dxctorfeelgood

[dxctorfeelgood]

maddoxstone​:

“You’ve got a real nice place here,” he whistled at the chromed foyer of STAR Labs. “Security is shit but it’s secure enough for the idiots of this city.”

@dxctorfeelgood​

⟡

The steady grasp carefully guiding the eyedropper towards the various tubes situated in the Centrifuge nearly loosened, Ada thoroughly startled by sudden familiar voice’s proximity. Granted, she was easily startled, especially when she was intensely concentrated on anything. Frozen in place, she blinked slowly behind her goggles in muted disbelief. Silently praying that she was suffering from a delusion and he wasn’t invading the sanctuary of her lab. Unfortunately, her mind was sharp as ever. As was her hearing.

Gradually, she raised her gaze to his and frowned at the smug expression she already knew was resting on his features. It’d been so long since he’d popped up, unsolicited, in her life that she’d allowed herself to believe she wouldn’t have to ever encounter him again. Nor the danger -- and the perplexing feelings -- that always seemed to accompany his presence. Yet there he stood like the boogeyman himself. At least he wasn’t bleeding all over her living room this time. “Maddox,” she greeted with barely any inflection to her tone. Her gaze returned to the task at hand. “You aren’t supposed to be in here, it’s for STAR LABS personnel only”

[dxctorfeelgood]

[dxctorfeelgood]

viberamon​:

Cisco swiftly walked into STAR Labs after being on a trip to see his family. It was nice that even with Dante gone he was somewhat important enough that they wanted to see him. Dropping his backpack down, he noticed it didn’t have the same sound at it usually did hitting the chair…the chair that was no longer there. “I”m gone for a week and you all decided to get rid of my chair! This better be a prank. Hello! Is anyone here? I’m pretty sure Meta’s are still a thing and this city needs saving!” Cisco called out looking around the very empty lab. 

⟡

The sound of bellowing nearly startled Ada enough to spill the contents of her mug, especially since as far as she was certain she was the only one in the lab that day. Ada had chosen to come into work even though it was meant to be a day off to finish off some pending projects. Besides, she loved what she did, and it didn't always feel like work. If she had her way, she'd spend all of her time at the lab and only come home to sleep when she needed to. Cautiously, she eased around the corner and was relieved to see that it wasn't just anyone bellowing, but her co worker. "They're replacing them," she answered softly, curling the tips of her lips upward very lightly in a smile as she passed to her own desk. "There was an email about it earlier this week," of course Cisco didn't know about the memo because he hadn't been there.

"Welcome back," she remembered to add, iven his absence during the previous week. "How as your trip?"

[dxctorfeelgood]

atlantismera​:

🌊🌊🌊

𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐀 𝐃𝐈𝐃𝐍'𝐓 know if she was welcome again, after fled without any explanation or no nothing. Things all happened to fast and before it becomes a big snowball she had to head back to Atlantis, trying to put some order or well solve some unsolved matters in her kingdom. In reality, they are still unsolved. She leaned to caressing the dog, before her with a sympathetic smile, and went to touch on the kitten with her cold and wet hand, that seems not to be bothered with her. ❛ I didn’t mean to leave like that, if you accept me again… I will understand if you don’t. ❜ She is accustomed to a place where seconds chance are technically non-existent. ❛ A little, but not as much as I was. ❜

She raised a brow as she noticed she is going to prepare something for her. ❛ Sure. I would love that. Can I eat with my hand today? ❜ She doesn’t have much coordination’s with silverware yet. In her hometown she used to eat a lot of things with her hands, never used silverware. ❛ I brought a new device, I changed it… ❜ Mera always carried an air bag device on her bag, normally used in Atlantis.

⟡

"Why wouldn't I accept you?" Ada's intonation was practically monotonic, with no judgement or indication of her inner bewilderment at the statement. She couldn't help but notice that the pools of water beneath Mera's bare feet and dripping from her skin grew wider the longer she stood there. She'd have to attend to that shortly or her hardwood would warp from the condensation. She noted the way Mera's features relaxed at her reception and offered a modest hesitant smile in return to express she was pleased as well. 

The two stood in awkward silence, which was clearly making Ada uncomfortable, as she began to flex and unflex her fingers at her sides. "I was worried about you," she finally admitted, glancing up briefly to meet her gaze before returning her sight to the water puddle. Almost as an excuse to divert her attention away from attempting to figure out how to properly explain how much she missed her friend. "Can you leave a note if you need to leave again?"

Ada halted at Mera's suggestion to use her hands, not fully at ease with the prospect of a sloppy mess. "How about a compromise?" she proposed, mindlessly preparing a second cup of tea and plate of food for her roommate. It was a method she'd picked up from Kyle; the more she 'hung out' with him, the more social strategies she inadvertently picked up. "Kyle described it as useful tool when someone wants to do one thing and the other person wants to do another. A 'meet down the middle' action, which I'm not sure works because you really can't apply half and half to anything but numbers and objects with the same value. But I trust him" she poured a fresh cup and placed it on the table in front of Mera. "If you use a napkin and keep inside the confines of the placemat."

[dxctorfeelgood]

melisa pamuk hayaller ve hayatlar (ep 1)

[dxctorfeelgood]

noevilshxllescapemysight​:

Ada swept in with an unrelenting force of chaotic fury and crippling anxiety. He swallowed back the mirth that danced on his lips. Kyle admired the way she never shied away from the quirks that both elevated her personality and pinned down her own emotional security. Ada possessed great power despite her own doubts. “No biggie, Ada, I’m kidding. I just got here myself. No traffic accidents to excuse my tardiness.” He lifted to pull the chair out for her to sit. Rounding the table, he settled back into his chair and poured her a fingerling of wine; she needed it. 

“Dang it, I guess she ain’t getting no love for me. What a shame,” he chuckled. Kyle dug around in his pocket to produce a small square wet-nap. Ada’s ritualistic tendencies had grown on him; he found himself wanting to accommodate it now. He slide it slyly across the table. “Apparently a man and woman can’t have dinner without it being seen as a date. You remember what girl I was telling you about, bright eyes and big muscles, she asked if it were a date. It started out as a blind one so I didn’t want to lie. It was..” not my finest moment. “I’d be a fool if I were being sarcastic. I’m being facetious with details of decaying personal life. See, I’ve been using that word calendar thing you got me.”       

⟡

He was only kidding. Ada inclined her head only slightly as she catalogued this admission, the statistical probability that Kyle was frequently always jesting rising in Ada's mind. Their friendship was probably an unexpected one, the result of a botched blind date that blossomed into surprising camaraderie. Despite their fundamental differences, they seemed to complement one other rather well. Platonically speaking. With every meeting Ada was learning a little more of his nuances and mannerisms. Naturally she was approaching the new friendship in an analytical manner. Learning all she could about how casual and unassuming a connection could be. And entertaining, for that matter. "You are routinely tardy," Ada agreed, not in a disparaging fashion, rather as a statement. But she never minded it. "Perhaps you should get a wristwatch"

Ada reached for the wet-nap without even properly processing he'd brought it for her benefit, neatly opening the package and proceeding to thoroughly wipe down their silverware. "The woman from the bar" Ada confirmed, she'd only caught a glimpse of the raven haired woman. "She believes the date was romantic." it was difficult to difere the assumptions of others for she was always direct in her intentions. "Hmm. Did you explain that there was no romantic inclinations? Would you like me to speak to her?". Ada rewarded him with a brillant grin at his use of phrase, pleased he was making use of gift. "So you have!"

[dxctorfeelgood]

eyesonthesky​:

“I know,” he replied smugly, looking up as she only barely towered above him. “No need for proper attendance, I just need enough to keep me from keeling over on my way home. ‘Sides, you ever sewn? Patched a sweater or pair of pants? It’s no more complicated than that.” Mark took yet another draw from the bottle, the liquid diminishing quickly as his intoxication level increased. “Yes on both accounts, but not often in the same night,” he answered genuinely, eyes flicking up to hers as her words were cut short, the silence between them growing more stale.

“Kish? You okay?” Mark’s face twisted in concern, the woman’s face taking on a somewhat green-white hue. He set the bottle on the table once more, focusing on her hands as she tied off the tourniquet. “Ada? Ada!” His worried voice called out, a small part hoping his voice would get a rise out of her. He slid to the front of his chair before his knee hit the floor, arms reaching out to catch her small frame before she hit the kitchen tile. 

The sudden movement caused pain to flare up in his injured arm once more, the meta biting the colorful curses back as his mind raced. “C’mon Kish. I’m the last person qualified to deal with situations like this. Please wake up, I’ll get out of your hair. If your roommate comes in, I think we’ll both be good as dead,” Mark couldn’t help but snicker, imagining anyone walking in on this sight would be humorous. Though, given his current state, and the fact that he was still actively on the run, he’d rather not have someone else knowing his whereabouts.

⟡

Ada had quite of number of points she wanted to correct in Mark's analogy, considering she didn't think sewing a bullet wound closed was comparable to sewing a cloth stitch. But the vertigo was too overwhelming for the remark to pass through her quivering lips; all her efforts were concentrated on avoiding the slowly building impulse to dry heave. Her eyes seemed to be fixed on the blood-splattered garment, which was as brilliant as any poppy field except far more gruesome. Ada felt nausea spread from her abdomen to her temples. Her cheeks turner paler by the second, as if she’d been coated with white-wash - even her lips were barely there. 

In hindsight, Ada was well aware that having such a visceral reaction was a bit excessive, nd she loathed drawing unnecessary attention to herself. She felt foolish. She should be able to retain her compusure long enough to close his wound before he bled out any further. He needed her assistance. Focus, it's nothing but a natural human substance. Simply a physiological fluid that transports critical substances to cells such as nutrition and oxygen while also transporting metabolic waste products away from those same cells...

C’mon Kish......qualified to deal with....Please wake up..... I think we’ll both be good as dead

Ada hadn't realized she'd fallen forward until she felt his grip on her, and even then she hadn't really processed what had happened. The sound of Mark's voice was a hazy murmur, but she managed to gather herself. Lashes fluttering, she cautiously eased herself out of his grasp, her cheeks darkening in a rosy blush. "I'm fine" she insisted, clearing her throat. The embarrassment would be temporary but in that moment it felt rather immense. 

"Show me your arm," she commanded quietly, a need to regain control over the situation. A few measured breathes to work through the remaining essence of her discomfort. The quicker she finished, the quicker she could bleach the smell of blood from her apartment and remove the criminal for her premise. With renewed vigor, Ada withdrew the items she need from the first aid kit and arranged them in a neat line. "This will sting," she warned monotonously as she wiped the wound with an antiseptic-soaked cloth. “Perhaps if you insist on continue your...criminal activities...you should think about being more careful” 

[dxctorfeelgood]

pagingdoctortommy​:

@dxctorfeelgood​  || CLOSED.

5 hours of sleep in the last 36 hours, 12 hour shift just barely under his belt. Tommy was grateful for his cohorts that shouldered the more severe cases that came into the ED, leaving him with sprained wrists and broken bones, among other seemingly simple diagnoses. It was around hour 9 when autopilot kicked in between seeing patients, fingers numbly typing notes into electronic charts between sips of bitter, lukewarm coffee. When his watch buzzed, it temporarily pulled him from his stupor, finishing his notes before clocking out and catching a cab home.

Each stair was a chore as he ascended, both bringing him more misery, as well as closer to the comfort of his own place. Just a little further, then I can drown myself in booze and pass out. Tommy’s internal monologue prattled about, the near constant stream of thoughts keeping the memories he feared most at bay. His mind was foggy, lids blinking slowly as his feet shuffled toward his door, not bothering to pull his keys out before reaching for the door. The knob easily turned, and when that would normally concern Tommy, his mind was elsewhere. Little did he realize, he didn’t step foot into his apartment, rather, the exhausted doctor had found himself in the apartment of his neighbor, one Ada Kish. Their apartments were identical in layout, a cookie-cutter design that was undoubtedly repeated countless other times within the complex. 

While their apartments were identical in layout, the interior design was vastly different. His sleep deprived mind didn’t take that in, only longing for the sweet, sweet release that was the comforting pull of sleep. “Kor? ‘m home,” he mumbled, dropping his things beside the kitchen island before falling over the arm of the couch, face first into a pillow. The sun peeked through the curtains, the fiery orange reminding him of his Kory, leaving a ghost of a smile on his face as he fell asleep.

⟡

As Ada jerked awake, comforter clutched to her bosom in alarm, she couldn't fathom she could be the target of yet another break and enter so soon after her run-in with Mark Mardon. Detective Singh's stern chastisement rang in her ears as she cautiously swung her legs over the edge of the bed. You're lucky to be alive; put up some security and phone me if any more freaks decide to climb through your balcony. While she didn't like his outright allegation that her vulnerability was the result of ignorance -- she had 3 PhDs after all. She did what he instructed, and a technician was scheduled to come on Tuesday to install a burglar alarm. 

Not soon enough it seemed. 

Ada groped for her smartphone and inched carefully towards the corridor, her lips pinched into a tight line of anxiety. Fortunately, it didn't sound like anything was being broken. The further she tiptoed down the dimly lighted corridor, the more scenarios she considered. If it had been Mr. Mardon, he would have made his presence known by now. He seemed to like announcing his arrival.  If it was the assassin that seemed to take a liking to Mera, Ada wouldn't be the one she'd come to visit. If it was Maddox...well, she fervently hoped she would not find Maddox Stone in her living room again.

Relief had never surged over her as it did when she discovered it was Doctor Merlyn. "Doctor Merlyn? What are you doing here?" Her question was received with silence. Loosening the grip on her phone, she peeked over the edge of her sofa. Sound asleep. Ada wasn't sure how he'd mistaken her apartment for his own -- or how he'd gotten into her apartment for that matter. But he was undoubtedly fatigued, as evidenced by the deep bags beneath his closed lids. Ada could only presume he was working exceptionally long hours considering they hadn't crossed paths in the hall in a while. Though she'd had quite a few pleasant conversations with the orange woman who visited his apartment. Ada's assumptions were quickly confirmed when she tapped into the surges of weariness and strain pouring from his psyche. 

Exhaustion. Misery. Defeat. A tiny spark of a more positive sentiment. 

Ada's lips turned downward. She hesitated for a moment before extending her fingers forward, pressing just the tip of her index and middle finger into his temple. Shutting her eyes, she concentrated on extracting the heavier sentiments, hoping it would provide him with a better rest. She absorbed them into herself, her stance swaying slightly as the weight of them temporarily dampening her demeanour before vanishing. It would just be a temporary solution, but it should assist.

[dxctorfeelgood]

atlantismera​:

𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐀 𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐃 on the apartment after a few weeks gone, not able to send any message for her roommate, but she hasn’t done it purpose, things got a bit out of hand, more than she already had mentally predicted. She was dripping wet, finishing to wear ‘land clothing’ with a certain difficulty, leaving her green suit behind, and yes, she wears the golden crown, in which she removed from her head putting at the table. ❛ Sorry, I didn’t mean to leave like this… But I’m back, in case you want me. I was in Atlantis, my people found out that I’m alive. I didn’t want to put you in dangerous lady Ada. Sorry. ❜

🌊🌊🌊  @dxctorfeelgood​

⟡

Ada had the same thing for breakfast nearly every morning for the previous fifteen or so years. That was the thing about being an obsessive compulsive; when you found something you enjoyed, whether it was a ritual or a meal made in a specific manner, it became part of your routine. A cup of Black Tea with a fourth of non-fat milk and 3 spoonfuls of sugar. Half a bagel with light slather of cream cheese a two slices of smoked salmon. And a simple serving of Sucuklu yumurta; essentially two sunny side up eggs and a bit of Turkish sausage. Just like her Father used to make. Ada never had any desire to deviate from her usual morning meal: she dreaded the thought of how her day would be affected if she did. 

Mera emerged in the midst of carefully piling the smoked salmon on her bagel, inadvertently interrupting her routine. Ada didn't outwardly express her surprise, but she felt it. Her eyes was drawn downward to the puddles of water trailing behind the blonde and gathering underneath her. Tsk. She certainly had been wondering where her temporary roommate had disappeared to, and in her absence, she discovered she no longer appreciated the stillness of the spotless apartment. She missed her friend.

"You don't have to apologize" was her reply, before Ada could comment further Wednesday rounded the corner in a jog. Yapping happily at Mera's return, and soon after their rescued kitten poked its head from the nook it was quietly snoozing in. Meowing in salutation before curling back into a ball. "Are you still in danger?" Ada felt compelled to inquire, not for her own sake, but for the sake of her friend. "I...I can make you some breakfast if you're hungry?" she offered, already reaching for a second mug to pour her some hot tea.

[dxctorfeelgood]

eyesonthesky​:

Mark fought the urge to sink to the floor, taking a lopsided seat at the table instead. While the booze dulled things, it wasn’t enough. The graze across his arm wasn’t treating him so well, and while he could try and use the supposed free clinic, the Weather Wizard wasn’t about to land himself back in jail. Ada’s voice caused him to raise his eyes to where she emerged, the smallest smile pulling at his features.

“Kish,” he said, almost fondly, as he took another deep pull from the bottle. “You say that, but you seem to do just fine in patching things like this up.” He set the bottle down on the table, watching for a brief moment as the amber liquid sloshed around. “A bullet —” Mark started, peeling his leather jacket off and letting out a hiss of pain as he lowered his arm back down. “grazed my arm, shallow enough to not have the bullet still hangin’ around, but deep enough to hurt like hell and bleed more than I would have liked.” His once light-colored sleeve had taken on a deep crimson hue, the material clinging to his skin. “There’s no way in hell I’m getting my arm out of this damn thing, so you might as well just cut it. It’s trash anyway.” Taking a beat, he reached over and lifted the bottle back to his lips with his good hand. “You will help me, right?”

⟡

Head tilted and lips thinned in thought, she pondered why he insisted on referring to her by her surname. Terminologies of endearment and their application to new acquaintances were lost on her, and all she could surmise was that he must have forgotten her name. Which, although it may have been insulting to others, had no effect on Ada. It was virtually impossible to offend her because inflections in tone and hidden intentions were not easily discernible to the geneticist. As a result, she took everything at face value until otherwise stated. "It's Ada," she corrected him, her voice holding no annoyance or snark. "And I lack the education necessary to properly tend to wounds; all I know is basic first aid safety" and techniques she picked up from occasionally watching Doctor Snow patch up the boys. 

Her countenance did change somewhat when he clanked the bottle on the table without using a coaster; her eye twitching slightly involuntarily. It'll leave a ring. "Is this a habit of yours, getting near mortally wounded and then breaking and-" her sincere inquiry was cut short when the extent of his wound became apparent. Ada's abdomen twisted as the aroma of iron and rust filled her nostrils. Immediately she felt her vision get hazy as she battled to maintain her balance.

Alright, fundamental knowledge of gunshot wounds. Her fondness for spending her evenings dissecting medical journals for fun ought to pay off. Don’t elevate the legs and perhaps resist fainting before you can apply pressure to the injury. She practiced a few rounds of box breathing; when he sought for assurance that she would assist him, Ada dared a glimpse at the injured metahuman. "Of course," she promised him, her voice slightly monotone but she was sincere. Her modest little first aid kit had been getting a lot of usage the last few months. Concentrate on the task at hand and not on the blood, concentrate on the task at hand and not on the blood and the smell...she only got as far as tying a makeshift tourniquet around his injured arm before complexion went as pale and knew she was clocking out. Then nausea crept from her abdomen to her head as she teetered.

[dxctorfeelgood]

@eyesonthesky

[dxctorfeelgood]

eyesonthesky​:

@dxctorfeelgood asked:  ‘ PATCH. ‘  - [ my / your ] muse starts to heal / bandage [ mine / yours. ]

His body ached with overexertion, forcing himself to continue to push forward, to find her. She’d help him, just like last time….right? There’d been a strange sort of dynamic between himself and Ada, and while he had doubts, he trusted that she wouldn’t call the authorities and put him back behind bars. 

He’d tell the story of getting snagged on some rebar or glass, but the reality was things went south at his first solo heist post-break out. Mark had gotten sloppy and forgetful after his time behind bars, setting off a silent alarm in his attempt to complete his mission, leading a team of police to his location and a not-so minor firefight ensuing. 

Ouch.

After a not so gentle landing on the balcony, hand moved to apply pressure to his bicep, where blood had permeated the layers of his clothing and soaked his outer leather jacket. Mark knocked at the glass door to the balcony before opening it without an answer.

“Kish? You home? Goddammit, please tell me you’re awake.” Stumbling forward sloppily, he reached for the sole bottle of liquor before uncapping it and drinking from the bottle. If she wasn’t awake before, she certainly was now with all the noise he was making. “Doc, you have to patch me up! C’mon, you know I won’t hurt you.”

⟡

Ada awoke abruptly, not as a result of any noise or disturbance, but because her dream had concluded. She was able to recall every second of the moderately nightmare-inducing reverie, the misfortune of possessing flawless recollection. Her father was there, reaching for her with a desperate expression in his eyes and shouting something inaudible at her. She lacked the time to attempt deciphering his message by reading his lips in her haste to reach him. Her fingers moved forward, inches away from touching him, and then darkness. From asleep to awake in one heartbeat. As she investigated further into her father's death and the circumstances surrounding his final project, her dreams were regularly plagued by her need for the truth personified. Ada had not yet decided how far she was ready to go in pursuit of that truth.

Sighing, she pushed a weary hand through her hair and considered getting a glass of water before attempting to settle back into bed. But before the urge had fully developed, she heard a ruckus in her living room. Understandably alarmed, her eyes strained in the utter darkness, breathing rate beginning to hitch. She remained silent and calm, listening for any more movements. Another thud and her heart was pounding as if a hypodermic of adrenaline had been emptied into her carotid. She grabbed for the phone on her nightstand to contact the police, sucking in a breath, until a familiar voice called out to her.

Kish? You home?

Ada cinched the robe around her waist as she entered the hall warily, cautiously approaching the man who called himself the weather wizard. She watched him guzzle down the booze she'd been gifted with a neutral expression, relieved that he hadn't broken anything. "As I believe I have already stated, I am not a medical doctor." She was perplexed how he was here when they last time they had spoken he was being held at a supposedly maximum security prison. Despite this, he was right; she knew he would not harm her. Even just sampling the emotions circulating in the space between them, none of them appeared to be hostile in nature. There was only pain and discomfort. "And please keep your voice down or you'll wake my roommate" the trident-wielding blonde who thankfully slept like the dead. "Where are you hurt?"

[dxctorfeelgood]

maddoxstone​:

The clattering sound of the discarded clip bounced off once pristine hardwood floor. He watched the blood soak into the fine slots between the boards. This could have ended much simpler if you compiled. Maddox grimaced at the inconvenience of the white, searing pain that torched his shoulder.  Stepping through the cotton costume webs that spidered through the ghoulishly festive house, he kicked over the brimming bowl of candy with a soured frown. The bastard didn’t have the money to pay his dues to the king but could squander it on cheap tricks? It was a good thing that the dirty little rat decided to resign himself to such a cowardly path. A slippery political figure with an axe to grind with Captain Singh wouldn’t think twice about implicating a good boy in blue, right? Fabricated material outlining the gruesome details of that cold evening his little brother was frame fanned across the man’s study. Maddox couldn’t help but smirk at his own handy work. A hard drive filled with footage, bank statements, and a ledger of all of Baron’s other questionable moral actions with all the t’s crossed and i’s dotted. It was too easy; almost like fate strummed the strings of his scheme. What he didn’t expect was for the man to fight back. A feeble attempt but semi-honorable final act. Breathing out a unamused sigh, Maddox bundled up whatever business material the man had been gifted by Roman and tossed it into the shallows of his black duffle bag. Not a single trace of the society left to be unwoven by the idiots at CCPD. 

Slinging it over uninjured shoulder, he dipped through the back window and into the ascending shadows. Maddox felt the warm trickling of his own blood soaking into the cotton white shirt beneath the heavy black flight jacket. Luckily, the dwindling twilight coupled with innocent chaos of the spookiest day of the year provided him with the cover he needed. He was far enough from the Kane residence to keep the bloodhound from sniffing him out in her pointed Balenciagas; yet, he was a little too far from his own little safe haven. If he didn’t assess the slow bleed, he’d surely pass out before making it. Maddox’s gaze tipped up gauge his current location as he continued wandering down the streets. The chortling sound of children’s glee echoed off the streets. Something about this area felt familiar. He took him a moment to pin it down. An image of her pout lips, infuriatingly deep brown eyes, and intoxicating intolerance for his presence.

Ada, Ada, Ada

He quickened his pace a half step to fade further into the throng of people bustling across the sidewalk brimming with joy and buckets filled with candy. She may be weird but these are delicious. His brows furrowed at the backhanded twinge to the two young men dressed lazily like the Walmart productive of Scream. A smug pair speaking ill of the young scientist too innocent for this world. Maddox hated how she allowed the world to pick at her. When would she bare her teeth at them like she did at him? Stalking closer, he waited for the winding sidewalk to clear before he grasped their hoods and tossed them into nearest shrub. A cacophony of groans ebbed from the short patch of foliage.  Maddox’s grin spread subtlety despite the tightened pain that shot through his shoulder.

Crossing across the grass, his fist met the door with a heavy thud. Maddox hiked the duffle back up along his shoulder as he leaned into the frame. He wondered how she would greet once she’d opened it.  

The soft light illuminated her sinful figure with striking curves and straight lean of witch’s hat. “No candy for me, sweetheart?” Maddox’s hand shot out in preparation for the inevitable slam of the door, each lithe finger curling around the frame. “What? You wouldn’t want them to assume anything? I mean you don’t get many men showing up, huh?” Maddox didn’t like the sourness that burned his tongue thinking about other men here. He pushed it down and dismissed such a carnal thought to possible blood loss. “I need to use your bathroom,” he brushed pass her without hesitation. The duffle back clattering to the floor as he stalked through her place. It’s not like he hadn’t already studied the lay out. “Nice outfit by the way.” 

⟡

No matter how ardently Ada endeavored to avoid further contact with him, it appeared as though fate had other initiatives. And Ada didn't even believe in the concept of fate -- or destiny. If she had been a bit more receptive to the idea, she may have easily conceded to the possibility that their paths continued to cross for a reason. However, doing so would necessitate placing her faith in things that could not be proven or explained logically, and she was lost without her structure. What she did believe in was probability, and she failed to consider the possibility that spending the evening safe in her house might affect the odds of running into Maddox Stone. He was an unpredictable element, and she was not a fan of variability. He was far too bold, too imposing, and too arrogant for her liking, and it was exceedingly overwhelming.

It was evident that his question regarding prospective male guests was made with contempt, except to her of course, who didn't catch on to the sarcasm in his tone and took the remark literally. "I do not. Why would I want men to show up unannounced at my apartment?" she muttered in confusion. "You appear to be the only person I know who takes pleasure in appearing unexpectedly," she met his eyes for a fraction of a second in irritation, before they dropped to his attire. Ada was unsure of the trope he was assuming. Perhaps a hospital patient, judging by the amount of fake blood soaked into his shirt. Ada parted her lips to enquire -- but he was already stepping, uninvited, through her doorway. As the duffel back thudded to the floor, loud and quick, Ada jumped out of the way with her hands placed firmly over her ears.

She remained by the doorway in awkward stillness, watching him stumble across her living room. "The bathroom is to the..." Her directions seemed not to be necessary, as he was already making the correct turn down the corridor. To her horror, a trail of his artificial blood trailed after his staggering figure. First, he forces his way into her home and now he was making a mess. Her lips thinned in silence as she raced into the kitchen to get her swiffer, her fingers taut around the handle as she scrubbed vigorously at the darkening track.

“I would like you to leave," she grumbled as the swiffer's edge approached the bathroom. She’d have to go back over these floors a least two more times and...-- there was even more of a mess in here. A distinct scowl twisted her features, fingers lifting to pinch the bridge of her nose as she practiced a few rounds of box breathing. She could feel the anxiety of a situation spiraling out of control overload her senses. “What are you doing?” it was likely the highest she’d ever raised her voice. It took her a moment to calm down from the heat of her own anger before her ability picked up on an emotion that wasn’t hers. Pain. Slowly she took in the scene before her for what it really was. “You’re injured” a statement rather than a question. If the laceration on his shoulder was real, then that meant the blood was also real. Ada felt her stomach turn as the smell hit her nose. She excused herself as gracefully as she could, under the circumstances, and rushed to the kitchen to dry heave into the sink. Don’t faint with a criminal bleeding in your bathroom, don’t faint, don’t faint, don’t faint...

It took a few moments for her to regain her composure and for the dizzy spell to subside. When she returned to the restroom, she had a first aid kit with her. "Here," she extended it as far as she could without entering the area.

[dxctorfeelgood]

noevilshxllescapemysight​:

“You know, Doc, they say it’s polite “your date” if you’re going to be runnin’ late. The waitress thinks I’ve been stood up and instead of slipping me the check, she gave me her number.” Kyle waved the scrap of grease soaked transfer paper with a kinked grin. 

@dxctorfeelgood​

⟡

The disgruntled expression on Ada’s face indicated she was painfully aware of how late she was, as did her flushed cheeks show that she’d quite literally sped walked from where she parked her motorbike. Ada Kish had been tardy for just two occasions in her whole life, today being the second. "There was an accident, I was stalled in traffic behind a commuter with a broken taillight” who did not use,” she explained, bottom lip slightly rounded in a pout. She’d left her apartment early as well to account for any unpredictable delays. She so hated when things did not go according to plan.

With a arched brow, Ada took a seat across from him and smirked faintly at the scrap of paper. "You've smeared the last few digits," she observed as she carefully unfolded her napkin and began her ritual. Wipe the silverware clean, adjust the place settings... "Did you mention a date? I wasn't aware this was a date?” she questioned, head tilted. Her eyes lifted to try to discern if he was joking, she’d come to learn he did that quite often. “You’re being sarcastic”

[dxctorfeelgood]

3 cups of Flour 2 and a half cups of Sugar 2 tbsp of baking powder A pinch of salt...

Ada's brows wrinkled marginally in suppressed frustration for a fraction of a second. A pinch was an imprecise measurement, how was she to decipher what was too much or too little without a numerical increment. Lips pressed together, she almost didn't realize it was she the man beside her was addressing. Once she noticed, her breath caught slightly, her mind filling with anxiety at the prompt for social interaction. Her eyes darting every which way to avoid eye contact with him. Finally, she raised her gaze to meet his, but only momentarily before returning them to the gloved handful of chocolate chips she was most certainly counting as instructed by the recipe. She wondered what had caused his brief laughter, his tone obviously joking, except it wasn't to her. It was only through her affinity that she determined he was in a light mood. Inviting and kind; the reading made her visibility relax. His emotions also held a different vibration than she was used to. 

"Oh, um, but if we don't follow the recipe it won't taste as it should" Ada's voice held no judgement or harshness, it was almost monotone. As a stickler for rules and structure, any deviation from them, no matter how minor, sent her spiraling. Even though she herself was not a fan of this specific recipe. "There will not be an equal number of chocolate chips in each cookie," she observed, her tone taking on a regretful inflection.

🍪 – our muses bake cookies together ( FROM ADA )

Cookies. Baking. Aaah- Of all the cooking Garth did, baking was not it. Don't get him, he was actually a Hell of a cook. He just did not bake, ever. Of all all of the Christmas activities to volunteer for. Oh, this is going to be a disaster. "D'you think I can put as many chocolate chips in this as I want, or do I have to use," he asked the person next to him as he read the recipe again, "47?" He couldn't help but a laugh a little. "Do they really want us to count them-?"

@dxctorfeelgood

[dxctorfeelgood]

@maddoxstone​

CLOSED

Knock Knock. 

The black cloth witch's hat artistically perched atop Ada's head – only just lint rolled for the tenth time that evening – came dangerously close to dropping as her gaze shifted to the banging on the door. Her fingers raised to temporarily plug her ears until the volume lessened, and she let her enthusiasm overcome any remaining discomfort. To be honest, even as a child, Ada never really grasped the complexities of the holiday or why so many extolled its rituals with such zeal. Not to mention, she lacked the ability to identify many of the prevalent pop culture tropes parading about. Yet, she awoke bright and early and spent the majority of the day in her kitchen creating special Halloween snacks for any trick or treaters that were kind enough to visit. She even, at the urging of her friends, put together a tasteful and subtle costume to 'get into the spirit'. 

Ada felt incredibly ridiculous carrying around the fake wand, but she certainly didn't want to be labelled a spoil sport. Her interaction with the first round of children to arrive earlier that night hadn't gone exactly as planned. She soon discovered that children didn't want to hear a lecture about the improbability of the classic horror tropes they were masquerading as biological and rational impossibilities. The parents, in particular, radiated feelings of displeasure and condemnation. Right Ada, no scientific facts, children do not find them interesting. Just hand them the spider oreos and smile nicely.

Clutching the plate of treats in her hand, she hastened to the door and took one final glance at her reflection in the hall mirror. It was critical that her hat remained exactly positioned and that her grin did not appear artificial. Her lips widened into a practice grin just to be certain before she gave herself a tiny confidence nod. "Happy Hallowe—" her somewhat overzealous greeting was effectively cut short, her smile gradually fading and her gaze hardening in the direction of the lanky figure in her doorway. Would she never know peace again...

"I do not intend to engage in whatever unpleasant predicament you have chosen to impose on me today," she stated as calmly as she could, her fingers already curling around the door in preparation to close it in his face. "Would you kindly leave before my neighbors see you? Thank you”

[dxctorfeelgood]

⟡ нσ¢υѕ ρσ¢υѕ ⟡

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