#this has been marinating in my brain for weeks someone please take and enjoy my clone Hilbert thoughts cause i have so many of them

[dysfunctionalcreature]

so I've been thinking about a Wolf 359 AU where Hilbert and Eiffel managed to reconcile and get along/get close before Hilbert's death, so Eiffel is kinda broken after Hilbert dies and he has a breakdown about it while sending out some radio transmission presumably to the aliens, sooo the aliens send a Hilbert clone. Hilbert just like wakes up in his lab assuming that he probably just got a concussion from the explosion or something, course when he goes to check on Eiffel and the others he realizes what actually happened, they all have a mild freakout about getting a new Hilbert days after the original's death, but pretty quickly they decide it's not a big deal compared to everything else that's been happening, tho obviously Jacobi is pissed that Hilbert got to come back when Maxwell didn't, and Lovelace is annoyed that she now has one more thing in common with Hilbert, but Eiffel is happy to have Hilbert back(and now un-killable if Lovelace is anything to go off of) even if he feels kinda weird about directly being the reason for clone Hilbert being there

plus somehow the crew had managed to salvage Hilbert's dogtags from the wreckage of the exploded room so they give them to clone Hilbert, course he already has his own dogtags (cause the clones have identical outfits to the originals) so now the one difference in appearance is that clone Hilbert wears 2 sets of his dogtags, which is kinda ironically poetic

(and after this you can pick if you want things to go different go better since they have Hilbert, maybe Eiffel doesn't lose his memories, maybe Kepler survives. or maybe everything goes the same and there's nothing Hilbert could have done, except maybe try to bond with amnesiac Eiffel over knowing what it's like to be the fundamentally the same but undeniably different. idk 🤷 you decide)

[writingoneshots]

How dare your box be almost empty!

let me change that

NOOOWWWW IMAGINE WITH ME

ya hear me

our beloved red head captain as usual he pulled another all nighter in his tinker shop(is that what they are called... i feel like i am missing a word)

just hyperfocused on this new idea he has been working on and ain't no one in the crew capable to pul him out of there so they just let him be

tho now it's the dead of night no ones awake on the ship but our man is hungry he goes to the kitchen just to approach it to stand in the doorway watching as his s/o is making herself something to whilst singing and dancing around the kitchen

anf he just... eustass kid. exe has stopped working

this man is confused for a second because if there is someone else awake then it should be wire because he has night dutie... and it also seems like that his s/o is just... not noticing him so he decides to enjoy the show a bit before he walks in and kind of moves with you and around you... still not noticing him weirdly enough so he just gets bold and grabs a chunk of your half finished food and eats it AND FINALLY YOU NOTICE HIM (our boi got a little attention starved there)

aaaannnnnnddd that's where my brain stops

enjoy my brainrots although it isn't the college art au this time BUT WE CAN'T HAVE AN EMPTY INBOX

anyway hope you are having a nice and keep up the good work mami

-your au anon( yeah lets go with au anon here😂)

Surprise.. coming up

Hola, au anon :) !  I enjoyed a little writing session in my current stress period right now. Sorry for not posting more, I am currently working on 2 projects at the same time and still need to proofread a few one-shots.  Please be patient.

- Kid x reader - my own OC -> Sova (Kid’s doctor) - 939 words; short OS this time - no smut but mention of it; threats from Kid (surprising, right?)

"Wha- ..Hey!", you looked at him surprised and didn't know how to react. This whole time you thought that you were alone in the kitchen and suddenly your boyfriend appeared out of nowhere. "If someone would have attacked us, you'd be screwed. I've been here for a while.", Kid spoke with a full mouth, trying to finish the part he stole so he could grab the other one before you took it. You realized his intention immediately and pushed the plate to his side of the counter. Kid looked at it a little disappointed, "Now it's not that appealing anymore. It's more interesting if you're not letting me have it." "Don't be a child.. just eat it and finish working, so we can go to bed.", you rolled your eyes and started to prepare a different sandwich for yourself and another one for Kid. "Why are you awake anyway?", Kid frowned and sat down at the counter, eyeing you carefully. "I just couldn't sleep and I felt like it's snack time.", you shrugged and finished the first sandwich for Kid. Kid nodded and grabbed the filled bread, not letting you out of his sight. "Okay, I just need to ask.. What are you building in there? You barely left the room for a few days..", you tilted your head a bit, curious about his answer. "Secret.", he smirked and always looked down on you whenever you weren't looking. "Oh really? You seem to have a lot of secrets lately. Especially after a long talk, which you've had with Sova.", you narrowed your eyes at him pushed a glass of water into his direction. Kid just shrugged and didn't even want to comment on that. "So.. you're not going to tell me?" Kid shook his head. "Not even a hint?" He shook his head again. "..alright.. I give up. I am too tired for this.", you sighed annoyed now and shook your head. Without even realizing it, you put away the ingredients for the sandwich because you weren't in the mood to eat anymore. You turned around to the door, wanting to leave the room. "You've been sleeping quite a lot, right?", Kid mumbled while trying to chew and speak at the same time. You rolled your eyes and continued walking to the door, "Yes, and?" "And you're really moody lately.", he swallowed the last bit and took a big sip of water, emptying the glass. "If you want to make me angry, you're doing everything correctly.", you turned now around, crossing your arms at your chest. "You sleep a lot, you're moody, horny 24/7 - which I really enjoy by the way -, you eat tons of crap and you gained a bit of weight. Now do the maths, woman.", Kid hurried to say these words before a loud burp escaped his lips. You didn't even pay attention to it, as your brain calculated what he had just explained to her. "Oh.. my God." "It's weird to hear you say and not scream that..", Kid frowned and brushed his fingers through his hair as he stood up. Instinctively, your hands reached down to your stomach, "You're joking.." "Trust me.. I wish I was.", Kid chuckled a bit and approached you, "But now, I don't mind. It's time for me to have my own heir and prepare him or her for their future as a real pirate." You looked up to him, not understanding how he could take this so lightly. "I am going to be honest, though. If that child chooses to be a marine, it better learn how to run fast..", Kid looked at you seriously and frowned at how confused you seemed to look. "What's the matter now? Aren't women supposed to be happy about children?" "I.. I don't know if I should even have kids. I don't know if I could be a good mother.", you looked at him now worried. Your thoughts couldn't find a logical path in your brain and it scared you. "Are you fucking kidding me? You are literally taking care of a bunch of idiots on this ship. If you can handle them, you can handle my heir. I wouldn't be working on a bed and the coolest toys if I wouldn't be believing in you.", Kid looked down to you and then to your stomach. He touched your stomach softly with his index finger, "You better be strong. A weakling won't survive on the sea. And if you're a girl.. you better be into women because no man is going to be good enough for

you!" Tears were rolling down your cheeks, happiness, excitement and a little bit of fear in them. It was all a lot to handle but you were sure that Kid would help you go through with it. "Thank you, Kid.. ", you leaned onto his chest, trying to calm yourself down. All of your last weeks made a lot of sense now. The times, when Killer's cooking upset you because nothing was tasting good. The few moments, when you kicked out innocent crew mates because they looked at you in a weird way. And all the times, you woke up Kid in the middle of the night, just to have him satisfy you until you wanted to go back to sleep. You were sure that you'd be able to go through all of this and raise a child, if he was with you. "But I was serious about the marine part.. I will leave the child on an island, if it just hints to want to become a marine.", Kid commented again, ruining the moment as usual.

[c-c-cherry]

Jojos Doing Jojo Things (with each other)✨😌

*sweating as the part 5 hc asks start piling up in my inbox*

 *looks at the one that mentions Jonathan*

Hello~~ I’m sorry for being criminally inactive here, I forgot during that long 6 month lockdown that I actually had a real life outside of the internet and now I have to go do real life things?? Instead of doing nothing but writing?? Crimes, I tell you.

I love the idea of Jonathan interacting with all the other jojos so I thought I’d take a little break from part 5 whump headcanons to fulfill this one :D SO HERE’S SOME SELF-INDULGENT HEADCANONS ABOUT JONATHAN DOING FUN LITTLE ACTIVITIES WITH THE OTHER JOJOS BECAUSE I KNOW WE ALL NEED IT RIGHT NOW😭😭😭

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Joseph (lets say Youngseph in this case because shhh)

-Hear me out but KNITTING

-Let this man do some nice calm things please

-Joseph has absolutely no way to connect with Jonathan. Like. Nothing.

-He doesn’t see the two of them as anything alike even though they both have the star, and when it comes to connecting with such a righteous, nice dude he’s a bit :/ about it

-He also doesn’t want to do anything stupid (In his words.) He hates baking, he’s never been into reading and school, and the two can never really click with sports

-Our man Jonathan has searched his heart and soul for something to bring the two of them together but Joseph is always just not into it >:(

-He’s almost given up on connecting at all BUT—

-One thing they do have in common? Erina.

-BOOM. Johnny-boy suddenly has ideas >:)

-Joseph is really put off when Jonathan shows up with a ball of yarn and needles and in the most innocent way possible he’s like “I have something to show you ^-^”

-the first thing Joseph thinks is NO FUCKING WAY. If Caesar or his mother or anyone caught him fucking knitting he’d never be able to live it down

-So instead he just watches as Jonathan sits by the fire, and it looks really boring at first but he just starts going at it

-And of course the gears start turning and all his brain sees is “fast task?? task I can be good at? something quick my hands can do??”

-And Jonathan looks up to take a break to see Joseph perched on the edge of the chair in complete awe, but the moment he asks if he wants to know how to do it, Joseph gets really withdrawn :/

The rest of their conversation goes a little like this:

“Isn’t that meant for girls?”

“Why would hats and scarves be only for girls?”

“But its—”

“You know...I’m making Erina a matching hat and scarf for her birthday. I could use a little help with the scarf…”

“...”

“We can make it a race.”

And with a fire lighting in his eyes, Joseph accepts the contest even though he has no idea what he’s doing. But isn’t that what he does best?

-Needless to say, he becomes obsessed.

-When his greatest fear comes true and Caesar finds out, he’s too obsessed to care about the teasing

-Joseph is good at something that Caesar isn’t. Caesar is jealous. Caesar picks up knitting.

-Are knitting contests even a thing?? I don’t care because Joseph and Caesar could probably open a fucking etsy shop with all the stuff they make (and absolutely shamelessly at that)

-Anytime they meet someone new it's immediately “which hat is better?” “Joseph’s is worse, right?” “Can you start the stopwatch for us?”

-Even in his older years, he never actually stopped making things for Holy, Suzi, and even sometimes Jotaro (thought Joot wouldn’t be caught dead wearing any of it in public)

-He actually progresses past knitting and making clothes in general becomes a secret passion of his

-The hat he’s wearing in part 4? He definitely made that. And don’t even think he doesn’t send Josuke the tackiest shit in the mail

Jonathan is very proud :)

Jotaro

-Animals. Is that even a question?

-Jonathan was always more of a dog or cat person, but the moment he finds out that Jotaro’s interested in marine life? MAN GOES ALL OUT

-He not only researches the shit out of marine biology just so he can hold up a conversation with him, but he also buys A SHIT TON OF BOOKS for his favourite angst man

-We all know that Jotaro isn’t exactly a man of words, but his heart is touched when they exchange a few sentences and Jonathan shows up the next day with a book all about what they were talking about🥺

-Like—Jonathan was always scolded for never listening to his father, but when it comes to stuff like this, Jotaro swears he’s able to read his mind

-Most people can barely get him to utter a sentence, but when these two are alone they’ll talk for hours about the ocean

-Holy was actually pretty worried for a while that Jotaro rarely ever opened up to anyone, but after seeing the two of them talk it was like a weight lifted off her shoulders :)

-They go on trips all the time to study water life. First, it's just to the river a few minutes away. Then they start going out to the lake nearby, and then they’re suddenly borrowing Joseph’s private boat and going on all these “research trips” together

-Which just consist of Jotaro taking hundreds of pictures and surprisingly never shutting up about what he sees (which is definitely a first)

-They pass by snooty, rich fishermen all the time who make fun of them for only looking at the animals, and Jonathan secretly uses Hamon to attract the fish to anywhere but where the fishers are lol

-I can blame snipster on instagram for introducing me to Smiletaro but the pure happiness and smiles of happy Joot on this boat with Jonathan is like a DRUG

-Star Platinum is absolutely thrilled, and when Jonathan realizes that Star is an amazing artist, he actually buys the stand a cute little purple notebook to draw all the ocean life they come across :3

-The moment they get back to shore Jotaro’s all -_- again around people, but you can still see the excitement in his eyes if you look hard enough

-When he gets into school for marine biology, Jonathan is so fucking proud

-This is an au which means anything can happen so I formally declare that Jonathan definitely got Jotaro those golden dolphin-shaped coat pins when the man first goes off to Uni

-He wears them as a good luck charm :3

Josuke

-Josuke is soooo easy to get along with, especially since both of them are such warm people :)

-Jonathan figures that it wouldn’t be hard to find something fun to do together, but when he actually thinks about it...he really knows nothing about what Josuke likes to do

-He ends up just asking the kid next time they see each other, and they end up just agreeing to teach each other one thing the other doesn’t know

-Because the power of KNOWLEDGE BABYYY

-Josuke shows up the next day with an entire fucking Nintendo 64 and is absolutely set on teaching him how to play something

-Erina just kinda watches like 👁👄👁 as Josuke plugs it in and Jonathan is confused but also SUPER EXCITED because he barely even knows what a video is but there are also video games??

-After much internal debate, Josuke decides on Ocarina of Time because he’s worried Jonathan will have a fucking heart attack if they play something like Mario Kart

-Also he thinks Jojo would enjoy the whole “righteous hero coming of age” archetype thing because,,,you know,,,

-They start it up and immediately Jonathan is like WHAT and has no idea how to play and dies in ways that Josuke didn’t even know were possible, but they somehow make it to the first temple with a lot of help from Josuke

-Right before the boss fight, his mom pulls up like “bitch we gotta go come on” so Josuke sees no harm in leaving the system at Jonathan’s and coming back next week

-Oho,,,ohohooo,,,

-He comes back a week later to a dark house,,,Erina’s off on some trip, and he can hear the faintest “HYAH!” coming from the living room

-He walks in to find Jonathan in the exact same spot he left him, ALL OTHER SAVE FILES ARE COMPLETE, and he’s in some obscure location doing a side quest Josuke didn’t even know existed

-Turns out he’s really good at quest games

-After Josuke realizes that Jonathan’s managed to beat the game more than once, he asks if he wants to try out another game

-To which Jonathan replies: “There’s MORE?”

.

-Aside from giving Jonathan a crippling video game addiction, Josuke also learns a vital thing about Jonathan Joestar

-Hamon ^-^

-Josuke’s a little surprised that Jonathan can even see his stand, and Jonathan has no other way to explain it than that it must be connected to his Hamon somehow

-To which Josuke is like “what” and Jonathan realizes that his stupid fucking grandson decided not to tell ANY OTHER Joestar about Hamon

-He’s no Zeppeli, but he could try and teach him...even if it didn’t work, it would still be a nice bonding activity

-When Jonathan finds out that Josuke’s stand ability is revolved around healing, he’s overjoyed because he might have a better chance

-They start small with breathing exercises and meditation, which eventually lead to Jonathan trying to teach Josuke how to make things like flowers

-Since it doesn’t exactly come naturally to Josuke, things don’t exactly work out,,,but both are unsurprisingly happy when Josuke manages to make a single flower bloom :3

-It’s not much, but it’s there and it honestly makes Josuke feel much better knowing that he could eventually learn how to heal himself, too :)

Giorno

-Jonathan considered teaching Giorno Hamon a while ago, but he realized that his stand already has the properties of Hamon, if not just in a more humanoid form

-And when Jojo puts two and two together that he and his son can both grow a lot of plant life, he has the perfect idea

-Garden buddies!!!! :D

-They grow everything you could possibly think of, and to top it all off, Giorno fills the garden with all this animal life :)

-When it comes to biology, Giorno never shuts up about it. He’s the quietest kid when it comes to virtually anything else but prepare for MAJOR info dumps about frogs and his vast knowledge of flowers

-Speaking of flowers, them just sitting and growing them together and talking about all of their favourites? Yes please

-Although they love to accelerate plant growth, there’s one patch in the middle of the garden that they’re determined to grow naturally

-Also them growing and eating carambola (star fruit) together because it’s my pocket dimension that makes no sense and I get to decide what fun fruits the Joestars get to eat together

-the garden becomes a great place for picnics and outings and the best place to go when things get too chaotic

-Giorno starts a plant journal where he records everything that ends up growing there, and Jonathan starts impulse buying all these flower guide books so they can look at pictures of them and put their favourites in the garden :3

-They end up creating a little pond in the middle of everything, and Giorno puts a whole bunch of frogs and fish in it and it's all very tranquil and calm and nice :))

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I was gonna do part 6 (maybe part 7 too?) but mental energy? I don’t know her, sorry y’all :(

Feel free to add on though!! I wanna see what y’all would think Jonathan would wanna do with Jolyne or anyone else I missed :D My first thought for Jolyne was Rugby because Jonathan was a rugby KING and I feel like she’d be really good at it lmao

[raleighcarrera]

make way

open heart | bryce lahela x mc (casey valentine)

the prompt said: ‘bryce tells mc that he loves her while she's falling asleep and the next morning she just assumes it was a dream bc she was just so tired’

also for @choicesseptemberchallenge20 day 1 which worked out nicely (tired)

tags: @choicesarehard ; @zigtheeortega ; @omgjasminesimone ; @beccadavenport ; @pixeljazzy 💕

~2.3k words | T

she’s coming off of thirty-six hours straight at the hospital when it happens.

it’s been an exceedingly long week. balancing her work on the diagnostics team along with her regular responsibilities and managing her intern would be difficult enough without the added wrench of a bus crash thrown into her day, but, of course, that’s the way life at edenbrook goes: every day has its own new bus crash, in one way or another.

regardless, there’s new injured patients to treat and old ones to check up on and high-profile cases to worry about in the interim, so she can use her strategy to save the hospital and then rub dr. ramsey’s self-righteous nose in her success (in that order).

there’s a lot going on, and not much time to sleep. there’s brief breaks, here and there -- just enough for a quick nap in the on-call rooms -- but then it’s right back to work.

and before she knows it, it’s been thirty-six hours and bryce is forcibly dragging her onto the t in her scrubs, and she’s falling asleep with her head on his shoulder and almost definitely drooling onto his jacket.

because he’s bryce, and he’s perfect, he doesn’t say anything about that. he only runs his fingers through her hair and takes her home to his blessedly quiet, roommate-less apartment, where the pizza delivery’s been timed so perfectly that the driver is actually coming up in the elevator at the same time they are.

casey’s so grateful she could cry. instead, she waits until her mouth is half-full with her third slice to look over at her boyfriend with wide, appreciative eyes and groan, “god, you’re wonderful.”

bryce laughs at her. “please. i’m just glad i found you before you actually collapsed in ramsey’s office.”

she nods, finally chewing and swallowing the bite she’d paused to sing his praises. “i am going to sleep -- all day tomorrow.” her head is throbbing. it’s a massive effort just to remember what day it is, but there’s one thing sticking out to her, a fuzzy memory from when they’d compared schedules last weekend. “wait. you have to work?”

he sighs, dusting off his hands. “yeah.” bryce pulls a face as if to imply that it’s the single worst thing that’s ever happened to him. “sorry, babe. wish i could kick it here with you.”

“it’s okay.” a wide yawn stretches her mouth open. “you don’t mind if i stay here?”

“nah.” bryce’s smile is easygoing and a little excited. “stay as long as you want. knowing you’re here will make my day go by faster.”

maybe, she thinks deliriously, her limbs feeling even heavier now that she’s eaten than they had on their commute home, she can do something nice for him tomorrow. make dinner, or something -- after she’s slept.

casey blinks, realizing all at once that she’s completely zoned out again. “what? sorry. i’m just --”

“i know.” there’s a fondness in his voice and a softness in his eyes when he stands and pulls her to her feet, tugging her in so she can lean against him. she does so immediately, burrowing into the warmth of his chest. “come on. let’s get you to bed.”

she isn’t sure exactly how it happens, but when she yawns at him next, it’s from the lush safety of his mattress and the blankets on his bed; casey cuddles into the pillows and blinks sleepily up at him, waiting for bryce to join her. the only thing in the world that could make going to sleep now, at eight o’clock with a day off ahead of her, is having her boyfriend’s body heat beside her to soak up.

but bryce laughs at her again, shaking his head. “i gotta put the food away. i’ll be in in a minute.”

“fine,” casey mumbles. the word breaks with another yawn halfway through. her eyelids are already fluttering. “just -- hurry up.”

“of course.” she feels the brush of his lips against her forehead, and then her mouth, bryce’s kiss so gentle it’s almost not there. his fingers slip through her hair again.

the sound she makes is somewhere between a delighted groan and a sigh of pure content. she isn’t sure she’s ever been so comfortable in her life; bryce’s bed is warm and cozy and the sheets are clean -- they smell like him, and so does the shirt she’s wearing. her whole body is heavy with exhaustion and the satisfaction of the work she’s done. she feels cared for. she’s happy.

just before everything goes dark, somewhere, in the space she’s floating in between sleep and wakefulness, she hears bryce’s voice -- one last hesitant murmur of her name. it’s only on the very edge of her conscious, but she’s positive the words he says are, “i love you, casey.”

*

the apartment is predictably silent when she wakes up.

there’s nothing like the peacefulness that comes from waking up in an empty apartment. with so many roommates, it isn’t something that casey’s accustomed to, and she relishes it now, soaking up the stillness of bryce’s bedroom joyfully.

there’s birds chirping outside. she turns her face into the pillows and breathes in slowly, burrowing a little further into the sheets.

there’s nothing on the horizon, for today -- no work, no chores, no responsibilities. it’s the perfect way to start her day, if only her boyfriend was in bed beside her.

speaking of. casey reaches her hand out, fumbling blindly on the nightstand until it closes around her cellphone. she finally blinks her eyes open when she pulls the device under the sheets with her, balking at the time displayed on the home screen.

it’s past two-thirty in the afternoon.

she blinks, knuckling sleep out of her eyes. she really had been exhausted.

there’s a slew of text messages waiting for her, mostly from her roommates. the group chat is abuzz with wondering where she is and if she’s alive; casey holds off on answering them in favor of navigating to her thread with bryce, where he’s texted good morning beautiful and text me when you wake up. getting out of bed this morning was impossible with you in it

her teeth bite at her bottom lip to stifle the smile that’s threatening. eight months of being official with bryce and it still never gets old, to be on the receiving end of those cheesy, over-the-top compliments. no boyfriend of hers before him had ever sent a good morning text message.

hiiiiiiiiii she writes back, spreading out in his bed, just woke up. hope today’s going well for you. can’t wait to get you back in this bed with me

his reply is almost immediate. fuck you, it says, making her grin up at the ceiling, i’m about to go into surgery. you’re evil

casey settles for an onslaught of heart emojis, as she rolls out of said bed and heads for the kitchen. as expected, there’s no food in bryce’s fridge, but there is coffee, and she takes her time enjoying it and flipping through the channels on bryce’s tv -- they don’t have cable, at her place -- before finally making her way into the shower.

she’s in the middle of shampooing her hair when she remembers what happened last night. it comes back to her abruptly, the memory too vivid to be true. bryce’s lips, brushing against hers -- his hands pulling the comforter up to her shoulders -- and then...

i love you, casey.

she frowns, tipping her head back under the water to rinse her hair.

that has to have been a dream, right?

she’d remember it, if it were real. she’d’ve said something to him, last night, or... today. he’d’ve said something about it.

right?

casey marinates on it for the entirety of her shower, waffling back and forth. it both feels like a dream and not, making it difficult to ascertain what really happened. she was exhausted last night -- she barely remembers leaving the hospital, after all. but if bryce had really said... for the first time...

she’d have to remember that, wouldn’t she?

she thinks about it when she gets dressed and heads to the store to find something passable she can make for dinner (though it’s definitely going to be pasta, again). last night was a blur; her memory of everything that happened after bryce found her in the on-call room is in bits and pieces. there’s only the vague outline of their evening flashing in her mind: sleeping on him on the t, eating pizza shoulder-to-shoulder on the couch, stumbling into his bedroom and falling into bed...

and then the same bit she can’t stop thinking about, as clear as day -- his kiss, and the soft, hesitant sound of his voice when he’d said those three words and that reverent utterance of her name.

it plays in her head on a loop in the check-out line. it has to have been a dream, that’s the only explanation for it.

he wouldn’t -- they don’t -- because he’s not...

...except that he might be.

he might be, because she’s pretty sure that she is, and -- if he felt the same way, that would be... life-changing. exceptional. pretty much the greatest thing to ever happen to her, outside of her professional accomplishments.

because bryce is pretty much the greatest thing to ever happen to her. he is everything she’s ever wanted and didn’t know she was looking for -- completely different from her usual ‘type’ in the best way. bryce is smart and thoughtful and funny and witty and devastatingly sexy -- complex and considerate and an amazing listener and a world-class shoulder massager...

someone so easy to fall in love with she hadn’t even realized it was happening until it was too late.

so her stupid, useless brain had probably imagined that he’d said it first to give her something pleasant to dream about. casey glares bitterly at the tomatoes she’s blistering when the realization washes over her.

and that’s how bryce finds her: in the kitchen, stirring spaghetti in sweats she stole out of his closet, her long hair still drying where it’s damp on her shoulders. he’s loud when he crowds in behind her at the stove, talking a mile a minute about his day, how good it smells in the apartment and how much he missed her, all at once.

he buries his face in the crook of her neck and inhales, pressing his lips lightly against the side of her throat. “you sleep okay?”

casey relaxes despite herself and her annoyance, melting a little against his chest. she nods. “yeah. thanks for taking care of me last night.”

bryce’s hands are warm when they slip under the hem of her (his) hoodie. his hands fan out over her hips. “of course,” he murmurs, nuzzling his nose at the base of her neck, “anything for you, babe.”

maybe he had said it.

she thinks about it some more as she spoons pasta into two plates and they tumble back onto the couch together. the words bounce around in her brain while he slurps spaghetti beside her, interspersed with more compliments: how good dinner is, how thoughtful she is, how multi-talented she manages to be.

well, there’s only one way to find out.

casey lets him clear the plates away and load the dishwasher because she cooked, and it’s only fair, and waits until he’s back on the couch with her with that inviting space at his side wide open.

then, she slips into it, wrapping her arms around his waist and leaning against him. bryce’s arm curls around her shoulders in turn, and his lips press a delicate kiss to the top of her head.

“i love you,” casey sighs. the words leave her lips so easily she’s hardly able to believe that there was once a point in time where she felt nervous to be the first to say so.

it’s true, after all. she’s not sure if she’s ever been in love, before -- she thought she had, but it wasn’t like this (nothing could ever be like this) -- but she’s positive about bryce. with her life constantly in flux, filled with so much chaos, being with bryce is the one thing she feels like she’s actually gotten right.

his hand stills from where he’d been rubbing her shoulder, hesitating for just a moment. then, he says, “i love you, too.”

casey turns her cheek to look up at him, her eyes wide. “really?”

the laugh he gives is low and fond, sending a thrill of happiness straight down her spine and to her toes. “how could i not?”

“so... you did say that last night. i thought it was a dream.” the swarm of butterflies in her stomach beat their wings harder at the very idea.

bryce makes a noncommittal hum into her hair. “i wasn’t sure if you heard me. i meant it, though. i love you, case.”

casey opens her mouth to crack a joke, but her throat feels suspiciously tight. how emotional she is catches her completely off guard, surprising her silent.

so -- she’s loved. by probably the most perfect man on the east coast, if not in the entire united states of america. or the world.

weird. part of her had thought something like this might never happen for her.

“i...” she trails off, shaking her head. it’s overwhelming, just how happy she is. her arms press bryce a little closer, pulling him to her a little tighter. “um, thank you.”

he laughs again, sounding taken aback. “for what?”

“for loving me,” casey answers, as though it should be obvious.

she can feel bryce’s shrug against her side; the movement jostles her against him, a little -- but then he squeezes her back, crushing her into the broad planes of his chest.

“it’s easy,” he promises, and though he’s the first person to ever say so, she believes him.

[lopithecusfanfiction]

Old Nightmares

Author: Lopithecus Pairing: Kaidan Alenko/Male Shepard Rating: General Audience Word Count: 1294 Alternate: AO3 Summary: Shepard has a nightmare about Akuze and finds comfort in Kaidan Warnings: N/A Author's Note: This is for Day 1 of Mass Effect Trilogy Appreciation Week! Do you think, even with the Reaper Invasion, Shepard would still have nightmares about his past? Please enjoy! Prompt: Day 1 - Nightmare

The wind is blowing, there’s dirt getting into his hair and eyes and all the nooks and crannies his armor has. Blood curdling screams are all around him, loud in his ears, only to be drowned out by the roar of the attacking creature as it drags another crewmember down into the ground.

Shepard squints out from where he is kneeling behind a rock, wishing he had worn his helmet to keep the dirt out of his eyes. It’s not the best of hiding places, the giant worm very easily being able to find him if it so wished. Shepard reaches up, swipes at the sweat gathered on his forehead, and takes a shaky breath. The moon is bright, its light shining down on all the Marines, but it doesn’t make it easier to see the monster that keeps appearing out of nowhere.

Shepard jumps out of his hiding spot, raising his gun, and shooting a couple rounds into the huge creature. “Connolly, move!”

Connolly, one of the younger officers, scrambles up from where he had tripped, the monster turning its attention on to Shepard. It spits acid at him and Shepard rolls out of the way, just barely getting out of the splash zone. The creature roars in anger, quickly burrowing back into the ground.

Connolly halts beside Shepard, breathing heavily. “What is that thing?”

“I don’t know,” Shepard states, gun at the ready. He looks around. Five Marines are left, including him, out of the fifty that were sent to investigate the missing colonists. “Keep sharp.”

The ground rumbles and Connolly loses his balance, grabbing a hold of Shepard’s shoulder to stay upright. Then the ground explodes and dirt goes flying towards them, Forbes screaming in agony. When the dirt settles, Shepard watches as Forbes' body, covered in blood, is dragged beneath the surface, the man clawing at the ground but finding no purchase in the loose material. Shepard hears Forbes scream for help ringing in his ears.

“Everybody move!” he yells and the rest of the terrified team start running, in no particular direction. Shepard turns to Connolly, shoves at his back to get him moving, and yells at him to get going. But the man is frozen in his spot, eyes fixated on where Forbes disappeared. They had been good friends. More than friends. This is why you don’t fraternize.

“Connolly!” Connolly’s eyes dart to Shepard, the ground rumbles again and suddenly Shepard isn’t close to the officer anymore. Instead he’s meters away, the entire crew gone except for the two of them and the giant worm is right there, above Connolly and…

“Shepard,” Connolly’s voice is a whisper in Shepard's ear and it shakes with fear. He’s only nineteen years old, practically a child, and Shepard reaches out, the monster roars, bears down on Connolly and…

“Connolly!”

Shepard wakes suddenly, taking a quick breath in, as if he’s coming up for air. He blinks the fogginess out of his eyes, runs a hand through his damp hair, and tries to calm his rapidly beating heart. His body is covered in a cold sweat, the sheets sticking to his skin uncomfortably. He squeezes his eyes shut, forces himself to breathe calmly once, twice, three times, and then reopens them to stare at the window on the ceiling.

He lies there, watching the stars go by slowly, reminding himself that Joker is flying them to the Citadel for a much needed supply run. They should be a few days out still and Shepard had planned on going around to the crew members to inquire about materials they might need that the Alliance budget could buy them. Tali had mentioned something about needing more dextro cheese a few days ago and Garrus had grunted in agreement which had prompted this little trip to the Citadel in the first place.

Shepard takes a deep breath, licking his lips, and knowing he is safe, he can feel himself calming down now. He turns onto his side, in the direction of his bedmate, and watches as Kaidan sleeps on his stomach, head facing away from Shepard. He’s surprised his nightmare hasn't woken him up. It’s a testament of just how tired Kaidan must be. Shepard doesn’t blame him. After all, they all have their own nightmares that keep them up at night.

Shepard reaches out and places a gentle hand between Kaidan’s shoulder blades. The biotic’s back is bare, the two of them being naked, and the covers have slid down to the small of his back, exposing the skin there. Shepard drags his hand down Kaidan’s spine in one long swipe and Kaidan startles, jumping slightly. Shepard tilts his head, places a soft kiss to Kaidan’s shoulder, and whispers, “Sorry,” before dragging his hand back up his back.

He feels Kaidan relax, enjoying the glide of Shepard’s hand on his skin now that he knows who is doing it. Shepard adds a little pressure, massaging the tight muscles as best he can at this angle. He kisses Kaidan’s shoulder once more, peppering it with light pecks, before reaching up and dragging his index finger over Kaidan’s amp port. Kaidan groans, low in his throat, and Shepard does it again to elicit the same sound from the man. “Does that hurt?”

Kaidan, more awake and alert now, turns his head to look at Shepard. “Sensitive.” He yawns. “What’s wrong?”

Shepard should have known that Kaidan would still realize something was wrong despite Shepard’s efforts in distracting him with his question. “It’s stupid.” He goes back to rubbing Kaidan’s back, abandoning the amp port. He doesn’t want to make Kaidan uncomfortable.

Kaidan takes a deep breath in and he looks tired but he’s obviously too worried to go back to sleep. “Tell me.”

Shepard eyes the biotic before turning back onto his back, removing his hand all together from Kaidan. “I had a nightmare. It was weird though.” Kaidan keeps quiet, giving Shepard the time he needs to talk about the dream. Shepard huffs at remembering what exactly his brain had made him see. “It was about Akuze.” He shakes his head, huffs again, and reaches up to cover his eyes with the crook of his arm. “There’s a Reaper invasion going on and my mind decided to give me a nightmare about Akuze.”

“Well,” Kaidan starts, in that breathy way that he does and Shepard loves. “A Reaper invasion doesn’t just erase the other past traumas.”

Shepard sighs and lowers his arm to look at Kaidan, making eye contact with him. Kaidan’s own eyes are half lidded with exhaustion and black circles underneath them. He could probably stand to get a few more hours of sleep but Shepard knows that if he gets up, Kaidan will too to keep him company. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

He reaches out again and cups Kaidan’s cheek. Kaidan smiles at him and turns on to his side, pulling the covers up to his chin. “Cold?” Shepard questions, scooting closer to Kaidan and wrapping him up in his arms. He doesn’t really want to talk about Reapers or nightmares anymore so he changes tactics, practically rolling on top of Kaidan and attacking his exposed neck with ticklish kisses.

“Shepard,” Kaidan says, voice full of laughter and, well, Shepard is glad that he has someone who can help him through his nightmares, someone to wake up next to, and someone to love and protect and maybe even grow old with if they both make it out of this war in one piece.

And as the nightmare gets pushed to the back of Shepard’s brain, he enjoys Kaidan’s laughter in his ears and his warmth in his arms as they both lie in bed, content to pretend everything will be okay.

————————————���————————————————————

A/N: Thanks for reading!

[shakespeareanwannabe]

Strange Comforts

Santiago ‘Pope’ Garcia x OC

Summary: A sequel to ‘Protective Instincts’ and a prequel to ‘Best Laid Plans’ (I wish I could link them here but I’m still figuring that stuff out). With T-minus 10 weeks to go before the baby arrives, Pope discovers that it’s the little things in life that bring the most comfort. *This one’s not based off clarke’s wonderful headcanons, but it’s set in the same universe so that’s where the credit goes!*

Warnings: Pregnancy fic, swearing, references to smut, references PTSD, references to therapy

A/N: Hi everyone! This is part three of who-knows-how-many of my Dad!Pope series. I’m still looking for a series title, and I’m trying to figure out how to create a masterlist for this so I can put them in order for y’all. I hope you enjoy! I loved reading your comments for the last two! Please let me know if you want to be tagged in future installments!

***

“…and, unless someone else wants to share, I think we’ll wrap up for today,” the kind-eyed therapist addressed the group of veterans, shooting a small glance towards Pope out of the corner of his eye.

True to his word, Santiago had been attending group therapy sessions for the last six months, his first session taking place exactly a week after Bex had told him the good news. Will had highly recommended this therapist, having gone to see him himself when his fiancée had left him, and hoped he could shed some light on Pope’s issues so that he wouldn’t walk out on his pregnant girlfriend next time things got hard.

And Pope had been attending the sessions. Listening to what other veterans said, the issues they were going through, it helped. Sure, both Frankie and Will had been fairly vocal about the problems they ran into while trying to adjust to civilian life, and Pope knew that Tom had had massive difficulties when they forced him to retire, and Benny’s issues were plain to see even if he didn’t talk about them, but those were his friends, his brothers, his family. They had all seen the same shit, so, clearly, they would have similar issues. But hearing random strangers, Marines, and Rangers, Navy and Military and Air Force men and women speak about seeing IEDs everywhere, and drinking to forget, and panicking at the sight of blood was…strangely comforting. The only problem was that Pope could never bring himself to speak.

He wanted to. God knew he wanted to. He needed to be okay. For Bex and the baby, for Frankie and Charlie and Mateo, for Benny and Will, for Molly and the girls, and, most importantly, for himself. So he could stop feeling like a major fuck up in every aspect of his life, so he could feel deserving of the life he had inexplicably been blessed with. But whenever he would try to open his mouth, he froze. How could he possibly talk about the shit he had done in the name of freedom? Was there a way to talk about his instincts shutting his emotions down without coming across as a cold-hearted bastard? Why did his tongue stop working whenever he tried to talk about how deathly afraid he was of screwing up this baby’s life, Bex’s life, their life together as a family? How deathly afraid he was that he had already screwed up Frankie’s, Will’s, and Benny’s lives? How he had nightmares of when Tom had died?

Santiago used to think he was a brave man, but now he felt like a coward. He could face down armed sicarios and terrorists without batting an eye, but he couldn’t talk about his emotions to save his family. It was complete and utter bullshit in his mind.

“Alright everyone, I’ll see you next week,” the therapist dismissed the group and Pope shot to his feet, beelining towards the coffee station.

Everyone else stood around talking, chatting about their daily lives or the weather or whatever, but Pope focused on mixing his coffee. He used to take it black, but then Bex started teasing him that only psychopaths took their coffee black, so he started mixing milk and sugar in instead. He liked it, but he needed it to be perfect.

“You actually drink this swill?” the therapist came up behind him and chuckled.

Pope cracked a smile. “I’ve had worse.”

“Haven’t we all,” he murmured. “Question Mark.”

Santiago shook his hand. “Pope.”

“You’re Ironhead’s friend, right?” Pope nodded. “Damn…he’s told me some of the crap you guys have been through. Sounds like holy hell.”

“Something like that, yeah.”

“Shit, man. No wonder you don’t talk during these meetings.”

Pope felt himself flush. “I mean…you know…”

“Hey, it’s fine. This is a no pressure situation. You just had me curious is all. Either you get people who don’t stop talking, or people who never talk in these sessions. But you…you always look like you want to talk but think better of it.”

Pope shrugged. “It’s like you said. Holy hell. Got used to not talking about the bad stuff.”

“So, what changed?”

Pope smiled softly, his eyes taking on a far-off look. “My girl’s pregnant.”

“Congratulations, man,” Question Mark slapped him on the shoulder.

“Thanks…” Pope shook his head slowly, sadly. “I almost screwed it up. Hell, I’m half convinced that I did, and this is all a dream. But when she told me…”

Question Mark was already nodding. “All of your training went haywire? Started imagining the worst?”

Pope cocked his eyebrow grimly. “Basically.”

The therapist nodded understandingly. “I get that. Same thing happened to me when my wife got pregnant with our third. Despite the other two being great kids, something about my last tour made me think that I’d screw the pooch with the new one. Checked myself into a hotel for a few days and drank myself silly until my brother-in-law showed up and told me that my kids were asking about me. That sobered me up pretty quick.”

Pope grinned grimly. “It was my buddy Catfish for me. Called me and reamed me out, and if Ironhead has told you anything about Fish, you know that he’s not the type at all. But it shook me enough to get my ass back to my house and beg for her forgiveness.”

“But you still sometimes think it’s all a dream?”

“I always thought guys like me don’t get the happy ending.” Pope sipped his coffee and shrugged. “But I’ll take it and run with it. She’s the best thing in my life. I’m not gonna let her down again.”

Question Mark smiled and dug into his pocket, pulling out first his wallet, then his card from his wallet. “Listen, Pope. I know how it can feel trying to talk to a room full of strangers. It sucks sometimes. If you ever want to chat, just one on one, give me a call. I’d be happy to help.”

Pope sucked in a deep breath and took the card. “Yeah, man. That would be great. Thank you.”

“No worries, man. Just, do me a favour?” Pope nodded. “Remember that you deserve this, okay?”

With a final clap on the shoulder, Question Mark moved away and began chatting with another member of the group.

Pope guzzled down the rest of his coffee and threw out the cup, heading home after a successful session.

***

Bex giggled to herself at the soft sounds of cursing and arguing emanating from the spare bedroom as she stirred the pitcher of lemonade.

Frankie, Benny and Will had come over to help Pope put together the furniture for the nursery and, based on the echoes she was hearing, it was not going particularly well. She had abandoned her rocking chair in favour of making the team refreshments after Benny had let loose a string of impressive swear words in two different languages. At approximately 30 weeks pregnant, laughing as hard as she did while listening to Ben swear himself blue in the face just made her have to pee, so she dismissed herself knowing that if she didn’t she would have to endure a lifetime of teasing.

“Just a sec!” she called out as the doorbell rang.

Slow and steady footsteps descended the stairs as a call of “I got it, babe!” echoed down the hall. Rebecca came around the corner with her tray of lemonade and potato chips as Pope handed over a few crisp twenty-dollar bills to the pizza delivery guy.

“Thanks man, you have a good day,” he smiled as he closed the door.

“Mmm, what’d you get?” she inhaled deeply. She’d gotten pretty lucky with the cravings so far, but she would not deny that pizza sounded pretty damn good.

“Got us a meat lovers, got you a pepperoni and pineapple since I know you’ve been on a sweet and salty kick lately.” Pope opened the smaller box to reveal the steaming, cheesy pizza and Bex felt her mouth begin to water.

“Have I told you today how much I love you?” she asked, placing her tray of snacks on top of the pizza boxes Pope was holding out to her.

He smirked at her, his eyes drifting up and down her body slowly. “You told me several times this morning, but I’ll never stop you from saying it again.”

Rebecca felt herself flush at the memory. Those second trimester hormones had hit her hard and seemed to be lasting a good long while, and Pope was certainly not complaining. His girl was stunning. She was always stunning to him, but that primal part of his brain told him that she was even more stunning when she had a belly full of his baby. Her bump was prominent, her tits were bigger and more sensitive, her skin was glowing, and that alpha male voice inside his brain crowed every time he woke up to her beautiful face and growing belly that it was all because of him. He had knocked her up and, thank God, she had decided that she loved him enough to want to raise a family with him. She was achy and uncomfortable, but she loved him and wanted his kid, and that meant more to him than he could ever say. Luckily, with the influx of hormones the past few months, he had been able to show her instead.

He watched as she slowly climbed the stairs, taking care to stay a few steps behind her just in case.

“How’s it going up here anyway?”

Pope groaned. “I don’t get it, baby. I can field strip any gun you put in my hands blindfolded. All of us can. How the fuck is this stuff beating us?”

Bex giggled softly as she entered the nursery and absorbed the scene in front of her. What she wouldn’t give for her phone right now so she could take a picture. Benny sat in the middle of the floor, looking like he was about to cry; crib pieces scattered around him. Will was leaning against the wall with a tired hand over his eyes, a half-assembled dresser beside him. Frankie was sitting in her abandoned rocking chair, cap pulled low over his eyes. He looked like he could be asleep, if only his leg wasn’t bouncing up and down anxiously.

“Soups on, fellas,” Pope announced, prompting the team to abandon their projects for paper plates piled high with pizza slices and tall glasses of lemonade.

Bex smiled fondly at her family as Pope, Benny and Will sat against the far wall underneath the bay window, the three men examining the assembly directions for the crib like they were preparing for a siege.

Frankie held out his hand to offer her the rocking chair but she shook her head. “If I sit in that thing any longer, I feel like I’m gonna turn into a grandmother instead of a mom.”

Frankie cracked a small smile. “Fair enough…” he scanned the room quickly before meeting her eyes again. “Do you want me to go grab a chair from the kitchen?”

Again, she shook her head. “The floor is good, Frankie.”

“You sure? I can—”

“As long as you promise to help me up when I inevitably need to pee, I’m positive,” she chuckled.

“You got it, kid,” Frankie held her hands to help her gently lower herself onto the hardwood floor before throwing himself down beside her. “How ya feeling?”

Bex shrugged as she bit into her deliciously sweet and salty slice of pizza. “You know, I’m actually alright. I know I’ve gotten pretty lucky, but I thought this whole pregnancy thing would be a lot tougher.”

Frankie nodded kindly as he chewed on his own slice. “I remember how Charlie was when she was pregnant with Mateo,” he reminisced. “Couldn’t sleep more than ten minutes at a time, constantly had to pee, had to wear these ugly compression socks. She handled it like a champ for the first 30 or so weeks, but by the time he was finally ready to make his entrance, we were both ready for her not to be pregnant anymore.”

“Yeah, she mentioned that,” she murmured. When Frankie had raced over to calm her down after Pope had left, one of the first things he said was that he and Charlie would be there for them, no matter what. And they had been. Charlie in particular had been Bex’s lifeline. She had been so kind and understanding, helping Bex get set up with an OB/GYN, lending her pregnancy and parenting books, and just letting her bitch and cry whenever she needed a female shoulder to cry on. “She said she got to a point where she would’ve given anything to just get Mateo out.”

Frankie nodded. “Oh yeah,” he sighed. “The week before he was born, she was not sleeping. Her emotions were all over the place, she wasn’t hungry, she couldn’t sit still, and she would get angry at me for the littlest things. It got to the point where I didn’t recognize her anymore, you know? Like, where did the woman I love go?”

Bex reached over and rubbed his shoulder comfortingly. “That must’ve been tough.”

Frankie shrugged. “Like I said, she handled it like a champ. And I sure as shit wasn’t about to complain when she was in labor for the better part of three days.”

Bex whistled lowly. “Three days…Jesus…”

“I’m sure it won’t be that way for you,” he backtracked quickly, playing with the back of his cap as he ducked his head. “I dunno the statistics or anything but…”

“Hey, hey, Frankie, chill. It’s okay.” She pulled his hand away from his hat and ran her hand up and down his arm. “You feeling okay, Frankie? You seem…on edge.”

Frankie looked across the room at his brothers, deeply entrenched in the assembly directions, before sighing. “She’s pregnant again,” he whispered.

A bright smile crossed her face. “What? Oh my god, congratulations!” She reached out and wrapped her arms as best she could around his shoulders.

“Thanks…” he sighed.

“Do you…did you not want another baby?” she asked, confused at his dismal attitude. Frankie had been the one to talk Pope off the cliff, telling him how great fatherhood could be. And it was clear through his interactions with Mateo that he was an amazing father. He was one of those dads who flourished under the responsibilities of parenthood, who saw taking care of their child as a joy and a privilege, not as a job or as babysitting. If there was one thing Rebecca knew for sure, it was that Francisco Morales was a family man through and through, so she was a little surprised at the dread in her friend’s eyes. She had expected Frankie to be more…enthusiastic about having a second baby.

“Of course, I do, Bex, I just…” Frankie groaned, doffing his cap for a moment to run a stressed hand through his hair before redonning it. “I’m making jack shit right now at work, and Mateo is almost three, and the pregnancy was so rough on Charlie last time…I just…I can’t let my family down.”

Charlie shuffled herself closer and wrapped her arm around Frankie, leaning her cheek on his shoulder. “You won’t…” she murmured softly. “Yeah, this kid was unexpected but you and I both know your wife. She wouldn’t be having a second kid if she didn’t want one. Plus, you both know what to expect now. Hopefully she’ll have an easier time this go around, but you also know the signs and what kinds of questions to ask. And yeah, Mateo is young, but that’s okay. You guys can start teaching him responsibility early and, if they both end up being too much, call Benny to take Mateo.” Frankie cocked his eyebrow and Bex laughed. “Well, I was gonna say call Santi, but we’re gonna be a little busy ourselves. Benny’s energy can match a three-year-old easily though.” Frankie chuckled and wrapped his arm around his best friend’s girl. “As for money,” Bex shrugged. “I know Santi could use some help managing the security firm. He wanted you to partner with him anyway, and he’s still holding out hope that you’ll join him, so why not?”

Frankie nodded slowly. “I could help him out a couple of days a week and still teach flying lessons. Yeah, that could work. I’ll talk with him and see what he says.”

Bex chuckled as she shifted uncomfortably. “It’s not gonna be much of a conversation, Frankie, trust me. He’s been hoping you’ll take him up on his offer. Don’t tell him I told you, but he’s missed working with you.”

Frankie smiled softly as he watched Pope grab Benny in a headlock while Will shook his head slowly. “Yeah, I missed him too.”

Bex shifted again and Frankie stood, gently helping her stand, recognizing the signs immediately. The two watched the MMA fighter and the security firm director wrestle on the floor for a minute before Will was able to separate them.

Bex turned to Frankie and smiled. “If you really missed him, can you do me a favour?”

“Anything for you, kid,” he smiled back at her.

“Stop fucking around and help them build the damn furniture please. I know you put together all of Mateo’s furniture on your own, so please, put them out of their misery.”

Frankie’s loud bark of laughter startled everyone. He wrapped his arm around Bex and gave her a quick squeeze. “Sure thing, kid. Hey, idiotas! Let’s get moving. We want this stuff ready before the baby’s first birthday, okay?”

***

Pope sighed contentedly as the golden rays of the setting sun illuminated the dust particles dancing in the air. These moments were quickly turning into his favourite nightly ritual.

The radio droned lowly as he sat in bed, dressed in a pair of shorts, with Bex sitting reclined against his chest. He had just finished applying coco butter to her skin, and now his hands were resting gently on her belly, waiting for their kid to make their presence known.

Bex took a deep breath, allowing the air to escape through her lips as she cuddled further down into bed, resting her head just above her boyfriend’s heart. She loved these moments too, when it was just the two of them. No museum breathing down her neck, no art classes to teach, no security emergencies calling him away from her. Just the two of them, bonding with the baby that was nestled safely within her.

Sometimes, Santiago would talk to the baby when they sat like this. He’d tell stories about his childhood, about their relationship, about the kid’s future aunts and uncles. Sometimes, he would play classical music on his phone and direct the speaker towards her belly. Sometimes, he would talk to her, sharing his thoughts and fears, tell her about the things that he wanted to do with their kid when they were old enough. Most of the time, he would just hold her in silence and wait for the kid to kick or roll inside of her so he could feel it.

“The nursery looks really nice, babe,” she mumbled drowsily, wincing slightly as her skin bulged out against Pope’s palm, the outline of a tiny foot appearing for a brief second.

“That’s all you, sweetheart,” he replied, pressing a gentle kiss to her temple as he soothed his hands up and down her swollen stomach. “The Hundred Acre Woods theme is stunning.”

Originally, Rebecca had wanted a jungle theme for the nursery, but Pope had borderline begged her to do something else, literally anything else, that wouldn’t remind him of crouching in the Colombian jungles next to Tom the day before everything went to shit. So, he hadn’t complained when she announced that she was going to Disney-fy the kid’s room with a mural of the Hundred Acre Woods and all of Christopher Robin’s friends.

“I made it pretty, you made it functional,” she yawned, shifting slightly to lie on her side, her left arm wrapping around his side as she nuzzled into his chest.

Pope snorted. “Yeah, once you convinced Frankie to stop being a prick.”

Under Frankie’s direction, all of the furniture was put together in less than an hour. The solid oak crib, dresser/changing table, shelving unit and rocking chair pulled the room together nicely, and the white bassinet sat in the corner of their bedroom, waiting to be put to use.

Rebecca smiled sleepily. “Not my fault you three didn’t notice that the one dad in the group was sitting around twiddling his thumbs.”

Pope grinned down at her. “We make a pretty good team, huh baby?”

She lifted her droopy eyes to him for a moment and smiled brightly at him. “Forever and always, my love.” She ran a gentle hand over her belly and sighed happily. “You’re stuck with me now.”

It suddenly struck Santiago how badly he wanted that to be true. What wouldn’t he give to wake up next to this beautiful woman every day? To be allowed to love her and spend as much time in her presence as possible? To raise their child together and be a family? To grow old with her by his side?

He ghosted his hand down her side and gently picked up her left hand, running his thumb over the knuckle of her ring finger as she drifted off to sleep.

“Not yet I’m not, mi amor,” he whispered. “But I want to be. If you’ll have me.”

He gently shifted them down the mattress, curling up behind her and resting his hands lovingly on her belly as he settled in to sleep, taking comfort in the knowledge that everyone he loved was safe in his arms that night.

Tags list (open): @darksideofclarke, @writefightandflightclub, @eternallyvenus, @rae-rae-patcha

[perseusjackson-jasongrace]

I see you're on break (congrats)and you want some aus? Perfect What about a single dad finally meets the kindergarten teacher and shenanigans occur or something like that? Remeber tonjoy your break tho and rest up :)

Ah Anon it makes me ever so happy to see you in my inbox! Please never leave my darling. And I hope you're good, and happy, and well. Don't worry I'm definitely resting up these hols (please ignore the fact that I'm posting this at 2am while I tell you I am resting)

So I know I said prompts were probs gonna be jercy but when I read this everything in me just screamed PERCABETH. So that's what I wrote. Side note this had biiigg Everything Has Changed music video vibes.

Anyway I hope you enjoy! Love y'all. And thanks for the prompt! Keep em coming.

Masterlist for more crackships and other stuff

Percy Jackson pulled into the designated pick up zone, his music blasting so hard his seats vibrated. His fingers tapped along to the beat against the steering wheel, head bobbing aimlessly. The time on the dashboard blinked 14:59 and as the song ended the clock struck the hour.

Little kids, dressed in all manor of outfits came pouring out of the school, throwing basketballs and strapping on bike helmets. He watched as a little boy in a lobster costume attempted to mount his bicycle, falling three times before he got frustrated enough to yank the costume down. Percy, and probably every parent in the vicinity, was grateful the little guy had a vest and shorts on underneath.

Another little boy looked on the verge of tears as he handed a broken pair of wings to his mom. She gave him a kiss and a chocolate and the kid beamed so hard the sun got a little jealous. He immediately turned to the little girl next to him and offered her some of his sugary contraband.

Damn Percy loved Halloween.

Speaking of which, where on earth was Estelle? She had been buzzing about the Halloween sleepover all week and now she was going to be late.

He checked the clock to find five minutes had gone by with no sign of his little sister. The front area was beginning to clear as little kids hopped on the school bus or into a parent's car. He gave it one more, impatient minute before getting out and stalking towards the schools entrance. His eyes wide and frantically searching through all the little bobbles and capes and various types of bugs. What was it with little kids and insects? Still there was no sign of a bright green tail or red hair clips.

Percy was starting to panic. He pushed the double doors of the school open, "Estelle? Estelle? Elle? Ellie? Elephant?"

His shouts echoed in the empty hallways but there was no response.

"Princess Ariel? Come on Elle this isn't funny." His voice shook with nerves as he peered into empty classrooms and around abandoned corners.

"Elle if you come out now I'll get you icecream on the way home." Bribing always worked.

"Come one Estelle, please," He could hear the panic in his voice now.

"Can I help you?" A voice from behind him asked.

He whipped around, stumbling as he caught sight of the stranger.

She was, wow. She looked like a princess from one of Estelle fairytales. Golden curls, and bright grey eyes. And a soft, expectant smile.

Expectant.... expactant. Shit. She was waiting for him.

He cleared his throat, "Uh yes hi I'm looking for my little sister. She didn't come out after school and I'm panicking just a little."

"Oh alright," She motioned for him to follow her before disappearing behind a door, "Can you tell me her name and who her teacher is?"

"Sure yea, her name is Estelle Blofis and her teacher is Miss Dare."

"Oh yes they had swim class for the last hour of the day. Come on I'll take you to the pool. Maybe she's still there."

"Thank you so much," He gave her a grateful look, "I'm Percy by the way, Percy Jackson."

"Annabeth Chase," Her tone was open but her answer was blunt.

Percy was confused and a little worried, and wow she was pretty.

"So you been working here long?"

She gave him a weird look and he realized it was probably a stupid question but before he could back track she was shrugging her shoulders.

"About two years."

"Must really love children huh?" He chuckled, "I think I'd go crazy if I had to look after a bunch of six year olds all day."

She looked at him then, grey eyes piercing into his.

"It started out as a backup plan while I waited to get into postgrad and kind of just became a thing."

"Well I'm sure you're great at it."

She laughed softly, pushing open the doors to the pool, "I'm great at everything Mr Jackson."

"Percy!" A small weight crashed into his legs.

"Hello Elle, where have you been?" He crouched down to look his little sister in the eye, "I've been worried sick about you."

"I'm sorry Pers," She gave him that puppydog stare, "We were having so much fun in the pool Miss Dare said we could stay in for a little extra. I didn't think you'd mind since you like to listen to your loud music." Her little button nose scrunched in distaste before she bounded away to change and grab her things.

Percy heard a soft snickering from behind him and stood up to see Annabeth covering her mouth, grey eyes sparkling with amusement.

"Someone's not a fan of your taste."

He scowled at her, "She doesn't count. Her favourite song is" Kiss the Girl" from Ariel."

"That's a great song," The blonde arched a perfect brow.

"Maybe when you're a kindergarten teacher," He teased, "I listen to real music like Led Zeppelin and Bon Jovi."

"Who said that's real music, Seaweed Brain?" She said pointing to his t-shirt that read Marine Biologists: seaweeds with brains.

"Haha," Percy rolled his eyes, "Well what do you consider good music?"

She opened her mouth to respond but Estelle beat her to it.

"Okay Percy I'm ready. Are we gonna get icecream on our way home?"

"What are you gonna give me in return?" They started waking back into the school.

"We can watch any movie you want tomorrow." She declared.

"Any movie?" He narrowed his eyes at her.

"Any movie. Oh except toy story. I don't like watching Andy give all his toys away. And that mean pink bear scares me."

"So we can watch Frozen?" He picked her up to look straight at her.

"Yes!" She giggled, "But you can't sing along to every word. I like Elsa and Anna's voice."

He pouted at her and glared at Annabeth who had been silent until this moment, when she had hurriedly tried to cover up her laugh with a cough.

"Why don't you run to the car, little one," He put Estelle down, "If you can get there in under thirty seconds I'll let you have two scoops of ice-cream."

The little girl didn't so much as blink before she was racing down the hall.

"So Frozen huh?" Annabeth smirked, "Guess that's also considered good music?"

"I'll have you know Elsa and Anna are queens and icons of this generation."

"Personally I think Nani and Lilo are better role models but whatever you say," She grinned at him.

"How about we settle this debate over coffee? Friday next week?"

"I hope you know I was captain of the debate team in college so you're definitely going down."

"All I'm hearing is that you accepted to go on a date with me," It was his turn to smirk.

She laughed as he wiggled his eyebrows. He knew he looked ridiculous but her laugh was buttery and warm and he'd do most anything to keep hearing it.

"It's a date Percy Jackson."

His smile was bright and unrestrained as they waved goodbye.

"See you then Annabeth Chase."

[mournthewicked]

Electic Moves--Montgomery Scott x Reader (ToS/AoS compatible)

This is the LONGEST insert I have ever written holy MOLEY. Here it is at a whopping 5,423 words. I mostly wrote this with ToS!Scotty in mind but I think it also works for both ToS and AoS! I’ll also pop this up on Ao3. Fic is based off my favorite band The Orion Experience and their song Electric Moves

Warnings: Kissing

Electric Moves

“Alright that’s the last of the wires!” you yelled to your superior wiping your safety glasses clean of debris.

“Alrigh’ let me take a look at ‘em,” Montgomery Scott said, crouching next to you. He examined the junctions of the circuit boards and nodded in approval. “Not bad…not bad at all Lieutenant. No bubbles… joints are solid. This soldering is better than some of my own. Must be those steady medical hands.” He winked at you and you put your safety glasses back on to conceal a blush.

“Thank you Mr. Scott,” you replied.

“Lass, I’ve told you already just call me Scotty. Don’t make me order you now,” he joked.

“Sorry. Thank you Scotty,” you put your tools back in the small box and hand it back to the older man. His hand brushed over yours as he takes it from you making your breath hitch.

“No thank you for lending us a hand down here. Doctor McCoy said you were a fast learner but neglected to tell me you were a near genius with mechanics. I ought to have a word with him, keeping a talented lass like you all to him—_______, you alrigh’?”

Scotty must have noticed your face morphing into a deep red from underneath your goggles. You run the back of your hand across your forehead, hoping he’d buy the redness from the heat down in the engineering room.

“Yeah I’m…I’m fine just warm. Goodness how do you live like this down here all the time? It’s hotter than Vulcan!” You exclaimed, earning a chuckle from Scotty.

“Well I s’pose we just get used to it eventually, ain’t that right Kern?” A man slightly younger than Scotty nods in agreement, through you’re pretty sure he didn’t hear what Scotty asked. “Well I think we’re all done down here. Thank you again. It was an absolute pleasure having you down here. I hope we’ll see each other soon.”

He held his hand out to you and you took his surprisingly gentle hand in your own. “Any time, Scotty. It was an honor working on her.”

“Her?” he asked, eyebrows raised.

“It! Her—uh the Enterprise!” You ran your hands over your face. Surely your blush was obvious by now.

Scotty belted out a hearty laugh. “Lass, I thought I was the only one who referred to the ship as a lady, other than the Captain of course.”

“Well—yeah it’s like in those old stories about sea mariners and pirates and even in early space exploration. Their ships were always referred to as female so I just kind of let it slip into my vocabulary. Besides,” you gestured to the warp core. “The Enterprise is like a human being. She has a heart, a circulatory system, a brain…All sorts of anatomy. It’s just made of metal.”

Scotty looked at you full of admiration. “Lieutenant _______ I believe you and I are going to get along quite well.”

You turned to him and smiled. “I sure hope so Scotty.”

The next few days you doubled back and forth as both Assistant Medical Officer and engineer. Though most of your time was spent in med bay assisting Doctor McCoy with patients and testing, you also assisted Scotty with warp core diagnostics and repairing small details on the lower decks. You grew fond of the crew down below becoming friends with Ensigns Kern and Russell but your admiration mostly resided with Scotty. If fact, your admiration was becoming even more: each time you passed him your heart would speed up and you could feel yourself going red. Your stomach flipped and your knees weakened and if your eyes met his, oh stars your words would catch in your throat and you could barely keep yourself from stammering. Eventually, though your heart still raced when he got too close, you managed to get used to his sweet conversations about the starship and his daily life.

Two weeks after the two of you met Captain Kirk announced there would be a week-long shore leave after a recent encounter with Harry Mudd left the Enterprise in disarray and in need of refueling.

“Can’t believe we nearly lost the ship in a bet. Mudd would have had us floating through the galaxy if you hadn’t gotten that gauge recalibrated Mr. Scott,” Bones said as he stepped off the landing pad and onto the Federation sanctioned planet.

“Aye, but I can’t take all the credit Doctor. In fact it was your assistant who wrote the equation. She’s the real star of the show,” Scotty said clapping a hand on your shoulder.

“Well Lieutenant, seems like we owe you a drink or two,” Bones said.

“That’s very kind of you but I plan on curling up with a good book and working on some small projects I’ve been meaning to get done during leave,” you replied.

“Ach lass you have to take a bit of a break. You’ve been working plenty,” Scotty said.

“Thank you Scotty but I’m going to sit this one out.”

“I understand,” he replied. You didn’t catch the sadness in his eyes as you turned to head to your hotel room. “It won’t be the same without you!” He called after you.

You turned around and threw him a dazzling smile. “Enjoy your evening gentlemen!” You responded with a mock bow and disappeared into the crowd.

As soon as you were out of sight Bones turned to Scotty. “You really have it bad for her, don’t you?”

Scotty scoffed at the doctor. “I haven’t the slightest idea what you mean!”

Bones rolled his eyes and retorted, “Oh please. ‘It won’t be the same without you’?”

“Well I simply meant we would miss her.”

“You’ve been looking at her like a lovesick teenager. It’s sickening,” Bones responded. The two of them began to walk to a small diner, serving refreshments from different parts of the galaxy. “One bourbon and a scotch on me.”

“Doctor you aren’t going to get me drunk and have me spill my secrets.” Scotty said as a Betazonian male placed his drink in front of him.

“You don’t need to spill anything it’s written all over your face. You get all goo goo eyed with her. Nurse Chapel noticed it, Uhura noticed it, hell, even Spock has mentioned how you’ve been talking about her nonstop.”

Scotty sighed and took a sip of his scotch. He ran his hand through his chestnut hair for a moment before saying, “I don’t know what to do McCoy. She’s on my mind constantly. Working, off duty, hell even in my dreams. The first day when she came down to work on the circuitry she was so kind and sweet, a wee shy too, but she’s also smart and creative. The way she figured out the equation to save our ship was incredible!”

“Then what seems to be the trouble, Mr. Scott? You aren’t technically her reporting officer so there aren’t any regulations against it.”

“That’s not the problem I just…I don’t want to make her feel uncomfortable. She’s a quiet woman and she hasn’t made any indication that she wants to pursue anything outside of work. I, well, I don’t even know if she considers me a friend,” saying that out loud broke Scotty’s heart and McCoy could see it on his face.

Bones waved the bartender over and ordered another round for his friend. “Listen Scotty, I’m a doctor not a love expert. But I do know my assistant pretty well and she talks about you a lot. She sings your praises. Hell, she’s been spending more time with you than in her own office. The girl likes you she’s just too shy to make the first move.”

Scotty shook his head in doubt and McCoy sighed. “Come on Scotty. Let’s finish up our drinks and we can talk about this some other time. I know Jim was thinking about going to a little hole in the wall club of some sort and I’m going to need someone to help carry his miserable behind back when he out drinks himself.”

Scotty stared into his glass and said, “Aye.”

 ***

Meanwhile you began to unpack your shore leave bag, distracted by Scotty’s words.

‘It won’t be the same without you.’ What could he mean by that? He’s never been out with me before, heck I’ve never been out with anyone on the starship before. Could it be that he had hoped I would come out?

“This is all so confusing!” You yelled to yourself, throwing down a towel. “Stupid feelings.”

You flopped on your bed and stared at the pastel purple ceiling weighing your options. You could continue to pine after Scotty in secret, watching him as he eventually fell in love with someone else and—no that felt awful. You could tell him how you feel, get rejected, and never be able to work in the same room with him—that felt even worse.

You sat on the edge of your bed and sighed. You needed to do something to keep your mind off Scotty. The clock on the computer on your desk flashed 20:00.

“Computer, what is there to do on this planet during the evenings?” You asked. The computer whirred to life, ticking with calculations.

“Sources for entertainment near your current location. There are six bars within walking distance. Two are karaoke bars, three are exotic stripping clubs, and one is a dance club.”

A dance club? You thought excitedly. It’s been so long since I’ve been dancing. “Who’s performing at the dance club? Anyone good?”

The computer whirred again before stating: “Popular intergalactic band The Orion Experience will be performing live throughout your shore leave.”

“Thank you Computer. That is all,” you said and the computer powered down. You sat on the edge of your bed staring at your luggage in front on you. If I’m going to do this, I’m going all out tonight.

You sprung up in excitement and grabbed your bag. “Screw sadness, screw the rules, I’m about to be Cinderella at the ball.”

An hour and a half later you checked yourself out in the mirror. You purchased two dresses, your choice for this evening was a jeweled emerald green dress that stopped mid-thigh and white boots. You even splurged on some makeup and changed your hair. At a glance you could barely recognize yourself.

Shooting a wink at your reflection you strutted out of your room and out the door not even noticing the three Starfleet officers you passed on the street.

***

“Mr. Scott, Bones is right. You need to just come right out and say it. Quick, like a band aid. It will be over in a minute.” Captain Kirk tried to persuade the Scotsman.

“Thank you, Captain, for the sage advice. And thank you Doctor McCoy for telling the Captain about my personal affairs, I greatly appreciate it,” Scotty replied with a glare to the brunette.

McCoy rolled his eyes. “Well I’m sorry but I wasn’t going to let you look like a depressed Sehlat the whole shore leave.”

“I do not look like a depressed Sehlat!” exclaimed Scotty. Bones and Kirk stared at him intensely and he relented. “Gentlemen, I thank you for support. But I’m an old man—much older than __________. And she should be with someone else her age. As beautiful as she is, finding someone else wouldn’t be a problem.” Scotty’s eyes began misty and he blinked back tears.

Kirk clapped a hand on his friends shoulder. “Now Mr. Scott there will be no tears tonight. The night is young and there is a bar just down the streets with all sort of intergalactic alcohol. Let’s forget about our problems even if it’s just for the night.”

But I don’t want to forget about her. Mr. Scott thought to himself, but he knew voicing his opinion would get drowned out by his two friends. “Aye, where are we going lads?”

“Well,” Kirk began rubbing his hands together. “I thought we would check out that bar I was telling Bones about earlier. I’ve heard that they have these dancers that—“

Kirk was cut off as a woman walked past in a short green dress and white boots. The three men stared after her as she sashayed out the door into the crowd.

“Jim…who was that?” McCoy asked staring after her.

“I’m…not sure. I don’t recall ever seeing her before,” Kirk replied.

“She has to be on the Enterprise though. This hotel was booked for us by Starfleet and no other ships are docked so it’s just us,” Scotty said.

“She couldn’t be a Romulan spy could she?” McCoy asks.

“A Romulan, spy or not, would never—could never—have that strut in their step. Especially in those shoes,” Kirk responded.

“Of all things you could comment on you mention her footwear?” Bones joked.

“Of all the things I could comment on her shoes were the most appropriate. Do you have anything to add Doctor McCoy?”

“Not at all, Jim.”

“Good,” Kirk began to follow the woman but was stopped by Scotty.

“You don’t plan on following her do you?” He asked.

“Scotty, the three of us have no idea who she is and we know our crew better than anyone else. Whoever she is, she’s obviously gotten through our security systems and we need to know how. Besides aren’t you two a little curious to see who she is?”

Scotty sighed for what seemed to be the hundredth time that day and he followed his two friends through the street after the mysterious, and yet oddly familiar, stranger.

The bar pulsed with the beat of the band and you were bumping and grinding your way through the crowd. You felt different, alive, on the dance floor. A cheer went through the crowd as you spun through a dance circle. Each move was filled you with energy, you were electrified by the music and you sang out with the rest of the crowd.

“Somebody told me, you got electric moves. Out on the floor you’re like lightening striking,” you sang off key with everyone as the band went into the final chorus. You turned again as the song began to transition to another but froze mid step as you spotted McCoy, Kirk, and Scotty staring in your direction whispering to themselves. You made eye contact with the chief engineer for a brief second, both confusion and recognition evident in his eyes. He slowly got off his chair and began to walk towards you, startling you out of your trance. You turned your back towards him and ran out the door.

***

The three men sat down at bar scoping the dance floor for the mysterious woman.

“You sure she went into this one Jim?” McCoy asked the blond sipping a drink.

“Positive. Keep your eye out for anything suspicious,” Kirk said surveying the dance floor. “Mr. Scott, have you given any more thought to what Bones and I were saying earlier.”

“Now Captain, I told you I don’t want to pursue anything—“ he was cut off by a cheer and applause on the dance floor.

“There Jim! She’s over there,” McCoy exclaimed. The three men stared in her direction, watching as she danced sensually, hands in the air laughing and stomping her foot to the beat.

“She looks familiar. I just can’t put my finger on it,” Kirk said. McCoy and Scotty nodded fixated on the woman. She did one final turn as the song transitioned into a new one but, as she looked in their direction she froze.

“It can’t be…” Bones mumbled.

“Is that…Lieutenant ___________?” Kirk asked still staring at her.

Scotty watched her intently as they maintained eye contact. It was _________ there was no doubt in his mind. Seeing her with such fire in her soul was intimidating, there was no doubt about that. She radiated confidence and seeing her with such energy made Scotty’s heart swell in infatuation. Clenching his fists, Scotty knew he had to take a chance or he was going to have a heart attack. Taking a deep breathe he stood up, knees weak not from the alcohol but from the nerves. He steadied himself and began to approach her gaining confidence with each step. However about ten steps in the woman who held his soul broke eye contact and ran out the door, leaving the shattered pieces of his heart where she last stood.

***

Morning hit you like a Bat’leth; your mouth was dry and every vibrant color of the wall sent a wave of nausea through your body. The headache you had was unsurmountable and you grabbed the hypo you left on the table and injected it. Moments later your headache was gone and your nausea was slightly more manageable.

You revisited the events of last night grinning s the memories came back to you. You looked at the dress that was discarded on top of your suitcase with a fond grin, eagerly thinking about the second number you had waiting for tonight. However your feelings of excitement were smothered as soon as you remembered who saw at the bar watching you. McCoy. Kirk. Scotty.

“Oh my God,” you cried out to yourself putting your head in your hands as you tried to erase that memory from your mind.

They must have thought I looked ridiculous, you thought. I made such a fool of myself. Tears pricked at your eyes and you tried to will them away. Even though you knew none of them would make fun of you—well McCoy might tease you but you could handle him—you knew it would impact how the other two would look at you. If there was a black hole close enough you would jump right into it.

Your stomach growled and decided to get something to eat to keep your mind off of everything. Throwing on your blue Starfleet uniform you walked across the street into a diner. Beings of different races, genders, and ages sat throughout the establishment and were even peppered with Enterprise officers and crew.

Walking to your table you heard the voice of someone you didn’t want to hear: Captain Kirk.

“Lieutenant _________! Come have a seat with us,” he said.

You sighed and though you could have rejected his proposal you also wanted to have a moment to explain yourself—to explain you didn’t always look so uncoordinated and dramatic.

“Good morning Captain, gentlemen,” you nodded to McCoy and Scotty as you sat beside the latter. He didn’t greet you with the usual smile he always had around you. In fact he didn’t greet you at all.

“We were just discussing this woman that we saw dancing last night. It really was something else,” Kirk said.

Oh God here it comes, you thought to yourself.

“She was fantastic, _________, you should have seen her. She had this control over the floor. It was almost supernatural,” McCoy exclaimed. “At first glance we thought she was you,”

You nearly choked on your water. “You thought she was me?” They didn’t realize it was me?

“We certainly did. Then Scotty said you planned on working on some projects during shore leave,” Kirk replied. “How did they turn out?”

“O-oh. Fine. They weren’t anything too difficult,” you replied, relieved.

“And your reading? How was that?” Scotty asked bitterly.

You were taken aback by the harshness in his voice. “It was…fine I guess. Scotty are you—“

“I’m fine Lieutenant __________,” Scotty said. Kirk and McCoy exchanged looks as Scotty got up from the table. “Lads I have some work that I need to catch up on so I’m going to head back to my room. Have a good day.”

The three of you watched as Scotty left the diner without as much as a goodbye to you. You looked down at your plate of food that was just served suddenly nauseous again.

“What the hell was that all about?” McCoy asked in shock.

“I have no idea,” Kirk replied. “But I intend to find out.” He and McCoy followed the Scot out the door leaving you behind, your food hardly touched as tears welled in your eyes.

***

“Scotty! Hey Scotty!” McCoy pounded on the door to the Chief Engineer’s room. “Open up we know you’re in there.”

“Step aside Bones,” Kirk said, punching an override code. The doors slid open to Scotty’s room revealing the Scot seated at his table a bottle of scotch in hand.

“Hello lads, I wonder what brings you here?” Scotty asked sardonically, taking a hearty swig of his drink.

“You know very well what brings us here Scotty. What the hell is your problem? You’ve been in a crappy mood since we got back to the hotel last night and now you’re taking it out on _________?” McCoy asked, arms crossed over his chest. Kirk watched Scotty, slowly putting pieces of the puzzle together.

“I don’t feel like answering that question, Dr. McCoy. Frankly I don’t want to discuss anything with anyone. I wish to be left alone with my scotch,” Scotty said.

Captain Kirk sat at the table to level himself with Scotty. “Scotty,” he said. “Mr. Scott, look at me.”

Scotty sighed and turned to Captain Kirk. Kirk studied him for a brief moment.

“We were right weren’t we Mr. Scott?” Kirk asked softly and put a hand on his friend’s shoulder.

McCoy looked between the two. “Right about what, Jim?”

“The woman at the bar last night. It was Lieutenant __________, wasn’t it?” Jim asked.

Scotty stared at the Captain for a long time before whispering, “Aye.”

The three men waited in silence, waiting for someone to say something. The room was filled with nothing but the ambience of chatter in the halls and the echo of Scotty’s affirmation.

“She ran from me,” Scotty said mournfully.

Kirk nodded.

“Why? Why would she run?” Scotty asked.

“I can’t answer that for you, Scotty,” Kirk said.

Scotty stood up and walked to the window, looking out at the city below. Midday had approached by then, the sun high up in the cyan sky. “I don’t know what I was thinking going up to her. She was having the time of her life dancing and singing. What would she want with an old fool like me?”

“That’s horseshit,” McCoy said, going over to Scotty.

“Bones…” Kirk warned.

“No, Jim I have to say it. Scotty what you’re saying is pure horseshit and you know it. You’re making assumptions and that’s all you’ve done this whole time. Have you even talked to ________ about your feelings yet? I bet you haven’t and I guarantee you have her feeling like complete crap after the way you ignored her this morning.”

Scotty contemplated everything his friend said, knowing he was right. He hasn’t talked to ________ since they docked and not giving her a chance to explain herself wasn’t fair.

“But why would she run from us. From me?” Scotty asked.

“Hell if I know. Maybe she was embarrassed that we saw her, you know how shy she is. And I’m not saying what she did was excusable, but dammit talk to her. Ask her why she ran away and tell her how you feel. Because if you don’t you’re going to lose any chance to have with her, and that will be a damn shame,” McCoy said.

Scotty nodded his head, understanding that everything McCoy was saying was tough love. “Do…do you have anything to add, Captain?”

Captain Kirk waved his hands innocently. “No…no I do believe Bones covered it all.”

Scotty grabbed some glasses from his cabinet and poured drinks for the three of them. “Well then let’s have a drink shall we? And then…well then I’m going to go make a visit to ________’s quarters.”

***

You wrapped your hair in a towel as you stepped out of the shower and threw on some loungewear. Your hangover was completely gone by now but in its place was a heavy heart. You messed up really bad, running away from him last night and then not explaining yourself this morning. You looked at the dress laid out on your bed and sighed, debating whether or not you still wanted to go out when you heard a knock on the door.

“Who is it?” You called out.

“It’s Scotty. May I come in lass?” He asked.

You nearly tripped over yourself running to the door, pressing the button to open the door to let him in.

“Mr. Scott, good evening,” you said hoping the waver in your voice wasn’t as prominent as you thought.

“Back to calling me Mr. Scott are we?” He asked gruffly as he stepped inside.

You winced at his tone. “Sorry…Scotty—“

“I was joking _________,” he said with a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Oh.” The two of you stood in silence trying to figure out what to say next. Moment’s passed, then you two both began at once.

“Lass, I—“

“I’m sorry.”

The two of you looked at each other at the same time before letting out nervous laughs.

“You’re sorry?” Scotty asked in slight confusion.

You nodded. “Yes I…I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have run from you. I didn’t…I didn’t want anyone to see me dancing and I was so embarrassed when I saw you…” You were so overwhelmed with everything your lip began to tremble.

“Now, now ________, don’t you start crying,” Scotty said as he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close to his chest. “You have nothing to be sorry for, this is my fault. I jumped to conclusions.”

You allowed yourself to be held by him for a moment, relished breathing in his scent of scotch and oak, and savored the feeling of his one hand stroking your hair while his other hand rubbed circles on your waist.

After a moment you pulled back to look him in his eyes. “Jumped to conclusions?” You asked.

Scotty took a deep breath and took your hands in his. “Yes I…I may have thought you didn’t want to have a dance with me. Thought that you thought the idea would be repulsive.”

Your hand flew to your mouth. He was going to ask me for a dance?  “I thought you were going to tell me that I looked ridiculous,” you confessed.

Scotty’s eyebrows shot up his forehead. “Now why in heavens would I do that?” He exclaimed.

“I mean…I probably did look ridiculous flailing around like I was,” you said.

Scotty laughed. “You looked nothing of the sort. You…you were incredible! You dance beautifully, hell McCoy and Kirk didn’t even recognize you until I told them today. We thought you were a spy.”

“A spy?” You shout in laughter.

“You have to admit you looked a lot different last night.”

You chuckled and nodded. “I certainly did.”

You two stood in silence for another moment. “Why would you think I wouldn’t dance with you?” You asked.

Scotty sighed, “It was a little foolish of me. I’m so much older than you are—“

“Not by that much,” you cut in.

“But still old enough. I thought you were repulsed by the thought of it. I should have known better,” he said.

“Scotty, I would have very much liked to have danced with you had I not run away,” you said placing a hand on his cheek.

He put his hand over yours, rubbing it slightly. “________ I believe we both are foolish.”

You nodded in agreement your eyes captured in his gaze.

“I—also was going to tell you something last night.” Scotty said hesitantly.

You nodded for him to go on.

“Seeing you dancing there—every time I see you as a matter of fact—I get so overwhelmed in your beauty. That day you first came into engineering you were just a ray of sunshine without saying anything. Then you finished those wires and talked to me and I thought I was going to pass out. You talk about the Enterprise like she was your child and I know you can’t see the way your eyes light up when you talk about her but I do and it can make even Klingons blush. You can imagine what it does to my heart.” Scotty paused to take a breath and you could feel your heart racing.

“_________, I know this might be wishful thinking but I need to tell you that I like you. That I am falling head over heels for you. And I don’t intend on making you feel uncomfortable in any way regardless of how you answer my question. If you want to just be friends and never speak of this again I will. If you want me to leave you alone for the rest of our time on the Enterprise together I will. I just want to ask if maybe you would like to go out with me?”

Your breath hitched head absolutely spinning with every word he said.

“Scotty,” you began. “I would like it very much if you would kiss me.”

A chuckle of relief escaped Scotty as he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you in for a gentle kiss. It was neither long nor short, just enough for the two of you to lose yourselves in each other’s touch of your lips.

You both pulled away, light blushes on your cheeks.

“I would love to go out with you Montgomery Scott,” you told him.

Scotty was so overjoyed that he let out a boisterous laugh and hugged you, lifting you a few inches off the ground.

You laughed, body feeling like it weighed only feathers.

“Would you like to go on a date right now?” You asked boldly. “I was thinking about going to the dance club again.”

“Now how could I pass up dancing with the most beautiful woman in the universe?” Scotty said, pecking your cheek.

You blushed, realizing you would never get used to being showered with complements. “Wait here,” you said. “I’m going to change.”

“You could always change right here.” Scotty joked, laughing as your face turned crimson. “I’m teasing you. Go ahead and get ready.”

You shook your head and grabbed your dress of your bed. “Go ahead and sit down. I’ll be right out.”

Scotty sat down and waited in anticipation. He took in all the details of your hotel room wondering what kind of stuff you kept in your room on the Enterprise. He saw your dress from last night peeking out from your suitcase and he chuckled thinking about the last twenty-four hours. You were his; he was yours even with how ridiculous you both acted.

A few moments later, you poked your head out the door. “Hey Scotty, would you mind zipping me up?” You asked holding the front of your dress up.

Scotty looked at you, mouth open in shock. Your hair and makeup were styled the same way you did yesterday but the dress was different. It was a dark blue glittery dress with three quarter sleeves. The dress was short in the front and long in the back and flared out beautifully. You wore black pumps with it.

“Scotty?” You asked, snapping him out of his trance.

“Sorry lass, you just…you look stunning.” Scotty said as he walked over to you.

You turned and he slowly zipped up your dress his fingers occasionally brushing against your skin, leaving your skin burning where he touched you.

Once zipped, Scotty kissed the nape of your neck making you go weak in your knees. You turned to him and pulled him in for a searing, passionate kiss. His hands pulled you tight, dipping you slightly, and ran them across your back. You ran your hands through his mahogany hair gasping slightly at his desperation. He took that moment to slide his tongue in your mouth increasing the passion of the kiss.

The two of you pulled away after a moment, blushes evident in your faces.

“I do believe you owe me a dance.” Scotty whispered to you.

You smiled and pulled him towards the door. “I certainly do. I believe we have time to finish this later if you want?”

“For you, my love, I have all the time in the world.” Scotty said, squeezing your hand as you led him to the club.

We believe in love, and love saves the day—The Orion Experience

[blissfulalchemist]

“People who are okay don’t act like this” for CatRaf 😘

Thank you for the suggestion Jo! I did not use the last line unfortunately but I hope you enjoy this still.

TW: Mentions of Self Injury

There was an unease as Raf walked up to his house, with no hint of music playing despite it being a dinner party night. Opening the door his ears were met with the wailing of his two month old daughter and Catlina’s mumbling words of comfort as she walked around rocking their baby. His wife was disheveled, hair tossed into a bun, a way too big Marine Corp sweatshirt almost hiding the running shorts, and dark circles more prominent today under her eyes. He knew he should have postponed the dinner tonight the minute Nick asked for some extra help despite Raf being on paternity leave, Cat was a mess. Raf walked up lightly touching his wife’s upper arms as she mumbled more and more, her eyes wide as she looked down to Liz. “Here let me take over,” he whispered, sliding his hands underneath the baby. Cat held onto Liz tighter eyes meeting his, “Honey, let me,” he repeated a little firmer, bringing Liz to him when she released just the slightest. He looked around the room noticing the disarray of attempts to get Liz to stop crying on Cat’s end. 

“I’ve tried everything to get her to stop, Raf,” Cat pleaded, her hands pushing back the loose hair falling in her face, the sleeves of the sweatshirt falling down to the middle of her arms. Raf rocked and lightly patted Liz, eyes looking to the red lines on Cat’s inner arms, “I don’t know what I’m doing wrong. I’m doing something wrong and she’s gonna see and I-.” Her eyes focused on the room around her, pushing up the sleeves to her elbows, “And then here I go leaving the place looking like this,” she moved cleaning up the room quickly focusing on one spot before noticing another and jumping to that one. 

She mumbled to herself, Liz quieting in Raf’s arms as he watched his wife bounce around the living area, “Who’s gonna see, Conejito? You know Wren doesn’t mind the house being a little messy.”

“You do though. And Wren should. Your mom does,” Cat paused looking ahead of her eyes unfocused, “Oh no,” she looked meeting Raf’s eyes, “Your mom is going to think I’m not good enough that I can’t handle this that I’m not good enough that you have to leave me that you have to find someone better find someone more capable than me. Oh no. Raf I’m trying I’m so sorry,” she rambled on, more and more apologies spouted out. 

Liz finally fell back asleep, Raf kissing the top of her head as he made his way to the crib, “Conejito, let’s take a step back for a second.” Cat looked at him confused, eyes fixated on Liz as he set her down gently in the crib, Raf smiling before facing Cat again. He cupped her face, her hands holding onto his wrists, “What happened?”

Cat searched his eyes, “I was getting ready to start cooking and then Liz well she started crying and I did everything to try and comfort her, I had just woken from a nap too, but she wouldn’t stop and so I kept going and going. Then I realized I had to clean still and then you came home and I wanted to have everything done by the time you came home but I couldn’t and I’m sorry.”

“Cat,” he said softly, pressing a kiss to her forehead, “what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she said quickly, eyes going wide again, “Nothing everything’s fine. It’s all okay. Why would you think otherwise? Can’t you see Liz is okay and I’m okay. Just a little out there I did wake up in the middle of a nap.”

He shook his head, hands grabbing onto her hands, “Honey, you’re not okay,” she opened her mouth to protest Raf cutting her off, “I know something is because people who are okay don’t act like this.” He ran a thumb over the cuts scabbing over, “They don’t rely on old habits if they are doing okay. They don’t ramble like you’re doing now, having their brain scattered to all points of the world,” he ran a hand lightly down her jawline, “and you especially don’t worry about perfection when it comes to cleaning,” he gave a small smile Cat’s expression not moving from worry. He let out a sigh when Cat didn’t respond, “I’m gonna call everyone and move the dinner to tomorrow so you can get some sleep.”

“No!” She stepped back shaking her head furiously, “No you can’t do that. Oh no I-. Oh fuck I forgot,” she groaned. Her nails running through her hair, “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

“Cat,” Raf held her hands trying to keep eye contact with Cat as she looked around, “Cat, look at me. Look at me.” The more she moved around the more frustrating it was for him, especially as she kept mumbling and rambling on about things he didn’t have the context for. He frowned, bringing her hands together, palm to palm. He took a second bringing his hands away before slamming them against hers, his hands stinging watching Cat wince. “Now listen to me, Conejito,” he tilted her chin up to look him in the eye, the far away look gone, “I know you’ve been looking forward to this night but you’re not well. I refuse to bring people over until we figure out what’s wrong.”

“I’m a new mom that’s feeling a little stressed,” she justified, the slight look she gave to her phone noticeable to Raf. 

“That’s not everything,” he glanced at her phone brow furrowed, “Tell me exactly what happened, Cat. I need to know or I can’t help you.”

Cat hesitated thoughts running a million miles an hour trying to put together everything that was happening, happened, going to happen. She let out a slow breath, “My mom called me.” Raf blinked, “I didn’t answer her, I’m not just gonna just pick up the phone for her, and I was sleeping a little anyway, so I couldn’t hear the phone anyway and-.”

Raf snapped his fingers in front of her face, “Focus, Conejito. Your mom called and you didn’t pick up.”

“Right,” she shook her head, “She left a voicemail saying she was wanting to see Liz. So she made a trip to come out here. Didn’t leave much room for arguing. I haven’t even spoken to her in….How long has it been again? Not that it matters but still it seems-.”

“Cat,” she looked at him, mouth shutting quickly, “when is your mom coming here?”

“Oh. Today.”

His eyes went wide, “Today,” Cat nodded, moving from his hands back to cleaning. “What do you mean today?”

“She called me saying she was driving up and that she was in Bozeman,” she stood up, tilting her head, “I think. I may have gotten it wrong. I don’t know, her voicemail is still on the phone.” 

“I assume you didn’t know about this,” he ran a hand down his face, picking up her phone looking at the time the voicemail came in, “So she’s about two hours away now?”

“Maybe closer,” Cat muttered, “She can be a crazy driver, especially with open roads like these.” Cat perked up, “Oh, you think maybe we can get Wes to arrest her and deport her back to Colorado?”

“That,” Raf shook his head pinching the bridge of his nose, “That’s not how that works. Besides he’s also on paternity leave too.”

“Oh yeah,” Cat looked down sadly to the task she was currently focusing on, it was no wonder she couldn’t get Liz to sleep, she was wound up tighter than she had been in recent weeks. “I know you don’t want anyone over but maybe we do smaller and have just Wes ‘n Wren over, maybe Bambi?” He was about to interject in her thoughts, Cat filling in the gap in her plans, “No, wait, she’s in Bozeman now. Why did they have to go there? I need them here. But okay but B Squared can still come by right?” She looked at Raf with pleading eyes, “Please? I feel like I can’t remember the last time I’ve seen either of them.” 

We saw Wes just last week, Raf wanted to remind her, “Cat if your mom is going to be here, do you really think it’s a good idea to have her and Wren in the same room?”

“You’re right,” Raf held his breath waiting for the second half of the sentence, “It’s the perfect idea.” Cat dropped the plastic shopping bag full of trash, gasping, “Raf! We have a dinner party tonight! I didn’t plan on her being there!”

She started her mumbling and tangents, Raf grabbing hold of her shoulders, “No we’re not having a dinner party tonight. You are going upstairs to sleep.”

“But Liz,” Cat protested trying to turn back to the living room, “what if she wakes up and needs me? I need to be there. I’m fine. I have enough sleep.”

“When was the last time you got at least three hours of sleep?” Cat opened and closed her mouth, wanting to have an answer and then thinking better of it. “Exactly,” Raf pushed her towards the stairs, “Now you go upstairs and sleep. I've got Liz taken care of and the house.”

“But Raf I need to keep an eye on Liz. How can I sleep when she’s all the way downstairs? At least let me sleep on the couch, Raf.”

He shook his head, “No. You’re gonna sleep in bed. I’ll leave the new video monitor and radio monitor on the bedside table so you can wake up and see that she’s okay.” Cat nodded along, twisting the tips of her fingers. “I’ll wake you just before she gets here okay,” Raf assured her. 

Cat spun to face him, “No. Last time you did that you lied to me. I can’t have you doing that again. If I’m seen as sleeping when she comes by she can use that against me. She could have Liz taken from me. Say I’m a bad mom, use your career against you, she could have Liz and make her be whoever she wants her to be.”

“Mi amor, please, you have to know how irrational that sounds,” Raf opened the door to their room, “That is not why your mom just decided to come by. The most likely answer is that she wants to see her granddaughter.”

“I don’t want her too, Raf,” Cat’s eyelids started to feel heavy as he sat her on the bed, “Liz doesn’t deserve someone like that in her life. She deserves to feel loved and accepted by everyone in her life. If she wasn’t in the picture then I’d humor the idea, but not Liz, I can’t risk Liz like this.”

“I know,” Raf said softly, placing the blankets and comforter over her, “Which is why we’ll figure out the next step once you get a little more sleep. Does that sound fair?” Cat nodded, eyes following his hands as he set up the monitors, Liz clear as day on the video sleeping soundly. Raf kissed her forehead, “You get some sleep, Conejito. I’ll check on you in a little bit.” Raf left the room after that, making his way back down to Liz smiling as he met her dark eyes, “Hey,” he whispered, grabbing one of the speakers placing it near the radio monitor, “Why don’t you and I keep mom asleep playing some Monteverdi, yeah?” She cooed, smiling and moving her hands up towards him as the music started, “Is he your favorite too, huh?” Raf slipped the carrier on, lifting Liz into it, “Come on, let’s you and I make some phone calls. Get your mom feeling better,” Liz reached, getting her small fingers caught in his hair in response, “You’re right, mija, let’s call grandma and grandpa first.”

 Cat opened her eyes slowly, the vibrating on the nightstand hitting her ears, as she reached blindly for it, the phone falling to the floor. Cat sat up, rubbing her eyes free of the sleep, heart racing, eyes going to the monitor on her right, seeing Raf on the couch with Liz. Cat took a deep breath putting everything before she slept together. She wanted to sleep more but the thought that her mom was already somewhere in the house, seeing as it was now six in the evening. Cat pulled back the sleeves of the sweatshirt looking to the uniformed cuts, tears welling up in her eyes. It had been years since she last did anything like this, now here she was back at square one, some mother she was.

Cat’s phone rang again, she wiped away the tears as she reached for it, the caller ID showing it was Wren. Cat let out a shaky breath before answering, “Hey Wren.”

“Finally! I was worried about you,” Wren sounded relieved, as if she had been holding her breath, “What happened? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah I’m okay,” Cat responded, bringing her knees up to her chest, “Just a bit tired is all.” 

“That’s what Raf said but,” Wren paused, “Pairing that with how you looked when Wes saw you last week, I can’t help but feel like there’s something more.” Cat stayed silent, “Cat,” Wren pressed, “You know you can tell me anything. I just want to help you like you’d help me. It’s what sisters do, remember?”

She rested her chin on her knees, “I know. I just-,” Just lost my mind, fell back on old habits because I help but feel like everything is wrong. Something is going to go wrong. Oh and on top of that my mom somehow got our address and is now here at our house and I know she’s going to do something to screw up our lives, “I was doing okay but my….mom….she’s here.”

The line went quiet a moment, “She’s what now?” Cat nodded as Wren continued, “No. Nope. I’m going over there right now!” Cat could hear the sounds of Wren getting up to move on the other end, “It’s been what a year, year and a half since you last spoke to her and now all of a sudden she just wants back into your life? No way am I going to let that woman worm her way back into it.” Wren grumbled lowly, whatever she was saying was lost on Cat’s ears, “Wes! Where are the keys?” 

“Wren,” Cat said softly, laughing as Wren argued with Wes that she needed the keys, “Wren stop.” The moving stopped, Wren’s breathing the only thing Cat could hear, “Thank you for your offer, but that’s not the best idea right now. I-,” I don’t want her to get to you, have her make you hate me, “I don’t know what I’m going to do yet.”

“I can take care of her for you Cat,” Cat let out a small laugh, “You think I’m joking but I’m with a cop, he can help me get away with it.”

“I know,” Cat let out a sigh, “Let me just figure it out with Raf first and if you are needed I will call you okay?”

“Fine,” Wren conceded, “Just-. Cat just remember you don’t have to entertain her. You have every right to just tell her to fuck off again. And if you can’t do it then I can do it for you. I’m here for you, no matter what.”

“Thank you Wren. Best case is she’s only staying for a short while and then I don’t ever have to see her again,” Cat sighed, “Until then we’re going to postpone any get together we may have wanted to have.” 

“Well I’m not going anywhere so that’s okay,” Wren assured, “But call me and keep me in the loop alright?” 

“I will.” Cat hung up after that, hands shaking, stomach feeling sick. Her mom was possibly downstairs and Cat was nothing short of a disaster, but she had to make sure Raf didn’t fall to her influence. Her legs shook, Cat gripping onto the railing as she made her way down to the living room, music of the baroque era still playing. Her eyes finally landed on Raf, who was just finishing feeding their daughter and humming, looking around for any sign on her mother lurking in the house.

“She’s not here,” Raf said, looking up at Cat, “She’s with my parents.”

Cat’s eyes went wide, “She is,” her pitch going up an octave, “Why? That’s a bad idea Raf,” She could make your parents hate me. It might be too late.

He shook his head, “We needed to talk first,” he moved over on the couch, rearranging Liz in his arms, patting her back, “Sit.” Cat bit her lip as she moved to sit next to him, pushing back a few strands of hair, “We’re going to have dinner with your mom, my parents are going to be there to help us through it. You can decide how far you want to go with it. If it’s too much we can stop it early.” Cat nodded, it seemed fair enough, “Do you want her staying here if you think you can handle it?”

Cat shook her head, “No not really but where else is she going to go? I doubt she has money for an inn or something like that,” Cat ran the numbers in her head, there was no way she was wanting to indulge in paying for her mother to stay there either, “I know for a fact that I don’t want her staying with your parents.”

Raf nodded, “They offered to help in paying for her lodging already, figured you wouldn’t want your mom anywhere near them to begin with.”

She looked to the ground, “I don’t want to put that on them though, they’ve done enough for me as it is.”

Raf chuckled, shaking his head, handing a sleeping Liz to Cat, “They offered before I could say anything.” He ran a thumb over her cheek gently, “They love you and they know how complicated it can get with your mom. They want to make sure that you’re taken care of, Conejito.” Cat shifted, kissing Liz on the top of her head, her mind and body calming with her in her arms, “I know it feels weird for you still but you just have to trust it when they say they love and care about you.” 

“Don’t get your hopes up with my mom finding a way to twist everything around,” she shook her head slowly, “I should probably call my therapist, shouldn’t I?”

“I already did,” Cat looked to Raf taken aback, “I called your doctor too.”

“Why?” Her heart started to race, holding Liz tighter to her, “That wasn’t necessary Raf. You can’t just do that.”

“It is though,” he looked to her with sympathy, “I know you want to reduce any risk of harm to Liz and have the same experiences as other moms, but, Cat you can’t be like other moms,” she felt the tears start to run down her face, Raf wiping them away, “and there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that. I know you thought that you could do this, but even the doctor said it was possible for things to change once you had Liz and they have.” 

Cat shook her head, “No, I can do this. I have to be able to do this. Wren worries too and no one is telling her that she’s being irrational.”

“It’s not normal, Cat. We all know where Wren’s worry stems from and she’s getting help in the way that she needs best and that’s not what you need,” Raf reasoned, “You need more help. You need to get back on the medication you had before we had Liz, it was the best thing for you.”

 “How do you know that?”

“Because you weren’t having to resort to cutting to try and sleep.”

“It’s just this one time,” she lied, “It won’t happen again.”

“One time is too much,” Raf put his arms around her, kissing her temple, “I’d rather you get ahead of this now before we have to go to more extreme measures. We have so many resources to make it easier on you so that you can be the best mom that I know you can be.” He helped to cradle Liz, “I know you want that for her more than anything.” Cat nodded, burying her tear stained face into Raf’s shoulder, “Then we go to the doctor tomorrow so that we can help you get to that place.” Cat couldn’t help but start crying the tears coming so easily, Raf holding her closer rocking the two of them, “Shh, it’s okay. I’m here,” he kissed the top of her head, “I’ll always be there for you, always here for you.” 

The two of them sat for another fifteen minutes, before Cat caught sight of the clock, sniffling she asked, “What time is dinner at?”

Raf looked up to the clock, exhaling through his nose, “Soon,” he took LIz placing her in the crib, “You need to get ready. I already have the food taken care of.” Cat nodded, quickly making her way up the stairs to get showered and dressed, trying to get her nerves to calm down the entire time. Raf’s parents and Cat’s mom were just walking through the door by the time Cat came down in a sweater and some jeans. 

Cat walked to Raf’s parents first embracing them in a hug first before she dared to look at her mom. “Catlina,” she held her arms out to her daughter, “It’s been a long time.”

“A year and a half,” Cat said, giving her mom a side hug, skin crawling, “and here you go surprising me.”

“Seemed more rude that you not tell me that my grandbaby was born,” she gave Cat a smile, “Where is she? Rafael pushed me onto his parents so quickly that, well, I just didn’t have time to see them.”

“Gina,” Raf said, stepping in front of the crib, “can I get you something to drink first before dinner?”

“No need to address me like that Rafael, I’ve told you before that you can call me mom,” Cat narrowed her eyes, biting her tongue.

“Gina, please, let’s get through dinner first,” Raf gestured to the table.

“Everything’s so formal with you,” Gina laughed, patting Raf’s shoulder as if it was a normal affair for the two of them.

Raf’s mom put an arm around Cat’s shoulders, whispering in her ear, “Lina, does she always try to put on a show?” Cat nodded, glancing in the crib, Liz still sleeping peacefully.

“Do we have to listen to this, Cat honey,” Gina looked at her, “It just sounds so depressing.”

“I quite like it,” Cat gave her a smile.

“You never liked opera before,” Gina gave a shrug, “that’s all. Bet that’s all Rafael let’s you listen to,” she laughed to herself, Cat hugging herself.

Raf shot Gina a glare behind her back, a thin smile returning as she turned to watch him place a roast on the table, “It helps Liz sleep more peacefully, but more than that dinner is ready.” 

Everyone took a seat at the smaller round table, plates made before a quick prayer was said. “Did you finally commit to a religion, Catlina,” Gina commented while the two women finished making the sign of the cross, “Went back to your roots. Surely it helped you out my dear,” she took a bite of her food, Cat pushing hers around, “I always said all you needed was a little faith. Guess I can thank you for having her find it, Rafael.” 

“Cat never committed to a religion, Gina,” Raf’s mom interjected, “she has her views and we respect that much like she respects ours.”

“You didn’t have to live with her and how,” Gina paused, searching for the right word, “well, over dramatic she could be.”

“Is that how you still refer to my depression and anxiety still?” Cat asked, jaw clenching.

Gina gave a small eye roll, “You know all that stuff is just made up in your head. Doctors use it to sell more medication to those that have no faith or something to fall back on.” Cat scoffed, her mom looking at her in full, “You don’t seem like yourself tonight, honey,” she observed, eyes landing on the few cuts peeking out from under the sleeve of her sweater. Gina took a sip of her drink, “Seems like you’ve gotten to that state again. You know I warned you that being a mom was hard, even offered my help that you rejected.”

“How did you even get my address mom? It’s not like we’ve spoken very recently.”

“Your sisters,” Gina mused, “They asked if I wanted to send something to you for the baby and I stumbled across it.”

“So you stole it,” Cat sighed, “Typical.”

“I’m your mother,” Gina said, her eyes narrowing as they looked at Cat, “I have a right to see my grandchild. I don’t think you understand how much it hurt me to not be a part of your pregnancy, while everyone else got to be.”

“That was her decision to make,” Raf’s father said, his mom nodding, “By my understanding you hurt her first.”

“You wouldn’t be saying that if your son did that to you. Or are you just trying to keep me from having a relationship with my child?” Gina turned to Cat, placing her hand over hers, “Catlina what happened? We used to be so close, we were fixing our relationship and then you just cut me off again.” 

Cat removed her hand, “I think it best you see Liz once and then wait for me to make contact again.”

“Catlina, that’s unfair. Don’t give into what he wants just because he’s your husband. I just want to help you, like a mom should be doing.”

Cat’s hands balled into fists, “Are you going to apologize?”

“For what?”

“You know what. Apologize for hurting me.”

“I think you owe me one at this point,” Gina’s voice going cold, “You’ve hurt me more at this point than however much you claim I’ve harmed you.”

“You don’t get to decide when you hurt me,” Cat shook her head, “All you had to do was be there for me but since you didn’t do that, all you had to do was apologize and we could have worked to repair our relationship.”

“I did nothing wrong. When will you accept that?”

“You did though, Gina,” Raf said, “and you’re continuing to do so by trying to make your way back into Cat’s life after she told you to stay out of it. I won’t stand for the breach in boundaries that you’ve just done by showing up out of the blue.”

“Then why invite me into your home, Rafael,” Gina asked, venom on her tongue, “Seems counterproductive.”

“I knew Cat would give you some benefit of doubt and as she told you earlier you get to have this one opportunity to see Liz, which is more than generous in my eyes.” Cat watched Gina’s hands as Raf continued, “I won’t stand for my own children to be hurt and disappointed by someone that has been in and out of their mom’s life to a point where they no longer feel cared and loved by them. Cat and her children deserve to have people that are stable and love them unconditionally in their lives, so sad to say there’s no room for people like you in their lives anymore.”

Gina turned back to Cat, “So you’re just going to hurt your sisters the rest of their lives?” Cat stiffened, “I don’t think you see or understand how much it hurts them that we all can’t be in the same room anymore because of you. Or when we’re at family events, how you avoid them because they choose to accept me as I am.”

“Everyone here knows how much of a lie that is, Gina,” Cat saw Gina’s hands turn into fists as she looked to Raf with daggers, “Stop trying to keep up some facade, no one here believes it.”

“Shut your damn controlling mouth,” Gina stood hand raised, Cat following her, grabbing onto her wrist, Gina’s eyes going wide. “You’re just going to let him speak to me like that? After everything I’ve done for you?”

“You need to leave,” Cat said calmly, pulling her mom to the door, “I don’t care where you go or where you stay, but you’re no longer welcome here.” Cat grabbed the bag, shoving it in Gina’s arms, opening up the door, “You take one step onto our house ever again, I will have you arrested for trespassing. Better yet I better not see you in this county ever again. The only times I should be seeing you is when there’s family events where it's inevitable and even then you’re not allowed to speak to me, Raf, or my children. You want to know anything about your grandkids you better ask my sisters because that’s all the information you’re going to get about them.” Cat gave her a small shove out the door, “Liz and any other kids we have will never have contact with you, so don’t even bother with things like cards for birthdays and holidays.”

“Cat, please,” Gina pleaded with her, “Don’t do this. Please you need me, trust me on that.”

Cat shook her head, “I think you have it wrong. You’re the one that needs someone to control and it’s no longer going to be me. Since it seems like I wasn’t clear enough last time I leave you with this: I no longer want you in my life, I do not want to ever hear from you again. I want you gone and I want you to stay gone.” With that Cat slammed the door on her now crying mother, her heart pulling to comfort her, choosing instead to stalk off to her phone, dialing one of the people she knew would help her with this. He picked up on the first ring, “Wes.”

“Catnip,” he responded, “Things get worse?”

“I wasn’t clear enough last time,” Cat said, starting to slowly pace around the living area, “So can you let the police department know that Gina Rojas is not allowed anywhere near my house, and should be highly encouraged to go back home to Colorado. It would be really helpful.”

Wes snickered, “You got it. Should I put Wren on the manhunt?”

“No, that won’t be necessary at this time,” Cat exhaled slowly, “Thank you Wes.” Cat turned to the Estrada family, “I made the right decision didn’t I?” 

“Do you feel like it was the right one,” Raf’s mom said softly, moving to hold Cat’s face in her hands, “Because that’s what’s most important when it’s all said and done, my dear.”

“I want to say yes,” Cat looked down, “If not for me than those that I love.”

“That’s okay for you to not know if it’s right for you,” she told Cat smoothing her daughter’s hair, “You have Liz to think about now and if it feels like the right decision for her, then it’s the right decision, Lina.”

“And Raf,” Cat said, catching his eyes, “It’s the right decision for him too.”

“One day,” Raf said, “it may feel like the right decision, until then,” he took his mom’s place, holding onto Cat’s hands, looking into her brown eyes, “I’ll be right here supporting you.” He kissed her, leaning his forehead against hers, “Though you should know that I will also still do anything I can to protect you, because sometimes you need that from me.”

Cat gave a small smile, “I’d expect nothing less from you, mi vida.”

[chickensarentcheap]

Sanctuary - Chapter 48

Warnings: angst

Tags: @alievans007​, @c-a-v-a-l-r-y​, @thunderintheshadows​, @innerpaperexpertcloud​, @valkyrie-of-the-light​

An incessant knock at the door rouses her from her sleep, and she groans in protests as she rolls over onto her back and stares up at the cove ceiling. She's unsure of how much time has passed since Tyler left to attend to the drama with McMann, but the sun has changed positions and is now at full force as it streams through the window and onto the bed.  She presses the heels of her palms on her eyes in an attempt to both clear the sleep out of them and rid her brain of some of the lingering fogginess. Hoping that if she stays as motionless and as silent as possible, whoever is trying to contact her will just go away.  She's exhausted;  a fatigue that she's come to recognize as a late first trimester side effect. With each of her pregnancies it had set in at the same; somewhere between the middle and the end of the second month.  She does the math in her head; figuring out the exact dates that conception was the most possible. He'd just gotten back from El Salvador; a simple (for once) in and out assassination of a known human trafficker.  Sarge had picked the kids for a rare weekend at his and grandma's house, and he'd given her a wink as he'd teased her about being able to spend 'noisy adult time' with her frequently absent husband.   Which they'd managed plenty of; wild and uninhibited, intense and passionate, often rough. And it was the first time in a long  time she had actually been make the noises that she'd gotten so used to hiding behind her hand or a pillow.    

Condoms had become their go to for protection after Declan had been conceived when she was on the pill. And seeing as neither of them at the time had been one hundred sold on whether to have more children, that ruled out getting her tubes or a vasectomy for him, so something had to be used.  So she thought they'd been careful.

Apparently not careful enough.

She places both hands on her stomach; still flat for now (aside from the baby weight she hasn't managed to lose since having Declan), but if her intuition, calculations, and pregnancy history were correct, she'd be just beginning to show around the beginning of the fifth month.  It wouldn't be much; just a little bump that would be visible underneath tight fitting clothes.  But it would seem much more real than it did right now; when all she had to show for growing a life inside of her was fatigue and horrible all day sickness. ��It was something she always marvelled at; the changes in her body as the weeks and months progressed, the way her hips and her breasts would fill out, the way her hair would become thicker and more vibrant, the way her skin seemed to glow. And it was always magical, no matter how many times she carried a life inside of her, to feel that little person moving around. The kicking and the squirming, the way -in the last trimester- you could sometimes see the entire outline of a hand or a foot when room was starting to run out and they had no more vacant space to move into.  And above everything, she couldn't get enough of the way her husband 'softened' over the last three months; the way that big strong man would lie in bed at night with those calloused and battered hands resting on her belly, the most gentle smile curving his lips and the utmost excitement in his eyes every time the baby kicked or seemed to respond to his voice.

And she smiles as she thinks of those times past and those moments still to come.  When they'd be in the comfort and security of their own home, back under the same roof as their children, finally able to relax and enjoy the new life that they'd be bringing into this world. Things would be different this time; he'd be around for the majority of the pregnancy, able to attend more appointments and ultrasounds, no going out of the country for extended periods of time, no worry every time the phone rang that he'd run off and put himself in danger.  

The knocking has ceased, and she once again closes her eyes, hands still on her stomach, attempting to fall back asleep once more. Sleep gave her the opportunity not to worry about him. The only time where she isn't stressed out and her mind is imagining all the worst case scenarios.  And she feels as if she's just on the brink of sleep when she hears the faint scratching of a key card being slid through the security slot, followed by the click as the system unlocks the door. She quickly jumps off the bed, feeling temporarily dizzy as she scurries through the door; she'd put the chain lock and the deadbolt in place, exactly as he'd instructed her to do if he ever left her alone.

“Wait...wait...” she implores, and hurriedly draws back the chain and snaps open the bolt. “...usually you call when you're on your back so I know to unlock everything, why...”

She stops mid sentence when she comes face to face with Nik.  The other woman's lips set in a grim line, dark eyes troubled, And immediately thinks the worst. All those times she's spent imaging that knock on the door; how Nik would be standing there with that exact same expression, preparing to give her devastating news.

“What happened?” she can't help the panic that settles into her voice. “Please tell me he's okay. Please tell me he's not...”

“Tyler's fine,” Nik assures her, yet her expression doesn't change. “I'm here to talk to you.”

“About?”

“About Tyler.”

Esme frowns. “Look, if you're here to tell me you've been fucking him and he's leaving me for you, I'll kill both of you. Just saying.”

“He would never do anything like that to you and you know. Can I come in? This is a conversation we need to have behind closed doors. This isn't something you want your neighbours hearing.”

She senses the dire importance in the other woman's voice, and then steps back and holds the door open, motioning for her to step into the room.  Closing the door, she resets the chain and the deadbolt. Just in case.

“I heard the good news,” Nik says, as she surveys the room, hands on her slender hips, expression still cold and unnerving. “About the baby.”

“You talked to Tyler?”

“A little while ago.  I ran into him. Where they're holding Michael McMann.”

“Yeah, he left a while ago.  I guess Mark and his guys were having some issues with McMann and Tyler's the one that puts the  most fear into him. Why were you there? Just checking up on things?”

“I guess you could say that.”

“Nik, what's going on? You seem...I don't know...pissed.”

“I'm just a little upset,” she admits. “About this whole situation. With McMann.”

“I know it's taking a long time. Especially to find out where the kids are. But we've been doing everything we can. We've been  running intel around the clock and Yaz has tech in every possible place he can think of. And Tyler can't do much until he actually knows where the kids are, so...”

“Did you know?” Nik interrupts.

“Know what?”

“About McMann. About where he is.”

“I know that Mark and his guys are holding him somewhere until the IRA makes up their mind. I know that they've been trying to get information out of him; about where his kids are.”

Nik's eyes narrow. “That's all you know?”

“”What more is there to know? That's all I've been told.”

“And who told you? About what was happening with McMann?”

“Tyler did. Why? Shouldn't have he? Was he supposed to keep a secret?  Look, if you're pissed at him for telling me, he's been having a hard time...mentally...since McMann told him what he would have done to me had his people caught me. He's been having real low moments and he's just not himself, Nik. He's obsessing over things and he misses the kids and he hasn't been taking his meds and....”

“Esme....” she begins, choosing her words carefully. “...what am I about to tell you? I'm not doing this to upset you. Or hurt you.  And the last thing I want to do is cause problems for you or that baby. Because you're my friend and I love you and...”

“I love you, too. I know we have our problems, but...”

“....I need to stay as calm as you can. Can you do that for me?”

“You can't expect me to be calm when you have that tone in your voice or that look in your eyes. What's going on? He is cheating on me, isn't he. That fucking bastard.”

“No. It's not that. Believe me when I say that Tyler would never, ever do that to you. And he's had the opportunities.”

“Thanks to you,” her tone is accusatory.

“And I'm sorry for that. I really am.  For ever crossing those boundaries. But this something you need to hear. Something that is far worse than the thought of him cheating on you, believe me.”

“Okay...” she crosses her arms over her chest. “....what the hell has he done?”

“You honestly do not know anything else about McMann and what's been happening to him?”

She shakes her head. “Just what I told you. I don't have a reason to know.”

“Actually, you do.  Tyler hasn't been telling you the truth. About the McMann thing. About what really happened. About where he's being kept. And what's going on while he's being kept there.”

“Nik, what the hell are you talking about? What would Tyler have to lie about? So what if the Marines are holding this guy and maybe roughing him up now and then. He's a sick and twisted fuck nut that deserves a good beat down. You  know what he said about me? What he would have done to me? How he would have made Tyler watch? That is sick shit. And he deserves to have his ass handed to him.”

“This goes way beyond someone having their 'ass handed to them'.  I want you to look at something...” Nik pulls her phone out of the front pocket of her pants, tapping on the icon for her photo gallery and then scrolling through pictures before holding the phone out to Esme. “...just keep flipping through them.”

Sighing, Esme holds the phone in the palm of her hand; a frown spreading across her face at the first image. Of a man restrained in a folding metal chair; a heavy chain around his torso keeping him in place, hands restrained behind his back, ankles bound, a hood over his head.

“That's Michael McMann,” Nik explains. “He's being held in a storage locker on the outskirts of town. In an industrial area. Do you know how he got there?”

“I know Tyler went to meet him and there was a plan arranged for Mark and his buddies to help grab him and that they were going to take him somewhere to hold him. I had no idea where.”

“He was drugged. Do you know who drugged him?

“How would I know? I wasn't even there. I just told you that I...”

“Tyler did. Tyler drugged him. And he could have killed him with how much he gave him.”

Her frown grows. “Where would Tyler get drugs from? He doesn't do drugs. He won't even take medication that's prescribed to him.”

“Billy Flynn gave them to him. That's where he met McMann. At Flynn's bar. Did you know that?”

She shakes her head.

“See this?”  Nik uses her index finger to switch pictures. “That's Michael Flynn's throat. See how bruised it is? Someone just about snapped his windpipe.  See the fingerprints on the side of his neck? That's when someone was choking him to restrain him.  And this...” she brings up the next picture. “...is the inside of McMann's mouth. Someone pulled three of his molars out. With pliers.”

“Why are you showing me these?”  Esme pushes the phone back into her friend's hands. “What does this have to with me?”

“It was Tyler. Tyler did these things.”

“What?” she can't help but laugh at the absurdness of it.  “You're kidding, right? Tyler? My Tyler? He did all that?”

Nik nods.

“You're telling that my husband drugged someone, kidnapped them, and is holding them hostage...in order to torture them...in a storage locker?”  

“That's exactly what I'm telling you.”

“Do you realize how ridiculous that sounds? This has to be some kind of joke. Did Mark put you up to this? Because this is something Mark would do. This is the kind of sick shit he'd get off on. And I wouldn't put it past him to blame it on Tyler.  There is no way my husband would do this. This is not who he is. He doesn't torture and maim people. He kills them;when he has to.  But he doesn't do this,” she gestures towards the phone. “You know him, Nik. You've known him for even longer than I have. And you know that is not Tyler.”

“Esme, I would not come here and burden you with this. Especially now. Especially when there's a baby inside of you and I know you've had problems in the past with the others. But he won't listen to anyone. We've tried to talk him out of this. Mark, Yaz, myself. We've all tried.  And he won't listen. He won't budge. Regardless of what McMann did, this...” Nik holds aloft her phone. “....this is not right. This should not be happening.”

“There's no way he would do all that,” Esme argues.  “Not Tyler. He kills because he has to. Because it's either him or them. He doesn't do shit like this. That's not who he is and you know that.”

“You just said he's been having some issues. Mental ones.”

“Yeah, with his PTSD and not taking his meds. But he doesn't go Reservoir Dogs on someone because he's off his meds. He gets moody and depressed but he's more liable to kill himself than someone else. This he would not do. I know him, Nik. I know what he's like. Whether it's when he's at the highest of his highs or the lowest of his lows. And I know he would not do this.  So I don't know who told you all of this; that he's doing this. But it's not him.”

“He told me, Esme. Tyler told me. After I heard it from Mark. It's why I came here.  To confront Tyler. To try and talk some sense into him. He's not in his right mind. If he was, there's no way he would do this.  You're my last resort. I wouldn't have to come to you and put this on you if I had another way of handling this.”

She doesn't know how she feels.  Shocked? Numb? Disgusted even? None of it makes sense. None of it seems real. Even with the proof right there in those photographs.  And she feels nauseous; the distinct burn of bile as it rises in her throat.  “He would not do this,” she says, even though her gut knows it's true. That Nik would not do this to her; purposely make up something so outrageous just to hurt her.  “Tyler would not do this.”

“He would. And he is. Are you okay? Do you need to sit down?”

“I don't know....” she admits, and lays a hand on her stomach.  “....I don't know what I need to do.”

“Sit down,” Nik takes her by the arm and guides her towards the bed, still holding onto her as she lowers herself down onto the edge. “I'll get you some water. Just try and stay calm, okay?”

Esme nods, then grabs the phone out of Nik's hand before she can depart. Tears clouding her vision as she returns to the photo gallery and sends each of those disturbing, nauseating photos to her own cell phone.

“Do you want to go for a walk?” Nik asks, as she returns with a glass of water from the bathroom. “Maybe some fresh air will do you some good. I know it's hard being cooped up like this and you've been under a lot of stress. It will be good for you to get out. Get some exercise. Some sunshine,” she attempts a reassuring smile, and rubs her friend's arm comfortingly. “I know how hard this is. To hear this. To see those pictures.”

“I can't believe he would do this,” Esme's hands shake as she lifts the water to her lips, and Nik puts a supportive hand under the bottom of the glass.  “This is not Tyler. He doesn't do things like this, Nik.”

“Not normally, no. But he has been under a lot of stress. A lot of tension. Worry. And now you're having a baby and he has that on his plate too....”

“Don't bring the baby into this. If anything, that's something he should be happy about.”

“He's been off his meds?”

She nods. “I don't know how long for. I've been so caught up with worrying about the kids and worrying about him not getting killed that I haven't been paying attention.”

“It's not your fault,” Nik rubs her back now. “You're his wife, not his babysitter.”

“I always know if he's going through a crisis. Always. And I'm always there for him. To help him through it. And maybe if I noticed sooner...”

“Esme, don't do this to yourself. None of this is your fault.  You can help him, but you can't fix him. He has to want to fix himself.”

“I told him not to take this job. I begged him not to take it. He'd just gotten back from Guatemala and he promised me...he promised the kids...that he would stay home. That he wouldn't take anything else for at least two weeks. And then McMann showed up in Telluride and everything went to shit.”

“That was McMann's plan. When he couldn't kill Tyler in Guatemala, he changed his entire plan. He concocted this elaborate story about his wife and his kids because he knew that Tyler would cave in at the mention of kids. He wanted to bring him here to start shit with the IRA. So the IRA would kill him and McMann's hands would be clean. No connection to Tyler's death. But when he brought you in and you started digging around....”

“So it's my fault?” the tears fall in earnest now. “He's doing this because of me? Because I got involved in this?”

“No. Esme, that's not what I'm saying. I'm saying that McMann had to make things even more complicated and twisted to get his hands on Tyler. Including targeting you and the kids. And that's why Tyler is doing this. Or at least that's his rationale. He feels he needs revenge.”

“For what? I'm fine. The kids are fine. What...?”

“The threat was even worse in his mind because he's not in a good place. You know what he gets like that, when he's off his meds.”

She nods. “He obsesses over things. He thinks things are a hundred times worse than what they are.”

“It's Tyler doing these things, but it's not Tyler at the same time. He's not the Tyler you know.  He may think he is, but he isn't.”

“What am I supposed to do? If he's that unhinged, I won't be able to get through to him.  No one will be able to get through to him.”

“Tough love?” she suggests.  “What is he most afraid of? Not just now. But always.”

“I can't do that him, Nik. I can't hurt him like that. If things are that bad now, what will he get like if I do that to him? I just can't. What he's doing is wrong, I'm not denying that. But I can't break his heart.”

“Esme, this is what he needs. To snap him out of it. If he has something he's afraid to lose, that will be what forces him to save himself. You know I'm right. Remember when you kicked him out? Six months it took. But he smartened up, didn't he? Because he was afraid you'd never take him back and he'd never see his kids.”

“I can't,” she insists. “I can't hurt him like that. Of all the things that would break him...”

“It will force him to get his shit together. It will make him realize that he's out of control and he's need to get his head on straight. I know you don't want to do it. You don't want to use yourself and your kids...his kids...as weapons, but you need to. If you want to save Tyler, you have to do it.  Or he'll become someone you don't even recognize. And you won't have a choice to walk  away for good. I know you don't want that.”

“No, I don't...” she uses the back of her hand to brush tears off her cheeks.  “...I don't want to walk away. I love him. And I know he loves me. I know he loves his kids. And I'm having a baby and I can't do it alone. I can't do it without him.”

“You'll have to if this goes on. Because you're going to loose him. To whatever the hell is going on inside his head. If you want to help save him, you have to do this. He needs you to do this.”

“Fine,” she reluctantly agrees. “But it isn't going to well. It's going to go to shit. And then what? When he loses his mind? I'm not afraid of him. I know he won't hurt me. That's one thing I do know for sure. But he's going to flip out, Nik. And this place will be a battle zone.”

“If that happens,  you call me and I'll come and get you. You can come stay with me in my room until he calms down., okay?”

Esme nods.

“It's going to be alright,” Nik assures her, as she wraps an around her friend's shoulder, pulling her tight into her side, pressing a kiss to her temple. “Everything is going to be alright.”

****

She's sitting at the end of the bed when he returns, nervously bouncing her legs up and down and chewing on her bottom lip; cell phone clutched tightly in her hand.

“What's going on?” Tyler asks, as she slips his feet out of flip flops, leaving them by the door. “I thought you were going out with Tanis?”

“I changed my mind,”  her voice is strained, the emotion evident. And she doesn't look at him, even when he walks further into the room and lays his hand on her back and drops a kiss on the top of her head. “Where were you?” she asks.

“I told you. I went to help out with McMann.”

“What kind of help?”

“What does it matter?”

“I'm just curious, I guess.  I mean, if three Marines can't handle him, what are you supposed to do about it?”

“Just an extra pair of hands there, I suppose. What's going on? You okay? You seem a little...”

“Upset?” she finishes for him.

He nods.

“I need you to be honest with me, Tyler. I don't want you lying to me. Where were you?”

“I just told you...”

“I know where you were and who you were with. But where were you? As in location? Why is it big secret? Why am I not allowed to know these things? How come every time I ask you, you either totally ignore me or you just change the subject?”

“You don't need to know. Your part in all of this is done now. There's nothing left for you to do. Why would I get you involved in anything else? You need to be taking it easy. For the baby.”

“Don't do that,” she shakes her head, and finally turns her face towards him, her eyes darker than he's ever seen them. “Don't you use this baby as an excuse to keep things from me.”

“What are you talking about? What...?”  he attempts to lay a hand on her shoulder, and she aggressively pushes it away and stands up, facing him.

“I am going to ask you one more time,” she says, voice trembling. “Where were you?”

“I fucking told you. I was helping with McMann. Where the hell does it matter where the actual place is?”

She inhales deeply, pulls her lip between her teeth, and then exhales sharply.  “What the hell is this?”  she brings up the photos on her phone, tapping on the one of McMann restrained to the chair, hood still over his face. “Can you explain this? Tell me what this is, Tyler.”

He sighs heavily, fists tightening by his sides. “Where did you get that?”

“Nik. She sent me a whole bunch. See...” she scrolls through the pictures, and when he attempts to reach for the phone, she yanks it away, holding it behind her back. “...tell me you didn't do this. Tell me you didn't drug someone and kidnap them and tie them up in a storage locker. Tell me you didn't do those things.”

He stares at her; long and hard, blue eyes never leaving dark brown.

“Tell me,” she orders. “Tell me it wasn't you. Tell me that she's wrong. That it was someone else and they're just wanting you to take the blame. Tell me.”

Tyler shakes his head. “I can't.”

“So this was all you? All those pictures? All those things done to him? All those bruises and all the blood and the missing teeth? That was all you? You did all of that?”

He nods.

“Why? Why would you do this? What the hell,Tyler? This is not you! You don't do shit like this! You don't hurt people. You help them!”

“I've hurt plenty of people. I've killed even more. You know that.”

“You kill because you have to! Because you don't have a choice. Because it's you or them . But this! What you're doing now? You have a choice! You're choosing to do this! You're choosing to hurt someone!”

“He fucking deserves it,” his voice is low and steady, giving no evidence to the rage that's building inside of him.

“Why? Who the hell are you to say someone deserves this? Jesus Christ, Tyler! You ripped someone's teeth out of their mouth with goddamn pliers! What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Nothing. Nothing is wrong with me. He deserves this. I'm doing this for you.”

“For me?” she laughs incredulously. “For me? Why do you think I would want this? I don't want this! Put a bullet in his head and call it a fucking day! Don't do this! This is sick! This is fucked up and you know it!”

“You know what he was going to do to you? To the kids? Our kids?”

“Don't you dare use them in this. Don't you dare use them to justify this. You think this is what they would want? Their daddy doing these kinds of things to people? You worry about what Millie will say when she grows up. How she'll react when she finds out about your past as mercenary. You worry about that then you go and do this? This is somehow better?”

“She'd understand. That I did it for her.”

“You aren't going to rationalize this. No matter what you say to me. This ends now, Tyler. You hand him over to whoever is going to take him and that's it. This ends. You stop this right now.”

He shakes his head. “Why are you doing this?”

“Why am I doing this? What am I doing? Holding you accountable for your bullshit? Like I've been doing for five and a half fucking years! When I have I never not called you out on something? Did you really think I wouldn't call you out on this?”

“You weren't supposed to find out.”

“Oh and lying about it makes it so much better. You know, when Nik showed up here and said we needed to talk, I was almost hoping she was going to tell me you were fucking her. Because that would have been so much easier to deal with than this. And how sad is that? That I'd rather you fuck another woman than do something like this?”

“What do you want me to say?”

“I want you to tell me that this stops right now. That you don't go near him ever again. That you let Mark and his guys handle this from now on. This ends here.  Tell me this ends here.”

He shakes his head.

“Are you fucking kidding me right now? Look at these pictures!” she throws the phone at them. “Look at them, Tyler! Look at them and tell me that this is okay! Fucking look at them!”

“Don't...” he takes a step towards her, a fist clutched at his side. “....don't fucking talk to me like that.”

“What are you going to? Are you going to the same thing to me? Are you going to lose your shit on me too?”

“I'd never do that. I would never, ever hurt you.”

“Really? Are you sure? Because I thought you'd never turn into this. I never thought you'd turn into someone who would do this kind of thing. After all the years you've spent getting people away from sick fucks that do these things, you turn around and you become one of them.”

“I'm nothing like them,” he hisses through gritted teeth.

“Why are you doing this? Why? Give me one good reason. Look me in the eye and give me one good reason.”

“I told you!” he finally snaps. “He was going to hurt you. He was going to hurt our kids. What the fuck am I supposed to do? Let it happen? Be okay with it?!”

“He can't hurt us because you've got him locked up in that fucking storage place! He can't hurt anyone! So just leave him there to rot if you have to. But don't do this. You don't need to do this!”

“I do. For you. And the kids.”

“No!” she snarls, and jabs him in the chest with her forefinger.  “You don't use us like that! Don't you dare use us to justify this! We don't want you doing this! I want you to stop, Tyler. I want you to just walk away from McMann. From the job. I want you to tell Nik to find someone else to get those kids. Because you are in no way healthy enough to do this job.”

He smirks. “Who the fuck do you think you are? Talking to me like this? Who...?”

“I'm your wife, you fucking asshole!  I'm your wife and I'm worried about you! Because you're becoming someone I don't even recognize! You're slowly becoming a completely different person and I can't watch it happen. I can't just stand back and let you do this to yourself.”

“The person you remember is gone, Esme. You're remembering someone that existed for five days. In Dhaka. That's who you remember.”

“No,” she shakes her head, remaining defiant.  “I remember the person after that. The person who chose to keep going when he could have given up. That's who I remember.”

“The guy you fell in love with? He died that day on the bridge. You know he did. That's who you remember. That guy you were fucking for five days. That's who you remember.”

“No, Tyler. That's not who I remember. I remember the guy who saved a fourteen year old boy even though the job went to shit and there wasn't going to be a payout.  I remember the guy who busted his ass to get Ovi and I across the bridge. That's who I remember!”

“Do you remember the guy that got shot in the throat? That fucking bled out all over you? Do you remember him? Look at it!” he points to the scar on his neck. “Fucking look at it, Esme. You can't, can you. You can't even look at it because it because too real to you. Do you remember that guy?”

“Of course I do.”

“Because that guy died that day. And he took those other guys with him. What you got in the end? That's not the same guy.”

“You're better than that guy.  You became a better man. Do you remember saying that to me? That I made you want to become a better man? Do you remember that?”

He nods.

“You are a better man. And that's the man I want. I don't want the man that does shit like this to people. And you don't want to be that man. I know you don't want to.”

“I'm sorry,” he snarls. “That I can't be that person for you.”

“You are that person, you dick! And I want you to stay that person, Tyler. I need you stay that person. Your kids need you to stay that person.”

“You should have let me die. On that bridge. You should have just let me die.”

She fights back the tears despite the devastation his words inflict upon her heart. Her entire body. “How can you even say that? Is that really what you wanted? You wanted me to let you die?”

“It would have been better if you'd just let me go.”

“Better for who? You? You were the one that wanted to keep seeing me after Dhaka. You brought it up first. We made plans. Together. To travel and enjoy getting to know each other and see where things took us. A guy who wants to die does not do that. And you can't convince me otherwise.”

“It would have been so much easier,” he speaks with a quiet resolve, despite the rage that causes his entire body to tremble.

“For you? That's bullshit, Tyler and you know it.”

“You wouldn't have wasted the last five and a half years of you life.”

“I didn't waste anything. I married the love of my life. I had his children. There was nothing wasted. I've spent these last five and a half years loving you with everything I am and everything I have. And I spent them being loved by you. I wasted nothing.”

“None of this would be happening. This bullshit with McMann. People going after my kids. Threatening them. If I hadn't survived...”

“But you did,” she hisses. “You did survive. You didn't die because you're a stubborn fucking asshole who refuses to give up. The same stubborn asshole who coded three times in the OR and still came back. You have me. You have your children. Aren't we enough? Aren't we enough to make you want to live?”

“Of course you are. But....”

“There's no 'buts', Tyler. I know how stressed you are right now. I know you're going through a fucking nightmare mentally. And I know that it frustrates you and it confuses you and I know it scares you. But you're not in this alone. I am right here with you. And I'll fight your fight with you.”

“You shouldn't have to!” he argues. “Don't you fucking get that? You shouldn't have to keep doing this!”

“I don't have to do anything. I want to. Why won't you let me help you? Why won't you swallow your goddamn pride and let me in? Just let me help you. Please.”

“What do you want me to do? Tell me. Tell me what you want me to do.”

“I want you to stop this. This McMann bullshit. Because that's not you. Regardless of what you say, regardless of your stupid ass reasonings. That's not the man I fell in love with. That I married. That I gave children to. It's your brain, Tyler. It's messing with you. So you need to stop right now. And you need to tell Nik that you're done. Someone else can find those kids. You tell her and we leave. We get the first flight out of here and we go and get our kids and Ovi and we go home.”

He shakes his head, voice choked by emotion. “I can't.  I'm sorry.  I can't.”

“You still want to finish the job,” it's a statement, not a question. “You still think you need to stay and get it done.”

He nods.

“Well I guess you've made your choice then. It was always going to be this way, wasn't it, Tyler. You were always going to chose the job over me, weren't you.”

“That is not what I'm doing. I promised you, at the end of it, I was done.”

“I am sick to death of your promises. Of you breaking them all the time. I'm tired.  I'm tired and I've got another human being inside of me that I'm trying to keep alive. I'm tired and I'm done. You made your choice,” she steps past him, aggressively shoving her shoulder into him.

“What are you doing?” he watches as she grabs one of her suitcases out of the unlocked second closet in the hall. “Esme...what the fuck? Stop your fucking games, okay? Just stop this shit and just sit down and we will talk about this and...”

“We are way past sitting down and talking about anything,” she tosses the suitcase onto the bed, angrily yanking on the zipper to open it, then stomps to the dresses and begins tearing open drawers; gathering up various items of clothing and messily tossing them into the case.

“Just stop!” he orders. “What are you doing?!”

“I'm leaving. I'm going back to Colorado. I'll stay with my mom until Ovi brings the kids back.”

“You don't need to do that. Stop...” he stands behind and reaches around her slight frame to grab both of her wrists in one of his hands. “You don't need to leave. I don't want you to leave.”

“If I stay, I'm only going to be in your way. Just like I was in Dhaka.”

“That's not true. You were never in my way in Dhaka.”

“It wouldn't have been so hard if I'd died in that forest too. If Saju had have just done me in when he had the chance. Things would have been a lot easier on you and a lot easier on Ovi.”

“That's bullshit and you know it.”

“Why am I even here still? My usefulness ran it's coarse, right? You don't need me anymore.”

“Of course I need you. You're my wife.”

“You chose, Tyler,” she manages to yank her hands out of his grip. “You made your choice. Now you can live with it.”

“Don't do this. Please. I never chose the job over you.”

“You just did!” she bellows, and pushes him away with her elbow, tears flowing freely down her face. “You just did!”

“I promised you I'd be done after I was finished her. That was what our deal.”

“Well fuck the deal!” she shoves him away once more when he attempts to get closer. “And fuck you too, Tyler!”

“Esme...stop...don't do this. Don't leave.  I don't want you to leave.”

“You need to get your shit together,” she orders. “You need to figure out what the hell you want.”

“You,” there's no hesitation.  “I want you. I want my kids.”

“Then come with me. Tell Nik that you're done. Tell her you're finished and come home with me.”

“You know I can't. You know I can't leave those kids.”

“But you can you leave yours right? That's a never a problem to you.  It's never a problem when you walk out the door while they're sleeping and leave me to clean up your mess. You can leave your own kids...that you helped make...but not complete strangers. Makes total sense.”

“Just give me to the end of the week. Like we agreed on. That's all I'm asking for here. Just five more days.”

“And then five days become ten and ten become twenty and on and on and on.”

“Not this time,” Tyler insists. “This time I'm done. I meant what I said.”

“I'm not staying here. I refuse to stay here. I'm not hanging around to get that phone call or that knock on the door letting me know you're dead. I'm going home. To Colorado. To my mom's. And you get a hold of Ovi and you get him and my kids back. Do you understand me?”

“Esme...” he lays his hands on her shoulders. “...just stop.”

“You track down Ovi and my kids and you get their asses back to Colorado. Or I will never, ever forgive you. I will spend the rest of my life hating you if you don't  get my kids back where they belong. And stop!” she uses her elbows to knock her hands off her shoulders. “Stop touching me! I don't want you touching me right now. Just get my kids back, Tyler.”

“They're my kids too,” he angrily reminds her.

“Yeah, well try being a father once in a while. Not just when it's convenient for you and fits your schedule.”

“That's fucking low and you know it, Esme. That's really fucking low. I do what I do for those kids. For you!”

“You do what you do because you like it. You just won't admit. Because it makes you sick to admit it so you use me and the kids as an excuse. Because it makes you feel better. Quit your shit, Tyler. Just admit. For once, just admit you do this job because you enjoy it.”

“I don't enjoy it. I do it because I'm good at it. No. I'm fucking great at it. And the money...”

“Fuck the money. There is not enough money in this world to replace you! I don't care about the money. I would leave  with you right now and go back to Australia and live in that goddamn shack with you and four kids and fucking chicken in the bathroom if that's what you wanted. If that is what would make you happy. If that's what would you keep you home and safe!”

“Esme....please...just stay here with me...we can sit down and talk about this. Like rational adults.”

“Tyler, I am way past feeling rational. I'm not staying here with you.  I love you. I love you so much it hurts sometimes.  But I can't be around you right now. I just can't. You need time to think. Without me around.”

“No,” he remains steadfast. “I don't.

She finishes throwing the clothes into the suitcase and zips it closed. “I'll be there. When this is done. I'll be waiting for you to come home. But if in your heart you do want the job over us, don't even bother coming back. Move. Get out of my way.”

“Stop. Right now. Stop whatever fucking game this is and...”

“This isn't a game!” she screams. “I said move!”

He holds his hands up in surrender and steps backwards. “You're leaving now?” he asks incredulously, as she grabs the suitcase and heads for the door.  “Right now? Where the hell are you going?”

“I'll stay with Nik.  Then I'll get a flight back first thing tomorrow.”

He crosses the room in three long strides, slamming a palm against the door to prevent her from opening it. “Stay here. With me. Then tomorrow you book a flight and I will take you to the airport. Just stay here. With me.”

“Why? Because you think fucking me a few times will make everything better? It doesn't solve everything, Tyler. Regardless of what you think.”

“I never said that. I never even thought it. I just want you to stay. I just want to sleep here. With me. In the same bed. So I can wake up beside you. That's all I want.”

“I can't.  You need to respect that. That I need to be away from you right now. This all too much. Finding out what you've been doing. I need time to come to terms with that and I need to take care of myself and this baby and I can't do either of those things if I'm with you. You have to let me go, Tyler.”

“No. I don't, And I won't.”

“If I stay, this won't end well. Because all the worry and the stress is going to get to me and I'm going to lose this baby and you won't ever forgive yourself for that. So please. Just let me go. If you love me, if you love this baby, just let me go.”

“Fine...” he relents, removing his hand from the door and stepping back far enough to allow her to open it.

“I'm sorry,” she says,  and he reaches out to clear the tears off her cheeks with his thumbs. “This is not about not loving you. Because I do. I love you so fucking much. And it's because I love you that I'm doing this.”

He nods. “I know.”

“Do you? Because I need you to understand that. I need you to know that I love you and I'm not leaving you. I don't want this...us...to be over. I just need to take care of myself and this baby. I can't do that if I'm here. And you know I can't. You know right, that?”

“Yup.”

“I want you to find those kids. I do. And then I want you to come home. To me. To our kids. Your kids. Promise me, Tyler. If there's ever going to be one promise you make and keep, make it that one.”

“I promise. I'll come home. To you. To the kids.”

“Be careful, okay? And stay safe. Come home in one piece. And breathing.”

“I will,” he assures her.

She manages a small smiles, then reaches up to push his hair off of his forehead. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he leans down to kiss her.  Long and languid. Tender.

“I'll see you when I see you,” she says.

He grins. “That's my line.”

“Well, I beat you to it this time.”

He lays a hand on the back of her neck and pulls her into him, pressing his lips to her brow.  “Stay,” he says. “Just tonight. Tomorrow I'll let you leave. I'll take you to the airport.”

“If I don't leave now, I never will. And that's not good for either of us. But I'll be waiting for you. I promise,” she places her hand on the side of his face, running her thumb over his lips and then the bristles of his beard. “I'll miss you.”

“I'll miss you too. At least call me. Before you leave tomorrow.”

“I will,” she promises, and briefly leans her forehead against his chest before stepping out into the hall and shutting the door behind her.

[dlkardenal]

Sweet and deadly - The Hidden Badass trope

Hey there, travelers!

Today’s specimen is a controversial trope I have a love-hate relationship with. When done right, it can create wonders but when creators goof this up, oh boi… This one dooms generic shonen anime series and YA fantasy stories but has the potential to elevate basically every other trope there is-this is the hidden badass.

As the name suggests, the concept is fairly simple: take a shy, introverted and generally plain character and sprinkle on a twist where they show some secret and extremely flashy superpower that nobody knew they had to save the day. We first noticed this recurring element in Japanese cartoons where the titular badass was nearly always a teenage or even younger girl with a sunshine cupcake personality that spurred every viral male protagonist in a mile radius to protect her, just to take over the spotlight when the situation got really messy. Think about Lucy from Elfen Lied, Neliel from Bleach, or more recently Elizabeth from Seven Deadly Sins. At first, both Lory and I thought this to be an anime-only thing, but from that point on, we noticed this more and more in other works of fiction. How?

Well, there are a couple of ways creators utilize this trope, ranging from bad to amazing. The anime version sees them mostly as a plot device, a convenient in-world mechanism to solve problems when other options run out. This could happen when a hero is facing an enemy he can’t match for some reason, be it bravery, foolish boldness, or necessity. In these settings changing the story could deter either the protagonist’s character or the plot itself, so an external tool is needed to solve the situation. That doesn’t sound bad in itself, but you can mock this up really quickly. 

The easiest way to annoy your reader with this is to stick to the tried out and tested formula without changing a thing. Just recreate the sprinkle cupcake with a war machine split personality, going from harmless to merciless, and push both character traits to their comic limits. You can earn bonus audience hate-points if the hidden badass has telekinetic powers or superhuman instincts and/or speed so they can massacre a military task force. 

The second easiest way is to leave this trope hanging after the situation is resolved, assuring the readers that this was solely for convenience’s sake. If you want to avoid these yuckups, you need to integrate the badassery into your world. If a little girl suddenly goes berserk and evaporates an entire city, there will be consequences. Other characters yet unaware of this power will have opinions, their perspective will change and if they aren’t the holy paladin-type, some might even try and make use of this nuclear warhead hidden inside a tiny body. Also, please for the love of God, leave telekinesis out, it’s been done a zillion times. Be creative!

Another reason for this trope is more about the heroes than the titular hidden badass. If this trope character is particularly vulnerable before the great fuck-everything-up moment, the hero might form a sort of defensive personality towards them. You know, the knight in shining armor. Then when the badassery happens they can move on to a power couple situation now on equal footing. This way the start of their relationship is more alike to many young adult romance plots (or at least the older titles in this genre), but it can grow out of the damsel-defender setting. This can be really good if handled carefully. 

The main thing here in my opinion is the power balance and consistency. If the titular badass ridiculously outshines the hero it’s just a switch between roles (which can be a great story know that I think of it, just different from our original aim). Also, if the badassery is once-in-a-lifetime, then it falls into the same category as the previous paragraph where it’s painfully obvious it’s just a plot device.

As I mentioned, this trope can amazingly complement a lot of others like it does in many western popular media. My favorite is the coupling of the hidden badass and the outcast tropes in Freeform’s Siren. (Yay, finally!)

For those of you who missed this amazing show, Siren is set in America’s west coast in the fictional town of Bristol Cove, a tourist attraction known as the mermaid capital of the world. However, the local legends get a little too real when a mysterious young girl named Ryn appears in search of her older sister allegedly captured by the humans.

Ryn is a perfect example of how to handle the outcast-badass mix. She’s a mermaid with unnatural physical strength and mesmerizing voice magic that can fry anyone’s brain making the into a lovestruck drooling idiot. Also, because of the clever choice in casting, she looks tiny, adorable, and defenseless. So far nothing deviates too much about the trope, but the show’s brilliance is realism. Ryn as a mermaid knows jack shit about human society, and although she’s a quick study because of her more advanced brain functions, it takes a long ass time until she figures out to wear clothes, why not to kill anyone and how her siren song affects the humans around them. Without the help of marine biologist and lovestruck drooling idiot Ben, she couldn’t step outside and walk for a minute before killing someone and getting herself discovered and hunted like her sister. She is terrifying and powerful, but she needs humans to navigate her through society and eventually reach her goal. This element stays with her throughout the 4 seasons of this show (as of now). Her dissimilarity always and forever means certain benefits but handicaps as well, which creates a feeling that it’s an organic part of the show’s world and not just a plot element to sometimes cause trouble.

There are a lot of other tropes the hidden badass mixes with, like the sexy bad guy or the chosen one, but I think I rambled on for long enough for now. I hope you enjoyed it, and if you have a favorite hidden badass, feel free to share it! Also, what did you think of Siren?I’ll see you next week, stay sharp, travelers! Cheers,Dar

[unofferable-fic]

UNOFFERABLE: 17 - RISKS

Summary: The unexpected arrival of an injured Midgardian child clinging to life causes a ruckus on Asgard. The princes, Thor and Loki, are somewhat intrigued by this unusual guest, unsure as to how and why she ended up in such a state. What they did not expect, however, was the turn of events her appearance would inevitably cause.

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Set Pre-Thor 1

Pairing: Loki x OFC

Inspired by this imagine

Warnings: Fluff, angst, more long awaited fluff.

Word Count: 3,561

Previous Chapter     Next Chapter

Playlist: “I Can’t Figure Out What’s Going On” — Half Moon Run, “Run to You” — Pentatonix, “Lovers” — Ruth Barrett

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A/N: Also available on AO3  and FanFiction.net. Oh Jesus, it’s happening...

A peaceful night’s rest seemed to allude Loki in recent weeks. His mind was consistently plagued with thoughts of Ellie that were new, daunting, and oddly intriguing. He was not used to this; wanting someone for more than just sating himself. He had had many Aesir in his lifetime, but never had he desired to spend time with them afterwards.

Am I being foolish? he thought, laying wide awake in his bed, his eyes boring into the ceiling. I have always vowed never to waste my time with such flippant emotions. Forming attachments is nothing but unnecessary weakness. I do not wish to be dependent on another. It would be unwise to involve myself with her.

But would she even wish him to? Did she feel the same ache in her chest and uneasiness in her abdomen that he suffered with at the sight of her? He had no reason to believe that she actually was attracted to him. She grew up with him from a young age and had definitely formed a fondness of him — that much he could believe — but attraction? He doubted it. He was used to getting his way with the servants and the others that he seduced, but nothing stretched on further than lust. He did not wish for anything more. He would not allow it.

But this Midgardian woman…

With a heavy sigh, he sat up in his bed, feeling an uncomfortable combination of being physically exhausted but wide awake in his mind. He threw his legs over the side and sat with his head in his hands. He would not act on these feelings. He was foolish to think that they were anything but a hindrance to him. He dismissed it as being nothing more than wanting to lay with Ellie out of mere curiosity — he had never had a Midgardian before considering they were so beneath the Aesir.

This is lust and nothing more. All I must do is find a willing servant to find release and I will return to seeing Ellie as the way she once was.

Loki sat for a long time on the side of his bed, reassuring himself that this was the best choice and promising that he would stand by it. Seeing no hope in falling asleep at this rate, he stood up, pulled on a tunic and pants, and left his chambers. He walked around the palace at his leisure, taking no notice of the Einherjar on night duty as he passed them. He didn’t think about his destination or where his bare feet were taking him; he just kept walking, blocking all thoughts of her from his mind. He wasn't surprised when he arrived at the library, but strolled inside and shut the large doors behind him. Inside, the room was illuminated by the moonlight peaking in through the tall windows. He gazed around and made his way towards one of the shelves, specifically one on the history of Midgard, his bare feet mostly silent on the wooden floor. When he rounded a corner, he hesitated in perplexity at what he saw.

“Loki?”

Ellie sat in his favourite armchair with a book in hand and her legs pulled up to her chest. A small candle was lit on the table beside her that gave off only a feint glow in the vast space. All she seemed to have on were her sleeping clothes, which only consisted of a light gown. A lump formed in his throat almost immediately.

“Ellie,” he mumbled. “What are you doing still awake?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” she replied with a smile and set the heavy book down on the table. “Can’t sleep?”

His eyes stayed fixed on the floor, but it was truly difficult to tear his gaze from her attire. “Sleep seems to allude me of late.”

“How come?” She sounded concerned, and he didn’t doubt that she also looked it.

“If I knew why, I would probably be able to fix the problem.” He certainly hadn’t meant to sound so snappy, but his silver tongue was working against him that night.

When he stole a glance at her, he noticed the hint of hurt on her face. “Sorry I asked.”

“And why is it that you cannot rest either?” he questioned, hoping he could undo his previous rudeness, and took some hesitant steps towards her.

Stop walking to her, you fool! Stop it!

His feet carried on of their own accord. Tonight, his brain was taking a backseat.

“Over-thinkin’,” she grumbled and scratched her head. “About stuff. Can’t sleep when my head feels like it’s melted.”

“That’s understandable.”

She nodded and let out a sigh. “I was hopin’ reading may distract me long enough to fall asleep, but my mind keeps insistin’ that I waste time thinkin’ about it.”

“So pensive as usual then?”

She gave him a wry look but smiled. “Oh, ha ha ha. Very funny.”

“What are you reading?”

“Seiðr stuff mostly. I thought it could maybe distract me.”

He nodded and stopped next to the table, gently reaching out to run a finger over the book’s spine. “So what exactly is it that has claimed all your thoughts?”

She looked up at him with a smirk. Despite her appearance, he could tell that she wasn’t as relaxed as she made herself out to be. She was fingering the hem of her gown quickly, a familiar nervous tick. “Hey, if you’re not sharing then neither am I.”

He eyed her carefully, removing his hand from the book. She had peeked his interest without question and he wanted to know. “Ellie…”

“Yes, Your Highness?”

“You know I don’t like it when you call me by such titles.” That wasn’t entirely true; nowadays, every time she called him ‘My Prince’, his abdomen clenched hard and he had to think of something else to prevent his breeches from tenting.

“I’m your maid — it’s sorta in my job description.”

“You are more than just my maid,” Loki answered without hesitation, but his reply was met with silence. The pair gazed at each other for what felt like the longest time from their positions. Ellie’s expression was unreadable and Loki was hoping that his was the same. Her lack of any answer only made him regret his words. He was doing an absolutely terrible job of acting like nothing was bothering him and he knew that she was no fool — he may have been the God of Lies, but she saw right through him. She did grow up learning from the best, after all.

If their silence confirmed anything, it was that they both knew when it came to class, his statement was a lie — she was no more than a mortal surrounded by gods.

“I know, we’re friends too,” Ellie sighed and got up from her seat with the large book in her small hands. “I should probably head to bed and leave you to whatever over-thinkin’ you are up to. Apparently you don’t want to talk about it, so I won’t try to help.”

He watched her walk over to the nearest bookshelf and return the book to its rightful home. Loki couldn’t help but let his eyes take in her figure as she stretched upwards to put it away, lingering on her backside. His jaw clenched at the sight and his eyes remained fixed even when she turned back around to walk by him.

“Goodnight, Loki,” she said with a nod as she passed him.

“Wait,” Loki called before he could even think of a reason not to. She froze on the spot with her back facing him, and to keep her there, he added quickly “Don’t… go. Please.”

Slowly turning to face him, he was treated with a look of bewilderment. “It’s really odd hearin’ that word come from your mouth.”

Loki couldn’t help but grin at her comment. “Please? What is so funny about that?”

Ellie tilted her head to the side. “Oh, come on. It’s hilarious.”

“Then at the risk of sounding hilarious, please stay for a moment.”

“If you insist.” She stood in front of him with her arms wrapped around her midsection. “So what’s botherin’ you? Is it your father?”

He knew he couldn’t tell her. He couldn’t possibly let her know that she was the reason he couldn't sleep at night anymore, that she consumed his dreams to the point of insanity. So he would do what he does best, and lie. “He’s always bothering me, so no.”

“Then Thor, maybe? You’s seem to be getting on well lately though.”

“Thor has somehow managed to be less irritating than usual of late.”

“How about the Warriors Three, then? They’re sometimes able to get your goat.”

At her mention of the group, Loki’s mind began to weave a simple lie that could distract her from the truth. He had to avoid her realising what the problem was at all costs.

He looked at her hard, his lips set in a firm line, and remembered the comments Fandral had been making towards Ellie lately. That could work as a distraction, considering there was even truth in it as well. “I am not overly fond of Fandral at present.”

She listened intently, stepping closer to him. “For what reason exactly? I mean, besides his gratuitous confidence and general cockiness, what’s he done to deserve your displeasure?”

He fixed his gaze on her. “I do not like how he speaks to you.”

Her brow piqued at that. “How he speaks to me?”

“Yes. He is vulgar and his comments distasteful. You do not deserve to be spoken to in such a manner.”

“Umm, when did he say anythin’ inappropriate to me?”

Loki’s brow furrowed at her genuine look of surprise. How could she not realise how Fandral had treated her so ill? Was it possible that she even enjoyed his advances? The thought made Loki’s stomach sick. It was not possible. He refused to believe it.

“For one, in the training yard ereyesterday. He passed comment on your form while ogling you like you were a marinating ham.”

“Oh, that. Well, you know Fandral — he was probably joking. Plus, he’d bed anythin’ with a pulse.”

With a tone matching the sharpness of a blade, he said. “Oh, is it possible that you perhaps relish his advances?” His eyes narrowed as his stomach grew more sickly with each passing second.

Ellie immediately choked with wide, disbelieving eyes. “What? No! Are you insane?”

Loki held his arms out at his sides and leaned in closer to her, expecting for her to retreat back a few steps, but she remained poised on the spot. “I am merely putting two and two together, my dear. You do not dismiss his actions and it appears that you almost delight in them.”

And just like that, she snapped. “I do not enjoy them! What in the name of God makes you think that Fandral or anyone in this Godforsaken realm would ever look at me like that? I’m not even from here — I am a Midgardian! I’m mortal! I’m fucking nothing to you people!”

Towards the end of her short rant, she had begun to scream and her voice cracked. Her outburst shook the whole library and the pregnant silence that followed was almost painful. She breathed raggedly, her shoulders shaking with the anger that welled within her. When she opened her mouth to continue, her voice was almost a whisper. “I was left to die in a fuckin’ alleyway by the person who was supposed to love and protect me, the person who probably killed my brother and mother, and now I’m stuck on a different fuckin’ planet, realm — whatever — where I’m the only one of my kind. I can’t be with a god and a god could never want me. I’d be dead and buried in a bloody heartbeat compared to you lot.”

Loki couldn’t hear anymore of it, and he damn well nearly broke down when he saw the tears roll down her cheeks. He had caused this. He was the one that upset her and it killed him. He immediately wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into a tight embrace. For a split second he could feel her body tense at the contact before she relaxed and wrapped her arms around his neck. With his arms around her waist, he let his chin rest on the top of her head. Her face was buried in his chest and her body shook with unsteady breaths.

“You are not nothing,” he whispered to her reassuringly, hoping to banish at least some of her doubts. “I do not want you thinking such things when they are so far from the truth. You…” He hesitated when he felt the lump in his throat, contemplated whether he should say it. Would he be taking one large step backwards? “You are not nothing to me, little one.”

He froze, awaiting some response. Any response.

Please say something. Please tell me that you care.

He peered down at her when her head tilted upwards and their eyes met. They were stained red from tears but he remembered thinking how good it felt to have her in his arms and how truly beautiful she looked when she studied him like that. She was inspecting him like something on display, a fine artefact found and placed behind glass to be surveyed in wonder. He hadn’t been expecting it, but suddenly her arms tightened around his neck, pulled him down, and her lips were on his.

He nearly leapt out of his own skin. He vaguely remembered letting out a small yelp at the contact before she suddenly pulled away, but he kept his arms firmly locked around her waist. Now they were both panting heavily.

“I-I’m s-sorry,” she stammered. “I didn’t mean to… I had t-to know what i-it would… feel like. I s-shouldn’t have, I’ve never—”

This time around, his lips cut her off. He took the lead, kissing her with the ferocity that he had been holding inside all those months as it came flooding out. His arms pulled her lithe body as close as it could possibly be against his own. He could remember nibbling on her bottom lip and the mewl that came out of her nearly sent all of the blood in his body straight down south. After what felt like a long time — but not nearly as long as he needed — he pulled away and rested his forehead against hers.

“That may have been what I was over-thinkin’ about earlier,” Ellie admitted between catching her breath with a look of what he could only hope was admiration. She was smiling now.

He chucked as her hands splayed out over his covered chest. “Kissing me?”

She gulped and averted her gaze, clearly nervous at the mention of the position they were in. “Well, yes, kissin’ you was a thought, but mostly just you. And me. And what you thought of me. I wasn’t sure whether you would want to kiss me.”

He let out a noise that was a mix between a sigh and a laugh. “Oh, little one, I have been thinking of kissing you for some time now.”

“R-really?” she squeaked in disbelief. “You’re not lyin’?”

“I would not lie to you about that,” he insisted and pulled her in for another deep kiss. For a moment, he savoured her taste and grinned when a shiver went up her spine. “I did not know if you would want me. I thought you would want another rather like Thor or Fandral.”

She grimaced at the thought. “Thor? Oh, God, no. I love that guy, but he is in no way my type. Don’t even get me started on Lover Boy either. You’ve been the only one who caught my eye. I just couldn’t imagine a god like you wantin’ me like this.”

His dug his fingers gently into her skin, giving just the right amount of pressure for her back to arch and her body to push into him. “That is a huge relief for me to hear, considering I have wanted you like this for a while.”

“Are you tellin’ me that all this time we have just been tip-toeing around each other, convinced that the other definitely wasn’t attracted to us, when we were both actually really into it?”

“I believe we may have.”

There was a short pause before they both burst out into a fit of laughter. Loki watched her as her eyes watered with happy tears this time around and felt warmth spread through him, the earlier sickness completely vanishing.

“We’re idiots,” she giggled and toyed with the neckline of his tunic.

“Of the highest order,” he agreed before lifting her suddenly in his arms. She squealed and her legs went around his waist, probably out of instinct more than anything else. Setting her down on the nearby table, he settled between her legs and brushed a lock of hair behind her ear.

“You are beautiful,” he murmured. He truly meant it. She could knock the wind out of him with just a smile.

Her cheeks went pink almost instantly. “And you are extremely handsome.”

“My dear, you flatter me.”

“No, I mean it.” She paused briefly and opened her mouth a few times before closing it again. He merely stared at her and waited until eventually she managed to speak. “Loki?”

“Yes?”

“I know that you’re really experienced in… this stuff, and I’m not. At all. That—” A gulp. “—that was my first kiss. I’ve never courted another. Does my inexperience… does it bother you?”

He gave her a look of genuine surprise. “Hearing that I am the only one to taste your lips is one of the finest things that I have had the pleasure of knowing. And, Ellie, you taste delicious. I also feel inclined to mention that I have no issue with educating you in the more physical aspects of courting.”

He licked his lips and gazed lustfully at her, unwilling to sugar-coat what he was saying. Her cheeks were well and truly crimson now.

“Loki!” she hissed and slapped his shoulder. “You absolute scoundrel!”

“I believe the title of ‘Trickster’ suits me far better, love.”

“If you so insist. But does this means that you want’a court me?”

For the briefest of moments, he hesitated. The instinctive need to flee from any form of vulnerability was rising again somewhere in the back of his mind. But Loki’s physical urges took control of the situation, reminding him how her lips had just felt against his, how her body trembled in his hands…

He wanted this.

He wanted her.

Badly.

He had to make sure that she was his and his alone. No one could ever touch her in the ways that he would. No one could ever look at her like he did. For once, he was not concerned with this ending badly. Right now, the thoughts of her being with someone other than him was the worst outcome and he refused to let that happen.

He made a decision and he stuck to it confidently. “I do want to court you. You know, I have not been able to sleep lately because I could not get the thought of you out of my mind. It was scary, I will admit, as I have not cared for many people in such a manner before. But now that I have you in my arms, I am rather willing to say that I would much prefer to keep you here as long as I can.”

“But what of your mother and father? Odin is not goin’ to like this.”

“Oh, fuck Odin,” he groaned. “He rarely likes anything. But I will admit you are not wrong.”

“And Heimdall?”

“Darling, what do you take me for? I come to this library at night when I desire privacy, even from his prying eyes. This room is glamoured at this hour as always. He has no inkling as to our escapades in here. Despite that, I think we should keep this a secret, just for the moment.”

“So, a secret. Just between you and I?”

He nodded. “You and I. On that note, I very much want to kiss you again.”

She seemed nervous as he ran a finger over her cheekbone. “I really like kissin’ you, I just don’t really know if I’m any good at any of this.”

He chuckled deeply, leaning in closer to her. “Oh, my dear, you are far better at kissing than you realise.”

Soon, her lips were once more compliant against his and their bodies pressed tightly together. Loki had kissed many people in his life and he prided himself on his ability to make his lovers weak at the knees with just his lips and silver tongue, but never had he drawn such pleasure from merely a kiss. All rational thought and warnings against making himself vulnerable were banished to the far corners of his mind. With her hands in his hair and his teeth on her neck, he could barely form a coherent thought.

The sensation was like nothing he had felt before.

And, by the Norns, did he love it.

[blorbosexterminator]

I AM BACK!!! FOR 1 FINAL TIME & TO KISS GOODBYE TO THIS BEAUTIFUL FIC 😘

Also, I realized that, whatever happens in any story, its all decided by the writers & in this case, ITS YOU. So, I have a song especially dedicated to you :

🎶Who's been messing up everything?

It's been Nada all along 😈

Who's been pulling every evil string?

It's been Nada all along 😈

She's insidious (ha-ha!)

So perfidious

That you haven't even noticed

And the pity is (the pity is)

Pity, pity, pity, pity

It's too late to fix anything

Now that everything has gone wrong

Thanks to Nada (ha!)

Naughty Nada

It's been Nada all along!

(gasps) And she killed Alberto, Federico, Gandia and Tatiana, too! 🎶

(Agatha All Along by Kristen Anderson-Lopez and Robert Lopez feat. Kathryn Hahn)

(FINALLY!!! You have no idea how long Ive been waiting to put this song. From ep 13 I wanted to do this)

Onto the Finale, Get ready to be reviewed :

Okay, so I dont wanna focus on the angsty part cause I've cried too much

My dog : Yep, you finished an entire tissue box

Me :

Me :

But Sergio and Martin are getting Brotp Rights and I am here for that

Raquel advising Andres to forgive Martin?! BEAUTIFUL

Silene, who has been trying to hide from Raquel for the past days, came as well. 

She sat by his side and just put her arms around him, laying her head on his shoulder. He’s occasionally still amazed by her emotional honesty, how effortless it is for her to love and show it.

Okay, honestly? Silene is 80% redeemed in this telenova

Paula was drinking orange juice from a box, which doesn’t taste as nice as the one her mum makes, but she drank it anyway when Sergio sat by her side. She wasn’t exactly thinking it when she blurbed it out. 

“I told you.”

“Hm?” he turned to her.

“That night, I told you it was Silene, and you didn’t listen to me.”

“Huh, yeah. Yeah, you did,” he said, “I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you, can you forgive me?” she looked down and he had his hand reached. He stared at her, which always creeps her out, but not so much this time, until she shook it. He smiled at her, a little sadly.

“Aren’t you going to punish her?”

“I don’t know yet. Maybe.”

“Maybe? She kidnapped my grandma!”

Sergio chuckled, nothing was funny. “Yes, but she only did it because she was scared for me. And she’s family.”

 

That made no sense to Paula but she said nothing. 

“If you made a mistake, and you made it only because you believed something that turned out to not be true, wouldn’t you like Mama to forgive you? Wouldn’t you like me to tell you ‘ It’s okay, you won’t get grounded this time’ ?”

“Not if I stole someone’s grandma,” she murmured, she doesn’t even know why she would ever believe untrue things.

😍😍😍 Paula 😍😍😍 my girl saying nothing but facts 👏👏👏👏👏👏

Paula comforting Martin? So sweet, such a sweet girl, caeing about her both tios ❤❤❤

Also, that convo between them was so funny 🤣🤣🤣

“It seems every time he’s away from you, something terrible happens to him,” 

This is what exactly happened in canon and no, I will accept otherwise

“Maybe. It’s not far-fetched to believe this entire family is cursed.”

🤣🤣🤣🤣 Aint that the truth?! 🤣🤣🤣🤣

Don’t be stupid,” he said, his voice hurt with every word. “Put it back on.”

Martín’s eyes brightened, “What?”

“I can’t repeat myself, Martín. Have some decency, I’m tired—” Marin caught the words from his mouth, pressing his lips to his. The cuts hurt, but he couldn’t help but kiss him back. He never could

TRUE LOVE RIGHT HERE!!! So cute, so beautiful, so sweet, so lovely. Ah! My sweet baby heart, be calm

Agatha and Alicia?! Ran off in sunset together with money and kids?!?! :

Daniel and Monica gonna get married?! :

"I just don't get it. I already have one."

No you don't, Sergio thinks, but he says nothing.

🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣 #awkward 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

You can't have two dads!" she added, to which Martín snapped his head back from the chit-chattering he was engaged in with a ' hey!'

Andrés laughed, his arms around Martín’s waist. “Since when do you want to have kids?”

“I don’t but that’s not the point. You’re homophobic, Paula.”

“We didn’t have that talk with her yet, Martín.”

“What talk? She just attended our wedding! Should she see us—”

Sergio put his hands around her ears immediately as Raquel clasped her hand around his mouth.

Martin : My homophobic detecter senses are tingling

Martin, sweetie, no 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣. Please dont traumatise the kid further, save that exhibitism for Tatiana

Sergio just shook his head, but he couldn’t help but smile at them. He had been so preoccupied with the danger Martín proposed, he had missed to notice that he had never seen his brother as truly happy as he was him.

Well, Sergio's 100% redeemed in this telenova. Also, thank the Lord this asshole finally used his brains he known for.

“She’s with her uncles,” Raquel said, smugly, as she leaned back. “They took her to America, just sent us pictures, do you want to see?” 

🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣 I love a petty Raquel. Also I hc that Silene is grounded to her room with a black eye and a good beating 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣. Sergio tried to intervene but 1 glare made him back off

Tatiana laid bleeding out in Martín’s basement, alone.

Poetic justice, bruh, wonderful 👏👏👏

Also, please tell me they banged right in front of her or at the very least grossly made out 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣 cause I know they are petty like that.

Andres & Martin on their honeymoon😍😍😍 with Paula 🤣🤣🤣 to Disneyland?!

Beautiful, my sweet Paula got everything she needed 😚

Actually, everyone has a win win case

But, how do they manage to bang, tho? Okay, I hc that Martin payed a lovely staff member named Ariadna to take care of her for the night while they go at it.

So, here ends my review and THANK YOU FOR THE HAPPY ENDING

This is embarrassingly late, forgive me. Things have a been a little all over the place. But YES, one last time (It's still the last. The fact that it was the last like two weeks ago is not to be focused on.)

First, thank you so much, Kal. For this time and all the ones before it, this has meant so much.

I love the song. I'm so glad you finally got to use it since it just made my life better since seeing it dedicated to me. It's hilarious and I love it.

Onto the finale, one last time.

You're right to! Enough angst, they got their happy ending and we should celebrate that.

(And greetings to your lovely dog! He has been an essential part of this journey and he should know it!!)

Oh yeah, the Raquel and Andrés part was my absolute favourite so I'm very happy you found it beautiful!

YES. So proud of her.

Paula got all the rights!

Paula and Martín are a pair I didn't expect to enjoy so much, so it was a super pleasant surprise.

Yes! It's canon. (Spoiler: Martín put a curse on Andrés and that's why he died in the mint.)

Ahhh so happy you enjoyed their reconciliation. They deserve it.

Yes!! All my three couples get their happy endings. (Serquel too who got free babysitting for like 3 weeks or so)

Oh god yes, the kid has been through enough Martín.

Ahhhh, I got Sergio redeemed! I feel like my work is done in this fandom. Everything is good now.

Oh yes and she deserves to be pitty. Silene is definitely grounded. Sergio couldn't even open his mouth.

YES. Well, they would have. But something tells me Tatiana wouldn't mind it as much.

Everyone gets their happy ending!!! Actually, I meant to elaborate more, but time sorta of ran out. I was going to give Monica and Denver an on-screen wedding as well. Julia is Daniel's best woman and Agustin is the one who walks Monica down the aisle.

Thank you so much for the review!!

[jamesnbarnes]

your fiancé is a killer and you should be fucking ashamed of yourself for standing by him. the military and war itself are so glorified by americans on this hellsite. war is never a good thing. stop spreading your horrific lies

this is honestly the most horrific ask i’ve ever gotten. i don’t normally respond to stuff like this, but because of some of these comments, i feel compelled to respond. everything is adequately tagged in the #, and i’m putting this under a read more since it got long. since i’m addressing it here, i’m not addressing it anymore. 

if you have a huge problem with the fact that my fiancé a member of the military (even though i rarely ever talk about it except when i’m venting about the fact that he’s gone) then please just unfollow me. this is a very emotionally taxing conversation, and it’s not one i’d like to have more than once. thank you!

my fiancé is a junior enlisted member of the marine corps and he makes no money. he’d be the first person to admit that he does, at the very least, have job security, health insurance, and a steady paycheck, all of which are things that not many people have. he is always humble about his means and his role in the world. it’s best not to paint with a broad brush when it comes to topics such as these. some servicemembers are awful and do disrespect the uniform they wear, but justin is not one of them. he works every day to be better than he was the day before.

the military is glorified by the conservative right, but they never put their money where their mouth is. i have watched my father suffer for decades because the healthcare system for veterans is so horrific. he has attempted suicide. he has severe PTS. he doesn’t even have full benefits because the army won’t acknowledge the fact that he got his traumatic brain injury during one of his three separate combat deployments. they blame it on the year of football he played in college. it’s complete horse shit. i’ve watched my dad struggle deeply, and one day i have no doubt i will also watch justin struggle. they get more ‘attention’ upon retirement, but none of it is constructive. i have no idea if that made sense, but honestly i’m still fighting to speak coherently and productively and not just scream and yell like i wanted to when i first read this message.

i would honestly agree with your statement that war is never a good thing. it’s something i’ve thought very deeply about since i was kid with a dad in the army. i think war causes more problems than it solves. as far as my fiancé is concerned, however, it should be mentioned that he’s infantry. that means if (god forbid) the united states enters in to another armed conflict in the next six years, it will be his feet on the ground in combat. i don’t fucking want another war. i don’t want another war because it’s practically a goddamn death sentence for him. he’s the guy kicking in doors. that is literally his job. he would be one of the first people in a warzone or in a combat situation. if you know anything about combat or have ever seen a war movie, they’re the guys who are always hitting the floor first, dead.

the united states military has done a lot of fucked up things since it’s inception. i readily and wholeheartedly admit that the military complex is horrific and that if i had my way, i would rather him have ANY other job. i loved him long before he enlisted, and i will love him long after his contract is up. i stand by him because he is my best friend, and the love of my life, before he is a marine in my mind. the idea that i somehow enjoy war and conflict, or that i somehow want the united states to get involved in a war/area they have no interest being in is upsetting and insulting. if you knew me at all, or had ever held a conversation with me, i think you would consider me differently in that respect.

we are planning on getting married within the next few weeks. we cannot live together with him on active duty if we aren’t. if justin were to die right now, i would have no claim to anything of his. the military does not acknowledge the fact that he has someone at home waiting for him because we aren’t married. we cannot live like a normal couple without a marriage license. we have spent most of this year apart from one another. he is deploying soon and will be gone for pretty much all of 2018. he will miss an entire year of birthdays, celebrations, and fun. he is almost 21 years old. he could die tomorrow. i’m 20 years old. i could be a widow tomorrow. that is not something that most people our age are going through right now. this military spouse life is NOT easy. it is the hardest thing i’ve ever done in my goddamn life.

TL;DR: i readily acknowledge the fact that mistakes have been made historically. i don’t think i have ever lied or made a false statement. if i have, please take this as an open invitation to show me where i’m wrong so i can work to be better in the future. i am only human and i do make mistakes, but i try my hardest to own up to them so i can be a better person, a better citizen, and a better advocate.

if you have any more comments you’d like to make, come to me off anon so i can respond privately. thank you.

[elfnerdherder]

The Fault in My Code: Ch. 20

You can read Chapter 20 on Ao3 Here

Chapter 20: One Eye Blue, the Other Maroon

           The town their farmhouse was adjacent to had mostly elderly soulmates and a few young couples taking over the deeds to their families’ homes. Will and Hannibal fit right in with their mismatched eyes and their marriage certificate.

           Will made him change their names to something a little less obviously fake.

           “If I was looking for us, these names stand out like a god damn beacon,” he said, jabbing a finger down. “We’re not hiding away in Germany, Christ’s sake.”

           When his stitches were finally removed under the expert hand of Dr. Lecter, Will said thank you by grabbing him by the face and kissing him with a ravenous sort of hunger bordering on animalistic.

           That was when they discovered that organic olive oil made an excellent lubricant when one was in a pinch and overcome with a myriad of emotions in a kitchen.

           The next day was when Chiyoh decided that she was going to leave them to their own devices and found her way back to the Lecter estate in Lithuania where there was peace and a genuine level of absolute quiet.

-

           “I’m not sure, Dr. Falau, I just…what if the only reason we connected is because we’re both here and it’s convenient?”

           “Do you suppose that it makes it any less important?”

           “What if that’s the only reason?”

           “What if the only reason you went on a date with someone in a larger city is because they complimented the bow in your hair. Does that invalidate it?”

           The girl shifted in her chair, hand reaching up to brush against the bow Will mentioned. “It’d be more of a coincidence than-”

           “Soulmates aren’t fate,” Will assured her. “They are a chemical connection that your brain causes when it comes across something that it finds kinship with. Think of it as your subconscious noticing something about them that resonates within yourself. Your subconscious knows you far better than you do, yes?”

           “So then…I should give it a try?”

           “You can’t say whether or not it will work out simply because the two of you are soulmates, but it does build a foundation. It’s a choice to be with a soulmate, Greta. The difference between that and any other person is the body’s conscious decision beforehand to give you the advantage of being able to sense them.”

           “How long have you been with your soulmate, Dr. Falau?”

           A pause as he thought, fingers brushing against the scar still very much visible on his cheek. For anxious clients, it made them curious enough to break the ice. He hated the staring, though. “About ten months now.”

           “Was it easy?” she asked.

He looked at the space just below her eyes, where it’d appear like he was meeting her mismatched, one-blue-one-brown-gaze. “Oh, no,” he said without hesitation. “Not in the least.”

           “You’d say…it’s worth it, though?”

           “There is no definitive answer to that,” he replied, but as her expression fell, he continued, “however; I will say that there is no one in this world that understands me better than he does. In turn, I understand him. There have been studies to conclude that part of why soulmates even first began was mankind’s desire and need to connect. We fostered that connection through experiences together and decided to continue building that relationship through new experiences.”

           “She’s…what if we get to know one another, and in the end it’s not enough?”

           “Then you’re no worse off than before, aren’t you?” At her realization, he nodded knowingly. “Except, you’d have someone that would, at the very least, be a friend to you. There is nothing in the world that says a soulmate has to be a romantic relationship.”

           “Why did you leave the states to come here and work, Dr. Falau? Was it because of your soulmate?”

           Will smiled wryly, made a note at the bottom of his notepad. “In a manner of speaking, yes.”

           As she left and he closed down his small office, his hand passed along the back of the chair where she’d dug her shoulders in. She was scared of abandonment. She was scared to trust, to put herself in a position where all would be lost if she wasn’t enough. He felt her fears like a bad heat rash, and he left work, locking his office door behind him.

           He wandered through town, picked up a paper, made a call. Outside of a café, he idly bit his thumb and nodded in appreciation as it went to voicemail; it always went to voicemail. Once, he’d have thought that it was a sign he wasn’t welcome to call at all, until he got a voicemail back that asked if he was alright two weeks after he’d stopped making his calls.

           “Hey, Molly,” he murmured. “I was happy to see you dating someone. Two brown eyes like coffee beans. Diego, right? Diego. Yours are still two blues, and they look great.

           “I’m still working, getting a small established clientele. Same work, but it’s…better. I feel better about it. I don’t feel so…afraid.” He nodded to the barista that left him with a cup of straight black coffee, and he smiled a little. “Everything’s…fine here. Quiet. My head is quiet, and you used to tell me how loud it always got when I thought too much.

           “I’m happy you’re in California now, far away from everyone and everything. I hope things are quiet for you, too, and the shop you’re selling soaps in is doing okay. If you get orders from Beverly, let me know and I’ll toss in something, my treat. If Jack comes knocking, just close the door in his face.” He stirred cream into the coffee, sipped it. “You always wanted to slam a door in his face.

           “My kidney is fine, but I did get checked out at a real hospital to make sure everything was in order. Don’t worry about me; I’ve got a doctor on call.

           “Anyway, just…saying hello. Saying I’m sorry, like always. Saying I’m alive, and no one’s eaten me.” A beat. “Yet.” Bad humor. He tried again. “Saying, I think even though it hurt a lot, this was better for you in the long run, and maybe it was better for me, too. I think so, at least. You deserved more than what I could give.

           “Hope to hear from you soon.”

           He sat out in the late afternoon sun and enjoyed his cup of coffee and a bagel, fingers tapping lazily on the glass table. Usually it was about a week before he’d get a voicemail back, assuring him of her success and her life. Nothing slowed Molly down, least of all someone like Will. For that he was grateful, that no amount of his actions had ruined her –merely detained. Merely redirected.

           He checked his e-mail, found one from another familiar name.

Dr. Falau,

           Thank you for getting back to me so quickly. I’m interested in studying abroad, at your recommendation for my first year of graduate school, but I’m having a difficult time deciding exactly where I’d like to spend my semester. There is a lot of opportunity in France, although I’ve heard great things about Italy, too. What do you recommend, in your line of work? Soulmate studies have been my primary focus, although there are a lot of credits towards criminal psychology and forensics. I’ve been trying to keep my options open, but after your last post in the psychiatric journals, I thought you’d be the best to speak with and see the best options for me in the line of work that I want after school.

                                                                                      Thank you for your time,

                                                                                               -Abigail Hobbs

           It was a bit of a drive from the city to the farmhouse, but when he arrived he felt the familiar hum in his stomach that told him Hannibal was home from the hospital where he worked. There was another equally familiar tingling at the base of his spine that said he’d done something particularly exciting. Exciting. He marinated over the word, tossed it aside after a thought. Naughty. There, that was better.

           Hands massaged and worked over a set of lungs in the kitchen, and Will set his briefcase down at the small breakfast bar, eyeing them with extreme prejudice.

           “A good day at work?” Hannibal asked, intent on pressing and massaging the meat. Shirtsleeves were rolled up, exposing forearms and lending him the intense impression of a person deep in the throes of hard, manual work.

           “Was it in the city?”

           “Évreux,” he said genially. “Nowhere close to us.”

           Will hmm’d low in his throat and tossed his keys on the briefcase. “The crime?”

           “Does there have to be a crime?” Hannibal wondered. “Or will you enjoy a fine cooked meal, regardless?”

           “You said, ‘one must always strive to eat the rude, dear Will.’”

           “I didn’t say they were the only ones to eat,” Hannibal replied.

           “Hannibal-”

           “It was a rather rude pig,” Hannibal assured him. “Ran out into my car, squealed and promptly died where he stood.”

           “Fuck,” Will muttered, and he crossed over to the fridge, grabbing one of the bottles in the back. Hannibal made a beer crafted in wine barrels down in the basement. Will was more than content to let him have free reign of the basement, where all of his other hobbies lay. “Promptly died where he stood, you say.”

           “We may have stepped aside to discuss the ramifications of faking injuries for the sake of insurance claims.”

           “And you’re so prolific in speaking pig,” Will agreed. He walked behind him so that he could brush against his shoulder, the contact warming, reassuring. Grounding.

           “You could join me next time, you know,” Hannibal said. “I have a need for someone that knows how to knot fishing line.”

           Will toed the aged stone flooring with his shoe, shook his head. It was a topic of conversation that sometimes arose, when his darker thoughts took hold and the only person there to keep his head afloat was Hannibal. He’d held back though, refrained. Hannibal was his paddle out of dark places, not because Hannibal didn’t want him there, but because Will asked him to be. Truth be told, he had a mild weakness for Will saying ‘please’.

“The social worker that was abusing one of his cases got off due to mishandled evidence,” he said instead. “He walked free.”

           “The one hurting your friend, Peter Bernardone?”

           “Yes.”

           “What does that make you dwell on?” Hannibal asked. He lifted a knife and began cutting in swift, smooth strokes. “Nothing tasty, I’d imagine.”

           “Nothing tasty,” Will agreed.

           “A rather rude little pig, wouldn’t you say?”

           “…I’d say, ‘Let the law deal with him.’”

           “The law did deal with him, Will. The experience left you wanting, a breath not-quite taken in full.”

           “It’s fine,” Will said. “I think the people down the road at the church left a pamphlet on the door that said ‘Let God Handle It.’ If not the law, then God, I figure.”

           “God recently dropped an airplane with 124 people on it out of the sky just two days ago; I’m sure he’d let you have Clark Ingram.”

           Of course Hannibal remembered his name, although Will had only mentioned it once. “Clark Ingram is a pig,” Will said slowly, “but I don’t know if he’s the kind of pig I want.”

           A quiet hum of assent. “Let me know if you change your mind, dear Will.” At Will’s short, curt nod, he smiled slightly, a flash of incisors. “Freddie Lounds spotted us in Scotland today.”

           “That lousy-” Will’s voice broke off, and he gripped his pint tightly. “Is she still calling us…that…”

           “Murder husbands?”

           “Lousy, lying shit,” he swore. Raked hands through his hair, scrubbed the back of his neck.

           “I was riveted by her use of prose in our murderous entanglements,” Hannibal said, watching him move about agitatedly. He tossed the cubed lungs into the pan and began searing them, the hissing and spitting of the meat drowning out most of Will’s curses.

           “Out of anyone in the world, I’d-”

           “Yes?” Hannibal prompted serenely, tilting the pan.

           “…Across the god damn world and she’s still running her piece of shit articles,” he finished. Redirected. “I can’t be drugged and dragged through Canada and across the ocean in peace, not while she’s alive.”

           “A shame the Great Red Dragon didn’t go after her instead of Chilton,” Hannibal drawled. “Then again, you put your hand on his shoulder, not hers.”

           That stopped Will. Made him look around at Hannibal with an expression twisted between disgruntled fury and a flicker of something mildly resembling shame. Not his proudest moment, although one of his most calculating. He’d woken many nights with the sensation of fire just underneath his skin, Chilton’s lipless curses hot in his ears. It’d taken a lot of whispered reassurances, promises that he was Will Graham and not Frederick Chilton before the embers had faded off of his charred skin, before blackened skin faded to red, faded to a tan found only on those that wore suits to work for a living.

            Mornings after nights like that, Hannibal always played music in the small, antique parlor towards the back of the house while Will lay on the rug, hands pressed over his eyes. Hannibal never pitied him, though. He said the most beautiful thing that Will had that Hannibal didn’t was his ability to both be the sculptor and the beaten stone. Will would press his hands harder to his eyes and begrudgingly agree. There was something beautiful in the broken, something delicious in the damned.

           “Dr. Chilton’s skin grafts came along nicely,” Hannibal told him, a peace offering.

           “…Good,” he managed.

           Lung and loin bourguignonne for dinner, and a pint of beer aged in a chardonnay barrel. Will savored it, savored the sensation that only one glass was enough. He also savored that his plate contained lung from a cow, not from a pig.

           He tinkered in the living room, spread out along the floor beside a boat motor and his tools. Hannibal read a book nearby, a pretentious copy of Les Trois Mousquetaires in one hand and a glass of Malbec in the other. Anytime Will let out a particularly curt grunt or curse, he’d glance up from his book, take a sip of his drink.

           “Mr. Petit will be thankful you’re putting so much work into his engine,” Hannibal noted after a particularly loud curse.

           “He’s going to let me fish in the lake.”

           “Your true motives revealed.”

           “I think we should get a dog,” said Will, setting down a wrench and scratching his cheek. He felt the oil smear, knew that the longer it sat there the more agitated Hannibal would become before he’d find some excuse or other to pass by and wipe it off with the spare rag Will kept somewhere nearby. “Petit said he saw a stray roaming around, no tags.”

           “I was thinking of Florence,” Hannibal replied. He set his glass down on the end table.

           “So soon?”

           “I promised you Florence.”

           “They allow dogs in Florence,” Will pointed out. He grabbed a washer and ducked back down to fumble with a screw. “Molly and I were going to get a dog a year ago, before Jack turned up.”

           “I’m flattered that what took years for you to want with Molly merely took months with me,” Hannibal said with a smile. “How is she?”

           Will didn’t miss the flicker of mild distaste at his own question. While he didn’t condemn Will for calling, he didn’t approve, either. He was of the assumption that sooner or later she was going to take all of his voicemails and deliver them to Jack with a hand-written note on just how to find them based off of context clues. Will figured he knew Molly better than Hannibal did, and that was that.

           “Good.”

           “And Abigail?”

           “She’s…going to study abroad. She was debating which country to look at, where to stay, which school she’d attend.” Will gave Hannibal a meaningful look, peeking up from the engine. “She asked my opinion on France or some other place.”

           “…You’d overrun my house with strays,” Hannibal murmured.

           “Our house,” Will corrected.

           “Our home.”

           They considered one another, small, bare hints of smiles at the edges of their lips. Will broke eye contact and glanced to the motor, twisting a screw into place.

           “They’d be house broken,” he commented.

           “If it’s within the next Fall semester, tell her Florence,” Hannibal decided.

           “Is that a suggestion to look into referrals for my clients?”

           “You don’t have to go with me,” Hannibal reminded him.

           Will busied himself with wiping small traces of grease off of his fingers with the rag nearby. “You’re not abandoning me in France. I hardly speak French.”

            Among other things, like how he’d probably have to quit Hannibal from his system like a drug if he left and Will didn’t follow, the shaking and the aches enough to bruise muscle and break bone. Like how he’d grown so accustomed to being able to have in-depth conversations with the most minimal of words and gestures, someone that saw without having to see, someone that knew without having to know. Like how he was most entirely sure that he was in love with the bastard, and there wasn’t enough time in the world for him to be able to articulate that in just the right way. He’d tried, but most of the time it was during moments where words weren’t enough, where no matter what he could have said, waxing eloquent or simplistically stated, it didn’t quite cover just how much he felt.

           That, and he was abysmal at speaking French.

           “What words you do say sound wonderful, though,” Hannibal praised. There was just enough of a dry note to make Will grimace, tossing the rag down.

           “I think I’d speak Italian better.”

           “With the way you shape your vowels in conjugations, I’d certainly agree.”

           It was settled. Abigail would visit them in Florence in the fall.

           After, as he changed into pajamas, he watched Hannibal watching him through the mirror in the master bedroom. One eye blue, the other maroon.

           “Are you just going to look?” he taunted quietly.

           “My eyes naturally seek you out in a room, despite my attentions to my reading or my work. Is that normal, Dr. Graham?” Hannibal walked over and slid his hands around his waist, tugging him flush against his chest.

           “A side-effect of being soulmates,” Will managed. Hannibal dipped his head down, nose gliding along the line of his neck, lips pausing at the artery where his pulse beat steadily.

           “Looking would be enough, you know,” Hannibal murmured against his skin conversationally. He pressed a deliberate, gentle kiss to the hollow of his throat. Will once tried to call him out on that, but he’d come to learn that Hannibal practically drowned in aesthetics, and Will was his favorite tableau.

           “Maybe for you.”

           He kissed him with a hunger, and Hannibal responded in kind. They made their way back towards the bed, and when Hannibal fell backwards onto it, Will followed, poised over him with a wicked gleam in his eyes. He wanted to touch; he wanted to touch.

           “This is purely chemical, you know,” he said casually, tugging Hannibal’s shirt over his head. It was tossed, forgotten somewhere on the floor. They’d retrieve it later –maybe not. Maybe much, much later, after the sun had risen and Hannibal roused him from bed with a cup of coffee.

           “So is love; so is anger, so is pain, dear Will,” Hannibal murmured against his lips. Will’s top was removed with far better finesse, fingers dancing down his spine to rest at the small of his back where hips were guided down to wanting flesh. Hannibal rolled over with him, pinning him down with his weight as a dexterous hand glided along the waistband of his bottoms, plucking teasingly. “It doesn’t lessen its importance.”

           And as he got drunk off of his kisses, the way their hearts beat in time as everything was made to feel right, Will figured that no, it very well didn’t.

           He chose Hannibal, and Hannibal chose him. Somehow, it was more romantic that way.

[neighbourskid]

Future?

(original date: 06 May 2017)

People keep asking me what I want to do with my degree, why I’m studying English and Art History. I’ve been asked this question so many times, I lost count. When I was in grammar school, people asked me what I wanted to do afterwards, what I wanted to study. When I was in secondary school, people urged me to go look at jobs so I could go into an apprenticeship afterwards. Other people urged me to go to grammar school. In the end, I repeated a grade so I could go to grammar school without having to do the entry exam. Why? Because I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life. Or too many ideas. When I was in primary school, my best friend wanted to be a marine biologist. I had no real interest in marine biology. Nevertheless, in primary school I wanted to be a marine biologist when I grew up.

See, I never really thought about myself much when I was a child. I didn’t live much into the future, I always lived in the moment. Of course, I looked forward to things. Like seeing my dad again the next weekend. Or that holiday that we were planning for a while now. Or going to the swimming pool next summer.

I remember my mom telling me once that she always thought I would be too dependent on my brother. My brother and me, we’re pretty close, I think. We weren’t the “typical” siblings that fight a lot because they are siblings. Of course, we had our rows, but I think most of the time we’ve been kind to each other. I think what played a lot into that, is that we’re only 18 months apart. We were the same height for a while and some people even thought we were twins. We also shared a lot of interests, I guess. Our parents never forced me into this typical girl role. Of course, when I was four, I think, my godfather gave me a doll for Christmas. I burst into tears upon seeing it. The next year he got me police cars. My mom and I always had our fights over clothes, but she never really forced me to wear dresses or exceedingly girly things, if I didn’t want to.

Our parents treated my brother and me pretty much the same. When my brother got a gameboy for Christmas that one year, I got one as well. I wasn’t forced into liking super girly things, and I don’t think my brother was forced into being super manly. I’m sure, if I were interested in STEM fields (or good at them anyway), my parents would support me in studying in them. I’m sure if my brother would’ve wanted to, I don’t know, be a professional dancer? They would have supported him.

I never really thought much about what I wanted to be when I grew up, though. My brother knew very early on that he wanted to make games and now, several years later, he studies game design. He’s there.

People keep asking me what I want to do with my degree, and honestly? I have no fucking idea. When I graduated secondary school I went to grammar school because I didn’t know what I wanted to do in my life, who I wanted to be. When I graduated grammar school, I tried working for a year, because I didn’t really know what to study yet. I was unemployed for the better bit of a year. I’ve started studying English at university last summer. I am in my second semester now and in one month it’s already finished again. I have 4 semesters left getting my Bachelor at this university. What I want to do with my degree? Not the faintest idea.

Okay, well, that is not quite true. I know what I would like to do with my life, and I suppose my English degree is only helping me achieve that. But it’s not an obvious final destination for that degree. My peers will become teachers or work in advertising, PR, as linguists or do research. Me? I have seemingly unachievable dreams.

When I was in 6th grade, I wanted to be a mangaka, I wanted to draw mangas for a living. I even had the presentation we had to have about jobs about mangakas. My teacher criticized that it was a somewhat invented job (joke’s on you, Mrs W, every job was invented at some point). I soon dropped that dream because I found out just how little life mangakas have once they’ve managed to produce something worthwhile. At the same time that I got into mangas, I also got into fan created stuff related to that. I scrolled through pages beyond pages of fanart, I read some good and a lot of really crappy fanfics, and when that wasn’t enough anymore, little me, who had no computer at that point, started to handwrite fanfiction myself. Handwrite. On paper. Or when we weren’t at home, I wrote them in unsent text messages on my crappy old phone that didn’t have a note application yet. I still have a box full of pages scribbled full with ideas and stories I wrote when I was probably about twelve.

I’ve been writing stories for nearly ten years now. I started in German but from 8th grade on, I wrote in English as well, and once I was in grammar school, English was the only language I wrote in. That’s why I’m studying English. I want to improve my English. Make it flawless. Exercise that muscle, write as much and as often as I can. If I could be a writer, I would take it in a heartbeat. It’s not easy and not something you can study at university, but at least I can study something to help me with my writing.

What I tell when people ask me what I want to do with my degree? Sometimes that, sometimes not, because it’s not all of it. I don’t know if being a writer is the one thing that I want. Especially, what kind of writer do I want to be? That question ties into one of my other dreams.

This might be obvious, but I love movies. I absolutely love going to the cinema, I love the experience of it, sitting in a room with a handful of strangers (sadly, nowadays it isn’t more), experiencing the same thing and leaving the cinema, not as strangers, but as a collective, as a group, as people who have something in common, who have experienced something together. I love that. But I also enjoy watching movies alone at home. I do it all the time. I love watching tv series. Getting into that excitement of what will happen next. Of course, I always whine about how I have to wait a week when I’m caught up with a show and can’t just binge-watch through it all, but it’s actually a very good feeling. You get to think about it for a while and then (hopefully) get the answers to your questions. What I love about the cinematic media, is that it can make you think. It can give you questions, make you reevaluate opinions you had, thoughts you had, knowledge you thought you possessed. Movies have done so much for me. I’ve learned so much about myself through movies and tv shows. I come out of the cinema inspired, ready to go and change the world. I watch interviews or panels from conventions, I hear actors and directors and writers tell stories about their work in the film industry, about their experiences, their life and I… I feel so inspired by that. These wonderful, beautiful, intelligent people create worlds out of thin air, out of nothing, and kids, teenagers, adults, so many different people see these movies and get inspired, they are touched by it. That is so beautiful!

I am so often inspired by movies and I see what they have done for me and I…. I want to give that back. To pay that forward. I know that there are a lot of kids out there who are like me, who find themselves in movies, and I would like to give this back to them. To create things that inspire them. Make a movie that will change their life. That’s what I want. I want to inspire people. Give back to them what the film industry has given me.

Do I want to be an actor? I don’t know. Maybe. I’d have to try it out. I don’t… I don’t actually really care that much what I’d do, I just know I would want it to be there. I would happily bring cast and crew coffee every morning if it meant I would be part of something bigger, something that will someday inspire someone to do great things.

Right now I feel like going into screenwriting would be my number one choice. It has film and writing combined. It also helps that my brain usually comes up with story ideas in cinematic from rather than written. It’s hard writing a scene in a book when your brain supplies things like “establishing shot backed with lord of the rings style music” when you can’t actually write music into your book.  So yeah, I think screenwriting is my choice at the moment.

Why I don’t tell that to people when they ask me what I want to do with my English degree? Because they look at you like you’re a crazy nutcase or a poor child with a dream that will never come true. I know, I live in a small ass country not even close to where I want to be. I know I still have a long way to go. But why look at me like I’m mad? Didn’t you ever have dreams? Did you not want to go out there and change the world? I can not and will not believe that your dream has always been sitting in a stinking office from 9 to 5, typing numbers into a computer and whining about how crappy the coffee in the cafeteria is. If it is, then good for you and your mediocre life. If you gave up on your dream? That sucks, man, and I’m sorry. But please stop shitting on my dream.

I’ve always been a dreamer and I will never not be one. So what do you care if my dream seems unachievable? It’s not your dream. What do you care if I fly too close to the sun? It’s my own damn problem if I fall, not yours.

So please, I ask you kindly, if you feel like asking me what I want to do with my English degree with that wonderful undertone that screams ‘you should’ve chosen some other degree’? Fuck off.