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sejanusxcoriyo · 5 months

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If only you could stay- Sejanus Plinth

Warnings: None

Synopsis: Sejanus leaves for district 12 to be a peacekeeper. You tried to go with him, but couldn't. So you decided to surprise him.

A/N: Sorry for not posting the last couple days. My grandma is in a nursing home, and I've been trying to spend as much time with her as possible. Btw, I have created a character name for you, its Mai White. Sorry for taking so long, this part took me three hours to write.

I lay in my bed, his head on my chest while my fingers run through his curls. His body is tangled with mine, as he traces circles across my stomach.

"Do you have to go?" I ask him, burying my face deeper into his chest.

"Yeah, that was the deal my father and I made. I can graduate but I have to become a peacekeeper." He mumbles pulling me tighter against him.

"Maybe there is another way." My head pops up and I look at him with a glimmer of hope in my eyes.

"I'm sorry Rose, but there isn't. I have to go." he takes a deep breath and sighs softly.

"Are you going back to district 2?" I whisper into the side of his chest.

"No, my father said I could go to 11 or 12, and turns out Coryo is going to 12, so I'll go with him."

I sit up and let the skin of my knees touch him. I don't want to meet his eyes, but I know I have to in order to ask this question.

"Maybe you should go to 11 instead?"

"Why 11? Do you have something against me going with Coryo?" He pulls away from me and sits up.

"I just don't trust him Sej. I've heard him talking to Arachne and he doesn't like you. He tolerates you." I refuse to meet his eyes after I tell him that.

"I don't think that was him." He starts, but he his quickly cut off by me.

"Just go to 11 Sej."

"He saved my life; he told me we were brothers. If I can't spend the next twenty years with you, I'd rather spend them with him. At least I know him."

I roll my eyes at his statement, but I guess I'm okay with it as long as he is safe.

"Okay, just promise you will be careful, Coriolanus can be a lot to handle. When you are ready, write me, I can get you home." I touch his arm softly.

"Okay, I love you, Rose." He confesses.

"You do? You love me?" I sit there shocked that he has said this, right before he leaves me, leaves us for the next 20 years.

"I do, and I won't ever live it down if I didn't tell you." He pulls me into his lap, and he rests his arms on your waist.

"Of course I love you. I always have. I have always loved you Sejanus." I respond back, finally confessing my love for him.

My eyes close reveling in the moment, knowing he was going to be leaving me tomorrow. I felt his lips press against mine.

"Say it again. Say you love me again."

"I love you, I love you so damn much Sejanus."

He kissed me again, pulling back with a smile on his face. "I'll never get tired of hearing you say that."

I pull him down on top of me, wrapping my arms around his neck. All I wanted us to do was enjoy the moment. He made his way back to his original spot, tracing circles on my stomach again.

I felt him slow then eventually stop. I looked down and he was asleep. I want him to relax before he has to spend the next 20 years of his life on a routine. I grabbed my blanket throwing it on top of us. My nanny poking her head inside a few minutes later.

"Are you guys okay?"

"We are fine, he is asleep."

"Okay, dinner is cooked whenever you come downstairs."

"Thank you."

The night passes by in a blur; Sejanus waking up and eating dinner with me, him wanting to make love to me one last time before he goes, (Yes I will be writing a smut about this) him making sure to leave me something to remember him by.

I sit up dreading the time. I look behind me where Sejanus is sleeping peacefully. I hate that I have to wake him up.

"Baby, baby wake up."

"Hm, a few more minutes."

"I already gave you a few minutes Sej, you have to get up and eat."

"Okay, I'm up, I'm up."

He climbs out the bed going into the bathroom. He comes out a few minutes later kissing me. He takes me hand lacing his fingers through mine. Before I realize I am standing in front a train, tears threatening to fell from my face. I looked up at him, his curls gone, and his fresh buzz-cut.

"You look so handsome."

"Thank you. I'm going to miss you so much."

"I'm going to miss you more. Go be a medic and help change the districts."

He kissed me one last time before walking onto the train. The countdown starts.

I head to class clutching his jacket around my arms. It has his scent, and its driving me crazy. I smile at Clemmie as I walk in.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm not, but I will be eventually."

She smiles at me as Dr. Gaul walks into the classroom. The games were over what could she be doing here.

"The games were a huge success and I require the help of two students to help me start modifying mutts for next years games."

Oh god, the games were to continue. I had to tell Sejanus. He was going to be disappointed, but we could make a difference when he comes back.

"Who do you think she is going to pick?"

"If they were here I'd assume Sejanus and Coriolanus."

"Mai White and Arachne Crane. Please come with me."

I look at Clemmie and walk after Dr. Gaul, side by side with Arachne. We exchange glances and look back at Dr, Gaul. She leads us to her office.

"So, congratulations, Arachne and Mai. You both have been accepted into University to study under me. First, we will be going to the districts collecting the resources needed to complete our projects. Then we will be modifying them into dangerous mutts to be used in the arena for next year's hunger games."

I didn't exactly know how I felt about this. I wanted to work with science but not like this, maybe I can use what I learn for good. The next few months fly by, with Arachne and I helping Dr. Gaul collect the items the peacekeepers were collecting from their respective districts.

We finally arrive in district 12, and I'm excited to see Sejanus for the first time in months. I didn't tell him I was coming so he could be surprised when he saw me. We rested the first night, and rose early the next day. I walked through the building following Dr. Gaul. I spot Sejanus and Coriolanus talking. Coriolanus was looking at something, he was recording their conversation. I watch Coriolanus making sure to keep an eye on the device he was using. Dr. Gaul walks outside, meeting the two boys. She smiles as Coriolanus hands the recording device with the conversation on it to her. She hands it to me. I smile at him, knowing I was going to listen and possibly delete the recording.

"Coriolanus and Sejanus would you mind placing those cages on the train?"

They nod and start moving. He smiles at me before he grabs his first cage. My heart flutters. We stand off to the side as Dr. Gaul watches them. I take in his new appearance. He was bigger, the conditioning was working and damn did he look good. His hair was a bit grown out but still short. His uniform was different but he still looked good in it. His smile was still as pure and innocent as the day he left.

"Keep an eye on them Mai."

"Yes m'am."

"Arachne follow me, we need to check something before we head back to the capital."

She followed on her heels as I watched the boys. Coriolanus was called for by the head peacekeeper. It was just you and Sejanus. He finished up with the cages and pulled you into a long, heartfelt kiss.

"I've missed you."

"I have definitely missed you more."

He kissed me again, pulling me into his chest.

"Sej, the games. They are going to continue, that's why we are here. Dr. Gaul selected Arachne and I to help her modify the mutts for next years games."

"What?"

"Yeah, but I want to use her training for good, but look, Snow was recording you with this. He gave it to Dr. Gaul, but she gave it to me. What were you taking to him about?"

"Leaving, he wouldn't?"

He takes it out you hands and presses play. The jabber-jays repeat the conversation. I quickly stop it and erase it. I slap his chest.

"I told you be careful around him!"

"I didn't, I never thought he'd betray me."

"Come back with us, you can do so much more in the capital than here in the districts."

"I can't."

I grab his face making him look at me. "Yes you can, we can be together. We can end the games."

"Okay, I'll come back."

"Keep your distance from him.'

"I will."

He kisses me one more time before we separate.

"Dr. Gaul is coming."

I stand in my original spot waiting for her to arrive.

"Is everything loaded?"

"Yes, we can leave when you are ready."

She walks to the table grabbing the recording device pressing play. Nature sounds ring out. I look at Sejanus and we both sigh in relief.

"Girls, go get on the train."

I walk past him, hand grabbing his. He draws a heart on my hand. I look in his eyes as he mouths 'I love you.'

'I love you more.'

Dr. Gaul follows us onto the train as we start our trip back to the capital. I was going to kill Coriolanus the next time I saw him.

#sejanus deserved better #sejanus plinth #coryo snow #hes so cute #he deserves the world #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #the hunger games #tbosas #i love him #sejanus x oc

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jerzwriter · 1 year

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Sunday Six 04.16.2023

I've been trying to avoid Sunday Sixes. I'm trying to follow the creative process where it leads, which means I'm not on a "regular" schedule, and sometimes certain stories take a backseat if the "feeling" isn't there. So if things don't get written as soon as I like, I feel bad, and it messes with the process more. But there are some fics that will be out this week. Here's a sneak peek, I hope you enjoy!

A Different Fate Part 2: Ethan's POV | OH- Ethan x Kaycee:

Ethan slipped into his navy blue blazer as he entered the foyer, taking one last look in the mirror before he left. It was unseasonably warm in Boston tonight, so a blazer was unnecessary. But Kaycee liked it. She commented on how it brought out the blue in his eyes each time he wore it, and while he was unsure about that, he knew he loved the way her eyes raked over him whenever he wore it. So the blazer was joining him tonight, even if he didn’t consciously understand why.

And Baby Makes 3 | OH - Tobias x Casey:

Casey clenched Sienna's hand, letting out a guttural scream as another contraction hit. Sienna was doing her best not to scream herself, no longer fully confident that one of her fingers hadn't broken, and that's when Jackie walked in. "Fuck!" Sienna grimaced. "Happy to see you, too, Si!" "It's not that! I was hoping you were Tobias. Where the fuck is he!"

Tobias frantically rounded the corner, practicing Lamaze breathing himself to keep from hyperventilating. Grabbing the counter, he came to an abrupt halt at the nurses' station. "Where... where is she!" He demanded. "My wife! Where is she?" "Dr. Carrick, I believe she's in L&D number 3." He didn't wait to hear more. Flying in the direction of the room, he burst through the door without knocking. "Baby, I'm sorry I took so long. I came... Jennifer?" "Tobias," a very pregnant brunette gasped. "What the fuck are you doing here?"

Untitled WTD Fic | Eli Sipes & the Sipes family:

"Dad..." David entered the room with a lopsided grin, and a head that was dripping wet. Not something that should have happened indoors." "Oh, fuck," Jim growled. "The roof again?" "Yep!" "You boys will need to sleep in the main room tonight," his mother jumped in. "That's too much of a leak. How bad is it? Could a drone breakthrough?" "Nah," Eli answered, drying his own head with a towel when he entered the room. "I took a look at it; it's deep cracks but no holes. We should be safe through the night, but if you want, I can sit watch in there." Jim looked up from his reading and shook his head. "It's not necessary, son. We can patch it up in the morning. I'm afraid we can't put it off with the weather we've been having." "But we need to hunt," Florence reminded. "We're very low on food, and that roof is a four-person job." "It could be," Jim shrugged, "but we can make do with three. Eli," he shouted in his son's direction. "You OK with going hunting alone?" "No," Florence interrupted. "Not at this time of year! It's not safe. We'll hunt the day after tomorrow." "Ma, it's no big deal," Eli assured. "I'm in the woods alone quite often." Florence wrung her hands, worry lines becoming more pronounced on her brow. "I'm falling into old patterns again, aren't I?" she asked with a weak smile. Eli leaned over and kissed the top of his mother's head. "I'm lucky to have a mother who cares about me," he grinned. "But I'm a big boy, and I promise I'll be ok."

Perma tags: @a-crepusculo @animesuck3r @annoyingmillenialnewbie @crazy-loca-blog @differenttyphoonwerewolf @doriopenheart @fayeswiftie @genevievemd @gryffindordaughterofathena @inlocusmads @jamespotterthefirst @jennieausten @kingliam2019 @liaromancewriter @lucy-268 @onikalover @openheartforeverinmyheart @potionsprefect @quixoticdreamer16 @rookiemartin @secretaryunpaid @socalwriterbee @sophxwithers @tessa-liam @trappedinfanfiction @jerzwriter-reblogs-asks @choicesficwriterscreations

More tags on reblog.

#choices fanfic #playchoices #open heart fanfic #wake the dead fanfic #ethan ramsey #tobias carrick #eli sipes #ethan x kaycee #tobias x casey #eli x zoe #choices fic writers creations #sunday six

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cinemaspoppycornuwu · 1 year

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𝔏𝔦𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔫 𝔱𝔬 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔱 🔫❤🦋

It's been some months since Nicki has started her career as a Passione doctor/nurse after the incident of her aunt. To resume everything: aunt Diana was sick, met Giorno, learned more about stands, met the gang, entered Passione and now there she is learning more about medicine. It wasn't easy dealing with missions and public university studies at the same time, that's why she haven't entered in one yet. But still, Giorno gave her free acess to the library for whenever she wanted to go and would study there.

A knock was heard.

"Hm? Come in" she spoke in a gentle tone. Mista appeared in all of his glory. Olive tan skin, deep black eyes, (kinda messy) curly dark hair, in one of his fancy suits. Somewhat he made her heart beat faster than usual, always feeling more comfy with him than the other guys "Oh, Mista! What brings you here? Do you need anything? Any medication..."

"Thanks, Nicks, but I just came to tell you that we all are about to go home early this friday."

"I won't take too long, I promise. Are the others waiting for you?"

"They can go by themselves. I won't let a lady stay alone here."

"What a gentleman" she giggled "And... Pills in their places, first aid kits in their places... I believe I am not missing a thing. Okay, I'll leave with you" she hurried up to get her handbag and locked the door.

"Good. Liking living in Italy?"

"I do miss Brasil sometimes... But here it is too lovely... Sometimes I wish I could have went to public university there... But I need to be 18 to enter there at least..."

"How old are you?"

"Seventeen. I'll do 18 in four months."

"Oh..." Mista's shoulders tensed for a moment "...in which day?"

"June 21"

"Oh thank God it isn't june 4."

"I've never understood your relationship with that number. I know you don't like it but..."

"You ain't going to take me seriously. Only Bruno knows what happened in deep details. Plus, you'll need to get at home."

"I don't have any plans for this friday. Neither on this weekend in general. Valentine's day was yesterday and I do wanna avoid the couples in the place where I live at this moment. "

The dark eyed boy let out a laugh and said "Maybe we can get some strawberry cake."

"We'll get the cake and we can go to my house. It's kinda close so that's why I come here by walking."

(Image)

"Hm... Delicious..."

"And in the right amount. Not four. Just three. The third one we can cut in half for each."

"You promised to tell me about the number four now~" teased the honey blonde.

"Okay, okay... It all started when I was 16...? 17...? It is kinda recent. I was going on my night walks as usual. And then I saw a half naked woman getting beaten up by a guy" he stopped for a moment before continuing "My head didn't reacted right and when I realized, there was a gun in my hand. The other men, probably crooks of that one guy, tried to shoot me but for some reason none of the bullets had hit me."

"Surprisingly" she smirked.

"Watcha mean by that, shortie?" he asked messing gently her hair.

"Hehe... Sorry, I interrupted you."

"It's alright" he smiled at her but went back serious when he remembered "It was four. Four shoots. And then I was in jail" the bright in his eyes had faded for a moment "But hey that happened in 1999. It's 2002."

"I... I had no idea, Mista..."

"How could you know?"

"Why you hadn't told the others about this?"

"They wouldn't take me seriously as said. And sometimes, I'd share some things only to Bruno and Giorno."

She gazed at the rooftop of her apartment and took her plate to wash "Don't you want the last slice?"

"You can eat it or save it for later. I am about to brush my teeth and put on something comfy to sleep. You can sleep here if you wish. It is kinda late."

"Wait. You don't mind?!"

"Why would I?"

He looked to the side "May I help at anything?"

"Mista, the house is fine. Well... Maybe I got something for you to wear... I do have a large shirt from my uncle... Maybe some pants too..."

"I'll only need a blanket."

"I'll fetch both just in case" she replied with a smile and dashed to her room to get everything he needed. Nicki's room was very tidy and always smelled great. There was a couple's bed, a wardrobe for her clothes, a desk for her studies with three notebooks on it, and there was a bathroom too. It was a huge thing for her bathe in a bathtub since it wasn't common to have one in Brazil "There you go. Got you as well a toothbrush, hair brush and deodorant."

"Are ya calling me smelly, miss Vasconcelos?" He asked playfully rising his eyebrow.

"Not me, but maybe Narancia right now at this moment."

"That rascal. Pfft!"

"Well, if you need anything, just come to my room."

"Won't it be a bother?"

"Not at all. You are a loving company, Guido. Why would I be bothered?" her cheeks flushed in the same instant the words came out of her mouth, realizing what was said. But Mista's face was also in the same state as hers "N-Night, Guido, just don't forget to close the windows and turn on the air!"

[. . .]

After long minutes, Nicole still hadn't fallen asleep. She got out of her room to check on Guido and go to the balcony to get some fresh air and clear her mind. And there was was, layed there on the sofa dreaming with a smile on his face. The dark curls on his hair slightly messy made him look even more adorable. The honey blonde young lady adjusted his blanket over him and went out. The streets were peaceful, nothing too much happening. Just the same things as usual: the same couple on a date, a cop walking with their dog, more people on the streets and everything okay. After like five minutes or something, she decided to enter and go back to sleep.

"Can't sleep?"

"Did I woke you up?"

"Nah. It is okay. Is something bothering you, Nicki?"

"I've just been... Overthinking..."

"Wanna sit here and talk? I can get you something to snack or just some water."

"Thanks, Mista, but all good. I just remembered some things from my school time..."

"Akward memories?"

"Yeah... Hehe, I was kinda silly looking back then."

"But still amazing, I suppose."

"Nah. Sure, the fifth best in class but still, very akward" she rolled her eyes with a shy smile "It was when I confessed my feelings for a boy and a girl and everything went wrong‐"

"Wait. Girl?"

"...I am bissexual..." she looked down "Sorry if... It bothers you but none of the others know about it yet."

"Oh no, sorry! I can't think STRAIGHT when you're close" both giggled at his non-intentional pun. But then she realized.

"Wait, what? How so?" At this very moment he knew he might have accidentally confessed to her. He could sense his face turning all red and embarassed from his words. Sure, both had a serious crush on eachother since they had met and everyone else could see, even a blind person, but never actually told what their hearts wanted to. Well, until that moment. Her eyes shone when hearing those words.

"Uh... Nevermind..."

"You said, now speak!"

"Nicki, no!"

"Please please please please please!" She came closer to him, with puppy eyes.

"Urgh... F-Fine. I like you, silly."

"For real?"

"Yeah... Since the day you came in... I was just afraid of telling it to you for... Stupid reasons... I understand if you don't feel the same–" before he could finish the sentence, she kissed his cheek multiple times, getting him off guard "Huh?!"

"And I thought I was the only one!"

"Well, come here then, shortie!" He gently kissed her on the lips. A happy, vivid, sweet first kiss. Her stomach was filled with butterflies fluttering their wings really really fast. After a few moments, the olive-tan skinned man said "Guess Narancia will lose some of his money~"

"Wait what?"

"He thought I couldn't confess to you in one year."

"Oh, the two of you!"

"What?"

"HONESTLY, EVEN HE DOUBTED!" shouted Pistol number 3

"Number 3, the neighbours are sleeping!"

"Shut up, 5!" Said 3 hitting hard 5.

"All of you quiet or no salami for breakfast!" Said Mista and Nicki at the same time.

After long 10 minutes comforting 5, the Pistols finally got tired and slept.

"Why sleeping in a couple bed?"

"I am used to those because of my back."

"I see... Wow, it's actually comfy!"

"Glad you liked it!"

Both adjusted themselves, spooning in a comfy position where they could sleep face to face. Guido gently held her back while Nicki played gently with his beautiful (and somewhat well taken care) locks. It was such a comfy and loving sensation. It was almost like if their heartbeats were in pure sync. Mista was afraid of putting her into danger just like he was indirectly responsible for the deaths of Leone, Bruno and Naracia. Even though everything was solved up thanks to Giorno, it was a huge stress and burden he had to carry with him. But as the quote says by an unknown person: who goes into the rain is to get wet. The 19 year old young man whispers for her "Nicki~?"

"Yes, love?"

"I'll do whatever I can to protect you... It's a promise."

"But who is going to protect me from you?" Asked giggling.

"Naughty~"

"Jokes aside, this is the very first time a guy tells me that stuff..."

"What happened to that boy? The one you said you confessed to."

"He actually used me at his favour. I did all of his homework for one month."

"You what?!"

"And the girl... Well, she slapped my face."

"Please, tell me they're dead."

"I guess not."

After 15 minutes of talking, the recent made couple surrended to sleep. Next morning, it was all cuddles and sweet love words between them. Now they can be the terror of single people as well like: Giorno + Bria; Leone + Syl; Fugo + Angelica; Bruno + Aria. Yeah, now Passione has lots of couples now.

[BONUS SCENE!]

[08:00 A.M Monday]

Giorno: Buon giorno, gang...

Mista: Buon giorno, don! *came holding Nicki's hand and kissed her cheek*

Bria: Wait... Are the two of you, actually–

Nicki, revealing her matching bracelet with Mista: Ye

Narancia:

Narancia: I lost.

Mista: Now you gotta pay dinner for me and my amazing girlfriend here.

Leone: Impressive how this douchebag got a girlfriend.

Aria: It is kinda adorable see him happy like that.

Angelica: As long as they don't fuck at work or be clingy next to me, it is fine. I don't want that himbo and that whimp that close to me.

Fugo: Well, I hope that he becomes smarter at least.

Bruno: Well, congrats both of you. I am quite happy that Mista won't be flirting with any other girl anymore during some mission—

Bria: TELL ME ALL THE DETAILS, NICKI!

Nicki: But I need to open my nurse off— AA! *is pulled by Bria*

Bria: I'LL BE GOING TO THE MEETING LATER, GIOGIO!

Bruno: ...that's my piccolina.

Aria: OUR piccolina.

Bruno: You're right, my princess *kisses her hand gently*

Syl (she belongs to @syntheticseraton1n ): Sup, what have I missed here?

Abba, thinking: omg, Syl ♡

Giorno: Mista and Nicole are dating, Bria took Nicki to gossip with her and get iced capuccinos and meeting after my girlfriend comes back.

#OC: Nicole Vasconcelos #Guido Mista x Nicole Vasconcelos #my writting

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allthemenofmydreams · 3 years

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Back Home with a Trophy & a Baby- Ben Chilwell

It was the week of the champions final, Ben was busy with training and some interviews. But in his free time at night, he would lie next to me and always lay his head on my growing belly and talk sweet words to our baby.

I was 8 months pregnant, and we still didn't know what sex our baby was. We wanted it to be a surprise, even though we were dying to know. When the team reached the Champions League final and found out that it would be played in Porto. Ben and I started having little arguments on whether or not I should attend the final. Due to my condition, I was not recommended to get on a plane, especially when you are at a stage where the baby could be born at any moment.

The day before he left we had another little talk. We still hadn't decided if I would attend the game or not. Although the doctor had given us green light for me to attend the game because everything was under control and it wasn't a long flight. According to him, the baby was going to stay in my belly for a couple more weeks, but Ben wasn't so sure. He feared that maybe I would start having contractions during the flight or, worse, that the baby would want to be born while he was at the game.

I was in the kitchen making dinner when he got home.

"I think you should stay," Ben said, placing a flight ticket and the game pass over the table. "I will be more relaxed if you stay, but I will also feel at ease knowing that you are in the stands supporting me, so... I let it up to you".

I walked and stood in front of him, placing my arms around his neck and playing with his hair. I looked him in the eyes and said

"I'm going to be fine, I mean we're going to be fine." I took his hand and placed it on my belly so he could feel the baby move.

Ben smiled and kissed me on the forehead.

"I know, I just can't help but worry about you two".

"How would you feel if I thought about it over the next few days, and let you know what I've decided?"

"I'm fine with that." He smiled and then said, "what's that smell?"

"Oh, I made your favorite food because I was craving it," He laughed and walked over to the stove to serve himself a plate.

"Let's have dinner then"

In the morning, Ben got up early for a final training session at Cobham before leaving for Portugal.

"Please, let me know what you decide Y/N, whether you go or stay¨ Ben said, taking his things and placing them in the back of the car.

I was in my pajamas standing in the door frame leading to our garage watching his movements. It was very early, but I had to say goodbye to him and wish him good luck because, whether I was going or not, it was very likely that I would see him after the game.

"We're staying, so don't worry. The baby and I want you to stay focused." Ben came over to me and kneeled, placing his hands and forehead on my belly.

"I'm going to get that win and bring that trophy home so when you grow up I can tell you about that great day."

Pregnancy hormones and Ben's words made me cry. He stood up and looked me in the eyes.

"I know I'm going to see you in a couple of days, but I don't want to leave without saying thank you"

"Thank you for what?" I asked, confused with my voice shaking from crying.

"For making me the luckiest man alive, because you are an extraordinary woman who is doing a great job with our baby. I can't wait to have him or her in our arms."Ben placed his hands on my cheeks and put his forehead on mine, "I love you so much Y/N, thank you for being my support, I don't know what I would do without you"

"I love you too Ben, thank you for all you have done for us, and for showing us not to give up and work on our dreams, I know you are a great team and you are going to win. I don't need to wish you good luck, because that victory is already yours." I gave him a soft and deep kiss. Whenever Ben plays away I get a little touchy, even though I know he'll be back in a day or two.

We hugged one more time before he got in the car and drove away.

I walked into the house and saw the tickets on the table. Even when I had told Ben that I would stay because I didn't want to worry him and needed him to keep the promise he had made to our baby before he left. I told the Footballer a little white lie.

The next day, I got dressed in comfortable clothes, grabbed my suitcase, and called an Uber to take me to the airport.

As we took off, I remembered that I hadn't told Ben about my change of plans. After a couple of hours, we landed, everything under control and the baby still in my belly. It was a safe and quiet flight and I slept through it. On the way to the hotel, I was thinking about how to communicate to Ben that I was not in London but Porto.

After checking into the hotel and settling into my room, I sent a message to Ben.

Y/N Babe, I need to tell u smth

He replied almost immediately.

Benjamin Please don't tell me the baby is born

I laughed at his worries.

Y/N Nop, baby still on my belly

Benjamin Phew! then what's it?

Y/N You won't believe me, but we're here

Benjamin Here? where? He didn't understand

Y/N Porto.

I replied straight to the point.

It's been 5 minutes since I told him I was in Portugal and he still doesn't answer my message. I don't know whether to worry. Maybe he got annoyed. A couple of minutes later my cell phone showed an incoming call from Ben, and as soon as I answered I heard his voice.

"It was that a joke y/n? because if it was..." I interrupted him.

"It wasn't a joke Ben, I'm here in Portugal. I'm at the hotel"

"Oh my god! you're such a liar, why didn't you tell me?"

"Because I changed my mind at the last minute, everything went so fast that I forgot to tell you."

"I can't believe you did it... "

"Are you mad at me?" I asked out of the blue. I couldn't deal with the feeling of guilt for not telling him.

"What! no, I'm not mad. I'm actually glad you're here."

We kept talking for a little longer until we had to end the call because of his pre-match duties.

It's Saturday morning, game day. I sent a text to Ben wishing him good luck and that I would see him later to celebrate. Later I was already in the stands waiting for the game to start. The opening ceremony gave me goosebumps. It was unbelievable. I was glad I was at the game and didn't miss this special day; because I couldn't have lived knowing how everyone was talking about this special day and I didn't get to see it.

The teams took to the field and lined up in front of the sideline for the anthem once again. I noticed that Chelsea's number 21 was discreetly looking for me. When he found me, he signaled to let me know he had seen me. The signal was to run his hand through his hair, so the fans wouldn't go looking for the person he had waved at. Which made it a special moment between us.

The stadium erupted in cheers and celebrations when Kai scored the goal that gave us the lead. I screamed and celebrated as I had never done before. We were winning. A few minutes before the end of the first half, I felt a liquid running down my legs, had I peed?

In the bathroom, while wiping myself, I realized that it wasn't pee, but that my water had broken. I tried to stay calm and not panic; there was still halftime left to play. I took a deep breath, adjusted my dress, and went back to the stands.

The referee added 7 minutes. My nerves were clutching my stomach, plus the baby was also nervous because I could feel it moving. When the ref blew the final whistle I let out the breath I didn't know I was holding, it was the longest 7 minutes of my life.

Everyone in the stands was celebrating, the boys and Ben were hugging each other. They couldn't believe it. I was so happy celebrating and watching the awards that for a moment I forgot my water had broken. It was a little pain that reminded me that the baby could be born at any moment.

When they allowed the families to enter the field, Ben came for me. The huge smile on his face and the medal around his neck made me emotional. As soon as he was near we hugged and both burst into tears. I was so proud of him, I still couldn't believe he was Champion of Europe.

"You did it!" I told him wiping the tears that were running down his cheeks "I told you you would be a champion, I am so proud of you".

"I still can't believe it, I'm over the moon," he smiled and kissed my temple "Thank you! Thank you for coming and being here with me"

"I couldn't miss this day for anything in the world"

"I'm glad you didn't miss it"

We continued celebrating until the guys went back to the locker room to get ready for the celebration party.

We had just arrived at the place when I started to feel stronger pains. I didn't want Ben to miss the party, so I tried to mask them with the breathing exercises I had been taught in my prenatal classes. But I couldn't take it anymore and doubled over in pain.

"Babe, you okay?" Ben asked, kneeling next to me. I shook my head.

"I think the baby is coming," I said, inhaling and exhaling. "at halftime my water broke".

"What? Why didn't you tell me before?" his voice sounded worried.

"Because... at that moment... it didn't hurt." my voice cracked in pain.

"We have to go to a hospital" he took out his cellphone and asked for an Uber to the nearest hospital.

When we arrived, the nurses attended to me quickly and took me to a room. They asked me a couple of questions, luckily they spoke English. Ben filled out the paperwork for my admission, while we waited for the doctor. As soon as he came in and checked me over and said.

"This baby is ready" what! but it was still a couple of weeks before I was due. "Get things ready for delivery and call the pediatrician."

All the nurses started moving quickly and I started to freak out.

"Calm down," Ben said, taking my hand and kissing me "It's going to be okay, I'm with you."

"Okay," the doctor said, "on my signal, you're going to push as hard as you can, okay?", I nodded.

"You can do it, sweetie, now it's your turn to bring our trophy into the world."

"Now!" the doctor said.

After pushing three or four times, I heard our baby cry.

"Congratulations! It's a boy," the doctor said. "Do you want to cut the umbilical cord?" he asked, looking at Ben, and Ben nodded. A nurse handed Ben a pair of scissors. Watching him cut the cord was the most beautiful moment.

As soon as it was cleaned up, they took the baby away to check that he was healthy and strong because he had been born a couple of weeks earlier. strong because he had been born a couple of weeks before.

"You did great Y/N," Ben said, kissing my lips "he is going to be fine".

Ben texted our family and the lads at Chelsea to let them know that everything had gone well and that the baby was healthy.

A couple of hours later a nurse came in with our little boy in her arms and handed him to me.

I couldn't believe that this little human being had come out of me.

"Look at him, he is as handsome as his daddy," said Ben next to me, I let out a little laugh.

"I know, he's going to be a little heartbreaker."

"I don't know which one of you two I should thank, but you have certainly made this day unforgettable" Ben's eyes were covered with a couple of tears, he was over the moon, "I'm a double champion, I won a title and a baby".

"Who knew you were going to come home with a trophy and a baby," I laughed.

Our baby was still very small but I did not doubt that he was a clone of Ben.

Since everything was under control and he was a healthy baby, the next day they let us go. So our little guy came out dressed in a Chelsea onesie that the team sent us, plus other essentials for Ben and I that we didn't have because it was all unexpected. They also sent us the baby seat so we could take him home.

We didn't know if taking a newborn on a plane was a good idea, but we couldn't stay longer in Portugal. Luckily, the doctor said there was no problem, as our baby was healthy and could handle a couple of hours on the plane. At the hospital they helped us with the paperwork so we didn't have any problems when we arrived in London.

I was glad we were going back to London with the rest of the team because then Ben could still celebrate with them. The kids and families watching us were excited, all wanting to meet little Ben.

"Congratulations, Dad," Mason said as soon as he saw his teammate.

"Thanks, buddy," they hugged. "Would you like to be his godfather?"

Mason smiled and said.

"No need to ask."

When we found out I was pregnant, we spent more time wondering who was going to be our baby's godfather rather than thinking about names. We both agreed it would be Mason since he was a close friend of both of ours.

As soon as we landed we went straight home. We wanted to rest and assimilate everything that had happened over the weekend. I was glad that our baby was born early because Ben was able to be present at the birth and enjoy our boy for a couple of days before he left for his international duties.

#ben chilwell imagine #ben chilwell oneshot #ben chilwell one shot #football one shot #football fanfiction #ben chilwell fanfic #footballer imagine #football imagine #football fanfic #football oneshot

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buck-buck-boose · 3 years

Text

I'll Love You 'Til I Die

Masterlist | Playlist

Summary: A Brooklyn schoolgirl fell in love with James Buchanan Barnes at the tender age of nine. With this love she made a vow, promising to love him until her very last breath.

Pairing: Bucky x OFC

Warnings: Language, violence

Word Count: 4.3k

Author's Note: I am... so sorry for taking so long. I was not expecting the start of the semester to be so hectic. I can't promise I'll go back to posting as regularly as during the summer, but I can promise that I'm not disappearing. I promise. I WILL SEE THIS FANFIC THROUGH EVEN IF IT KILLS ME. Thank you for the kind words and support while I've been MIA. Enjoy a chunky chapter.

Chapter Twenty-Four: Little Saint Lottie

October 27, 1943

“I’m worried about her, Betty.”

“I know, Gladys. I know.”

Lottie couldn’t remember the last time she’d gotten a full night’s rest. Days seemed to bleed into each other, with no slumber to distinguish today from tomorrow. It wasn’t long after arriving at Azzano that she realized that he wasn’t waiting for her. Bucky was gone. In his place, dozens of men awaited her arrival with sunken eyes and twitching lips that begged for relief, whether it be through a healing touch or a final blow to the head.

When the realization hit Lottie, there wasn’t much she could do besides throwing herself into her work; if she couldn’t help Bucky, the least she could do was help his brothers in arms. Although anxiety ate her up from the inside out, Lottie had confidence in Bucky’s abilities. He wouldn’t let himself die in some POW camp, he just wouldn’t. Because then who would take care of her and Steve? He’d fight tooth and nail to get back to them, she just knew it.

She threw herself into her work, rarely stopping long enough to have a proper conversation or a full meal; this bad habit of hers came to a halt, though, when she came upon a boisterous redhead in need of stitches. Lottie had been deep in thought while examining the gash above his forehead when the soldier cracked a grin and peered up at her without moving his head too much.

“Do I know you from somewhere?”

Lottie shook her head, “I’m afraid not, Private—” she glanced at his dog tags, “—O’Connor.”

“Ever done pinup? Maybe I know you from one of those cheesecakes we’ve got hanging up.” The man— more of a boy really, with his lanky frame and jovial smile —wiggled his eyebrows and ruined her diligent work of cleaning the blood from his wound.

The question left Lottie flustered; the idea of dozens of men gawking at her scantily clad figure left her feeling mortified, “Certainly not! I find that my talents are better suited for healing.”

O’Connor nodded and inspected her face carefully as she went to work on his gash once more. “I’ve got it!” Lottie nearly jumped away from him when he clapped his hands together, “You’re Little Saint Lottie, in the flesh!” The boy crowed his revelation, earning him glares from the other men recovering in the medic tent.

Lottie nearly dropped the needle that she’d been preparing to thread, “Excuse me?”

“Ah, it’s a funny story,” O’Connor chuckled, “Y’see, Sarge had this little photo he’d take everywhere. Always had it in his pocket, tucked in his helmet, you name it. Wouldn’t let the damn thing go. Anyway, we stole it out of his fatigues one day while he was cleaning up in some river ‘cause we wanted to see what the big deal was. Once we saw it was some dame—” Lottie shot him a look, “—lady, we started yanking his chain about it. He was just about as obsessed with that photo as my Ma is with her holy cards, so when he finally told us your name, we dubbed you ‘Little Saint Lottie,’ patron saint of the one hundred and seventh. That kinda pissed him off, but it’s not like you’re his girl, y’know? Though he sure acted like you were.”

Lottie was speechless. About halfway through his story, her mouth had dropped open and her hands had fallen to her lap. Here she was, looking dumb as an ox, while the soldier in front of her chuckled with childish glee.

“Me and the guys would even ask for your intercession whenever the chaplain came by to pray with us. Poor guy had no clue which saint we were talkin’ about. We tried to give it a place of honor in the tent but Sarge made us run laps when he found out we’d nicked it again.”

O’Connor nearly doubled over in laughter as he watched Lottie’s expression grow in horror. “Well as I’m sure Bucky�� Sergeant Barnes has told you, I’m no saint. I’m just a nurse. Now hold still, unless you want these stitches to be more painful than they already are.” Before she could stop herself, the question came tumbling out of her mouth, “Speaking of Sergeant Barnes, do you know—” she fumbled with the needle as she made the first stitch, “—is he alright? Did you see him?” The soldier let out a hiss of pain, “Yeah, I got a glimpse of him while they were takin’ him away. He was battered but alright. There’s no man quite like Sarge, I know he’ll be back. He’d fight tooth and nail to get back. That’s what he said at least, ‘cause he always went on and on about how you needed him and all that. He sure talked about you an awful lot for a guy who hasn’t even asked you to go steady.”

Lottie’s breath hitched at the final comment, the mere idea of going steady with Bucky reducing her to a stuttering schoolgirl. She began to tie off his stitches, “We’ve been best friends for over a decade, it’s perfectly normal to care for each other deeply without bringing affection into it.”

O’Connor shrugged, which jostled her arm slightly, “I’ve never heard a guy talk about his best friend like that.”

Lottie didn’t respond. She gave his fully sutured wound one last glance, “Looks like you’re all set. Now don’t do anything stupid to get it infected.”

He gave her a crooked grin and wiggled his eyebrows, Lottie nearly scolded him but held her tongue, “As you wish, Saint Lottie.”

Lottie rolled her eyes and moved along to the next bed, where another soldier waited with a smile just as wide. It seemed that these men had become pleased as punch to know their patroness had come to grace them with her presence.

The USO’s visit to their camp took Lottie completely by surprise. She’d spent so much time floating from one medic tent to the next that she’d ended up completely out of the loop of the camp’s other goings-on. It wasn’t until she saw the fully-erected stage in the middle of camp that she realized. Her heart beat powerfully within her; with Steve here, she would be one step closer to finding Bucky. One step closer to bringing him home. “They say he’s gonna be here in a few hours,” Mary beamed, obviously giddy to see the Star-Spangled Man up close and in the flesh.

Lottie returned her smile, though it was weak. The weariness was starting to catch up to her, making her feel much older than a youthful twenty-three. Her stomach was in knots with anxiety; she needed to get to Steve as soon as possible.

Betty stood with them as they watched the hustle and bustle of preparations, “I’m pretty sure we’re the only ones looking forward to seeing Captain America. All these boys care about is seeing a bunch of girls dancing for them on stage, not some hunk of meat in a red, white, and blue suit.”

Nancy, who had just joined the conversation, scoffed, “It’s quite disappointing how little you think of these men and their patriotism.”

Gladys rolled her eyes, “They’re still men, Nancy. Scantily clad women or a guy singing about war bonds? They’re gonna prefer the women.”

Several hours later, Gladys was indeed proven right. Although he’d been driven off-stage with jeers and taunts, Lottie was waiting for him with a warm embrace.

“Hey, Lottie,” She could hear the smile in his voice, she felt its warm timbre as it surrounded her and reminded her of home.

“Good to see ya, Stevie.”

Steve pulled away from her and gazed around the camp, a grimace growing on his features, “Things don’t look to good around here.”

Lottie nodded, a twin grimace gracing her lips, “The hundred and seventh started out with two hundred men. Now they’ve only got fifty left. They’re barely holding on.”

Steve’s gaze shot to hers the moment she mentioned the one hundred and seventh, “Lottie that’s— this is Bucky’s—” The desperate look in his eyes made her own calm exterior begin to crack.

“Stevie, I know,” she whispered, a lump forming in her throat and tears pricking at her eyes, “I know, and I’m sorry. He’s not here. They— Those bastards took him, damn them!” For the first time since arriving at camp, Lottie cried. She sobbed and clung to Steve once more, feeling every bit like a scared little girl from days gone by.

Steve rested his hand against her back, “I’ll get him out, Lottie. He’s gotta be alive and I’ll get him out.”

She shook her head and wiped the hot tears from her cheeks, “No, Steve. You’re not going alone. I’m coming with you.”

“Lottie, you know I can’t put you in harm’s way like that—”

“Steve. I’m serious. What do you think I was doing that whole time I was with the SSR? Yes, we were making the serum, but they nearly trained us to death. I can shoot, I can use my knife. I can’t let you go without me.” Her voice was starting to crack, “We have to find Bucky together.”

There was silence between the two of them until Steve finally conceded, a wary gaze in his eyes, “Fine. But you need to be by my side the whole time.” Lottie nodded her chest warming with hope. “C’mon, we need to have a conversation with Colonel Philipps.”

The two of them jogged to his tent with their coats held above their heads to shield them from a sudden shower of rain. They entered the colonel’s tent, looking comical with their wet hair and heaving chests. Around them, soldiers and officials paced to and fro, examining maps or signing off various forms. If Lottie squinted, she could just barely make out the words. Letters of condolences; heartbreakingly clinical letters of regret for the losses of these sons, these brothers, these boys.

“Colonel Phillips,” Steve began, “Are you planning a rescue mission? For the surviving prisoners from the Battle of Azzano?”

The colonel looked back at him with a straight face, “Yeah, it’s called winning the war.”

Steve’s blond eyebrows furrowed, “But if you know where they are why not at least—”

“They’re thirty miles behind the lines. Through some of the most heavily fortified territory in Europe. We’d lose more men than we’d save, but I don’t expect you to understand that because you’re a chorus girl,” before Lottie could protest, he shot her a glance as well, “and you’re just a nurse.”

Steve’s gaze on Colonel Phillips was cool, “I think I understand just fine.”

The colonel pushed past them, “Well then understand it somewhere else. Now if I read the posters correctly, you’ve got someplace to be in thirty minutes.”

“Yes sir, I do.”

Steve grabbed Lottie’s hand and pulled her behind him, “C’mon, we’ve gotta get going. You go get changed.”

Lottie nodded; her medical uniform would impede this mission so she’d need to wear the fatigues that the government had finally issued to them. Her heart raced a mile a minute as she scrambled back to the nurse’s tent to change. She knew that Colonel Philipps would be terribly angry once he found out she’d shirked her night duties, but her loyalties to Bucky took precedence. The recovering soldiers were left in the capable hands of her peers. She swore as she nearly toppled over while yanking her boots on; it was rather hard to get dressed in such a hurry. By the time she was ready and had exited the tent, she was met with the somber faces of Agent Carter and Steve.

“Agent Carter, what are you doing?” For a moment, she feared that they’d already been caught, that the SSR was already putting an end to their mission.

The other woman pursed her lips, “I’m here to help.”

A mere half-hour later and they found themselves in the SSR’s plane, headed to Krausberg, where the POW camp was located. Howard Stark called out to them from the cockpit, “We should be able to drop you right at their doorstep.”

Fear was starting to creep into Lottie’s mind and burrowed itself deep within her gut. She heard the conversation continue all around her, but she was still processing the daunting mission before her. She and Steve up against Hydra. All alone. Even Bucky had struggled against them; he’d lost to them in the Battle of Azzano. Bucky. That’s what worried her most. It’s what filled her with the most fear. If she and Steve got through the Hydra camp safe and sound only to find that he was dead, Lottie wasn’t sure how she’d deal with it. She’d probably go mad, in all honesty. She’d end up in some institution, crying over lucky pennies and charcoal drawings while being molly-coddled by some woman in white. How tragic that would be.

Before her thoughts could become any darker, Lottie was jolted back to reality by the sound of bullets against metal. Steve grabbed his shield and her arm, urging her to join him by the plane’s exit.

Agent Carter shot up from her seat, “Get back here! We’re taking you all the way in!”

He turned to respond, “As soon as I’m clear, you turn this thing around and get the hell out of here!” “You can’t give me orders!”

A smile grew on his face, “The hell I can’t! I’m a captain!”

Steve shifted his goggles and nudged Lottie, “It’s go time. When you see me pull the chute out, you do the same.”

Lottie nodded with a quiet determination, and together, they jumped.

Entering the base was painstakingly quiet; once they’d snuck into a truck and eliminated the guards inside, Steve and Lottie were left to mouth words and offer silent support through unwavering gazes. Once they’d safely passed the gate of the base, they exited the truck and swiftly dealt with any opposition.

Steve led her across the base with caution, giving hand signals when it was safe to turn a corner and sprint across a patch of unobstructed space. The two of them traveled with the shadows, avoiding any spotlights that could catch them in the act. Lottie scarcely felt that she could breathe, it was as if one exhale would reveal their presence to the multitude of guards.

Once they entered the main building, the two of them found themselves in what seemed to be a factory. There were giant sheets of metal everywhere and huge bombs seemed to surround them. Amongst them all, Hydra soldiers transported other metal parts and containers of glowing blue material. That did not bode well with Lottie at all.

Lottie spotted some guards walking to a lower level, jangling keys in hand. “Steve, they might be guarding the prisoners.” Her whisper was barely audible, fear keeping her from speaking any louder.

“The blueprints said they were below the manufacturing level. C’mon.”

They followed the guards onto a walkway that had large circular grates that cut into the metal, each forming the ceiling of small cells that the poor prisoners had been separated into. Lottie and Steve knocked the guards out and stole their keys. The two dropped to the same level as the cells and began unlocking their doors.

One of the soldiers gazed at them through the bars of his cell, “Who are you supposed to be?”

Steve panted from stress, “I’m Captain America.” He gave Lottie an expectant look.

“I guess I’m Little Saint Lottie,” she responded somewhat sarcastically, referencing the retrospectively comical nickname that was developed by the one hundred and seventh.

Some of the men cracked grins, “So you’ve heard our prayers, huh?”

“Loud and clear. Now let’s get you out of here, yeah?”

She tried to ignore the growing horror inside of her upon the realization that none of these men had brilliant blue eyes. Not a dimpled chin in sight.

“Is there anybody else? I’m looking for a Sergeant James Barnes.” It seemed that the same horror was growing within Steve.

A man in a scarlet beret responded, his British accent prim and proper, “There’s an isolation ward in the factory, but no one’s ever come back from it.”

“Alright,” Steve nodded, “The tree line is northwest, 80 yards past the gate. Get out fast and give ‘em hell. We’ll meet you guys out in the clearing with anyone else we find.”

“Wait, you know what you’re doing?” “Yeah. I’ve knocked out Adolf Hitler over two hundred times.”

Lottie couldn’t help but stare at Steve in amazement. Gone was that awkward boy from Brooklyn. He was a man now, a leader who could do anything he put his mind to. He’d grown so much, not just physically, but in his character.

While the prisoners worked their way out of the base, Steve and Lottie began their search for the isolation wards. Lottie tried to ignore the sounds of explosions and men crying out from below them while they traveled across metal catwalks. She could only hope that the cries of pain were coming from Hydra soldiers.

After turning several corners, they found themselves in an old hallway, surrounded by brick on both sides. They hurried down the corridor out of desperation; they knew they were running out of time. Lottie stopped suddenly when she heard a groan. It was close. She drew her weapon and dragged Steve into the room, her heart stuttering and her palms slick with sweat.

“Sergeant. Three-two-five-five-seven…” That voice. Oh, how she knew that voice; she loved it so. Lottie heard it whenever she found the time to fall asleep. It crept into her sweetest dreams but tore her apart whenever it wiggled its way into her nightmares.

Bucky lay in front of them, strapped down to a table; his lips moved ever so slightly as he repeated the same phrase over and over again.

She rushed to his side alongside Steve and nearly let out a cry of happiness. Had the situation not been so dire, she would’ve descended upon him with a bone-crushing embrace and great big sobs of joy by that point.

Lottie whispered a quiet, “Bucky?” His eyes were glazed over and his mouth agape, “Is that— is that—”

“It’s us, Buck,” Steve nodded reassuringly as he tore at the straps across Bucky’s chest. Bucky looked up at him, taking his face in,

“Us?”

“Me and Lottie,” he nodded, tugging her closer so that the two of them could be in Bucky’s field of vision.

Tears welled up in her eyes as she looked at him, finally feeling whole again. She’d gotten her Brooklyn boys back. Bucky only looked back in confusion, “Little Lottie, she— she’s always been here. Always. Stayed with me the whole time.”

It was Lottie and Steve’s turn for confusion. Lottie brushed the hair back from his forehead to calm him down and ground him, “Bucky, I’ve been with the SSR this whole time. We’re here to rescue you.”

Steve nodded and dragged him off the table, “I thought you were dead.”

Bucky was obviously having a hard time processing everything that was happening, “I thought you were smaller.”

Lottie listened as the gunfire intensified, “Come on, we need to move.” Steve threw one of Bucky’s arms over his shoulder and the two fell into step behind her.

“What happened to you?” Bucky grunted out, pain etched into his voice.

“I joined the army.”

“Did it hurt?”

Steve was growing agitated, “A little.”

“Is it permanent?”

“So far.” Lottie huffed, “I’d sure hope so after all that effort I put into it.”

Bucky mustered out a befuddled, “Huh?”

“I helped to create the serum that made him like that.”

“So that’s why you left without saying a word.” Bucky’s tone was only slightly accusatory.

Lottie muttered a weak “Yeah.” They’d need to have a lengthier conversation once he wasn’t struggling to walk five yards.

As they crossed the catwalks to get towards the exit, the factory below them began to combust. Huge flames erupted from the metal contraptions and triggered explosions all around them. They hastily climbed the metal stairs to get to higher ground.

“Captain America, how exciting!” A thick German accent cut through the noise of explosions and gunfire. “I am a great fan of your films!” Before them stood two men; one was a short little fellow clad in a jacket and fedora. The other was tall and wore a distinguished Hydra uniform with its menacing crest emblazoned on his shoulder.

The taller of the two gave Captain America a once over as he strode across the catwalk that separated them, “So, Dr. Erskine managed it after all. Not exactly an improvement, but still, impressive.”

“You’ve got no idea,” Steve snarled and punched the man in the face. The swift blow caused a blotch of redness to appear near his eye and a sinking feeling of realization settled into Lottie’s stomach. This was Schmidt, the monster who used the serum prototype.

Before she could say anything, Schmidt struck back and left a dent in Steve’s shield, “Haven’t I?”

There was a brief scuffle before Schmidt backed off while the other man pulled a lever, pulling the catwalk apart. With a grin, Schmidt began pulling at the skin of his face and revealed fiery red muscle and tissue beneath, just as Lottie had seen when she first began experimenting with the formula. “You are deluded, Captain. You pretend to be a simple soldier, but in reality, you are just afraid to admit that we have left humanity behind. Unlike you, I embrace it proudly. Without fear!”

“Then how come you’re running?”

Steve never got an answer. Schmidt and the other man had already boarded an elevator and left them standing on the catwalk, nearly helpless.

Another explosion went off, cueing the trio to leave, “C’mon, let’s go. Up.” Lottie instructed the men to follow her, though she wasn’t too sure how to escape the factory. All she knew was that they needed to keep ascending the stairs.

When they reached the top of the stairs, they were faced with a metal beam that led to a catwalk with an exit. It was terrifyingly slim, with only enough room to place one foot in front of the other.

“Ladies first,” Bucky murmured, “but I’ll be right behind you.” Lottie felt sure of herself knowing that at least she wouldn’t have to cross on her own.

She took a tentative first step, testing how well it would hold her weight. Lottie tried not to look down at the fiery pit below while she carefully moved along the beam. It was a comfort to have Bucky behind her with his chest nearly pressed against her back as he followed her every step. Lottie had just scrambled over the railing of the catwalk when a jarring explosion shifted the beam’s position and sent it careening downwards. She gasped in horror as Bucky leaped to grab onto the catwalk.

“There’s gotta be a rope or something!”

Steve stared at the two of them from across the pit, “Just go! Get out of here!”

Bucky slammed his fist on the railing, desperation tearing at his voice, “No, not without you!”

“Steve, please! We can’t just leave you here!” Lottie pleaded. Steve couldn’t die, not like this.

With a look of determination, Steve backed up and made a running jump to clear the gap between the two catwalks. An explosion threatened to swallow him up, but he made it over safely, although a little worse for wear.

Lottie and Bucky could only stare in amazement. Steve nodded to them both, “Let’s get outta here.”

Several ladders and a whole lot of dodging later, the trio found themselves trudging towards the tree line.

It was silent amongst the three of them; painfully, dreadfully silent. She decided it was time to break the silence, “Bucky, I—”

“Look, Little Lottie, I know you’re sorry, alright? And I forgive you. Even though you lied to my face and left without saying goodbye, I had a whole lotta time to spend forgiving you.”

Now that the fear of being caught by Hydra soldiers had fully subsided, Lottie allowed herself to let out a sob of joy and nearly threw herself at Bucky. She almost apologized for the force of her embrace since it was likely to hurt a man who’d been captured by Hydra, but he didn’t show any sign of pain. She’d need to remember that for later.

“I missed you so much, Bucky. I really did,” Lottie nearly whimpered. Gosh, she sure sounded lovesick. “I missed you too, Little Lottie.” His embrace was sure and strong, and with it, a flood of memories came back to her. Nights on her fire escape. A birthday evening spent swing dancing. A lucky penny slipped into her hand. For the first time in months, Lottie finally felt whole. Her heart that had been splintered into shards of pain and hopelessness had finally begun to mend itself back together. While she found comfort in his arms and forgiveness, she knew there were still so many words left unsaid; words that he needed and deserved to hear.

“Yeah, I missed you guys too,” Steve muttered, obviously peeved that he was being left out of their moment.

“Aw, come on, Stevie,” Lottie grinned and pulled away from Bucky a little to allow Steve to join their hug.

“And if I remember correctly, Bucky, I think it’s actually Little Saint Lottie now,” she grinned. While she couldn’t see his face at the moment, she just knew it was turning a gorgeous shade of scarlet, based on the sputtering coming out of his mouth.

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oceanselevenism · 3 years

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I've seen that most of the stories on ao3 about them are mostly canon-compliant (and I don't have anything against that tbh) but I was wondering if you have any aus that you think could fit them or that you'd like to see?

omg i have SO MANY aus!! (it got Very Long so its under a cut)

- college au! danny gets kicked out (hes on full scholarship and does Thiefly Things to cover his expenses so hes not endangered just fairly fucked up abt it) (does it count as kicked out if u only live w ur dad three months a year) in freshman year, he befriends rusty (1 year below him) in sophomore year, debbie also befriends rusty (she and danny dont talk much but shes 2 yrs below him at the same college), and when reuben comes calling for a job he thinks debbie has a boyfriend (thanks to debbie telling her dad that she does) so she fake dates rusty. who ends up joining the job. and danny is Very Jealous

- snl ripoff au! danny and rusty are the weekend-update-adjacent anchors and they get gay. i Would have this take place in la (reuben is taking A Risk producing a late night sketch comedy show on the west coast but the 11/12/however fuckin many are fantastic cast members so even though they lose revenue from the other timezones not watching as much as they watch snl or whatever, they still make BANK... but danny and rusty getting gay throws the equilibrium out of whack) BUT la sucks DICK so its happening in new york. also this way u get Ocean Sibling Banter (debbie and lou are the anchors for The Actual Weekend Update and when debbie/lou get together and also when danny/rusty get together there are so many ‘just switch out the blondes/brunettes nobody will be able to tell and we won’t have hr down our necks’ jokes)

- au where the caldwells, abt to go deep undercover on a Huge Fucking Case, have to give up custody of 6 year old linus to tess and danny. the case stretches on for twelve years and linus grows up w tess and danny (who get divorced like right after they adopt him bc tess finds out abt dannys Thiefly Activities-- he confesses to her bc he doesnt rly want to predispose the kid to said thiefly activities) and also isabel (she and rusty break up like Right Before tess and dannys wedding and its very funny; she then goes on to marry tess) parenting him (rusty isnt as much in the picture bc he doesnt feel bad at all abt stealing and tess doesnt want linus to pick up that mentality also rusty Feels Things abt danny)! then when linus is like 18 or 19 danny disappears (tess and isabel think its Thiefly Activities again and arent concerned, just disappointed, but linus is very concerned for his dad-slash-stepdad-slash-sort-of-uncle) and he tracks down rusty so they can find danny. they roadtrip across america and eventually catch up to danny, who is helping the caldwells, and the five of them take down whatever gang the caldwells were chasing. linus now has 6 parents

- au based on this post where some archaeologist finds a bunch of dannys [french person voice] Love Lettairs 2 rusty and so obviously the logical course of action is to rob the museum (which happens to be the museum that tess is curating. funny how things work out) without telling his team What Theyre Stealing. they successfully pull off the heist but turns out the letters were not among the items they stole!! danny is getting desperate. as a last-ditch attempt he calls tess and asks her to let them rob the museum. shes like Why The Fuck Would I Do That. he explains and she begrudgingly agrees. danny and livingston go break into the museum Again but rusty tails them bc dannys been acting Weird and he finds out abt the letters bc livingston sweats more whenever he tells a lie. they live happily ever after (literally, theyre immortal) the end. also even though dannys a werewolf the 11 all call him the new jersey devil (its not his fault that legend came to be ok!! he was very drunk!!)

- childhood friends au!! danny and rusty were best buds as very young kids and then the oceans had to move. flash forward 2 present day where danny and debbie r robbing a museum (theyre building a flower shop over the vault and tunneling in, the dudes in brazil who came up w it are very very clever) and guess which two people are the assistant curators (is that even a title?). guess. ill tell u its tess and rusty! danny recognizes rusty, rusty ‘does not recognize’ danny (which is valid. look at photos of child george clooney and tell me you would recognize him). the 11 demand that they use this to their advantage and so danny and rusty Sort Of Date while the rest set up for the robbery, and danny feels really bad abt it so on the day of (after everyone has gotten away, ofc, he might be a lovesick bitch but hes not a snitch) he confesses and rustys like lmao i was onto u from the start. what kind of a name is [insert alias here] anyway. then they go live a life of crime and its great

- @sanduschism came up w a fantastic au where danny pickpockets rusty and feels bad so he sends the wallet back and they strike up a Correspondence

- HOSPITAL AU!!! danny and rusty r er techs while theyre doing med school and nobody knows how they juggle their shifts w school but also rusty can do a tracheotomy in like 5 seconds and danny can tell when a person needs an mri before they even list their symptoms so nobody questions it and nobody splits them up Ever. when they eventually become surgeons, danny does cardio and rusty does neuro, and whenever they have to work together not only do they never have to say what theyre doing, they don't even have What Do U Want To Cook For Dinner convos fully out loud. tess is head nurse... she makes so many excel spreadsheets... they are ALL color coded. isabel is head er doc and nobody dares to halfass things on her watch. reuben is head hospital admin, saul is chief surgeon, basher is head of the burn unit, the malloys r the HUNKIEST nurses in town, frank does plastic surgery/ent (every patient loves him bc he is just So Calm), livingston is The IT Guy, yen does like orthopedics or physical therapy, and linus is their fav resident who they all lovingly tease 24/7. the ocean sibs r both Cardio Gods and each dominate their respective coasts. debbie is an nyc doctor and if she sees a mass gen doctor its on SIGHT. the few surgeries that she and danny collab on go so fast that the med students in the gallery Cannot tell whats happening. lou is also a plastic surgeon and she and frank r best buds. linus requests time off like 6 months in advance Every Time and everyone hates it bc then They have to be on call but he doesnt realize his Extreme Overachieverness is causing so much strife. whenever tess and danny get in an argument she colorcodes his rounds spreadsheet to be the most neon shit youve ever seen. can you tell i never fully progressed past my greys anatomy phase this one is like 93489302 lines long

- superpower au where rusty has midas touch and danny has corrosive touch and when theyre too young to have control over their powers (abilities develop throughout adolescence and the user gains control at the end of adolescence) they accidentally brush hands and are terrified they just killed each other but turns out their powers like. cancel out. so until they reach like 21 or 22 and can touch things without fucking them UP they just. hold hands all the time. bc otherwise they have to wear gloves to prevent Accidents and both of them “hate gloves” (and also love holding hands. gayasses)

- uhhh hallmark au where danny is a crime fiction writer out on some beach north of ocean city nj and rusty is his fancy nyc editor. everyone else is a thief including debbie who is just Very weirded out that her brother, who robbed boston’s institute of contemporary art at age 22 and got away with it, has decided to spend the rest of his life churning out books. he is very critically acclaimed and about half of the 11 are buds with him and use his published books as heist inspo. the other ~half of the 11 are buds with rusty, and they tell him if danny’s heists are feasible or not (they always are. scarily so.) anyway rusty and isabel break up 12 days before xmas and danny and tess break up 8 days before hanukkah so dannys heading to debbie’s place in upstate new york to mope for the holidays when A BLIZZARD HITS and he gets stranded in midtown. and he and rusty are buds but like. Email Buds. they dont hang out irl and therefore they dont let their Totally Bud-Like Feelings mess up their professional relationship. but danny is stranded and its hanukkah and he ends up crashing at rustys place for the duration of the blizzard. and then rusty ends up coming to debbies place for the rest of the holidays. and then they kiss on new years eve and debbie kicks them out bc theyre being gross

- And More! thanks for the ask, anon! sorry it got so long lol i just have Many Thoughts

#oceans 11 #oceans eleven #danny ocean #rusty ryan #danny x rusty #oceans 8 #oceans eight

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cowboahhoe · 4 years

Text

The Viper - Arthur Morgan x Reader

A quick imagine, could do more parts if you want?

Warnings: mention of abuse

Summary: upon fleeing an abusive relationship, the reader finds themselves being chased by lawmen, bounty hunters and a few members of the Van Der Linde Gang after a night in Valentine.

(gif credits to whoever owns it)

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The last few months had been far less than ideal for you. You were on the run from the law, just you and your horse Nellie. You hadn't ever foreseen your life going this way - you had always been for all intents and purposes a good girl. That was until you had met your first husband, Blake. Your birth father had decided that money meant a lot more to him than his only daughters life, so he had sold you to the highest bidder which seemed like an outdated and abusive practice; even in 1899. Blake had money in oil, and used you as arm candy but had no real love or respect for you. You were nothing more than a maid, house wife, punching bag and toy for his sexual pleasures for far too long. One fateful night your fuse had been lit, and you fought back. A shroud of red flooded your body as you pointed his own pistol between his eyes - finally feeling power against the vile man who had held you captive for a year, and you felt no remorse in applying pressure to the trigger.

The next few moments went by in a blur, you had packed a bag with all the money yourself and Blake had around - alongside necessities such as food, and weapons. After packing your loyal horse, you had faded into the night. Leaving Saint Denis, heading west. You knew there would be repercussions for your actions but there was no way to tell just how intense the manhunt would be for you, nor how large the price on your head would be for one small murder. $500 for your return to Saint Denis alive meant that you'd come across your fair share of bounty hunters in your time living off the land; you quickly realised you could only trust yourself, and your horse. This brings us to your lonely (but free) present day.

You sit in the saloon in Valentine nursing a whisky, your third of the evening. You'd been in an around the Valentine area for a few days and knew it was only a matter of time before you had to move along and set up somewhere else. Perhaps Rhodes? Although you quickly shake the thought from your mind - that may just be too close to the scene of the crime. Just as you suckle the final dregs from your glass, you spot a curious group of men walking into the saloon. You daren't take your eyes off of them, memorising every feature behind every person in the group, you want to be able to recall their identities should you need to 'silence' them. One man wore a black hat, black hair slicked with pomade and nearly down to his shoulders. He wore a black coat, and a black vest with a red breast pocket. This man seemed to have an unmatched charisma; this much you could tell simply from the way he stood. This wasn't an innocent man. Then again, who is? Next to him, a slightly smaller, scrawnier gent. With grey hair, and wearing a blue vest this man seemed to have kinder eyes, which may just be part of his play. Finally, a rugged man wearing a black hat, detailed with brown rope - you noted the bullet hole in the rim of the hat. He wore a tattered, dirty blue working shirt, and wore worn black trousers with cotton suspenders tying it all together. Although, with this man you struggle to focus so much on the clothes that cover his broad frame and pay particular attention to his features. Sandy brown hair, a messy - somewhat scratchy looking beard. The beard had a few holes in, which seemed to be due to the placement of some scars; the most prominent of which was on his chin. Then there came those eyes. Even from across the saloon you could tell they were bright blue with a twinge of green. The handsome man simply dipped on his beard whilst the other two men spoke quietly to the group, he didn't seem like the leader of the trio by any means, but it didn't seem that was important.

Just then, blue eyes looks at you and makes eye contact while taking another swig from his beer. For a moment, you're worried he may have recognised you but that fear quickly diminishes when he simply nods his head your way and turns his attention back to his friends. With new found courage, you move toward the bar. Intent on ordering a new beverage when you hear the black haired man pull something from his satchel, and start speaking to the man with grey hair in a hushed tone.

"Hosea, I told you. She's the viper, the one they want in Saint Denis... our boy John was right. We hand her in, it's a good honest days work" the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end, as you realise your time in Valentine is over - that and you need to play the next few minutes very wisely.

"I don't know Dutch, doesn't it seem unfair we're using a woman's bounty to help us flee our own misfortunes with the law?" Scrawny replies, suddenly he has become your favourite of the bunch. Blue eyes doesn't chime in at all, but you can feel his eyes on you as you stand at the bar, awaiting a cue to either whip out your pistol or flee the scene.

Adrenaline pumping through your veins, you decide the best solution is to try and slip away whilst the group argue about your fate. You know that they're outlaws, and if there are three outlaws coming after you... then you probably don't stand much of a chance. You make a beeline for the entrance, and whistle for your horse as soon as you reach the open air feeling the eyes of Dutch, Hosea and blue eyes on you as you make your exit. The unmistakable shuffle of boots accompany your exit, and you know that the men are right on your tail - the discussion of your fate seemed to be silence by your exit and only one objective remained. Get her.

You hop on the back of your horse, Nellie. She's an Arabian White and so you prayed that whatever horses this band of thieves had were slower than your girl. In seconds, you were off. You had made a instant decision to head in the direction of Emerald Ranch, hoping to lose them on the way then loop back round and head west toward Strawberry - although admittedly tactic wasn't at the forefront of your mind. Fight or flight had well and truly kicked in and you knew you needed to get away, far away. The thunderous chorus of hooves colliding with the hard ground rung through the night as the three horses chased your dear girl a cross the plains of the heartlands. Admittedly, you should have gone up through Cumberland forest as there was more cover to hide and slip away undetected. Though you had come across bounty hunters, and lawmen you had never come across a group of outlaws intent on handing you in and so the city girl who lived within you shook in her boots, and used instinct and not her brain when plotting which escape route to take.

"We just wanna talk miss" Dutch called in the dark.

"Like fuck you do Mister, I heard y'all talking about taking ma bounty" you curse back; relying a lot on your horses innate sense of direction to guide you through the hills and trying to guide her to help you both disappear. One of the men take a shot at the floor near your horse, probably trying to spook her but being that your horse is tough as nails she barely bats an eyelid.

"C'mon miss we really don't wanna hurt ya" an unfamiliar voice shouts. You realise this must be the man with blue eyes, his rough voice matches his rugged appearance well - although you don't have much time to think about the dreamy mans voice as you hear the whirl of a lasso from behind you.

You duck, and make unpredictable movements on Nellie in order to avoid the grip of the rope around your body. You feel silent panicked tears roll down your cheeks as you realise your luck had run out; not knowing your fate with these three outlaws. Just then, the rope whips itself around you and you're pulled from your seat and thrown against the floor. Your head collided with a rock, making you see stars as your horse comes to a stop and stands beside you as if waiting for you to get back up. She doesn't realise this is likely your final ride. The three men come to a stop, and blue eyes hog ties you with the lasso before turning you onto your back.

All three men stood over you, as you shook and tears leaked from your eyes.

"take me then, I don't regret what I did to him. He deserved it more than anyone I have ever known" I spit with venom.

"My dear, did the countless bounty hunters, lawmen and innocent folk who got in your way deserve the same end?" Dutch replies. Bending his knees to move closer to your face so he is crouched over you as you lay on the dirt staring up at the night sky.

"If someone tried to have you swing for self defence and would you roll over and let them take you? Or would you fight?" You respond. Looking the man right in the eyes. Giving him the coldest look you can muster up while your cheeks are stained with tears. Dutch chuckles, looking up at Hosea and Blue eyes with a jovial expression.

"Darlin' im gonna give you a choice. You can go to Saint Denis and swing, or... you can come join us. We're a group of misfits and outcasts and we're always in need of more guns. You'd have to earn your keep, of course but from what I've heard you've had no issue wrangling an income for yourself."

"Dutch is that really wise? We have plenty of people to feed we could just let the poor lady go?" Blue eyes replies to Dutch. Causing him to whip his head up.

"Enough, Arthur! She can help in ways most of those women back at camp won't, besides - If she outstays her welcome we could always take her on a trip to Saint Denis." He smiles down at you while making his threat.

"I'll go with you." You reply begrudgingly. Whenever you can make it happen, you'll escape their camp. But for now this beats swinging.

"Well then, Arthur would you be so kind as to place this fine lady on the back of your horse?" Dutch says, walking over to his own beautiful steed.

"I have a horse of my own I can ride!" You shout back to him as Arthur removes me from the floor and places you face down on his horse.

"I know, but I don't want to risk you cutting off before meeting everyone and seeing how we do things. I happen to think you'll like it once you're not all tied up" he laughs. Arthur makes sure you're well seated before getting on his horse and coaxing it into moving to follow Dutch and Hosea. You whistle for your own horse who follows behind, with all your belongings.

"I'm sorry about this miss, uh, miss..." Arthur begins. Making it clear he knows you as only your pseudonym of 'the viper'.

"Y/N, just call me Y/N Viper" you respond, already out of breath from the movement of the horse pressing up against your chest and stomach. Compressing you're ability to breathe.

"well miss Viper, we have quite a ride ahead" Arthur replies, you huff in response and Arthur chuckles. Kicking the horse into moving a bit faster so as to catch up with Dutch and Hosea. You glance back at your beautiful horse and watch as loyally follows behind you.

Rolling your eyes, you exhale again.

This is going to be a long night.

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Needless to say I hope you liked this? Can do additional parts if you want, or I mean if you have any ideas please feel free to let me know. I'm not sure how tumblr works so idk comment or message any ideas or recommendations or anything if you feel like it.

ALSO do let me know if you think this is trash because I’d rather know I just was having a touch of fun writing a little bit this evening. I’m also pregnant and my brain is completely useless so I really appreciate feedback 💖

Thanks so much 💖

#red dead redemption 2 #red dead fanfic #red dead #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan imagine #arthur morgan imagines #arthur morgan one shot #dutch van der linde #rdr2 hosea

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renee-writer · 4 years

Text

Guardians of the Stones Chapter 16 A Death

A/N Hello everyone, this is ladymeraud from oxford UK. This will be a dark chapter. I have been working in the hospitals in the NHS and we are busy. We are trying to help everyone we can and are not winning. So, I am in a dark mood. Just need to get this out so I can move on. I am not a hero just a woman who can’t do anything else but help sick people feel better. The next chapter will be the wedding. A little flash back.)

Time moves quickly. The twins are soon seven months old. They are crawling about everywhere. With Jenny and Ian's first lad, Wee Jamie, just a newborn, the house is a wonderful chaotic mess. Claire, surrounded by family, is filled with happiness. Even when her son's try to crawl out into the fields to see their daddy. As they are this morning.

“Willie, Robbie, where do you think you are going?” she scopes them up, one under each arm. “Daddy will be back in soon. Come, mam has some bannocks for you.” She sits them back on the floor with a bannock to each. They, with appetites like their da, are happy to sit and gum them.

Fergus comes running in. “Ma, a letter has arrived from the castle.”

She takes it and sees it is in Hamish's hand. She smiles until she starts to read.

“It is with heavy heart that I inform you of the death of my father, Column ban Jacob Mackenzie. His services are in three days. I pray you will all come to see him laid to rest and to see me take his place as Laird.

Hamish ban Column Mackenzie.

P.S. Please come.”

Claire is in tears. At the passing of Column and the torment of the new Laird, trying to be strong while still just a child, barely thirteen.

“Ma?”

“Column has passed. Please go fetch your Aunt Jenny and Ellen from the kitchen and then your da Uncle Ian, and grandsire, from the fields.”

“Aye ma. Hamish is he..?”

“He is hurting. We will go see to him.”

Jenny and Ellen enter and sees the look on her face. “What is amiss then?” Ellen asks.

“I've bad news. Hamish has written. Column has passed on.” Her strong face crumbles as she collapses down beside her. Claire hands her the letter. She reads over it. Jenny stands in shock.

“Oh my brother! My poor Column!” her wails bring Mrs. Crook and the other maids rushing in.

“Bring Mistress Fraser some tea and the carafe of whisky. We have received some bad news.” They curtsy and run off to do it. Claire pulls her mother-in-law close and they cry together. A still stunned Jenny joins them.

Fergus finds his da, uncle and grandsire and hurries over to them.

“Fergus son, what is wrong?”

“Da, the most distressing news. Uncle Column has passed. Hamish wrote. Ma, grandma, and auntie are weeping.”

“Christ!” Jamie whispers as they all three cross themselves. They hurry back into the house. Jamie and Ian take their wife’s in their arms. Brain pulls a devastated Ellen into his lap.

“Ian, he is gone! My uncle is gone!”

“I know my love.” He sooths his arms down her back. Jamie is doing the same with Claire.

“My Column. My dear brother!” Ellen clings to her husband and pours out her grief.

“When is Hamish having the service?” he asks. Claire fetches the letter and hands it to her husband. He quickly reads it.

“We must go.” Claire adds. “To honor Column and for~ “ her voice breaks again. “Hamish. He ~ needs us.”

“Aye. He does. Jenny, is wee Jamie able to travel?” She pulls herself together long enough to answer.

“Aye. He is.”

“We will leave out today. If that is alright da?”

“It is son.” He pours all except the youngest of his grandchildren tea laced with whisky. “Mrs. Crook, have bags prepared for all. We will be heading to Castle Leoch.”

“Right away sir.”

They arrive a day before his funeral. A subdued Mrs. Fitz sees them to their rooms. After they are settled, the men head to see the new Laird and war chief as the ladies take care of the children.

Hamish is trying to be strong. He is glad his uncle is by his side. It is a lot to grief his father and be the Laird at thirteen.

Dougal wishes to return to his own land and marry his new wife but knows his place is by his nephew’s side for a bit longer. He looks forward to introducing his assembled family to his fiancée.

Brain, Ian, Jamie, and Fergus, enter. They bow low, as befitting the new Laird before they hug the grieving men. They drink Column's famous reddish as they toast him.

“Fergus, I know you have a room by your parents but, could you join me tonight. I could use a mate.”

“Of course.”

Jamie returns to his room to find his wife asleep with their boys beside her. He smiles, despite his grief. He never tires of seeing the miracle of Willie and Robbie, with Claire. He carefully joins them, Wrapping his arm around Claire.

It is in the dead of the night when Fergus comes in. “I am so sorry da but Hamish, he needs ma.”

Jamie gently wakes her. “Mon gaul, Hamish needs you.” She wakes instantly. Throwing a wrap around herself, she hurries out after Fergus.

Hamish is curled up in the center of the bed, crying his heart out. She joins him and pulls him into her arms. “It is alright. Cry all you need. I am here.”

“I tried to be strong, like a good Laird should but..”

“Shh, you are allowed to grief you father. It doesn’t make you weak.”

“I cried when my first da passed and I waa then the man of the house too. Had to see to my ma and baby sister. Cry cousin.”

With their dual permission, he weeps for hours, soaking the front of Claire’s wrap and shift, until he cries himself to sleep. Claire carefully lays him back down

“You are a good mate Fergus. He should sleep now. Get some sleep yourself.” She hugs her eldest before heading back to her husband and babies.

She finds them all sleeping together. Willie lay across his daddy's chest with Robbie laying against his side, cradled in his arm. Her heart gives a lurch and she wishes for a camera. But, those days are long passed. She just looks at them until the picture is fixed in her heart. She then joins them. She is back to sleep within minutes.

When next she awakes, it is to her husband bringing her breakfast. “I figured after your long night, you could use it.” He explains. “How is Hamish?”

“He is hurting but strong. He will be alright.” She feeds her sons and herself before they dress for the funeral.

Every clan is represented as they lay Column to rest. All the Lairds, minus the Grants and Campbell's( they are guests of the king) are present. He has a full Catholic funeral. His son, stands tall by his uncle and cousins. His eyes are dry, for now. Jamie thinks that his uncle would be quite proud.

He will be made official Laird the next day. For now, the healer, orders a nap for Hamish and all the children as the war chief does hosting duties. Column and Hamish and toasted as Mrs. Fitz lays out plenty of food and spirits. Tomorrow will be the same when the new Laird is recognized and oaths sworn to him.

Claire and Jamie finally make their way up to their room and find their babies all three sleeping together. Fergus has a baby tucked in to each of his arms.

“They are so beautiful.” Claire whispers.

“Aye. Our family. Miracles all.”

“Yes.” She starts to get undressed done in by the long day and night.

“You wish me move them?”

“No. Please don’t.” she slips in on one side, Jamie the other. They join hands across their children. “I love you.” She tells him as her eyes close.

“I love you, sae much. You and them are my world.” They sleep undisturbed that night.

Hamish is officially made Laird the next day. Dougal stands beside him in front of the clansmen and declares that,” Hamish ban Column Mackenzie is the Laird of clan Mackenzie after his father. May God grant favor to the new Laird, to clan Mackenzie, and to Scotland!”

A cheer greets this and the oath taken begins. Dougal kneels before his nephew and new Laird and vows,” I swear by my Lord Jesus Christ, and by the holy iron I hold, to give you my fidelity and pledge you my loyalty. If my hand is ever raised against thee in anger, I ask that this holy iron pierce my heart.” Hamish urges him up and they both drink out of the same bowl his father used for such a service.

One after one, the man of the clan did the same. After the other Lairds came up and offered a different vow, a vow to support the new Laird. Finally it is Brian's turn. He kneels before his nephew.

“Laird Mackenzie, I swear to support you as Laird and kin. To be available whenever you have need of me. To honor you as I honored your father.” He is lifted up and a cheer goes through the room. The younger children are brought in As Jenny nurses wee Jamie, the twins crawl eagerly around.

Fergus sees a strange woman by Dougal and asks about her. Dougal overhears and thinks it a perfect time to introduce her to his family.

“Fergus and everyone, this is Geneva Grant. She is to be my wife.” Claire notices her husbands lose his color. Just then Robbie crawls over the lasses foot and she kicks out. The baby cries and Hamish stands.

“Mistress Grant, did you just kick my cousin!”

“No I~ I was just moving him.” Claire has hurried over to her sobbing son and lifts him up. She turns back towards Jamie just as Hamish says,

“No. You kicked him. You also tried to seduce his daddy last night. “ A furious Claire looks from Geneva to Jamie, her eyes spitting fire.

“Wot!’

“I was just…” Geneva has no answer. Jamie does.

“The lass tried to make a pass. I rebuked her, most firmly. I swear Claire. I dinna wish the lass when she tried years ago, and dinna now.”

The hall is still as all await her reaction. Hamish is faster. “Uncle Dougal, I want this woman removed from my castle immediately. You may, of course, marry her, if that be your wish, but she is not allowed in Castle Leoch.”

“My Laird, I dinna want her, a lass wanting another.” He turned away as some of his kinsmen escort her out.

“I am sorry Claire. I should have told you last night. It just, the incident nor the lass meant a thing to me.”

“It is alright Jamie. It was her not you.”

The hall settles back down, the party continuing. The Frasers and Murray’s head out the next morning. Fergus had requested permission to spend a week with his cousin.

“Ye may. A week only as the harvest will be coming in. Even with Murtagh there( he was guarding the house in their absence) we will need you.”

“Aye da. I will be back.”

2020

Fergus is shocked by what he finds. A Google search pulls up that Claire Beauchamp was reported missing in 1945 by her husband Frank Randall. Seems Mr. Randall had remarried three months later to a Sandy Duncan. The marriage had ended at his death, by auto accident, a year later, leaving no issue. Sandy had remarried.

Putting this together with Claire's dairy, he is able to piece it together. Frank, a horrid husband, had been abusive to Claire. She had enough, struck back and fled, ending up falling through the stones. Frank had done a token search before moving on. The facts are clear, if mysterious. The questions are many.

Fergus recalls that there is a kirk at the bottom of that magical hill. Maybe they would know more. Determined to find out all he can to help his ancestor, he heads there.

#my writing #outlander fanfic #jamie and claire #cannon divergence #outlander fandom #guardians of the stones #a death

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psicomma-s-very-secret-lab · 5 years

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#Introducing ToSha

I've come to realize I've never said anything about Keisha and Tony. This ship was only born last summer but me and my friend have caught back a serious case of ToSha fever a few days ago so I'm taking this opportunity to introduce them properly.

*Keisha and Tony are part of a story yet unnamed that takes place a few days/weeks after the events of Blindsight. Tony actually has an active role in Blindsight since he's the handyman of the Nocenti family who wants Shaun, Chester and Ani dead. By that I mean he's taking care of all the dirty work. I don't wanna spoil Blindsight but Tony ends up more or less changing sides and betraying his family by making a bargain with Shaun to save Ani (they've got a hilarious bromance going on but that's another story)

*Tony is a smart guy. And also kind. His dad, Gene Nocenti, is a mafioso, his mom is a nurse and he's very close to her. He has a conflicted relationship with his brothers because he wasn't born from the same mother. Astero, the first born blatantly dislikes Tony and used to bully him when they were kids. Marco, the second born, is used to walk into Astero's footsteps, so he's mimicking his brother's animosity towards Tony without really knowing why. Silver, the youngest of the bunch (Tony's little brother) was the only one Tony could really get along with on his father's side. Tony was Silver's role model and they spent a lot of time together despite their differences.

*And then there's Keisha Romero. The prettiest girl on the block. The prettiest girl in all the fucking Bronx, some would say. Tony and Keisha have known each other since forever, they've been living in the same street since they were kids (Keisha with her parents, her grandma, her two sisters and her baby brother, and Tony alone with his mom) so they didn't see each other as a potential romantic interest at first, not at all. He was just a stupid guy heckling with the other boys on the block, she was just a bratty little miss know-it-all who thought she knew better because she was reading her dad's newspaper.

*Around 11-12 they started to see each other under a different light. Keisha was becoming prettier everyday, the boys were slowly beginning to notice it. Tony on the other hand stayed a scrawny stray cat for a long time, but never really felt self conscious about it. It's only around 15 he had the most epic glo-up, nobody understood what happened.

*Keisha always liked Tony. That's why she was always acting superior with him ; she was clumsy but all she wanted was for him to notice her. She liked him even before he got the glo-up and her friends would start giggling whenever he would pass by in the hallway. It's also probably the reason why she would dismiss all the boys who would be bold enough to ask her out. At 15, Keisha had the reputation of a virgin warrior princess in high school. She was seen as unreachable. One day Tony's friends dared him to ask her out, he didn't want to do it, but the boys pushed him and turned that into a bet "if she says yes you win 50 bucks! But I guess we'll never know cause ya ain't even got the balls to ask her. "- Tony didn't like that. He liked Keisha and wanted to ask her out but that thing felt really wrong, she didn't deserve to be played. In the end Tony took the bet reluctantly ; cause he was 15 and you know how easily a young boy breaks under peer pressure.

*To everyone's surprise, Keisha said yes when Tony asked her out. Especially him. "Are you for real?" "Yeah but I gotta be home by 9 and you'll have to pick me up and walk me to my house after that." He was the only guy she wanted to go out with, but he had no idea. Tony won the goddamn 50 bucks, but he didn't give a shit. He had a date with Keisha, the prettiest girl on the block. But to him she was still bratty ShaSha ; he gave her that nickname when they were kids and she never liked it, so he never gave it up.

*They started dating and it was wonderful for like one month. He was her first date, her first slow dance, her first kiss (excuse me yes, this is a teen movie sorry I should've put a trigger warning) but rumours run fast and ShaSha quickly learnt about the bet. She was furious. She went to talk to him that afternoon where he was chilling with his friends in the yard and slapped him before he could even say a word. Then she dumped him in front of everyone, and left, still furious. Tony's friends were laughing at him but he didn't really care. He knew he wouldn't be hanging out with those fuckers anyway from now on. Keisha cried herself to sleep that night. Tony was also her first heartbreak.

*Keisha got over that heartbreak eventually. The next year, Tony found new friends, and his new friends were friends with Keisha's friends so they ended up forming a clique, eating together at lunch, etc. At first Tony and Keisha were avoiding each other, but everything went fine when she found herself another boyfriend and finally accepted Tony's excuses. They were hanging out again. They were closer than ever. Tony didn't mind that Keisha was dating another guy, he was happy for her. But on the other hand, Keisha wasn't as happy as she claimed when Tony started to date Maria, a friend they had in common. She was jealous af. And she started idealising Maria and having self esteem issues. She broke up with her then bf shortly after that. The days passed and Tony and Maria were still together. Tony was treating her right, and Keisha was happy Maria found him cause she deserved it (the girl had a very difficult family situation, and a very tough life in general) but she couldn't help feeling jealous and she felt awful for that. He was really in love with her, and she hated it.

*When they were in senior year, Tony and Keisha's lives took separate paths. They both got accepted at Columbia university, and they were excited to go and to be able to see each other there, but things went down by the end of the school year : Maria got addicted to heroin, and Tony's mom was attacked by enemies of the Nocentis (cause Tony's mom is a nurse, that's how she met his gangster of a father. She still heals his men from time to time) and after all that Tony didn't feel like going to Columbia anymore. He couldn't leave his mom, he couldn't leave his girl.

*Keisha went to college and did very good. She liked the life on campus, and she liked to study. The life in Manhattan was nothing like in the Bronx, and she enjoyed that change. She felt like she could've gotten used to that. Everything was good as gold for her but nasty things were happening at the same time in the North of the city, in the streets where she had been growing up. Keisha's dad got sick, he was no longer able to walk, her kid brother, Joaquin, was becoming a troubled teenager, got arrested for theft and assault multiple times before the age of 14 and was sent to juvenile hall at 15. Maria had died from an overdose, and Tony was nowhere to be found. She didn't try to keep in touch with him ; when was silently blaming him because he chose to stay in the Bronx instead of going to uni with her. She understood her choice and didn't expect less of him, but she was mad, mad that he didn't give up everything to go with her.

*Keisha heard back from Tony at 23, when she was about to get her master's degree. She had a boyfriend, a PhD student from the same department as her, and everything was fine, until Tony reappeared. She agreed to meet with old friends from high school downtown, and Tony offered to pick her up so they'd go together. He knocked at her door, she opened, and all her feelings were brought back to life the second she saw him. It was a weird love at first sight ; falling instantly for someone you've always known. He was the same but he was different, it showed that he had grown out brutally from boyhood to become the man he was now. Also he was wearing a sleeveless hoodie, was visibly just going out from the gym cause his strong arms were glistening with sweat. She couldn't help but to stare like an idiot. He stared back at her "Campus life did you good ShaSha, you're beaming". It took like... One minute before things got completely out of hand and they ended up fucking each other's brain's out in Keisha's dorm room. They didn't know where that came from ; they hadn't seen each other in years, they had no idea what they were doing. They just knew they needed it, and that it felt good.

*Keisha had never been an 'easy girl'. The idea of sex always more or less repulsed her, and even though she had been dating a few guys since she was 15, she didn't lose her virginity before that day, with Tony. Once again he was her first, and it felt amazing cause that was exactly what she wanted. She knew she was cheating on her bf but she didn't care, cause Tony drove her completely crazy. What she didn't anticipate was the consequences of that raunchy afternoon spent on campus with her long time friend. Three weeks later she realised she was pregnant.

*Coming from a very Catholic family, and being the good and committed daughter that she is, Keisha renounced to abortion. She graduated with her bump starting to show. Her bf, thinking the kid was his, agreed to settle down with Keisha and help her raising the baby. They moved to South Carolina where he found a job as a teacher, Keisha gave birth to a beautiful boy that she named Noah, and they lived together for two years. They eventually broke up when Keisha confessed to her partner that he wasn't the baby's dad.

*Keisha went back to the Bronx only to find out the place she used to know had turned into a warzone. The Nocentis who had been protecting the neighborhood for decades were severely weakened now that the drug market had been stolen from them by an international cartel. Joaquin, Keisha's brother was out of juvenile hall and visibly not decided to go on the right track; he was now in bed with the local mafia.

*Tony was also irremediably on the wrong side of the fence at the moment. Keisha didn't want to know what he was doing exactly for his father and brothers, but the way people talked about him -the way they looked away when they mentioned his name- she knew it was probably bad. Very bad. When Tony saw Keisha coming back with her kid in her arms, he knew she would definitely always be out of his reach. He knew he was involved in very nasty shit, he didn't like or dislike his situation ; it was the way it was. He just knew it wasn't for her, he was ready to give up on her. He didn't understand why she came back. He had no idea he was the main reason.

*Shortly before the events of Blindsight ; Joaquin is killed by the Nocentis out of retaliation. Silver Nocenti is severely wounded after an altercation with an individual named Shaun Myers who happens to be closely related to the mortal enemy of the Nocenti family. Silver succumbed to his wounds a few days after that, in his hospital bed.

*When the 'Blindsight-extended-story-that-doesnt-have-a-name-yet' begins, Tony and Keisha are both mourning the loss of a younger brother, Keisha is doing money laundering for the Nocentis to pay back her brother's debts on top of breaking her back at the local diner to get money to feed her kid, while being blackmailed by Marco, Tony's older brother who's got his eyes on her. Tony is busy with the criminal stuff and the grief and the vendetta, and he doesn't know he's the father of Keisha's son. Ofc these idiots are still in love.

It's a mess but I think you got the pitch now *sweats nervously*

A cookie to anyone who managed to get to the bottom of this monster post without dying asphyxiated by all the fluff during the teen movie part at the beginning! 🍪

#ocs #blindsight extended #tony #keisha #tosha #when you think youve hit the bottom in terms of drama #but you're still digging!!#stupid lovebirbs #it will literally take them... like 18 years to finally get together #they make me cry #someone please cry with me

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marshmallowatheart · 6 years

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To All The Boys I've Loved Before (Part 16)

(1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) (9) (10) (11) (12) (13) (14) (15)

“Okay, what’s going on?” Logan finally asks, hands on the steering wheel and eyes on the road but he’s too well attuned with his surroundings to not notice the giggling kids in the back seat.

“Heather and Darrell are playing cupid,” Veronica remarks, chewing on a piece of liquorice as she twists around in her seat to get a look at the giggling duo.

“Cupidress,” Heather corrects. “Or well you could just go ahead and call me Aphrodite, the goddess of love.”

Logan chuckles, brows perking up, amused, “Alright, Miss Goddess of Love, who are you aiming your arrows at?”

Veronica tilts her head and informs him, “Nope, Cupid’s the one with the bow and arrow," she points directionless at him with her liquorice as he drives. "Aphrodite has a magic girdle.”

His lips curves, remarking, “Chill out Athena, I was talking to Aphrodite here.”

Veronica rolls her eyes, munching away, trying to focus herself on the scenery outside instead of the boy next to her. “Sure, Poseidon, get back to your mixed up mythical references.”

“Sheesh, someone’s testy this morning.”

“Not all of us can sleep through the car ride like Wallace here," she jerks her thumb in the direction of the back seat where Wallace is leaning his head against the window, snoozing away until they reach the zoo. "And I didn't get enough sleep last night."

"Thoughts of me?" He quips, batting his lashes. "Hey, I get it. Sometimes I’m up all night, just thinkin’ about myself.”

She resists the urge to smack his shoulder since he's driving and settles for making him regret his unwanted snark. "Actually I was baking a chocolate cake for us to have for dessert but guess who just cost himself a slice?"

Logan groans, he wants to look at her with pleading eyes but he doesn't want to take his eyes off the road for too many seconds. "C'mon, Veronica, don't I get credit for driving us all there?"

"Nope, you wanted to drive," she mercilessly points out.

"Heather asked me to drive," he retaliates. "Who am I to deny the kid her wish?"

Veronica sneers at the reminder. "I drive perfectly fine, thank you very much and if she had a such a problem she could have rode with Dad and Mrs Fennel."

"No!" Heather objects, almost leaping out of her seat to defend her choices but thankfully has on her seatbelt holding her down. "The whole point is that Dad and Alicia can have some alone time!"

"Oh," Logan lets out, comprehending who her two victims of love were.

"And she said you drive like you're in a NASCAR game," Darrell points out and Heather objects with a loud hey for the treachery. He shrugs, "That's what you get for sticking me with the middle seat."

"Urg!" Veronica huffs. "That happened once! And I thought we were being followed by the E-String Strangler. And maybe you shouldn't get any cake either."

"Who wants a piece of the leaning tower of Pisa anyway?" Heather snarks. "Besides we want ice cream for dessert, not cake."

Veronica lets out a long psshhttt sound and grumbles, "It goes down your throat the same either way."

--vm--

“We’re getting on the bus!” Keith eagerly says, map in hand, ready to go.

“Dad, no," Veronica whines, she's hungry and hot and wants to just sit and eat something - anything - before they start their journey from one end of the zoo to the other.

“It’s only half an hour Veronica. Half the zoo, half an hour," he emphasises like it's a bargain they can't possibly pass up on.

"I've got snacks," Alicia interjects and Veronica's eyes are drawn to the overly big beach bag that Alicia's carrying. "You can have some to tide you over until we can eat," she offers with a smile and Veronica eagerly accepts, looking at her best friend's mother like she's a savour sent from above.

"Sandwiches are life savers," Veronica hums happily, settling on the upper level of the double decker bus with Logan next to her. She admits, it is easier to take the bus but hunger takes precedence over everything else and Veronica's never been more grateful for Mrs Fennel.

Logan chuckles, nodding his head and stares at her adoringly. Yesterday while surfing he'd come to many revelations; one being that he's gonna show Veronica just how real they are. He's come to understand her a lot in their short time together and knows he can't lay out his feelings to her just yet.

She'd been firm in the fact that she doesn't want to date him and doesn't like him but he feels like that's changed - they've changed - in the sense that she does care about him, has fun with him, can be honest with him and maybe all these feelings were always there buried underneath the spells of her letter. And now he's opened the letter - broken the spell - he's seen her bared feelings and he wants to open her heart and see what's in there now.

She's been hurt, she has trust issues and she'd rather leave before she's left. She has all these pre-determined notions in her head and he's hoping he can deconstruct each one and in time she'll come to see him as he sees her.

So he's doing his best, showing her he likes her, showing her she can trust him and showing her that he's there - that he's going to be there. And he can see that she's doing the same even if she doesn't realize it yet.

“Ronica," Heather says, bright eyed as she turns from her seat in front of them. "Make sure to take out some good koala-ty pictures,” she giggles and nudges Darrell, who's looking excitedly at said Koalas and giggles along with her.

“Don’t worry, she’s got the koalafications,” Logan winks, instantly joining in before Veronica can make a snarky remark.

"And if she's underkoalafied, we just have to bear with it," Darrell outright laughs along with Heather, the two thoroughly enjoying themselves the moment they stepped out of their houses.

"So glad I could be of amoosement to you," Veronica remarks, straight-faced and seemingly exasperated. The kids giggle wildly and Logan chuckles, happy that she's not really upset and Veronica obligingly snaps shots of the Koalas hugging the trees and eating leaves.

"Guess what," Wallace leans forward in his seat, his head popping between Logan and Veronica, startling the couple.

"You've finally found where they're stashing the unicorns?" Veronica pipes, hope springing in her eyes.

"It's better than unicorns, Vee," he grins widely, suddenly full of energy unlike his earlier slumberly state.

"Damn, man," Logan chuckles. "You've got it bad."

"You would know," Wallace reproaches, nudging Logan with his shoulder from the back.

Logan peaks at Veronica and she shakes off his look. "Is this about Georgia?" She asks, brow arches, already knowing the answer.

He bobs his head. "She said she can meet me at the zoo. Isn't that great?"

"Ronica," Heather calls out once again. "Look," she says, pointing to an Orangutan swinging on the tree. "It's you!" She bursts out in giggles.

Veronica huffs. "Oh and look at that, you're right there next to me," she sticks out her tongue, unwilling to be defeated by her little sister.

"Who's the eleven year old, again?" Wallace chuckles, shaking his head.

"I'm eleven and a half," Heather points out, firm in the fact that she's not merely eleven anymore.

“Oh, hey, Heather, look it’s you,” Veronica smirks, gesturing to the Tasmanian Devil, a cheeky smug look on her face while Heather gasps.

“I happen to think it’s adorable,” Logan winks, earning Veronica a playfully triumph tongue out from Heather.

--vm--

Heather obsesses over getting a picture with everything. And more so, she obsesses over getting Logan and Veronica to take coupley pictures together whenever she sees coupley things. Like if two animals are being cute together or if there's statues that seem romantic - not that there are many - except maybe for this one particular statue. It's a statue of a sailor, dipping a nurse and kissing her full on the mouth.

Veronica hasn't denied her sister much but this is one of the things she simply cannot do and Heather whines, "C'mon, Ronica, it'll be so romantic! I mean you dragged Logan to the zoo and you can't even give him one kiss?"

Veronica gaps at her little sister. "You dragged Logan to the zoo and I'm not gonna kiss Logan like that here with dad right there! I'm not insane."

Heather concedes the point but she's not happy with it. "Urg, fine, but I still want a picture of you two with the statue. I need proof to send Meg that you actually have a boyfriend."

Veronica sighs, she's been meaning to tell Meg about Logan's new role in her life and now that everyone but Meg knows, she really doesn't have much of a choice.

She's standing next to Logan, their fingers laced with a camera ready smile in front of the statue as Heather snaps a picture and shakes her head, asking them to try another pose.

It takes three more tries before Heather is satisfied with one where they're gazing into each others eyes.

She leaves them be and turns to her father, begging him to let her take one out with him and Alicia.

Keith chokes back a cough while Alicia chuckles, accepting the request. Veronica's just glad that Heather didn't demand they kiss in front of the statue like she'd done with her and Logan.

--vm--

“I am a koalafied match-maker,” Heather brags, puffing out her chest and twirling around like the power of love has given her unreserved energy even though it's the end of the day and everyone else is exhausted.

“Oh, are you now?” Veronica arches her brow, she's holding Logan's hand and they're walking up a nearby park to set up a nice evening picnic. Alicia has prepared a variety of food and kept it in a warmer in the car along with a cooler filled with water and soda. They also have Veronica's homemade chocolate cake for dessert that Veronica's been coaxed into sharing with Logan. And Logan has somewhat been coaxed into getting ice cream for the two kids - three kids including Veronica.

"Mmmhmm," Heather hums, she's smiling wide, proud and again she's got that 'I know something you don't know' look on her face. "Just look at you and Logan.”

Veronica's hand tightens it's hold on Logan's. “Me and Logan?”

Heather notices the look on her sister's face and freezes, decidingly changing her mind from saying anything more because one, Veronica looks stricken and two, she doesn't know if Logan's supposed to know what she knows.

Veronica stares at her little sister, she's got a feeling that she needs to know what Heather knows so she lets go of Logan's hand and dashes after the now running girl. She feels an adrenaline rush hit her because it all makes sense if what she thinks is true, she just doesn't know why her sister would do that to her.

"Heather, get back here," she calls out, she's the star of the soccer team and she's beaten Heather many a times at racing so it's only a matter of time until she catches her.

Logan stays rooted in his spot, deep confusion spreading over his face as he watches the girls get further and further away, everyone else is setting up for their evening picnic and he wonders if he should leave them to it or catch up. The moment Veronica had tightened her grip on his hand, he'd felt the tension right to her fingertips.

Heather is hiding behind a tree, darting back and forth so Veronica can't grab her. "Okay, I was the one that sent out the letters," she admits, hoping her honesty gets her some mercy points with her sister.

“I’m gonna kill you, you little brat," Veronica lunges across and Heather darts away as quick as her small body allows.

“Oh, come on, Ronica, Logan’s the best thing that’s ever happened to you," Heather makes her plea. She can see the difference in sister's life; everyone in Veronica's life let her live in her comfort zone and Logan brought her out of it in a way that didn't seem all that uncomfortable and Heather figures that's a rare thing to have.

“Veronica," Logan calls out, jogging to the girls.

“You didn’t have to send out all five!" Veronica says as she thinks of how messed up everything has gotten with Duncan and how she's now keeping secrets from Meg.

Heather pouts, puppy eyes are out and her head tilts, just like she'd learned from Veronica and she slightly shrugs, “I thought five chances at a boyfriend were better odds.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Logan holds Veronica steady before she could once again dart to her sister and Heather quickly runs behind Logan. “What’s going on?”

“Veronica’s being totally irrational," Heather says, her adrenaline rush catching up to her.

“I’ll show you irrational," Veronica grunts, trying to move away from Logan but he wraps his arms around her and holds her tight against him with a soft but firm, hey - a hey that's reminding her that she's going attack mode on her eleven year old sister.

“She sent out the letters," she tells him, her anger slowly subsiding.

“Oh," he lets out a breath and loosens his hold on he see her face. "Well, you can forgive her since it worked out, right?” He gives her a pointed look.

“I just wanted you to be happy, Veronica," Heather softly admits.

Veronica sighs. “I wasn’t unhappy.”

“But you’re happier with Logan, right?” Heather peaks, still slightly behind Logan but now can visibly see her sister's facial reaction.

“Right," Veronica pats Heather's hair, softly, letting her know that she's forgiven. "But you owe me one."

Logan leans down to Heather when Veronica starts to to walk away, "Hey, kiddo, I owe you one," he winks and Heather brightens, all regret officially thrown out the window.

"You better not hurt her, Lo," Heather warns. "Especially not since you've got the Mars seal of approval."

He chuckles, rubs a hand over her head like Veronica had done. "I don't intend to," he softly says. "Thank you, Heather."

She bobs her head, smiles widely and drags him along to the picnic; she's glad she invited him.

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profgandalf · 3 years

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Fatherhood and FBI Agents of Robert Hanssen's Generation

I wrote this several years back in 2001, when my father was still alive. But I post it here to underline the nature of law enformcent officers in my experience:

My father, a retired special agent for the FBI, meets and stays in contact with other ex-federal or "government men" (Dad still prefers "g-men") on a list server developed by another former agent. Following standard FBI procedure--habits endure even after retirement--messages from this list server regularly end with the phrase "Privileged / Confidential Information May be contained in this Message." In some ways what I am about to share violates that confidentiality, drawn as it is from the private thoughts of members who once belonged to an agency well known for its official reticence. Yet, in light of some of the criticism aimed at the agency recently along with what feels to me to be a growing general, public mistrust of what motivates the average agent, it is a point of view I think should be exposed to the broader American public.

There is a common misconception that most individuals—be they soldiers, policemen, and or government agents—who develop the skills needed to use deadly force do so because they enjoy the rush of hot dogging. Recently, while reporting on the ongoing FBI espionage scandal which involved veteran agent, Robert Hanssen, US News and World Report quoted David Major, a retired FBI counterintelligence officer, as describing his and Hanssen’s generation of agents as members of a “cigar-chomping, door kicking” macho order (Duffy 24). I find this perception limiting and incomplete. My dad, a veteran of 24 years with the Bureau whose career centered around the urban New York City office from 1955-78 and who was a part of that same generation, never chomped on a cigar, but I did see him kick down a door--once. And the circumstances are telling.

In my childhood home, a solidly built Tudor in Long Island, NY, the second-floor was laid out in an L with the entrance hallway and stairwell located in the short line. The long line had two bedrooms, but--in an anomalous floor plan design I have not seen since--the second bedroom was reachable only via the first. Each bedroom was used by a sister. The older sister, Debbie, "guarded" the outer door, while Mary, three years younger, slept in the inner room. For anyone who has had, or sired, siblings this set up clearly has problematic privacy issues. Debbie controlled the only portal to Mary’s room, and “Debs” had the only door that could be locked. Thus, Mary found that the only way to assure the integrity of her personal space was to sometimes lock Debbie’s outer door and then retreat to her own room. One day Mary locked her sister’s door, and with her friend closed her own door to enjoy a private game of “Barbie.”

Downstairs the visiting girl’s parents and my family were enjoying one another’s company when they noticed the girls had been missing for quite a while. They soon found, with the help of a frustrated Debbie, the locked door, but as hard as they knocked and as loud as they shouted, no response came from inside: no music, no chatter, just silence. Furthermore, that room being on the second floor, there was no way to check through any available windows. To this day, we don’t know why the girls did not hear us, probably lost in the world of pink corvettes, miniature fashions and plastic boyfriends. However, Dad, fearing some unknown tragedy, took two steps back, braced himself, and with a hard strike, kicked the door down. In a moment he rushed in, only to find Mary and her friend wide-eyed in fear and surprise but completely safe. Debbie's door, meanwhile, was never lockable again until my parents sold the house nearly ten years later.

I don’t tell this family story to embarrass Dad, although he blushes whenever this comes up. I tell it to illustrate a basic quality that does not seem to be coming up in the various descriptions of the men who served in Mr. Hanssen’s generation. Certainly, Dad was capable of using force—even deadly force. One of my prize possessions for years was one of his firearm's silhouette targets with a tight cluster of bullet holes around both the figure’s heart and head. But Dad’s use of force was centered neither on a macho lifestyle nor in a game of cops, robbers and spies: Dad kicked down the door because he thought Mary was in trouble. He and the men with whom he served (women, then, had not yet gained access to the bureau) were committed to protecting and preserving the society that in turn protected and preserved their families.

Furthermore, my father was typical of agents in his generation in their commitment to theirs and other's families. He once told me that the one case that could galvanize an entire office was a kidnapping case. Other agents would stop their own investigations to help the agent assigned the task. They were all fathers, and they knew the clock was running on a child's life. In addition, when asked about what was the outstanding moment of his FBI career, my dad, who still proudly displays a wall lined with commendations signed by J. Edgar Hoover, says it was the night he could put down the phone, turn to a pair of terrified parents, and tell them that their child was safe.

When the story of Robert Hanssen's betrayal came out--and by the way, it is notable to me that in a society in which so many seem to plead “not guilty” even when overtly caught, Hanssen ended the affair quickly with an admission--I avoided the topic in my regular emails to Dad. I knew that the subject would be upsetting. I've watched his pain, faced as he has been, by the general cultural debasement of Hoover to whose memory he still remains in many ways loyal. I also knew that everyone else, friends and family, would be asking the retired but passionate man what he thought of the whole scenario. So I left it alone.

For his part, Dad occasionally forwarded emails to me from the g-men list server maintained by former FBI agents. There were comments of self-re-assurance and pride. One was especially ironic considering the suspect’s and my dad’s strong religious feelings: “Even Jesus, after hand picking his twelve, still had a Judas.” But in it all, I could sense that there was a pained gritting of teeth behind the ironic smiles. As I read about Hanssen, his role as a father has come up again and again. I thought of the times I had seen FBI agents as fathers.

While growing up, I occasionally accompanied my dad to “firearms,” practice where I also saw other children with their FBI dads. I even sometimes fired a weapon myself--like the time I learned that shooting a sawed-off shot gun is more like aiming a hose than firing a pistol. I came away with both a profound sense of their power and of them not being toys. On the other hand, the Styrofoam containers used for storing rounds of ammo, found everywhere on the firearm compound, made great toy blocks and because they floated, toy boats. Never was I allowed to forget the difference between toys and not toys: I remember "the talk" when Dad sat me down, like Harrison Ford in Witness,and clearly explained that his gun was not and nor would ever to be used as, a plaything. That speech--filled with serous, imminent threat and protecting, abiding love--was echoed by other agent-fathers all around the firearms' compound. Their fierce warnings heard amidst the single pistol shots and thundering, rhythmic automatic fire of men sharpening their skills with deadly force. And then, years later, I became a dad too and found myself under a different kind of fire.

My first son, Andy (the 4th) was born with a trachea and esophagus fistula, called a TEF baby by all the doctors and nurses who now filled my life. His neck dead-ended while his breathing tube was directly connected to his eating pipe. Massive surgery in Rhode Island’s children’s hospital saved his life, but my wife, Loretta, and I began the long journey traveled by so many parents who sit by bedsides holding the hands of little ones who suffer in innocence. Part of our burden was lightened by the McDonald House program. And it was while staying at the Providence Ronald McDonald House that I saw for the last time FBI agents from my father’s generation.

Three men representing the FBI Foundation arrived to present a large donation to the head of the Providence Ronald McDonald House. Thinking of that experience, I wrote this email in response to those he had sent on about the Hanssen affair:

Dear Dad:

With all the news about the alleged treason committed by an FBI vet, I was wondering how you were doing. I got my answer with the last few emails you sent me.

I thought the points made by the other G-men and women were good and important reminders of the bureau's right to still be proud. Still, I couldn’t help but sense the wincing within the correspondence—a general suffering from the sting that something like this could happen in the bureau at all. I know that for you, the FBI was not only a law enforcement agency: it was a fellowship of men who believed that the good of the society within which they, and their families, lived was important enough to defend. I know that you weren’t alone in this perception.

It’s been years since this happened, but while the news was breaking about this case of espionage, I thought of how you and your fellow agents came to the Rhode Island Ronald McDonald House to give a large donation to the McDonald program partly because of the extraordinary service they had given Andy after his birth.

I don’t recall where Loretta was, but I believe I, you and the other men

ate together somewhere for lunch. I recall being struck by how similar they were to you. You were all about the same age--graying if still fit.

You all still wore the same "regulation" trench coat over your suits in the manner that I recall so well from my childhood. Some wore tan; some wore navy-blue, but it was in all in a similar mode. (I, myself, wear something like it today. I like to let my London Fog© flow out behind me on windy days, but I'm not the same. I suspect that the tweed jacket and the tummy-warming sweater of an English professor would not have met with Mr. Hoover's approval.)

I can't recall the conversation, but I remember thinking that you all shared qualities besides those of style. I picked up that the dominant political tone was conservative (I don't even recall who was president at the time). There were shared bits of knowledge sometimes expressed in an unintentional code of past experience: numbers relating to weapons or details of some past case. And I was keenly aware of my greenness among such old warriors.

And yet there was one other quality I recall. I don't know if I was right. But I thought I sensed that they, like you, were all fathers and grandfathers. Thus, the purpose of being a warrior was not the quality of danger and action in the lifestyle, it was the quality of life which you defended. As young as I felt back then, I also felt quite comfortable.

One detail from the present case which hurts is that this man is the father of six. He, like you and they (and me) is a father. If he is guilty, I wonder where he lost the vision of what it was he, a part of an elite group of warriors, was defending.

Your Loving and Thankful Son,

Dad not only confirmed to me that they were all indeed fathers but thought this letter worthwhile enough to send to the former agent listserver with an explanation of the events and even the names of the agents to whom I had vaguely referred. Later he forwarded me some of the responses. They confirm what I thought I knew. For privacy’s sake I have suppressed their names, but there seems to have been a strong sense of something that needed to be said.

One former agent wrote that the theme of the family speaks “volumes that we need to hear to get through this tragedy.” Another said “The letter placed the Hanssen matter in its' proper perspective and put into words those values which we all cherish.” Another agent went in a slightly different if related direction saying that the letter's reminder of the family as motivation for all that generation “causes me concern for Hanssen's children. That family surely needs our prayers.” This perspective, surprising to some, was not unique; these former agents, these warriors, continued to think of and care about even the family of the one who had failed them all. One agent especially articulated this concern:

I can’t believe what this man has done to his family! It is unlikely that his wife will be able to collect any of the monies that he has paid into his government pension. That will probably be frozen by the government. As a result, the family will likely lose their house, cars, ability to pay college tuition. . .everything! He has undoubtedly been fired by now, so the family loses their insurance coverage, not to mention his salary. Add to this whatever fees Plato Cacheris and Co. [Hanssen's defense team] will charge them to represent this monster. . .My Lord, what a mess! Talk about innocent victims. . .I hope we all go back to our families this evening and hold them very, very tight.

These letters express what does not seem to be coming up in all the ongoing coverage about the agency nor its people. For the agents of my father’s generation the protection of the society was an extension of the protection of their own and everyone else’s children. I suppose we have all heard of criminals who were devoted family figures. However true (and I question this), I want to make it clear that I am not just trying to show that FBI agents were merely good family men.

What I am trying to express is that there was in most of them a direct connection to what they did in the field to their familial responsibilities. People who are devoted to their families can be selfish and savage to others outside of their unit. However, these men tempered their lifestyles, worked to uncover evil, and used even their deadly force because they were family men. Are there exceptions? Of course. But that’s what they are—unusual.

Much of the negative portrayals of members of the FBI (and other military and law-enforcement organizations), come, I think, from the belief held by many that individuals whose service to this nation includes learning how to use deadly force must be inherently evil. They forget that people raised in cultures of familial importance will, even as tough individuals, be motivated by the need to protect rather than to play with dangerous and expensive toys. Oh sure, the FBI agents of my father's generation were macho; they could kick down doors; they could chew cigars, but that was not what defined them nor should it define our attitudes towards them or any other member of our police or armed forces. We need to distance our perspective from the shaping forces of Hollywood action adventure heroes. One agent wrote simply “Thank you for this email. I cried.” Major’s definition is wrong by omission. What a difference it makes in one’s mind to think of the above agent weeping for, and over, families--even if he is chomping on a cigar as he does so. Did he? I don’t know; however, there were tears of relief in my father’s eyes when, after kicking down the door, action-adventure he found my little sister and her friend safe.

Works Cited

Duffy, Brian. “Spy vs. Spy” U.S. News and World Report. 20 Feb. 2001: 24-25.

If done today using MLA:

Works Cited

Duffy, Brian. “Spy vs. Spy” USNews.com. 25 Feb. 2001 Web.4 Oct. 2012.

If done today using APA:

References

Duffy, Brian. (25 Feb. 2001). Spy vs. Spy. ” USNews.com. Retrieved from

http://www.usnews.com/usnews/news/articles/010305/archive_004809_6.htm

#law enforcement #family #betrayal

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sundayswithsarah-blog · 4 years

Text

Whatever your political affiliation, I really find the love story between Lee Kuan Yew and Kwa Geok Choo to be truly romantic - the life-long kind of love that's so rare these days.

He would not have been who he ended up being, if not for her unwavering, caring love and support. And he was never the same after her passing.

Here are excerpts from his eulogy for her, which I've merged with a little bit from an article on how LKY was like in the time after.

____

"My wife and I have been together since 1947 for more than three quarters of our lives. My grief at her passing cannot be expressed in words. But today (Wednesday), when recounting our lives together, I would like to celebrate her life

...

As a young man with an interrupted education at Raffles College, and no steady job or profession, her parents did not look upon me as a desirable son-in-law. But she had faith in me.

We had committed ourselves to each other... We gradually influenced each other's ways and habits as we adjusted to and accommodated each other.

...

We knew that we could not stay starry-eyed lovers all our lives; that life was an on-going challenge with new problems to resolve and manage.

...

We never argued over the upbringing of our children, nor over financial matters. Our earnings and assets were jointly held. We were each other's confidant.

She had simple pleasures. We would walk around the Istana gardens in the evening, and I would hit golf balls to relax. Later, when we had grandchildren, she would take them to feed the fish and the swans in the Istana ponds. Then we would swim.

...

She had an uncanny ability to read the character of a person. She would sometimes warn me to be careful of certain persons; often, she turned out to be right.

When we were about to join Malaysia, she told me that we would not succeed because the Umno Malay leaders had such different lifestyles and because their politics were communally-based, on race and religion.

I replied that we had to make it work as there was no better choice. But she was right. We were asked to leave Malaysia before two years had passed.

...

After her first stroke, she lost her left field of vision. This slowed down her reading. She learned to cope, reading with the help of a ruler. She swam every evening and kept fit. She continued to travel with me, and stayed active despite the stroke. She stayed in touch with her family and old friends.

She listened to her collection of CDs, mostly classical, plus some golden oldies. She jocularly divided her life into "before stroke" and "after stroke", like BC and AD.

...

Her second stroke on 12 May 2008 was more disabling. I encouraged and cheered her on, helped by a magnificent team of doctors, surgeons, therapists and nurses.

...

Her nurses, WSOs and maids all grew fond of her because she was warm and considerate. When she coughed, she would take her small pillow to cover her mouth because she worried for them and did not want to infect them. Her mind remained clear but her voice became weaker. When I kissed her on her cheek, she told me not to come too close to her in case I caught her pneumonia. When given some peaches in hospital, she asked the maid to take one home for my lunch. I was at the centre of her life.

On 24 June 2008, a CT scan revealed another bleed again on the right side of her brain. There was not much more that medicine or surgery could do except to keep her comfortable. I brought her home on 3 July 2008. The doctors expected her to last a few weeks. She lived till 2nd October, 2 years and 3 months.

She remained lucid. That gave time for me and my children to come to terms with the inevitable. In the final few months, her faculties declined. She could not speak but her cognition remained. She looked forward to have me talk to her every evening.

Her last wish she shared with me was to enjoin our children to have our ashes placed together, as we were in life.

The last two years of her life were the most difficult. She was bedridden after small successive strokes; she could not speak but she was still cognisant. Every night she would wait for me to sit by her to tell her of my day's activities and to read her favourite poems. Then she would sleep.

I have precious memories of our 63 years together. Without her, I would be a different man, with a different life. She devoted herself to me and our children.

She was always there when I needed her. She has lived a life full of warmth and meaning.

I should find solace in her 89 years of a life well lived. But at this moment of the final parting, my heart is heavy with sorrow and grief."

____

After her passing... LKY missed his wife deeply.

"For a week after his wife died, Mr Lee Kuan Yew fussed over her photographs on the wall of the living room at their Oxley Road home.

He placed pictures of their favourite moments together at the foot of his bed and by the treadmill which he used every day. A few days later, he would move them around again.

He repositioned his grey plastic chair at the dining table to have the best view of her pictures on the wall. As he ate his dinner, he listened to classical music, which she enjoyed - her favourite composer was Johann Sebastian Bach.

But nothing seemed to comfort Mr Lee in the days after Madam Kwa Geok Choo, his wife of 63 years, his best friend and confidante, died on Oct 2, 2010.

He slept erratically. A memory would bring tears to his eyes. When her ashes arrived at Oxley Road in a grey marble urn three days after the funeral, he wept.

It took three months before he began returning to normal.

"Slowly, he accepted that Mrs Lee was gone," said his youngest and only surviving brother, Dr Lee Suan Yew.

It was nine months before his health stabilised, said his only daughter Wei Ling.

...

He would usually get home at around 9pm and he would spend a few moments looking at his wife's urn in the living room.

He kept to his new routine in the disciplined way with which he had led his life. But he told his friend Dr Schmidt, who visited in May 2012, that his wife's death had left a deep hole in his life and nothing could fill it.

After Mrs Lee died, elder son Hsien Loong, the Prime Minister, and his wife Ho Ching began visiting Mr Lee on Saturday afternoons whenever their schedules allowed, to keep him company.

...

Throughout, Mr Lee kept up his Mandarin lessons, and continued his exercises and outings. Titanium, as his daughter once described him in an article, is light but strong. It can bend a little, but it will not snap unless it is under overwhelming force, she wrote.

On Feb 5, he was admitted to the Singapore General Hospital, this time with severe pneumonia.

News in mid-March that he was critically ill saw an outpouring of good wishes across the island he loved and called home."

___________

A story shared by a Singaporean who bumped into them at a museum:

"He requested to push his wife. And even in his weakness and old age at that point in time, I saw him struggle to push his wife in her wheelchair. They stopped at almost every painting (I followed them behind, keeping my distance and pretending to look at those paintings too). And at every painting, he would bend down and asked her gently for her thoughts. They would share a quiet moment of discussion, and sometimes laughed together. It felt like no one else was around, and they felt very much still in love."

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amaintainedrisk · 5 years

Text

i'm sorry if anybody is worried about me.

I think the most disturbing thing about the century is that I’m not even scratching the surface about what has been going on around here and what my family has been doing to me but I don’t have it in me to tell everything right now. It’s going to have to wait until this headache passes.

Still don't have a phone. The abuse has gotten so much worse and I cannot get anyone to help me. My mother and my aunt have done nothing but torture me since my grandmother died and taking it out on me. I've spent the last three months locked away in my room, and I'm lucky if I eat once a day. They have turn the Internet off so I can't use my iPad to tell anybody or talk to anyone to tell them about this. The only reason I can update right now is because I waited for my mother to leave and I want and ask my neighbor for her Wi-Fi password. She was kind enough to let me use her Wi-Fi.

One of the reasons the abuse has gotten so much worse is because my grandmother completely destroyed her house and we didn't know it. We were trying to clean it up but we didn't have time and they gave us an evection notice and now we are being sued for the damages my grandmother left. They have been taking their frustration out on me. My medicine has been stolen over and over again and I can't tell my nurse because I'll get put into a group home with people who have mental illnesses and don't take their meds. there have been reports of people being attacked there and I'm blind and can't defend myself. I know I'm being abused here but it's the evil I know. At least hear there's no chance of me being sexually assaulted again like at the Cleveland clinic.

Today alone on my mother has done is scream at me and tell me I'm worthless and how much life for her would've been better if I had been born. How much she loves my aunt and my cousins more than me. How much easier it's going to be for everyone once I'm gone. I've spent all day in my room crying while they told me this and laughing. I would not let them in my room but that didn't stop them from doing it outside the door. They wanted me to hear. I have always known he hated me and considered me a burden but whenever they get stressed out they take it out on me. Now because of what my grandmother did to her house, we might get sued and obviously we don't have the money. So it's been taken out on me and for two months straight it's just been me at the age of 32 years old being locked in my room all day long. Some days I don't even go down to eat. It has gotten so much worse since my grandmother died and that's why I haven't said anything because I'm so tired of giving bad news and talking about how much my family hurts me.

even worse, my mother seizure condition has gotten worse so I have to listen to her tell me I'm worthless every day and then turn around and take care of her at night. So she doesn't throw up in her sleep or swallow her tongue. I'm barely getting any sleep and it's worse when I don't have my meds because they're being stolen and again, if I report them, I'll get put in a group home with people who could really, really hurt me. my mother has been screaming at me all day and I can tell she starting to have a seizure so I have another long night ahead of me of taking care of the person who told me recently that if I had a heart attack and died. She would be happy. I actually recorded a bunch of stuff my mother said to me, about how I deserve to be beaten when I was a little kid and I recorded her laughing at me when I fell and hurt myself and I uploaded it all to my vineo Account. I password-protected The videos because they are embarrassing and I didn't want anybody but my friends to hear it. The password for all of my password-protected videos is just my name: "dani" without the quotes.

to make matters worse, my health has been declining as well. As my brain sinks down into my spinal cord, I am now myself having seizures. It means I've entered the last stage of my condition. but I have to suffer through my seizures alone. No one will help me so I just collapse alone in my room and wake up whenever it's over by myself and if I say something I get called a liar and that I'm making a big deal out of nothing. I'm terrified one day soon I'm going to have a seizure and I'm not gonna wake up and I'm just going to be laying up you're dead for weeks because no one will check on me. It scares me the most for Carly because I don't want him to starve to death because nobody knows to feed or water him because I'm not allowed to do it. The doctor told me I had less than two years to live in June and I've spent the last seven months alone and dealing with this by myself and knowing the end is coming and my life has been completely wasted and I can't do anything about it now without making it worse on myself. I don't want to die in a homeless shelter or being assaulted in a group home, Which my social worker has said there have been reports of in every group home in this area.

I had to stop typing this because my mother came upstairs to pick a fight with me and told me she hates me and she loves my aunt and my cousins more and she doesn't care that they abused me. They are her family and I am not . I'm her worthless burden daughter who does nothing but disappoint her. And I'm going to have to take care of this woman all night to make sure she doesn't swallow her tongue or throw up in the middle of the night. I don't have my medicine. I won't be able to sleep and I haven't eaten today and I'm having my own seizures but I have to take care of my mother because if she doesn't have me she will die in her sleep and it will be all my fault and then that would make me no better than her. I am not my family. I may be a burden and yes, it would've been better if I wasn't born but I'm here now and I'm not going to do to them what they do to me every day. I even put up a video of my mother telling me I deserved to be beaten at the age of three years old because I left the room. It's on my vineo.

do you see why I haven't updated? Nobody should have to sit through my whining and crying about the same old thing again. About a 32-year-old woman who is being abused and letting it happen. I've been waiting six months for a new phone and now the Internet is gone so i've beensk for my neighbors Wi-Fi password and I am praying she doesn't tell my mother she gave that to me. I couldn't ask her not to say anything because that would've drawn too much attention to it and probably would've screwed me over even worse. so I have the Internet again now… Kind of. It's really spotty. But it's better than nothing.

Another reason I didn't want to update is because I know that Monsie and Christina would ask me to move in with them. and I can't with my health declining so much. I cannot ask my friends to literally be my nurses aids. Especially now that I'm having seizures and I've entered stage four. It is going to be much worse later on if I don't want to spend the last few months I have being a burden on me only two people who care about me and don't abuse me. I refuse to do that I will slowly lose my functions and I am not going to be some unholy burden that… I can't even say because it's so embarrassing. Let's just say the symptoms, near the end, we're going to make me lose control of every single one of my functions. if that wasn't the case I would leave in a second because I am getting just so fed up with life but I'm just having thoughts of ending it every day. Not because of the physical pain but because of the mental pain of being told I'm so unloved and worthless and a burden. The mental pain of knowing my life has been a waste and at the end I'm going to die unhappy and alone. Never experiencing love or life of any kind and Diane a complete failure of a human being. I have tried so hard to get away from these fucking people but I can't without hurting myself more. my grandfather is dying now too and I can't even see him. I have no family here because my mother has told every family member that I have left a bunch of lies about me so they think I'm a horrible person too. They don't know that I spend almost every night sitting by my mother's bedside making sure she doesn't die from her seizure, only to be told I'm worthless and hated all day the next day. The only reason I ran for my neighbors Wi-Fi today is because today it has been particularly hard and abusive and it's caused me to have two seizures today alone. I'm so tired of all of this and I'm just ready to die already because there's no point in staying. Last night at 6 AM after I was done with my mommy duty and watching her over her I just laid in bed and cried and raised my arms and screamed out please help me to a God I don't even believe in. yelling out to the ceiling for someone to hold me and tell me I'm not worthless I'm not a burden. To tell me I'm loved. To tell me not to be scared to die because I won't have to die alone and my life hasn't been a waste. But of course my pleas went

unheard. I am so tired of my mother choosing my aunt over me after all I have done for her and I would do anything to get away from her but I'm out of options, especially with no phone and now no Internet except for the spotty Wi-Fi.

So that's why I didn't update. I had no Internet but even if I did, what good would it have done? It's just the same thing every day. I am so alone and so broken and so scared and it's my own fault because of the age of 32 I shouldn't be allowing this to happen. I'm so ashamed of my family, and of myself. if I could find somewhere to go that would take my Medicaid and a doctor would treat me, and it wasn't a homeless shelter or group home and it wasn't where I would be a burden to my friends, I would go in a heartbeat. in a heartbeat. but I can't find a place like that. My aunt stole my great grandmothers rings when I was in the hospital and my mother knows it. It happened years ago but today she brought it up again and said she didn't want to hear me talk about her stealing it because she's sick of me picking on my aunt for little things. Stealing family keepsakes given to me by a family member that died when I was 12 that I deeply loved isn't very little but she said I was a bad person for bringing it up. My aunt isn't bad for stealing it but I'm a bad person for talking about her stealing it and it just got worse from there when she started talking about all the ways she cares more about my aunt than me even though my aunt treats her like shit as well and refuses to help her. Even though she knows I'm the one taking care of her all night long she still packs my aunt over me and all I heard about today is how I'm not part of the family and how everyone has always been sick of me.

Yeah, this whiny shameful update really needed to happen. It's just the same abusive shit that has just gotten so much worse since my grandmother died. I was hoping it would get better but I was completely wrong and completely stupid for even thinking that. Of course it got worse.

And again my mother is now outside the hall so I have to whisper. She's faking a phone call to somebody or she actually is talking to somebody and she's doing it loud enough for me to here so I can hear her telling them all these lies about things I said or did today that I never did or said just because she wants me to suffer because she stressed out and wants to take it out on me.

… It's been 35 minutes since I wrote that last line. I just had another seizure. The stress is literally killing me faster and I don't know what to do. If I tell on them I go to a place that's extremely dangerous and a blind person cannot defend themselves like that. I'd rather be yelled that van raped or beaten, the way people have been in there Group houses that are my only option. I looked up news reports and police reports and they are just not safe so I have to put up with this.

if you can see this or read this, thank you for your friendship because it's the only thing that has kept me going even though I haven't talk to you in months. You are all I think about and you were the only reason I have ever felt loved in my life. without you I would be dying never knowing what love felt like at all so at least you gave me back and for that I am so grateful and I miss you so much. thank you for being my friends. I'm about to go to bed tonight feeling alone and hated by my family. Going to cry myself to sleep wondering why my mother loves my aunt more than me to the point where she's happy that my aunt abused me. It's going to break me and give me nightmares like it does every night. But every morning I wake up and think of you and I hold on and I would give anything to be with you right now if only I would be such a burden. You can try to text my iPad. Hopefully I will get it now that I have Wi-Fi but my phone is completely a no go. I miss you guys so much and I love you so much and I'm so fucking sorry for being a bad friend and for once again doing nothing but whine and complain. I don't deserve you but I'm so glad to have you anyway. I love you.

I love you.

this is the link to my Vimeo Page:

https://vimeo.com/user79298455

although I just noticed that I don’t think the password-protected videos are listed so I have to post each link one by one down here. I’m not asking anyone to listen to all of them. Or even one of them. I just put them up here so I can document the way my mother treats me so people know I’m not making it up or lying when I say my mothers abusive. The password to each video is the same one: dani

Deserved to be beaten

https://vimeo.com/300103444

Mental and physical

https://vimeo.com/300103444

when they abuse me, it’s to protect my feelings

https://vimeo.com/297632955

worthless

https://vimeo.com/270006846

nervous breakdown

https://vimeo.com/266402098

0 notes

common-mushroom · 7 years

Note

So I saw you were doing fanfics- I have a couple ideas for you to pick and choose from (FYI: I've never really given prompts like this so these may be horrible. I apologize lol) 1) Harvey nervously preparing for -his ten heart event 2) that same event with he and a female farmer with him freaking out - cause nervous/blushing Harvey freaking out is my shit. 3) Pam and Shane's sassy drunken commentary on the other saloon goers.

I like these prompts! Nice to see a Harvey-related one for once LOL. Since these are short fics I’ll just write them here!! Enjoy~~

1. Harvey hung up the phone carefully; it was done. At last, he allowed himself to release the breath he’d been holding in his chest. Holy shit, this was actually going to happen. His heart was still rapidly drumming. Breathe in, breathe out. His therapist had said that it was most important for him to stay grounded, to find something concrete and focus on it. He chose the calendar directly in front of him--aviation-themed, of course--and smiled to himself at the irony of it all. The doctor needs a doctor. Who would have thought? Harvey shook his head. Without wasting another moment, he fished around in his desk until he found a proper piece of stationery. With a shaking hand, he began to draft his message. There was no turning back now.

Making the trek to the upper mountains of Pelican Town was no easy task. As it were, Harvey was having trouble simply keeping up with the women in his aerobics class; he had no idea how he was going to pull this one off. He surprised himself with how he had been able to hold it together until this point; he’d worked with Evelyn to get a home-cooked meal prepared, and he’d successfully tucked it away in a nice picnic basket that she’d lent him. Maru, who’d noticed the farmer’s increasing (non-medical) visits at the clinic over the past few months, was even nice enough to give him some pointers for their first real date. It had been so long since a woman had showed interest in his strange set of hobbies; he nearly fainted from shock when the farmer said she thought his model planes were cool. It seemed as though he was only able to stay sane because of the distractions and help that the other villagers had provided. Thank God for living in such a closely-knit town.

With the aid of his inhaler and an extra-large bottle of water, Harvey successfully hiked his way to the highest point within city limits, just where they’d agreed to meet. His legs were soft as pudding, as if suddenly the weight and severity of the situation had literally pressed itself upon his shoulders. Even with his thick spectacles, he had trouble seeing far away, so it was only after squinting for several seconds that he noticed the farmer in the distance, working her way towards him. Harvey swallowed a lump in his throat. He suddenly needed to relieve himself. Not. Fucking. NOW. He wiped sweat from his brow and prayed she wouldn't be disgusted with him. He supposed, logically, that if she didn’t leave when she caught him at the aerobics class, she wouldn’t be leaving now, but it was only a small comfort.

As if on cue, the hot air balloon that he’d rented drifted slowly downward, and it landed softly next to him as the farmer approached. He blushed beet red.

2. After all this time, Harvey still felt clumsy as hell around the new farmer. She’d forgiven him, it seemed, for all of his awkwardness, and for that he was thankful. Now that they had risen 5, 10, 15, 20 feet in the air, it dawned on Harvey that this was, indeed, happening...he was on a date, with the farmer. And they were getting up really, REALLY high. He was beginning to sweat, and he wondered to himself if it was the anxiety from the girl or the height. Regardless, he had lost his appetite. The farmer tried to be sweet and pop a grape into his mouth, but he was having none of it. He stood up before he could stop himself, and leaned over the edge of the balloon. Looking down at the valley below, his stomach dropped further.

“I think....I’m going...to be sick.” He panted. The farmer, understandably concerned, rose quickly and put an arm around him.

“Hey, it’s going to be okay. Get sick, if you have to.” She rubbed his back. In spite of himself, Harvey felt a warmth spread to his cheeks. Harvey took a few deep, shaky breaths. He was almost too ashamed to explain himself...almost. He turned towards her, but did not allow himself to look at her face.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m such a fraud. I was trying to be romantic, but this just turned out completely wrong. I thought I could just push through my fear, but I guess I’m not ready yet.” He strained to swallow the bile rising in his throat.

“Don’t apologize, Harvey. Really. This was the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me.” The farmer smiled. “And honestly, as much as I dislike you being in pain, you’re pretty cute when you’re nervous.” Harvey flushed a deeper shade of crimson.

“Great.” He muttered.

“I’m not going anywhere, you know. I’m going to make sure I see the day when we can come up here again and you’ll actually enjoy it.”

Harvey at last met the farmer’s gaze. To his surprise, her eyes were burning with passion. His stomach did backflips, and not from the height this time. She took a step towards him, and suddenly, floating in the middle of the air was the last thing on his mind.

3. Shane just began nursing his third beer of the night when the saloon’s doorbell chimed. In waltzed none other than the tricky trio: Abigail, Sam, and Sebastian, just in time for their Friday night children’s games. From across the counter, he and Pam exchanged knowing looks. He ambled his way over to her just as she received her own drink of choice, a caramel porter. They ran into the game room, whooping and laughing as they went.

“You know, sometimes I don’t feel that old, but whenever those three come in, my bones start to creak,” Pam quipped. She took a generous swig from her beverage. “Sit down, kid.”

“I’m no kid compared to them. I doubt they’re even old enough to drink.” Shane took up Pam’s offer anyway and slid onto a stool next to her.

“Sebastian just told me the other he would have graduated college two years ago, had he actually went.” Emily chimed in, pouring a drink for another customer.

“Just go with it.” Shane sighed. Emily raised an eyebrow.

“Sheesh. Maybe we need to get some food in you, to absorb that drink. Hey, Gus! Get a plate of chicken wings for this man over here!” Shane feigned horror.

“Hey! I have chickens as pets, you know.”

“Make that a plate of spaghetti instead!” Gus narrowed his eyes and disappeared into the kitchen. “The things i do for you, Shane.”

“You love me.” He managed a grin, but quickly stifled it beneath his cup. Emily giggled and sauntered away. For a moment, he completely forgot Pam’s presence. That is, until:

“Maybe you should take her out sometime. She’d show you a...good time.” Pam slurred.

“Oh, God,” Shane snorted. “I think it’s time we cut you off.”

“Not...yet!” She protested. The door chimed again, and Marnie and Lewis arrived arm-in-arm. Shane and Pam stared at them for a moment, and then at each other, before bursting into drunken laughter. They hurried to their usual corner of the bar and chatted quietly, assessing their surroundings as if nervous they’d be spotted.

“I wonder when they’ll realize that literally EVERYONE knows they’re fucking.”

“They know. They just like to sneak around. Gets them OFF.” Pam slammed a hand down on the counter, causing a surprisingly loud rattle. Marnie jumped and glared.

“Alright, that’s enough for you.” Emily glided over to Pam and confiscated her cup.

“Hey!”

“I’ll walk you home.” Shane said, rolling his eyes.

~~~So yeah those are just some lil quick things to answer the prompts! If anyone wants me to keep doing these, just shoot me messages on or off anon! Hope you all enjoyed :)

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