#so ill just post this real quick for valentine's!!
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a dream that dissolves upon waking
happy valentine's day!
#robin#grima#robin reflet almadel#grima kardia perezia#fire emblem#oc#fire emblem awakening#fea#fe13#gentle dragon au#divinities rend dreams#neosketches#fire emblem heroes#feh#i havent been able to work on the rest of the paintings series due to college#so ill just post this real quick for valentine's!!#hope everyones having a better year than me aha... haha
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WIP Report 12/7/2022
I don't really have anything for WIP Wednesday this week so I thought I'd at least do a quick status update.
Unfortunately though the status update is not super encouraging; the family has been on a revolving carousel of illnesses for what feels like forever now, so productivity has slowed in virtually every area. We have some birthdays that happen right around now on top of the holiday crazy, and there's just a lot going on. I don't like to vague post or personal info dump or seem like I'm asking for pity, because I know y'all understand putting family and real life first and are patient. I just like you to know what's going on.
So: Progress continues with ongoing projects, just very, very slowly. I'm struggling a bit with Indelible because this is the painful part of the story, and there's a lot of emotion and complicated feelings I'm working with. I'm in one of the moments where my habit of using a single limited POV is...well, limiting, and trying to convey through one character what is going on at a distance with another so that both of their emotional arcs make sense at the end is hard. Because of that I'm not rushing things, I want to work through it carefully so that the ultimate resolution will be satisfying and not hollow. I don't want to set up all this pain and then have everyone change at the snap of fingers and pretend it didn't all happen (oops, did it just get salty in here).
The stumbling block on Guard My Heart (other than time and Indelible) is working out how in depth I need to go to get from A to B in a satisfying way. The good news is I can do that kind of pondering during times like now when I can't actually put anything on paper, so hopefully by the time I can write I'll have that problem worked out. 😁
I am signed up for the Sprint Secret Santa, and I do plan to do the Valentines exchange this year, but I'm going to make every effort to keep those at or near their intended size so I don't add to my guilt load.
Otherwise I'm just playing it by ear, trying to do what I can. I'm not going to be sorry to see the end of 2022 I tell you wut.
I've also been terrible about leaving comments, even tag comments which I usually manage to be good at, or answering the kind things people have left for me. If you're as paranoid as I am, know that it's not because I hate your work or you personally, I'm just a super awkward person to begin with and I haven't had the mental energy to face down my awkwardness lately. I still appreciate all the lovely people keeping this fandom alive. 💜
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Say you’ll be mine (Ethan Ramsey x MC)
Open Heart, Ethan Ramsey x MC
A/N: Hi guys! How we feeling? We did it, fam, we finally got it. The myth, the legend, the 30 diamond scene. As always, I did a rewrite, putting my own spin on it because I am a hoe like that and I just couldn’t resist.
As you can probably guess, this piece is NSFW, proceed at your own risk.
Summary: Chapter 12 diamond scene rewrite. As the rain pours outside, their emotions and feelings bleed out of them too.
edit: don’t mind me, being a colossal dumbass that makes an edit and then forgets to put it into the post :)
Tag list: @paleweasels, @kittykatchoices, @valiantlychaoticbarbarian, @radlovedreamer , @usuallyamazinglyaverage, @awhmilkywey @palestazure, @cordoniaqueensworld, @universallypizzataco, @princess-geek, @faithhasnowords, @mightyfangirlofthefandoms, @drakewalkerfantasy, @timmagicktoad, @laceandlula, @greywitchyshots, @llamasgrl, @gingerjane15, @marywrites-things , @ethanplaysfavorites , @mfackenthal , @betelgeusebee , @simsvetements, @buzz-bee-buzz, @owleyes374, @cora-nova, @aworldoffandoms, @l822, @cream-ray, @ughhhxjazzy, @silverlitskies, @justendlesssummerfeels, @togetherwearerapture, @desmaranj, @edgiestwinter, @friedherringclodthing, @waytooattuned, @choicesgremlin , @lapisreviewsstuff, @the-soot-sprite, @writerapprentice, @chasingrobbie, @choicesobsessedd, @x-kyne-x, @thisperfectmemory, @drakewalker04, @rookie-ramsey, @jlynn12273, @thepinknymph @dr-brianna-casey-valentine, @a-i-n-a-a-s-h @justanotherrookie @mvalentine @starrystarrytrouble @akshara16 @maurine07 @natzz-b @aylamreads
Enjoy! <3
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Ethan steered the car towards the curb, right outside her apartment, rain falling aggressively from every direction. The warmth that surrounded them didn’t do anything for him, his entire body still feeling as though it was still in a freezing grip of panic that hasn’t left his side for days.
“Are you okay?” Claire’s voice broke through the thick mist that fell over his mind, pulling him into the reality that was like a breath of fresh air. Her forehead was creased with worry, her usually bright eyes now dull and pensive. “I don’t think I’ve asked you that yet.”
His breath was shaking when he replied. “No, you haven’t. And no.” he shook his head, trying to shake away the cold shiver that ran through his bones at the mere thought of what had happened only days ago. “I don’t think I am okay.”
“Danny and Bobby dying hit us all hard. I’m not sure how we can ever be okay with that.” She wondered, her voice small and empty. Ethan found himself shaking his head in disagreement, his own thoughts miles away from what she was talking about.
“It’s not them I’m worried about. It’s you.”
Unable to look her in the eye and let her see all the ghosts that haunted him, all the nightmares that he suffered from, he turned his head away from her. He felt the muscles of his face tense up as his head tried, once again, to deal with the anguish, the horrific images of the moments he realized that he’s come so close to losing her. He’s felt that way before, when he decided to spend the night with her, not knowing if she would wake up in the morning.
“When Naveen was sick, I could still focus on work.” Despite his best efforts to not dwell on the past, he couldn’t help the memory of his mentor and friend, dying as all he could do at the time was watch, the mysterious illness practically eating him alive. Even though it shook him to his very core, he still managed to wake up every morning and work as though nothing was happening. The very opposite thing was happening to him now. “But now… it’s entirely different. You’re sitting here, with me. You’re completely fine and healthy, nothing endangers you, and yet all I can think of is how terrified I was that I was going to watch you die.” He felt his throat close up with incoming tears, his voice dropping an octave as he fought to speak clearly. “That I’d never get to see you again. That you’ll never hear me say…”
She interrupted him, searching with her hand for his, the touch so small and careful that it might as well have not been there at all if it wasn’t for how tuned into her presence he was. He continued after a while, all of his thoughts and terrors spilling out of him as the dam broke once again.
“I keep worrying that if I lose track of you… if I leave you alone… that it could happen again. That I won’t have the power to stop it in time… to save you.”
“Ethan, I promise, I’m not going anywhere. I’m right here.” She squeezed his hand, looking at him with such certainty, hoping it would hold both of them up so they wouldn’t fall. Ethan looked at their joined hands, breathing in and out deeply, gathering courage to finally confess what’s been wandering his mind for weeks now, too afraid to come to light until now.
“All of it makes me realize that I just… don’t want to hide anymore. I don’t know how much time we have together. All I know is that I don’t want to waste a second of it on worrying what other people might think.”
Claire’s face lit up in surprise, her expression still guarded, making him realize just how much pain his pretended indifference must have caused. “What are you saying?”
“I’m done pretending. I’m done acting like I don’t think of you every moment of my day. Like you’re not in my head all the time. I need you, Claire. Like I’ve never needed anyone else before.”
Their eyes meet in the low light of the car, illuminated only by the streetlight. He doesn’t need a mirror to know just how his eyes look. His feelings are crystal clear to him, at last, he’s able to name them all, and he knows is that it’s all her. She nodded her head gently.
“I need you too, Ethan.”
With Herculean effort, he looked away from her for just enough time to pull the car into more safe space along the sidewalk, parking it in a safe distance, no one in their immediate neighborhood that could interrupt them. The vehicle was now stable, but not a single muscle of his moved to open the door. His eyes burned with unshed tears, his vision blurring.
Claire noticed. Of course, she did.
“Don’t worry, I’m not sad… just overwhelmed.” He rushed to assure her, blinking rapidly a couple of times to will the tears away. “What you said that night in the hospital got me thinking.” Just when he thought he had a grip on himself, he slipped again, falling into the pit of despair once more. “The idea that I’d never touch you again… it was almost more than I could bear.”
His fingers shook when he reached for her hand, brushing them against her skin like she was made of glass. As though any harder contact would turn her into thin air and his worst thoughts would become reality.
“Claire, you know what I was like when I first met you. A cynic, sometimes a bully. I was burned out on seeing all those interns coming in each year, making the same mistakes over and over again.”
“Excuse me, I like to think that my mistakes were brand new, thank you very much.” she interrupted him, by some miracle maintaining a serious expression. He wasn’t that successful in it, a grin cracking his façade.
“Your mistakes were more creative than most, I’ll give you that.” They shared a quick laugh before the tone of their conversation flew back into a more serious one. “When I thought that you wouldn’t be on my team, that I wouldn’t be responsible for your development as a doctor, I thought maybe there was a chance… if the only thing at stake were my reputation, I wouldn’t have hesitated. Not even a moment.” He allowed his eyes to search for hers, watching all the emotions playing out in them as he spoke. “Once you joined my team, I worried it wouldn’t be fair to you. That I wouldn’t be able to teach you, to push you the way you needed to be pushed. And the mere thought of someone suggesting that you slept your way onto the team made me furious.”
“I mean, clearly.” She smirked, pointing out how tense he’s gotten at the simple mention of it. He laughed, nodding his head in agreement.
“You earned your place.” He continued, staring right into her eyes, his gaze conveying all the belief he had in her. “I thought I was strong enough to hold my feelings back so I could support your career. That I could… I’m sorry if I...” he trailed off, unable to gather his thoughts. She smiled widely at how flustered he was.
“Don’t be.”
“Now, I realize how foolish I was. I’ve spent days worrying about your life.” his voice cracked, tears appearing in his eyes once more. “I just can’t bring myself to care about any of those things anymore. That is, of course, if you’re feeling the same way.” he finished, uncertainty and self-consciousness finding their way into his words. His hand squeezed hers again, trying to convey all that he didn’t or couldn’t manage to say to her through the simple touch, their gazes still tightly locked, their faces subtly leaning into each other.
Before he can think even once about leaning away to give her space, she captures his lips in the softest kiss he’s ever experienced. All existing thoughts fly out of his head, wiping it blank. Hospital, isolation room, the funeral, all the people, gone in an instant. Nothing else exists, nothing else is real. Only their lips, the slow dance of their tongues, the warmth they share and the heat in their veins, ignited by even the smallest of touches.
She muttered his name against his lips before he pulled her right back in, kissing her gently once, twice, three times before he, albeit reluctantly, leaned away. His expression revealed how torn he was, between what he wanted and what he knew she needed in that moment. Or, at least, what he thought she needed.
“I’m sorry. This isn’t the right time, I know. I should be trying to take care of you, not…”
“No. It’s good.” She protested firmly, steadying her gaze on him.
“I just don’t want to push you into something you don’t want. I understand, really Claire, I do.”
She shook her head, pressing her lips to the corner of his, remaining there for a moment. “I want this. I want you.”
A wide grin spread across his face, making him look younger. “You can’t imagine how much I was hoping you’d say that.”
Ethan lifted his hand towards her face, tracing the line of her cheekbone with his index finger. Every place they touched sent sparks through him, a heat wave following soon after. He noticed how flushed she was, undoubtedly feeling the same sensation as he was in that exact moment. If that wasn’t proof enough, the fogged up windows of his car would have to do. Rain still rang heavily against the outside of the car, managing to almost drown out the sound of blood, rushing in his ears.
“Is that all you were hoping for?” she panted, her breaths shallow as she waited in anticipation for what was to come. The smile couldn’t leave his face.
“Honestly? No.” he stole one kiss after the other, futile attempt to satiate his need for her. “But I want you to tell me what you need right now. Tell me what you want me to do, Claire.”
With a cheeky grin, she winked at him and then proceeded to climb over the console to the back of the car.
“Where are you going?” he asked with wide eyes, confused. Once seated comfortably, she crooked her finger, inviting him to join her.
“So much more space…” she trailed off, smirking suggestively at him. Placing her hand at the seat next to her, she patted the leather slightly, silently asking again. Wordlessly, he got out of the car, rushing to get back inside through the back door. Rain was dripping from the ends of his hair and trickling down the material of his jacket.
“That’s cheating.” She called him out, wiping a droplet of water from his cheek.
“No, that’s dignity.” He corrected her teasingly, taking a breath to steady himself, waiting for her next move.
Claire rolled her eyes and immediately after, her hands gripped his shoulders, pulling him down on top of her. He fell into her embrace before he could catch himself, keeping himself slightly above her with his arms. His lips found hers immediately, a soft sigh slipping out of her at the sensation.
Hesitantly, he allowed his hand to trail over the curves of her body, paying attention to them all. Sneaking beneath her back, he blindly found the zipper, breaking the kiss for long enough to lean away, his eyes carrying the question, laced with doubt. She nodded, kissing him again, a bit surer, a bit harder. Tugging on the zipper, he followed the line of her spine, letting his fingers dip beneath the material from time to time, her skin feeling feverish in comparison to his own, cold from the rain.
He skimmed over the hem of her dress, drawing out the moment. As he raised the material along with his hand, he willed his mind to remember this. To commit to his memory the scent of her perfume. The little sounds she was making in the back of her throat when their skin touched. The way her lips fit against his so perfectly.
She raised her arms above her head, helping him undress her, shaking her head shortly to move hair away from her face. He brushed the remaining locks away, looking at her as though she was the eighth wonder of the world.
“You’re beautiful.” His words were nothing more than a mutter against her lips before they came together in a fleeting kiss. Ethan sat up, taking in the way her pale skin contrasted the black lingerie in the dim light. His fingers ran down her legs with featherlight touches, stopping at the straps of her heels. Taking his time, he undid the clasps on both shoes, looking up at her from time to time, the atmosphere getting more and more electrified with each passing glance they shared. He pressed a soft kiss to her ankle before letting her feet rest on either side of him.
Claire sat up, wrapping her hand around his tie, and using it to pull him closer. The damp material of his jacket contrasted with her naked skin, causing a shiver to run through her. She undid the tie with controlled moves, using it to keep him near her, their lips almost touching, but not quite. He took the jacket off, letting it fall to the space beneath the seat, next to her dress and shoes. When she reached for the buttons of his shirt, he caught her hand, smoothing the skin over her knuckles with the pad of his thumb.
“Let me.” he mused, hastily getting rid of his shirt, shoes and socks following closely behind. She ran the tip of her index finger along the hem of his pants, watching how the muscles there contracted. He shook his head, a shuddered breath leaving his mouth when he finally got rid of the pants too.
They touched each other tentatively, reacquainting themselves with each other’s bodies. Ethan’s lips left hers, dragging a slow, hot line down the slope of her neck, paying close attention to every inch of her skin he could reach. He bit her right above her collarbone, a low moan of hers filling his ears not even a second later.
Listening to her, he allowed his tongue to dip beneath the fabric of her bra, with just enough force to tease but not enough to satisfy. Claire’s fingers flew to his head, tangling gently in his hair as he explored her body. His stubble tickled her stomach when his lips followed the line of her muscles, at last reaching the line of her panties. He kissed and bit his way from one hipbone to the other, spurred on by her breathless pants that kept on coming in waves. She moaned when his lips touched her directly through the lacy fabric.
“I’m just getting started…”
With a smirk she’s seen before, he slid her panties down her legs, slowly, without a single care in the world. Any protest she had, had died down when he reached the apex of her thighs, swiping his tongue against her folds slowly. Her head dipped back at the sensation, the grip she had on his hair tightening before she let it lose, instead threading her fingers through the strands.
His mouth closed over her clit, focusing all of his attention on that spot, guided by her moans. She looked down at him, finding his eyes almost closed, but still focused on hers. She was getting so close to the release that she could taste it, her legs beginning to shake with each move he made and it was at that moment when he leaned away, climbing back up and kissing her fiercely, with wild abandonment. She made a sound of protest, pressing her finger to halt him for a second.
“Don’t stop now.”
“We’ve got all night.” He grinned, kissing her finger and then her lips, again and again, short and sweet kisses passing through to her how happy he was in that moment. “No need to rush…”
She hummed, sitting up and placing her hands on his shoulders, pretending to lean in for a kiss. When he took the bait, she pushed him backwards, straddling his hips and pinning his wrists on either side of his head. Her hair fell around them like a curtain, blocking out their surroundings, leaving only her face in his field of view. She pressed her hips down, their bodies rubbing against one another, his helpless moan getting lost on his lips when she took his mouth in a searing kiss.
“No need to rush, huh? After you’ve made me wait for so long?” Claire asked, both of them breathing the same air. “I want to savor it. I’ll tire you out.” She whispered right into his ear, leaning back to capture surprise on his face that morphed into want when she grinned mischievously, grinding against him. She let out a soft sigh, feeling him growing harder from her ministrations. “I’m going to make you beg for it.”
“Don’t be so certain.”
“Sounds to me like a challenge. And we both know I’m not one to back down from a challenge.”
Adjusting her grip on his hands, she peppered light kisses against his mouth, pulling back when he began to kiss her back, and going back in. She treated his neck like a map, discovering spots that made him breathe heavier. Her teeth sank into his earlobe, pulling on it playfully. His hum of approval made his throat vibrate, tickling her gently.
Claire sat up again, keeping him in place with her legs, letting go of his hands so she could scrape her nails down his chest as she aimed for his underwear. Without a preamble, she hooked her fingers beneath the material and pulled it down, freeing him effectively.
She kept her eyes trained on his face firmly as she lowered her mouth. Her hot breath fanned against him, her hair brushing the sensitive skin of the inside of his thighs. She kissed him gently, running her tongue against his length, then took the tip into her mouth and sucked. Ethan moaned lowly, wanting to close his eyes but finding himself unable to look away from the sight of her working him.
She moved slowly, controlling her pace, alternating between her teeth and her tongue, his hips moving up and down, matching her rhythm. His hand gripped the edge of the seat, leather creasing under the force of his hold, while his other hand made its way to the back of her head, stroking her hair. She’d almost let him go, sucking gently, then take him back in, cries falling from his lips over and over again, following no particular pattern. Just like he’s done to her, she brought him to the brink, one more move of hers and he’d be falling recklessly, which is when she released him with a quiet sound. She let him have a moment to breathe, then went back in with barely-there touches, pulling him in and then pushing him away.
“You win! You win! I��m begging.” He laughed quietly, surrendering to her, gripping her hips when she straightened herself. Looking up at her, he couldn’t believe how long he managed to resist it. To resist her.
“Now?” Claire asked, smiling cheekily at him, squeezing his thighs together with her own as she waited for his answer.
“Now.” he nodded, helping her settle herself over him. Their eyes found one another, stares locked tightly as she guided him inside and lowered herself slowly, taking him inch by inch. A shuddered breath slipped past her lips, eyes falling shut. His arms closed around her, keeping them together while he adjusted, resting against the door, ignoring the way the arm rest was digging into the skin of his back. The new position allowed them to be even closer, enabling them more freedom of movement in such a small space.
Her back arched against him, their hips meeting at a frenzied pace, guided by his hands pulling her closer and her thighs raising and dropping her onto him over and over again. The way their position worked allowed him free access to her neck and chest, alternating between soft kisses and teasing nips across her skin.
“Come here…” Claire moaned, pulling his face up to meet hers, lips crashing in a hurried and intense kiss, taking their breaths and stealing their minds.
What started out as playful and light act of affection, quickly changed its tone. His hands strayed from her hips, running all over her body; with each new patch of skin he pulled her closer, more and more desperate to touch her, to feel her being alive. Alive and with him.
His hips shot up, meeting her halfway, changing the angle. The sounds they were making were getting louder and bolder, but Ethan couldn’t remember just why he would want to keep quiet. Claire didn’t do anything about it either, too far gone and lost in him to care about anything else than what they had in that moment.
Her name rang in the crammed space of a car when he groaned against her, his movements becoming less precise and more frantic. Both of them chased release, pushing each other further, higher, harder, neither aware of how much time has passed. The thing that pushed her over the edge was the way he looked at her. Complete certainty, utter happiness and endless bliss that made her feel as though she was about to fall apart and be put back together just by the movement of his body against hers. Crying out his name, she came around him, her spasming muscles tightening around him. With one thrust, he followed her, drowning out his desperate groan with a kiss on her lips.
Exhausted, although satisfied, they lied down to their best ability, cherishing the closeness that they could now allow themselves to experience. Ethan’s arms kept her as close to him as he could, his chest moving up and down rapidly, heart racing. Claire’s lips barely left his skin, kissing his cheek lazily and slowly, relishing the feeling of freedom that being so openly affectionate with him gave her. They basked in the afterglow of their closeness a while longer, neither saying anything, which left plenty of time for her mind to wander.
“You’re quiet. What are you thinking?” he ran his fingers through her hair, twisting the ends aimlessly. He could feel her smiling.
“I was wondering…” she craned her neck, looking up at him with a lively twinkle in her eyes. “Can we maybe do this inside next time? We wouldn’t want your old bones to get sore or worse, injured by closing ourselves in such small spaces.” Teasingly, she stroked his hip, tracing random patterns. His laughter rang in the car, sounding so carefree and rich, filling her to the brim with warmth.
“We can do whatever you want.” he promised, leaning down to make their lips brush together, eyes intense when he looked straight into hers. “Wherever you’d like.”
“That’s a potentially dangerous invitation.”
“I hoped you’d see it that way.” smirking, he made their lips meet properly, unhurriedly brushing his tongue against hers.
They decided against getting dressed just yet, opting for only their underwear. A sudden shiver shook her body, goosebumps spreading over her arms. Ethan noticed, picking up his jacket and helping her put it on, refusing to take no for an answer.
That’s how they spent the next hour or so, sitting in the back of his car, their legs tangled and hands clasped together tightly, talking quietly. He observed how her eyes glowed happily, his mind throwing a four-letter word at him. There was nothing left for him to hesitate about. He knew.
Her wild gesticulation got interrupted by him when he caught her hand, starting a line of hot kisses up her arm, biting her shoulder lightly before he claimed her lips. He leaned onto her, following her body as she lied down, her hands gripping the sides of his face, refusing to let him get too far away.
“Didn’t you say we’d be inside for the next time?” Claire’s laughter shook her entire body, making them rub against each other, pulling shaky gasps from them both. He touched his forehead to hers.
“Time after this one, then? Or the one after that too, just to be sure.”
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.” She grinned, wrapping her leg around him and hauling him onto her with a light laugh.
#fanfiction#ethan ramsey#ethan x mc#mc x ethan#dr. ethan ramsey#ethan ramsey x mc#mc x ethan ramsey#choices fanfiction#choices#open heart#open heart fanfiction#fic
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@fuckshitassbitchcockballs
i know valentine's day isnt rly that big of a deal, not a Huge Holiday or anything but sinc i completely forgor to draw you somethin im jus making this quick litol text post at 4:29 am when i should be sleeping but instead i am fucking starving so i am eating a bagel and then going to bed . i very seepie
but n e ways
i jus wanted 2 say i love u very very much, the stuf we were talking about earlier today about all thos scenarios n stuff made me jus kinda . Think About Stuff a bit ig. made me yearn very very Hard and so like im just . yeah. i kno that this is proly like uhhhhhhhhhh awkward kinda beacuse its late and im tired n Sebby and i have to get up in literally like 6 hours but like idk !!!!!! i just love u a lot. n u mean a very much to me adnd all and ur just . ouaoguhog,,, so ebbic,,, u so prebby ur voice is jus so lovely n god i just . ouaouhgoubgnjbbhjgnkmlkkmlmknjnbhbhnjgjjf u are the fucking gf ever (affectionate) n i just love u so very much i think
off topic but i burnt my bagel and now i am SOSAD. crying in real life. too cripsy :(
anyways
if you couldnt tell i very seep depbrived <3
anyways (x2)
i canot wait for u to come n visit maybe in the summer n for u to come liv with me eventually in a couple years whenever we're able 2 live together, jus canot wait to fianally be able to wake up next to u and fall aseep next to u, to wake up to ur voice quietly talking to me n to fall asleep with u leaning on my shoulder while i ramble to u about wc, to spend the day together snuggling n doing smal affectionate stuff and then to spend the night together, not doing anythin romantic or intimate but just being in the same room together enjoying each others company and doin our own thing, to wake up to you saying "good morning hun, did u seep well?" n to fall asleep to u saying "goodnight honey, i hope u seep well <3" n have u give me a very very soft kis on the forehead while i lazily n seepily kis u back, i jus cant wait to do any of that stuf, whether its while ur here visiting or here living with me, i jus simpbly canot wait
i kno this is prolly a lot for jus a Simbple Valentines Day Poste but like i said i forgor to draw something for u bc orignally i wanted to draw somethhin for ya and show u int he morning but then Stuff Happened n i was preoccupied n then after u went to bed i bought a new game n played it for like 3 and a half hours (so until like 3:30 am) and then i was like "oh fuck i have to get up early" so now im layin down n all that, BUT stil maybe ill draw u somethimg tomorow (or ig today depending on when ur readin this) ((which will presumably be tomorrow/today)) but im also gona be quite busy tomorrow caaaaaause moms bf and mom are going out places and i am coming with them because yeah (not being forced to go out i just never ever go outside and havent touched grass in at least a month so I Need Fresh Fucking Air for once haha)
ANYWAYS. gonna go sebby now i hope this mayb makes u do a litol laugh or do a littol :) because im lov u. u ebic. very preby very shapbed !!! curvy an chub an sqishe an sof . dats u an im lobve u ! i go seepy now goonite i lov u very very veyry very very muche . an now,,,,,,, ime gon gb u,,,,,,,,,, smal kis cause i sepie,,,,,,,,,, mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmwwwwwwah!!!!!!!! ity bity kis for u !!!!!!!! ok i go sbebby now goonite i hobe that whenever u see this that u got good seep :] <3
#also hey dont rb @ literally everyone#LIKE i dont mean that in a bad way i jus ge tilke#i get annooyed when i make a gaypost like this n someone or people Reblog It bc like its jus....... strang 2 me#matt u can reblog it if u wante i domt minde its jus sometimes ppl rwho Arent You reblog my gayposts for some reason#n it makes me go >:\#BUT ANYWAYS GOING SEPIE FOR NOW REAL NOW FOR REAL . IT IS ALMOST 5am wish me luck in getting up earlyyyyyyyy
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{message from mod}
hi there!!
this is an ask blog/au comic story thingy for dhmis for a weird dream i had
anon will be turned on shortly
im a little new to this so im not entirely sure how exactly an ask blog is supposed to go-
ill answer your questions as soon as i can! thank you!!
ran by @raymett
{end mod message}
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Tags:
Story Bits = asks (some expand the story, some don’t)
Story Chunks = large parts of the story told without asks
Story Transition = a transition to another part of the story (sometimes has art, sometimes doesn’t)
Story event = special stuff like truth or dare, Valentine’s Day, etc
Not story bits = stuff that isn’t part of the story/ doesn’t expand the story
{mod message} = messages from mod
{mod drawing} = mod made a pic they thought would look cool but it has no real purpose in the story (can be mini refs and other stuff like that)
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(a mix of muffled voices can be heard)
It’s been so long since we had any new students...I wonder if maybe it’s time to stop teaching.
Nonsense! I’m sure there are students right outside that door just waiting to be taught!
You say that, but-
(the door suddenly swings open)
Ow!!
I told you not to run that fast...
Wait! Look how cool this place is!!
If by ‘cool’ you mean ‘run down’ then yeah...let’s just go back outside and continue the lunch we planned.
Uhh...the door is locked.
...what...
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Survey #453
“you can check out any time you like, but you can never leave”
What health problems run in your family? Diabetes, high blood pressure and cholesterol, depression, cancer, a LOT more that I'm forgetting.
Where did you last have sex? I have zero memory of the last time that was, so I wouldn't know. But probably a bed?
How long have you known your best friend? Since we were around 8 and 11.
What’s something people criticize you the most for? That I rely on the computer too much.
Are spiders scary? I mean some are, but they're also extremely fascinating animals that I really enjoy observing.
Cheetos. Poofy or regular? Regular, for sure. The poofy ones get stuck in your teeth SO badly.
What's your favorite music genre? Heavy metal.
Be honest. What are you most afraid of? Doing nothing with my life.
What's your favourite type of survey to take? The ones with really random questions that you don't see in every single one. However, I don't like "random" to where the questions are just inapplicable to almost everyone. I also enjoy questions that allow me to vent about stuff I have going on. If I'm in the right mood, deep questions are great, too.
What was the last topic you read about? In detail? I don't know.
What shirt do you wear the most? Besides tank tops, my Cloak "equal in our bones" Day of the Dead shirt.
What's your go-to order from KFC? I don't eat at KFC.
Did you have hand-me-down clothes when you were growing up? Yes.
What was the last song you listened to? Well, NOW I'm obsessed with Violet Orlandi's cover of "Hotel California." I keep finding new songs that I just loop for days, man, lol. I'm still not over her "The Unforgiven" cover.
Did you have long hair as a young kid? I did.
How many songs do you know by the band you are listening to? I'm still listening to Violet's "Hotel California" cover, which is originally by The Eagles. I obviously know this song, as well as "Heartache Tonight." Probably more, just those are the two I know and like.
What podcasts do you listen to, if any? I don't listen to any.
What was your most recent binge watch? Gab Smolders' playthrough of Final Fantasy X.
What’s the oldest thing currently in your house? Hell, possibly my bed frame. I don't know.
If you use Snapchat, do you post to your story or send individual snaps more often? I don't have one.
When was the last time you rolled your eyes? At what? Not too long ago. Mom said something that really annoyed me.
Do you like mozzarella sticks? No.
If you had to name one of your children after a friend, solely based on their name alone, who would you choose? Probably Alon. Everything about her is beautiful, ha ha.
Have you ever watched anime porn? I can confidently say I have not...
Are ladybugs cute? Yes!
Would you wear something made from snake skin? Fuck no. I won't wear anything that comes from an animal.
Will you leave the house without fragrance on? Yeah, idc.
What’s the coolest thing you’ve ever done for a significant other? In art class, I made an anatomically correct heart out of clay and put it in a shadow box along with a poem as the background. I honestly really hope Jason still has it, because I worked my ass off on it.
What do you think of naming your son after the father (ex. Roy Jr.): It's not my business what other parents name their kids, but for me personally, I really don't like it. Like... give your child their own identity. It also feels kinda arrogant to me? Like are you so important that you have to force your name onto your kid?
Do you like Death Cab For Cutie? I only know "I Will Follow You Into the Dark," which I adore.
Do walking near or past cops make you feel uncomfortable? Yes. I just feel like I'm doing something wrong somehow.
Do you think stretching (or gauging) your ears is disgusting? When they get to a certain size, to me it is. Small ones are no biggie.
What piercing or body modification do you think is really gross? Oh my god, those corset piercings people get on their backs. Just... no.
What would you do if your bf/gf told you they were going into the army? I'd be fucking devastated, in a hypothetical relationship where we're serious.
What is the nearest gas station called? Uhhhh... I forgot lol. The second-closest though, which is almost like, RIGHT beside the other one, is Sheetz.
Do you think bearded dragons are cute? omg YES!!!!!!!!
What is your father’s best friend’s name? Do you know them personally? I have no idea.
Ever have a dream you’re being abducted by aliens? Was it scary? No.
Are you someone who tends to take a whole lot of naps? Too many, honestly. I'm just like... always tired.
What is your favorite nickname you like to be called? Why do you like it? Hm. My favorite I've ever had was "Bee," which Megan called me, but I don't like others calling me that.
Ever meet someone whose house has burned down spontaneously? Yes, in middle school.
Why aren’t you pursuing the person you like? I kinda am. I reached out to him.
What part of a person’s body do you find most attractive? Guys: shoulder blades. Girls: hips.
Any friends that you’d go on a date with? Yeah. I think I want to try that with Girt and see how it goes and decide what the fuck I want.
Is it cute when someone calls you babe? It's funny, I used to hate that, but now I imagine I wouldn't mind?
Do you like Muse? Yeah! "Unnatural Selection" and "Psycho" are especially BANGERS.
What’s your favorite flavor of jello? Strawberry.
What song is stuck in your head right now? I'm bingeing the absolute fuck outta the song I mentioned earlier, ha ha.
Do you have a niece or nephew? I have a lot, but only three I see regularly.
Have you ever been caught doing something REAL embarrassing by your parents? idk
What did you receive for Valentine’s Day? I think Mom got me a chocolate bar?
When was the last time you went to a cemetery, and why were you there? I want to say this was many years ago when I went with Colleen to her church. Her stillborn brother was buried there.
Have you ever owned a plant? What was it? I grew habaneros once, along with some sort of succulents from Colleen.
What was the most interesting animal you have seen in the wild? I saw a mink jump into the river once when I was out fishing with Dad at our favorite spot.
Were you born in the state you live in? Yep. Always lived here.
What’s a smell that makes you feel ill? Dog shit.
Do you like to sleep? Yes and no. I like falling asleep if it's quick, because I'm all comfy, but I also dread sleep because of my nightmares. Even with my mask, they're starting to become regular again. After last night's, I am legitimately beginning to fear something is psychologically wrong with me. Like, I cried to my mom.
Do you like the smell of gasoline? Ugh, no. It gives me a headache.
Have you lost contact with anyone you wish you haven’t? Many people.
Did you give anyone his/her first kiss? No.
Should you ever have gone to the hospital but didn’t? Vice versa? No.
Who do you miss the most? Jason.
What do you miss the most? Being happy.
What is your birthstone? Do you have any jewelry with it? Amethyst. I have a really cute guardian angel pin with one given to me by my grandmother.
What is the last dream you remember having? Last night was... awful. I remember Mom and I getting in a MASSIVE fight, and also literally yelling at my late beloved dog something about crushing his head in if he didn't stop barking. Like I mentioned earlier, I'm really scared something is really wrong with me.
Have you had a church confirmation, bar/bat mitzvah, or something similar? Growing up Roman Catholic, I had a Confirmation ceremony.
What was the last baby animal you saw? I wanna say a puppy on Facebook. A friend just got one.
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don’t be a baby part 2
Pairing: Billy x Fem!Reader
Summary: After losing Billy, Reader doesn’t know what to do with herself. After receiving some news about a millionaire who’s been murdering people, she convinces Billy’s old Sky Walker crew to train her so she can take him down. But the mission doesn’t go as planned and suddenly, there’s a man offering her a position on an elite team...
Read part 1 HERE
Word Count: 14K
Warnings: Swearing, blood, fight sequences, needles, mentions of smut and talk of depression.
A/N: HAPPY VALENTINES DAY AND HERE IT IS!!! Part two of don’t be a baby!! Thank you all so so much for your patience, I wanted to be sure this story was perfect and I hope all love it! Once again, a HUGE thank you to @itsabenthing who is always a wonderful source of inspiration and helps to keep me on track and to @mrhoemazzello for hyping me up at all times and for letting me bounce ideas off her!! And don’t worry...there will be a third part 😉
💖💖As always, likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated! 💖💖
365 days.
That's not a long time.
A year on Neptune is the equivalent of 164 years on Earth. Bowhead whales can live up to 200 years. The Methuselah tree is 4,700 years old.
365 days is nothing.
What's one lousy year in the grand scheme of things?
Compared to one day.
24 hours to have your whole world ripped out from underneath you. To believe that up is down and down is up. To feel your feet leave the earth as you pitch forward into a tunnel where time passes both far too quickly and not quickly enough.
One 30 second phone call can feel like the longest thing in the world.
To some, 365 days may not feel all that long, but to others?
365 days is far too long.
~One Month After the Funeral~
“(Y/N)? It’s me. You doing okay?” Mark winced when he realized how dumb that question was.
Setting the bags of food down on the kitchen table, he opened the fridge. His heart clenched when he saw the food he had put there a week ago sitting untouched.
It had been the worst right after the funeral. When he came over on the days following the funeral she would be in the same clothes he had last seen her in, staring at the wall or ceiling. On good days her cheeks would be dry, on bad days? The tears would soak her pillow case.
He had nicked Mary, Billy’s sister’s, number from (Y/N)’s phone. Figuring that Mary may have some professional resources she could recommend to get (Y/N) the help she desperately needed to pick herself back up.
After a few weeks of her catatonic state, she started moving more. But it was almost worse. She was like a zombie.
He’d tell her maybe she should shower or eat and in slow robotic movements she’d do what he asked, then crawl back into bed. Eyes empty. Flat.
The passivity broke his heart.
There hadn’t been a time when Mark and (Y/N) had been growing up when she wasn’t passionate about something. When that familiar light in her eyes had burned bright.
Without it, it felt like looking at a mannequin of his sister.
Sighing, he loaded the new food into her fridge. Taking the old stuff out he figured, if it wasn’t moldy, he could feed it to Jean, who was like a human garbage disposal. He claimed grief made him starving.
As Mark stood up, he faced the bedroom door and felt his shoulders slump forward. He knew what was waiting for him on the other side and he didn’t want to see it. He knew he was a coward but part of him just wanted to walk out the front door and pretend that his sister was on the other side, totally fine, she was just sleeping and he’d come back next week and she’d greet him with a smile and a hug.
Something he hadn’t seen in, well, in a month.
Feeling his shoulders creep up towards his ears as he stood outside her bedroom door, he made a conscious effort to relax them.
“Hey, (Y/N), you awake?”
Nudging the door open, he peered into her room, taking stock of it. It looked exactly the same as last time he had checked on her. The soft rise and fall of her side underneath her blanket the only movement. Taking a moment to capture how serene she looked, he quietly closed the door behind him, taking a minute to send up a plea that he would do anything, anything, for his sister if it just meant that one day he’d see her up and out of her bed.
~
A buzzing by her ear woke her up. Groaning, she slapped her hand around the bed, trying in vain to stay semi-unconscious. The buzzing came faster, one right after the other, reminding her of how her phone had acted the day Billy’d died. Heart dropping through the floorboards, her eyes flew open.
Sitting up and shoving the blankets back in one quick motion only caused her to hear a loud thud. Cursing, she crawled over to the edge, allowing her top half to go limp as her bottom half stayed put on her bed.
Pushing her hair back with one hand she turned her phone over to see what was happening. News alert after news alert was scrolling in. They all said the same thing,
Local Billionaire Accused of Dumping Toxic Waste in Ocean.
Her eyebrows knitted together as she read the remainder of the story. There was something tugging at her subconscious as she read. This billionaire, Chase Casewell, had a reputation for being a real prick and after using his family's money to get through business school and have his first idea fail (an app that told Influencers when the best time to post would be) he had made his millions by starting a brand that specialized in shoes, ugly beige monstrosities if she remembered correctly.
It had just come out that he had instructed the plants that made his shoes to dump the waste into the ocean. The chemicals they’d used had poisoned the water supply, causing the fish to become infected with the chemicals. Then, the local fisherman would catch the fish, take them home to their families, eat them, then the fishermen and their families would end up in the hospital.
Her hospital.
She sat bolt upright as she remembered the string of mysterious illnesses that had ended up in her ward a few weeks before she had met Billy that first time. If the victims were lucky, they ended up puking their guts out for a few days and, after being hooked up to an IV to re-hydrate, she’d send them on their way.
Others would linger for a few days then quietly slip away. The chemicals flowing through their bloodstream till their veins ran thick with poison, where it finally creeped up to their heart where the poisons would wrap themselves around their most vital organ. Suffocating it until it gave out entirely.
The one that had affected her the most was Isabella, a small girl with dark braids and a love of Frozen. The only thing that’d make her smile was when (Y/N) would come in with a stuffed Olaf and have him ask her for a warm hug. She had been holding this little girl's hand, watching Frozen when her heart just...gave out.
She had gone to the funeral but shame and guilt burned bright inside till she felt like there was a beacon surrounding her, letting everyone at the funeral know it was her fault that Isabella had passed away.
As the pieces clicked together in her mind she felt an inferno roar to life inside her. It burned away the sadness and despair she’d been wallowing in ever since Billy left only to leave behind rage and guilt. The emotions boiled in her stomach, bile climbing up her throat as she stumbled to the bathroom
Collapsing over the toilet, heaving and retching, she knew nothing was coming up but her body worked overtime to expunge the horror she felt in any way it could. Her body spasming as waves of emotions crashed through her system.
Several minutes passed till she finally felt the nausea start to ebb. Slumping against the wall, she hung her head over the toilet as she took steadying breaths, making sure that her body wasn’t going to rebel again.
When she lifted her head, she had made a decision.
~
"Alrigh', alrigh' I'm coming. Quite your bloody knocking you crazy-"
Jean's rant was cut short when he saw (Y/N) on the other side of the door decked out in black athletic gear, hair pulled back in a tight braid. Jean's eyes widened as he made contact with her own eyes. A fire could get started with the steely glint that was reflected back at him.
"I need you to train me."
"T-train you?" Jean's hands were instantly coated in sweat as he contemplated what she was talking about.
"Yes. Like how you trained Billy and Mark. Train me to be a Sky Walker. I can do this."
Jean rubbed a hand down his face, "(Y/N)...it's late. Maybe we should sleep on this-"
"NO." That one word leapt from her throat in a growl, causing Jean to step back, half shutting the door. Slamming her hand against the door she switched tactics, "Please Jean. There's this prick who's dumping toxic waste into the ocean. So many people were sick and at my hospital because of him." Swallowing thickly, her eyes grew unfocused, "They died...under my watch."
Jean's shoulders slumped at that admission. With Billy’s death overshadowing everything, he forgot that in her line of work she saw more sickness and death than even he had seen.
But this was the first time since the funeral that he had seen her up and moving. It was the first time that her eyes held any sort of emotion. He couldn’t bear to be the one that extinguished it. He couldn’t do that to her. Or to Mark.
Heaving a sigh he flung his hands up, "Fine. We start in the morning,” Her eyes widened and a small smile crept across her face as she stepped forward into his apartment until he held a hand out to stop her, “Now let me go back to sleep so I don't pass out on you mid training session and we both die."
~Three Months After the Funeral~
Are you ready for it?
The bass thumped through her headphones, as her fists made contact with the punching bag in front of her in time to the beat. Staying light on her toes, she bounded back and forth, jabbing, punching, upper cutting, swaying in and out as she danced around the bag.
She had been here for hours. The 24-hour gym had cleared out earlier, now it was just her and other people who couldn't sleep or worked weird hours.
As the last line of the song faded she put her hands on her hips, pacing over to her backpack.
Rooting through it, she located her water bottle, taking long pulls from it as her heart beat slowed down.
Boxing had been one of the only things that was able to take her mind off of, well, everything.
That and running. Everyone and their mother had told her to try yoga after they’d heard what happened, telling her it would help to "quiet her mind" but the more time she spent sitting still, the more she could feel Billy's hand slipping from hers as he walked out of her apartment for the last time.
She gave it up when a panic attack had taken over her system in downward dog.
Activities that let her be alone, that let her get her aggression out, were the most beneficial.
Plus, it helped with the Sky Walker training she’d been receiving from Mark and Jean.
After she’d shown up at Jean’s door that night, she arrived on his doorstep bright and early the next morning, knowing that she’d have to knock extra loud to make sure Jean actually woke up. Which is why it shocked her that before she could even knock on the door, Jean had swung it open to reveal him and Mark standing in front of her, looking for all the world like two parents ready to scold their child for staying out past curfew.
Smirking she shrugged, “Sorry I missed curfew.”
Mark’s mouth twitched and she knew that, with him at least, she was off the hook.
They had sat her down, gone over basic safety information, how they practiced moves on the ground first so they could get comfortable executing them and then took them up into the air.
Mark’s heart broke at how alert and interested she was. It was the first time in months he saw her engage with others and it killed him that this was what it was taking to bring her back from the brink.
Ever since then, she had been training with them to prepare for this mission, to learn the necessary skills she’d need to break in, to keep herself alive. She had convinced Mark and Jean that the plan she had for Chase was a one-woman job. She told them that if she couldn’t pick up on everything in six months then she would let one of them help her on this mission.
But she knew she wouldn’t need their help. When Mark and Jean taught her how to fight, how to dodge opponents, how to protect herself in a fight, her Nurse Brain kicked into high gear.
When they’d break down certain tricks she was able to picture the exact muscles, ligaments and bones that would need to be strengthened, how they would need to move to be able to complete the move perfectly.
She was even able to break down fight sequences just from observing her opponents moves. Looking at how certain muscles tensed, what foot they’d lead with, how their fist was turned, it all helped her get the upper hand in any fight.
Knowing pressure points and which joints were the weakest were an added benefit during these training sessions.
(After she almost dislocated Jean’s knee, he had limped away, bellowing about how she needed to seriously remember who the enemy was and it “bloody well isn’t me! I like the ocean! I’ve never even been to Sea World, that’s how much I like the ocean!”
All of it added up to her progressing in her training more rapidly than Mark or Jean felt comfortable with.
They couldn’t help being impressed though. She was mastering moves that had taken them years to nail down. But she took to it with a single-minded determinism that worried them, especially Jean.
Training was all (Y/N) cared or wanted to talk about. Mark told him that she’d started working out at all hours. Lifting, running and boxing being the newest activity she had added to her repertoire and while he felt it was a smart move, he couldn’t help but be worried. Every time she was training, he’d seen a fatalistic look in her eyes. It was a look he was all too familiar with, it was a common look in Sky Walkers. But those individuals were always the highest risk cases.
Those were the Sky Walkers who didn't value their own safety. They kept pushing and pushing until mortality pushed back and said, You want to keep going? Fine. You pushed too far and now I'm going to punish you.
The worst part was, in his experience, there was no use trying to tell those individuals to slow down. They inevitably sped up to spite the person who told them to slow down. Jean didn't want Mark to lose his sister too.
After a particularly intense training session, he hesitantly brought it up to Mark who only snorted,
"I already lost her."
"What do you mean?"
Mark shot him an incredulous stare, "You're kidding right? You've seen how much she's changed since Billy left. That's not my sister. I still hope like hell (Y/N)'s underneath this new exterior but...I don't know who this new woman is. And frankly, I don’t want to know who she is.”
She hadn’t told Mark but she’d heard him say that. She knew she wasn’t the same woman but this was the one thing in her life that had made her feel alive since the funeral. She didn’t want to give it up.
They’re just going to have to get used to it. She thought as she unwrapped the bright pink wraps from her hands. Rooting through her backpack, she made sure she had everything. Slinging her bag over her shoulders, she queued up her running playlist.
Striding toward the front door she gave the obligatory head nod to all the members still in the facility.
Shoving the door open, the wind that had buffeted the building all night slapped her in the face. Eyes tearing up, she adjusted the straps of her backpack, hit play and started to jog back to her apartment.
Demons!
Come on!
You've got a vision,
You're on a mission!
~~~
He almost missed her.
The all black clothing she had taken to wearing, combined with how the last vestiges of red in the sky were quickly being overrun by the inky black of the night sky made him worried she’d left without him realizing.
Seeing the door open, light spilling out and illuminating her form, he breathed a sigh of relief. Watching her jog off into the night, he leapt up from his crouched position on the building next door to the gym.
Giving (Y/N) a head start, he waited a few beats before taking off after her. Keeping her in his sight but sticking close to the shadows. Every time he saw a form approaching her, he put on a fresh burst of speed; anxiety spiking through his blood at the prospect of her getting in harm's way helping him to power through. After they passed without incident, he breathed a sigh of relief.
He had done this for a few nights now.
One had told him they wouldn't head out to HQ for a while, something about needing to wrap things up but he didn't question it. It gave him time to check on her.
Recently, he was getting nervous that she had started to...he hated sounding like a hippie but...she had started to sense his presence.
Like their souls burned too brightly together so the universe made it so they would never be lost in the dark as long as they were near each other’s light.
A few weeks ago, he had been following her to her apartment after she left Mark and Jean's. He had been wearing all black, a few feet away, on the roof of a building far above her.
She had stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, tilted her head up and stared right where Billy had been standing. He’d dropped like a rock to the concrete floor of the roof, trying to stifle his breathing, which after almost passing out, realized would be insane if she could hear that.
There had been several other times where there was no possible way (Y/N) should have been able to tell where he was and yet...
She'd look up, right in the direction of where he was and every time, he sent out a plea, See me. Please. Know that I'm here. That I love you. That I never wanted to leave you. Just, please.
Please don't think I broke my promise.
~Seven Months After the Funeral~
She thought the knuckles on her hand were going to pop out of her skin.
Clenching the steering wheel, she chastised herself for making this process so exceedingly difficult.
Just let go of the wheel. She scolded herself, Release your finger. Just the pinky finger. It won't be too hard. C'mon, don't be a-
She cut that thought off quickly.
Too many memories weighed down four little words and if she wasn't careful, they would drag her into the inky blackness of depression. She couldn't risk it. Not with a mission coming up.
The breath leaving her mouth shuddered out of her like the wind through an old house. Her chest felt too tight, like each breath made her lungs smaller, not bigger.
This isn't how he'd want to see you.
Like a flash of lightning, the thought illuminated everything and for a second, the world was crystal clear. Her fingers slipped from the wheel only to land dully in her lap, where they curled in on themselves so they looked like dead bugs.
Snorting, she figured it would be appropriate they looked like dead bugs considering she was in a cemetery.
Sun shining down, the sky a cloudless blue, made it impossible to not think of his eyes and how they had looked at her in the full light of day. That one day they’d had together.
Those perfect 24 hours.
Funny how time constricts and bends so some events pass in the blink of an eye while others pass by like a train at a train crossing when you're running late to work.
Shaking her head, she bowed her head and closed her eyes. The darkness was a welcome reprieve. But not always.
Sleep had become the bogey man at the end of her bed. Sleeping wasn't a relaxing activity, it was prey she had to stalk and take down before it could get her. It wasn't that there were so many nightmares plaguing her, it was just one nightmare.
It was horrible enough that most nights, she didn't even fully fall asleep, it was more like a deep meditative state. The thought that that one nightmare could overwhelm her was enough to make her not want to sleep ever again. The first time the nightmare came to her was a week after his funeral:
Fog would be swirling around her, swallowing up everything in her path. Taking hesitant steps forward, Billy's form would become clearer as she moved forward. Her heart beat speeding up as she saw Billy peering over the edge of the building.
Suddenly, realization would crash into her like a train. This wasn't just any building. This was the building that Billy had last been seen running across. Knowing that there was nothing on the other side, she would rush forward to warn him, to pull him back, to crush his body to hers and never let him go.
She needed to warn him, to save him. But no matter how fast she pumped her legs, Billy stayed the same distance away. His legs would tense and that's when she'd start screaming. Her vocal cords stretched to their breaking point as she rushed towards him. But before she could reach him, he'd leap into the air, disappear into the fog and...
That's when she'd wake up. Face wet with tears, the last of her screams dying in her throat.
She always screamed the same thing.
Billy! Stay!
The first few times she hadn't realized she was actually screaming those words aloud until a neighbor of hers knocked on her door, asking her if she was okay.
She never knew how to answer that question.
It was such an odd one. Mark and Jean asked her that all the time. Whenever they did, she'd grit her teeth and spit out that she was fine because how else was she supposed to answer that question?
"Actually Mark, Jean, I'm so glad you asked because I'm not okay and I probably never will be again because the only man I ever loved and trusted, up and broke said trust! Oh, and did I also mention he's dead?"
That's how she wanted to answer their asinine question but by the time she felt like she could get those words out, most people had moved on from Billy. Because people always do.
But not her.
Though, it hadn't taken long for her to want to sleep with someone else. She figured it would help her heal.
At the very least provide a necessary distraction.
It was always the same.
Normally, they'd lock eyes across the bar. Raising her glass of scotch she got every time she went to the same bar with the sticky floors, burnt out bulbs and rickety chairs, she'd lift it towards him in a kind of salute. When he'd smirk back and do the same, she'd quirk an eyebrow only to throw back the drink in one go. The thud of glass on wood signaling to the bartender to pour her another.
Nine times out of ten, their eyes would immediately become hooded with lust (every now and again, one would take a drink at the same time and choke on his own drink at the action.) A smirk would play across his lips as he'd bring his own glass to his lips and drain it in one go.
Men. God forbid a woman out do them in anything. She always thought ruefully as she'd watch her next victim unfold themselves from the bar stool they were seated on to slip into the empty seat next to her.
There were rules. She refused to sleep with blondes. She had one time. She had moaned out Billy's name and immediately started crying. When the man with her had tried to comfort her she had pushed him away, screaming at him to get out of her apartment.
The other rule was, no sleepovers. Having men sleep over usually meant they overstayed their welcome and she didn't want them getting comfortable anymore than she wanted to spend the night in a bed that wasn't hers.
Once the rules had been established, it was the same shit with a slightly different dude. They'd engage in flirty banter, a well-timed arm touch, a glance up at him through her lashes, one more drink and then they'd be in the back of a Lyft, hands everywhere, and then a few hours later she'd be back in a Lyft (one time, the same Lyft driver who had dropped them off had picked her up, alone, offering a hive five as she got out of the car) to go back to her apartment.
Alone.
Most nights she wondered why she did it. Why she was constantly hunting for that same jolt of electricity that she’d had with Billy. Every time her encounters ended, she always wondered what the point of doing this was. Why did she bother when every man she interacted with came up hilariously short?
She had tried to make it work, to forget him, but the entire time some man would be kissing her, caressing her, touching her, there was always a part of her that was thinking of another man's tattooed, calloused hands on her body.
A rap on the window caused her to jump, clenching her hands back into fists as Mark waved, sheepishly, at her from the other side of the glass. The flowers grasped in his fist swayed in the breeze.
Stepping out of her car, Mark moved to hug her. Holding out her hand to stop him she growled, "I'm already on edge. Don't make it worse." Striding around him and towards the plot of land where the box that Billy was supposed to be in laid dormant under the soil.
A place holder.
Nothing more.
Mark's shoulders sank as he watched her go. Physical contact had been difficult for her since Billy had gone. It was small, but he noticed. Every time he pulled her into a hug when she showed up at training, she'd stiffen, then it turned into her barely reciprocating until she refused them altogether. It made his heart ache, she used to hug everyone no matter if they had known each forever or four minutes.
But then again, she'd just become more withdrawn in general. It broke his heart to see it. Watching her light fade and dim, it was like a star becoming a black hole.
Crunching through the sun dried grass toward the plot, she kept her head down, barreling towards her destination. Figuring that if she walked faster, she could outpace her thoughts before they could catch up with her and the realization of where she was and where she was headed could crush her.
This was the first time they were visiting Billy's grave since she’d started training to become a Sky Walker. Mark and Jean had tried to get her to go sooner but it hadn't been until Mary asked (Y/N) if she would meet her there did she finally acquiesce.
The only memory she had of Mary was after the funeral. Watching Mary and her mother walk arm in arm back to their car, their shared grief following them like a cloud.
At that moment, (Y/N) had envied them. They had each other. Their shared love for Billy would be a balm, it would help them try to heal. She only had herself and her memories. Neither of which were particularly warm or comforting at the moment.
"Whoa, easy." Two hands wrapped around her biceps, bringing her to an abrupt stop.
Looking up, she was met with the same sky blue eyes that Billy had, framed by lashes that were almost as long as Billy's. Blond hair pulled back into a ponytail, Mary smiled ruefully at her, "Just trying to get this over with huh?"
Forcing herself to swallow over the lump that had suddenly formed in her throat, she nodded wordlessly. Mary's eyes took in her form, noting how her clothes seemed to hang on her, the dull, flinty look her eyes had. Mutely, she linked her arm through (Y/N)'s, pulling her into her side.
Taking a deep breath, they both turned to look at the headstone in front of them. Seeing his name carved into stone caused her heart to speed up. Scolding herself for being so silly for getting twitter-patted over his name. What was she, fourteen?
But she couldn't help it.
"It's weird."
Humming in acknowledgment, (Y/N) didn't know if Mary meant them being here together, the fact that her brother was dead or just the world in general.
"It's weird that that little line," Mary gestured toward the line in between the numbers that marked when he had been born and when he died, "is supposed to represent his whole life. Everything he said and did. Everyone he loved."
The emotional toll of hearing those words uttered by his sister caused all of the air in (Y/N)'s lungs to leave, her heart to splinter into even tinier parts. Wobbling, she grasped Mary's arm tightly as Mary wound another arm around (Y/N)'s waist to keep her upright.
“(Y/N!) Easy, you okay?"
The weight of Mark's hand on her shoulder helped ground her in reality. Her twisted reality where it wasn't Billy's hand on her shoulder. And it never would be again.
Straightening up, she tugged on the end of her coat, shaking her head, "Yeah. Yes. I'm fine. Just, it's a lot."
Mark nodded, eyes taking in his sisters appearance, trying not to seem too shocked that this was the most she had revealed her feelings to him, to anyone, in the past few weeks.
Locking eyes with Mary's blue ones over top of (Y/N)'s head, he mouthed a quick thank you in which she inclined her head to show she understood.
Mark had been in contact with Mary constantly. First it was getting names of counselors and support groups to help his sister heal, then it turned into them talking and developing a...something. They had developed a relationship that neither were sure what to call but seeing her here caused his heart to flutter.
Feeling (Y/N)’s shoulders rise and fall, he lifted his arm so she could step out from underneath them, "I'll see you guys later."
Opening his mouth, Mark tried to protest but when he felt Mary's hand land on his bicep, he closed it. (Y/N)'s all black form grew to be a small speck on the blue horizon.
He was surprised the whole ground didn't open up to swallow her at that moment. She looked like a specter of death. But he supposed what she really was was worse. She was a casualty of death, and there was no hope for that.
~Nine Months After the Funeral~
A few months of intense training later, after she had executed one of the most difficult tricks Jean and Mark had designed, Jean finally told her she was ready to go after Chase.
"Fucking finally." she groaned, wiping the sweat from her face with the bottom of her shirt, “I’m going to rinse off and change, then meet me at my apartment!” she yelled over her shoulder as she raced to the locker room.
Jean nodded and several minutes later, hair still damp, raised a fist to knock on her front door. Before he could knock, the door swung open to reveal her laptop open and her kitchen table covered with charts, maps and blueprints of Chase’s compound.
“What took you so long?”
Jean whistled as he took it all in, "When did you do this?"
"When I first read that news article about Chase. So..here's what I'm thinking." Laying out her plan, Jean couldn't help feeling impressed. It was foolproof. He was also relieved that all she wanted was to bring Chase to justice, share his personal files with the government and the entire Internet so she could expose him then get the hell out of there.
As she laid out the plan she was careful not to mention how much Chase needed to pay for all the lives he took with his negligence and selfishness. She kept emotion out of her tone, just the facts, as she walked Jean through her plan to bring Chase to justice.
But she knew justice wouldn’t be enough.
Justice was never enough for people like that. Because the rules of justice were skewed so men like that always got off scot free. In her heart of hearts, she knew it didn’t matter if she leaked every atrocious thing he’d ever done. He'd be back out in the public eye in a few years and no one would bat an eyelash because he had money, power and privilege. The three most essential ingredients to make any good villain.
She wouldn't be able to live with herself if this man was able to walk away. If she didn't do right by Isabella, she didn't know how she'd be able to continue living with herself.
"From there, I'll get the files, download them to the flash drive, hack into the mainframe, deposit them there and then get the hell out. Minimal damage, minimal casualties, maximum impact."
"That's how most people describe having sex with me."
"I don't have time to unpack how distressing all of that is right now but, what do you think? Is it doable? And will you and Mark help me?"
Jean's eyes scanned the blueprints before him. He saw how her fingers were beating an erratic beat on her thighs, how her feet constantly shifted as if she wanted to take off in a million directions at once. This was the most animated he'd seen her in weeks. He knew this may be their only chance to really get her settled, let her burn off some steam with a mission and then they could get her back to her old self.
Heaving a giant sigh, he hung his head down, "Fucking fine. We'll do it. BUT," his head snapped up and almost felt bad when he saw the smile that had slipped across her face fade. Almost. "You listen to us. Mark and I have final say in all of this. Got it? We've done this before and while you'll be the one in the field, we have markedly more experience so let us do what we do best. Got it?"
He stuck out his hand for her to shake. Her (Y/E/C) eyes flitted over his features, seeing if he'd break or if he was just pulling her leg. When she saw nothing but sincerity looking back at her, she slipped her hand into his. "Deal."
Jean almost started crying when a sparkle caught his eye, her thumb had a final bit of pink sparkly nail polish on it, making him wonder if he had made a terrible mistake.
~A Week Later~
"I'm in."
Part of her always cringed whenever she said those two words. She couldn't help but think of a shaggy haired, pre-pubescent 12-year old, huddled over their laptop, fingers clacking frantically, the glow of their computer screen the only thing illuminating the Mountain Dew bottles surrounding them.
But, it just came with the job she supposed.
Creeping along the hall, she checked over her shoulder. Feeling the familiar flutter of adrenaline spike in her stomach, she reached for the package that was hidden in her pocket. As her fingers brushed over its cylindrical shape she felt her shoulders relax. Then, she moved her hand down further to make sure the knife she’d strapped to her thigh was still firmly in place, that really helped her to relax.
She quickly sent up a thank you to Cassandra, wherever she was, for leaving her knife sharpening kit at Mark’s place. The linoleum underneath her feet reflected the dim red light that ran along the length of the hallway.
"In 20 feet you're going to reach the checkpoint. Remember, there's a big ass-"
"Grid of invisible wires, yeah yeah. I know, Jean. We went over this a million times."
"Well, with how little you pay attention during those meetings I'm surprised you can even remember the address."
"How about you shut the fuck up and let me do my damn job?" she snarled into her comms.
Blocks away, Jean ripped his headset off to shake his head at Mark who just sighed, eyes never leaving the computer screen where his sisters grainy form was seen lurking towards the wire netting, "I know, dude. I know."
"Fucking Billy. If only he hadn't-"
"Jean. Please. We all still wish he was here. Don't make it harder."
Huffing out a breath, Jean turned back to the keyboard, shoving his headphones back into place as he deactivated the alarms to the rooms (Y/N) needed to get in to.
Throwing a strand of her hair into the hallway, she nodded when it settled to the floor without getting zapped.
"You really don't trust me, do you (Y/N)?
"I trust you, I just don't trust the security protocols in this place. A fortress like this has to have backups of the backups."
"Bitch! That's why we're here!"
Snorting at how high Jean's tone had gotten, she continued prowling toward the door that led into Chase’s inner sanctum. He didn't let anyone but a select few into the room that was waiting for her at the end of the hallway. It was where he kept all of his documents, where he entertained foreign emissaries and got them to sign off on him dumping his toxic waste in the water because who cared about people's health when he could make a few more dollars?
Shaking her head to straighten her brain out, she took a deep breath as she tread closer to the intimidating mahogany door that loomed before her.
Glancing down, she saw the pad to the left of the door, they needed a retinal scan to get in. She waited as from miles away, Mark's hands were flying over the keyboard as he worked his magic. Using a close up image of Chase's eye they had captured a few weeks ago, he embedded it into the code for the lock. When it lit up green she smirked, "Thanks, big brother."
"Don't thank me yet. Expose that fucking loser and come home safely. Then we can talk."
Nudging the door open, she made a beeline for the imposing white desk in front of the picture window looking out over, ironically, the ocean. Rolling her eyes, she briskly walked over to his computer. Fingers gliding over the keys, fishing around in the pocket of her black athletic leggings, she cursed, "Why the FUCK do women's pockets always have to be so small."
"It's just another way for the patriarchy to keep you down. Hard on, sister."
Pausing in her actions, she raised her eyes up, fixing on a distant point as she opened and closed her mouth, ready to correct Jean when Mark's voice rang through her comms, "He's got the right spirit. Just let him have this."
Shrugging, she bent down to the task at hand, inserting the USB, opening up files and dumping them onto the Internet and sending them to the entire UN Embassy, every government official, Greenpeace and the whole world to condemn this monster.
As she finished uploading the last of Chase’s files to the EPA’s mainframe, she heard footsteps approaching.
And right on time.
"Uhh, (Y/N)? Don't mean to alarm you but Chase himself and four armed guards are barreling down on you. Get out the window NOW and meet at the rendezvous point."
Hearing how Mark's voice shook on the last word caused her to pause for a fraction of a second, wondering if she was making the right choice. Like a flash, she shook herself from her stupor and straightened up. Pulling the USB out of the computer she dropped it into her pocket, reaching a finger up to disconnect her comms, "I know. I planned for it. Sorry boys. I’ll see you on the other side" She clicked her comms off just as she heard Jean and Mark start to protest.
Closing her eyes, she rolled her shoulders. Reaching back into her pocket she took out the extra package she’d been carrying and set it on the desk.
Carefully, she extracted the vile and needle that was inside.
When the door burst open, all Chase saw was a woman, silhouetted by moonlight, holding a needle up to the light, tapping it a few times.
"Nice of you to join me, Chase. Won't you sit down?" she murmured.
"Who the fuck are you, you crazy bitch? I have the entire government on my ass, PETA has threatened with more than one lawsuit and the FBI, EPA and other three letter entities aren't far behind to pick me up and haul me off for the rest of my life. So," he stepped to the edge of the desk, slamming his palms down, "I'll ask one more time. Who.The. FUCK. Are. You?"
Watching the last air bubble pop, she smiled. She had never felt so calm in her life and when her eyes dragged from the needle to meet Chase’s, he was surprised to see a serene looking woman staring back at him.
"You killed people. So now I'm going to kill you."
And she lunged forward.
Her hand came down holding the needle, aiming for the largest artery in his neck. Eyes widening, he stumbled back, arms pinwheeling. Knocking the needle from her hand, she watched it twist through the air, the moon reflecting off the glass and then she lost it as it hit the plush carpet without a sound.
She didn't have too much time to think about it because all of a sudden the four men that had come in with Chase were on her.
Leaping onto the desk, she wrapped her thighs around the neck of the man closest to her. Thanking Mark for bullying her into never skipping leg day, she squeezed her legs around his neck as he spun wildly, trying to dislodge her. Hands scrambling at her thighs, he dropped to his knees where she unwound her legs from his shoulders, dropping to the ground and turning in one swift motion, she kneed him in the face, turning to the next man as the one on the floor tried in vain to stop the fountain of blood flowing from his nose.
Another one was right on her as she aimed a punch right to his midsection, hearing an “OOF” leave his mouth, she kicked his legs out from underneath him. As he landed, she raced in between his legs, located his kneecap and with a twist of her wrist, dislocated it with a sharp POP.
With a howl, he rolled around on the ground as the one with the bloody nose limped over to help. Breathing heavily she turned, only to be faced with the other two bearing down on her.
Jesus, she thought, Star Wars always led me to believe the bad guys would come at me one at a time. Not all at once.
It was the last thought she remembered having before she could only focus on trying to make it out alive.
One of the men grabbed her arm, she grabbed his wrist, finding a pressure point and bore down until his fingers loosened around her wrist. Not letting up, she snapped his wrist and kicked him in the groin.
As he slumped to the ground, the other one grabbed her ankle, yanking her leg out from underneath her causing her to face plant into the carpet. Her hands scrabbled for anything to hold onto as he dragged her body towards him. Twisting, she reached for her knife. As he reached a hand down toward her throat, she brought it up in one quick motion.
She rolled away as the man screamed in agony as he searched for his missing finger. Scrambling to her feet, she felt something collide with the back of her head. Her vision began to swim as the carpet came up to meet her face once again. She’d forgotten about the first guard who had been attending to the second man she’d taken down. Now, he stood over her, teeth bared, blood still flowing from his nose, gun cocked and aimed right in between her eyes.
"Wait!"
Chase's form became clearer as he knelt down beside her, "You don't deserve to die by a bullet do you?" He cooed as he stroked a finger down her cheek. Turning her head, she tried to snap at his finger but the quick movement caused her to retch.
Laughing softly, she heard the tap of fingernails hitting a glass vile, "You deserve to die by your own little concoction. It’s much more poetic, don't you think?"
He leaned over her, bringing his mouth to her ear as he caressed her arm, rubbing two fingers over the crook of her elbow, "Like Romeo and Juliet but, darling Juliet" she hissed as he stabbed the needle into her arm, "This time, Romeo will live. And he'll win." He pressed the release and she felt a tear leak from her eye when suddenly, the world exploded.
Glass fell over her form like stars falling from the sky as the bright lights of a stealth helicopter illuminated the room. The man with the bloody nose whipped his gun toward the window, firing rapidly but quickly crumpled as someone strode right up to him, and shot him point blank.
Chase scrambled up, hands out in front of him, "What the fuck is this? Are you CIA? FBI? Listen, I have more money than God, I can set you up for the rest of your life. You'll never have to worry-"
A gunshot was the only answer Chase got.
"More than one person can have more money than God, ass-wipe." The figure kicked Chase's body as he walked past him, his form swimming before (Y/N) as the poison leaked into her blood stream, "And besides," he knelt down by her form, fingers searching for a pulse, "I use reusable straws because baby turtles are cute as fuck."
Her head lolled to the side as she used the last bits of her strength to see who her savior was. A man with a rugged face stared back as he moved to crouch behind her, cradling her head in his hands as he yelled to someone behind him to hurry the fuck up.
A second face looked down at her as she felt her eyelids begin to close, the hushed sounds of the man holding her head offering soothing platitudes as she made peace with the fact that she was about to die.
As the second person rifled through the medical bag they had been carrying, hurriedly pulling out instruments, the last thing she heard was the man whispering into her ear, "Come on darling. Hold on for me. Hold on for him."
~Three Days Later~
Bright.
That was her first thought as her eyelids fluttered open and immediately closed upon being assaulted by blinding white light.
For a wild second she thought she had gone to heaven.
"I know what you're thinking. Is this heaven? No. It's not. Because if this were heaven I'd be smoking a fat blunt, drinking the finest gin while lying on a nude beach where no living person could bother me. People like you."
The squeal of chair legs being dragged over the floor caused her to flinch. The voice that spoke was dry, making her wonder if this man ever took anything seriously. And also if he could read minds.
"Pretty good stunts you pulled out there. You learn that shit from watching Black Widow too many times?"
Silence. She tried to keep her breath steady so maybe he would think she was still asleep.
"Sweetheart, I just saw your eyelids crack open a second ago. There's no way in hell you dropped back off to sleep that quickly."
"Shouldn't I be dead?" It felt like her vocal cords were two pieces of sandpaper rubbing together. The sound that was expunged from her throat was a dry husk.
"Should be but, like Chase, I have more money than God and a crack team of experts. One of whom happens to know exactly what was in that vial and the antidote for it. You've been stable and asleep for three days now."
He saw her eyebrows twitch, which he figured was the most reaction he would get out of her.
Keeping her eyes closed made it easier to digest the information he was throwing at her and to keep her poker face in tact. The voice sounded familiar to her, but she couldn't place where or when, she’d heard it before.
"Is he-?"
"Dead? Yeah. A half dose of poison most people can come back from, but a bullet right through the skull? Much like Humpty Dumpty, we can't exactly put that back together again."
She felt her lips twitch and scolded herself for letting any emotion show through.
"He deserved it."
"I know. And you deserve to use your skills in a better way." Her body stilled, her breath stopped for a beat and when it resumed, the monologue continued, "I have...fuck I hate sounding like Samuel L. Jackson but I have a team. And we could use someone like you."
Another scraping sound, the soft rustle of fabric moving as the voice sounded like it was coming over her, "Think about it. And I'll contact you. Don't worry. I always keep my promises."
Her hands clenched, the veins popping out as those five words washed over her like a cold shower.
The clenched hands were all the reaction he needed.
Hearing his footsteps get softer she reached a hand down and felt a piece of cardstock brush against her finger tips. When the door closed, she cracked open an eyelid to look down at it, but it was blank.
~~~
Closing the door, One leaned up against the hallway, letting his head knock against the wall of the hospital.
Four had warned him.
But this made things incredibly interesting.
Or difficult. It all depended on how he wanted to view the situation.
And what she wanted.
After the funeral, One’d kept a close eye on Four. He knew what kind of pull love could have over a man. And Four was young. The youngest on the team in age, sure, but he let his feelings get the better of him a lot of the time which made him seem even younger.
Which could be dangerous. And they were already in way too much danger as it was on a daily basis so he needed to nip it in the bud.
Closing his eyes, he thought about the first time he caught Four.
~Two Months Ago~
It had been quiet.
The wind whistled through the various holes that littered the planes, causing sand to get whipped up along with it, tornadoes forming and quickly collapsing.
One had been awake. He rarely slept but he had been in the Case Room, going over some files. Trying to decide what their next mission needed to be when he heard a noise.
Keeping his body still, he strained his ears to see if he would hear it again. When he heard the floor creak, he crept to the door, peering out to see who or what it could possibly be.
Seeing the familiar shape of Four's hoodie, he rolled his eyes. When he saw him creep into the control room, he became suspicious. He knew how tempting the draw was to check on the ones you cared about. But with how emotionally fragile Four had been since he'd joined, he didn't think this was the best idea, but he needed to confirm that’s what he was doing before he blew up on the kid.
Pushing the door open, he walked down the hallway, being careful to tread lightly so as not to alert Four to his presence till he absolutely needed to.
Using his years of training, he placed his body precisely so he could look into the room but Four wouldn't be able to see him should he look around. Which, he didn't think would be an issue. Four was engrossed by the screen in front of him, One didn't think a nuclear explosion would cause him to look up.
Taking his chances, he slunk into the room. Four had footage of an apartment pulled up on the screens. Three people, two guys, one girl, standing around a table. Four had headphones on so One couldn't hear the audio but it looked like the individuals on screen were in the middle of an intense argument.
Nibbling his thumbnail, Four's eyes were laser focused on the woman as she gesticulated wildly. Blueprints, computer screens and maps littered every available surface of the apartment and One recognized the planning stages of a mission. He got a little closer and recognized the girl on screen as the same one who had been at Four's funeral.
Four had told him his background on the trip over to HQ. One figured the other two were the ones that were left over from his original Sky Walker crew.
(He’d roasted Four about that dumbass name for weeks afterward.)
Shaking his head, One heaved a sigh and reached forward to snatch the headphones off Four's head.
"HEY! Who the bloody hell-" Four's frame twisted up and out of the chair only to come to an immediate stop when he saw who had his headphones dangling from their fingertips.
"Didn't know The Bachelorette had a new season running! Are they in the hometown segment?"
Four blinked at him, "It's really distressing you know that much about The Bachelorette."
"What's really distressing is the fact that you're checking up on her. What the fuck do you think you're doing Four?"
"Look, I'm sorry but-"
"No. There are no buts here. Even if her butt is really nice, you gotta put it behind you dude. Especially her."
"I know that, One but-"
One had started pacing back and forth as he warmed to the topic before him, "Do you know how much money is on the line here? How much is at stake? Our lives, our very existence, this could all blow up at any point and we could die. For real. Or, even worse, the government comes in, blows up our spot and we get sentenced to death. Or worse, jail. And you yourself have such fond feelings of, what did you call them? The pigs?" One shot Four a disgruntled look at that statement, noting how Four's hands were clenching and unclenching in an attempt to stay cool.
"Look, One, I just-"
Rounding on him, pointing a finger in his face One roared, "No, Four, you just. You clearly don't want to be part of this team. Clearly I made a mistake in asking you to be part of this if you can't get over the little school girl crush you have on this girl you slept with once and she sucked your dick so well that you mistook it for love-"
His air supply was cut off as Four slammed One up against the wall. The tattoos decorating his hand popped against his skin as he gripped One’s windpipe in a steel trap. For the first time since bringing Four onto the team, One was truly afraid of him and understood why he was so good at what he did.
The look in Four's eyes cowed One immediately as Four growled out the next few sentences, "You listen up right here, right now you fucking prick," Slamming his head back into the wall One saw stars, "Her name is (Y/N) and she is worth more than any person on this damn planet. She's the best person I’ve ever been with and I’m damn lucky she even deigned to give me the time of day. She’s the reason I even joined this bloody insane operation, so show some fucking respect or I'll have no problem slitting your throat and moving on with my life."
One's vision was getting black around the edges as he frantically nodded his head at Four’s words. Four let him go where he collapsed to the floor on hands and knees, coughing as Four paced around the room, scrubbing at the shaved sides of his head with his fists.
After a few seconds of coughing, One rubbed at his throat as he pushed himself up, "You're fucking crazy, dude. Really glad I recruited you. That's the kind of attitude we need out in the field."
Four shook his head as he let out a humorless laugh as One brushed his hands off, "You don't understand One. You never will."
"Cut the emo bullshit. We're not in Twilight. We're adults, just tell me what-" He stopped as Four swiftly turned to face him, eyes pleading,
"She became a Sky Walker, One. She's doing what I used to do because she doesn't think her life has any meaning and that's bullshit. She's my everything, okay? She's the reason I get up in the morning. She's the reason I do this damn job. She's the reason I keep myself alive out there. She's my guiding light. She's the sunshine on a cloudy day and-and” he waved his hands around uselessly as he tried desperately to pull another cliche from thin air, “I don’t know, man. She’s every other cliche you know about how someone makes your world better and she's putting herself at risk because of me"
One stood stock still as Four took another deep breath in, the fire in his eyes going from an inferno to embers as he stared at the screen where it showed her bending over the blueprints, tracing a line with her finger, "She's the love of my life and-" taking a shuddery breath in One felt his own eyes start to get misty, "Her light is the one thing that keeps me going in this miserable world. And if she's gone, I don't know if I'll make it." A tear made its way down One’s cheek as Four admitted this last part on a whisper.
One wasn't sure he was supposed to hear that last part but there was stillness as the room held its breath as it waited for what One would have to say,
"Alright. What do you need from me?"
Four's eyes snapped to One's. Stepping closer to One, his eyes roved over his face, trying to tell if he meant it, "You're not messing with me are you?"
"Not in this regard. Probably over something else I will but, what would make you feel better?"
Four took a second to contemplate it, "If she does seem like she's in trouble with this mission, we rescue her.” His eyes widened as he took another step closer to One, “AND, you offer her a spot on the team."
"Four-"
"One it's this or you lose me for good if she-she- '' Four's voice cracked as he turned his head away. Not even able to finish that horrible thought.
One’s heart squeezed in his chest. Christ, he thought, I’m more invested in their relationship than any bystander should be.
Groaning, One rubbed the bridge of his nose, "Fucking fine. I'm so going to regret this but...fuck it. If it seems like things are going sideways, we'll step in. I'll offer her a place on the team." Four started to smile but One stepped forward, pointing a finger in his face, "You have to meet with her before she makes her final decision though. I can offer it to her but she gets the final call if she wants to do this thing with us. With you. Got it?"
Nodding frantically, Four closed the gap between the two of them and wrapped One in a hug, "Oh, so we talk about our feelings for two minutes and all of a sudden we're into hugs? Weird."
Four let him go and with one last look at the screens, bade One goodnight.
Watching him leave, One turned to the screens, watching her analyze the blueprints, writing notes on them occasionally. Leaning on the back of the rolling chair One sighed, "Oh (Y/N), you have no idea what you've done."
~~~
Reaching into his pocket, One slide his phone out, shooting a quick text to Four,
She’s awake. And alive. Now we wait.
Heaving a sigh, he glanced down the hallway to see Seven approaching. Making eye contact with One, he raised his arms up as if to say, Well? What's happening?
"Fuck if I know. She's insane.” At Seven’s bug eyed look he quickly backpedaled, “In a good way. I don't think she's insane in, like, a psychological way. Just grieving."
"Oh good because grief is such a good emotion to grapple with in this line of work. Oh, and by the way did we mention that the man she’s grieving is actually alive and well?"
"You know, sarcasm is really ugly on you. Luckily, I'm not ugly so I can wear sarcasm well."
Snorting, Seven slumped against the wall next to One, letting his own head thud softly against the wall. Crossing his arms they both stared ahead at an unknowable future.
Seven broke the silence, "What really happens now, One. I mean, I know she's good, we all saw her in action. Taking out all four of those guards? Her entire plan was foolproof. It was impressive, no doubt but this is a tricky situation, one that none of us has ever had to deal with before."
"I know, I know." One let those four words out on a single huff of breath. Groaning he squeezed his eyes closed, "Why did I have to pick the one man on this earth who's desperately in love with a girl who so happened to be desperately in love with him and then they both went full Batman when they lost each other?"
"Because you see yourself in Four. That's why."
One's eyes slid over to Seven, "That doesn't leave this hallway."
Nodding once to show he understood, Seven pressed himself up. Twisting his body so he was facing One, his posture the only remnant to remind everyone he was once the perfect soldier, "But seriously One, what now. What can I do?"
Pressing his hands against the wall, One heaved himself up with a grunt, "Solve this for me?" The single eyebrow raise was the only answer he got, "Alright, alright. Come on. We need to go back and debrief everyone on this crazy shit. Don't know how I'm going to use small enough words to explain this to Three."
"You're on your own for that one dude." Seven laughed as they ambled down the hall, laughter dying on his lips his face fell into a serious mask, "How do you think Four's going to handle it?"
"If I knew I wouldn't be having this charming heart-to-heart with you."
"Seriously man, you're not even a little bit worried?"
"I'm freaking out dude!" Seven was brought up short as One rounded on him, gesticulating wildly, "This is no man's land! Even more so than this original idea! Four's so deep in his feelings with this girl and she's clearly heartbroken about him being gone and is on a one-woman train toward self-destruction that she's determined to meet him in death and” One’s eyes widened comically, “Ooooh my god I've Romeo and Juliet-ed them. Holy shit, I'm the Nurse. I'm too beautiful to be The Nurse!"
Gently prying One's hands from his collar, Seven looked him dead in the eye, "You have got to get a grip. You're spiraling and it's making your eyes go in two different directions."
Crushing his eyes closed, One took a deep breath in, "You're right. You're right. I need to get it together. We can handle this." Stepping back One hopped up and down on the balls of his feet, punching the air, "I need you to slap me."
The crack of Seven's palm making contact with his cheek sent One staggering back several steps.
"OW! What the fuck? No hesitation? No asking if I was sure?"
"I've been wanting to do that since the day you broke into my apartment." Seven shrugged as One glared at him, cupping his pink cheek.
"Fine, but it did help clear my head. So. Thanks. I guess."
Seven smirked.
"Alright, the plan. Let's talk to Four first. He needs to understand that for this to work, he needs to talk to her one on one. And it has to be her call. We can't influence her. If she wants in, fine but they need to work through their shit. And if she says no? Then we let her walk back to her life. And Four needs to respect that. He has to let her go."
"Easier said than done. I've seen his face when he looks at pictures of her on his phone."
"Yeah well, bet you didn't know he's also been following her? Keeping watch over her via surveillance tapes? And tracking her home?”
That brought Seven up short, "No? What the fuck?"
"I know. If it was anybody else's story I would have called the cops ages ago. As it is, it’s kind of romantic"
~A Week Later~
"We're all ghosts down here. Except, we don't float. One because gravity's intact and two because I'm not a cannibalistic clown."
"Could've fooled me."
"Didn't know I recruited fucking Tina Fey over here. Anyway, here's headquarters. Or home sweet home." One said in that same drole way he had of phrasing everything.
Walking through the punishing desert to get to the graveyard of felled planes had caused a shiver to pass through her. She did her best to suppress it but it was difficult. Passing through the giant hulking masses of steel caused her to feel like she was encroaching on the territory of ancient deities. The area felt loaded with their silence, the carnage keeping a silent watch as their footfalls disrupted the grains of sand that were being buffeted by the wind that swirled through the gaping openings in the bellies of the planes.
It had been a week since she’d been discharged from the hospital, well, not hospital, but the private sanctuary One had kept her at while she healed.
He had come into her room the day after he had left his card, shock on his face at seeing her sitting up, arms crossed.
"What the hell do you do and how do I fit into it?"
The single eyebrow she raised at One prompted him to explain, in detail, everything they did and what it would entail.
She’d been silent, eyes focused on his face, not making any sounds or moving until he finished his spiel. Then nodding, she asked one question,
"When do I start?"
He explained that her death would be easy to fake since she had technically almost died anyway. What he he hadn't told her was he hadn’t made it public just yet, he didn't want to make her brother and friend worry too much. Or give them a false alarm only for her to waltz back from the dead if she couldn’t handle being with Four.
So, here she was, following One up the stairs of the largest plane carcass. Pushing aside the plastic curtains that did their best to keep sunlight, sand and bugs out, he extended an arm in an exaggerated bow.
"I do hope it's to your liking Princess."
"Don't call me that you prick." She murmured as she breezed past him, pausing in the doorway to let her eyes adjust to the dim interior of the plane after being out in the searing sunlight.
The main room held more computer monitors than she had ever seen. She thought Mark's setup of four monitors had been impressive but the wall of screens staring back at her made her realize how rookie their operation had been.
A large silver table in the middle held a commanding presence and she knew, instinctively, that One felt most comfortable at the head of it, barking orders while still being able to hit the group in front of him with a sarcastic jab or two.
Taking a few hesitant steps forward she peered at the weapons lining the back wall. Snorting, she gestured to it lazily, turning her head to pierce One with a gaze, "You preparing for the apocalypse or do I require this much of a security detail?"
One's face broke into a fake smile as he leaned forward, placing his hands on his knees as he wheezed a few times, "Oh my god, sweetheart, oh god, please, stop, my stomach, it can't take the hilarity anymore, please, god." With that last word the smile dropped from his face and he stood up straight, crossing his arms over his chest,
"We're a group of vigilantes that have a specific subset of skills that makes us some of the most dangerous people on the planet. We go after the people that are even more dangerous than us. You think we just talk about our feelings and politely ask them to stop committing human rights atrocities?"
Brushing past her he shook his head, "Unbelievable." Muttering about new blood while he started down the hallway.
Eyes dancing over the various boards lighting up, she had the unmistakable sense that someone was watching her. One had told her there were five more that she would meet so she wondered if one of them was about to jump her as a weird sort of initiation.
But when she turned her head to the entrance, there was nothing.
Just the wind, blowing the plastic flaps back and forth. Scanning over the area she could have sworn the darkest corners contained something that was intrigued with her. Taking a hesitant step forward, One's voice jolted her out of her paranoia, "Hey, Amy Poehler, you coming to share more of your classic wit with the whole class or are you just going to dilly dick around all day? C'mon, I'm a busy man."
"Coming!" She yelled back, turning on her heel to jog down the hallway after him, turning her head one last time to make sure no ghosts were following.
~
Billy breathed a sigh of relief. He knew that today was the day he’d have to face her. He and One had discussed it extensively last night. One had been adamant, don't get attached to her being on the team before she explicitly says she wants to stick around, you know the rules, I know Seven changed things a little but this is getting into a whole new territory of softness and on and on while Billy had just sat there, taking it.
One finally ran out of steam (Billy wondered, not for the first time, if One had a coke addiction to get all the energy he needed) and Billy nodded his head, chewing over everything One had just said. He opened his mouth, preparing to show One how much he understood, how this was him only looking out for the team and adding a valuable asset. What came out of his mouth surprised him and One,
"I love her. I need her or else I won't make it through this life alive." He lifted his eyes to One and One took a sharp intake of breath. He had never seen Billy so open, so vulnerable. Even when he had been on the brink of dying, twice.
Searching his blue eyes, One sighed, dragging a hand over his face, squeezing his eyes shut as he scrubbed at his hair, groaning, "Fuck me, I must be getting soft in my old age. FINE. But remember. You have to talk to her. If you two can't work through your shit, she's gone. Poof. Vamoose. Got that? This is her choice. She gets to make the call if she stays, if she wants to work with you and if she leaves. Not you. Capisce?"
Billy nodded, trying his hardest to mask the eagerness he felt at the possibility of being with (Y/N) again. Being around her light, feeling that same pull into her warmth.
So, how could anyone blame him for wanting to see her as soon as she stepped foot into headquarters?
He had lurked in the shadows, pulling his hood over his hair, making sure his eyes were concealed. His eyes were her favorite part of him, she had told him during those amazing 24 hours they had shared together.
Billy couldn't believe it had been 365 days since they had seen each other. It felt like it had gone by so fast. But then again, he’d been all over the world, fighting bad guys and overthrowing dictators, (Y/N) had been living her life.
And started Sky Walker training which he was going to have to talk to her about that.
When she walked in, Billy had shrank even farther into the shadows, biting his tongue till he tasted blood, so he wouldn’t scream out her name.
It was still the same (Y/N) he’d fallen in love with, longer hair, more muscles but what really threw him was her eyes. They were the same color but the warmth that he had come to love was extinguished. Replaced with a flinty resolve that if anyone talked or looked at her, they would get their ass kicked.
It was the first time that he started to wonder if maybe this was the best idea. And let himself ponder the idea that she could potentially say no. That she wouldn't want to see him. That she would never be able to forgive him.
But he needed to know. He needed to try, he needed to show up for himself and for her. To show her that he still loved her, that he had always loved her.
Stepping out of the shadows, he pulled his hood down, making his way to the meeting room where they’d be waiting for him.
It wasn't till he brought his hand down from his hood that he realized his hands were shaking.
~
"Hola, Papi. Who's this lovely lady sitting here? My birthday isn't until next week." Three smirked as he pulled a chair out for himself, aiming a lazy wink at (Y/N). Her months of seducing men just like him in bars kicked in and she winked back, letting a slow smile crawl across her face.
An intimidating blonde woman kicked his chair as she sank into her own, "I meet your mother and this is the thanks I get?"
"You know I didn't mean it mi amor. I've only got eyes for you."
"And apparently any other attractive woman in a six mile radius." She extended her hand to (Y/N), "I'm Two. Nice to meet you."
Grasping Two’s hand in her own, she shook it, impressed with the strength of the woman's grip.
"Well, since you and Two are so happy together, this is my time to shine. I'm Seven." Seven grabbed her hand, pulling it up to his lips and pressed a kiss to it, holding her prone in his stare. He pulled back, winking at her and she felt a blush climb into her cheeks, "(Y/N). You have a much better chance than Three does at getting into these Nike leggings."
Seven's jaw dropped as One made a retching noise and Five stepped forward, extending her hand "I don't want to get into your leggings but I’m glad there's someone else here who's trained to keep these idiots alive."
(Y/N) shook her hand, smiling back at her, "Surprised they've lasted this long with just one doctor."
"You and me both." Rolling her eyes she turned to One, "This the one we picked up from Casewell’s joint?”
“The very same” was One’s reply as he flicked through the folder in his hands.
Five’s eyebrows rose up as a low whistle escaped her lips, “Shit. Well, I’m definitely glad you came around then. I’m assuming you’re the one who brought the vile of polonium?”
(Y/N) nodded, very aware of every eye in the room assessing her, sizing her up. It was like being in a room with Cassandra but multiplied by five.
“We saw you in action. Very impressive.” Two chimed in, crossing her arms over her chest.
Everyone else nodded as she tried her best to tamp out the flush of appreciation building in her cheeks. Snorting, she deflected, “Thanks. I guess you guys couldn’t have stepped in earlier to help, huh?”
“Sweetheart that’s not really our style. And in case you missed the chopper outside the building, we’re very particular about our style.” Flinging the folder down on the table, One braced his hands on the back of a chair, “So, now you’ve met everyone. The whole Brady Bunch of chucklefucks before you.”
(Y/N) had been mentally going over everyone's names in her head, when she furrowed her brow, "Hold on, either I’m dumber than I thought or your numbers are all out of whack. Where are Six and Four?"
Seven flicked his eyes to Two. Five shifted in her seat, opening her mouth when One cut her off, "Six is no longer with us and Four will be in shortly. I wanted you to meet the whole team first, get a feel for us, then meet Four and make your decision if you'd want to stay with us."
Cocking her head she flicked her eyes to One, "Why? Is Four like a 4Chan meninist who hates women? Why would he be the catalyst for whether I stay or go?"
Since meeting him, this was the first time she had seen One at a loss for words. It made her pulse speed up, clenching her hands into fists she tried to ignore the moisture that had started to accumulate on her palms.
One opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again, only to sigh and rub the bridge of his nose as he moved to the door of the meeting room they had been in, "It's probably easier if we just get this over with. Alright. Everyone out. C'mon hurry up." He waved his hands impatiently at the rest of the team standing around. Reluctantly they all started to move, Seven and Three grumbling about how they didn't want to miss any of the drama. Everyone stopped when her chair clattered to the floor, hands clenched at her sides as she took a step toward the door.
"What drama? One? What's going on?" She hated how shaky her voice came out but she couldn't help it. What did they mean? Was Four their muscle? Was it a weird hazing thing? Would she have to try to kill this person? Try to make it out of this room alive?
One was standing half in and half out of the doorway, hand closed over the door knob. Turning back, he locked eyes with her (Y/E/C) ones.
Her blood ran cold. He looked, sorry. Almost like he pitied her. She was pretty sure One didn't have feelings so to see this much emotion directed at her?
She was terrified.
"It'll all make sense. Just...do what you think is right. Okay? You seem like a smart kid. Trust your gut."
And with those cryptic words he left, shutting the door. Sealing her in to wait for this new threat to emerge.
~
One walked out of the conference room and ran right into Billy.
"Jesus, kid. Any closer to me and you'd need to buy me dinner and drinks before that shit."
Billy's eyes looked right through One, "Is she in there? What did you tell her? What's she like? What did she say?"
One held up his hands to cut off the avalanche of questions, "Yes. The bare minimum by introducing her to everyone. She's like how she was a few minutes ago when you were spying on her, don't think I didn't see you, and she hasn't said anything that I would write home to my own mother about. Oh, except she did tell Seven he could get into her Nike leggings."
Billy's eye widened and he twisted his body to where the sounds of the team were filtering back to the two of them, "I'll kill him myself if he even laid a fucking hand on her, I swear to god."
"Woah, hey kid. Easy. It was just some harmless flirting and besides, (Y/N)'s a grown ass woman who can make her own decisions. You don't get to dictate who she does and doesn't sleep with."
Billy's eyes were unfocused as he clenched and unclenched his hands. One took stock of the bundle of nerves before him and felt his shoulders droop a little.
It was times like this that really drove home young Four was. He was the most vulnerable (in terms of emotions and in how little protection he had during missions) and after hearing how he really felt about (Y/N), well, it caused One's own shriveled heart to grow two sizes too big after hearing it.
Even though sometimes when he heard her name, he could still feel Billy’s hand clamping down around his windpipe.
He didn't fault Four for it. Seeing how she reacted at the sight of Four's grave almost made him cave and push Four forward, yelling at her to stop crying.
It ripped his heart apart, especially because it made him think about the family he still had out there.
Sighing, he placed his hands on Billy's tense shoulders, feeling the muscles and sinews so tight he was surprised they didn't snap, "Hey. Hey. Look at me." Billy dragged his eyes away from the door and to One's face, "Don't go in there all freaked out. I think I already stressed her out a little bit so...be cool, okay? And remember, respect her decision. I'll give you all the space you need if she leaves but...respect her choice. That's top priority. Got it?" One gave Four's shoulders a gentle shake so he knew that Four had heard what he’d said.
Feeling Four's joints loosen as he took stock of his words, One slapped him on the back as he walked back down the hallway, "Also, just a heads up, we will be watching this whole interaction over the feeds so just keep that in mind if you two decide to start fucking."
~
(Y/N) had been pacing the perimeter of the room, checking for cracks, a hidden door, something so she could get out of here alive. She didn't have any weapons on her. Well, except a Swiss Army knife but that barely counted.
Running her finger tips over the walls she felt her heart clench as she looked at her busted fingernails. They were cropped short and bare. She missed her pink sparkly nail polish. She carried it with her everywhere though. She always figured that when she started feeling better she'd paint her nails again. So far, it was still unopened.
Hearing the door knob turn she inhaled sharply, whipping around so her back was pressed into the farthest corner of the room. Her fists clenched and her thighs prepared to pounce or run, whichever came first. Hearing her heart pounding in her chest she took a deep steadying breath as the door opened wider, allowing light to come spilling in, illuminating a silhouette in the doorway.
She couldn't make out any features under the hood they were wearing. The light in the room was dim and compared to the fluorescent lighting in the hallway, she had to squint to try to make out any features this individual had. Her heart beat sped up the tiniest bit when she realized the figure was built like Billy.
Then the figure cleared their throat and closed the door behind them. Taking cautious steps into the light. She opened her mouth, "Are-are you Four?" The figure stopped abruptly and nodded in response to her question. She wondered briefly if they were a mute as she ran a hand through her hair.
Billy's heart almost fell out of his chest when he saw that her hand was shaking as she pushed her hair out of her face. He so badly wanted to be the one to do that he had to plant his feet more firmly on the floor so he wouldn’t race to her.
"They, uh, they haven't assigned me a number yet and I know you all don't do names here so, I guess we gotta wait for me to really introduce myself but I'm the new recruit. It's nice to meet you." She held out her hand, stepping forward.
After a tense moment, Billy extended his.
She cocked her head to the side when she noticed Four's hand was shaking. She looked up at him but she still couldn't make out his face with the lighting and his hood. She could just see his bottom lip and she was surprised when she felt her stomach clench at the sight of how full and pink it was.
Looking down, she clasped her hand in his and felt her blood run cold.
Running along Four's fingers were tattoos.
Tattoos that were identical to the kind that Billy had.
Lifting her head up seemed to take an eternity to Billy.
He held his breath as her other hand reached up, index finger extended, shaking like a leaf in a storm as she brought it within millimeters of making contact with the tattoos she had traced so lovingly during those 24 hours.
"You bastard."
~~~
Tag List: @itsabenthing @vroboat @mrhoemazzello @gwendolyns-stacy @alliwantfromyouistomakelovetome @desperatelytryingtosavemyself @jonesyaddiction @xtrashmammalstefx @radiob-l-a-hblah @fairestkillerqueenofall
#billy#ben hardy#ben hardy fic#ben hardy fanfic#ben hardy smut#billy fic#billy fanfic#ben hardy oneshot#ben hardy angst#6underground#6 underground#6U#ryan reynolds#four#ben jones#ben jones fanfic#ben jones smut#ben jones oneshot#ben jones angst#billy!ben#skywalker#6U!ben#au
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Can I bend the rules for the AU fic list? If so, how about George and Dwight with 1 (sick/injured) and/or 3 (amnesia) Thank you! : D
Yes you totally can!! I’m so sorry that this took a million years to get around to - as you probably all know, I’m terrible about answering asks in a timely manner. But this was a lot of fun to write! It’s somewhere post S5 - not exactly sure where though hehehe. Leaving under a cut for some angsty things - but everything’s all good by the end:) So stay tuned for some good old fashioned hurt/comfort ❤️
When George awoke, his vision sparkled and thinned, tunneling as he stared upwards into ornate, gilded designs. He was exhausted, far too tired now to fall back asleep. Before he could say anything, he felt a cold cloth on his forehead. There was also a gentle tug at his wrist, but he could not be bothered to look around at anything other than the ceiling.
Dwight sighed in relief. George’s pulse was quite normal again. It had been a difficult few nights at Cardew battling a fever this high, and seemingly with no cause. The good doctor had assured Cary Warleggan that there was no need for fear as George battled his fever; he did not fear death would result in the fight. However, Dwight was concerned as to what led to the man’s suffering and delirium. He had begun to consider George as a friend, and a dearer one than he might have expected at that. It pained him to see any man suffer, but all the more because it was George Warleggan.
George began to hear sounds, the semblances of voices. He felt his breath catch and a chill break down his spine.
“George?” He saw a face that looked like Dwight’s right above him. He felt a hand on his forehead now. “George? Can you hear me?”
* * *
It was another several hours before George opened his eyes again. This time he felt considerably more rested, though still having to take a few minutes to register his surroundings as real and consequential rather than figments of his imagination. The voices returned, but this time he could attach people to them. Real people.
“Was he doing anything strenuous before his fever began?” Dwight asked, his voice quiet from where George was. “Did he seem alright? No mention of-“
“No,” Cary cut him off. “No mention of her. He’s rid of her now,”
Dwight took a moment and caught his place against Cary’s quick counter.
“Still,” he said. “A great amount of bank work? A problem with the mine?”
“Nothing more than usual,” Cary said. “What are you suggesting? That this was caused by something... in the head?”
“I’m not sure,” Dwight said, glancing at George. It was then the good doctor realized that George was awake, and looking quite curiously at them. “Oh, Sir George,”
As Dwight rushed to his patient’s side, George made a weak attempt to prop himself up on his elbows.
“Where am I?” He asked. “What’s happened?”
“You should lie back down, nephew,” Cary said, lingering behind Dwight at a much slower pace. “You’ve been unwell,”
“Unwell?” George looked at Dwight. “What does he mean?”
“There is nothing to worry about, rest assured,” Dwight said. “Just a fever. You seem to be on the mend,”
George made a small noise, something like an acknowledgement, and lied back down on the pillow.
“Um,” George began. “How long?...”
“A few days,” Dwight said. “You collapsed on the floor after supper on Thursday evening. I was sent for immediately,”
“And today is?” George asked.
“Monday,” Dwight said, placing another gentle hand on his patient’s forehead. “Your fever seems to have broken. I should like you to rest a day or two more before resuming your activities as normal, but you should make a full recovery,”
“Do you have a day in mind?” Cary asked.
“We shall see how he feels tomorrow,” Dwight said. “But I should like him to stay in bed today, in case something were to happen,”
The doctor then turned back to George, gently taking his wrist again to check his pulse. He did not seem overly concerned until his brows knitted, as if he had remembered something.
“Sir George,” Dwight began. “Do you recall how you were feeling on Thursday? Do you recall any of the day at all?”
George blinked, trying to access his memory, but frustratingly, to no avail. He merely shook his head.
“What is the last thing you remember?” Dwight asked, still keeping calm with his voice, which was a great comfort to both George and Cary.
It took George a moment to think before it came to him, almost as hazy as the images he had seen in his heated delirium.
“Valentine,” he said. “Saying goodnight,”
“So nothing of Thursday at all?” Dwight asked.
George did not say anything. He could not begin to think of what Thursday was even meant to look like. He very suddenly wanted to see his children, but he could not bring himself to speak and ask for them.
“Did he meet with anyone on Thursday?” Dwight asked Cary. “Any engagements? Did he seem off?”
“He looked alright to me,” Cary said. “His collapse was quite a surprise to say the least,”
Before Dwight could respond, George spoke.
“Where are my children?” he asked. He seemed unsure of himself, unsure of his surroundings. He seemed to be looking in the middle of nowhere.
“Oh, um,” Cary began, quite certain that George must have been out of his wits again. “Do you really want them now?-“
“I’m sure they are not far away,” Dwight assured his patient. “Would you like to see them?”
Cary gave Dwight a look, one of a slight indignation for letting his own command slip, but Dwight merely smiled politely, then turned back to his patient.
“Oh, could I?” George asked. “It’s been so long since I’ve seen them,”
“Of course,” said Dwight as Cary gave a small huff, beginning to retreat away. Dwight watched him go, nearly amused (now that George was feeling much better and sure to recover fully) that Cary was still so hesitant to let Dwight have free reign over his treatment of George. However, he could not say that he blamed the man after what George had been through in the past. If that had happened to any relation of his, he would have never trusted another doctor again.
Once the doctor and his patient were alone, Dwight felt a tug on his sleeve. He turned around and knelt down. George took an excited breath in, his eyes lighting up with a kind of clarity.
“It was my children, you see,” he said. “I was so worried. About Valentine. He’s to go off to school in a week’s time. It’s the first time he’s been away for that long since... well...,”
“Go on,” Dwight urged, his voice still calm.
“You see,” George took a gentle hold of Dwight’s forearm, as if that would help him have strength to remember what was on his mind. “I never understood it. With Geoffrey Charles. Sending him to Harrow. But that’s because he isn’t... mine. I should have... listened. To her,”
“I understand,” Dwight said.
“It was almost as if,” he began, showing a slight hesitation before beginning again, “as if she was saying that she was right. I wondered if she... was angry. Resentful,”
“She could never be resentful,” Dwight said. “She loved you. And were she here today, she would feel that same pain you feel in losing Valentine. But he will come home again. He will have made friends, and learned much, but he will always be yours,”
“And hers,” George said, almost as though it were an afterthought.
“Yes,” Dwight said. “You must be strong for him. I’m sure he is just as nervous,”
George nodded.
“You’re right,” he said. “I will be. I must be,”
“Only after you’ve had a few more days to recover,” Dwight smiled. “Even though you are on the mend, I am still worried that your mental state was enough to bring you to this,”
“Was it that awful? My fever?” George asked, slightly worried that he had inconvenienced Dwight, no matter how silly that notion was.
“It is nothing you need to worry about,” Dwight said. “I am glad you told me what was on your mind,”
There was presently giggling that came from the closed door to the room. It opened to the sight of an exasperated Cary leaning over a tall boy and trying to hold the door. The boy ran in with as much excitement as Dwight had seen when George recovered from his last great illness, followed by Bessie carrying a little girl that was almost too big now to be carried. He smiled.
“Papa!”
#thank you so much for this!#i hope you enjoy ❤️#basically i love george and dwight with my whole heart#this probably isnt even canon compliant but i dont care hehehe#otp: i was there#brotp: i was there#dwight enys#george warleggan#cary warleggan#poldark#poldark fic#my fic#poldark au#poldark s5#ticketybooser#hope you’re doing well hun!
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Okay, no, turns out I can’t resist another complaining post: how is it that everyone who wants to talk about how Byleth secretly has a real personality never once talks about how there should be a metric fuckton of pent up anger at Jeralt?
Seriously, they’ll dig into everything. As one should. But still, you look into response patterns to delve into Byleth being highly empathetic, and good at listening to people’s problems, and that facilitates their ability to teach. All fair. But somehow we miss the whole part about their upbringing and Jeralt being a terrible fucking dad.
Like seriously, up until this point, Byleth has known nothing but fighting. They do not know a single thing about the kingdom, the empire, the alliance, or the fucking church. This in spite of the fact that, as mercenaries, they’d travel all over the goddamn place. Meaning they’ve obviously been around the continent, they should know what each location is roughly. But they have no idea. The only way that’s possible is if Jeralt carted them around to fight, but never actually taught Byleth shit about anything, and kept them hidden away. Which we know is true, since Byleth has 0 friends, acquaintances, or even allies in the mercenary group. Not once is anyone referenced as part of Jeralt’s mercenaries for Byleth to have a connection to. They’re all just...people they worked with, but never really knew. Byleth has no one. Except for Jeralt, her only point of human contact.
So like...I get they might have some attachment, based solely on never having anyone else. The anger and sadness they feel over Jeralt’s death is real, but I’d imagine only because he’s the only person they had their entire lives, outside of the last like 10 months. But it’s not like Jeralt seriously earned any of that affection.
Run this back with me. At the start of the game, we have Byleth, who knows nothing because Jeralt never let them really interact with others. Through a twist of fate, you’re brought to the monastery, and you meet Rhea, who is super nice to you. She gives you a job that, while still related to fighting, has you doing other things, and gives you an opportunity to connect with both students your own age, and peers in your same field. Your peers are friendly and seem invested in you as a person, and the students look up to you as a role model, and seem to like you a lot. The first thing Jeralt says to you is “Don’t trust any of them.” The second thing is a question about how you’re adapting, and if you tell him you like it, he’s honestly surprised and comments he didn’t think you’d fit in. That’s Jeralt. That’s how he is toward Byleth. That’s how he acts toward them. Are you seriously going to tell me there’s not going to be resentment over this? That Byleth’s going to look at how comfortable their life is, how well they could’ve lived, and how much they’ve missed out on when it comes to having friends, and not feel like Jeralt keeping them as a secluded mercenary and teaching them nothing was unfair? No lingering resentment at all? No, I guess not, dad of the century, give him a Valentine’s alt where we also pretend like Jeralt’s a good guy, just like Rudolf.
And that’s just toward Byleth! When you look at everyone else, it’s somehow worse. Leonie and Alois muse that Jeralt’s a notorious fucking drunk, who completely loses control, and at one point may have tried to kill Alois for funsies? He treats Alois like complete shit, despite Alois having nothing but respect and admiration for the guy, and treating Byleth incredibly well. You’re gonna tell me that Byleth’s not going to find it weird that their dad is such a dick to this incredibly nice man who’s constantly going out of his way to help them? Fuck off. And don’t even get me started on the issue with their mom. “She loved flowers, and smiling, and-” what was her name, dad? What was her fucking name? It’s right there on the gravestone. You can cheat to answer this. What’s her fucking name. Oh, we don’t get to know that until the DLC, when the crazy guy mentions her by name? Okay. Did you ever know her name? Was she actually anything to you? Or did Sitri, captivated by the rugged mercenary who once saved Lady Rhea’s life, just go right for it and you figured hey, a quick fuck, nice. Did you care at all? Because it took you six fucking months of being here to visit her grave, and you never talked to Byleth about her before, like, ever. And when you did talk about her, you lied. Constantly. Not a single thing you told Byleth beforehand was the truth. She died of illness, we weren’t at the church, etc. All of it was lies. You’re seriously going to tell me that Byleth was never upset with this? That catching him in a lie after Remire, and having him fuck off for AN ENTIRE MONTH didn’t bring about any lingering resentment about what he’s hiding, or why he’s outright lying to you all your life? No? Nothing? Okay.
This? This right here? This is why I say Byleth has no personality. Because as much as you can extrapolate some small points about being a good teacher or having empathy or whatever, they never once bring up how they’d sensibly react to a situation involving another character. Everything with Jeralt is rife for anger, suspicion, frustration, and inner turmoil over the one person you were close with not being the person you thought they were. And it’s just...never addressed. Ever. Byleth expresses nothing about any of it. You just wait patiently after catching your dad in a massive lie about your entire life, and just never get the answers you’d presumably want, but it never matters or was important. Byleth just...doesn’t care. About all of this stuff that should be super significant. It’s just so, unbelievably weird to me. You can extrapolate a headcanon personality out of Byleth, sure. That’s doable. Even if the game doesn’t actually do anything interesting with Byleth, you can make something out of them. Because they’re a blank slate. And nothing makes that as clear as the fact that, despite having all the evidence that Byleth should have a lot of issues with Jeralt once you start settling in at the monastery, literally no one who talks about Byleth’s hidden super deep personality ever brings it up. Because the game doesn’t develop Byleth, and just wants to pass this off as “He’s dad, dad good.” And with this near nothing of a character, they make the rest of the cast so hyper-dependent on them, that when plans are set in motion, they all twiddle their thumbs for FIVE YEARS, making no progress in anything, until Byleth comes back to make them move forward. What a compelling character, how very better than Robin, Corrin, and Kris.
#fire emblem three houses#byleth#jeralt#I actually think I hate Byleth's presence at this point#they are an active detriment to the game
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How to Defend Against False Accusations: A Personal Defense and 5 Guidelines to Protect The Truth
August 5, 2018 By Drew Shepherd
[Note: This post contains details about an undiagnosed case of borderline personality disorder (BPD). These details are included for informational purposes only, not to spread hate towards people with the illness.
If you or a loved one have been diagnosed with BPD, however, you may want to avoid this article.]
Guilty until proven innocent.
That’s the new norm these days.
Our current social climate has made it empowering to be a victim. And any abusers left standing must be exterminated—whether they’re guilty or not.
Please don’t think I’m downplaying the experience of actual victims though.
I know what it’s like to be among the lowest of society, and the struggle of real victims is part of the inspiration behind this site.
But the inconvenient truth is that all these “abusers” aren’t the monsters they’re made out to be.
Why do I say that you ask?
Because I’m one of them.
And this is my story.
The Accusation(s)
During my early twenties, I got involved with a girl who I later realized had borderline personality disorder (BPD).
I’ve already written about the experience and I’ve alluded to it multiple times since. So please read that article before this one if you haven’t already.
BPD is a serious mental illness, but most people have never heard of it, let alone know how to diagnose it.
If you’re not aware of how people with the disorder act, this post will come off as a rant against an innocent girl who liked me—which couldn’t be further from the truth.
But to summarize, the most notable symptom of BPD is the inability to regulate emotions. It’s a symptom so powerful that a sufferer’s feelings can define his or her reality. And this is what leads to many false accusations.
Manipulation, emotional abuse, cheating, promiscuity—she publicly accused me of all them.
It’s part of the process of “painting someone black.” The BPD person goes through cycles of both extreme love and hate for their loved one, but once the relationship ends, the other party is permanently devalued.
Of course this treatment is reserved for those in close relationships with the BPD sufferer. Outsiders will only see a victim pleading her case.
I’ve stayed quiet on these accusations so far since most of them don’t have any substance, but I unfortunately made one mistake that appears to give her claims some validity.
So I’m sure that she already has, or eventually will use this evidence against me. And if her false accusations were to gain traction, they would not only destroy my reputation, but also the legitimacy of the message I present on this site.
The latter is my primary reason for defense.
I’ve always said that the Bible is the basis for my moral judgment, and that couldn’t be more important than in sexual matters.
Now do I always control my lustful impulses and thoughts?
And do I always prevent myself from viewing images I shouldn’t see?
No.
I’m a Christian but I’m still a sinful human being. Controlling lust is part of the lifelong battle against sin in the Christian life.
But when it comes to things like fornication and adultery, I’ve held true to my stance on abstinence.
And as tough as it is to be a twenty-something with this stance in our sex-saturated world, it’s beyond frustrating to be accused of doing the complete opposite.
I’m an ambassador for what I believe. And I can’t allow anything on this site—faith-related or not—to be diminished because of one person’s claims.
So I’ll go into detail here about what really happened, and then I’ll show you how to defend against false accusations once and for all.
Drew “The Player”
I’ll preface my story with a little background information.
I was going into my last semester in college, and it had been about a year since I saw my accuser in person.
Things didn’t end well between me and her the last time we were “together.” But I was admittedly still interested in her—even with all the red flags.
It appeared that both of us were sad with the way the first go ‘round ended. So I foolishly tried to work something out with her before the semester started.
To my surprise, I was ignored and indirectly shot down.
How a normal girl would’ve reacted
It hurt pretty bad after putting myself out there for someone I thought still cared. But rejection is a part of life, so I moved on.
What’s crazy though, is that she changed her mind at some point afterwards. And even though I never got a direct response from her, she apparently assumed we were in a quasi-relationship.
Now fast forward to February.
It was the week of Valentine’s Day. And while I did still think of her, I wasn’t sending a Valentine’s Day anything to a girl who I didn’t trust, who now lived in a different state, and who couldn’t even respond to my direct communication.
The only reason I entertained the thought of us getting back together—if we were ever truly together in the first place—was because she hoovered me back in.
Hoovering is a term that describes actions similar to what its namesake, the Hoover vacuum does.
It’s a tactic people with personality disorders subconsciously use to suck loved ones back in after a failed relationship.
In this case, she used one of the social media apps we both had to convince me that she was open to a renewed relationship, and that she had changed for the better.
But at this point, I was just focused on schoolwork because I had no clue what this girl was thinking.
I had a senior project for an external company that took most of my time that semester.
My project group and I met just about every weekday. And at the time, we were all trying to meet a deadline coming up the next week.
The day after Valentine’s Day, one of my teammates mentioned that we should go play trivia at a local bar. But being the introverted party-pooper I am, I declined.
My schedule involved waking at around 5:30 each day. My teammates were always out too late for my liking, and I knew I’d never make it back in time to get enough sleep if I went.
So I gave the whole, “Thanks, but no thanks” spiel even though I knew they wouldn’t let me off that easy.
Our team was a pretty tight group—especially for four people who were assigned to each other at random.
We had a ton of inside jokes by the end of the semester. And they were the first to tease me at graduation because my honor stole nearly fell as I walked across the stage.
So naturally, they all had a good laugh at me for not wanting to miss my bedtime.
Of course it was all playful fun though. I did get back at them numerous times over the semester, but I’ll admit that I have an off-kilter personality that lends itself to being teased.
So anyway, we went our separate ways and I headed to bed.
The next day, I saw an email from the night before saying that I was invited to a school-specific social app. I didn’t see the email until the early morning though because I went to bed early.
I had never heard of the app before and I was skeptical. So my first thought after waking and reading the email was, “What the heck is (app name here)?”
My second thought was, “Who’s the funny guy who sent this?”
Now I knew it was someone who previously had my email address.
Of course any student could have pulled that info from the school’s directory, but I doubt anyone would have gone through the trouble of searching their class roster, finding me, and then using my email address for the sake of hitting me up on an app.
So it had to be someone with whom I worked with closely or had a personal relationship with.
With these facts in mind, I falsely concluded that it was a prank from my teammate that the rest of the group was in on.
They had just gone out together the night before. And they always found a way to mess with me—even when I wasn’t around.
So just like any other time I felt I was being pranked, manipulated, or taken advantage of, I played along with the hope that the other party wouldn’t realize until it was too late (and this has been my M.O. since I was a kid).
But doing this, in hindsight, was a terrible idea.
Any form of participation on what I later realized was a hookup app would paint me in a bad light. And the consequences of my actions weren’t as clear at 5:30 in the morning.
After I made a quick profile—complete with pictures no man would ever use if he was truly seeking casual sex—I waited about 15 minutes for a response that never came.
Then after realizing how bad my actions could appear without context, I quickly deleted the app and went on with my day.
I’m not sure if I completely wiped the profile I created. But since the app was lesser-known and low key about its hookup aspect—it’s not like I signed on to Tinder—I figured this wouldn’t be a problem.
Outside of my own actions with the invite and the app though, I don’t know anything else. But there’s a chance that a troll profile made 10 minutes after I woke could end up biting me. And that’s why I’ve chosen to address it.
Now, I’m almost certain this invite was from my accuser. And I still kick myself for not recognizing the true source of the bait.
My actions gave her the apparent confirmation that I was “playing the field.” And within the week, she either started, or just made it obvious that she was sleeping with another guy to spite me—a wild and disproportionate response to the thought that your S.O. may be seeing someone else.
So once I confirmed that this actually happened, I ghosted her and all her drama, focused on my schoolwork (which led to my first 4.0), and then went along with my life.
People with BPD are notorious for doing stuff like this. It’s the reason why a popular book covering the illness is called Stop Walking On Eggshells (affiliate link):
They’ll cry about a lack of communication but then ignore you when you reach out to them.
They’ll go on about how lonely they are while sleeping with one of their (or even your) “friends” behind your back.
They’ll say you’re too stupid to complete a task but discredit you when you do it, and then raise the bar higher so you won’t reach the new mark.
After a while you won’t know what to do because she’ll never be satisfied. And everyone else will chalk it up to you not knowing how to treat a woman.
No-win situations and constant testing are common to those in relationships with these people—especially in regards to anything sexual. So I presume the invite was a test to see if I was some dirtbag who would cheat on his partner.
Now I’d hesitate to call it cheating either way since she ignored my attempts to directly communicate, and I had no idea what our relationship status was.
But the other “fact” she gathered was that I was a player who enjoyed casual sex (an assumption that would have driven a younger me mad with laughter).
Look, I understand that I don’t have a squeaky-clean Christian boy appearance—going through trials doesn’t purify the outside after all.
But that doesn’t mean I partake in the same activities those who look like me may be into. And it for sure doesn’t mean that my moral character is anything different than what I present on this site.
Of course it doesn’t help that I’m black either…but I won’t go down that road.
I should also note that I don’t have a personal Facebook or Instagram account. So it’s tough for others to know much about my life unless they read this site or talk to me or my loved ones personally.
This blank space makes me an easy target for accusations since I can be unknowingly attacked through mediums where I can’t defend myself. And there are no videos of me playing with my dog to fill the holes left by my “shady” lifestyle.
Usually this isn’t a problem as most of the people I meet don’t care about my online presence. But of course there’s always one person who assumes the worst case scenario. And it’s sad that in my case, this person was someone I genuinely liked before.
These obsessive behaviors were nothing new though:
This same girl cried sobbed in the middle of one of our classes—when we were both in our twenties mind you—because I didn’t initially return her interest.
She would go from spaced-out to depressed and then stare at me like it was my fault.
She even accused me of cheating after seeing a pic my mom took of me when I was at dinner with my family.
So you can imagine the relief I felt when I closed the door on that for good.
At this point, the only ones who still believe her lies—or to be fair to the illness she has, her reality—are people I’ve never met.
But I’m not even mad anymore. I’m just annoyed that my life is still negatively affected because I fell for the wrong girl.
And that, ladies and gentlemen, is the honest truth.
How to Craft Your Defense
So now that my story’s out of the way, how do you fight your own false accusations?
It’s not too difficult.
Just follow these 5 guidelines to protect yourself in both the present, and the future:
1) Remember the Alibi
As tempting as it is to piece together a story that makes you look like a saint, you have to ensure the truth you present is actually…well, true.
Since I couldn’t remember all this off the top of my head, I dug through my old emails and group conversations to get the timeline right. And I could always use them again if legal action was involved.
It also helps that I have an archive of posts here that clearly present my personality and the mistakes I’ve made.
You can even compare this post to the one I wrote on BPD earlier and you’ll see numerous similarities. If anyone thought I was lying, they could search the other 40+ posts here too to see that the story adds up.
But if you don’t have thousands of words as supporting evidence, just take your time, breathe, and write down what happened as best as you remember.
False accusations can cloud your memory when you first hear them, and your emotions will push for a raw defense. But if you start writing what you remember, you can put that passion to good use now, and update your writing later with more facts.
A story set in writing will be a great resource to have. You don’t want to lean on your memory or your speech when the pressure’s on.
If you write down what happened, you’ll also find other bits of evidence you’ll need to prepare your defense. And if your audience is really concerned with the truth, they’ll take all the info they can get.
2) Compare the Fruit
Perhaps the easiest way to expose the shakiness of false accusations is to note the shakiness of the accuser’s lifestyle.
This is by far my least favorite technique though since it appears to be an attack on character instead of the accusation itself. But understand that those two targets aren’t mutually exclusive.
A person who usually acts one way is almost certain to do it again.
And no, that fact isn’t judgmental. It’s simple probability.
This is going to sound like I’m bragging about my accomplishments and attacking her character, but let’s compare some notable points about my life and my accuser’s:
I improved to at least a 3.5 GPA in my last four college semesters within a STEM major. But I’ll admit my accuser was booksmart, so we’re pretty much even there.
I have never gotten blacked-out drunk (or even consumed alcohol). I have never taken an illegal substance. And I have never lived a promiscuous lifestyle. My accuser has done, and probably still does, all three.
I landed a stable job in my field more than a month before I graduated, and I’m still employed there today. My accuser barely held a job as a bar server about a year after graduating with the same degree.
Again, I don’t like expressing my achievements, and I never want to attack anyone’s character. We all make mistakes, and I made one of the biggest mistakes any student ever will (which she contributed to by the way).
But when someone’s lifestyle displays a clear pattern of incompetence, recklessness, and mental instability, the validity of their claims also takes a hit.
And that’s without mentioning that I’ve written the equivalent of a book here at HFE—a site where I cover my own shortcomings just as much, if not more than my accomplishments—on my own time and dollar because I believe it will help others.
So knowing all this, let me ask you, who do you think is telling the truth?
A tree’s fruit always gives it away.
Know who you are and know who you’re dealing with so any other lies are dismissed as the jokes they are.
3) Change “I” to “We”
The most unfortunate thing about false accusations is that no one’s waiting to hear a verdict.
As soon as those words leave your accuser’s mouth, you will be facing much more than one person.
Friends, family, social circles, even whole communities may turn against you.
And what began as a defense against one liar becomes a battle against an entire army.
So what do you do when this multitude of warriors stands against you?
It’s simple.
You gather the troops.
Find people who can vouch for your story. Get help from friends who aren’t blinded by the lies. Ask people who were neutral bystanders to explain what happened since they’re not biased.
I know I can get anyone from former classmates, friends, and family members to acknowledge the truth of my claims.
And since I know the mental issues my accuser deals with, I can also refer to a psychologist or another mental health resource.
An understanding of my accuser’s mind is one of the best counters to her claims. Yes, she acts in unstable ways, but they’re predictably unstable, and numerous people have experience with the problem I have now.
You shouldn’t be afraid to get professional help either.
Lawyer up if it’s serious enough.
Slander and libel are legit crimes. And if you can prove that your life is heavily impacted, especially financially, you may have a case.
So don’t go at this alone. You can bet your accuser isn’t.
4) Go One and Done
The biggest mistake people make when presenting any argument, defense, or reasoning is that they over-explain themselves.
Sure, you want to be as thorough as possible in your explanation, and you should reference points of that original argument to answer questions. But there’s no need to add to your stance or sate a mind that will never believe you.
If you’ve taken the necessary steps to present and defend the truth, you have to live with the results.
Learn to be comfortable with the fact that everyone won’t like, listen to, or believe you. Because the more you add to your original defense, the weaker it will appear.
You’ll also introduce more room for error. And it would be a shame for a memory lapse to cause an otherwise solid defense to fail.
Remember that it’s only your job to present the truth. Not to make others believe it.
I’m confident that my defense removes any ammo my accuser has left. So now the only claims she can bring against me are accusations of neglect—which don’t matter since I’m not her parent—or causing hurt feelings—which isn’t a crime in America yet.
I presented the truth one time, and now there’s no need to address her claims again.
Every accusation doesn’t deserve a response. So stay true to what really happened, and let people think what they want afterwards.
5) Don’t Even Fake It
These accusations have made me realize the importance of the Bible’s command to, “Abstain from all appearance of evil.” (1 Thessalonians 5:22 KJV)
It’s not enough to just avoid evil acts. You have to avoid situations where you could possibly do them too.
For instance, plenty articles on false accusations describe how to protect yourself against false rape claims. But if someone can accuse you of something like rape without an obvious fabrication, you are in over your head.
You can’t reach the point where a verdict is decided by a “yes” or “no.”
It’s one of the many reasons you shouldn’t sleep around in the first place. You are putting your life in the hands of someone who could easily change their mind in the morning. And you have to stay out of that gray area.
Remember to guard your character at all times. You never know when you’ll need to fall back on your integrity.
For example, I remember one conversation I had with a friend a few years back, and my accuser happened to be in the room.
My friend noticed that I received a few glances of interest from girls. So out of the blue he asked, “Drew, how many girls do you get?”
He chuckled while asking the question, so of course it wasn’t anything serious. He didn’t ask about anything explicitly sexual either.
So being the joker I am, I said something along the lines of, “I don’t know. I lost count.”
Then the both of us laughed it off.
But there’s a chance my accuser heard those words and immediately assumed the worst.
It would have been ridiculous to say something like:
“I’m sorry sir, but I am a Bible-believing man of God who has accepted the challenge to live righteously. How dare you imply that I live such a heinous lifestyle?!”
So I had a quick laugh and moved off the subject.
But even this could have added to her claims. So now I try not to even joke about stuff like that—at least not when I’m around people who barely know me.
You should do the same. But don’t limit your efforts to watching your tongue:
Always dress in a respectable manner.
Avoid the crazy nighttime venues—they’re magnets for people like my accuser.
And please don’t go to a hotel room belonging to a member of the opposite sex.
Presentation always matters.
Avoid the appearance of evil, and it’ll be impossible to even accuse you.
Grant Me That Chance
I’ve had enough headaches from my past relationship, and I’d rather not think about it anymore.
But it was important to defend myself here before any other false info leaked.
I hope none of it came across as too aggressive though. I wrote all of this to clear my name, not to get revenge.
From all I’ve seen, read, and now experienced, real victims don’t go out of their way to destroy their abuser’s life. They just want justice and a chance to finally move on.
So if anything else comes up about this, please remember this point and grant me that chance.
Contrary to what some people think, I don’t hate my accuser, and I hope she’s able to turn her life around.
If there was a normal version of her who didn’t have what she had, I’d love to meet her. But the ship has sailed on anything between me and the real her.
All I want now is peace and the freedom to live a good life. And I’m sure that’s all you want too.
So remember who you are, take a stand for the truth, and then defend it with your life.
And who knows? Someone else may come to your defense if you do.
-Drew
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Valentines Day
Valentines Day. A day where people celebrate being in love or having someone to love on. Usually when we think of Valentines Day, we think of spending time with our significant other and having sweet treats and great food. People that are alone however, tend to either be on the spectrum of hating Valentines Day or not even caring about it because it's a government holiday. The annoyed single people hate it because of the sappy couple postings, cheesy romantic comedies, stalking their ex’s profiles to see what they're doing, and themselves spending it alone.
As a single person myself I can honestly say that I am not upset that I am single this Valentines Day. Maybe its just me getting older and not caring about having someone or maybe I’ve just been tired of the men I have been dating that I don’t feel the need to date anymore. Most of my life I have been in relationships that have the length of 6 months to 3 years being the longest. As far as being in love, I can recall myself truly being in love with a man twice in my lifetime. One was my high school sweetheart and the other was a guy I dated a few years ago, neither shall I say were something I want today, A Godly man.
I don’t know about you but I have had my fair share of men throughout my life. Before I came to know Christ, I was in and out of relationships faster than you could imagine. Some weren’t even real relationships and they were mostly hookups. I did sleep around for money, food, drugs, or just simply wanted the affection. Don’t get it twisted though, even when I found Christ when I was 24 years old I did have a few slip-ups. I still had sex but this time it was within a relationship so I thought it was “okay” since we were together. I just look back at that girl and think man... why didn’t you just run to Jesus when you were lonely? why a warm body? what was going on at home that you had to run off? why did you disobey your parents and screw up your friendships?
A lot of these questions were hard to think of at the time but I simply didn’t care. I just thought since I believed and gave my life to Jesus I was okay and going to heaven. But I was wrong now looking back. Talk about someone who was lost and just wanting a quick fix of affection but not wanting to go to the source. I would always tell myself that I was perfect and that it was the men always screwing up, now I look back at that girl and say get off your high horse and look in the mirror because you are no saint. You are a lukewarm christian trying to make it in the world and not even looking up at the father, only looking at yourself. And that was the breaking point for me to start turning my life around and taking my life more seriously as well as my relationship with God. Attending bible study, going to church, having accountability partners, and managing my own mental health with therapy. Believe me, when I started looking at Jesus and not of the worldly standards my life got clearer but harder at the same time. When you give your life up for Jesus its not always going to be easy, the more you reach up to Him the more the devil is going to wanna block you from your blessings.
Would you believe me if I told you that I said I’ve never been proposed to? I’m 28 now about to be 29 and I just think to myself sometimes ...why? I’m a good looking woman, attending school online to get my masters degree for psychology, attending church and bible studies, working a part time job doing my hair business since I have my cosmetology license, and I am pretty nice and shall I say funny. Let me tell you, the thoughts of feeling not good enough have come into my mind but I know those are not pure or the right thoughts that Jesus wants me to be thinking. Don’t even get me started on my family members asking me when I’m going to have a baby or pressuring me to adopt. Before you start thinking let me stop you right there and say I love children. I think they are the cutest little people in the world but right now kids are the very last thing on my mind!
I want to encourage you and encourage myself as I feel the Holy Spirit is within me typing up this blog to let you know that you don’t need to be swooped up like in those Disney movies to be truly happy. Let me also say that if you are married or in a relationship am I by no means trying to knock down your union with your spouse or boyfriend/girlfriend. the Bible says in Ecclesiastes 4:9 “Two are better than one, because they have a good return for their labor: If either of them falls down, one can help the other up. But pity anyone who falls and has no one to help them up. Also, if two lie down together, they will keep war,. But how can one keep warm alone?” Marriage is a union and should be sacred. Honor your husband and honor your wife, you both are a team made in the image of our Holy Father.
God created us to love one another no matter what. Even if someone else is having what you wish you had, let them be happy in their life. Love them and support them. Be a good friend and helping hand. Whenever you get angry or jealous of someone else's success remember that God isn't finished with you yet! He has more blessings coming your way and just because you aren’t happy yourself does not mean you take out your personal feelings on others. If someone is mean to you or belittling you because you express how you don’t wanna be alone or hurt because you and your boyfriend/girlfriend broke up, take the high road. Don’t let anyone steal your joy because joy can only come from the Lord and no one else. He is after all the one who created happiness!
I remember when I would take things so personally and I would want to hurt the people who have hurt me. Even if they did deserve to be punished, I know the one who has that power to give me justice. I have yet to type down my testimony on here but I will when I have the time because its pretty lengthy but you will see why I think the way that I do now. Before I used to hold grudges really badly towards the people who have hurt me. When I tell you I have been through the wringer, I mean it. I have been sexually abused by people who I thought would never hurt me, I have been verbally abused by people who I thought would never hurt me and last by not least I have both been verbally and sexually abused from people I hardly even knew. I have been told I am scum of the earth and no one will want me and I have also been told that no one is going to want leftover goods. I have been sexually assaulted in a place of work. I have been raped by a few men in my past. Some I knew and some I didn’t. All those things have stuck with me but they do not define me. The only one who defines me is Jesus Christ and thank God I have a savior because I can’t live this life all by myself, If I try I would probably would have died by now. I have in the past held these situations in my heart and it has caused me so much pain. Trust me, I wanted revenge but I never got it. Then God really brought me down to a place where I forgave them and myself. My anger cannot bring justice for what they have done, only God can. One movie that really sticks out to me is The Shack, now that is a good movie to watch about forgiveness. If you have time, check it out because you won't regret it.
Another verse comes to mind for me is Luke 6 27-33 “But to you who are willing to listen I say, love your enemies! Do good to those who hate you. Bless those who curse you. Pray for those who hurt you. If someone slaps you on one cheek, offer the other cheek also. If someone demands your coat, offer your shirt also.Give to anyone who asks; and when things are taken away from. you, don’t try to get them back. Do to others as you would like them to do to you. If you only love only those who love you, why should you get credit for that? Even sinners love those who love them! And if you do good only to those who do good to you, why should you get credit? Even sinners do that much!”
Jesus said that when we love people even when they have hurt us. We have to be the ones that rise up from the earthy things going on in the world. I know I tended to go a little off topic but days like this remind me of my past and it brings me to the present. I want to let you know that you aren't alone today. You do have a valentine and his name is Jesus Christ. He will always be perfect. He will never leave you. He will always be there for you no matter what time of the day or night it is. He will never call you names or do things to hurt you, only help you become the best version of yourself. Valentines Day is a fun holiday but it does not define who love truly is. Love is a person and His name is Jesus. I encourage you to reach out to someone today, even if you aren’t feeling like it. Tell someone you love them today and you are there for them. Tell them that you are thinking of them. Jesus loves you and He will never let you go. I remember when my pastor said this line and ill never forget it. “Once you let Him in, He won't move out!” and I firmly believe that til the day I die.
If you haven’t already and you would like to give your life to Jesus today repeat after me. Jesus, I need you. I’m not perfect and I don’t claim to be. But I need a savior and I’m ready for my life to change for the better. Take me out of myself and let me live the life you promised for me. I love you. I accept you into my life. I welcome you. Amen.
Thank you for taking the time to read my second blog post! I really enjoy doing these posts. They help me vent what I feel and I want to let someone know that they are loved today!
Much love,
Celeste
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Unlucky Star
Pairing: Leonard McCoy x Reader
Word Cont: 2064 (oops?)
Warnings: Nudity but not in a smutty way, needles, injections, and lots of fluff, couple ol’ cursing
Summary: While everyone was sick, you weren’t. This time, while everyone was sick free, you caught the cold. Jim tries to intervene on behalf of your health. Leonard takes it upon himself to pull you away from work, and takes care of you.
A/n: This is for @cuddlememerrick and everyone feeling sick during this cold and flu season. Take care of yourselves, everyone. Go see a doctor if it worsens. Better safe than sorry. To those are sick, get well soon!
PS: It’s also Valentine’s weekend, so I’ll be taking up drabble requests over the weekend (as I’ve no plans) and finishing up a couple more fics. Expect a couple more posts from me.
(credit to owner for gif)
You were lucky for the most part. Away missions that you went didn’t end in a disaster, you had a job aboard the infamous USS Enterprise, you had friends, and most importantly, you had a wonderful love life. Nothing much you could complain about really.
Above all, you were one of the lucky stars amongst the crew that hardly ever got sick. So while the entire ship had tears watering in their eyes, noses that flowed never ending with snot, and coughs that could be heard from one side of the ship to the other.
A harmless rhinovirus really, but in just a matter of weeks, the entire crew was infected, sending Leonard into overdrive down at the medbay. Even the Captain was confined to his quarters, in fear of transmitting the cold. However, it was no use. Chekov took the day off, and you were one of the very few dwindling officers left, that could keep their eyes open long enough to see what was in front of them.
You volunteered to take his shifts, seeing how the ship was in quite a disarray at the amount of people sniffling and sneezing around you. If the Romulans knew that just a single bacteria managed to cripple the entire crew, hell it’d spell really bad news for everyone.
It was only a week later did you really start to notice that something was feeling rather off.
At first, you’d chalk it up to stress and pulling extra shifts. Less sleep, less food and water, and more hours awake deciphering Chekov’s notes was to blame, you’d thought. However, what really brought your attention, was your soaring uncomfortable fever and wracking cough that shook your body every time you had a coughing fit.
You were doomed for sure.
Pressing a tissue to your nose as you attempted to steep coffee grounds, you glanced at the chrom.
“So much for a break,” You mumbled, grabbing the mug of coffee on your out the door and towards the Bridge.
“Afternoon, Captain,” You greeted Jim as you strode past him, giving Chekov a thumbs up on his way out.
“Afternoon, Lieutenant,” Jim paused, noticing your usual lack of excitement. “Are you alright? It doesn’t sound-.”
“I’m fine, Jimbo,” You took the seat that the Russian whiz kid vacated earlier. “Little tired.” Settling yourself in a better position, you could still feel Jim’s worried eyes on your back.
“If you say so,” Jim reluctantly dropped the topic, although from his tone, he was still worried for you.
Squinting your eyes to better understand what the hell Chekov left for you on his notes, you started your long, arduous work day on the Bridge. On a normal day, you’d banter back and forth with the Captain to fill the silence as you both worked. Given that you were Leonard’s girlfriend, you were best friends with him too, and enjoyed a couple similar things. For example, hating medbay, disliking authority, getting under the doctor’s skin whenever possible, and taking risks.
Hours ticked by, as you squirmed around in your seat for the umpteenth time. Sweat gathered on your brow, and behind your neck as you focused on your task at hand. With Chekov’s sloppy handwriting, it was a nightmare to sort through his notes each day, something that you’d lectured him whenever you got the chance to do so.
It was getting ridiculously warm. Fuck. Did Jim mess with the temperature again?
“Lieutenant!” Jim sharply spoke, interrupting your thoughts. He sounded much more worried now, as if he had been trying to gain your attention for quite some time now.
“Yes, Captain?” You spoke, looking back at him.
“Don’t think I haven’t noticed you wiggling around in your seat like that,” He spoke, observing your hunched up position. “I think you’re sick. I’ll have Bones come up and have a quick look at you.”
“Captain, I assure you that I’m fine. Leonard’s finally able to relax after that disaster month of a cold,” You protested, but quickly faltered as he commed your boyfriend up from the medbay.
“Y/N, you need rest and time off to take care of yourself. We can’t have another fiasco like last month again,” Jim continued. “I’ll have someone take the rest of your shift.”
You grumbled wordlessly, appreciating the warmth and concern from your friendship with him, but irritated as he was one that never took his own advice. “You’re an ass.”
“What’s this about being an ass?” A familiar baritone voice drew out from the doors.
Leonard.
“Bones, there you are,” Jim brightened up, throwing his best friend his usual shit eating grin. “We were just talking about how Y/N over there looked a little pale, and agreed that it’d be better if you took a glance.”
You silently fumed at Jim’s words, glaring down at the numbers in front of you. Trust Jim to roll you into this mess.
“You telling me, Jim, that there was no emergency?” Leonard grumbled loudly.
“Yeah Jimbo, there’s nothing wrong,” You added your words into the growing fire.
“You wound me,” Jim feigned horror, clutching his hands together in front of his heart.
“You’ll live.”
Rolling his eyes at his best friend, Leonard strode to your station with his emergency medkit in hand, and squatted down till he was eye level with you.
“Sweetheart, look at me,” He softly ordered. While you stubbornly sat there, he gently placed his fingers around your chin, quietly encouraging you to do so.
He regarded your red eyes, stuffy nose, and very dry, chapped lips. “You’re sick, sugar.”
“‘M not sick, Len.‘m fine,” You hoarsely managed out. “Just a couple more minutes.”
He raised his signature eyebrow look, already exasperated that you were trying to fight him on this already. “Even the strong eventually falls ill.”
Hearing the evidence of your sickness, Leonard brought the back of his hand to your forehead, feeling the uncomfortable warmth radiating behind your skin. “And a fever too.”
He sighed, throwing an arm around your shoulders. “C’mon sweetheart, let’s get you outta here first.”
“Len, honey, I’m-,” You tried again, but stopped as he threw a pointed look at you. “Okay, alright, alright, you win. I’ll go”
“Take care of her, Bones,” Jim added cheekily before you and Leonard headed towards the turbolift.
You threw him a glare before the doors closed.
“Unbelievable, darlin’. Why didn’t you comm me that you were sick?” The doctor pulled out his handy dandy tricorder, giving you a whirl as it no doubt scanned you.
“You were tired, I was tired,” You shrugged.
“My god, darlin’. How long have you let this continue?” He scowled down at his tricorder, taking in the numbers displayed.
“A day or three,” You squeaked out. Now that you weren’t forced to compensate for your work, your sickness rapidly took over again.
“A day or - Jesus, that is ridiculously bullheaded of you,” He put away his tricorder, gently tucking away an errant hair. “In your state, you would benefit from an IV saline overnight, but I assume that’s a no go.”
You pulled out your best puppy dog eyes at him.
“Alright sweetheart, I can make sure you’re comfortable down in our quarters too,” He relented. “You know I would do anything with those eyes.”
“What are you gonna do, hypo me into next week so I don’t have to suffer?” You lifted your eyes hopefully at him.
“Even better,” He breathed, crowding into your space. “I’ll draw you a bath, even drop in your favorite bath bomb, make some food for you, and then wrap you up so we can snuggle up together on the couch with ice cream to soothe your throat while we watch some holos.”
You leaned on him, already closing your eyes to imagine it all. “Mmm,” you hummed. “I like that.”
Before long, while you were stripping your clothes off into a mess on the floor of your shared quarters, Leonard turned the taps on to fill the tub.
You rubbed your eyes tiredly as you examined yourself in the mirror. “God damn,” you muttered.
“Don’t think much of it,” Your boyfriend spoke, turning around to watch you. “You’re sick. Water’s ready.”
You stuck a finger in to test the water, but recoiled instantly at the touch of the icy cold water, and reproachfully glanced back at him.
“You don’t want the saline, this is the next best way to lower that fever,” was all the explanation you received.
With an unhappy scowl, you slowly lowered yourself in while Leonard came back with a chair and a washcloth.
As you laid back back, you let your eyes flutter close, dropping your tense shoulders.
“That’s it,” The doctor encouraged, gently dabbing away at your forehead with the cold washcloth. “Computer, bathroom light to 30%”
You groaned in earnest, satisfied with the amount of attention you were receiving and the dim lighting you were in.
“Here, let me wash your hair real fast,” he spoke quietly, reaching over to grab your bottle of shampoo and a jug of warm water he’d placed to the side earlier..
After pouring some water on your head, he squirted a dollop into his hands and slowly massaged it into your hair. Humming an unfamiliar tune, you let yourself drift off in bliss as Leonard worked his way out from the scalp. His long, talented fingers did not miss a place, gently smoothing out each strand out.
It was pure heaven.
Before you knew it, he was pouring the rest of the water to get the suds out. “Let’s get you outta there before you start shivering.”
Letting the water drain and helping you up to your feet, he grabbed a nearby definitely-not-standard-Starfleet extremely fluffy towel from the rack and ever so gently dried you off.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, you yawned, feeling so much better than just a mere few hours ago.
“Incoming,” he warned, throwing you your pair of pajamas, and lastly, your panties to your face.
You did your best to scowl at him, but failed as you ended up chuckling at his antics.
“Why don’t you go get yourself comfortable on the couch, and I’ll bring you something to eat?” He suggested, placing another hand on your forehead.
You nodded. When he was satisfied that the heat behind your skin had lessened, he left for the kitchen to get you your dinner.
Stretching yourself out on the couch, you reached out for the plaid blanket draped over the cushions, while scrolling through the tv guide for something to watch.
The scent of chicken noodle soup filled the air, turning your gaze towards the hallway as Leonard emerged with two bowls of soup and a hypo all balanced on a tray.
“Found anything eye catching yet?” He asked, carefully handling over your bowl.
“Not yet,” You replied, thanking him with a nod. “How’s your day been?”
You scooped up spoonful after spoonful of soup as you listen to him talk about those unfortunate to be stuck down in the medbay. Idiots, he had called them.
When you and Leonard both had your fill, you watched as Leonard picked up the hypo. Knowing the routine, you tilted your head to the side, so he had better access to your neck.You felt his warm fingers splayed around your throat, seeking out a landmark for the injection.
“Quick pinch,” He warned. You closed your eyes before the slight sting, which was made instantly better by his gentle massage.
You must have made a noise of happiness as he stopped, softly kissing your forehead. Sickness be damned. He was a doctor, he didn’t get sick.
“Stay right where you are, darlin, and let me go get those ice cream,” He grinned at you, before moving off the couch.
It took a few minutes before you finally decided on the cheesy, yet classic movie: The Titanic. Leonard returned with two ice creams and spoons, placing them within arms distance on the coffee table in front.
At last, he snuggled up closer to you, pulling you tighter to him. “What are we watching, sweetheart?”
“The Titanic,” You grinned at him, enjoying the relaxed smile he had beaming on his face.
“Of course,” He rolled his eyes good naturedly, but settled in.
“Leonard?”
“Hmm?”
“Thank you for taking care of me.”
“My pleasure, sugar.”
(My masterlist is also up for those interested)
#cold season#flu season#need a doctor?#leonard mccoy#leonard bones mccoy#bones mccoy#leonard mccoy x reader#bones x reader#star trek#star trek aos
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POST #35 - Ragland, “More Like a Melody”
“Sounds more like a melody than it sounds like word”
Y’all on Valentines Day 2020, Tahlequah, Oklahoma based Ragland releases their 4th record “More Like a Melody.” The husband and wife combo of Autumn Ragland and Sam Cox have put together an astonishing 20 song album for our listening pleasure. With all songs written by Autumn and Sam, they have broken the album into “seasons.” Spring, Summer, Fall, and Winter; with each song relating to that season by the subject, when it was written or how the song feels. Y’all, I have to admit, it’s pretty awesome how they carefully pieced each of these songs into those categories. With a background in art and design, that amount of detail in a 20 song album is impressive to my perfectionist self.
Starting with an instrumental only song, which is the theme throughout, the “Spring Instrumental” makes you feel happy and excited. Something is about to happen...the flowers are starting to bloom, the trees are getting greener and the days are getting longer.
Straight out of the Spring introduction, you are met with the previously released single “Trailer Like You.” I wrote a quick review on that one to give you a taste of this release a few days ago. You can find the link to it here:
https://hillbillyhippiemusicreview.tumblr.com/post/190597099341/post-28-ragland-trailer-like-you
After “Trailer Like You,” the Spring season is rounded out by “Call My Bluff” “ I Do It For You,” and “Shaking Hands.” “Call My Bluff is a lyrical masterpiece which showcases both the writing ability of Sam and Autumn, but also the power of Autumn’s transcendent voice. “I Do It For You” tells a story of life on the road while missing home... “I’ve given up on myself, but not on the dream”... “When I don’t have a reason to pull through, I do it for you.” Finally “Shaking Hands” shows determination when you feel as if you can’t go any lower... “There’s only one way up, we can’t go down.” Y’all can see the theme, just like Spring, these songs are coming out of a dark place (winter) and are seeking more.
The “Summer Instrumental” comes on and it’s cool, it’s rocking, and you know the days are getting longer and things are looking up. You might even get a sense of summer vacation in there if you close your eyes.
Two of my favorite songs on the album are in the Summer season (which really doesn’t surprise me). “Zooted” and “You are Everything” paint a picture of summer love and happiness. In “Zooted” they are having a good time in Colorado (pass to the right y’all)... “We’re ready to go home but I’m looking at the view.”
“You Are Everything” reminded me of my wife. She’s my best friend and she’s my everything (yeah, it’s cliche). But Autumn and Sam have a way of making it sweeter... “You are early morning sugar and cream in my coffee”... “You are all the things I never knew.” Y’all come on. Summer...Love. It just fits.
The Summer season ends with “Day and Night” and “Throwing My Life Away.” “Throwing My Life” away is like that reflection you have on summer or the last night of camp. You look back and think about what you did and what you’ve been through. However, in this case Autumn is describing the struggles of a woman in the music industry. We’ve all heard the bullshit about how radio stations can’t play 2 women artists in a row and how they are scrutinized so much more than men. Y’all why is that? Some of the best songwriters I have ever met are females. Some of the best artists I’ve ever heard are females. It’s 2020, lets get past that crap, okay? Okay. “I’ve been working my ass off and people still think that I’m throwing my life away...” Autumn, you are not! I just discovered Ragland a few months ago and y’all are high on my list. Female Led, Male led, it doesn’t matter.
After the “Fall Instrumental” ends and goes straight into “Reflect” you know it’s fall as Autumn describes the hue’s of the trees changing. “I found something in the yellows and reds of the trees.” Fall is a bit slower than Summer and you can tell it’s winding down with “On Fire,” “Love Leaving,” and “West of Idalou.”
As “Winter Instrumental” comes on you hear the bass and the slower, somber tone. You know the days are getting shorter, colder, and darker. That becomes even more apparent in “Coldwave” as Autumn sings “drove 300 miles across this state just to stay in a coldwave” and “sometimes it feels like payin dues will never end.” You sense a little melancholy and frustration. Much as we all do when the leave fall and it gets colder.
Y’all, as a person who gets the winter blues and hates the cold weather, I understood why “Save Me” was placed right in the dead of Winter. It is an emotional song that digs deep into the soul of someone who is troubled. “Had a few bottles, some whisky, some pills. Before they figure out where I’ve gone, I’ll be thinking through the barrel of a loaded gun.” “Oh, I’ve suffered death but I didn’t die.” Y’all, this is something that has been a topic in a lot of songs lately. It’s something that is hard to write about and I admire anyone who brings light on the situation instead of hiding it in the closet. Mental illness is a real thing. Someone cares about you. The world needs you. If you just want someone to talk to, message me (Nathan). I’m not that hard to find on Facebook if you are reading this or following our page...Reeling it back into the song...the lyrics in this song are powerful and bold, yet they show weakness. This is by far one of the best songs I have heard in a long, long time.
The album and the Winter season both come to a close with “Cain” and “If You Ever Came Home.” “Cain” possesses the albums namesake “Sounds more like a melody than it sounds like words.” “If You Ever Came Home” is one of the deeper and more heartbreaking songs of the album. It’s obvious it is a mother talking to her unborn child who never came home. It is raw and heartfelt. “You deserve more than me. You deserve more than this world. You were safer as a Dream.” Y’all, art and music are channels to express yourself. Sometimes its easier to sing how you are feeling that it is to say it. I feel like this is what Autumn and Sam are doing in this case. They made me feel the pain. They made me understand what they were going through. That is what songwriting is about!
As the seasons come to a close, the only thing left for y’all to do is check out Ragland and listen to this album. Remember, it comes out on Valentines Day 2020. In the meantime check out their recent releases and “Trailer Like You.” You can find Ragland on Facebook, Instagram, YouTube and all the streaming services. You can also check out their website here: https://www.raglandmusic.net
As always, support local and independent music. Buy merch and albums. And ALWAYS go to the show!
-Cheers, N.
*This is an independent review. The Hillbilly Hippie Music Review was not compensated for this review.
*The opinions expressed are solely that of the author(s).
*These images are not our, nor do we claim them in any way. They were provided by Ragland.
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All the Cliches
When I started writing this post in my head, I was going to title it something like Out of Hibernation, yet make it known that I wasn’t planning to bore you with a 1,300 word soliloquy comparing myself to a Bleeding Heart (which is apparently a Spring perennial and, you know, we’re all about cliches here) blooming through the last remnants of Winter frost.
Then I thought, no, do I really need an intro to tell everyone I’m back on my bullshit after a few steps forward and another step back?
Then I realized...isn’t running really just the epitome of a giant cliche?
TL;DR I had a big accomplishment in the fall and thought the momentum would carry over super easily into the Spring. I ignored some symptoms, realized I was anemic, felt really sad, and now I’m starting to feel like myself again. aka, the simple, common, cliched journey of every.single.runner.
Even though this experience is the embodiment of what it means to be an endurance athlete, why do we act surprised every single time? Leading up to Philadelphia, after my year of mystery illness [which, it turns out, had another plot twist. Remember how I was having a massive immune system reaction and pretty terrible quality of life? Well, after we found mold in the house the problem went 90% away. The remaining 10% was still driving me crazy. Long story short, the installation of a whole-home water filter has returned me to a fully functioning human being. Hello, my name is Anna and I’m just your local canary in the coal mine] I vowed I would do a better job about just letting life go with the flow and not try to fight the current every step of the way. I guess I got too big for my britches because - lo and behold - I found myself avoiding what I pretty much knew all along.
After Philadelphia, I took 2 weeks off and really enjoyed my down time. The highlight was a day trip to French Lick, where Dave and I hit the casino (I won $25), ate all the sweets, shopped, split an amazing kobe beef burger, got day drunk, and took the scenic drive home. The next day I started running again and, much to my surprise, felt way better than I normally do after two weeks of zero exercise. This felt like a big win.
December turned out to be extra crazy, then at the end of January I co-hosted a women’s running retreat, BAnna Camp. Any fatigue I was feeling during December and January I just chalked up to stress and the typical things you do when you’re in that awkward in-between period from one race to another: less sleep, less healthy food, less fitness.
^have to make sure this post never dies
The first day I was in Austin, Becki and I did a workout together. It was my first “real” workout back (other than some fartleks and strides), and it wasn’t even supposed to be hard: 3 x 7 min @ 6:00 pace. I STRUGGLED. I couldn’t breathe, my quads were heavy, and the paces felt much more difficult than they seemed like they should. But, there were plenty of excuses: it’s windy, we were running a net uphill, I was dehydrated from travel, I was stressed about the upcoming camp, etc. etc. Midway through that workout I had a very distinct thought of oh shit, this feels very anemic right now. That night I texted my friend who would be joining us later in the week and asked her to bring some iron pills, since I had forgotten my supplement.
The following week my workout didn’t feel great, but again, it was easy to make excuses. I was on a treadmill. I was still catching up on sleep from camp. Maybe I’m more out of shape than I thought.
Longer efforts didn’t feel great, but I was getting them done. My paces felt quick, but, winter training never feels amazing. Plus, it seemed like every workout I did was into a strong wind, so how can you really judge pace and effort?
In early February, I had my first race of the season which was a 5 miler in downtown Indy. I had told Dave I was going to hold 5:30 pace for as long as I could and see what happened. My first mile was 5:54, and Dave said he could hear me breathing before he could see me. I was 3rd that day in just under 30:00. Again, there were plenty of excuses. It was windy. We had celebrated Valentine’s Day the night before, so maybe steak, lobster, buttered mashed potatoes, and wine wasn’t the best pre-race meal?
During my sulking about the race I had an aha moment. In December, prior to realizing we had an issue with our water, I was trying to figure out what was still causing skin rashes and GI issues. The only thing I was taking every day was ferrous sulfate, which is an iron supplement that is gentle on your stomach but has some suspect ingredients (food colorings, sorbate, etc.). I decided to switch my supplement (one that had worked for me for YEARS) to something that seemed “cleaner”: ionic iron. While I was wracking my brain trying to figure out what could be wrong, it occurred to me to check my iron dosage.
I was taking ~10% of my normal ferrous sulfate dosage, and honestly don’t even know how absorbable ionic iron even is. That day I made the switch back to ferrous sulfate, but knew that if my iron/ferritin was low, it would take about 6 weeks before I felt a difference.
If at this point you’re reading along and thinking to yourself, it’s not expensive to just go and get a blood test to find out whether your iron is low - you are absolutely correct. I should have just scheduled an appointment to take a blood test and find out. But, I’m stubborn.
Two weeks after my 5 mile race I flew to Atlanta for the Road to Gold, an 8 mile race on the 2020 Olympic Trials course. This is a whole other post in and of itself, but I will say that the hype is real. That course is going to be hard.
While the experience was great, my time was not. My goal had been to run 5:45 pace through the first 4 miles and then pick up the pace. While I did go through the first 4 miles in 22:50, just under my goal, I went through the next 4 miles in 24:20ish, and again felt as though I couldn’t breathe. I finally conceded it was time for a blood test.
The results were pretty much exactly what I thought they would be: low ferritin, high CO2 in my blood, and borderline-low Vitamin D. After weeks of agonizing over whether I was out of shape I finally had an answer (albeit one I should have just figured out sooner). So, I upped my iron supplement and looked ahead.
Nowhere to go but up, right?
In the following weeks I paid better attention to meal timing (i.e., if I was having a steak for dinner I wasn’t pairing it with red wine or other iron-inhibiting foods). I cut out my second cup of coffee in the afternoon so that my body could have a better chance at iron absorption. I focused more on sleep. I got back on nutrient tracking to make sure I was getting everything I needed from my diet.
and it paid off
6 weeks after my miserable 5 mile race where I could barely run faster than 5:58 pace for 5 miles, I ran 1:16:37 in the Carmel half marathon on a less-than-ideal day with rain and wind.
During race week I cut out all caffeine and red wine to hopefully give my body the extra boost it needed to absorb iron. I meal prepped early in the week so that I had nutrient-rich options readily available. I said no to a couple work-related opportunities that popped up in favor of less stress, and I gave myself my best chance to succeed.
In truth, sometimes setting yourself up for success is scary. What if you do everything possible and you don’t succeed? I have seen so many talented athletes give up because they went all in and it didn’t immediately pay off. But, that’s probably another post for another day, too.
Come race day we had 15 mph winds, pouring rain, and puddles on the course. It will sound sarcastic when I say this, but that truly is my favorite racing weather. Going into the race my A goal (not accounting for weather) was 75 min, B goal 76 min, and C goal 77 min. My plan was to run the first 10 at 5:45 effort, then see how fast I could go the last 5k.
Starting off, I was very pleased to find myself in a pack of men and through the first mile around 5:40. I NEVER trust my GPS, so all splits I give will be those from the course. I went through 4 miles in 22:50 - the exact same time I went through 4 miles in Atlanta, only this time I felt so much better. I went through 6.55 (again, as marked on the course, not my GPS) in 37:26 and felt like I really had a chance at sub 75 still. Through 10 miles I was right at 58 min. I felt strong for the first time in a long time.
Around mile 11 I started to get tired, and just focused on getting through 0.5 miles at a time. T last couple miles were definitely the toughest, as they were mostly uphill/into the wind. 76:38 is my fourth fastest half [74:03, Houston, PERFECT weather; 75:20, ‘17 US championships, goal race full taper, 75:59, Columbus half, 4 weeks out from Philly], and this gives me a lot of encouragement considering some sub-par months of training.
Now that I am feeling the effects of higher ferritin, I’m beginning to wonder if I wasn’t a little bit low during my Philly build up. I have had some of my best long runs and workouts the past couple weeks - ones that would have blown away what I did leading up to Philly. It also makes sense, given how I felt the last half of my Philly race, that my ferritin may have been low. Moving forward, I’m going to schedule blood work much more regularly so that I don’t have preventable problems like this occur. Definitely kicking myself, but, as with all failures in life it was a great opportunity to learn and grow.
My next race is in 6 weeks and I’ll be at the 25k championships in Grand Rapids. I’m looking forward to seeing what another 6 weeks of quality training and (hopefully) warmer weather can do for my fitness!
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my grandma has a business shes been working on for years. im the only grand child that has been consistent in helping her with her business, but honestly its overwhelming because she wants to discuss things for hours and i honestly be ready to tap out 30 minutes in.
Even though i am a videographer/editor, i honestly dont have the capacity to edit everything my family randomly asks for. Editing a trailer requires different skill sets than a documentary, which requires different skill sets than a commercial or a narrative film, etc. Its like my family thinks i can do it all just because i have experience with video. But everything i know required a long time of research and just time in general to get there. so when they ask my opinion on things im not skilled in and really take everything to weight it just feels like a lot of pressure.
i was supposed to help her shoot this video for her business, but then i tested positive for covid and now i genuinely dont wanna go out there to see her. Shes gotten vaccinated but its only a 95% chance of not getting it. And when i tested positive i was asymptomatic the whole time, so its scary regardless. And the amount of time it takes to do the things they are asking for, it requires time and planning and effort on everyones half not just mine.
My grandma emailed me something and then called me and was like get back to me what you think. And its just not that good of photoshop work since she made it herself, and its a lot of effort putting into words what she needs to do to be successful because it requires me researching it because i dont have a background in the stuff shes asking me to speak on. So its just frustrating because i dont like talking about hitngs in detail that i dont know -- esp when she is basing her money off of my critique. I dont like the pressure. So we talked and i told her how overwhelmed i was with life, and she gave me advice to be more disciplined -- which i appreciated and know that i need to do. She told me to hit people back when i can, but then called me 4 times (every 2 hours) to give her critique on the things she sent .and im like bruh, what youre asking for isnt a quick convo so its not something i feel like getting into my birthday week/leading into valentines day.
its just frustrating when my family calls me with these very big ideas and expects me to do the labor just because im a videographer and editor. Like that is not a job you just wing-it or something that i should bear the responsibilities for as an individual for someone elses dream. even tho i believe in her, i dont feel like i should be expected to give feedback immediately. ill get back with you when i can with real critique since i can see off bat it needs work. But it will turn into a 3 hours convo and i just dont want to talk that long about this idea because i dont know marketing and i dont really know design.
Look i made a `100+ slide powerpoint on how to use various social media platforms since my grandma didnt know how to work Facebook, twitter, etc. But it didn't even pay off because she doesnt even post on those sites because being a social media manager and a Ceo is hard lmao. So of course she isnt like doin design work n shit. but its like she asked me so i did even tho i knew those hours i put it werent really gonna be helpful to anyone.
but i have lost the capacity to have real conversations. ive gotten so used to being able to turn off social interactions that its weird to be in conversations when i nno longer feel like it. i immediately be done and want to switch off but tis not like taht in the real world. Its just frustrating because i feel like im suffering and disappointing everyone by continuing to suffer after i told them i was suffering. like why are you surprised?????????
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anyways u will still be getting my obnoxious web based posts since i have a crusty old chromebook that sometimes blacks out for brief periods of times but is overall questionably operational, so 2 pass the time heres a fun ‘about me’ style meme i stole from @garbagesura
Age: 21! turnin 22 this summer...
Birthplace: mmmichigan, not too far from here...
Current time: 11:07 PM.. watch me take 20 minutes to answer this somehow
Drink you last had: water bc im healthy ((im not))
Easiest person to talk to: sasha.... im gay
Favorite song: i have a lotta faves and it shifts around a lot but i think my current fave is fall out boy - where did the party go (im a normie i kno..)
Grossest memory: thats an awfully personal question my guy
Hogwarts House: hufflepuff/huffleclaw,,,
In love: Hell Fucking Yeah
Jealous of people: i get insecure sometimes but i think its a bit different from like. envy. and i think jealousy is more like an insecurity thing whereas envy is like, the thing ppl think of where you think ur better and deserve smth more. so i mean i guess sometimes but i try to rlly not let it get to me and i balance it out with logic but its like, its a human thing to feel sometimes u kno?? anyways theres my #realtalk of the night thanks
Love at first sight or should I walk by you again: uhh i dont think you really can fall in love based on first appearances or impressions but i think as you get closer and closer to the right person they draw you in and you draw them in and it feels very good and organic and you will be able to Tell in a natural true way that they’re the one
Middle name: valentine!! like the saint. and the holiday...
Number of siblings: i have one younger bro whos a blood relative and one younger (slightly less younger) adopted/chosen bro and one chosen older sister!
One wish: i wanna live happily and comfortably with sasha and be able to provide for ourselves but also be able to help out and get to see my friends and family often
Person you called last: i had to call sasha at like 11 pm my time for some reason and i cant remember why. it lasted 8 seconds and we didnt talk bc it just prompted him to discord msg me jkhgdfkljdkfghkjd. aside from that does the local pharmacy for emergency refills count
Question you are always asked: i think i have a spiritual sign over my head that says “pls come to me if u have troubles” bc people pull me aside to chat about life advice and ask me stuff like “hey can i talk to u about smth real quick”/”are u free to talk” etc a whole lot... its rlly heartening, i like bein able to give people advice to the best of my abilities,,,,
Reasons to smile: i have some very cute dogs and i get to talk w a cute boy every day and im gonna start gardening this summer and grow some fun vegetables, also im really happy with my art and characters lately, and my guild is full of such nice wonderful ppl who always leave rlly lovely messages in the discord every day and are super lovely to be around n chat with
Song you sang last: mouthed the lyrics of NIN’s ‘head like a hole’ except i was singing them to the version where its mashed up with carly rae jepsen’s ‘call me maybe’. its an absolute fucking banger just ftr
Time you woke up: 8:30 am??????
Underwear color: meme please no one wants to know this. but i will say every item in my wardrobe is goth or goth adjacent. im gay and have mental illnesses so its just like that
Worst habit: bad at self care esp physically but im tryin rlly hard to get better at it!
X-rays: ive had EASILY over a dozen xrays in my life, probably like. way way way more. i was born w hip dysplasia and went thru a lot of surgeries, casts, braces etc, and had yearly xrays until age 9 i think plus all the others they did in the surgery processes n whatnot, and then stuff later on at checkups and looking into shit like ‘guess what u have minor scoliosis’ and so forth. this is going to be a wild way to end this paragraph but theyre kind of fun
Your favorite food: this is tough.... my favorite food shifts a lot, rn i really like egg on toast or cucumber on toast/cucumber sandwiches!
Zodiac sign: cancer sun, taurus moon, sagittarius rising!! also gemini mars + gemini venus and cancer mercury
I’ll tag: im so bad at tagging aaaaaa pls do this if you want to!!!!
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