#i suppose ill post them every once in a while

[mandos-mind-trick]

Warm Me Up

Summary: A freak storm has you and Hunter seeking shelter in a cave. The desperation to get warm has some hidden feelings coming to light.

Pairing: Hunter x reader

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, unprotected sex, fingering, confession of feelings, snow storms, almost freezing to death (not really but close), hypothermia, survival skills, cuddling for warmth, fucking to survive, cock warming (literally and figuratively), post Order 66, bit of an AU

A/N: I am once again bringing you Hunter and reader fucking to survive only under different circumstances. I have been in a Hunter mood lately so you are welcome.

Thank you @starrylothcat for the idea for this one.

MASTERLIST

It’s cold. 

The wind whips around you, finding every crack and crevice in your armor, numbing your skin. The storm had blown in out of nowhere, whipping big, wet snowflakes at you on a wind so strong it was hard to stand up straight. It’s a near whiteout, and even Hunter is struggling to break trail in front of you. 

He stops, turning to look at you a couple feet behind him, half to make sure you’re still following him. “There’s a cave up ahead.” He says, voice barely audible over the wind through the comms. 

Your fingers are going numb. You’d lost feeling in your feet not long after the storm started, already having been trekking through ankle deep snow. “Lead the way, Sarge.” You mumble, trying to convince your legs to start moving again. 

It’s slow moving for the few hundred yards until you see the mountainside jutting out in the blizzard. As you get closer, you can see the dark opening of the mouth of the cave like a monster waiting to devour you. You hope that’s not the case, but you suppose a monster’s mouth would be warmer than out here. 

You follow Hunter inside, the torch in his hand illuminating the small cavern. It’s not very wide, your shoulders would probably touch the walls if you stood side by side, but it’s deep enough to keep you from the howling wind outside. 

You’re shivering, teeth chattering as you stand in the dark cave. The storm was blocking your comms, preventing you from reaching the Marauder. This was supposed to be a quick mission, which was why you and Hunter had gone alone, leaving the others with the ship. Tech had assured you both the weather was going to be clear for the foreseeable future. 

You’re going to have words with him when you get back. 

“Kriff, it’s cold.” Hunter says, scanning the back of the cave before determining it clear. 

He turns back around, his torch illuminating your shivering figure. Neither of you had real cold weather gear, and Hunter’s armor was better protection against it than yours. 

“How are your toes?” He asks, stepping closer. 

“Numb.” You say, voice muffled by the scarf wrapped around your face. 

“And your fingers?” He asks. 

You lift your hands, fingers fumbling in an attempt to get your gloves off. He shines the torch on your exposed extremities as soon as they hit the floor, a curse crackling through his helmet. Your fingers are discolored and stiff, trembling as more shivers wrack your body. 

“We need to get warm.” He says, pulling you back towards the back of the cave. “We won’t last the night at this rate.” 

“H-How do we do that?” You stutter out between your chattering teeth. You were both ill prepared for this situation. 

“Take your clothes off.” 

You’re glad the cave is dark as the words leave Hunter’s mouth, the torch pointing at the wall as he removes his pack. You’re worried you may start steaming in embarrassment from the direct order. 

You’ve been harboring a crush on him for a while. It started during one of your first missions with them. Of course, you thought he was handsome when you first met him, but you didn’t start developing feelings until he saved your life. You were relatively new to combat, though fighting wasn’t anything new, and you had failed to see the explosive at your feet. Hunter had pulled you out of the way and shielded you with his body. 

He’d had his helmet on, but you couldn’t forget the way his hand felt on your arm, the way he looked hovering over you. You thought about it a lot. You still do. 

You had fallen in love with him after the war ended, and he had willingly gone toe-to-toe with Tarkin to keep you on the squad. Tarkin had wanted to reassign you, but Hunter had insisted you were part of Clone Force 99 and they wouldn’t be as efficient without you. 

You hadn’t dared act on it, though. He was technically your superior and you were not about to try pushing those boundaries. Plus, he’d never shown any interest in you in that way, and the last thing you wanted was to do was make things awkward. 

You also just haven’t had time. 

Between the Empire and deserting and being on the run and adjusting to having a literal child on board, you had little downtime for much else. You know Hunter’s stressed and has been feeling the effects of trying to keep everyone alive and deciding what to do next. 

The last thing you want to do is throw your feelings on him too. 

And now here he is, asking you to get naked in a cave with him. 

“What?” You stutter out, looking up at him, his face barely visible. He’s removed his helmet.

“Our clothes are wet. We can’t get warm wearing wet clothes. We’ll risk hypothermia, or worse.” He explains, his helmet hitting the ground with a thud. “Seeing as how we don’t know how long this storm will last and if we’ll be able to reach the Marauder by comm when it does end, getting warm is our priority.” 

His voice is so steady, so strong, reflecting every bit of the leader he is. 

This is moving much faster than you had expected. You’d thought maybe a nice dinner, or a walk on the beach, at least something before your clothes started coming off. Of course, survival was different. You would like to keep your toes if possible. 

Your numb fingers fumble to get your pack off as Hunter turns his back, digging through his pack. You’re glad for the darkness and the privacy as you tug at your own armor, fingers fumbling with clasps and straps as you slowly drop pieces onto the ground. 

You pause as Hunter turns slightly, putting something on the floor. The cave lights with a soft yellow glow of a heat lamp, a sigh of relief leaving your mouth. So you weren’t going to freeze completely. The walls of the cave glitter with frost, your breath visible in the air as you continue to strip out of your armor. 

You hesitate once your armor is off, staring at Hunter’s back. He’s making slow work of his armor, setting each piece in a pile next to his pack. You’ve watched them carefully stack their armor over and over. They always show it such reverence, though you suppose if it is your lifeline and one of your few belongings, you would treat it as such too. They always stack it in a way that would be quickest to get it back on and you can’t help but wonder if they practiced it. How fast can they get in and out of their armor if the need arose? 

You bend over your pack, fumbling through its contents before your fingers hit what you’re looking for. One of the spare GAR blankets that came in each survival kit the squad carried. Working separate from larger battalions meant you had to carry more supplies with you for situations like this one. 

You could cry as you pull the scratchy blanket from your pack. 

You would cry, except that it feels like all liquid is frozen in your body. 

You hesitate, eyeing Hunter’s back before you begin peeling your wet blacks off, goosebumps forming on your skin as it's exposed to the cold air in the cave. You fight off a shiver, shuffling closer to the heat lamp as you peel the rest off. You quickly wrap the blanket around your body, squatting down in front of the heat lamp. You can already feel the warmth from them on your exposed skin, toes starting to tingle. 

Your eyes move to Hunter, his back still turned to you. You swallow thickly as he tugs the top of his blacks over his head, revealing his back. Your eyes trail the tattoo on the right side until it disappears under his blacks. You’ve seen them all in various states of undress before. It was impossible in a confined space like the barracks or the Marauder. 

There had never been any insinuation, no lingering stares when you’d done a quick change. They were always so respectful, always so kind. 

You felt bad for ogling them sometimes. 

You quickly tuck your face in the blanket as Hunter tugs his pants down, praying you don’t start steaming. You want to look, you so badly want to look, but the last thing you need is to get caught being a creep. 

Hunter moves closer to you, spreading something on the ground behind you. You nearly jump as his hand touches your back, warm through the blanket against your cold skin. He’s squatting next to you, very close to you as you peek out from your blanket. 

“Do you trust me?” He asks, those stupid big, brown eyes shining in the low light from the heat lamp. 

You stare at him for a moment before you nod. He pulls the blanket from the death grip you have around it, eyes never leaving yours as he opens it up, slipping his arms inside. His bare skin meets yours, turning you until your back is to his chest. He maneuvers you so easily so you’re laying on the blanket he had spread on the ground, curling his body around yours before draping your blanket across you both. 

He sighs as he settles into place, his hand trailing down your arm. His hand is calloused from years of hard training, rough against your frigid skin. “Kriff, you’re freezing.” He murmurs, pulling you tighter against his chest. 

Your breath hitches as his skin meets yours, cold but not nearly as frozen as yours. You can feel every ridge of muscle, every line, every divot of his body. You can feel all of him. You try not to think about it, try not to picture every fantasy you’ve had, every daydream of being in this very position with him. 

Instead you focus on your shivering, the chill slowly abating as your shared warmth cumulates under the blanket. You can feel the heat lamp on your face, slowly thawing your frozen cheeks. You can also feel Hunter’s breath fanning over the top of your head. 

You let your eyes drift closed, trying to avoid the thoughts racing through your head. You’re naked. Hunter’s naked. You’re very, very close. You’ve imagined this moment many, many times. Of course, it’s always under different circumstances. Normally in your fantasies, he’d hold you like this after you fucked, or on those short trips between missions when you try to get as much rest as possible. In the deeper fantasies you wake in his arms in your quiet home, the early morning light shining through the window. You’d grind against him, teasing him until he slipped inside you, making sweet love to you as you have all the time in the world, and no cares whatsoever. 

Heat begins to bloom in your belly. You know it’s not just from the warmth beginning to return to you. You desperately fight it, trying to ignore the pulsing between your legs and instead focus on the roaring of the wind outside the cave, the painful throbbing in your toes, the scratchiness of the blanket, anything. 

Hunter shifts just slightly behind you, letting out a long breath. Kriff, he can probably smell it. He could probably smell it before your body even started reacting. He knows. He knows. 

You shift slightly, ignoring the way your thighs slide a little too easily against each other. “Sorry.” You breathe, nervously tugging on the edge of the blanket. 

He hums, his fingers trailing down your front. He presses his palm against your belly, causing your breath to hitch. He shifts his legs and suddenly there’s something pressing against your ass. Something hard. “Nothing to apologize for, mesh’la.” He murmurs in your ear, his voice so low and deep you can feel it vibrating through your back. 

"Hunter?" You ask, staring at the heat lamp. 

He hums, pressing closer to you, his breath fanning your ear. 

Your breath catches in your throat, your exhale shaky. "I'm still cold. Could you warm me up a little more?"

His arms wrap tighter around you, pulling you firmly against him as his lips meet the skin of your neck. He kisses a line from your ear to the junction of your shoulder, the hand that had been planted on your stomach slowly sliding lower. It slips between your thighs, grabbing one and lifting it over his hip. Your hands cling to the arm wrapped around you as he slides his fingers down your inner thigh. Your body is shivering for a different reason now. 

You gasp quietly as his fingers trail over your wet slit, hips pushing into his hand. It’s so much better than your fantasies, those dexterous fingers flicking over your clit. 

“All this just for me?” He murmurs in your ear, his voice low and rough. 

“Yes,” You gasp, nails biting into his skin as he works you up. “Been thinking of this for a long time.” 

“I know.” He says, sinking a finger into you. “I could sense it. At first I could smell it. I always wondered what you were thinking about.” He slips a second finger into you. “Didn’t take long to figure it out.” He kisses the side of your head. “Your heart rate would jump. Sometimes I’d smell it while you were looking at me. I was flattered. A gorgeous woman like you thinking about me like that.” 

You wiggle in his arms, just enough so you can see his face. “Why didn’t you say anything?” 

He pauses his movements, his fingers stilling inside you. “Didn’t want to complicate things. Then everything happened with the Empire and I just haven’t had the right moment.” 

“Fair.” You say, eyes dropping to his lips. “Not a whole lot of places to do things like this in the ship.” 

He grins. “No, especially not with the others there.” His thumb brushes over your clit, fingers starting to thrust into you once more. “I’m going to find us a safe place to stay.” He says, words broken by kisses as he trails them up your neck. “Build us a home with lots of privacy.” He kisses across your face to the corner of your lips. “So we can do this whenever we want.” 

You hum, backing away from his lips before he can kiss you. “Usually I require a date first, but I’ll make an exception.” 

“I’ll make it up to you.” He says, lips brushing yours as he speaks. “I promise.” 

You close the small distance between you, pressing your lips to his. He kisses you softly, lips slightly chapped from the cold. His fingers continue to move inside you, curling to find that spot that has your legs shaking. His thumb circles your clit, bringing you closer and closer to sweet release. 

You whine against his lips as you cum around his fingers, soaking his hand with your release. He pulls away from your lips, withdrawing his hand before he lifts his fingers, taking them into his mouth. You watch, slack-jawed as he sucks his fingers clean. 

“Fuck buying me dinner,” You say, rolling around to face him. “If you’re gonna act like that you can skip all those steps.” 

He laughs, rolling on top of you. It’s a mirror of the moment you first began to have feelings, when he’d saved your life. You suppose he also saved your life again in this situation. Perhaps he needs to save your life more often if it’s going to end with him on top of you. 

He lowers himself down, pressing his lips to yours once more. You kiss him hard, tangling a hand in his hair. You’ve always wanted to touch it, always wanted to run your fingers through it, pull on it to see if it makes him moan. You file that away for another day. 

He’s hard, pressed against your stomach. His hips rock against you, dragging his cock along your skin. You slide your hands down his back, grabbing a handful of his ass. You’ve always wanted to grab it, having spent way too much time memorizing the shape of his body. His broad shoulders and thin waist and round ass and thick thighs. 

He really is the perfect man. 

“Fuck,” He moans, pulling away from your lips to press himself up. 

He’s away just long enough to line his cock up, your legs parting even wider for him. You both moan as he sinks into you, your sensitive walls fluttering around the intrusion. You pull him back against you, securing him tightly to your chest. His lips find yours again, kissing and biting as he begins to move. 

His thrusts are slow, working you open for him. It feels better than you could ever imagine, better than your fantasies could come up with. You’re no longer cold, even your toes warmed by his body and his touch. The air in the cave even feels warm, the blizzard outside nothing compared to the fire ignited beneath your skin at Hunter’s touch. 

You move your hips as he picks up speed, your bodies moving fluidly together. You let go, moaning as loud as you can. You don’t care if you accidentally wake some beast deep in the mountains. You want the whole galaxy to know how good Hunter makes you feel. 

Hunter grunts and moans above you, snapping his hips into you. You cling onto him as you begin to feel the burning low in your stomach, the coil tightening more and more as you get closer and closer to the edge. 

“Cum for me.” Hunter growls, nipping at your lower lip. “Let me feel you.”

You cry out his name as you cum, back arching in pleasure. He’s not far behind you, his head falling back as he stutters to a stop, filling you with his cum. You let him fall on top of you, wrapping your arms around him. 

He lays there, both of you catching your breaths. He’s heavy, a solid weight, but you don’t complain. He’s warm, and he makes you feel safe. He kisses your neck, tongue darting out to taste the salty skin. He groans, already starting to go hard inside you again. 

***

You wake to a bright light in your eyes. You squint, ducking your head down under the blanket. Hunter groans, shifting his arms around you. It’s quiet outside, far quieter than it had been last night. 

“Storms over.” Hunter rasps, not making any attempt to move. 

He’s still inside you, his softened cock tucked inside your pussy. You’d fallen asleep after the third round, the exhaustion finally taking over after you were thoroughly warmed. You don’t really want to get up. You don’t really want to move. You know the others have to be worried, after all you hadn’t been able to contact them after the storm blew in. You’re not even sure how far you are from the Marauder. 

It may be a bit selfish, but you wish you could stay here. Build yourselves a tiny home in this cave and never leave. Just the two of you, alone, like your fantasies had once consisted of. 

You know it’s not possible now. You couldn’t abandon the others like that, and you could never convince Hunter to abandon Omega, not that you would ever want to. You’ll just have to find a place to build a big enough house for all of you. 

“We should get up.” Hunter says, still not making any attempts to move. “The others will be worried.” 

You hum, pressing a kiss to his chest. “Five more minutes?” 

He chuckles, lifting your chin so he can kiss you. “I suppose five minutes won’t hurt anything.” 

Taglist:

@rosechi @bobaprint @star-trekker-0013 @wolffegirlsunite @jedi-hawkins @sinfulsalutations @freesia-writes @littlemissmanga @clio3kantarella @eris-k @thorsterstrudle @idontgetanysleep @anxiouspineapple99 @clonemedickix @moonlightwarriorqueen @sleepingsun501 @dystopicjumpsuit @wings-and-beskar @blueink-bluesoul @starrylothcat @523rdrebel @thrawnspetgoose @originalcollectionartistry @gwalchmai2970 @maddiedrmr @sunshinesdaydream @mooncommlink @deejadabbles @starqueensthings @multi-fan-dom-madness @wizardofrozz @mythical-illustrator

#star wars #star wars fic #the bad batch #the bad batch fic #tbb hunter x reader #bad batch hunter x reader #x reader #clone thirsting

[shmaptainwrites]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐀 [𝐉𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐒𝐎𝐍]

PAIRINGS — James Wilson x ex-wife!Reader

SUMMARY — James and Reader have not been on great terms since their divorce, but an emerging situation with their son forces them to put aside their differences and work together and hope that past feelings don't resurface

WARNINGS — hospitalization, chronic illness, swearing, complicated feelings (idk y'all they're divorced what more can I say)

NOTE — Okay so I have so many things to say about this fic, but if I say them all this post will be way too long it already is like this came up as 33 pages in my docs but this is a day late birthday present for @shots-of-wilson-and-whiskey who also provided the James pic I hope you had such a fun day and a great year of simping ahead!

Pronounciation — Mahlet = Ma-h-let | Hennock = Hey-knock

Ever since you had become a mother, birthday parties were the bane of your existence. The sugar overload, the loud noises, the cleanup afterwards, all amounted to your own personal hell. Yet, you would move hell or high water for your son to have the most enjoyable party every single year. 

Today was no different, eight years later you were still breaking your back to ensure every small detail was perfect, from the pin the spikes on the stegosaurus to the cake you’d spent at least a month painstakingly training to make. 

A friend of yours, another parent from the school your son Julian went to, came over in the kitchen to give you a hand with some of the snacks. 

“How are you managing here?” she asked and you took a deep breath. 

“Managing is the operative word,” you chuckled. “Kids having fun out there?” 

“Yeah, loads, you’ve outdone yourself again,” she assured you. “Will James be making an appearance?” 

“I stopped asking myself that question after we got divorced,” you said while fixing the plate of vegetables and dip. “He’s supposed to, he promised Julian, but we all know how that ends.” 

There seemed to be a bit of commotion out in the backyard and you tried to assess what was happening from the window, but your suspicions that something was off was confirmed when Julian’s best friend, Hennock, came rushing inside.

“Mrs. Wilson, something’s going on with Julian,” he said and you frowned while your friend followed you outside to see the kids circling around Julian who seemed to be gripping onto his chest. 

“Jay, what’s going on? Are you okay?” you bent down to be closer to his eye-level, trying to understand what was happening to your son. 

“Can’t…” he pointed to his mouth. “Can’t…breathe,” he wheezed. 

Your eyes went wide, but before you could grab him and run for the car he began to cough and you hoped and prayed there was just something caught in his throat that would make its way out, but with the coughing came spatters of red all over your white shirt.

“Mahi,” you looked over at your friend quickly while picking Julian up. You didn’t have to say a word, she already knew what she needed to do. 

Living close to the hospital, it was worth it to drive yourself, that way you didn’t have to wait for an ambulance to get to you. You had made the mental calculations many times before, just in case there was an emergency and now it was finally coming in handy. 

When you got Julian in the car, you checked in on his breathing, it was still laboured, but at least at this point he was getting in the air, even if he was coughing up blood. 

You turned on the car and began driving while calling your ex-husband with one hand. The line rang until you reached voicemail so you called again, expecting at least this time for him to pick up, only to hear the tone once more. 

“Dammit James!” you threw your phone down on the seat next to you knowing you’d deal with him later, now you needed to focus on getting to the hospital without killing either of you. 

Barely paying attention to how your car was parked, you grabbed Julian out of the back seat and ran into the ER with him. 

“Ma’am, what’s going on?” a nurse came and asked you as you put Julian down. 

“My son, he-he’s having trouble breathing and he’s coughing up blood I-I-I don’t know what’s happening.” 

Before you could say a word they had whisked Julian away and another nurse came to ask you some questions about his medical history and any information that may be important to the doctors treating him. 

“Where’s my son?” you asked, “I want to see my son.” 

“Ma’am I’m sorry, but the doctors are working on getting his airway cleared, you can’t be with him right now.” 

You pressed your lips into a thin line and bit back your tongue. There were a million and one things you wanted to say to the nurse, but none of them would help your situation. On the other hand, finding your ex might. 

So instead of finding the waiting room you went over to the elevator and made your way up to the oncology department, briskly walking through the halls until you reached his office. At this point, you didn’t bother knocking, opening the door to see him sitting down over a file and talking with House. 

“Hey Greg,” you said in a fake cheery voice. “Mind giving us the room?” 

“Oh, this is the wife with the kid, did you forget to pay child support?” House asked James. 

“Get out, Greg,” you said warningly and he listened, instead opting to steal the rest of James’ sandwich and slipping past you, while wishing James good luck and letting you slam the door shut behind you. 

“What’s going on?” James asked, clearly confused by your demeanour and appearance. “If this is about the party I didn’t forget I was-wait is that blood,” he stood up from his chair and came over to you. 

“What’s going on is you didn’t pick up your fucking phone,” you said angrily. 

“Hey,” James looked at you sternly. “What is going on?” he repeated his question, this time more pointedly. 

You could feel your lips begin to tremble and your vision became blurred while you shook your head. 

“Who’s blood is on your shirt?” 

You chewed on the inside of your cheek, “It’s Julian’s.” 

“Julian-I-what happened?” his demeanour changed from frustrated with your attitude towards him to worrying for his son. 

“I-I don’t know he said he couldn’t breathe and then he started coughing up blood and I just picked him up and drove him here a-and now they won’t let me see him.” 

“You drove him?” he asked incredulously. “You didn’t think to maybe call an ambulance?” 

“That’s what you’re hung up on? That I decided to drive because it was faster than getting him an ambulance?” 

“That’s not what I-,” 

“Yes it is,” you stepped back. “I wouldn’t have needed an ambulance if you were there.” 

James sighed and chose to ignore your comment, 

“Where is he?” he asked. 

“Emergency room,” you muttered. “They won’t let me see him, you need to talk to them, say something, anything.” 

James nodded his head, at least you could agree on that. He walked with you out of the office and to the elevator so you could go to the ER together and figure out what the hell was happening to your son. 

When you got down there and James began speaking to the nurses, they informed him that Julian had been moved to the ICU and his respiration was being closely monitored while they ran a few tests to see what had caused the arrest. 

You had to fight to hold yourself upright when they pulled back the curtain and you could see Julian hooked up to all the machines and with a ventilator tube stuck down his throat. You covered your mouth with your hand and shook your head again. This couldn’t be happening, now you were supposed to be cutting into cake and opening presents, not sitting in the ICU. 

You stepped inside with James and he closed the curtain to give you a bit of privacy and decided to look over his chart and see if they had given any relevant information there. Seeing none, he turned his attention over to you, seeing your eyes filled with tears, unable to tear your gaze away from your son. 

James walked over to you and cautiously put a hand on your shoulder, eventually encouraging you to turn around so he could pull you into his arms. You allowed your tears to soak his white coat, gripping onto him so tightly because there was nowhere else to hold. 

You could hear his breathing change, accompanied by the small sniffles and you knew he was doing just as bad as you were right now, wiping the tears from his own eyes as he finally allowed himself to see his son as he was, sick, helpless, vulnerable, and only moments ago, without his dad’s help when he needed him most. 

Your moment was interrupted when you heard the curtain being pulled back and you saw two doctors standing there. You pulled away from James and wiped whatever remaining tears were in your eyes so you could properly address them.

It seemed as though one of the doctors recognized James and when he looked down at the file and saw the name he made the connection internally. 

“Can we talk to you guys out in the waiting room for a moment?” he asked. 

“I don’t want to leave my son,” you shook your head. 

“Ma’am, this is the ICU and the visiting hours are very strictly adhered to, I think your husband maybe got lucky and pulled a few strings so you could see your son, but we need to leave now.” 

“He’s not my husband,” you muttered and reluctantly followed them out of the makeshift room and towards the waiting area. 

“Did you find out what was wrong?” James asked, crossing his arms over his chest. “I looked at his chart. You took him for an emergency CT and bloodwork.” 

“We also ran a few other tests,” the doctor began explaining. “From the medical history your, um, ex wife gave I had a suspicion of something so we ran a sweat test to check for elevated chloride levels and it just came back positive.” 

“Chloride levels?” you looked up at James. “What does that mean?” 

James sighed and ran a hand through his hair, “It means Julian has cystic fibrosis.” 

“I-I’ve heard of that, is it curable?” you asked. 

“I’ll leave you guys with Dr. Liu, he deals with the pediatric cystic fibrosis cases and will be able to answer your questions better than I can,” he wished you a good day and left you alone with the other doctor. 

“Cystic fibrosis is manageable-,” 

“So you can’t cure it,” you reiterated. 

The doctor shook his head, “Unfortunately there is no cure for CF yet, but many people have been able to live longer and happy lives with the medical technology now available.” 

James was silent, taking in all the information that was being presented. 

“How did he get it? Is it contagious or-or was it just always there?” you asked. 

“It’s a genetic condition, so he’s always had it, the symptoms have just gotten to the point where they’re now visible,” the doctor explained.

“I-It’s genetic so one of us is a carrier?” you pointed to you and James. 

“We both are,” James said. “Both parents have to be carriers to pass it down to their child, right?” 

Dr. Liu nodded and you pressed your lips together. 

“C-Can you just tell us what this means for right now?” you asked. “I just think-I think I need a minute.” 

Dr. Liu nodded his head and explained they were giving Julian medication to help with the infection and airway damage that caused him to cough up blood, then they would get him on some bronchodilators to help with his breathing for the time being while they assessed what other issues the cystic fibrosis had potentially caused in his body. He’d have to stay at the hospital for a while, but hopefully could be moved to the pediatric ward within the next day or so.

“We can talk more about what Julian’s medical journey will look like later, I’ll give you guys some time together and if you have any questions, Wilson’s got my pager and knows where my office is.” 

You nodded your head and thanked him quietly as he left the waiting area. You finally sat down on one of the chairs. 

James took the seat next to you and you covered your face with your hands. 

“We couldn’t give him a functional family and a happy home and now we’ve given him a chronic medical condition to top it off.” 

“Blaming ourselves isn’t going to do anything for Julian,” James said. 

“And sitting around here is?” you asked and James sighed. 

“No, no it’s not.” 

You sat there in silence for a little while longer before you noticed James stand up and motion for you to follow him. As much as you didn’t want to listen to him and just sit and wait until they would let you be with Julian again, you got up and followed him to one of the OR supply closets. He used a key to unlock the door and sifted through some materials until he found what he was looking for, pulling out a scrub shirt in your size and handing it over to you. 

You looked down at your own shirt, seeing the red specks of Julian’s blood and closed the door behind your both, pulling your shirt off over your head and handing it to James. You were about to put the other shirt on when you noticed the flecks of dried blood against your chest. 

While you eyes were transfixed on that, James had grabbed an alcohol wipe package from the shelves and tore it open with his teeth, removing the wipe and reaching over to help you clean the blood off yourself. 

“James, I can do it myself,” you reached for the wipe, but he pulled it away. 

“You’ve got some on your neck too, just let me take care of it,” he insisted. 

You knew better than to cause a fight over something trivial like this right now so you put your hands down, watching as James tossed your shirt over his shoulder and carefully began wiping away the specks of your son’s blood off your chest, collarbone, and neck. 

“Have you eaten today?” he asked you while holding your face to tilt it to the side so he could get a spot he’d missed earlier. 

“No, why?” 

“Because it’s his birthday, you’d always forget to eat until dinner and even then it would be scraps from the party until I forced you to eat something better,” he recounted. “Let’s just go grab something from the cafeteria before we go back to the ICU, okay?” 

“Will it make a difference if I say I’m not hungry?” you asked. 

“You can’t take care of Julian if you’re not taking care of yourself.” 

You scoffed and pulled the shirt over your head, “And you’ve suddenly become an expert on taking care of your family?” 

“Believe it or not, we were once happy and there was a reason we got married and decided to have a child together.” 

“And there’s a reason we got divorced too,” you added and opened the door behind you.

You didn’t go to the cafeteria, instead heading back to the ICU waiting room knowing either visiting hours would have to start eventually or they’d move Julian to his own room and you could finally sit with him. 

James clearly hadn’t followed you so you ended up alone again, wringing your hands and waiting for some sort of news. 

Eventually, you felt a bag drop on your lap and you looked up and saw James standing overtop of you. You looked inside and saw a package of a sandwich, a small bag of chips, and a water bottle. 

You knew he was right, that if you didn’t take care of yourself you wouldn’t be able to take care of Julian, so you forced yourself to eat, even if you didn’t want to. 

A little while later, Dr. Liu had returned and informed you that they were moving Julian to the pediatric ward and you could stay with him there in his room. When you joined him there, James had taken off his white coat and tossed it on one of the chairs, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt and sitting down next to Julian’ taking one of his hands in his own. 

“Don’t you have patients you need to see?” you asked, sitting on the opposite side of the hospital bed. 

“I told Cuddy I needed the day, someone else is taking care of it for me,” he said, not removing his gaze from Julian. 

With the two of them sitting next to each other like that, you could clearly see the similarities Julian had with his father. They shared the same eyes and nose, and when they smiled they had the same little creases around their eyes. 

You wished that’s what you could have been looking at, them smiling together, instead of the frown etched onto James’ face and Julian still fast asleep while an oxygen mask now delivered the air he needed to help him breathe. 

“Do you know much about cystic fibrosis?” you asked James, brushing your thumb against Julian’s other hand. 

“Only that it mainly affects the digestive system and the respiratory tract,” he explained. “I’m not too familiar with how it's managed, just that there’s regular doctor’s visits and probably some medication and therapies involved.” 

You could feel a small stirring and you looked down and saw Julian’s hand begin to move underneath yours. 

You smiled when you saw his eyes blink open and James was quick to stand up and come closer to him so he had a familiar face to look at while he took in his surroundings. 

“Hey buddy,” James smiled and you could see Julian light up at the sight of his dad. He lifted his hand to try to remove the oxygen mask, but James gently encouraged him not to. “This is giving your lungs an extra hand right now, let’s just keep it on until the doctor tells us it's okay to take it off.” 

“But you’re a doctor,” Julian countered and James chuckled. 

“I am, but I'm not your doctor. I am, however, your dad so you have to listen to me anyways,” he teased and bent down to kiss his son’s cheek and tickle him a little bit in the process. 

“Hey, go easy on him,” you placed a gentle hand on James' arm and he laid off. 

“You know,” James said. “It’s still your birthday.” 

“It is?” Julian asked and you both nodded and James reached down to grab something he’d brought with him. 

“All the presents your friends got you are at home waiting for you to get better so you can open them, but this is what I got for you,” he said. “I was gonna come and bring it to the party, but I think you brought the party to me.” 

Julian laughed a little at that and you rolled your eyes, of course James could make himself look good by not showing up. 

He sat up with the help of his dad and pulled out the tissue paper from the bag to see the present that was hiding underneath. With a big grin on his face, he took out a dinosaur stuffed animal along with a book all about the different species of the Cretaceous period. 

“This is awesome,” Julian grinned. “Thanks dad, I love it.” 

James gave Julian another kiss and you joined them, taking a seat on the bed and glancing over at the book on Julian’s lap. 

“How are you feeling sweetheart?” you asked, fixing the twisted band of the oxygen mask on his face. 

“My throat hurts a little bit,” he admitted. “And I’m kinda hungry.” 

“Let me call a nurse and we’ll see what you can eat,” you said and pressed the button to send someone over from the nurses’ station. 

Meanwhile, James poured Julian a glass of water and helped him take a few sips of it. His throat was probably irritated from being on the ventilator, but his lungs had become stabilized from the use of the bronchodilators. 

The nurse came and you spoke to her about getting Julian something to eat and she said she’d double check with Dr. Liu and then grab him some food. 

“Hey, Jay,” you walked over to the bed and took your son’s hand in yours. “Are you okay to hang out here with dad while I go grab some stuff from home? The doctors said we might hang around here for a few days so I think I need to pack a bag.” 

“Yeah, that’s okay,” Julian nodded. “Are you okay mom?” he reached up and touched your cheek and you realized you'd let a few more tears slip.

“Yeah, I’m just really happy you’re okay,” you wiped the tears away and pressed a big kiss to his cheek. “Right, Jamie? We’re both happy he’s okay.” 

James looked over at you with softness reflecting in his eyes at the sound of the nickname he hadn’t heard in a long time and nodded his head. 

“Bring some cake back with you,” Julian whispered. “Even if dad and the doctor say no we can sneak some.” 

You laughed at his plan and gave him another kiss, assuring him you’d pack some in a container to bring for him when you came back.

When you arrived at your home, you thought you might cry at the sight in front of you. The kitchen and living room were completely clean, presents piled neatly on the coffee table along with a new card you didn’t recognize. Coming closer, you noticed the bright marker, signature of eight-year-olds across the country, with the message Get Well Soon Julian! written on it and signed by all his friends who had attended the party. 

You packed the card in your bag along with a few other things and made a mental note to grab a nice thank you gift for Mahlet to thank her for what she had done. 

As promised, you cut a big chunk of cake, enough for the three of you to share, and packed it in a tupperware to bring back to the hospital. 

You grabbed a few changes of clothes for both you and Julian and changed out of the temporary shirt you had on and into something more comfortable for the rest of the evening, making sure everything you needed was in place before heading out and going back to the hospital. 

When you got back to Julian’s room you saw James squished in next to him on the bed, the book he had bought him opened on his lap as he read its contents to Julian. Julian was resting his head against James’ arm and James was doing those big exaggerations he always would whenever he’d read bedtime stories to Julian, emphasizing all the insane details and changing the inflections of his voice in just the right way to make him laugh. 

“I brought cake,” you grinned, holding up the container as you entered the room, holding three plastic forks. “If Dr. Dad says it's okay, we can eat it.” 

“Dr. Dad desperately needs some sugar,” James nodded his head and closed the book for the time being while you took a seat by Julian’s legs and opened the container, handing each of the boys a fork. 

You helped Julian take off his oxygen mask for the time being and placed it off to the side, acutely aware of how his breathing sounded more laboured without it. 

James only snuck in a couple bites of the cake before taking the mask from your side and holding it ready in case Julian needed a bit of an extra hand. 

Just as he had predicted, after a few bites of cake Julian was noticing a bit of a difficulty to get air into his lungs and James held up the mask to his face, allowing him to take a couple deep breaths. 

“What do you think of the cake, Jay?” you asked. 

“Really good, just like everytime you make it,” he grinned. 

“I’m sorry you didn’t have a great birthday, buddy,” James apologized. “I mean with all your friends and classmates.” 

“What do you mean?” Julian asked. “I think I had a good birthday.” 

“You do?” you frowned curiously, wondering what kind of light he’d seen in the day that you and James as worried parents had somehow missed. “What made it good?”

“We’re sitting eating cake. Together. Just like when I was little,” he said simply and you chewed on the inside of your cheek, looking over at James whose gaze hadn’t left Julian. He almost looked disappointed, at what, you couldn’t place, but at least for the moment Julian was happy and that was all either of you really wanted. 

—

You grabbed your purse from the ground and thanked Dr. Liu for all of the information he had given you and assured you’d be there with Julian at the allocated follow-up time you had arranged. You were just about to leave when James came rushing into the room, apologies spewing out of his mouth for being late. 

“Late? You missed the whole appointment.”

“I-I did?” he said, looking down at his watch and cursing when he saw the time. 

“Jay, sweetheart, why don’t you sit down here,” you moved out of Dr. Liu’s office and set him up on a chair in one of the general waiting areas and handed him his dinosaur book from your purse. “I just need to go have a chat with your dad real quick.” 

Julian nodded and opened up the book, flipping through the pages while you grabbed James’ arm and pulled him into a dead-end hallway so you could speak in private. 

“What the hell took you so long?” you asked firmly. “We waited for twenty minutes before even starting the appointment!” 

“I’m sorry,” James apologized, “I was in the OR with a patient and something went haywire and it took longer than expected to fix it.” 

“Still, you couldn’t have told someone to at least pass on a message?” 

“I was in the middle of saving a patient’s life! What did you want me to do?” 

“I wanted you to be there for your son,” you whispered harshly. “You make promises you can’t keep and I have to watch him get disappointed over and over again. He does not deserve that, especially now.” 

James placed his hands on his hips and said, 

“I am trying to be there, it’s not for lack of effort-,” 

“Well try harder!” you threw your hands up in the air. “You’re an ex-husband James, not an ex-father. You don’t have to show up for me anymore, but you damn well better show up for him.” 

When he said nothing you continued. 

“Believe it or not, you don’t have to work as much as you do James. You chose to do that and right now that’s coming at your son’s expense and he is scared and vulnerable and neither of us know half of what Dr. Liu is talking to us about. Do you know what he said to me when I was confused about the management plan? He said Dad would know what this means. Dad can help us. And he’s right, you would have known and you can help so stop acting like your fucking schedule controls you and get your schedule under control.” 

James was quiet for a moment before he nodded his head, 

“Okay,” he said simply. 

You knew better than to get your hopes up with him and you didn’t have any more energy to argue, so you told him you could talk more later, but right now you were going to take Julian home so he could rest in his own bed and finally open his birthday presents. 

“Is dad coming with us?” Julian asked when you picked him up and began walking away to leave the hospital. 

“No, not this time,” you shook your head. 

“Did you fight with him again?” Julian asked and you pressed your lips together. 

“We just had a disagreement,” you settled on. “You can call him later when he’s done work if you want to talk to him, sounds good?” 

Julian was content with your answer and left it at that. 

Over the next few days, aside from Julian’s call, you didn’t hear much for James and you assumed things were right on track to going back to the way they had always been. You loved your son to pieces, but this was one time you wished his dad would be here to support, working and caring for Julian on top of trying to figure out how to be his at home doctor was already taking its toll and you didn’t know how you’d be able to keep it up. 

One night, you were sitting in the living room reading a book Dr. Liu had recommended. It was detailing strategies for parents with children who had cystic fibrosis. In the middle of your chapter you were interrupted by a knock to your door and you put in your bookmark, wondering who was stopping by this far into the evening. 

Unlocking the door and opening it, you found it hard to hide the surprise in your face when you saw James on the other end. 

“James?” you tilted your head. “I haven’t heard from you at all this week, what’s going on?” 

“I reduced my patient load,” he said, “and I talked to Cuddy about reducing my clinic hours. I still have to do some administrative stuff for the department, but it can be done from home for the most part.” 

“Oh,” you were surprised to say the least. You didn’t realize your outburst the other day had worked. 

“You were right,” he said. “I need to be here for Julian and I can’t do that if my work always comes first.” 

You nodded your head, following along with what he was saying. 

“C-Can I come in and see him?” James asked. “I know our custody agreement has always been all over the place-,” 

You didn’t say anything, simply opening the door wider for him to come inside. 

“He’s asleep in his room,” you said. “When you’re done we can talk some more.” 

James nodded and stepped inside, slipping off his shoes and taking off his jacket, making his way to Julian’s room to sit with him for a moment before joining you in the kitchen. 

“Want something to drink?” you asked and he said some water would be nice. You poured him a glass while waiting for the water to boil for your tea. 

“I saw the book you were reading over there,” he pointed to the couch. “Dr. Liu recommended it to me too, I just finished it the other night.” 

“Show off,” you rolled your eyes and handed him the glass. 

“What I was trying to say is I think something that stood out to me is having consistency and a routine is good, especially when things are new,” James explained. “I don’t think it makes sense for him to be moving back and forth from here to my place.” 

“So you think we should have a home base here?” you confirmed and he nodded. 

“I can come by more often, if there’s days where you need to be at work I can be doing the administrative stuff here after school and take care of Julian until you get back.” 

You pursed your lips and as you heard the kettle click, moved to pour your hot water into the mug you were holding. 

“These are all good ideas,” you started. 

“I’m assuming there’s a but coming?” 

“But I don’t want to give Julian the wrong impression is all.” 

James shook his head. 

“You really need to pick whatever it is you want,” James crossed his arms over his chest. “First I’m not here enough, I don’t put my family first. Now I’m putting my family first and you’re worried Julian’s going to think this means we’re getting back together.” 

“He doesn’t need to get his hopes up for something that’s never going to happen,” you said flatly. 

“Have you ever considered having a conversation with him instead of shielding him from every little thing that might hurt him?” James asked and you rolled your eyes. 

“Clearly every little thing can hurt him!” you pointed over to his room. “He can’t even breathe without help, James. Maybe he needs to be protected.” 

“Stop, just stop,” James ran a hand over his face. “I can’t get into a fight with you every single time we see each other. Julian is just as much my son as he is yours, if this is going to work we need to be able to have a conversation with each other.” 

You took a sip of your tea and said,

“Okay, I’m worried Julian might take the fact that you’re around more the wrong way.” 

James nodded his head, “I hear you, so maybe we should talk to him about it and say I’m coming around more to lend a hand around the house and help take care of him.” 

“Dad? What are you doing here?” as if on cue, Julian had walked into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes awake and adjusting to the light. 

“Julian, where’s your oxygen mask?” 

“I don’t wanna wear it mom,” he whined. “I don’t like the way it feels on my face.” 

You sighed, having had this conversation at least five times before, you didn’t know what else you could say to convince him. 

“Hey buddy, maybe we should listen to mom on this one,” James suggested. “You know that feeling you’ve got right here,” he pointed to his chest. “That’s only gonna get worse if you don’t wear it and we don’t want to have to go to the hospital again, right?” 

Julian shook his head and sighed, stomping back over to his room to grab the portable machine and place the tube under his nose and around his ears, allowing him to get the right amount of oxygen. 

You looked over at James gratefully and he reached his hand out to yours and gave it a squeeze. It was nice being on the same team even if you had just been arguing. 

When Julian came back he repeated his question to his dad who explained that he was here to talk to you about a few things that would be changing soon and that he’d be around more to help look after him. 

“If you’re going to be here to help look after me can you stay tonight?” Julian asked. “Mom still has some of your clothes in those boxes in her closet.” 

“She does, does she,” James looked over at you. 

“It was the stuff you wanted to give away and I never got around to it,” you said. “There’s probably a hoodie and some pyjama pants in there if you want to stay.” 

James pressed his lips together and sighed, 

“You know buddy as much as I would love to have a sleepover with you I don’t think it’s a good idea if I spend the night here,” James said. “But I can tuck you in again and wait until you fall asleep to go back home.” 

“Mom, can you come too?” Julian asked and you nodded your head. 

James stood up and helped Julian carry his portable oxygen machine back to his bedroom and you trailed behind them, watching as James carefully tucked Julian back under the covers while peppering his face with small kisses, like he would do when Julian was younger and just learning to sleep in his own room. 

“Dad that tickles,” Julian giggled and James simply smiled and continued littering his face with kisses. 

“Too bad. I love you too much; I just can’t get enough of you.” 

“Alright, move it,” you nudged James from the opposite side of the bed and took your turn. “It must tickle having two parents who love you so damn much.” 

“It does,” Julian’s laughter died out as you both finally left him alone, sitting on either side of his mattress. 

You both wished him a good night and waited as he slowly fell back asleep. When his breathing was steady and his grip loosened on yours and James’ hands you took it as your cue to leave the room. 

James placed a hand on your shoulder as you stepped out of the room, prompting you to turn around and face him. 

“I’ll come by tomorrow and we can work out a schedule or something, does that sound good?”

You nodded your head, 

“Yeah, I have a work thing tomorrow in the evening, I was gonna ask Mahlet, Hennock’s mom, if she could come look after Julian, but if you’re around…” 

“I’ll come for dinner and then do the bedtime routine,” he said and you smiled. 

“James I’m begging you-,” 

“I won’t be late,” he assured. “No surgeries planned and I’m ending my shift with clinic duty.” 

You pressed your lips into a thin line and nodded your head. 

“I’ll see you then,” you patted his arm and he showed himself out. 

You walked back to the kitchen grabbing your now lukewarm cup of tea and sitting back on the couch picking up your book and opening it, reading until you couldn’t keep your eyes open any longer, falling asleep right there on the couch. 

—

Over the next few months, you, James, and Julian had developed some sort of routine around school, work, and doctor’s appointments. A part of you thought you were spending more time together as a family than when you were married. 

Today you had to go in for work, also having reduced your hours, but in a way that you were working in tandem with James. When you arrived back home the house smelled like warm spices and big plates of home-cooked food. 

You dropped your keys on the entryway table, next to James’ keys and wallet and took off your jacket, hanging it up before coming to the kitchen and seeing Julian and Hennock doing their homework at the island. 

“Mr. Wilson, what is the difference between these two words?” Hennock asked, holding up his paper so James could see while cutting some vegetables for a salad. 

“I think the first one is the kind of principal in your school that looks after all the students and the other one is… man, that’s hard to describe. Hey, how do you describe what principle is to an eight-year-old?” James asked you. 

“I think that kind of principle is something that guides the way people behave or act,” you sat next to Julian and Hennock. “Like a principle is the foundation for something that people believe in.” 

Hennock and Julian still looked a little confused by your explanation so you tried to give an example. 

“So a principle could be to be kind to everyone we meet and so people who believe in that principle will try to follow it.” 

That put it in better terms for them to understand and there was a chorus of oh’s before they looked back down at their papers and scribbled down a few things to answer the questions they were asked. 

“They learning about homonyms?” you asked James and he nodded.

“I talked to Mahlet,” James said, changing the topic. “Hennock’s gonna stay for dinner and she’ll come pick him up around seven.” 

“Sounds good, it’s always nice to have you, Henny,” you smiled and ruffled your hand through his coarse curly hair in an endearing way. 

“Thanks, Mrs. Wilson,” Hennock smiled. 

James was now over the stove, stirring what looked like a soup before giving it a taste and figuring something might be missing.

“Can you taste this?” James asked. “I don’t know why, but every time I make it there’s something off.” 

You took a spoon and tried a little bit of the broth, looking down to see that he was making matzah ball soup and immediately when you tasted it you knew what was missing. 

“I know what it is,” you said. “But you can’t tell your mom I told you. She swore me to secrecy.” 

“My mother told you this?” James asked and you nodded. 

“When we were getting married she wanted me to know how to make it the way she would for you when you were sick.” 

“And she didn’t think to tell her own son how to do this?” he seemed thoroughly offended, but all you could do was laugh. 

“It’s tarragon. I don’t think it’s something everyone adds, it was just something special she’d put in hers to make it a little different. Here,” you reached into the spice cupboard and took out a jar of dried tarragon and took a bit of the herb out of the container and crushed it in your hands before sprinkling it into the soup. James mixed it in and gave the broth a minute to soak in the flavour before trying it again and shaking his head. 

“I can’t believe she didn’t tell me!” 

“I’ll let you finish having your little meltdown,” you patted his back. “I’m gonna hop in the shower quickly and we can eat when I get out.” 

“Did Dad forget the tarragon?” Julian asked and you nodded your head. 

“Wow, so everyone knew, but me?” James asked and you nodded your head with a shrug. 

“Sorry, I guess your mom has favourites, or something.” 

“Figures,” James teasingly rolled his eyes and you chuckled, waving him off and going to take a shower and change into something a little more comfortable. 

When you came back outside they had migrated to the dining room table, each with a bowl of soup in front of them and a plate of salad. You sat on the same side as James since Julian and Hennock were already sitting next to each other and the boys happily recounted the details of their school day and playdate with you while everyone ate their soup and salad. 

“What did you do at work, Dad?” James asked. 

“Oh, nothing interesting,” he shook his head. “I think your mom was doing bigger things than me.” 

“Bigger than treating people with cancer? You flatter me,” you drank some of your soup’s broth. “I had a meeting with a big company about a building they’re making.” 

“Did you go do a site visit?” James asked and you nodded. 

“Engineers are being a pain in the butt, keep making me adjust the design, but we’ll see who gets the last laugh.” 

“Mom always does,” Julian told Hennock and they chuckled along with James. 

After dinner James helped you clear up some of the dishes before heading out and leaving you with the boys. When Mahlet came by to pick Hennock up you invited her in for tea and a little visit. 

“Thanks for coming to stay with Julian the other night,” you said after handing her a mug. “For once, I was the late one and James had an emergency come up so it was a huge help.” 

“And how are things now, with the co-parenting?” 

You took a sip of your tea, “Weirdly good,” you admitted. “We don’t argue as much which is nice and Julian gets to see his dad more.” 

“Do you think maybe you’re not fighting because he’s changing?” she asked. 

“I don’t wanna go down that path,” you shook your head. “If Jay hadn’t been diagnosed things would still be the same as they always were.” 

“But they’re not. More often than not people show their true colours during times of difficulty.” 

You took a deep breath and sighed, “If that was the case I would have seen something worth keeping when my marriage was falling apart.” 

Mahlet nodded, seeing as you had a point and your conversation was halted as they boys came out of Julian’s room. 

Mahlet and Hennock left shortly afterwards and you quickly got Julian ready for bed, tucking him in and then going to get settled yourself. You looked through a few client papers for work before calling it a night and turning off your bedside lamp, curling into bed and falling asleep. 

Your sleep was interrupted in the middle of the night by a tapping on your shoulder and when you blinked your eyes open you saw Julian standing next to your bed. 

“Jay, sweetheart, is something wrong?” you asked. 

“My stomach really hurts,” he told you and you sat up, motioning for him to come sit with you on the bed. 

“Where?” you asked, turning on the light and he pointed to the upper right corner of his abdomen. If you remembered correctly that wasn’t exactly where his stomach was and your suspicions were confirmed when you saw the yellowing whites of his eyes. “Oh, sweetheart, I think we have to go to the hospital.” 

“The hospital? What happened?” Julian looked worried and you assured him everything would be alright. 

“We’re just being safe,” you told him. “I’m gonna call your dad, maybe he can tell us a little bit more of what’s going on. Do you feel good enough to get your jacket and shoes and your hospital bag?” 

Julian nodded his head and you gave him a kiss and he went off to grab his things while you did the same, but also taking your cell phone and calling James. 

It took a few rings, but he eventually picked up. 

“Hey, did something happen?” he asked and you could still hear the sleep thick in his voice. 

“I think something’s wrong with Julian. I’m gonna take him to the hospital, can you meet us there?” 

“Yeah, of course, I’m on my way.” 

“James…the whites of his eyes were yellow. Does he have jaundice?” you asked.

“It’s possible, was there anything else?” 

“Yeah, he mentioned stomach pain, but he pointed to like his upper right abdomen, I think,” you explained while grabbing your bag and putting on some socks. 

“Makes sense as a liver issue,” you could hear his car starting in the background. “If he’s presenting symptoms now I would call an ambulance.” 

“James-,” 

“Just trust me,” he said. “Call 911.” 

“Okay,” you nodded your head and hung up, calling the emergency services and explaining the situation to them and then to Julian while you waited for them to arrive. 

James made the right call, seeing as while you were in the ambulance Julian began to throw up and the paramedics obviously handled it better than you could have if you had driven him. 

When you arrived at the ER they wheeled Julian away and you began getting flashbacks to when you first brought him in. 

“Where are you taking him?” you called after them, but no one answered you. “What the hell kind of hospital is this?! Where are you taking my son?!” 

“Ma’am they're taking your son to do a liver biopsy,” one of the nurses came back and informed you. “We need you to sign this consent form.” 

You nodded your head and took the pen from her hand, signing it, but just as you were about to ask her a question she ran off to give them the okay. 

You could feel your anger and worry bubbling inside your throat and you wanted to let it out in a scream and you were about to go running after her, but before you could you felt someone grab your wrist and pull you back. 

“James let me go,” you said warningly, looking back at your ex-husband. 

“No,” he stated just as firmly. 

“James-,” 

“I am not going to let you do something you’re going to regret,” he said and pulled you into his chest, wrapping his arms around you, even when you pushed to get away. 

“James, let me go.”

“No,” he repeated and simply held onto you tighter. 

“Let me-,” your voice broke and you stopped pushing away. “Please, Jamie, please I just want to see him,” you cried into his shirt and he squeezed you so tight you thought you might get bruises in your arm from the way he was holding you. 

“I know, I know,” he whispered. “You brought him here and he’s going to be fine.” 

“I can’t do this anymore, James. I can't be his mom and his doctor and they can’t expect me to wait out here while they drag him away and ask me to consent to God knows what.” 

James didn’t know what to tell you, instead he just continued to hold you close, rubbing his hands up and down your back, and pressed a soft kiss against your temple. 

You wrapped your arms around him and finally let yourself fully sink into his embrace, hating yourself for how much you liked it and how good it made you feel while your son was in some back corner of the ER getting a piece of his liver biopsied.

Eventually James pulled away from you, helping you dry your tears on the sleeve of his sweater and walking with his arm wrapped around you to the waiting area. You didn’t know how long you were sitting there, but it was possible that you had dozed off once or twice against James’ arm, waiting to hear some sort of news from the ER doctor. 

“Mr. and Mrs. Wilson?” 

Your eyes blinked open when James gently shook you awake. 

“That’s us,” he said. “Is Julian okay?” 

“Your son has a mild case of cirrhosis,” the doctor explained. “Due to his cystic fibrosis diagnosis we believe this is due to clogging and inflammation in his bile ducts.” 

“What does that mean for him? Does he need surgery to fix it?” you asked, fighting back a tired yawn. 

“Unfortunately, yes,” the doctor nodded. “It’s good you caught it early, there’s minimal damage to his liver so far and he’s still growing which means his liver is too. We can get him into an OR tomorrow if you consent to the surgery.” 

You looked over at James and he nodded his head. You trusted him and told the doctor you would sign the papers as soon as you could see Julian. 

“He’s been moved to the pediatric ward for now and Dr. Liu has been informed of the development. He should be in touch with you tomorrow.” 

“Thank you,” James said and when the doctor left, he helped you up and you began the walk up to the pediatric ward. 

When you arrived a nurse pointed you in the direction of his room and after each pressing a kiss to Julain’s forehead you sat on the seat bench together. 

“We should sleep,” James said, but you had a hard time imagining how that would be possible. 

“I’m having a hard time working out the logistics,” you admitted. 

“Come on, it’ll be just like on the way back from our honeymoon,” he insisted, recalling your extremely delayed flight on the way back from France, causing you to sleep with your head on James’ lap, stretched out along the airport chairs. 

You were too tired to argue or try and find another way, so you leaned down and rested your head against his legs, closing your eyes and sighing when you felt his hand rub up and down in long motions along the side of your body. Sleep could not have come quicker.

—

“Mom…Mom, Dad?” 

Julian rolled his eyes when he received no answer and grabbed the stuffed animal you had placed next to him when he’d come into the room and threw it at his sleeping parents, nailing his dad in the face. 

“Oh, God, mhm, wake up,” James shook you while he raised his hands to rub his face.

“Huh?” you opened your eyes and pushed yourself off of James’ lap. “Oh crap, my back. Remind me not to listen to you when you talk about doing something I did ten years ago.” 

“Julian, did you throw Steggy at my face?” James asked, picking up the stuffed animal from where it had fallen on you. 

“You weren’t getting up,” Julian shrugged his shoulders. 

“Julian,” you chastised and took the dinosaur from James’ hand. “You could have hurt your dad’s important doctor-face,” you joked and rubbed your hand all over James’ face making Julian laugh. 

“Okay, okay,” James moved your hand away and gave you a look. 

“How are you feeling, sweetheart?” you yawned and moved from the bench to the side of his bed. 

“A little better,” he said. “Did the doctors fix what was wrong?” 

“Not yet,” James shook his head and came to sit next to you and placed a hand on Julian’s. “You’re gonna have to go in for surgery today.” 

“A surgery?” Julian looked a little nervous. “Like cut me open?” 

“It’ll be just a line right here,” James drew it with his finger along Julian’s abdomen. “They’re going to fix a part of you called your bile duct and then sew you right back up and you’ll be good as new.” 

“Is it dangerous?” he asked. 

You looked over at James, a small note telling him to lie to make him feel better. He didn’t need to know all the details. 

“No,” James shook his head. “You’re gonna be fine and your mom and I will be here the whole time.” 

“Promise?” Julian whispered. 

“Swear on it,” James leaned in towards his son and snuck a kiss to his cheek. “We love you, buddy.” 

“I love you guys too.” 

Dr. Liu came by a little while later to inform you what time the surgery was scheduled for and he helped make Julian feel a lot better about the procedure. When it was finally time for him to go, you were a nervous wreck, but tried not to let it show for Julian’s sake, instead just pressing a big kiss to his forehead and telling him you’d be waiting for him once he got out. 

It only took about fifteen minutes of your pacing to get James to grab onto your arm and make you stop. 

“You’re gonna burn a hole in the ground,” he said. 

“I don’t know what to do with myself,” you admitted. “If I sit I’m gonna fidget, if I stand I’m going to pace.” 

“Then come on, let’s go to my office for a second, grab a coffee and a snack and then we can come back out and wait,” he suggested. 

You agreed to his idea so he stood up and you walked side by side to his office, passing House who had some comment about your dishevelled appearance together. 

“You’re an interesting man, Greg,” you shook your head at him. “You can’t think of any other reason we might be here?” 

House was silent so James explained, 

“Julian’s in surgery right now. He’s got cirrhosis.” 

“Ah so not a late night ex-wife rendez-vous. Can’t get ‘em right all the time,” he shrugged and you chuckled. “I hope the kid’s alright.” 

“Thanks, that means a lot coming from you,” you admitted. 

He raised his brows and lifted his cane to say goodbye, letting you and James continue your walk to his office. 

“House mind that you’re not spending as much time here?” you asked. 

“No, he just bothers me more when I am around,” James said while opening the door and letting you inside. 

He went towards his desk and pulled out a few packages of snacks tossing you one and you shook your head when you saw the label. 

“You still eat these? I thought the FDA recalled them?” you asked sarcastically. 

“I’m sorry I have better taste in food than you do,” he said right back. 

“Right, this is food,” you chuckled. “And if you have such good taste why didn’t your mom tell you about her secret ingredient?” 

“That’s cold,” he pointed to you with a bag of chips in his hand. 

“No, it’s true. Just like your dad telling me I was his favourite wife of yours,” you opened the bag James had tossed you. 

“Just shut up and eat your snack,” James chuckled and you listened to him, beginning to eat a little something, not realizing how hungry you were until the food made its way to your stomach. 

“You got another one of these?” you asked and he nodded, passing it to you when you were finished with the first one. 

“Feeling a little better?” James asked and you nodded your head. 

“Hey James?” you said, unsure of how you’d gotten to this point, but you were too exhausted to stop yourself from saying it. “I want you to move back in.” 

“You want me to do what?” he raised his brows and looked at you stunned. 

“I want you to move back in with me and Julian,” you said. “It’s becoming pretty clear to me that it’s safer to have two people around when possible than not and you’re already around all the time now.” 

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” he asked. “I mean you didn’t want to give Julian the wrong idea about us.” 

“Our lives changed the second we got that diagnosis. I think we need to change along with everything else.” 

You couldn’t believe that just barely twelve hours ago you were telling your friend there was no chance James had changed, but here you were saying things that had proved you had changed. Things you wouldn’t have dreamt of saying a year ago. 

“Okay,” James nodded. “I’ll move back in.” 

You just silently hoped you wouldn’t regret asking. 

Waiting for Julian to get out of surgery was a little easier now that you had some food in your stomach and you decided to wait on coffee until you got the note from the surgeon that everything had gone well. 

As James had continued to assure you almost a hundred times, the surgery went fine and before you knew it you were back in Julian’s room watching him sleep off the anaesthetic. 

“You know he looks like you when he sleeps,” James said from the bench while you sat on the bed next to Julian. 

“He does?” 

“Yeah, his nose does that same scrunchy thing when he sniffles and when he snores-,” 

“Hey, I only snore when I’m congested,” you said defensively. 

“I never minded,” James smiled. “I thought it was cute when you sounded like an old man.” 

“Yeah, but you’re not fond of all my old man characteristics,” you turned around to face him, still holding Julian’s hand in yours. 

“All your old man characteristics?” James furrowed his brows in confusion. 

“You told me I argued like an old man. Stubborn and could only see my own way. And I fought dirty.” 

“You sure did,” James nodded. “If you brandishing my mother’s clear favouritism shows anything, it’s definitely that you fight dirty, but I never said I disliked that about you.” 

“Really? Near the end I thought there was a lot you disliked about me.” 

James shook his head, “No, I was just upset and you were passionate. It wasn’t like my other marriages where things just…fizzled.” 

“We did go out with a bang,” you inhaled deeply. 

“If it weren’t for Julian… do you think we’d…” 

You shook your head. 

“No, we probably never would have seen each other again. Another old man trait, I hold a pretty mean grudge.” 

James pressed his lips together and looked over at his sleeping son. 

“I’m happy we had him,” he said quietly. “Even if we didn’t work out.” 

“Me too,” you agreed, looking over at Julian quietly snoring, just like his dad had said. “Best thing that’s ever happened to me.” 

You leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to Julian’s nose watching him scrunch it up, making you smile. It was a miracle that two such flawed individuals could make a child so perfect. 

—

“Alright, he is asleep, but I do warn you it took some bribery so you’ll have to buy him another dinosaur book to read to him at night,” you walked out of Julian’s room, dusting your hands off like you’d just finished a heavy labour job. 

“I’ll run to the bookstore tomorrow,” James nodded and you fell onto the couch next to him and sighing as you sunk into the plush fabric before noticing what he was doing. 

“Where did you pull these out of?” you asked with a soft chuckle. 

“I was just clearing up the closet in the guest bedroom and I found a box of these,” he picked up the albums. “Look at this one.” 

He placed the book of photos on your lap and you smiled seeing as it was Julian’s baby album, filled with small mementos and little notes you and James had made in the margins. 

“Oh my God, Mom’s first day home, she looks like an angel,” you read from the side. “And my response: I look like I just got hit by a bus, cut it out.” 

“You can still read my chicken scratch writing?” James asked. 

“My most useless talent as I like to call it,” you nodded. “You wrote a lot in here.” 

“I used to bring it with me to work cause I missed you guys so much,” he admitted. “Made me feel closer to you.” 

You read through some of the notes in the book, chuckling a little at some of the written back and forth you had. Eventually you got to the family portraits you’d had taken a few months after Julian was born, smiling softly to yourself. 

You remembered the day well, you felt like you hadn’t slept in weeks, James was just getting off of a twelve-hour shift and you were almost late to your appointment with the photographer. You were worried everything was going to look terrible and you’d barely had enough time to do your hair or makeup, but James had silenced your worries with a kiss and assured you the pictures would be fine. 

In the end most of them were terrible, but the photographer managed to get two shots, one of you and James smiling down at Julian in your arms and another immediately after where you were looking up and smiling at each other. 

“That session was a shitshow,” you recalled and James agreed. “We did get a few nice things out of it though.” 

You looked back down at the pile of albums in front of you and noticed a large white one, tucked under a few things and even though nothing good could come of it, you pulled it out from the bottom of the pile, carefully blowing off the dust and turning the first page. 

Centerfold, just like you remembered it, was a picture of you and James on your wedding day. You leaned further back into the couch and James scooched in closer to get a look. 

You both looked younger in the picture, with that spark of je ne sais quoi in your eyes. 

“I told you there was a reason we got married,” he said quietly, his hand brushing the corner of the photo. 

“Yeah, we loved each other,” you said. “That was the reason.” 

“Same reason we decided to have Julian,” he added. 

You could feel your breathing become a little more shallow and a tightness in your chest as James spoke about Julian. You remembered the conversations so clearly, like you’d had them yesterday, caught between happy and passionate kisses while James made some dirty jokes about getting you pregnant. 

That was back when he still couldn’t get enough of you. Before things changed and he slowly distanced himself until it felt like it was just you and Julian against the rest of the world, and not the three of you like he had promised all those nights throughout your pregnancy. 

You wondered quietly to yourself what had changed? What had become so unbearable that there was distance in the first place? There was never a lack of love on your end which is why this was dangerous. 

At least when there was distance you could be angry with him, you could go to bed at night and not remember all the little things that made you love him in the first place. He wasn’t there as a constant  reminder that you loved his cooking, or even just your banter together. More importantly, it was giving you new reasons to feel that fluttering feeling in your stomach. 

You’d always loved how he’d interact with Julian, but now that you got to see it day in and day out, it made it harder to weigh that against the cons of everything. Most notably, this was the beginning of the end. If you let yourself fall you would both crash and Julian would be caught in the middle once again. 

You tried to distract yourself by flipping through the album photos to find some funny old picture of a relative or maybe even an embarrassing moment to tone down whatever it was that looking at that picture was making you feel. 

All you could focus on was how in every picture, almost without fail, James was looking over at you. Rarely into the camera along with everyone else. He was enamoured, that was the only word to describe it, and oh how much you missed that look. 

You made the mistake of tearing away your gaze from the pictures, looking up at James instead, and for a moment you thought just maybe you saw that same look in his eyes. But no. It couldn’t have been. The dim light of the lamp must have been playing tricks on you. 

Finally you closed the album and put it back down, unsure of what feelings might resurface if you opened another one. Your honeymoon, family dinners and pictures were all just reminders of the happy times, not what came after.

James did what you didn’t want to, grabbing another album and sifting through the pages until he found what he was looking for, taking a picture out of its protective sleeve and showing it to you. 

“Can I keep this one?” he asked. 

You took it from his hands, examining it while your fingers precariously held the edges of the photograph. 

It was a silly picture, something you had taken while you were travelling. James got someone to take the camera, but along with snapping a few shots while you were posed with smiles they caught a few candids, most notably, James kissing your cheek while you laughed and tried to squirm out of his grasp. 

Your finger gently brushed over the spot on the photo where James’ lips were against your cheek before nodding your head. 

“Sure, you can have it,” you handed him back the picture and patted your hands against your legs, preparing to stand up. “I should get to bed.”

“I’ll be out here for a while longer if you need anything.”

You gave him a tight lipped smile and stood up, walking towards your bedroom. When you closed the door behind you, you let out a breath you had been holding and ran a hand across your face. 

Maybe Julian was never the one at risk of getting the wrong idea.

—

Waking up in the middle of the night always made you feel uneasy. Especially if Julian was the one waking you up. The chance that you’d have to drive to the hospital or call an ambulance was high and you hated the fear and worry that came along with any possible complications. 

Tonight, you woke up on your own accord. Your heart was beating inside your throat and your stomach felt like it was housing a group of persistent butterflies. 

You glanced over at the clock and saw the time, flashing in red. 

3:07

You took a deep breath trying to steady your heart rate and breathing before peeling away your blanket and kicking your feet over the side of the bed. You grabbed a different pair of pyjamas from your dresser and walked into the washroom, tossing them on the far end of the floor while you stripped down and turned on the water for the shower. 

When you stepped inside you hissed initially at the cold, but forced yourself to become fully submerged under the water, closing the curtain behind you. Your muscles clenched as your body adjusted to the temperature, and when the time finally came you let your thoughts and dreams become washed away by the water coming out of the shower head. 

You were simply standing there, letting the water fall on your face when you heard the click of the door opening. 

“Julian, sweetie,” you sighed, turning around so you could speak. “Maybe you should go to your dad if something’s wrong, I’ll come out in a sec.” 

“No need,” you heard a voice that did not belong to your son. 

“James? I’m in the shower. What are you doing?” you asked incredulously, feeling the need to cover yourself up even though there was a curtain blocking his view. You felt exposed nonetheless. 

“It’s three in the morning, I thought something was wrong, I came to check on you,” he explained. 

“And what were you doing up?” you asked. 

“Got in late. There was an emergency at the hospital after you guys went to sleep, I dealt with it and just came back.”

You stepped under the running water again, washing the water over your face with your hands. 

“So, is everything okay?” 

“Peachy,” you said sarcastically, leaning against the wall of the shower. 

“Nobody ever says peachy when things are okay,” James pushed further and you sighed, moving to sit down on the floor of the shower, still positioned under the water. 

“I just had a dream, that’s all,” you said, watching as the water hit your toes and the ground around you. 

“A bad dream?” he asked. 

“No, it was more like… déjà vu.”

James sighed, and rubbed his hands on his legs. 

“Was it about us?” 

He took your silence as a yes. 

James didn’t really know what to say, his hands were clasped together as he leaned  forward sitting on the bathroom counter. 

“You’re not gonna ask what it’s about?” you hugged your knees close to your chest. 

“Would you tell me?” 

“Maybe…I don’t know,” you mumbled. 

There was another moment of silence before James spoke up again, 

“What was it about?” 

You turned to face the water with your eyes closed again, gathering the courage to speak. 

“It started when I told you I was pregnant,” you said softly. “Like the memory replayed in my head, exactly how it happened.” 

“I remember that day,” you heard the soft smile in his voice as he spoke. “You took the test at work and when it came back positive you came straight to the hospital to tell me.” 

“I was barely two steps inside your office when I blurted it out, you were eating lunch and had that stupid look on your face with a mouth full of sandwich,” you chuckled to yourself.

“I almost choked on that,” James shook his head. “And I just remember running up to you and freaking out.”

“And then when you were done freaking out and everything sunk in you kissed me, and you told me you loved me, and we cried because we made a child. Our love did that.” 

You reached forward and turned the shower off, pushing yourself up on your feet and taking a deep breath before pulling back the curtain. You had told him what you were thinking. You couldn’t get any more exposed than that.

James looked stunned for a moment and it didn’t go unnoticed how his eyes raked up and down your figure. 

“Get me the robe, would you?” you motioned to the back of the door and he jumped down grabbing the robe and holding it out for you so you could place your arms into the sleeves and wrap the towelled fabric around you, trying it off with the belt. 

When you turned your head to look back at James, you could tell at least you’d succeeded in raising his heart rate, much like he was doing for you recently. 

You moved to go sit on the closed toilet while James retook his spot on the counter. 

“Do you remember when Julian was born?” he whispered. 

“I like it was yesterday. I can’t believe it’s been eight years,” you nodded your head. 

He was having trouble holding your gaze and you wondered what he was about to say. 

“I-I screwed up,” his voice was soft, almost hurt, like it pained him to think about what he had done. “When you were resting afterwards the nurse asked me if we were going to do a newborn screening. We hadn’t talked about it, but you were so tired and it was such a hard labour…” he swallowed thickly, his voice wavering slightly, remembering the birth. It wasn’t easy by any means and James had often thought that the hardest thing he’d ever had to watch was you in that much pain. “I told her we weren’t going to do it. I just didn’t want Julian to leave and h-he looked so perfect I never thought anything could have been wrong with him.” 

James took a deep breath and looked up at the ceiling, “I am a doctor and I didn’t get a newborn screening for my son, what the hell kind of father does that make me?” 

“Oddly enough, I think it makes you a good one,” you admitted. 

“Even though we could have known about this years before? We could have gotten him treatment, medication, therapies, all sooner?” he looked back at you confused. 

“You said it yourself, Jamie. He was perfect for us. Still is.” 

James nodded his head and looked forward at the opposite wall. You stood up and walked over towards him, reaching out a hand to gently hold his face, your thumb brushing against his cheek while he looked at you. 

“I don’t blame you for this,” you whispered. “I don’t blame you and I don’t think you’re a bad father.” 

“I know,” he murmured, “but I do.”

You leaned in and pressed a kiss to his cheek, not knowing what other comfort you could offer. 

James leaned in a little to your touch, sitting up straighter when it was gone, trying to play it off like he hadn’t been missing it and craving it as much as you. 

You were about to say something when you heard a knock on the washroom door, and this time it had to be Julian. 

“Mom? Dad, are you in here too?” you could hear his small sounding voice, a little strained and worried so you quickly assured him you were both inside and opened the door. 

“Sweetheart, what happened?” you asked, noticing his tear-stained face. 

“I just had a bad dream,” he sniffed and wiped his eyes. 

You kissed away his tears first before assuring him everything would be fine, you and James were there to take care of him. 

“Why don’t you go and lay down on my bed with your Dad?” you suggested. “I’ll get dressed and come join you.” 

Julian nodded and made his way over to your bed while you went to quickly speak to James. 

“It’ll be good for you. Both of you,” you told him. 

“You don’t mind?” 

“Just this once.” 

James thanked you with a kiss to your cheek and left the adjoining washroom, closing the door behind him and giving you a minute to get changed and deal with anything you needed to before going back to bed. 

When you opened the door and came back into your room, you saw James under the covers with Julian pressed close to him, their foreheads resting together while James told him everything was going to be alright and he could go back to sleep. 

You slipped in under the covers, sandwiching Julian between you both, letting his back rest against your chest while you pressed a kiss to his hair. 

One hand was tucked under your pillow and another was draped over Julian, and your fingers carefully placed over top of James’. 

“Will you be here when I wake up?” Julian asked his dad. 

“Right next to you,” he kissed his nose. “Now try to get some sleep, okay?” 

Julian nodded his head and yawned and you whispered a quiet goodnight to bed him and his dad before letting your eyes close, silently smiling when you could feel James’ hand finally hold your own. 

—

“You guys, relax, he’s going to be fine,” Mahlet placed a hand on both yours and James’ shoulders while you spewed out your worries. “It’s one night, I have the whole list of things he needs and I’ve taken care of him before, right? It’s just at my house this time so the boys can have a sleepover and you two can have a bit of a break.” 

“She’s right,” James sighed. “I’m still worried out of my mind, but she’s right.” 

“Mahi, are you sure you don’t want us to come even for a little bit?” you asked. 

“Absolutely, if something happens I’ll call an ambulance and then you, but Julian’s been good for months now, he can survive one night away from home,” she assured you. 

“Thank you, Mahlet. I’m sure Julian and Hennock will have a great time tonight. Just call us when he’s ready to be picked up tomorrow morning,” James said. 

James wrapped his arm around you, giving you a squeeze knowing you were still uneasy about this, but deep down you knew Mahlet was right. The chances of something going wrong at this point were small and you’d had enough time since your last hospital visit to even consider doing something like this. 

“You boys ready?” James called and Julian came rushing out of the room with his bag in hand, Hennock following close behind him. 

“You have fun tonight, okay?” you bent down and gave Julian a kiss. “And if anything happens or you feel sick, or are having trouble breathing, tell Mahlet, okay?” 

“I know, Mom. Dad already told me this like fifteen times,” Julian chuckled. 

You looked up at James and he shrugged. 

“Alright, well you guys better go before I change my mind,” you crossed your arms over your chest and that was all the permission the boys needed to run off, leaving Mahlet to say goodbye before stepping out and closing the door behind her. 

You sighed and turned around, looking at James who had his hands shoved into his pockets. 

“You hungry?” he asked. 

“I could eat,” you nodded your head. 

“Why don’t we make something for dinner together?” he suggested. 

You looked at the clock and smiled, “I think we’ve got enough time for pizza, what do you think?” 

“I think that’s a great plan,” James agreed. “I can start on the dough and you get the sauce and toppings?” 

You gave him a thumbs up before putting your hand out to high-five him, noticing how your fingers so easily intertwined before you walked apart and let go. 

James rolled up his sleeves and took off his watch, placing it on the small jewelry tray you kept by the sink for when you were washing dishes, while you went to the fridge and began pulling out all the things that could make good pizza toppings. 

Moving to the sink to wash some vegetables, you noticed James’ watch resting there. You didn’t pay much attention when he was wearing it, but now you realized why it looked extra familiar. It was one you had gotten him as an anniversary present after your first year married. 

“You still wear that?” you pointed with your eyes to the watch. 

“It’s my favourite watch, of course I wear it,” he nodded while portioning the flour into a large bowl.

“Even with that engraving?” you raised a questioning brow. 

“Dearest Jamie, Here’s to the first of many happy anniversaries. Love forever, Your Wife,” he recited the engraving back to you. 

“I don’t know why you do that to yourself,” you chuckled a little, looking down into the sink. 

“Yeah, well why do you still go by Mrs. Wilson?” 

“Easier to keep the name than change it again,” you partially lied, it wasn’t the full truth, but it was what you had been telling yourself ever since the divorce was finalized. 

James could sense you were lying, but he knew the only way to get you to open up would be to let himself be open with you. 

“The watch is my favourite because you gave it to me. Functionally it sucks and it's uncomfortable, but you went out of your way to get me something that looked nice and that’s why I love it.” 

You smiled a little to yourself, but kept your head facing the sink and continued to wash the vegetables. 

“You’re not going to say anything?” he inquired. 

“Do I have to?” you asked. 

“That’s normally how a conversation works,” he remarked and you chuckled. 

“What do you want me to say?” you asked. 

“Honestly, the real reason why you kept your married name,” he said plainly. 

You sighed, “It wasn’t a full lie. If I went back to my maiden name Julian and I wouldn’t have the same last name it just makes things complicated and confusing and I didn’t want to deal with it, but,” you added, “I always kind of liked the sound of Mrs. Wilson and even though I was pissed at you all the time I still liked that there was one thing aside from Julian connecting us. I don’t know, maybe I didn’t want to end up like Sam or Bonnie just…detached, like there was barely a trace that you were even there.” 

“It’s a fingerprint,” James said. “Mine.” 

“Yeah, even though it's small for who we were to each other, it's the fingerprint you left on my life.” 

James pressed his lips together and opened his mouth to say something before shutting it and evaluated how he was going to speak, 

“Can I ask you something?” he settled on. 

“Sure,” you nodded, moving over to the cutting board and placing yourself on the opposite side of the kitchen island. 

“Did…Did you ever stop loving me?” 

Your smile faltered and James noticed the change in your demeanor, quickly retracting his question. 

“You know what, forget I asked,” he shook his head and continued to knead the dough. 

There was a moment of silence before you spoke again. 

“I didn’t, but I got tired of not being loved back.” 

James stopped what he was doing and looked up at you with concern. 

“You thought I stopped loving you?” he asked.

“James, I was wife number three. Didn’t take much to connect the dots and see you got tired of me,” you said bluntly. “I wanted to know if I could count on you, and it was starting to feel like maybe I couldn’t. Then the divorce happened and everything after that just made me feel like I was right.” 

James chewed on the inside of his cheek and remained silent. 

“You didn’t fight for me,” you said quietly. “You fought for joint custody, but you didn’t fight for me. You just…accepted it.” 

“I…I didn’t know you wanted me to fight for you.” 

“Are you saying you would have?” you asked, unsure of whether or not you wanted to hear his answer. 

“I’m saying I thought I didn’t even have a chance,” he admitted. 

“So you wouldn’t have,” you clarified for him, beginning to chop the toppings into pieces and separate them into bowls. 

He chuckled humourlessly, “I have dated one person since the divorce. I hated it.” 

“Why do you have to talk in puzzles, James? Why can’t you just come out and say what you really mean?” 

“And then what?” he asked. “We go back to living in the same house. Sleep in separate rooms. Move on now that we know the truth?”

“Say it,” you put the knife down and looked him right in the eyes. 

“What are you going to do about it?” he asked, cleaning the dough off his hand. “I’m going to say it and you’re just going to stand there and I have to live with that?” 

You walked around the counter and came right up in front of him. 

“If you were listening to anything I was saying, you would stop making excuses and say it.” 

“Fine!” he threw his hands up in the air. “I still love you. I never stopped loving you. These past few months, even though stressful, have been the happiest I’ve been in so long because I feel like myself again when I’m with you and Julian. Because I feel like your husband, and I feel like a father and I keep kicking myself wondering how I could have been so stupid to lose that.” 

“Say it one more time,” you whispered, lifting your hands to hold onto his face. “Please.” 

“I love you,” his voice was softer, relieved like after being underwater he could finally breathe again. 

You finally pulled him into you, your lips hesitantly resting on his at first, before you found your rhythm again after so long. It was muscle memory, his hands finding the spot they always rested against on your hips, his lips moving in synch with yours, eventually trailing off and finding their favourite spot against your jaw and behind your ear. 

“James,” you breathed. 

“Jamie,” he mumbled against your skin. “Call me Jamie.” 

“Jamie, Jamie, Jamie,” you repeated the nickname until he silenced you with another kiss, muffling your voice. 

“God, I missed you,” he whispered when you pulled apart, breathing heavily due to your fast beating heart. 

You closed your eyes while your forehead rested against his, feeling his nose touch yours, his hands still firmly planted on your hips when your thumbs brushed against his cheeks. 

“Jamie?” 

James snuck another small kiss at the sound of the nickname. 

“Yes, my love.” 

“Can I count on you?” 

You could feel him nod his head and confirm with a verbal ‘yes’. And even if it turned out to be a lie, at that moment you didn’t care. He had proved to you that it was possible, you could work with that. 

“I love you,” you said and kissed his nose and then you said it and kissed him again for good measure. “You told me twice; I tell you twice.” 

James moved his hands up from your hips and brushed the back of his fingers against your cheek, a warm smile coming to his face. 

And there was that look, the one you thought had vanished over time. His eyes fully transfixed on you with nothing but love and admiration. It didn’t take much to convince yourself you could get used to seeing that look for a long, long time. 

TAGLIST —

@cuntyvicodin @paola-carter

#james wilson #james wilson x reader #james wilson x you #dr wilson #dr wilson x reader #dr wilson x you #house md #house md fanfiction #house md x reader #hate crimes md #james wilson fanfiction #james wilson fanfic #james wilson fic

[gravehags]

the burn between our hearts

Pairing: Ghouls/Ghoulettes x f!Reader

Rating: Mature

Tags: ghouls doing ghoul shit, depression, tender emotions, surprise papa

Words: 2,524

Summary: You have never felt so lost, so empty before, and you are unsure if what's wrong with you can ever be fixed.

a/n: THIS IS IT the final installment of the ghoul bicycle series. I have had so much fun writing this and who knows, might be tempted to write a little more if inspiration strikes me. See end of post for another note.

~~~

33 days.

It’s been 33 days since you’ve seen or heard from any of the ghouls.

You spent the first two and a half weeks of that in your room, sobbing wildly in bed while Sister Marguerite sat next to you rubbing your back and murmuring words of comfort to you. Truth be told, the steady presence of the middle-aged sister provided a warmth that you desperately needed. She never spoke ill of the ghouls and what they had done to you, instead telling you to be patient. That the Unholy Father always provides. That there’s always more to a bad situation than it seems. All difficult words for you to believe when your heart had been shattered the day after you had left Aurora’s room. Your mind was torn - on one hand you had come to expect this: being cast aside once they were done using you. On the other hand…you really thought you had something special with them. From your first time with Swiss to your last time with Aurora and every interaction with every ghoul in between, you felt like you were finally home. That you had finally found your place in the Ministry, by their sides.

Or not.

After most of your tears dry and your depression lets up to the point where you can leave your bed, you become angry. Fucking infuriated. Even before they were your lovers, they were your friends. And they just ditch you and act like you don’t even fucking exist anymore? Fuck that. One evening, you get so mad you stride down to the ghoul den and begin banging on their bedroom doors, cussing and cursing their names. How dare they treat you like you’re disposable? But that’s been the story of your whole life, you suppose. Everyone gets tired of you eventually. With one last slam of your fist against the wall, hard enough to bruise and shake Cumulus’ door, your tears begin to slip out once more.

“FUCK YOU!” you shout, unsuccessfully holding back a sob. The silence in the corridor is deafening so you turn on your heel and leave without a glance backwards. You don’t see the door at the end of the hall cracking open and eyes watching you go.

You return to your chores in the abbey, ignoring the sneers and dirty glances your fellow siblings give you. You’re well aware you’ve been a nuisance to everyone, being holed up in your room and shirking your duties, and you're wracked with guilt. Sister Marguerite assures you sweetly that it’s okay, everyone goes through rough spells and your absence hasn’t caused any undue burden on the rest of the siblings but you have a hard time believing her. You attend your duties but without any real life in your eyes or spring in your step. When you cry, silently, every once in a while, your sniffles draw rolled eyes and scoffs. The siblings don’t say a word to you, until one day, the dam breaks. You’re in the library and let out a small, embarrassing sob as you shelve a book on love magic when a loud slam echoes throughout the library.

“You are so fucking ridiculous, do you know that?”

You don’t realize she’s talking to you until you turn slightly and see her searing gaze. It’s Sister Tamsin. You don’t know her - not really - but she’s well-liked by a lot of people in the abbey. She’s never spoken to you before this and you frantically wipe your tears as she walks closer to you. A small crowd has been attracted to the two of you now, multiple pairs of eyes shifting between you both.

“Acting this way because of the fucking ghouls. Like you’re supposed to be special or some bullshit. Honey, the ghouls fuck everyone. They can’t help themselves. All of us have had a ghoul proposition us at some point, you’re just the only one stupid enough to fall for it. They’re nothing but fucking animals–”

“They are not animals,” you say loudly in a shaky voice but Tamsin isn’t done berating you.

“--oh look at that! She finally uses her mouth to speak instead of just opening it for ghoul cock and cunt. Go on, sweetheart. Tell us all how those beasts love you so much. Their little whore. Their–”

The slap echoes throughout the large room, but both your hands remain clenched into fists by your sides. Looming over Tamsin’s doubled-over form is Sister Marguerite, looking like fury personified in her neat habit.

“You little cunt,” Marguerite spits, causing your eyebrows to raise. You’ve never heard her swear before. “You know just as well as everyone else in this room - in this whole abbey - how sacred the ghouls are. Summoned by our own Papa from the realm of the Unholy Father to help him spread the word of our ministry. And you dare defile their name - and the name of those they have chosen - for petty cruelty? You are nothing, Tamsin. A jealous little gnat. And rest assured, Papa will be hearing about this.”

No one in the room is stunned quite as much as you as Marguerite abandons the red-faced, humiliated Tamsin in order to come to your side and escort you out of the room with her arm firmly planted across your lower back. When you finally step out of the library, she shuts the door firmly behind her and grabs your biceps, pulling you into a hug.

“Enough is enough,” she murmurs, rubbing your back. “I’m relieving you of your duties for the day. Take care, hon. Go back to your room. I’ll be having a word with our Papa.”

With one last squeeze she hustles down the hall, skirts flying and you’re left shell-shocked in the empty corridor. You rub at your eyes with the heels of your hands before doing as she requested.

Three days pass.

Three days and not a single soul dares look at you sideways let alone speak to you. You notice, with a twisted sense of satisfaction, that Tamsin is nowhere to be found. Not in the library, not in the gardens - you haven’t seen her at mass or in the dining hall. When you quietly ask Marguerite about her she just gives you a beatific smile and says, “she’s no longer a problem for you.” Something within you warns you not to inquire further so instead you go back to your normal life. After you finish a shift in the kitchens for the evening, you step out into the cloisters and head for a small courtyard you enjoy. You plop down onto a stone bench with a heaving sigh, trying to ignore the constant ache in your heart as you breathe in the evening air.

“Is this seat taken?”

Your head whips to the side and when you see a figure dressed in a red tracksuit and the earnest face of Papa Emeritus IV you jump up.

“Papa!” you gasp, curtsying before him. “I–no! Please, sit.”

He lowers himself next to you, putting his gloved hands on his thighs and taking a deep breath.

“Nice out, eh?” he asks quietly. You’ve never seen Papa like this - out of the majority of his papal paints and elaborate robes - and you certainly have never spoken to him in conversation like this.

“Beautiful,” you say, folding your hands in your lap. His eyes lower to watch you rub your fingers anxiously and worry at your cuticles. Gently, he reaches over and places a hand over yours.

“I know you’ve been hurting, sorella,” he murmurs, thumb grazing over your knuckles.

“You…you do?” All of a sudden you’re filled with dread at the thought of your poor mental state and shirked duties being reported all the way to Papa. You open your mouth to explain yourself, to apologize profusely but he speaks first.

“My ghouls,” he begins, “are very peculiar creatures. They don’t take well to most humans.”

“Oh?”

“Sì, sì…they are very protective of each other and of me. And…they don’t take human lovers.”

“They…don’t?”

“Not at all, sorella. Which makes you a very peculiar creature yourself. Something that my ghouls noticed straightaway. Something that they have spoken to me a great length about.”

Your stomach does a backflip and he looks at you with his mismatched eyes.

“Sorella, they wanted me to tell you…it is time. Go to them. Go to the last door at the end of the hallway this evening. I apologize for not telling you more - telling you sooner - but they had much to accomplish and wanted this to be a surprise.”

Your heart feels as if it’s going to burst through your ribcage and tears form in your eyes as you regard him.

“Papa…” you say quietly, your voice cracking, “thank you. Ave Sathanas. Thank you, Papa.”

He smiles at you warmly, and reaches up to briefly cup your cheek before jerking his head towards the corridor behind the two of you.

“Go on, cara. They are waiting.”

Before you can doubt yourself, you plant a brief kiss on Papa’s cheek and scurry off. As you make your way on the familiar path to the ghoul den, your hands shake by your sides. What did Papa know? What did Marguerite know, always reminding you to have faith and patience and guiding you with a gentle hand? When you enter the corridor you force yourself to take a series of deep breaths. Swallowing hard, and guided as if by an invisible hand, your feet take you down the wide corridor, all the way to the door at the end. Your pulse thunders in your ears and after a beat, you raise your fist and knock twice before placing your hand on the knob and turning slowly.

What meets your gaze after the door creaks open instantly brings tears to your eyes.

They’re there - all ten of them - standing in various spots in the large room staring at you. When you choke out a pathetic sob, Swiss is by your side in an instant.

“Hey, babygirl,” he says quietly, hand rubbing between your shoulder blades. “Do you like it?”

When you look up at him quizzically, he gestures to the room. You hadn’t even noticed the setting for all the ghouls you adored so dearly. A bed - a ridiculously enormous bed - is pushed against the far wall. Surrounding the large piece of furniture is a collection of thick cushions and pillows of varying sizes, blankets draped here and there. A dresser stands by the opposite wall and a doorway leads to a darkened room you assumed to be the bathroom. Eyebrows drawn in confusion, you look around at them.

“I…I don’t get it.”

“It’s yours,” Cirrus says, stepping forward and taking Swiss’ place at your side. “It’s what we’ve been doing all this time. We can’t bring a mate into the den and not make them a nest.”

She says it as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world but your jaw falls slack and you hear Aether let out a soft laugh.

“Mate?” your voice is comically high pitched as your eyes dart from Mountain to Sunshine to Aurora, perched on the end of the bed.

“If you’ll have us,” Cumulus supplies quickly, “we’re not going to assume but…”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

You can’t suppress the hurt in your voice and all at once they jump up and crowd around you.

“Love, like Cirrus said, we couldn’t tell you until we made a proper place for you,” Rain says softly, soothingly, “that’s how it’s supposed to be. The pack has to provide for you.”

“We’re sorry we didn’t say anything, though,” Phantom supplies, wringing his hands, “it…it wasn’t right to make you hurt like that. I told the others, but–”

“--But it was better than making you feel like you’ve been strung along. We had to make our intentions perfectly clear by doing this,” Mountain says calmly, gesturing around the room.

“I thought…I thought you didn’t want me anymore. That you didn’t care about me. That you never cared about me. I–” your words break off in a loud sob that has you doubling over on yourself and the ghouls looking anxiously around the room at one another.

“Honey, I’m sorry. We’re so sorry,” Cumulus says as she steps forward to embrace you, “human emotions can be…difficult for us to understand. We’ve never done this before, you know that? We’ve been telling you for so long that you’re special, that you’re perfect. If we didn’t want you we never, ever would have made this for you. You’re the one. You’re the only one for us.”

When you pull back from Cumulus’ arms, uselessly wiping your tears from her shoulder, she cups your face in her palms.

“We adore you. All of us.” The others nod emphatically, all reaching out to touch you in some way. It doesn’t feel real to you, but you drink it in all the same. Gently, you let go of your anger, of your doubt, and allow yourself to be filled with the perfect, aching love that surrounds you in this room.

“Thank you,” you whisper, squeezing Swiss’ hand in your left and Aurora’s in your right. “This is…wow. All for me, huh?”

“All for you,” Sunshine confirms, brushing your hair away from your face. “Does that mean you accept our offer?”

You let them squirm, just a little bit by remaining silent for a few seconds. When the “yes” leaves your lips, the room erupts triumphantly and suddenly your face is being smothered in kisses. When Swiss picks you up bridal style and carries you to the bed, you can’t help but laugh, thinking of your first time. The ensuing days of celebration are filled with as much love as lust, your naked form barely allowed to ever leave the bed and always surrounded by the sounds of pleasure. You’re thoroughly exhausted by the end of the third day, abbey duties completely forgotten and body limp in the soft sheets. Gently, so as not to wake your pack, you raise yourself onto your elbows and look around the room. On your right on the bed is Dewdrop, snoring softly, while Cumulus curls up behind you. Phantom has found a spot at the bottom of the bed and Swiss and Aurora are intertwined on a cushion across the room. Cirrus, Sunshine, and Rain sleep soundly in a pile next to them while Aether lies curled into Mountain. You smile as you regard the forms of your lovers - all ten of them, you want to laugh - and lower yourself back down into the pillow. Cumulus stirs and murmurs something into your hair, and you reach a soothing hand back behind you to scratch gently at her scalp. Dew’s eyes open briefly, glowing in the dim light of the room and he gives you a sleepy smile. Leaning over, you place a soft kiss on his forehead and run your thumb along his cheekbone.

And for once in your life, here at the abbey or otherwise, you are at peace, you are held, and you are loved.

~~~

a/n: if you're wondering what happened to sister tamsin well. ghouls get hungry, don't they?

#nameless ghouls x reader #nameless ghoulettes x reader #nameless ghouls #nameless ghoulettes #the band ghost #the band ghost fic #rachel writes

[phantom-of-the-memes]

The pandemic has truly shown that a big majority of self proclaimed leftists are performative as fuck.

The minute their supposed morals require them to do something that is so MILDLY inconvenient to the them (i.e. wear a mask), it all suddenly goes out the window. This is why us disabled people get left out of the conversation when it comes to leftism.

The beginning of the pandemic, as awful as it was, there was at least some glimmer of hope in regards to disabled rights. For once I saw people I know posting about protecting our lives and the importance of staying home and masking. I was getting tons of support opening up about being disabled and chronically ill.

The thing is though, that this was because they had no other choice! They had to stay home, they had to mask, because it was a mandate! So it was easy for them to think to themselves “wow, I’m so brilliant, I’m doing so much for disabled people”.

When we finally got to go back in person in university, I was so glad to see most people masking. Imagine how gullible I felt the day I walked into the lab when they had removed the mandate the night before, to see not a single person in a mask. Just for some context which makes this even worse; this was a biochemistry/ immunology lab. Our professors were quite literally the ones developing the vaccines in Ireland. Not even they could be bothered to mask.

For the first while my friends would always mask around me because I asked them to. Then it became less and less. They’d pull the ole “omg I’m so sorry I left it at home” shit. Then eventually they stopped giving excuses and just expected me to be ok with them endangering me.

I remember everyone posted about getting vaccinated the first time around. Now as each booster comes out you hear less and less about it, less people getting boosted.

And the pièce de résistance!! Leftist circles… this is the most disheartening. At every leftist gathering/ protest I’ve been to, no one is masking. There’s always this one awkward performative moment where they say some shit about “being mindful of the space you’re occupying”, and they direct people to a box of masks they brought… I’ve never seen one fucker take one. Self proclaimed socialists and communists who “protect the rights of minorities”, don’t give a fuck about disabled people.

They’ll talk the talk, but their actions are so weak. Can’t even wear a piece of fucking fabric on their faces to protect us.

#covid isn’t over #wear a mask #get vaccinated #covid #covid 19 #disabled #spoonie #immuno compromised #chronically ill #chronic illness #disability #disabled rights #disability rights #pandemic #tw ableism #ableism #leftist #socialist #communist #socialism #communism #ireland #irish #lgbt #trans #queer #gay #performative activism

[yanderambling]

Ohh my goodness, can we get more of crimelord and puppy-like reader, with time jump when the reader is receptive and soaking willingly in crimelord' love and loving them back? 🥰🥰🥰 (A huge time jump i suppose haha) Maybe reader even licks/kisses the once-wounded hand? Wagging their tail? Cuddling crimelord to sleep? Nuzzling? Omg now I have hyperfixation

ahh i’m so glad you enjoyed!! thanks for this prompt, i had so much fun with it! i hope you like this one too <3 (it kinda got away from me a bit lol)

pairing: Crimelord!Yan(gn) x Puppy Hybrid!Reader(gn)

words: ~1.4k

if you'd like to read the original post, you can find it here!

CW: 18+, yandere behavior, referenced past abuse, implied ptsd

As soon as you start warming up to them in any given area, Monty pushes a little more. They always move at your pace, but they just want to get as close to you as possible- they’re gentle but damn persistent.

Earning your trust instantly became their top priority, all their ill business delegated to their inner circle, and they don’t regret it a bit. They revel in watching you relax into your new life, and they take every setback in stride, meeting you with nothing but gentleness and endless praise. It’s infinitely gratifying to see you accept comfort and affection, and they give it to you in abundance.

You can be sure that they'll be petting you whenever they have a free hand, nothing calms yet excites them like the slide of your fur through their fingers, and they can’t get over the domesticity of simply sitting down and running their hands over you like it’s the most natural thing in the world (it is, for them at least). If you start getting closer, cuddling, crawling into their lap, they won’t be functional for the next few hours at least- the proximity alone is enough to make them fear hyperventilation, but the thought that you’re seeking them out for comfort (or even just some kind of entertainment in this giant, empty house) makes them dig their nails into their skin to make sure they don't float outside of their body. Sometimes you feel their grip tighten the slightest bit around the back your neck, their arms pull you a little closer, but when you look up they only meet you with a barely stifled manic grin.

Monty would also love to feed you by hand, they’ll do it for every meal if you let them. Once you’re more comfortable, they’d get a little less careful, letting their fingers slip into your mouth from time to time. The feeling of your teeth and tongue against their skin, so gentle now from when they first felt it, leaves them weak-kneed and lightheaded (if you suck on them even a little, they might just faint).

If you were to express remorse over their scarred hand, it would melt their heart, but they would discourage any guilt you might feel. They actually delight in bearing your mark (if you hurt any of their staff while you were still adjusting, they're lucky if all they left their service with was a scar- they weren’t worthy of even the illusion of your claim). Still, they would never stop you from licking them, they'll always take your “kisses” however you’ll give them (your tongue against their skin feels like the caress of an angel, a pureness they can feel cleansing them within, each motion a sacrament).

The first time you wagged your tail when they entered a room, Monty had to check their camera feeds to be sure it even happened. They had walked downstairs in the morning and greeted you in the living room, where you were most mornings you woke early, when they heard the soft, telltale thud thud of a tail against the couch. Sure enough, when they rounded the corner, there you were- a hesitantly friendly grin on your face as the end of you tail tapped a steady rhythm on the cushion. They nearly choked on the emotions that clenched their chest in that moment, and they felt newly rejuvenated in their quest to earn your love trust. Every time you show that same excitement at their presence from then on, it's all they can do not to melt into a puddle at your feet- and it only gets harder as you grow more comfortable.

They would love to give you a collar. They’d give you options, endless varieties of materials and colors and styles for you to try on- you’d probably have to make a whole day of it. They still feel their pulse pick up whenever they look at the proof of your bond, which you so proudly display (to their staff and the few shopkeeps in their pocket that have been sworn to secrecy to provide essential services, and to let you leave the estate on occasion). They often like to just hook their fingers through it and let their knuckles rest against your neck, a sort of subtle claim that settles some primal part of them, if only slightly.

Monty is a pretty big person, and remarkably strong, so you can bet they’ll be picking you up and carrying you around whenever you’ll let them (once they can stop their arms from going weak and shaky every time they feel your body against their chest). They take immense pleasure in scooping you up from wherever you may be- lounging on the sofa, standing in their garden, sleeping in their bay windows- and just carrying you about with them, or sitting you on their lap and stroking you until you settle into a doze (you’ve spent many evenings splayed across their legs or cuddled tot heir chest while they reviewed reports and receipts). They feel their heart soar every time your weight settles into their arms, so completely at their mercy, so hardened to everyone else yet allowing them your complete vulnerability; they could cry. (They have.)

This would probably take the longest, but Monty would never give up hope of getting you to share a bed with them. They might start by letting you sleep in their bed while they sleep on and watch you sleep from a surprisingly luxurious pullout. The sound of your deep, even breaths is almost enough to calm their racing heart- or maybe it’s actually making it go faster. They can't focus on anything else enough to tell, just knowing that you trust them enough to sleep in their room sends them into a flustered, shivering tizzy. They spend most of those nights obsessively memorizing the outline of your silhouette, struggling to convince themself that it wasn’t a dream (maybe they’ve snuck a few pets in when they just couldn’t hold back any longer, the feeling of your fur against their fingers always making their chest clench so wonderfully they've definitely taken closeup photos of your captivatingly peaceful face in the moonlight).

Once you two make it into the same bed for a night, they can hardly contain themself. You actually get a little worried, watching your sweet master shake and shudder in place beside you, their body sweaty and hot to the touch oh sweet lord you’re touching them but when you ask if they’re okay, they just nod fervently (their mouth is too dry to speak, and they’re fairly certain they wouldn’t be able to formulate words anyhow). They don’t really sleep that night either, and it would probably take them a couple nights to make any more moves forward unless you initiate (and that still would be so delightfully overwhelming).

They would try to hold you, ideally you two would cuddle up as close as you could be without being under each other’s skin (though they might actually prefer that). They would be happy with being the big or little spoon, too. Being curled around you makes them feel like they’re protecting you, like you want them to protect you, and they love feeling every line and curve of your body under theirs. But they would also delight in being wrapped in your arms, feeling your comforting weight around them, your breath against their back, letting themself be vulnerable to you.

It would probably take a couple nights before they get any actual rest in that bed. They’ll relish every second.

Waking up to you feels like a dream, and they always have breakfast delivered to the room so they can watch you lounge about, all rumpled and sleepy as you lazily nibble at the bites they hold to your mouth (so different from the frenzied way you used to gorge yourself, like you thought it might be taken from you and you weren’t sure when you’d get more. Monty intends to hunt down every last person that made you feel that way, and they’ve already made good progress).

They can, and do, spend hours upon hours just watching you- basking in a sunbeam on their sofa, napping in bed, exploring their vast estate- they’re basically always with you even when you don’t know it. The only time you two are apart is when they have to take care of business in person, which is pretty rare but still crushes their soul each time it happens.

But it’s necessary, in their mind, to keep you removed from all the sickness and violence in the world; they’re well-versed in dealing with violence, as they know you are too, and the thought of exposing you to anything of the sort is nauseating. They have a need to protect you from that darkness, to ensure that you never feel even a fraction of the way you’ve felt your whole life. And they do just that.

And, as long as you’ll let them (even if you won’t), they always will.

thanks so much for reading! feel free to send a request <3

check my pinned post~

#yandere x reader #soft yandere #gn yandere #gn reader #criminal yandere #hybrid reader #puppy reader #yandere oc #yandere scenarios #yandere requests #requests open #tw yandere

[darkbluekies]

Dr Kry asks #4

Previous one

Concept: I've put multiple asks into one post to avoid too much loose posts on my account! This way, you have more to read too<3

Warnings: mentions of ed, otherwise the normal Dr Kry stuff

I wonder how Dr Kry would feel if his darling developed romantic for him but was waiting to leave the hospital to officially ask him out. They'll say stuff like "I can't wait to leave this hospital bed so we can finally have a proper date together !",  "I would love to go see [movie name] in the theaters with you!" Or "I'd love to be with you but once I get better I promise! You deserve more than the semi-vegetable that I currently am." I guess he'd be a little conflicted, would he let his darling free from the hospital so they can have a somewhat normal romantic relationship or would he keep them here ?

He'd let his darling get well because he doesn't want anything else than the traditional house hold and only keeps them ill because they're not complient. But if they actually do like him and see a future together, then he can begin to live out his dream.

How would dr Kry react to a coworker reader who figures out he’s been telling people they’re dating and tries to leave him?

He'd be flustered. You weren't supposed to figure it out, you weren't supposed to know! He'd try to justify his actions while making you feel bad for leaving him.

"But Y/N, please, I'm doing it for you. If people think that we're together they'll not bother you. I've seen how people eye you in the corridor. It's disgusting. I'm just trying to help, so please don't leave. It hurts my feelings. I'm just trying to help ..."

He might say that you're pretending now, but he'll fake it til he makes it.

At this point I’ll let Dr kry talk for me,like yes please finish of my setences Cuase sometimes words are hard and it’s hard to speak so that sounds amazing

Careful, he will do it. As long as you're around other people, he'll finish your sentences, but he'd like for you to talk to him when you're alone. He loves to hear your voice so much.

I remember when you said that Dr Kry would worsen the toxic air purifier if we ignore him till it hurts too much, me personally I'm petty as hell, he'd have to see me DIE before I speak to him because thats what he gets, I'm petty to the death ✊

I- .... i don't know what to say.

My headcanon voice for Dr. Kry is Sammy Lawrence from Bendy and the Ink Machine.

Omg, you are so big brain. I would say his voice is a tad bit lighter in my head, but other that that, damn.

Does dr. Kry bathe reader or he only does if the reader is very sick?

He does it all the time. Since the reader is too weak and dizzy and everything from the poison 24/7, he doesn't trust them. They could hurt themselves in there. Besides, he likes being able to take care of the reader in every aspect. This is the closest he'll come to their nudity without it being uncomfortable for him.

Would Dr. Kry let the reader customize their hospital room if they asked nicely?

Of course! If he knows that they're okay with being there (and even fix the room to their liking) then it'll just make him happy!

do you think kry would treat darling differently if she has an ED and won’t eat much?i have an ED and just wanted to see how my favorite boy might take it :’) feel free to ignore lol

He will. Every action will be calculated and well thought out to make you calmer and more open to try to eat. He won't force you, but he'll encourage you. He's studied this, he knows how dangerous something like this can be. And that's why he wants to help you as much as possible.

Me whose been sick for 3 weeks with an awful cough and body pains. "Please dr kry come kidnap me..just wanna sleep and not work"Have been working weekends with my sick body because the boss doesn't give sick leave for flu

Careful, he will do it.

I love dr kry but he drinks coffee all the time so his breath probably STANKS. Hes a 10 but he has constant coffee breath.

Well DUH HE IS A COFFEIN ADDICT. don't bully him :(

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere drabbles #yandere oc x you #yandere oc x reader #yandere doctor #yandere male #yandere asks

[utilitycaster]

Do you think that Laura and Marisha are deliberately making their relationship somewhat toxic and unsustainable or do you think they see the relationship as healthy? It is just so different from all of the other relationships they have been a part of and not really in a good way. Would love to get your perspective on it if you have one

I am honestly unsure. I would like to say it's deliberate. Prior to it becoming canon, in fact, I, and a lot of other people who were less than enthused by Imogen and Laudna's romance and weren't entirely sold from the start, made the case that we expected they would be talking to each other and would put together a compelling story, not the dull fluff so common in fanon. While whether it's compelling is a subjective judgment, we know for a fact they didn't talk to each other. We know for a fact Marisha was surprised by the question of "Can I kiss you," and Laura was surprised by the answer. We know from a 4SD not long after (4SD #16, Kiss and Tell) that several episodes later they still hadn't talked. We know that Marisha perceives Laudna as holding Imogen back (and that Laudna perceives herself as doing so) from the Rose City Q&A. We know that from 4SD #20 (Episode Twenty) that Laura doesn't like conflict in narrative and Marisha does, and that Laura was thrown by Laudna's regression following Ashton's attempt to absorb the shard (4SD #19, Shard Candy).

I don't know if it's deliberate or not; I don't have any extra insight that isn't public knowledge any fan can easily access. But man, it doesn't feel like these are two actors on the same page about what's going on.

I've touched on this before but mostly in tags or whisper posts but I've always felt ill at ease with a number of for lack of a better term "fandom-approved opinions" and one of the ones that has baffled me the most is this idea that Marisha and Laura have exceptional chemistry. I watched Campaign 1 knowing the endgame ships but deliberately avoiding the fandom, and Vex and Keyleth did not even once occur to me as a thing. I watched the first year of Campaign 2 without a ton of fandom interaction because I was avoiding additional C1 spoilers and it seemed crystal clear that the obvious ship was Beau and Yasha; it felt like Beau and Jester only even had enough potential for me to multiship it as my general "whomever Jester picks" for like, 30 episodes. And yet people - people who didn't even ship either of the above ships and in some cases disliked them- would just say "oh man I can't wait until we get to a campaign where we can finally explore Marisha and Laura's incredible chemistry!" and it's like. I feel like I'm the kid in the Emperor's New Clothes on this! I understand that chemistry is to an extent a matter of taste and subjectivity, but it just increasingly feels like people looked at two campaigns of tables where Ashley was frequently absent and said "well, if I want an F/F ship that's between two of the women in the cast, I guess this is what I have to work with" and repeated to themselves that a flat pamplemousse La Croix was a Piña Colada until they started to believe it. I mean if someone wants to explain it to me in good faith I suppose be my guest and I will try to take it in, but it feels like people just treat this as incontrovertible fact and if you doubt it they're like "don't you have eyes" and it's like, well, pretend I don't. Explain like I'm eyeless and five because I have never understood this. They both have more chemistry with every single other cast member; it's not all romantic but man, I didn't even buy Laudna and Imogen as platonic best friends of two years. I have never had this problem with any other pre-existing character relationships Marisha and Laura have played, platonic or otherwise. It's literally just them. I just never feel like they're quite on the same page.

Back to the relationship between Imogen and Laudna onscreen, this was easily the best conversation since the start of the gnarlrock fight, and it is my hope it doesn't fizzle out the way that did. You can't keep kissing Laudna whenever she fears she's lost forever to Delilah, Imogen. Or you can, but that won't fix the problem. Again: are you disgusted? Do you feel betrayed? If you're not, why did you say that? If you are, how will you move past it? Do you want to be with someone who never feels like they're good enough for you? Laudna, do you want to be with someone who, no matter what they say, you feel you're holding back?

Early in the campaign, my feeling was that of our current situation, switched - Imogen felt her powers were a burden and a curse and Laudna kept referring to them and to her glowingly. It's just...ships passing in the night, no pun intended here. I hope it's on purpose and whatever comes from it is a good story - and either a tragedy or a happy story could be a good one. But I have a nagging sensation that Laudna wants out but is afraid to say no, and Imogen is afraid to let go, and I honestly don't know if the actors have realized this impasse and how the characters might resolve it, one way or another, besides the insufficient bandaid of a kiss whenever the conversation gets too uncomfortable.

#answered #minxie-the-sabertooth-kitty #really the mission statement of this blog is I am the kid in the Emperor's New Clothes #also i know i keep relying on food metaphors sorry i really like food and feel it's fairly universally accessible to understand #anyway. i am sure some will not believe me here but I think I and most people who agree with me desperately wish we liked this ship #i do not think most people who dislike it are actively hoping it crashes and burns it's just #it feels so fundamentally disconnected and lifeless. at least the conflict shocks it into something vaguely animated #the vindication i was right about this lack of chemistry is still ultimately a consolation prize. i promise you i'd rather be proven wrong #i'd rather be wowed by a brilliant dynamic ship i didn't expect to like. but here we are. #cr spoilers #long post

[horseshoegirl]

Set Me Alight: Part 2 - Abracadabra

📜Hey, All 💛I didn't intend for there to be a gap between this part and the last, but I had to take some time away. Unfortunately and sadly, my grandmother passed away two weeks ago. She had been ill for some time, and I had been helping to support her care at her home since I last posted.

Anyway, thank you all for the support on the first part!!! I love how you all have taken to Midge! I've changed the lineup a little bit as I decided to make this its own part! It's like I said, I'm just letting my mind take me where it wants to go for this one!

❗️+18, Strong Language, Enemies to Lovers, Original Female Character, Short OFC, Bradley Bradshaw x Natasha Trace, flashbacks to college, strong language, insecure Midge, Alcohol, Halloween, mentioning stereotypes and pranks (scaring someone). 

#3.6k Words

Part 1 | Masterlist | Part 3

*THAT Morning Four Years Ago*

It wasn't one of Natasha's brighter ideas. No, it was probably one of the most foolish things she could have ever come up with since deciding to come live with you. But you suppose, in the end, you understood why she wanted to do it. 

Your shared apartment off campus was ideal for this type of thing. Away from prying eyes, away from campus security and the head of the dorm rooms. It belonged to your Aunt, once a warehouse now completely renovated into an industrial apartment. So Space was never an issue and you had no neighbours, hence why she wanted you to stay here as you completed your fine arts degree - every college frat boy and popular girl's dream come to life. 

It was also probably one of the reasons why Nat came up with this idea, wanting to get you up and out of your studio long enough actually to meet people. If you weren't going to detach yourself from a paintbrush, from your school notes, she was going to take matters into her own hands and bring people to you.

Halloween became her perfect excuse to do just that.

When she broached the topic of throwing a party one night as you stood in front of a massive canvas, you immediately wanted to throw your painter's palette at her head. Take college and a party on a night where anyone had any excuse to dress up as who they wanted and drink whatever they wanted to spooky season-themed music and put them together?

A terrible idea. Plain and fucking simple.

 It warranted trouble and unnecessary drama. Drama you wanted no part in. These things always got out of hand without meaning, too, and you knew someone would manage to hook up in either one of your bedrooms or even the bathroom before the night was over. Or passed out drunk on the floor.

She didn't protest when you said no. In fact, she left it alone for the rest of the week.

Then came the subtle bribes. 

A cup of coffee in a new Halloween-themed mug was in her hands as she woke you up one morning to ensure you'd make it to class on time. When you came home from working at the campus art store, there was a new set of black and orange acrylic paints sitting on the kitchen island. She had even planned a Halloween movie night - Practical Magic and Rocky Horror and Beetlejuice - with all the fixings and morsels of candy you could eat.

She asked you again two weeks to the day. While you were slightly more willing to agree that it might be a nice idea, you were still cautious about having a party... particularly about who she would invite.

While she might have left her sorority after all that drama, Nat still had friends in that community she was close with. Friends, you were positive, talked shit about you behind your back without really knowing you. The question of why Nat would befriend someone like you was probably the main course for the dishing of gossip.

Bradley would also come, which you didn't mind whatsoever. You liked him, and he treated Nat well. But Bradley's presence would warrant an invitation to his friends - literally the entire football team. And their friends. And their girlfriends.

Your answer was the same. 

"Still no."

But the bribes didn't stop there. No, they extended into multiple drives to Party City while saying the two of you could go to the big art store on the corner of Brant Street - the one you always said you wanted to go to but never had the time. It was in the Amazon orders that showed up at the door, and it was in the pack of Lime White Claws she'd bring home from the liquor store. It was the playlist full of instrumental Halloween covers, almost always on repeat as the two of you studied together.

Nat had been conditioning you to give in all along, slowly wearing you down while she prepared for the eventual, forthcoming yes.

When you finally figured it out, you were mad. Mad that she would do something behind your back like this and think she could treat you like that. But it didn't last long. Instead, you came to the realization that maybe she had been missing the social interaction that came with living with a sorority. That she had been missing her friends. She was living here now, and despite your best efforts, she still needed to know this place was hers as much as it was yours. 

Maybe hosting a Halloween Party wouldn't be a bad thing after all?

The morning of the party, you had woken up early. Earlier than Nat. It was still dark out as you dragged the many boxes of supplies and decorations out into the living space. You had thrown a few pieces of rolled-up fabric over your shoulder and tossed them into the big armchair once you figured out what boxes held what decorations. The first box had the string lights the art department had loaned you, and when you opened it up, readying yourself to untangle the monstrosities, you had the surprise of your life: uncovering a realistic spider thrown into the mix. 

Curse the bloody art department for playing a prank on you. 

When Nat finally got up that morning, sunlight now streaming through the windows, she was welcomed to the sight of said lights having been strung along the ground, ready to be put up and hung from the wall. She had to step around carefully and through the wires, worried about stepping on a light bulb, as you had aligned them all with the wall sockets, already attempting to daisy chain the hell out of them.

"Maeve?"

"Over here!" you called out.

Nat followed your voice down the hall, only to find you standing on a ladder, plastering the stripe of LED lights into the edge of the wall and ceiling. The piles of fabric had been pooled on the top step, and she figured out you were attaching them at the same time as the lights, letting the material fall down the wall to create an interesting ambiance for tonight.

"This is..." she trailed off, looking at all the boxes and materials you'd spent your waking hours organizing. You turned on the ladder, holding on to the edges of a black piece of fabric.

"It's a lot, I know," you quickly answered her. "But you told me to go crazy with decorations, and I am an artist."

"It's not that..." she trailed off, reaching down to scoop a handful of spiders into her hand, letting them fall back into the box. "I'm just wondering if we should have started yesterday."

You placed your hands on your hips, eyeing her carefully. "We couldn't have. You had that test, and I had that art project to finish."

You may have gone overboard for a simple Halloween party. But you wanted this to be special... and you ever half-assed anything in your life if you could help it.

"We can manage, don't you think?" you tried to convince her, turning back to hook the piece of fabric in your hand into the ceiling. 

Nat reached into the back hem of her sleep shorts, finding her phone plastered up against the skin of her back. "Nope, I'm going to call in the cavalry."

"The cavalry?" you questioned aloud. The second you let the black fabric fall to the ground, you realized who she was talking about.

"Oh, no way!" you shouted out, immediately stepping down from your advantage point to stop her from sending that text. Already, Nat had stood in the process of writing out said message when you hit the floor. You cursed yourself for leaving out so many tripping hazards as you raced to stop her.

"As much as Bradley would help because you asked him to, all the other guys on the team are going to scoff and laugh and not see the worth in something like this!"

Nat only laughed at your protest, hitting send and holding her phone out of your reach as you lunged for it. "You clearly don't know them like I do."

"No, I don't," you argued back, trying to swipe at her phone, hoping once you managed to get it, you could hit resend on the message before Bradley saw it. "I'm a small geek of a person that doesn't do all the popular group shit. I'm not even in their league!"

"That's not true, and you know it!"

Nat used your height to her advantage, holding her phone high above her head, well out of your reach. You even tried to jump, but Nat quickly saw what you were attempting to do. "Midge, stop it," she chided playfully but with an undercurrent of seriousness. "You always sell yourself short. Those guys aren't the judgmental jocks you think they are. You need to meet people! Mingle!"

Giving up on the battle for her phone, you dropped your hands to your hips, cocking your eyebrow. "Really? Sell myself short?"

Nat grimaced, dropping her hand. "Sorry, poor choice of words."

You weren't mad. Not really. Cause the second you dropped your hand, you lunged, successfully grabbing her wrist only to peel her phone out of her hand.

"Maeve!"

You knew each other's passwords, so getting into her phone wasn't an issue. But it was too late. As you went to swipe for the message, there, on her screen, was a reply from Bradley.

We'll be there after lunch &lt;3

"Shit!" You shouted out, dropping your head back on your shoulders. With your eyes closed, you held out her phone, urging her to take it back. She stood there with an amused smile on her face, crossing her arms as she took you in. 

"It's not going to be that bad, Maeve." 

"You don't know that," you cried out. "I don't want our place to turn into some frat house blowout." 

"Frat house blowout? Really?" she laughed, taking her phone back from you. 

"You know what I mean." 

You finally opened your eyes hesitantly to see a soft expression across Nat's face. Her optimism was infectious, one of the many things that drew the two of you together as friends. It brought you back to that moment in time when the two of you realized that in that small corner of the library, you'd have to pull an all-nighter to get your assignment done. 

It was that same face staring back at you, wide and hopeful, asking you to trust her. 

"The football team isn't that bad. It's only Bradley's friends who are coming to help out. I promise they will behave and at the first sign of trouble, or the first art diss, they will have to answer to me, okay?" 

You bit your lip, working the soft flesh hard between your teeth. "The first art diss, I don't care, I'm unleashing my wrath." 

Nat punched the air dramatically, her eyes sparkling with excitement and sheer amusement. You shook your head, wondering if you were going to come to regret this. 

"Besides," she added causally. "A lot of them are single?" 

You grumbled out a string of words, stomping off as best you could with the lights in the direction of your room, willing whatever you needed to get through the rest of the day would grace you with its presence. 

Nat was still laughing when you slammed the door. 

—

"You got your costume ready?"

You smirked at her words, knocking her shoulder as she sat next to you on the couch. You teased out, "Wouldn't you like to know?"

All had been forgiven once you remerged from your room, realizing that maybe a little help wouldn't be such a bad thing. The feeling didn’t last long, though, your head now full of completing thoughts such as, “They are not going to like me,” and “They are going to fuck up your decorations so bad nobody is going to want to come back.”

Maybe your guests will get too drunk to notice.

Nat smiled at you, all toothy and wide. "Maeve! You spent hours at that sewing machine. And here you were, so against having a Halloween party. Come on... I know you... you're excited!"

Hiding your emerging grin, you shook your head, pinning another spider into the fake cobwebs. "It's an art cliche, according to your standards."

She pouted, handing you another handful of the tiny black things. "Just tell me, please?"

Cupping the creepy fake things into your hand, you regarded her sad expression with a shake of your head, knowing you'd have to give her a little bit of detail if you wanted to get out of this one without completely spoiling the surprise.

"It's orange and inspired by a piece of artwork. That's all I'm going to say on the matter."

Nat dramatically stopped her foot out of good fun, making you chuckle.

"You're the one who didn't want to take that bird art history course I recommended. The orange would have been a dead giveaway."

"If it's anything like the dress you helped me make for mine..."

You shushed her, handing her the cobweb so she could put it in one of the boxes next to the couch.

The two of you were trying to organize the decorations for what you wanted into boxes and spread them across the apartment to make it easier for the guys. The hallway to your bedrooms, the bathroom, the kitchen, the living space, everything save for the things you wanted to tape to the ceiling and the lights, all had multiple piles. 

After you finished with the cobwebs, the two of you decided to cut lengths of streamers and start taping them to the ceiling in intricate patterns. Standing on a ladder, you reached out for a couple at a time from Nat, who was handing them to you with ease. You had your earphones in as you worked, as did Nat, who routinely counted out the same lengths of black and orange streamer each time. 

She suddenly tapped you on the leg, and you twisted on the step, pulling out an earphone.

"I'm going to make sure the drinks are ready for when the team arrives."

You waved her off, pushing the tiny device back in, hearing nothing but music as you stretched to pin the end of the streamer up against the junction of the wall.

You worked for a little bit more, alternating between the orange and black material, hoping it would look like what you pictured inside your head when all was said and done. That was until you felt another tap on the outside of your thigh.

Twisting on the ladder, you half expected to see Nat handing you another cutting of orange streamer. Only, you came face to face with Bradley, way too close for comfort, a shit-eating across his face. You shrieked, and the action was enough to make you lose your footing on one of the higher steps. 

Unfortunately for you, you lost your grip on the side of the ladder, and you flailed out your arms in some last-ditch attempt to save yourself. Your eyes instinctively slammed themselves shut against your will, and no matter where you flung your arms out to grab onto something, your arms only cut through thin air.

It happened in a matter of seconds, and you were hopeless to do anything but fall. 

Awaiting the impact of the hard floor, you stocked up, bracing yourself for the pain. Instead, you were surprised when you hit a pair of soft, strong arms, your body being cradled sideways across a massive chest.

It took you a second to realize there was an actual hand gripping your waist. And another holding your legs. The grip is tight, and whosoever arms you in, they feel secure, protective even. You even go as far as to say the chest you're pressed against is also reassuring, the sensation of firm muscles beneath the fabric of his shirt expanding and contracting against your body grounding. 

With the knowledge you weren't going anywhere, nor were you falling to your demise, you opened your eyes up to the face of your timely saviour. But it wasn't the outline of his nose or the sharpness of his cheekbones that drew you in. It wasn't the colour of his hair or the smile stretching across his face either. It was, to a pair of eyes, the greenest shade you had ever seen.

His mouth was forming words, but you couldn't hear what he was saying over the music blasting in your ears. Panting hard, you shifted in his arms, leaning down so he'd set you back down on your feet gently. Your fingers trailed down his arms, feeling the strong muscles flexing underneath your touch as you regained your footing.

You pulled your earbuds from your ears, gasping out, "What?"

"He said I shouldn't kill one of our hosts," Bradley pipped up from behind you, fiddling with one of the remaining balls of the streamer.

There was a quip forming somewhere in the back of your mind, readying itself to be unleashed on Bradley. Something along the lines of, “You don’t say?” or the more vulgar, “What the fuck were you thinking scaring someone on a fucking ladder?” but they never came.

You were too entranced by the man currently standing in front of you, a self-assured smirk across his face.

“Thank you,” you managed to exhale instead. The man dramatically bowed, holding out his hand palm up in a grandiose gesture that reminded you of a gentleman from a period drama. Still leaning over, he lifted his head, the same smirk still plastered across his face.

“Jake Seresin,” he offered coyly. “Your saviour.”

You laughed softly, trying to stop the shake in your hand as you reached for his. “Saviour, huh? Are you in the business of saving women from falling off ladders?”

Jake's reply came with a twinkle in his eye and a soft squeeze of his hand, "Just the pretty ones."

Warmth spread across your cheeks, and embarrassment flooded your chest. You hoped the blush wasn’t too noticeable or that your pulse wasn't jumping out of your throat. 

“Oh, don’t fall for his charms, Maeve. I mean, he has some redeeming qualities, but Casanova here is hardly worth a catch,” Bradley remarked with a casual smile, catching the ball of streamer he tossed up only to throw it at Jake. 

Jake’s hand flew up, grabbing the flimsy material effortlessly somewhere behind you. Standing there, you couldn’t help but feel a flutter in your stomach as he brought his hand between the two of you, handing it to you. You took it without bothering to look at his hand.

“Maeve,” he rolled the name off his tongue. “You don’t hear that name that often. It’s that Irish?”

You opened your mouth to reply with something about how it literally meant, ‘she who intoxicates,’ when Nat suddenly turned on a speaker, the apartment literally sounding like something out of a nightclub to remixed Halloween music. She ran towards you, and Bob, Ruben, Javy, and Mickey were on her heels. The second she was within arm's distance, she hooked her arm through yours, calling out, “Shots!”

You shot Jake a desperate look, mouthing, “Help me,” as you let Nat drag you away from him. Jake chuckled, following the pair of you to the kitchen with Bradley making a grab for the hair on the back of his head, successfully pulling him into a headlock only to mess up his hair.

Nat let you go when the pair of you reached the counter, making for the tequila first before Bradley. As the others crowded your kitchen island in search of a drink, Jake placed a gentle hand on your back, guiding you to the empty side of the counter. He seemed at ease as he carefully swiped two tiny red solo cups from under Nat's nose as she started taking orders from the rest of the group and placed them down on the counter. 

Jake reached for the bottle of whiskey and held it out between the two of you. He shook the glass bottle, making the brown liquid slosh around.

"Wanna shot?"

You nodded once, watching admiringly as Jake expertly twisted the cap and poured out two shots into the tiny red cups. From behind his frame, you could see the pumpkin Nat and you had carved a few nights ago into a Jack Skellington face, silently judging you. Setting the bottle aside, he handed you one of the cups, and you fought with yourself not to fumble it.

He held his up as you let your hand remain frozen mid-air, a toast on his lips. But somebody shouted out, "Wait!" and Jake dropped his hand, turning to face them with a scowl. 

"Everyone get over here!" Nat yelled out, pulling you away from Jake by your arm again before you could even utter a thanks. She made sure everyone gathered around in a circle with their chosen drink in hand before she lifted her cup up high.

"Cheers!" she shouted. Everyone mocked her shout, lifting all the tiny cups up to hers. The plastic crunched as they touched, liquid sloshing over the sides. Your laugh echoed Nat's as your hand became soaked, and on the opposite side of the circle, your eyes caught Jake's as he grinned at the sight of you.

You smiled right back, never taking your eyes off him as your lips met the tiny rim of your red solo cup.

She doesn't hate him yet!

Tag List:

@desert-fern @sarahsmi13s @teacupsandtopgun @fanficfandomlove @dakotakazansky @startrekfangirl2233 @hookslove1592 @dizzybee03 @kmc1989 @lynnevanss @dempy

@shanimallina87 @wildxwidow @keyrani @atarmychick007 @buckysteveloki-me @trickphotography2 @stargazer-88 @tinytotontheoversizedpony @alldaysdreamers @The-dark-and-the-mystery

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Taglist Form for those who are interested!

-Lucky/Wickett/Em

Part 3: You're so Vain - In progress

#horseshoegirlwrites #jake seresin fanfiction #hangman x oc #hangman fanfiction #jake seresin #top gun fanfiction #top gun au #hangman top gun #top gun fan fiction #top gun fanfic #top gun fic #top gun hangman #top gun maverick fanfiction #top gun maverick fic #top gun x reader #jake hangman x reader #jake hangman x you #jake seresin fic #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin imagine #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin imagines #jake seresin x oc #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #jake seresin x y/n #jake seresin imagine #hangman seresin x reader #hangman x reader #hangman x you

[mastermindmiko]

Secrets

Pairing: Remus Lupin + fem!reader

Word count: 1411

Summary: You and Remus have been together for a while. He's been keeping secrets and you've had enough.

Warnings: negative emotions? breaking up. angst with a happy ending

an: two marauders posts? is this beginning of an era?

hey! if you think this didn't completely suck, feel free to check out my masterlist.

Remus this has been keeping secrets. The reason why I know this is because I know him, or at least I thought I did.

Even before we became official, I always knew that he was hiding something. His disappearances, his mother's illnesses, and his father's random need to need him back home. And even, dare I say it, his scars. I love them in every way. I don't believe that they are flaws like he does, instead, I believe that they only enhance his appearance. However, I do understand that it is unusual for a teenage boy to have them littered across all his body and his face starting from even his first year.

This thing that he had to hide, it never bothered me before. Maybe because I was spending less time with him or maybe because I didn't love him back then. Since we've become official about a year ago, I started to notice it a bit more since he will randomly be very opposed to going out at certain times. Or he would snap at me when we are simply studying together.

I always understood because I get it. His world isn’t supposed to revolve around me? He doesn't have to tell me everything but it's hard to be understanding when you don't really know what you're supposed to understand.

I never pressure him even though I know that it's eating me inside. Maybe they need to help him too, because every time he randomly disappears or goes to help his father, or check up on his mother. I feel like the shine in his eyes dims every time.

I want to help, I want to know what makes the boy I love hurt. I want to make it go away and maybe even fight it to do so.

What hurts me the most is that his friends know. James, Sirius and Peter, all all know, but he never once told his own girlfriend. I would try to find out myself, but I wouldn't want to invade his privacy. Instead, I wait for him to come to me, if he comes...

"Maybe we can go out next weekend instead." Remus suggests, and I frown, it's supposed to be this weekend, not any other one. I ask, "Why not this one?"

"I have-"

"Things to do, your father needs you, there's a prank you need to pull. What excuse are you going to give me this time?" I snap, I shouldn't have, but this weekend is important. If I'm being honest, I could've listed off all the excuses he's given me for hours. I had them all memorized.

"You don't need to act like this. I don't have to go out with you every weekend, we spend enough time together as it is. I don't have to explain myself, I said next weekend." He snaps, and a part of me feels like I deserve it for getting angry first, but I still feel the ache in my chest.

I gulp as I watch him gather his books in a huff and leave the library. When I can no longer see him, I cover my face with my hands and a few tears fall. I feel pathetic, but can you blame me for not wanting to spend our anniversary alone?

~~~

I'm going to talk to him, I'm going to find out what he's been hiding and we're going to talk about it because this is a relationship, he doesn't get to keep secrets as long as they effect me.

It's been a few days since I had that fight? with Remus. I've barely seen him around, but in a way, it helped me.

I first went insane trying to think of what he's been hiding. The possibilities of him cheating have come to mind several times, thinking about why, with who, and when, but ultimately I decided that Remus wouldn't cheat, at least I hope not.

Then came the idea that he might not love me anymore, but he's only told me that he did two months ago, so could he have loved me and then stopped so quickly? I didn't know, what I knew is that I did still love him, and if he didn't love me anymore, I'd rather not waste my time and postpone the heartbreak.

It was after breakfast, and I heard a few first years talking about how the famous Gryffindor boys (Remus, James, Sirius and Peter) were in the hospital wing. I assumed of course that it was because of a failed prank, wouldn't be the first time one of those happen.

I knew Remus was too smart to get involved in anything that could fail, so I assumed that he would be fine. I reached the hospital wing, and Peter's the first one that saw me. He tapped Sirius who looked at me, eyes went wide, then tapped James who had done a similar reaction.

Peter quickly closed the curtains around one bed, and they all came rushing to me, all of them, except Remus. I panic, I rush over to them, but they meet me half way and start turning me around the opposite way. I say, "Is Remus okay? why's he here? what happened?"

I sputter a lot more questions but they already have me out of the wing. They all look panicked possibly more than me. James speaks out first, he rubs a sheepish hand to the back of his neck and says, "Remus is fine, he just had a bit of a headache this morning."

"Well, if he's fine, then I can go see him." I say, and try to push past them, but they hold both my arms to steady me in place. Sirius says, "Yes, but uh- he doesn't want a lot of noise, so we can't let you go in there."

"And of course, when someone wants some peace and quiet they go to you guys." I say, pointedly and give them all unconvinced look because I was unconvinced. Why were they hiding my boyfriend from me? Unless...my boyfriend is the one that wanted to be hid from me. I frown, "Does Remus not want to see me?"

The boys stutter around and look at each other panicked, wondering what to say. They all begin sentences unsure, and it only makes my frown deepen, he doesn't want to see me. James says, "Of course, he wants to see you, just not right now."

Sirius elbows him when he notices my expression turn sadder after James' words. I nod my head and I feel my eyes begin to burn. No, I wasn't going to cry and especially not in front of them, they'd tell Remus in a flash. I take in a deep breath, and say, as steadily as I can, "Well, I wouldn't want to force myself on him, so, uh, tell him I hope he gets well soon, and that we need to talk."

I can see their faces change after I say those last few words. It wasn't a secret that 'we need to talk' was the beginning of every break up talk in the world, but I didn't want that to happen. I loved Remus, we just needed to improve our communication.

I head back to the common room, and on my way there, I can't think of anything else, but the fact that Remus didn't want to see me. My thoughts trace back to the idea that he doesn't love me anymore. They go downhill from there, and I ask myself, what if he really is cheating? Maybe he's too busy with another girl to notice the one he already has.

I bump into someone, and I notice who it is by the flaming red hair. Lily grabs my forearms to steady me and herself, making sure neither of us falls. She chuckles, "Sorry about that, I wasn't looking at where I was going- are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." I say and I give her an unconvincing half assed smile. she frowns and I bitterly chuckle, "Things just haven't been going well with Remus lately."

She turns white and starts to fumble. She avoids my gaze and shifts on her feet. She stutters, "He's got a lot going on lately, he's been busy with...um stuff. I'm sure it'll be over in a few days."

"He told you." I say and it's a revelation that shocks me. He told Lily. He told James, Sirius, Peter and Lily, but not his girlfriend. She starts to fumble for excuses, but it doesn't matter because I already make my away past her and get to common room as fast as I can. I need to be alone.

Luckily, my dorm is empty. People have already gone to classes, but I don't think I can. My heart sinks and I can't believe that my boyfriend doesn't trust me with whatever secret he's got. I try to stop the tears that start flowing, but I cant.

He forgot our anniversary, and he's keeping secrets, secrets that he's told everyone close in his life, but me. A secret that he's been hiding for who knows how long. He doesn't want to see me either. I sob harder and I keep on asking myself what's going on in this relationship that is beneficial for me, and isn't' hurting me.

Maybe it's time that Remus and I break up.

~~~

"Hi, James told me that you wanted to talk." Remus says, two days later. He catches me right as I'm about to leave for another lesson. I check my watch, I have ten minutes before I need to get to class, maybe now's the time to do this.

"I do want to talk."

"James told me that it's going to be something bad, but I know you, I know us. I told him it was nothing." Remus chuckles and I feel myself getting guilty. I push that feeling away, I wasn't the one keeping secrets. I don't say anything in reply and Remus' grin fades.

"It's nothing, right?" Remus asks, with a frown. He takes a few more steps towards me, and I feel my heart race like it always does when he's near. I realize I won't be able to do this if he's any closer. I place a hand between us and he stops.

I hop on the desk, and I avoid his gaze. This should be simple I'm the one who decided, it isn't like he's the one ending this, I am. I look at him, take in a break then exhale. I say, "I think we should break up."

I didn't think anything could've hurt me more that what Remus has done to me, but the look on his face after I said those six words...nothing can describe it. I takes a step closer to me and I shuffle away. The pain becomes etched deeper into his face.

He still reaches out a hand and grabs mine. He looks up at me and his eyes water. He stutters, "B-but why? I love you. Don't you love me too?"

"Of course I do."

"Then why are you doing this? I don't want to break up. I don't ever want to break up. I actually think this happened in a nightmare before." Remus says, and his tears escape his eyes one by one. I say, "Because you're keeping things from me, Remus."

"I don't want to break up, but there's something going on with you, and you don't want to tell me about it-"

"I can't-"

"Yes you can, you very well could when you told James and Sirius. Peter and Lily, you told them all but not me. This isn't about you keeping something to yourself, this is about you trusting me." I explain, I sniffle, I didn't notice when I started crying. I say, "You even forgot our anniversary."

His face comforts with realization. He smacks a hand to his head, and he grips my hand with both of his and he squeezes. He pleads, "I'll make it up to you, please."

"That's not enough-"

"I'll spend every free moment I have with you."

I shake my head and lower my gaze to the floor. He says, "I'll buy you gifts, so many you won't be able to count them. Please, I don't want to lose you. I love you."

"I want you to tell me."

"I can't...you'll hate me." Remus says, and he looks down to the ground. I say, "You're losing me by not telling me."

He doesn't say anything, and I believe he's contemplating walking out right now. It would hurt, but it would make the getting over him process much easier. He takes in a deep breath, and he holds my hand tighter. I realize that he's going to tell me. He opens his mouth then closes it. I say, "Take your time."

"I-I'm a werewolf." Remus says, and I have to say, it makes sense. The scars, the attitude, everything. Even his disappearances happen on a monthly basis, it adds up in every way. I'm surprised, but it doesn't change anything. I say, "Okay."

"I tell you my biggest and possibly only secret and you're answer is okay." Remus says, and I nod my head. I shrug my shoulders and say, "What do you want me to say? It makes sense."

"I doesn't change the way you think of me." Remus asks, and I furrow my eyebrows. I hesitate before saying, "I think it makes you sexier."

"what?"

"You know, I just-" I stutter and flush pink, "It's just so brave that you go through that every month and you know these are kind of like your battle scars."

I smile sheepishly and trace on of the scars on his arms. He looks at me incredulously and he chuckles a bit. He repeats, "You think it makes me sexier? but werewolf are classified as monsters."

"You're a cute, sexy, book-loving, sock folding monster then." I chuckle and he does the same thing. He presses a kiss to my forehead and he wraps his arms around me in a big hug. I mutter, "I really wish you could've told me sooner."

"I didn't want you to hate me."

"I don't think I could ever hate you." I say, and he looks at me as if he doesn't believe me, I'll make him believe eventually. He lowers his head and places a smooth, loving kiss on my lips. He asks, "Am I forgiven?"

"Give me more of those kisses and then we'll talk."

#harrypotterimagine #hogwarts #harry potter #harrypotter #fanfiction #fluff #gryffindor #harryjamespotter #harrypotterfluff #marauders era #the marauders #harry potter marauders #hp marauders #marauders #marauders fanfiction #marauders fic #marauders fluff #marauders headcanon #marauders imagine #marauders oneshot #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin #remus lupin angst #remus lupin blurb #remus lupin fanfic #remus lupin fic #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin headcanon #remus lupin imagines

[caernys]

i only dream (when i'm lying down)

relationship: spencer reid x reader, romantic pairing (part two)

summary: you're an agent of the violent crimes division of the fbi and you’ve fallen in love with spencer reid.

notes: also posted on my AO3 account, kitkat_katsuki

trigger warnings: vague mention of a dead body, and guns

part one -> part two

spencer reid was an anomaly and he knew it. he was used to being the smartest person in the room, a mysterious kid with an iq that could rival einstein’s– and he loved it. there was a certain rush that came from thinking circles around someone, being able to calculate equations with his mind. there were downsides, of course, but this is how he was put on this earth and he was going to make the best of it.

what was the use of hiding a mind that could remember anything? dumbing himself down to tend to others’s egos and adhere to normal standards? spencer reid was anything but normal, and he knew it.

another anomaly: spencer reid had trouble with women. morgan would tell you that that was anything but an anomaly, but morgan could get a date by handcuffing himself to a table and letting people line up.

contrary to popular belief, spencer reid knows how to talk to women. he knows how to talk to them once he’s comfortable, and then it comes easy, but spencer reid does not get comfortable easy.

he supposes it’s from his horror story of a highschool experience, but everytime he opens his mouth he finds himself on guard, closed off and wary. logically, he knows that there’s an extremely low chance that a random girl he meets at a club with the team will strip him naked and tie him to a flag pole, but he can’t help but worry about it. just a little bit.

the chance is never zero.

(also, he deals with the absolute worst part of humanity for a living, and grabriella kingston and her crazy psychopathic pole tendencies seem to pop up in every third person he meets. he’s allowed to employ a little caution, damn it.)

so when he’s following penelope, who’s tearing out of her apartment and running down the stairs, he can’t help but think about what he’s going to say to the woman on the security feed that penelope had pulled up on her computer. 

the women who had shot penelope’s almost-killer, jar of peanut butter cookies in her right hand and a gun in her left, hands steady and eyes cold. 

she was beautiful.

spencer had a few issues talking with beautiful women, because beautiful women looked like gabriella kingston, and gabriella kingston lured him to a football field and stripped him naked and tied him to a pole.

and it was exactly because of those ever present issues that the first words he said to you were, “did you know that cows and horses only dream when they sleep lying down?”

[][][][][][][][][][][]

the first thing you did after firing the shot was drop your gun and put your hands in the air. you weren’t stupid enough to keep holding a gun in an fbi building while wearing civilian clothes. your badge was in the back pocket of your jeans, so you slowly moved to set the cookies down and turn around, hands still clasped behind your head.

“there’s a badge in my pocket,” you said, motioning slightly to the left one with an outstretched elbow. “i’m fbi. violent crimes.”

the man behind you, who had pulled a gun from a desk drawer pretty much as soon as you had fired the shot, slowly approached.

“which pocket?”

“left.” 

his hand pulled lightly on the edge of the pocket, the cold metal of his gun nosing into the your lower back. you waited while he flipped to your id picture, then flicked the whole thing to the shivering analyst who still looked slightly ill.

he examined it, pecked a few keys on the laptop, and gave a quick, jerky nod to the man. he lowered his gun.

you shifted your weight to your right foot, then solely lowered your hands. the man stepped around from behind you and outstretched his hand. you didn’t take it.

he let it hang there for a few moments before his fingers curled into a slightly exasperated fist and he dropped his arm to his side. his lips pulled slightly down at the corners, and he moved to hook his thumbs in the pockets of his slacks.

“i already know your name, but i’m hotch. you didn’t need to step in back there.”

oh, go to hell.

“yeah.” you step past him, wrap your hands around the jar of peanut butter cookies. your eyes flick over the body laying on the floor. okay— maybe it hadn’t been your finest moment. but for all “hotch” knows, you’d probably just saved his stupid life.

“you just executed a man!” hotch snapped, and you kept moving, not turning around. if he wanted, you could cite the exact bylaw in the fbi regulations that allowed you to take down an armed and clearly crazy man threatening agents inside the building. besides— you’d have to do the paperwork, not him.

you dropped the peanut butter cookies on the nearest flat surface and resolved to text penelope their approximate location as soon as you were downstairs. you took the long way across the room, neatly avoiding the sprawled corpse that was starting to leak on the carpet. 

maybe you should stay and clean that up.

hotch was still yelling, and you were still moving. you were halfway out the door and going strong when something collided agasint you.

[][][][][][][][][][][]

the flying object (that you had noted and catalogued while it was still hurtling at the speed of neon colors and boas five feet away) was penelope. you maneuvered her agasint your body and back through the front entrance where she’d come, blocking her view of the body.

there was no need to further upset her.

not that penelope couldn’t handle it, of course— penelope was one of the strongest people you knew. but just becuase she could didn’t mean she had to.

just like you techinically could try austin’s gravy that she had devised from the depths of hell, but you didn’t have to. something which you had made abundantly clear.

the familiar weight of her in your arms was both comforting and refreshing. the assault of colors and the warm hug briefly drew your attention, but you could clearly see dr. spencer reid standing behind her.

spencer reid was your white whale. you say that never having read moby dick and not truly understanding the metaphor, but the sentient was there:

your elusive arch-nemesis.

the little goal that you used to dream of surpassing.

the goal you had surpassed.

the man in the stupid patterned little suit that no self-respecting doctor would wear to a charity ball. (even if it was kind of cute.)

spencer reid.

he’s cute. his fair flops almost frantically around his face, and he has a rather nervous energy around him. 

you open your mouth to greet him, but he beats you to the punch:

“did you know that cows and horses only dream when they sleep lying down?”

you can’t help it. you laugh. reid looks minorly crushed for the few seconds it take you to say:

“yeah, i did. but that’s an article from a few years ago, dr. reid. they just published an update with a rather fascinating dissection of the involved rem cycles.”

penelope giggles in your arms and you push them out to examine her. “you okay?”

she looks a little frayed around the edges but nods and leans forward to nip lightly at your mouth. you smile and lean back on your toes, moving subtly out of her reach.

so maybe you wanted to look slightly available for doctor reid. so what?

reid bounces forward eagerly, shoves his fingers out for a handshake, then aborts halfway through and stumbles a little in his haste to return his hand to his pocket.

normally, you would’ve introduced yourself, but the adrenaline rush from the confrontation with the gunman has faded and the restless night you had yesterday is catching up with you.

penelope seems to notice, and starts to guide you to the elevator, looking harshly back at hotch’s cough of protest. spencer waves after you. 

“i’ll see you later, then?” he asks, and you look over your shoulder.

“definitely.”

#Spencer reid x reader #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds fic #no yn #x reader #Spencer reid #im making stuff up again #Spencer reid x you #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fic

[ieatsmallorphansnamedtom]

Angst, huh? How about bachelors reacting to farmer getting severely hurt or getting a disease that can or not lead to their death? How would the men deal with the grief abd all... I feel like crying today so why not. of course i understand if you're not comfortable with if

Bachelor/ettes x Seriously Injured Reader

Hi! Thank you for the request. I already have an ask for the reactions to the farmer's death by illness, so for this one I'll focus on the initial reaction to the injury. Also, I decided to do the bachelorettes because why not? Hehe. I'm basing this off the mod that has the bachelor/ettes react to the farmer passing out (more specifically for this one in the Skull Cavern).

EDIT: I MESSED UP!! According to an anon if someone passes out for more than a few minutes that's Not Good. So, this is not medically accurate. Yeah, I should have checked up on that. Anyways, here's the post.

Bachelors:

Sam

Sam didn't know what to expect when he was called to Harvey's clinic. All he knew was that it was urgent. Being a Tuesday, he expected Maru to be there to tell him what was going on. But to his surprise, she wasn't there. So, he took a seat in the room and waited.

Seeing as he didn't yet know exactly what was going on, he wasn't all too worried. His family were all safe, he had been with them just before. And you were down in the Skull Cavern doing your own thing, so what was he supposed to be worrying about?

That's when Maru came back out the door and found him there. Sam could see how stressed she looked. But when she told him the news, his heart dropped. He tried to stay positive, to think that the injuries were only minor, but it was impossible considering how quickly he had been rushed to the clinic.

When he finally got to see you, you could see how distressed he looked. He was all tense and you could see his hand shaking as he moved one forward to rest it on your shoulder.

"Hey, hey, you alright? How are you feeling? Man, I was so worried."

Note that he said 'was' to try and calm you down; to tell you that the threat's gone. He is indeed still worried. He's actually on the verge of tears just from the anxiety of it all and seeing you in such a bad state is no help. He's a little nervous to touch you, like you're going to break if he gets too close. When you get home, though, he covers your face in kisses and never lets go of you.

Elliott

Elliott doesn't have a phone, so he had no way of knowing what was going on at first. He only got the news from a townie a while after everything had happened. But when he heard, he came straight to the clinic.

"Y/N, dearest, are you alright!? I came as soon as I heard."

Seeing you in such a state scares him out of his wits. He listens to every word Harvey says, and it pains him to do so. Listening to all your injuries makes him want to cry. Once Harvey gives you two a moment alone, he sits down on the bed next to you and starts telling you stories to distract you from the pain. He's a writer, so they work pretty well.

If you're staying overnight, he's sure to be by your side. He doesn't care when the clinic officially closes, he's not leaving until you're all better. If that means falling asleep in that uncomfortable chair, then oh well.

Sebastian

Sebastian got the news from Robin, who got the news from Maru. He, frankly, didn't want to hear it at first. He was busy with a work project due in two days. But once he finally heard what was actually going on, he rushed right over to the clinic as fast as his barely used legs would take him.

Maru was the one to explain what was happening. Harvey was still busy patching you up, so he wasn't around to explain all that as going on. For once, he actually bothered to listen to her. Actually, he listened to her rather well. He was taking in every word she said. He needed to know how to help you get better.

Once he actually got in there, he sat down next to you and listened to Harvey repeat what Maru said. He paid less attention to the doctor, focusing more on how you were doing. You were pretty badly beaten up - enough to warrant an emergency - and it pained him to look at you. Still, he did, because he wanted to make sure you knew he was there.

"Hey, you alright? You got pretty badly beaten up back there, huh?"

He tries to keep the conversation light, but he's not very good at it. Especially with Harvey fretting constantly over your condition. Once he gets the all-clear to take you home, he's certainly going to take care of you. You're not allowed to leave the bed at all (except for bathroom breaks) until you're all better. He even tries his hand at cooking for you.

Harvey

Oh, poor Harvey. He's the one that has to perform the emergency surgery on you; how do you think he's feeling? It was a normal day for him, Maru was covering him as he was about to go on his break, when all of a sudden there's this knock on the door. In comes Marlon, carrying your near-dead body.

Harvey's first reaction is to freak out. Anyone would, really. He and Maru take you straight away to wherever the hell doctors do their thing. I can't remember any terms, but it doesn't matter since the result is the same. You get patched up.

When you wake up, the first thing you see is Harvey looking over you. He realises you're awake and gets out of your face, but he's still right there. You're still pretty dazed from the anesthesia, so he has to explain what's going on.

"You passed out in the mines. I had to perform an emergency surgery."

His voice is stern and professional, but you can still sense the fear behind it. He pauses for a moment before speaking again.

"Please, never do that to me again."

Shane

Shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit. Well, fuck me running; you're nearly dead! Shane got the news pretty early on, actually. Despite how shitty Joja is, Morris does have to make sure relatives and spouses of a seriously injured person know what's going on. Shane was called to Morris' office. In all honesty, he was expecting another 'pep talk' on his enthusiasm for the store. But instead, he got something much worse.

Shane immediately left the store to run over to you. Harvey had already finished the surgery and he was able to see you. Coming in, his heart dropped even further than it already had. You looked worse than he expected you to. You were tough, so how did you end up like this?

He took a seat next to you and looked over. You were badly bruised everywhere, but especially your head. The top of it was bandaged up, but he could see the blood seeping through. He caressed your cheek while speaking.

"Hey, peanut. You good? How are you feeling?"

Once he got you home, you were sent straight to bed. No more going in the mines for a good while now. Especially not alone. He's ordering Marlon to go with you until he can trust you're safe by yourself. Until then, you'll be helping him with the chickens.

Alex

Oh, oh no.

Alex was devastated when he heard the news. He was hanging out in his room when Evelyn came in. She was looking pretty down, and he had a gut feeling that something was up. Sitting down on the bed next to him, she explained what was going on. Immediately, his hear dropped. Injured? Seriously injured? What the hell?

Man ran right over to the clinic without a moment to spare. He was seriously desperate to find out what was going on. Maru greeted him and told him things were still happening and you were still recovering. Great; now he's got to wait here while you get patched up. Honestly, at first, he was on the verge of tears. He's already lost one person; what happens if he loses another?

Once he was allowed, he was right by your side. He sat down on the bed next to you and just... Looked at you. He was so scared two minutes ago of losing you. He just needed to make sure you were there, and you were alive.

"Hey, are you okay? Don't do that to me ever again."

Once he was allowed to take you home, he scooped you up in his arms and walked you there. Then, he put you straight to bed. There's no way he's letting you hurt yourself again. He probably lies down with you and gives you a hug.

Bachelorettes:

Penny

Penny was there when you came into the clinic. She was hanging out with Maru when all of a sudden Marlon came in the door carrying you. You were on the brink of death. Penny ran over to you and started asking him all these questions. 'Are they okay?', 'what happened?', 'will they heal?'

Marlon had to reassure her while Maru went and got Harvey. The poor girl had to wait in the clinic sitting room the whole time Harvey was performing the surgery. Well, technically she didn't have to, but she wanted to be there as soon as you woke up.

When you did wake up, she was right there by your side. You could see the tears in her eyes. Still, she was relieved you were now okay. You felt her place her hand over yours and saw her smile.

"Dearie, are you alright? You took quite the fall."

She gave a little chuckle after that.

Once she gets you home, she goes caretaker mode. Penny's already one of the most caring people in town. She's got you all sorted. You get to spend all day in bed while she takes care of you. Though, you might still have to do some farm work. She hasn't gotten everything mastered.

Leah

Leah heard the news from her phone. She was in the middle of a sculpture when all of a sudden, the phone started going off. She tried to ignore it, but it kept going. Answering the call, she heard Maru's voice on the other end. Harvey had just finished performing an emergency surgery on you and was hoping Leah could come and pick you up.

Hearing the news, she dropped everything to be by your side. She came as quickly as she could to the clinic. When she arrived, she was still covered in flakes of sawdust. Immediately, she came to you, taking a seat in the nearby chair.

Seeing you in such a state was horrible. You were covered in injuries from head to toe and there was nothing you could do about it. At least not in this state. Leah felt for your temperature. Normal, but that didn't mean much. You were already injured. She took your hand in hers and spoke.

"Hey, it's okay. I'm here now. Just rest."

Once you two get home, she's going to make sure you don't overwork yourself. She won't be letting you go back into the mines on her watch until you take her with you. It might be scary, but she's going to make sure you're alright. She can't see you hurt like that again.

Abigail

Abigail wasn't very worried when she heard you were going into the Skull Cavern for the first time. You had handled yourself pretty well in the town's mines. What was there to worry about? Well, it turns out: a lot. Especially when one of those damn serpents nearly took your head.

Abigail didn't get a call. Instead, Maru herself walked over to the store. She was playing video games in her room when Caroline came in. When she heard the news, her jaw dropped. Seriously injured? You? How? She saved her game and ran right over to the clinic to find Harvey walking out the door.

Harvey said you were fine and stable, and that relaxed her a bit. Still, it was serious enough of an injury to warrant Maru to personally walk over. Heading into the room she saw that yep; it was pretty bad. You were covered in stitches and scratches and were bruised. It was, in all honesty, a pretty bad look. She took a seat next to you and you two chatted for a bit.

"Hey there, shutterbug. Not feeling great, are you? Yeah, maybe I should come next time."

Getting you home was easy but nursing you back to health was hard. All Abigail knows is Special Pills Equal Good, so it was a bit of a struggle finding out what pills those were. Harvey and Caroline helped around a bit, but it was still a little rocky.

Abigail's definitely coming with you the next time you try the Skull Cavern. She's not going to stop you from having fun, but she's also not going to let you risk your health like that in the process. Plus, it's a perfect excuse to try out her new sword!

Maru

It was a Thursday. Maru was heading to work like normal. Things were looking fine. She walks in the door only to find Harvey's not there. Strange. Usually, he's at the front desk until she arrives. Maybe he's in his office.

Heading into the hallway, she called out for him. Thankfully, she got a reply. Not so thankfully, he was in the operating room. Walking in, she finds you on the table. Harvey's stitching up a bunch of wounds on your arms and legs. Maru, of course, is dumbfounded. She tries to remain face during the situation, but it's almost impossible. Harvey's no help either. His serious doctor attitude is not providing any sympathy.

At least the surgery is a success. Everything goes by smoothly, though it's sickening to look at you so injured. Afterwards, Maru was sent to the front desk. As much as she wanted to be the one to stay by your side, she knew she couldn't. While Maru is extremely knowledgeable, she's also still in training. She can't be alone with you in such a state just yet.

Finally, you come to, and Maru's allowed to visit. Harvey's already given her the rest of the day off by that point. He realised it probably wasn't the best to have your person at the front desk be slightly traumatised. Heading into the room, she sat down on the bed next to you.

"Hey," she said, "you alright? You gave us quite the scare."

Once she gets you home, she's sure to take good care of you. She's a nurse, after all. Though, she doesn't want you going into the mines for a good while after that. Especially if you're not properly equipped with the right tools.

Emily

Emily got the news from Harvey. He called her himself to tell her to come over immediately. He didn't say exactly what or who was in danger, but he did say it was bad. So, of course, she came! She couldn't let anyone be hurt and alone like that. But once hearing it was you, her heart sank. Emily cares about you so, so much. She doesn't want to hear that you're hurt!

She took a seat next to you and you two started talking. She wanted to do her best to distract you from the pain as much as possible. She figured you'd be too distracted venting about the stresses of farm life to notice the needle going into your arm. And it worked.

"So, tell me more about the cows. What was her name... Daisy?"

The same thing happened at home. She just got you to keep talking so you didn't focus on the pain. She made you comfort foods and drinks and made sure you were in the best position possible to heal. All the while, she listened to everything you said to her. She loves hearing you talk all the time, and you being injured doesn't change that.

"Cutie pie, you're so cute when you rant."

Haley

Haley got the news from Emily. She was getting ready to do some photography when her sister stopped her right in her tracks. And for good reason. Hearing you were injured almost killed her. Now, normally she would be fine, but she knew you hadn't gone into the Skull Cavern before, and she knew you were in deep shit. She put down her things and headed straight over.

Arriving at the clinic, she was greeted by Maru, who told her Harvey was still busy with the surgery. So, she had to wait. Great. Haley hated waiting, and especially for something like this. It was horrible. What was only 20 - 30 minutes felt like an hour to her, and she couldn't handle it... Which is why she was so happy when she got the all-clear the go in and meet you.

Let's just say you looked worse for wear. Haley was not pleased, but she couldn't blame you. You didn't decide to get hurt like this! She stood over next to the bed for a bit until you woke up, which by that point she started combing her fingers through your hair.

"Hey. Quite the mess, huh? Don't worry, you're all good now."

Getting you home was a struggle. While she isn't so much of a hater of dirt as she used to be, she was wearing a new dress and didn't want it getting ruined by the mud. Once she got you home, she demanded you went to bed. Ain't no way she's letting you get yourself even more hurt.

-~-~-

Link to the video I used for reference here. I'm very much tempted to write a self-indulgent scenario of all the bachelor/ettes coming to the farmer's aid when they get seriously injured. Tell me if you'd be interested.

#ieatsmallorphansnamedtom #injury tw #death mention #blood mrntion #needle mention #food mention #swearing tw #not read over because ew #i just needed to get this out #sdv #sdv hcs #sdv headcanons #sdv bachelors #sdv bachelorettes #sdv sam #sdv elliott #sdv sebastian #sdv harvey #sdv shane #sdv alex #sdv penny #sdv leah #sdv abigail #sdv maru #sdv emily #sdv haley #stardew valley #stardew valley hcs #stardew valley headcanons #stardew valley bachelors

[frameacloud]

How to archive Twitter accounts before they get deleted for inactivity

What is happening to inactive accounts on Twitter?

Twitter is a social media site that started in 2006. 450 million people use it to make tiny blog posts, “tweets.” On May 8, 2023, the site's current CEO tweeted, "We’re purging accounts that have had no activity at all for several years, so you will probably see follower count drop" (archive). The purge is already deleting records of historic events and of people who died. We must hurry to preserve copies of them.

When those accounts are deleted, I can finally get the username I always wanted, right?

No. The CEO tweeted that this would "free up abandoned handles" (archive), but Twitter's policy still says (since 2008) that they will only give away a handle to someone if it is their registered trademark.

Will Twitter itself save an archive of inactive accounts?

The CEO tweeted, "The accounts will be archived" (Archive of that tweet). That’s the only official mention of it. There is still no sign of those archives, and no word about where those archives will be. We assume that "the accounts will be archived" only if we archive them for ourselves. Even if Twitter eventually reveals it has its own archive somewhere, we would still be wise to save other archives off-site. We can't assume that Twitter will always be around.

What happens to accounts that are inactive because the user died?

A social media account is like a collection of old postcards and photos in a memory album. For artists, it may be the last gallery of their life’s work. Facebook, Instagram, Livejournal, and Furaffinity give a memorial status to an account after its user has died, so it won’t get deleted. Not Twitter: it lets family members delete the account of a deceased person, but it has never guarded such accounts against being deleted for inactivity. That can only be prevented by having someone regularly sign in. Moderators will not help anyone sign into an account, regardless of their relationship to the deceased.

What does Twitter see as an inactive account?

The CEO changed Twitter’s inactive account policy so you must log into your account at least once every thirty days to keep it from being inactive. It used to say six months. You can’t tell whether someone else’s account is inactive if they don’t have recent posts.

Does this mean Twitter will delete accounts that have been inactive for only thirty days?

It’s unclear. The policy also says "Accounts may be permanently removed due to prolonged inactivity." It has always said that. And how long is “prolonged inactivity”? It doesn’t say. 

Suppose if the policy now means that an account may be deleted if it’s been inactive for one month, or several months. That would tend to delete the accounts of organizations like NPR and PBS that chose to stop using Twitter, people who take a break from social media, people who couldn't sign in while suffering from a serious illness or accident, and active duty military on deployment.

The CEO's tweet said they are purging accounts that have been inactive "for several years" (archive). He started threatening to give away NPR's handle when they had been inactive for less than a month, though.

What does it look like when an account has been deleted for inactivity?

This tweet from May 8 shows a screenshot of an account that was deleted for inactivity after its user died (archive and context with proof). Nothing remains but a username and an error message. It says: "Account suspended. Twitter suspends accounts that violate the Twitter Rules." They look the same as accounts that moderators deleted for breaking rules. Twitter doesn’t show the date that an account was deleted or suspended.

What is the easiest way to archive a Twitter? How do I save one to the Wayback Machine?

The Internet Archive is a nonprofit organization that runs the Wayback Machine, which is a website for saving a copy of other websites. If any website goes away, but an old copy of it has been saved to the Wayback Machine, then anyone can still visit that old copy. You can ask the Wayback Machine to save a copy of a Twitter account. This is the easiest way. Go to this particular page of the Wayback Machine: https://web.archive.org/save

In the text box, write https://twitter.com/ and then the username of the Twitter account that you want to save. For example, here is the format I used to save a copy of the account of Kohiyote, a furry fan and photographer who died in 2022: https://twitter.com/kohiyote If you write the address in this format, then a checkbox will appear. The box says, "Archive up to 3,200 most recent Tweets from this Twitter profile."

[Image description: that screen in the Wayback Machine. A green arrow points at the checkbox mentioned. Description ends.]

Check that box. Hit save. The Wayback Machine will take care of the rest for you, during the next few hours or days.

We hope that the Internet Archive Wayback Machine will always exist. Unfortunately, their nonprofit is being sued, in the case of Hachette v. Internet Archive. You would be wise to donate to the Internet Archive to help keep them running, and to save another archive of the Twitter account to your own computer too.

How do I save an archive of a Twitter account to my computer? One that I can use offline, or that I can put up on my personal website for other people to see?

This next method has a few more steps, but you don't need to know how to write code or other advanced computer skills. You check some buttons in a program, and then it will automatically take care of saving an archive of the Twitter account for you. Thanks to Doppel Draconius for his many hours of work finding ways to make this method as efficient as possible.

You'll use HTTrack, which is free software for saving a copy of a web site to your own computer. Download HTTrack from here: http://httrack.com/ Open the program and tell it to start a new project.

Name the project the username of the account that you want to save. Click next.

In the drop-down menu for "action," choose "download web site."

In the box that says "web addresses," instead of the regular Twitter address, you're going to use a front-end for Twitter called Nitter. Many sites run their own instance of Nitter. If one of the Nitter sites is down, use a different one. You can find a list of them on GitHub.

In the web address box, put the address of the Nitter instance, and then the Twitter username. For example, if I choose to archive Kohiyote’s account through the Nitter.net instance, the format would be https://nitter.net/kohiyote 

Then, below that box, click the button that says "Set options." This opens a preferences window that has several tabs on the top. 

Click the "scan rules" tab. Copy and paste this into the text box:

-* +*nitter*.css +*nitter*.js -ad.doubleclick.net/* -mime:application/foobar +*nitter*.gif +*nitter*.jpg +*nitter*.jpeg +*nitter*.png +*nitter*.tif +*nitter*.bmp +*nitter*.mov +*nitter*.mpg +*nitter*.mpeg +*nitter*.avi +*nitter*.asf +*nitter*.mp3 +*nitter*.mp2 +*nitter*.rm +*nitter*.wav +*nitter*.vob +*nitter*.qt +*nitter*.vid +*nitter*.ac3 +*nitter*.wma +*nitter*.wmv +*nitter*USERNAME* +*nitter*/pic/* +*nitter*/media/*

When you’ve pasted that text, replace USERNAME with the Twitter handle that you're working on. These rules make HTTrack download only what is part of the account that you meant. 

After that, here are the settings that you should do in the other relevant tabs:

[Image description: four screenshots of four different tabs in the preferences window.

The first screenshot is the “Limits” tab. Set “maximum mirroring depth” to 9999999999. Set “maximum external depth” to zero. This is so that only links with the username would be scraped. Set “max transfer rate” to 9999999999. Set “max connections / seconds” to 1000. This is important! Otherwise it would be super slow. Set “maximum number of links” to 9999999999. This is so it won’t cut off too soon. The second screenshot is the “Flow control” tab. Set “number of connections” to 8. The third screenshot is the “Links” tab. Tick the checkbox that says “attempt to detect all links.” Tick the checkbox that says “get non-HTML files related to a link.” Optional: tick the checkbox that says “get HTML files first,” because you want to preserve text first before pictures or video. The fourth screenshot is the “Spider” tab. In the second drop-down menu, select “No robots.txt rules.” This is because there are no rules in an emergency data rescue. Wink.

Description ends.]

Then click okay, which closes the preference window. Click next. Then click finish. Now HTTrack will start downloading the Twitter profile in a way that looks very similar to how it was meant to look. It might take a few minutes or hours. It will save the most recent 3,200 tweets, with conversation threads and pictures. 

Later, when the program says it's done, you should open the archived web site to verify that it worked correctly. When you click the index file, it should open in your web browser and look like a normal web site. The one difference is that the web address box should show that the files are in directories on your own computer. That means you’re browsing an offline copy. It should have saved more than just the first page of tweets. Click through until you find the oldest tweet it saved, and notice the date. When you click on a thread or a picture, they should open.

If all looks well, view the archived files themselves in their folder. The folder’s file size depends on how many pictures and videos it saved. So far, the smallest Twitter account we downloaded was eleven megabytes. The biggest was eleven gigabytes. You can send the folder to a friend. If you upload it to a personal website, other people can see it there as part of your site.

How come both of these methods only save the most recent 3,200 tweets? How do I save a complete archive of a Twitter account that has more than 3,200 tweets?

Twitter is designed to stop anyone from going further back, with some exceptions. There are ways to save a complete archive of an account that has 3,200+ tweets. I won’t tell those here, because we don’t want Twitter to shut off the possibility.

How do I save an archive of a protected Twitter account?

Protected Twitter accounts have a padlock icon next to their name. Only followers they approve can see their tweets, likes, and list of followers/following. These users don’t want their twitters to be public. You should respect their wishes. These accounts are as vulnerable to deletion as any other. I don't know any automated method to archive them.

I need help archiving Twitters... or I want to help. Who can I ask?

Contact me. My friends and I have been working hard to archive vulnerable accounts. Tell us usernames of such accounts. We write them in a spreadsheet, where we split up the work, and log what we’ve done.

#twitter #how to twitter #archiving #original post #long post #very long post #rated G #screen reader friendly

[ohmaerieme]

THINKING ABOUT LOUALPH SO MUCH IM GONNA KILL AND DESTROY. loualph hcs long-ish post because otherwise ill start beating up my laptop I NEED EVERYONE TO STOP MISCHARACTERIZING THEM RIGHT NOWWWWW YOU DONT NEED TO DO THAT TO SHIP THEM!!! ok im normal.

louie and alph are both ace, neither has actually come out to the other they dont even talk about it they just dont think abt that side of relationships or have any desire to it at all. like they just forget it exists do u get me

like many(?) loualph shippers i also believe they became friends and then grew feelings because alph pulled all nighters to work on the ship/take notes etc. and louie was the only other person awake to talk to.

^^ alph talks about his family and how he got into engineering etc and louie just kind of listens. he chimes in with a word or two now and then when something catches him. and alph is always surprised by it too he pauses for a second to look at him like 😯 and then continues talking

louie talks about his family too. kind of. more like vague comments or admitting he misses his nana .AND HE TALKS ABT COOKING TOO!! and his cooking show dream!! he doesnt ramble like alph does, mainly just speaks in a sentence or two every hour or so

louies feelings go from 'man this guys kinda annoying -> well its nice to have company i guess. i have nothing else to do -> i dont want to leave him alone ever'

alphs feelings go from 'this guys really strange but its some kind of company at least -> hes a really good listener wow. yknow what hes kinda interesting too -> hes kinda like my opposite and i cannot ever imagine not talking to him again'

alph tried making a love poem once and louie was just confused reading it HIS ASS DID NOT UNDERSTAND. alph was so embarrassed he never ever tried again. louie still thinks about it wondering wtf it was supposed to be about he does NOT understand poetry at all

louie gets overstimulated by touch easy and alph gets very flustered by any romantic gesture. together they make the ultimate autism 'our love language is quality time' couple.

louie also actually has gift giving as a love language too. hes kinda bummed when he learns koppaites can only eat fruit but he tries very hard to make fancy fruit plates for alph when they havent had time to talk in a while

unrelated to loualph but very important. he can in fact escape the restraints but he likes the tight pressure from them (sensory seeking mf)

that is all DO YOU UNDERSTAND. MY VISION

#IM INSAANEEEE IM CUHRAAZAAYYYY #insanee......asylum #/q #/// #loualph #louie x alph #alph x louie #pikmin 3 #louie pikmin #alph pikmin #mae rambles #ohmaerieme

[sammy-is-not-smiley]

In The Moonlight

Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

Summary: You went into a monster hunt totally blind just because you wanted to help out a couple of friends... and Steve blames himself for scaring the shit out of you.

Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings/Tags: language, use of (y/n), season 2 Steve, ptsd things, crying, fear, hurt/comfort cuz I'm mentally ill... and I think that's all?

A/N: Wowsers it's been a hot minute since I posted a fic. So this one is set in the junkyard scenes from season 2. Arguably the worst season but I have a huge soft spot for season 2 Steve lol. Initially this was supposed to be a panic attack with Steve request but I don't think I quite captured a panic attack so it's just hurt/comfort instead. Ok sorry long authors note, enjoy!

Your dad was going to kill you for putting a kink in one of his best golf clubs… But if you could only tell him that golf club is what helped save your life… maybe he wouldn't be so mad.

Why you had agreed to help Dustin Henderson and Steve Harrington, you weren't sure. Maybe it was because you were bored. Maybe it was because you knew what it was like to have a pet run away. Maybe it was because you had a small crush on Steve and a soft spot for Dustin. Maybe it was a mixture of all those things.

Regardless, it was safe to say you got more than you ever thought you were signing up for. The day was full of lighthearted banter, buckets of raw meat, and work to be done. But once night settled over the junk yard and a steady fog drifted in, you knew things were different than you had first interpreted them to be. Steve seemed to know your realization too, you noticed, catching him glancing at you with a guilty sympathy in his eyes. At first it confused you, but now it made sense. You weren't just looking to catch or kill a rabid lost pet. You were monster hunting, and they didn't warn you.

You soon could gather that the monsters, plural, were deadly… And nothing like you'd ever seen before. So when Steve stepped out from the relative safety of the armored school bus, you best believe you had followed him out. Although terrified, the weight of responsibility and admiration of the younger kids moved you to protect and defend. Nothing was getting to them. If the creatures wanted to hurt the middle schoolers, they'd have to go through you and Steve first.

So you stood with Steve, back to back, in the chill of the night to face the not-quite-canine shadows that began circling you all. His bat gripped in his hands, and your father's golf club gripped in yours, you worked in tandem to keep the creatures away from the bus and each other.

You'd never felt such a rush of adrenaline and terror when Steve grabbed your wrist to retreat back to the bus, the creature's numbers seemingly multiplying within minutes. The kids screaming at you to run faster didn't help the nausea in your gut.

Right as Steve had pushed you aside to try and face one of the monsters head on through the porthole on the roof, the oddest thing happened. They retreated. Every one of those gurgling beasts stopped what they were doing and ran off, back into the woods, their growls and chitters fading after them.

While confused and shaken, you had looked to Steve for an answer. He had looked back at you, gears churning behind his eyes. The silence outside made goosebumps erupt over your skin, a different kind of chill rattling your bones.

Steve was the first to open the door of the bus, weapon still firm in hand. The rusted hinges of the door screeched painfully as he opened it with discretion and peered out.

You followed, and of course the kids followed you like ducklings. Slowly you all piled out of the bus onto the damp grass, the monsters nowhere in sight as the sound of their howls grew further and further away.

After a few moments, Lucas broke the silence and spoke what everyone else was thinking. “What happened?....”

Dustin shrugged. “Steve and (y/n) scared ‘em off?”

“No,” Steve let out in a breath. “No way. They’re going somewhere.”

"Going somewhere…" You repeated, letting yourself lean back and fall against the bus. You were just now noticing the aching burn in your muscles. Where the hell would monsters like that have to go?

"Is that a good or a bad thing?" Max asked, head bouncing between you and Steve.

All Steve could give in response was a shrug and an uncertain shake of the head. When Max looked at you once more, your eyes darted around at the grass in thought. "Maybe… I don't know, maybe it's good for us but bad for someone else?" You looked back up at the group. "You think they're going to attack another group of stupid kids like us?" You half joked, the humor not reaching your tone.

Your eyes bounced off each person in the group, then landed finally on Steve. Everyone radiated cluelessness, which was extremely helpful.

You huffed out a sigh. “Okay, well, you said they were going somewhere,” You finally said as you gestured to Steve. “Maybe… we should… figure out where they were going?”

“Are you insane?” Max asked in a deadpan tone; it sounded more like a statement than a question.

“Well obviously she is, she left the bus to go help Steve Harrington,” Lucas mumbled.

“Who left to help us,” Dustin argued.

Steve put his hands up, silencing the bickering kids. “Look, guys, let’s just… make it back to my car first. We’ll figure out what to do there, alright?”

Everyone silently agreed, the children muttering to each other, and began to gather their things together from the bus to leave. You waited until everyone emptied from the bus before you went in to grab your backpack and club. Your mental energy waned, brain feeling like mush, and you desperately needed a moment alone. Just a few minutes to process what the hell just went down… and if this was even still reality.

The silence in the empty bus was deafening, yet you could still hear the roar of the monsters bouncing around in your skull. You glanced up at the porthole, only to see a flash of the blooming face of teeth through your mind. The bridge of your nose tingled as a wave of water began to well up in your eyes… only for it to stop as soon as it started, your heart beat becoming increasingly harder to ignore. The tears dried up but the sinking feeling in your chest became overwhelming, growing and tightening with every second.

You let yourself fall into one of the seats at the back, feeling dizzy, staring at the floor blankly as you tried to control your breathing. It was no use, your vision felt out of focus. Your breath was stolen from you, and the cold bus began to feel like an oven. Nothing felt right.

You screamed at yourself in your mind to grab your bag and meet the crew outside, that they were waiting on you, but your body ignored the command. Your muscles were far too tense to operate, your mind too jittery to work properly, and so you sat, helpless in an emotional limbo.

The kids all met Steve in the center of the junkyard, each ready to begin the trek back to his car. It was easy to see, however, that one member of the group was missing. You.

Dustin looked over the group, then around the dark junkyard. “(y/n)'s coming, right?”

Steve looked around as well trying to spot the missing party member. He looked to the bus and barely caught the silhouette of you cowering at the back, still as a statue. His brows drew together in concern.

“Here, Dust,” Steve handed the boy his spiked bat, “I’ll be right back. Stay here and call if something happens.”

Dustin’s eyes widened with excitement at the bat and took it. He looked at Lucas smugly as he threw it over his back and rested it on his shoulder. Lucas rolled his eyes in response, as did Max.

Steve’s shoes crunched on the now freezing grass up to the bus. He quietly stepped through the still open and rusty door, peering in to see you hunched over in the back corner. The light from the moon beamed through the open roof hatch and shone a dim spotlight over where you sat. If he wasn't so concerned for you, he would have just stood and admired the moment. It made you look ethereal… in a melancholy kind of way.

"(Y/n)?" He called out gently. "You okay?"

Immediately your head jerked up and you stared wide eyed at the boy at the other end of the bus. “Sorry, I'll be uh- just… Just a few minutes," You croaked hoarsely. The heavy breathing of the cold air earlier must've irritated your throat.

You let your hair fall in your face as you bent down and began stuffing the bent golf club in your bag as if it were a sheath. You didn't have to put the club in there, but you wanted to look as though you were still busy packing. That you weren't just staring off into space being bombarded with leftover terror.

The floor creaked and a pair of dirty, white Nike shoes walked up and stopped in front of you. The familiar feeling of tears brimming your eyes returned. Oh god, why did his caring have to make this harder?

Just… go away….

Your hands slowly came to a stop and you let her hand linger on the zipper of the bag in anticipation. You could feel your hands beginning to tremor ever so slightly. A storm was brewing and you didn't want Steve there to witness it.

“I know you're not okay." He finally muttered.

That pushed you back to the edge as you slapped your hand over your mouth to stifle a sob. The storm had been called.

The shoes in front of you moved to action and you could feel the sinking of another person sitting next to you.

There, you wept, breaths becoming more choppy and uncontrolled. You sat up again and covered your face with both hands. You hated being the only one that seemed to be freaking out over the situation. You hated that Steve, of all of them, had to be the one to see you fall apart.

No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t get the image of that roaring, snarling creature out of your head. The dread that still tickled your scalp, the horror of feeling as though you were about to die still lingered in the air. It was a similar feeling you would have after waking from a nightmare. But this time you couldn’t dismiss the feelings away as a product of something not real. The relief of waking up was nonexistent. This was all real. Unbelievably real. You couldn't comprehend any of it and your body was having an extreme reaction.

Steve felt a hole gape in his chest full of bitterness at himself. This is exactly what he didn't want to happen.

He had known what to expect, knew how it felt to see and hurt one of those creatures. He knew the noises they made when you hit them and the awful stench of their breath. He had come to terms with the beast he fought the year before, leaving him mostly ready to face another one. Sleepless nights be damned. However, he had lost sight of the fact that you had come into the situation blind. All you expected was maybe some sort of rabid pet of Dustin's. Not a hoard of man eating monsters… and Steve couldn't help but blame himself for your current state. He should have pushed you away like he seemed to be doing to everyone else in his life. He should have left you at home that morning. He should have never picked you up.

He shifted to face his body to yours, reaching up and tugging at your wrists lightly by your face. "Hey, can you look at me? Please?"

You instinctively leaned back slightly, bowing your head, trying to tuck yourself further into the back corner. "Steve-" You tried to protest, but another sob interrupted you and shook you to the core.

His hands trailed from your wrists to the sides of your head, cupping your cold ears tenderly. "Please, just trust me," He begged, urging you to turn to him. "Look at me."

You drew in a slow breath and sighed shakily into your hands, closing your eyes behind them to will yourself to pull your hands away. You let them fall to your lap, not even bothering to wipe the tears coating your heated face.

You heard Steve sigh, then felt him pull a leg up to scooch closer to you, his hands never leaving your ears. "Please open your eyes." He didn't know why, but he wanted to see them. He had to see your eyes.

Begrudgingly you opened them, tears causing the figure in front of you to appear blurry for a few seconds. It didn't matter though. You'd recognize Steve anywhere.

Your jaw chattered ever so slightly as you tried to suppress another snivel. You quickly failed though, your face contorting and a whimper escaping your lips.

Steve's face contorted as well, one of empathy, pain, and…. There it was again. Guilt.

His hands squeezed your head slightly to hold your gaze, his head bowing down to yours to seem less intimidating. "You're okay now. I've got you, you're safe. You're alive." His tone was quiet, his voice gruff and a tad hoarse as well.

The moon beamed at just the right angle to capture one of his chocolate irises in the light, causing it to glow hazel. You tried hard to focus on it. However, another wave of tears pressed at your sinuses and you squeezed your eyes shut, letting them spill over onto your face. You turned your focus to the grounding feeling of Steve's hands cradling your head.

Immediately Steve's thumbs caught your tears, wiping them across your cheeks. "God, I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have let you come with us. I should've just… forced you to mind your own goddamn business," He attempted a dry chuckle and his heart sank when you didn't smile.

You pulled his hands away from your head and shook it. "Jesus, Harrington, tell me about it. A warning would have been nice." You sniveled, watching his hands now hold yours in your lap. Your fingers were freezing but somehow his were still warm.

"I know and I'm a dick for not telling you the truth. I don't know why I even-" He paused, looking away as well and down at your hands. A scoff escaped his lips. "Shit, yes I do. I know exactly why I let you come," He muttered under his breath, averting his eyes.

You wiped your cheek on your shoulder, not wanting to let go of the comforting warmth of Steve's hands. "You let me come on purpose?" You asked incredulously, now confused once again that night.

His shoulders slouched. "No?.... I mean… not entirely. I guess I was too chicken to try and take care of the kid alone? And when you came around as I was leaving his place last night I…." He shook his head, breaking him from his monologue. "I was being selfish and I'm sorry. I should have told you everything in the first place. As soon as we get to my car I'm getting you a candy bar and I'm taking you home."

That made you genuinely laugh, your body finally shaking with laughter rather than sobs. "Steve no, I don't-" You stopped yourself again, confused at the next thing you were going to say. "I don't…. Want to go home. Not yet." You finally looked up again to meet his eyes that were back on you as well, one iris still glowing in moonlight.

"What? Why?" He lifted your hands in his. "You're literally shaking, I can feel it."

You rolled your eyes, tilting your head back to watch the now dented roof. "Good lord, you don't realize how boring my life has been, do you?"

As pathetic as it sounded, it was true. The small town of Hawkins didn't have much to offer when it came to entertainment or meeting new friends. You had even almost considered going golfing with your dad a few times. As awful as you felt in that moment… you never felt more alive. Foreign blood splattered on your gold club and Steve's body heat so close to yours was exhilarating.

Steve scoffed. "I'd rather you be bored as hell safe in your room than panicking and crying in the middle of a junkyard," Steve argued. He had a point.

"Look, I just want to start over." You admitted. "I want to be here and help. I just need to know everything you know before we move on. I need to know what those things are and how literally everyone here is acting like it's normal." You stared at him intently, the shine of tears still visible on your face in the moonlight. "Because I'm in it now and you're not getting rid of me just like that."

Steve turned and looked down at your backpack and warped golf club. "Not even for a candy bar?"

You shook your head, fighting a smile. "Not even for a candy bar."

"What about two candy bars?"

"Not even for a hundred candy bars, doofus. You're stuck with me."

He smiled and shook his head in disbelief. "You should hate me right now…"

Your body finally broke out of its paralyzed state as you leapt forward and embraced him in a desperately needed hug. "You might have made me cry like a jerk, but you made me stop too. I think that stands for something."

His hands hung in the air for a moment in hesitation before slowly hugging you back. It wasn't a casual hug, nor one done unwillingly. It was snug and genuine, as if once he adjusted to it, he were trying to enfold you into his very soul.

"I'll make it up to you," He mumbled quietly into the fabric of your sweatshirt.

A sudden banging on the side of the bus made you both jump in each other's clutch. “You two better not be in there making out,” Dustin warned from the other side. “If I walk in and you two are kissing I won’t hesitate to throw up on your shoes.”

A sloppy laugh bubbled from you and you pulled away from Steve. You hoped the darkness hid the blush spreading over your cheeks. Steve chuckled as well, happy to hear you laugh again.

“I guess we should go,” He said, then looked down at you warily and squeezed your shoulder. “Unless you don’t want to yet.”

You shook your head and began to stand. “I’m- yeah, no- I’m okay now.” You stammered. Butterflies fluttered in your stomach as you averted your gaze from Steve's face. “We should go, they’re probably getting cold out there.”

Steve nodded, then reached down and grabbed your backpack before you could. Instead of giving it to you, he slung it over his shoulder and offered his hand instead. "If… you know it helps…"

You smiled gratefully and took his hand. Once again, it was warm and comforting like a campfire.

Standing proved to be more of a chore than you expected, your muscles now weaker from the strain of earlier. Steve was patient when you stood and wobbled slightly. When you adjusted you walked back outside with him, forgetting you were still holding his hand.

"Ah shit," Dustin exclaimed nearby. "You two were making out!"

Steve didn't even spare a glance at the boy as he passed him and snatched his bat back. "Shut it, Henderson. We have ground to cover."

#stranger things #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington hurt/comfort #stranger things fanfic #steve harrington #steve harrington fem reader #stranger things fic #steve harrington x (y/n) #season 2 steve harrington #steve harrington reader insert #stranger things reader insert

[omnidemidisaster]

Do you have any more spooky month Kevin x Reader headcanons? Sfw boyfriend headcanons or nsfw?

Him hees

( NSFW at end )

Kevin dating HCS

SFW

He is quite panicky in the relationship

Like he always believes something might go wrong

He tries not to think so much, but he just wants the best outcome and ends up thinking the worst possibilities

He isn't the most romantic by definition, but he does his own romantic gestures to show his love

Like leaving some candy he bought for you at your door or kitchen counter, coming over whenever you're bored, hell he'll even let you hang out in the backroom of the store as long as you don't get caught if you really wanted to

He never 100% give or receives. He will always give and take. He doesn't want to come across as lazy or overbearing, so he will let you take control in the relationship every once in a while

That goes for cuddling too. He loves to hold you whenever you're sleeping. He adores that feeling of protecting you. But he will never say no to bring cuddled. He also adores the feeling of you holding him close and allowing him to be vulnerable

Now this isn't a hc, but something that the VA stated, but Kevin will always protect you whenever you're afraid or anxious. It doesn't matter how scared Kevin is, you are his priority, so you will come first

He is a bit of a hopeless romantic. Like before he started dating you, his mind will absolutely wander about a possible relationship with someone.

I suppose you made that dream come true!

He loves to kiss your cheek and forehead ( Especially if your shorter than him )

Now you bet that whenever the two of you are either on a date or just hanging out that he's just taken photos of you

Not in a creepy way, but in a way that captures the moments you both had together

He even posts them on his snapchat, going on and on about how much he loves you

Though an all time favorite photo of his is one where you both had a first Christmas together. You were in front of a very cheap dollar store tree with some gifts beside it. You both sat on the floor and started to open up gifts together.

Eventually your hands picked up a certain box. He quickly grabbed his phone and got ready to take a picture. He knew that that gift was particularly special ( What it had inside could be up to you ).

Once you opened it and realized what was in it, you began to cry from joy. He did take a few photos of how happy you were. And 2 of those photos are on his lock screen and home screen.

He doesn't like Christmas that much, but your smile and happiness is far more important to him :]

NSFW 🔞

Very fidgeting and anxious when you both had your first time together

Like boy gave himself a pep talk in the mirror...and was still freaking out

Though that freaking out didn't last too long

He just needed some buttons pushed ;]

I said this and ill say it again: He loves somnophilia

Though he is on the receiving end on it. Even if the two of you agreed with consent, he doesn't want to do anything to you while your asleep. Kissing? Sure. Maybe dry humping? Hes not opposed. But he's scared to actually hurt you or make you feel violated despite the explicit consent

Expect some rough stuff, especially after a long and horrible shift. He already likes to go fast and hard as is, so if he has a particularly bad day and your in the mood, just prepare yourself

Don't worry, boy will absolutely pamper and shower you with affection so you don't feel hurt or unsafe in any way

Home boy has praise and degrading kinks simultaneously. Like he'll praise you and degrade you in a single breath

And of course at the end he reassures you he doesn't mean anything he said...besides all the praising

He doesn't really like bondage. He hates the feeling of being restricted. Though if you want some light stuff like handcuffs or your hands tied up, he doesn't mind

The two of you came up with a safeword and he will always ask you what it is before doing anything

Not because he thinks your dumb, just wanting to make sure he doesn't hurt you and make you feel overwhelmed/overstimulated

If your a girl or have female parts, expect him to every once in a while ask you to peg him

He absolutely adores it and loves feeling submissive to you

Aftercare with this man...

He is so damn affectionate. He will make sure you're okay and feeling good, then help you clean up and clean up whatever surface the two of you did it on. By the end, he's cuddling you and kissing you while muttering praises

#fluff #smut #spooky month #x reader #spooky month kevin #spooky month kevin x reader #spooky month x reader

[tsunael]

Tsuna -

Thancred

Urianger

Jullus

Tataru

describe your OC's feelings/relationship to an NPC.

WHOA THAT'S SO MANY. Huge post incoming lmao.

You probably didn't mean the first one like this but...

What does she think about herself?

So, her opinion of herself lessens over time. She is tempered from a life of entertaining strangers, of becoming a living work of art, and that involves living in a world of putting on a mask every day. At first she's proud of herself and her status, and being appreciated for her beauty make living in a Hyuran-dominated space feel validating. She worked hard to get to where she is-- especially in a caste-system like Kugane's.

Her only goal is to earn her keep at the okiya, and to gain a patron (a danna) in order to repay her debts so that she can retire and look for her father in Thavnair. This, of course, doesn't quite happen the way she envisioned.

There's a clear moment she starts taking on guilt and it begins when she first killed a Garlean soldier and is forced to flee the country. I think the guilt just compounds from there until she feels she is undesirable and unclean for the things she's done. Eventually she will have to take measure of her worth, and pit them against the traditional Raen morals of her upbringing: does the good she has done outweigh the lives she has taken? Is it peace if it was written in blood?

Thancred.

Sweats. Well, for starts, he's one of the few that aren't eager to lick her boots simply because of her power and she has always appreciated that about him. He sees her as she is, and she has always appreciated that about him-- what she doesn't know is it's because he sees himself in her.

Their relationship is rocky though, and to be clear it's always been full of highs and lows. He humours her lack of experience as an adventurer because Minfilia takes a liking to her, but at the same time he also sees Tsuna as a potential conquest, which she repeatedly rebukes. His cocktail of emotions spill over in 3.2 that really sours their relationship until SHB proper (5.0?).

What does she think of him, though? He's refreshing, frustratingly dry-witted, incorrigible, and sympathetic. She also knows he could love so deeply if he just allowed himself to be loved in return.

Urianger.

Amiable at first. Another Eorzean who speaks in a strange bastardization of the common tongue, and so she often has difficulty understanding both his speech and his allegiances. Once, he gifted her a book on Sharlayan astrology after expressing an interest in conjury, and though she never gained a knack for it, she has kept the deck of cards ever since.

It made his subsequent betrayals hurt worse, however. He broke her trust not once, but twice. After the events at Gulg she has found him nothing but shady-- a complete enigma even after she had thought she finally knew him. Even though he does what he does with a heavy heart and good intentions, they tend to invite the worst kinds of trouble.

I haven't a clue what this relationship could be called but it is friendly. He has no ill-will towards her, and never has, and neither does she. She definitely finds him mesmerizing to look at, though. I suppose she keeps a wide berth from him if she can help it, simply because her trust is not something so easily won back.

Jullus.

Ouch. Oof. Rough. Similar to themes I mention in my Fordola question, Tsuna has prejudices against the Garlean people whether they be military personnel or civilians and I consider this a flaw she needs to overcome. Learning of Arenvald's heritage did much to distil her initial prejudices, however, Jullus and her are (at first) a hair's breadth from knocking heads.

(As a personal aside, having just finished the island sanctuary quests yesterday I was actually wondering at the time about how uncomfortable Tsuna might have been while breaking bread with all those Garleans lmao.)

I do think she softens on them as a people, and subsequently Jullus, but it takes time. Jullus, himself is meant to represent them as a whole to the player imo. There are just too many layers preventing her from seeing him as a person when he is such a product of his environment. I wouldn't doubt if he kept his mistrust of her as well.

TATARU !!

They are best friends for certain. Tataru lives for her stories, and has a great time accompanying Tsuna whenever she can. Tataru has a real adventurous heart and she definitely lives vicariously through her in that way. Aside from that, their relationship is full of gossip over tea and all that-- mostly Tataru doing the spilling. I think Tsuna does really well with Ul'dahns extroverts that are really forward lmao.

Minfilia isn't around anymore and I imagine Tataru gets very lonely without her best friend. Tsuna will never be a replacement for that relationship, but I think Tataru appreciates her presence.

Also as a personal observation, though it doesn't have anything to do with their relationship per se, the last Tataru quest ended up being very thematic for Tsuna and I was losing my mind over it. The worries of diaspora losing their culture, the guilt of feeling that you're not doing more for your people, and then it all culminating in recreating Tataru's mother's heirloom. (Tsuna keeps her own mother's wedding ring with her and it's an important part of her story.) I just found it all very fitting for the two of them!

Also, Tataru definitely sewed her a dress for her date dinner with Aymeric, and would do so again. She's the kind of friend that's like 'I'm going to make you look so smoking hot this guy loses his religion over you'.

#asks ; playing postmoogle #thefreelanceangel #lore; weaving a story #thanks for sending! #ain't nobody gonna read all this but it was fun to put down