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your-eternal-muse · 4 years

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How Could I Hate Her?

Heather Series Part 7

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Bonus! Readers Card Confession Part 6

Summery: When checked on by the team, Reader confesses her guilt ridden feelings

Warnings: Mentions and descriptions of depressive episode, light swearing, mentions of medication, but other than that? Nothing that I can think of?

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Heather Carmichael, Spencer Reid x eventual Female!Reader

Words: 3.1k

A/N: Y’all.....it is almost 4:30 in the morning. I started writing this around 9 pm. I am committed and I have Criminal Minds to keep me company so its fine. Also, there is much needed fluff in this chapter. I also tried writing in 3rd person, because there were things I wanted to show that I wouldn’t have been able to if I didn’t. I hope you like it! I should have a bonus episode out later today at some point when I wake from the dead, so, enjoy!

~~~~~

It had been two weeks.

Two weeks since anyone on the team had seen or heard anything from y/n.

“I stopped by her place a couple days after, to try and talk to her. I couldn’t even tell if she was on the other side.” Derek remarked.

Aaron, Derek, JJ, Emily, David, and Penelope stood in her office, talking about y/n, and how worried they were.

They all just got back from a case.

Spencer had immediately gotten called away from work by Heather, who claimed it was an emergency. None of the others truly believed it was.

“As icky as it makes me feel, I can check to see if she is still in her apartment, I mean. If the place where she lives has cameras, I can easily check to see if she’s left.”

She looks to Hotch for permission.

He nods his head in approval.

“Has anyone else tried contacting her?”

“I’ve tried calling, but it goes straight to voicemail. She turned her phone off.” JJ chewed at her lip, her mind traveling to the worst possible scenario. A scenario she wouldn’t let happen. Not again.

“Poor kid. I can’t even imagine what she’s going through.” Rossi’s voice is soft, and he leans back against the wall, eyes not really connecting with anything.

“I know Spencer has tried calling her a couple times. But by the look on his face, I don’t think he got very far.” Prentiss paces back and forth, trying to keep herself busy so she doesn’t go kick down y/n’s door herself.

They all knew.

Derek couldn’t keep something like that to himself. And when he told the team, JJ stepped forward, and confessed that she knew. Spencer was in disbelief.

Y/n had come to JJ so often over the past couple of months, Will didn’t question it anymore. Y/n said watching Henry, and being around someone she doesn’t have to compete with helped.

She never really saw her smile like she used to, but JJ did see her relax, let her walls down. She thought y/n was getting somewhere. She was wrong. Some profiler she was.

“You should have seen her guys.” Derek had been the one to see her shut down before his eyes.

“She was shaking. She couldn’t stop crying, shaking. She was mortified that he had heard her. And then she just, stopped. She stopped shaking. The broken look on her face completely vanished. She didn’t say a word to me when she left. It was like she turned herself off.”

“Confessing your love for someone who then tells you they don’t love you the same can do that to a person.” Penelope says, typing away at her screens.

“No, it’s so much more than that.” JJ says, taking a seat in one of Garcias spinning chairs. “ Every time she would say something even remotely mean about Heather, or Spencer, she would shake her head, look up and smile. She shoves it down because she doesn’t want to be bothersome. That kind of burial of feelings can only end in an extreme.” JJ thinks back to every night, every tear shed at her house. How y/n would wipe her tears, shake her head and force a smile.

“I’m in.” Garcia chirps up from her desk, pulling up video footage of a hallway.

They all circle around, prying eyes eager to look inside the private life of their family, who is in desperate need of assistance.

“So, here she is, the day she left, about an hour after leaving the building.”

They watch the video as she walks down her to her door, tears streaming down her face. She takes her keys out, but before unlocking her door, she leans her forehead against the wood.

Her shoulders shake.

A collective sigh leaves all of them.

“And here I am fast forwarding a couple days.” People walk up and down the hallway, yet her door stays still. Until it opens. She taps a key and the video returns to normal, and a forlorn y/n exists, now clad in sweatpants and a cal tech sweatshirt.

“That’s Spencer’s sweatshirt.” JJ whispers, pinching the bridge of her nose.

Penelope fast forwards again, stopping it when y/n appears once again on the screen.

“Okay, she was gone for about, 2 hours and 43 minutes.”

Y/n is holding two bags, one in each hand, though neither of them are very full.

She disappears behind the door, and Penelope fast forwards again. Morgan can be seen a few times, but y/n doesn’t leave again.

“Oh my god. She left once, three days after and hasn’t been out since.” Penelope takes her glasses off, and wipes her face.

“Alright. We’re doing a wellness check. Y/n clearly needs some help right now, so help is what she is getting. Let’s go.”

The team all nodded, and off they went.

When they arrived, Hotch walked to the front desk, his badge already out. “I’m SSA Aaron Hotchner. We’re here to do a wellness check on y/n y/l/n in apartment 112.”

The front clerk doesn’t question it, simply grabbing a set of keys and leading them down the hallway to an elevator.

Each person is in their own head, but when they appear outside of her apartment, their focus changes. It was about y/n now.

“Y/n, are you in there? Baby girl, can you let us in?”

They stand and listen for a shuffling of feet or the sound of a chair, but nothing.

Radio static.

Hotch nods to the man, and he unlocks her door, allowing the team into her apartment.

It’s dark.

That’s the first thing Derek notices as he walks forward. The second is how cold it is.

The third is the glass breaking underneath his boot.

His eyes land on the pile of shards beneath him, and the move to the book laying on the floor, and the broken mirror which still stands on her wall.

He’s trying not to profile her, but it’s hard.

She didn’t even want to look at herself.

The team walks through her apartment, taking in the abandoned bowls of half eaten food, the empty liquor bottles and faint smell of cigarette smoke.

The path leads them to the living room, where y/n is curled up under a blanket on her couch beneath an open window.

Derek walks over and shuts it, his heart aching at the sight before him.

Y/n clutches a pillow to her chest, her grip tight. Unfinished chinese sits in front of her, beside an ashtray filled with buds.

An empty bottle of medication lays on the ground next to her, and he prays to a god he stopped believing in years ago.

She’s mumbling in her sleep, and the team gathers around, varying versions of wet eyes.

Derek is the one to kneel beside her, and place a hand on her shoulder. He’s relieved when he hears her mumbles, feels the warmth beneath his fingers.

“Baby girl. Baby girl, I need you to wake up.” He knows she’ll feel cornered. He knows it’s a lot to wake up to. But he knows she needs this.

She stirs and her eyes open, cloudy and grey. They flick up to him and then around the room, taking in the sight.

She wants to cry.

She begins to move herself in a sitting position, and Rossi can’t help but notice how thin she’s gotten the last couple weeks. She looks tiny compared to Derek. He just wants to hold her, and never let her go.

JJ notices her lips are chapped, and the dark circles under her eyes. She turns and heads towards the kitchen for a glass of water.

“What are you all doing here?” Her voice is hoarse. She hasn’t spoken in days, unless you count the incoherent sentences she sobs at three in the morning.

Aaron wishes he had stepped in sooner. Her hands shake as she moves to brush hair out of her face. She was his daughter, even if not by blood. He doesn’t know how he couldn’t have seen this.

Emily notices the dry wet spots on her t-shirt, and the pillow that now rests in her lap. She bites her lip to keep her own tears at bay.

“Don’t you have more important things to do?” The words are laced with guilt and self-hatred. How can she possibly take them from a case that could be 10 times more important than her?

Derek runs a hand over her head, wishing he could take her pain away in the blink of an eye.

JJ appears with a glass of water.

“You’re family, y/n. We take care of our family.” Penelope falls to her other side, and grabs y/n’s hand, clasping it in between her own.

JJ moves a couple things on her coffee table, sitting down and handing her the glass of water.

Y/n takes it with her free hand, taking a sip from it.

“Sweetheart, when did you run out of medication?” Derek's voice is soft, it almost breaks near the end, but he holds out.

She sniffs, rubbing the back of her hand under her nose. “A couple weeks ago. They’re filled, I just haven’t….I couldn’t…”

She hands the glass of water back to JJ. Her fingers start tapping her thigh.

“Talk to us, y/n. We’re not going anywhere.” JJ starts to cry, but she can’t help it. The situation in which her friend was in, was dark. It was deep. She’s been on the road to where she is for months, and JJ didn’t do anything.

Y/n thought for a moment. About lying, saying she was fine, that she was coming into the office the next day, that she was over it. But she was tired. Tired of running. Tired of lying.

“I love him.” Her voice is wet, flem and saliva coating each word as it leaves her mouth. The sentence isn’t louder than a whisper.

She clears her throat, and grabs the glass back from JJ, taking a longer gulp.

Her head hurt.

No one speaks.

No one moves.

“I love him.” The tears flowing down her cheeks are different from the ones she’s shed the past couple months. They’re warmer, more full. It relieves the stinging behind her eyes a bit.

“I love him, and I can’t help but tell myself over and over how much better she is than me.” She turns her palm over in between Garcia’s and clutches it with every fiber of her being. “Every bad thing I’ve ever thought about myself is ringing through my ears, in her voice.” She chokes on her sobs, and the room is filled with the months of feelings building in her chest.

“I hate her.” The words fall from her tongue and her chest falls. A weight has been lifted.

“I hate her, and I hate that I hate her. Why should I? She’s pretty, she’s accomplished, she makes him happy.” She looks up at Derek, eye’s pleading. “She is everything, and has everything that I can never have or be. And it kills me.”

JJ takes the glass before it slips from her hands, and sets it down, mirroring Penelope and clutching y/n’s hand between hers.

Y/n leans into Derek, and he wraps his arms around her, pulling her in for a tight embrace, resting his chin on her head.

She cries and cries, and finally after months, she breathes. Her tears stop and she lets the oxygen fill her lungs and she breathes.

For a moment, sniffles throughout the room are all that can be heard. And then Aaron speaks.

“Morgan, I think you should take y/n to go get her meds. A little sunlight and some time out of the house will do her some good.”

She retracts herself from Derek, a slight pink returning to her cheeks. She nods.

“And when you get back, I’ll help you shower.” JJ whispers rubbing her thumb over the back of her hand.

Another nod.

Penelope and JJ let go of her, and she stands.

Penelope notices that she’s wearing the same sweatshirt from the video.

Derek stands with her, one hand on the small of her back, the others holding hers protectively.

“Where are your shoes sweetheart? I don’t want you cutting yourself on the glass.”

“They’re in the kitchen somewhere. I kicked them off and didn’t notice where they landed.”

“Okay. We’ll just be careful, okay?”

Another nod.

The team moves as she does, not crowding her, but never being too far away.

Derek helps her get her shoes and coat on, and leads her out the door.

Once the door shuts, Hotch turns to the others. “Alright. JJ, Emily, start in her bedroom and bathroom. Laundry, bedding, the whole nine yards. Garcia, start in here. I would suggest going through her laptop to see if there's anything we should know about. I know you don’t like it, but in order to make sure she’s safe, we have to.”

The three women nod, and Penelope is already grabbing the laptop that lay at the end of the couch.

“I’ll work on cleaning the kitchen, and David,” He turns to Rossi, already rolling up his sleeves. “I’m sure she doesn’t have much food on hand, and she could probably use a home cooked meal.”

“Say no more. I’m on it.”

~~~~~

The car ride to the pharmacy was quiet.

I can’t say it wasn’t nice to get out of the house. I missed the light.

It was early February, so pink and red hearts decorated the storefront in preparation.

I hated the thought of valentines day during all of this. The thought of what he would be doing for her drove me insane.

It still makes my heart ache.

“What’s going on inside that pretty little head of yours, baby girl?”

I shift my focus, turning back to the driver's seat where Derek sat.

“Just thinking about how much I hate valentines day. It’s over commercialized and the guy who named it named it after himself, selfish prick.”

I see Derek chuckle. “That you are right about.”

I let a small smile slide across my face, and for once it’s not forced. I know not everything will be better right away. I know it’s gonna take time. But still.

It feels nice knowing I’m not alone.

We arrive, and he parks.

We sit for a minute in the silence, and his hand reaches over and takes mine in his grasp.

“I want you to know, that you are a million times better than Heather could ever wish to be. And any dude who doesn’t see that isn’t as smart as he appears.”

He turns his body, so he’s fully facing me. “If you ever feel like this again, I want you to call me right away. Even if that voice inside your head is telling you it’s nothing, call me anyway. You’re not alone, y/n. And I will do anything and everything it takes to make you see that.”

I squeeze his hand, and nod. “I promise, Derek.”

“Good. Now let's go get you your medication.”

I nod, letting go of his hand, and releasing the seat belt, and climbing out of the car.

The pharmacist greeted me with my name and a smile, handing me the white paper bag that held a refill that was long overdue.

Before leaving, my eyes caught something inside a soda cooler at the front.

Derek stops and follows my eye. “What is it, love bug?”

I point to a purple bottle. “When I was a kid, and I had a bad day at school, or life just got to be too much, my mom and I would go to the movies, and watch the most cringy, bad looking movie they were showing. We would sit in the back and eat our weight in popcorn while making fun of everything. And she would always get a large grape fanta for us to share.”

He smiles, and steps forward, opening the door, and grabbing a bottle. “I think this constitutes a grape fanta than.”

It’s getting easier to smile at him.

He buys it, and we head back out to the car.

We sit, and he waits until the pill is down my throat, followed by fizzy grape soda. It's tart and sweet at the same time, and I lick my lips of the stickiness.

The music is a little louder on the drive back.

When we enter the door, the first thing I notice is the smell. It smells like Italian, and the best Italian at that.

I walk into the kitchen and I see Rossi, towel over his shoulder and wooden spoon in his hand.

He smiles when he sees me. “Ah, principessa, come. Taste. I know pesto cavatappi is a favorite of yours.”

He ushers me forward, holding out the spoon with a bit of sauce on the end.

I lean forward, capturing the end with my tongue.

“Mmm.” I lick my lips, and chuckle a bit. “It’s really good.”

He smiles, setting the spoon down. “Good.” He wraps his arms around me, and pulls me into his embrace. He kisses the top of my head. “I love you, kiddo. Don’t you ever forget that.”

I smile into his chest. “I won’t.”

“Good. Now go get cleaned up. Dinner is almost ready.”

I nod, setting my soda down on the counter, and walking through my apartment.

It doesn’t even look like mine. It’s lighter and clean, and every shadow that played tricks on my mind are no longer there.

I look around at the apartment, taking note of how much was done in the time I was gone.

The broken mirror no longer hangs on the wall, mocking me. My couch is back to its original position against the wall, and my windows are closed, the curtains open, letting all the natural afternoon light in.

My laptop is set up and a playlist of feel good songs is playing softly through its speakers.

I can’t help myself.

I start to cry, and I clamp a hand over my mouth, looking around at the room.

How could I have not seen this?

“Oh no, you’re crying. What is it? Can I fix it? What can I do? Tell me what I can do?” Penelope rushes over, her hands running over my arm.

JJ, Emily, and Hotch enter at her exclamation. JJ is holding a fresh set of clothes for me.

“They’re good tears, Pen, they’re good.”

The feeling in my chest is warm.

They move around me, hands coming to gently grasp at me.

“I just forgot that I have a family. I don’t know how but I did.”

Aaron smiles at me.

“And man does it feel good to be reminded.”

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#spencer reid #spencer reid series #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x female!reader #spencer reid angst #criminal minds #criminal minds self insert #criminal minds series #cm series #cm #heather #conan gray #song fic

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chloelucia13 · 3 years

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Chapter 15: The Mall Rats and the Case of the Missing Lifeguard

Pairing: none for the moment (currently Jonathan Byers x (kinda) Platonic!Henderson!reader)

Prompt: You always thought Hawkins was the most boring town of all, stuck in a vacuum void of excitement and entertainment. Well, it seems that way until the world decided to flip upside down, literally.

Chapter Summary: You felt... different. Whatever happened that night in that warehouse had changed you, but you feared telling anyone else about what had occurred. Or maybe... Maybe you couldn't.

Warnings: some fluff, some angst, mostly just going in depth with plot, language, kinda gory, discussions of not having control over your body (flashbacks in italics, separate perspective in bold)

Word Count: 3746

A/N: The series continues! The chapters for season three are gonna get pretty wild, so I hope everyone’s excited to see it! As always, my requests, inbox, and tag lists are open!

Tags: @just-my-fandom, @nightbu-g

“Get the fuck up! We gotta go!”

A harsh cough rattled your lungs as you awoke, blinking quickly to try and clear your vision and orient yourself. “Wh-” you grumbled, scrambling to get on your feet.

A hand grabbed your arm, pulling you to your feet. Your mind quickly caught up with your body and you began to sprint. Behind you, a snarl echoed through the empty warehouse, spurring you further forward and out of the building. “Get in the car!” Billy demanded, and you followed his instructions with no second thought.

As soon as you both had sat down, Billy sped out of the lot and down the long stretch of road. “What the fuck was that?” he shouted, his voice strong despite the clear wooziness that plagued both of you.

It was familiar, that you knew. That presence, it was something that had left a large imprint on you. You thought it was gone. You thought you didn’t have to suffer any longer.

But whatever that thing was, it was more than you had ever seen. It was new, worse than anything you had ever experienced. It scared the shit out of you.

So you only half-lied when you responded, “I don’t know.”

Within moments, Billy screeched to a halt in front of a phone booth. You both stumbled out of the car and tucked yourselves away in the glass box, praying that it would be enough to shelter you from whatever that being was, if only for a few seconds. As you leaned against the wall to try and get a full breath of air int your lungs, Billy held the handset to his ear and dialed 911. From where you stood, you could hear a tinny female voice come through the speaker.

The single light above your head began to flicker, and any hope that you had in your mind that this was something completely foreign flew out the window.

You and Billy exchanged a glance as the light died out, and he hung the handset up before hesitantly pulling the phone box’s door open and stepping out. You followed behind him, footsteps sounding in the distance as you stared out at the open road where the car’s headlights illuminated a path. A thick fog had settled over the air, ashen particles intermingling with the fog and creating an all-too-familiar dread in the pit of your stomach.

As the two of you walked forward, the silhouette of a crowd could be seen through the haze, their footsteps growing closer and closer to you.

“What do you want?” Billy huffed, standing his ground in the middle of the road. You stood beside him, but your fear was evident. “Hey! I said, what do you want!”

“Billy-” you attempted to stop him as a clash of thunder and flash of lightning streaked the red night sky.

“I said, what do you want!”

The crowd froze, and two individuals stepped forward, their features materializing through the fog.

Features you knew as well as your own. Features that were your own.

***

When you finally came to, you were already at the pool. You assumed you had just zoned out this morning, too wrapped up in whatever happened last night to realize what you were even doing.

But that was the thing. You couldn’t remember what happened last night. Sure, you remembered the crash, and that thing, those people. But that was it. Everything else was blank.

You felt different. Like your skin was on fire and your insides were frozen solid. Every light was too bright, every brush of wind felt like you were being whipped, and every sound was far too loud. And you were so thirsty.

These new feelings made working at a pool more miserable than it already was. You tried your hardest to push through it, ignore the pain and just get through the day, but it proved to be much harder than you were anticipating. In order to live through the day without feeling like absolute shit, you had swapped shifts with Heather, allowing you to sit in the air-conditioned office and work at the entrance to the pool.

The day had gone smoothly for the most part, except for the lingering feeling of wrongness that had settled deep into your bones. It was that same feeling that had plagued you when you were stuck in the upside down, a sense fo familiarity in a completely unfamiliar place. But, at the same time, it was like nothing you had ever experienced, like your entire being was just a thought shoved in the brain of a body you didn’t own.

You were about to get up and grab another bottle of water from the fridge when a figure appeared at the front counter. “How many?” you hummed, pulling your sunglasses over your eyes to block out the sunlight.

“Are you okay?” the person responded, and your shoulders slouched at the familiar voice.

“Hey Steve. Sorry, I didn’t realize it was you.”

he scoffed, folding his arms across his chest. “Just a ‘hey, Steve?’ You didn’t call me last night! I drove over here and you weren’t here but your car was! And now you look like you’re dying and you didn’t even recognize me!” he shouted.

You winced at the volume of his voice, your head pounding. “Sorry, sorry. My car broke last night and I had to get a ride from Billy.”

Steve vividly stiffened. “He didn’t... Do anything, right?”

“No! God no! He- he just dropped me off and I fell asleep and forgot to call you. that’s all.”

“That’s all that happened last night?”

“I said, what do you want?” Billy’s voice roared, nearly matching the intensity of the thunder clapping in the sky.

You stood stock still as the mirror image of you stepped closer and closer until they were toe to toe with you.

Your clone and Billy’s clone spoke simultaneously, a singular bellowing voice echoing out, “To build. I want you to build.”

“To build what?” you snapped, fingers curling into fists.

“What you see.”

Your brows furrowed in confusion and you stepped back.

“I don’t understand,” Billy huffed. With a clap of thunder and a flash of lightning, the figures disappeared, leaving you and Billy alone on the deserted street.

“Billy, we need to go-”

“I don’t understand!” he snarled, spinning in circles and taking in the dramatic change of atmosphere that happened in a split second. “What do you mean? I don’t understand!”

A startled gasp fell from your lips as you snapped out of your memories, eyes wide as you fixed your gaze back on Steve.

“What the hell, Y/N? Are you sure you’re okay?” Steve urged, reaching forward to touch you.

You recoiled, stumbling out of your chair and onto your feet. “I’m fine,” you hissed, winding your jaw tight.

“Y/N, you’re clearly not-”

“Steve!”

He jumped at the tone of your voice.

“I’m fine. Just drop it. I need to work. I’ll call you tonight.”

He mirrored your clenched jaw, but he nodded and walked away without another word.

You collapsed to your knees with a shuddering sigh. You weren’t okay, and you wanted to tell Steve. You wanted to beg for help, for him to take you to a hospital or something. But there was this weird switch in your mind, a defense mechanism of sorts, that turned you into a completely different person. It was like you were possessed.

Your reflection on your current state was cut short, though, when a guttural yell echoed from the showers. You sprung to your feet and rushed over to the showers, only to run into Heather who had heard the same thing. You two shared a look before hurrying over to the only running shower.

However, as soon as Billy’s crumpled form came into view, your body began to move on that same autopilot that it did just moments ago, your mind and being possessed by an entity that you couldn’t hold back. Silently, you stood behind Heather as she called out Billy’s name, hoping to snap him out of his stupor. After a few tries, she was successful in catching his attention.

“Billy, are you hurt?” she asked, lowering to her knees in front of him.

“What?” he gasped, brow furrowed.

“I said, are you hurt?” She let out a huff when he continued to stare. “What’s going on? I heard screaming. Should I call an ambulance?” She glanced back at you, confusion further marring her features when she noticed the rigid-but-dazed state that you were in.

You watched as Billy’s eyes lifted up to yours, and then everything went black.

***

The bumpy road made you dizzy as you stared at the road ahead. The car was completely silent, except for the revving engine and the thunder, of which you couldn’t decipher if it was coming from outside or if it was inside your head.

The car rolled into the familiar gravel lot that sat outside the abandoned building. You and Billy robotically exited the car and as Billy opened the trunk, you began to slowly descend down the metal stairs that fed into the building’s basement. Once you were at the bottom, you sat on the concrete floor and stared into the deep black abyss that laid just feet from where you were.

Billy’s footsteps echoed throughout the building as he walked down the stairs, his figure and the limp body he was carrying coming into view. As he walked past you, nausea settled in the pit of your stomach and you were positive that you were going to vomit, but you couldn’t even move.

He gently laid Heather’s now-alert body on the cold concrete between you and the staring darkness. Her eyes locked with yours, silently begging for mercy, and your eyes began to well with tears along with hers. Billy whispered lowly in her ear before rising to his feet and standing next to you, both of you disturbingly still as a growl echoed through the humid air.

From the darkness emerged a creature created from limbs and blood and gore, its monstrous body crawling towards the sacrifice you had involuntarily placed before it.

Beside you, though, Billy was able to tear his eyes away from the sight, anger radiating off of him. You, however, couldn’t force your body to look away.

***

When Max said that Billy may be doing something weird, Eleven didn’t expect this.

Through the empty expanse of black, a car sat feet away from her. BIlly’s car. The headlights glowed bright into the dark, illuminating the large shatter on the windshield as she walked over to the driver’s side and peered inside.

Soft whimpers reverberated through the empty air as she rounded the back of the car, glancing into the opened trunk before looking up and seeing Billy’s figure knelt on the ground.

“I found him,” El announced.

“What’s he doing?” Max inquired.

“I don’t know. He’s... on the floor... talking to someone.”

Billy’s voice mingled with the harsh whimpers from a disembodied voice as Eleven walked closer, anxiety gnawing at her lungs as she struggled to gasp in a breath.

As she walked, she nearly stumbled over another figure that sat on the floor, a few feet away from Billy.

“Y/N,” Eleven breathed.

“Y/N?” Max nearly shouted, and Eleven imagined that her eyebrows had shot up to her hairline. “What is he doing to her?”

“Nothing, she’s just... sitting there.” Eleven knelt in front of you, examining your face. “She’s crying.”

Just as she was about to reach out and touch you, Billy rose to his feet, startling her attention back to him.

And he looked at her. He saw her.

With his eyes locked on hers, her heartbeat jumped to her throat. There was something off lurking behind his eyes, something disturbed. But as soon as she saw him, he was gone, evaporating into nothingness.

She gasped in terror and ripped the blindfold from her eyes, light flooding her vision as blood dripped from her nose.

“What is it? What happened?” Max urged, reaching forward and touching Eleven’s arm in an attempt to ground her back into reality.

***

By the time that you had left the Hargrove/Mayfield residence, exhaustion had settled deep into your bones. Silently, you trudged along the broken road that winded from Billy’s house to yours and reflected on everything that had taken place in the last eight hours.

You felt... disgusting. Monstrous.

You couldn’t remember much of it, but what you do remember made you ponder who you really were. Were you actually you? Did you truly do those heinous things? Or were you just a pawn, a puppet forced to orchestrate these terrible acts to appease these beings?

You were so deeply entrenched in your own thoughts that you didn’t even notice the pair of girls walked towards you.

“Y/N?” Max voiced, startling you.

“Max! El! Hey! What are you guys doing over here?” you hummed, smacking a smile onto your face and acting like nothing was wrong.

The two girls exchanged a look. “We were, uh, walking to my house. What are you doing?”

You nodded, awkwardly crossing your arms over your chest. “Oh, I was just taking a walk. Needed to stretch my legs.”

“Right.”

“Right.” You pursed your lips and looked over to El who was staring at you with a strange look. “Well I should probably get going. It looks like it’s gonna start raining soon. You guys stay safe, okay?”

They both nodded, but their demeanors were unusual. They were usually so comfortable around you, and it made you worry that you had done something to them that you couldn’t remember.

“Bye, Y/N,” El spoke finally, nodding at you before Max grabbed her by the arm and pulled her away.

***

With adrenaline coursing through their veins from what they found hidden under the bathroom sink, the two girls rushed to the heart of town to dig further.

As they exited the pool house, they noticed Jonathan and Nancy leaving the Hawkins Post. They ran over to the other pair, calling their names.

“Hey, what’s going on?” Nancy asked the girls, her brows furrowed in confusion from their panicked states.

“Have either of you talked to Y/N recently?” Max inquired, leading the group under a large awning attached to one of the shops on the block to escape from the rain.

Nancy and Jonathan both shook their head.

“Why? Is something wrong?” Jonathan spoke up.

“She didn’t show up to work today. Neither did Heather or Billy,” max explained.

“She probably didn’t feel good and she stayed home,” Nancy tried to reason, giving the girls a reassuring smile. “Besides, I doubt Billy and heather skipping work has anything to do with Y/N.”

Eleven vehemently shook her head. “She was with Billy,” she argued, anxiety evident in her voice.

That made Jonathan and Nancy exchange a look between each other before looking back at the girls. “What do you mean?” Nancy urged.

“Last night, we were messing with El’s powers and we decided to spy on Billy. We thought it was gonna be a bad idea, but we weren’t expecting...” Max trailed off, searching for the words. “El saw Y/N with Billy. She was sitting behind him, and she was crying, and he was talking to someone.”

“And this morning,” El broke in. “She was walking from Billy’s house.”

Max nodded. “We looked around and we found a whole bunch of lifeguard stuff hidden under the sink. We don’t know if it’s Y/N’s or someone else’s but-”

“It was bloody.”

The same panic that the girls felt began to invade Nancy and Jonathan’s systems, their hearts palpitating and their breathing becoming ragged. “Oh my god,” Nancy breathed out finally.

“Maybe it’s nothing,” Jonathan spoke, shaking his head. “Maybe we’re just reading into it too much. I’ll call her tonight and check in on her. It’ll be okay.”

The girls nodded, but that anxiety still lingered in the air. They hadn’t even mentioned what El had seen in the showers at the pool, but they thought that it wasn’t dire at the moment.

“Do you guys need a ride home?” Nancy asked, breaking the silence.

“No, we still need to do something,” Max stated vaguely before the two girls pulled their hoods over their heads and ran through the rain over to their bikes.

***

The rain was pouring outside as you tucked your hair behind your ear, a blank look on your face. In the dining room, Heather’s parents chatted idly with Billy while you and Heather meandered dazedly around the kitchen.

Some sort of bell or signal appeared to go off in your mind, as you slapped a smile on your face and made your way into the dining room, sitting in the chair besides Billy and joined in on the senseless chatter.

After a few moments, the chat fell silent, and you and Billy lifted your gaze to see Max and Eleven standing in the doorway of the dining room. You noticed both girls were taken aback by your presence, reeling for a moment.

“Max,” Billy stated plainly.

“We didn’t mean to... Barge in,” Max began to explain, finally finding her voice. “We tried to knock but maybe you didn’t hear us over the storm.”

“I’m sorry, but who is this dripping all over my living room right now?” Heather’s father spoke up, shifting to look at the two girls.

You and Billy both chuckled, exchanging a glance before you subtly gestured for him to introduce them. “I’m sorry,” Billy hummed. Janet, Tom, this... Is my sister, Maxine.”

“And her friend, El,” you added, following Billy as he stood up and walked over to the two girls.

“What on earth are you doing here?” he grumbled. “Is something wrong?”

“We just wanted to make sure everything is okay,” Max explained, quickly glancing over at you before returning her gaze to Billy.

“Okay? Why wouldn’t it be okay?” you spoke, looking between the two girls.

Max looked at you incredulously, as if that was a rhetorical question, before Eleven spoke up: “Where is she?”

“I’m sorry, where is who?” Billy hummed, a playful tone in his voice.

“Well, they’re a little burnt, I’m sorry-” Heather rambled as she brought a tray of cookies into the dining room, pausing when she saw the small group gathered between the living room and the dining room.

“Heather! This is my sister, Maxine! And I’m sorry, I did not quite catch your name...”

“El,” El stated plainly, fire in her eyes.

“El.”

“Now, what is it you were saying, El? You were looking for somebody?” you said sweetly, giving her a smile.

El’s brows furrowed confusedly as she looked over at Heather, stutters falling from her lips. I-I saw- I saw you-” El tried to formulate.

“Your manager,” Max cut in. “At the pool. He said you guys didn’t come into work today, so we got worried.”

“Heather wasn’t feeling so hot today, so we all thought we’d take the day off to nurse her back to health,” Billy explained, smiling at you and Heather. “But you’re feeling just fine right now, aren't you, Heather?”

“I’m feeling so much better,” Heather agreed, shaking her head emphatically. As Billy turned back to the girls, Heather offered the two girls a cookie. “They’re fresh out of the oven.”

“No, no, we should get going,” Max voiced, gripping onto El’s sleeve and giving you one last worried look. “Let’s go.”

“Billy, do you mind walking them out?” you asked, smiling at the two girls.

“Of course,” Billy nodded, walking behind the two girls as you made your way back to the table.

“Well, they’re quite lovely,” Janet noted. “So nice of them to check on you two, even if they dragged some mud in doing so.”

“They truly are the sweetest,” you agreed. “Sorry about all of that, though.”

As Heather’s mother began to go off on a tangent, a sharp pain began to course through your skull. Suddenly, visions of El sealing the gate closed flashed before your eyes, her screams piercing your ears. You gripped onto the table and watched black veins creep up your arms between flashes of the burning orange gate slowly web closed. It left as soon as it came though, though the veins still lingered on your skin and a heavy fog clouded your mind, inhibiting your thoughts.

The creature took over your mind, taking advantage of the fog to make you act as if nothing was wrong. You watched Billy walk into the room and sit beside you, him seemingly in that same daze.

“Is everything alright?” Heather questioned, brows knitted in concern.

“Yes,” Billy stated simply, and you took note of the black veins that snaked in his eyes when he glanced at you. “Everything’s fine.”

“Your sister really didn’t want to stay?” Janet asked, mirroring her daughter’s concern.

“No, she’s just not... you know, really a people person.”

“Well, I just don't like the idea of them out there in the storm like that.”

“Oh, they’ll be fine,” Tom huffed, clearly wanting to end the conversation.

Janet nodded hesitantly and reached for her wine, only for her hand to graze the glass and knock it over. “Oh!” she exclaimed, grabbing a cloth napkin and beginning to dab up the spilled liquid.

“I told you to slow down on that wine, Janet,” Tom grumbled, shoving another forkful of food into his mouth.

“Yes, darling.”

“Are you okay, mommy?” Heather asked, her brows furrowed once more.

“Yes, I’m- I’m just... Feeling a little lightheaded is all.”

As Tom made another comment about the wine, you and Heather and Billy exchanged a look, all of the emotion gone from your faces. Out of your peripheral, you watched as Heather’s mother rose from her seat, only for her to collapse to the ground.

Heather’s father shot to his feet to help his wife, all the while you three gripped your weapons in your hands. You handed Billy a bottle of chloroform and as he wet his cloth napkin with it, Heather carried her wine bottle into the living room. Silently, you both followed behind her and watched as she swung the bottle into her father’s skull. Billy handed her the napkin a moment later, and Heather quickly finished off the remaining half of her parents.

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kiyodu · 3 years

Text

The Letters of Vincent van Gogh (Part I)

Quotes I Enjoy:

• Admire as much as you can, most people don't admire enough.

• That does not mean there are no old women, only that a woman does not grow old as long as she loves and is loved.

• Seek only light and freedom and do not immerse yourself too deeply in the worldly mire.

• Sorrow is better than joy -- and even in mirth the heart is sad -- and it is better to go to the house of mourning than to the house of feasts, for by the sadness of the countenance the heart is made better.

• Our life is a pilgrim's progress. I once saw a very beautiful picture, it was a landscape at evening. In the distance on the right hand side a row of hills appearing blue in the evening mist. Above those hills the splendor of the sunset, the grey clouds with their linings of silver and gold and purple. The landscape is a plain or heath covered with grass and heather, here and there the white stem of a birch tree and its yellow leaves, for it was in Autumn.

Through the landscape a road leads to a high mountain, far far away. On the top of that mountain a city whereon the setting sun casts a glory. On the road walks a pilgrim, staff in hand. He has been walking for a good long while already and he is very tired. And now he meets a woman, a figure in black that makes one think of St. Paul's word: 'As being sorrowful yet always rejoicing.' That Angel of God has been placed there to encourage the pilgrims and to answer their questions.

And the pilgrim asks her: "Does the road go up hill then all the way?"

And the answer is: "Yes to the very end." And he asks again: "And will the journey take all day long?" And the answer is: "From morn till night my friend."

And the pilgrim goes on sorrowful yet always rejoicing, sorrowful because it is so far off and the road so long. Hopeful as he looks up to the eternal city far away, resplendent in the evening glow and he thinks of two old sayings, he has heard long ago, the one is:

There must much strife be striven

There must much suffering be suffered

There must much prayer be prayed

And then the end will be peace.

and the other:

The water comes up to the lips

But higher comes it not.

• Our life we might compare it to a journey, we go from the place where we were born to a far off haven. Our earlier life might be compared to sailing on a river, but very soon the waves become higher, the wind more violent, we are at sea almost before we are aware of it -- and the prayer from the heart ariseth to God: Protect me o God, for my bark is so small and Thy sea is so great. The heart of man is very much like the sea, it has its storms, it has its tides and in its depths it has its pearls too.

The heart that seeks for God and for a Godly life has more storms than any other.

• It is dear to you, too, that 'sorrowful, yet always rejoicing', keep it in mind, for it is a good text and a good cloak to wear in the storm of life, keep it in mind at this time now that have been going through so much. And be careful, for though what you have been through is no small thing, yet as far as I can see there is something still greater ahead.

• One of these days I shall make a start with Streckfuss's Algemene Geshiedenis (General History), or rather I have started it already. It isn't easy, but I certainly hope that taking it one step at a time and doing the best one can will pay off. But it will take time - many testify to that, and not just Corot alone: "It took only forty years' work, thought and attention."

• I have been thinking about what we were discussing, and the saying sprang to mind: 'We are today what we were yesterday.' That does not mean one must stand still and may not try to improve oneself; on the contrary, it is a compelling reason for doing so and for being glad to do so. But to be true to the saying, one must not backslide, and once one has started to look at things freely and openly one must not face about or stray.

• There once was a man who went to church and asked, 'Can it be that my ardour has decieved me, that I have taken a wrong turning and managed things badly? If only I could be rid of this doubt and know for certain I shall come out victorious and succeed in the end.'

And then a voice answered him, 'And if you were certain, what would you do then? Act now as if you were certain and you will not be disappointed.' Then the man went on his way, not unbelieving but believing, and returned to his work no longer doubting or wavering.

• We have talked a good deal about our duty and how we may attain the right goal, and we have properly concluded that our first objective must be to find a specific position and a profession to which we can wholly devote ourselves. And I believe that we also agreed on this point, viz (in other words). that one must pay particular attention to the end, and that a victory gained after a whole life of work and effort is better than one gained with greater dispatch.

• Anyone who leads an upright life and experiences real difficulty and disappointment and yet is not crushed by them is worth more than one for whom everything has always been plain sailing and who has known nothing but relative prosperity.

• Let us but go forth quietly, testing everything and holding fast to what is good, and trying all the time to learn more of what is useful and adds to our experience. Weemoed (melancholy) may be a good experience, provided we write it as two words: wee (woe), which is in every man, each of us having reason enough, but it must be allied to moed (courage), and the more the better, for it is good to be someone who never despairs.

• If only we try to live righteously, we shall fare well, even though we are bound to encounter genuine sadness and real disappointments and shall probably commit real mistakes and do things that are wrong, but it is certainly better to be ardent in spirit, even though one makes more mistakes, than narrow-minded and over-cautious.

• It is good to love as many things as one can, for therein lies true strength, and those who much, do much and accomplish much, and whatever is done with love is done well.

• Better to say but a few words, but filled with meaning, than to speak many that are but idle sounds and as easy to utter as they are useless.

• Love is the best and the noblest thing in the human heart, especially when it is tested by life as gold is tested by fire. Happy is he who has loved much, and is sure of himself, and although he may have wavered and doubted, he has kept that divine spark alive and returned to what was in the beginning and ever shall be.

If only one keeps loving faithfully what is truly worth loving and does not squander one's love on trivial and insignificant and meaningless things then one will gradually obtain more light and grow stronger.

• The sooner one tries to become accomplished in a certain position in life and a certain field and adopts a relatively independent way of thinking and acting, and the more one keeps to set rules, the stronger in character one will grow, and that does not mean becoming narrow-minded.

It is a wise thing to do this, because life is short and time passes quickly. If one is accomplished in one single thing, understanding one single thing well, then one has insight into and knowledge of many other things into the bargain.

• It's as well to go out into the world from time to time and mix with other people (and sometimes one feels, in fact, obliged and called upon to do so) - or it may simply be one way 'Of throwing oneself into work unreservedly and with all one's strength' - but one who prefers to be quietly alone with his work and seems to need very few friends will go safest in the world and among people.

• One should never feel secure just because one has no difficulties or cares or handicaps, and one should never be too easy-going. Even in the politest circles and the bet surroundings and circumstances one should retain something of the original character of a Robinson Crusoe or of a primitive man, for otherwise one cannot be rooted in oneself, and one must never let the fire in one's soul die, for the time will inevitably come when it will be needed.

• He who chooses poverty for himself and loves it possesses a great treasure and will hear the voice of his conscience address him ever more clearly. He who hears that voice, which is God's greatest gift, in his innermost being and follows it, finds in it a friend at last, and he is never alone!

• It is good to go on believing that everything is more miraculous than one can ever begin to understand, for that is the truth; it is good to remain sensitive and humble and tender-hearted even though one may have to hide one's feelings, as is often necessary. It is good to be well versed in the things that are hidden from the wise and the learned of this world, but that are revealed as if by nature to the poor and the simple, to women and little children.

For what can one learn which is better than that which God has given by nature to every human soul and which goes on living and loving, hoping and believing, in the depth of every soul, unless we wantonly destroy it.

• The need is for nothing less than the infinite and the miraculous, and a man does well to be satisfied with nothing less, and not to feel easy until he has gained it.

That is what all great men have acknowledged in their works, all those who have thought a little more deeply and searched and worked and loved a little more than the rest, who have plumbed the depths of the sea of life. Plumb the depths, that is what we too must do if we want to make a catch, and if we sometimes have to work the whole night through without catch.

• So let us go forward quietly, each on his own path, forever making for the light, 'life up your hearts', and in the knowledge that we are as others are and that others are as we are and that it is right to love one another in the best possible way, believing all things, hoping for all things and enduring all things, and never falling. And not being too troubled by our weaknesses, for even he who has none, has one weakness, namely that he none, and anyone who believes himself to be consummately wise would do well to be foolish all over again.

#the letters of vincent van gogh

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myonechicagoworld · 4 years

Text

CHICAGO FIRE - MON AMOUR (S01E02)

Heather Darden: Okay, guys, let’s get you whatever you want,

okay?

Kelly Severide: Heather.

Darden Boys: Hi Kelly!

Kelly Severide: Hey! Hey! Hey, guys.

Heather Darden: [nervous laugh] Okay, okay, kids, let’s go in

[nervous laugh].

Kelly Severide: Hey, how are you doing?

Heather Darden: I’m good, Kelly. I gotta go in.

Kelly Severide: Uh…H-H-Hey…Wait, I’ve…been meaning to come

by and…

Heather Darden: Just save it, really.

Kelly Severide: Come on. Andy and I were…

Heather Darden: Stop…right there. Andy never even would have

been a firefighter if it weren’t for you.

[somber music]

[siren wailing in the distance]

cutscene

[siren wailing]

Landlady: Didn’t I tell you, don’t plug nothing in? Look at this!

[indistinct chatter]

Landlady: You know what time it is?

But you want to play, Mr. Flamethrower, huh? What y’all

lookin’ at?

You better pray for him.

[firetruck door shut]

Landlady: You know what, you in a world of trouble now.

Matt Casey: Smells like a grease fire.

Jose Vargas: We’ll bring the ANSULS.

Matt Casey: Up on the roof, ready to vent, just in case.

Firefighter: Okay.

Otis Zvonecek: Ma’am.

Landlady: Kinda thick, ain’t you?

Let ‘em in, idiot!

[indistinct chatter]

[door handle jiggling]

[door kicked open]

Matt Casey: Sir, you gotta move out of here.

Joe Cruz: That’s it?

Matt Casey: Hit it!

Otis Zvonecek: Anything to piss off the engine.

[fire extinguisher spraying]

Matt Casey: Come on, buddy, you gotta go.

Tenant: I can’t.

Matt Casey: I’m not asking.

Tenant: My hot plate caught on fire. My landlord will kill me. I got no

place to go. I can’t go! I can’t! I can’t! [pants]

cutscene

Tenant: [coughs]

Matt Casey: Ma’am, is this your place?

Landlady: You damn right it is.

Matt Casey: That your microwave down in the basement?

Landlady: Oh, what of it?

Matt Casey: Frayed electric cord that started this. Place would’ve

burned to the ground if not for this man. He’s a hero.

Otis Zvonecek: Sir, I just want to say, never seen a civilian act so

bravely.

Landlady: Get over here. I was so worried about you.

Firefighter: Yo fool, that’s not what we taught you!

Kelly Severide: Hey! Candidate! One hand on the beam, candidate!

I don’t care if you’re carrying a damn cow! Men die

when they relax.

Matt Casey: Okay, Kelly. He gets it.

Kelly Severide: Yeah, he better.

Matt Casey: He’s right. One hand on the beam no matter what.

Peter Mills: Yeah, okay.

Gabby Dawson: Next Wednesday, can you…can you do my shift

for me?

Leslie Shay: Yeah.

Gabby Dawson: I have a thing.

Leslie Shay: Yeah, that should be fine.

Gabby Dawson: Oh. Right. Right.

Kelly Severide: Hey.

Leslie Shay: Hey.

Kelly Severide: I need something.

Leslie Shay: [sighs]

It’s the last one.

Kelly Severide: Yeah.

Leslie Shay: I mean it.

Kelly Severide: Right, it’s all good.

- Title Screen -

Otis Zvonecek: What’s with the goat?

Joe Cruz: What?

Otis Zvonecek: The Truck 81 seal, or symbol, or w-whatever it’s

called, it’s a goat.

Joe Cruz: It’s a fighting goat.

Otis Zvonecek: Yeah, t-they’ve got Cerberus, the three-headed

dog that guards the gates of hell. We got a

friggin’ goat.

Kelly Severide: Morning.

Matt Casey: Morning.

Kelly Severide: Hey. How are the Darden kids doing? You talked to

Heather at all?

Matt Casey: Uh, yeah. As good as can be expected, I suppose.

You seem ‘em?

Kelly Severide: Yeah.

Matt Casey: I hear they’re coming to the barbecue.

Kelly Severide: Good.

Matt Casey: Yeah.

cutscene

[knocks on doorframe]

Kelly Severide: Hey, Chief, you got a second?

Chief Boden: Sure, Kelly.

Kelly Severide: Looking for a few extra shifts this month. How’s

Saturday sound?

Chief Boden: Saturday’s barbecue.

Kelly Severide: I’ve been there before.

Chief Boden: No way. Every man on deck on this one.

Kelly Severide: Chief, I could really use the cash…

Chief Boden: Ask me next month.

Kelly Severide: Okay.

cutscene

Otis Zvonecek: Hey, hey, check it out [laughs].

Joe Cruz: Oh, yeah! Best benefit all year, boys!

Jose Vargas: He’s not lying.

Mouch: We’re there when you feed us.

Joe Cruz: Hey, you know about fire fans, Peter Mills?

Otis Zvonecek: They’re chicks who follow firemen like flies to

honey.

Joe Cruz: Bees, Otis. ‘Bees to honey.’

Otis Zvonecek: Whatever, we’re still the honey.

Hey Lieutenant, why do we have a goat on our

truck?

Matt Casey: Years ago, Truck 81’s first fire was at a goat farm in

Little Italy.

Otis Zvonecek: Really?

Matt Casey: Mmhmm.

Mouch: Nah, they used to have a goat at the station, so they didn’t

have to mow the grass.

Otis Zvonecek: Huh. I thought that’s what candidates are for.

Joe Cruz: [snickers]

[PA buzzes]

(Over PA): Smoke-eater in the house.

Otis Zvonecek: Oh, no way.

Joe Cruz: [claps]

Squad Table: [loud cheers]

Christopher Herrmann: Hey!

[loud cheering and clapping]

[ambulance door shuts]

All: Welcome back.

Otis Zvonecek: Jeez, man.

Christopher Herrmann: They ticked a nerve in my leg. I may not

walk straight again.

Jose Vargas: Candidate, get him a chair!

[chair rolling across floor]

Christopher Herrmann: Thanks, kid.

Ah, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, wait a

second fellas, are any of my kids around

here? My wife or her parents?

Otis Zvonecek: No, why?

Christopher Herrmann: What the hell? I’m healed! Ah! [cheering]

I’m healed! It must have been living with

my damn in-laws that was breaking me

down!

Ah! All right, I’m not that healed.

Matt Casey: You ready to get back?

Christopher Herrmann: Yeah.

Chief Boden: Glad you’re back, Herrmann. We’re a better house

with you here.

Christopher Herrmann: Thanks, Chief.

Chief Boden: Uh, later we’re going to have a white board session

about what happened in the Darden incident last

month. I expect you all to be there. But on another

note this is Nicki Rutkowski.

Hadley: Hello…

Chief Boden: She’s going to be working with us next month,

helping out with the payroll. Her father is one

of my oldest friends. We were in the Navy together,

so y’all just treat her like she’s your very own…sister.

Nicki Rutkowski: Thanks for having me.

Christopher Herrmann: Welcome. Don’t screw up the checks – the

first and 15th.

Nicki Rutkowski: Oh, I will.

[laughing]

[PA buzzes]

(Over PA): Accident, multiple injuries.

Firefighter: Let’s go!

(Over PA): Squad 3, Truck 81, Engine 51, Ambulance 61.

[engine revs, sirens blaring]

[horns honking]

[sirens shut off]

[indistinct chatter]

Kelly Severide: What’s going on?

Workman 1: The foundation collapsed, and there’s three guys

down in the basement hole.

Chief Boden: I’m gonna need a 2 ½ up there.

Firefighter: On it.

Kelly Severide: Let’s go.

Workman 1: It’s over here. They’re down there.

Chief Boden: Okay.

Workman 1: The whole floor collapsed. We were pouring concrete

for the second and third stories and the foundation

just gave way.

Chief Boden: (into radio) There’s no fire, but let’s drop the 2 ½ into

the hole…from the ladder.

(over radio) Cruz, hurry it up!

[machine revving]

Chief Boden: (over radio) Get that hose up here.

(into radio) There’s good.

(over radio) This area may give some more so let’s

move quickly.

(into radio) Now charge it.

Okay.

(over radio) Okay.

Otis Zvonecek: He’s pretty banged up, but okay. I don’t think we

should move him.

Matt Casey: Dawson, you down there?

Gabby Dawson: Go for Dawson.

Matt Casey: We need you up here.

Gabby Dawson: Come on.

[chatter over radio]

Chief Boden: (over radio) Shay and Dawson are on their way down.

Gabby Dawson: Oh, that’s a first.

Workman 2/Victim 1: I’m under here! I’m under here!

Matt Casey: You okay?

Workman 2/Victim 1: [grunts]

Matt Casey: Can you sit up?

Workman 2/Victim 1: Yeah. Peter’s farther down. I heard him

talking, but I couldn’t see him!

Matt Casey: Here, take him out.

Peter?

Peter: I knew this was gonna be a bad day. Told my wife

this morning I had a premonition.

Matt Casey: Are you hurt?

Peter: I can’t breathe. Can’t move.

Matt Casey: Alright, we’ll get you out.

I need three pike poles and a saw!

Firefighter: Right away, Lieutenant!

[indistinct chatter]

Firefighter: Ready to bring him up.

Workman 3/Victim 2: [groans and grunts]

Firefighter: Alright. Watch the wood.

Matt Casey: How you doing down there, Peter?

Peter: I’ve been better.

Kelly Severide: I’m going in.

Matt Casey: It’s unstable.

Kelly Severide: Aren’t we all?

Matt Casey: (into radio) Let’s widen the hole but get ready to pull

back if this debris shifts.

Firefighter: (over radio) Message received.

Peter: Not so bad, right?

Kelly Severide: It’s Peter, right?

Can you move your foot?

Peter: No, I haven’t even felt it for half an hour.

Kelly Severide: [grunts]

How about the rest of you?

Peter: Can’t breathe too good.

[groans and winces]

Kelly Severide: Okay, okay.

Peter: Just…just get my foot out, I’ll be fine.

Kelly Severide: Alright, we’re gonna get you out of here.

Peter: Do me one favour.

Kelly Severide: Uh, yeah? [pants]

Peter: No lies [gasps]

Kelly Severide: Fair enough, I think you’re bleeding on the inside.

Your foot is the least of your problems.

Casey! We need this hole opened up!

Matt Casey: On it. Go, Cruz.

[saw buzzing]

Kelly Severide: Hang on, we’ll get you back to your wife in no time.

Peter: Yeah, sure.

Kelly Severide: You saying I got a bad poker face?

Peter: I’m saying I’d be all-in on that one.

Kelly Severide: Well, you’re breathing and talking, so that’s good.

[structure rumbling and crumbling]

Matt Casey: Hold on!

[indistinct chatter]

Matt Casey: Severide?

Kelly Severide: Yeah, fine! Get Dawson over here!

Matt Casey: Dawson!

Gabby Dawson: Here.

Kelly Severide: His lower leg is trapped. There’s internal bleeding.

Gabby Dawson: There’s no way to release it?

Kelly Severide: No.

Peter: Other than that, everything’s peachy.

Gabby Dawson: Alright, I’ll call for a trauma surgeon.

Kelly Severide: Hey, how long?

Gabby Dawson: I don’t know.

Peter: And what would a trauma surgeon do that you couldn’t?

Kelly Severide: Take off your foot.

Gabby Dawson: This is Ambulance 61 on Med Channel 5.

Channel 5: Go ambulance 61.

Gabby Dawson: We need a trauma surgeon for a possible

amputation.

Firefighter: Easy, easy.

Workman 2/Victim 1: [groans]

Channel 5: Copy that, 61. Stand by while I shift to trauma.

[indistinct chatter]

Firefighter: Okay, pull him up.

Firefighter: Got him.

Peter: What’s your name?

Kelly Severide: Severide, Kelly. Everyone pretty much calls me

Severide.

Peter: Kelly. You married, Kelly?

Kelly Severide: No.

Peter: Don’t wait too long. My wife’s name is Georgie. Her dad

wanted a boy, but he kept getting girls.

Kelly Severide: [chuckles] There was a barbershop on my street

named Harris and Sons. Mr. Harris named it when

his wife was pregnant with their first; ended up

having five girls [laughs]

Peter: [chuckle turns into a coughing fit]

Kelly Severide: Alright, easy.

[indistinct chatter]

Leslie Shay: Severide, find a vein and get this saline into him.

Kelly Severide: How long on the surgeon?

Leslie Shay: 15 minutes.

Peter: Kelly?

Kelly Severide: Yeah?

Peter: We don’t have time for a surgeon. You’re gonna have to do

it. Take off the foot [pants]. Get me out of here, get me home.

Kelly Severide: Tell that surgeon to hurry the hell up!

Gabby Dawson: (into radio) Chopper him here if you have to!

Channel 5: Negative, 61. Your trauma surgeon’s already enroute.

[structure rumbling and crumbling]

Kelly Severide: You alright?

Peter: [coughs]

Matt Casey: Severide, we need to pull back. It’s gonna give.

Peter: He’s right. Go.

Kelly Severide: Casey, I need a Sawzall!

Matt Casey: Mills, lower me a Sawzall.

Peter: Uh…[whimpers]

Kelly Severide: Hey, Peter.

Peter: Yeah, I’m st…still with you, Kelly.

Kelly Severide: Tell me about Georgie.

Peter: [chuckles] I…I married above my head.

Kelly Severide: [small chuckle]

Peter: Been playing catch-up ever since.

Kelly Severide: Do you have any children.

Peter: No, w-we tried.

Matt Casey: Severide

Peter: [coughs]

[saw whirrs]

Peter: Kelly?

Kelly Severide: Yeah?

Peter: [breathing heavily] You got a phone?

[siren wailing]

(Over Radio): 61, your trauma surgeon’s on scene.

Leslie Shay: Dawson, here’s here!

Gabby Dawson: Trauma surgeon’s on his way down.

Kelly Severide: It’s a recovery now.

[somber music]

cutscene

[firetruck door shuts]

Christopher Herrmann: Dawson, Shay! Get over here. We got

something for you.

Come on, let’s go. Bring it out, open it up

[humming]

Leslie Shay: Ohhh.

Wow!

Christopher Herrmann: Hey!

[awing and cooing]

Christopher Herrmann: They obviously got their artistic talent from

their mother.

Leslie Shay: That’s so lovely!

Christopher Herrmann: Hey, you guys, these are the ladies that

saved my life.

Come on, give ‘em a clap.

[clapping]

Christopher Herrmann: Yeah, yeah!

[cheering]

Leslie Shay: Thank you, guys!

Thank you.

[clapping continues]

Christopher Herrmann: There you go.

cutscene

Otis Zvonecek: All I’m just saying is, I’m more than happy to

design a new seal more reflective of the truck

we are. Anything besides a goat.

Christopher Herrmann: What’s he on about?

Matt Casey: He doesn’t like our crest.

Christopher Herrmann: I love that goat. That goat’s all about

reversing the curse.

Peter Mills: What curse?

Christopher Herrmann: The cubs. A goat owner cursed ‘em once,

which is why they always suck. Everyone

knows that.

Otis Zvonecek: So we have a cursed crest?

Christopher Herrmann: How the hell should I know? Leave it

alone. The goat rocks!

Otis Zvonecek: Of course you would think that.

[phone ringing]

Phone Operator: Please leave a message after the tone…[beep]

Kelly Severide: Uh…[sighs]

Chief Boden: Okay. They’re good guys.

Kelly.

After you.

District Chief Walker: Darden was entering the attic window here,

while squad 3 was conducting first floor

search rescue here. Fire started in the

basement, spread up into the kitchen. Now,

we all know fire is in a constant hunt for

oxygen. It’s why we cut our vent point away

from our entry point. No vent, and the fire’s

comin’ after us. What started in the

basement, now is looking for a way out.

[flashback]

District Chief Walker: A larger vent cut in the back of the house,

and the fire would have made it upstairs.

Chief Boden: Kelly.

cutscene

[indistinct chatter over radio]

Otis Zvonecek: Oh, candidate, dress blues to the barbecue.

Peter Mills: Really?

Joe Cruz: The commissioner’s gonna be there, along with half the

deputies and most of the chiefs. It’s a big deal.

Otis Zvonecek: Yeah, they cracked Herrmann last year for

forgetting his cap.

Joe Cruz: Go back and read the poster. Full dress blues.

cutscene

[car drives by and comes to a stop]

Hallie Thomas: Double crown moulding? No expense spared on

that.

Matt Casey: Yeah, well, it’s getting there.

Hallie Thomas: You’re never gonna want to leave.

Matt Casey: All depends on what the offer is.

So what’s up?

Hallie Thomson: I said I would bring a dessert to the barbecue. I

understand if you don’t want me to go.

Matt Casey: No, you should come. We should go together.

Hallie Thomson: You sure?

Matt Casey: Yeah. Heather Darden’s bringing the boys.

Hallie Thomson: Well, good. This will be fun.

Matt Casey: I’ll pick you up at 2.

Hallie Thomas: Okay.

[engine drives off]

cutscene

Leslie Shay: There’s Willie, our favourite doorman!

Willie!

Doorman (Willie): Hey ladies!

Gabby Dawson: Willie! Hey!

Leslie Shay: Ah. I should flash him next time. Love that guy.

Gabby Dawson: Unprofessional.

(Over radio): Ambulance 61, battery, 71 West Superior.

Leslie Shay: (into radio) Ambulance 61, responding.

[sirens blaring]

Leslie Shay: Alright, alright, give us some room. Give us some

room. Come on.

[indistinct chatter]

Drunk Man: I just…I’ll sue everyone. [indistinct ramblings] You go

home. Just back. Go back to wherever you…

Leslie Shay: Uh, huh.

Drunk Man: [slurs]…wherever you came from. I’m not…

Gabby Dawson: You got a nasty cut there.

Drunk Man: Eh, get your hands off me!

Gabby Dawson: Hey, we’re with the CFD, sir, here to fix you up.

Drunk Man: Fix me up? No! No, it’s these Irish inbreeds you

should be fixing up. I’ve got four brothers, and

they’re both…

Leslie Shay: Ugh!

Drunk Man: They’re…both of them are gonna…they’re gonna own

this place.

Leslie Shay: Hey, what happened here?

Bartender: No one here saw anything.

Drunk Man: It’s called a black and tan!

Bartender: It’s called a half and half, you moron!

Drunk Man: Ireland sucks!

[singing] God save our gracious queen. Long live our

n…

Someone from crowd: Oh shut up, you tosser!

[indistinct shouting and glass smashing]

Gabby Dawson: Let’s…let’s move him now, alright?

Alright, come on.

Drunk Man: [singing] God save the queen.

Gabby Dawson: Yup, we’re going. Let’s go.

Someone from crowd: Shut your mouth!

Bartender: Piss off!

Leslie Shay: Let’s go! Move over!

Gabby Dawson: Move. Move, guys.

Bartender: Don’t come back!

Someone from crowd: Piss off!

Someone from crowd: Get out of here.

[siren wailing]

Leslie Shay: Oh come on!

Gabby Dawson: Come on!

Drunk Man: Alright, okay, I’m…

Patrol Officer 1: We got this.

Leslie Shay: Thank God. Have fun in there.

Drunk Man: [singing] O Lord our God…

Gabby Dawson: You gotta give it a rest and hold still, sir!

Drunk Man: Black and tan. Black and tan. Black and tan. Bl…

Hello, sweet cheeks.

Gabby Dawson: [yelps] Hey! Get your hands off me!

Leslie Shay: Whoa! Whoa!

Drunk Man: [snores]

Leslie Shay: So you’re gonna bring that doctor to the barbecue?

Gabby Dawson: Uh, I don’t know.

Leslie Shay: Honestly, not every decision has to be an act of

congress. Just keep it simple.

Gabby Dawson: Yeah.

Leslie Shay: Oh, did you hear about Hallie and Casey?

Gabby Dawson: What? What?

Leslie Shay: Whoa!

Gabby Dawson: Stop it. Tell me. What is it?

Leslie Shay: Nothing, just some rumours running around that, uh,

that maybe they’re splitting up. He’s moved out.

Gabby Dawson: What? No, really?

Leslie Shay: It’s just what I’ve heard.

Okay, what do you think?

Gabby Dawson: Nice work.

[giggling]

cutscene

[giggling]

Nurse: Wow [snorts], where’d you find this one?

Drunk Man: [snores]

Leslie Shay: Dawson was actually making out with him and, uh, he

fainted and bumped his head.

Gabby Dawson: When he wakes up, tell him I said thanks for a

great time.

Nurse: Uh, huh. Alright.

Hallie Thomas: Ladies.

Leslie Shay: Speak for yourself.

Gabby Dawson: Hey, Hallie.

Hallie Thomas: You guys going to the barbecue?

Leslie Shay: Wouldn’t miss it.

Hallie Thomas: Matt and I are bringing his aunt’s famous

brownies. At least she always tells me

they’re famous. I will see you there.

Gabby Dawson: Nice intel.

Thanks.

Leslie Shay: Sorry.

Dr. Mike: Gabby.

Gabby Dawson: Mike, hi.

Dr. Mike: Hey.

Gabby Dawson: Hi.

Dr. Mike: How are you?

Gabby Dawson: I’m…good.

Dr. Mike: Yeah?

Gabby Dawson: Good.

Dr. Mike: Good.

Gabby Dawson: Hey, uh, say, what are you doing on Saturday?

Cutscene

[music]

Christopher Herrmann: Hey! Lee Henry! I’m not gonna tell you

again! Put the stick down before I beat

you with it!

Vargas, Cruz & Otis: Whoa, whoa, whoa! What was that?

Jose Vargas: Take it easy.

Christopher Herrmann: You gotta be fair but firm.

Joe Cruz: [chuckles]

Jose Vargas: Okay.

Christopher Herrmann: Yeah!

Otis, Cruz, Mouch, Vargas, Herrmann: Hoh, oh. Oh, ho, hoh!

[clapping] Yes!

Jose Vargas: Nice!

[cheering]

Joe Cruz: Fabulous!

Peter Mills: Howdy.

Otis Zvonecek: When’s the parade, candidate?

Peter Mills: Ha ha, that’s a good one. Good one, Otis.

Joe Cruz: Hey! You, uh, taking collections for the salvation army?

[laughing]

Christopher Herrmann: Got ice cream?

Peter Mills: That’s original. That’s really good.

Brunette: Excuse me, are you the captain?

Otis Zvonecek: Well, no, miss. He’s actually the commissioner.

Peter Mills: No, no, no, no I’m not.

Brunette: Really?

Otis Zvonecek: No, Yeah, yeah he is. He’s the youngest one in

Chicago history.

Brunette: Wow.

Otis Zvonecek: Go show her where the beer cooler is,

commissioner.

Brunette: I’d like that.

Peter Mills: Alright.

Right this way.

Christopher Herrmann: Wow.

Otis Zvonecek: What?

Joe Cruz: So you’re his wingman now?

Otis Zvonecek: Karma.

Hadley: [laughing] He’s sitting there [laughing]…with a napkin on

his face sticking his tongue through it, and I’m like,

“dude, you are my favourite 12-year-old.”

[laughing]

Capp: Who would do that?

Hadley: What’s up with you?

Kelly Severide: Nothing. All good.

Otis Zvonecek: [sighs] [whistles]

Christopher Herrmann: Oh, you and her?

Otis Zvonecek: Mmhmm.

Christopher Herrmann: No chance.

Otis Zvonecek: Up yours.

Leslie Shay: Hey Corrinne.

[laughing]

Otis Zvonecek: [exasperated sigh]

Chief Boden: If anybody does anything, okay?

Nicki Rutkowski: You got it.

Chief Boden: Yeah? You sure?

Nicki Rutkowski: I promise.

Chief Boden: Huh, I don’t trust these guys.

[children in the background]

Matt Casey: Mind if we squeeze in?

Gabby Dawson: Hmm…Of course.

Leslie Shay: Hey, guys. Um, this is Corrinne. She just moved here

from um... [snaps fingers]

Corrinne: Alabama.

Matt Casey: Nice to meet you [chuckles]

Leslie Shay: I knew it.

Hallie Thomas: So, I think I saw the result of some of your work

yesterday.

Gabby Dawson: Ohh.

Dr. Mike: T-The lipstick? And the fingernails? That was you guys?

Leslie Shay: Yeah, well Dawson got her ass squeezed by a drunken

Englishman [giggles]

Dr. Milk: Ooh.

Matt Casey: You gotta quit flirting with your patients.

Gabby Dawson: So we prettied him up a little.

Corrinne: So not something you learn in med school, I take it?

Leslie Shay: We’re paramedics so we don’t go to fancy med

school.

Although…

Hallie Thomas: What?

Gabby Dawson: Uh, been taking some pre-med classes.

Dr. Mike: Really?

Hallie Thomas: That’s great.

Gabby Dawson: Yeah, I mean, you know it’s a…it’s a long way off.

Hallie Thomas: Hey, any time you wanna walk a shift with me, say

the word.

Gabby Dawson: That sounds great.

Hallie Thomas: Anytime.

Dr. Mike: Or with me.

Matt Casey: Hey Heather’s here, let’s go say hello.

Darden boys: Hey Matt!

Matt Casey: What’s going on? Good to see you, buddy.

Heather Darden: I just…it’s hard on Ben and Griffin. They’re afraid

the kids are gonna treat ‘em differently.

Matt Casey: Come on, squirt, we’re gonna play some football.

Heather Darden: I’m gonna get a beer.

[Matt murmuring excitedly with the kids]

Kelly Severide: Andy loved being a firefighter. It was our dream

since we were kids.

Heather Darden: He worshipped you. You sure it wasn’t just your

dream?

Nicki Rutkowski: Well, he protects Chicago and serves the beer?

Kelly Severide: For right now, sure.

Nicki Rutkowski: I’m Nicki.

[bottle opening]

Nicki Rutkowski: Thanks.

Kelly Severide: Yeah.

Nicki Rutkowski: How long you been a firefighter?

Kelly Severide: Since the day I was born.

Nicki Rutkowski: [giggles]

Kelly Severide: Look, I gotta run, Nicki.

[bottles clinking]

Nicki Rutkowski: Cheers.

Gabby Dawson: That was really nice. You’re really nice.

Matt Casey: [chuckles]

Gabby Dawson: [chuckles]

Matt Casey: Kids are stronger than we think.

Hallie Thomas: Yeah.

Matt Casey: So what’s up with the new doctor?

Gabby Dawson: Who? Mike?

Matt Casey: Yeah.

Gabby Dawson: Oh. I don’t know, not much. Just keeping things

simple.

cutscene

[knocking on door]

[door opens, tv playing in background]

Nicki Rutkowski: You, um, you left your jacket.

Kelly Severide: Thanks.

Mm…Not a good time for this.

Nicki Rutkowski: Do you always do what your chief tells you to do?

Kelly Severide: Trust me, this isn’t because of the chief.

Nicki Rutkowski: Is there somebody else in there?

Kelly Severide: Just the cubs.

Nicki Rutkowski: If you change your mind, you know where to find

me.

[door shuts]

cutscene

Corrinne: Have a good day.

Kelly Severide: Yeah, you too.

Corrinne: Bye.

Leslie Shay: Bye, sweetie.

[kissing sounds]

Leslie Shay: See you.

Hi.

Kelly Severide: Morning.

Leslie Shay: Did you eat my yogurt?

Kelly Severide: I didn’t touch your yogurt.

Leslie Shay: Was good seeing Heather yesterday.

Kelly Severide: Yeah, yeah it was.

cutscene

Chief Boden: So if there is nothing else…

Otis Zvonecek: Chief?

Chief Boden: Yes, Brian?

Otis Zvonecek: I was wondering what the proper protocol would

be for designing a new crest for the truck.

It’s just, sir, Engine’s got a camel, which I get, and

Squad has got a badass three-headed dog, which

I get, and we have a goat, sir.

Chief Boden: Named after Billy “goat” Bukanski, first chief of

Firehouse 51 and a mentor to me.

Otis Zvonecek: Just forget I said anything [clears throat]

Chief Boden: That it?

Otis Zvonecek: Yes, sir.

Chief Boden: Then y’all do good work out there.

Matt Casey: That true about the crest?

Chief Boden: [scoffs]

cutscene

Kelly Severide: So if you would, please give me a call back so we

could arrange a time to talk. Thanks.

Capp: You want a smoke break?

Kelly Severide: You mean you wanna bum a cigar off me?

Capp: If you’re offering.

Hadley: If you insist.

Capp: Thank you.

cutscene

Leslie Shay: How was Mike?

Gabby Dawson: [chuckles] You know when you…when you have a

sundae and it’s loaded up with hot fudge, and

whipped cream, and ice cream, and a cherry on

top?

Leslie Shay: Yeah?

Gabby Dawson: He’s the spoon.

Leslie Shay: Hey, can’t eat without a spoon.

Gabby Dawson: [scoffs]

Leslie Shay: What’s the latest with your union file?

Gabby Dawson: Um, I don’t know. I’m ignoring it. Works for

everything else.

[PA buzzes]

(Over PA): Accident, 501 North Wabash. Truck 81, Ambulance 61,

Squad 3.

Leslie Shay: Can’t ignore this.

[sirens wailing]

[horns honking]

[indistinct chatter over radio]

Man: Watch out!

[crashing, glass smashing to ground]

[yelling]

Matt Casey: Get everyone back and seal it off!

Mouch: Good lord.

Firefighters: Move it back. Back! Back!

Stuff’s falling! Move back!

Come on, move, move, move. Come on, come on,

back guys.

[car door rattling]

Girl 1: Oh God, Oh God, Oh God, Oh God.

Matt Casey: Ma’am?

Kelly Severide: Capp! Hadley! Driver’s side. Start there.

Hadley: Yeah.

Girl 1: My friend. My friend, Cameron!

Matt Casey: Where is she?

Girl 1: She’s right next to me. I…I can’t see her. Cam!

[jaws buzzing]

Kelly Severide: Get back!

[car smashes]

[screams]

[sirens wailing]

[car door shuts]

Mouch: Passenger trapped, conscious, but we had to pull back

because stuff’s still falling.

Capp: That driver’s door is jammed up tight.

Chief Boden: Okay, Capp, Hadley on the k-12, you cut the top

hinge. Severide, you work the jaws from the bottom

edge. The moment that hinge pops, you wedge that

door open. Casey, Mouch, collar the girl, get her on

a board. Let’s go.

[k-12 and jaws sputter]

[buzzing stops]

Matt Casey: Stay forward for me.

Uh. Yep. Go.

Grab the end, Mills.

Lean up. Lean up [groans]

Come down for me.

Watch your head.

Chief Boden: Move her out now!

[glass smashing]

[screaming]

Gabby Dawson: You’re okay, sweetie. You’re fine. You’re in good

hands.

Girl 1: I just dropped my phone, so we pulled over and…

[whimpers] Please, is Cameron okay? Is she okay?

Gabby Dawson: I’m not sure, honey. Let’s just concentrate on you

right now, okay?

Patrol Officer 2: Ma’am, please!

Lady 1: My daughter. My daughter was in that car. Is she okay?

Matt Casey: I don’t know. They’re doing what they can.

Lady 1: Her name is Julie.

Matt Casey: I really don’t know.

Lady 1: She has blonde hair.

Matt Casey: She’s okay, she’s right over there.

Lady 1: Julie! That’s my daughter!

Jose Vargas: [sighs] Good thing she didn’t say red hair.

Lady 1: It’s okay.

cutscene

[phone ringing]

Kelly Severide: Hello?

Yeah.

Yeah, sure. I-If that’s good for you, I’ll be there.

Yeah.

Okay.

cutscene

Matt Casey: Hey.

Hallie Thomas: Hey.

Matt Casey: How was your shift?

Hallie Thomas: What do you always say to me? “Fine. Typical.”

Matt Casey: Uh…I’ve been thinking.

Hallie Thomas: Uh, oh.

Matt Casey: No, nothing like that.

Hallie Thomas: What is it?

Matt Casey: Today, one girl died, and another lived because one

decides to drive and the other gets in the passenger

seat.

I moved out because we spent the last year

constantly debating your career versus my

expectations of a family.

What if we simplify things? Start fresh? Just put it all

aside. Live everyday like it could be the last.

I’m saying I wanna be with you.

[slow music]

[gentle laughter]

cutscene

[background music]

Mouch: Alabama?

Corrinne: Alabama.

Mouch: Gulf coast. The catfish regatta.

Corrinne: [gasps]

Mouch: Right?

Corrinne: Yes!

Mouch: Take her.

Corrinne: [giggles]

Gabby Dawson: [indistinct mumbling] He’s, like, wearing this…

this…this cape [laughs]

[laughter]

Gabby Dawson: And he looked like a fool… [indistinct mumbling]

Peter Mills: Yo!

All: Hey!

Peter Mills: What’s up, what’s up!

Joe Cruz: There you go. One, two.

Hallie Thomas: Thank you.

Joe Cruz: Absolutely.

Hallie Thomas: Whoop!

[glass clinking]

Hallie Thomas: Cheers.

All: Cheers.

Joe Cruz: Holy smokes.

Hallie Thomas: That’s all you got?

Joe Cruz: Another round for the lady, huh?

[cheering and laughter]

Gabby Dawson: It’s great to see you guys.

Hallie Thomas: It’s great to be here.

You thought about doing rounds with me?

Gabby Dawson: Uh, a-are you sure it’s not too much trouble?

Hallie Thomas: Are you kidding? I’d love it. You’re already doing

half the procedures we do.

Gabby Dawson: [chuckles] That’s doubtful.

Hallie Thomas: Hey, you’re gonna be a great doctor, trust me. You

have more experience than half of these Ivy league

clowns.

Gabby Dawson: [chuckles]

Matt Casey: Hey, this rounds on me.

[collective cheering]

Otis Zvonecek: Put three more on.

Peter Mills: What the hell are you doing?

Otis Zvonecek: What can I say? Uniform thing works.

[laughter]

Lady 2 & 3: Where are the girls though?

Christopher Herrmann: How does that…

Peter Mills: Damn.

Cheers to that.

Otis Zvonecek: Bye, guys.

[indistinct chatter]

Joe Cruz: Hey! Last to arrive! Perfect timing my boys! There we are.

Man: What’s up, gents?

Jose Vargas: Where’s Severide?

cutscene

[knocks on door]

[Video recording…]

Peter: Is the blood off? I don’t want her to see the blood.

Kelly: Yeah. Here.

There. You’re good.

Peter: And my hair? I should have got it cut.

Kelly: [chuckles] Your hair…your hair looks fine.

It looks fine from here.

Peter: Yeah [heavy breathing]

Georgie, my love. God, I wish I were better at this.

[End of video recording...]

Georgie: Oh my God.

[Video recording…]

Peter: I made a lot of promises to you over the years. Some were

harder to keep [panting]. I promised you [gasping]…a house

in Provence. I’m sorry we never made it there. You worked

so hard on that French, but any promise…that I ever made

about you…about how you were…the final piece to my

puzzle, those I kept till today. Every day. I know…

I know what you’re thinking about Kelly here, ‘cause I

thought it too. He’s exactly the son that I pictured for us.

And if it weren’t for him, I wouldn’t have had this chance

to say goodbye. Oh my love…

[End of video recording]

Georgie: [sniffles]

[Video recording…]

Peter: Do you remember how I made you promise me that you’d

let me die before you? [gasping] Well, thank you, my love.

Because I couldn’t live a day in this world without you…

Georgie.

[End of video recording...]

Georgie: [sniffles]

Mon amour.

Thank you [sobs]

[somber music]

- end -

Definitions:

ANSUL = sophisticated method of extinguishing fires.

K-12 = Fire/Rescue saw. It can be used for forcible entry, ventilation, USAR (Urban Search and Rescue – technical rescue operation that involves the location, extrication, and initial medical stabilisation of victims trapped in an urban area, namely structural collapse due to natural disasters, mines and collapsed trenches), RIC (Rapid Intervention Crew - team of two or more firefighters dedicated solely to the search and rescue of other firefighters in distress), and vehicle extrication.

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roswelldetails · 4 years

Text

RNM 2x13 - Mr. Jones

EPISODE SUMMARY:

SEASON FINALE — Having realized that a deadly threat has infiltrated CrashCon, the busiest event of the year, Liz (Jeanine Mason) realizes that she can’t save everyone she loves — and with Max (Nathan Dean) facing immediate danger, she and Isobel must make a heart-wrenching choice. Meanwhile, Michael (Michael Vlamis) finds himself caught up in the conflict between Jesse (Trevor St. John) and Alex (Tyler Blackburn) once again, even as Maria’s (Heather Hemmens) life hangs in the balance elsewhere, and Kyle (Michael Trevino) faces a moral dilemma when the enemy requires medical attention. Jeffrey Hunt directed the episode written by Christopher Hollier & Carina Adly MacKenzie (#213). Original airdate 6/15/2020.

DETAILS:

The episode opens with Isobel trying to hold back the fire. They don't actually show Rosa convincing Liz to go stop the explosion. But she runs up to Isobel and explains her science:

"I have to activate the ingredients first, but once I introduce my solution to the system it should kill the cellular matrix."

Liz literally squirts the console with her "solution".

Rosa is doing CPR on Max and praying. Max wakes up just as Kyle runs up. Immediately Max directs Kyle to Flint instead of himself. It's interesting. When Max previously killed with his hand, in 1x06, he instantly knew that he killed the drifter. This time he wasn't sure (and he didn't. We eventually learn). Rosa and Kyle take Flint to the hospital.

Meanwhile Helena is saving Charlie's life.

"Jesse Manes was the only one supposed to get hurt."

Which is...not what happened. Jesse, Flint, Max, Maria...even Liz got hurt. She burned her hand on the console.

Maria is being rolled into the hospital. She got there really really fast. Cam is by her side.

Liz is still squirting her solution onto the console. It turns red. Liz asks Isobel to get people away but Isobel refuses to leave Liz alone.

Jesse, Greg, Michael, and Alex are still mid-standoff.

"Gregory, listen. You and I have had our differences in the past, but you should stand with me now."

"You're not well, Dad."

Jesse hits Gregory with the atomizer and appears to knock him out. He tries to shoot Michael, but Alex tackles him.

"Guerin, get the atomizer! Get it away from my brother!"

"Alex, I can't."

Jesse gets the upper hand in the fistfight with Alex and steals Alex's gun. Turns to shoot Michael again.

Liz makes more solution and squirts more of it on the console. This time it starts to crack. Isobel pulls Liz to safety and the console shrivels and dies.

The dying console just doesn't work as well in still form, so @maxortecho giffed it for me! Thank you!! 😘

Max runs up to them.

"You disabled it. You saved everyone."

"Is Flint dead? Did you kill him?"

He looks at Liz with some heavy heart eyes for her being the hero. She looks at him with fear.

Back to the Maneses and Michael. Jesse has a gun on Michael. Michael has the atomizer.

"Drop it, Guerin. Drop it!"

There's a gunshot. Jesse Manes falls and Michael has blood on his face. Gregory shot Jesse from behind.

"I should have defended you from him a long time ago."

"There are no more Manes men left."

Jesse dies.

Indeterminant time jump. Liz is late for work.

"Sorry, Javi. I just...I haven't really been sleeping."

"You've said that every day since CrashCon. You still having nightmares? …Did you read the papers this morning."

"Oh, I've kind of been trying to avoid the papers."

"Did you hear about that veteran who died at the carnival? They're going to have a parade, build a statue. Did you know he was disabled?"

Customers at the counter are discussing CrashCon:

"The CrashCon discourse is saying aliens invaded and killed the guy."

"That should be good for tourism."

"Newspaper said it was smoke inhalation though."

"He was making sure all the kids got out safely and the smoke overwhelmed him."

"We need more people like him."

Soooo much to unpack here. And most of it is addressed by Helena and Rosa's exchange at the end of the episode. But the big question to me is… who is spreading the rumors and covering this up? Is it Flint? Is he even well enough to take the lead on that? Is it someone else with Project Shepherd that we haven't met? The mayor? I mean, Jesse was shot! There was a lot of blood! Plus, remember what happened in 1x11 and 1x12: it's a small town. People notice gunshots.

Liz goes to take a table's order and, surprise! It's Diego. Who had gone back to Denver after CrashCon. He brought Dr. Margot Meyerson to Roswell to meet Liz.

Michael is visiting Maria at the hospital:

"What are you doing?"

"Oh they cut your bracelet off during surgery. How are you? You look better."

"Liz has been dropping by every day to inject me with witch serum."

"Ooh the synthetic nucleotide excision repair genomogenate? We're lucky you're only part alien, otherwise there wouldn't have been enough left of you for her to save."

"Listen, do you think you could use your telekinesis to open this box? Mimi left it when she visited. It's a family heirloom, but she forgot the key."

"Mimi hasn't exactly been leading you in the right direction lately. Her psychic visions led you toward a bomb instead of away from it. Seeing you like that -- all sick and pale and quiet -- I started praying."

Max and Isobel are at Max's house. Isobel is studying the photos of the console and alien symbols.

"I wish I understood why Louise and Nora would spend a year building an alien weapon of mass destruction."

"I don't think it was a bomb. I think it's a communication device. It's like a remote, you know, it just happens to be combustible."

"Are you mad at me, Max? Did I do something wrong? Is it that we're not related, or are you upset about the abortion? Because I…"

"Whoa, hey, God no."

"Because you're not talking to me."

"You're not the only one. I didn't want everyone to worry, you know, 'cause I've been taking some of Liz's antidote. And things are coming back to me. Little flashes, sort of, mostly. Like vague memories."

"Michael said that you kind of zoned out when you touched that alien bomb...remote thing. Did it trigger a memory?"

"When I touched the console, I heard whispers that I could almost understand. All right, it's like the same with those symbols. I mean it's like their meaning is just beyond reach. Except for one word. I took this from Graham Green's display at CrashCon. See that? It's an aerial photo of some crop circles from Roswell in 1948. This farm belonged to a guy called Jones. Pretty sure it says savior... This is my name. Maybe that means you and Michael's parents weren't the only ones that survived the crash. Right, maybe I had a family too. You know, maybe my mom was just across town."

"Max. I really wish that you could just focus on the present. You know, I mean, as a recently deceased man, I really feel like you should be enjoying the simple pleasures in life, you know, like reading nerdy books, the smell of leather, and that feeling when you wake up before your alarm and the person you love is still asleep and they're kind of snoring a little bit. It's like the best thing that ever happened to you. Stuff like that."

"I want all those things too. But I feel like if I only know half of myself, I'm only half living. And I know you understand that, Iz, because I've watched you this year become your entire self. And it is so beautiful. Okay, I am not at all mad at you. Are you kidding me? I am so proud of you. I am so proud that you're my sister."

Michael and Alex in the shed. For all that the shed is such a key location in this show's canon this is the first time we've seen it since 1x06.

"Maria made me bring food over. I gave it to Gregory. Seems to be holding up okay."

"Everything my family touches turns to crap. My dad used to talk about how my Grandpa Harlan built this she'd with his bare hands when he was, like, seventy. For a long time it was my safest space. And the one night my dad destroyed it."

"You're right. This place sucks."

Michael and Alex start destroying the shed. In the next scene Michael breaks a floorboard revealing a skeleton. The skeleton is wearing dog tags, so Alex grabs them. In his shirt pocket Michael spots and grabs the key to Maria's box. The tags say Eugene Manes III. So this is Tripp's body. Which confirms for Alex that his grandfather killed Tripp.

Max and Liz are walking in the plaza.

"I don't understand the violence, Max. Flint could have had brain damage given how long he wasn't breathing. You risked your life to hurt him and he had already thrown the weapon away, Max, so why? I can't get that image out of my head. You trying to kill Alex's brother."

"I know. I snapped. Last year Noah told me that we were energized by killing and not by healing. Even then I knew he was right. I… Obviously I can usually fight that, but I guess this time my better angels just didn't show up."

"We have to stop keeping secrets from each other, Max. There's a scientist in town. She's a supervisor at Genoryx. She has a job for me in California. She's offered to sponsor my dad's citizenship. And it could put me in a position to help Rosa too. I mean, I'd be able to do a lot of good with the grant money they're offering, and I know that all sounds too good to be true, but…"

"It sounds like someone finally realizes how valuable your mind is."

"I think that a change of scenery will be so good for us. I mean, we could get a place by the beach and you could write."

"You want me to come with you?"

"Of course I do."

"Well, I mean, I just told you I have this killer instinct, and you want me to come to California with you."

"We'll figure it out. Okay? We'll figure all of it out together. Run away with me, Max Evans?"

"Anywhere."

Max goes to see Cam at work. She picks on him for getting arrested and has his mugshot as her desktop background because friends!

Max asks about Charlie.

"Yeah she texted me from a burner phone that she was all right and then she vanished again."

Max tells her that he has a doctor's appointment and then asks her to do some undercover work for him.

Michael visiting Maria at the hospital.

"So Alex thinks Harlan found out that Tripp was an alien sympathizer all that time and he offed him."

"So Mimi must have known that you would find it. That's why she left the box. Look, I know you don't trust my mom's visions, but I was the only one who could grab that atomizer and run with it. If it had been you, you'd be dead."

Maria takes off the bracelet.

"What are you doing? Maria, that prevents brain damage."

"I'm only part alien, but it is a part of me. Even if it's dangerous I can't just turn off a piece of myself."

"So I'm supposed to sit around helpless as you fade away? Maria, I cannot watch you disappear. I love you."

"I love you too."

"So can we just let this go?"

"You have it wrong. Mimi hasn't disappeared. Yes she can be inconvenient, she can make people uncomfortable, but maybe she's supposed to be an uncomfortable inconvenience that saves lives. And now I need to be inconvenient, and I don't want to be someone that hurts you. I think that we should find out what's next, apart from each other."

"Wait, so you think that if we break up, I'm gonna be able to stop caring about you?"

"I learned so much, being with you. You sacrificed yourself without hesitation when Alex needed you."

"I would have done the same for you."

"I know. I don't doubt your capacity for love, 'cause you made me so happy this year. And I loved being someone that made you happy. I just think that we should leave it be, before I wonder if someone else could make you happier. Open the box, Guerin. Let's see what comes next.

Skip forward to the Crashdown where Michael has the box in a booth with Alex and Isobel. He opens the box and pulled out a journal, which they in turn read aloud.

I did a separate post on the journal's content and the Tripp and Nora flashbacks here:

Kyle visits Steph in the hospital

"What do you think will happen?"

"What do you mean?"

"When I die, idiot."

"You know, Socrates thought that death was a blessing, because only one of two things could happen. Either consciousness ceases, and it's like falling into a dreamless sleep. Or you go to where all who have died before you have gone. Your loved ones, people you admire. If you lived a good and just life, you will be surrounded by goodness and justice, in a place without fear. Sorry. I thought a lot about this when my dad passed, so I…"

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry that I'm putting you through this again."

"No...I want to be here."

Liz interrupts them. She clearly wasn't expecting Kyle to be there and comments on Max's appointment. Kyle gets up to leave.

Diego and Margot are talking in the Wild Pony:

"I was very impressed with her work when we first pursued her, but when I met her today, not so much."

"Why? 'Cause she had a little ketchup on her uniform?"

Undercover!Jenna staggers up to them and spills her drink on them, tells Margot that she's beautiful, and plants a listening device.

"Anyway I think we should move on."

"Okay, wait a sec. Liz has been working on something recently, but she signed this NDA. Although I guess she can't be blamed if we took a peek, you know? Without permission."

The line that will haunt me for the next year. Kyle to Max while showing him what appears to be chest X-rays.

"You know what I'm saying here, right Max?"

Cameron calls:

"You were right. It is too good to be true. Diego just told some woman he can get her access to Liz's lab. He must have followed her there."

"Well, there's a security system."

"The way he's talking, it sounded like Diego's pretty certain he can get access. They just left here, Evans. You need to tell Liz to get anything incriminating out of there - now."

Max arrives at the lab and immediately sees that the security system was manufactured by Genoryx. He uses his powers to break the system and get into the lab. He quickly searches through all of Liz's records and then pours what appears to be gas or lighter fluid or some other flammable substance all over the place and then uses his powers to set a fire.

He listens to the notes on Liz's recorder, which by the way has 22 minutes of recording on it. Some of what we hear:

This is my record of the dissection of specimen NB.

... immunoglobulin harvested from alien DNA can be transferred to a human recipient.

Commence dissection of the dorsal side of the spinal nerve.

I hypothesize that the female specimen's plasma…

Bracken's seminal cells indicate a pH level double that of a human counterpart.

I'm now extracting the grey matter to measure alien voxel signals.

Note that Max doesn't seem to have any chest pain this time when he uses his powers.

Right as Diego and Margot show up the lab explodes.

Max comes home to find Michael and Isobel waiting for him. He's clearly exhausted and upset after the lab.

"Can whatever this is wait until tomorrow?"

"Jones? That's the guy who grew the crop circles in the shape of my name."

"Nope. We spent the day reading Tripp Manes' journal. Caffeinate, Max... Okay, so, when I asked Sanders about this photo of Nora, he said he didn't know whose hand this was. He was all, Mr. Bernhardt, Mr. Jones, Old Man Gibbons. Could've been anybody."

"Ten points to Hufflepuff."

"So in October '48, Nora decided not to finish building the ship with Louise. She decided to go to the reservation with Tripp."

"But then little Walt convinced her to go to the fall festival, where after successfully avoiding him for a year, she finally ran into the alien stowaway who had crashed the ship. He'd been masquerading as a farmer."

"Mr. Jones."

"Tripp saw Jones approach Nora, and he recognized him from the night of the crash, but he didn't have a chance to ask Nora about it before Harlan called for a raid on the farm."

"Yeah. And after the massacre, Jones was never heard from again. Crop circles were all that was left."

"If you were in hiding, why would you grow corn in the shape of an alien symbol?"

"Maybe they just grew that way. It's the same way that this symbol just shows up everywhere, you know?"

Michael reveals his tattoo and it's the first time Max has seen it.

"Wait, when did..?"

"Oh, I got it when we weren't sure if you were coming back. It didn't feel like it was ever gonna be the same again."

"All right. There. Now can we all cowboy up and focus, please? Let's feel our feelings after we've solved the mystery of the unknown alien. After the raid on the farm, Nora was held by Project Shepherd."

Note...not actually accurate. Michael didn't get the tattoo until Max was out of surgery.

See Journal and Flashbacks post for the flashback.

Jenna and Charlie reunite. Relevant quote to remember:

Liz and Rosa find the destroyed lab. Liz sees the fractal burn that indicates that Max is the one that destroyed it.

"I fought so hard to become who I am, and I just trade her in every time I get scared? No. I don't want to be on the run anymore."

Back to Max's house:

"Whatever happened to that thing that she and Louise were building out in the desert? I mean, did she ever tell him where it was or what it was?"

"Nope. And when Tripp asked Louise about it, she was silent."

Liz walks in and interrupts.

"Why'd you do it, Max?"

They go into the bedroom to fight.

"I'd been asking you for weeks to clear out that lab, okay? I knew it wasn't safe."

"Alex installed a military-grade security system."

"A system designed by Genoryx, okay? Diego could have hacked it. He could already know everything."

"And his nefarious plan is to what? Set us up with a condo in L.A.? Give my family a second chance?"

"Okay, I have a family to protect too."

"Yes, and you could have stopped Diego without destroying a year of my work!"

"I had to act fast."

"So your first instinct was to go with the one method that would break my heart?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking about your heart when I'm staring at jars with Noah's liver and his brain. I mean, what else did you harvest from us, Liz?"

"Those are just cells. I wasn't hurting anyone. I don't know what you thought love was gonna be like when we were 17, but it isn't just sunsets and horseback rides."

"You can't put this all on me. Okay you were sneaking around behind my back…"

"I apologized. I stopped. Max, you died this year. I was all alone because of a choice that you made, but still every single thing I did was for you and about you and with you. So when you were back, when I could finally touch you. When I could finally breathe. I needed to take just one moment to remember where I end and where you begin. To just be whole in who I am. I am a scientist. I am fighting for something that is bigger than me. I am trying to leave this world a better place. And I am in love with you. And right now, I hate it."

Liz leaves and Max takes another dose of the antidote.

Time jump. No idea how long or what has happened in between. Liz and Rosa on the Crashdown roof saying goodbyes.

"Dad is checking your oil and making sure you have enough chile...also you left this in our room. Mom's been texting."

"Trying to come up with a better response than, go duck yourself… You should come with me. The Ortecho sisters take California."

"I wish. But I can't. I'm going back to rehab tonight. I want to see the program through. Sorry."

"Don't be. It's the best possible thing you could have said."

"You know… Max should be your road trip buddy. You love him. You're gonna forgive him. Besides, we both know if you try to leave town without him again, he's just gonna show up with some big, grand romantic gesture to stop you."

Open mic night at the Pony. Alex and Kyle have a drink together.

"So how does it feel to have your father's murder officially avenged?."

"Feels like my dad's still dead. Flint should be okay. He'll live to become the new Jesse Manes."

"No he won't. I'm not gonna let it happen."

"After everything you still believe in redemption?"

"Well, I have a pretty good example of it right in front of me."

Alex sings his song. Michael, Isobel, Greg, and Forrest are all there listening.

Flash to Kyle going to Steph's hospital room. The bed is empty...because she's up doing her makeup, her hands steady.

"Your hands are better. Did they give you morphine?"

"I woke up this morning feeling incredible. Look at my chart. My numbers are up. It's a miracle."

"Or just really good science."

Liz is preparing to leave, her suitcase beside her in the empty Crashdown as she stands at the juke box one last time. Kyle runs in.

"What you did was reckless. And dangerous. And unethical, Liz. Thank you."

Back at the Wild Pony, Michael watches Forrest listening to Alex sing. He turns to leave. Isobel tries to stop him.

"It's a sad story, me and Alex. I have to walk away so we can start a new one someday. It's not our time right now."

"But it will be."

"I think so."

Rosa walks up to a bar. She hesitates before going in, her hands shaking.

Liz buckles into her car, ready to leave. She looks in the rearview window and waits. She's clearly expecting Max to come. But he's at home studying his alien symbols. She gives in and pulls away, leaving Roswell. Her season ends with her looking out over the ocean.

Alex finishes his song and Greg and Forrest are still there and are proud of him.

"Well, damn. How do you feel?"

"Like I just sang a song about a guy in front of a bunch of cowboys, and...I don't care."

"Oh, lucky guy, with a song like that."

"Yeah it was a long time ago…can I?"

Alex and Forrest kiss.

Rosa walks into the bar. Helena is there.

"If you came to tell me what I did wrong, your sister already texted."

"Did you get what you wanted, Mom? Is your score finally settled?"

"No. I wanted everyone to see Jesse Manes humiliated and weak. I wanted him to die knowing shame. But the papers say it was a tragedy. People like him - bad white men - they die heroes, no matter what they've done. People like us - we die villains."

"Yeah I know. I've done it. But I also got a second chance. So I get to leave a different legacy. The last time that I saw you, I said that I hated you. That's not true. I love you, Mom."

"I love you too, mija."

"I also told you to leave and I was right about that. Liz was free and it should have stayed that way. Manes is gone. There is no revenge to be had. No closure and no redemption. Don't come back, mom. Don't bother Liz again. I really hope you get better. Maybe you can have a second chance too."

Another possible time jump. Michael and Isobel pull up to where Max is out in the desert.

"How'd you guys find me?"

"Freaky twin thing. What's going on?"

"I took more of the antidote. Sorry, I should have called you guys."

"Save it. We are sick of being pissed at you for being so obnoxiously yourself. Why you look so scared?"

Pod Squad is investigating a cave. There's a door or opening covered by alien text with the alien symbol on it. It sorta looks like there's something behind it.

"Um, well, when I touched the alien console at the fair, something happened. I heard whispers that I couldn't understand...until now. I think when I touched it I unlocked something... Like a cage? The whispers led me here. I know it sounds crazy, but would you guys help me find a tunnel?"

"It's sealed up."

"I feel like we should learn more before we just busy that door open."

"Yeah, you're probably right."

There's a knocking sound and a voice calls out.

"Help! Is someone there?"

"If Max unlocked something at CrashCon, whoever that is has been down here for days without…"

"I need water. Please."

"There has to be three."

Note that we now know which symbol represents each of them.

The door shatters and they all react (Isobel's face is priceless).

We flash back to the mysterious stowaway/alien hoodie dude/Jones. Louise fighting him. Now we can see that it's Max. Nora kneeling after the crash with the hand on her shoulder. It's Max's face. He attacks/burns the military men/Hector Valenti.

The stowaway/Jones looks exactly like Max. Only with a really bad beard.

"Howdy partner."

MUSIC:

1. Hootie & The Blowfish "Time"

2. Tyler Rich "Leave Her Wild"

3. Clay Rigdon "That Kinda Kiss"

4. Marc Danziesen "See Yourself"

5. Gloria Hart and Art Kassel "Frankie And Johnny"

6. The Score "Legend"

7. Sarah May Byrom "Rhythm Of A Memory"

8. Tyler Blackburn "Would You Come Home"

9. The Well Pennies "The Echo And The Shadow"

10. Valerie Broussard "Dark Side"

#roswell new mexico #rnm season 2 #details #episode details #long post #rnm 213 #mr. jones

24 notes · View notes

byuneebuns · 4 years

Text

Calluna

Minhyuk x Reader Supernatural AU

Tags: Fluff, Oneshot, Witch AU, Supernatural AU

Author’s Note: I wrote this in July of 2018, right before I saw Monsta X in SF, and it has been sitting in my drafts since then. I just re-worked it a little and I think it’s finally ready to let it see the light of day. I hope someone out there enjoys it. ♡

A large plume of dense magenta smoke was billowing from your cauldron, smelling strongly of pine needles. You fanned at it eagerly, trying to ignore the dread creeping into the pit of your stomach as you recoiled from the pungent odor.

‘Pine needles? Isn’t it supposed to smell like flowers....?’ You thought to yourself as you glanced at the open spellbook by your side for confirmation.

The jewel-tone clouds finally started to dissipate and you chewed on your lower lip as you peered nervously into the depths of your cauldron, silently praying your hard work hadn’t been been for naught.

In the bottom of the large metal bowl was a substance reminiscent of tar in both consistency and color, bubbling ominously.

“No, no. This isn’t right at all.” You muttered darkly to yourself, your fingernails digging grooves into your palms from how tightly your fists were clenched with frustration.

This was your third attempt at a particularly complex potion to mimic feelings of love and you were at your wit’s end trying to figure out what exactly you were doing wrong.

This wasn’t a love potion in the sense that it made someone else fall in love with you: It was a potion that made you feel all of the warmth, the fullness, the contentedness of loving and being loved in return. It was happiness in a bottle, so to speak, and much like the feeling was difficult to describe so was it to replicate.

You squinted at the narrow, cramped cursive text that covered the pages of your spellbook, wishing for the thousandth time that your late Aunt hadn’t been so hasty when recording her creations. Her handwriting was illegible at best, and most of her homegrown spell instructions were riddled with scribbles and footnotes that contradicted each other.

“It must be nice to be a genius.” You sighed to yourself, closing the textbook and staring wistfully at the ceiling. A small wreath, only about three inches in diameter, of smooth wood and white heather swayed from a long string attached to the low ceiling beams of your small cabin, almost playfully teasing you. It was her last parting gift to you before she left you alone in the world. It had been a year since she passed away but the heather had never yet wilted, something you were certain she’d accomplished with her powerful magic. You’d never gotten to ask the meaning behind the wreath but you could sense that it was important in some way you’d yet to comprehend.

Your parents had died from illness when you were too young to know them, leaving you alone with your mother’s much, much older sister. She’d raised you as her own and although you knew she was no spring chicken you were still extremely unprepared when she told you that the end was coming. She went peacefully in her sleep but it never felt like she’d truly left you, so you managed to avoid feeling too lonely.

“Auntie, couldn’t you have bought a typewriter? I can’t read this, and what I can read doesn’t make sense. Now I have to go out again.” You whined at the charm, receiving only taunting silence in reply.

You groaned again, pulling on your boots and cloak and trudging out of the cabin with a final sigh.

Your feet carried you towards the tree line of the forest you called home. Your cabin sat in a wide field that was dotted with wildflowers and surrounded by trees that seemed tall enough to touch the clouds in the bright blue sky above them. Your Auntie had always told you that a witch belonged in nature, but that it should be revered and respected. Nothing more than was needed should be taken, partly because wastefulness is considered evil, but mostly for fear of angering the protective spirits of the wood. They never showed themselves to others but you could feel their presence all around you, watching your every move from somewhere just out of sight, as soon as you stepped in their territory.

Your caretaker had been much more well-acquainted with the wood than you were. You had spent plenty of time playing there as a child, but she often ventured into them alone when you were young, leaving for hours at a time without explanation. You suspected that she was practicing advanced magic in private that she didn’t want you trying to copy. You never dared to follow her, knowing that she would catch you immediately and not wanting to suffer the consequences of your curiosity, but you’d always hoped that someday she would deem you worthy to accompany her. She’d kept so many secrets from you until her last breath, which you routinely tried not to let eat a hole in your heart. She had her reasons and they were her’s alone.

Your feet slowly made their way along the soft, mossy earth, your arms swinging freely at your sides, a small smile playing on your full lips. You felt so blessed to get to live somewhere so breathtakingly beautiful. The trees were so thick that only small, green-tinged rays of the sun were freckling the forest floor. You were so relaxed in the silent woods that you failed to notice the pair of eyes following you closely as you journeyed on.

You finally reached your destination, a tiny clearing in the woods with herbs and berries of differing varieties as far as the eye could see. You’d been fortunate enough to locate the little sanctuary not long after your Aunt passed and it had since become a beloved destination for you to find peace in solitude, ingredients for meals, and supplies for spells. It was, needless to say, an important place for you both in terms of your survival but also your spirit.

You knelt down, carefully picking stalks of herbs and collecting berries in your basket. You left a small cloth bundle, tied tight with a ribbon, on the ground nearby. This was almost certainly a garden being cultivated with the magic of forest spirits, so it was only polite to leave an offering as payment.

“I don’t like cucumbers.” A disparaging voice suddenly called over your shoulder.

You spun around and stumbled backwards in shock, tripping over an exposed root and crawling backwards on your hands, ignoring the stinging pain in your ankle.

A tall, thin man towered over you, watching you with thinly veiled amusement. He took a step towards you and you gasped, scrambling backwards into a bush as you desperately tried to put more distance between the two of you.

The stranger bent down on one knee and plucked your offering from the ground, untying the ribbon with nimble fingers, and pulled a sour face at the contents.

“It always has cucumber, why can’t they just be normal?” He grumbled, pinching the tiny sandwich between his forefinger and his thumb, a pout blooming spectacularly on his mouth and marring his elegant features.

Now that his attention was directed elsewhere you were able to get a proper look at him. He looked to be about your age, maybe a few years older, had a thin frame with broad shoulders and otherwise even proportions and was deceptively muscular. He had delicate cat-like features with high cheekbones, his face promising mischief. Straight brows hovered over almond-shaped eyes with glittering black irises, and a small, straight nose with thin lips and a sharp jaw. His hair was the color of fresh snow, messy and sticking up oddly in places, and upon closer inspection seemed to have some small leaves and twigs tangled in it.

In fact, the closer you looked at him the more wild he appeared. There were smears of dirt on his arms and face and his shirt was torn in strange places, like he’d fist fought with a thorn bush and lost badly. His pants were worn and had large grass stains at the knees. He looked like he hadn’t seen a proper bed or bath in ages.

Despite his forlorn appearance, he was truly stunning.

He turned to you with a scowl.

“Don’t you know how to make anything else?”

Your initial shock having subsided, you felt yourself practically swelling with indignation.

“I can, thank you very much. And those aren’t for you anyways, they’re an offering for the forest spirits.” You huffed, crawling forward gingerly on scuffed hands and knees to snatch the container from his ungrateful hands.

He looked at you incredulously before tipping his head back and laughing, earning another look of apprehension from you.

“Well the forest rejects your offering. Come back with something tastier.” He said, taking your basket from your unsuspecting grip.

“H-hey!”

Your mouth fell open in disbelief as you watched the man replacing everything you’d carefully collected in its original place.

A lunatic.

There was no other explanation. He was a lunatic.

“Excuse me, but what gives you the right to decide my offering isn’t good enough?” You spat, trying and failing to get past him to retrieve your belongings.

“No one needs to give me the right to decide what I will and won’t accept.” He replied haughtily, tossing your now-empty basket in your lap.

You glowered at each other for a few terse moments before you burst into hollow laughter.

“What is so funny?” The man’s arms were folded across his chest now, his pout returning in full force.

You stopped laughing when you saw how serious your companion was.

“Are you really trying to tell me that you’re some kind of forest spirit?” You said, your voice deadpan to emphasize your disbelief.

“I prefer nymph since I have a physical form, and my name is Minhyuk.” He said matter-of-factly, watching you with tense, wary eyes.

You blinked once, twice, three times before speaking.

“You’re really...a nymph?” You asked, feeling every bit as stupid as you doubtlessly sounded.

Minhyuk rolled his eyes.

“No, I’m an elk.”

Your cheeks colored with humorless embarrassment. You’d always imagined forest nymphs to be more...fairly-like? Small and playful, happy creatures, perhaps with little translucent wings. Not like this...sassy man that was eating the berries you’d planned on taking with you, his expression surly.

“So...you really won’t let me take anything unless I bring you something else?” You asked, your disbelief evident in your tone.

“Oh, you’re still here? I hadn’t noticed. A blueberry pie sounds nice. The old lady used to bring them every so often, so I’m sure that you have a recipe somewhere.” He said in between mouthfuls, ignoring your visible annoyance.

“Until then I guess you’ll have to find somewhere else to forage seeing as this is my house you’re in.”

“Wait, what about an old lady?” You asked, brow furrowing with confusion.

“Don’t you have a pie to bake?” Minhyuk stood, clearly signaling that your conversation was over.

“I’m not making you a pie, you brat!”

“Then I guess you won’t be making much else, either.”

The sight of his parting smirk would haunt you for days to come.

***

“Stupid nymph.” You hissed before you stuck your thumb in your mouth to nurse the bead of your cherry-red blood that was forming on the fingertip. You glared at the bush you’d been foraging through, unsure if your irritation was from your finger being pricked or from your lack of success.

You’d been desperately trying to find high quality ingredients elsewhere for nearly a week but suddenly it was as if they were scarce, or worse, ceased to exist. The tiny garden, however, remained a treasure trove of wildlife, mocking you and your inability to access it without being accosted by an overly large child. You had no trouble finding an abundance of blueberries wherever you looked, though.

You had every reason to suspect that this was Minhyuk’s doing. Of course you couldn’t really confirm it was anything more than bad luck but you could have sworn that you heard him snickering each time you found nothing and grew more frustrated.

“I’m losing my mind.” You sighed, tugging your hair at the root.

“You’ll go bald if that’s how you cope with stress.” A smug voice from over your shoulder commented.

“You-” You spun around, tripping over your feet in your haste. You tottered forward, swinging your arms to try and break your fall. Minhyuk’s surprised face was the last thing you saw before you fell into something solid, something that was very obviously not dirt.

Minhyuk’s firm hands gripped your shoulders and pushed you back into a standing position an arm’s length away, his dirty cheeks flushed a dusty rose.

“Ugh, its you. Why am I always falling when you’re around?” You grumbled, your former ire returning after the shock of his sudden appearance faded.

“I can’t help it if you’re falling for me.” He replied with a self-assured smirk and a shrug.

“Would literally rather dive naked into a pit of poison ivy.”

“That can be arranged. Why are you wasting time here anyway? Shouldn’t you be baking?”

“I already told you, I’m not making anything for a brat like you.” You snapped, crossing your arms with finality.

“Guess you’ll have to give up whatever experiment you’re working on then. You won’t harvest anything here without my blessing.”

So he was behind this after all. True to his word, you hadn’t been able to forage anything at all since your last meeting.

You fumed, turning over your options in your head. As much as you couldn’t stand Minhyuk it surely would be less effort to bake for him than it would be to try and find a new place to gather, wouldn’t it? Every fiber of your being was revolting against you as you considered this, screaming that it was the principle of the matter and you shouldn’t submit to such an arbitrary demand, but logic slowly won out.

“Fine. But you’re helping me.”

***

“I do hope that you’re better at magic than you are at baking.”

“I would be done already if you just let me use my magic to begin with!” You practically shouted. Your appearance mirrored your companion’s, your faces and clothing speckled with flour. Your hands were stained blue and your failed attempt at crafting a blueberry pie by hand sat ominously on the windowsill where it was cooling.

“It tastes funny if you don’t make it by hand. Nymphs can’t tell lies, you know, so trust me on this. It isn’t the same.” Minhyuk grumbled, his nose wrinkling with the depth of his pout.

“How many people are honestly bringing you pies for you to claim to know the difference?” You whined, but you were met with silence instead of the snarky reply you’d come to expect. You couldn’t help recalling having a similar argument with your Aunt in your youth. She, too, had always insisted that food tasted better when made with powers of the heart rather than with magic.

You turned your back on the oven and found Minhyuk eyeing your ceiling with a somber expression on his face.

“Um...are you okay?”

His snapped towards at an alarming rate, his features carefully rearranging into their default expression of haughtiness.

“I’m fine. Just wondering if you’re polite enough to make sure that thing isn’t poisonous before you try to feed it to me.”

You stuck your tongue out in response but your eyes wandered to where his had been fixed moments before, and you felt a curious sensation in the pit of your stomach when they found the white heather wreath swaying peacefully exactly where Minhyuk had been staring so intently.

“You were looking at that.” Your finger pointed at the wreath, your voice questioning even though you’d made a statement.

Minhyuk watched at you, momentarily stricken silent, his eyes searching yours for something unknown.

“So what if I was?” He challenged, narrowing his eyes.

“Do you know something about it? Its a token my Aunt left me.” You asked tentatively, watching Minhyuk’s face closely.

“So what if I do?” He countered with a stony voice, his shoulders squared.

“Can you please tell me more about it?” You could feel your hands starting to shake with emotion.

“Do you know what white heather symbolizes?” He asked slowly, after some consideration.

You shook your head in reply.

“Protection and the granting of wishes. One of her final living acts was to make that for you. It takes an incredible amount of power to craft an undying flower for someone not innately attuned to nature. She was very talented. She loved you very much.” He explained, his voice soft, his eyes seeking out the wreath again rather than you.

“How do you know that?” You breathed, your voice quietly shaking from the tears you were trying to swallow.

“I helped her make it. Did you never wonder what she spent so much time doing alone in the woods? I met your Aunt when I was still small. I still remember the day that she brought you home. She was so enamored with you. She tried many times to get me to leave the forest and meet you, but I refused.”

You watched a small, sad smile curl Minhyuk’s lips upwards ever so slightly, bringing a pang to your heart as you quietly waited for him to continue.

“She still made time to visit me even though she was busy with you. It was hard at first and I was jealous, it gets lonely in the forest, but I managed. She would come and talk to me for hours, show me spells of her own design, bring me all kinds of food, ask me how the plants were doing, and I would show her some magic of my own. Nymphs are not very different from witches, you know. We both use magic, just of a different variety. We commune directly with the spirit of nature and create, where as you create based on things that we’ve already made. Yeah, your aunt didn’t much care for that observation either.” Minhyuk laughed loudly at your disgruntled expression, but his eyes were soft and kind as he reminisced on his past, making him even more beautiful to behold. His laughter slowly died out, giving way for the sadness to creep back into his eyes as he looked to the ceiling again.

“When she knew that she was dying...she came to me and asked how to create life. I refused at first, afraid that it was too ambitious for her frail form, afraid it would harm her, afraid of what she wanted to accomplish...but she was relentless. She came every single day and begged. When I finally asked her why, her answer was simple: for you. She wanted to show you that she was always with you. So I showed her, and of course she was eventually successful. She asked me to watch over you but...I still couldn’t bring myself to meet you. So instead I made that garden and I’ve been maintaining it ever since.”

Minhyuk ended his story with a deep sigh, sounding as if a great weight had been lifted from him, and finally returned his gaze to you. Your breath caught when he took a step forward and extended a hand towards you, using the tips of his fingers to brush away the tears that had been streaming down your cheeks unbeknownst to you.

“Why did you wait until now to reveal yourself to me? You’ve really been watching me all this time?” You whispered, your voice cracking.

“I had no choice when you started only leaving offerings with cucumber in them. I can’t eat cucumbers, they’re too disgusting. And because...because she always wanted me to be your friend. You such were an ugly, loud, mud-covered brat when you were young but you’re...different now. So I thought I should grant her wish after all.” A deep crimson blush, made even more vibrant in contrast to his snowy hair, blossomed across his cheeks. It must have been contagious, because you could feel heat rising on your face as well.

“W-what do you mean I was an ugly brat?! I was a normal child.” You blurted out with indignation.

“No, you were gross, just like that poor excuse for a pie.” He answered, his sassy attitude returning despite the lingering pink tinge of his cheeks.

You took the insult in stride, choosing to ignore it rather than start another battle of wits that you were sure to lose.

“You said that you were lonely. Where are the other nymphs?”

“They’re all spirits now. When a nymph comes of age they can choose to keep their corporeal form or they can become spirits. Most choose to become spirits because, I mean, you’re becoming one with nature and what more could you want than that? We aren’t born very often so it makes for a lonely childhood, which is another compelling argument for choosing a spirit form- you’re never technically alone again. I chose to stay in this body.” He finished matter-of-factly.

“Why?”

“I loved the old lady. I didn’t want to leave her. She asked me to watch over you for her and I wouldn’t want to leave you either. Even if you were a snot-nosed brat.”

“Well, you know they say that the ugliest ducklings are destined to become the most beautiful swans, so I’ll thank you for thinking so highly of me.” You teased, tapping Minhyuk’s nose with your finger playfully.

To your general astonishment his saturated blush from before returned.

“I never called you beautiful.” He stammered, looking away from you.

“But, do you think I’m beautiful? Nymphs can’t lie, right?” You asked, smirking as you peered at him, trying to get a better look at his face.

“No, nymphs can’t lie. And yes, I do think you’re very, very beautiful.” He whispered, still refusing to meet your eyes.

It was your turn for your face to glow like a sunset. You’d asked, expecting a snarky answer, not fully believing what he’d said previously about nymphs being bound to their honesty. Your lips formed a small, wordless “oh” as you stared at him, awestruck.

“You’re still a terrible baker though, so don’t let it go to your head.”

***

You pulled the oven door open with apprehension, bracing yourself for another failure, and gasped loudly when instead your eyes fell on what appeared to be a flawless blueberry pie.

You bounced on the balls of your heels excitedly before carefully extracting the dessert from the oven and placing it on the windowsill to cool where you could admire it safely from afar.

“Ahh, I can’t wait to show Minhyuk!” You squealed, clapping your hands together.

“Can’t wait to show me what?”

You whirled around, more shocked than you perhaps should have been to find Minhyuk leaning against your doorframe.

In the weeks that had passed since he shared his stories about your Aunt with you he had been a near constant presence in your home, always making stupid excuses for why he’s there like “I’m just making sure you aren’t hiding any cucumber in my pie”. You had offered to let him stay over since you felt a little bad for him sleeping in the outdoors alone, but he always shyly declined.

“Come, look!” You were already dragging him by the hand to the window to show him your handiwork.

“Wow, that doesn’t look half bad.” He whistled, eyeing it with great interest, eyes sparkling. He took a step towards it, arm outstretched, earning a whack on the shoulder from you.

“It isn’t ready yet! It still has to cool or you’ll burn yourself.” You chastised, moving protectively in front of your masterpiece, hands on your hips.

“Okay, fine, fine.” Minhyuk said, massaging his shoulder with one hand and stifling a yawn with the other.

“Sleepy?”

He nodded, swallowing another yawn behind his large palm.

“Its getting harder to sleep outside at night these days. Getting cold. I heard that long ago, when humans were less prevalent on Earth, it was more common for nymphs to choose to keep their physical forms. I always wonder what they did to keep warm.”

“Why don’t you take a nap while the pie cools? After you eat maybe we can think of some solutions for that.”

Minhyuk nodded, too exhausted to argue. He refused to be led to the bed though, insisting instead to sit next to you on the couch and sleep sitting up.

His resistance didn’t last. Before long he slumped to his side, his head tumbling into your lap. You caught your gasp in your hand, stifling it and carefully setting down the spellbook you’d been perusing while he napped so your movements wouldn’t disturb him while he slumbered.

You watched him sleep, oddly comfortable despite the slight awkwardness of his face pressed into your bare thighs. Without thinking your hand found his hair, smoothing it gently, relishing in how impossibly silken it was, your fingers gliding through the soft strands like they were water.

Minhyuk’s eyes shot open and you went to pull your hand away, embarrassed, but he caught it in his, holding you firmly in place as he adjusted himself so he was facing you. He stared up at you, blinking the sleep from his eyes, not speaking or removing his head from your legs.

“I-I think the pie should be ready by now,” You supplied after several long moments of silence, hoping to diffuse the tension in the air. “Why don’t we go get some?”

Minhyuk didn’t move immediately and something in his expression was making you feel like you were frozen in place, like he was seeing right through you and counting each of your racing heart beats in slow motion.

He finally lifted himself from your lap and quietly made his way to the kitchen and sat at the dinner table, waiting expectantly. You retrieved the pie, regretting that you hadn’t tried it yourself first as you cut a generous piece for him and slid it on a plate. You were silently praying to anyone that would listen that it would taste as good as it looked.

To your surprise Minhyuk didn’t hesitate to pile his fork with the pastry and bring it to his waiting mouth. You had expected him to make some catty remark about you trying the first bite, or taking a tiny bite “just in case”.

‘He must really be exhausted if he’s being so docile.’ You thought to yourself as you watched him chew with bated breath.

When he swallowed you swallowed with him out of nerves. The seconds of silence seemed like they stretched into hours as you waited for his reaction, but it never came. Instead he simply loaded up his fork again and took another bite, closing his eyes while he chewed. He continued like this until his plate was as clean as when you’d taken it out of the cabinet.

“Well? How was it?” You finally inquired, unable to contain yourself any longer, your nervousness making your voice come out in a higher pitch than normal.

Minhyuk stood, the sound of the chair scraping the floor making you jump, and moved towards you as if in a daze.

When his lips met yours, they tasted strongly of blueberry and sugar. You were too surprised to move at first but the ice around you slowly melted as he held you and your arms slowly circled his waist as your lips molded to his, your eyes fluttering closed.

His hands crept down your waist, gripping your hips firmly as he deepened the kiss. You felt your legs starting to wobble while he explored your mouth, the sweet taste of sugar and fruit on his tongue overwhelming your senses. His hold on you was all that was keeping you upright and you were starting to wonder if this was going to be the way you died, in the arms of a beautiful man without a breath of air left in your lungs, when he pulled away at last, chest heaving while you both struggled to catch your breath.

Minhyuk leaned forward, kissing your forehead softly in stark contrast to the heated one he’d pressed to your lips moments ago.

“It was wonderful.” He whispered, his lips moving against your forehead as they formed his words. He took a step back, his eyes overflowing with affection, and moved past you and out of the room. You followed him as he stumbled into your room, his exhaustion evidently taking over as he collapsed into your bed face first.

The deep breaths he was taking were confirmation enough that he had fallen asleep. You smiled tenderly as you looked down at his sleeping form fondly. Warmth bubbled up from the very tips of your toes, spreading throughout your body in a wave, making you feel impossibly at peace. You sighed through your nose, contented. Seeing him sleeping in your bed just felt so...right.

You padded back to the kitchen as slowly and silently as you could muster so as not to disturb your slumbering guest. You moved to cover the remaining pie and put it in the refrigerator for later, but stilled as something odd caught your attention from the corner of your eye.

Your cauldron, which you’d abandoned with your last failed experiment still stuck like cement to the bottom of it, was bubbling merrily. You rushed over, panic-stricken, and gasped when your nose was assaulted with the scent of fresh florals. The failed potion from before had sprung to life, it’s contents now a color that reminded you of Minhyuk’s hair, a comparison that made your cheeks flush involuntarily.

Then, as if you were struck by lighting, you were rooted to where you stood with the gears in your mind turning faster than you could comprehend. You glanced back at the sleeping nymph, realization finally dawning on you. A soft gasp slipped through your lips and the rosy color on your face deepened to a blazing scarlet.

You tentatively dipped a ladle into the concoction, sniffing its contents gingerly before taking a hesitant sip. Your eyes squeezed shut, a smile winding its way through your lips. You’d finally done it. You laughed to yourself at the irony of the situation, your eyes settling on the heather wreath swaying delicately in the breeze from the open window.

You’d been trying to all this time to create something that you were lacking when the ingredient you needed was what you were missing all along.

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dopescotlandwarrior · 5 years

Text

A Hero Among Us-Chapter 11

Previous chapters on AO3 Special thanks to @Statell, for all your help

Chapter Eleven

The day after Thanksgiving, Ned Gowen left for San Francisco promising to be back by Christmas. He was charged with a hugely important mission, find and contact the owner of the hidden property and make the purchase. He and Jamie built a plan over whisky and midnight oil and agreed to as sweet a price as Jamie could afford. It was anyone’s guess if the family would sell, or for how much. They didn’t have the luxury of negotiation, it just took too long for a letter to make it to Europe and back. The transatlantic telegraph was fast and reliable for making an offer, the legal signatures could take up to a month.

Jamie clasped Ned’s hand and held his horse. He could barely lift his eyes from the gravel under his feet and Ned noticed his mood.

“Jamie, all is not lost. Ye need to keep riding each day and find other properties that will work. There are thousands of dead acres nearby so don’t give up hope.”

Jamie nodded and sent Ned off with a fond farewell. He decided after worrying for half the day, it would not serve to sit idle. He wanted more information about the hidden vineyard. He and Claire mounted up and galloped into the fields vanishing into the wilderness to all observers and finding the property again with little trouble. They pushed the horses to the house and tied them in the long grass for grazing.

Jamie stood on the shore of the lake and looked across the water until boredom drove Claire inside. She wasn’t feeling well and thought to find a covered sofa to sit down for a few minutes. She wandered through the giant house going from room to room. The master’s bedroom was like the royal chambers of the Persian princes she read about as a girl. Sumptuous, elegant, ridiculously dirty from neglect. She tried to imagine how long ago the family left. She continued to wander and found herself in the nursery again. She pulled her hand along the crib and imagined a tiny baby squealing for his mother. She saw herself holding a child to her breast while another child played at her feet. Drawers were pulled open and her mind filled them with tiny clothes and mittens and boots. The last drawer she opened had a piece of paper, dusty but readable, assorted items of clothing, tiny shoes, and mud handprints of a small child. The piece of paper was a hand-written note that read;

My love, Nikoli, I leave the possessions of your children to comfort you until we can join you. You are loved and deeply missed husband. I return to Romania with a sad heart to leave your body behind but never forgotten. If you can breathe life back into this land your loss will have meaning. A depth of love I never thought possible lived here and I will return to spend eternity with you my love, as soon as I can. Your loving Churassia.

If the finder of this note will contact me and promise to lay my bones in this land with my loving husband, I am grateful, and the land is yours to be exchanged with the same instructions until my death.

Claire wept for the young woman and her unbearable loss. Sweat rolled down her temple and her stomach churned pushing her back outside to find Jamie. Descending the staircase seemed to tap every ounce of strength she had so she gripped the banister and pulled herself along. She could see her husband in the same place, looking out at the lake, but when she stepped outside, she felt her feet leave the ground as the dirt rushed toward her.

“Sassenach! Tell me, love, are ye alright? What happened to ye to make ye so white and cryin.” Jamie held her to him.

Claire looked up and feeling a massive dizzy spell, sank back into Jamie’s lap. “The paper, where is it, did I drop it?”

Jamie looked in the direction she had come from and picked it up. Placing the paper on Claire’s chest he carried her to a sofa. He watched her pale face sweat and tears flow. She looked at Jamie, her rock, her dearest love.

“Let’s hope you are more stout than that poor bugger.”

Jamie read the document and felt a chill go up his spine. He could not leave Claire’s side when she was feeling so sick, but the afternoon waned along with the light.

I’m sorry love, but we must go or be lost in here until tomorrow. Can ye sit in my saddle and let me hold ye home?”

Jamie knew he could not pony Brimstone and hold Claire at the same time. He lifted Claire onto Brimstone and swung up behind her. He had pulled the bridle off Donus and locked his stirrups up into the saddle.

“I hope ye’ll be coming with us, friend. If not, I wish ye well and the bugger that catches ye, my condolences.” Brimstone was set into an easy lope toward home with Donus right beside her. Jamie called for Misses Crook at the porch and whistled for the men, several came running, including Rupert.

“What’s happened to the lady boss?”

“Take her Rupert, carefully, follow Misses Crook. I’ll be right there.” Jamie handed Brimstone to the men and warned them not to handle Donus. “Just open his stall door and he’ll find his way.”

Jamie ran to the cabins yelling for Cho.

Misses Crook paced outside Claire’s rooms while Jamie and Cho were with her. The door was open, but she could not stand seeing her face so white and lifeless. When she could no longer stand being away from her, she rushed in and fainted on the spot when she saw Claire. Cho’s entire kit of needles bounced from various points of Claire’s body. Neck, face, arms, and ankles. Cho walked to the older woman and pinched the skin in the middle of her forehead until she took a deep breath.

Cho blocked Misses Crook’s view and asked her to lie down until he came back to check her. Misses Crook left meekly like she had seen a ghost, or the ghost of her Mistress.

Jamie looked down and touched Claire's face, “Christ Cho, she’s burnin up!”

“This is good Jamie. Her body is boiling the offender, it is good.”

“Why her? Why couldn’t it be me?”

“A king will succumb while the beggar lives in health because the beggar is exposed and becomes stronger. Claire has not had this exposure, she is kept from the enemy of life and is weak to fight it.”

“Yer not makin a lick of sense.” Jamie could feel his anger, fear, and frustration ready to explode and raked a hand through his hair.

“You have put her life in my hands twice now. I ask you to open the window three inches and leave the house. Please, trust me.”

Jamie held her face and whispered in her ear, “I’ll be waitin for ye on the swing, lass, dinna be long.”

Jamie shot out of the house and was riding toward Ben’s place like hell’s fire was chasing him. He tied Brimstone and knocked on the door fearing he would have a heart attack if Ben did not open this instant.

The door swung open to a sight that broke Ben’s heart and he knelt next to the big man and pulled him to his feet before walking him to a sofa. A large whisky was pressed into Jamie’s hand and pushed to his mouth for two big gulps.

Jamie felt broken or broken down. He lacked the strength for a deep breath and looked at Ben like he did not know him, but then he began to speak. He explained to Ben about the note Claire found in the drawer of the nursery and the offer of the land, with the unusual stipulation that would make it binding.

“I’m very good at helping Jamie, what is it I can do?”

Jamie’s face looked terrified suddenly like he needed to escape. Ben kept his voice low and suggested things that Jamie might need. Something catastrophic had occurred for his friend to be this unraveled. Ben came to the awful conclusion that it was something to do with Claire, but Jamie’s condition was fragile, so he preceded with caution.

I’m comin back to the vineyard with you Jamie. But first, is there anything you need?”

“I need to borrow two horses so my men can travel to the city and stop Ned. We have the property! I just need to telegraph the promise, asked for in the note, and then Claire will get well, and we can go on to the abandoned estate tomorrow. It’s easy! We can do this!” Jamie jumped up and headed for the door. Ben stopped him and asked for help with the horses. Keep him busy with tasks and his mind off Claire. That much was obvious.

Jamie had the horses brushed and tacked up in ten minutes. Ben ponied his second horse and Jamie jumped on Brimstone. The men rode hard to the vineyard and Ben saw Jamie’s eyes fixed on the upstairs window. They galloped to the cabins and were surrounded by the men. Angus looked at Jamie and took a deep breath for his friend and locked eyes to give him strength.

“Whatever ye need boss.”

“Two men to ride to the city and give a message to Ned Gowen. Pick a man, not Rupert.” Jamie turned and looked at the window. He started running for the house leaving the horses and men behind.

Ben wrote a message to give to Ned and sent Angus and another man on their way. All the men had gathered around him now, looking concerned. “Those of you that pray, it’s time to ask the almighty to save the lady. Forget the prayers you learned and pray from your heart. She is no ordinary lady so think of her when you talk to God. Your prayers will have more power. I will be doing the same and showing strength to Jamie.” Ben looked at the men, “if the time should come, we will pray for Jamie.”

Jamie walked quietly into the room. Claire had no needles in her skin and was covered in wet towels to keep her body temperature down. Jamie had never been so scared in his life, ironically because of the absence of needles. Cho was dipping towels in a cold basin like he had given up healing Claire. Jamie couldn’t speak so he knelt next to her with his mouth at her ear and told her stories about the Highlands, and his family, and where they would go for adventure when he took her there. He kept talking for hours. Through another needle treatment he was not aware of. It was just him and Claire, free and wild in the Heather and hills of his home.

The men gathered on the porch and around the house, heads bent, rosaries in hand. They each had their own memory of the lady, bowing before them, face bright with happiness at the fiesta, looking after them when they were sick, calling them by name, taking their hand to say thank you, wonderful job, so glad you’re with us, so thrilled you’re staying, you may not be excused until you fill your plate again, your mother would be so proud Shawn, Kenneth, Morgan, William, Robbie. Each man heard her say his name and prayed to hear it again.

Cho removed the needles and covered Claire with fresh towels. He put a sopping corner of a towel into her mouth. Jamie looked at Cho pleadingly, “she’s too hot.” He ran for Misses Crook and the men were chased out of the room while she stripped her Mistress leaving as much skin exposed as possible and covered her with towels.

As the sun came over the horizon Jamie looked at Cho and asked the impossible question, “Is she with child?”

“No. Her womb reaches for life but is yet empty.”

“How do you know that?”

“The energy inside touches points around the body, it is the life force. If she was with child, it would flow through the womb, always, but it does not. This is her blessing, she can fight for herself and live. It won’t be long now.”

Jamie waited a long minute before asking, “long for what Cho?”

“Chinese believe in deep sickness we are given a choice, to live or to join those we love and have lost.” Cho gave a rare smile, “She will stay.”

Jamie gasped, he had no strength left to fight his tears, so they came, either by fear or by relief, they came.

Cho covered Claire in fresh towels and inserted a needle into Jamie’s hand so he would sleep. There was concern that Jamie would fall ill since he was so close to her during the fever. Cho would know in a few hours and until then he would make him rest.

Misses Crook brought a tray of food to Claire’s room and she almost cried at the lovers, locked in an embrace and sound asleep. “Mr. Cho, can I relieve ye for a bit? Ye have been tendin the Mistress all night.”

“Thank you, but I am fine.” Cho was delighted to see a tea service on the tray. It was all he needed.

Angus and Robbie made it to the city in the early morning and found Ned at his office already. They handed him the note and waited. Ned, being the astute observer, noticed the heavy melancholy in the men. “This is fantastic news gentlemen, do you agree?” They nodded. “What might be keeping you from clicking your heals and smiling?”

“The Mistress is sick Ned. We have to be goin.”

“Alright, you two get back and try not to pitch forward in sleep on the way. I will tend this business and be back at the vineyard in a few days. God speed lads.”

Ned did not say anything about the telegraph that was waiting for him from Randall senior. He announced he would be taking possession of the vineyard in the spring and asked Ned to facilitate sending Claire home to England as soon as she could travel. He did not offer to pay for her trip or support her in any way. Ned worried there would be no one to send home and quickened his steps to the telegraph office.

Misses Crook was called to Claire’s room just before noon and the lovers continued to sleep. Cho requested a shift be put on Claire and left the room. Misses Crook looked after him like he was crazy but when she touched Claire’s cheek she gasped. Her skin was cool and was gaining color as she watched. The towels were removed and Misses Crook pulled her from Jamie’s grasp wondering why he didn’t wake up. A fresh shift was on the Mistress and as Misses Crook turned to leave, she noticed the needle that bobbed in the air, stuck into Jamie’s hand. “What kind of voodoo is this then?”

Cho was back just as Misses Crook was reaching for the needle. “Thank you for your assistance Misses Crook.” Cho bowed as the older woman left the room. Cho removed the needle and touched Jamie’s face, still cool, a good sign Jamie would not get sick.

Jamie opened his eyes and looked around in confusion before remembering how sick Claire was. He pulled her to him and touched her face before looking at Cho.

“I leave now. The lady will wake.” Cho bowed and left.

Jamie pulled his wife into his arms and held her close praying his thanks to God. He couldn’t wait for her to wake on her own, so he called to her.

Claire’s bloodshot eyes fixed on her husband with a tinge of confusion, “I don’t want to fish today Jamie.”

“And why is that mo chridhe?”

“The fish are mean.” She cuddled up to her husband and was drifting off again.

“No more fishing then, the finest lassie says so.” Jamie kissed her forehead and let sleep take him as he held his heart and soul in his arms.

It would be two more days before the men saw Jamie. He took his meals with Claire, encouraging her to eat. When she slept, he did too. The men were informed that the lady was recovering and they should enjoy some time off. Angus and Robbie returned completely exhausted and hearing the good news took to their bunks for an entire day and night. There was a constant supply of fresh fish coming to Misses Crook’s kitchen because Highlanders don’t idle well. During the evening meal, Angus noticed a glum Rupert leaning against their cabin looking out at the vineyard.

“What’s eatin ye Rupert, ye foul mood is lastin more than I can handle. What say we play a game of dice and challenge the willin.” Angus poked his friend and smiled his toothless grin. Rupert walked away saying he would start his watch early.

Rupert watched the road and tried to calm himself. For days he suffered with anxiety, knowing something was wrong. Now that the lady was healing, he still felt the unrest and it took over his mind, but he didn’t know why. He was being tortured by an unseen foe and wondered if he was losing his mind.

Jamie bundled Claire up on the swing and sat next to her so they could read their love poems again, really so he could. She was the picture of health except she had not spoken again since the mean fish comment. She would talk but no sound came out. She was easy to understand without speaking because Jamie knew her so well and when she indicated he should get back to his duties he flatly refused. Jamie read the poetry and pushed the swing with his foot while his wife cuddled up to him and kissed his cheek when she loved one of the poems. The men elbowed each other and nodded toward the boss smiling. Everybody felt relief that life would go on. Except Rupert.

Jamie laid Claire in their bed and smiled at her open eyes. He turned to bathe and get ready for bed, but she held his hand and pulled him to her. He covered her with his body and kissed her softly, allowing a touch more heat with his tongue and then jumping to the floor when he felt her tongue. She followed him out of bed and removed his shirt, then pants. Taking the cloth in the water she washed him and kissed his chest, arms, and neck. Jamie stood vigilant and shook his head when she tried to lick his nipple. She did it anyway, running her hands up the back of his legs and over his magnificent ass. She walked behind him and washed his back, noticing the tight muscles that were shoring up his resolve to leave her alone. She reached around and wrapped her hands around his erection slowly moving in the rhythm he loved. He grabbed her hand and marched her to the bed, then tucked her in. He snuffed out the lamps and staggered to a chair waiting for her to fall asleep. In his sleep he felt his erection against his stomach, pulsing with need. He tried to get up but realized he was held down by an unseen force. Hands touched him, startling him. He could not see Claire between his legs, but she had all the power because he could not move. She kissed him making him shake with need. When he felt her warm soft mouth come down on him it was more than he could take. With his mighty strength, he pulled on the ties that held him until they snapped allowing him to sit up. He was suddenly awake watching his amazing wife kneeling between his legs rolling her mouth up and down his cock causing his heart to nearly explode.

“Sassenach,” he whispered. “Come, lass, to bed, let me love ye.”

He covered her naked body and kissed her deeply feeling her legs open under him and panting in his ear. He could not stop himself. His wife’s erotic act made him incapable of stopping and the image of her mouth on his cock was fueling an intense need. He entered her slowly feeling panic when her usual sounds were not heard. He looked at the arousal in her face and did his best to go slowly and not hurt her. When he kissed her core, she almost levitated and he slowly sent her to a special place to touch the face of angels. “My love.” He held her pelvis up and felt the electricity snapping at his lower back as it worked deep into his groin. His balls pulled up painfully until he could not take the pain anymore, just seconds before he shattered and growled through the most intense orgasm, he ever felt, he fell next to her, his love. Jamie panted for air while he pushed the hair off her face and pulled her close. They hardly moved the rest of the night.

The days became weeks, Claire’s voice came back, and she was well enough to help Misses Crook decorate the cabins and the house for Christmas. She placed a notice at church for young ladies to join their party on Christmas day since most families celebrated on Christmas eve. Five turkeys were roasting with drippings being caught underneath for gravy. Potatoes were added to the coals and pies of every variety had been baked by the women for days before the celebration. Radish salad, colcannon, Scottish cheese and bannocks, and other dishes from Scotland that made Jamie beam with pride at his wife.

“Ah, the lassies are here gentlemen.” All the men stood with their shiny faces and combed hair to welcome the ladies, offer food and drink, and hope for a dance. The music and dancing were a relief to overstuffed bellies and there was much laughter until the fathers started showing up and the lasses were bid goodbye. When it was just the men again, a beautiful, clear voice was heard in the dark for a rendition of silent night that brought tears to Claire’s eyes. The men were silent until the last note and then the singer went right into Deck the Halls, bringing the men with him. Jamie enjoyed every minute he wasn’t worried about Ned. He was expected weeks ago. Something must have happened.

It would be another three days before Jamie was to know Ned’s fate. Always the first one up, Jamie came around the corner of the house and almost dropped to his knees. Ned was face down in the front yard. The man was still breathing, and Jamie carried him easily to the guest room and laid him on the bed. He ran for Cho.

Ned suffered from exhaustion after losing his horse and walking for two days. The horse had reared when a skunk came out of the brush, scaring the poor beast half to death. Jamie was coming out of his skin waiting to hear if Ned was successful or not. Finally, after two days of resting Ned called Jamie to him and asked the door to be closed.

Jamie shook his head violently, “no Ned, this canna be so!”

While Jamie paced, Ned filled him in on the two telegraphs from Randall, his plan to take the vineyard, and the obvious flow of information from someone in their camp. When Jamie looked up, he had murderous eyes and left without a word. Ned realized he forgot to tell Jamie that Churassi had accepted his offer, the deed was on the way.

The next day Ben rode his horse through the vineyard and came galloping back ringing the bell for all he was worth. Men came running from everywhere, including Jamie who looked at Ben like he had lost his mind. Ben held out a rotted arm off a vine and announced the blight had infected their vines. Jamie grabbed it and shouted “impossible!” He dispatched ten men to follow Ben and check the vines the rest were sent back to digging trenches.

It was everywhere, according to the men, the entire vineyard was infected, their plans were in ruins. The doubters checked for themselves and saw the white dots at the juncture of the arms, it was true. The evening meal was a solemn affair, and the men disbanded early to sleep the terrible day away.

The shape on the road moved silently as it left the vineyard and headed for town. Body stooped, head down, he walked quickly. Jamie waited for him in the middle of the road, no longer concerned with hiding himself. He let the shadow person almost run into him before making a sound.

"Careful laddie, no reason to rush yer death, it’ll happen soon enough." There was a gasp as the stooped figure realized he was caught. He turned around to run as the highlanders were closing the circle of freedom. He was bound and gagged. Jamie asked if anyone knew him.

“I know him, he’s a cousin”

Rupert approached and kicked the man in the kidneys hard enough to drop him. Jamie was without words. He stared at Rupert like he broke his heart. “Did ye know Rupert?”

“No.”

Guilt by association is what Rupert felt and prayed that Jamie would see his innocence. Not for sparing his life but for remaining in the trust of the greatest man he had known since his father. “Who among ye doesna know Rupert as kin or friend?” The group separated and Jamie pointed to a man. “Go with them.”

The bound man would not see another day, that he knew, so he walked slowly toward town ignoring Rupert’s orders to move faster. Exasperated, Rupert pulled the man into the brush. They had hours to wait until sunup, He would use that time to find out what happened, when, and who was involved. Once the telegraph was sent, the three men walked back to the vineyard but only two arrived.

The ruse that Ben suggested two nights prior had worked to ferret out the trader. The men Jamie chose to accompany Ben were told of the plan and handed infected limbs from other vineyards. Claire and Misses Crook had mixed water with pigeon poop, dabbing the vines under the two arms that are left for the winter. They worked quickly in the predawn morning, Claire’s conscious state was attributable to her teeth chattering from the cold. They were back in front of the fire before the first cabin door opened.

It was a devastating change to what was reported to Randall senior and they knew the snitch would sneak out to telegraph an update. It worked.

Rupert sat against his cabin long after the evening meal waiting for Jamie to come and deal with him. He cared only for an acknowledgment of his innocence because he was a proud Highlander. So he waited.

“A word Rupert.” Jamie led him into the vineyard because this was no one's business but Rupert’s. “Do ye know why I held ye back from goin to the city with Angus?”

“Ye needed an overseer I imagine.”

“No. It’s because ye have a special place in yer heart for the lady. I knew you would pray harder and longer than anyone else. I know the kindness ye feel toward her would never allow ye to act against her, or me. Ye will no be judged for a blood association and I want ye to rid yerself of any guilt or doubt in my opinion of ye. Are we clear Highlander?”

“Yes boss, we’re clear.”

#outlander fanfiction outlander fanfic

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fadiingstarliight · 4 years

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Character Name: Hayley Davenport Faceclaim: Lily Collins Age: 31 Birthday: April 21st Gender/pronouns: Cis woman/she&her Occupation: Works part-time at Green Thumb ( Family owned garden store ) Sexuality: Bisexual

{ More about Hayley + her connections under the cut !! }

Bio:

( abortion tw, emotional abuse tw )

[1989] Hayley was born in Dearborn to John & Ruth Davenport on 7th September 1989. They were an older couple who had wanted a child for a long time but were unable to conceive which made Hayley their miracle baby. She was cared for and loved deeply by the parents, both kind people, who owned Green Thumb long before she were born.

[2007] Hayley never really made plans to leave the town. She was happy with the comfortable yet simple life they led, loved her family dearly and had intended to stay in Dearborn, study there and help her parents with their shop. But everything changed when she fell head over heels for Finn (npc) in her high school senior year. Somehow the young naive girl came to believe that he was the one, and her parents were supportive of her when she made the decision to follow him to college to study. It wasn’t too far, she visited very often but it was a change to what she had planned. But her parents were happy to see their girl find love and flourish, and as for Hayley, she somehow believed that she was lucky enough to find her happily ever after so early in life.

It started a few months after they started college, rumours about Finn which showed that he wasn’t as perfect as he seemed but she chose to ignore it all. She decided to trust him instead of doubting him because of silly rumours. With time passing, it became obvious what he was like but she denied it. And when the truth came to light with proof she couldn’t deny, she fought with him, but forgave him over and over again instead of putting an end to the relationship which was nothing close to the perfect love story she wanted it to be.

[May 2014] It was when she got unexpectedly pregnant a few years later did she see his true shade for the first time. He was furious with her when she said she wanted the baby, and ended up convincing her to get an abortion simply because he wasn’t ready to have a child in his life. She never told her family about that since she knew how close to heart her mother would take it, having been a woman who had prayed for years before she had a kid of her own.

[June 2014] It was a bit of a wake up call for Hayley, and she soon began to realize slowly how the life she lived was never one she had wanted for herself. It was a life which Finn wanted and she had fit herself into it. Finn on realizing that Hayley was having doubts about their relationship proposed to her on one of their visits to Dearborn after making a big deal about it to their families, which put Hayley in a tight spot, making her agree simply because she didn’t wish to upset both their families.

[Dec 2014] She did speak to him though, telling him of how she felt and only when he promised that he would be better did she go through with the wedding.

[August 2017] She got pregnant again, and this time too Finn wasn’t ready for a kid but Hayley was adamant on keeping her.

[June 2018] Heather being born was the first Hayley truly felt happiness again for a long time, and seeing as how Finn never cared for the kid or helped at all, she quit her job to be a stay at home mom which she was mocked for by her husband. It was when her daughter was a little over a year did she find out that Finn was cheating on her again, it didn’t really surprise her though.

[Apr 2020] It took her a fair few months to do what had to be done but she finally found the courage to leave him, moving back to Dearborn six months ago and filing for a divorce.

Her parents still are under the impression that Finn is a good man and she didn’t want to break it to them how awful he had always been to her and break their hearts, instead simply finding a place of her own for her and her daughter so that she didn’t have to deal with them giving her advice every other day about making up with Finn for the sake of Heather.

She is currently helping her parents with their shop and fighting Finn for sole custody of Heather, the man wanting custody of her simply to gain some control over Hayley again.

Connections:

Family: John Davenport (father, npc), Ruth Davenport (Mother, npc), Heather Davenport (Daughter aged 3, npc), Samatha Davenport & her brothers (Cousins)

Ex-husband: Finn Walker (npc)

Best friends: Atticus Mercer, Adrianna Knox, Julie Pardo

Other friends: Daniel Fernandez (baker pals)

[open] Off the top of my head I need babysitters for her daughter Heather, a lawyer helping her with the divorce & child custody, school & college friends, friends through family, other parents to have play dates with, friends who share her love for baking, colleagues and customers at Green Thumb, neighbours etc. She’s a very lovely person, very friendly and helpful, overly so. Feel free to hmu with any ideas you have to, always happy to plot!

#intro

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hayleysdavenports · 4 years

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( lily collins | 33 | cis female | she/her ) Everybody knows HAYLEY DAVENPORT from CLIFFSIDE. They have been in Eastcliff for ONE YEAR and have been working as a OWNER at ’GREEN THUMB’. They’re BENEVOLENT, FLEXIBLE, and DEDICATED, but can also be TIMID, CYNICAL, and INDECISIVE. ( OOC: tessa, 25+, she/her, gmt+5:30 )

[ Bio & connections under the cut. ]

Full name: Hayley Siera Davenport Nickname(s): Hayley, Hales and sometimes Haylo much to her displeasure. Age: 33 Birthdate: 7th Sept Sexuality: Bisexual Occupation: Owner & florist at Green Thumb Neighborhood: Cliffside

Bio:

( abortion tw, emotional abuse tw )

Hayley was born in Eastcliff to John & Ruth Davenport on 7th September 1987. They were an older couple who had wanted a child for a long time but were unable to conceive which made Hayley their miracle baby. She and her sister who followed a couple years after were both cared for and loved deeply by the parents, both kind people who owned Green Thumb long before they were born.

Hayley never really made plans to leave the town. She was happy with the comfortable yet simple life they led, loved her parents and sister dearly and had intended to stay in Eastcliff, study there and help her parents with their shop. But everything changed when she fell head over heels for Finn (npc) in her high school senior year. Somehow the young naive girl came to believe that he was the one, and her parents were supportive of her when she made the decision to follow him to college to study.

Her parents were happy to see their girl find love and flourish, and as for Hayley, she somehow believed that she was lucky enough to find her happily ever after so early in life. It started soon after they started college, rumours about Finn which showed that he wasn’t as perfect as he seemed but she chose to ignore it all. She decided to trust him instead of doubting him because of silly rumours, making the decision to move with him to Brighton, UK when he got a job there.

It was when she got unexpectedly pregnant a couple years later did she see his true shade for the first time. He was furious with her when she said she wanted the baby, and ended up convincing her to get an abortion simply because he wasn’t ready to have a child in his life. She never told her family about that since she knew how close to heart her mother would take it, having been a woman who had prayed for years before she had a kid of her own.

It was a bit of a wake up call for Hayley, and she soon began to realize slowly how the life she lived was never one she had wanted for herself. It was a life which Finn wanted and she had fit herself into it. Finn on realizing that Hayley was having doubts about their relationship proposed to her on one of their visits to Eastcliff after making a big deal about it to their families, which put Hayley in a tight spot, making her agree simply because she didn’t wish to upset both their families. She did speak to him though, telling him of how she felt and only when he promised that he would be better did she go through with the wedding.

Everything seemed fine for a while but he didn’t really change, doing everything in his power to control as much of her life as he could, something which she taught herself to get used to after a while because she didn’t see another choice. She got pregnant again, and this time too Finn wasn’t ready for a kid but Hayley was adamant on keeping her.

Heather being born was the first Hayley truly felt happiness again for a long time, and seeing as how Finn never cared for the kid or helped at all, she quit her job to be a stay at home mom which she was mocked for by her husband. It was when her daughter was a little over a year did she find out that Finn was cheating on her, and it took her a fair few months to do what had to be done but she finally found the courage to leave him, moving back to Eastcliff a year ago.

She is currently helping her parents with their shop and fighting Finn for sole custody of Heather, the man wanting custody of her simply to gain some control over Hayley again.

Connections

Family: John Davenport (father, npc), Ruth Davenport (Mother, npc), Heather Davenport (Daughter aged 3, npc), Alexandra Davenport (Sister)

Ex-husband: Finn Walker (npc)

Best friends: Atticus Mercer (childhood bff), Athena Lewis (bff from Brighton)

Friends: Orion Lewis, Chey Johnson, Iris Mason, Zane Davis

Babysitter: Avery Cohen

Acquaintances: Naeem Sayed, Nathan Bradley, Wyatt Dayton

[open] Colleagues at Green Thumb, a lawyer helping her with the divorce & child custody, school & college friends, friends through family, babysitters, other parents to have play dates with, neighbours etc. Feel free to hmu with any ideas!

#eastcliff.intro #intro #eastcliff.task #about

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fictionalnormalcy · 4 years

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Face Amidst the Smoke Ch. 6

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 1350 Characters: Astrid Hofferson, Hiccup Haddock Summary: Astrid is paired for a project with someone who she is definitely not eager to work with. Haddock has a reputation of being a bad student, just a bad role model in general. But in being forced to work with one of the worst seniors in the school, she comes to see what is under this bad boy’s exterior… and she may be getting in over her head.

Venture

I managed to get everything to fit into one bag. I was going to be travelling across town for the day so I had to ensure I wasn’t overburdened. I hadn’t a clue what the day would bring. I’d have to convince Heather to let her take my racket for the weekend so I wouldn’t be lugging it across Berk. Before I headed down to the bus stop, I ensured I had my water bottle, towel, extra hair ties, wallet, and phone charger. I wouldn’t be coming home until the evening, what with waiting for all the buses and practice. I pulled on my visor, lugged my duffle bag over my shoulder, and headed out of the house.

“Scrimmage time!” Coach Flashburn shouted.

Heather was my doubles partner. When we first started, I was a singles player and she played doubles with Cameron. But they argued constantly, and towards the end of the season our sophomore year, they got into a physical fight. Getting so feral that Cameron was dubbed Camicazi among the team, and soon it trickled throughout the whole school. For reasons unknown to us, Camicazi didn’t join the team for our final year of high school. I tried out doubles with Heather, and we wound up being a good pair. Able to work well and have each other’s backs. Sometimes the coach liked to have a tossup day to keep the girls on their toes. Pairing the singles versus the doubles.

Today, was not one of these days. Although it was something creative to play. This was the last stage of practice. Once we finished the scrimmage, we were free to go home. After the match, Heather was going to treat me to brunch. A place that we really loved called The Snow Wraith’s Lunchery. Just in the last week, she had been allowed use of her family’s car, passed down from brother to sister. She was eager to take it out for a drive. Me meanwhile, would have to wait a good couple of years until I could get my own car.

“My turn to serve.” Heather said as she twirled the racket in her hand.

For each odd set we had to switch. For the past two seasons, our method had developed where I would start us off in the serves and then Heather would finish us off. As a former singles player, there wasn’t really much of a chance to volley. So over the seasons I’d come to enjoy being able to slam a ball at someone’s feet so close to net. Our teammates yet opponents in this circumstance were predictable in their shots, and it was easy to change position so that Heather wouldn’t have to cope on her own. A shot was fired so it flew high in a lob, and for a second I swung my racket backward so I could hit it, but then abandoned the notion when I knew that there was a chance it could backfire.

I shouted for Heather to take the shot and quickly dashed to the side. I looked out of the corner of my eye to see her use a finger to find the point of impact, and then she slammed the ball down to the other side’s No Man’s Land. Point, ours. The game was already ours for the taking, but we still had to pull through for the 6 game total. As our opponent hefted the ball into the air, her knees bent and arm poised, I shifted my grip on the racket. Heather countered with a shot at the alley. The ball came straight toward my racket rather feebly. I raised my right arm, and took two steps back. This was mine.

As we climbed out of her car I was still rubbing the towel over my face. I’d already downed my entire water bottle, and there was lingering adrenaline from the match.

“I’m going to need to set a reminder to ice my shoulder tonight.” Heather hissed as she slid into a chair.

“Giving you pain again?” I frowned.

“My dad said that there had to be an inflamed nerve when he gave me a massage.”

“Yeah, just be careful the next few days. We need you for the match against the Berserkers next week.”

“Yeah I know.” Heather smirked.

After we gave our drink order, Heather loosened the hair tie holding her braid together and began to pry the strands apart. Something I noted when we’d first met way back when was that a braid was our continued choice of hairstyle. I was never one for ponytails, and she didn’t like to have her wavy hair draped over her shoulders and torso. I left my hair still tied upward, but Heather let it loose in what I could guess was to cool down from the workout we’d just had.

“You got what I asked you for?” I spun the straw in my glass.

“Yup.” Her expression grew grim. “Though Dagur and I ask the same question. Why do you feel so determined to get him to commit that you have to go to his house? He thinks you’re looking for a death sentence. I can’t believe you’d want to get this much into his private life. I mean, I’m not looking up Atali’s address behind her back.”

“You also aren’t heckling her to do her part. I have to do it, and I really doubt that Hiccup would have given it to me if I asked politely. I’m doing it, because I’m thinking that if I can at least get word to his parents they can get him to follow through.”

“But not every parent is the same. Sure your parents would do that if you were slacking off, but Haddock’s could be different.” She took a ginger sip of her macchiato. “One parent could be a drunk, or an addict. Hel they might both be workaholics who don’t give a crap if their son even goes to school. You saying you want to step into the role of parent for them?”

“I can be a great persuader.” I smiled. “How do you think I got to be captain?”

“Yeah well that determination didn’t get you to go for the student cabinet though.” Heather laughed. “I have the address for you, but Dagur made me and I have to make you promise to secrecy. If people found out you could do this we could get in some serious trouble.”

“I know that. It’s just, I got tired of waiting around. He doesn’t cling to his cell phone like most seniors and I get the feeling he doesn’t have much access to internet. I guess, my curiosity is starting to get the best of me. I want to see where he lives, see if I can gauge why he acts the way he does.”

“You can’t be thinking he’ll be okay with you popping up at his house out of nowhere.”

“He’ll have to deal with it. Cuz now that I’ll have this info. in my back pocket, he’ll know that I can find him.”

She handed over a slip of paper. “You’ll have to shred that after you have it remembered. He might ask you where you got the information though.”

“It’s a decent-sized city, I’ll say it wasn’t hard to figure out.”

“Asti, all I can ask is that you be careful as you go on your little quest today. I pray to Freya that nothing will happen to you. That’s why I think you should take your racket with you as do this.”

“I can’t be lugging that thing on the bus as I go across town. Just take care of it for me ‘til Monday.” I begged.

“Fine.” But she reached into her racket bag and dug out a small canister in a leather case. “Then take this. Pepper spray. Can’t trust a guy like Haddock.”

“Thanks for the wish of luck.”

I read the address on the little sheet of paper. Sliding out my phone so I could type it into my navigation app.

#httyd #fanfiction #face amidst the smoke #ch 6 #ao3 #astrid hofferson #hiccup haddock #heather oswaldson #modern day au

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artificialqueens · 5 years

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twenty seven club (Branjie) - PinkGrapefruit

A/N -

PLEASE READ

Hey! Like most things I write, I started this on a whim and apparently it’s okay. I heavily recommend checking the tags because it’s a little dark in places. It’s written to ‘27 club’ by adore delano and focuses on the relationship between brooke and vanjie. thanks to Q-tip for beta-ing me like the goddess she is and telling me that what I write is mostly not insane. Since I use a lot of flower metaphors there will be a dictionary at the bottom of the page and I in no way intend for this to glorify mental illness or substance abuse. other than that, remember As usual, all work is my own and although this is based on real people, both the characters and the story are my own interpretation and therefore fully fabricated. Enjoy! x

All of his dreams

Are in the fast lane scene

These habits go so fast, he can’t see

I watch you as you dance. The freedom it gives you, a drug I can never take away. The ribbons bind your legs like a bouquet, all lean orchids, pussywillow and dreams. You smell of coffee and cigarettes like I suppose all dancers do and I inhale your second-hand smoke like it fuels me. Like knowing it was once your air too gives me another reason to stay alive. In reality, it just means that your burdens are my burdens, the likelihood we will both submit to cancer exponentially higher with each lungful I take in. It will fill my windpipe with tar and make footholds of my lungs and I care too much for this shit. It will climb me like I used to climb you but as each inhale draws it into my body, it will never have the passion to finish me off.

I pray at the altars of peace and hope, for you to come down off your pedestal and face me for once. I wish that life has not crossed you the way it crossed me for I am more resilient than you. You have crumbled under the weight of your own tutu and I am here only to rebuild what I can. You are more bandaid than flesh these days. Your problems circle you like thunderclouds, rolling in and settling for a week or three as you find your footing. The grey matches the cigarettes and the carpet and your eyes. The tacky residue of the old bandages builds up like moss over time, all the same, stormcloud grey burnished and raw.

Over time the moss turns into foxglove and wormwood and something akin to the flowers my mamma used to grow in the tin cans under the kitchen window. I learn to recognise the smell of blood with the roses and how despair turns the foxglove a pale blue in the right lighting. How your ribs could grow orchards between them if you weren’t so impatient. You plant watermelon seeds between your teeth and they crunch when you bite down. The sound they make identical the sound of new pointe shoes when you would break them in on the balcony. You smoke in the rain now, claim it’s not cliche because it makes the flowers grow. I laugh something hollow and deeply unnatural. The smile you give me scares me. It is deeply unnatural.

Baby lost his mind

Nobody gives in time

The drugs are worth it

Or so it seems

I watch you in the dressing room. I am a drag husband at your gigs and I wait to see whether you need a smoke break or just my attention. It is always the former. Your nails are far enough into the soft flesh of your palms that I can see them compressing beneath the shiny black acrylic. You like this outfit because you don’t have to prune the marigolds from your spine. The way they wove through you like the grief they are supposed to show, unyielding to the weedkiller I slather on liberally every night. As you undress I watch you, their pale yellow shines like moonlight in the old LEDs and it’s beautiful. You’re beautiful. And then the main light turns on and I see what everyone else sees and I am disgusted by what I have done. The way I have allowed you to abuse what we both loved will haunt me and I am sorry. The marigolds do not shine like the moon but like a warning sign, bright and clear. Every flower that has inhabited your skeleton calls you a different name, pumps you full of feelings I was never taught about in school because they are not nice to feel. Foxglove for insecurity and wormwood for bitter absence.

I scream but you do not hear me. My vocal cords are entangled in ivy for faithfulness but we must call it what it is. It binds me to my words, keeps me imprisoned in my own body as I try to help to no avail. I watch, as if a spectator, as I fail to find the right words. You see the way I am looking at you, my eyes wet, licked with the pity I cannot speak. My tongue is bound by my fear of hurting you but seeing you like this I don’t know how that’s still a hypothetical. God, everything about you is a hypothetical. I sew your pointe shoes with thorns in the ribbon, in some fucked up part of my head I hope that it will deter you but you feel the pain like burning embers of a fire. You dance upon the coals and it’s beautiful but goddamnit Brooke. That’s not what I meant to do. This crumbling facade of perfection is about to crack wide open and you will fall like the petals of asphodel.

I hear choirs in your cries. Every sob is a new verse. Every break is the steady hum of the shower.

I’ve been trying and I’ve been buying

And I’ve been lying and I’ve been crying

And that’s how I know

Our love isn’t what it used to be, then again neither is the economy so we all have our crosses to bear. What used to be an altar to the powers of love and good food, that which used to burn bright in the temples of our bodies, sputters like a flame choked with fumes. Fumes of whatever it is you burn to keep the demons away. I couldn’t say. It smells like losing hope and if that’s too poetic for you, it smells like gasoline. Anger. Like how the tears drip down my face at the mention of you, hot and wet like acid. Like the tracks will burn into my skin like brands. Like this is the way it ends with me forever reminded of you, the way you are burned into my skin.

I pray for relief from this fiery hell you’ve built but all I see are the scars of where you tried to claw your way out. The walls mottle ash and dirt bound together by blood pacts and long forgotten promises. I am a long-forgotten promise to you. You choke down Marlboroughs just as often as you cough them back up but these petals are no blue roses, they are red dahlias. Every breath sounds like a betrayal of what we hold close, the noise of the fire louder in my ears than the lighting of your matches. I take Lobelia and put it with orange lily to make a bouquet I would never give because I am not cruel enough for that. Instead, I replace the malevolence with ambrosia and the hatred with hand-picked daisies, add babies breath and cowslip, keep the smile tacked to my face when all my muscles are pulling down. I ignore the vital notion to run in favour of watching you tear yourself apart. I ignore the urge to save myself, I’d rather save you.

All of the legends

Die at twenty-seven

They all went to heaven

All of the legends

You have long passed twenty-seven and I am glad because had you not I believe you would have fallen to the same fate. Luckily for me, you are healing. An eglantine rose among a bed of nails, all rusted and ready to impale you at any moment. We stood on the balcony at dawn, watched the sunrise as we mourned the loss of the foxglove, shuffled in the age gladiolus and gorse as the seasons changed around us. Your cigarettes no longer bloom green willow, but mayflower, rustling in the breeze. The menthol doesn’t burn my throat as I breathe it in, use my diaphragm as a trampoline to ricochet up my trachea. I bandage your wounds with azaleas, want to grow new hope in old sins, wash away the past and create new memories in the grooves of your ribs.

Some days I watch you dance. You move as though you were never stiffened by the thorn-apple that once locked your joints tight. As if you no longer carry the burden of what we did on your body, old wounds scarred over with white heather. An armour of sorts, holding you up so that you never fall the same way again. When you cough, there are no flowers. Your lungs are clear and happy and you tell me inhaling doesn’t taste like witch hazel anymore. The smile on your face is something I could look at for years. Within it, whole worlds could live and die and I’d be none the wiser.

I realise I am in love with the idea of loving you. It drips from my mouth like honey, sweet and sticky. It ensnares and encapsulates and every syllable you utter is trapped within. It feels like a warm summers day but smells like rat poison and I bite back the feeling of falling because I know that when I do it will hurt. Instead, I worship your body like a temple. We rebuild it from the ground up, new foundations to new roofing. The slate is clean and untouched. We wipe the blood from the walls, replace old brick with stone. A symbol of strength and unity. The only thing that grows is honeysuckle. Neither of us has it in us to worry.

All of the legends

Since I was eleven

All went to heaven

All of the legends

It’s been months. We lay in a field of sunflowers, the stalks high above our heads. My head is on your chest as we look at the clouds. I know if I felt around I could find the faint scars of wormwood by your hip, overflowing through the pale skin. I don’t dare check. Instead, we lay there calmly, relaxing in each other company. We laugh at the clouds and when the sun gets too hot, we sit beneath a peach tree and feed each other. I watch as the sweet juice, drips down your chin and as I laugh I feel the whispers of aloe catch in my throat. I cough it down and wipe the juice with the pad of my thumb, lingering for a second. We kiss and it burns in my stomach, reigniting the fire that you dampened back when you smoked something heavier and washed it down with whiskey.

When the night gets dark, I walk you home - to our home. We kiss on the doorstep like teens and I laugh as you cannot unlock the door. When I wake up the next morning, the room smells of sex and heliotrope. I ask if we can lay there forever, you just kiss my forehead and pull me closer. I bask in the warmth of your body, allow sleep to wash over me like waves, lapping at the shore. You bury your head in my hair and tell me that I smell like Pomegranate. It is only later that I remember my shampoo is apple.

I’ve been trying and I’ve been buying

And I’ve been lying and I’ve been crying

The flowers come back. You cough up hibiscus as 3 am, the blood spattering the tiles of the bathroom and you wash the taste away with a Marlborough. ‘For old time sake,’ you tell me as if I don’t know what you’re doing. The marshmallow pink mixes with the red to create an unpleasant blush shade that mirrors your chest as you take deep drags. When you stub it out you make vague promises of not doing it again. I call your bluff and you laugh and tell me to ‘come here baby’. When I comply, we kiss and you taste like almonds and lost causes.

For a moment I could have sworn we were okay.

And that’s how I know

A single rainflower left at my doorstep. A quiet kiss on the cheek and you were gone.

That I don’t wanna go

Flower Dictionary:

Aloe - grief Ambrosia - reciprocated love Azalea - fragile, gratitude, take care Babies breath -innocence, purity Blue Rose - i love you but i can’t have you Cowslip - winning grace Daisies - innocence Eglantine Rose - a wound to heal Foxglove - insecurity Green Willow - false love Gladiolus - strength of character, honour, conviction Gorse - love in all seasons Heliotrope - devotion Hibiscus - delicate beauty Honeysuckle - bonds of love Ivy - faithfulness Lobelia - malevolence Marigold - pain and grief Orange Lily - hatred Orchid - refined beauty Peach - immortality Pomegranate - hell/ the underworld Pussy Willow - goodwill Rainflower - i love you back, i must atone for my sins, i will never forget you Red Dahlia - betrayal and dishonesty Sunflower - loyalty, longevity White Heather - protection

#rpdr fanfiction #branjie #brooke lynn hytes #vanessa vanjie mateo #angst #kinda almost hanahaki #pinkgrapefruit #tw mentions of substance abuse #tw implied drug use #tw implied depression #tw self harm #tw implied toxic relationship #concrit welcome #submission

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waste-the-nite · 5 years

Text

Friends don’t // Ben Hardy

Basically it’s different occasions based off the song “friends don’t” by Maddie and tae.

Disclaimer : um this is my first story and it kinda sucks so yeahh but I had fun writing it, so whoever reads this I hope you enjoy!

********

Friends don't call you in the middle of the night

Couldn't even tell you why

They just felt like saying "hi"

I groaned as my phone vibrated on my side table next to my bed. Cracking my eyes opened I looked at the clock on the table, 3:27am. I debated on just ignoring the call, but thought it could be an emergency about my family or one of my friends. I reached over and grabbed my phone, seeing the name “Ben” on the screen. I put the phone to my ear after I swiped and answer the call.

“Ben is everything okay ?” I asked, sitting up just in case I needed to leave right away.

“Hey (y/n), everything’s fine” He said, “shit sorry I totally forgot about the time zones”

I sighed because he woke me up at 3am, but relaxed because he was okay. It made me a bit sad remembering he was still in America. He has been there for almost four months and wasn’t sure when he’d be coming back. Since it is 3am where I was, that means it was 8am where he was.

“Seriously Ben” I groaned, letting out a heavy breath of air, “It’s fine, I’ve been wanting to talk to you anyways, guess now is a good time”

“I’m really sorry, I totally spaced on the whole time zone thing, I’ve just missed you these last few days and just wanted to say “hi”, so hi.” He explain, letting out a little laugh at the end.

I smiled slightly at the thought of him missing me, “I missed you too, it’s been horrible not talking to you lately”

“Well since we both have been miserable without each other, tell me how’ve you been.”

We ended up talking for longer than I expected. We talked about my job and school, about what he’s been doing out in LA and New York and other random stuff. By the time we were getting ready to hang up it was 7am and I was very tired.

“Okay Benny, I gotta go and get some more sleep before my class later. I’m really happy we got a chance to talk” I mumbled into the phone.

“Alright love, thanks for keeping me company, I’ll see you soon” He replied.

“Promise ?”

“Promise, love you”

“Love you too Ben” I said, before hanging up.

I couldn’t stop the smile that made its way to my face before I fell asleep. I was so happy I got the chance to catch up with him, and maybe I slept through my alarm for class but i definitely don’t regret it.

********

They don't almost say "I love you"

When they're downtown somewhere, just a little drunk

They don't talk about the future and put each other in it

There was music playing from the band that was on stage, drinks in our hands, and smiles on our faces. Ben and I decided to go out to party, a bar somewhere downtown. It was a bit crowded but not to the point where there was no room to breath.

Multiple girls had come up to Ben, flirting and offering to buy him a drink. To which he respectfully declined. I was confused as to why, he usually goes off with someone by the end of the night. There were some good looking guys here but none of them are what I’m looking for.

Ben and I had been talking about anything and everything. People probably thought it was weird that we came here and talked instead of hooking up with someone. But honestly I’d rather just sit and talk with Ben.

“So in ten years, where do you see yourself?” Ben had asked, taking a sip from his beer.

I hummed thinking about where I did see myself ten years from now, “Well hopefully, I’ll be an teacher by then, married with kids and a cute dog” I replied with a smile, “How about you ?”

“I hope I’ll still be acting, maybe I’ll have a few big successful movies under my belt” He said, he had this hopeful and wishing look on his face , “I think I’d wanna be married by then, a kid or two, of course we’d still be doing our breakfast dates every Tuesday.”

I smiled at that, “You see me in your future ?” I asked, kind of surprised.

“Of course! You’re one of my best friends who knows where I’d be without you” He laughed, “Besides who would force me to watch ‘the bachelorette’ with them every other movie night”

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t stop the redness that came to my face. I always imagined us being friends for a really long time but I didn’t know he did too. He was watching the band up front, giving me a chance to look at him. His hair was kind of flat pressed against his face due to the heat and closeness of people in here. His eyes bright as he looked around at people. Honestly beautiful he was.

He looked at me and smiled, “God I-”, ‘i love you’ looking down and letting out a breath, “I need another drink, how about you ?”

“Yeah I could use another one” He said, looking back into the crowd, “I’ll be right back, order me another drink, yeah ?”

Before I could say anything he was out of his seat and making his way across the room. Stopping in front a pretty red-head, smiling at her leaning in close to talk over the music. I let out a sigh, looking away and ordering another drink.

********

I keep telling myself this might be nothing

But one look in your eyes and, God, there's something

I wiped my hands on the back of my jeans, my nerves were getting the best of me. I shouldn’t even be nervous, it’s just a party at Gwilym’s, I go to them all the time. But this time is different. It’s different because now I know how I really feel about Ben.

Over the last few months I’ve really been thinking about my friendship with Ben. I realized how different my feelings for him are compared to my feeling for my other guy friends. When I think about Ben I get this weird feeling, something I never felt before. Being around him as been difficult, I just wanna lean over a kiss him.

Sometimes, when it’s just Ben and I hanging out, joking around and stuff, he’ll get this look in his eyes. It’s like all the happiness in the world is in his eyes. But I blink for a quick second and then it’s gone. Maybe I was just imagining it, I’m praying I wasn’t.

I let out a heavy breath trying to gather myself, turned off my car and got out. If I don’t go inside now I probably never would. Walking up to the door i almost turned back to my car a couple of times but before I could the door was thrown open and joe was stand there.

“(y/n)! You’re finally here, about time” He pulled me into a hug before leading me into the house.

There were people all over the place, some of them I knew, others I didn’t. I smiled at a few people as Joe continued to pull me through the room and into the kitchen.

“Look who I found!” Joe called out.

“(y/n) hey it’s great to see you, I’m happy you could make it” Gwilym smiled and gave me a small side hug.

“Yeah me too, thanks for inviting me” I replied.

I hadn’t seen Ben yet, maybe i wouldn’t even run into him. I could easily avoid him, just stay on the opposite side of the house. Gwilym handed me a drink, asking how I’ve been and what I’ve been up to. It was nice, talking to them again, I feel like i haven’t seen there in forever.

I guess the whole avoidin Ben thing is easier said than done. I was on my third drink when he walked into the kitchen, a girl holding onto his arm. I’ve never seen her before, I’m guessing he just met her at the party. I glanced into the other room, wondering if I could get away before he saw me. I obviously didn’t move fast enough because a second later he was walking over to me.

“Hey (y/n)” He smiles and hugged me, “haven’t seen you in forever”

“Yeah sorry I’ve been busy with work” I replied, but in reality, I’ve been canceling our plans.

/////

Ben introduced me to his friend, heather, she was nice. Which made it kind of hard to not like her. We were all sitting around in the living room talking. Unfortunately I was next to Ben, our legs pressing together.

Everyone was chatting with one another, I could feel Ben staring at me, I tried to ignore it but eventually I turned to look at him. We didn’t say anything for a while, just sitting there staring at each other’s face. I wondered if anyone noticed, but I didn’t look away to check.

I wanted to reach up and run my fingers through his hair, lean over and kiss him, really anything that gave me physically contact with him. I’m not sure how long we sat there staring into each other’s eyes, but he looked like he wanted to say something to me. As soon as he opened his mouth Heather called his name. He blinked slowly before turning to her. I didn’t move my eyes from his face.

I wasn’t listening to what they were saying but the next thing I know they’re both standing up, saying goodbye to us and walking out the room. Before they completely left the room, Ben turned and look back at me, giving a small smile. I closed my eyes, wishing that he was still sitting next to me.

Let’s just say I spent the rest of that night drinking and hoping that one day, Ben saw me the way I see him.

#ben hardy #fluff #cute #fanfic #imagine #borap boys #borap #ben hardy fanfic #ben hardy imagine #joe mazzello #gwilym lee #rami malek #bohemian rhapsody #bohemian rapsody movie #one shot #realization #love

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quarterfromcanon · 5 years

Text

Habits

Heather & Valencia - Femslash February - Day 25 - Pet Name [3,599 words]

“Wanna get high and help me name my starfish?”

Valencia lifted her eyebrows. The sight of Heather on the doorstep toting an aquarium and a backpack full of recreational materials was not what she’d expected to find outside her apartment that night. However, after the recent decrease in communication between them, the surprise was far from unwelcome. “Hello to you, too.” She stepped aside to allow her friend to pass.

Heather carefully set her new sea creature atop the kitchen counter, under the cabinets. She gauged the distance from there to the living room and nodded to herself. “She’ll be safe here,” Heather elucidated upon noticing Valencia’s quizzical response.

“I should preface by saying I don’t smoke pot. Or anything else, for that matter.” Valencia returned to the couch. She turned off the TV and tossed aside several throw pillows to make room for a second occupant.

Her unexpected guest took the vacant spot and put her book bag on the floor. “I can teach you,” Heather volunteered as she withdrew the supplies from their hiding places.

Valencia glanced at her stack of rented DVDs beside an empty takeout box. Meanwhile, Heather rummaged through unseen contents and grumbled about the stash slipping all the way to the bottom. Valencia watched her for a moment - hair falling over her cheek, biceps still bearing indents from the heavy fish tank, a faint trace of spilled water across her shirt - and reached a conclusion. She rearranged the clutter on her coffee table. “All right. I wasn’t really doing anything tonight anyway.”

“That’s the spirit,” Heather remarked dryly. She produced a purple lighter, papers, cardboard, glue, and the sought-after Ziploc bag. “Before we get started, do you have cucumbers?”

Valencia blanched. “One, I think. Why?”

“It’s good for the dry mouth effect,” Heather explained. “That and water. But we need to prep ahead of time because you do not wanna be wielding a sharp knife when you’re on this stuff.”

“Got it. I’ll take care of those and you can finish setting up here.” Valencia departed for the kitchen, feeling strangely observed by the starfish in the corner. She sliced enough cucumber to cover a plate and put the rest of the produce back in her fridge. Once a water bottle was tucked under each arm, she shuffled to the living room with the dish balanced on her palm. Valencia positioned one drink on each end of the table. She set the plate in the center.

Heather held a finished product and the lighter in her hands. She sparked a small flame, touched the fire to the end of the paper, and twiddled the joint in circles between her thumb and forefinger. Heather talked Valencia through the breathing counts by likening it to yoga. Then she detailed the best inhalation technique for drawing the hit into her lungs.

Valencia worked to commit the advice to memory despite mounting uncertainty. She gave Heather’s demonstration full attention and tried to duplicate it once the second toke was offered to her. The sputtering aftermath seemed unavoidable, but it could’ve been worse without the tutorial.

“Why do you have a starfish?” Valencia asked once the cough subsided.

“Marine Biology. She’s basically the biggest part of my grade for the next three months.”

“Important starfish.” Valencia flexed her fingers. Her brow furrowed at the subtle numbness in her extremities.

“Yeah. We get to refer to them by name in our reports, so I’m trying to figure out something that’s, like, academically serious but still reflects her personality.” Heather contemplated the tank from a distance. “Oh, right, I almost forgot.” She fumbled with a different compartment of her bag and tossed Valencia a hefty paperback.

Valencia missed the catch. The purchase whacked the corner of the couch, causing it to ricochet into her lap. “What’s this?”

“I thought it might give us a place to start.” Heather twisted the cap off her water and chugged.

Valencia held the book away from her face. Her eyes went slightly crossed at the number emblazoned across the front. “One million... No, wait, damn it. Not that many zeroes. One hundred thousand baby names? Holy crap! Heather, I don’t think people consider this many options for their human children.”

“They do according to the store where I bought our mid-high munchies.”

Valencia tried to whistle but couldn’t accomplish the sound. She gave up the effort and shook her head instead. “We’re going to be here a while.”

Heather plucked up two slices of cucumber. She pressed one against Valencia’s palm. “We’ve got time.”

Valencia followed the unspoken command and sampled the serving. She grabbed Heather’s wrist. “This tastes like rain.”

Heather snorted. “What?”

“Try it.”

Heather complied and her eyes widened. “It does.”

They consumed a few more before Valencia’s elbow bumped the book and she remembered their intended task. “Oh shoot. We were supposed to be finding a name for your little buddy.” Her forehead creased as she attempted to concentrate. “What kind of name?”

“Maybe we could start with real stars?”

“The celebrity kind or wish-upon-a?”

Heather cackled but held up two fingers. “That one.” She leaned against the pile of throw pillows. “Polaris. Vega. Mira.”

“The Sun,” Valencia added tentatively.

“Also true.”

“How about the word for star in other languages?”

“What would that be in Spanish?”

“Estrella.”

Heather leaned forward until she could see her starfish in the water. “Estrella,” she repeated, dragging out the final vowel. “I kinda dig that.”

“We have a keeper?”

“I think so.”

Valencia pouted at the tome under her hand, still unopened. “Well, that was easy.” She chucked it away. The thunk of impact when the book slid to the bathroom door made them giggle.

They readjusted on the couch until they were angled toward one another, legs overlapped at the ankle.

“You know, before you showed up tonight, I kind of wondered if maybe you were mad at me,” Valencia admitted.

Heather reached for the joint where it rested at the edge of their shared plate. “Why would I be upset with you?”

Valencia frowned. “I don’t know. We haven’t been hanging out lately, and I guess I got worried. I haven’t seen you since Rebecca and I came back from investigating Anna.”

“Things got kinda busy after that.” Heather exhaled slowly. “Speaking of getting busy, how was that barfly rando you left with? Rebecca was all pouty you turned her down for Friday Night Lights to get laid. Because, y’know, priorities.”

“We didn’t really do anything.”

“He passed out before things got to that point? The guy was pretty far gone already.”

“No, he was conscious when I saw him last.” Valencia sighed and lolled her head to the side. “I panicked and ditched him in the parking lot.”

Heather traced the design on the nearest pillow. Her head bobbed almost imperceptibly with every rise and fall of the stitching, as if she were experiencing each crest and valley like a winding road. “Why’s that?”

“I didn’t know how to go through it.” Heather gave her a dubious look and they both laughed. Valencia rolled her eyes. “Well, okay, I knew how, but I’ve never had a one-night stand in my life. He was all over me under the lamppost and it was like I was out of my body thinking, ‘What am I going to do? Invite this not-so-sexy stranger back to my place and pray he’s not a murderer?’ I don’t even remember what excuse I made. I just bolted and shouted something over my shoulder. Locked my car doors and sped off.”

Heather stifled a snicker with a fist against her mouth. “Wow. That was a next level hard pass.”

Valencia hid behind her fingers, wincing. “I know. I feel bad but, at the same time, I don’t regret it.” She lowered her arms and twitched her shoulders. “So Josh has some hot new girlfriend and I’m still single. Who gives a shit? Let her put up with the sports clutter all over the house and his annoying nostalgia for his mom’s Bagel Bites.” Valencia paused with a wistful expression. “Oh, but those do sound good right now.”

Heather plunged a hand into her backpack and produced a recognizable red box with a yellow label.

Valencia’s jaw dropped. “You’re a genius.”

They went to the stove and arranged the treats on a pan. Valencia set the oven to preheat then hopped onto the counter with her legs dangling over the ledge. Heather visited her pet. “Hey, Estrella, how’re you doing over here? V, check it out. I think she kinda moved a little. She answered when I called her.”

Valencia beamed and tapped her shoes against the lower level cabinets. “I’m glad she likes it.”

“Since you picked the name, it feels like that makes you an honorary part of this.” Heather slid her fingertips across the cool glass. “Like a godmother or something.”

“Except we didn’t have to immerse her in water for the christening. She’s already there.”

“Maybe, for ocean life, you’re supposed to lift them to the sky? Sorta like Simba.”

“I’m not reaching in there.” Valencia shook her head emphatically until dizziness made her stop. “Let’s just pretend we did.”

“It’s the thought that counts.” Heather bent low to drape her arms along the counter in front of the tank. She folded both hands beneath her face and stared at the grains of sand.

Valencia studied Heather with heightened sensory detail. The soft, even sound of her breath reached Valencia’s ears as if there were only centimeters between them. She became convinced it might be possible to count Heather’s eyelashes from afar. Everything was so bold and focused when she looked closely -- the small mole visible beyond the opening in Heather’s deep-cut tank top and another on her neck, the subtle indentation in her chin, the slope of her nose, the piercing through her perfectly sculpted eyebrow, and the way the light bounced off the water to dance across her skin.

“God, you’re beautiful,” Valencia mumbled.

Heather turned to her with a smile. “And you’re high as fuck.”

Valencia considered the current perch she occupied and gulped. Her muddled thoughts latched onto a more literal interpretation of the word ‘high.’ She became suddenly anxious. “I don’t know if I can get down from here.”

Heather moved to stand before Valencia. She braced her knees and extended her arms. “On three?”

Valencia jumped off without warning. Heather yelped when Valencia’s feet landed on hers, but she steadied her companion with a firm grip regardless. “I didn’t count,” she croaked.

“Sorry.” Valencia pulled away slightly to look into Heather’s eyes, but not far enough to break the hold.

Beep.

Heather dropped both hands to her sides. “Oven’s ready.”

Valencia blinked and nodded. She slid the pan onto the metal rack and closed the door. Then she settled cross-legged on the laminate to stare through the foggy glass at their food.

Heather laughed. “Dude, you’ve gotta set the timer first.” She punched in the appropriate number of minutes and offered to help Valencia rise from the floor. “C’mon, let’s wait in the living room.”

Valencia accepted Heather’s assistance but felt a strange pang when her friend’s fingers released hers once more.

They flopped on the couch. Heather flailed as the stacked throw pillows came tumbling down over her head. “Your furniture is attacking me.”

Valencia guffawed but angled forward to rescue Heather from the onslaught. They batted half the square cushions in various directions until only the ones supporting Heather’s spine remained. Valencia took in the mess and her lower lip protruded. “Wait, I didn’t leave any for me to lean on.”

Heather shifted to the left and patted the empty space beside her. “Just share mine. This thing is like a gigantic bench. We can both fit next to each other.”

Valencia snuggled into place. “Okay.” She rested on her side and hummed contentedly. Her arm wound across Heather’s middle. “You’re so warm. The last person who was on this couch with me was Josh.” Valencia stuck out her tongue. “I’m so much happier with my girl. You and Rebecca are way better company.”

Heather tensed. The bridge of her nose scrunched and her eyelids clamped shut. “V, I have something I’ve got to tell you. But I think you should take another hit first.”

Valencia made a grabby gesture in the air. Heather responded to the silent request and fetched the joint for her. Valencia took a drag with remarkably improved technique and only minor throat clearing. She passed it back to Heather, who indulged in another toke before freeing her hands again. “So, what did you want to say?” Valencia prompted.

Heather grimaced. “Okay, so, you know Anna?”

Valencia’s mouth turned down at one corner. “Unfortunately. What about her?”

“She’s gone.”

“She died?”

“No, no.” Heather waved the misunderstanding aside. “She broke up with him.”

“Oh.” Valencia’s eyebrows rose. “So Josh will finally have to figure out how to be on his own. It’s about damn time.”

Heather took a deep breath. “Not quite.”

“He’s already with someone new? That is so typical.” Valencia scoffed and folded her arms.

Heather met her gaze. Her features were etched with sympathy. “Valencia, it isn’t someone new.”

Valencia struggled to comprehend what that meant. She had to speak the thought process aloud just to make sense of it. “Somebody old? An ex. But Josh only has two of those and he’s not with me so...” The realization washed over her with painful understanding. “Rebecca?”

Heather inclined her head in confirmation.

“But we connected,” Valencia protested feebly. “We refreshed. We healed.”

“I know.”

Valencia pushed her fingertips against her temples. The truth kept slipping in and out of her grasp, a devastating déjà vu she instinctively fought to reject. “When?”

“I don’t know exactly.” Heather sank deeper into the couch. “Rebecca was staying with Paula right after she kicked Scott out, and I got this text about Josh going over there to find her.”

“He ran right from one woman to another. Again.” Valencia’s lip curled.

“That’s what I tried to tell her when I texted back.” Heather tugged off her beanie and clenched it in her fist. “But you know how that goes. You try to stop Rebecca doing a thing and she doubles down. They’ve started going out in public and I didn’t want you to see without knowing ahead of time...” Heather draped her palm over Valencia’s left wrist. “I’m so sorry, V.”

It took additional effort due to her dulled sense of touch, but Valencia found Heather’s hand with her right and clasped. “You don’t need to apologize for anything. No one else showed up at my door to be honest, but you’re here.”

Heather studied the place where their skin met in silence, but there was still intense guilt and regret behind her eyes.

Valencia let her forehead fall against Heather’s arm. She felt Heather’s chin rest near her scalp. “I’m really lucky to have you,” Valencia murmured.

“Same here.”

Beep.

Heather’s laugh escaped on a tremulous exhale. “Oh, shit. The bagels.”

Valencia returned to the kitchen. Heather moved from the couch to the chair where she could monitor snack-related proceedings. Valencia opened the oven and squinted as heat spilled from the interior.

“Don’t forget you need those glove thingies,” Heather cautioned.

“Good call.” Valencia pulled the handle of a nearby drawer and found her floral pair of oven mitts. She moved the tray over the burners then leaned her hip against the counter while she waited for everything to cool. “Heather, what am I going to do?”

“... Eat the Bagel Bites?”

“No. I mean, yes, I am, because they look and smell like a dream. But the Rebecca and Josh thing.” Valencia wrapped her arms around her stomach. “I’ve only got enough room in my head for one thought at a time -- like how I’m pretty sure I can hear the cheese sliding down that far left bagel right now -- but tomorrow’s going to be different. I can’t stay high indefinitely to avoid this.”

Heather nodded. “I think you’ve gotta let yourself feel your feelings. If you wake up sad, have a good cry. If you wake up pissed, go kickboxing or something and let all that aggression out. They’re gonna want your forgiveness, but you don’t have to give that to them until you’re ready. They need to respect your emotional right to cope in whatever way works best. Both of them hurt you, and they don’t get to dictate the self-care required to recover from that.” She looked down at where she was sitting and smiled. “I’m like textbook armchair psychologist right now, literally and figuratively.”

Valencia’s lips twitched. She dissolved into a fit of giggles.

Heather tilted her head to the side and her eyebrows quirked. “Okay. That is a feeling. Not any of the ones I was expecting, but like, do your thing.”

“It’s not that,” Valencia clarified as she gasped for oxygen. “I just realized something.”

“What?”

“Heather Davis. HD. Your initials are the same as High Definition.” The amusement overtook her again. Valencia whimpered at the resultant sting behind her rib cage. She ran her wrist under both eyelids while Heather chuckled appreciatively. “I’m sorry; the weed is just making that weirdly funny to me for some reason. But I think I have your new contact name for my phone.”

“It’s perfect. Go for it.”

Valencia tried to access her back pocket and ended up patting her jeans in confusion. “Wait, I can’t find it.”

“That’s because you’ve still got your Minnie Mouse hands on.”

“My...?” Valencia held out her arms and realized she still wore her patterned oven mitts. “Oh! Crap. Hang on, how do I take this one off when my fingers are stuck in the other one?”

Heather wheezed. “Don’t worry. I’ll come help you, you confused cartoon character.”

She walked over to catch hold of the troublesome material. “Pull.”

Valencia wrenched her hands free and gave an excited shout. “Yay, they’re back!”

Heather patted Valencia’s shoulder. “I think they were there the whole time.”

“Probably.” Valencia gasped, making Heather jump. “Hey, do you know where we should eat these bagels? Under the dining room table.”

Heather’s eyebrows drew closer together. “Don’t people usually put their food on top of the table?”

“Doesn’t matter. This will be better. Trust me.” Valencia wandered off with the pan in both hands.

Heather stood still for a minute while she tried to trace the logic behind the suggestion. Ultimately, she shrugged and followed Valencia’s lead. She passed through the living room, grabbed the two water bottles along the way, and sidestepped the Venetian screen. Valencia was already there, dragging two living room pillows and a thin blanket alongside her as she crawled out of sight.

“It’ll be like a fort,” Valencia reasoned. “Just us against the rest of the world. Only you, me, and modified food starch allowed.”

Heather shook her head affectionately. “Stoned you is basically a junk food craving third grader. I love it.”

Valencia’s face poked into view. “If you’re cootie-free and you know the password, you can join me.”

“Is the password ‘pizza,’ by any chance?”

“Duh. Get down here before I polish them all off myself.”

Heather ducked past the surrounding chairs, back bent to keep her head from bashing against the table. “You’re right; this is so much more comfortable.”

Valencia put a Bagel Bite against Heather’s lips. “Why be full of sarcasm when you can be full of mozzarella?”

“You have a point.” Heather caught the bagel between her teeth and groaned.

“Good, huh?”

Heather popped the remainder into her mouth and held two thumbs up. “Best three dollars and ninety-seven cents I’ve ever spent.” She tossed Valencia a water bottle and they drank.

Conversation fell by the wayside as they ate across the rows of mini pizzas. By the time they got down to the last few, they were both stretched out on their sides with one elbow propped against their respective pillows. Valencia finished her final bagel and shifted to a reclined position. “This table fort might have to double as a cave. I think I could hibernate from now to spring.”

Heather stowed the empty pan atop a chair, clearing the path for them to get more comfortable. “Sign me the fuck up. Home Base and Miss Douche can figure out how to get by without me until, like, at least mid-March.” She hugged the throw pillow and settled on her stomach. Valencia fanned the blanket over their legs. “So it’s cool if I crash here?” Heather checked, eyelids fluttering closed despite her best efforts to prevent them from doing so.

“Of course.” Valencia got situated with one hand flung above her head. Her natural sleeping position accidentally brought their arms into contact again. She debated moving a few inches to allow more room between them for sleep. However, since Heather didn’t seem to mind their proximity and Valencia found the nearness comforting, she let it go.

A few minutes ticked by without a single noise, save for their relaxed breathing. Valencia was on the brink of dozing, but she licked her lips and tried to express one last sentiment. It traveled through the stillness in a whisper. “Heather?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you for trying to protect me.”

Heather drowsily rolled to the side, bumping against Valencia in a slow motion body-check before returning to her spot. “No problem. Everyone needs someone in their corner, right? You can count on me.”

#H+V FF #CEG Writing by Me #Helencia #Heather x Valencia #I let these two enjoy substance intake and they invariably shift back and forth #between intense heart-to-hearts and stumbling around being spaced-out goobers #but I wouldn't have it any other way.#:P #Also asdfghkjl;#My laptop went on the fritz for days after writing this and my phone wouldn't save edits #but at least I've got access to this one for now so I can finally post!#So here is an installment in which I deliberately went super literal with the interpretation instead of the term of endearment variety #basically because 1) This time period in canon has been on my mind a lot and 2) This scene was already planned but had yet to be written #plus it gave me a handy excuse to feature a headcanon that Valencia played a part in naming Estrella so #win/win all around. < 3

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arielleyoga-blog1 · 5 years

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Positivity

When I first decided I wanted to write a blog, I asked my instagram buddies what topic’s they’d like to hear about. And one that I got more than once was “How are you always so positive?”

Which was surprising to read more than once, as well as flattering. One of my friends, who I think is the bubbliest sweetest angel on earth specifically said “Even when you’re having a hard day or going through a tough time you’re so positive and joyful. How?!”

And it got me thinking...am I actually that positive of a person? And if so, just like they asked...how? I think the first part has to do with my natural disposition: I have always been a super sweet kid. I always cared about other people, and animals (animals more duh), and have ever since I was little really seen the good in everyone and wanted the best. That’s definitely just part of who I am, I think. However, it’s not all of who I am.

I mentioned in my last blog that I suffered from clinical depression in college. Before that, when I was young I had some body image issues and eating issues. I’ve always had issues feeling confident: in fact, this blog is really REALLY hard and scary for me. I just don’t feel like anyone cares. My mind instantly goes to “Why would anyone care? Who am I? I’m not special.” While it’s natural for me to see the good in others, it is also natural for me to see the not-good in myself. So the jump from that to depression took one thing: the death of my friend Scott Preston.

Scott and I met freshman year in high school and we just clicked. We were definitely an odd pair of friends, but I saw the good in him and loved him very much. He ended up leaving our school, but we stayed in touch and I’d go hang out with him sometimes at lunch or after school on the days I had my mom’s car.

Scott smoked pot a lot: but so did a lot of my friends. I didn’t...yet. So it wasn’t a big deal or alarm for me. Scott also, like me, got migraines. So, one day when we were hanging out after I had surgery on my hand, he asked for my extra vicodin. Again, being the sweet-seeing the best in people-young girl that I was, I didn’t even think about it. Plus he said it was for his migraines. I gave him the vicodin.

A week later, his dad came in and yelled at him about his grandmother’s medication being missing. After his dad walked out, he admitted he was taking her meds from her. All I could muster up was “Scott, you shouldn’t do that. You should be careful.” And about a month later, he crashed his Dodge Ram into a tree almost killing himself and his friend. He went into rehab and I just kept waiting to call. Feeling responsible somehow. My feelings of guilt for not saying more kept me from calling. And my need to be liked and not upset people is what kept me from saying more that afternoon when I had the chance.

I talked about him to my new college friends, and really was planning on calling him soon. And then, I got a phone call that Scott was dead. And I took it all on as my fault. I became incredibly depressed and was in danger of seriously hurting myself. I got help, saw a therapist who sent me to a psychiatrist and got put on medication. Then more medication. Which made me numb. But not depressed. When I smoked pot it brought me up enough that I was my old self. But I didn’t want to be taking antidepressants and smoking pot to feel normal. So, I made the decision when I ran out of meds to just not renew my prescription knowing that the chances of my depression coming back was pretty much 100%.

And guess what? I was right, I relapsed. And something else happened in my life that was pretty terrible. But I remember that when that second event occurred I said “Losing Scott took me to a dark place, and I will not give this other person the honor to mean as much to me as Scott did and pull me back. I’ll get through this.” I talked A LOT about my feelings. I journaled. I did yoga. And I let myself cry when I wanted to. Eventually, I came up for air. I personally give yoga all the credit: But I think my willpower had a lot to do with it too.

Ever since then, it truly has been a “It’s not worth it to go back there” mentality to me. I know what it’s like to want to end it, I know what it’s like to hurt yourself, I know what it’s like to live in this dark cloud where you feel nothing but sad and empty. And life is too short to live that way.

So how do I stay positive? Well, I constantly focus on the things I HAVE!

We live in a culture that thrives off of us being in a “lack” mentality. Like sheep. “I don’t have time” is usually the thought when we wake up. I don’t have energy, I don’t have enough money, I’m not skinny enough...when I make this much money or have this phone or this car...blah blah bullshit. YOU HAVE SO MUCH.

I always focus on the gifts of my life: which truly are plentiful. I’m healthy. I have use of my limbs. I can breathe without machines. I live in a country that for the most part allows me as a woman to LIVE (right now some horrible stuff is happening in the South and Midwest) but: I was able to get an education. I went to the top public college in the country UCLA, thanks to loans that I’m still paying off, grants, and work study. I work hard and I am grateful I get to work. I get to vote. I can wear whatever I want. I have a strong amazing mom that supports me even when she doesn’t agree with me. My list goes on!

And when things have gotten bad: like when my mom was diagnosed with lung cancer and my whole world came crumbling down, I found a way through. I cried, I was scared. I journaled and I prayed and I thanked God for finding it early and for giving us the opportunity to get her healthy. I focused not on my fear or her cancer, but on her recovery even before we knew if that was a thing. I was thankful I had friends that I could call when she told me so they could rally around me for support. That bought groceries and meals for us, that helped ME get through it: because as an only child of a single parent it was a lot to handle. It’s a lot to handle no matter what: it’s cancer. I was thankful that I had the ability to work through my fear and sadness at my job. Teaching yoga helped me, and even more so being able to talk with my students about it: in fact, one class two of my student’s asked me straight up what was going on: Mellisa and Heather. And they both had dealt with very similar things and were there for me. What a blessing! Now, every time...okay, not EVERY, but almost every time I get frustrated or annoyed with my mom, I remind myself that I’d rather her be here alive and healthy to drive me nuts than for her to be gone. I’m so grateful she’s cancer-free now! Oh moms!

I focus on the good. It’s a HABIT you have to cultivate, like working out and eating well. BUT it makes it so when you get in a car accident: you’re grateful it wasn’t worse. So when you’re in traffic: you’re grateful you have a vehicle and a place to go. When somebody is a dick: you’re grateful you aren’t them and don’t treat people like that.

Things can ALWAYS be worse. And for me, they have been. So what a gift it is to have this moment, and to choose to focus on how fortunate I am and how much I have.

I make a conscious decision to live life through a lens of gratitude and abundance, not of lacking. You can do that, too! I know the best way to start, is to every single day think of 5 things you’re thankful for. You can do it in the morning in bed, or before bed in a gratitude journal, OR BOTH! Also: tell your friend’s you appreciate them out of the blue. When you put that good out there, it comes back to you!

And that doesn’t mean I don’t get sad or mad. But when I do, I just let that happen. I feel it, because that’s important. I’ll usually vent to my husband or one of my best friends. And then eventually, I breathe and let it go and focus on the good. It’s not always easy. There are times where my mind is like “yes I know this could be worse...” but my heart is still upset. But eventually, you get there.

Also, sometimes, I think of a friend I’ve lost-like the amazing Laura Allio. And if I’m about to complain about something, I remember how much I wish she were alive to be able to bitch about it...and also that she wouldn’t. And that it’s a gift to even be able to complain, or move my body when I’m tired, to have a job to have to go to...yada yada. And that will get me right back on track.

My mom always used to say to me growing up (because she had quite an emotional daughter that cried a lot) “Is this going to bother you in 3 days? In 3 weeks? In 3 months? THEN LET IT GO!’ lol And she's right. As mom’s tend to be. Most of the things we get SO bogged down by, don't affect us a few days later. So why let it taint the day you’re living now? Another thing I did that was SO helpful with journaling are mantra meditations. So I pick a few mantra’s I like and I play some binaural beats from youtube. I sit with my eyes closed. I inhale, and on my exhale I say the mantra. Sometimes out loud. Sometimes in my head. Certain mantras will INSTANTLY create a smile. Here are some of my favorites:

“I deserve love.”

“I am the light.”

“My income is constantly increasing.”

“I allow my life to move with ease and joy.”

If you haven't heard of Louise Hay, I HIGHLY SUGGEST looking her up. One of her go-to’s is to say “I love you (enter your name here)” while looking in the mirror. She has an amazing little book called “Heal your body” where she gives you mantras for actual ailments your body! It’s AMAZING! I’m thankful for you. For your support. For your time. For reading this. For being here in the world. Remember to choose to look at how abundant you are! I mean, you’re reading a blog on the internet right now! WHAT IS THAT?! There are people in this world that don’t even have clean water, not to mention the ability to sit somewhere (because so help me god if you are driving I will come after you) and read a blog post about positivity!

Thank you thank you!

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