effort in the MCU, these comics were a thing. This means that Joe Simon and Jack Kirby also existed in the MCU, but their stories were meant to be chronicles about a real person.

Where’s Steve Rogers?

It seems that only a few people might know what really happened to Steve Rogers. Has Old Cap now passed on, or is he alive somewhere ready to make an appearance in the show at a later date? Many fans are still hoping for a Chris Evans cameo, and we’ve seen trailers for the series where Sam and Bucky apparently practice throwing Cap’s shield around out in the woods. Perhaps there’s a secluded cabin nearby…

The conspiracy theory about Captain America secretly watching us from the moon is likely a reference to Nick Fury in the comics. The events of Original Sin showed that Fury had been secretly waging wars on potential alien invaders for years. Uatu the Watcher put a series of events in motion so that he would die, but Fury’s immoral actions would be exposed. In the end, Fury was forced to become the new Watcher — the Unseen — and was imprisoned on the moon, looking over Earth as his new job. Coincidentally, Bucky took up his alien-fighting job in the aftermath.

It also feels a little like The Last Avengers Story, a dystopian Avengers comic from the mid-90s. It’s explained that at some point, Steve Rogers was President and was assassinated. In the final scene, it’s revealed that he’s been secretly recovering and has been watching over the world in a bunker.

Who is the New Captain America?

The new Captain America that we meet so briefly here is Wyatt Russell as John Walker. Who is John Walker, you ask? Well, John Walker was ALSO the new Captain America in the comics! But before that he was the reactionary supervillain known as the Super-Patriot. He took over the mantle of Captain America after the government decided they wanted Steve Rogers to be more of an employee and less a free agent symbol of liberty. After his time as Cap was up, John became the U.S.Agent. That’s all you’re gonna get out of us for now, for fear of spoilers.

You can read more about John Walker here.

Unanswered Questions

No, we don’t know who the L.A.F. are supposed to be, either.

The “government official” who introduces John Walker is played by Alphie Hyorth, and is simply credited as “government official” in the credits. That seems pretty suspicious to us, and we wouldn’t be surprised if he ends up being revealed with a recognizable Marvel Universe name like Henry Peter Gyrich or something down the line.

Names like Captain Vassant, Congressman Lockhart, Senator Atwood, or Bucky’s therapist Dr. Raynor appear to check out Marvel-wise.

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[traumatized-motherfuckers]

Friendship Dissolutions; A Lesson in Asshole Trauma Reactions

So this is normally my school day, but I’m feeling the need to dig into something else this morning. The past events of this weekend, annnnd the past nearly two years. Because, if you  hadn’t heard, relationships are hard and I like to embarrass myself by telling you about all my fuck ups.

You know, romantic relationships are a disaster for yours truly, but I always thought I was pretty good at the friendship thing. Since high school I’ve almost always had robust friendly relationships - both in depth and breadth. With the exception of a few difficult points in my life since 16, my phone has never been quiet, my weekends have only been isolating when I’ve been isolating myself, and I’ve always felt like I had humans on my side who were closer to kin than my actual family.

The thing is, there have been periods when this hasn’t been the case. I want to say that it’s generally when I’m in my worst mental health downfalls, but I don’t think that’s universally true. There have been variable reasons for separating myself from other people, or vice versa. Sometimes getting too busy, sometimes naturally growing apart, sometimes getting too obsessed with a romantic partner.

But, taking a more analytical view, underlying my lost friendship events, trauma has often been one of the influences that corrupted my friendships and left me lonely, even if it doesn’t seem like it at face value. The thing is, the trail of breadcrumbs might go back 20 years or so. I might not have been in a full-blown trauma state at the time, but those early life non-learnings about relationships have left their mark. So, yes, I do believe that CPTSD is the prerequisite for interpersonal disruptions and we’re not alone in that.

Anyways, in this Fucker’s life, for the past almost 2 years I’ve been in one of those friendship lulls. I’ve had casual friends, roommates, work-associates, distant relationships, some of those hey-how’s-it-going-every-two-months relations. But I haven’t had those deep, rich, all-encompassing friendships that used to define my existence. The ones that used to make me feel safe enough to have an existence, at all.

It’s all because I lost my core group of friends, I didn’t understand and couldn’t fix the problem, and I had no idea how to move forward.

And this last time when I lost everyone I loved, it was definitely due to trauma. Acute, historical, and recovering trauma, to be specific. It was a horrible period of my life, I was a human wrecking ball, and I had no emotional control… because, partially thanks to said friends, I never had to develop those skills.

Basically, I’ve been on my own since a whole series of mental health related isolation events and relationships dissolutions that have persisted since - I want to say 2019 - but to be more holistic, the ship started sailing earlier than that. Like, when I was born.

This has all come to mind more than usual because, this weekend? I had a strange rush of humans back into my life. For the first time in a long time, I saw my best, closest, most important old friends, who were closer to siblings…. In our natural habitat, with our normal friendship routines, with hundreds of memories from the past decade flying around the room.

And today… or, realistically, since I tried to go to sleep after seeing them each day this weekend… I have the relationship reckoning to deal with. The emotional and cognitive processing of everything that’s happened. The lost years. The sense of abandonment. The feeling of being cast out of a family. The inkling that everyone was talking about me. The realization that I was acting a fool, and maybe they should be talking about me. The sense that all parties were partially responsible, but I was the one to blame. The voice in my head that has called me a crazy, miserable, unlovable mess the entire time I debated this at 6am and 6pm and 3am for the past several years.

And now, in the aftermath, I have to work through the dynamic cocktail of feelings, the sense of waiting for the other shoe, and the big decision - are these relationships that I feel secure pursuing again?

And I don’t think I’m alone in this one.

So, today I thought it would be good to talk about this. The history of losing my favorite people on the planet, how I perceived it at the time, how I see my own trauma-actions fucking shit up in hindsight, how I’ve forgiven myself for being such a wild one, and… well… my hesitancy to have close friendships with humans who hurt me in the past. The ways I realized that being separate was beneficial to my mental health and life progress. The self-sabotaging enablement patterns that I now recognize, ran deep, in our old group of friends. The fear that being around them again will let my trauma brain run away with me.

Woo - it’s a whole personal relationship reckoning over here. Let’s just do this, so I can get to my school work at some point soon.

History

So let me set up this situation. You need the background details, of which, there are many dramatic twists and turns.

Be me, Spring of 2019. My romantic relationship with my ex in Atlanta - the musical narcissist that I followed to the city - is going terribly. Since we moved things have been rocky, but now our relationship has been pumped full of disappointment, unfair expectations, emotional codependency, resentment, horrific fighting, and abuse of all colors. Every day is a battle. We’re rarely ever “happy” together. We’re closer to enemies than friends. And we live under the same roof - the one his parents bought for him, outright in cash - to make matters even more fun.

Other than him, I’m alone in this city. I work at the brewery, where no one really likes me. I have one friend from work, but little time to interact thanks to the demanding schedule of my ex with his gigs and out-of-state child visitation.

Financially, my savings have been depleted by floating my significant other’s horrible decisions for the past 2 years. We can never get ahead. He never pays me back for anything. I’m basically in his pocket, as far as needing resources to survive.

As you can imagine, and as I’ve described previously, my mental health is in THE SHITTER. Maybe worse than it’s ever been, although this is hard to judge against some of my earlier years in my 20’s. I’m definitely ramped up in an aggressive and defensive trauma state more than ever before, thanks to living with my aggressor every day. I feel like I’m surviving against the will of my partner, who seems to legitimately be doing his best to drive me into an early grave every single time the sun rises. He’s moved into the territory of intentionally triggering me for hours on end, upsetting me to the point of mental breakdowns, and then gaslighting me for “acting so crazy.” Things have become dangerous, I have no one to turn to, and no cash to get myself into a better situation… not that I know what a better situation even looks like.

But one day, I left. Packed my two bags, went to work, wound up at that single sort-of-friend’s house, never went back home.

And that’s when the real nightmare started. I mean, my ex was a terror over time as we lived together, but a narcissist scorned is a narcissist determined to ruin your fucking life. He harassed me daily via text, phone call, FB messenger, email, stalkings… whatever you can think of. When I blocked him on everything, he started trying to leverage our therapists against me until they refused to interact anymore. He wouldn’t let me into his house to get my stuff. He tried to have me arrested for attempting to do so, after he made arrangements with me to move that weekend. He suddenly refused to even acknowledge that he owed me a dime, and found a way to tally up venmo transactions to show that I actually owed him. He took my only support - our dog, who was really my dog - away and wouldn’t let me see him. Later, he reported my car stolen, so I had to purchase a new one without warning.

The list goes on and on. Just, assume every pathetic, cruel, desperate attempt at getting under someone’s skin and reminding them that they had the audacity to leave you. That’s what was going on in my world.

Meanwhile, with those financial and social pressures I mentioned earlier. No close friends in the area, no spare cash, an unstable job where I was on the chopping block for the reason of “the CEO didn’t like my personality,” nowhere to live, no idea where to go next or how to start a whole new life.

Annnnnd this is right about when my closely knit friend group back in Illinois sort of, well, dipped.

My bestest, best, most treasured friend in my lifetime had always been there for me. But now, she wasn’t. We had exchanged a handful of phone calls over the past month in the aftermath of this relationship ending, but she had been pretty detached from it. I wasn’t offended, because she had certainly heard enough of the drama in real time… of course she was tired of hearing about it...  but I was feeling especially alone and incapable of handling everything on my own, so the distance was difficult, nevertheless. Then, one day she told me that I was being too much for her. I had too high of expectations. It had been bothering her for a while. She needed me to understand and give her some space.

And this was the completely avoidable beginning of the end of my friendships. Let’s talk about why.

How I perceived it

So, I’m pretty sure you can guess how I took this challenging message from my best friend. Uh, poorly. I was so shocked that in my darkest hour, my comrade would feel like my problems were out of her paygrade. It felt like a stab to the heart and straight down through the gut. Here I was, completely alone and isolated, reaching back to my most trusted companions for a lifeline to keep my head above water, and… nothing. She didn’t want to reel me back into the boat.

I responded with some shitty messages about how I really wasn’t asking that much from her and I didn’t appreciate being blindsided by her sudden decision to get rid of me. I had only taken up a few phone calls to talk things through based on her schedule. I had visited her one weekend as I went to a job interview nearby. I had asked her to come visit me soon, so I could feel less alone for a few days. I didn’t think it was fair that she was responding this way. I couldn’t believe she would turn her back on me at this particular moment.

And so, the rift developed. We stopped speaking. I started sobbing. I was absolutely beside myself, as if I hadn’t already been. This wasn’t what I wanted, at all, but I also felt like I had no control in it.

.......

Like it? Well I’m too lazy to post the whole thing here. Check t-mfrs.com for the full blog AND the podcast recorded version. Yawelcome. 

www.t-mfrs.com 

(Traumatized Motherfuckers)

[suffering-and-happy-about-it]

Mount Everest Ain't Got Shit On Us, Part 20. (Fezco x fem!reader) - The Aftermath, Part 3. (Ending)

Description: You were always told that your life will be as you wish it to be if you’ll study enough. That it will pay off if you work hard. And some people were given you like a scary example of what will happen when you don’t obey. But sometimes it feels good to disobey.

A/N: Inspired by Cinderella by the man of the greatest, Mac Miller for two reasons (and Talk by Khalid slightly in the end).

He truly is a great rapper in my opinion (and not because his life ended up so soon, sadly). I like the beats of his songs, the energy, they have thoughts in them (like Cinderella or Self Care).

Cinderella is a break-up song, but also, Mac says that he’s waiting for that girl no matter what.

Also, it should end up way different, but I was too sad, so I made it a bit sweeter. Still sad tho.

Warnings: Angst, ending of the series. You're gonna hate me, folks. Also a lot of Khalid mentions. And ma being right once again.

Word count: 4.1 K

Read the rest here, babe: PART 1  PART 2  PART 3  PART 4  PART 5  PART 6  PART 7  PART 8  PART 9  PART 10  PART 11  PART 12  PART 13  PART 14  PART 15  PART 16  PART 17  PART 18  PART 19

Masterlist and declaration: H E R E

Tagging: @charmed-asylum, @jeyramarie, @pantherxrogers, @analia-analia-analia​

There's no such freedom as letting the bike ride down from the hill on its own, nothing is better than riding down with your ass up just as your hair flies around you and you close your eyes, smiling to the sun as songs rush through your earbuds.

For the first time in forever, you could feel happy and calm, a smile appearing on your lips basically on its own. The last few months were a fucking ride, you couldn't put it in other words. Your heart broke many times as you broke down in tears, sliding down leaning into the wall. There was a lot of screaming at your home, a lot of curse words falling down; from you and Fran, not from your parents.

She needs to go on rehab, your ma said when she saw you for the first time in hospital. There was no such terrible news for Christian parents than knowing that their child is a drug addict. Or a lesbian. They could somehow handle Fran like that problem kid, at least for the first time she got into a rehab, but when you ended up on a hospital bed for the first time as well, they were so disappointed.

Also at that moment, Fran was on the same hospital floor with recovering from cuttings under her neck, her ankles, and her palms. She was out. Sleeping. Fighting for her life. In the end, you couldn't blame your parents for their reactions. One of their kids ended up in the hospital, drugged and almost dead, and when the kid had finally woken up, the other one tried to kill themselves. It was just too much to take in.

Of course, you were forbidden to see Fezco when they learned what actually happened, or what occurred according to the witnesses. If they knew that the man with a red beard just appeared in the same room as you did, they would kill you both. Regardless of what happened, they made Fezco the bad guy, even if the police found him completely innocent. For further restricting the contact between you two, they even took your phone away.

Your man almost couldn't handle that shit - and he didn't even hear the worst part at that time. He sat by your side almost every evening since you were in a coma, holding your hand, sometimes even sleeping by your side - and when his little angel had finally woken up, he was restricted to see her.

Thank God, the teen-agers who were saving his ass have done a really good job - part of that was that Nate had got a good record with manipulating crimes and he was from a well-respected family. And the other part was done thanks to Jules, who took all his drug-dealing junk into her room until the situation got quiet. They were working to save him a good time and they knew that they would be able to manipulate a murder - which didn't mean that they would like to kill for business from that moment on (even if Rue persuaded that idea many times).

But in the end, Fezco wasn't arrested or rotting in jail, which made you happy. But even if he was legally cleansed, that didn't make a difference for your parents at all. He was a criminal - and he could damage your life and well-being.

Of course that as soon as they released you our of the hospital, and they also told that there's no need for rehab since you're not a junkie, you ran off in the night. It was a cold January night, it was snowing and the roads and pavements were covered in a thin layer of ice.

As soon as your lips touched his, your body started to undress before you even realized any of it. There was no need for words. You only needed him and his dick. You slowly realized that you're naked when his warm skin pressed on yours and started to heat it. The truth was that you only barely realized what you were doing as you felt all those things after a few months. You wished for his taste never leaving your lips, for his skin to warm you until the day was over and to smell him when you close your eyes.

Fezco wanted to make you feel love and to make you feel like a princess, yet it didn't end up like that at all. It was passionate, it was almost violent at whiles. You started on the bed and when he was finally naked, you somehow ended up on all fours, ass up for him, yelling to the floor as you felt the skin on your knees burning. 

He always told you that you look like a beautiful, tender angel. That night was somehow different - you wanted and needed to be broken by him. Fez basically destroyed you that night - just as you mesmerized him by slow, tender lovemaking - you rode him like he loved to and to feel you after such a long time was like a dream coming true. Unreal.

When it was all done, you laid down in his bed, holding him just as if he belonged to you - your hand around his hips, your leg entwined between his thighs with your forehead on his chest. You felt safe. But you know that it wasn't for too long.

"I heard rumors." - Fez started slowly, drawing circles on your naked shoulder, kissing the top of your head.

"Oh yeah?" - You wondered with a low chuckle, kissing the small sweet spot between his flat breasts. - "What did you hear? Do you want to share with the class?" - You mumbled as you continued up to below the line of his beard, your hand slowly traveling down, thinking of round three.

"About you movin' out of da town." - Fezco whispered, watching you with his blue eyes. He was... Hurt. And about to cry. Which mad you inclined to crying as well. It was like an instant connection.

"I am afraid... That those aren't only rumors, Fez." - You sighed. The man under your body just shifted for a second before he closed his eyes as he smoothed his face with his fingers. - "I need to. My parents want me to. And they wouldn't leave me alone."

"When ya leavin'?" - Fezco gently pushed you on his body, leaning his head down to kiss you.

"On Monday." - You mumbled to his lips and felt, how he tensed. And practically pushed his lips off yours. - "I have already packed everything."

"And when you planned on tellin' me? Huh? A short call at a gas station?" - He got up from the bed, taking some underwear on, leaving you naked between the blankets. Everything inside you strangely hurt, it felt like if you let your man down, because he wasn't even able to look in your direction. 

At that moment, he didn't think about loving you like anybody else on the whole planet, he just thought about you being gone from his day-to-day life in just two days from that night. That just wasn't fair - how could someone love somebody else so much only to let them go?

“Fezco, you know that it's not like that.” - You sat, covering your own body with a blanket. You felt as tears slowly crept into your eyes. - “You know how complicated my life is right now. You do.”

“Whatever, man.” - He leaned his palms into one of the cabinets in his room, looking into the mirror as you dressed up. You felt the need to leave immediately. Before knocking on his door, you were willing to give him both the nights that were remaining to you in the town. Now, you just wanted to get away from that place. 

And so you did. And didn't come back after that, not hearing a single word from Fez again. You took it as a break-up. He hadn't tried to contact you after that one last passionate night. It felt cold. So you acted cold as well, you didn't stealthy left your room or went to his and Ash’s gas station. And it hurt like hell; it hurt so much that you only laid in your bed and cried until you fell asleep, not leaving your room for food or toilette.

And this time, you hadn't got Fran by your side to tell you that you will do just fine - with Fez or without him. 

Rue and Jules came to visit you just before it was your time to leave, both of them were crying like hell. Rue held you for a ridiculous amount of time, so tightly that you giggled. Then you sat at your room, a rap song playing from Jules’ phone. 

“We’ll miss ya, idiot.” - Rue said and nuzzled her head into your upper thigh so you could massage her scalp.

“If you can behave and you will stay clean, you can come to visit me to Minnesota on spring break.” - You smoothed her cheek with a small smile. - “Granny has a place for all of us there. It will be fun because Minnesota is beautiful.” 

“Yeah, I heard somewhere that its wilderness is great. We can go hiking.” - Jules exclaimed happily, holding your other hand.

“Only if missy here on my lap will stay clean. Can you promise that?” - You asked the beauty on your lap and she nodded lazily with her eyes closed and a sad face, she was smelling you, so she remembered your favorite perfume or antiperspirant. 

“Anything new about Fez?” - You mumbled with a sigh. 

“He’s still refusing to speak with us. He tries to get me clean again and I think that we are remindin’ his ass of ya. You know that it still means that he loves ya?” - Rue played with your fingers childishly. Of course, he was in love with you - because you still couldn't get him out of your head or heart as well. 

The question was if you will be ever able to forgive him. Everything was screaming his name to you - like the small things on your bedside table, an empty frame where your photo used to be, weird hoodies that reminded you of his style, that tone of his voice whispering you dirty little jokes whispered to your ear, him making you laugh whenever he felt you're stressed that you could hear in any song you’ve listened to, his smile and blue eyes in the color of the sky. No. No, you knew you could hardly move on from that intense relationship. And even if you eventually do, there will be a part of you still in love with that man. 

No other boy will ever take your panties off, damped as hell, the way Fezco did. Nobody brews coffee the way he did and nobody else will watch you perform concerts only in your lacy bra and bathrobe.

“He will be fine. He always is. Let him take his time.” - You nodded, crying again, but smiling at Rue sadly. 

“And about ya?” - Rue asked seriously and you just looked away. After that, Jules changed the topic fast, because she knew that you're about to scream in frustration. 

One thing was crossing your mind again and again - why people who are the closest to be actual angels are the most corrupted ones? You took a good look at Rue, the girl with heart of gold - a drug addict, irresponsible woman with OCD, ADD and so many shits to add to the stock. Jules, such an incredible sweet - also a kind of slut for older men. Fezco, literally the best boy you have ever met and basically the love of your life - a dropout highschooler and a dealer who killed a person.

The people around you were the literal angels - and the most fucked up of all people youve ever met and you knew that you will never meet anyone like them in your life. 

So naturally, when it came to saying goodbye, there were so many tears that it couldn't be counted. Rue was telling you dumb jokes and promised to send you letters every once a while, Cal couldn't even speak in his terms because he was sobbing so much and Jules... She was just sadly smiling at you and even if she wasn't crying at all, you could feel that she is sad.

But you only laughed when your ma started the engine and Jules and Rue followed you on their bikes until the Hope you'll come to visit you again and you only could laugh because they were yelling stuff at you the whole way while you were leaning from the window and looking at them. 

When you left the town, you closed the window, seeing those two still watching your car disappear. You sighed and started to play with the few rings you had on both hands. 

“How you're doing?” - Your ma asked silently. You disappointed her really bad, but you were still her daughter and you knew that sooner or later, she will start trusting you again. But you also knew that you needed to take small steps at a time. Same with dad. You fucked up, that was for sure - but there was still a comparison to Fran, so your fucking-up bar wasn't as high, you thought to yourself.

“I'm doing just fine.” - You said quietly, not looking at her. - “Thanks for your concern.” 

“Y/N, stop acting like Fran. This is...-” - Your ma gripped the steering wheel a bit tighter. - “For the sake of my own health and well being, I know, I know. How I said, thanks for your concern.” 

“Look, I know that this whole attitude thing is about Fez. And I get it, totally.” - She started quietly. That was when you turned off the radio and turned your face to her a bit. 

“He isn't a bad person and you know that.” - You mumbled with the breaking of your heart being pressed into every letter of that sentence.

“And if I remember correctly, I and neither your father ever told that. Never. Not even once.” - She sighed and after a long time, she started speaking again. - “He is a wonderful man when we are speaking about his character only. All I needed to know is that he makes my daughter happy and that he is honest and serious with her. And I swear to God that I've never seen anyone looking at someone else like when he watched every move you ever made. I liked having him over for dinner or movie marathons. He was kind to me and nice under any circumstances. Fezco is a good, loyal and loving person.” - She told you. You were sitting there like a hot pile of shit, looking in front of you without any word coming to your tongue. 

“And I know you left your room on Friday and I am not dumb. But you two needed to talk to each other for the last time. I needed you to do it, because it doesn't matter if he is a nice guy or not when he shot a guy with a gun, regardless it was self-defense or not. A mother doesn't want to see her child with a man like that.” - She stopped the car on the right side of the road and she watched as your cheeks have filled with tears. But she didn't stop the engine.

“And I know that if you want, you can just be with him again when you are an adult. But I think that now it just isn't your time to be together - things happened to him, thing happened to you and... I know it hurts, baby. I know. But give it some time. Let both your lives settle down, grow up a bit, grow as a person and someday, maybe, if you want, you can save the man you're so blatantly in love with now.” - Your ma took your hand to her palm and kissed it slowly, letting you cry. 

She was right, just as always. You’ve done wrong - but just as you did, he did too. And she did even know that if you would want to continue the relationship in the future, you could and she couldn't stop. But this was her way of making you stop for a while, so you could get out of Fezcos drug world she didn't even know about. 

“We have broken up... The night I have sneaked out of my window.” - You confessed quietly and she just closed her eyes and exhaled out loud. Your ma was the wisest woman you have ever met. She did antagonize Fezco - but on the other hand, she was able to tell that he has a kind heart and that the relationship you had was an unusually strong one for the first one in your romantical life, at least openly. 

She even liked that boy. He helped with the dishes, laughed at her dumb jokes and brought her some nice pieces of dishes and flowers when he had an opportunity. Naturally, she was a little sad that you called your romance off. Or, more likely, he called it off.

“You will be fine, baby. You will do just great.” - She promised and kissed your forehead. She was mad at you most of the time - but the mother does nurse their children when something happens. Plus, you already showed the will to turn the things around. 

Even if it was without an internet connection and extremely far away from your own home, you loved your granny’s big house in Minnesota. It was a big and old one and you loved spending time there since you were small. It was kind of a bummer to start school all over again without anybody, but you managed. 

Your mom got you a new phone number and made sure to give it to Leslie and to Jules’ dad, so they could call you from time to time when you weren’t doing anything at the moment. The town was pretty small and you knew most of the people - but nobody knew the true reason why you moved there. They were glad for you nonetheless.

You found new friends sooner or later and one day, while you’ve been sitting at a coffee, waiting for your studying partner, you’ve hidden all the photos and stories you had with Fezco on Instagram. It felt strange, yet the memories in photos of you and Rue, Leslie, Gia, Jules, and other girls made you genuinely laugh. 

In this town, you had a good reputation - you were a pretty good student, the nice person helping on local events for children. To say at least, you’ve been good. 

And just as Rue promised, she wrote you letter every two weeks. She bragged herself about being clean so she could visit you with Jules - she also wrote the number big and colorful, so you couldn't miss it at all. 

Over time, small notes were delivered in the letter for you - for example, a polaroid of your and Fezco’s favorite restaurant and when you turned it, there was Do ya remember? written in big letters. 

For the first few times, you thought of Rue doing weird Rue shit - but over the time, the photos got more and more intimate - the place where you sat and made love under the stars, the pool where it all has started, a small spot on the counter in his shop which you marked as yours with a heart drawn with a glitter pen. Later, you started a small collection and you were smiling every time youve opened up the book to save another polaroid there. It was like he was speaking to you with small sentences like I remember everything or This place ain't da same without ya singin’ Talk (*by Kalid, author’s notes) and the sweetest was when you received a photo of his bed with This space empty without ya, just like ma heart.

And that’s what got you to that one April afternoon where you drove the hill on your bike, listening to some good old Khalid, as you did with Rue. Thanks to her, you knew a few of his songs by your heart. Rue loved him.

Just as you entered the house, you kissed your grandma on her cheeks and went to your room to clean up your things. The phone was laying on your bed and still playing songs when it started to vibrate and play the ring bell tone. 

You were surprised - it was neither Rue or Jules, Fran was calling from rehab every Wednesday, ma called on Friday. When you read the number, your brain recognized it as if someone snapped next to your ear. You got anxious and you almost threw up - you never tried calling him, you weren't seeking photos of him or exactly threw up yourself in self-pity and melancholy, only the first week you’ve been in Minnesota was like that. 

Did you want to hear Fezco actually? Wouldn’t it just hurt you more? You knew how cold he was when you told him that you’re leaving... Three months ago. But since then, he was slowly making you fond of those memories you had with him. He was apologizing in his very own way. 

But the true question was if you were ready to hear him again. You were nervous, sweaty, shaking like hell. The first call fell into a black screen and you exhaled slowly. No, you weren’t. You definitely weren’t.

Just as you threw the phone back on your bed so you could continue with the stuff you had to have done, it started to ring again. You closed your eyes, leaning into the wall. So Fezco was serious with the call? It made you only more anxious and angry. He was acting like such a douche the last time you’ve seen him and even if he took you cute polaroids, he didn't even apologize. 

That evening was mostly Fran’s fault, yes, but he technically shot Mouse down. And he did so for a good reason - Mouse was scared that you will disclose their location to the police. You could be the corpse. But exactly was also a reason why you had to leave. And he didn't exactly have the decency to neither explain himself or say sorry.

You were basically sure that you are done with him - backing up all those photos you had so you still had them, but not in your gallery, archiving every post on socials you had with him. You guessed that you weren't simply a thing anymore. 

And you even tried to date a guy in Minnesota. But just the way he held your hand didn't feel right. Fezco always held it like if you were a princess, gently playing with all the ring it had, kissing your knuckles or fingertips while he was bored or listening to what you were saying. And the way Minnesota boy was kissing? N O  W A Y. It wasn't right at all. His clothes weren't as cozy as Fezco’s, he didn't smell as good as your former boyfriend did. He didn't touch you so you would feel like a goddess - that was a no-no situation for you.

And you realized that Fez might have set the standard bar for other boys who tried to win you for themselves too high. He truly was spoiling you with every look and every touch.

But that didn't mean you would just run to him when he calls you like a dog. He was doing some fucked-up things and you acknowledged that especially since you weren't mesmerized by him every day. 

So you told yourself that if he calls you for the third time in a row, you will pick the phone up no matter what. No matter how angry or nervous you would be. The second ringtone ended and you watched the screen with anticipation. The phone was silent for a minute, then for two, three... You sighed and shook your head. 

“Y/N! Dear! Can you come and help me out here with something?” - Your granny screamed at you from the first floor. You slowly went to the door, still glued to the screen of your phone as you held the door in your hand. You almost closed it, but it rang again - and to your surprise, a big smile grew on your lips as you went to pick it up. 

“Gimme five minutes, grandma!” - You yelled back at her and sat down on your bed. 

And you picked up.

FIN

[kaiunkaiku]

Catch me writing self-indulgent 8059 fanfiction in 2020.

Fandom: Katekyo Hitman Reborn

Summary: “He has water in his eyes so his vision is somewhat impaired, but he thinks Hayato is shivering.”

Warnings: Mentions of violence, blood, referenced past suicide attempt, a bunch of mental health issues, unhealthy coping mechanisms, some miscommunication, a good helping of angst

Ao3

Enjoy!

Takeshi knew Tsuna would be waiting for him, and he's not surprised to see Squalo leaning on a tree ten or so meters behind. Tsuna is his best friend and Takeshi is his Rain Guardian, after all, and Tsuna tries to be there for all of his battles. And Squalo, well, Squalo is his teacher, and they are currently in Italy, so Takeshi chalks it up to him wanting to observe his progress.

One thing he was not expecting is Hayato. 

It’s raining outside – pouring, really –  and it’s uncharacteristically cold for the spring months in southern Italy. Takeshi himself is dripping water, along with sweat and blood, Tsuna and Hayato are both standing under umbrellas. Squalo isn’t, but Takeshi is fairly sure Squalo feels more at home when he’s soaking wet anyway. 

Exhaustion is settling in, now that Takeshi is done fighting. He doesn't like spilling blood, but sometimes he’s forced to – after all, the world is full of people who crave the title of the Sword Emperor, and Takeshi is fairly high on the list of people to defeat in order to pave the way to the final fight against Squalo. His clothes are stained, but most of the blood isn’t his. There’s a gash on the side of his chin that’s bleeding far more profusely that it has any right to, and he’s littered with smaller scratches and bruises all over, but most of the blood on him used to be inside the poor bastard who’s now bleeding in a clearing in the forest he just emerged from. 

He has water in his eyes so his vision is somewhat impaired, but he thinks Hayato is shivering. It’s hard to tell in the rain and with how Hayato is hugging himself under the umbrella that’s doing a semi-adequate job at best. Takeshi wants to run to him, wrap his arms around him, drag him to the car that he knows is waiting, but Hayato wouldn’t stand for that. He has to remind himself that using his sword falls nearly always strictly under Vongola business, and this situation is no different – his status as a swordsman is neatly tied to his status as Tsuna’s Rain Guardian, and although Tsuna is far from strict and formal as the Boss, proper conduct dictates he’s the one Takeshi is reporting to first. 

Tsuna sighs in relief when Takeshi relays to him the information that he left his opponent alive, even if in dire need of medical attention. He goes through the list of his own injuries quick – the gash on his chin seems to be the worst, and he will probably be sore as hell tomorrow – and casts another glance at Hayato. Squalo has already managed to slip out, apparently satisfied, but Hayato isn’t here for the battle; Hayato is here for the aftermath.

It’s not the first time, but Takeshi still finds himself wishing Hayato would stay home. He’s still so profoundly terrified of losing those closest to him that Takeshi just doesn’t want him seeing him hurt, no matter how little. Especially now that Hayato really should be in bedrest, him being here is helping no one. They’ve had multiple conversations about this, some of them actually productive and others ending in screaming and tears, not to mention one particularly terrible instance last year when Takeshi had to drag Hayato to the infirmary because he could not calm down.

(That happened two days after Bianchi had almost died. She was still in intensive care. Takeshi takes full responsibility for the outcome of that attempted conversation.)

According to Hayato, being present helps him deal with Takeshi getting hurt. Takeshi still doesn’t think it’s healthy, but he lets it slide time and time again. If he’s being honest, he would rather see Hayato immediately after having to get violent for no purpose at all besides a title that doesn’t even belong to him than have to wait until he gets home, because seeing Hayato makes him feel better. But it can’t be good for Hayato. 

Sometimes he thinks they should just sit down with a marriage counselor to talk about this ridiculous cycle where they both feel guilty about the exact same thing when there’s nothing to feel guilty about, even if they’re not officially married. 

(Yet.)

In the meantime, though, he will continue to feel guilty about making Hayato sad and anxious, and Hayato will continue to feel guilty about making him feel guilty, and… yeah. 

Right now Takeshi is also feeling guilty about the fact that Hayato, who is barely recovering after collapsing just four days ago and could barely stand up yesterday, is standing in the rain waiting for him. He’s sure Tsuna tried to talk him out of it, and he’s equally as sure Hayato said “please” exactly once in a really exhausted tone, and Tsuna didn’t have the heart to argue with him about this. 

Tsuna doesn’t keep him long, just enough to get the general idea of what happened and what needs to happen. Takeshi is grateful for it; Hayato stands just few paces behind Tsuna, and he’s itching to sink his face into silver hair and then get home. 

Takeshi faintly registers Tsuna pull out a phone, but he doesn’t pay much attention to that. The moment their brief conversation is over, Hayato takes a determined step forward just as Takeshi does the same, and they come face to face under Hayato’s umbrella. Takeshi tries to wipe at least some water off his face, but his hand is also wet and his jacket is soaked through. His hair is dripping more water on his face.

Whatever. At least he no longer has to blink droplets off his lashes from obscuring his vision. 

Hayato raises a careful hand to his face, avoiding the generously bleeding cut. His hand is freezing cold and a little shaky. Takeshi mirrors the gesture, thumb coming to rest just below the frame of Hayato’s glasses. He’s only mildly surprised he’s wearing them. 

“Are you okay?” Hayato’s voice sounds rough, though it’s barely audible. There’s a demanding undertone, or maybe desperate. His eyes reflect that, for the brief moment they make eye contact. Then his gaze wanders to all the blood and already-forming bruises, and the hand on Takeshi’s cheek tenses. 

“I am,” Takeshi answers, matching Hayato’s volume. He raises his free hand to cover Hayato’s trembling one, lacing their fingers softly; puts just enough force in to bend Hayato’s wrist so he can press a kiss to his palm. “Most of this isn’t mine, anyway,” he offers with a crooked attempt of a smile. 

Hayato doesn’t look relieved. If anything, his brows furrow and the corners of his mouth take a more intentional downturn. Takeshi takes a moment to observe his face, from the subtle tension in his jaw to the bruises under his eyes, and suddenly wishes for more light. It’s quite dark, however, with the late hour and pouring rain, so discerning whether Hayato’s complexion is still the same paper-white pallor it’s been the past few days is nigh impossible. 

It doesn’t matter. The fact is that Hayato is shivering, and Takeshi is starting to feel the chill settle into his bones, too, now that he’s not moving anymore. 

Moving his hand from Hayato’s cheek to the back of his neck, sliding his fingers under his hair, Takeshi gently pulls Hayato’s head to his chest. Hayato doesn’t protest; his own hand moves in accordance, and Takeshi lets go of it. Lets his arm fall. 

Hayato’s hair is soft. It’s damp, and hasn’t been styled, and if Takeshi closes his eyes and tries to forget about everything else, pressing his face to the top of Hayato’s head and inhaling almost feels like a slow morning after a shower. 

Try as he might, though, he can’t quite get into the scene in his head. There are too many things wrong that Takeshi can’t just ignore, the most pressing in his mind being Hayato’s freezing hands and somewhat labored breaths. His own bleeding chin is a semi-close second. 

“You shouldn’t be here,” he murmurs into Hayato’s hair, and immediately feels the fingers at his neck tighten. 

Hayato takes a shuddering breath. “Do not start,” he says, strained, with just a hint of venom in his tone. 

“I won’t,” Takeshi tells him sincerely. The topic is not something he wants to pursue further, just something he felt was necessary to say. “Are you okay?”

“No,” Hayato replies, and Takeshi feels ice flood his veins, because Hayato never admits it out loud – no, Hayato is the stubborn idiot who screams he’s fine through breathless sobs, the stubborn idiot who insists he’s fine while half-buried in the remnants of a collapsed building barely conscious, the stubborn idiot who dizzily mumbles he’s fine when his knees are actively buckling from under him. Takeshi pulls away as if zapped, the need to see Hayato’s face immediate and pressing, like a fire alarm going off in his head. 

“What do you mean no,” Takeshi almost shouts, barely controlling his volume. He can taste the panic in his voice as he grips Hayato’s shoulders, the motion causing the umbrella in Hayato’s hand to sway so that Takeshi gets a splash of cold water on his back. He hardly even feels it. 

Hayato looks more dismayed than anything else as he retreats his hand from Takeshi’s neck; maybe a little confused. 

“It’s cold, I’m exhausted and in pain, and you’re hurt.” Hayato’s words come slow, like he has difficulty getting them out. His eyes flick to the cut at Takeshi’s jaw before he makes proper eye contact. “So no, I’m not okay.” The line of his shoulders shifts as if bracing for something, and there’s a look akin to defiance in his eyes. Challenging, almost. 

Takeshi loosens his grip and forces himself to take a deep breath. Now it’s his turn to be confused, and it must show on his face – Hayato’s expression is the one he gets when he has to go the extra mile to thoroughly explain something when he was hoping he wouldn’t need to. It’s usually one of Takeshi’s favorite expressions on him, because it’s often followed by Hayato entering full teaching mode. 

That is not the case right now. 

“Oh shit,” Hayato then blurts, face falling, and drops his head. All traces of confidence evaporate. “I’ve been, uh, we talked about that whole honesty and openness thing,” he starts, sounding every bit like this is the absolute last thing he wants to talk about. He switches the umbrella from one hand to the other and makes a generic gesture with his now free hand, presumably related to that whole honesty and openness thing. Takeshi has a vague idea of where this is going. 

Hayato won’t look at him. Takeshi won’t make him. 

“So. I figured– I don’t know.” Hayato seems to be curling more and more up to himself with every word, and Takeshi suspects his hands on Hayato’s shoulders are why he hasn’t bolted yet. It’s painful to watch. 

“Hey,” Takeshi says, one hand moving to cup Hayato’s jaw. “You figured you could start with this?” A nod. “That’s a good thing.” 

“No, you freaked right out, it’s fine, I’m fine, you’re not, we should get to the car, Tenth must be waiting already, Sasagawa is driving, he can take a look at your injuries–”

“Hayato.” This is not the direction Takeshi wanted to go to, not here and not this particular conversation. But he started this, and now it’s up to him to guide both of them to the finish line without crashing or sinking on the way there. No matter how much he thinks it would be an absolutely fantastic idea to get to the car, he knows Hayato will not have this conversation with other people present, and by the time they would make back to headquarters Hayato would have closed off completely. No, this is happening here and now. 

Hayato still won’t look at him. Takeshi nudges at his jaw, tries to get him to turn his head, but Hayato only hunches his shoulders more. 

“No, listen to me, hey. I’m sorry,” Takeshi tries. “Yeah, I freaked out. I’ve heard you admit you’re not fine once in seven years.” He leans in to press a kiss to Hayato’s hairline. He doesn’t like to think about that time. He’s fairly sure Hayato doesn’t even remember it – he has massive holes in his memory from that entire year, and although they’ve tried to patch some of them, being seventeen was overall a terrible time to be Gokudera Hayato. Takeshi is mostly fine with him not remembering it. 

Takeshi, however, remembers it vividly. He doesn’t think the sound of Sasagawa’s voice at the other end of the line will ever fade from his memory, the words “I think he might have tried to kill himself” forever hammered into his eardrums. He never got around to asking why it was Sasagawa who called him – he knows for a fact that it was Hibari who found him – but it didn’t matter then and it hasn’t mattered since. 

“When,” Hayato asks flatly, like he knows the answer but wants another anyway. His free hand, previously gripping his own bicep, comes to grasp Takeshi’s wrist. His fingers feel like ice. Takeshi doesn’t flinch. 

“You know when,” he whispers. 

“The hospital?”

“The hospital.”

“Fuck.” Then, “Sorry.”

They stay quiet for a while, Takeshi running his thumb gently along Hayato’s jawline and Hayato breathing unsteadily. Takeshi doesn’t think either of them is going to be staying on their feet much longer.

“Talk to me,” he eventually says. “What brought this up? It’s been a while since we last talked about this.” He doesn’t want to question Hayato’s actions, but Takeshi also knows Hayato does few things without purpose, and self-reflection is not something he does willingly. 

“I, uh.” Hayato snaps his mouth shut. Opens it again, lips working to form words, but ends up closing it. “I had a talk. With Dino-san. About.. this stuff,” he finally mutters through his teeth. “He compared me to Hibari a lot.” 

That’ll do it, Takeshi thinks. 

“He said it makes him feel like Hibari doesn’t trust him when he doesn’t tell him this stuff even though he knows how he works, and I thought that maybe you feel like that too, because I literally lie to you about it and I know you can tell.” Hayato turns to look at him, finally, and Takeshi feels his breath catch. He looks so openly scared that for a second Takeshi almost forgets they’re having a conversation. 

“You know that I trust you, right?” he asks, voice trembling and turquoise eyes wide and terrified. “More than anyone.” 

Takeshi knows. He’s known since their trip to the future that Hayato would trust his life in his hands without batting an eye, would trust his sister’s life in his hands without a second thought, would trust him to protect Tsuna before even thinking it. His actions have proven time and time again that Takeshi has earned his unwavering trust regarding anything and everything he holds even remotely important. Takeshi is also keenly aware that Hayato doesn’t regard himself and least of all his feelings as anything even remotely important, but that’s a whole another can of worms neither of them is going to open now. 

Yes, Takeshi knows Hayato trusts him. 

But he’s never heard it said out loud before. 

“Yes,” he whispers, not trusting his voice. 

And then Hayato’s forehead hits his collarbone and Takeshi is just about to lose it all over again when he hears the soft sigh of “oh thank God” against his shirt. Hayato’s shoulders lose all their tension at once and Takeshi has a blink and a half to catch the umbrella before it falls from Hayato’s suddenly non-existent grip. 

He lets Hayato lean on him for a moment, stays quiet for that time and mostly still, too, except for the hand he’s softly petting Hayato’s hair with. By the time Takeshi realizes it, the tremor that was mostly contained in Hayato’s hands has spread to his entire body and is transferring over to Takeshi himself, and as much as he would like to continue this exact moment when Hayato is relaxed for once, they’re both going to be feeling this tomorrow. Tsuna is waiting for them. He needs to write a more thorough report than what he just gave verbally. His chin is still bleeding sluggishly. 

“Should we go?” he asks in Italian, purposefully butchering the pronunciation. As expected, it startles a laugh out of Hayato, who raises his head and tiredly drags one hand over his face. There’s a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. He’s mostly soaked, he looks exhausted, he’s shaking like a leaf, and Takeshi doesn’t think he’s ever loved Hayato more.

“Yeah. Let’s go home.”